#SAYING SHIT LIKE THAT SHOULD BE CONSIDERED SELF-HARM

[ghoststarrr]

Y’all ever look back on something you said and PRAY TO GOD HIMSELF ON YOUR KNEES WHILE CRYING AND SCREAMING that they make a Time Machine so you can sucker punch yourself in the face before you say that bullshit⁉️⁉️🤭🤭

[dykedvonte]

Mini rant below and in the tags, the only time I’ll talk about this and my personal take on it.

The way people talk about hypothetical male Anya on Twitter and the idea of how Mouthwashing would play out if the genders were swapped makes me remember how people still don’t take sexual assault and rape with male victims with the same gravity, especially when the perpetrator is female.

[himbosandhardwear]

Eddie scans the room, looking for who or what he's not sure, just keeping his eyes peeled for something interesting. It's Saturday night, a packed house, some of the usual suspects but some new faces too.

One in particular stands out, especially considering his Sears Catalog attire and artfully tousled hair.

There's something about his loose body language that draws Eddie's eye. He's out of place but he doesn't act out of place. Eddie can respect it.

Unfortunately, when their eyes meet, he gets a kicked gut reaction that makes it clear this guy is off limits. The guy looks away immediately, probably thinks Eddie is more likely to pickpocket him than buy him a drink. Oh well. No great loss, he didn't come to get laid anyway.

He makes his way to the bar, gets a shot of Jack and a Miller Lite and waits. Teddy will probably show up before too long, maybe they can bar hop. He sips his beer and looks around some more, noting the older Mexican lady who runs the flower stand on the corner. You wouldn't guess it just by looking at her but she can drink anyone in the place under the table. He should really get her name.

Sears Catalog has moved to a table on the right side of the room, standing with a presumed girlfriend. Their heads are bent close together. He looks up and catches Eddie staring. They both look away again. He's really gotta stop doing that before he gets hate-crimed. It's a known problem, his type being untouchable preppy boys. He's sure if a shrink studied him, they would say it was because he didn't think he was worthy of love, or some shit, but he can't help it. The straighter, the meaner, the cleaner cut, the more Eddie falls all over himself. It’s a miracle he ever gets laid. Thankfully there’s always closet cases. He swore to himself he wasn't going to do that anymore though, he needs to have some self-respect, not let asshole jocks use him and drop him the second an emotion is displayed.

“That outfit is hideous.”

Eddie jolts in his seat. He finds Sears Catalog smirking at him like what he's said is the height of wit.

Eddie wastes no time pouring the rest of his beer over the guy's head.

He stares back at Eddie in shock, almost hurt. Fuck him. He doesn't care, he's not letting some dumbass gymrat hone his bullying skills on him. Not today.

The guy's girlfriend jogs over with a handful of napkins, which is when Eddie splits.

“I told you not to use that line!” He hears her exclaim. Eddie stops in his tracks.

“But…but...he didn't even let me get to the good part,” Sears laments. Eddie can't turn back around, he's frozen in place.

“Yeah, dingus, because it's a stupid fucking line. I'm sorry you had to find out like this but not every guy who makes eye contact with you wants to fuck you.”

“I know that! I just thought… I don't know. Let's just get out of here.”

He sounds so defeated. Eddie did that. He assumed the worst and reacted accordingly. Like an asshole. Like a bully.

They're halfway to the door when Eddie's feet unstick themselves from the floor. He rushes to intercept.

“What was the rest of the line?” He shouts.

Sears turns, eyes wide, unsure.

His…friend? Looks Eddie over, unimpressed. “What's it to you?”

He winces. “Just…uh…I guess I thought you should know, some of the guys who make eye contact do want to fuck you, they're just too stupid to realize they're being hit on.”

Sears and Mean Friend make their own eye contact. Mostly ‘Beat it' and ‘Are you serious?’ and ‘Yes, oh my god, please go.’

Eddie respects their bond.

Once Mean Friend has sufficiently rolled her eyes and threatened Eddie with bodily harm should anything worse than beer befall her friend, she stalks off into the night.

“You should take it off.”

“Huh?” Eddie responds, stupidly.

Sears smiles. “That's the rest of the line. ‘Your outfit is hideous. You should take it off.’”

Fuck, it really is a terrible line. Something a middle aged creep would use. If he'd waited long enough to hear it the first time it would've made him laugh though, which would have broken the ice.

“Awful. Zero out of ten,” he says while grinning. “Looks like you already offended one guy.” He looks at Sears’ wet shirt, appreciating his own handiwork.

“I'll keep workshopping.” His hand comes up slowly, like Eddie might react badly again. “Steve.”

It's his honor and privilege to clasp Steve's hand in his own.

“Eddie. And can I say, your outfit looks great. It would look better on my floor.”

Steve practically twinkles at him. “Stop, I'm already a sure thing.”

He uses the hand still in his grasp to pull Eddie forward and smash their lips together.

When their grandkids ask how they got together, Eddie is going to have to lie.

[theprettynosferatu]

CONTENT WARNING. NO, FOR REAL, READ THIS FIRST.

This story contains strong themes and graphic non-consensual sex. If you feel they might affect you adversely, skip this one.

Andrea is being tormented in college by a bigoted popular girl. Her daddy has always helped her... maybe he can help her get some justice...

CW: Incest, non-con, SA, orientation play (F-straight to bi)

I - No Expiration Date

She felt ridiculous. She probably looked ridiculous too, sitting against the wall, grabbing her knees, almost shaking, all in the middle of the hallway. Most made a point to not look at her, rushing to their classes, their dorms or wherever the hell they needed to be with such haste. Well, Andrea knew they only rushed because of her, to give themselves a plausible excuse to avoid doing the right thing and checking up on the poor, weird girl hyperventilating on the ground.

The worst part was that Andrea knew she shouldn’t let it get to her. If anything, it was Kate that should be ashamed of herself, not Andrea- fuck, to say such things in these days was almost quaint in its ignorance, and if Andrea chose to make a stink, grounds for expulsion. Would it be considered a hate crime? Maybe. But going up to the dean or whoever like a poor little victim felt so… humiliating. Perhaps more so than Kate’s constant, whispered words and stories. And some idiots actually listened to her! 

Andrea supposed that was the big perk of having a rich, connected daddy. Even the most moronic and bigoted statements found an audience eager to please, if only for the unspoken promise of future gifts, recommendations, networking opportunities. Shit, even the dean might sweep the whole thing under the rug just to please her family. Andrea could feel the rage building up inside her chest, making her almost sick. Part of it was the stench of injustice that surrounded the whole deal. But most of her anger was directed at herself. It wasn’t as if any of this was new to her: she had come out in highschool. Every insult and every joke and every slur had been thrown at her a thousand times over already. 

But… college was supposed to be different. Even the teachers that saw the abuse in her younger years had told her so. It will get better. You’ll get out of here, and in college all this will be a distant memory. That hope had kept her going even as everyone forgot her name and simply called her “The Dyke” her entire senior year. But those were kids. Kate was a fucking adult. And yet, bigotry seemed to have no expiration date.

