#is this venting. i dont know.

[popponn]

you know in my country there are some jokes i really wish i could use in english but THEN THEY ARE NOT AS FUNNY. so here is me explaining them like cyno

"pelan pelan pak supir" - please slow down mister driver - like you use this when the other party is immediately getting to the point in a very quick and blunt wording.

"minimal skill satu dulu" - at least use the first skill first (in gnsn language, use e before q / ultimate) - same as pls slow down mr driver

"ikuti kata tukang parkir" "2000?" "mundur alon alon/oph!!!" - "follow what the parking attendant say" "2000? (the joke here is this is how much most people say for parking here)" "back down slowly / stop!!! ('oph' is from 'stop' without the st)" - used in situations to basically say "buddy i think you should stop doing that", mostly in "buddy i dont think they even like you back for even a little bit. back off"

[chainmail-butch]

We (The Panthers) were out doing food distribution yesterday and there was a homeless trans woman with cerebral palsy.

And just. Fuck me, man. It was all we could do to get her some estrogen. We gave her some razors but like. Can she even use them?

It felt more personal. Here was one of my sisters at the lowest she could possibly be and there was nothing I could fucking do.

I haven't been able to get her out of my mind.

She couldn't speak. She was terrified of men. She was on the corner begging for cigarettes. There was a smear going down her cheek from where she had applied her lipstick. She started crying when she saw another black transwoman. When she held me I could feel her drowning.

Fuck.

[catsauceeartofficial]

Accepting isolation, craving belonging

[moondirti]

blue collar simon x gn! reader. implied cnc.

Simon finds a journal on his lunch break.

It's inconspicuous. A5 black moleskin with an elastic holding it's contents together, bits of paper sticking out like nails on a poorly constructed house frame. He only notices it because his cooler slips off the bench when he blindly places it atop the fat book, sandwiches and packets of crisps now strewn across the dirty pedway.

The day's already been shit. A motley of blows, each made worse by the torrid sun overhead, sweat to cling to his grievances. An uptight site manager. A near loss of life after some tenderfoot got caught in between an excavation truck and the wall. Even his too-long hair, which curls around red ears – having not had a chance to buzz it off since being called in for this job. It's no wonder, then, that the tiny mishap stirs as severe of a reaction as it does; he chucks his hard hat across the road, satisfied only when it finds its fate mid-lane, an obstruction to inevitably fuck the tires on a white collar's new car.

When his rage settles as smouldering ash in his chest, he picks his food off the floor and cracks open the source of his animosity.

With no name or number, the first page holds just a chicken-scratch address. Interesting. Its owner hasn't made this easy on him, crafting it like one would a game. A skewing of traditional acquaintance. Granting nothing of their superficial identity, yet unrestricted access to their innermost thoughts. Thus he's forced to paint his own picture of the figure behind the words.

And what a picture indeed.

The first entry is brief.

13.02 – My therapist expects at least three pages a week. I'm not doing any of that, so don't get your hopes up.

It's evident that you don't stick to your guns. Though the next one is dated several months later, so he see's the attempt had been made. Written in a whole new hand, like you'd picked a dry pen off the floor and practiced your non-dominant grip:

08.05 – I broke my arm playing tennis. The umpire called a match-point in my opponent's favour and I threw the racket at his head.

I am no longer allowed to play tennis. What good is that resolution? My radius has a greenstick fracture. I'm already out of the game.

His laugh is abrasive and sudden, like it'd been pried from his chest by a pair of careless hands. Or as close to that analogy as it can get – your anger is intoxicating and only grows more potent across the pages. Inadvertently amusing. Simon chews through the tough crust of his torpedo roll as he reads, time wearing away under the stiff comb of your words.

There's hardly any variation in your cataloguing –

10.06 – The universe must need more bad people in it, because it tests my limits everyday. Can the fuck next door snore any louder? It's 2 am, goddammit. I wonder if it'd be overkill to ship nasal strips to his mailbox.

26.06 – Dad called today. Didn't pick up.

04.07 – I'm close to killing Kathleen. There's a reason the food in the fridge is labelled as MINE. GET YOUR GRUBBY PAWS OFF OF IT!

13.07 – The world is a shitty, stupid, crappy, icky, lousy, rotten, stinking, stinky, bad place. I hate my coworkers and friends and parents and landlord and etc etc. It's like everyone is out to get me.

