Celebrating the new Ace flag designed by AceInGrace this year!
wallacepolsom
Not today Justin

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Cosimo Galluzzi
art blog(derogatory)
Cosmic Funnies

titsay
tumblr dot com

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hello vonnie
Sade Olutola
almost home

Love Begins

oozey mess

shark vs the universe
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Jules of Nature
will byers stan first human second

PR's Tumblrdome

seen from Japan
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@probablypurple
Celebrating the new Ace flag designed by AceInGrace this year!
"oh you're just being nice" JUST? do you have any idea how much work goes into this shit? JUST being nice? girl i am doing some supercomputer shit upstairs to construct this niceness. they installed laplace's demon in my brain to trace out the last hour of interaction and calculate the optimal thing to say to make you feel better. and i still somehow beefed it? JUST being nice? yeah and bach was "just writing songs" jesus fucking christ. people askin for cordiality like it's no big deal
Germans completely outdid the english language by calling tv a farseer. They got their orcish shamans to name that shit
you'll feel like a total dipshit train wreck and no matter what some girl is gonna see you and think "role model". you can't kill yourself you have to go be clocky in the gas station so a 14 year old can have the trajectory of her life altered forever
as annoying as it is to work fast food, at my previous job one time a kid recognized the theta delta pin on my hat and was so fucking excited because i was the first other therian they had ever encountered offline.
"hey....are you a therian?" "yeah!" "what kind of animal?" "eh, some kinda dog" "😲😀 im like a wolf coyote hybrid" "that's fuckin awesome"
to be weird is to cast lifelines all around you
tags from @k1ntsug1-r0b0t-g1rl
what really drives me nuts is that like. this happens an average of x times per year as a visibly weird person, but we only get made aware of it a small fraction of the time. you can't kill yourself you have to be clocky in the gas station.
Being clocky when i was working as a barista was one of my big joys. Being clocky when i was teaching high schoolers how to play the marimba was my reason for being for half a decade. It sucks how scared I am to leave the house I live in now. But I still need to try and be clocky at the grocery store. I wish i had a job to be clocky at. Being visibly me is one of the most radical acts I'm capable of, and I hope that one day we live in a world where it isn't radical at all.
that's exactly what I was feeling when I wrote this. we all find ways to defy our fear, love is an excellent motivator.
hey i know i have some followers who play warframe
if you watch the twitch stream today and you have a linked account you can get free dante
Happy Pride Month!! Ace Pride Miku says you are valid!!! 💜
I drew her in the ace inspired outfit I wore to my local pride last year :)
Happy Pride!
@softwaring's post (pride flags using my own photography) inspired me to make my own version:
Favorite trope from real life experiences
[ID: Two characters looking at each other, both thinking "I want to be closer to you but I'm afraid I'll fail and you'll find me annoying"]
Apparently my stepdad and I are fucking psychically linked because ?? every single time he makes chili for dinner I get a migraine. Without fail. And it became like a ha ha running joke because it happened so many times but now I’m living 3 hours away from my parents and I just texted my mom and
WHAT IS HAPPENING TO ME
Happy disability pride month
via @ninjahijabimuse
this is so much better i love it
made an ace/asexual, genderfluid and pansexual pride flags using my own photography <3
Hello?? Can anyone hear me???
@mageofeternity how does it feel being the funniest wizard on this website
Violence may not solve every problem but dang sometimes it's cathartic.
reading a “there was only one bed fic” and the characters have decided to share the bed as long as they stay on their sides. i’m really glad they figured that whole mess out and am excited to read about them staying on their sides of the bed until morning^-^
oh dear
i know we’re both just messing around pretending to be whole but look at me. if the train was coming would you move. if the ground was falling from under your feet would you even notice or would it just be another tuesday for you. if somebody stabbed you could it hurt worse than you already do. what i’m saying is that i love you but i think we both drive over the speed limit when it’s raining. what i’m saying is that i want to hold your hand and i understand about how you sometimes have to sit down in the shower. what i’m saying is that i’m here for you and if the train comes please move.
i wrote this 7 years ago, somehow. every day someone else finds it and whispers to me - oh, i understand this. something always turns in the wash of my stomach: i am so, so glad you feel seen. i wish you had no idea what this post was about.
i wrote this while working in a program for new writers. on wednesdays, two of the teachers would be contractually obligated to read our writing aloud to the group of 300+ teens. i had never read my work in public before. i had something like 6k poems and was panicking about it. none of them are good enough. sometimes the train is howling. it is hard, actually, sometimes, even as an adult.
and then i thought - what is one thing i wish i could tell all of them. each of these 300 kids. what did i need to hear, at 16?
i wanted to tell them about the day you wake up, and the sun feels warm finally. i wanted to tell them about carving a life out of soapstone, your hands turning bloody. i wanted to tell them that sometimes yes - it actually does feel easy. i wanted to tell them about weddings and cookie dough and long road trips. about albums of new music and old friends laughing and the sound of snow falling.
you will learn the pattern of the train. you will learn to close your eyes when you hear the engine rumbling. you will learn to let yourself have the grey days in their lily-soft numbness. sometimes it will feel like life is wet paint, and god has smeared your canvas across a sewer grate. sometimes it will be so boring it isn’t even pronounceable - the tenacious, soundless blankness. survival isn’t just ugly nights and wild mornings. it is also the steady, unimportant moments. it is just driving with your seatbelt on. it is calling a friend on the way home. it is burying your face into the fur of your dog.
when i had finished reading this poem aloud, the auditorium was silent for a solid minute. someone stood up to take a picture of where it had been projected onto a screen, and then three more people followed the action, and then - like a bad internet story, people remembered they were supposed to be clapping. kids came up to me after it - thank you for writing that. i think i hear a train coming.
i would write this differently now, i think, but it has been 7 years. i still live by the tracks. i also haven’t picked up a blade in over 10 years. the scars are still there, but these days i only pick up scissors to cut my hair. i know why you can’t tell your mom about it. i know how the numbness slips over everything, a restless horrible cotton. i know how when you dropped the dish, you weren’t crying about the broken glass. i know about feeling like all the roads have closed their exits, that you aren’t supposed to still-be-here - and yet.
i am still here, and still yours, and i haven’t forgotten. what i’m saying is if any hope is calling to you - i know it’s hard, but you have to listen. i’m saying keep driving, but slow down the car. sit down in the shower, i’m not judging you. we can stay in the dark with the good hot water and do nothing but stare. notice the stab wound. make it through another tuesday.
i know what it is like to miss yourself. do what you need to. come home to me. i am writing to you, my past self, from the future. i’ll be waiting for you.
and when the train is coming - please move.
im gonna fucking cry
Happy Pride Month to all of my fellow aces!! 🖤🩶🤍💜