#SO PERSONAL

[dreadfutures]

here is where i shock all of my followers.

i have to get this off my chest.

i don't find solas attractive and never really have

I love him! I love him so much! I have written OVER. A MILLION. WORDS. about him.

but Ixchel Lavellan finds him so attractive her mouth waters.

He is not my type. I find him beautiful design wise but I am not in the lust party x)

i will continue to draw him and love him and write him and adore him and reblog beautiful gifsets and hi-res Thigh Thirst and all but I HAD TO GET THIS OFF MY CHEST

[senseiwu]

Every time the crystalised discussion on twitter comes back and they get to Lloyd's issues with his father i want to freaking rip my hair out

"Lloyd's in the wrong" "Lloyd was an ass" (<something I literally just saw)

God forbid a child hurt by their parent BE HURT. BE UPSET.

[laurelwen]

Guess which Tom Sturridge film each of these Letterboxd reviews is about.

Part 4 / 6: Life Changing, I Guess? Part 3 / 6: Serving Cunt Part 2 / 6: Delicious Damage Part 1 / 6: "What Have I Done?"

[yourhandsonmine]

Its been quite a time, glad to say i havwnt given up and im doong bettr, still in the limbo tho’ #2024

[spadesofspader]

princess diana

[stabbyapologist]

But don't catch feelings because there's no romance option in Hogwarts Legacy.

The way he looks at MC is fanfic fuel alone!

[malicious-compliance-esq]

Thanks to @goldfishgrahamcracker for tagging me in this game about favorite movies!

List 10 of your favorite movies. Then tag others whose choices you'd like to see.

I am monstrously terrible at making ranked lists! It's not the way my brain works and I really struggle with picking "favorites" when that feels like comparing apples to oranges.

I started writing up a list of movies that are special to me and it wound up 3x as long as the set of 10 stipulated by the game. So I gave myself a cutpoint of "favorite movies since 2000" and wound up with a more manageable list of the first ones that came to mind. Here it is! Films organized in order of release.

Quills (2000)

The Rules of Attraction (2001)

Secretary (2002)

Mean Girls (2004)

Casino Royale (2006)

American Gangster (2007)

The Dark Knight (2008)

Cloudburst (2011)

Hot Guys with Guns (2013)

King Lear (2018)

Tagging @sleepingfancies and @puddinginthemix if y'all feel inclined to jump in on this!

[nothing-goldstays]

The uterus is gone! No more periods! No more cramps! No more bleeding through everything! I am so excited for these life improvements!

[lhrry]

Because people are annoying and think everything Louis writes about has to be an exact personal experience and that the only time he's ever been to Chicago is when we saw him there with Danielle. Is Chicago even a place, is Chicago even a person? Sorry I just get so annoyed when people make assumptions and ruin a song for me before it even comes out

i luckily only saw people having fun with it and it's likely that Chicago is really going to provoke that association, but that being said I agree that Louis as well as Harry's music is often reduced to the constraints of the autobiographical and literal, not only by the gp but also by us and although both undeniably write from experience, their writing is likely far more imaginative than people admit - one of the fun aspects of dramatising or repainting reality, taking one strand of your reality and weaving it into a whole new world you made up, strewing the abstract with the concrete, taking one feeling connected with a place and turning it into a story of someone else, telling stories that resonate with people, living through the eyes of others and not just your own because if you limit yourself to your own perspective you're never going to touch people profusely. if art were only literal and autobiographical it would be so boring

[peggy-sue-reads-a-book]

Paper Cranes

TW: homophobia, bullying, church abuse, swearing, assault, ED, SH, compulsive exercising, Republicans, purity culture, evangelical crap, but most of all middle school. If I’ve failed to include anything, just let me know. Fr I wrote it for me and posted it for those who might find my experience affirming. I’m all good if you need to scroll right on past a trauma post.

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The first time I ever watched homophobic bullying was in my pastor’s office. All the teens were waiting around a table for our youth pastor. There was one gay boy, a close friend of mine in a relatively small group. From the first week his family joined our church, an older girl in youth group announced to the rest of us that she couldn’t stand him because “he’s too happy and sings too much.” It was true. The new boy was the most cheerful, outgoing person I’d ever met. And he loves to sing.

