I was waiting for the night bus at 1am the other night, eating fries, when a dude, high as fuck, tried to harass me. It took several “I don’t want to talk to you, please go away” for him to finally move, but I think it helped that another man was giving him the death stare and clicking his tongue at him. He then checked I was okay and whether I knew the guy or not. Good dude.
Shout out also the man who silently switched places with me on another night bus to be a buffer between me and a guy who had threatened me. Thank you
Men: this here? This here is what you need to be doing as allies. The men who harass and insult women are not likely to take our complaints about it seriously. But you, another man, they will listen to.
I was pumping gas at like 10 PM one night, and these bunch of drunk guys came walking up to the gas station, and one of them yelled over to me if I wanted to see his dick. His friend says to him, “You don’t have anything she wants to see.” and apologized. It was pretty awesome.
this is all we want from men. to recognize the wrongs done by other men, and acknowledge it. not give us shitass defense like, “not all men do that”
We need a name for the shock-trauma that comes from reading a long fic, chapter after chapter, barely pausing to eat let alone pay attention to what chapter you’re on, and then scrolling down to click a button that isn’t there. There needs to be a word for the way all of the emotions you’ve been carrying that were hurtling forward with you as you read non stop, suddenly crash into a wall around you. There needs to be a word for the way you’re abruptly unbalanced and lost. There needs to be a word for how you futilely attempt to refresh the page, even though you know the next chapter won’t appear.
Took a nap and had a dream that I’d gotten a hyperrealistic tattoo of a Band Aid, just so that I could cover it with a real Band Aid.
When people would ask what happened, I’d say, “It’s kind of weird. Are you sure you wanna’ see?” and then I’d dramatically rip the Band Aid off to reveal my tattoo of a Band Aid.
You befriend the one goth kid at your school; after a bit of bonding and sleepovers, you find out he’s actually a 300,000 year old lich king who kind of gave up on the whole undead necromancer business.
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