#IM ON IT BABES

[bosspigeon]

so bc i am a Gross Dude my friends i and sometimes rate our burps and my coworker (who is a teen girl) burped in front of me once and i instinctively rated it

so now every time she burps she looks to me hopefully for a rating and bc she has delicate little baby burps i now have to create an entirely new Burp Rating System unique to her bc i rate anything below a 5 and she looks at me like this

[mercystine]

you 🫵 can kiss 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨💋 a hundred 💯 boys 👨⛹️♂️ in bars 🍸🍹✨ shoot 🔫🌠 another shot 💥🎉 try to stop 🚫✋the feeling 🤭 you 🫵 can say it's just ✨the way you are✨🤥 make a new excuse 🗣️🤕 another stupid 🤡 reason 🙄 good luck babe 😘👄 WELL GOOD LUCK BABE 💥✨🌠🏳️‍🌈

[wolfienation]

absolutely hilarious to me that agatha calls rio a bad boy when in reality rio is actually the rule following jock with infinite patience and care who brings you flowers on a first date.

agatha on the other hand is the snarky girl who gets into arguements with her teacher about the smallest details in the lecture and is constantly getting detention for cursing someone out. she's top of all her classes tho.

[inkskinned]

she had taken all of the pronouns in my poems and turned them masculine. every she was he. every her was him. i wrote about women dipping their hands into the honey of my chest and she had changed it in this stark, violent way. men now, in my work. in my ribs, i guess. how odd, to stare at it.

i write a lot about worshipping at the knees of my girl. what sapphic can resist the allure of chapel-talk, the divine nature of what is ours and ours alone. her hair in your shower. her chapstick melting in your car. when we say holy here, it is a different meaning. it is the smithing of our own haloes from mix-tape cds. no hammer to the anvil - only our own palms, skin scorching. forging every astral ray with the prayer please don't leave. our bible a history that is never taught in high school. we shape a church from the tent of her arched back. what other word for hymn but her voice. her moaning.

a poem can be stripped of its component parts, maybe, but can it still breathe? is it still the same ship? the words this woman changed, biting and spiraling up at me: my man is holy. i worship at his feet. he is the divinity of saturdays and the wheat of my communion and he is the hushed summer's glorious release.

it's common knowledge that you can say a word too-many times, and then it loses meaning. but here was something new: it wasn't that the words had lost meaning, but rather that they had shifted in the air somehow and turned radioactive to me. all of my words were otherwise unchanged, except for the unkind and glowing eye of him.

ivory-tower glowing in my aorta, i thought about talking to her on the sanctimonious and erudite level. telling her: a poem can be changed, can be erased or added to or demolished or reconfigured; but we do try to respect the original author. i would tell her i would have preferred her not change only the pronouns; that her actions felt like censorship rather than collaboration.

in front of me: you cannot cut him out of me, i was made to love him. no scrubbing, no penance. i will always come back to this house, come back to loving men.

i thought about telling her why her actions were cannibalism, not care. i would tell her about being 18 and pressured by my catholic family to accept a man as a partner; how i'd dated him for 5 years before being able to escape. how abusive he had been. how he had made me kneel in front of him - that i wasn't using the word worship idly, but rather as a reclamation. how i had to be re-taught even the concept of faith. how when i learned peace again, it was by the hand of a woman.

i thought about telling her about the wound behind it, the unceasing loneliness. i thought about telling her shape of the small and quiet hours; the fear; the endless and unpretty nature of just being queer. i thought about saying: all of my work comes from a place of pain.

i thought about telling her everything. when i finally found the words, it was only one: why? in that was the summary of all i felt: why not write her own poem? why change it so violently? and why choose my work, if she disliked it so much? why me?

i imagine she shrugged when she responded. all i got was a single sentence: "i really like your work but i want to be able to enjoy it without being made uncomfortable."

on her insta, her pinned post is of her boyfriend - now husband - proposing. they were married in 2023. congratulations. i really do hope she's happy.

i hope one day it stops hurting.

[phantominzie]

EVERYONE.

DONT FORGET TO LOOK UP #cutewinterboots ON TIKTOK! THERE'LL BE SOME BIG BITS OF ICE ON THE ROADS FOR QUITE SOME TIME, SO BE SURE TO INVEST IN SOME CUTE WINTER BOOTS.

That is all, y'all have a good one and stay safe during all this ICE!

edit: fascists, racists, nazi's, homophobe/transphobes, and trump dick riders can politely fuck off on this post. I'm tired of dealing with y'all, stop trying to be edgy in the comments of this post, I will just block you so piss off.

[faunandfloraas]

Seungmin for Eyesmag.

[anemonet]

Technoblade....

[vintage--lilacs]

Roan of Arc @chappellroan

[swanprincess5]

[eternalpariah]

biker sevika

[arcanegifs]

ARCANE LEAGUE OF LEGENDS: 2x06 - “The Message Hidden Within the Pattern” ↳ "Vi. You've been quite a curiosity. The one who captured Caitlyn's heart."

[faint-taste-of-almonds]

yes there's a lot of things to criticize about Star Wars but one thing i will always love it for is being so unabashedly tragic

i'm sure it's been said before, but one of the main things i think powers the SW fandom (fics in particular) is the (in)evitability of it all

time travel fix-its are one of the most popular sub-categories of fics that i've seen (for the prequels at least) but i see it much more rarely in other fandoms. i know each fandom has their own niches that they dig into but star wars fic writers took one look at this decades long story of people who were doomed from the start and said 'not in my house bitch'

and i'm never tired of it, because there's so many places where just one different action could have changed the story entirely, but didn't

was it over the moment Palpatine succeeded in feeding Anakin's fears and his distrust toward the Jedi? the moment the Sith gained control of the senate? what about when the war started, when the Jedi were made generals of men designed to be their executioners? what about when Dooku left the order? when Qui-Gon Jinn died, leaving barely-knighted Obi Wan Kenobi to raise a child he had no idea how to care for? when the Jedi massacred the Mandalorians at Galidraan, leaving Jango Fett primed (hah) for revenge? when Palpatine, and thus the Sith, first gained influence? when the Jedi were tied to the Republic, all the way back at the Ruusan Reformation?

there are so many little moments that turn into this huge web of cause and effect when you take a step back. and in canon, these characters are dooming themselves while we watch, but what reason do they have to do anything different? they don't know they're in a tragedy - its dramatic irony at its goddamn finest

but there's this thing about decisions: for it to be a choice, there has to be another option. and our heroes make their mistakes because that's what they do, while we aren't privy to that other option, leaving that little what-if. it's a favorite human pastime, to think about what might have been.

we start at episode 4, though, fourty or so years after what you could arguably call the start, and find ourselves watching the dominoes fall in place throughout 1, 2, and 3.

and we can hate the choices, hate the tragedy, hate what happened to our beloved characters, but we knew. we had the luxury of knowing.

it's a love story, it's political intrique, it's sci-fi at its finest, and they were dead from the start.

[gooselycharm]

good luck, babe!

(1 week late but here is my offering)

[jaylintm]

I dance when I’m bored 😑

[jaydarino]

Sometimes girlhood is matching hello kitty oodies with your mortal enemy

[divineandmajesticinone]

PIT BABE 2 (2025) I The couples