hello vonnie
I'd rather be in outer space đ¸
Peter Solarz
NASA
will byers stan first human second

romaâ
Sweet Seals For You, Always
ojovivo

izzy's playlists!
Keni

titsay
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
Claire Keane
DEAR READER
KIROKAZE

⣠Chile in a Photography âŁ
almost home
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
Not today Justin
Misplaced Lens Cap

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@art-vents
Donât let anyone silence your voice or steal your power, which is your vote.
Your vote is private. Your vote is your own.
Vote accordingly.
How many "Trump votes" are abusive MAGA husbands or boyfriends who essentially got two votes, while their wife or girlfriend got none?
To be clear: abusive men may think their wife or girlfriend belongs to them, including their vote. But legally, this is voter fraud.
Report these criminals.
Legally, this is voter intimidation.
IF YOU WITNESS OR ARE A VICTIM OF VOTER INTIMIDATION (like what Tom Cox is confessing to in the OP) or other violations of voting rights laws in the US:
Alert a poll worker, if you're at a polling place
Report that shit to the Department of Justice via phone (1-800-253-3931 or 202-307-2767), fax (202-307-3961), email ([email protected]), or their online form.
Contact your state or local elections board.
Your vote is your own. You don't have to tell anyone who you voted for. You can lie about who you voted for. Keep yourself safe out there.
You can also call or text the Election Protection Hotline
English call or text: 866-OUR-VOTE
Spanish call: 866-VE-Y-VOTA
Arabic call: 844-YALLA-US
Asian Languages call: 888-API-VOTE
And if you are in a situation where a spouse or partner is the one doing the voter intimidation to you, like Tom up there is, there are intimate partner violence orgs in your state and many towns who are there to help you. Because what Tom is doing is not okay, and you don't have to live like that.
I love my job, but reblogging employment jelly for someone else I love.
in a catholic church thinking abt spamano. this is how the world should be
Good news, tungle.hellsite, the first positive update weâve had in years lets you write text posts with MAXIMUM GAY! Absolutely RAGING homosexuality on main!
For those of you on mobile
JDKSLAL I REBLOGGED THIS THINKING IT WAS A JOKE BUT DUDE DOPE
AT THE VOLTRON FANDOM, SPECIFICALLY THE RUDE PEOPLE IN THE FANDOM
YALL ARE SOME RUDE BITCHES.
Iâm sorry but they didnât fucking queerbate us. Queerbating is when your same-sex ship holds hands, hugs, and does couple things and says things that typical couples would say. Queerbating IS NOT when your same-sex ship does not make endgame.
YOU SHOULD NOT GO AFTER THE VOICE ACTORS/CREATORS/STORY BOARD ARTIST BECAUSE YOUR SHIP DID NOT MAKE THE CUT. ITS A FUCKING CARTOON, THIS IS NOT SOMETHING THAT IS GOING TO AFFECT YOU 2,3,4 OR EVEN 5 YEARS DOWN THE ROAD.
GROW UP.
Iâm sorry if this didnât make sense but the screenshots on Instagram from the Voltron twitter fandom, have got me livid and irate. This is my personal opinion.
Everyone has the name of their supposed soulmate printed on the inside of your wrist. You, however, are defiant, and begin dating someone thatâs not your soulmate. It turns out that not meeting someone with the magic expectation that youâre âmeant to be for each other and will get married and live happily ever afterâ actually made you two get along pretty well, and youâre now deeply in love with them. However, after several years of dating this person, both your and your S.O.âs real âsoulmatesâ find you, and theyâre both furious that you didnât wait for them.
I was thirteen years old, tracing the name of my soulmate over and over again with my index finger. My family had just moved across the country, to a nice suburban area just an hour away from the city. I had been sad to leave my sleepy hometown, sure, but it felt like the world was opening up for me. Winston, read the name on my wrist. There hadnât been a Winston where I grew up, and everybody knew it. It was one of those small towns, where everybody knew everybody else. Kids would whisper behind my back, wondering who this mysterious âWinstonâ was. Adults would pat my head and tell me to be patient. I definitely wasnât the only person in town to have a âmissingâ soulmate, but it felt like I was the only one who was bothered by those comments. For everybody else, thatâs just the way things were. Soulmates were important, after all. The person you were destined to be with. It did sound nice, in a way. As I continued to run my finger across my wrist, I smiled. Our new home was so much bigger, I was certain I would find him! And then I wouldnât have to worry about what anybody else said. I imagined what he would be like, once I met him. I pictured someone quiet and intelligent, like me. I bet he liked books, especially mysteries. He would be so kind, the type of person you could easily fall in love with. I couldnât wait to meet him.
