I hate when people mention someone in their life by their name without providing me with any context about who this person is.
“So Dylan and I went to yoga class yesterday — ”
Hold it right there. Who the fuck is Dylan. Your boyfriend? Your arch nemesis? Your brother? Your pet sea monkey? Your therapist? Your favourite fictional character? Are you on a first-name basis with your dad? Last-name basis with Bob? WHO THE FUCK IS DYLAN.
we were in the middle of a full dress rehearsal today, music all intense and blaring, and suddenly everything stops and there’s a moment of silence before the director yells “WHOSE. BAGEL. IS ON. THE STAGE.”
what im saying is that bisexuals, pansexual, and asexuals should all join together so we can be in the fictitious trifecta. enough people will say we’re not real and we’ll all converge together in a massive, fierce mass only spoken of in myth. dont come near us or you too will cease to exist
can we include aromantics?
triforce of fabulousness
There we go, a shield to protect against the negativity