you gotta be able to say "die"
you gotta be able to say "suicide"
you gotta be able to talk about "sex"
they're uncomfortable topics, YEAH for SURE
because LIFE is uncomfortable. Death and suicide and sex and pain are straight up going to happen. not having words for the way it discomforts you doesn't make it more comfortable, it just makes you less able to reach out about it.
even more vital, you gotta be able to say words like "rape", "abuse", "queer" or "racist". cause we fought fucking hard to name those experiences. to identify "rape" as distinct from "sex" and "racism" as distinct from "acceptable behaviour" and "queer" as distinct from "invert"
like the function of communication is not to minimise immediate discomfort. we gotta be able to talk about stuff that's hard or sucks or causes difficult conversations.
Some thoughts about Alastor's mom that me and my friends were brain rotting these days. Also some human kid Alastor too, I can't decide between wavy Alastor or curly Alastor, I think he looks cute with both ;w;
MAY THE FOURTH BE WITH YOU!!!! Created by George Lucas in/sp
ancient greek word of the day: κακοθερής (kakotherēs), unfitted to endure summer heat
thinking about your older bf!simon that cannot cope with being far from you.
when you’re in the shower, he’s sat on the lid of the toilet on his phone (watching those rug cleaning videos) enjoying your faint singing under the stream of water, the smell of your body wash on the cloud of steam- ready to pass you a towel or get your back.
when you’re at your desk, working from home or studying, he’s just on the other side of it reading the paper with one outstretched leg tangled with both of yours. he’s dead quiet when you’re on a call, just happy to be around.
when you’re doing laundry, collecting the clothes in the hamper and crouching to stuff them into the washer- turning around and accidentally colliding with a thick wall of muscle.
“sorry, love”
he steps aside but you can hear his soft footfalls as he continues to follow you throughout your home.
when you’re both watching something on the couch, what starts as his pinky locked with yours turns into his arm around your waist. that turns into your head on his chest, which culminates with you falling asleep in his lap with his cheek on your head and soft snores emanating from his lips.
when you grocery shop, you push the trolley but his chest is to your back, arms either side of you and hands clasped over yours on the handle. you can thank his military training for his uncanny ability to tell exactly when you’ll stop walking.
when he wakes up in the middle of the night, on a rare occasion when you’ve managed to slip out of bed without him realising, he’s immediately in a panic calling your name.
“in here, my love”
as soon as his heart settles, he realises the bathroom light was probably a dead giveaway. you’re taking a wee, you’ll be back in a minute.
that doesn’t stop a sleepy simon from leaning in the doorframe, shielding his eyes from the big light as he waits for you to finish up.
even on the short walk back to bed, you can feel fingers twisted in the back of your shirt- almost like you’re leading the way.
minute you’re both on the mattress, you’re being wrapped up in his arms, slotting you perfectly into the curve of his front- almost like you’re made for him.
(and you are)
i don’t think there’s anything funnier than saying “god forbid women do anything” in response to women doing the most objectively horrifying actions possible.
☆20 | She/Her | Tired | Just Poking Around☆ ◇Icon & Background Don't Belong To Me◇
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