i think i know who this is for

I’ve lived in this house for 6 years and still don’t know any of my neighbors names

I love being a lesbian

and girls were so pretty. there was the effortless girls who had the wide eyes, the freckles, the hair pulled back. who didn’t wear makeup and always wore a smile, who knew you needed help before you asked it; the sunshine and picnic girls, who you felt carried spring with them. and the mountaintop girls, strong bodies and fierce in their bones, drinking green tea and teaching you yoga, who watched you and made sure you ate well, who knew what it was to fight for a body that listened. and the soft heather girls who knew nature and spoke gently and would show you how to hear the light hitting a lake, who would listen no matter how long the story was and somehow know what to say. and the girls who were red moons, a dangerous flash of teeth and darkness, an excited wildness that came in black leather and spoke of nights you ache when you remember, who would look at you and pin you to a board for a moment, so that for once you felt important. and the summertime girls, wide smiles and makeup that never smudged, who could make you feel as if you lived inside a photograph, who brought the feeling of the fourth of july to every party, who convinced you to come to the party. and of course the rain girls, who didn’t need an explanation, but simply were, in a way that when you made eye contact with them you knew somehow about sorrow and also about the safety of staying home. 

and girls. girls in their sweatpants in the aisle of a supermarket looking lost. girls staring down their teacher, demanding the grade they deserve. girls with their hands on the wheel, with their hands passing lotion to another, with their hands in their hair. girls upside down on the couch and spine straight in business meetings and body curled around a book. girls who were upended libraries, who were railroads, who were a choir’s last note, who were carols, who were snow, who were a racing track, who glowed or who gave warmth or else sewed cold, who bit hard, who laughed loud, who fell asleep on trains, who rode bikes in rain.

and then there was you.

i found this and please just read hussies comments on vriska because im almost in tears i cant believe ive never seen this before…. shes my FAVE and i will eat up literally any commentary made abt her 

When I was about to launch into the Hivebent arc, I thought one cool opportunity that presented was to introduce a very major character out of nowhere, who we had literally no foreknowledge of other than one shot of a strange looking horn cropped off panel. The entire profile of this character was always meant to be “someone who is in some way involved with practically everything", and the scorpio sign seemed suited to this. This aspect of her profile was conveyed up front in her introduction, and hammered repeatedly with almost every scene she’s been in. Hivebent was a good introduction to the ways in which she entangles herself nefariously with everything, and slowly but surely, this has been revealed to be the case in the main plotline. It was unclear before, and indeed unclear that this was even a question that needed to be answered, because she had not been introduced yet. And personally, I think there's something kind of exciting which that proposition injects into a story.

Before Hivebent, most of the trolls were portrayed as incompetent at trolling. And when the roster was expanded, the question was begged: are any of these trolls any good at trolling? So part of her profile was also to serve as the ultimate troll. Karkat was an effective troll insofar as he was loud and angry and obnoxious, but that’s about as far as it went. Vriska was designed to be a good troll in the purest sense of the word. She gets people legitimately riled up. Both in the story, and even more importantly, outside it. There is no other troll, or really even any other aspect of Homestuck, which generates more debate. This was intentional, and continues to be. 

Glad to see other Comic Book Writers are also super leery of Nick ‘Imma Make Captain America a Nazi’ Spencer. 

6

Can you believe I actually sat down and lined this personally I can’t

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You can call an experience or relationship traumatic even if there’s no one you can/want to blame for what happened.

If you were traumatized by what happened, that impact is real even if it isn’t anyone’s fault. There are situations where everyone involved does their best with the information and abilities they have and someone still experiences trauma.

Abuse is not the only traumatic experience, just a common one. Not having your needs met for totally blameless reasons can be traumatic. Having your autonomy taken away by illness or other random chance can be traumatic. Many traumatizing experiences can happen when you’re utterly alone. Even ‘ordinary experiences’ can be traumatic in some contexts.

There’s no reason for trauma that’s ‘too silly’. If you’re traumatized, it’s not because you’re 'too sensitive’ and it doesn’t automatically mean you’re minimizing other people’s experiences.

You’re allowed to acknowledge your trauma. You’re allowed to look at experiences you’ve had through the lens of trauma. You’re allowed to grieve and process your traumatic experiences even if you don’t understand why they were traumatic or if similar experiences didn’t tramautize others you know.

You’re allowed to acknowledge how badly you were hurt even if you can’t point a finger at one person who hurt you.

I want Neil to be sitting on the couch while talking to Matt and Andrew just silently enters the room. He sits down and drapes his legs over Neil or something and Neil doesn’t react and just lets Andrew play with his hair or his fingers. Matt gapes and Neil doesn’t notice, he just keeps talking about Exy strategies.

9

I am a girl who loves my island/And the girl who loves the sea, it calls me/I am the daughter of the village chief/We are descended from voyagers/Who found their way across the world/They call me

I am Moana!