Fuck. The bullying wasn’t even fucking accurate! Andrea had been openly bi for years, but apparently the nuances of sexual orientation were irrelevant when it came to making one person the butt of every facile joke, a stepping stone to get some sweet, addicting attention. And Kate loved nothing more than attention. Good, bad, who cared? As long as the spotlight was on her, whatever hole she had in what she called a soul was temporarily filled. Fucking go to therapy, you cunt! Did daddy not hug you enough? Used dollars as a substitute for affection? Boo-hoo. It didn’t justify a goddamn thing.  

Andrea took a deep breath and managed to get up. Her Social Psych lecture was about to start, and Andrea knew she would skip it, even if she tried to fool herself for a moment, to force her legs to walk towards the classroom. Step by step, she headed for her dorm room. Fuck. Another absence. Kate was even fucking up her academic life. But what could Andrea do? Go to the professor and explain that, sorry, I couldn’t make it because the rich girl made fun of me?

She threw herself on the bed with punishing force. A miniature form of self-harm, she figured. Sometimes she hated majoring in psychology: that little voice that analyzed her actions almost made her feel like she was performing her suffering, rather than feeling it fully. And that distancing might also be a defense mechanism. Well, shit. How does one turn their brain off?

Andrea felt a pang in her chest, a familiar longing for home. Sure, it wasn’t a perfect place and money was always tight. Sure, her mother had vanished when she was barely one year old. Sure, the old place was in dire need of repairs and an update. But it was home. Of course, she knew she was lying to herself by omission. She was trying not to think of the one person that made it a home, and inevitably, in trying to suppress the idea, it came to her twice as strong. Daddy. Her father was her home, and it made her feel childish, helpless, as if she was ten and running to him whenever things went poorly. That her mind still went to him filled her with shame.

Oh, bullshit. You know damn well why you don’t want to think about him.

She couldn’t tell when it had happened, exactly. It had been something slow, growing inside her, indirectly pushing her subconscious. If she looked back at her dating history, a pattern emerged, one hidden at the time but blindingly obvious in retrospect: similar to dad, similar to dad… and then, when an errant comment by a friend (“All I’m saying is, like, for an old guy… you’re dad is kinda hot”) opened her eyes, she swerved in an attempt to escape her feelings. Different from dad, different from dad… The problem with “different from dad” was, of course, that those guys were, well, different from her dad. 

The summer before college had been the worst. She did her best to be home as little as possible.

Before she knew it, twin emotions were boiling over inside her. The first made her feel sick to her stomach, made her muscles tense up, made her breathing shallow and quick, as if she was about to leap and bite some animal’s neck. It was rage, pure and shining, clad with the garment of a righteous need for justice. It isn’t fair. It isn’t fucking fair. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. That fucking bitch. She needs to suffer. She needs to be punished. She needs to fucking learn some humility. And at the same time, the second feeling snuck up on her, traveling in the shadow of the first, mingling with it until they became one, like snakes mating. Dad. She needs to suffer, dad. Make her suffer for me. Please. Please, daddy. Do this for me and I’ll… 

Andrea snapped back to reality, horrified. She moved her hand from between her legs, not even knowing when she had started playing with herself. Fuck, she was soaked. Shame almost brought her to tears, until Kate’s sneering face popped back in her mind. She had endured enough for one day. She had earned a little bit of fantasy. Just that. It wasn’t as if she’d ever do anything about… well, anything. But she could imagine, couldn’t she? She wasn’t that much of a coward- she could dare to imagine Kate, and dad, and… 

Fuck it. Who cared if it was wrong. She needed release.

Andrea let her hand go back between her legs.

II - The Call

Mike found himself staring at his phone. His morning coffee had gotten cold, but he took a sip anyway, almost as an automatic action. He couldn’t stop playing the conversation back in his head over and over.

“Dad, I’m on my way. I need your help. I… I’ll explain…”

“Andrea, are you okay? What happened?”

“I… I’ll be there in about an hour. I kinda… I don’t want to talk over the phone. Dad, I… nevermind. We’ll talk when I get there.”

And that had been it. No clues, no hint, nothing to guide him except the tone in his daughter’s voice. She was scared, and she was suffering, and that was all that he needed to know. Whatever it was that was harming her girl, he’d move Heaven and Earth to make it better. That much he knew, deep in his heart. Still, he couldn’t stop picturing the worst possible scenarios.

He tried to remain calm. Sexual assault on college campuses is… 

Mike pushed the thought away.  

Restrictions on reproductive rights have…

Snippets of news stories slapped him. The world could be a terrifying place for a young woman. But that was why they had chosen a college close to home. So Andrea could always come to him if she needed help. And she clearly needed help. Stay focused, old man. She needs you to be strong. Don’t let her see you panic. 

He needed to be strong for her. That was all he always wanted to be, more than anything: a rock, a place of stability, a North Star for the one thing that mattered in his life. They had faced the world together. They had survived poverty together. They had endured the pain of an absent mother and wife together. They had managed a retrograde high school that tormented Andrea together. She had saved his life as much as he had fostered hers. Without his girl, Mike wasn’t sure where he would be- perhaps underground. She had been the reason to dig deep, to find strength, to endure, always. 

Don’t let her see you panic.

Don’t let her see you looking at her.

He shook the intrusive thought off. Andrea needed him, not his fucked up neuroses, not the secret shame the last months of living together had awakened in him.

One hour stretched into a year, and Mike practically leaped out the door as soon as he heard the car pulling over. The first thing he noticed was his daughter’s panicked face, and that alone was enough to make his heart feel like it was about to burst out of his chest. The second thing he noticed was the other girl, passed out in the passenger’s seat. Andrea rushed into his arms, and he held her tight, trying to will some degree of peace into her mind. First things first.

“Are you okay?”, he asked.

“Yes, I’m… I’m fine.”, Andrea sobbed.

Good. Now to do what he did best: fix things.

“Ok, so, your friend…”

“She’s not my friend.”

“What did she take? Did you take anything? Look, I’m not… I won’t get mad, I just need to know what she may have taken… is it just booze? No, couldn’t be… Benzos? Or… Christ, I don’t know what you guys take these days in college…”

“Dad! She didn’t take anything!”

“Are you sure? Maybe she went into some bathroom and did something… okay. First things. We need to call an ambulance…”

“Dad, please! Listen to me! I’ll explain everything. But we need to get her inside before anyone sees-”

“Andrea, this girl is passed out! She needs medical attention! Who knows what-”

“I know what she took because I gave it to her, okay? She’s just asleep! And she should be asleep for… maybe another couple of hours. Daddy, please… I swear I’ll explain. Just help me get her into the house, okay?”

Mike felt dumbfounded. The idea that his Andrea had roofied some other girl was so distant from his image of her, from the girl he had raised, that the contradiction felt impossible to resolve. It was a paralyzing feeling, one he couldn’t entirely put into words. All he knew was he didnt like it one bit. He was a man of action. He needed to do things, more than ponder feelings. And the thing to do, if only to escape that horrid sensation, was to get the poor girl out of the car.

They dragged Kate into the house, and laid her down on Andrea’s bed- a task that, Mike noticed, his daughter undertook with less care than he would have liked. Back in the living room, he looked at his daughter and put on his best stern face. Stern was good. It hid other ideas that came into his mind when he looked directly at Andrea.

“Explain.”

Andrea broke down in tears.

