#we WILL romanticise it and you can’t stop us!

[paverics]

men don’t give a shit about that angler fish dying yet i’m expected to spend my life with one? with someone who lacks emotional intelligence? who can’t empathise? with someone trying to dodge the metaphorical depth of it like bullets? who can’t relate to the tragedy of it all? she was just a girl

[deluluonmyback]

impulsivity in bpd can be cutting and dyeing your hair, but it’s also frying and destroying your hair to a point where it’s completely ruined and you’re self conscious of it everyday.

impulsivity in bpd can be having an attitude and saying some petty things to people, but it’s also ruining every good friendship and relationship you’ve ever had and you can’t stop yourself from sabotaging everything, so you end up alone in a deep pit.

impulsivity in bpd can be having some drinks, doing dr*gs, or having a lot of meaningless sex. but it’s also relying on drinking and dr*gs so much that you’re completely off your face all time and it ruins your image and every aspect of your life. and it’s also no one wanting a relationship with you because you “sleep around” or “probably have an std”.

impulsivity in bpd can be browsing an fps facebook. but it’s also stalking their every move online and their every step in the real world constantly because you need them so bad. you can’t live without knowing if they’re okay, knowing what they’re doing, knowing if they’re leaving you for someone else, etc.

the list goes on. us borderlines post a lot of shit about bpd, and in my personal case, laughing it off and sharing it to others makes me feel a bit better and i know that it makes others feel less alone knowing that other people are doing the same horrendous shit. but stop romanticising being obsessive, quirky, impulsive, and having an attitude. it’s fucking painful. the emotional aspect is PHYSICALLY painful. watching the world crumble around us because most of us can’t fucking stop ourselves is painful. the withdrawals from substances, s/h, etc because we are so prone to addiction is PAINFUL. i’m all for supporting our fellow borderlines and cluster b peoples, but STOP self diagnosing to be “trendy”. i’m not on about self diagnosing, etc if you’re certain and it means you’re getting the support that you absolutely need. everyone is deserving of help, whether healthcare wants to agree or not, EVERYONE deserves the help they need. but stop trying to make bpd sound fun. being euphoric is fun, the rest of it IS NOT. ITS FUCKING PAINFUL. thank u bye 💕

(ps. i hate making rant posts about this, but seeing people act like bpd is a “fun choice” in life pisses me the fuck off, every day is just pure fucking suffering. the people romanticising and hyping this shit up are the same people who will talk shit about any cluster b who is showing symptoms or having one hell of an episode. but this NEEDS to be out there x)

(edit: the amount of support i’ve had on this is unreal 😭❤️ i tried to word this the best i can but when i have a lot to say it often comes out making no fucking sense at all or something comes off the wrong way. i saw someone reply about the yanderes shit. I KNOW WHAT YOU MEAN. i don’t know why the fuck people fetishise it, it makes me feel disgusting to have an fp even if i’m keeping as far away from them as possible. and also the “euphoric is fun”, i still do a lot of embarrassing and over the top shit when i’m euphoric that i regret. but in the moment, the happiness i feel i just embrace now because it’s not been often that i ever get to feel like that. thank you so much for the likes and reblogs, i really hope this post has helped y’all. I LOVE YOU ALL ❤️)

[agirlwithglam]

How to be the “it girl” in school ✨💁‍♀️

Academic validation >> external validation (boys, girls, etc.) : academic validation should always come first if you’re in school. ALWAYS. Your grades and your knowledge will take you far in life, not the approval of some random kids who you probably wont ever even see again. You need to know your priorities.

Romanticise it!: make school fun! Romanticise it. Act like the main character because you ARE the main character and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise!

Study for tests: part of being an “it girl” is actually getting good grades. And how do we get good grades? By studying!! Romanticise studying if you want. But just study. Study study study until you can’t get it wrong. Also- stop working just on motivation. Create a routine or schedule where you get in studying everyday and STICK TO IT.

Confidence: walk, talk and act with confidence and confidence only. walk as if you OWN the room. Know that you are worth a million dollars, OWN THAT. Believe in yourself and your abilities. Remember: “you can’t fit in if you were born to stand out!”

Stop caring about what others think of you. people will hate on you and THATS OKAY. Some people will literally hate on like everything. I heard once (from thewizardliz) that there will be a video of cats playing on the internet and there will be a person that figures out how to hate on it. There will be people who just have nothing to do in their lives except try to bring you down so you need to just ignore it. Be protective of your energy.

Style: it’s okay to hop onto different trends, but try to find your own style. It’s okay if your school has a uniform, you can add a ‘signature’ piece of jewellery to your outfit to make you feel a bit better about yourself. Also use a certain scent/ perfume on yourself that just makes you feel a bit more.. ✨you.✨ (also remember it’s perfectly alright to change your style if you get bored once in a while!)

Good hygiene: brush your teeth. Comb your hair. Shower. Make sure your lips aren’t crusty musty dusty. Iron your clothes. Make sure you feel fresh and clean everyday.

Be kind: dont be mean if you have no reason to. If someone comes up to you politely asking a question or talking to you about something, dont give them a side eye, dont look at them as if they’re a clown, be polite and respectful. No one, and i mean NO ONE likes someone who’s rude. You may think it’s cool, but rly.. it isn’t. It’s just icky. Give genuine compliments, smile, treat others to make them feel special. Although do remember that THERE IS A DIFFERENCE BETWEEN BEING kind AND BEING A people pleaser!! Have boundaries and prioritise YOURSELF FIRST.

It girl emojis to use (optional): ✨🩷💌💋🐩🪩📚🎧💗💄🌸👑🎀

Xoxo, Vanilla

[miley1442111]

realistic reactions- r. cameron

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a/n: this takes place in a au where the stuff that happens in the show doesn't happen :)

tropes: childhood bestfriends to lovers, enemies to lovers

pairing: rafe cameron x fem! reader, jj maybank x reader (dw, not for long)

(use of Y/n, and the nickname Bunny/ bun (but i promise not in a weird way there's a story to it i swear it's not just one of those weird smut things))

summary: something pushes feelings up to the surface for rafe, yet yours remain unchanged.

warnings: mentions of drugs and drug use and drinking, fighting, cursing, rafe is a dick, rafe's mental health, reader is going through it, mentions of a blowjob, etc.

not entirely proofread

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The next time Rafe saw you, it was in his kitchen. So casually. His kitchen. Talking with Wheezie and Sarah. 

“Morning sleepyhead,” Wheezie chuckled. “It’s 5pm, by the way.”

Rafe just scoffed and flipped her his middle finger and she sighed, rejoining your conversation. Rafe listened in, of course. What else did you expect him to do? You were sitting in his kitchen.

“What about Jj?” Sarah smirked. “He’s totally into you.”

Fuck no. Fuck no. 

Jj Maybank had been trying to get your attention since Pre-k, and Rafe didn’t like that. He didn’t like it then, and he didn’t like it now. You were not going out with Jj. 

“I guess… but he’s like two years younger than me, and he smokes,” you sighed. 

“So what? I swear to god if you asked him to stop he would. He’s fucking obsessed with you,” she laughed. 

“No way,” you laughed. “Anyways, I wouldn’t want to make him stop something he enjoys just because I don’t like it. That’s not fair.”

That sinking feeling he’d felt all day, the one that made him stay in his room far past his waking up at 11am, made its way to his throat. He was exactly what you didn’t want. He was a prime example of what you didn’t want. You wanted a sweet, normal, good guy. Rafe was an uncontrollable, angry, bad person. He had no chance. 

The words fell from his mouth before he even knew what he was saying. “Jj is an asshole,” he scoffed.

