a soft touch

[multamusa]

do u love –

            very serious & totally grammatically correct latin urls?

do u love ppl who are very obviously taking their AESTHETIC very SERIOUSLY?

                                                         ṮḧḕṆ ḃḭṮḉḧ ṳ ṙ ḠṏṆṆḀ ḶṏṏṏṏṼḕ ṁḕ

independent & private multimuse written with love n’ care by avory  including oc’s & canon characters from chilling adventures of sabrina, practical magic, bojack horseman, postcards from the edge, sharp objects, & more!!! ;)

[multamusa]

do u love –

            very serious & totally grammatically correct latin urls?

do u love ppl who are very obviously taking their AESTHETIC very SERIOUSLY?

                                                         ṮḧḕṆ ḃḭṮḉḧ ṳ ṙ ḠṏṆṆḀ ḶṏṏṏṏṼḕ ṁḕ

independent & private multimuse written with love n’ care by avory  including oc’s & canon characters from chilling adventures of sabrina, practical magic, bojack horseman, postcards from the edge, sharp objects, & more!!! ;)

[valtsv]

calling ur dad “my father” is just the socially acceptable way of saying “my dads a bastard and i hate him”

[gayserblast]

Same goes for ‘My mother’

If you meet someone and they call their parents ‘father’ and ‘mother’ they either were raised in an Amish community or have absolute bastard parents

[bitterdollie]

me: feels emotion related to trauma brain: D I S S O C I A T E 

[flospughsadadad-deactivated2021]

Sharp Objects “Dirt” 1.02 | “Ripe” 1.04

[idsellyouforonegrape]

Camille:

Also Camille, 24/7:

[amazingamyadams]

[pcisonweaned]

hi i’m slow here because i’m playing musical chairs but with jobs

[pcisonweaned]

❝ anger is a bitter lock. but you can turn it. ❞

women have only two choices in this life: to fuck or be fucked. camille gets fucked. she always has. adora calls her willful, calls her spiteful, calls her incorrigible, and maybe she is but she’s still getting fucked. amma though, camille can tell, is the kind of girl who fucks.

it’s a terrible thing to think of. she’s only a little girl. 15. she can’t even vote, can’t even get her driver’s license. she still plays with dolls. but she wields her womanhood like a spiteful goddess. aphrodite must have looked like a girl too. maybe even younger than amma, disgusting as the ancient greeks were.

camille turns to face her, tries to assess. amma is nothing like marian and camille can’t help but resent her. bratty, demanding, spiteful, reveling in her prettiness as it keeps her well-liked…but camille admires it. envies it. amma has control and that’s what she’s telling camille now, isn’t it? stop crying and do something for shit’s sake. “what do you have to be so angry about, amma?”

[fossaed]

ANNE CARSON SENTENCE PROMPTS

i.   quotes taken from various prose by anne carson. adjust as necessary.

❝  as long as you want, and all that you want.  ❞

❝  i am someone who did not die when i should have died.  ❞

❝  i remember exactly how i thought life would be.  ❞

❝  why are you so in love with things unbearable?  ❞

❝  i conversed with you in a dream.  ❞

❝  lie down and tell me about it.  ❞

❝  humans in love are terrible.  ❞

❝  desire is no light thing.  ❞

❝  your bitter heart heals my heart.  ❞

❝  gods are stubborn. so am i.  ❞

❝  memory is exhausting.  ❞

❝  anger is a bitter lock. but you can turn it.  ❞

❝  beauty of the heart and the mind are things that are cultivated.  ❞

❝  you cannot make me stop thinking.  ❞

❝  some conversations are not about what they’re about.  ❞

❝  but you know none of us is pure.  ❞

❝  there is something maddeningly attractive about the untranslatable.  ❞

❝  what chance do we have for a bit of attention?  ❞

❝  but dreams have ensavaged me.  ❞

❝  you are in pain, so what?  ❞

❝  love does not make me gentle or kind.  ❞

❝  my mind is burning.  ❞

❝  girls are cruelest to themselves.  ❞

❝  i wanted to know you.  ❞

❝  i do not want to be a person. i want to be unbearable.  ❞

❝  i will do anything to avoid boredom.  ❞

❝  i am interested in anger.  ❞

❝  not ashamed to say i loved him for his beauty. as i would again.  ❞

❝  this would be hard for you if you were weak, but you are not weak.  ❞

[tesb]

I get it, Camille, you can’t just sit with me and have a drink. I get it. So, why don’t you do me a favour and help me with the case, okay? Educate me about Wind Gap, because I’ll be honest with you, I can’t quite get a handle on it.

