The worst part about tumblr for me is that you absolutely cannot escape a popular blogger, even if you block them. The most you can do is blacklist their username, but you're still gonna see it all the time.

Doesn't matter bogleech once told me I deserve to be murdered because I don't think lolisho is comparable to the literal CSA I experienced; I still have to see them everywhere 🙃🙃🙃

you finally confess your attraction to the hot priest and he's like "oh darling, I thought you'd never ask" and proceeds to bite your neck and turn you into another catholic priest

I have to tell you about the Abuela on my street.

She is nearly 70 years old, with wonderfully brown gnarled, wrinkled hands and eyes that are creased from smiling. She hand-makes all of her own clothes and sews dolls for my little sister. Abuela is very lonely… her husband already passed and her kids live far away. She misses her grandkids. Abuela comes around our place for the company almost every other day.

So this morning, my little sister and I went to visit the Abuela to return the kindness of her vegetables with some homemade soup.

It’s a funny joke we have, that if you can make a perfect posole you are wife material. I was joking around with my friend beforehand to see if I was worthy of marriage, and my little sister thinks me failing is the best thing in life, so of course she wants to ask Abuela when we arrive.

We’re wearing masks and gloves and can’t give her the big hug like we want to, but Abuela is always happy to see us. We bring the pot of soup to her table. My little sis, the little shit that she is, immediately asks, “Abuela, is Reina ready to be a wife yet?”

And Abuela immediately shifts her entire mood. Her face literally becomes this:

Abuela’s look pierces through my heart.

“Who are you trying to impress? A man or a woman?” she asks, deadly serious. We have broached the topic of marriage. It is her domain now.

And I, Rei, gay as the fourth of July, cannot believe that either Abuela clocked me instantly or that she could possibly have a fascinating past of her own. 

I thought about lying, but my little sister was there and I don’t like to lie in front of her. So I was honest and said I was trying to impress a woman.

Without a response, Abuela carefully tries the posole. The room is silent.

“For a man, it’s good,” she says after a moment. “But, you’ll need to work harder to impress a woman.”

All I can do is politely nod. I have so many questions.

Now Abuela is tired. She wants to eat and relax in peace, so she waves us away. We make sure she’s settled, and then my sister and I go home.

I can’t believe my 70 year old Abuela said BI RIGHTS