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I cannot get over those long-snout dog breeds that really do that nose thing. Like there's something interesting to sniff a little bit to the side, but not interesting enough to turn your whole head to sniff, and they just go

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It's honestly such a shame that we've made such a huge thing out of swimming and swimsuits and looking good in swimsuits and fat people not looking good in swimsuits. Swimming is actually the perfect exercise for fat people because it puts zero pressure on the joints, which is a much bigger concern for us than it is for skinny people, and lets you exercise basically every muscle group without straining too much and risking injury. Yet somehow this is one of the least accessible exercises to fat people due to nothing more than a culture of body shaming. The work to unlearn all the shame to be comfortable in a bathing suit in front of strangers is huge even for conventionally attractive people, but I could probably count on one hand the number of fat people I've met who were confident enough to get in a bathing suit and go swimming in public.

And what is the exercise that somehow everyone thinks they should do instead? Jogging. It's more accessible, sure, it's easy and costs nothing to go outside and run. But I need you to understand telling a fat person to go running is basically telling them to go destroy their knees. Not to mention it's probably one of the most physically uncomfortable exercises to do when you have a body that jiggles even with compression garments.

Imagine a world where everyone had the ability and equal access to whatever exercise fit them best and helped them be happy and healthiest. Imagine a world where fat people go swimming.

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Sometimes I wonder whether people on this site ever pause to ask themselves "what is the point/goal/purpose of this post? What is OP getting at, and trying to communicate?" before answering. Because someone could write a post like

"I fucking hate gluten. I wish there was a version of this specific thing that has zero fucking gluten in it, absolutely no gluten of any sort. Like the very essence of gluten is nowhere to be seen. A photo negative platonic ideal of a thing defined in its very core by the complete and perfect absence of gluten."

And someone will reply with "ooh I like this, but I know what would make it even better: Throw in some gluten! :)"

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Stone’s trying to count every individual hair on that man’s chest and honestly I am to

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They will be using their cuteness to do evil

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Amnesia Robotnik x Villain Stone my beloved

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u know what makes me lowkey sad? when someone says ‘i know it seems silly’ before talking about something they clearly care very deeply about bc u know that means someone gave them shit for caring that much about that thing before which is Fucked Up.

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who would i be if i didn't draw them as lesbians

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Transitioning gives you interesting perspective on how peoples' perception of your build changes more than your build actually does. I'm about 3 cm taller than the national female average where I'm from, and in my teens was just the most basic default settings standard-average build bitch. Can carry buckets of rocks and do other shitty yard work, separate two fighting dogs, is just fine walking 4 km home drunk in heels, short skirt and fishnet stockings at 2 am in a blizzard. Hoes are immune to frost damage anyway. Can't kill one of them things. Could be strapped on a yoke to plough a field if you don't have an ox.

But eight years on testosterone, ID changed and top surgery healed, I'm the same damn build and people will ask if I'm ok managing things that I'm perfectly fine with. Had a doctor who was 100% aware of my robust health describe my build as "delicate". I first wondered whether my boyfriend's family doesn't actually consider me male over being reluctant about letting me do physical outdoor work, before I noted that they're totally fine with his sister doing the same kind of work. And she's anemic and allergic to the fucking sun.

I'm about the same weight and height as I was when I was 16, but somehow a 16-year-old girl can be expected to have the relative strength and resilience of a cockroach, but a 30-something man the size of a 16-year-old girl is something that might die if someone sneezes too loud.

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Now what’s the reason for Spock to say this while beeing affected by something that makes you imagine “the thing that matters the most”??? And what do you mean Kirk stops abruptly before giving too much away??? Giving what away??? That you’re gay??? That you’re so unbelievably gay for your first officer??? And that he’s just as gay for you??? What do you mean???😀😀😀

From “The Winged Dreamers” by Jennifer Guttridge

In “Star Trek: The New Voyages” (1976)

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I guess the biggest problem with tentacle porn is that it seldom has a positive message

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The Bentley veered hard around a corner, tires screeching as Valkyrie strangled the panic handle above the door.

“You’re going to tip us,” she snapped.

“Don’t be silly, Valkyrie,” Skulduggery said calmly, adjusting the rearview mirror as he swerved into another lane, aggressively violating at least three traffic laws.

Something thudded on the roof. The car rocked. Valkyrie glared upward like she could shame the intruder through the metal.

“Oh, goodie,” she muttered. “Roof goblin.”

