Im Just A Girl - Blog Posts
I can tolerate the discomfort that comes from not being liked by others.
What I cannot tolerate is living out of alignment with my values and staying silent about things I care about just to make sure others like me.
I got yelled at for coming home from a bday at 11pm, the excuse? That im too distracted and not studying enough (lie)
Lana's new magazine⋆｡˚୨୧˚｡⋆ 𐙚 ₊ ⊹ ♡
Journal pages i made using old letters i found in a seconhand market⋆｡˚୨୧˚｡⋆.
"I'd rather not go back to the old house" (my dad's house)
"And now i know how Joan of Arc felt" (needing to prove myself constantly)
Born to be the protag of a cutesy magical girl shojo anime, forced to be Rodion Romanovich Raskolnikov
THATS FUCKING REAL?! OH GOD WHAT
OMFG I HATE OLD MEN PRETENDING TO BE TEENAGE GIRLS WHAT THE FUCK
When your friend invites you to hangout with them and their friends, but it’s awkward for you because you don’t speak and you’re socially awkward. So you distance yourself, and pray they notice. (They never do)
I need someone to care like this. I need someone to mourn me.
I JUST REMEMBERED THE MASTERPIECE THAT IS TENGAKU BY YUUYU FT KAGAMINE RIN I AM ASCENDING 🙏🏾
every few months i remember that I’m obsessed w vocaloid and get back into it for a few weeks and they’re the best weeks of my life, i will forever be a vocaloid girlie
lowk forgot i had tumblr…whoops
anyway, i was thinking about doing a new theme cs I’m slightly bored of this one 😓😓! i was also thinking abt writing fics, but i’m worried I wouldn’t portray the characters correctly. having other people read my work is terrifying to me, so there’s that too. i might spam post because I haven’t been on here in so long 😭
Heyy yall I'm alive lol this is my apology for ghosting yall😞 I've just been so busy with life lately. Anyways here's some spoiler and crumbs for the future chapters.
It was a story written in strands, cascading down your back—a tapestry of your neglect, woven in the soft, fraying fibers of childhood. Your hair had been impossibly long, Rapunzel-long (or near enough), a silent testament to years of being overlooked. There had been no one to brush it properly, to cut it neatly, or to care. So it grew and grew, unchecked and untamed, much like the chaos of your past.
When the day finally came that the scissors drew close, you shattered. They said it was to give you a neat appearance, to help you belong in a life that was new and different. But to you, it was like severing a piece of your soul, like tearing away the last shred of a self you barely understood. Your wails filled the room, raw and trembling, as their hands sheared through the weight of all you carried. They didn’t understand—the adults, the guardians, the well-meaning souls around you. To them, it was just hair. To you, it was every moment of neglect, every whispered plea for care that had gone unanswered. How could they not see?
Even as an adolescent, the shadow of that day followed you. A simple trip to the hairdresser became a daunting ordeal. You would sit there, clutching the arms of the chair, stammering and fumbling over your words as you tried to describe a haircut—any haircut—that would let you claim some control over the strands that framed your identity. Your mind screamed that it was just hair, but your trembling hands and racing heart told a different story.
And then there was them—your family, your supposed sanctuary. Dick and Damian in particular seemed to hold some unspoken reverence for the length of your hair. They liked it long, as it had been. They’d brush past you, their fingers ghosting along the strands, commenting on how it suited you, how beautiful it looked that way. They didn’t realize—or perhaps they did—that every time they admired it, they were admiring a relic of your suffering. They saw beauty where you only saw a scar.
The worst part wasn’t their ignorance. It was their insistence. When you begged them to let you cut it, to let you choose, your protests were dismissed as "tantrums" or fleeting whims. They didn’t understand—or wouldn’t listen—that this was your way of reclaiming what had been stolen from you. Each time they disregarded your pleas, it felt like you were being dragged backward into a past you desperately wanted to escape.
To them, it was just hair. To you, it was a chain. And every time they ran their hands through it, commenting on how soft it was, or how well it suited you, they unknowingly tightened that chain, leaving you to wrestle with the ghosts of a life you never asked for.
Dick liked it, in his eyes it was his way of caring for you. But under his muttered words he knew that it was because he liked the pleasure of treating you like a doll. His eyes dilated and his smile widening every time he brushes your hair and inserts little daisies across the smooth strands of your luxurious hair while he ignores your yapping (begging). Meanwhile Damian shares the same opinion he's less controlling. In a way that he'll let you trim it in summer, just enough for his satisfaction. But that doesn't mean he isn't as possessive as dick.
Lmao imagine the rest of batfam watching dick and Damian with wide eyes as you thrash and scream at their face like a feral little kitten while they ignore you as they dress your hair.
FREEBIE for someone on discord<333 @madame-mango RAHHH
Everyone I talk to disses Sevika’s new haircut. Isn’t it exactly the same just not pushed back and a little shorter? Like remember- it was bob cut in the first place but she styled it. STOP THE DISSING PLEASE THATS MY WIFE RIGHT THEREEEE 🗣️‼️‼️‼️
god i love pathetic men
I had the best Valentine's Day with you. I truly don't deserve you. You are so wonderful and caring and you have shown me sweetness and love. I have never met anyone like you. You are perfect and I cannot believe I had the honor of being your valentine. 💘
Mewing as amethyst from Steven universe
Pictures from when I went to see the gay hedgehogs