“Rafe, did we invite you into this conversation?” Sarah sassed. “And, Jj is our friend, just because you like to uphold the shitty Kook-Pogue rivalry bullshit, doesn’t mean we have to.”

“Fuck off Sarah, I’m trying to warn Bun. He sleeps with anyone,” he turned to you and watched as your face turned from neutral to offended.

“Who says I didn’t just want to sleep with him?” You questioned and Rafe blood started to boil. 

“Exactly!” Sarah exclaimed. “You can’t tell her what she can and can’t do.”

“Bun, I know you, you don’t want to date a guy like that-“

“No, Rafe, you don’t know me. You’d know me if you ever responded to me. You’d also know that I hate being called Bunny now, so please stop,” despite your cutting tone, Rafe couldn’t help but smile at your politeness. 

But what you’d said. He knew it would come up, he knew you’d ask him why, and to be honest, he didn’t have an answer for you. Some part of him just thought it was hopeless. Even as a 14 year old boy, he knew he wasn’t for you, he knew he wouldn’t be enough for you. He couldn’t be what you deserved. 

“Fine,” he smiled sarcastically, shaking the protein shake he’d been making. “See you later, Bunny.”

He heard you scoff as he walked off. 

--------------------

“Asshole,” Sarah scoffed. 

“He’s not that bad,” Wheezie defended. 

“He’s not, that’s true,” you agreed, trying to save Rafe and Wheezie’s relationship. Sarah and Rafe were done. You and Rafe were done. Wheezie could still have a good relationship with Rafe. Be cared about by Rafe, like you once were, and if your childhood memories weren’t just romanticised versions of the truth, being cared about by Rafe Cameron was something you wouldn’t trade for the world. 

“How can you say that?” Sarah gasped. “After what he did to you?”

“What did he do to you?” Wheezie asked, concern filing her young eyes. 

“Sarah, that’s an exaggeration and you know it,” you sighed. 

“Really? He stopped talking to you entirely, and then told everyone on this island that you stopped texting him back and convinced everyone else to do the same,” she listed. 

You shrugged. “Yeah, he was a dick when he was 15, so what?”

“You cannot just be okay with it all, I’d be pissed!” Sarah argued. 

“I’m over it, and I’m over him!” You say finally. You’re over it all, over Rafe. 

Sarah finally lets up her arguing, and your girl's day goes back to normal. Then you got two very distracting texts.

RC: I’m sorry Bunny. 

JM: You coming over 2night?

And if you’d seen the way those texts were sent, you’d be laughing, very hard. 

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RC: I’m sorry Bunny.

“What the fuck do I say?”

“Just text her!” Kelce shouted from across the gym as Rafe stared down at his phone. “Say sorry!”

“Like that’ll cut it?” He hurled back. “I’m the world’s biggest asshole to her-”

“And everyone else,” Topper added and Rafe scowled. 

“Thanks, fuckhead,” he groaned. “OK Kelce,” Rafe sighed. Kelce was the only one of them with a long-term girlfriend. “What do I say, verbatim?” 

“How about, ‘sorry Bun’, it’s simple. It’s sweet. And it’ll mean you can come spot me now,” Kelce smirked and Rafe sighed typing it out, and handing it to Topper to send. 

“You’re really getting me to send it? What are you, twelve?” Topper chuckled. Kelce laughed along while Rafe contemplated letting the bar fall on his friend’s chest, but eventually decided against it. 

That was the problem, Rafe felt uncontrolled with you. Venturing into uncharted territories as his feelings, the ones he’d sworn he’d buried years ago, raised to the surface, and punched him in the face. All at once. 

You were beautiful, Rafe knew that, anyone who saw you knew that. But what they didn't see was the little girl who Rafe ran to every time. the girl who was there for him, the girl who defended him, the girl who he loved.

Rafe's stomach lurched

Woah. Love? Shit, he was in deep.

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JM: You coming over 2night?

“What the fuck do I say?” Jj screeched as Pope and John B laughed at him. “That isn’t helping things!”

“Just text her you pussy!” John B laughed so hard he fell off his seat. 

“Pope,” Jj looked to his smartest friend. 

“Ok, ok, give me your phone,” Pope nodded and Jj handed it over, no question. Jj paced the kitchen as Pope typed out a message onto his phone, a thousand thoughts running through his head, almost all of them about you. God, you’d come back and you were even better than he’d remembered. More fun, more carefree, more beautiful. Jj knew he wasn’t the only one who noticed either, Rafe had his eyes on you and he knew it. Jj would have to act fast before Rafe pulled you back into his orbit of asshole-ness. At least, that’s what Jj called it. He knew if he wanted you, he'd have to act fast, and this was part one of his plan. You could never call Jj Maybank unplanned, because he always had something up his sleeve. 

“Ok, how about,” Pope started and Jj’s heart dropped when his fake British accent came out. “My fair maiden, would you like to accompany me to-”

Jj snatched the phone out of his hands before he could finish, and both the boys were back in their uncontrollable fits of laughter. “Fuck you guys,” he mumbled, leaving the house, favouring to sit by the water instead. He took a deep breath and typed it out, spending about 10 minutes deliberating on whether to send it now, or just run for the hills and never speak to you again. Eventually, he sent it.

He anxiously awaited your reply. 

--------------------

You: Sorry J, I have dinner with the Cameron’s 2night. Tomorrow? xxx

3 x’s had to mean something good, right? Like not ‘I’m in love with you, please marry me’ but not ‘you’re disgusting, I’m actively giving Rafe a blowjob fuck off, I love him’.

--------------------

RC: I’m sorry Bunny.

Read at 4:12pm

Fuck. He wasn’t just in the doghouse, he was on another fucking continent, and he had no choice but to fucking crawl his way back, and he had to act fast, especially if Jj Maybank was after you.

Dinner was going to be interesting. 

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obx masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)

taglist: (comment to be added :))

@hockeybabe87 @maybankslover @anightlikethisss @linaaaaa654 @ijustwanttoreadlols @ihe4rttwd @sunny1616 @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafeecameronsbitch @drewswifeeee @lovegeorgia

[theconstantsidekick]

Lit Cigarettes (Part 1)

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Reader, Sam Winchester x BestFriend!Reader, Damon Salvatore x Stefan Salvatore x Sister!Reader (mentioned) Genre: Angsty Fluff

Summary: Y/n decides that Dean Winchester really needs to know how she feels about him.

(Set after the events of Supernatural season 4 and yes, Y/n is technically a Salvatore. I love the adopted sibling trope, can you tell?)

a/n: I have another part in mind if this does well.

Warnings: Smoking, mentions of smoking, romanticisation of smoking, a lot of that yes, sorry. Don't smoke kids.

Part 2 is here

He used to light her cigarettes when she was too busy talking. That’s what love is. According to her, that is the truest, most genuine form of love. The idea might sound quite contradictory, somehow. But it would make sense to smokers all around the world. 

The thought that somebody would just pluck the cigarette out of your hand, light it, take a little puff to keep the light aflame and just place it back between your index and middle finger. That’s somehow so painfully selfless that it can’t be classified as anything other than the most romantic act known to mankind. 

Now, the tragedy of it all was that that was the only showing of love she ever got from him. All she ever got was a lit cigarette handed off to her while she was too invested in spewing absolutely random bullshit about the sensors on automatic doors at some blackwater motel in an unnamed town. He’d do it quietly. He wasn’t quiet but there was always a quietness about him. Not quiet in the truest definition of the word. He was quiet in a different way, he talked. He was always charming, never not charming. He smiled and charmed everyone further still, but it felt like a very well rehearsed performance. His words, his charm, his smile seemed rehearsed, practiced relentlessly. A stark contrast to how they talked, when he talked to her and just her. Or well, so she thought until she found out that he could talk with a genuine smile to just about anyone unless there was a room full of people. Until the day she found that out, she felt quite special about it.

