#Rabid REALLY HATES BEARS

[rabidwerewolfie]

Just An Opinion No One Cares About

If I was stuck in the woods and had to choose between encountering a man or a bear, I'd rather encounter a man and try to convince him to help me kill the fucking bear.

[theultimateultimateweapon]

Bad news: I found out what's making me a completely anti-social, cranky troll-under-the-bridge gremlin and it's my working night shift

Good news: I'll be moving to evening shift soon (the most optimal shift for me!)

More bad news: It isn't for 6 more weeks at least and I have to do offsite training 2 hours away during rush hour traffic for a week

[ryemackerel]

The moment you've finally been waiting for... One of the ship duos that I barely ever draw aka TordEdd, AKA BACON COLA, AKA!!! One of the sweetest ship duos ever imo. Featuring a song I associate with their theme songs and pairing a lot. :-)

Tord isn't really the type to do a lot of physical affection, and even moreso just being accustomed to receiving it in general. You pair someone who isn't very physically affectionate up with an entire household of very VERY physically affectionate people, and you get stuff like this. It's not that Tord hates hugs, he's just really awkward when he receives an overwhelming amount of love Imao.

Edd is always really gentle with Tord and just gives more physical affection as Tord slowly eases into it.

That and Edd loves flooding Tord with all of the "I love you's" and "You're really pretty" compliments, solely because he adores seeing Tord get SUPER flustered.

Edd and Tord are the equivalent of this big bear guy who's super fluffy and the stinky rabid dog that probably smells like a rat. Bacon Cola forever.

[1nindroid]

Zane x Vex is so funny because it's like the equivalent of Zane bringing home a rabid mangy raccoon. Literally everyone hates Vex (besides Zane ofc) and they're all just glaring at him with the fury of 10000 suns. Zane is probably really fucked up in the head and is like: "Ignoring the haters 💔 I love my booboo bear no matter WHAT!!"

Obviously the others wouldn't allow Vex inside the monastery so Zane would build him a little shed in the garden. All the others would try and do an intervention or try and figure out wtf is going on with Zane but to no avail. Vex would probably do a bunch of pranks on the others like Lloyd before he became the green ninja but worse. Because of this, no matter how long Zane and Vex are together, their forbidden yaoi will never be accepted 💔😔.

[vanmarkus]

istg if the twitter crazies ruin this for us and get him fired while edy stayed for a whole season despite what she said/did literal weeks ago, not years.

they won't get him fired, I highly doubt Tim gives a crap about what is being said on twitter. I'd wager that the only person on the show who is actually seeing this shit is Lou. (I mean, I bet Oliver has a burner but yk lmao)

but if it gets to a certain level, I would absolutely not be surprised if he'd pull back from social media or the show itself. I have no idea about his inner workings, he's essentially a stranger to us (so is the rest of the cast) but he spoke about getting hateful comments a few years ago and how he didn't really mind, since his fans always came to his defense, so he didn't really have to worry about it.

his filmography is filled with noname small appearances though, aside from S.W.A.T. and that show doesn't have half the size of the fandom as 911 —nor is he the subject of shipping wars turning people into rabid dogs on the internet over fictional men to the degree that he is on 911twt.

so who knows how much it's getting to him. I really couldn't care less who likes and dislikes any of the actors, but harassing other, real people, be it someone on the show or other fans will never be an okay behaviour and it will never go without an impact, unfortunately.

but one thing that I don't see any of these 911 "fans" considering is the limitless pettiness of Tim Minear.

if, after sending him death threats over cut scenes just this year, they end up chasing away the guy who played the characer who gave Tim such a refreshing opportunity to finally go there with bi Buck and the accidental writing genuis that is the invisible string theory, then made him exit before Tim could work out his storyline to its natural progression — which is a phrase we're hearing a lot in the interviews and for a reason — yeah, I don't know how keen he would be on catering to that side or the fandom.

also yeah, no one gaf about Edy, so I really don't think this would break the camel's back with a character that has an actual personality and some bearing on the story, instead of being a pushover cardboard cutout who was only kept around because having two off-screen breakups didn't scratch Tim's writing itch.

[hughiecampbelle]

Random Headcanons About Baby Roy:

Warning/s: addiction, addiction mention, drugs, alcohol mention

A/N: I think about Baby Roy all the time, lol. I just love them. I thought some fun headcanons would be nice :) Based on these headcanons and this fic series!

Baby loves screamo. Anything and everything screamo. Also any alternative artist! The more raunchy, the better. Any car or room they're in, they're listening to it or humming it or playing it in their headphones. Everyone's come to expect it and ignore it as best they can. Especially Karl and Frank, they hate it. Gerri just shrugs. it's not hurting you or anyone else, leave it be

It absolutely drives Connor insane, especially when you and Roman gang up on him and recite verses. Roman doesn't love your music, but it's so worth it to watch your other siblings cringe and get all uncomfortable

"That d*ick tastes like yankee candl-" I love Ashnikko lol

"Y/n, please."