The beginning of high school was rough. I was a naturally introverted person, and I struggled to make new friends. I didnât hear about anybody named Winston around school. I felt lonely, empty. I ate lunch alone, sitting underneath a nice tree. I hoped that it made me seem mysterious and artsy to any outside observers, instead of pathetic and alone like I really felt. Then, one afternoon, a boy approached my tree in the corner.
âHey, youâre in my english class, right? My name is Jackson, whatâs yours?â
I deflated a little, hearing his name. A part of me hoped that my soulmate would be the one to come save me from my lonliness.
âSara. Iâm new around here.â
âNice to meet you, Sara! Do you wanna come hang out with my friends? I can introduce you!â
âYeah⌠that sounds nice.â
He offered me his hand. As I reached to take it, I caught a glimpse of the tattoo on his wrist. Valerie. My hand clasped around his, and he pulled me up. I wasnât alone, after that. Jackson was a very friendly person, always carrying a conversation and making sure everybody felt included. We became fast friends, and I became an integral part of his ever-expanding circle of friends. Whenever things felt rough, heâd be there to brighten my day. I felt comfortable around him. Jackson made me feel⌠happy.
I was sixteen when Jackson smiled at me and I realized I was in love. I panicked, honestly. Sure, people dated outside of their soulmates, but it was usually a very temporary arrangement. I didnât want to ruin what I had. Jackson and I never talked about soulmates much. He had gotten dumped by a girl because she suddenly found her soulmate, so it was a bit of a sore subject for him. At least he was open to the idea of dating outside of his soulmate? I groaned, falling back onto my bed. I looked at the Winston tattooed on my wrist. I remember all of the things I had heard growing up. I would meet him eventually. He was my soulmate. I just had to be patient. Then I thought about the deep lonliness I had felt before. I thought about all the good memories I had made with my new friends. Winston hadnât saved me from that lonliness. Winston hadnât introduced me to the friends I would come to treasure dearly. No, Jackson had done that. Jackson was my closest friend and I wasnât going to lose him because I was still waiting for some Winston to come and sweep me off my feet. At that moment, I knew that I was making the right choice.
When Jackson accepted my confession, I cried out of sheer relief. He laughed gently and pulled me close. He said that he never really believed in the whole soulmate business anyway, and that some Valerie couldnât replace how special I was to him. I giggled and just replied with a simple âI love you.â People saw how in love we were, but claimed that it wasnât meant to last. To their surprise, we lasted over a month, the average length of non-soulmate relationships. Then a month turned into six months, and six months turned into a year, and soon we had graduated high school. We stuck together through college, shocking everybody who didnât know us well. We moved into an apartment together, and our relationship was still as strong as ever. For our fifth anniversary, Jackson got us matching bracelets with each otherâs names etched into them. They were just big enough to cover our natural soulmate tattoos. I loved them. Finally getting to see his name on my wrist felt right.
We had been dating for seven years when it happened. I was carrying some packages back to our apartment when a man I didnât recognize noticed me. I mustâve seemed like I was struggling to hold onto everything, because he came over and offered to help me. I unlocked the door to my apartment and set everything inside. I turned to the man, who looked to be in his twenties.
âThanks for the help. I donât think Iâve seen you around here before?â
He smiled softly. âAh, probably not⌠I just moved into the apartment a couple doors down. My name is Winston. And you areâŚ?â
He held out his hand for a handshake, and my blood ran cold. On his wrist, clear as day, was Sara. I faltered, not knowing what to do.
âAre you okay?â
âY-Yeah! Iâm Valerie!â I said, saying the first female name that came to my head. Which happened to be the name on my boyfriendâs wrist. This was fine, right?
