a special thanks to all fanfiction writers out there. you’re srsly writing for fun so I can read, laugh and cry over your stories?! Thank you!

full-force slamming my cock into a cliff face that ive painted to resemble a pussy after watching the roadrunner fuck it with ease

That enough Tumblr for today

log back on and read my post you son of a bitch

Never forget how far you’ve come, despite how far you still have to go

“I would die for my kids” your children want an apology

your made up scenario isn’t real (shocker) and makes no difference when your kids are starving for your acknowledgment of the pain you caused them. you’re only performing the role of a good parent, without having to actually do any heavy lifting

[Image ID: Tumblr tags reading: #you'll die for me. awesome. will you break a habit for me? will you learn something new for me? will you fix your mistakes for me? #dying for me is surprisingly easy - it's often passive and instantaneous and you only need to do it once #will you do the hard thing of constantly and consistently putting in the work again and again and again? /End ID]

"did i tell u this already?" we are in a timeloop and i am in love with u tell me again

don’t focus on your responsibilities you need to make gay shit for a dying fandom

[Image IDs: three sections of text: "He describes her pace as very slow;" "He takes her medications on her own accord" Suicidal Ideation: She sometimes has thoughts of ending his life" /end]

The thing about Cottagecore is that is a fetishized aesthetic of country life, divorced from labor and idealized by a primarily urban audience with a backward looking ethos of tradition. They are not prepared for the stresses of a rural life: farming; harvesting; tapping pumpkins to ensure none of them have been replaced with flesh; losing out on income by having to use one of your pigs in a blood sacrifice to paint protective sigils over your doors and windows; checking cracks and chimneys for the flesh-vines of the Pumpkin Lord; having to decide, before the Growth is complete, whether that's really your tradwife or an amassment of vines, leaves, and blood in the shape of your tradwife; ignoring their desperate pleas that "I'm me! No! No!" as you burn them alive, realizing too late you picked wrong; and the exploitative corporate nature of commercial farming in 2024. All seen through a deeply colonial lens, of course

When I made this post I did not expect it to be an effective test of which Tumblr users actually read a post fully before reblogging, and yet