"You wanna hear a so-"

"No."

Baby unironically plays Where's My Juul?? by Lil Mariko in front of Connor who has no idea what a juul actually is lol

Baby has a wicked sweet tooth. Kendall's been sneaking them candy since they were little, but it seems like you always have something sweet. A lollipop, gumballs, gummy bears, etc.

"You'll get a cavity."

"This is my one vice, let me be."

Shiv is always holding out her hand for whatever you've got. She doesn't ask, she just expects it. You never mind, it's nice to share with her. Besides, it makes her feel like a little kid, too

Baby loves gory movies. Growing up, when all the kids were together, they'd have movie night. When it was your turn, you always chose the goriest thing you could find. Rome would sit with his hands over his eyes and Connor would hold a pillow, But you, Ken, and Shiv would be totally into it

"Just wait! His head gets ripped off!"

"This can't be appropriate."

Baby is actually very smart. Despite all the partying, their grades were perfect. Logan had no need to worry. Maybe you weren't showing up to class, but you were there for tests and that's all that mattered. You throw your intelligence in your brothers faces

"Can you even spell egotistical?"

You make endless jokes about your sobriety that none of them like except for Roman. The others shoot daggers at you with a look that says "not funny" You think it's funny though, and that's all that matters

"I'll be at the bar, you guys chat. Kidding! I was kidding, jeez."

"Does anyone else need a strong drink right about now?"

"They say the food is like crack, but I know crack and this isn't that."

"I used to take handfuls of pills to this song. Now look at me, I've become a monster."

Connor is horrified. Every time you say anything, he's speechless. Shiv gets very serious and Kendall spirals, but Rome likes it. If you can't joke about it, what good is it?

Baby has lots of tattoos and piercings. It's the only socially acceptable way to self harm that isn't drugs and alcohol. Logan hates them and Connor thinks they're unsightly, but you don't really care. Gerri always wants to see the new ones you got, though she prefers they be covered up in the office

"I like that one, that one's very cute."

"Thanks, Mommy."

She hates when you call her that. For you, your and Gerri's relationship, it's not at all sexual like it is with Roman. She is genuinely your mother figure. She is warm and caring and only wants the best from you. She can always tell when things are getting bad again

"Oh honey, you don't look so good."

"Mommy, I don't feel so good."

She really does love you. Someone has to. She knows your mother and Logan don't. Someone has to be there for you

Both Karl and Frank are afraid of you. Between the music, the addictions, the tattoos, the piercings, everything is intimidating to them. You're not competing like your siblings, that scares them the most. You want nothing to do with the company

"Think they're rabid?"

"Might be."

You love it, the way they always back away when you get too close, like you're demonic or infected

Baby, I think, would write a lot. Not just your feelings, which are so hard to put into words, but good things that happened, reasons to stay sober

You have a notebook or something that they use to write in. You've brought it to every rehab you've ever been to and constantly reread it over and over. No one knows about it, and if they notice, they don't bring it up. It's yours

Reasons To Stay Sober: Connor, Kendall, Shiv, Rome. Connor, Kendall, Shiv, Rome. Connor, Kendall, Shiv, Rome. Connor, Kendall, Shiv. . .

You have a sobriety birthday and every month you bake a cake. It always turns out shitty, lopsided, and burned and runny at the same time, but decorating it makes you feel like a kid again

You're always wearing your siblings clothes. You're always stealing someone's jacket or socks or shirt or sweater. You like it. It makes you feel close to them

They've just come to expect it

"You look better in that shirt than I do, keep it."

"I was going to anyways."

You have those moments of deep regret and embarrassment and self-consciousness that always end up in tears, but your siblings are there to pick up the pieces

Connor especially will just hold you as long as you need and listen to everything you have to get out

You feel so deeply sorry for hurting them and scaring them so much. You just wanted it to stop. You wanted not to he angry anymore

They tell you they understand, but you know they don't. Not really. They can't unless they've felt the way you have

Baby falls asleep on all the siblings. Even Roman will let them get away with it, but no one else. You snuggle into them and have the best sleep of your life

"Quit moving."

"Don't use me as a pillow, then."

You get away with (mostly) everything because you're their baby and they love you so much. They love you so much it's gross

Connor still prides himself on the way he raised you. There were bumps in the road, but you ended up perfect. Absolutely perfect

They all pride themselves on how they raised you. It wasn't always good, they weren't always there, but they're making up for all that now. Logan is gone. Slowly they're breaking the cycle, for you and for them

Things will get better. You've hit rock bottom so many times and always found a way out. This is that. This is your out

[sharpvst]

always an angel ,

never a 𝖌𝖔𝖉.

felix river catton.

𝔱𝖍𝔢 𝖌𝔬𝖉.

I.

