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Sophie Kinsella, Finding Audrey

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Sometimes I think about how Callisto probably hasn’t been touched in any positive way whatsoever since she was a child. How the only physical contact she experiences is in battle, in steel, in blood  ( and maybe sex, on occasion, if the mood strikes, but there is no sense of intimacy in the act—only lust, primal and rough ). No one touches her softly—I doubt she’d know what to do with it if they did, apart from something violent—and she certainly doesn’t seek such contact out herself. 

And well…human contact is generally understood to be a key element in early childhood development, especially. But Callisto is orphaned young with nowhere to go. Everyone she’s ever known died in Cirra. Maybe she lucks out and finds an orphanage or a poor house willing to take her in, but she’d have been one of many at best, and thus probably ignored for the most part. 

So there’s no one to look after her. No one to hug her or comfort her or help her work through the trauma of her village burning. No one to smooth her hair and sing her back to sleep after the night terrors and she’s too little to understand concepts like survivor’s guilt, too young to grapple with something like PTSD on her own. Is it any wonder she turned to rage vengeance to survive? Is it so surprising to think a child would develop an unhealthy obsession with the only person she can blame besides herself? 

And I can’t help but think that maybe, if there’d been someone to love her in the past, Callisto wouldn’t have felt the need to build her whole future around so much hatred. 

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i watched Armageddon Now parts 1 & 2 today and ahahaha fuck 

                   what is th i s

        what do you th i nk y ou ‘re d oing ?

         s  TJOP IT RI GHT NOW IMME D I ATEL Y

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radioactive & gasoline mashup permission to post was given by the artist

do not delete the caption or source.

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rping with adhd

seraphicwrites:

starting a reply and then pausing to check your dash and never returning

and then when you do go back you forget where you were going with the reply

saving all your replies in your drafts to ‘do later’ and never doing them

thinking about saving your drafts and saying you’ll remember it and the not remembering it

writing a sentence and then thinking of something cool to say later on mid-sentence and writing that instead and then never going back to finish your first sentence

30 different tabs open at all times

stopping replying to format posts/themes instead

putting things in your likes to reblog later but never doing it

10 different tags for one type of post

missing out a detail in a reply because you only skimmed it bc you don’t have the attention-span to read a long-ass para

i literally stopped writing this post for about half an hour because i started dash browsing how do i get anything done

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What are we made of but hunger and rage?

Anne Carson,  “To Compostela,” The Anthropology of Water, Plainwater: Essays and Poetry (via lifeinpoetry)

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my mom likes to tell me “you have to pick your battles” well im full of rage and im picking all of them

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“I put a spell on you because you’re mine.”

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She knew how you went about falling in love; she did not know how you went about falling into trust.

Jodi Picoult, Mercy (via simply-quotes)

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remember most of your problems can be easily solved if you set it on fire

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                         the moment you pick up a sword, you become a TARGET.                           the moment you kill, it changes EVERYTHING. 

                                            independent xena. written by frey

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her ribcage is filled with flowers but they are dead, dead, dead.

(morning after) monty iv (via acacoethes)

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*drags my hands down my face*

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             independent | astoria greengrass | selective & private 

    ❝ A work of art is something produced by a person, but is not that person—it is of her, but is not her. It’s a reach, really—the artist is trying to inhabit, temporarily, a more compact, distilled, efficient, wittier, more true-seeing, precise version of herself—one that she can’t replicate in so-called ‘real’ life, no matter how hard she tries. 

     That’s why she paints; to try and briefly be MORE than she truly is. ❞

[ x ]

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person: talk dirty to me ;)

me: im gonna cut through your neck until i feel bone

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Look at us both. Covered in other people’s blood and talking about morality.

Mitchell (Being Human S2 E8)