ostensiblynone:

Eleanor looked up, surprised; the little girl was sliding back in her chair, sullenly refusing her milk, while her father frowned and her brother giggled and her mother said calmly, “She wants her cup of stars.”

Indeed yes, Eleanor thought; indeed, so do I; a cup of stars, of course.

“Her little cup,” the mother was explaining, smiling apologetically at the waitress, who was thunderstruck at the thought that the mill’s good country milk was not rich enough for the little girl. “It has stars in the bottom, and she always drinks her milk from it at home. She calls it her cup of stars because she can see the stars while she drinks her milk.” The waitress nodded, unconvinced, and the mother told the little girl, “You’ll have your milk from your cup of stars tonight when we get home. But just for now, just to be a very good little girl, will you take a little milk from this glass?”

Don’t do it, Eleanor told the little girl; insist on your cup of stars; once they have trapped you into being like everyone else you will never see your cup of stars again; don’t do it; and the little girl glanced at her, and smiled a little subtle, dimpling, wholly comprehending smile, and shook her head stubbornly at the glass. Brave girl, Eleanor thought; wise, brave girl.

—The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson

diaryofastudent:

Sharing oranges: a love language.

intimacy - E.C. - 2020/art by Youquing (Eugene) Wang/via @bashert/Nina Lacour: We Are Okay/via @rosewater1997/via pinterest/via @spacefroggity/ via pinterest/ (x)/ via Pinterest

animatedtext:

girlblocker:

tag game where were u and what were u doing when u found out the queen of England died

(via ceaselesswatcherspecialittleboy)

ilikesallydonovan:

Meine englischen Freunde mit ihrem weichen Brot haben gar nicht die Kaumuskulatur für ein deutsches Brot.

(via official-bernd-das-brot)

furiousgoldfish:

Abusive parents force you to hide things you would otherwise never have to worry about hiding, because you learn that they can flip out about anything, make a scene from anything, misunderstand one detail and go insane over it. So you don’t tell them about anything you can avoid, and you try to deal with things yourself as much as humanely possible, which takes the burden of taking care of you from them, and onto your shoulders.

This is dangerous as well because you don’t tell them about a friend who did something horrible to you, you don’t tell them about a sociopath who tried to groom or touch you, you don’t tell them about horrifying heartbreak you feel when someone abandons you, you don’t tell them when your world is falling apart because you know that at best, they’ll be uninterested, at worst, they will tell you it was your fault and you deserved it.

Living in secrecy becomes normal and when you develop trauma symptoms it once again feels like it’s your fault because you never said anything, you never told them how much they were hurting you, you didn’t speak up and open up about your problems. But how in the world would you? You know if you had, all that you would get is insults, blame, threats, guilt and shame thrown in your face, how could you possibly take that on top of having trauma symptoms? You can’t, it’s not worth risking. Suffering in silence becomes your only survival option, and you watch your heart break a little more every day that nobody cares that you’re breaking apart.

(via ceaselesswatcherspecialittleboy)

antifascistelmo-deactivated2022:

No matter how progressive or well-read you are, there are always going to be moments in your life where somebody pushes back against something that’s so culturally ingrained you never even considered it before. And you’ll say “Huh, it never occurred to me to challenge this but you’re right” and that doesn’t mean you were “morally toxic” before, it means you’re a non-omniscient human capable of growth.

(via mariorsomething)

pathos-logical:

aphteavana:

songsofwaterandnight:

schpeelah:

sreegs:

ah you can’t tip yourself

Wow, that’s direct

Love that with other stuff it’s like “woopsie the connection did an oopsie doopsie haha” but if you try to send yourself money the app’s like

“You’re a fucking criminal. 😐”

[ID from @elluendifad: the tumblr mobile app menu bar (with the buttons arranged as home, search, new post, messages, and account) completely colorblocked in red with white text above which reads

“it looks like you’re trying to launder money.” End ID.]

[Plain text of the last line: “You’re a fucking criminal. 😐”]