She felt important to him, enough for him to talk around her more, smoke around her more and light her cigarettes when she was too busy talking.

He never smoked around anyone else, hid the bad habit from his brother, but never her. It made her feel like there was a precarious unspoken bond between the two of them that could break at the mere mention of it. Could it?

She’s going to find out.

“Dean,” she calls out in no urgency, with a quiet calm. They are packing up their things, leaving the small motel room behind for another one in another town. Sam’s out at the reception, settling the bill. He’ll be back soon, she needs to wrap this up before he comes back. 

“Yeah?” Dean answers, never looking up from the duffle bag he’s aggressively shoving his clothes into.

“I love you.”

Dean’s motion halted at once. He doesn’t move, she thinks maybe he can’t move.

“Dean?”

The man in front of her gulps, audibly. “Yeah?”

“I love you.” It feels important to reiterate in this case. 

“I—” Words seem to be straining him. “I heard you the first time.”

“Good,” she tells him and then resumes packing her shit. But there’s a few more things to add, “I know we don’t talk about it, I know we aren’t supposed to. I know you’ve always known that I loved you and we still never talk about it, which means you don’t feel the same way, which again, I know. I am not trying to change your mind, I’m not trying to get into your pants. I’m certainly not asking you to love me back. I am not asking for anything actually, so you can quit looking so fucking terrified. I just needed to tell you because you up and died and it felt like my life stopped, like I couldn’t fucking breathe anymore. I felt hollow and broken and it felt wrong to be alive…” He looks at her then. Her voice is so thick with emotions, even though she is trying to keep them at bay, he must have felt compelled to look at her, she muses.

Shaking her head, she exhales audibly. “But you’re back now and I just needed to say it. I’ve loved you since I first saw you when I was 13. I don’t know how to not be in love with you, trust me, I’ve tried. So, I've learnt to make peace with it. I definitely don’t need you to say something, I just needed you to know that I love you, always have, most probably I always will. I need you to know that you are loved.”

There is silence then, no words, just the sound of her footsteps as she goes around the room picking up things she wants to shove into her bag.

“I…” Dean tries. But the words fade away just as quickly as the thoughts strike him. She looks at him for a second but the silence that proceeded makes her look away. She has just dropped a huge bomb, not that it was some revelatory information but it was something they had avoided talking about for literally ever, so it was fair that he needed some time to come up with a response. She is more than happy to give it to him.

But then Sam walks back into the room. “I’m pretty sure the dude at the reception thinks we’re a freaking thruple.” He walks to the washroom to collect his toiletry pouch and begins packing as well. “I mean, I’m not sure I can blame him? But I want to?” He shrugs. “Dean and I really don’t look all that alike, maybe that’s it? But this is like, the seventh motel in a row that’s given me really weird looks, you know? I don’t know whether to be flattered or plain disgusted—” His words drop off, as he finally notices the atmosphere in the room.

“Am I interrupting something?” He asks looking from his brother to his best friend.

“Yes,” Dean replies at the same time as she says, “No.”

“NO?!” Dean balks at her.

“Can you guys drop me off at the bus stop? I gotta head to Mystic Falls,” she says, zipping up her bag and exiting the room.

Dean follows her instantly. “Mystic Falls? I thought you weren’t talking to your brothers?” Running up to catch up with her, he races even further ahead to open the trunk of his car for her. 

“Yeah, but that was last week,” she tells him as if that was enough explanation. She places her bag in the trunk.

“They kicked you out!” Dean seems on edge. She can’t completely understand why. 

She looks at him. “It’s Stef’s birthday.”

“He’s had a couple hundred of those,” Dean argues.

She smiles, “I hope he has a couple hundred more, and I’ll try to attend them all.”

“Damon forgot yours!” 

She shrugs. “I’ll pretend to forget his. But this is Stefan. And besides, Caroline invited me. You want me to bail and piss her off?”

He slams the trunk shut. “Fine!” He acquiesces, albeit very aggressively. “But I’m dropping you to the Boarding House, not a fucking bus stop.”

Meanwhile, Sam comes out, carrying his own luggage as well as Dean's—who had apparently completely forgotten about it. He opens the trunk again, eyeing Dean and her very suspiciously.

She moves to open the back door of the Impala. “You’re going to Ohio, it’s like a three hour detour.”

“It’s two hours with me behind the wheel. Get in,” he commands, leaving no room for any argument. 

“I was doing that anyway,” she says almost to herself, getting in the back. 

Dean stops her. “Get in the front. Sam’ll sit in the back.”

“I will?” Sam questions, lost.

Dean doesn’t care. He just gets in the driver seat, not waiting on either of the two. A look passes between Sam and her. He raises a brow in question, she just smiles and shrugs again in response and gets in.

Later, when Sam’s already asleep in the backseat, Dean clears his throat.

“So.”

She doesn’t turn around to look at him, she isn’t sure she was supposed to, and it’s drizzling, she doesn’t want to turn away from the window, not yet. “So.”

She can feel him shift uncomfortably next to her. “You gonna say anything?” He asks.

She thinks for a second. “I don’t think I have anything left to say, really. I said everything I had to say.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?!” Dean yells out.

She has to look at him then, with ire in her eyes. “SHhhh!! He’s sleeping!” She whisper-yells at him, pointing to Sam in the back seat. 

Trying to compose himself once again, Dean whisper-yells back at her, “What do you mean you’ve said everything you had to?”

“I said it, in the motel,” She explains.

“And that was it? The end of the conversation?” Dean questions, seeming very agitated.

“I mean, yeah! What else am I supposed to do?” She throws back, his agitation is quite contagious. It always has been. 

“You really think that was a reasonable end to that conversation?!” Dean bites.

She’s getting annoyed now. “What do you want? You want me to elaborate? Write a thesis paper on it? Or—or would you like to read my diary where I scribbled ‘Y/n Winchester’ a million times? What exactly is the resolution you’re looking for here?”

“You wrote ‘Y/n Winchester’ in your diary a million times…?” He asks, almost as if he cannot comprehend the idea of it. 

From anyone else she would’ve taken that as an insult. Had it been anyone else they might have actually been making fun of her. But it’s not anyone else. It’s Dean. So she’s compelled to look at him.

“Yeah, Dean. And it was just as embarrassing then as it is right now. But I was the nerdy teenager and you were the hot jock who the cheerleaders at Mystic Falls High were dying to date.” Just the thought of those days makes her morose. “I don’t like to think about those days.”

Then there is silence again.

Until Dean clears his throat, slowly he says, “But I never drove any of them home.” And damn it all to hell, it makes her smile. And damn it all to hell, her smile apparently makes him more confident in his approach. “I didn’t wait for them outside their place, blaring AC/DC at the crack of dawn, all to get milkshakes before school… It was you. I wanted to hang out with you.”

But that’s somehow the wrong thing to say, “Never at school.”

“What?” Dean asks, thrown off.

“You didn’t talk to me at school.” Admitting it, it breaks something in her all over again. It’s like she’s in highschool again. She hates it.

“That’s not true! We had lunch together everyday!” He defends.

“Nope,” she tells him. “You had lunch with the cheer squad while I sat on the table next to you silently eating really bad beans.”

“But I was there,” He tries.

“You were,” she concedes. “You were there but you weren’t there.”

Silence falls once again.

“I don’t blame you,” she is the one that breaks it. “For high school.”

“Why not?” Dean asks, sounding genuinely more hurt at the fact that she doesn’t blame him than the fact that she accused him of ignoring her.

“It’s a weird time for everyone, and I think Mystic Falls High was the first time you got to actually enjoy it. You stayed there long enough to stop being the new kid and I think it was also the first time you felt like you fit in. I didn’t, and that was never your fault… or your problem for that matter,” she explains, fidgeting with her hands in her lap.

