Spread this message. If you’ve had content flagged you need to check if Tumblr has muted your blog. Your posts will still show up on the dash of followers but your most recent posts will be from hours ago (up to 48 hours prior) on your actual blog URL. Make a test post and post it to your blog. Go to your blog url in an incognito window and see if the post you just made can be seen. If it can you’re good. If not Tumblr has muted your blog.
Check your blogs lads. Just in case.
I honestly don’t know if this is a bug or what. I hope it’s a bug. But at least by checking you will know there is an issue.
PSA
My dashboard and blogs are I believe being affected by what is either a site-wide glitch or an element, whether unforeseen or planned, of the sitewide “family friendly” purge. My dash is dead and yet apparently people have been posting things regularly that simply don’t appear on the dash. Across all my blogs, I have only one flagged post (so far), but apparently this site is trying to eliminate the use of images in text posts entirely.
For me, this is problematic. I have 4,000+ images across my 7 rp blogs that I use for rp and that is the chief reason why I remain on this site as an rp venue as opposed to html-based message boards.
So if this continues, this will be the thing that makes me migrate elsewhere. For the foreseeable future, however, at least through the holidays, I won’t be moving, but I will be rping without icons until this is sorted. Because I rely heavily on icon-based rp, you should expect me to be less active here than usual. 😦 I’m sorry.
It’s always the monosyllabic response to which he resorts, when his beloved speaks words of rare candor, and directness. It robs the Master of breath. But today he is older than the last time this took place, and today he is very weary. He gnaws on the inside of his lip, the dark circles beneath his eyes visible, dogged by drums, a specter he has shaken, save at times of great duress.
He’s seated at the edge of the open TARDIS doors, as the vessel idles in space, legs dangling out into the starry void, holding a thick volume in which but a slice of ancient Gallifreyan history is chronicled.
He’s dog-eared a page on the soured relationship between Rassilon and Omega. And it’s made him introspective. So introspective that he hasn’t slept in a week, an interval that takes its toll even on a Time Lord’s body.
“I’m tired of pretending I ever felt differently,” he adds, at length, turning a wistful smile over his shoulder. “Come sit with me. Make the universe make sense again.”
The Master looks up from his cocktail with a set expression of fond exasperation. His expectations are not disappointed.
“Darling … .”
“No.”
Theta raises a brow at this.
“What?” She is genuinely confused over this. “It’s good…. Norwegian.”
“Love, I’m not arguing about the Scandinavian flavor, but there’ve been dirty human-feet all over it, and what’s more, earth-soil’s got Clostridium spores. D’you want your limbs to lock up and … to puke until you see colors beyond the electromagnetic spectrum? I’ll abstain, thanks.”
Icarus 