– so it's like the honed curl of a hook. Whiplash-inducing, reeling his attention so quick that his neck strains in phantom pain. Simon stops everything, elbows settling onto his knees as he fixates on one entry in particular.

30.07 – I stand by what I said. The world is uniquely horrible. I think that's because I make it that way for myself. Whatever this exercise was meant to do for me, rage relief or introspection or whatever, it's clearly not working. I'm just as angry as I was before. Maybe burning these pages would help. I wish I could play tennis again. I don't know what to do with my hands anymore. I got fired last week. Need groceries. Eggs, spinach. Spinach always goes bad and I never make use of it. I keep buying it though. Dad keeps calling. I've got a migraine and I've run out of advil.

I just need someone to put me in my place.

And it ends there. No more entries after the fact, just a handful of blank pages before the journal wraps to a close.

He flips back over to the address at front. Looking at it a second time, he can tell the ink is still fresh.

Perhaps he misinterprets it. Perhaps it hits a little too close to home. It wouldn’t be the first time he looks for salvation in the empty lines someone leaves behind. Perhaps it’s just been a bad day, and he should go home before he does something he’ll regret. Perhaps it’s nothing at all.

Or–

Perhaps he sees it for what it is.

Here are all my colours. What you choose to do, or think, is no longer my concern.

[whats-this-mustelid]

This is BARELY related to this blog but I just saw a post in a local fb group from someone who hired a pet setter, and while they were out of the country she intentionally let their indoor cat out, didn't tell them when it went missing, and then when they found out and confronted her she argued that keeping their cat indoors was cruel. I am filled with homicidal rage.

The cat was last seen three days ago please send good vibes

Edit: the cat is home safe, and back indoors!

[starry-bi-sky]

Broke: danny runs away from bruce wayne because he reminds him of Vlad (bad, overused, fundamentally misunderstands Bruce’s character as a whole for a shit joke)

Woke: bruce wayne doesnt remind danny of vlad masters, but of his best friend sam manson

black hair? check ✅

jewish? check ✅

richer than god? check ✅

gothic? well, mister wayne isnt himself but he lives in the most gothic city on earth so quasi-check ✅

loudly and proudly an activist for various rights including environmental and womens' rights? check ✅

im tired of the "oh danny runs away from bruce because he's rich and reminds him of vlad" give me a danny who actually likes bruce because he reminds him of his awesome kickass best friend who is also stupidly rich

like i’ve been told about the whole “oh fruit loop joke” before and i still think its a cheap, shallow joke if i’ve ever heard one that flanderizes Bruce’s character to an impressive degree. Vlad and Bruce are only comparable in the same sense that they’re both rich and Bruce adopts kids — but he isn’t doing it because of the “adoption addiction” joke, he’s doing it because he sees himself in the kids he adopts and he wants to give them better than he did. Vlad wants Danny as his son to spite Jack, they are not remotely comparable beyond that.

Like, beyond that too i highly doubt vlad masters gives his employees benefits like bruce wayne does. who canonically hires reformed villains and has various branches of medical, industrial, technology, etc in his company in order to help the people of gotham. does Vlad Masters run charities, soup kitchens, etc?? is Vlad contributing to the community? No, no he isnt.

[sunlit-mess]

spam

[abusedpixie]

𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐈 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐯𝐨𝐢𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈'𝐦 𝐞𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐈 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐮𝐩 𝐬𝐡𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠

“𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰“

[cherrycro]

[smuby]

I am literally allergic to posting things normally here. Also kid Goku design by sporkks as per usual (hi sporkks if you see this)

[hatekawa]

sunset duo comic i sketched yesterday

[lomltrentarnold]

i think you’re pretty — trent alexander-arnold ₊˚ෆ

🍓 hana’s notes: in ma feels again (shocker) haven’t written anything in a while so please be nice <3

disclaimers: lil drabble, cliffhanger (you have been warned!) reader is a little insecure, but reader can pull girls and guys, childhood bestfriends my beloved trope 🫶 || main masterlist

“Wait, actually? You don’t think people think you’re pretty?”

You don’t even know how the conversation ended up on this topic. Sitting at the balcony catching up with Trent after you moved away. Now, he’s a big shot footballer and you’re working to get your degree.

Fifteen year old you guys would be proud.

You shook your head, it's not a new thought for you, “Nah, but that’s okay though. I think I’m pretty, but I don’t know if I am someone’s hallway crush or people just look at me and think — Wow, pretty.”

This is the type of stuff that you only spill on your diary, but it’s Trent, and he knows more about you than you do yourself.

