#Girl what are you doing then..

[whitefangz]

sorry i need to overshare on tumblr dot com. nothing serious but it might be long so im putting it under a readmore

i started seeing a therapist in june and just stopped and i am not intending this to come across as anti therapy in any way but im like LASKJF idk. i need to tell somebody else about this. I contacted her in like mid May i think and i specifically sought her out bc she said she does cognitive behavioral therapy and ive read thats a good option for people dealing w my issues and started seeing her in june and like. The first couple of times were fine i honestly didnt really like it but everyone and their dog is always like ohhh it always kinda sucks at first and also i simply hate talking about my feelings etc so i expected that. fine whatever. anyway red flag number one was that she didnt seem to understand how insurance works at all and said i could just pay her on venmo. and i was like. Um ok. but she said i wouldnt need to for a couple weeks so i just left it alone. red flag number two is that one time she brought her enormous dog and it lunged at me and tried to bite me in the face. LASJKFG which to be honest. I almost walked out at that point and i mean she was very apologetic + usual dog owner "he never does that im so sorry!!!!!!" and removed him from the office but like Who fucking brings their horse sized dog to a therapy appt without asking if the person is ok with it. And like she was accredited and shit its not like i was going to see someone in their basement. i would ignore these if i thought her sessions were like remotely helpful but all she would do was like. Ask me about what i did and then tell me not to do that. Like i pace around the house a lot when im anxious. and she would be like well try not to do that. ok! see you next week. Like. Do you think ive not thought of that one. she also kept insisting that my phobia has to be like rooted in some kind of trauma or that its actually Secretly about being afraid of embarrassment and i would be like. i dont think its either of those things. and then she'd be like Ok well i don't really know how to help you :/ Which honestly idk. i was put off by her saying that repeatedly as is but then last week she just decided she was going to make me try exposure therapy which i told her before i don't want to do / don't feel ready to do right now. i just want to focus on managing the anxiety first. and she just like told me to do it anyway LJKFD idk. i emailed her to tell her i didnt want to continue and she was like that's ok. you might want to try EMDR therapy. btw you still ahve to pay me on venmo. and im just sitting here like 1) No i dont think i will need to try that and 2) I paid her thru my insurance like a normal person LASKJF like i dont know. i feel like i dodged a bullet or something. i'll try again someday but at this point im just happy to stop paying $20 a week for a woman to tell me to meditate. perhaps this is an uninteresting wall of text but if you read this far picture me shaking your hand. just a life update from me

[12neonlit-stage]

you're allowed to discuss and work together, reblog for a higher sample size or something

You have 1 week, good luck!

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

girl why the hell WEREN'T you at the devil's sacrament 👀 that's three sacraments in a row you've missed 👀 👀 👀

[inkskinned]

this is just my opinion but i think any good media needs obsession behind it. it needs passion, the kind of passion that's no longer "gentle scented candle" and is now "oh shit the house caught on fire". it needs a creator that's biting the floorboards and gnawing the story off their skin. creators are supposed to be wild animals. they are supposed to want to tell a story with the ferocity of eating a good stone fruit while standing over the sink. the same protective, strange instinct as being 7 and making mud potions in pink teacups: you gotta get weird with it.

good media needs unhinged, googling-at-midnight kind of energy. it needs "what kind of seams are invented on this planet" energy and "im just gonna trust the audience to roll with me about this" energy. it needs one person (at least) screaming into the void with so much drive and energy that it forces the story to be real.

sometimes people are baffled when fanfic has some stunning jaw-dropping tattoo-it-on-you lines. and i'm like - well, i don't go here, but that makes sense to me. of fucking course people who have this amount of passion are going to create something good. they moved from a place of genuine love and enjoyment.

so yeah, duh! saturday cartoons have banger lines. random street art is sometimes the most precious heart-wrenching shit you've ever seen. someone singing on tiktok ends up creating your next favorite song. youtubers are giving us 5 hours of carefully researched content. all of this is the impossible equation to latestage capitalism. like, you can't force something to be good. AI cannot make it good. no amount of focus-group testing or market research. what makes a story worth listening to is that someone cares so much about telling it - through dance, art, music, whatever it takes - that they are just a little unhinged about it.

one time my friend told me he stayed up all night researching how many ways there are to peel an orange. he wrote me a poem that made me cry on public transportation. the love came through it like pith, you know? the words all came apart in my hands. it tasted like breakfast.

[foolsocracy]

identity reveals are always fun

[strawberriesandmist]

Everyone from home says that you’re so cool, c’mon everybody to the boarding school

[alyakthedorklord]

Bruce Wayne, sitting in a cute eco-friendly cafe while on a video call with Tim: Oh Noooo, are you sure there’s no way the board of directors will let us get rid of this old decrepit Wayne Factory building that is unsafe for our workers and also for the surrounding environment?

CEO Tim, with equal gravitas: No, I’m afraid they just won’t budge. It technically meets legal requirements on paper, and we can’t prove that the chemicals affecting the local ecosystem that have no other possible source are from the out-of-date drainage system… they’re saying it would cost too much to fix the place up too, which is ridiculous, because we’re us, but our hands are tied…

Bruce, full Brucie himbo mode: Oh I just feel so SAD for all the sweet fluffy animals and the pretty flowers and especially our hard workers dealing with such unsafe conditions… I think I’ll give them all a nice short vacation this weekend, so the ENTIRE PLACE will be EMPTY and SHUT DOWN from FRIDAY TO TUESDAY, the SECURITY SYSTEM WILL BE DOWN because it’s just so GLITCHY, I’m sure nothing will happen to the ENVIRONMENTAL STAIN ON OUR COMPANIES NAME THAT WILL BE COMPLETELY ABANDONED FROM FRIDAY TO TUESDAY- Timmy do you think I’m being too subtle?