“That’s not fair,” Dean opposes.

“What?”

“Your problems are my problems.”

And the finality of his statement gives her a weird sort of confidence to say, “Sheesh. Wonder why I ended up falling in love with you.” 

The car skids a little.

She can’t help it, she laughs.

“YOU CAN’T JUST SAY SHIT LIKE THAT!” Dean argues.

She’s still laughing, “I’m sorry. But… Come on! It was kinda funny.” 

“I did not find that funny! Not even a little bit! What’s so funny about being—” He cuts himself off.

She laughs a little harder. “That’s what’s funny! You can’t even say it! You wanna know what’s so funny about being in love with you? I can’t stop it. It’s…” She sits up to position her back towards the window and moves herself to face Dean better. “It’s like breathing. I have tried, time and time again, to stop, and for a while I can. I can try to hold my breath when I’m being mindful of it. I can remember not to breathe when I’m focused on not breathing but the moment my brain gets engaged anywhere else, I’m screwed. The moment I look away, the moment I burn my toast, or start reading a book or watch a film, the moment I’m in a rush to meet Bonnie, the moment my mind becomes occupied with anything other than the conscious thought reminding me not to breathe—BAM! I’m falling in love with you again. It’s so fucking easy, it’s so fucking comfortable. Loving you is the my most cherished accomplishment because I’ve done it so fucking well for so freaking long.” She smiles. “I feel like I deserve a prize.”

Dean stays silent.

Her smile fades.

She shakes her head, she knew what he felt. She’s always known how he feels. A long silence shouldn’t be the thing that aches her heart. Not after having been in love with this man for this long.

“Did you—” He cuts himself short. She turns to him again, eager for him to continue. And her silent pleas are heard loudly. Continue he does, “Did you decide to tell me… about this today cause we met 15 years ago today?”

“No,” she brushes him off. “I just needed to get this off my—” Suddenly his words strike her like a thunderbolt. “What do you mean 15 years ago today?”

He shrugs, eyes on the road. “A day before Stefan’s birthday, that’s when we met for the first time.”

“You… You remember the day we met?” She asks, dumbfounded.

Dean doesn’t answer, instead the car comes to a stop. He’s pulled into the parking lot of a 7Eleven. “I’ll be right back.”

Only when she watches Dean get out of the car and walk into the store does she realise that it’s the 7Eleven in Mystic Falls. They are only a few minutes away from the Salvatore Boarding house, barely 12 minutes away from her brothers’ place. 

She can’t believe she feels this way but a part of her feels like she’s running out of time. But running out of time for what? It’s Dean! He’ll be there to pick her up two days later. He’ll be there to light her cigarettes in a crowd—and not mean absolutely anything by it—in two days time. It’s not that long. They’ve dropped her off to live with her brothers’ for weeks even. Two days is nothing. It’s barely a visit. Then why in God’s name does she feel like there’s a clock right above her head counting down. And counting down to what??

“Here you go,” Dean says, as he gets in and throws something in her lap. 

She catches out of reflex. “Cigarettes?” It’s two packs of menthols, her current favorite.

“What about ‘em? You like these right?” He pulls out of the parking lot. “You quit Marlboro Reds a month ago, and switched to these so I thought they’d be a safer bet. Was I wrong?” 

It’s natural though. The most natural thing in the world. Dean buys her cigarettes. He always buys her cigarettes.

The thing about smoking that most people don’t understand is that it opens a whole new world. It’s bad obviously and no one should do it. But when you do it, when you smoke, there are a few things, a few rules that might not mean anything to a non-smoker but mean everything to a smoker. 

Take for instance, ‘Puff-Puff-Pass’. 

For any random person, the intricacies of ‘Puff-Puff-Pass’ exists to the extent of its name. But only a smoker knows that in an intimate setting, between two friends, the rule doesn’t apply. It’s rude not to follow the rule in a social gathering amongst semi-strangers, but among the two of them, it never applied.

Similarly, buying someone cigarettes is the purest gesture of care. 

Having a pack ready for consumption whenever she came back from a visit to the Salvatore Boarding House? To her that always felt like the loudest way that Dean could tell her that he cared for her. 

And he did these things often. Even when he quit smoking, he’d light her cigarettes for her. For as long as Dean has known she smokes, she has never lit a cigarette for herself. These gestures of… call it love, call it self-destruction, they have never not been there. So him buying her cigarettes is the most natural thing in the world but it throws her off still.

“Y/n?”

“What?” She suddenly remembers there was a question there, in his words before. “Oh yeah. Menthols… I smoke menthols now, yes. Good guess.”

He noticed me change my cigarettes? She asks herself, feeling something very close to giddy. Before she has to scream at herself inside, cause Dean has always done this and it has never meant anything. It’s just his small way of adhering to his duty of care.

“Thanks,” she tells him belatedly. She doesn’t fail to notice how the words make his nose scrunch up—the way it usually does when he dislikes something.

“You said you’ve tried not loving me,” Dean states and that’s all it is—a statement, an observation.

But she feels compelled to explain herself, “It’s not easy,” she tells him. “You’re… You’re you. You’re charming and hot and…” she’s spilled most of her guts, what harm can a little bit of spilling her heart do now? “You’re beautiful. You’ve got a different girl to take home every other night. It kills me inside, I won’t lie. It’s torture seeing you laughing with someone else. It really is. But it’s not your fault. And, I know you don’t feel the same way, and for a long time I didn’t mind this one sided affair cause, it was mine, you know? This love I had for you, it was all mine. I didn’t care if you loved me back… But then you…”

“Died,” he finishes the sentence for her.

She nods lamely. “It felt like my heart was ripped out of my chest. I don’t remember what I did when you weren’t around. I don’t remember how I survived because to me breathing was being in love with you. It’ll always be that. I just knew if I ever saw you again, I needed you to know how I felt. I’d been too selfish with my love for you. I… I don’t know. It sounds stupid now. I just needed you to know and I felt like I should tell you today so I did.”

And then the car stops again. 

She looks up and she’s standing in front of the boarding house. 

Clock’s run out.

Dean tries to say something but she doesn’t know if she has the courage to hear a placated, softly-worded rejection so she just gets out of the car. 

He follows suit.

He rushes to open the trunk and pulls out her luggage.

She takes it for him, and then begins walking to the door.

“Y/n!”

It feels like a gust of wind. 

The way he calls for her feels like the gust of wind that blows right before the lighting strikes.

She turns without hesitance. 

Their eyes lock.

He’s standing next to the driver side, the door to the impala is still open. The only thing lighting his face is a street light a couple paces behind him. Bathed in yellow, he looks like a wild field of sunflowers, with his messy blond hair and painfully green eyes. He’s absolutely breathtaking.

For all her talk of her love for Dean Winchester being like breathing, in this moment, at the sight of this man looking absolutely divine, she doesn’t think she remembers how to breathe at all.

So with bated breath, she waits for him to speak.

“Y/n…” He says again, before something changes and his eyes stop shining, his posture hardens, his hand grips the Impala’s door a little harder and his face loses color. Then he says, “We’ll pick you up Tuesday.” With that he gets back in the car and drives off. 

It’s only when they’ve crossed the Mystic Falls border does the silence in the Impala break.

“You’re an idiot,” Sam tells him. 

Find Part 2 here.

