No title available
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
KIROKAZE
Keni
Today's Document
❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
noise dept.
No title available
Noah Kahan
Origami Around
untitled
tumblr dot com
Xuebing Du
Love Begins
izzy's playlists!
sheepfilms
taylor price
EXPECTATIONS
occasionally subtle
art blog(derogatory)
seen from United States
seen from Brazil
seen from Netherlands
seen from United States
seen from Russia
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seen from United States
seen from Germany
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@youcanholdmyhand
hi!! Just wanted to say I’m alive, I’ve been off tumblr for a while for my mental health + I graduated college last year, and I probably won’t be coming back in any significant capacity anytime soon. I’m gonna keep my blogs up but I’ll be adding “inactive” to their titles. To my lovely moots, I hope you’re doing well, and thank you :)
-Sara (maybe) (still working on gender stuff)
you bottle Miette??
You crush Miette like the grape?
brick up mother in basement for ONE THOUSAND YEARS
The Cask of Miettellado
Alright, to ao3's soon to be arriving Wattpad Refugees, a basic guide to general user culture:
1.) Unlike Wattpads vote system that let's you like each chapter, the ao3 equivalent kudos only allows one per work. Everyone is generally quietly annoyed about this. To engage with each chapter, you're heavily encouraged to comment. Trust me, it makes people's day.
2.) Ao3 has no algorithm. By default it's latest updated work first. You can find things to your taste through searches, filters and tags.
3.) 'No archive warnings apply' and 'user has chosen not to use archive warnings' mean two very different things. No archives warnings means the work is free from any content that could require a warning tag (character death, graphic depictions of violence, non-con, etc). User has chosen not to use archive warnings means it could contain any of the warning content, be it hasn't been explicitly tagged. Treat it like an allergen. No archive warnings apply is allergen free. User has chosen not to use archive warnings, may contain traces or whole chunks of the allergen. If you're likely to have a bad reaction, maybe don't take the risk.
4.) Speaking of warnings, ao3 has very few restrictions on the type of work that's allowed. Whatever your personal thoughts or feelings on that are, thats how the site is. You're likely to run across some dark subject matters and a lot of people are uncomfortable with reading that. You're well within your rights not like these works and have your opinion on whether they should be allowed, but harassing the authors of such works (or any works) is more likely to come back on you than them. Ao3 operates on a strong policy of 'don't like, don't read'. Use the tagging system to your full advantage to only engage with the kind of works you want to see.
We look forward to welcoming you all and seeing the fantastic works you create. Happy writing!
Immersive gaming
Knowledge is empowering
you can literally get gender changers for like $3
And yes, that's literally what they're called.
Reblog if you got a gender changer for like $3
some of my favourite sign fails <3
read animal farm last night
it seemed like communism was exceedingly good in all regards until one dickhead raised a litter of dogs to kill everyone who disagreed with him and became a dictator. in fact, the book goes to great lengths to luxuriate in how much more efficient and bountiful work under the collective was in comparison to the farmer.
i find it interesting that this book has long been held as the thing weiners tell you to read when you say anything about socialism or communism. like it's supposed to change your mind. there wasn't a subtle or gradual shift into the failure of the system caused by its own faulty construction. everything was just ruined by one cunt who had the power to instantly kill anyone, which seems like something that would cause any system to fail.
if i was on animal farm i would have killed that dickhead Napoleon in front of everyone with my teeth and it wouldnt even be hard.
its 4/20 please take some time to remember everyone that has died / been incarcerated / lost any chance at a normal life for your right to smoke ur fuckin mids.
also remember the people who are currently incarcerated for cannabis possession/use! you can visit the site below if you're interested in helping inmates incarcerated for cannabis, they even have a letter writing program if you can't donate/fundraise
Through advocacy, policy change, education, release, commutation, expungement and reentry, Last Prisoner Project nonprofit is committed to s
I will never get over how weird it feels to have tragic and emotional chapters of your life where you just also still go to work, and the grocery store, and see funny videos online all while feeling such paralyzing fear and heartache
life just goes on no matter what
just put laundry in the washer. there better not be any wet laundry after this
bad news
just put laundry in the dryer. there better not be unfolded laundry after this
what the hell..
putting some clothes on. there better not be any dirty laundry after this
you guys are not gonna believe this
unbelievable that its 4/20 and absolutely nobody has put the objectively best rage comic on my dash yet. i have to do everything around here
runner up
not a rage comic but this is a personal favorite
My three girlfriends. And yes, they smoke weed.
do they smoke weed?
Yes, actually.
you mean she isnt just smoking a cigarette? but a weed cigarette?
It’s called a bunt…. Not weed cigarette… And yes, it is a weed bunt. They all smoke weed bunts before we kiss. (They are my girlfriends,)
They don’t look like they smoke weed.
Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. I’m so angry you are so lucky my three weed smorking girlfriends are rubbing my shoulders to calm me down I’m so mad.
Your “weed smoking girlfriend” has a Hello Kitty tattoo on her belly. The one in the middle.
I printed out a photo of your avatar and taped it to my punching bag that I punch and I mutter your URL with every strong punch I punch you twerp…. Don’t ever Talk about Blaiz or the wicked Tat(tattoo) I drew on her ever again I Don’t wanna see you standing outside my home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again ok leave us alone this is the FINAL FUCKING WARNING
Well that escalated quickly……
What, was that? Hmm? Come again. *Blaiz grabs my shoulder* Come on Jory, they aren’t worth it, please. * I jerk my shoulder shaking her hand off* NO! NOOOOO!!! *starts to just pummel you with my big fucking fists. With each blow I let out a furious yell. The blows come quicker and harder and the yells get louder. I’m yelling so loud and now I’m crying. BREAKING POINT. The week was hard and I can’t take anymore. I’m opening sobbing at this point while you blood gurgle. All three of my girlfriends struggle to pull me off and they finally succeed and lead me away from the goo pile that is now your body*
haha oh my god
who even is this dude? someone needs some anger management classes.
love how he keeps reminding us that “I HAVE THREE GIRLFRIENDS”, “THEY ALL KISS ME”, and “THEY SMOKE WEED HURRP DURR”.
and let’s not forget the “Blaiz” and her “wicked tat”, or that he doesn’t “wanna see you standing outside [his] home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again”, and that this is “the FINAL FUCKING WARNING”.
“the goo pile that is now your body”
i’m dying over here, jesus
please, Jory, come challenge me to a bout of internet witticsisms; i promise, it’ll be fun.
*shoots you dead* Heh, idiot… *leaves with my three weed smorking girlfriends to go hold hands and kiss.*
this dude playin omg
Come again? *The bar falls silent. No one dares to make a sound, as you have just said a very poor choice of words at a very dangerous time. I remain slumped over the bar, not looking back to you. One hand limply holding an almost empty bottle, the other hand cradling my head. I repeat the question, this time louder.* Come again?! *You can hear me slur the words, the sentence sounds like a real struggle for me to get out. I’m clearly intoxicated. A bead of sweat rolls down your face as you realize you might have just fucked up in a very major way. Everyone else in the bar is pretending to not notice what is going on. The bartender idly washes a mug with a cloth. His eyes are closed and he’s muttering something to himself. A handful of people hurriedly leave. One person looks back at you, a look of sorrow on their face. They almost say something, but shake their head and cast their eyes down to the floor, and leave. But not you. You stand, petrified. A quick look at me reveals I’m still at the bar. You look to the exit, there’s still time. But there’s not, there’s not, there’s not. Your fate was sealed the moment you opened your mouth.* Mother fuck.. what did you say?! *I slowly rise from my stool and being to lumber over to you. I look a mess. My hair is unkempt, I haven’t shaved in what looks like months, there are dark heavy bags under my eyes, my shirt is stained and has holes in it, and I’m missing a shoe. But the main thing you notice is the gun tucked into my jeans, and my massive muscle arms that look like they were made for punching. You know that song about the boots that were made for walking? Yeah, it’s like that only instead of boots it’s my muscles and instead of walking it’s punching. As I drunkenly sway over to you, you think of your family… Will they mourn you, or will they try and forget this blotch of stupidity, that their child insulted the Jory publicly, ever happened to their family? Your thoughts are cut short as I now stand face to face with you. I grab your face and pull you even closer.* Playin?! There was nothing playing… no playing you fuck. No playing… it was real.. the realest thing I’ve ever know.. felt… Love. I loved them… Blaiz…. Chas-Chas… Funk… I loved all three of em… but they…*My face is wet with tears and I’m blinking constantly in vain to hold them back.* They left me… left… *Almost instantly the sadness leaves my face and is replaced with pure anger.* Playin? Playin?! *My hand leaves your face and starts to head to what you think is the gun. You close your eyes and see God looking at you, shrugging. ‘Pft, you brought this upon yourself dude.’ He says as he waves his hands at you dismissively. But instead of the gun, my hands grab yours. Your eyes jolt open and the anger is gone from my face. There is only sadness.* Left me… * I fall to the floor and sob.* Wow, grow up. *You say before you leave the bar but are hit almost immediately from a car and are killed upon impact.*
Happy 420
oh my god. minecraft painting had a bnnuy this entire time. this is beautiful
AAAHHHHHHHH AAHHHH AAHHHH <— sounds of happiness
Back when I used to walk around my college in a corduroy blazer and slacks I didn't call it "dark academia" I called it "professor drag" and the purpose was to smoothly walk into parts of campus I wasn't supposed to access
yayyyy mutuals hiiiiiiiii reblog if you love your mutualssssssss hiii mutuals
