#nobody asked you

[lizandreil]

happy first andreil kiss day can’t believe these two emotionally stunned men invented love

[kabra-malvada]

Murder is ok when:

[oncamelliastreet]

“be so for real” how about you be so fucking quiet and shut the hell up

[can-we-die-now]

"shut up and calculate" ~copenhagen

[tunakitchen]

40K QBAGINA‼️‼️‼️🔥🔥💯💯💥 MINECRAFT YURI 🔛🔝

clip from @pixiecaps

[wardensantoineandevka]

is that piece of media actually bad, or is it just not following the blueprint you projected onto it? is that work actually not good, or are you just demanding something from it that is absolutely antithetical to its themes, genre, tone, and narrative goal? is that story actually poorly written, or do you just dislike that it is not the specific things you wanted from it that it never set out to be, never was, and never is going to become? is it actually bad, or is it actually well-executed and you just dislike the story it chose to be because it isn't catering to your specific desires and expectations?

[inkskinned]

this is just my opinion but i think any good media needs obsession behind it. it needs passion, the kind of passion that's no longer "gentle scented candle" and is now "oh shit the house caught on fire". it needs a creator that's biting the floorboards and gnawing the story off their skin. creators are supposed to be wild animals. they are supposed to want to tell a story with the ferocity of eating a good stone fruit while standing over the sink. the same protective, strange instinct as being 7 and making mud potions in pink teacups: you gotta get weird with it.

good media needs unhinged, googling-at-midnight kind of energy. it needs "what kind of seams are invented on this planet" energy and "im just gonna trust the audience to roll with me about this" energy. it needs one person (at least) screaming into the void with so much drive and energy that it forces the story to be real.

sometimes people are baffled when fanfic has some stunning jaw-dropping tattoo-it-on-you lines. and i'm like - well, i don't go here, but that makes sense to me. of fucking course people who have this amount of passion are going to create something good. they moved from a place of genuine love and enjoyment.

so yeah, duh! saturday cartoons have banger lines. random street art is sometimes the most precious heart-wrenching shit you've ever seen. someone singing on tiktok ends up creating your next favorite song. youtubers are giving us 5 hours of carefully researched content. all of this is the impossible equation to latestage capitalism. like, you can't force something to be good. AI cannot make it good. no amount of focus-group testing or market research. what makes a story worth listening to is that someone cares so much about telling it - through dance, art, music, whatever it takes - that they are just a little unhinged about it.

one time my friend told me he stayed up all night researching how many ways there are to peel an orange. he wrote me a poem that made me cry on public transportation. the love came through it like pith, you know? the words all came apart in my hands. it tasted like breakfast.

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Has anybody made *the* pants scene into a pattern wallpaper?

Javier Peña in every episode curated by @djo & @userparamore​  ↳ 1.02: The Sword of Simón Bolivar  

BONUS:

[peculiary]

A+X #6 March 27, 2013

[trennoandgreggo]

Why is he even talking about us

[bunnieswithknives]

As much as I love angst I think it would be funny if he just didnt give af

[catscraaatch]

thinking about geto with a mommy kink....

to set the record straight this man is NOT a sub...he'll whimper and whine and beg all he wants but at the end of the day you're the one all pathetic and needy for him, whining right back at him everytime he rocks his hips into yours, throwing in a little 'please' every now and then just to rile you up.

he'd be laying underneath you, his hands gently rubbing up and down your sides as you rock back and forth on his cock, getting off on the way your clit rubs against his hard abdomen. you can't help but close your eyes, not only lost in pleasure but god...suguru looks so beautiful underneath you.

his lips are parted and his cheeks are flushed, long black strands of hair cascading down his toned shoulders, the few shorter pieces in the front sticking to his head. the sight makes the coil in your stomach burn that much hotter, your hips grinding down onto his faster.

suguru smirks, noticing how close you are, how needy you are.

he has both hands gripping the flesh of your hips, controlling your movements. just even more proof that he's the one in control. he moves one hand down between the two of you, sliding through the mess you've made on the skin above his cock, finding your aching clit and rubbing slow, lewd circles on it. your legs nearly give out, shaking around him. he laughs at this, a deep rumble from his chest. "aw, you close already?" he coos.

he continues rubbing your clit, his other hand leaving your hip to grip the fat of your ass, slowing your movement to a nasty grind as he moves you back and forth on his cock.

