#bathroom wall

[juh-wasnt-deactivated19691231]

tumblr note: this is a living document. Tap the original post header to see the most updated version.

a weary traveler’s guide to the poison bogs of tumblr

welcome to the land that cannot be killed in a way that matters. we have plenty of in-jokes, but this post isn’t about sightseeing: it’s about survival. there are many things to be wary of.

bots, nefarious

most of our evildoers appear to be automated. they spread lies and hate, but mostly they spread inflammatory language, with the goal of wasting your time and making you mad. often you’ll see that these blogs have no pfp, or they are Single Issue Bloggers, or they leave an inflammatory comment on everything they share. block and move on.

bots, annoying

i would classify the gazabots, pornbots, and thirst traps here. gaza is a real tragedy, but the bots sending spam aren’t helping. porn is wonderful, but the bots are scams. the thirst traps have little substance to them, but they must exist for some greater purpose—i think they metamorphose into full-fledged scams or maybe evildoers later in their lifecycle? block and move on.

terfs and other fascists, human

similar to the nefarious bots, but seemingly more human. this does not change their goals or my recommendations, though. they are not here with an open mind, and you cannot reason with fascism, because it has no root in reason. block and move on. do not engage.

morality

mos eisley cantina is our spiritual ancestor. this is the “lying, cheating, and stealing for fun are good and morally correct and you should do them always” website, at its extreme. there are folks who think you shouldn’t hold a food sharing program unless all of the food is stolen. BUT there are also folks who just think sharing is good. we really run the gamut here. trust your gut, you can ask questions once in a while, but don’t be surprised if a stranger bites your head off. understand that if something seems fishy, there’s a good chance it is, and you need to factor that into how much thought you give their statements and how much you care about the discussion.

on that note

yeah so tumblr is a very queer place (in spite of its management, as with everything else we do). there’s a lot of pro-queer stuff, there’s occasionally someone who thinks they’re pro-queer but would get mad at me for using the term “queer” for some reason (? block and move on, or point and laugh, dealer’s choice). if you are not some form of Not The Default, or if you just feel Too Normal, it’s okay. i am personally granting you permission to be here and to have fun. if someone has a problem with that, block and move on, or even just ignore it. a lot of people here are not good at conveying their points, a lot of people are angry, and we are famous for our piss-poor reading comprehension. don’t take it personally. they’re just Like That.

seriousness

most of tumblr ranges from neutral to deeply unserious. if someone’s discussing a heavy topic or making sense, they might be serious, we do have some of that, and sometimes there’s really good things to see here. but don’t expect a whole lot of Genuine Discourse and Thoughtful Discussion on average, unless you find your way into those circles. i tagged a post #christianity once and my notes were clogged with people having philosophical discussion about forgiving satan and it was weird.

argument

I once saw advice here that said, some people like arguing, and others don’t. If you like arguing, it’s super important to find other people who enjoy arguing, so that you can have your stimulating discussions with them, without totally burning out your friends who just want to get along. this really cleared up a lot of things for me, and i saw the light. (it turns out i don’t like arguing)

the bottom line

you’re here to have fun! so do that. our motto is “do whatever you want forever.” if you’re not having fun, take a step back to wonder why. you don’t have to post, or comment, or add tags, or even like the posts. you can just scroll if you want. if you like interaction, you can curate a blog (original posts and reblogs) that you like or that you think other people will like. my blog is mostly shitposting, cats, and advice, and sometimes computer things, but i moved most of that to my datacenter blog. you can send asks, you can receive asks (but don’t be disappointed if you never get any—most of us don’t. be the change you wish to see in the world!). understand that there is no Algorithm, and the only way to find something is to tag it and remember that tag later. godspeed mooncat.

further reading

[butterflyangel2002]

[tilbageidanmark]

"When the people shall have nothing more to eat, they will eat the rich".

A call for action

[fieriframes]

[I read in the paper today. It's been a record year for rainfall. And you were leaning against. The bathroom wall. In your lonely dress. It was your only dress.]

[opendirectories]

[shutinlear53]

Trans ally bathroom wall

Trans ally bathroom wall

[paranatellonta]

Flamboyance Redeemed

My dear sister, I am writing to you to apologise profusely. When I went to the bathroom in that pasta restaurant where we’d met up, it was with the intention of returning to our table within minutes—after all, I’d been looking forward to spending a cosy day together. I couldn’t possibly have foreseen that when I opened the door, a veritable legion of flamingos would be waiting for me on the other side.

“We need your help, Alice,” they told me, and they explained that the madness of the Queen of Hearts had broken its own boundaries. She had recently decreed that every single flamingo, the entire flamboyance of them, had to be red instead of pink—as red as all her other possessions—and while the flamingos had remained placid when the Queen was using them as croquet mallets, they couldn’t possibly accept wearing a colour so badly suited to their style.

As I understood that their revolution against the Queen had put these flamingos in grave danger of decapitation, I didn’t return to warn you before I travelled deep into Wonderland once more, but it didn’t matter how fast I ran, for the landscape around me didn’t change for weeks and weeks. Finally I did reach the Queen, and all I could think about was getting back to you—and so I described to her what a lovely plate of spaghetti we’d had, with the tastiest, most satisfyingly red sauce. I told the Queen that surely the flamingos would be very good cooks, as they can use their long necks to mix ingredients together, and upon that revelation she pardoned them immediately and employed them in her kitchens to make a variety of red-sauced dishes.