âOoookay? Nice to meet you, Valerie.â
We shook hands, and I felt a pit forming in my stomach.
âThanks again for helping me. Why donât you come in for some tea as thanks?â
I knew I was playing with fire, but I couldnât help being curious about who my soulmate was. Who was this man I had daydreamed about since I was a kid? Funnily enough, he was incredibly close to the guy I had imagined. He was gentle and softspoken. He loved reading, and he was an aspiring mystery novelist. The more I talked to him, the more he felt like an old friend, somebody I had known for years. He told me that he was new to the city and he felt like a fish out of water. I felt a pang in my chest, remembering those early days of high school. I knew Winston could use a friend. And if that friend had to be me⌠so be it. I explained the situation to Jackson, and I promised him it wouldnât change things between us. Both of us became good friends with Winston. He still believed my name was Valerie, and when he asked about why I always covered my wrist I claimed that my tattoo had been warped in a childhood accident. There had been cases of tattoo injuries in the past, so it wasnât that outlandish of a lie. But other than that, the three of us became close friends.
One day I received a text from Winston, and my heart dropped.
âCome over to my apartment. I have something important to talk about. Bring Jackson.â
âHe knows. He know, and now heâs going to hate me forever,â I cried.
âYou donât know that,â Jackson said.
However, my fears were confirmed when we entered Winstonâs apartment. Next to him sat a petite blonde girl, and she looked pissed. Winstonâs expression was deadly serious. Jackson and I silently took a seat across from the pair.
âYouâre name isnât Valerie, is it?â Winston said.
All I could do was nod.
âYeah, your name isnât Valerie because thatâs my goddamn name! And Jackson is my soulmate, not yours!â The girl seethed, flashing her soulmate tattoo. There it was, on her wrist. Jackson.
âYouâre name is Sara, isnât it?â Winston continued.
âYes.â
âAnd your tattooâŚ?â
I took off my bracelet and showed him.
âWeâre soulmates. And you never told me. Why?â
âWhy the hell do you think? Itâs cuz sheâs stolen my soulmate and she doesnât want to lose him!â Valerie growled.
âHey, look, Sara didnât steal anybody. Weâve been together for years, and weâre happy like this,â Jackson interjected.
âWinston, Iâm sorry I lied to you. I really, really am. Youâve quickly become one of my closest friends, and I can say that with real confidence. I didnât want you to expect a romantic relationship from me, because as close as we are, Iâve never felt the same romantic spark that I feel with Jackson. But⌠youâre still my soulmate. That wonât ever change,â I said.
âIf you had just waited-â Winston started.
âIf I had waited, I wouldâve missed out on seven amazing years with the love of my life. The two of us were meant to find each other, and Iâm glad we did. But if I had waited, I couldâve lost what Iâve made for myself.â
âCan⌠can you really find love outside of your soulmate?â Winston asked. He seemed less angry and more uncertain.
Jackson swung an arm around my shoulder. âI think the two of us are living proof of that.â
âHey! What about me!?â Valerie said.
âIâd love to get to know you, Valerie, but Iâm afraid if youâre looking for romance Iâm already taken.â
âI- ARGH!â Valerie stomped out of the apartment.
âWell, thatâs a shame,â Jackson said.
âReally? She seems pretty mean,â I said.
âIâll talk to her. Sheâs stubborn, but sheâs not a bad person. She works at that coffee shop I like to write at,â Winston said.
âMaybe you two should date,â Jackson joked.
âW-what!? I donât think I like her in that wayâŚâ
And with that, things slowly went back to how theyâd been. I turned my bracelet over in my hand, and put it on my other wrist. That way, I could display the names of both of the people who had become so important to me.
Love it, amigo!
More stories here
Welcome back to Tumblr. Would you like some discourse? Or a funny picture?
Or maybe you want⌠me?Â
I want a Triple Baconator, large fries, 2 chocolate chunk cookies, a large orange Hi-C, and one small vanilla frosty.
