Anyone who's natural conclusion to "bad in bed" means being a bottom, I'm coming to beat you with my cane. The fuck is wrong with yall turning into the worst of toxic sex culture, even for the shitty joke, born of straight up misogyny and the worst parts of masculinity under the developed patriarchy where taking a dick up a hole makes you the lesser with a line that literally just says "He's bad in bed".

Edit for clarity in my issue; it's the reaction, I fully meant to type "being a bottom and being a sub" as the implications I'm seeing being "pleasure receiver bad for not giving back" is a very "Don't apply queer terms to your shit understandings of sex dynamics that are not cis het" reaction from me, a dyke.

So I work as a housekeeper at an assisted living center and had The King's Men on my cart bc I'm reading it (duh) and one of the residents came up to me, looked at the cover then said "you must like a lot of historical fiction, don't you?" And I stood there, a fake smile on my face and lied through my teeth and said "yep!" It wasn't like I could tell this 80 or 90 yr old white man that this book is actually about a demisexual mafia boy running from and getting kidnapped by his murderous father all the while he's falling in love with this short blonde goalie who can hold the weight of his problems and makes him feel and become an actual person. So I lied.

imagine if Penny and Whitney got together and their parents caught them sneaking around

They've got a sisterly bond soooo....

It's not even like Heart didn't know that his parents struggle to communicate with him. He and Li Ming had a conversation in sign language it front of them the moment they entered the house. It's that he's been excusing them for it for such a long time, like he understands that they're struggling too. But having Li Ming stand up for him, knowing that they call him mute, that's the breaking point. He's done making excuses for them, he's done adjusting when someone he's known for a few months, someone who for the most part is paid to hang out with him, understands him more than the parents he lives with and is raised by

could u write a fic where sae beats rin’s bitch ass up bc as the older sibling i’m starting to understand why sae acts the way he does… (half joke)

top 10 most unfortunate asks to drop into someone's inbox who is 1) a rin lover 2) a sae hater and 3) the youngest sibling

what I don’t do is mixed messages lmao

[opposite of a vent post]

i had a wonderful day yesterday :)

best day i’ve had in a while

i had three decently balanced meals, school went ok (the bar is low, but still), i had a good day at work, got myself a treat before i went home, and even after a long day i mustered up enough energy to do my complete skin care/ person hygiene routine. and i went to bed not super late. i was productive, took care of myself, and got to spend a bit of time with my friends and family throughout the day. i didn’t feel like shit.

i hope y’all readying this have a day like that too

Not to be a violent person but every time someone in any social site sees a drawing, a song, or any piece of artistic expression and they simply comment something on the lines of "wow, this is art" or "I wish there were more art like this" or "I enjoy this art" "art" "art" "art" "art" "art" that word just brings something in me and as if I was possessed by a pompous critic from the 80s I want to slap them, grab them by the shirt and yell to their face very loudly YOU. ARE. A. FOOL. DESCRIBE HOW IT MAKES YOU FEEL. which of course translates into saying absolutely nothing, ignoring the comments and move on cause I'm in control of my feelings sometimes

watching Moana with my little brothers on our eleven hour car trip home and something hit me… this movie is completely unrealistic for one reason and one reason only.

how in the holy moly frick frack tick tack is moana able to keep her hair so beautiful THE ENTIRE TIME?!?! she gets dunked into the ocean at least seven times, not to mention her getting dragged into the sand and being able to swim in salt water with her eyes OPEN. and her hair is still a luscious gorgeous mane of curls. lemme tell y’all, if I even got dunked under the ocean water one time, my hair would be so nasty and crusty. I need her hair care routine, or maybe just her hair.

I was scrolling through the six of crows fanart tag and came across one of mine amid all the actual good looking ones and now I am embarrassed and will never draw again

Omw to delete that shit fr

bruh so i was looking up the stonathan tag on tiktok and one video just had a bunch of comments that were like “what about steve and eddie?!?” and “hear me out steve and eddie🫢” and i have no idea if they 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥 to sound like they thought steddie was the only good ship..but that’s what they sounded like. to me at least….plus i’m gonna guess like 70% of the fandom already ship steddie..not like it’s rare..plenty of others will hear you out…

..no need to talk about how steddie is better or you should ship that instead on a video 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 stonathan..like you can talk about steddie all you want, i don’t care, you do you,- but not on a post of something obviously not steddie (and especially when that thing has been overshadowed by pretty much all the ships and now especially steddie, and constantly ridiculed as well)

Please forgive my random bursts of reblogging

I'm teaching an algorithm my favorite flavor of dopamine

I get that nobody ever reads my Tumblr posts, but I have GOTTA get this GENUINE TRAGEDY off my chest.

It's dark, it's really not as cool inside as it is outside, but there was a breeze blowing in through the windows and rain.

Rain so heavy it echoed though the trees, rain so determined it fought against the whirl of the fans, a crescendoed melody of falling rain.

Thunder cracked like an instrument right up beside it- some crashes so fierce they shook the house, others so soft it was like hearing whispers from a mile away.

Nature's harmony so perfect sitting still was like melting away. The gentle smell of fresh fallen rain wafted in though the cool breeze, drawing in every sense of sensation like the most pleasant drowning possible.

(The cat, distrubed by the fierce thunder sat on my lap awaiting calming pets)

Everything was so clear and heavy like it was never going away, and I thought this was the perfect moment to rest (*has been in a perpetual state of burnout) if I had a nice warm bowl of soup.

Thr kitchen was quiet, the house presumably asleep. Safe.

Not only was the house not asleep, but the house dragged me into staying awake and waking up more than the half asleep exhausted self I was. But, armed with soup, I retreat, awaiting the safe haven I had left.

Thr thunderous applause? Gone. The choir of rain that seemed endless? Gone. The gentle cool air and subtle dew drops riding on the breeze? Now, no more than a humid fog.

why jnkjkhjlkljjn i dont know who htat is