let men be soft without being autistic.
let men be quirky without being autistic.
let men be anxious without being autistic.
let men have interest without being autistic.
let men exist, and be loved, without being autistic.

blake kathryn
i don't do bad sauce passes
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
tumblr dot com
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DEAR READER
Cosmic Funnies
One Nice Bug Per Day
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
No title available

Kiana Khansmith
AnasAbdin
we're not kids anymore.
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
d e v o n
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her

@theartofmadeline
Keni
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from Netherlands

seen from United States
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seen from United States
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seen from United States
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seen from France
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@pandamothh
let men be soft without being autistic.
let men be quirky without being autistic.
let men be anxious without being autistic.
let men have interest without being autistic.
let men exist, and be loved, without being autistic.
I love characters who would die for each other but will not, under any circumstances, communicate a single honest feeling.
month starting on a monday we have no excuse guys lets get to work and lock the fuck in
yk its actually very chic and avant garde to start on tuesday the second
many claim theres nothing more subversive and revolutionary than starting on wednesday the third
there are simply no words in the english language that can describe starting on thursday the fourth. thats how iconic it is
choosing to start on friday the fifth. i just think its very inspiring
affirmation: I am capable of finishing the works of pornographic fanfiction I start writing
why is this post completely broken in every way imaginable
Broken notes… deactivated account… removed image….
Finally, we have them all.
In addition: OP’s name is just… gone. No “[insert username]-deactivated[insert a bunch of numbers]” as is the standard for deactivated blogs.
Just the world “deactivated.” Look upon their post, ye mighty, and despair.
It’ll be almost impossible to find this post unless it wanders across your dash.
It wandered across mine. I shall help it travel forward.
this is not a place of honor
Oh hey post of Ozymandius, good to see you again standing on your feet in a desert where no one remembers you
1) any stretching is better than no stretching
2) any vegetable is better than no vegetable
3) statistically you will never be the worst person at anything, there is always someone in the world who is worse at stuff than you are
"But Sarah J Mass confirmed-" and yet that's not what she wrote.
this loudass man next to a quiet boy
awww the like button turns into a rainbow when you press it! that's so cute...hey staff what's with all the trans women you keep nuking?
i think we should be ridiculing them more for this. you don't get to try and go all "queer website" when your staff likes to go on nuking sprees targeting the trans fem users
🌻
A single day on Venus (243 Earth days) is longer than its year (225 Earth days), and it spins backward. The surface of some neutron stars rotates \(716\) times per second, meaning their edges move at a quarter the speed of light.
also, i like to imagine that if i could eat a star it would feel kind of like drinking a soda while eating pop rocks and taste sort of like the sour powder of a warhead but mixed with brownsugar
new ask game send me a 🌻 and ill just tell you whatever the fuck i want
Ocean Vuong, Night Sky With Exit Wounds.
but i don't LIKE being in a creative fallow period. i want to be an eternal harvest!!! i want to sow a little bit and then reap and reap and reap. waiting for the seeds to grow sucks.
wip wednesday—foot edition
@mmmytelephone brought to my attention that the people ( @coachspet ) are asking for it, so here’s an excerpt from my current wip, featuring cheesecake factory server trevor and foot fetish jamie. enjoy!
“Want me to wait?” Denver asks when they pull up in front of the red brick building. He doesn’t mean wait-wait while Trevor, like, hooks up—just until Trevor can confirm he’s getting what he’s expecting. It’s a sweet offer he makes every time he chauffeurs Trevor to a new Grindr meetup, and usually Trevor waves him off, but…
“Yeah, thanks, man,” Trevor says.
Denver tilts his head like a puppy, obviously confused about the change in script, but Trevor just bounds out the door and up the steps. Denver doesn’t need to know this particular meetup isn’t (necessarily??) a sex thing, and came from a website much seedier than tame old Grindr.
Trevor inhales a deep lungful of air, all sweet and floral from the lilac bushes lining the front of the building. He’s looking at the four doorbells, about to pull up his phone to check whether he has an apartment number, when the door opens.
There’s a guy around Trevor’s age on the other side—a shade shorter than Trevor, but built, t-shirt pulled tight over big pecs and strong shoulders, athletic shorts reaching to the middle of thick hairy thighs.
Trevor spends half a second thinking of everything he’d like to do to this guy, none of which involve feet, until his brain catches up and he realizes—duh. This isn’t the guy. He’s probably just on his way out. Trevor’s mystery foot perv isn’t going to look like a Sean Cody top out of Trevor’s wildest dreams.
“Hi,” the guy breathes. His voice is soft, skitters sparks down Trevor’s spine.
“Hey,” Trevor says, trying to look around him, but the guy is wide. His eyes are very blue beneath dark eyebrows, and there are freckles dusted across his nose and cheeks. “I’m looking for—”
Then Trevor watches blue blue eyes flick down to the ground and linger on his feet, watches a flush rise high on the guy’s sculpted cheekbones.
“You, I think.”
They both jump as a horn cuts the quiet evening.
“You good, Z?” Denver calls, leaning across the passenger seat so Trevor can just see his little face through the open window.
“Great!” Trevor calls back, not taking his eyes off the guy in front of him. He flashes the smile that always gets him at least 25%. “I’m great.”
summer goals: Get the Jamie Drysdale/Trevor Zegras tag on ao3 to over 1000 uses