Lover Of Taylor Swift❤️❤️

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spitting facts👌👌

There are two basic arguments for shutting the fuck up about cishets at Pride.

First: What if a trans kid asks their parents to show their support by attending Pride with them? What if a lesbian can only attend pride if she gets a ride from someone and the only person willing and able to drive her is her straight brother? What if a bi disabled person can't attend a large outdoor event without hands-on assistance from their straight partner? What if someone just wants to bring their fucking friends? What if, contrary to popular tumblr discourse, most queers don't inhabit perfectly pure social bubbles populated only by other queers? What if it's none of your business?

Second and perhaps more important: If you think you can tell that someone is CIS, let alone HET, by LOOKING at them, you are a cop and an idiot.

Steve's been a sailor for years. He's survived a lot of different "adventures".

Unfortunately, he doesn't know how to survive being left on an Island without any supplies.

He's regretting declining the offer to become a Capitan. If he ever makes it back he's begging for the position.

It's not uncommon for an experienced sailor to join a crew that's brand new for a little to help them out. Steve was happy to do it even.

He just didn't think they would leave him stranded on a island in the middle of the ocean.

Steve didn't know what to do so he just started walking towards the trees.

And he kept walking. For hours, maybe even a day or so.

The sun has left and appeared 3 times so it's been a few days. But he kept walking.

Until he started to hear an alluring melody that felt like it was pulling him towards something.

He kept walking towards it and the louder it got the worst the urge got to find the source.

It was hypnotizing.

Eventually he reached a circle lake that was absolutely beautiful. Crystal clear water, pearls and jewels surrounding the edges, the prettiest rocks he has ever seen.

But sitting on a rock was the source of the sound. A man?

A man with a dark red tail and long black hair. It stopped singing once it saw him.

"You finally made it" the man said, voice as mesmerizing as the song it was singing.

Steve didn't say anything. Just continued to stare.

He made it to what? His death? Is this what he was hallucinating while he died? Out of everything he sees a man with a tail and so many expensive items he could probably buy the whole town Steve was from.

He sat down and leaned against a rock, if he was going to die he was going to die comfortably.

As comfortable as sand can be.

"Not talkative? I thought all humans liked using their voice" it asked sliding into the water and swimming closer, crawling out of the water to try and get closer to him.

It layed on the sand next to Steve just starting at him.

"Do you not have a voice?" It asked.

Steve sighed, "I have a voice but I refuse to talk to someone my imagination made" he closed his eyes.

"You think you can imagine something like me," He can hear the smirk in its voice. "Why do you think I'm fake?" Of course, his mind made someone to make his last moments alive hell.

"Because I've been here for days without food and water in the heat, I'm ovbisouly dying. Now be quiet" Steve spat out, just wanting peace in his last moments.

He seriously hoped Robin won't be to devastated when he doesn't return home.

Suddenly something touched his mouth, he jumped back and opened his eyes. The man was holding a cup filled with water.

"Drink" it commanded.

"I'm not drinking water from a uh whatever you are, it's probably not even clean"

"Its rude to assume the worst, isn't it?"

Steve glared at him.

The man sighed and threw a red apple at him, "at least eat that"

Steve scanned the apple for a moment before deciding it was safe and taking a bite.

"So what will it take for me to convince you that im real and trustworthy?"

Maybe being left on this island wasn't so bad.

I recently had surgery, and at the time I came home, I had both my cat and one of my grandma's cats staying with me.

- Within hours of surgery, I wake up from a nap to my cat gently sniffing at my incisions with great alarm.

- I was not allowed to shower the first day after surgery, and the cats, seeing that The Large Cat is not observing its cleaning ritual, decided I must be gravely disabled and compensated by licking all the exposed skin on my arms, face, and legs.

- I currently have to sleep with a pillow over my abdomen because my cat insists on climbing on top of me and covering my incisions with her body while I sleep (which is very sweet but not exactly comfortable without the pillow). She also lays across me facing my bedroom door, presumably on guard for attackers who may try to harm me while I'm sleeping and injured.

That's love. 🐈‍⬛🐈❤️

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Lol Fr tho

my blog is a safe space for me. the rest of you are in danger i think

I never forget to keep fit 🏋️‍♀️❤️😂

This isn’t a recent picture tho, posting it here so I could save. Self love ❤️

Anything for you my love❤️❤️

I'd do anything for you (in the dark) - Seigfried, Frank Ocean

Nice one✅👌👍

thoughtdump incoming

social media isn't really interesting for me anymore. if i'm gonna be online, i want what i'm doing to actually contribute something to my life and others' lives. inspiration, knowledge, support. and i do get that here, sometimes. i get that on youtube, sometimes. but by god i need to stop scrolling. especially on youtube shorts and tiktok (uninstalled tiktok once again).

but also like. social media feels really lonely now. people like a post, or reblog it. maybe they'll talk in the tags, but people don't often add on in the actual post. there's not many conversations to be had. but i am grateful for the people who do reply or send asks, and we get to talk to a bit. those interactions honestly are why i still come on tumblr sometimes.

it's good to know i can help people, and that people see me and support me as well. guess i just want to lean into that more.