[pcisonweaned]

hi! this is a PLOTTING CALL. plz like for me to slide into ur dm’s ;)

[fruitsaladchewits-deactivated20]

well, well, well, if it isn’t the feelings i’ve been trying to avoid 

[whatsongisit]

Visit Original Link

Song of the Day:

alt-J’s “Left Hand Free” off their album, “This Is All Yours”.

Hey Shady Baby, I’m hot Like the prodigal son. Pick a battle; Eenie, Meenie, Miney, Moe Hey flower, you’re the chosen one.

[pcisonweaned]

she talks funny. most actresses do, camille’s noticed. the letters crisp as freshly laundered bed linens; starched t’s and wrinkle free d’s. there is the whisper of a smile, it makes camille’s eyes a little lighter as she decides that not only is she interested in but she also likes trish walker. she talks like the heroine of a black and white movie. wistful and wet-eyed looking out at the sea. her sister tries to kill her later in the film. for money or something. one of those terrible sad ones where women are forced to be hookers.

“it does.” camille agrees quietly without much else to say. she isn’t one for flowery speeches but trish can’t be expected to do all the talking and so she adds, “i’ve always liked the rain.” except against her skin. it makes her buzz.

that almost hurts her feelings. tenacious. it’s a compliment, of course. tenacity in the real world is an admirable quality. she is willful, headstrong. she’s taken all her demons to task and come out more or less victorious. how many people can say that? adora spent so long using it as an insult. tenacity, after all, is why she never loved camille. it was tenacity that kept her from swallowing rat poison — she’s spiraling. one thought piggy backing onto the other, none of them fully formed or even quite related. she tries to smile. it does not reach her eyes. “mh, thank you?” small cock of the head.

”i’m usually on the police beat,” she admits. honesty is meant to put your interviewee at ease. confide to inspire confidence, trust. it also feels good sometimes. in small doses. “this is a deviation for me. i think...they only assigned me on account of —“ us both having had nervous breakdowns. “the fact that i’m a woman.” a small shake of the head, she considers her cup of coffee rather seriously. “i just want to make sure i get things right.” she finally takes a sip.

she is a little self conscious of her accent, of her strange hybrid southern mid-westernness around someone who is so distinctly coastal. she wonders, off hand, of what trish might think of a place like wind gap. “so — trish,” this is the transition. classic. it feels very professional, very journalistic. “why chicago?”

[screenshotsofdespair]

[pcisonweaned]

the sky is a a soupy, threatening grey. the clouds hang thick and low and seem to dull the day. they make the grass less green, camille’s hair less red, what would be an otherwise dizzyingly blue sweater turns the powdery shade of a baby boy’s room. camille likes days like these. cliche, maybe, but she’s always grateful for autumn. cool, gloomy, a perfect excuse for melancholy.

camille is leading trish walker across the grass, over to a quiet place to talk. secluded. after their last interview camille has determined both of them a little too sensitive to the stimulation of a starbucks. it had been too brightly lit, too full of smell and sound. there had been too many other people to watch. over trish’s shoulder a child had kept peeking over the back of his chair at her. camille could hear a man in a suit arguing snapping at the barista over forgetting his wallet.

she can only remember trish’s face. that blankness in her eyes, the anxious wringing of hands white and fluttery as birds. she has an impression of trish. broad and vague and certainly enticing. fascinating in a way she hasn’t found anyone in a long time.

there was, of course, the general appeal. everyone loves to talk about formed child stars. it’s so sad. she was such a pretty little girl or thank god she grew into that nose, huh? we build them and break them and spend the rest of their lives bemoaning their brokenness. britney spears and amanda bynes and lindsey lohan and trish walker. worshiped for their pristine, model girlhood selves and abandoned the moment they became fuckable women.

trish walker is surprisingly articulate, intelligent, quiet, straight-laced. she seems well adjusted. if it weren’t for the fact that she’d had a very public nervous break camille might not have even looked hard enough to pick up on her neuroses. camille drops into the grass rather gracelessly, only by the grace of god does her coffee go unspilled. she draws a knee up to her chest, sticks the other out straight. she watches trish sit beside her rather intently. she tells herself that this is her job, after all. “is this all right? i wanted some place private enough. the coffee shop was a little crowded for me,” but mostly for trish. camille had noticed, “a little...over stimulating.”