" he was right. river is quite silly. but i suppose you don't pick your child's name imagining one day you'll think about what it will look like carved on a headstone. choose a font . . "

life after the death of a god.

saltburn spoilers. 🍷

trigger warnings ; mentions of death , slight sexual themes.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

oh felix . . beautiful , beautiful felix. not a day goes by that oilver doesn't think about him. his one true love — his one true lust. he misses him , somewhat. life after felix catton hasn't been the same. it seems like farleigh was right. he's clinging onto that one summer , jacking off to the former feeling.

he just can't help himself.

it's been years since saltburn , and oliver cannot get it out of his mind. that time — that place. the people. felix. oh . . oh felix.

he loved him , hated him , despised him , lusted for him , loved him , loved him , hated him. killed him.

what is he to do now ? sit and rot for years to come? that's what he's been doing. after saltburn everything changed — he thought it would be for the better but it's just for the worst. now he knows how poor dear pamela felt.

he clings onto the final moments with felix , the silence , the sound of felix's breath on his skin. i don't know what you are , but i do know that you make my fucking blood run cold.

farleigh was right. oliver may have just been one of felix's pets but felix was more than that to oliver. oliver was a bashful stray dog that felix adopted , fed , and shaped into the dog he is today. he's rabid , almost as if he's infested with rabies.

he goes feral for the past , always rutting onto his bed sheets like a dog in heat. oh how he wishes thing's could've ended better. in truth , felix didn't have to die. but at that point and time oliver thought it would be for the best. but something within him . . regrets it.

everyone moved on — but he stayed there.

farleigh moved on , back to america he trotted to collect his bearings and move on. he's relatively the same . . just alone. after saltburn he has become unable to get close to anyone. unable to make friends - make love , anything. he's a hallow shell of a man now. farleigh still visits the family grave every year.

meanwhile , oliver does not. oliver sulks alone in his bed most days. sobbing like a rotten child into his bedsheet pretending that felix is there coddling him. oliver cannot move on from that time and place. he thinks about it too much. he thinks about the beautiful venetia , and how it was such a shame how it ended with her. but those words , what she called him - everything. he remembers them all.

oliver has to remind himself most days to do everyday normal human things — he has to remind himself that he's still living in breathing while felix's corpse is well past decomposition. felix is a pile of bones whilst oliver is still breathing. it feels wrong.

oliver wasn't meant for this world , oliver wasn't really meant for anything. he should've just went back to the factory where they made olivers. maybe one day he'll come to terms with what happened that summer.

but as the summers pass on and on , he grows older and older . . things don't change. he's feelings don't change. he truly never grew up after saltburn. deep down he's still that nineteen year old oxford boy.

what is he to do now other than rot alongside his long lost love. he deserves it after all. oliver fucking quick isn't meant for anything but death.

[yharnamcrow]

Musharna Malice! A nightmare meant for another… or perhaps not a nightmare so much as the jagged fragments of a memory.

You’ve always wanted to visit the ocean. You were born and raised rather far inland, far enough inland that you spent most of your winters perpetually halfway frozen, and while you haven’t returned to your childhood home in a very long time—you can’t ever anymore, though you prefer not to think about that—the city of Yharnam isn’t exactly coastal either.

But Yharnam is home, in all its bloody glory, and you simply don’t have the time to travel beyond it often. Nights of the Hunt are long, and hard, and when those don’t occur there is always more work with Byrgenwerth in the catacombs.

You’ve always wanted to visit the ocean. So, when you heard about a special opportunity—a research expedition to a fishing hamlet—you’d signed on almost without hesitation. Almost, because Byrgenwerth is still Byrgenwerth and the fact that they were hiring as many blades as will sign in for a simple expedition didn’t bode well for the hostilities they anticipated finding there… but they were paying well, and you really do need the money.

So here you are. The scent of salt on the breeze is strong. There’s something else there, too, something you can’t quite put a finger on. Something unsettling.

You bury your unease and press on after your mentor, for his scythe is easy to pick out in a crowd of scholars and you’d generally trust him with your life. Though it’s interesting, thinking about it, that he signed on for this expedition. He certainly doesn’t need the money. 

Maybe they wanted him specifically?

You could ask. Maybe you will once your work here is done. There are too many strangers here, too many people who would hear an outsider’s accent and actively hinder you doing your job.

Sometimes, you hate Yharnam a little. But it is home.

And, honestly—as far as Yharnamite hospitality goes, you almost miss it compared to how this hamlet treats outsiders. They regard the entire party from Byrgenwerth with unconcealed suspicion, but if they bear weapons they are far more concealed.

You keep a hand on your own. A warning, nothing more and nothing less. The hamlet is strange, certainly, but its people are a far cry from the mindless foes you have faced down in the catacombs or the rabid beasts that result from the plague.

Not for the first time, not for the last, you wonder why Byrgenwerth wanted you. Why they wanted any Hunter. What are they expecting to find here?

The answer, as it turns out, is… not at all what you were expecting. There is a great something washed upon the shore from the water, half of it still drifting in the tide in a vague facsimile of life. Laying eyes upon it alone causes your head to ache—

No. Not it. 

Her.