“Daddy, that girl… Kate.. she’s… she’s making my life Hell! She tortures me every day, makes fun of me, spreads rumors about me… people think… I don’t even know what they think about me anymore. So I can’t make any friends. Just like high school. It’s the same damn thing! And they all said… you said college would be different! But it’s not! Maybe it’s my fault. Maybe I’m just… I don’t know. Broken. Maybe people can smell I’m weird, or weak, or… and they know they can abuse me and mock me and… It’s not fair! And I didn’t know what to do, I wasn’t thinking straight… I just put a couple of pills in her tea, and… I freaked out. I needed to feel safe, and I feel safe here… with you.”

Mike took it all in. He had to admit the sight of his precious daughter in such despair was enough to pierce any ideas of being tough he might have. And yes, it wasn’t fair. The world wasn’t fair at all. Andrea was beautiful, smart, creative… but there would always be those people who couldn’t understand someone being different, loving who they loved, being their authentic self. He got the anger. He got the frustration. He hated that Andrea had been driven to this point. But there was a big thing to address.

“Honey… I know… but you can’t just… just… kidnap someone!”

Andrea couldn’t help herself. She ran into her father’s arms, and hugged him tight.

“Daddy… I didn’t know what to do. I…”

She went silent. Mike couldn’t find the words to console her, to lecture her, to say anything at all. All he could do was feel the warmth of her body pressed against him, intuit her soft curves, take in the smell of her shampoo, her skin. It was intoxicating, and for once he let himself feel… whatever it was he was feeling. He let himself enjoy the moment, and even the sleeping girl in the bedroom seemed to fade away from his consciousness. They simply lingered, holding each other, taking it all in.

Such a moment couldn’t last. It shouldn’t last. Mike forced himself to speak, to say… whatever he could muster.

“What… I don’t know what you expect me to do…”

He felt Andrea’s hands on his back holding him tighter. He felt her warm breath on his ear, sending shivers down his spine as she whispered before the words even registered in his brain.

“Daddy… please… fuck her for me. Fucking rape the cunt… show her her place. Daddy… break her with your cock. For me.”

III - Persuasion 

Andrea couldn’t tell exactly what happened to her, what shifted within herself in that embrace, what dam had finally broken in her mind. Even as her father pushed her away with a horrified look on his face, she could see him- almost as if for the first time. A veil that had been dulling her sight for so, so long had finally vanished. Yes, she saw everything so clearly now, with such simple purity, devoid of fear or shame or silly excuses. It was a bizarre sensation, to finally be able to accept without doubt or hesitation the truth, so long buried.

She wanted to fuck him.

He wanted to fuck her.

So obvious. So simple. So powerful. Andrea wasn’t going to run away from it anymore. And she could see, under the mask of horror worn by her father, beneath the shock in his eyes, something else. Stirring. 

Suddenly, Andrea felt powerful. Immense. Sexy. In control. The fact that she had become one with her secret desires and he hadn’t brought a predatory joy to her chest… and something else, both an anger and a need. In her heart she could see not just what her father was but what he could be, what he could become, what he needed to be. She could almost smell it- the strong, conquering Man suffocated by the dull veneer of morality and social norms. Yes, she felt powerful- but she didn’t need to be strong. She needed to be taken by him. She needed to bring the beast forth, somehow. To make him see himself as she saw him. To make him see her as she wanted to be seen.

She smiled inside, even as her father almost recoiled from her. It was all a game, now. One she intended to win.

In the blink of an eye her entire demeanor, her posture, the way she looked at her father shifted. For a second she was the perfect picture of innocence, of a young woman in need of rescue.

“Daddy… please… I need your help. Won’t you help your little girl? I promise I’ll be good. I’ll be so… so good to you, Daddy. I’ll be your good little girl. Your obedient… slutty… little daughter”, she smiled as she took one step towards her father, her body now swaying like a cat slowly approaching its prey. She took a moment to delight in the confusion in her father’s eyes, the tension increasing almost to a breaking point.

“I… what are you…”, managed to mumble Mike. Oh, it was so pathetic it became cute.

“Daddy… you think I haven’t noticed the way you look at me recently? It must be so, so hard for you… to see your little girl all grown up, and you all alone… that’s not fair, is it?”, said Andrea as she closed the distance with her now paralyzed father. Oh, this was too much fun. “You have been a bad daddy in your mind, haven’t you? That sounds so painful! Knowing it’s soooo wrong to think about your little girl like that… having to pretend you don’t want to… Fuck. Your. Daughter. Oh daddy, don’t blush! Surprised to hear such naughty words coming from my cute mouth? Or… do you like me having such a potty mouth?”

Andrea, in a swift motion ran her hand over her father’s crotch. Yes. She could feel it. So hard. So warm. She was right. He was breaking.

“Feels like your daddy cock likes me talking like a dirty slut! Don’t be ashamed! I love to imagine your cock getting so hard for me… I love to know I can make it so, so happy… And only using my words! Just talking like the hopeless little fucking whore I am… for you… just knowing you can use my tight holes whenever you want… however you want… and I’ll take it like a good girl! I am your good girl, daddy. You made me, after all… you own me… you can own every inch of my slutty, smooth body…”

Suddenly, she took a step back, her eyes almost in tears. She was the very picture of anguish, of despair, of vulnerability. Mike opened his mouth to speak, but he found no words came to him. He just watched, fighting his need to hug her, to protect her, to tell her he would make everything right again.

“Daddy… I’m so sorry… I don’t know what got into me. I just feel so confused, so disoriented, and… I don’t know. It’s like I have all these feelings inside me and they get all mixed up and I can’t really tell what I feel anymore, and it hurts so much. It hurts, Daddy. And that girl… Kate… I can’t tell you how much she’s hurt me, how she has been messing with my mind and making me so miserable… and… and I guess, I’m not sure, just… I thought you could help me, Daddy. You always could help me. You always could make me feel like everything would be okay, that I wasn’t a freak, or…”

“Honey, you are not a freak! You know this. You’ve been so brave, so strong, so true to yourself, even when everyone gave you grief over it!” He couldn’t help himself anymore. He held his sweet girl in his arms.

“But I… I did a bad thing, Daddy. I brought Kate here… I couldn’t think of anything else to do to make her stop, to make her leave me alone…”

“I know. And yes, you did a… wrong thing. But that doesn’t make you a monster, or evil or anything like that, okay? We’ll… I’ll find a way… I’ll help you. I’ll… fix it, somehow.”

“Will you rape her for me? Will you punish her with your cock for hurting your little girl? I’ll be so, so good for you if you do it, daddy… I’ll be the bestest daughter ever for you!”

Mike tried to pull away before he was interrupted by the sensation of warm, soft lips on his own. Time stopped. He felt dizzy, trapped in the feeling, the scent of skin, the rush of adrenaline in his chest. He panicked as he realized he didn’t stop it in time. He didn’t stop it as time stretched. He wasn’t stopping it even as the thoughts flooded his mind. It took Mike every ounce of willpower to push his daughter away.

Oh, it was so fun to see her Daddy so confused, so aroused, so disoriented. But Kate would wake up soon. Andrea needed to land the killing blow on whatever resistance her dear dad had left.

