The boy who enjoyed fallout as a kid, still enjoys it as a woman.
hello vonnie

★

⁂
cherry valley forever

blake kathryn
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
wallacepolsom
almost home
will byers stan first human second
noise dept.

shark vs the universe
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
Jules of Nature

JBB: An Artblog!
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
tumblr dot com

if i look back, i am lost

seen from United States
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@breathing-sarcasm
The boy who enjoyed fallout as a kid, still enjoys it as a woman.

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im going to fix my entire life
When?
Like Um. later
liking a character from a thing you don’t like
3 hours of sleep = i hate people who laugh
0 ours of sleep = waouw 🌼🌼🌼🌼🐎
we all need to take better care of our selfs or we might Pass away

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Rabbotfest - Day 3: You came/You called
“Please leave a message at the tone.” Beep.
“Hey, Jack.” Robby coughs. He didn’t plan what he would say if he didn’t answer; didn’t even plan what he’d say if he did. “I, uh, I don’t know. I’m at… I don’t know. Some place in upstate New York.” He kicks at the ground. Loose dirt tumbles over the edge of the cliff. “Nice views. Mountains and whatever.”
He sighs. “I’m fucking exhausted. Don’t feel like you need to call me back or anything. Can’t guarantee I’ll answer. Anyway, um, bye.”
Robby ends the call with a groan and kneads the kink in his neck. Though he loathes to admit it, everyone was right; starting his ride after a long shift was a bad idea. His bike is parked outside a last-minute room he booked at some shoddy motel with an unsuspectingly good view. Though maybe this is what it’s like outside of a city. Without traffic and apartments to block the horizon, the world grows.
Robby crawls under the scratchy covers of the motel bed and lets the day catch up to him. Within seconds, he falls into a dreamless sleep.
He wakes hours later when the sun is high in the sky, streaming yellow beams into his room. His body aches from the lumpy mattress, and humid air is winning the fight against the crappy air conditioning. The thought of sitting on a leather seat that’s been baking in the sun all morning and riding in a thick jacket is wildly unappealing. Not even a full day in, and he’s already regretting this trip.
He gets dressed and heads outside. Next to his bike is a familiar black truck. Strange.
Muffled shouting breaks through the walls of the main building as Robby approaches to return his key. A deep frown etches itself on his face; that voice can’t belong to whom he thinks it does.
“Please! Please! Ma’am,” the voice says. “I’m not some creep, or a crazy person, but I really, really need to know. If you could please—“
“Sir,” the receptionist says calmly. “I’ve already told you; I can’t give out guest information.”
“You don’t have to tell me the room. Just tell me if he checked in here. I know that’s his bike outside—“
Robby is close enough now to see through the window; he’d know that stance anywhere. “Jack?”
Jack whips around just as Robby steps through the door. Quick as lightning, he latches his arms around Robby’s shoulders. “Fuck, Mike. Oh my God, you scared the shit out of me.”
“I— what’re you doing here?”
“You left me that fucking voicemail. I thought…” he shakes his head, and hides himself in Robby’s neck.
Robby tentatively wraps his arms around Jack’s middle. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the receptionist take the opportunity to leave. “You drove all this way because of a voicemail?”
“Was barely six hours,” Jack mutters. His lips brush against Robby’s skin.
Robby checks his watch. 10:30am. “You only got off work three hours ago?”
Jack takes a step back, but keeps a firm hand on the back of Robby’s neck to balance himself. “Shen said he was good on his own, so I left early.”
“Why?”
“I called you back, and you didn’t answer.” Jack’s chin wobbles.
“I was asleep,” Robby laughs shallowly. “It’d been a long day.”
“You said you wouldn’t answer.” The wrinkles around Jack’s eyes contort with the scrunch of his nose as he holds back tears. “I couldn’t risk it.”
“I just meant because I might be on the road.”
“Don’t,” Jack says sharply, “act like I’m overreacting. You know why I was scared.”
Robby’s shoulders slump. “You must be tired. I still have a room.”
Jack nods. “Then we’ll go home.”
“Okay.”
“Really?”
Robby considers the dread that filled him at the thought of riding further out this morning. “Yeah. Really.”
Jack nods, eyes locked on Robby’s like he’s looking for the rug that could be pulled from under him. When he decides to trust the answer he’s been given, he wraps an arm over Robby’s shoulders and leans his weight on him.
“Leg bothering you?”
“I’ve had a long day too.”
“Don’t doubt it.” He happily takes Jack’s bulk and guides him back toward the room. “How’d you find me?”
“I’ll always find you.”
A laugh breaks through him. “How romantic.”
“I have my moments.” For the first time all morning, Jack smiles. “And I hid an AirTag on your bike.”
Robby sucks in a breath and digs his fingers deeper into Jack’s waist. “I’m going to let that slide for now.”
“You should be grateful I did it.”
He is.
The falling star
Prints
I thought about just tagging this 'nuff said, but it's not.
I want to say something to all of the women under 50 on this site. Ready? You do not have to be over 50 to start taking up space.
Can I make that blink? Is that a thing Tumblr can do? Because, seriously. The sooner you believe you are allowed to take up space, the better life will be.