Your newfound insight makes you all but certain that this is what Byrgenwerth is here for. And that her name—whatever she is, or was—is Kos.

One of the scholars starts forward. You are intimately aware of the villagers watching, of the murmured discontent. You risk a glance at your mentor. He hasn’t taken his eyes off the—off Kos. Or whatever may be left of her.

The scholar—you never caught his name, but he seems to be the leader of this group—looks back at you and Gehrman, sizing the both of you up. His gaze lands solidly on you. He motions you over, towards what you are growing increasingly certain is a body of… something.

You suppress a shiver, and move to join him.

“That sword of yours looks sharp enough,” he says, his voice high and nasally, and you’re disappointed but not surprised that he doesn’t know what a twinblade is. “You’ll do to make the incision.”

You are starting to think that you didn’t hear him correctly. The confusion must show in your eyes, because he suddenly looks much less forgiving.

“The incision,” he presses, speaking slowly as if addressing a child or someone particularly dumb. “A cut?”

You do not appreciate him insulting your intelligence.

“I am quite aware of what the word means,” you say in a low voice. “You could stand to be more precise in what it is you wish for me to do.”

He looks like you’ve hit him in the face. He must have recognized your accent. 

…You honestly wish you had hit him in the face. Unfortunately, you likely wouldn’t get paid then, and you really do need the money, so putting up with pretentious fools like him it is.

“A single lateral cut should do,” he says, after a long moment, and points. “Start there. Don’t go too deep, we need what is inside intact.”

You somehow doubt that he would be willing to tell you what is inside. You suppose you’ll see for yourself soon enough, though you really did not sign up to assist in dissection of… ocean creatures?

It doesn’t matter. You can certainly make the requested incision. You could likely do so in your sleep.

Your blade meets flesh. Rends it.

The screaming begins. It isn’t coming from your group. You wouldn’t be certain that you weren’t imagining it, except that scholar’s white-knuckled grip is on your arm—you hate him immensely—and he’s hissing, “Keep going!”

So you do. The flesh parts easily, too easily, beneath your blade. The scholar frees your arm, surges forward to peer at what has been revealed beneath it—

—and his body jerks back from the javelin that has erupted through his upper body. You gasp, looking up.

The hamlet’s inhabitants, arrayed about the cliffs above you, are the ones who were screaming. But they’ve stopped now. They all hold spears, save one, a man positioned at precisely the angle to be the one responsible for the scholar now choking on his own blood.

Your pistol is in your off hand immediately. You shoot without thinking.

A body falls from the cliffs. Everyone watches it fall, until it hits the beach below.

And then—

Then, it is chaos, for the entirety of the fishing hamlet is upon you. You draw your blade, splitting it into two, because you truly have no choice now. You must fight, or you will die. The foolish scholars under your protection will die.

You fight. 

Blood soon covers the strange viscera upon your blades already, so much of it that you have little hope of ever truly washing it away.

No one remains alive, save the Byrgenwerth group, by the time that the sun sets. The expedition leader’s second seems rather unconcerned about his superior’s murder, about the fact that the expedition’s ‘protection’ were tasked instead to slaughter an entire village. He seems even less concerned about the village. They’re less than human to him.

So, you realize, are you. But the past cannot be undone. The incision cannot be unmade. The dead cannot be unburied.

You catch a glimpse—only a glimpse—of the thing torn from Kos’s body. You couldn’t say what it looks like, because that glimpse alone is enough to make the dull pain in your head intensify to a crescendo the likes of which you have never felt before. You think it would hurt less if someone drove a stake through your skull.

But you know, now—you Know exactly what you have done. Exactly what you did it to.

That corpse should have been left well alone. It wasn’t. Now countless people—innocent and less so—lie dead because of you, and Byrgenwerth’s scholars are all too happy to dissect the ones you murdered for good measure. Almost like they’d planned on that all along. Almost like they’d intended to provoke them into attack, so that you—or someone else—would strike back.

When you leave the hamlet, blades still bloody despite your desperate, fervent attempts at cleaning them, you are not the same. You never will be the same again. Nor do you deserve to be.

(When you awaken in the real world, you can still faintly smell blood in the water. And for a moment—but only a moment—you can almost see fresh blood on your hands.)

Th at... oh goodness... my sweet friend, is that... is that why? I s that why you were gone?

[catindabag]

TBOSAS on Crack short take (21)

*When the 24 OG Mentors discussed The Hunger Games*

Clemensia: Ok. Be honest. Whoever annually watches the Hunger Games, raise your hands!

Everyone:. . .

Clemensia: Really?! No one? Well, I’m kinda relieved to see that.

Felix: Clemmie, we stopped watching Highbottom’s Killer Kids Game since we were in grade school.

Clemensia: But why though?

Androcles: Not fun.😔

Sejanus: Extremely and insanely cruel and inhumane.😡

Lysistrata: Fortunately, my mom said “no” because there were too many body parts flying on the screen.

Festus: I threw up my cheesecake the first time I saw a live decapitation on television.

Coryo: That’s your only reason?

