philleegirl

[philleegirl]

I am in desperate need of a massage. My body is literally passed all the spoons and forks it has but I am just having to keep going for at least the rest of this week. I need to lay on a massage table and glow, cause yeah that is what it feels like my body does.

“I’ve been a massage therapist for many years, now. I know what people look like. People have been undressing for me for a long time. I know what you look like: a glance at you, and I can picture pretty well what you’d look like on my table. Let’s start here with what nobody looks like: nobody looks like the people in magazines or movies. Not even models. Nobody. Lean people have a kind of rawboned, unfinished look about them that is very appealing. But they don’t have plump round breasts and plump round asses. You have plump round breasts and a plump round ass, you have a plump round belly and plump round thighs as well. That’s how it works. And that’s very appealing too. Woman have cellulite. All of them. It’s dimply and cute. It’s not a defect. It’s not a health problem. It’s the natural consequence of not consisting of photoshopped pixels, and not having emerged from an airbrush. Men have silly buttocks. Well, if most of your clients are women, anyway. You come to male buttocks and you say – what, this is it? They’re kind of scrawny and the tissue is jumpy because it’s unpadded; you have to dial back the pressure, or they’ll yelp. Adults sag. It doesn’t matter how fit they are. Every decade, an adult sags a little more. All of the tissue hangs a little looser. They wrinkle, too. I don’t know who put about the rumor that just old people wrinkle. You start wrinkling when you start sagging, as soon as you’re all grown up, and the process goes its merry way as long as you live. Which is hopefully a long, long time, right? Everybody on a massage table is beautiful. There are really no exceptions to this rule. At that first long sigh, at that first thought that “I can stop hanging on now, I’m safe” – a luminosity, a glow, begins. Within a few minutes the whole body is radiant with it. It suffuses the room: it suffuses the massage therapist too. People talk about massage therapists being caretakers, and I suppose we are: we like to look after people, and we’re easily moved to tenderness. But to let you in on a secret: I’m in it for the glow. I’ll tell you what people look like, really: they look like flames. Or like the stars, on a clear night in the wilderness.”

— What People Really Look Like

[philleegirl]

My mama is likely actively dying. This is a hard and painful thing to admit and harder and more painful to live through. The thing that made me add to this post is that mostly she does not know me but she recognizes others in me.

So some moments

I am my grandmother, since it is her face that was gifted to me.

I am my aunt, since she was the chubbier sister.

I am my father, since my gray has started to come in where his did.

I am my best friend, since we use slang in the same way.

I am a character from a show, since I picked up a stupid turn of phrase.

I am an old friend of hers, since I call her baby (a doll she has since was 5 and now thinks is me) a certain nickname.

I am me, since I call her Mama and touch her cheek a certain way.

So even though I am alone, she is with all her loved ones at her end.

The legacies people leave behind in you.

My handwriting is the same style as the teacher’s who I had when I was nine. I’m now twenty one and he’s been dead eight years but my i’s still curve the same way as his.

I watched the last season of a TV show recently but I started it with my friend in high school. We haven’t spoken in four years.

I make lentil soup through the recipe my gran gave me.

I curl my hair the way my best friend showed me.

I learned to love books because my father loved them first.

How terrifying, how excruciatingly painful to acknowledge this. That I am a jigsaw puzzle of everyone I have briefly known and loved. I carry them on with me even if I don’t know it. How beautiful.

[philleegirl]

I’ve officially decided my favorite relationship trope is “at first I was perpetually bothered by your mere existence but somewhere along the way you became my best friend and oh yeah I’m also in love with you.” Nothing else matters.

[philleegirl]

Reblog for a larger sample size!

No "show results", if you're not a fanfic writer just be patient.

I saw a post about an anon saying it was embarrasing to have an ao3 account in your 30s (it's absolutely not), so I want to do a poll and see what the age range actually is.

[philleegirl]

I decided I should be an adult and actually check my email before bed. Well imagine my surprise when I got to my "fun" account and my darling @desperately-human absolutely made my entire year. Seriously I love these comments cause I know what energy they put into them when they could have just left a kudo.

I love you so much!! Thank you so much for your friendship and your everything! 💓

Look at these beauties!

[philleegirl]

@ fic authors what do you personally consider a successful fic? What’s the bar?

[philleegirl]

Put your year and your first fandom in the tags!

[philleegirl]

Reblog to open a rail line from your blog to the person you reblogged this from

[philleegirl]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Ted Lasso (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Roy Kent/Jamie Tartt Characters: Roy Kent, Jamie Tartt Additional Tags: Fluff, Established Relationship, Post-Canon, Because Brett broke a corner of the internet Summary:

On a sleepy night at home, Roy makes a mistake that changes things at least temporarily.

[philleegirl]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Ted Lasso (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Roy Kent/Jamie Tartt Characters: Roy Kent, Jamie Tartt Additional Tags: Anal Sex, Anal Play, Anal Plug, Past Sexual Assault, no graphic details, Talking During Sex, I mean a lot of talking during sex, First Time, Roy Kent is a good coach even in bed, Jamie Tartt listens to his coach even in bed, lots of swearing, Smut, Fluff and Smut, and just a pinch of angst, Idiots in Love Summary:

Whatever they were doing had been happening since Jamie had gotten home from Brazil. After a mere week apart, Roy and Jamie had been so excited to see each other again that their welcome home bro hug had somehow turned into a make out session and mutual handjob on Roy’s couch. In the weeks since they had continued along a similar routine, but not yet progressed passed hand and blow jobs. The night before Roy had tried to take them further but Jamie had frozen and panicked. Finally Jamie admitted that he assumed that he would be the one being fucked and he didn't think that he could. Roy had assured Jamie, with words as well as long slow kisses, that while yes he would love to one day fuck Jamie's gorgeous ass, Roy was more than happy to be fucked by Jamie Fucking Tartt.

[philleegirl]

Reblog if you’re over 20 and still read/write fan fiction.

I’m curious!

[philleegirl]

@desperately-human wait! Did we know this? We have talked about this movie in-depth but I don't remember this.

it's crazy that both the actors who played the killers in Rope were like, actually gay/bi. so funny that somehow Hitchcock seemed more comfortable w casting gay people in a subtextually gay film than most modern directors are with casting gay people as overtly gay characters.

[philleegirl]

🍯🎄☃️

[philleegirl]

“I hope this email finds you well”

First of all the only emails that ever find me well are from AO3