[susansontag]

I’ve always shied away from discussing ikuhara’s usage of incest in utena because it’s quite a sticky topic in shoujo manga and anime but also because those uninitiated with that are likely to assume his using it is somehow perverted and will have a knee-jerk reaction. but I think he’s honestly very clever with it, using it both on a metaphorical level to elicit sympathy for the characters and their romanticised notions of these relationships but also on a literal level to show the dangers and abuse inherent in these kinds of relationships.

nanami is the most obvious example. even though we as an audience may not understand her almost romantic fixation on attracting the attentions of her older brother touga, we can still sympathise with her behaviour on a metaphorical level; she is thirteen, she is lonely, he is her entire world and the world is taking him, and thus her childhood, away from her and she is helpless to stop this. nanami is not perverse, she is trying to secure control over a situation in which she has none. a more common and relatable example is when one feel as though they, their siblings, their parents, etc, revert back to the dynamics they solidified in childhood when they spend time as a family unit. it’s a phenomenon that can be irritating (‘they’re treating me like a child’) but also comforting, familiar, and certain.

yearning to remain in a permanent state of pre-adolescence is something a lot of different characters in utena contend with, albeit in different ways, but hers is so interesting because ikuhara decides she must at one point be met with the reality of what this would mean if taken to its extreme. nanami understands akio is abusing anthy before utena does, and draws strict lines between what those ‘perverse’ siblings are doing and her pure love for touga. yes, she lacks sympathy for anthy outwardly, but her horror at confronting incestuous abuse in a real, unromanticised context, forces her to understand how her innocent outlook can be taken advantage of by people who would mean to do her harm.

and then touga assaults her, and when she rejects him, bewildered, he accuses her: isn’t this what you wanted? of course he can’t understand it’s the absolute opposite of what she wanted to preserve. one could argue here that ikuhara is blaming nanami for her naivety, even punishing her for being so short-sighted. but on the contrary I think he’s desperately seeking our empathy for her here, in showing us that a child’s romanticisation is not an excuse for her victimisation nor her offering consent. and if all we want to focus on is the fantasies of an alienated child, we fail to appropriately condemn abusers from taking advantage of children like nanami.

[lonelyroommp3]

For the music asks: 1, 5, 23! 💖

Waittt I meant 22 not 23 🙈 but by all means answer both haha

and i WILL be answering both 😤 also this got far more philosophical than i anticipated. thanks for the accidental monday morning therapy i suppose

an album you can’t stop listening to lately

as i already said in another answer i do not really listen to albums on repeat, and am definitely not doing that at the moment, so i'm once again going to use this as an "album i listened to recently and enjoyed" slot, and i am giving that slot to fires by nerina pallot (thank you, btw, to @flashbastard for recommending me this one when i was asking for album recs the other day)

5. name an album you feel is perfect

i'm showing my tumblr here and i don't even care. it's the black parade

23. name a song that you associate with being sad

i've always romanticised the idea of a big dramatic Starting Over moment, which is an idea that's lovely in theory but in reality often lends you to a spiral of "okay, well that didn't go perfectly, so we start again tomorrow, and before that to really seal the deal i'll do One Last Binge/One Last Day Without Getting Out Of Bed/One More Pulling A Sickie From Work and after that i will get up in the morning and everything will be perfect", and then that doesn't magically happen, so you do it again the very next day, and before you know it you've eaten a whole 5 pack of tesco bakery cookies every day for the past 6 months and none of your jeans fit anymore and you feel worse than you did when you started. i would blame this partly, but not entirely, on the fact that right at the very moment when my mental health started going down the can in spring 2015 (oh my god. almost ten years of this. fucking hell) and i pulled an all timer of a rejection sensitive dysphoria breakdown that caused a genuine schism that saw half of my sixth form friend group drop me (i don't blame them; i WAS being a massive manipulative downer cunt, to be fair), a little artist by the name of marina and the diamonds dropped a little promo single for her upcoming album called "forget". which is, of course, all about having a big dramatic Starting Over moment. every time i listen to it i picture freshly 18 year old alix in the living room eating a truly unholy number of creme eggs in one sitting and promising herself that this would be the moment everything turned itself around. as my next answer will attest, it quite clearly wasn't. but to be fair, the song still fucking goes

22. name a song that reminds you of one of your best memories

in 2017 i was horrendously depressed, on the verge of repeating a year at uni, had very few irl friends, was staying in bed and binge eating all the time, and the one thing keeping me going was my musical exploits, including performing in a student written musical (we will not discuss any parallels with my life at present). i also, and this is vital, had a FAT crush on one of the creative team, who (like most of my crushes) was a beautiful waiflike dorky twink of a man who i'm fairly certain was actually gay. one time i got invited over with him and several other cast members to watch the princess bride in one of their rooms while predrinking to go out clubbing: i got several diet coke bottles, topped each one up with about four shots of vodka, and got so drunk while watching the movie (it was the first and only time i ever watched the princess bride) that hand on heart, to this day, i could not tell you a single fucking thing that happens post-rodents of an unusual size. i also don't really remember being in the club, but i think that's because it was a largely unremarkable night out (for the reference of my small but vocal cohort of fellow oxford alumni on here, this is because we went to bridge, and i will die on the hill that this is a grossly overrated and deeply boring club). the one thing i do remember is the walk to the club, cutting, on a winding route, through the streets of oxford at 10:30pm in late winter. it was dark, and clear, and a little bit cold, and along the way we stopped at sainsbury's to grab more tinnies that none of us needed so that we could keep predrinking on the way. i was walking in step with the boy i liked, silently beseeching him and the universe as a whole to give me a sign that something was going to happen between us. and somewhere along the line - i don't know if we heard this song blasting from a pub, or somebody else's room in a different college as they prepared for their own night out with their own friends, or if it was just a pure act of spontaneous whimsy - the whole group of us started belting, comically out of tune considering the number of us who actually went on to pursue music and theatre as our actual professional careers, rule the world by take that. and as we hit the chorus, the boy put his arm around my shoulder, and as far as i know it was always a completely platonic gesture, but in that specific moment i felt like maybe, just maybe, there was a glimmer of hope glinting for me in the distance, and if i kept collecting moments like this i might begin to have a life that felt like something real and precious and worthy of actually existing in.

[starfxkrinc]

Hi, hope you’re doing okay, I came from twitter after seeing some of your posts and wanted to say that I used to be friends with Teo back then (if you scroll down her instagram before 2019 you’ll find me, because I’m then the only one she stops posting with/about in the friend group after 2020), we stopped being friends after some us in the group gave her advice she didn’t like about her relationship with him because she would start arguments over the smallest things then come crying to us about it only to go back and start it all over again. He tried to end things a couple of times, but she would beg him she’d do better, and as a friend it was horrible to watch. I don’t feel bad saying though that because of how they met, and because she knew he was a one of the top 5 on the call sheet, her gripe with him now is simply annoyed he stayed with the other girl after he became “famous”, she really romanticised that life with him (dating a white boy actor) and wanted to hold onto it as tightly as she could. She also got off with my boyfriend at a birthday party 2 days after she cut me off because she’s just that kind of bitch, so she can’t really have a leg to stand on in this situation either 👀👀

letting u know this 100% corroborates some other info i never posted down to a T so i really believe u bc u would have no knowledge of what the other person said lol

[as8bakwthesage]

My Experience With Lily Orchard + Fuck Her

Now, if those of you who know me or have been following me for a while will know that I used to be a massive Lily Orchard fan. I used to support her, I defended her, and I was once a member of her patron even.

I’ve heard stories from people, former friends, former fans, about how much of a manipulating and nasty bitch she is. At best, she’s lashed out at fans for drawing innocuous fanart and for bringing up topics in stream that she doesn’t approve of (I’ve been there, I’ve seen it), and at worst she’s a lying abusive cunt who can’t help but make people around her miserable.