Festus: Bro, you don’t understand. That was my last free cheesecake coupon for the whole year.🥲

Coryo: Well, I just quit watching the games the moment I saw a kid bit off another kid’s fingers.

Festus: So?

Coryo: He swallowed them.

Festus: Oh.

Coryo: You all know that I hate cannibals, right?

Persephone: *starts crying*

Coryo: Not you, Price.🙄

Livia: Well, I just don’t watch the games because it’s not really my cup of tea. I mean, there’s no romance, no gossips, no breakups-

Juno: Nothing. I gave it a zero.

Arachne: True. It lacks that ✨reality drama✨ that we girlies crave for.

Dennis: I watched it once with my mom and my very sensitive dad. Never again.

Coryo: Why? What happened?

Dennis: My poor daddy had nightmares for a whole year. Even now, he’s still crying about it.

Coryo: Wait. Is that why your mom now runs and rules the Capitol Black Market without him?

Dennis: Yup! My daddy officially decided to become a stay-at-home househusband.

Persephone: Like mine!😀

Dennis: No, Price. Not like yours.

Persephone: Not like mine? But my sweet daddy is also a stay-at-home househusband.

Dennis: For the wrong reasons.

Persephone: He’s just living his best werewolf life!

Coryo: No offense, Percy, but your sweet daddy is clinically insane.

Palmyra: Like us!😀

Coryo: I know that we’re all insane, but not Nero “I am a scary werewolf” Price insane.

Persephone: But-

Coryo: He hunts rabid raccoons for breakfast and howls at the moon.

Gaius: Cool.

Coryo: He also fought 10 wild coyotes, 5 Peacekeepers, and a stray brown bear for some lima beans once. It was epic.

Felix: Was he arrested?

Coryo: No. You can’t arrest a self proclaimed werewolf. It’s illegal.

Felix: Illegal? Who approved of that law?

Coryo: Your granduncle.

Felix: *sighs* That checks out.😑

Persephone: Aren’t we talking about the Hunger Games?🥲

Coryo: Oh, yeah. How about you, Moss? Why did you stop watching Highbottom’s Killer Kids Game?

Iphigenia: It’s too brutal for my liking. And my grocery store has a sh*tty TV. How about you, Ney Ney?

Vipsania: No introduction, no narrative, no story. Just plain killing.😪

Palmyra: There’s no food commercials after every kill!

Coryo: What the heck, Palm Palm!

Felix: My crazy granduncle- I mean, the President of Panem usually invites me over to one of his exclusive ✨THG Watch Parties✨, but after the 4th time watching, puking, and screaming, I just couldn’t stomach the gore anymore.

Clemensia: Ok? So if you’re in charge of The Hunger Games, what would you change? What would you like to do if you recreated the games from scratch?

Everyone: Everything!

Sejanus: And no killing!

Felix: Yeah! Let’s agree and write a “no killing” policy!

Coryo: Make sure to add the “no gore” and “no cannibalism” rule as well, Class Pres.

Felix: On it. *scribbles*

Apollo: Hear me out. ✨Hunger Games: Panem’s Next Top Model✨!

Diana: No! It should be ✨Hunger Games: Dancing With The Stars✨!🤩

Livia: Ew. Your ideas suck! It should be ✨Hunger Games: LOVE ISLAND✨!💅

Sejanus: No! ✨Hunger Games: The Great Panem Bake Off✨ is gonna be the best program ever!

Coryo: Babe, what are you talking about?! ✨Hunger Games: Panem’s Got Talent✨ is the superior show!

Io: No! You’re all wrong! ✨Hunger Games: 90 DAY FIANCÉ✨ will have the most views!

Hilarius: ✨Hunger Games: Single’s Inferno✨ is better and spicier!

Palmyra: Suck it, Hilari! ✨Hunger Games: Fear Factor✨ will be the most iconic show!

Urban: You guys are not thinking! ✨Hunger Games: Project Runway✨ is the best concept! Just you wait! I will revolutionize Panem’s fashion industry!

Festus: What?! No! You’re so wrong, Ban Ban! ✨Hunger Games: TOP CHEF✨ will revolutionize Panem’s food industry!

Domitia: I kinda agree with Creed.

Dennis: Yeah. A food competition sounds nice.

Persephone: Oh, c’mon! ✨Hunger Games: Big Brother✨ will be a certified classic!

Pup: You’re kidding, right? ✨Hunger Games: Panem’s Ninja Warrior, Ultimate Beastmaster✨ will get us the most sponsors!😎

Felix: Slow down! All of your ideas and suggestions are great!

Palmyra: Thanks!☺️

Felix: But I can’t keep up with all that shouting!

Livia: Just do your stupid job, Class Pres! And FYI, mine’s the best. So make sure to highlight ✨LOVE ISLAND✨.

Festus: Oh, Horn of Plenty! I have another great idea!

Coryo: Fire away, Creed.

Festus: Hear me out. ✨Hunger Games: Keeping Up With The Ravinstills✨!

