☆ﾐ(o*･ω･)ﾉ Asexuals can appreciate good looking people
☆ﾐ(o*･ω･)ﾉ Asexuals are not necessarily sexually repressed or sex-repulsed
☆ﾐ(o*･ω･)ﾉ Asexuals can fall in love and enter relationships
☆ﾐ(o*･ω･)ﾉ Asexuals can have functioning libidos without being sexually attracted to people
☆ﾐ(o*･ω･)ﾉ Asexuality is not necessarily the result of sexual abuse
FLY BENEDICT FLYYYYYYYYYYYYY
this fandom is on drugs.
no actually, I’m just naturally ridiculous and have photoshop and free time
and batshit crazy but I love you for it.
Sexuality is fluid.
Don’t get pissy because a lesbian ends up dating a male. Don’t get mad because your gay male best friend found a female and dates her. Don’t get mad because your straight male friend dates a dude or a straight female dates another female.
Love is love. Just because you classify as something does not mean in the next 30 years you wont find someone that is not in your range of what you like.
And stop fucking bashing on bisexuals just because they wont “choose” they don’t want to limit themselves and that shouldn’t be a fucking problem.
"I said many ignorant people nowadays thought ‘Frankenstein’ was the name of the monster, and not of the scientist who created him.
[Mary Shelley] said, ‘That’s not so ignorant after all. There are two monsters in my story, not one. And one of them, the scientist, is indeed named Frankenstein."
Kurt Vonnegut, “God Bless You, Dr. Kevorkian” (via alighthouseofwords)
I wish we said “fancy” in America. As in, “I fancy you.” It’s such a more agreeable term than “I have a crush on you.” What’s a crush? Like, I AM A BOA CONSTRICTOR AND I AM GOING TO IMMOBILIZE YOU WITH MY MISPLACED AND OBSESSIVE AFFECTION. “I fancy you” is like, you’re so shiny and glittery and I just want to put you on a shelf and look at you for a while ‘cause you’re fancy.
in australia we just exchange boomerangs
i know this is dumb but i think that australia exists like?? the ocean is largely unexplored there could very well be a fallen empire and we havent found it yet
I MEANT ATLANTIS YOU ASSHOLES
I say, ‘I am fat.’
He says ‘No, you are beautiful.’
I wonder why I cannot be both.
He kisses me
My college theater professor once told me
that despite my talent,
I would never be cast as a romantic lead.
We do plays that involve singing animals
and children with the ability to fly,
but apparently no one
has enough willing suspension of disbelief
to go with anyone loving a fat girl.
I daydream regularly
about fucking my boyfriend vigorously on his front lawn.
On the mornings I do not feel pretty,
while he is still asleep,
I sit on the floor and check the pockets of his skinny jeans for motive,
for a punchline,
for other girls’ phone numbers.
When we hold hands in public,
I wonder if he notices the looks —
like he is handling a parade balloon on a crowded sidewalk;
if he notices that my hands are now made of rope.
Dear Cosmo: Fuck you.
I will not take sex tips from you
on how to please a man you think I do not deserve.
He tells me he loves me with the lights on.
I can cup his hip bone in my hand,
feel his ribs without pressing very hard at all.
He does not believe me when I tell him he is beautiful.
Sometimes I fear the day he does will be the day he leaves.
The cute hipster girl at the coffee shop
assumes we are just friends
and flirts over the counter.
I spend the next two weeks
mentally replacing myself with her
in all of our photographs.
When I admit this to him
we spend the evening taking new photos together.
He will not let me delete a single one of them.
The phrase “Big girls need love too” can die in a fire.
Fucking me does not require an asterisk.
Loving me is not a fetish.
Finding me beautiful is not a novelty.
I am not a fucking novelty.
I say, ‘I am fat.’
He says, ‘No. You are so much more’,
and kisses me
Rachel Wiley (via iggysodapop)
and then romeo-kun and juliet-chan inevitably committed the seppuku
sugoi. what light through the window comes, desu?
it is the east, and my waifu is the sun.
did my kokoro doki till now? forswear it, sight!
for i ne’er saw true kawaii till this night.