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What were the biggest swords in history actually for? (Hint: they were bigger than this one)
More of what I do
Jester and Molly beloveds <333
more ancient horse mamaposting
So everyone knows the struggle of shipping a rarepair and having a very limited amount of fic or art devoted to them - if you’re lucky, since some have none.
But I just wanted to do a quick shoutout to the writers and artists who devote time to these otps- because often your work won’t get enough attention to feel truly validated. Your work may never get the hits/kudos/reblogs/comments a more popular pairing will, but don’t despair- someone out there is happy because you did the thing, and honestly? If you’re happy you did the thing, then keep doing the thing.
Thank you for the time and effort you put into the ships no one talks about. You’re amazing and don’t forget it.
Sincerely, another writer stuck in rarepair hell
The reason why so many of y'all's feminism sucks is because you still believe deep down in your hearts that there are only two kinds of people in the world: precious, ethereal, fragile dollthings called "women", and violent, lustful, rage-fueled apes called "men". Until you throw that idea away, 3rd-grade-tier "girls rule boys drool, girls are princesses and boys are stinky :(" is as feminist as we'll ever get-- and I hope it's obvious that that's lightyears away from the bare minimum of where we need to be.
I don't know how I'm supposed to explain to ostensibly trans-friendly feminists that "women are beautiful soft things made of glass, men are obsessed with violence and sex" is exactly what the patriarchy wants you to believe. Patriarchy wants you to believe that being a woman and/or having a vagina (patriarchy generally believes those two things are synonymous) makes one shatter on impact with reality. It makes you easier to control if you are scared shitless of the other half of the population, and it makes you more compliant with your lot in life if you believe it is in the nature of the other half of the population to rape and kill rather than realise those were choices those individual rapists and murderers made. There is no way to make gender essentialism progressive and feminist, because it is one of patriarchy's tools of subjugation. Stop trying to make it progressive.
And I can scream all of that from the rooftops over and over again, and what I hear in reply is "Trans men really are men because no woman would ever decide to become an inherently evil repugnant rapist ape", and "You're so right. Trans women are women because they too are pretty delicate little objects I can fuck", and "You're non-binary? So are you fucktoy non-binary or sexpest non-binary?", and my patience runs ever thinner.

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Would you fake a pregnancy if it would TREMENDOUSLY benefit you?
Yes
Depends*
No
I physically cannot get pregnant
*Depends, as in “under what circumstances, how it benefits me, how long I have to pretend, what I have to do to convince people, who I have to deceive, do I have any help, are there any consequences and if so, is it worth it, etc.”
This poll was submitted to us and we simply posted it so people could vote and discuss their opinions on the matter. If you’d like for us to ask the internet a question for you, feel free to drop the poll of your choice in our inbox and we’ll post them anonymously (for more info, please check our pinned post).
You know I really adore the idea of Thranduil spending enough time stuck to Bard’s side to start thinking “ehhh maybe humans and dwarves aren’t so bad”
and then a few decades later and Legolas is introducing Gimli to him like “Ada this is Gimli :D isn’t he so cool :D”
and suddenly thranduil remembers why elves are obviously the only cool people ever because what is this weird little ginger thing ew no Legolas honey let’s find you a nice elf
does this
does this make sense 🥹
dad is definitely in for a surprise...