And while I’ve not been the subject of Lily’s abuse, I have been witness and bore the blunt of her passive aggressive horseshit, her manipulating situations to make me appear like a cunt for daring to correct her on an opinion of a book she never fucking read, her shamelessly putting me on blast in one of her videos where she insinuated I was stupid for asking a question about LGBT+ rep, for telling me and other fans to stop talking when we tried to defend our positions in chat.

I’ve had to walk on eggshells around her because I feel like every word I say or anything I do will be seen as an attack on her despite me being a fan of hers for literally fucking years and she knows this. I’ve been a fan of hers since I was 15-16 and I’m 22 now. With no other content creator have I felt the need to be so fucking careful of what I say.

And when I sent her an ask telling her that her yelling at others on stream for seemingly no reason was actively triggering me (mind you, in the nicest way possible because I couldn’t hurt Ms. Orchard’s feewings oh nuuuu) she ignored my ask. Do I have proof she saw it? No. Is she a large enough content creator that she receives so much interaction/asks on her tumblr that my ask got swallowed? Also No.

If you’re a Lily Orchard fan, I am not a needless hater, I am not a stalker or a troll or a bigot. I’m a transgender and biromantic/asexual person myself who is Native and actively participates in activities regarding my tribe and culture. I’m white passing like Lily is. I used to be a fan of hers for fuck’s sake and an active one too.

But here’s the thing - she’ll suck you in with her bold commentary and criticisms and some of it is genuinely really thought provoking and interesting. On the outset she has a “no tolerance for abusers” policy and she’s charismatic to an audience of teenagers who were being abused. Fuck, she helped me realise I was being abused and when the Toonkritic shit came out, that slowly started to help me realise I was being groomed by my exe (TheHauntedReader)

I convinced myself for the longest time that just because Lily wrote “Stockholm” that it didn’t mean anything. That all of her weird takes and opinions were just a quirky “haha i did this in my youth and i regret it” moment. But this isn’t 13-year-old me writing weird fanfiction between an adult and a child when I didn’t fucking know any better and was being actively groomed and abused, this was an adult who wrote CP and romanticised it and tried to get away with it and who should have known better!

And once you are a fan of hers, it’s hard not to become emotionally invested, especially if you’ve always seen her behaviour as normal, which I did. A lot of her fans are abuse/trauma survivors and she knows that. So many of us have confided to her that she helped us realise we could be happier and that we could escape. That we were more than our abuse. These are powerful things to talk about.

But she doesn’t care about us. Never has. Never will. She convinced me and has convinced others that us asking her stupid/silly questions is damaging to her. That it’s caused her so much emotional damage and stress that she can justify lashing out and verbally abusing her audience, y’know - the people who gave her a career. By her own admission, she hates us, but expects our support when she’s being harassed??

Girl, fuck off.

But that is just my own experience. I’ve seen some shit in the past couple of days that I can’t unsee and I encourage you all to look into it because it’s such a dark hole that the phrase “stare into the abyss for too long and it stares back” is what I feel like right now.

And I know why I feel like this - I invested energy and money and emotions into this woman and her channel. I’ve supported her. And no, Lily, this is not about me wanting to be your friend. It’s about me asking for some fucking decency as someone you at least know of and at most you know supported you? To not lie and misrepresent what I’ve said and then vaguepost about me?

Have I made mistakes? Yes. But that’s no excuse to berate and yell at people who have only asked stupid questions or fuck, even made goddamn harmless jokes??

Also, if fans/friends of Lily’s are harassing @asunnycoffee you guys are the fucking worst. Don’t fucking attack my friend you raging cunts. I have a couple ideas of who you might be, but I know you won’t air out your dirty laundry with me, Ginger.

You guys are pathetic.

Lily doesn’t care about her fans, she doesn’t care about her friends, and she’s certainly not going to start anytime soon.

[shitswiftiessay]

ALSO another thing that I can’t stop thinking about: if swifties are right and joe never loved taylor and just tolerated her all those years then why the fuck did it take taylor SIX years to figure that out? why would taylor stay with a guy who supposedly couldn’t stand her all those years. is she stupid? i certainly don’t think so. she’s supposedly such an emotionally intelligent person (according to swifties anyway). so why did she stay with a man who didn’t like her and made her miserable all those years?? you really think taylor was “led by blind faith” all those years? what a pathetic view you must have of her.

i’m so fucking tired of swifties and their constant victim narrative surrounding taylor. she is not only a grown ass woman but she’s incredibly rich and incredibly powerful. she also has more security than the goddamn president. if she was truly miserable or god forbid held hostage in the basement as many swifties claim, she could’ve ended it much sooner. she’s also had plenty of experience with relationships, good and bad ones, and if she’s really unhappy in a relationship, then she knows how to end it.

she obviously loved joe as you can see from all those songs she wrote so why are you so fucking desperate to paint him as this HORRIBLE man? why are you shitting on taylor’s judgment? just because he didn’t publicly scream from the rooftops that he’d die for her means he never loved her? just because he isn’t a clout chasing narcissist like that one football player who drops her name every 3 seconds? fuck off.

but hey, if you REALLY wanna start judging relationships by songs, let’s look at how much SHE sounds like the problem in certain songs: stay stay stay, renegade (being an unsympathetic bitch), afterglow, the great war (both songs about accusing him of cheating when he didn’t, knowing she hurt them, and then romanticising it in songs) bejeweled (threatening to cheat), false god “daring you to leave me just so i can try and scare you,” even that line in ME! is a red fucking flag, telling your partner that no one will ever love them like you do is a tactic used by abusers.

i am NOT claiming that taylor was abusive, for the record. but DAMN, if we’re going to hyper analyse song lyrics then we can certainly look at them in a way other than your biased “taylor is perfect and can can do nothing wrong ever” perspective.

i mean the woman literally said “it’s me, hi, i’m the problem it’s me” but swifties are incapable of having a nuanced view of adult human relationships. sometimes things just don’t work out and it doesn’t mean that anybody has to be a villain. swifties always want to make it to where taylor is always a VICTIM of all her exes and every ex is always a MONSTER. it’s all so fucking tiresome, and it’s a very childish way of thinking.

and if it really makes you so sad to listen to those songs taylor wrote about joe then maybe you should try listening to someone other than taylor for once.

[scribblesbyavi]

They thought love is all about the rush of emotions and feelings that they can’t control. To dive deep into a sea of unknown and let it drown them to the depths.

“I don’t care if I fall.”

“I don’t care if I die.”

To love someone else before yourself and not knowing your own worth. To romanticise life and love and heartbreaks.

“I don’t care if I’m hurt.”

“I don’t care if I’m broken.”

They forget that everything from their emotions to their thoughts take birth in them. These feelings come from us and they shouldn’t be controlling us and our actions.

We can’t live in a different time.

We can’t love the idea of someone or a what if situation.

That sometimes we have to stop living a fairytale. Because we exist here, in the present.

Love is beautiful when it’s real.

Love is the light and it doesn’t make you blind.

I’ve seen relationships being made, being broken, being lived for years, built with love and care in front of me. The ones that are mutual and true never leave their loved ones halfway. At least not willingly. It’s always the case that when you make something it can also break. There will always be the potential of a loss, of a heartbreak but you still take a step, a step ahead.

“The leap of faith.”

Where does this come from? Isn’t this the most important thing to go forward in life with someone? Isn’t it the core?

It is when something is built with trust and not sand. It is when you know that you’re being valued. When you know that you’ve worth in the relationship. When you’re equally important. There’s love as well as respect. Because just attention and grand gestures is not enough.

Many connections show up in life but we don’t quite feel it until we feel it. We can’t explain it. We can’t define it.

We understand that healthy communication is the key.

And a match in energy level creates the magic.

Love doesn’t have to be stressful. Life already has many problems that we have to deal with, love doesn’t have to be one.

Love must feel like the warmth in cold mornings.