Tim, snickering: no no you’re doing great Bruce I’m sure they’ve got it

Poison Ivy, on a date the next table over: ( ‘-‘)-☕️

Harley, through tears of repressed laughter: so… we doing anythin’ this weekend?

[7weaslesinacoat]

i get that everyone’s like “oooo dick was so teensy when he was robin lol, that must’ve been so weird hahahaha”

but have you SEEEN an eight year old? imagine a full on 3 ft 11 child in a felt costume running around. like not “oh he’s eight” but then robin is built like a full ass teenager. no, none of that. imagine an EIGHT YEAR OLD standing above a crime scene, with chubby cheeks and all going-

“holy homicide batman! looks like whoever did the devilish dead really had it out for this guy!”

THIS NEEDS TO BE A BIGGER PROBLEM.

and it’s the most gruesome, horrific, bloody crime scene ever. and there’s just:

“don’t worry officers! robin on the case! 🤓👦”

[octopusheyart]

Actions and consequences are like a cocked guillotine

[oblivioustothevampirediaries]

my contribution for the netflix avatar remake

[petrowriting]

the revelation that claudia’s rebirth was such a twisted and horrible moment, with louis dragging her like she was a thing, a stranger who neither of them knew but he kept saying over and over “our daughter, our beautiful little daughter” to lestat, really solidified the way she was never the main character of her own story. she was always an accessory to some or the other of louis’ whims: his guilt, his loneliness, his conflict of being a killer, his rocky relationship with lestat. there was love there, love from both her fathers, but it was never enough. lestat saw her too much as a wretched mirror held up to his own self, and louis was always too steeped in his own feelings to care enough about hers. claudia’s story truly was the greatest tragedy in this tale, treated horribly by every man around her, even her fathers, relentlessly exploited and brutally ignored, always second and never first. the only one who loved her the way she deserved to be loved was madeleine, and the moment she truly had her, her happiness was torn from her. and just before she died, she got to see someone actually choose her in her entirety, not for what she can be but for who she is, and it still wasn’t enough. she still burned alive in the sunlight. the love was there, but it wasn’t enough to save her.

[captaincrazycreative]

Not over Cait threatening to throw some guy in prison in front of her gf who was wrongfully imprisoned and tortured for a decade

[cherrywhite]

hey silt verses? I just want to talk

[mamaclownhunter]

Ok I lied I have art that was too fun not to share

Listen- I need combative “I hate you bro but I would also die for you” platonic cumplane

I need Shang Quinghua calling Shen Quingqui a hussy and a harlot

I need Shen Quingqui to respond with a full bodied cathartic “bitch” I need them to be venting out frustrations every 2 seconds and ruthlessly gossiping the next. I need them to immediately turn on anyone that talks shit on the other.

Pls for my health.

[inkskinned]

we were sitting on the floor and i was cutting out tiny pictures to make a collage for a friend's birthday. you were on your phone and you laughed about something, and i was still in love with you then, so i asked what had you giggling.

"sorry. i was just..." you took a moment and went back to texting. "i was telling someone about how you're afraid of the dark."

i'm afraid of the dark because something bad happened. "oh." i felt a little slinky of shame crawl down my throat.

you glanced up, and maybe it showed on my face, because you rolled your eyes and held the phone to the side casually so i could see the group chat. "what? was it a secret?"

i looked down to the scissors in my hand. "i just..." no, it's not a secret. it just felt like something private, something serious. saying why would you tell someone that just feels like an accusation. it's unfair. i honestly am not even ashamed of it, it's just a fact about my person that i don't usually share.

what a strange experience. is this a human thing or a generational thing? for our grandparents: did they need to worry about how quickly someone can just... share your personal information? again, i didn't even really have a true objection. what could i say? i want any person in my life to feel they can be honest with their friends. it's not like i said don't tell anyone this.

i cut out another letter to complete the rainbow happy birthday, started hunting for the exclamation mark. i heard you sigh dramatically.

"don't make a big deal about this," you said.

this entire conversation was a pattern for us, and this was when we got to my least favorite part of the pattern. i would get my feelings hurt in some oblique not-technically-terrible way, and then it would be making a big deal about something. you'd get frustrated for me for being soft, but i was born soft. you knew i was soft when you pierced me. it's one of the things that made controlling me so easy.

"i'm not," i felt my voice crack. the question came without my wanting. "why are you guys talking about me?" and why are you saying that thing? why not like - i'm telling them how you're generous and kind and pretty.

you let out this low, tragic groan. "oh my god." you tossed the phone away from your body. "there, see? i just won't talk to them if you don't like it."

the rest of the hour went the way it always went, between us: i said i don't actually mind if you talk to your friends but -, you found a way to call my minor expression of discomfort "being dramatic." you got upset that i had been offended. i ended up apologizing, even though i hadn't actually done anything.

afterwards, you picked up the phone again. after texting for a little bit, you snorted. "okay," you said, "but it is kind of funny you're afraid of the dark. i mean, when you think about it."

[sergle]

when ppl’s “body positive/plus size” art just starts and ends with a big ass