"why don't you cum for me then, hm pretty girl? make a mess all over this cock? come on mommy. 's all yours." the name rolls off his tongue so pretty, it's almost blasphemous how close it gets you to really making a mess all over him.

and he knows what it does to you. his mouth pulling into a sick smirk the second you whimper in response to him, your hips picking up speed, tight wet walls squeezing him impossibly tighter. he gets a sick satisfaction from watching how much the simple name gets you riled up despite your lame attempts at trying to convince him you're not into it.

and when you do cum, a shaking babbling mess on top of him-- he'd shush your whimpers telling you how good you were for him, how well you take his cock, all while that stupid -ly hot name falls from his mouth. cooing it at you like the little freak he is.

[opikiquu]

iknow my comics are ugly please just hear me out

[the-raindeer-king]

Honestly, you should've known better. Soap was never one to take a joke and drop it, and joke like this? You should've know he'd take it and run with it. You just never thought it'd go this far.

Someone had brought cupcakes, the kind that come with those gaudy plastic rings meant for little kids. You and Soap had ended up with the same ring on top of your cupcakes.

"Oh, hey. They're the same. Guess we're married now."

It was a joke. Something you had laughed off, before ducking out of the break room, missing the way Soap's eyes followed you. Missing the way he stared at you, something dark and hungry in those baby blues.

The next morning, Soap's waiting at your desk with flowers and a coffee. He gives you a bright smile, watching you as you take the flowers with a smile.

"Oh, my favorite! How'd you know?"

"I know all yer favorites. Part of bein' a good husband, aye?"

That makes you pause, coffee halfway to your lips. Husband? It takes you a second to realize he's referring to the joke you made yesterday, and you give him a sheepish smile, shaking your head.

"Johnny, that was a joke. I wasn't -"

"I've got to go. But I'll get ye later. Make a proper wife of ye before the day's over," he promises, leaning down to kiss your cheek.

You don't even have a chance to argue. And when he shows up with Ghost at the end of the day, all you can think to ask is why Ghost is there.

"Johnny said you needed a witness," is Ghost's reply.

[karapaints]

My new response to any male-presenting person who feels the need to talk over me or “correct my premise” (GTFO, I have a literal masters degree in research) is to look them in the eye and say, “ok, dude.”

They hate it so much.

[themadbiologist]

“Pitcher Plant”

I dislike the term “pitcher plant”. It reeks of outdated ignorance and describes a vast number of species from around the world, many of which are not closely related to each other.

As a botanist, and an evil one at that, I prefer to be precise with my language. You too can become an educated scientist and terrific snob by using the correct terms for each variety of “pitcher plant”. If you require education on the matter, allow me to inform you.

There are three families of “pitcher plant”: Sarraceniaceae, Nepenthaceae, and Cephalotaceae. Sarraceniaceae has 3 genera — namely Sarracenia, Heliamphora, and Darlingtonia. Nepenthaceae has a single genus (Nepenthes), and Cephalotaceae has a single species. An entire family with only one species. Ugh.

Now, they look quite distinct from each other, so here are some photos and facts.

This species belongs to Sarracenia, the North American or trumpet pitcher plants. Note the height and slender shape.

This is also a Sarracenia. Note the lack of height and squat shape. Most Sarracenia species look like one of these two — they are quite easy to identify. They are found in boggy, temperate areas around North America and reach a height of up to 4 feet tall.

This is a stunning example of a Nepenthes (tropical pitcher plants) species. These are what you likely think of when someone mentions “pitcher plants”. Beautiful, found in warm, humid regions of the world. They are climbing vines and pitchers can reach over a foot tall (this is species-dependent).

This is an example of Heliamphora, the sun pitchers. They can be found in South America. While still belonging to the family Sarraceniaceae, they are not as tall as Sarracenia, but still quite graceful. If you have a mind for Greek, you may wonder if the “heli” in Heliamphora is for sun (from “helios”). It is not. The name Heliamphora instead comes from “helos”, meaning marsh. The name “sun pitcher” is misleading and comes from a misunderstanding — these plants would be more accurately called “marsh pitchers”.

I have a passionate love-hate relationship with Cephalotus follicularis. Cephalotus is a monotypic genus (a genus with only one species) and of course it is Australian. They look similar to Nepenthes but are unrelated and much smaller — the plants reach just shy of 8 inches tall.

There are also the cobra lilies, Darlingtonia, which belong to Sarraceniaceae. Those are arguably similar enough to Sarracenia that they do not need to be discussed here. Darlingtonia is another monotypic genus within Sarraceniaceae.

Now you have absolutely no excuse. You have been informed on the major genera of “pitcher plants” and should weaponize this knowledge as you see fit.

The brilliant and brave may also wish to weaponize the plants themselves. Kindly send me updates if you do. I am ever so curious…