Reblogging this again now because DON’T GODDAMN FORGET

As a recovering Capitalism True Believer, and a former aspiring economist… this one hurts.

"I wasted my 20s", cool man, just in time for all the gay sex and weird tattoos you're about to have in your 30s

Osferth (drunk/hungover) Bonus +

For @vhagar-balerion-meraxes xo

No thoughts head empty, just him and his leather gloves

I'm very tired of this "queer college students should stop supporting Palestine, they'd kill you there!" I watched a hijabi ask a trans man, "but what name do you want to go by?" A butch giving a woman their hoodie so that she could keep her hair covered after the cops took her scarf. Muslim girls making sure the lesbian couple got through the system together. Religious men making sure green haired protestors got out safe. A Palestinian girl with an ex-southern baptist fiance, who definitely isn't a practicing Muslim, whose parents were raising hell for her. I don't want to hear it. Solidarity forever, free Palestine.

Queer muslim here. I couldn't have said it better myself. We are not free until all of us are free.

Nothing terrifies genocidal bigots more than the fact that solidarity between people transcends the artificial boundaries and categories they desperately cling to because they know it spells their doom

Can I just say how much I love the Ewan + Tom dynamic in promo

Like Ewan is so cerebral and deep in the lore, and even when he is in one of his BDSM outfits (slay 💅) he radiates this super earnest, wholesome, endearing appreciation for being a part of such a beloved series 🥹

And then Tom is magnetically witty and conversational, sardonic, casual, looking like he got 45 minutes of sleep the night before, and also for some reason he is always dressed like a grandpa and I love my bitchy elderly short king 👑

I think they compliment each other so well and have genuinely become great friends 🥰💚

i only know blue and bluey

No more farts !!!

Prints are avaible here.

when doctors ask if i have any history of cancer in my family and i have to say that yes my grandmother had 2 types of gastrointestinal cancer and they're like oh wow okay so we'll keep an eye out for that but i'm like no it was probably just all the nuclear radiation and they're like ok hm ok what the fuck do you mean and it's very weird seeing the look on american doctors' faces when you have to explain to them that believe it or not atomic bombs were dropped on this earth 2 generations ago and it did have consequences

I'm trying to prove a point to my brain: Reblog if you think fanfiction does not need sex to be good.

There is a trend I’ve noticed that smut fics tend to be much more popular than anything else and honestly I just want to have something to look at to remind myself and that writing doesn’t have to have sex to be worth putting out into the community.

1968 [Chapter 7: Apollo, God Of Music]

Series Summary: Aemond is embroiled in a fierce battle to secure the Democratic Party nomination and defeat his archnemesis, Richard Nixon, in the presidential election. You are his wife of two years and wholeheartedly indoctrinated into the Targaryen political dynasty. But you have an archnemesis of your own: Aemond’s chronically delinquent brother Aegon.

Series Warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), violence, bodily injury, character deaths, New Jersey, age-gap relationships, drinking, smoking, drugs, pregnancy and childbirth, kids with weird Greek names, historical topics including war and discrimination, math.

Word Count: 8.7k

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged! 🥰

💜 All of my writing can be found HERE! 💜

“My uncle, he is a doctor in Zabrze,” Ludwika says, red Yardley lips, Camel cigarette. No one cares if she smokes; she’s not campaigning to be the next first lady. Fosco is puffing on a cigar. Mimi sips drowsily at her Gimlet; you could use a few shots, but you’re making do with a Pink Squirrel, something sweet and feminine and without any bite. “So I go to him and he gives me a bottle of chlordiazepoxide.”

“Oh, Librium,” Mimi says, perking up.

Ludwika waves her hand dismissively; cigarette smoke wafts through the air. “Whatever. The next day I have my audition. A tiny man who thinks he’s God. And I give it a real shot, I try my best, I’m nice, I’m charming, but he doesn’t like me. He says my teeth are too big, like a mouse’s. This is very rude. I did not comment on his fidgety little rat hands. But okay, no problem, I have a plan. No one will stop me from getting out of Poland.”

Excuse me I have to cry a little