“I’m sorry Daddy… it’s just that I love you so, so much…” One slow, seductive step towards him. “I was bad, Daddy. I shouldn’t have done that, right? Does that make me a bad girl? A bad daughter?” Another step. So close now. “I’m so, so sorry for being bad, Daddy. I’m sorry I made your cock all hard for me and teased you and used all those dirty, dirty words. Will you punish me, Daddy? Will you make me good again, show me my place? I think you should. I think you should take your cock, and-”

One final step, and Mike snapped. For the first time in his life, he slapped his daughter. Horror set on his face, and it became a mixture of bewilderment and fire when he noticed Andrea’s reaction. She was smiling.

“Mmmmh… so strong, Daddy. Do it again. Punish me. Show me you own me. Make me your bitch!”

It was over for Mike. Something primal, something awful had taken hold of him. 

His hand on her neck. Hers rubbing his cock over his pants. Her soft moans. Kisses that turned into bites. His own mumbled, jumbled words. Little cunt. Evil fucking bitch. Her words, playing off his. Your little cunt. Your good little girl. Her face against the wall. Her movements, grinding her ass against him. Her hands on his chest, pushing him back. 

So many lines crossed. Mike knew, deep down, he had broken something inside himself. Or maybe she had broken it in him. It didn’t matter. He looked down at the beautiful, perfect woman kneeling and smiling. He saw his daughter, yes, but his eyes were now different. The barrier that kept the idea of “daughter” and “sex” apart simply didn’t exist anymore. He felt adrift, caught by a whirlwind he couldn’t stop- one he didn’t want to stop. 

Victory. It looked like victory. Victory over herself, over her old fears. Victory over his attempts at doing the “right thing”. Further victory to come, as well. And it didn’t hurt that the cock that made her was a rather large one, veiny and beautiful. He tried to keep herself in check. She knew exactly what to do, which went against everything her body was screaming for her to do. No matter how much she needed to feel that cock deep inside her pussy, no matter how much she longed to taste his cum on her tongue, she would have to wait. She couldn’t risk some post nut clarity throwing further objections to her plan. She kept her mind on Kate as she licked, kissed, loved his member. She was alert, ready to stop before he went over the edge. She did let one hand slide between her legs- just a treat, and a bit of a show for Daddy. She took him deep in her throat, deeper than anyone she’d ever blown. He deserved it. He was her one true love. 

She did manage to stop herself when she felt him getting close, heard his moans getting stronger.

She stood up and simply, gently, gave his Daddy her soaked hand for him to smell. It was a promise of the pleasures to come… if he did as she asked, as she needed him to. She could see it in his eyes. He had been unleashed. Andrea smiled, and with a moan sucked her fingers clean, keeping her green eyes fixed on her Daddy’s gaze.

Punishment would finally come to the one that had wronged her.

IV - Melody of Madness

Slowly, Kate started to regain her consciousness. It was a gradual thing, messy, disoriented. The first thing she noticed was a scent- the kind of smell that tells one they’re no longer home, but in a place inhabited for years by some unknown Other. Her body felt heavy, sluggish, weighed down. She wasn’t afraid, not at that point. She was too out of it to register such an emotion.

Only when her vision cleared a bit and her body started to feel more like her own did the true horror begin. She tried to remain calm. Okay, Kate. Just… try to figure things out. You’re in a bedroom. A girl’s room, judging by the decor. Shit, did you get wasted again? Wait, no… a room, yes, but not a dorm room. Bigger than the dorms. Oh, fuck. Did I party in town? Did I black out and some random girl decided to help me?

A part of her screamed. Assuming that this was just another regrettable morning after too much liquor was only a pleasant delusion, and she knew it. As painful as it might be, she would have to face another possibility. What was the last thing she remembered? She was getting up, ready for class… then she was picking up her morning coffee… a bitter taste, more than usual, and then… nothing. 

Kate needed to get out. Wherever she was, it was not where she wanted to be, that much she knew. She’d have time to figure things out later. First, get out of bed, and then…

She couldn’t. She was bound to the bed by improvised ropes made of sheets. Her legs were open, held in place. She noticed the way the air felt on her skin. She was in her underwear. This final fact froze her for half a minute- thirty seconds that felt like an eternity. 

Finally, she screamed.

“Shut the fuck up, or things will get very, very messy for you. And I don’t want to ruin my sheets, thank you very much.”

The voice was calm. Cold, yet expressing a hint of anticipation. And it was a voice Kate would never have expected to hear in that place, not in a million years.

“Andrea?”

“Oh, I’m ‘Andrea’ today? Are you sure you don’t mean to call me one of your usual nicknames? No ‘dyke’? No ‘carpet muncher’? No ‘cunt licker’? Isn’t it interesting, how something as simple as a little bit of metal and a few sheets are enough to teach you manners?”

Metal? Kate lifted her head as much as she could. There was Andrea, holding a knife. Shit. Shit. Shit. That little, insignificant bitch! And what was it with the outfit? Black lingerie, full face of make-up, devilishly sharp stiletto heels… Kate had never seen the stupid dyke looking anything like a real woman. Huh. So she had curves hidden under her usual baggy hoodies. Good for her. But she was still a fucking loser, and Kate knew how to handle losers.

“What the fuck are you doing, you crazy bitch? Let me go, now! What the hell are you thinking? People will hear…”

“Oh, don’t make a sound. I don’t want my father to…”

“Really? You brought me to your own home? You really are that stupid, huh? Let’s see what your dad thinks of his dyke daughter when she sees what you’ve done! Help! Sir, please! In your daughter’s room!”

Steps stomping outside. A man entered the room. Finally. Victory! Now the crazy dyke would get what was coming to her, and Kate would have a brand new story to bury the little cunt’s reputation even further. Maybe even hold the possibility of jail over her head.

“Andrea! What the hell is this? What are you doing?”, the man said, suitably shocked.

“Daddy! I’m so sorry! I… I just…”

“Didn’t I tell you to let me know as soon as she woke up?”

“You did. Sorry, Daddy. I’ve been a naughty little girl… will you punish me later?”

“Later, yes. Now we have work to do, don’t we, baby girl?”

“Yes we do, Daddy!” she chirped before giving in to a long, deep kiss with the man.

What. The. Fuck.

“Oh, I’m sorry!”, laughed Andrea. “Did you think he would help you? Kate, Kate… Ignorant as always. For one, I’m not a dyke, I’m bi- not that you care, but I figured a little education can’t hurt. And another thing about me: I have the bestest Daddy in the whole world! And my Daddy would do anything for me, because I’m his perfect, slutty good girl… and he’s very, very good at training good girls! Well, maybe ‘training’ isn’t the right word. How about… ‘breaking’? You know, like a horse! And we’ll make you such a good, good girl!”

Panic set in.

“Crazy! You’re both fucking crazy!”

Kate squirmed, a scream dying in her throat as Andrea crawled on the bed, swaying like a terrible feline, giving her dad a marvelous show. She lightly touched the inside of Kate’s thighs as she made her way up… before flashing the knife in front of the poor captive’s eyes.

“If I were you”, cooed Andrea, “I’d be very, very still for this part.”

Kated hated that her body seemed to instinctively do as the fucking dyke told. She froze, every muscle locked tight. She closed her eyes, and prayed to no deity in particular. Please. Please. Make it stop.

