or angry words

WE!! LOVE!! SADES!!!!!!


With everything that’s happened, both irl and with the anon, I think we should….


So, how about we all put our favourite memories/parts about rping and just knowing Sades.

@sarahsays @misscamillapoots @bookerundercover @jfc-darby @literally everyone

A few of mine

  1. “The two of them arguing over where to camp out. Ruby being like ‘no, the ground here is hard’ and Axel being like 'yeah it’s the ground. It’s all hard'” (we were talking about them going on a hike because of this ask and it was. Hilarious.)
  2. Her helping me through one of the toughest times I can remember, my nanna passing.
  3. Reading that she had a c h i l d and they were both healthy and happy.
  4. Literally reading anything she writes ever.

Some birds are not meant to be caged, that’s all. Their feathers are too bright, their songs too sweet and wild”  (Stephen King)

it bothers me when.. parents.. feel like you should excuse their rudeness, their ignorance, if they say “well at least i’m trying! i’m working on it! this is hard for me too, i didn’t sign up for this!”

first of all as a parent, you signed up for a gay kid, for a trans kid, for a disabled kid, for a mentally ill kid, when you decided to have a kid in the first place!

second of all, we are not your projects, we’re not something you can “work on” because, newsflash, we have feelings too!

and third, if you think for one second that this is somehow harder for you than it is for us? that your comfort is more important than our safety and wellbeing? you already failed as a parent.

I want to cry and scream until my lungs hurt or I run out of tears. I want to throw things until they break and punch walls until I can no longer feel my hands. I want to kick down my door or throw myself onto the floor until my body stops shaking. I have so many pent up emotions, anger, hurt, sadness, betrayal. I want to hurt everything because everything is hurting me.
—  but all i’m going to do is pretend that everything is fine ( 11:15 )

it’s actually insane that my brother can talk to my parents so disrespectfully to the point where it repulse’s me, yet he doesn’t get in any type of trouble

but god forbid i open my mouth ever and i get in trouble just for talking because, Apparently, it’s mean

no yknow what fuck the entire concept of virginity

  • fuck the idea that a woman is only good or worthy if she hasn’t had sex
  • fuck the idea that this one quality that can make a woman worthy can be “taken” from her by or “lost” by her to a man
  • fuck the idea that sex is a rite of passage for men but the end of innocence for women
  • fuck the entire gross fetishization of the ‘pure’ virgin female and the competition among men to be the one to 'ruin’ her
  • women are not a commodity for men to defile
  • we are not defined by the way men have or have not touched us
  • and we certainly do not need to deprive ourselves of intimacy and pleasure with people we feel close to just so that some day, some man might see us as more valuable for it
You think she’s undamaged, with her pale skin and too blue eyes, no scars for you to see. Seek deeper… We all crave relief, from pain, and relief comes far too easily with sharp silver and carved skin. She may not have scars for you see, but they’re there. She’s locked them in. For every time she doesn’t mark her skin, it tears her from the inside. For every time, the angry words and the equally angry tears, muffled by the pillow had to be enough; an invisible scar drew itself. Unseen scars are harder to heal, easier to conceal. For every scar she doesn’t have, she does. Go look.

It’s funny how even a centimeter of my cleavage showing
can get your attention while my whole fucking brain can’t.

It’s funny how you called me fat yet you wanted a few pieces
of that fat but only from my boobs and butt.

It’s funny how my bra strap showing could turn you on
and my intelligence couldn’t.

It’s funny how bits of my naked body were all you wanted
when all I could offer was whole of my naked soul.

It’s funny how a girl’s body intrigues you
but her heart and head doesn’t.

—  It’s funny that I am writing this for me but how it goes for many others too // JustScribbledWords
Day Four Hundred Twenty One.

You changed my life by being in the right place at the right time. 
In the same haphazard way, you managed to destroy it too.