Love must feel like a cool breeze during the summers.

Love must make things a bit easier and us, happier. Just the sense of having someone by our side must feel like a blessing, a gift from the almighty or the higher power.

Because true love has to be an energy filled with positivity, something that makes our soul smile. Because when we have to deal with negativity and toxicity we are being grabbed by demons that screw our heads, and make life a living hell, a life filled with bad energy which takes us away from everything and makes us forget who we actually are.

May be love only comes with maturity.

May be love only comes after you know what’s not love.

When the mind is calm.

When the soul is at peace.

And one day it will come, till then you’ve to know your worth. ✨

avis 🕊️

[8musing]

I actually don’t want to know about politics and world events anymore but I also think ignorance dangerous.

It feels like everything is crumbling around us— and that’s a good thing. Sometimes you gotta make a big mess so you can clean properly. It’s just scary and painful as a young person cause it feels like one crisis after another. It’s the elusive nature of security. Makes the future scary as fuck.

Like, Millenials and Baby Boomers live with their parents rn. As a Zoomer (😂😂😂), will I be able to afford to own my home? If yes, how many of us will get to experience that?

I’m not interested in the romanticisation of exceptionalism and individualism. I don’t want a fucking mansion if my cousins can’t even afford a regular house in a nice area of the hood, let alone a suburb. I don’t want to be an example of how “hard work” awards you having your basic needs met when my peers and literally everyone else is experiencing the brutality of systemic oppression.

I wanna take it a step further and call it systemic enslavement. Cause that’s what the fuck it is when people are too exhausted by trying to get their basic needs met, they’re under-educated, underfed, stressed and are part of communities that are in crisis so they can’t see things clearly for what they are.

My people could herald SO much change and improvement in our country. We’ve done it before. We strategised, organised and fought our way to democracy. We whooped them wh*te folks asses many times over when they first got here😂 I think our issue is that we can’t organise as effectively as our foremothers and forefathers did.

I won’t get into the all why’s rn cause I stopped braiding my hair to write this😂

[missingdragonflies]

BRAIN PACE 

Breaking News: Your mind and body don’t get along!

Is everything happening in your head so fast and so many times that the actions get compromised? You procrastinate? 

Your brain is constantly showing off to all your other limbs and organs how fast it is, that everything else gets disheartened. It’s time to show the show off who is boss. 

A theory: half of our issues (at least productivity issues) could be solved if we face and modulate our brain’s pace. 

For example, when we manage to get onto a project, and get into the mood to do it (it takes six months to a year to get here sometimes), our brain then gets into overdrive. You are knocking it out on the laptop, breaking it down in the shower, losing sleep or not sleeping and then some. It’s out of control and takes over. 

Then we slump. Procrastinate. The rest of the limbs and organs are out for revenge. What could you possibly do if we don’t move? We protest. Whenever we can.

The thoughts, ideas, all cascade downwards to die. You stop. Exhausted. You are paralysed. 

Of course you are. Your mind and body aren’t friends. They are competing and you side your mind in this squabble between your two children. 

I am proposing a sweet unison. Don’t mistake this for your brain’s dictatorship moments when you have achieved something. I am proposing a constant. Something perhaps athletes know about or have figured. I don’t know. 

Aren’t you tired of fluctuating between thinking about the next project to not doing anything about it. Just spurts of being on a high, intense productivity. 

We aren’t stupid. We know the excitement the action brings. We also know the snug pillow and a hot coffee in bed. How then, do we also know the feeling of mentally doing things and sometimes multiple times without moving a limb. Verbatim - we have had conversations with clients. Perhaps taking up more time compared to actually doing it. Visually - we can see the deck, the video, down to the track. We can hear it. All sorted out in our heads. And the mind keeps blaming the body. You do too. Lazy. Useless. 

I am saying, let’s try controlling the mind. While we task our bodies, we hardly ever task the mind. “Calm down” and “Stop thinking” is as good as saying, “Run,” “Jump.”

While you may be lazy, your mind is getting boisterous, threatening the rest of your body. You think a thought and then an essay, you journal it in your head. Words flow non-stop. You can’t always write it down. Your mind hisses, ‘if you don’t it’s gone. You useless shit. Don’t do anything. You will never be a writer.”

You don’t enjoy your lounging, you don’t write. 

Our mind will always work faster than the body. Sure. One sprints, the other marathons. The problem: our mind and body are out of sync. We mess up most conversations, make all these errors, skip words because our brain pace is getting ahead of us. Even now as I write, it is. Perhaps the brain is also out to throw some punches for the lack of action. 

In the end, the soul suffers. 

Here is how this might work; at least for productivity. The next time you are writing, reading, or talking to that vendor in your head, you pause and romanticise whatever it is you are doing. Lather, rinse, repeat. Music on the tube. Smell the air. And when that little birdie in your head pecks and tells you ‘the idea will disappear, the flow will go, you are so angry, this will be the end of your career,’ say I CONTROL YOU. Both of you. If I can make this body run, I can make this mind pause. 

I will face this track and jot things down when I am ready, so you better save it for that. Brew some more, keep it in a pressure cooker, and when I am ready for all the goodness, I will pop it open. 

Your thoughts, your ideas, your pace. You are in control. Remember, “not ready right now, in a minute.” No threats. No tantrums.  

I thought of the brain pace and aligning it to all my other organs while in the shower. The idea was in my head, while I could physically do nothing about it expect wear it out, over play it or rush my shower for fear of losing my journal entry for the day. 

None of that happened. 

I took a much longer shower. Didn’t think about it as much as I could. Distracted myself. More words flew out. 

Pace your mind. Rush your body. No favouritism. 

Regards,

Your Soul

[kse22chili]

I thought I was going to forget about him, but somehow he always comes to my mind. Specifically today. I’ve thought of him, so many times, that I’m really close to jumping out of the window.

Weirdly, we had a favourite song in common. Guess what song? “i was all over her” by salvia palth.

Ridiculous innit? Very much so.

Listen, he was a tremendously basic guy who loved fucking around and doing drugs. I’ve got nothing against it, but like when you do smth don’t brag about it. On god y’all, when he’d start bragging about the spliffs or blunts he’d do every hour, I would fall in a mental crisis. Bro was an attention seeker. And did I give him attention?

Nope.

Now, let’s leave all the poetic stuff. I’m already pissed the freak off. Guys think that girls are attracted to them doing drugs or smoking stuff or drinking bs or i don’t even know man, doing stupid shit. When in reality motherfucker, I personally think you all are toxic as fuck.

Listen, if I do blunts, I do them and I don’t say shit to anyone. Cause I’m doing it bc I want to do it. Like, first of all, I’m doing them in secret. How the fuck does it even come to mind to tell somebody else what you just did? Do you get me? As in, bruv you do drugs? Perfect, cool, good for ya. Whaddaya want me to say to ya? “Oh darling you’re so amazing! You’re giving a great example to all your friends, and you’re being really healthy to me. Truly spectacular! Your talent of doing drugs will help you achieve your goals in life! Go on like this!” or do ya want me to say “Oh daddy! You are so hot! Please give me the blunt so I can take a hit too while you’re pounding me in the ass!!!!”

Like ew. Ew man. Ew boy.

I just hate how we are totally focusing our attention to unnecessary stuff instead of fighting for what is really worth fighting for. There are important things to focus on. Like where we live in, the people we live with, what we do etc. Why can’t we focus on improving our body language and our behaviour towards other people? For example, trying to stop the trend of embracing overrated “emotions” like anxiety, for starters.

The four main emotions are “mad, glad, sad and scary”. All the other “emotions” are a mix of two of these main emotions.

What does that mean? It SHOWS us that we need to focus more on these four emotions. Because, how are we going to improve our performance in “feeling better” or “fixing ourselves” without first of all acknowledging these four main emotions?