Kate shuddered as she felt something cold barely grazing her, almost between her legs. Terrible images flashed inside her mind. I might die here. A second later, she felt air caressing her private areas. She opened her eyes, only to see Andrea’s mad smile as she held the remains of Kate’s panties in her hand, skillfully cut off her body. 

“Not the sexiest of panties, I must say. I’m a bit disappointed! But…” Andrea brought the panties to her nose and took a deep, gratifying sniff. “There’s something alluring there. Oh! You’ve never had the pleasure of smelling a nice cunt, have you? No, you’re so very, very straight… you’d never do that, right? Well, you’ve been missing out. Time to fix that.”

Andrea carefully, almost lovingly, tied the panties around Kate’s face. Every breath now was an assault, a reminder of how powerless she was. A humiliation.

“Better get used to it, you stuck-up slut. You’ll be tasting the real thing soon enough. But…” Andrea leaped off the bound body of her foe. “What am I thinking? You’re straight! So, I take it you’d enjoy a big, hard cock more than my… dyke attentions, won’t you? Well, how about some Daddy cock? Won’t you love that? I know you will.”

Andrea skipped, child-like to her father. He was watching the scene before him, almost panting. A beast ready to be unleashed.

“Look!” chirped Andrea. “He’s so, so hard for you already! You should be flattered! Well, no point delaying the inevitable, I say. Ready to feel this big cock ramming into that tight pussy, you bitch?”

“No… no, please, don’t… I’ll… I’m sorry for… for everything! Please, please, please…”

“A little late for that, you evil cunt! Now get ready to be used like the fucking cumrag you are!”

Kate tensed up and shut her eyes hard enough to make them hurt. She braced herself for pain, for agony. She tried to somehow make her mind escape somewhere, anywhere else. Wasn’t that something that happened in these situations? Some sort of protective dissociation? And yet her mind was nailed in place, as stuck to the bed as her body. She waited, shaking… and nothing happened.

“How rude of me!”, mocked Andrea. “I almost made my daddy take that pussy dry! That would hurt a lot! I could help with that situation, you know… but you’re not a filthy pervert like me, that likes cock and pussy alike… so… I have to say, I’m a bit conflicted! Wouldn’t want to make you a dyke against your will! But you can choose. Dry or dyke? Huh? Too shy to speak now, you cunt? Answer me! Dyke. Or. Dry.”

Kate couldn’t believe her ears. An image of the knife flashed in her mind. Fear took hold. Feel of pain, primal, deep. The promise of less pain seemed like an imperative, and her mouth spoke before she could stop it.

“Dyke…” she mumbled.

“Sorry? I couldn’t quite hear that”, saud Andrea.

“Dyke! Dyke! Dyke, goddamn you!”

“She’s out! She’s loud! She’s proud! Welcome to the club, sister! Now relax and let me introduce you to a brand new world…”

It felt gross. It felt odd. Kate tried to reframe it. It’s just lubrication. It’s just making it easier for later. It means nothing. It’s just a tongue. It’s just…

Andrea was good. Extremely so. She took pride in her oral skills and was using all her talents, all her tricks on Kate. Not because she wanted the little bitch to feel good: simply because she knew that pleasure would make her suffer as much as the pain to come. Every involuntary thrust of Kate’s hips, every muffled moan that escaped her lips was a step towards conquest… and Andrea felt like a warlord, like a terrible goddess exacting just revenge…

“Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?” she giggled. “But we can’t have you cumming like that… not when dear Daddy has been so, so patient!”

Fear crept from beneath the disgust Kate felt with herself. A part of her had enjoyed it, and she hated herself for it. Her body was starting to betray her, and that, more than anything, was terrifying. But now the pain would come. She knew that for a fact.

“Daddy, my sweet, sweet Daddy… break the cunt”, said Andrea.

“Please… don’t…” managed to mutter Kate.

It was in vain.

It did hurt. The man was a beast, savage, thrusting into Kate without the slightest care for her pleasure or comfort, using her body like an object to take out all his messed up frustrations, his fantasies, whatever was mixed up in the storm inside his brain. Kate whimpered and yelped and tried not to scream. And in her ear, a warm breath, whispering to her constantly.

“Good girl… won’t you cry for me? Like you made me cry so many times? You fucking slut… don’t fight it… you know what you are, deep down… don’t you miss my sweet tongue on your cunt? Relax… let it happen… you deserve this… and I’ve earned it… your pain… and what you will be for me later… when the pain is gone…”

Part of her mind was aware enough to realize Andrea was rubbing herself right beside her. But most of her mind was focused on the sensation between her legs, the burning, the feeling she was being torn apart… and something worse, slowly creeping its way into the strange mixture assaulting her consciousness. Andrea saw it immediately.

“It’s better now, isn’t it? You can feel it… it’s okay. You don’t have to lie. Not to me. We are sisters now, after all. I, made by the cock that is remaking you! It’s so… poetic, isn’t it? You are a slut. You’ve always been a slut, deep down… all you needed was someone to prove to you that a slut is all you need to be. All you deserve to be. No more queen bee at college for you! And I know you will be such a good little girl for Daddy…”

“Fuck… fuck you���”

“Oh, you’ll get to do that too! Want a taste?”

Andrea started slowly, kissing Kate’s neck, nibbling it, giving her victim goosebumps. Then she delicately removed her bra, and lips met sensitive skin. Kate’s nipples, hard against her will, were assaulted by kisses, suction, skillful licks. Andrea toyed with Kate, varying the pressure, the speed of her tongue, inserting playful little bites into the game. Measuring. Learning. Deciphering every preference, every weak point. To Kate’s horror, the pain was starting to feel duller, as if coming from far away. The pleasure, on the other hand, was sharper, demanding, a hungry thing coming from her own traitorous body. It was hard to think. Hard to keep any single idea in frame inside her mind. Too many stimuli, coming from too many places, attacking different parts of her idea of self. She felt as if she was drowning in sensation.

Andrea made her way down, slowly, as her father’s thrusts became a bit slower. Stamina wasn’t infinite, but she was quite confident that together they could get the job done. Together, they could do anything. It took a bit of careful positioning, but soon the tip of her tongue was able to tease the little cunt’s clit and even give her dear Daddy a little extra lick when he pulled his beautiful cock out, only to ram it into Kate again. Oh, if only this moment could last forever. Father and daughter locked eyes for a moment, in something that felt like a twisted perversion of love. It was time to move on to the next step.

Kate couldn’t stop squirming. Couldn’t stop moaning. Couldn’t stop her fucking body from reacting to the big cock inside her, the tongue playing her pussy like a violin, her own shame turned into a corruption of pleasure, disgust with herself that swirled and shifted and somehow enhanced the feelings that were eroding her sanity. And then, it snuck up on her.

Kate came, harder than ever in her life. Any pretense was undone at that moment. Her body was too honest. But the fucked up father and daughter team didn’t stop. No, they paused for only a second or two before resuming their work. It was too much. Kate shook as she came again. And again. And again.

She was exhausted. Too exhausted to fight anymore. Too confused to protest anything Andrea said. Her words just permeated, unfiltered, into Kate’s mind.

