Fingerless gloves are the thigh highs of hands. I will not elaborate
wrong. ballroom gloves are the thigh highs of hands. fingerless gloves are the booty shorts of hands.
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open


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@millatheshieldmaiden
Fingerless gloves are the thigh highs of hands. I will not elaborate
wrong. ballroom gloves are the thigh highs of hands. fingerless gloves are the booty shorts of hands.

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I found someone’s tumblr logged in on this computer and all I did was change the icon
Really confused as to how my logo changed to kermit the frog. Unless im starting to have hallucinations from lack of sleep. Still. mindfucked.
I think the harm of denying people the right to control their own bodies is so, so much worse than the risk of people regretting the decisions they make. Regretting something you decided to do is a much healthier pain than the pain of regretting that you didn't get to have a choice.

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I think a lot of people would benefit from unlearning the idea that casual sex is inherently disgusting, harmful, or immoral just because they personally don’t want to partake in it. You can stand up for sexual safety and consent without acting like people who enjoy fucking strangers are degenerates. I take no issue with anyone asserting boundaries or stating that they’re not interested in certain kinds of sex or even sex as a whole. But when you condemn or express disgust at others for engaging in consensual sex, that’s when you start to sound like a puritan.
Btw, this includes self-proclaimed “feminists” who shame and lecture women for giving men “access” to their bodies. Bodies are not commodities and sex is not inherently transactional. You don’t lose anything by having sex on purpose with a person you find attractive. Sex is not some metaphysically transformative thing that bonds you to the other person forever. It is literally not that deep.
Why the fuck are you 30+ on tumblr
this is my house?
(dry laughter) People are getting upset about the presence of thirty-year-olds??
I have been here since 2008. I am seventy-three years old.
These mewling puling babes-in-arms trying to make the Olds go away can just run off behind the bike sheds and suck it. We are not going anywhere. We were here first.
How are you gonna have an old man yaoi site with no oldsters?
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the only super long Tumblr post I love
bring back shame
peer reviewed tags
The worst person you could ever meet in your lifetime still has a favorite breakfast cereal.
I knew a rapist who was an absolute ride-or-die friend to his gamer bros. Like, give the last dollar from his pocket to a friend who got a flat tire, and then turn around and go rape a Freshman that evening.
I knew a vicious child abuser who wept like a baby when her dog died.
The nastiest human being on the planet nevertheless feels obscurely melancholy sometimes, or has high spirits when they step out doors on the first warm day of spring, or has opinions on their favorite TV show and which side the toilet paper should hang on and whether or not the room should be cold or warm when you go to sleep.
We're all still just people. Complex, with fully-realized interior worlds.
None of that will save you from becoming a monster, if you decide to do monstrous things.
None of it makes you exempt from the consequences of monstrosity.
i cannot emphasize how much it sucks that people in movies don’t look real anymore. like conventionally attractive people have always been cast more as leads but up until like a decade ago they had visible age lines and textured skin and double chins and imperfect teeth. like whenever i’m feeling insecure i just have to watch a regular movie from the 70s and remind myself that im actually not unhygienic and disgusting for having teeth that are a little yellow and visible pores
genuinely social media has fucked everything up and we need to realize that the average person is normal and you are in fact allowed to make art and exist in the public eye while not looking like an airbrushed 20 year old and that your personal appearance really does not matter that much

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Don’t invite me anywhere last minute I enjoy doing nothing so I need to know ahead of time if my plan to do nothing needs to be changed
This is legit and people don’t realize it.
“hey what are you doing?” “nothing” “oh great! so you are avaliab-” “no you don’t understand. I’m doing nothing.”
I’m doing nothing. Actively. It’s important.
This is essential nothing I’m doing.
not my circus not my monkeys but thanks to my mutuals i know some of the lore
one time at a funeral i panicked and said the first drink i could think of and the bartender made me the pina colada With all the fixings all the trims all the bells and whistles i didnt even ask imagine youre at a funeral and the person besides you is drinking a pina colada with whip cream as tall as the drink with a cherry and an umbrella, thats what happened to me
i hate a recipe for a dish with "marry me" in the name. fuck off. gives tradwife energy i will not elaborate
making a recipe called "divorce me no prenup" the way you're gonna want at least half
in light of today's events, i want to share a story i was told during a study abroad summer in italy, where i took a class on the rise of fascism.
the picture below is the site of a mass grave. captive partisans were brought here by nazis, forced to dig, and then executed on the spot.
our tour guide, who was delighted by our group because tourists never ask about fascism, walked us forty minutes to this vineyard in the middle of nowhere. there were no signs on the road. us americans were worried about trespassing, since no one on the property was around.
he took us to this grove and explained that the partisans were young communists from the nearby town of arezzo. local land & business owners, even their parents and friends, had eagerly ratted them out because they saw nazi occupation as bringing order back to the region.
we learned that many in central italy still to this day see nazis as heroes and americans as villains, because the nazis got rid of those troublesome punks while the americans brought bombs and tanks.
then our tour guide informed us that his own grandfather was one of the partisans executed here.
he told us that the nazis lined them up one by one and shot each in the head, and more times in the chest. but human beings are hard to kill, and it was known that even this kind of brutality was survivable.
so they threw grenades into the grave, just to be sure.
this was standard practice.
nestled in the bushes nearby with zero fanfare stands a single solitary monument. there are monuments just like it all across italy.
what stuck with me was not just the cruelty of the nazis. it was the callousness of the turncoats, who never stopped believing that they had done the right thing.
whether by nature or nurture, there is a class of people who will always prefer death and destruction over a reduction in profits. they cannot be reasoned with. they cannot be taught empathy. they will watch young people shot, dismembered, and buried alive, and they will say that god is good.
there is no reform. there is no compromise.
believe what your eyes see. listen to what your heart tells you. we are surrounded by systems that exist to launder guilt and naturalize structures of oppression, so that we side against our senses.
but you know exactly what is happening. you do.
we are waking up from a dream of peace in the interregnum of a war that never went away. the fruits of our nation's conduct, a largely bipartisan project from the start, have arrived by the truck-full. it did not come out of nowhere. it's not new, or unprecedented, or even particularly surprising.
what it IS, however, is the present. it's not a history book. it's not a mass grave. it is happening right now.
and right now, this moment and each moment after, is the *only* moment you will ever own.
stories will be told about this era for years to come. but only we are its authors.
only you.
only us.

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"you attract what you fear"
AHHHHHH A RICH BENEFACTOR WHO WILL FUND ALL MY WEIRD CREATIVE ENDEAVOURS NOOOOOO STAY AWAYYYY
I think some of the loneliness of autism is that you feel like you hurt people just by Interacting Wrong, but you don’t know how to Interact Right, and the more effort you put into it, the more exhausted you are and the more artificial it comes across (with the end result of people still being upset with you). and it’s not anyone’s fault for not liking Being Interacted With Wrong, and it’s not your fault for doing it so wrong, but it is very, very lonely.
anyway, every single book I write ever is going to secretly be about autism