I stayed only to make sure the flamingos settled in well and were treated kindly, and now, to my relief, I have at last found an opportunity to explain to you what really happened, dearest Lorina. Now you see that the circumstances were quite different from what you’ll have been imagining, though it must have been obvious that even I wouldn’t zone out in the bathroom for literal weeks…would I?

—

[Image description: Photo of a wall with a door which is slightly open, leading to a brightly lit room where part of a poster is visible with a photo of a person who’s smiling with their mouth open. On the viewer’s side of the door, both the wall and the door are covered with a wallpaper that has a deep blue background, green plants, and lots of pink flamingos.]

[skilltissue]

my friend saw this in his bathroom today and sent a picture and i cant breathe

[sleepingwithinkink2-0]

I thought this was interesting.

(I love how they let people write on the walls in the bathroom.)

-Danny Sheehan

01.08.25

[juh-wasnt-deactivated19691231]

hey so i don't have much to do today, should i come out at work

[alyssacarry]

sadly i do.

[tilbageidanmark]

Restaurant framed a hole someone punched in the bathroom’s wall.

[fuckingilliterate]

[juh-wasnt-deactivated19691231]

ok just to play devil’s advocate for a minute. these people with the sad lives who can’t function without a machine pulling words out of a hat. would they be living happier lives without the machine? are they living happier lives with the machine? environmental and copyright concerns aside for the moment: is there a reason that this kind of life is worth less than someone who can Just Do The Thing? because what i’m seeing here is a lot of executive dysfunction and anxiety that’s being dealt with, maybe not in the best way, but it’s being dealt with. that’s better than i can say for my disorders. especially the I Can’t Start Doing Things Disorder. and i’m seeing someone live their life in a way that makes you (collectively) uncomfortable, and i’m seeing you lash out at these people who are probably living with more hope than they ever did before. where is the compassion?

i’m not here to say that GenAI is good. there are some pretty big issues with the tools themselves fundamentally, the infrastructure backing the tools, and the policies developing the tools, and i’m not likely to ever use these tools myself. but i have heard some pretty batshit things from the anti crowd. i don’t think the public was ready for this discussion but it’s here anyways and we’re gonna butcher it same as always

seeing how many people are talking about how they can't do their work right now because chatgpt is currently down...y'all...

[vintagehomecollection]

The Naturally Elegant Home, 1992

[peachsukii]

It’s a blessing, and a curse, to let someone else besides Bakugo drive the van on the annual bakusqaud road trip. Kirishima and Kaminari were too engrossed in their own conversation, never looking back at you two for long periods of time.

It was early afternoon, but car rides always make you sleepy. You thought curling up in your boyfriend’s lap in the back seat would be cute, peaceful, but no - this fucker couldn’t keep his hands off of you. For a grueling two hours, he was nothing but a tease, grinning like the devil over your squirming whenever he’d touch you. Bakugo played it off at first, gently running his fingers through your hair or rubbing his thumb over your cheekbone lovingly at your drowsy stupor. It escalated when your crop top rode up, exposing your bralette and tempting him. Thank god you were facing the back of the seat and not the boys up front.

It was subtle squeezes at first, “brushing” over your chest when he’d lay his hand on your ribs or move to rub your back. Bakugo would inch his fingers to your stomach, quietly shifting to cop a feel and act like nothing happened. When he saw your brows scrunch, he decided to push further, splaying his hand across your chest and teasingly slipping two fingers under the bralette to pinch your nipple, flicking and twisting it between his finger pads. His ego inflated when your legs twitched at his touch, a soft groan falling from your lips. It didn’t take long until he was practically using your tits as stress balls, his insatiable hunger for you taking over.

Bakugo didn’t even realize that Kirishima turned into a gas station to refuel and grab some snacks until the van was parked, too caught up in his game to notice.

“Need anything, bro?” He asks over his shoulder. “Kami and I are grabbing snacks, too.”

“Nah, we’re good. Gonna get out and stretch.”

Kirishima and Kaminari head into the store while the two of you exit the van and take a lap around the parking lot. That’s when you notice the bathroom on the side of the building, door propped open and no key needed.

Before he can stop you, you’ve got Bakugo by the collar and bolt for it, practically dragging him behind you. He’s yelling something along the lines of “what the fuck, woman?!” until you’re both inside the grimy one person bathroom, slamming the door behind you. You let go of his shirt and shove him into the rusty sink, pouncing on him like an animal.

“You think you can get away with all that, Katsuki?” You growl, emphasizing his name as a warning. “This is a fight you always lose.”

“Someone’s suddenly—” he tries to argue but the words die in his throat when your hand ferociously grips at his cock through his shorts. His face loses composure at the contact, flushing scarlet instantly.

“That’s what I thought.” You pause to bite his neck, pink teeth marks left in your wake. “You started this, babe. You’ve got two minutes, make it count.”