“...tell you? You can be such a good little whore… and we can be Daddy’s sluts together! Don’t you think he deserves it? His cock made you cum so much… your pain gave it so much pleasure… it owns you now. And you’ll love it, I know you will. We’ll make you love it so, so much, until you forget what a fucking bitch you were before…”

Kate didn’t even notice when the restraints were removed. There were stronger ones in place now, and she could feel them. Inside her head. She had been defeated. She had been conquered. She had surrendered.

“On all fours”, Daddy said. He didn’t have to say it twice. Kate complied. 

“Word on campus is that your little ass is the one hole you’ve been saving up for someone special! Well, I say you’ve met someone very special! So now Daddy will take the last bit of you and you’ll finally be entirely his! Isn’t that exciting? But… what about your poor fellow slut? I mean, I gave you pleasure too! I say I deserve a treat. So… you get pain for Daddy and he gets to watch you eat a pussy for the first time! What a show it will be! And we’ll make it a show, won’t we, sis?”

Yes. Whatever Andrea said. It was easier to comply. Easier to obey. Easier to just accept. It would hurt. Good. If her pain was what they wanted, they would have it. She would have sex with another girl. Good. If they wanted her to dyke out, she would. 

Kate’s screams sent vibrations through Andrea’s pussy, only making Kate’s inexperienced attempts at eating her out so much more delicious. Andrea felt like a queen, being serviced as she deserved. Mike was a beast, finally letting out something that had been suppressed in shame for far too long. Kate let her body take over, turning even pain into something else, something like purpose, or atonement. In a single day, all three had changed. Forever.

The tight, virgin ass, paired with the spectacle of this girl pleasuring his sweet little girl sent Mike over the edge. He barely managed to pull out before cumming with an intensity that shocked even himself. Kate’s back was soaked, and some drops had even landed on his own daughter’s breasts. 

Andrea licked her lips.

“Kate… sis… why don’t we clean each other up for Daddy?”

V - Epilogue

Mike woke up to the sensation of tongues on his cock, as was the norm. He let himself relax and sink into pleasure. To think that half a year ago, the idea of even looking at his daughter had felt revolting! How silly he had been. They loved each other. They made each other their best versions of themselves. Their most perverted versions. 

And Kate… how lovely it had all been. Sure, it had taken a little while for her to fully enter the family, but now she and her adoptive sister were inseparable. They went shopping for slutty outfits, they did their camshows together to make Daddy money… they had even made out in front of the Dean when they announced they were dropping out of college to be full-time whores. It was tender, in a way. Kate’s addiction to pain and humiliation had come as a bit of a surprise, but a welcome one- especially by Andrea, who had started to explore her sadistic side more and more.

Of course, they both adored Daddy. They were always ready, always willing to please him. After far too many years of gray, dull effort and solitude, Mike felt happy. He let himself enjoy that fact.

After he came, the girls licked each other clean, moaning as they savored their Daddy’s cum. With bright smiles, they leaped on the bed with Mike.

“Good morning, Daddy!” they said in unison.

Did you enjoy this story? You can get access to the full library and support my work at patreon.com/prettynosferatu

Every bit helps!

[yuri-for-businesswomen]

i have left

hey everyone this will probably be the last thing i post on this blog albeit im keeping it up for resources.

im eternally grateful for how this community has helped me through prostitution and everything, i have amazing mutuals and i have learned so much 💜

but it has become toxic. many of yall cant handle disagreement and default to being as condescending and obnoxious as possible. one of us calling out a post is not enough, we have to dog pile everyone with a slightly shitty opinion. some of yall have severely lost the plot if you ever had it in the first place. not everything is that serious, especially when it comes to online drama.

im sick of it. so many engage in the same bullshit we accuse online trans activists of. this is an echo chamber. so many just mindlessly parrot slogans and arguments. what im very sick of is seeing single tweets or posts by a nobody, usually anonymous, being spread as receipts and shit. you know how annoying it is when everything a self proclaimed terf somewhere on social media says is taken by trans activists at face value and representative of the community when theyre not even radical feminist, just transphobic? yeah. yet a lot of yall do the same by saving and sharing „receipts“ where some random person who claims theyre trans (or not even) says some fucked up or out of pocket shit. you will always find people like that online, from any politicial „camp“ or ideological alignment!

a lot of yall seem to think that debate is about winning and not like, having an exchange of arguments and let the audience come to their own conclusion

and i just dont hate trans people. in fact i feel kinship to any female or homosexual trans person, anyone except heterosexual males. many of yall dont even realise how male centered you are when you more or less equal the trans community to heterosexual men who have a fetish for humiliation and forced feminisation or whatever. who exist and are an issue and i do wish the trans community at large would distance themselves from those men, but its not all there is to it. yes i agree that we need to protect vulnerable young people, girls and especially lesbians and gay boys, from being pushed into transitioning, i think the age of consent should be put at 21 or something, but we have to acknowledge and consider that there are people who have already transitioned and will transition in the future and i just dont understand how you cant have any empathy for them. no matter what you think about transition, many trans people ARE vulnerable and marginalised. plus consider how many detransitioned women are in this community yet yall talk about trans people as mutilated and shit its gross. in the end we can only try to establish structures that keep people from self harming, but an adult of sound mind has the right to do so anyways, including plastic surgery and trans surgeries. and i want to keep my arms open to them; but a lot of rhetoric around it spread on here will only alienate them further.

right now im saving all my essays in notes so its out of my mind. i have missed the community a lot so maybe i will return at some point but i have also been feeling better since i stopped being on radblr. i miss the rare valuable input and thoughts by other women but overall i have felt unaligned with how things have been handled on here. it has been mostly negative instead of constructive and pragmatic. ive had the impression some of yall enjoy the „being in the in-group“ community aspect more than actually being here for feminist exchange. lack of nuance, lack of empathy, lack of reason. it pains me but i have more and more come to understand why people just block us without engaging on general suspicion because ive also come to be annoyed with some of yall engaging with posts - and im on „your side“.

anyways im doing okay, im going to drug counselling regularly now and am trying to establish a stable life for those of you who inquired, and i hope anyone reading this is self reflected enough to know whether this applies to her or not. bye

[dumbasswithapen]

can we just listen to Disabled people when they say what accommodations they need??? Like it really isn’t that hard to just take someone’s word on what is best for their own body! Whether it’s more or less or different than what you deem they need it really isn’t your place to say!!!

Sometimes, people need more than they show! Especially if they’re used to being in pain all the time, then they won’t always display that discomfort.

Sometimes the accommodations someone needs are different than what you assume. A friend who struggles with noise sensitivity may ask for you to turn on a different type of music, instead of turning it down, and if that is what they express they need you don’t have to say “oh no I can just turn it down!” and ignore them saying that that isn’t necessary because your idea of noise sensitivity is different than their own experiences and needs.

