#who lied

[loversdelusions]

Who said "it gets better". I want a word with you, you sadistic Fuck

[whatwenthereagain]

cats are mean my ass

who lied and tried to say that this sweet old man was mean

[eag1969tumbler-blog]

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Nicole Rennie Tietie (@nicoletietie_)

[nicollekidman]

weren’t we told stewy would have more to do this season….

[arsenicpanda]

FIVE NIGHTS AT FREDDY'S (2023)

[isawthismeme]

She’s brown and a democrat, gotta get that birth certificate, that we’ll call fake news anyway. Apparently, if you can’t win in a fight, you gotta at least try to get your opponent disqualified.

Sad and weird.

[samble-moved]

post itself

false flags

trans/adjacent tags

accessibility features

tumblr live post (thanks for the link, @problemnyatic)

flashing / strobing / lights

unblockable flashing ad

buying ad free

staff @/macmanx guilt trip

list of staff + more issues

[mikeluciraphgabe]

Bruce, calmly: WHO PUT SLIME IN THE BATMOBLIE

Duke, immediately: it was Dick

Bruce: *staring at Dick with That Face*

Dick: NO IT WASN’T- BRUCE WAIT- I CAN EXPLAIN

Duke: *slips out of room unnoticed*

-

Duke, in front of a camera: it was me. i put the slime in the batmobile.

[karagna]

An elf girl with a gun could save me

[lectorel]

Pet peeve of the moment: brands which treat 'Linen' like it's a style description instead of a fiber

No, your 65% cotton 35% spandex shirt is not linen, it will never be linen, and if fact the closest it will ever come to linen is hanging next to it in a closet. If it's not made from flax fiber, it's not linen.

[lc710v]

the visitor

[odinsblog]

Trump lies about the size of rallies and the size of his everything.

Here’s to whoever was working the camera 🫡

[sapphiclesbli]

when is it my turn to sit on a hot lesbian lap to tell them about my day while they grope me shamelessly?!

[erwinsvow]

it’s like you were put on this earth to bother rafe.

everyday, without fail, come some sort of request—rafe, let’s go get coffee. rafe, i want ice cream. rafe, i wanna go to bed. he tells you to go to bed and you whine immediately after, letting out a faint “not alone! not what i meant!” before he rolls his eyes, one huge hand settling on your hip and the other one on your back, throwing you over his shoulder and taking you to bed. 

once you finally get him there it’s all laughs and giggles and avoiding his gaze, getting shy again, refusing to tell him what you really want. he rolls his eyes and gives it to you hard, like he knows you need it, so you’ll fall asleep and let him finish his work in silence. and it works—for a few hours, that is. then you're up again, usually with more requests.

“rafe, they’re having a sale.” you fiddle with your R pendant, the way you always do when you want something and can’t find the words to just ask for it. for a girl pawing at his dick and begging for it raw half the time, you get awfully shy. 

“so? how many fuckin’ clothes do y’need?” 

“you’re the one who keeps ripping ‘em up! not my fault-”

he rolls his eyes, running a hand through his hair.

"knock it off," he says, coming out louder and more frustrated than he meant.

then he watches you quiet down and scroll on your phone, biting your cheek. he thinks he messed up and made you cry. he feels bad the second it's done, because there’s definitely some pretty, tiny dress pulled up on the screen that you want to show him. 

he knows how your brain works at this point—you want him to get it for you, take you out to a cute dinner so you can wear it and then have him yank it off of you later that night. you won’t ask for it though, there’s your shyness again. 

you feel bad when he actually does buy you anything more than a six-dollar latte or a big ice cream that you can’t finish.

"what're you looking at?" he finally asks, not even a minute later, looking at your body resting on the complete other side of the bed now.

"nothing."

"you gonna do this right now?"

"do what?"

"just show me what you want."

"no, it's nothing. i'll just ask my other boyfriend for it, it's fine-"

before your sentence is finished, he's already on top of you, squishing your cheeks together, pinning you down. he stares into your eyes, maybe expecting tears, but they don't come. instead you look... satisfied. satisfied with yourself for riling him up like you wanted.

"yeah? other boyfriend?"

"jus' a joke, rafey." your voice comes out all quiet and squeaky since he's holding your face tight. your eyes are big and wide staring up at him. he hates that he's getting hard right now. he lets you go, rolling off and feeling your body sink into his bed.

“get your ass in the car.” it comes out as a statement, not a request. you comply immediately, leaning over to give him a wet, sloppy kiss before stumbling out of bed to grab your shoes. he gets up too, looking for his keys, when you come right back to give him a hug. you press your head against his chest, arms wrapped tight around his neck, eyes fluttering shut, breathing in his scent.

“thank you, rafe,” you murmur against his shirt.

“yeah, yeah, whatever,” he starts, but you don’t miss the way the tops of his ears are flushed with pink. “get the fuckin’ address for that place out-”

he does take you out to dinner, a cute place where he pulls out your chair for you and holds your hand in his on the table. he gets you flowers that match the color of your new dress, which are resting in the backseat of his car now. he kisses your cheek when he helps you put your jacket back on. then he slaps your ass when you’re getting into the passenger seat of his truck, because now it’s his turn to have fun with that dress.

later that night, close to sleep, you paw at his arm and ask for ice cream. the two of you are on the road five minutes later. he turns his head at the red light to watch you lick your cone. then you hold it up to his mouth so he can have some too, smiling and laughing when he takes a big bite.

he's starting to think he likes when you bother him for stuff.

[erraticreflections]

[isawthismeme]