In another world. It was a dream. Do you think she could have loved me?
“When I was in college, a teacher once said that all women live by a ‘rape schedule.’ I was baffled by the term, but as she went on to explain, I got really freaked out. Because I realized that I knew exactly what she was talking about. And you do too. Because of their constant fear of rape (conscious or not), women do things throughout the day to protect themselves. Whether it’s carrying our keys in our hands as we walk home, locking our car doors as soon as we get in, or not walking down certain streets, we take precautions. While taking precautions is certainly not a bad idea, the fact that certain things women do are so ingrained into our daily routines is truly disturbing. It’s essentially like living in a prison - all the time. We can’t assume that we’re safe anywhere: not on the streets, not in our homes. And we’re so used to feeling unsafe that we don’t even see that there’s something seriously fucked upt about it.”
Jessica Valenti (via aquarie)
#TW: RAPE #I WAS SHOPPING WITH MY BROTHER LAST WEEK #IT WAS DARK OUT #I WAS ON AUTOMATIC PILOT #AND I DID MY NORMAL #CHECK THE BACKSEAT AS I WALK TO THE DOOR #THEN IMMEDIATELY LOCK THE DOOR #AND HE WAS LIKE #DUDE WHAT’S WITH THAT? #I DIDN’T KNOW WHAT HE WAS TALKING ABOUT #BUT THEN I DID #HE NEVER HAS TO DO ANY OF THAT #HE DOESN’T HAVE MACE LIKE I CARRY IN MY HAND#WHEN I’M AFRAID OF THE DARK #HE DOESN’T HAVE KEYS IN BETWEEN HIS FINGERS#READY TO JAB #AND WHEN I EXPLAINED TO HIM #WHY I LOOKED IN THE BACKSEAT#WHY I LOCKED THE DOORS SO FAST #HE JUST SAID #THAT’S WEIRD #NO BROTHER#THAT’S RAPE CULTURE(tags by anywhoozles)
"I’m a huge star wars geek, I’m a huge everything geek."
But seriously do you ever think that all those who died in the battle of Hogwarts probably went on the chocolate frogs’ cards . And Teddy opening one before going on the train to Hogwarts and seeing his parents smiling at him, so they were actually there to see him off on his first year.
drowning in an ocean of my tears
There’s a delicately weaved story behind this picture, and I might as well jump right in.
I’ve struggled with depression and suicidal thoughts my entire life. I’ve had several failed attempts, my last, this past November. I logged into to twitter, to leave a note, just in case someone cared. And I I saw one of his tweets, first thing on my feed. Now Misha was my hero before this, but I just didn’t think I could fight anymore. His tweet was one of his rare, sincere, down to earth, thankful tweets. In fact, it was about being thankful, for every single one of us. When I saw it, I needed to keep living, I needed to keep going, because he was thankful for me. No one had ever been thankful for me. In that moment I felt a rush of hope, and it’s kept me going since. He has kept me going since. Every relapse I have, every moment I feel like I can’t go on, I remind myself that he is thankful .I got involved with tumblr, because of him. Because if he saved me, he’d surely saved so many others. I’ve found my place here, my niche. My home, and I have only him to thank.
I’ve been preparing in therapy for this moment, for six months. I didn’t think I could do it. But today, today I told the man who saved my life thank you.
I had a photo op with him this afternoon, and I asked for a hug, and it was all quickly done as I knew it would be, but also so very personal. I thought that my life was complete then, and it was, for the moment. I went to a secluded spot in the lobby, and I broke down. I stood next to him, the reason why I’m still breathing, the reason I will keep breathing, and it was too much, too fast. I cried for a good two hours. Sobbed into the side of my arm.
And then autographs came, and I was nervous again. My hands were shaking, and I knew it would be too busy, they wouldn’t be able to personalize anything. That was okay, I just wanted to tell him thank you. I didn’t need him to remember. I needed to remember.
I waited, and I waited and finally at last my group of numbers was called. I made my way to the line, and I waited some more, and then it moved so fast, and I was in front of him, and he is so fucking pretty up close and then it was real again. I didn’t know what to do, so I just poured out my entire soul.
He told my my picture was fantastic, and asked how I was, and so I told him. I told him that now I had my chance, I had to tell him. I told him that he saved my life, and that he kept me going, and that I knew he was humbled when he was told these things. He nodded in agreement. Offered a half smile, but his gaze was so intense. One of the most intense things I’ve ever seen. At this point I was crying, but his eyes never disconnected with mine.
And I told him about my SM, and how I’d been in therapy for a very long time just to be given the chance. Still, his eyes never left mine. When I was finished, after I’d told him thank you, again. He held out his hand, then said “shit.” in this defeated tone, he was so fucking touched by my little story. He stood up, pushed past the attendant who tried to stop him. He walked around the table, and he hugged me. A full on hug, and he held on, tightly for about a minute. When he pulled away, he squeezed my shoulder, once, twice.
He moved back to the table, pulled my picture to him again, and he thought for a very long time before he looked back at me, and there were tears in his eyes. By that time I was beyond tears. He looked back down and wrote that.
He asked me what my name was, and I told him Sophiaa, with two a’s. He laughed and asked “how the fuck do you spell that with two a’s?” Then thought for half a second and said. “fuck, I know.” Laughed again, mumbled sorry under his breath. He handed me my picture, grabbed my hand again, and told me to keep fighting, that he was proud of me .
He is my lighthouse in the storm, and this meant everything to me. This will keep me going for the rest of my life. Because he is so proud of me. He is proud that I made it. He said he was humbled by me, but I was humbled by him. I was warned that perhaps I’d placed him too high with my hero like admiration of him. My faith wasn’t misplaced. It never could have been, he went above and beyond anything I ever expected.
Misha Collins saved my life again tonight.
- Brother: I wonder what Satan looks like..
- Me: Well, first off his name is Lucifer and he's a fallen angel. According to the bible he was suppose to be super gorgeous.
- Brother: Really?
- Me: Yeah. I guess you could say he was....
- Brother: ???
- Me: ... fine as hell.