Coryo: Festus, my dumpster brother from another mother, you are a certified genius!😂

Sejanus: I’ll even trade my scheming old man to see that show air anytime!

Felix: That doesn’t even make sense?! How can the Tributes participate on that show?!

Juno: No offense, Felix, but we also want to see the chaotic family drama that you and your cousins are currently living in.

Coryo: I kinda agree with Juno, Class Pres. I mean, just last week, four out of your eight uncles got arrested by your other four uncles, just because of “illegally” breeding Bichon Frisé puppies inside your crazy granduncle’s secret basement.

Felix: How did you even get that private information?!

Coryo: You told us yourself.

[shadowmaat]

hug your oppressor

One of the many many problems with the "Don't hate, educate!" mindset is that it requires the victims to bear the brunt of emotional labor just on the chance that it might get an extremist to change their mind. That chance is vanishingly small, but some people keep insisting it's worth it.

It really isn't, IMO. MAYBE, if by some wild chance an extremist comes to you and POLITELY requests that you explain your side to help them understand, MAYBE that might work to help. But the vast majority of the time? You're asking already-vulnerable people to put their necks in the mouths of rabid wolves and hope they don't bite.

"I know it's asking a lot, but if there's a chance-!" No. It isn't the job of victims to "help" their oppressors. Like, I won't stop anyone from trying, if that's what they want to do, but acting as if it's somehow necessary, or the better moral choice? Fuck you. Punch an extremist if you get a chance, because anyone who wants entire groups of people to be made illegal and/or exterminated isn't worth humoring. Not even for a .001% chance they might change their mind.

[rabidwerewolfie]

I cherish my sleep. I mean I REALLY REALLY value it. Me and my bed are on a first name basis.

So it's a REALLY bad idea to piss me off by interrupting it repeatedly.

But this bear has been bother Debbie and I for WEEKS now and decided that tonight was MY turn!!

First I let Sutter Cain out. usually he's enough to chase them off, but this bastard was stubborn and kept coming back to go after my garbage can.

I keep bottles of ammonia around just for this purpose. So I splashed a bunch on, in, and around my can. Not 10 minutes later, guess who comes back and makes me get out of bed.

Ok, I thought, I'll show you. I added bleach AND ammonia to the can. HAve a faceful of THAT, sucker! I thought for SURE this time I would be able to go back to bed. I had JUST closed my eyes when the dogs begin barking and I hear the BANG of my can being knocked over again.

This time after I chase it off, I grab one of my home made spears and set it by the door. Make Sutter Cain stay inside so I don't accidentally hurt him. My aim is pretty good so I threw it as the bastard was running away and tagged his flank.

Most likely it didn't penetrate, but he felt it. I tried going to bed ONE LAST TIME!!! Nope, he came back again.

At this point, I have finally had enough. I grabbed my spear, set up a chair, and I waited outside. The thing with these bears is that as long as you don't move, they will walk right past you. So I let this son of a bitch, his big ugly head would come up to my waist if I were standing up, come to within about 5 feet of me, and then I stabbed him RIGHT in the chest. I KNOW that penetrated because I felt it.

Not enough to kill the damn thing, sadly, but it's going to sting a bit.

Bear lurched back, hissed, half raised a paw, then swung around and DASHED through my son's little blue wading pool to get away form me. In the morning I'll check if there's a blood trail and deal with it if so.

It's been almost an hour now and blessed silence. Not a single warning bark, although Sutter Cain is still outside on patrol. Hopefully he finally got the hint he's not welcome around here.

You can assume I'm exaggerating, straight up lying, or simply insane, as long as you let me fucking sleep.

[mareenavee]

For the kiss prompt: Argis the Bulwark/Ondolemar 8. "...in secrecy."

Hi Topsy :> Here's these two adorable idiots for you. I really appreciate this prompt! It's been a joy to write!! (Exceedingly aro of me, but I did also use this as an excuse to get some worldbuilding for the main fic done lol. Thanks for inadvertently helping me make a major character decision for Ondolemar.) Now without further ado:

A Heavy Truth

(Follows Chapter 13 of The World on Our Shoulders & Contains Spoilers For That Story!)

Sixteen days.  

It had been sixteen days since Ondolemar had sent Argis with information for Sybille in the Blue Palace. The trip should have taken maybe a week at worst, especially with the funds he’d used for a carriage. What had happened?

Ondolemar looked around Vlindrel Hall, which was dark and depressing, especially in Argis’s absence. Everything was hewn of stone and decorated with garish Dwemer accents, brass gleaming wrong in the strange light of the overlarge fireplace. It was still cold. It was always cold when he was gone. Everywhere in Skyrim. He hated it here. Hated it. Why had he bought this sorry excuse for a house was beyond him. Expectations, likely. He’d gotten comfortable, even when all his furniture was made of rocks. Even when his only company were thralls and Nords. And now this.

