*dumps entire bottle of foundation on face*
I’m gonna start wearing makeup in my fucking sleep.
dear god, let it be enough
About seven years ago, all my friends my age got married. And about three years after that, they all started having babies, which set into motion the idea that eventually they’re gonna have to talk about sex to their kids. And that just freaks me out. I have cats—they were broken, but now they’re fixed—so I don’t have to worry about this. However, if I had the opportunity to suddenly be confronted by my son as a young man asking me for advice about sex… with girls… this is what I would say.
One: Buy condoms. Buy them and keep them with you at all times, and use them before you are asked to use them. And use them every time. The peace of mind you allow your partner will free her to be vulnerable with you, and that, my son, is exactly what sex is about. Condoms are sexy. In fact, call buying condoms foreplay. (Footnote: If you are too embarrassed to buy condoms, you are not ready to have sex.)
Two: Kissing is not merely foreplay. Spend entire evenings making out on the couch while fully clothed. Believe me, dry-humping rocks.
Three: Sex is not just about friction. It’s about emotion. Stop trying to find her clitoris and find her heart. Because then she’ll help you find her clitoris.
Four: If you really wanna know how to please a woman, ask her how she masturbates. Then do that. A lot. If she claims she doesn’t masturbate, offer to take her shopping for a vibrator so you can both learn the vocabulary of her body together.
Five: Don’t put anything in her butthole you wouldn’t want in your own. (Footnote: Try a pinky finger, it’s kinda awesome.)
Six: When you go down on her—and you will go down on her, and if you are my son, you will be amazing at it—tell her how good she tastes. Stop in the middle and kiss her deeply so she knows how good she tastes. Do the same when she goes down on you.
Seven: A simple Google search will yield 1,327 euphemisms for male masturbation, yet only 23 for female masturbation. If guys spent less time jacking off and more time jilling off, this world would be a happier place.
Eight: Everything you need to know about the importance of the clitoris is in the movie Star Wars. You are Luke Skywalker piloting your penis-shaped X-Wing Fighter deep inside her trench. Remember: seventy percent of all Death Stars cannot be blown up through penetration of the trench alone. It must be through focused contact with that little exhaust port at the top of the trench. Otherwise, any explosions you experience will be merely Hollywood special effects.
Nine: Just because you come doesn’t mean she has, so don’t you dare come before her. Focus completely on your partner. Don’t worry about gettin’ yours, you’re a guy. You always get yours. Your job is to make sure she’s gettin’ hers.
Ten: If sex with your partner lasts no longer than this poem, you are not making love. You are masturbating with her body instead of your hand. Shame on you. Go back to step one. You’ve got a lot of learning to do.
This guy’s writing is fantastic. And also OMG STAR WARS.
Holy shit this is literally all you need to know.
Sex is not a goddamn performance.
Sex should feel as natural as drinking water.
It should not require confidence.
Sex should happen, because the moment is ripe.
Ripening lips, ripening labia, ripening cock, ripening pupils, ripening state of being. Ripe and augmented and brimming. Your energy goes to your pumping heart, then to every external nerve, then to theirs, on fire.
You bask, roll, play in it. You sigh, moan, laugh.
It’s not about being “good in bed.”
It’s about being happy.
One should never worry if they’re doing it “correctly.” Sex is not factual. I don’t want your cookie-cutter sex, I don’t want your meticulously crafted, calculated, fool-proof fuck. I don’t want a show. I want you. Let your instincts, urges and whims define that. It’s enough.
What do most girls like? Forget about it. Statistics are meaningless when there’s only one. Hello, here’s me. Here’s you.
Don’t worry about taking it too slow. We got time. We got infinite rhythms, combinations, possibilities. Explore each fuck. Take our time. We can do a different one later.
Don’t worry about making me come. I’m here. Right where I want to be.
I am overwhelmed by wanting; you don’t have to convince me. I want you because I like you. So don’t put on a front. Don’t taint this.
I’m frustrated—it’s just authenticity I want.
Don’t say that something I like is ugly. Don’t compare yourself to the rest. You will live and die with and within your experiences like everyone else. If someone thinks you are amazing, they are not wrong. Their universe is as real as any other; it is forged through perception.
I don’t care if you accidentally slammed my head into the wall, if you slipped out, if my arm cracked, if the delightful pressure of your wet lips on my anything made a silly sound. There is no right way and no wrong way.
“Good in bed,” what.
You’re good in my bed. I’m pleased you’re there. I feel it suits you.
Shove your technique. Let your memory swallow it. Fuck me like you’d fuck me, fuck me like you feel.
This isn’t a test.
Sometimes Kon takes Tim for a flight above the clouds. And the comfort of laying on Kon’s chest with the sun on his back lulls Tim to sleep because he feels absolutely safe with Kon holding him. Kon enjoys watching Tim sleep and understands that Tim would only do this with him because of the trust they share and that makes him insanely happy.
Ahh thank you dasher for such an amazing headcanon ;U;
oh god Bucket this is perfect.
The tangle of their legs. That is exactly how I had pictured them. And Tim just all cuddled up and peaceful in his sleep. This entire picture is just what I had in mind. Thank you. I seriously can’t stop looking at their legs though..
OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD
‘THE TALES OF A FANGIRL’
(to the tune of ‘Colours of the Wind’ from Pocahontas)
You think I’m a fangirling savage
I “obsess over too much”
Well, I guess you can think so.
But what you cannot see,
Is that there just seems to be
Such underlying subtext you don’t know
You don’t know
You think you know whatever thing you’re watching
You think you know the things in books you read
But I know every ship and every hint now
All the heated, subtle, sly and sexual needs.
You watch and read but to you, truly sadly,
The ships are all as canon as they go,
But if you walk the footsteps of a fangirl
You’ll understand that nothing’s ever hetero.
Have you ever seen the eye sex between Dean and Cas
Or the way that Arthur looks at his “best friend”
Can you hear the subtext like it has been scripted
But the writers lie and say it’s all pretend?
But the writers lie and say it’s in our heads….
Come here and watch this scene with John and Sherlock
How do you not see that he wants him so?
The Master and the Doctor bum each other
Is that not clear to you? How can you say “no”?
The fandoms I belong to are my family
The actors (who don’t know it) are my friends
The characters all connect to each other
In some homosexual loop that never ends
How headcanon will my ships go?
Honestly I will never know
And though we’ll never hear the end of “my ship’s best”
It matters not what ship we ship, you see
No one can ever deny Destiel or Merthur
Or Johnlock or the Master and Ten
Now you say I must be wrong
But others agree with my song
As we ship
All of the homo
Till the end
CHLOE ITS SO PERFECT
AND YOUR VOICE IS AMAZING
IH:BSDKJ CANONOT TNOTGFSDPKl
Oh god this needs to be like my theme song. Gpoy to the max. Especially the “Come here and watch this scene with John and Sherlock.” Because I’ve done that. Multiple times. While saying those words exactly.
Awww yissssssssss it’s being reblogged again
You’ll understand that nothing’s ever hetero.
YOU ARE FLAWLESS. HONOR ON YOU 100000000 TIMES OVER.
AND YOU HAVE A GOOD VOICE.