really tho straight guys will go on and on about how uncomfortable it makes them when gay guys hit on them but lets be fucking honest how many times have u seen a guy continue to hit on another guy after hes visibly uncomfortable vs. how many times a straight guy has continued to hit on a girl after shes visibly uncomfortable
This needs more notes
On the contrary, my dear anonymous, I can be whatever you want me to be. ;)
Or even a lamp:
oh yes, especially a lamp.
WHY DO YOU LIVE IN MY ROOM
WHAT IS GOING ON
It would have been nice if you told me before you started living on my bookshelf.
OH MY GOD
I hope glee does a last competition and are really scared because the opposing team’s lead singer is supposed to be the best in the entire country and slowly the curtain goes up and there he is
Translation: I don’t understand the difference between sex organs and secondary sex characteristics, nor do I understand how society has coded certain secondary sex characteristics to be sexual while others are left “neutral.” I also don’t understand how I am drawing a false equivalency between hair and breasts, as only one has been sexualized within Western cultures, and I’m really desperate to justify my own obsession with sexually harassing women.
Now they are secondary sex characteristics? Are we just going to keep on making up words until men aren’t allowed to look at women?
Feminists didn’t make up the term “secondary sex characteristics” to shame men for looking at women. It’s a scientific term for features that appear when a person or any other animal has reached sexual maturity. Here’s the wikipedia article since you were unable to look it up yourself.
People are of course allowed to appreciate others’ bodies. What is not acceptable is sending objectifying messages to a total stranger about the way their body looks.
Why is this so fucking difficult?
I AM FUCKING SCREAMING BECAUSE THIS IS SERIOUSLY THE BEST THING EVER
You have your mother’s cheek bones
godDAMMIT NOW WE’RE SHIPPING CUTLERY
TUMBLR YOU NEED TO S T O P
I hope this post comes back to me when it has a short story attached.
The Utensils were a happy family, just like any other. Fork was a loving, caring father, who worked at a bank, and Spoon was his beautiful wife, who owned a small business that allowed her to spend a lot of time with their son, Spork. Every day, when Fork came home from work, he gently clinked against the rim of Spoon’s face and asked how her day had been. She would go on and on about how her Aunt Bowl was letting anyone fill her up these days, and telling him he would never guess who they got a phone call from today (it was his brother, Knife), and he would just lean back against the china cabinet, staring at his wife’s beautiful reflective surface, and know everything was right in the world.
One day, however, everything was suddenly not right in the world at all.
Fork woke up in the silverware drawer and instantly knew something was wrong. He looked over to where Spoon normally slept, confused when he saw nothing but empty space. Or, at least, he thought it was empty. It took him a minute to see the small note left there. Oh no. God, no, he thought.
He picked up the note with shaking prongs, and read amid tears:
I’m sorry to leave you like this, but I just couldn’t face seeing you. It’s too painful. I’m not strong enough to tell you this to your face, and I know that makes me a coward. I know that makes me a horrible utensil. But I can’t do this anymore.
Do you remember Cow’s party the other night? The night she was so drunk she swore she jumped over the moon? Well, I met someone that night. His name is Dish. And we’re running away together.
Please, don’t try and find us. Dish makes me happy. He doesn’t spend all day staring at me, looking at himself in my reflection.
Fork collapsed to the ground, wishing he could tell Spoon that the reason he loved staring at her reflective surface so much, was because of the way her surface magnified everything around her, making it seem so much greater and more beautiful than people could see themselves as normally. Her personality did the same thing. It’s what he loved most about her. And what he would miss most of all.
I CAN’T EVEN WITH THIS FUCKING SITE.
sweet jesus i’m crying over cutlery
opinions on abortions are kinda like nipples
everyone has them but women’s are a little bit more relevant
But all you ever see are men’s
i knew this guy in middle school who when asked about his future plans, even by school counselors or teachers would without fail always chant,
KICK ASS, GO TO SPACE
REPRESENT THE HUMAN RACE
i wonder what he’s up to these days.
more fanfictions about muggle-borns sneaking in pencils and calculators, and trading them illicitly, little black-market eraser dealers and “yo I got some graph paper if you wanna fuckin pass astronomy this year”
can they be nicknamed smuggle-borns or
A guy once told my lesbian friend that being a lesbian is a huge turn off for guys and that she’ll never find a boyfriend.