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Turns out sometimes your hot friends ARE flirting with you

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My sister sent this to me, and as a lesbian in MA I can't say anything lmao

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Small game idea I've had for a while:

You're taking a history exam. You haven't studied. The exam is about some completely fictional event in a fictional country. It's all multiple choice questions about this made-up history. Here's the trick, though: the exam is really poorly made, in that way where a lot of the questions (and the answers they give) inadvertently give hints to the answers of different questions.

So you'll get, for example, "who assassinated Chancellor Eurich?" and "who was the Chancellor in 1895" and "what event in early 1896 precipitated the Great Power Struggle" You have to determine from the test itself what the answers are and get as good a score as you can.

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If you had to brutally narrow it down to just one, who’s your favourite of your original characters?

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Euripides (Tr. Anne Carson) / @wholeheartedsuggestions / Jenny Slate / Euripides again

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Silly phone, you're not detecting an analog audio accessory, you're detecting soup, from the bowl of soup I dropped you in.

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im obsessed. im fucking obsessed. im not actually all that knowledgeable on jamie p's full catalogue but BIRDBRAIN is infecting every corner of my brain because it's Extremely Deliberate Amateurishness. Teto has like three false starts, she sings the wrong lyrics, you can hear her stumble, you can hear her strain her voice somehow (no fucking clue how you program a vocaloid track to sound strained like that) and it gives this whole song this wonderful feeling of anxiety and uncertainty in the most charming possible way for a song with the lyric "i keep on running like a chicken with its head cut off". like. it is so endearing that there is a song with a singer that is absolutely as Perfect as you Need Her To Be and it takes extra effort to write in fuck-ups and vocal strains and Jamie did it anyway. it gives the song such a real quality despite having a very robotic vocalist. thats so cool!!! thats SO COOL!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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Trying to inflict psychic damage to a tumblr user is like trying to irradiate a cockroach, like it can be done, but the lethal dose is not safe for humans either

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being a hater and being a troll are different but idk how to articulate the difference

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controversial opinion but unfortunately you are your actions and what you say. if you are mean to people, it doesn’t matter if you sometimes have secret kind thoughts. fortunately you are your actions and what you say. if you are kind in your actions and your words, it doesn’t matter if you sometimes have mean thoughts. the power is in working against inner negative thoughts and being a better person despite it. you have the ability to cultivate the person you want to be.

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You wake up from a hundred year sleep. Linguistic drift has occurred. People are making references to things that are utterly incomprehensible to you.

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5 years ago, I was in Rehab.

10 years ago, I was watching my Potential and Opportunities dissolve and evaporate in an ocean of cheap gin and expensive whiskey.

But 5 years ago, I was in Rehab.

One of the exercises they had us perform was to imagine ourselves happy, 5 years in the future.

Many of us in that room had forgotten how to imagine nice things happening to them. A few snorted (well, I snorted), finding the notion that we’d even still be around in 5 years grimly humorous.

For about half of us, it was the last stop on the way down.

But I indulged the therapist. I was there, after all, because I did not want to die. So, I imagined myself, 5 years hence.

Happy.

It came to me all at once; an artistic remix on Norman Rockwell’s Freedom From Want, reframed with myself placing food at the table.

Sunday Dinner At My Place, I answered, when it came my turn to share my fantasy. I was asked what food I imagined eating.

It’s not the meal itself, I said, it’s the implications framed around it. Sunday Dinner At My Place means that I have a Place. It means that I have Family that will actually speak to me and friends who actually want to see me. It means money enough not just to feed myself but others too. It means having the time to spare to take the time preparing the meal.

A lot of nodding heads all around me. A struck chord. Many people with no Place, in that place. Nowhere that would lament their leaving.

5 years hence, as I lay down to sleep in my Home, with my Wife and my Son, surrounded by my Art and my Flowers, I reflect.

It was a long road. It was hard. We lost people. So many people. There were long days and long nights and hospital stays. Angry arguments with ghosts. I changed, in ways I never hoped for, or expected. Good ways, finally, for once. Slowly, against the backdrop of a world in chaos, I found my mind.

Sometimes, My Wife wondered aloud, what she did to deserve me. After some stumbling with my feelings, I eventually settled on an answer.

I’m a Rescue.

She gave me a Home.

And, so, I gave her a Family.

It seemed fair

This Sunday, my folks, which whom I have not had a shouting match in years, will come over for dinner. We will cook and eat together. My Friend became My Wife, and she took a piece of me and with it she made Our Son. There will be many hugs, and no violence. Good Things Happened.

I don’t know who needs to hear this, but you don’t know what the future holds.

don’t give up yet, ok?

It could get good, even.

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Post resurrection WWX saying "But did you die?" every time someone is complaining about stuff in his presence making everyone kinda awkward and uncomfortable until one day he does it to Wen Ning and Wen Ning just goes "yeah" and stares at him for a full minute until they both start laughing.

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Do you ever think Chat Noir takes Ladybug's instructions to keep identities secret a little too seriously to the point it crosses back over to being hilarious?

I'm thinking in terms of "deliberately encourages misinformation about himself". The internet has a couple theories about Ladybug's identity (mostly just the basics which she's personally confirmed, because Ladybug is a very private person with a history of dropping the Eiffel Tower on people she doesn't like), but they've *exploded* over Chat Noir. Hundreds if not thousands of theories over who (and/or what, and/or how) he could be. They range from the mundane to the extreme, and Chat goes out of his way to "confirm" as many theories as possible, even when they're blatantly false and make zero sense whatsoever. Adrien Agreste has like ten separate sockpuppet accounts on Reddit and the Ladyblog forums and they're all devoted to spreading conspiracy theories about Chat Noir with varying levels of rationality.

It helps that Adrien has a huge variety of skills and talents that he basically never uses in his normal life because they were only stuff he learned to please his parents, but now he can put all those skills to use as "evidence" to confirm weird theories. "Hey, Chat Noir, is it true you're actually not from France but actually [random country]?" And Chat just responds with a couple sentences of perfectly fluent [random country's most common language] explaining that he's not allowed to confirm or deny that theory.

It drives Ladybug insane. It drives Alya Cesaire insane. It drives the villains insane. And it's the most fun Adrien's ever had. Maybe Ladybug was onto something with this "keeping our identities secret" thing after all!