Alright thatâs a Triple Baconator, one large fry, two cookie, a large Pepsi, and⌠oh, Iâm sorry, but our frosty machine is broken. Would you like anything else or will that complete your order? Â
I said I wanted a Large Orange Hi-C.Â
Alright, so thatâs a Triple Baconator, two large fries, a cookie, a large Pepsi, a large Hi-C, and no frosty. Will that complete your order?Â
Yes, it will. Thank you.
Iâm pulling up to the first window now.
[at the first window]
hey, you had the uh, two steak quesaritos, one cheesy potato griller, and a large baja blast?Â
hdjghkggjfhkfgjdgjgdj
aight next window pleaseÂ
Some tumblr tips for artists
⢠only the first five tags are serchable so make um count.
â˘Some of the most popular art related tags are #art, #illustration, #design, and #artists on tumblr.
⢠If you put a link in your post it wonât appear in serch results
⢠The best time to post seems to be from around 8pm to midnight east coast time
⢠socialize with other artists. Comments and asks are appreciated by a lot of us, and being friendly will encourage others to check out your stuff
Thank you for sharing these tips @evan-bryant! Really great stuff to keep in mind!
I did not know that about the tags!
psa to all my artfriends looking to get more traction with their art!
reqâd by @dracus16, and i wholeheartedly agree
*applauds bisexually*
me yelling âlets GO lesbiansâ but following me are a bunch of calico kittens
that BUBBLY laugh!!!!!
19 Men Go Shirtless And Share Their Body Image Struggles
The fruitless quest for a âperfectâ body isnât unique to women, Â though based on the body image conversations we tend to hear, itâs easy to think so.
Spoiler alert: Men have body insecurities, too, and thatâs nothing to be ashamed of.
ďťżPhotos by: Damon Dahlen via The Huffington Post
This is so important.
Whyâd they only choose men with conventionally attractive bodies?
if ur gay and like reptiles, reblog this. iâm trying to prove a point to myself
i donât want people to get hyped up about the dragon prince just bc some guy that worked on avatar made it cause the last time yall did that we got voltron so
To those who are fans of MARVELâŚStan needs our helpâŚplease watch the video and spread the word!
I know I said I wouldnât do any Marvel based posts after Mr. Ditko passed away, but this has to be known. This has to be shared. If only for Stan Leeâs sake. I cannot believe how horrible people can be. And to hear his own daughter is treating him so shabilly. This breaks my heart.
Anyone who claims to be a real Marvel fan will reblog this on all social media platforms. And youâll write to the actors of the Marvel movies to help us also. It seems like only the actors and us, the fans, are the ones who really care about Mr. Lee anymore. Please guys. We have to help him. NOW.
Stan Lee is a hero to a lot of us. Itâs time that we be a hero for him. And even if you donât like Marvel, anyone who doesnât tolerate elder abuse should help!
@onimi18 @bbb35 @polarspaz @bramblerose4 @queenie-dee @toto-sakigami-mockingbird @chi-chi-tianshi @bulecelup @mrsbumbleb @damare-draws @ask-spiderpool @wakandaabitch @missrosiewolf @thedivinestarling
Please please please reblog this.
Stan Lee created Marvel Comics.
Stan Lee changed the world of entertainment as we know it by diverging from the norm and encouraging the acceptance of those who are different (X-Men mutants in 1963).
Stan Lee, at the age of 95, is giving up on life because everyone close to him is depending upon him like vultures.
Please please please reblog this. Maybe someone with influence can help him. Maybe the state will step in if enough people but them about it. Maybe we can make Stanâs twilight years enjoyable instead of the hell heâs going through.
Thanks you.
âExcelsior!â
REBLOGGGGGGGGGGGG
I am so angry at the world for making this man feel like he doesnât have anything worthy in his life. Stan Lee is a hero who helped many of us with the universe he created. And now we should help him.
where! has! my! passion! gone! I had it abundantly when I was a child, and I must have dropped it along the way, but I cannot figure where!
oh hey folks fun update, i found my passion again? i just had to find my right outlet, get to a place where I have aspirations, dispel apathy and pursue what I love, itâs all good and swell!
reblog this to find the right outlet, get to a place where you have aspirations, dispel apathy and pursue what you love, and rediscover your passion.