OKAY TUMBLR. IT'S TIME TO SETTLE THIS ONCE AND FOR ALL.
Reblog this if you pronounce “.gif” as “GIF.”
NOT JIF,
GIF.
WE SHALL SEE WHICH ONE PREVAILS.
@heademptyvibesonly / heademptyvibesonly.tumblr.com
Reblog this if you pronounce “.gif” as “GIF.”
NOT JIF,
GIF.
WE SHALL SEE WHICH ONE PREVAILS.
ok i just wanna check something.... reblog if you've never watched/opened tumblr live
Reblog to cast
support group for guys who don’t have tiktok for a reason but are slowly watching all other apps turn into tiktok
english: coconut oil
french: :)
english: oh boy
french: oil of the nut of the coco
IM CRYINGNFN
english: ninety-nine
french: :)
english: oh no
french: four-twenty-ten-nine
english: potato
french: :)
english: oh geez
french: apple of the earth
french: papillon
english: :)
french: don’t
english: beurremouche
French: pamplemousse English: :) French: pls no English: raisinfruit
english: squirrel
german: :)
english: oh dear
german: oak croissant
english: helicopter german: :) english: uh oh german: lifting screwdriver
english: toes
spanish: :)
english: no don’t
spanish : fingers of the feet
english: bowl
spanish: :)
english: oh lordy
spanish: deep plate
english: car
polish: :)
english: i changed my mind
polish: that which walks by itself
french: coccinelle
UK english: ladybird!
american english: ladybug
french: weird
dutch: :)
french: …what
dutch: the good lord’s little animal
french: …ok
irish, polish and russian: *giggling*
french: …just tell me
irish, polish and russian: GOD’S SMALL COW
this is my favourite vine tbh
ME TOO
sometimes i catch myself being salty and im like damn????? take a nap?????
not to toot my own horn but im an okay person sometimes
not to brag but some people like me and tell me i am their friend
not to be that guy but i can adequately perform several mundane, marginally important tasks
okay to reblog if you want to show off that you too are a person who is barely competent in possibly more than one way
...I want to refute this but no, I....yeah
[video by dhtoomey. caption: Breaking news, short kings)
I'm like if a whore were celibate
one of my twitter friends recently said that if she could order up a fic it would be a story written by someone who has only ever read the classics, 1.5 star trek novelizations, and their mother’s romance novels from 1970, written about two people are so out of their minds horny for each other it causes them to make the absolute worst choices anyone’s ever made.
and i almost lost my mind laughing because i do know exactly what she means. there is a weird vibe i can sometimes sense within the first few paragraphs a fic that really bums me out. it’s almost like i can tell the author is thinking way too much about what i’m thinking about their id and it’s suddenly like we’re all suddenly wondering how riding a bicycle works when we’re mid-ride. when you start worrying too much audience interpretation or how a fic is going to do or play or ugh marketability, it genuinely adds some weird self-conscious distance to whatever you’re doing. and it’s the pits from the reader side because it removes so much horniness from your story even if the idea you have is genuinely good! i know this is not a niche complaint–you find it literally everywhere as every sector of the creative internet gets #content-ed and people can’t escape the stats of how any given creative outlet does.
but god there’s literally nothing better than sitting down and reading some freaknasty person’s art where they do not give a single shit if you like it. they had something to say and my god they were gonna say it. i’ve accidentally acquired so many kinks by clicking on a story where someone took me on the most insane ride of my life and i thrilled about it. i don’t wanna read about polite normal regular love. i don’t wanna read about people using therapy-speak on each other. i wanna read about two people feeling the biggest craziest feelings of their entire life and they cannot do anything about it except bang it out. what else are we doing here? if they’re not fucking down an entire house, well jed i don’t even wanna read it.
*flops onto bed* just so you know? this is true out there, in the dating scene as well. I have been on so many fucking dates. So many. And I get to date ¾/5 and it ends in “I’m not really interested in you romantically/sexually. Sorry.” UM. WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING THEN BESIDES WASTING MY FUCKING TIME? BECAUSE I GAVE YOU 3-20HOURS OF MY LIFE AND I DIDN’T EVEN GET FUCKED AND YOU’RE NOT EVEN HORNY? WE CAN’T EVEN GET TO THE FUCKING? BUT YOU DON’T EVEN BOTHER TELL ME YOU IDENTIFY AS ACE?
WAIT YOU AREN’T ACE? OR DEMI? REALLY?! JUST TELL ME YOU DON’T WANT TO FUCK ME THEN! NO, WAIT, THAT’S NOT IT? SO THEN WHAT IS IT? WHAT ARE YOU DOING THEN!? YOU LIKE ME, JUST….NOT…LIKE THAT? SO FRIENDS THEN. NOT FRIENDS. BUT ALSO NOT ROMANTICALLY. QUEER PLATONIC. OKAY NOT THAT BUT MAYBE MORE?
THEN WHAT? THEN LIKE WHAT? YOU HAVE TO TEST REALLY IS THAT NOT DEMI? CAN WE JUST STOP? BECAUSE I KNOW BY DATE 1 IF I’M COULD FUCK YOU AT 2 COULD NURTURE EMOTIONS!
NO?
NO WE’RE JUST NOT GOING TO GO NEAR SEX? AT ALL?
WHAT ARE WE DOING THEN WHEN WE’RE DATING - MEN, WOMEN, ENBIES, TRANSMEN, TRANSWOMEN, ALL GENDER FOLKS QUEER AND STRAIGHT IN BETWEEN, WHAT ARE WE DOING?
WHAT IS DATING THEN?!
...
well, the good news is that i've figured out why no one wants to fuck you.
#every time I see this picture I am briefly overwhelmed#this piece of art outlived its context and milieu#but. but. in reality there is no such thing#because art is made anew with every glance. it comes to life. awakens laughing#and time compresses. softens. the past is not so much a mystery if we remember we weren’t the first to dance.#this is what art is for#this is what it can do#it doesn’t only speak to us of our own humanity#it reminds us that humanity is shared. this girl isn’t dancing in a mirror. she is dancing with a friend.#paintings don’t simply show us the world. they help teach us how to live in it. (via @robotmango)
ronda slater, what I need is: a contemplation of bisexuality, from bi any other name: bisexual people speak out, edited by Lorraine Hutchins and Lani Kaahumanu, 1991