The same girl gave a similar PSA behind my back when I was new. “We shouldn’t play with her because she’s weird and wears dress up clothes.” I was six. And it was true, I did wear a princess costume every day. Eventually I traded in my tutus for some looks that better reflected internalized misogyny and everyone figured out I’m funny as all shit and can get along with most anyone. I graduated from the bottom of the food chain.

So I shrugged off her hot take on my new friend. I don’t think she liked that her plans to cancel the new guy flopped. Because as we were waiting around that table she jumped up and grabbed his earlobe between her finger nails. She was super proud of her nails. They were long and scraggly like a cat and she was into filing them in public in case anyone felt too safe.

She dug her nails in on either side and no one said anything. You don’t stand up for a boy to a girl. I can’t remember if he tried to swat her off or just took it. It was only a minute but it was a damn long one. Blood started to bead around her nails. Then the door opened and she sat back down. Sunday school started.

Nothing I believed, no books, no paper, no concept of abomination could override what I’d just seen, the revulsion deep in my gut. It was more than rage. More than disgust. I still have no word for it. I was too young and the feelings that well up are still those of a thirteen year old.

It doesn’t matter what you call it. Anger like that is like walking around dead and suddenly finding your pulse because it’s roaring in your ears like a jackhammer.

I prayed to be like everyone else. To care about the same social issues in the same way. The only way I could make sense of my loneliness was that I was cursed in some way. If God loved me, he would make me content with the same values as my peers. But I had just seen someone harm someone else and not a single one of these fine, upstanding kids I’m supposed to make friends with say a damn thing.

A few years later, there was some kinda touchy-feeling Jesus shindig where everyone got real sugared up at night and had a big sing along with some college kids who were supposedly qualified to talk about the deep shit with us. If I mentioned their university you’d recognize it. Hint: assault cover ups

One guy, nineteen or so, must have gotten particularly inspired in the spirit because he starts preaching off-the-cuff about the sins of anorexia, binging, purging, and cutting. I inched backward. I tried hiding behind a football player; I was about half his width after all.

Peggy, what’s up with the bandaids?

I guess I tripped over a wall.

Hey I have a joke. How many Peggies can you fit in the shower? No one knows because—-

— I keep slipping down the drain. Heard that one.

Eat a fucking sandwich, you skinny cunt

The best part of the speech is it was addressed to us about the bad, vague other kids who barfed and otherwise screwed around. Those poor fuck-ups, insulting God’s creation by choosing to defile their bodies.

I couldn’t wait to get home and go for it, but felt a whole lot more like a compulsion than a choice.

I’ve heard this sermon twice, by the way. The second time, the pastor held up a paper crane and asked us to admire its delicacy and the skill it took to make it before shredding it up. Guess he worked hard on that metaphor.

That was me. A paper crane. Pure white, crafted precisely, folded up small. You could pinch my wings between your fingernails and pull them off. I wouldn’t bleed and you could vacuum me up. That was my power. The control in the fine lines and tight folds.

Anyway here I am squirming on my butt and waiting for my chance to burn off my two bites of pizza and Oreos. I’m pretty sure I’d made everyone laugh by scooting the cookies into my mouth from my forehead with no hands. See, everyone, I eat. Yeah, I was gonna have to get in some crunches tonight.

I wondered if I could chug enough lemon water to get diarrhea without being noticed, when somehow, we were looking at each other. The boy’s eyes were bright blue. Ice blue, like in cheesy books. Gay.

Skinny.

Leviticus. The apostle Paul.

Cutter.

It’s a powerful feeling, that two seconds of eye-contact that lets you know you aren’t crazy. That you aren’t the only one in the room who is angry. It is taking a hand to find it as wounded as yours.

Whatever is divine in this world, whatever is true and special and outside of ourselves, it is in the rage you can’t shake. If a voice is telling you that no one deserves to be treated this way, that you inherently do not deserve this, and you say shut up and shut up and shut up and it won’t

Shut up, shut up,

and your only answer is this is bullshit. You should get up and leave

Shut up

I said you are free to walk out,

I can’t,

well then I say you can. I say Truth never left you and you’re not dead.

disclaimer: I did not write this to shit on Christians (I am a Christian) or any tradition in general but the corruption that exists in specific systems

other disclaimer: the other kids in this story were literally also just kids, even the mean ones. I’m pretty sure all of them have grown into sensible adults I’d hang out with. I did not write this to shit on them either.

