ivyindreamland

[ivyindreamland]

Helly R. - Bullet With Butterfly Wings (short version) [Watch on YouTube]

Despite all my rage, I am still just a rat in a cage

severance filled me with the powerful urge to learn video editing so behold my first (short) fan video! may make a not-quite-full-but-longer-than-this version in the future!!

[ivyindreamland]

[ivyindreamland]

me, every single time i see people (especially women) talking about the divine feminine energy, or the sacredness of the womb or whatever it is now:

[image description: a two-panel photo of a person dialling a number and then placing the phone to their ear. the contact is saved as ‘Ursula K. Le Guin’ /end ID]

context is this quote by her:

But I didn’t and still don’t like making a cult of women’s knowledge, preening ourselves on knowing things men don’t know, women’s deep irrational wisdom, women’s instinctive knowledge of Nature, and so on. All that all too often merely reinforces the masculinist idea of women as primitive and inferior – women’s knowledge as elementary, primitive, always down below at the dark roots, while men get to cultivate and own the flowers and crops that come up into the light. But why should women keep talking baby talk while men get to grow up? Why should women feel blindly while men get to think?

[ivyindreamland]

the men on r/malelivingspace yearn to become homosexuals

[ivyindreamland]

Following along with this trend, spin this wheel for a Taylor Swift song

[ivyindreamland]

chuckling indulgently.. oh go on... i suppose a LITTLE bit of monica in my life wouldn't hurt

[ivyindreamland]

no girl i love your fucking evil boyfriend who looks like a worm . truly !

[ivyindreamland]

[ivyindreamland]

Where the Armour Ends

Everything was fine until the 2016 elections.

Chapter 1: Mansion With a View [AO3]

"Oh, there's your brother in law." Dorothea angles the remote at my screen like she's got half a mind to throw it. "Looks like shit." "Uh, yeah," she agrees, opting to drop it onto the carpet instead. She lowers onto her elbow then climbs back on top of me again. "Who's he wearing?" "Nobody," I snort as her stubby fingers brush my cheek. Dorothea raises her eyebrows at me and I shrug against the pillows. His wife is in Carolina Herrera, like I give any fucks about men's suits if I don't have to stand beside them. Getting it into my contract that neither I nor Sam could be made to look like Republicans was already a bitch and a half and I had to borrow Dorothea's lawyers: the less I have to think about James, the better.

This is obviously fiction, but it is based on Taylor and Karlie's relationship circa 2016 onward with some... uh, twists. Actually, everyone is OOC. The story is offensive so if you're especially vulnerable don't read it. The characters are portrayed as misogynistic, homophobic, bitchy, and manipulative. I don't endorse the actions or opinions of the characters.

[ivyindreamland]

i don't think i could ever forget you clara, i don't think you're ever going to have to

happy valentine's day, colette 💗

[ivyindreamland]

x, x, x, x

[ivyindreamland]

magazines are making her cray again

If she weren't such an attention whore Dorothea would've made her career on usurping Banksy. Quaint little stunts are her obsession, and how the press can still report on her renewed commitment to keeping her private life private while also doling out “juicy, exclusive revelations” from the Club Confidential meetings she hosts for fans in her literal house is an irony I'll never understand. Club Confidential is a new Dorothea tradition; she plays them the album and tells them the true stories behind the songs, and the fans go home thinking a multimillionaire trusts them with her precious secrets. It's brilliant in a prostitute kind of way. I'm at LAX flanked by my sisters and waving politely but curtly to the paparazzi. You never want to seem like you like their presence – that's slutty – but you also don't want to go too far with the annoyance. They're vindictive little shits. Kourtney is trying to whisper something to me as if I can hear her over all the shutters clicking. My sisters are my best friends the way a clingy, asthmatic pug is man's best friend. “Have you met Dorothea Rose's ‘angel boyfriend,’ Khloe?” a paparazzo shouts firstname lastname at me as if there's another Dorothea. My eyes are not rolling because I am a beacon of grace and self-control.

Where the Armour Ends

Everything was fine until the 2016 elections.

Chapter 1: Mansion With a View [AO3]

"Oh, there's your brother in law." Dorothea angles the remote at my screen like she's got half a mind to throw it. "Looks like shit." "Uh, yeah," she agrees, opting to drop it onto the carpet instead. She lowers onto her elbow then climbs back on top of me again. "Who's he wearing?" "Nobody," I snort as her stubby fingers brush my cheek. Dorothea raises her eyebrows at me and I shrug against the pillows. His wife is in Carolina Herrera, like I give any fucks about men's suits if I don't have to stand beside them. Getting it into my contract that neither I nor Sam could be made to look like Republicans was already a bitch and a half and I had to borrow Dorothea's lawyers: the less I have to think about James, the better.

This is obviously fiction, but it is based on Taylor and Karlie's relationship circa 2016 onward with some... uh, twists. Actually, everyone is OOC. The story is offensive so if you're especially vulnerable don't read it. The characters are portrayed as misogynistic, homophobic, bitchy, and manipulative. I don't endorse the actions or opinions of the characters.

[ivyindreamland]

Where the Armour Ends

Everything was fine until the 2016 elections.

Chapter 5: Most Fun I Ever Had [AO3]

If she weren't such an attention whore Dorothea would've made her career on usurping Banksy. Quaint little stunts are her obsession, and how the press can still report on her renewed commitment to keeping her private life private while also doling out “juicy, exclusive revelations” from the Club Confidential meetings she hosts for fans in her literal house is an irony I'll never understand. Club Confidential is a new Dorothea tradition; she plays them the album and tells them the true stories behind the songs, and the fans go home thinking a multimillionaire trusts them with her precious secrets. It's brilliant in a prostitute kind of way. I'm at LAX flanked by my sisters and waving politely but curtly to the paparazzi. You never want to seem like you like their presence – that's slutty – but you also don't want to go too far with the annoyance. They're vindictive little shits. Kourtney is trying to whisper something to me as if I can hear her over all the shutters clicking. My sisters are my best friends the way a clingy, asthmatic pug is man's best friend. “Have you met Dorothea Rose's ‘angel boyfriend,’ Khloe?” a paparazzo shouts firstname lastname at me as if there's another Dorothea. My eyes are not rolling because I am a beacon of grace and self-control.

[ivyindreamland]

SHE was a punk. HE did ballet. #woke #truelove

[ivyindreamland]

take this quiz to find out why taylor swift would break up with you