My Favorite Part About Being Sapphic Is When The Things I Love About Other Women Become Things I Love

Help he looks so cute andjwnfksnfjdn

reblog if you wear glasses. too many mutuals don't know they have glasses wearers in their midsts

My heart imma cry it’s so sweet

Imagine you’re Telemachus.

Go ahead, picture it. You’re a kid growing up on an island where your dad is literally a living legend, but he’s been MIA your entire life. Twenty years of being “the son of Odysseus’’ and having no idea what that even means. Your mother constantly compares you to a guy you’ve never met, the suitors trash your house, eat your food, and openly plan your mom’s wedding like you’re not even there. Your own people think you’re too green, too weak, too not your father to do anything about it. One day, Athena shows up in disguise (because gods love a good mask) and tells you to stop moping around and go find news of your father. So, you set sail with no real plan, no real power, and a whole lot of unresolved resentment. You brave the seas, deal with cryptic kings, and what do you find? Nothing concrete, just more stories about how amazing Odysseus is. And then, just when you’re starting to think you’ve wasted your time, he shows up. But he turns out to be a killing machine, and you’re in the middle of the bloodbath, trying to keep up while the suitors are out for your head. At one point, they literally use you as bait to corner the king. Your father.

The first words you hear him say? Not to you, but to his enemies: “My mercy has long since drowned. It died to bring me home.’’ Imagine, how does that sit with you? You’ve spent your whole life dreaming of this reunion, hoping for a lovely father, a protector, maybe even a friend. Instead, you get this: a stranger soaked in blood, declaring that mercy — the thing you’ve clung to, the thing your mother embodies — has no place in his world.

But then he turns to you.

And suddenly, everything shifts. He looks at you, really looks at you, and says, “Oh my boy, the sweetest joy I’ve known.’’ The walls he’s built, the hardness he’s worn like armor, crack just enough for you to see the man underneath. For the first time, he’s not Odysseus the warrior, or Odysseus, the son of Laertes. He’s your father. He is Odysseus, father of dear Telemachus.

It doesn’t erase the pain, the years of absence, or the violence you just witnessed. But for that moment, it doesn’t matter. Because for the first time in your life, the man who’s been a myth, a memory, and a mystery, is standing in front of you — and he’s calling you his joy.

Ok why was i just thinking huh wait apd sounds kinda accurate i wonder what other factors are ONLY TO HAVE ALL OF THAT YELLOW LEFT LOWER BOX BE TRUE AND CALL ME OUT

What is Auditory Processing?

Mrs Speechie P

they keep adopting strays it’s become a problem

Reblogging for the pun lol

This took me three days and my hand hurts so bad. y'all better reblog it

This grew bigger, just like my dad’s bald spot

the rivalry ever

Pov me getting my girlfriends attention

Ooooo i should do this

"what, does it tickle?"

"stahp saying that-"

"why, can't you still say tickle?"

"sHhhfUCK-"

im fine i promise TwT