[the-memphista]

Tom Hardy in his MySpace era

[betelgeusing]

WHERE IS THE STUDIO EXEC THAT MADE A STINK ABOUT THIS AND ROBBED ME OF BRAD DOURIF JOKER. I AM SO SO SERIOUS I JUST WANT TO TALK AND NOT SHRED HIM TO DEATH WITH MY TEETH

[crymeariveronceagain]

*in a terrible brooklyn accent* click the link if you dare i need to ramble rant and rave like a woman driven to the brink of insanity

i know i didn't deserve the way they treated me. i know i didn't deserve it. i know it inside and out. but my heart hasn't learned. my brain can't do it. all i think when i look someone in the eyes is "shit what if it all ends up awful again" over and over and over. every interaction i have is stilted because of the way they treated me. every last one of them hurt me in some way. every last one of them damaged some part of my heart.

the first one told me i was too happy and now i worry about being too positive and driving everyone away. he took my love and smiled as he crumbled it into dust. he held my hand and he smiled at me and then it must not have mattered quite enough.

the second one didn't give me real reasons, just fake ones, accusations that he'd never brought up before, something i thought was a joke that he decided was splitting grounds. he laughed when i cried in front of him.

the third one didn't care. she was my best friend for years and then one day decided that i wasn't worth bothering with. i guess i should have expected that when she dated my ex less than two weeks after we broke up. when she spread rumors about me around like butter i wasn't surprised but stars did it hurt. her little brother asked if i'd abused my ex, and i think i should have expected all the problems she brought with her.

the fourth one joined in, after i'd lost friendships defending her, lost love because she'd told me that our friendship was doomed anyways, didn't hang out with me without someone else around and still let me think she was my best friend. she never understood why i couldn't be around him, never understood why i didn't like being a third wheel when all she ever did was stare into her boyfriend's eyes.

the fifth one hurt the most. because he didn't do anything at all. he never did anything. he just never asked if i was okay. and maybe i'd have survived that if he hadn't been my closest, truest friend. maybe i'd have been okay if he hadn't been my brother in everything but name. maybe i'd have been okay if the sight of him doesn't make me want to throw my arms around him and ask him how he's doing and if he cared and why he never stood up for me when i'd never have let anyone say that shit about him.

and now every single time i look at someone new i just see it, over and over, replaying like a broken record.

my mom says someday i'll forget all about them.

my mom says that someday they'll be so far in the past i'll laugh to think how worked up i got over them.

i hope she's right. i hope i never have to think about how my old friends are out in the world. i hope i never have to look my old boyfriends in the eyes. i hope i never have to smile at my oldest closest fondest friends.

i dont know why it's not fading. feels like a raw wound, with a rope, dragged back and forth over my skin.

am i sitting in my pain, am i trying to stay where it hurts?

am i frozen, stuck?

am i too weak, too small, too tired to keep fighting?

should i get over myself and go demand that my old friend explain? Should I ask the question that's always on the tip of my tongue?

Why wasn't I worth it to you?

would that solve the problems or would that make it worse?

would that make me cry or make me free? would that save me or ruin me? would i live or would i die?

would i be able to smile when this nice friend of mine comes and sits with me at the cafeteria? would i be able to hold a conversation with the guy i like? would this solve my problems or make them worse?

I feel like the line I'm walking is straight through health and brokenness and I'm tottering from one side to another and I want to let it all dissappear into the past but I can't figure out how to stop it from happening.

I can't figure out how on earth to solve the problems.

Usually I'd say that I need therapy.

But I still haven't picked up the phone to call the office. Because what do you say?

Hi, can I speak to your least terrifying therapist who knows about fucked up friendships and relationships and anxiety and like, emotional issues and burnt out gifted kid shit and problems and problems and problems?

Sounds foolish but that's all i have to say.

hi, can you help me?

[joannamarianna]

I decide to watch UCL for ONCE and it's a disaster. What happened PSG??? Like, is this my luck? Am I cursing the teams I'm supporting. First Mercedes in 2021, then Ferrari in 2022 and now this. Lmao.

[yourhandsonmine]

Im scared to continue

[spadesofspader]

my teddy bear