And sometimes people need less than you try to provide! Or simply don’t want that accommodation at the time! And here’s the crazy part: this applies even if what they say to do could hurt them. Obviously this isn’t a rule for every situation*, but for some it absolutely is. If your friend wants to tag along for, say, a hike, and they have joint pain it isn’t your place to add in “oh no but they can’t do [the hike]! They’ll be in pain! We have to do something else to accommodate them!” If that person expressed a desire to go, especially if offered other options prior that wouldn’t hurt them, let them live. Let them do the thing that puts them in pain, because Disabled people don’t always want to be shoved into a little box of safety. Absolutely sometimes they do, and some might always want to, but if they don’t, then let them make their own choices for their body. Just as anyone else does. You go out and get drunk, even if it gives you a hangover. You go skating even if you’re shit at it and scratch up your knees a bunch. Just because someone is Disabled doesn’t mean that they can’t do the same thing and do that fun thing that hurts them.

I don’t know if I’m displaying my point how I want, so here’s my own example: I am allergic to the cold. Anything below 60 degrees (f) I get hives. Any water cooler than a fucking warm shower I get hives. My joints don’t do great when it’s cold out. This does not mean that when I say I want to go swimming, you can say “oh but you can’t you’ll get hives!” Or “no you can’t do that you’ll be in pain!” Because. I know that. I know that. I know my Disability better than anyone else can, and I can ask for accommodations I need. I am not a child to be wrapped in bubble wrap so I don’t get hurt. My body is my body and I can do with it what I want, and face the consequences. Likewise, just because I said I wanted to go swimming doesn’t mean that when I don’t want to go out and muck around in the snow it is anyone’s right to say “oh but you wanted to swim earlier, so obviously it isn’t that bad for you!” Or “oh it’s fine it’s not that cold! Just wear a sweater!” Because at that time I need and want different accommodations and that should be listened to and considered accordingly, as far as it can be in that situation.

Seriously. Just listen to us. We are in our own bodies. We know ourselves. It really isn’t that hard

*a situation where this point would be null is, for example, a situation where the person has been peer pressured into doing something, or one where you know the person well and know that the endurance of pain is a self-harming behavior

[wosoragebaiter69]

but i didn't did pour the whiskey

barça femeni x reader

overview: they said getting over addiction wasn't easy, what about when no one knows? what about when relapse happens after a whole year?

A/N: my requests are sitting... but I can't get to them and im really sorry, ive been so busy atm and dont got much modivation for em'

TW: alcohol addiction, self-hatred, relapse, course language, actual detail instead of me brushing over it

!! viewer discretion is advised, i suggest only mature audiences read this !!

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

In all honesty, you'd seen the signs. You'd known the inevitable was coming. The feelings of urge that you'd felt a year ago when trying to stop. You had stopped though, so you ignored it. Then it became more real. To the blank stares at the crates in the stores, rather than the hatred you harboured before after finally being ‘better’.

To walking and judging if you should buy it or not.

To blinking tears out of your eyes, wondering why you'd think that in the first place.

Because why would you, you were better now. Right? That's what you'd told yourself anyways.

It kept amplifying over the course of a week. Until you couldn't take it, until everything you'd worked so hard for for the past year came crashing down. All those memories of countless nights pacing, crying, yelling over a stupid fucking substance fade away.

Guilt. That's all there is. Guilt.

Guilt for betraying your past self who had cried for hours, who felt like she was going psycho over not having a single drink.

But, you can't find it in yourself to stop drinking it. It's just one beer, how harmful could it be? Said by the words of a true fucking alcoholic.

So, you do the only thing you can think of and cry. Cry until your face is numb, your throat burning with every breath, cry until your lungs can't take in any oxygen anymore.

Cry until you feel like you've felt something.

Then when you did stop crying what did you do? The only option you thought you had. Drink more.

- - - - -

You knew you looked like shit, you felt like it too. Your face puffy from the numerous breakdowns the night before, your eyes red from the tears that had an endless flow, dark rings under your eyes from the restless 3 hour sleep you'd got.

Also not to mention the headache you'd acquired. Knowing that only last year if you'd drunk this much, you'd only start to feel something. That's not something to be proud of.

You try your hardest to make yourself look even the slightest bit presentable, getting rid of the puffy face with a shower and taking paracetamol to take away the ache in your skull.

This would do enough to convince them you were fine, it's not like you were the loudest or most obnoxious person on the team. Preferring to observe everything with a smile.

What you didn't consider? Your captains. You're only 22 so even if you're techincally an adult, they're still over 7 years older than you.

So you walk into the lockeroom for training, silently making your way to your cubby as usual. Until, you feel a tug on your sleeve. Alexia is standing there, worry etched into her features.

"You ok? It looks like you've barely slept." Her voice is low and quiet, something you were eternally grateful for.

"Yeah, just a rough night. Thanks capi." You don't lie, but you don't tell the full truth either. She can sense this but doesn't say anymore, allowing you to go back to getting ready.

You take the time to rethink of the previous night, the regret you'd felt immediately after taking the first sip. But, the feeling of being unable to stop.

No matter how much you'd told yourself it was nothing, you know this isn't the end.

You push the thoughts away, clearing your mind of any thoughts before walking out onto the field ready for training.

- - - - -

It was the same people you saw watching you; Alexia, Marta and Mapi. It wasn't every second but enough to showcase they knew something was wrong but just didn't know what.

You had joined in the summer from your old club in Italy. No one knew of the past you'd had with alcohol. It's not like you made an effort to tell them either, they respected your choices not to drink when going out and you didn't need to bring up topics that were from before even moving to Barcelona.

Maybe if they knew, you'd have someone to confide it.

Somehow you'd managed to hide it from your old team as well, but considering the close relationships that Barcelona had with each other you doubted it would be shrugged off as easily.

When training was finally over, you were quick to slip away. As the thoughts and need of what caused you in this melancholic state start to reappear in your mind.

Not now, why after so long did you have to collapse now? When the peak of your career could potentially be around the corner.

You want to survive like a normal person, you want to be able to do things without relying on a fucked up liquid. Why did it have to be you?

And why?

Why is the only thing you can think of to soothe these thoughts, alcohol?

- - - - -

You stare blankly at the open carton, hesitation as you ponder if you should give in or not. Should you drink it? Part of your mind says yes, part of you yearns for it. The rational side says no, and to stop before it's too late.

But wasn't it already?

So you give in. The burning down your throat a painfully familar comfortality.

In a depressing way it makes you more aware of your surroundings, the beer bottles scattered in the room. Liquid all over the floor and on your things. It bothers you, but you can't bring yourself to clean it.

So you sulk, going over past memories. You'd never considered yourself a sad drunk, always being happier and finding a way to goof about while drinking. Then, very rarely toward the end of recovery getting angry. Never sad though.

Times change, people change. You thought you'd changed, but that kind of addiction? It never seemed to leave. Waiting until you're vulnerable to attack. Like an incurable disease.

Before you really comprehend it, the whole box of beers you'd bought yesterday are empty and strown across the floor.

You reach a point of feeling nothing, a numbing feeling brought by guilt, the alcohol making everything seem hazy. Your phone is ringing, but you can't bring yourself to answer. You can't bring yourself to care.

- - - - -

Knocking at your door brings you out of the limboed state you're in. You figure they'll leave soon, and the knocking stops after a minute. Until the door opens revealing the three who had been watching you in the morning.

Alexia is the first to you, the others take in the state of your apartment and walk around elsewhere.

"Hey." It's all she says, but enough for tears to fall from your eyes. You can't bare to look at her face, so you keep your eyes glued to the floor.