He was letting his mind wander again, which wasn’t the best in dire situations. There had to be a reason. Talsgar hadn’t heard anything, nor Faendal, far flung as the both of them had been recently. Was he local then? Stuck somewhere? He sighed and paced the living room, running a hand along the dusty bookshelves that he’d purchased when he bought the house. Mahogany. Not boulders, like everything else. Even the Orcs who’d delivered them had struggled hefting the things up the cliff face this place had been carved into. It was a bit of a chore to walk up here after a full day’s work. He could have spent his coin better elsewhere.

He was doing it again. Thinking of anything else instead of the nagging thought that maybe something had gone more awry. He wouldn’t touch the edge of the fear, sharp as it felt. As much as the worry ached, he had to keep it together. He had to. Argis was one facet of the mission. Able to be trusted, and more than capable. More than. But if he had been lost…

Gods, no. No, he wouldn’t assume the worst now. Couldn’t. He braced against the bookshelf, swaying on his feet, feeling lightheaded as images bombarded him of rabid bears charging, or more dragons swooping down out of doomed skies. He blinked, and the emptiness of this Godsforsaken house did nothing to calm him. He straightened, pulling at his grey tunic, trying to feel grounded or real again. He undid his hair from the bun he’d tied it back in and shook it out with a sigh, silver-blond strands catching on the edges of his chewed nails. He was losing touch, obviously. How long had it been since he’d slept correctly? Too long. Empty beds were no longer as comfortable as they used to be, after all. -> Read the rest on AO3

[megmasterz]

i really hate how a lot of posts about yellowjackets are like “girlhood is torture it’s like being attacked by a rabid bear constantly every waking minute” like okay way to speak for the whole group

[eldritch-flower]

alt: The Waking — see here for trigger warnings

Chapter 6 of 9 | [prev / next]

He made Thomas lead the way, unable to quell the fear that coursed through him as the man twisted the bronze door handle and pushed it open.

There was nothing there – no faceless copies. Nothing except a short stretch of red-carpeted hallway, looking a little worse for wear, and a wide open pair of glass-panelled doors that lead onto a stairwell. Above them, a loose-hanging sign lopsidedly guided them towards Floors one to four.

Thomas seemed to notice Orville’s hesitation on crossing the boundary between his room and supposed freedom, and he twisted awkwardly around to grab his hand:

“Okay?” he asked. Orville nodded, swallowed, set his sights forwards once again. And if he heard Thomas’s sigh, and if it tugged a little at those veins the romantics enjoyed calling heart strings, well… that was his business. And no one else’s.

“Okay,” he said, allowing himself to be pulled gently over the threshold. Orville half expected the Others to jump out at him; for Thomas to turn to him with a face blanketed in skin, emotionless and joyless. Orville didn’t know if he could bear seeing Thomas like that, so cold and empty and lacking his chaotic abandonment.

But Thomas – this Thomas, real Thomas, his Thomas – smiled at him as he spoke, lips quirking at the corners into a tight grin, and his eyes shone, and Orville returned it waveringly.

“These stairs were bastards to climb,” the other man said conversationally as they neared those doors. “Why you were kept on the fifth floor of this fucking place is beyond me.”

“Harder to find, I guess.”

“Yeah. I guess so too.” And as they descended, Thomas’s eyes never once left Orville. He wore a frown like it was a permanent accessory, wrapping an arm around Orville’s waist as his mangled foot crashed and stumbled down each and every step. “Careful there, big boy. Wouldn’t want you to fall from the tower now, would we?”

Orville hated himself for the way he leaned into Thomas’s touch. “Tower?”

“You know, tower. The one the prince saves the princess from in all the stories? Guarded by a dragon, put there by an evil witch. That shit. It’s for kids I know, but – “

“Sounds scary.”

“Not really, man; it’s just for, like, bed-time stories and stuff. Tell me you know at least one fairytale, Princess.”

“Princess?”

“Answer the question.”

Orville hesitated again: He never used to hesitate. “My parents never read to me.”

And that, that truth? That was sad. But although Thomas’s eyes glowed dimly in the overhead lighting and his lips pursed with contempt as he made to attack the terrible choices of Orville’s terrible parents, he stopped.

Orville worried for a moment that Thomas had looked into his soul and seen that he didn’t deserve the pity. He worried that maybe Thomas had finally realised that he was risking it all for nothing, coming to save him, and that Orville could never be saved, not really, not truly, but –

But he had stopped, not out of anything raving through Orville’s rabid mind but because of something he had seen.

This was his house. He recognised the coffee table, the white, dismal walls painted and undecorated. This was where Orville had passed the loveless hours of his childhood, scared and lone, waiting for parents who didn’t want him to come home – where he dreamt that they’d realise their mistake, forgetting their little boy. In later years, Orville had lay on the couch that now sat before him, separated by space and time, and wished it would all just end. It was tragic, ironic, how sometimes some wishes were answered.

The windows rattled in their panes, shaken to their harmonic core by whatever otherworldly winds were spun by the storm that raged outside. Orville wanted to reach out, draw the curtains and block out the ghastardly scene – maybe drown out the sonorous, nerve-ending wails of anguish and fear; a languid, angry sound that was always close, but never quite nearby.

