Sometimes i like looking through lists of baby names just to see what Big Baby has come up with and some of them are actually insane
Who tf naming their kid 'Flannery'😭

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣

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Andulka
will byers stan first human second
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Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
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Mike Driver
Not today Justin

tannertan36
Peter Solarz
we're not kids anymore.
Today's Document
noise dept.
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@anci-sp
Sometimes i like looking through lists of baby names just to see what Big Baby has come up with and some of them are actually insane
Who tf naming their kid 'Flannery'😭
reminder that it's having sex WITH someone not doing sex TO someone
the opposite of bare minimum is hairy maximum.
ok hear me out, these guys as a throuple
i couldn't find good pictures but DO YOU SEE THE VISION I'M NOT GOING INSANE RIGHT
In our family portrait we look pretty happy
Drowning in Love
I feel as though every time I open my eyes I am drowning in a love that I cannot feel. Always romance novels drenched in longing and rejection and red roses, passionate French kissing on the couch, or a forbidden love that stretches across galaxies, devotion rivalling the light of the blazing sun in a dazzling major motion picture.
Every time I open my eyes, I see dating apps, mixers, “Find your soulmate” quizzes, pick up lines as flimsy and hollow as a paper straw, not deep enough or strong enough to even serve as pick-me-up.
Every time I open my eyes, I see a world full of people desperately searching for a second half, as if they are not already whole, clawing through the rubble and trash for something that can fix their perceived inadequacies, as if they are incomplete and indebted to someone that they have never seen before.
Every time I open my eyes, I see love bombs that twist a person from the inside out and poisons their mind; words like mistletoe that beckon forward, promising a passionate kiss, yet in the same breath buries its sick roots into one’s body to suck the life out of its host. I hear sweet nothings oozing in lust, whispered lovingly into ones’ ear, yet they mean and offer just as much.
I look at the mess through the eyes of an astronaut looking down at earth, distant detached disinterested. No celebrity crush, first love, first kiss, first partner or date. There are no sparks in my chest, no tugging on the strings of my heart. “You must be so alone,” they say. “Whatever are you to do?”
And I think of my family, my parents who came from households filled with dysfunction and arguments neglect, reeking with the smell of fish and overwork, yet they fought tooth and nail to carve something out for themselves in a world made of unforgiving unyielding bedrock, even if their fingernails broke and their molars reduced to nubs, all to bring us into a world where they could spoil us rotten. I think of our house, filled with warmth and laughter, its walls fit to burst with all the love that it can barely contain.
And I think of my friends, of our hours-long talks on the phone, words transmitted across impossible distances that bring us ever closer, yet null and void of any intimacy that the romantics cherish so. I think of smiles and inside jokes, woven bracelets, stuffed plushies, secrets whispered over a game of Go Fish long forgotten.
And I think of them, and my chest bursts with pride, filled with warm yellow roses blooming on a summer day, the scent of citrus carried on its breeze.
“Whatever are you to do?” they ask, their faces full of pity.
And I smile softly to myself as I reply, “Whatever shall I do indeed?”
every time i see an aroace character they are either
emotionally constipated robot with the colour palette of wet cement
ancient immortal being who has transcended humanity entirely
clinically miserable in a way the narrative quietly links to their lack of romance
“above” love because they are cold, detached, hyperlogical, inhuman, traumatized, or secretly broken
literally coded grey. like physically grey. ash coloured. stone textured. dressed like a thundercloud.
what happened to whimsy. where is the aroace person who is loud and annoying and overinvested in niche hobbies. where is the aroace girl who collects stickers and screams during mario kart. where is the aroace guy who gossips constantly and wears tacky hawaiian shirts. where is the aroace knight who loves people so violently and devotedly that it reshapes the political structure of the narrative but simply does not want to kiss anybody about it.
i am once again asking writers to understand that aroace does not mean “devoid.” it does not mean empty. it does not mean tragic failed human approximation. it does not mean your most emotionally repressed character automatically counts as representation because he looked vaguely uncomfortable during a flirting scene once.
