#doesn't exist

[dittography-direwolf]

Asexuality doesn't exist.

[kamisamabest]

ableists are actually so stupid im lmao

@pumpkin-the-girlie-girl-vixen , narcissistic abuse doesn't exist. you stupid ableist people made that up. that's like saying "i was abused by a brunette,im a victim of brunette abuse :("

go search the types of abuse. you will not find a single thing mentioning some bullshit like "narcissistic abuse" unless it's made by a stupid,dumb ableist like you. narcissistic/narcissist is someone that has npd, narcissistic personality disorder. it's not someone that thinks of themselves all the time,not someone that is an asshole for no reason,and most definitely,not someone that has black eyes whenever they get mad. you tell me to educate myself when you don't even know that.

you can't label someone who doesn't have npd as a narcissist/narcissistic,because it is ableist and stupid. if your abuser abused you, that's exclusive to them. just because you don't like a person doesn't mean you can call then a narc.

oh and if your abuser DID have npd which i doubt with the way how many of you dumb ableists lie,that doesn't mean you can demonize the whole community. if you do,then you're a fucking idiot. just because your abuser was a narc doesn't mean every single narc is like them.

you should be the one educating yourself,you stupid fucking ableist shit.

[timdrakecoffeemug]

I refuse to believe that everyone on tiktok thinks that batcest is an actual think, specially with jaytim. some of you gotta be lying to fit in !!

[cronenrat]

goncharov walked so that annoying ass zepotha could run

[gregdotorg]

a detail from @octavio-world's post of Cady Noland archival Polaroids at her show of otherwise (mostly) new work at Gagosian in NYC reveals a new category of sculpture: Doesn't Exist.

[vampiricfruitcake]

Google search : a job i can do 60%, pays enough to live off on, doesn't include customer service or much responsibility at all, leaves nights and weekends off <3

[alcrescendoarch]

i truly am so tired of spider-man media acting like gwen stacy (other than spider-gwen) doesn't exist

[teddybeartoji]

there's so much construction work going on where i live and they keep taking busses and trams away from meeeee broooo how do you expect me to go anywhere like thisssssss

[winchestersickness]

Dean is such a tragic character in the way the two people he loves the most, the only two people he has in the world, are both obsessed with finding and killing the thing that took away what they loved the most. They're both lost in their turmoil that they don't have enough love to spare to love him back.

[acciopeanutbutter]

crisis more like cry 😭 sis 💅

[renee-writer]

June Prompts Day 7 Doesn't Exist

It doesn't exist

A Patriot that hates this country

We might occasionally

Have issues

With the government

But never this

Great Experiment.

[drjackabbots]

the thing about the mummy movies is that you really spend most of the time thinking "wow brendan fraser's character is so cool" or "man oded fehr is so mysterious and heroic" when the fact of the matter is that these two

are the absolute most batshit insane heroes in the entire franchise

these two are intellectual loner siblings with archeology backgrounds who read and speak ancient egyptian, hire a dude directly out of prison to take them to a lost city of gold, and fight mummies literally with their bare hands. twice.

no one in these movies stands a chance against the carnahans. frankly they're lethal in how willing they are to make the absolute and most undeniably deranged decisions. jonathan pickpockets a dude on fire. evy's resurrected from the dead and immediately remembers how to use sai. they're racking shotguns from a cliff in this scene and then proceed to blow away half the antagonists.

rick and ardeth should be so lucky

[eraserbread]

there's something in the air around you... your husband, nanami, notices it immediately ✧

→ pregnant!reader, panty-sniffer nanami, fingering, mentions of oral, suggestive content

perhaps it's a new perfume, but you never switched from the one he picked out. you've used the same detergent since you were a teenager and match body wash with him.

there hasn't been a change in your lifestyle at all. kento swears he's not crazy...

then, he thinks he might actually be because he's standing in front of the washer with your black silk panties pressed to his nose. you just took them off this morning, so your smell is fresh—mouthwatering—yet different—a good difference.

"ken, i've been dreaming about milk bread from that bakery in-" you're stepping into the room, arms crossed around your traditional robe. you took off your clothes to shower, and now he's nose-deep. "...what are you doing?"

"oh." he replies haphazardly, pretending like he didn't just get caught sniffing your panties. he tosses them in with the rest of the clothes. "yes, dear. milk bread sounds lovely. you know, they do sandwiches too-

"why were you... wait, you're sniffing my panties? are you okay?"

"oh," he repeats, looking down to the contained mess of dark clothes in the drum. "I know... it's odd... i was just wondering why your pheromones have been dipping recently." he turns to you, shutting the washer and leaning against the waist-height appliance. "have you been taking any new medications? no, right? i would know?"

you swallow silence, knowing exactly what he was sensing... and silly you, you know your husband is mystic and observational. you should really tell him about that positive pregnancy test you have hiding in the wardrobe.

now is not that time. you shake your head. "no..."

so, he nods you over. "come here, now. i've been stewing over the matter for a few days."

kento sits you on top of the purring washing machine after he turns it on, giving you a passing kiss as you settle. You still get so flustered with him, and it's heightened right now—you just caught him with a noseful of your most private garments, taking it in like it was flora.

"well, firstly i thought it might've been a new bodywash... but we share."

"mhm." you nod, lips pressing together as he pushes your legs open. under the robe you're completely naked, but the shadow keeps you decent. "'s not the bodywash."

"yes. then, i figured... well, it's more likely to be an internal change. i can smell it waft when you walk by."

"are you saying i stink?"

his eyes get dark. he's staring right into your soul. "no."

you're purring - a steady engine coming to life within you that matches the tremors of the wash cycle. between your thighs, he reaches for your familiar cunt, knowing right where to reach, where he should bypass, and the entirety of your shape. instead of teasing your clit, getting you ready for further stimulation, he slides his thick middle finger inside of you, buried to the hilt.

you take a breath, he cocks an eyebrow. "me smelling you like that... it didn't make you uncomfortable, did it?"

you're shaking your head immediately, reaching a hand to plant on his big, homey shoulder. he's hunching pretty far to get as close as possible, nose trailing over yours when he whispers.

"i don't... i don't even know what that means—mhmf." you squeeze your eyes shut, body twisting as he slips his pointer finger ring-deep inside of you. the shiny metal shocks your soul, twisting at your entrance as his digits stretch you sensually.

then, he chuckles. actually—real, rare. "good. i love you. all of you." he twists his fingers and pulls them out, drinking up your flustered gasps as he brings the glistening pair to his nose, taking a long sniff.

you're reacting like a fish out of water, opening and closing your lips as you try to make sense of it all. before two thoughts can connect, he's dragging those damp fingers to his lips, staring at you hotly as he takes them in his mouth.

he settles on a deep, throaty. "mmm..." cheeks hollowing around them like your taste is his favorite meal. "you're sweeter, too."

[shortnasties]

2989. The Machine That Doesn't Exist

This is "The machine That Doesn't Exist." It's that day.

He wished there were a machine that would let him know his interests. Which of this or that was more his speed. If somebody asked which of these was more him, he could just go to the machine and it would tell him, and them. Then they'd have an idea of who he was, what kind of person they could amount him to. But sadly no machine as such existed. So, nobody knew what kind of chap he was. Least of all, him.