“Thomas,” he whispered, fear teasing his voice apart like cotton candy. The grip on his hand tightened.

“This- This isn’t real, Orville, don’t…” the other man’s words fell from his mouth like lies. This time, Orville heard a quivering in his voice. “It’s not – it wasn’t like this when I –“

Something crashed against a window with a wet, squirming squelch and Orville let out a moan of dismay, pressing a hand into the side of his head roughly.

“Do you see it?” Orville asked, words little more than a wisp of wind, drowned out by white-sound silence.  He heard Thomas swallow beside him, felt lithe fingers reaching and pressing at his wrist in an attempt to drown out his fear, searching for Orville’s pulse.

It rocketed at the touch.

“I see it.” Uncertain. Scared.

But Orville wasn’t crazy. It was real, he knew it. What they were seeing was –

What were they seeing?

tag list: @anonymousfoz @digital-chance @milatooo

(ask to be added)

[tisziny]

tag game

1. Who would win in a fight- Dr.Phil or Oprah?

Oprah

2. What is the significance of a piece of jewelry you own?

I own a ring that used to be my grandmothers, so that's special to me.

3. What’s your favorite cover song?

I honestly dont know

4. If you were a Care Bear, what symbol would be on your stomach? I guess this question could also apply to if you were a My Little Pony

Aw man thats hard. A rainbow? Is that too obvious or basic?

5. If you could relive one day of your life, what day would it be?

I've no idea. Maybe seeing my grandparents during my last trip to the UK. I didn't know at the time that it would be the last time.

6. What is your favorite book and what are you currently reading right now?

Favourite book? That's hard man, I don't really read a lot of books these days. Maybe 'From Here To Eternity' by Caitlin Doughty. All i read these days is fanfiction. haha.

7. What’s the most embarrassing song you listen to?

Idk if i would call it embarrassing but its certainly silly, Eat Your Salad by Citi Zēni

8. What question do you never want to be asked again?

What my career goals/path/whatever is or looks like. Cause im 29 years old and i have NO IDEA what i want to be when i grow up.

9. What’s the craziest rumor you’ve heard of yourself?

I don't know I ever really heard any rumours about myself? All I can think of is that apparently a girl i thought of as a friend in years 7/8 of highschool was telling people i was a lesbian, which like, yeah I'm queer AF but i didn't know that then! And I only found out about her saying this stuff years later.

10. Does a horse go to heaven?

Yes.

11. Which of the 7 deadly sins best describes you?

Envy.

12. Which would you rather have as a pet, a Vampire bunny or a rabid unicorn?

A rabid unicorn sounds hard as FUCK to keep under control so I'll go with the vampire bunny.

13. If you were a famous rockstar, what would be something you’d always take with you on tour? Nothing boring like your phone

My Flat Eric

14. Chunky or smooth peanut butter? What kind of jelly?

Neither. I hate peanuts.

Strawberry Jam, although raspberry or apricot are also acceptable.

15. What is one thing you love about yourself?

That im creative? Idk, thats a really hard question for me to answer atm, i dont love much about myself.

16. If you were an animal what would you be?

A cat, cause i wanna sleep ALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL DAAAYYYYYY

I tag anyone who wants to do it?

[cowlovely]

ship bingo merthur, gwen/morgana, arthur/gwen. i thought about adding on mercelot and every combo between arthur merlin and gwaine but that felt too Crazie fkfjfnfkjfjc

merthur is literally my everything. my heart my soul my last living breath. i don’t know if the “unhealthily” on this chart is “i ship this so hard it’s unhealthy” or “i ship this dynamic in an unhealthy way” but either one works here. they are so bad at communicating by nature of the narrative itself but they are also so freakishly codependent and completely unwilling to admit it. “you’re my destiny and i’m willing to be your servant til the day i die and i can’t bear to lose you and i want you to hold me, but also hahaha you’re stupid and gay and we can’t be friends because of our status” i hate them and i’m going to kms.

i’m not really much of a morgwen shipper :// i was back when i was younger, but i have such huge issues with morgana’s character that i can’t really get invested in this one. early seasons more for sure—if i was just filling this out for the first two seasons it would be different—but considering all of it it’s a solid meh for me

arwen….mm. sometimes they have scenes where i’m like “hm! :)” but i just. i don’t really think they have chemistry honestly. and what little IS there is often squashed by bad writing for their relationship. i want to like them so bad but i just don’t 😔 (i’m not staunchly opposed to them either though so at least there’s that. like i don’t feel outright tetchy when their romance subplot is happening which is better than i can say for ships on other shows)

(won’t fill out the boards for the other ones you mentioned for the sake of not making this post miles long, but i LOVEEEEE mercelot they make me almost as rabid as merthur. big fan of merwaine as well, and arthur/lancelot. not really huge on arthur and gwaine personally, but i don’t dislike them either!)