It’s not something new you have come to terms with, after seeing most of your friends' getting crushes, getting hit on, going on dates and having relationships except you, you have made peace with it.

Trent’s forehead creases, as if the statement offended him more than you, “That’s crazy, tha’” Trent could not believe what you just said. You? Not pretty? Are you insane?

Turning your head to face him, you warmly smiled, “Don’t pretend, T.” and when you look at Trent, taking in his features, now this is pretty. “You’re pretty. People think you’re pretty.”

You didn’t know why you decided to say that. Maybe because the moonlight illuminates his skin and eyes, making him shine a little bit brighter. Butterflies swarm your belly, as your hand sweats.

Trent’s cheeks went warm, he thinks he’s the luckiest person ever to get compliment from you. His heart aches for you, but he decided to focus on the task at hand first.

"That's stupid." he spat out, making your eyebrows shoot up.

You lightly chuckled, "Excuse you? I just gave you a compliment."

"Not that." he sighed, turning his body around so that it would be face to face with yours. You noticed the disturbed look in his eyes, as you straightened your back before meeting his gaze.

"It's not that serious T, I'm fine." you assured him, an awkward laugh bubbling out. This took a serious turn, and you have no idea why.

"Do you remember James? In 8th grade?"

You furrowed your eyebrows, "The one that gave me chocolate? Yeah, what about him?"

He took a deep breath, "He said, and I quote, that when you laugh, he can honestly melt because you look so pretty.”

"We were kids, sometimes kids just say stuff-"

"And I agreed with him, and I said that making you laugh is probably one of the most rewarding things I can do because I love seeing you smile so much. You look so pretty when you laugh like nobody's around."

Your heart stuttered, but before you said anything else he continued, "And remember the girl that you worked with at the cafe down the road? The one with curly hair?"

You nodded your head.

"When I was waiting for you to finish your shift, she noticed how much I was looking at you, and she said that she gets it, and that it's sometimes hard to focus on making the drinks because you would look so pretty smiling while taking people's orders."

You cleared your throat, “That’s- That’s very nice of her.” avoiding the words that makes you question you and Trent’s friendship.

His tongue pokes out to lick his lips, making your eyes focus on it, “Sometimes I look at you and I go blank because of how pretty you are.”

What the fuck? What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck.

Your eyes searched for his, but he pointedly avoided it, choosing to stare down on his hands.

After finishing the story, Trent bellowed out a laugh, "You know how many people ask me for your number because they think that you're pretty?" he paused, "But they backed away because they 'know' that you're already someone's because of how I look at you."

Your mouth gaped open and close like a fish, slowly processing everything that he's telling you. "What?"

"They said that I look at you like I was smitten. Like I was in love." you were sure your pulse stopped for a second, hearing the guy that you had a crush on for years saying stuff you hear in songs.

Trent’s mouth was faster than his brain, he really should have stopped talking, but he couldn't. All of his words were all vomiting out of his mouth. He could feel his heart beating out of his chest.

"And then I said that if I was going to fall in love with anyone that I'd want it to be you."

hehe love yall <3

[onlybecauseimhappy]

i want an apology for what you did to me

[templetv]

hate hate hate when someone without bpd tells me they understand what I'm going through; as if you wouldn't crucify me if you actually knew what I see and think and feel on a daily basis

[nonranghaes]

"it's just me."

you barely get a chance to roll onto your back before soonyoung's already climbing onto the bed and somewhat on top of you and your blankets, and it's only seconds later that he crashes. it's far from the first time this has happened (soonyoung is clingy and cuddly, especially when he's sleepy), but he manages to knock the wind out of you nonetheless. he rests his head on your chest, and you wiggle an arm out to curl around him as best as you can in your semi-trapped position.

"soonyoung--"

"just go back to sleep," he murmurs. "everything's fine."

you stroke his hair, thumb dipping down to graze his cheek at one point. "soonie--"

"i mean it," he says, eyes peering up in the low light to see yours. "i'm fine. just need to nap." his hand finds yours, and he wraps your arm around him as he snuggles in. he plants a kiss against your chest before resting his head against it again, eyes fluttering shut. "you can rest a little longer, too."

you settle back down after a moment, arms wrapped around soonyoung as you shut your eyes again. sometimes you swear this tiger is a teddy bear, but regardless of which he is, he's yours.

[fruitfordessert]

~⁠♪ Candid thinspø ˖⁠♡

(Requested)