I FOUND ONE OF MY OLD DIARIES FROM MIDDLE SCHOOL AND IT STARTS OUT “DEAR JOURNAL-CHAN”
someone write a superhero story where the lady in the ensemble gets fed up for not getting the respect she deserves so she becomes the villain and manages to beat up all her teammates and rules the world
This is what the cast of a Stonewall movie should look like, not what’s being cast.
These are just a few of the beautiful, incredible, unbelievably brave people who made our movement possible. Pay respect to the people who were involved in the Stonewall Riots by boycotting this planned whitewashed film about cis gay men and drag queens because it’s false and disrespectful to the trans women of color and the other extremely important marginalized groups that sparked the movement we have and benefit from today. Don’t allow this movie to further perpetuate the whitewashing of history and lies about who really was fighting in the Stonewall Riots.
you’d pretty much have to hold me at gunpoint to get me to put away all my laundry and even then i’m not sure i’d do it
if i ever see any of you in public, the code is
that way we know we’re from tumblr without revealing anything
IDK IF YOU KNOW ABOUT THIS WEBSITE YET, BUT I DON’T EVEN CARE IF YOU DO.
CHARAHUB BASICALLY ALLOWS YOU TO MAKE A DIRECTORY OF ALL YOUR OCS.
AND SO (they let you get super detailed)
It lets you store 100 characters (you gain 2 extra slots whenever…
It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the sound I heard when I was 9 and my father slammed the front door so hard behind him I swear to god it shook the whole house. For the next 3 years I watched my mother break her teeth on vodka bottles. I think she stopped breathing when he left. I think part of her died. I think he took her heart with him when he walked out. Her chest is empty, just a shattered mess or cracked ribs and depression pills.
It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s all the blood in the sink. It’s the night that I spent 12 hours in the emergency room waiting to see if my sister was going to be okay, after the boy she loved, told her he didn’t love her anymore. It’s the crying, and the fluorescent lights, and white sneakers and pale faces and shaky breaths and blood. So much blood.
It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the time that I had to stay up for two days straight with my best friend while she cried and shrieked and threw up on my bedroom floor because her boyfriend fucked his ex. I swear to god she still has tear streaks stained onto her cheeks. I think when you love someone, it never really goes away.
It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the six weeks we had a substitute in English because our teacher was getting divorced and couldn’t handle getting out of bed. When she came back was smiling. But her hands shook so hard when she held her coffee, you could see that something was broken inside. And sometimes when things break, you can’t fix them. Nothing ever goes back to how it was. I got an A in English that year. I think her head was always spinning too hard to read any essays.
It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s that I do."