“Not a goblin,” Skulduggery corrected. “He’s some kind of adept. Very punchable. Would you—”

Another thud interrupted him, presumably the adept trying to cling to something.

“—take the wheel?” he finished.

Valkyrie blinked at him. “What.”

Skulduggery was already twisting in his seat, unclipping his seatbelt. “Drive, Valkyrie.”

“I don’t have a license!” she protested, eyes wide.

“You have magic and strong opinions. That’s close enough.”

He flung the door open mid-motion. Wind howled. Valkyrie scrambled into the driver’s seat as he climbed out of the Bentley like this was a normal Tuesday.

“You’re insane!” she yelled, slamming the door shut behind him.

“Correct!” he called over the roar, now upright on the roof, trench coat flaring behind him as he swung a punch at the grinning man crouched there.

Valkyrie gritted her teeth. The car swerved as the two grappled above her.

“I swear to God.”

The roof rocked violently. Valkyrie cursed and yanked the wheel, narrowly missing the curb.

“Can you not?” she shouted upward.

There was a muffled reply, followed by the unmistakable sound of someone getting kicked in the face.

Something exploded behind her. Valkyrie checked the mirror. A motorcyclist had joined the chase, throwing fireballs.

“Oh, come on,” she groaned. “Who throws fire at a car? That’s just rude.”

Up top, the adept bounced off the roof as Skulduggery kicked him square in the chest. He slid down the windshield, hit the hood with a thump, and tumbled onto the road.

Valkyrie swerved, narrowly missing him. The motorcyclist wasn’t so lucky—he hit the mage and launched, using the poor guy like a ramp.

Valkyrie winced. “Ouch.”

Skulduggery slipped back in through the passenger window with the elegance of someone who clearly did this often. He adjusted his cuffs.

“You’re doing fine.” He said.

“I hit a guy,” she hissed.

“He landed on you. Legally distinct.”

She glared at him. “You are never teaching me how to drive.”

“I wasn’t teaching. I was delegating.”

A fireball whooshed past. Skulduggery leaned out casually and shot the motorcycle’s front tire. The rider veered wildly, crashed into a mailbox, and exploded.

“Why do they always explode?” Valkyrie muttered.

“Poor craftsmanship. The union’s really gone downhill.”

A sharp clang echoed above them.

“Is that another one?” Valkyrie shouted. “Where are they even coming from?”

“Ah. Roof gremlin again,” Skulduggery said, reloading his revolver. “Big fan of dramatic entrances.”

“You know this because…?”

“He monologued.”

“Of course he did.”

Another crash, heavier this time. Two thuds.

“…How many are up there now?”

“Three,” Skulduggery said cheerfully. “One’s got a sword.”

“Fantastic. Should I wave a white flag or just aim for the nearest wall?”

“Let’s keep the wall as a strong plan B.”

The Bentley surged forward. Valkyrie hunched over the wheel like it would somehow make the car go faster.

“Tell me you’ve got a plan A.”

“I do,” said Skulduggery, cocking the gun.

She shot him a look. “Is it a good plan?”

“No.”

She sighed. “Naturally.”

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is this anything

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Skulduggery Pleasant truly the character of all time. He's a noir detective. He's 400 years old. He hates coffee. His best friend is a teenage girl he met at a funeral. He clawed his way out of his own grave. He has a crush on Grace Kelly. He's a mass murderer. He has undiagnosed ADHD. He has a room in his house that contains spare bones in case he breaks one. He hasn't slept in 300 years. His father is the divine embodiment of chaos and this fact isn't even relevant to the fact that he is casually one of the most powerful sorcerers to ever walk the earth. He's bisexual. He's incredibly annoying on purpose just for the fun of it. What a man.

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Valkyrie Cain is such a wonderful character. Wretched beast of a woman. Has dirty laundry lying under her bed. Her subconscious turned into its own person and is evil. Her reflection is also evil. She's claustrophobic. She's bisexual. She's a horse girl. Her best friend is a 400 year old corpse. She's buff as hell. She's terrible at flirting. She was a weird lonely preteen. She's the most powerful sorceress in the world. She routinely slept on some random couch until she was like fifteen and the irresponsible adult / corpse dragging her along to magical adventures got her her own bed in his house. She's a girlfailure/girlboss super combo and I love her.

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Tanith <3

they are training falling in love

"FUCK CANON!" *makes Ghastly hot*

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I'd apologize in advance but we both know I'm not sorry. <3

They had Tanith for a long time man