I think about death everyday. And now you’re probably like wow, that’s sad! But I think it’s the opposite. I remember everyday that this all can be over soon and that’s why I enjoy every moment to the fullest. Thinking about death doesn’t mean I want to die, it means I want to live the best life before that day comes.
at the end of the day that man’s defenders have gone full qanon like it doesn’t matter what she says or how many photos of her bruises or the insane amount of property damage she has. it doesn’t matter that there are audio recordings of him screaming at her “you don’t exist” and telling her nobody will believe her or or admitting to head butting her or threatening to hurt himself while she begs him to stop. everyone jumped at the first chance to take their foot off this man’s neck so they wouldn’t have to face the reality that he’s a piece of shit and now they won’t see anything else. even the dumbass “mutual abuse” crowd refuses to acknowledge the way only one of them is being smeared and mocked relentlessly across the internet (and now on snl, apparently.) it doesn’t matter to them that her allegations against him were made in 2016, well before there was a mainstream metoo movement to “take advantage of”. it doesn’t matter! does anyone else feel like dying
actually the worst part is how many young people pride themselves on being “too smart” to fall for propaganda are the ones leading the online charge against this woman because they watched a tiktok “debunking” her claims
Coach Kerr said it all. The list of mass shootings is too long; 1,000s murdered.
Moment of silence. Thoughts & prayers. Rinse. Repeat. Nothing changes.
We’re not safe at school, work, houses of worship, malls, grocery stores & movie theaters. 27 school shootings have taken place so far this year. The U.S. has surpassed 200 mass shootings this year
After looking through some TOA things, I need to get something off my chest…
It’s kinda frustrating to see how divided this fandom is.
Ever since…well by yesterday three years ago, the fandom got so divided. Especially with all these opinions about Jim I found:
“They turned Jim into a troll?! I’m leaving the fandom”.
“I like just human Jim”.
It doesn’t matter to me what he is, he’s still Jim no matter what”.
“I like just troll Jim”.
“They turned Jim back into a human?! I’m leaving the fandom”.
Like jeeezzzzz after everything, it just frustrates me.
In my opinion, it makes me mad that some people are only gonna watch the movie to see if a different version of Jim will be in it! Tbh, that’d be so cool if there was a finale battle that all his forms were brought back for some scenes to do, but it makes me sad that some people only wanna watch it for that. I mean I know he most likely won’t turn back into a troll since it’d be just too much changing for one teen in a year or less, I mean I’d be making memes on them making up there mind, but it would be nice to see him again like that before the saga ends, but please don’t say that if that happens that’ll be the only good thing in the movie. The amazing writers and creators of this film put their hearts and souls into making this for you guys that know you love watching it as much as they loved making it. Maybe I’m just getting mad about this since I’ve watched Trollhunters since only a few weeks after season 1 was out and a lot of people didn’t know about it till a few months or years later, but that shouldn’t matter. There’s so many other things to look forward to other than the one thing some people may look at negatively. There’s somehow a new heartstone in Arcadia, Douxie’s magic looks like it’s upgraded some, they’re travelling to New York and maybe other places too, and Aja is the freaking queen of Akiridion-5 now! Those are just a few other things that sprang to my head writing this. This isn’t to offend anyone, this also isn’t about hate on any form, that’s not what this is about. I’m just saying, don’t let one thing that you didn’t like happen in a show, affect you watching something you’ve loved for years in a film that already looks like it’s going to be incredible to see. (If I misunderstood anything at all though, please let me know).
Tell me an inside joke between you and a friend, without context.
I beg of everyone to read the tags to this post, as they are all random and hilarious and read kind of like a poem, if the poem was written by someone who was on a lot of drugs.
Human life has always been so scary to me. Us humans we’re so fucking scary.
Someone can tell you ‘you can get used to any kind of lifestyle’ and you’d think ‘nah, i could never…’ but that’s not true, literally there’s nothing that you can not get used to. You get used to live in precarious conditions, you get used to live in horrible places or the nicest, you can get used to live without someone you love and thought you would always need.
It’s as simple as when a terrible thing happens to you and you think that time has stopped and you can’t breathe and you think that you won’t be able to carry the weight on your shoulders, but no, time don’t stop and you still breathe and you still walk, and laugh and wake up in the mornings. Life goes on and that’s the scariest thing I have ever learned.
It was never about the single grip for him. Everything needed to be countered and weighed, two points to fix it in place, a firm hold that offered no space for movement, no room to manoeuvre. He grabbed her neck and he grabbed her head, and she grabbed his hands, because where else could she hold? Where else would make sense?
She did what she did because he was who he was. He was the man who gripped twice, and she was the girl who was doubly held. There was something in that, a glimmer of a thought that made her look at him in a different light, although the hue was unclear. Perhaps it meant he cared twice as much, or that he was doubly controlling.
His thumb digging into the underside of her jaw. Fingertips pressing against her skull from behind, where her spine met her head. Finding her weak spots and pushing, so that she wanted to squirm, wanted to scream, wanted to fuck. Hands on his wrists turned into hands on his shoulders, and she tried to sink into him, lips against lips, but he was having none of it. His arms remained strong, stiff columns that she couldn’t budge. It made her feel helpless.
And when she felt helpless she started to get wet. It was a forceful surrender, each finger like the barrel of a gun, forcing her to her knees and into his capture. Even her mouth was not her own, with that thumb dictating when and where she could open it. Her voice taken away from her, locked behind the bars of her teeth. She moaned, and he stared down at her unapologetically.
Two hands, two points. He’d hold her between them later, one hand on each hip, both pushing inwards. He’d have a hand on her chest and another on her back, keeping her suspended between the ceiling and the bed, aided levitation. One hand against her cunt and the other against her rear. Two points. Never alone.