We all go to the therapist and psychiatrist or psychologist for help. To try and “understand” what’s our problem. What are our problems? Do we have an issue? Oh! My therapist diagnosed me with social anxiety!

Now is it really fair to you to behave this way with your listeners or readers or idk watchers? Because we are all making psychological serious issues or problems into fucking normal ones. As in, people are romanticising problems. Instead of embracing them and finding a solution to it, we jump into ADVERTISING OUR PROBLEMS TO THE WORLD. (bc it’s super fun!!!!!!) (it’s all sarcastic btw)

This is all too funny to me.

We are all fucking puppets. And egoistical fucking monsters. There are real people that have gone through terrible trauma and they aren’t SPONSORING their life and problems bc they seek for attention and fame. There are people that, for this tiny opportunity that all the other egoistical worms have selfishly used, they would have left behind their own lives.

We always say how “life is unfair” or “life is such a bitch” but nah uh baby. You are such a bitch. You are unfair. Because YOU are making this society really unhealthy to the other people. We are destroying our lives. We are destroying our community. We are destroying our world. We are destroying our race. And we our destroying ourselves.

Aren’t we unfair?

Aren’t we such bitches?

This all thing doesn’t mean any harm. It’s all a thought provoking essay. Just a reflecting tiny writing. Creative let’s say.

Danke.

[hzltryingtowrite]

Sleepless in…Cassis?

I’m sitting in the shower because I don’t want to disturb Molly, who is asleep, with the sound of  the light or my keyboard. I’d be inclined to romanticise this scenario but actually I’ve just ended up with a wet arse.

Im sleep deprived, I didn’t sleep very well last night in Marseilles. There was also a Giant sitting beside me on the plane so I had to sit at an awkward angle the whole flight so now my neck hurts. He actually apologised for his legs- I felt bad for him, I hope I didn’t give off the impression that I was put out by his size- I certainly wasn’t thinking that. I wonder does he say it to every stranger he sits beside every time he takes a Ryanair flight. That would be kind of sad for him if that was the case. Sometimes I am grateful for having short legs. He sat scrolling through Instagram reels (offline somehow??) for the whole flight and laughing which was kind of endearing, but a baby a few rows behind us cried on and off and every time it started to cry he shook his head and said ‘oh my god’. I thought about saying well that baby can’t help crying, the same way you can’t help being a Giant. Well i didn’t think about saying it, I just thought it.

We walked a lot today-up a big hill covered in rich people’s mansions- we were trying to find a view of the sea but all their walls and tree borders cut off any possibility of this. Both our faces even got a little bit sunburnt. I think we might have been suffering in some way at one point because we both had two very strange moments within seconds of each other- I was telling Molly how I didn’t like the name ‘Fiachra’ anymore and it was because of ‘some annoying lad in my college’ before I stopped myself and remembered that Molly and I had both met at and gone to the same university and we often reminisced (commiserated) about people and events from that time. It was as if I’d entirely forgotten who i was talking to. Right after that, Molly tilted the water bottle she was carrying and my shoe scraped the ground and Molly thought the water had poured from the bottle even though the lid was tightly on and she stopped in her tracks and said ‘was there a splash?’. The proximity of two uncanny moments made it feel like there had been some kind of rift in the fabric of space and time. Or a glitch in the matrix. 

Ive noticed I experience deja vu more when Im tired and i feel a bit unsettled by the thoughts of what strange electrical activity is going on in my brain at those moments.  I think of some of the other strange things that happen when Im extremely sleep-deprived (I won’t say tired, because when I’m that sleep-deprived Im beyond a sense of tiredness and just feel more like a broken robot). Sometimes I get this feeling like I’m turning somersaults even though Im just sitting on a chair. Other times the walls shimmer and shake and then other times again when Im feeling very keyed up and anxious I hear invading aircraft and bombs being dropped in the distance. One night when i was a teenager I heard a strange and ominous sound in the sky outside and looked out and saw lights-  I ran outside into the street in a complete panic at an imminent alien invasion only to realise it was a Garda helicopter, searching the woods. 

I don’t think I was sleep-deprived or anxious then, I had just been reading about UFOs a lot. My dad even used to print out articles in work and bring them home for me.

I think I did see a UFO once. I was walking back from a cello lesson (I don’t play the cello anymore) and stopped at the green near my house to look up at the stars. Suddenly a star flew into my field of vision and did some loopdiloops, then disappeared suddenly, as if it had taken off into the distance. I remember being a bit frightened but also a bit excited. A book I was reading earlier had a paragraph about alien encounters and how they are a contemporary form of spiritual experience- impossible to deny their credibility but at the same time can be read as a means to rationalise inexplicable phenomena. I don’t really know what that UFO was supposed to represent to me at that time in my life but lately I do believe in attributing meaning to uncanny events. Maybe Im missing religion in my life. So, perhaps earlier Molly and I did actually tear a hole in the fabric of space time and now we are wandering an alternate dimension in Provence. We did see a dead toad in the sea which was very unusual. Later we went back and looked for him in the same place but he was gone. I like to imagine he was swallowed whole by a giant fish. I might go outside and look for UFOs. 

[veritasss5]

I truly understand your position and I want you to know that you and your gift of tarot reading is truly appreciated in this community. As well as all of the other readers. I agree that half/some people need to do self work and they base their self worth on relationships. But it is another half of us that aren’t young/freshly graduated. We’re in our 20’s and are already in our career, we’ve worked on self love, and are just ready for the next step. Some people I know in this community feel as if their purpose is to be a mom and have a family. And I believe we should respect that just like we do career women. I think life can be very disheartening and sometimes it feels like dreams won’t come true or people are running out of time. So, this readings give the mom a glimpse of the possibility. But they read them, and go on with their day. It doesn’t affect them one way or another. A lot of people ask for future spouse readings because they don’t need guidance on their career or self progress. They’re exactly where they want to be in life in those subjects.

I appreciate that you took time to express your point of view, which is quite refreshing to see, and now I understand why you made those points.

Pardon me that I lost a little bit in this conversation, but what are you trying to express? Defending the other half that I never mentioned or say that we shouldn’t stop doing fs reading because of the other half that I just called out? Good for some people that can find some glimpse of guidance and help, but I don’t think I said something against those that already have something in mind and they just want to have fun with fs readings? Fun is absolutely welcomed but with some degree of self control and don’t let these love readings get addictive.

Here is my point of view:

In reality I see more people that have insecurities in both love and career stuff plus lack of self work. The half that I am talking about are obsessively searching for external validation and love because they can’t find that love in themselves.

Let’s put this example: if someone managed to find their fs, do you think they are able to keep a healthy relationship with them while never addressing their traumas, issues, insecurities, etc? And then problems arise and the worst outcome is Y leaving X, and then they will ask the tarot readers questions like when they are gonna get back to their exes. And then the unhealthy cycle of bingeing tarot readings starts again, until they find that tarot reader that actually calls them out and tries to wake up X.

You said for some they look tarot readers as their mom or family figures, well the best way to describe me is I am that harsh and strict mom that wishes that in a harsh way to let people realise that what they are doing is not benefiting themselves.

You said that people don’t need guidance for career and work, well that applies only for a few in my personal view and experience. People tend to prioritise love because of how romanticised love is in this actual society. There is a whole discussion about it and I am gonna link it so you can take time to read since there are tarot readers’ opinions as well.

I just added that tarot readers should be first the one to have firm boundaries, so they can avoid to be frustrated.

LINK of the discussion mentioned.

Thank you so much for staying polite and civil instead of rushing to insult me without a concrete argument. I really appreciate that you took time and managed to read my point of view with respect as well♥️