some of us are joyful. some of us are dramatic. some of us are deeply affectionate. some of us are extroverts. some of us flirt for fun. some of us hate flirting. some of us want queerplatonic partnerships so intense they would make victorian poets pass out in the street. some of us just want to live in a little house with three friends and six cats and a complicated board game collection (okay maybe that ones just me)
and FOR THE LOVE OF GOD let aroace characters have colour.
give me aroace characters in bright greens and obnoxious oranges and jewel tones. let them be warm. let them be expressive. let them laugh too loudly. let them love their friends openly. let them be desired without the story “fixing” them through romance. let them exist without a magical One Person unlocking their capacity for humanity through heterosexual eye contact.
also can we stop acting like romance is the sole narrative mechanism through which a character becomes emotionally fulfilled. there are other forms of intimacy. there are entire emotional ecosystems outside of dating. friendship can alter the course of a life. loyalty can become sacred. companionship can become world-defining. community can save somebody. devotion does not require romantic subtext to matter.
i want aroace characters whose stories are not about absence.
i want presence.
presence in friendships. presence in ambition. presence in loyalty and ritual and identity and grief and humour and obsession and joy. i want aroace characters who are alive in every conceivable direction instead of written like someone removed romance from a regular character and forgot to fill the empty space with humanity.
STOP MAKING US GREY.
unless the character is grey for unrelated reasons. in which case i expect equal opportunity coloration. make the allosexuals grey too.
Aro culture is (I’ve talked about this before but I’ll keep talking about it until it stops happening) seeing allo people call a story “queerbaiting” when it is literally about the power of platonic love and wanting to Go Feral
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why do homophobes say alphabet people instead of the gaybcs
People who complain (hah!) about Shen Yuan + Shang Qinghua's ship name being cumplane should be grateful that it isn't cucplane
Hey, are you evolution? Cus you turn my monkey into a Homo Erectus ;) 🐒🥸
Eye contact or smth idk I'm autistic
Y'all aren't ready for when straight-jackets are sexualised the same way maid outfits are
Ah where Shen Qingqiu transmigrates as Binghe’s prostate and everyone has a terrible time at Mu Qingfang’s biennial exam.
svsss is the weirdest fandom i love it
my stance on the trans athlete debate is always and forever going to be that sports should be completely desegregated because humans have one of the smallest levels of sexual dimorphism in the animal kingdom and the disparity we see between male and female performance is entirely caused by social factors rather than anything biological. “should trans women compete against cis women” i think cis men and cis women could compete fairly but that’s apparently a little too spicy for people to wrap their minds around bc they’ve been told their whole lives women are biologically inferior & never thought to question that. or wonder if it’s maybe a self fulfilling prophecy of some kind. are women biologically inferior or do they appear so because patriarchy demands that of us?
Moana x Ariel, they both yearn for what the other wishes they were without
"But what if people will pretend to need this accessibility option so they can be lazy! People who don't need it will use it!!" I don't actually care
I dont care if 9/10 of the people who use the wheelchair ramp arent actually in wheelchairs. As long as the 1 person who needs it has access to it.
I dont care if 9/10 people who use the automatic push button on the library door can actually push the door open themselves. As long as the 1 person who the door is too heavy for gets to use it.
I dont care if 9/10 people who buy the can tab opener, or the little guitar clamp that holds the chords for you, or the hand grip that helps you hold chop sticks, don't need any of it and just get it to "be lazy". As long as the one disabled person who needs it gets access to it.
I do not care. Oh my GOD I do not care. As long as there's a disabled person on this planet who the accessibility device will benefit, the accessibility device is necessary.
Also, if you're so worried about people being "lazy" by using accessibility devices, MORE worried than you are about disabled (visibly or not) people not having access to them, you have unchecked ableism you need to work through.
Edit: Please stop fucking talking about the capos. I am talking about the thing you clamp on the neck of the guitar that holds/changes chords with a button, not capos. Stay on topic.