Like I Know The Original Post Is Unserious And Love Languages Are Not Real But I Made The Mistake Of

like I know the original post is unserious and love languages are Not Real but I made the mistake of thinking about ogata hunting and now it's all over for me

post cancelled what did tumblr mean by this

it was this night, at 2 am on a tuesday, that my medication not working as intended allowed me to watch some 50-odd installments of skibidi toilet back-to-back before it got too flashy for me to tolerate. now i can confidently say i don't get the confusion. it's a feat of visual storytelling and sound design. it broke this stupid planet because it's just that good. every one of those 5 mil likes on each episode is deserved. i haven't felt this engrossed in a fight scene ever since i've watched mob psycho. the next generation will be alright they know their shit

IDGAF if the women in my fiction are empowering or aspirational, I'm an adult, I don't need role models, I want the women in my fiction to be interesting, and if that involves being pathetic, hypocritical, amoral, or trapped in a delightfully dysfunctional relationship so be it

photo study

through depletion | on ao3

vacant, nigh out of words. i'll spend them sparingly. nigh out of ink, out of subtlety. my unwieldy arms won't raise to chisel the yellowed ache. have it as-is, an eyesore. have it blackened, have it unplated, swathed in rhymes of the lower tier — i've ransacked and medicated the gardens and troves of my thought into poverty. make no mistake, i don't kid myself: this won't be the last thing i feel. still, lately i wonder what will.