Happy pride :)
tfw you realize the guy who keeps kidnapping you and using you as bait to catch his arch nemesis is actually just a theater kid who’s really nice
god im going to be fucking hallucinating this video for months ok there’s just so much to this to break down
- the initial fact they’re talking through a hand puppet with the oobi eyes
- the horrible, horrible desynch between their words and the movements of the hand
- lack of any clear place the hand is looking
- “dwells in the depths”. just the whole sentence itself and the weird inflection on it.
- the fact that the dude clearly already discovered this thing and was so moved by it they went to record it
- “wuoah”, and the split second of open-palmed hand that no longer resembles a puppet
- the weird fade in on the music and the fact it sounds a little distorted at first
- the very specific but undefinable emotion conveyed by the music
- the inconsistent zoom
alternate title: young children gawk at flaming homosexuals
Another alternate title: the bailey school kids need to mind their own damn business
the covers with women are equally gay
so basically having these obnoxious kids pry into your personal life is mlm/wlw solidarity
So am i the only one thinkinf the ghoul looks cute asf or
Seriously…every cover is like this
you either die a bailey school kid or you live long enough to see yourself become the gay cryptid.
Also in case anyone wants to know the best part of the books, it’s that whatever creature they are on the cover is 100% revealed to be a truth by the end.
In other news is the camp counselor single? asking for a me
hmm
The cum tanks by e-girl street. Yeah you can't miss them.
Oh look, it’s entirely possible for a cisgender comedian to crack jokes about transgender people without being transphobic.
before: GOD DAMN MOTHERFUCK PIECE OF SHIT
after: hello mommy 🥺 could you pretty please help me with this 🥺 it’s me your baby boy
just because an ant wont die from falling off a building doesnt mean he wont be crying and screaming the whole way down
i just think itd be funny if kittypets were a little more familiar to twoleg things such as: cars and bad words
I haven’t reblogged something related to Warrior cats since like 2012 but this is fucking hilarious
one of the more valuable things I’ve learned in life as a survivor of a mentally unstable parent is that it is likely that no one has thought through it as much as you have.
no, your friend probably has not noticed they cut you off four times in this conversation.
no, your brother didn’t realize his music was that loud while you were studying.
no, your bff or S.O. doesn’t remember that you’re on a tight deadline right now.
no, no one else is paying attention to the four power dynamics at play in your friend group right now.
a habit of abused kids, especially kids with unstable parents, is the tendency to notice every little detail. We magnify small nuances into major things, largely because small nuances quickly became breaking points for parents. Managing moods, reading the room, perceiving danger in the order of words, the shift of body weight….it’s all a natural outgrowth of trying to manage unstable parents from a young age.
Here’s the thing: most people don’t do that. I’m not saying everyone else is oblivious, I’m saying the over analysis of minor nuances is a habit of abuse.
I have a rule: I do not respond to subtext. This includes guilt tripping, silent treatments, passive aggressive behavior, etc. I see it. I notice it. I even sometimes have to analyze it and take a deep breath and CHOOSE not to respond. Because whether it’s really there or just me over-reading things that actually don’t mean anything, the habit of lending credence to the part of me that sees danger in the wrong shift of body weight…that’s toxic for me. And dangerous to my relationships.
The best thing I ever did for myself and my relationships was insist upon frank communication and a categorical denial of subtext. For some people this is a moral stance. For survivors of mentally unstable parents this is a requirement of recovery.



















