You Know What? The Loki Fandom Scares Me. Why? Because Half Of The Shit I've Seen Is Agonizingly Beautiful

The power of "Almost"

That heading sounds like the title of a She-Ra episode or a shitty breakup poem title, but... you guys.

She almost loved him.

It was almost enough.

They almost survived.

He almost died.

I almost gave up.

When you see it, REBLOG IT.

Depression Hotline: 1-630-482-9696

Suicide Hotline: 1-800-784-8433

LifeLine: 1-800-273-8255

Trevor Project: 1-866-488-7386

Sexuality Support: 1-800-246-7743

Eating Disorders Hotline: 1-847-831-3438

Rape and Sexual Assault: 1-800-656-4673

Grief Support: 1-650-321-5272

Runaway: 1-800-843-5200, 1-800-843-5678, 1-800-621-4000

Exhale: After Abortion Hotline/Pro-Voice: 1-866-4394253

If you ever want to talk: My Tumblr ask is always open.

Fran Lebowitz on writing

If your theme doesn’t scare you a little, it’s not deep enough.

Look, surface-level themes are cute and all “love conquers all,” “good always wins,” “believe in yourself”...but they don’t hit the jugular. The best themes crack you open. They dig into the uncomfortable, unresolved questions you’ve been avoiding. 

Why do we stay loyal to people who hurt us?

Is forgiveness selfish or selfless?

What does it mean to feel safe in your own skin?

If you’re writing something that makes you squirm a little, like something you wouldn’t casually bring up at brunch—that’s probably the real story you need to tell. And that’s also the story your readers need to hear. Vulnerability isn't a weakness; it's the damn foundation.

someday you will write the scene that makes it all worth it. keep going. future you is waiting

For those who have been asking about my writing schedule... it's about as erratic as my posting schedule, and susceptible to only occasional strokes of coherent thought that are either psychotic or genius. I could post like ten things in one hour one day and then be more dry than my ex's personality for the next week. Do not ask this of me 😭😭😭

The Legend of the Snow Tit

Yes, I am dead serious and you read that right.

So.

My nieces live in South Carolina with my sister and her partner, and they just recently had snow. There were less than three inches, but I swear on chocolate and Timothee Chalamet's immaculate jawline that these girls spent six hours STRAIGHT collecting snow from my sister's driveway, all of their cars, the gotdamn mailbox, and both of their neighbors' driveways for what ended up being 12 buckets, five gallons each, of snow.

They said that they wanted to build a snowman that was taller than me, so that we could get married before he melted because apperently their only criteria for my future husband is that he's taller than I am. Don't ask... kids are weird, and these ones specifically are very distressed that I, at 19 years old, have not gotten married and provided them with a male, boy cousin. They really wanted a brother, but my sister and her partner don't want anymore kids.

Anywah, I took the girls to the mall today and it was about 50 degrees, and the snowman was already on his last legs. His head was lost at some point, likely to the heat. When we came back, the entire torso had melted into a ball vaguely the size of a golf ball and I shit you not, my six year old niece's first comment was that "it looks like a giant boob sticking out of the ground."