I've got a plan, with a capital p, l, a.
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seattle gothic
they want to refurbish the troll’s car. you don’t want to remember what is inside. you can still hear it trying to get out through the sand, on quiet days. you have dreams that you force yourself to wake up from. the next day, it is smugly silent. you are glad to not see it.
you look down into the park. it is closed. there is someone there, waiting for you. they were there the last night, and the night before that. sometimes, they have a dog. you have never joined them. you have never talked to them. you have never seen their face. you are glad.
the wind howls. you tell yourself it is the wind. a branch falls. you tell yourself it is the wind. something scrapes across your window. you tell yourself it is the wind. something breathes wetly by your ear. you tell yourself it is the wind.
the sun retreats again behind the clouds. you peek out from inside your home, look up. something that you choose to believe is a plane goes by. you pull up the shades. the sun can’t see you anymore.
a man on a bicycle stops you. you take out your ear bud. “do you think,” he pants, sweat streaming down his face, “that the united states government is afraid of its citizenry?” he repeats himself in swahili, then vietnamese, still panting. you tell him that you heard him the first time. you put your ear bud in and keep walking.
the city hates umbrellas. you learned your lesson after you broke your third. it was bad enough that there were holes in the fabric. you pull your hood up. the city is pleased.
you watch the ducks go out, people inside them. you watch the ducks come in, people inside them. sometimes, they are even the same people. or wearing the skin of the same people. you prefer not to think about it.
you drive across the toll bridge. you glance up, read the price per axle. you do some quick math. you mentally promise the city five eighths of your second born child.
every day, there is a homeless person under the bridge. every day, you try to ignore them. every day, you hear them knock on your window. every day, you hear them gnaw on your car’s antenna. every day, the light turns green, and you speed on, grateful. every day, you buy a new car antenna. the old one has someone’s cheek on it.
you use the carpool lane. the fish nibble on your toes. you use the carpool lane. the moss grows in your shirt. you use the carpool lane. you use the carpool lane.
it is raining. the sun is shining. you sweat. where can you do your ceremony? the sun is shining. you reach over to the blinds, pause. the rain has to see you. you pull on your thickest coat. your gloves. your mask. the sun is shining. the sun does not recognize you. the rain does.
where do the buildings end? you drive. and you drive. and you drive. the people here stare at your car, hungry. you turn off your headlights. the buildings do not end. you turn on your headlights. the trees recognize you. you do not recognize the trees. the buildings do not end.
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“LOOKS LIKE MEAT’S BACK ON THE MENU, BOYS“ bellows the Orc to his Orc friends. Orcs know what menus are. Orcs know what restaurants are. are there bistros in Mordor? these are the questions i need answering
The moss-troll problem, or, Accidental Worldbuilding Through Metaphors
(via dundee998)
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ok like i don’t use any sort of like tumblr saviour or w/e but fnaf shit freaks me the fuck out, especially the default pic for the youtube thing for fnaf three and just
maybe i should start using that stuff
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“Feminism is not about who opens the jar.
It is not about who pays for the date. It is not about who moves the couch. It is not about who kills the bugs. It is not about who cooks the dinner. It’s not even about who stays home with the kids, as long as the decision was made together, after thinking carefully about your situation and coming to an agreement that makes sense for your particular marriage and family.
It is about making sure that nobody ever has to do anything by “default” because of their gender. The stronger person should move the couch. The person who enjoys cooking more, has more time for it, and/or is better at it should do the cooking. Sometimes the stronger person is male, sometimes not. Sometimes the person who is best suited for cooking is female, sometimes not. You should do what works.
But it is also about letting people know that it is okay to change. If you’re a woman who wants to become stronger, that’s great. If you’re a man who wants to learn how to cook, that’s also great. You might start out with a relationship where the guy opens all the jars and the girl cooks all the meals, but you might find that you want to try something else. So try it.” -
Do guys in a bromance get each other flowers
‘dude here I got you some broses’
'oh man bro you read my mind I got you some daffodudes’
(via baskinglongma)
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fuck this joke honestly. It’s been a trend these past couple years at these award shows where a white says something like this and all the whites giggle together but aint none of them do shit after that shit settle. they laugh in the comfort of their privilege. like they just say this to be quirky. something as severe as this is brought up and everyone laughs cuz they know it’s true but it means nothing to them. it’s nothing serious. It’s like “haha, i guess that is messed up. whelp im comfortable as fuck tho so ima keep doing me”
(via dognett)
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April Fool’s day is coming
Hey so I know some of my followers might be nervous about april fool’s day coming up so I just wanted to proclaim that I will NOT be linking any screamers on my blog that day.
(via birdnerdpearl)
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for 300 followers i’m probably going to do a writing giveaway
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wayward-sons-and-fallen-angels:
typing at 100 wpm(waluigis per minute)
exactly how fast is that
100 waluigis per minute, 600 waluigis per hour.
6000 waluigis per hour
(via nintandos)
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Petition to start calling TERFs (trans-exclusionary radical feminists) what they really are instead of a silly acronym: transmisogynists. There’s absolutely nothing ‘radical’ about excluding trans women from women’s rights. Let’s also stop inadvertently perpetuating the idea that there’s a side of feminism that isn’t accepting of trans women because that’s simply not true. If your feminism doesn’t support trans women, then it’s not feminism. Point blank, period.
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tbh i feel a lot safer around trans people than i do cis people
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tbh all i really need to be happy is to have my needs met and to cuddle with something living i love that wants to be there
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im not anti porn but i am so very anti porn industry/mainstream porn
i am anti women being abused and drugged up and used to sell material that advocates violence against women and other terrible things(via theelderscrotes)