Pretty In Pink

25 / LGBTQA+ friendly, No Terfs, Swerfs, or Rad Fems at all please and fucking thank you

[bovineblogger]

What if there was a cow that could fly?

um. uhh um. fat bumbalbee

[bovineblogger]

fat little bumbalabee

[i-havenothingelsetopost]

bumbalamoo

[bovineblogger]

HOLY SHIT???!!!!!!!

[these-are-not-my-titties]

our own patron saint of one way trips

[vampirecatprince]

Something something the oxygen meter going up and Simon somehow having enough air for days longer then he should and how the sub essentially becomes a part of Simon and how blood carries oxygen and what is the purpose of a real Iron lung anyways and iron is what carries oxygen in human blood after all and the blood trying to make him one with the ship because it was already breathing for him and the eldritch forces genuinely can't understand why he's still fighting to maintain his autonomy and sense of self in the face of something so much bigger than him, when it would just be so much easier and less painful to allow himself to be subsumed

Something about the indomitable human spirit in the face of something that's so incomprehensible that it can make metal breathe for you

[dogpuppy]

[your-fave-hates-ai]

YOU

YOU HATE AI !!

[very-gay-alkyrion]

[smashcut]

On the day of Dick Cheney’s death, I’m thinking about a lot of horrible consequences of his actions, but I’m also thinking about Lauren Hough telling Dick Cheney to waterboard her “if it makes him feel better” when she repaired his cable.

[oobbbear]

I drew this stupid burger I saw that brings me comfort and joy

[littleguysdaily]

[thealogie]

I feel like the posting levels are not where they should be for a Dick Cheney death. Never felt more like a millennial. There was a time people would be dancing in the streets at this news

[royal-misfit]

My favorite kind of horror is the kind where everything has already happened, and all you can do is watch it unfold. You are as powerless as the characters with the curse of knowing how it ends. These characters are doomed and you must witness that doom.

[squeakitties]

[felikatze]

[flareonfloof]

[slimepuparibaba]

BEACH BEACH BEACH BEACH BEACH

[crazysodomite]

The Sun

it loves us

it hates us

it is unfeeling

Voting ended onJun 28, 2024

[crazysodomite]

The Moon

it loves us

it hates us

it is unfeeling

Voting ended onJun 28, 2024

[thebraveliltoastie]

stop this is the funniest fucking tag

[frederick-the-great]

funniest bit in Conclave by far is Cardinal Vincent Benítez, the only normal person in a 5 mile radius, getting up in a room full of Cardinals and going, "you are all petty, mean and a bit weird, and inshallah I shall not return here ever again" and 118 cardinals were like damn, he's right, we can't let him escape

[cherriielle]

grant us a Pope who doubts 🕊

[tuherrus]

i liked this movie a lot

[crimsonservbot]

You ever hear that old chestnut about how most people neglect the part of the story of Icarus where he also had to avoid flying too low, lest the spray of the sea soak his feathers and cause him to fall and drown? You ever think about how different the world would be if Icarus died that way instead? If the idiom was to Fly To Close To The Sea? A warning against playing it far too safe, about not stretching your wings and soaring properly? You ever think about how Icarus died because he was happy?

[crimsonservbot]

If I told you I wrote this while thinking about the dangers of being visibly trans vs never trying to transition at all, happiness followed by a bright, burning end, smacking hard against a concrete ocean vs playing it too safe and never flying high, dooming you to a cold, crushing end from drowning, You'd believe me, right?

[apoemaday]

Immigrant Blues

by Li-Young Lee

People have been trying to kill me since I was born, a man tells his son, trying to explain the wisdom of learning a second tongue.

It’s the same old story from the previous century about my father and me.

The same old story from yesterday morning about me and my son.

It’s called “Survival Strategies and the Melancholy of Racial Assimilation.”

It’s called “Psychological Paradigms of Displaced Persons,“

called “The Child Who’d Rather Play than Study.”

Practice until you feel the language inside you, says the man.

But what does he know about inside and outside, my father who was spared nothing in spite of the languages he used?

And me, confused about the flesh and soul, who asked once into a telephone, Am I inside you?

You’re always inside me, a woman answered, at peace with the body’s finitude, at peace with the soul’s disregard of space and time.

Am I inside you? I asked once lying between her legs, confused about the body and the heart.

If you don’t believe you’re inside me, you’re not, she answered, at peace with the body’s greed, at peace with the heart’s bewilderment.

It’s an ancient story from yesterday evening

called “Patterns of Love in Peoples of Diaspora,”

called “Loss of the Homeplace and the Defilement of the Beloved,“

called “I Want to Sing but I Don’t Know Any Songs.”