"Come on, look at me." She uses her hands to guide your chin so you're looking straight at her.

"Whatever it is, you can tell me." She pauses, "Let's sober you up first." You don't argue, and follow her orders. Exhausted, you pass out as soon as your head hits the pillow.

- - - - -

Waking up was easier than you'd thought it would be, your head not pounding as much as in the morning. It made sense though considering you'd drank less than the night before. There were pills on the side table with a glass of water which you take easily.

The sun is setting so you must have slept for a couple of hours by this point. When you walk into the living room you notice all the rubbish gone, the floors are clean and there's no reminisince of beer anywhere. Alexia, Marta and Mapi are talking quietly amongst themselves and look up once they realise you're awake.

"Come, sit." Mapi pats next to her. You nod silently walking over.

"Would you mind explaining to us what happened? I know you’ve said before don't drink, so this is very new. If you don't want to talk that's also fine but I don't want to see you hurt." Alexia says, she doesn't pry but she does make her point known.

"Ok, but please can you do no talking while I explain? I'm not sure how much I can take if I don't explain it all in one." You're not sure why you opened up so easily, maybe because you desperately craved for someone. Anyone.

"Last year, I was an alcoholic and I can't tell you really when it started. It was to take all the weight and pressure off my shoulders originally, but it turned worse. I just kept drinking regularly and when I tried to settledown, I realised I couldn't. So I didn't stop. It worked for me."

"Then as the season moved on I realised I did desperately need to do something about it but I was just so scared of what people would say to me. How would they react?"

“So instead of getting proper help I did it myself.”

"I got rid of all traces, didn't go out as much. It was horrible. I thought I was going crazy. I wasn't ok at all. I'd obviously relapsed a couple times when trying by myself to recover but it gave me more determination. I'd say it took like 3 months before I truly felt like I was clean."

"Then, I'd had the oppurtunity to play here and it's like everything went away. I should've known better." You sigh.

"Known what? Did you know you were going to relapse again?" Marta asks carefully.

"I saw the signs but ignored them, when I did give in... all I felt was regret, I still do. I think that's why I drank the rest if I'm going to be honest." You look away, not daring to look at any of them.

A pair of arms engulf you, large hands pushing your head to the persons chest.

"Listen to me, we can help you. You won't ever have to do this alone, not while I'm here ok? I don't know much about this, but I'll try. We all will." You start sobbing into her chest, clinging your fists tightly into her shirt. A way to thank them without words.

Because the belief they had in you made you feel like you could do it. Even in these drowning times.

—————————————————————————

i hope you enjoyed fic, this may not be accurate to everyone but this is my experience with battling addiction to alcohol and i write it because i too relapsed after a year recently

this was more for also for awareness and just know that you aren’t alone in anything, if you feel you need someone to talk to i’m always here :)

[firecrackerhh]

I know the “makes me feel so comfortable as a woman!” Is meant to be sarcastic. But like…why is this specific portrayal so fucking uncomfortable for you? You need to get the fuck over yourself.

“Ugh this portrayal makes me feel bad about myself!” Like…why? Do you act like that? Why do you feel bad about it, there’s no harm in loving sex yknow. Maybe you should go to therapy for that guilt complex you clearly have honey.

And there’s no harm in making jokes about it either, like cmon man get the stick out of your ass and lighten up a little.

And if you don’t act like that…why are you whining? Why do you feel ashamed over behavior you do not engage in? Are you saying women who actively enjoy sex should be ashamed?

Hell, do you think porn actresses or only fans models should be ashamed of their career? I don’t deny the issues with the porn industry or whatever, but if they choose to do that, and enjoy it, who are you to say shit?

“Viv’s a misogynist!” I dunno, maybe you’re actually the misogynist if you think women who like to fuck should be shamed actually.

Projecting your insecurities onto other people like that is rather pathetic. Consider self reflection.

[mouthwashingconfessionsblog]

I think the Mouthwashing fandom is bad, not because of shipping, I couldn't care less about shipping, I think the fandom is bad, because people have zero empathy.

As an emotional abuse victim, I see people way too comfortable with saying that Curly's fear responses towards someone who is abusive as fuck as a flaw of character, that if he was a better person he would have reacted with violence. Are we really saying that freezing and fawning while getting emotionally manipulated are signs of a bad person now? Are you guys hearing yourselves??

The ableism is also INSANE in this fandom, seriously, I have seen people literally saying they think post-crash Curly shouldn't even be considered a person anymore.

I know I am talking a lot about Curly, but that's a pattern I noticed during my one month observing the fandom from afar. People in this fandom take abuse as seriously as they would take a joke.

Also people on twitter telling others they should pirate the game, because Wrong Organ told them to be NORMAL and stop harassing people.

It all comes back to the lack of empathy, saying shit that affects real victims, trying to harm the devs financially, crossing boundaries (like it happens a lot in this blog, I am sorry you have to go through this shit), it's all a lack of empathy and self awareness.

Sorry for the rant, but this is really starting to make me mad.

.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

aita for telling someone they're a horrible person and making them relapse?

trigger warning: self-harm, suicide(?)

so im, like many teenagers online, an avid participant of fandom spaces and my current favorite is genshin impact. if you've ever interacted with the genshin fandom you may guess where this is going but i happened to find myself liking a ship that is the big nono ship in this fandom (aka the incest ship, kaeluc) but since i mostly stick to my space and don't really interact with anyone that doesn't already have content of this ship on their account id never gotten into any hot water over it.. until recently.

this person, ill call them rick, suddenly liked a bunch of my (non-ship related) posts. normal interaction, i didn't think anything of if and moved on. (i didn't even notice at the time, but they unliked all of the posts before what happened next, i assume as they realized i was a proshipper and didn't want to associate with me.) next thing i know, the same user is in my askbox, sending me the most vile, hate filled messages i have ever seen.

ok... no biggie. i delete the asks, block them and move on with my life. but it doesn't stop. i had never in my whole life received hate online, but now for the first time ever, i had a dedicated hater, sending me anonymous asks at all times of the day. death threats, dox threats, telling me to kill myself, calling me a degenerate and all that, all with the same consistent writing style. now, one could say that maybe this wasn't rick, and maybe not even all the same person but i really feel like this is the only reasonable explanation considering i have like 6 followers and my most famous post has 3 notes. i don't think im important enough to have that many haters.

so, i did the only thing i could think to do: turned off anon asks. then the asks started coming from random throwaway accounts. ok...turned off asks. then it was dms. turned those off too. THE FUCKING COMMENT SECTIONS OF MY POSTS.

dedication isn't enough to describe this. at this point it's actually becoming distressing to me and im considering closing my whole account cause i just wanna get away from all this. im 16, i don't have the mental capacity to spend all day policing my social media because someone wants me to die for liking fictional incest.

so i very reluctantly unblock rick and send them a dm. i very gently ask if they are the person who has been sending me asks/dms/etc and if they are, if they could please stop because it's become genuinely distressing to me and i just want to be silly on a website. they block me.

alright, im now out of options. everything on my profile is blocked at this point and i don't even want to post anything else so i just kind of leave the account behind for a while. when i come back, i discover that someone HACKED into the account and defaced the whole thing (changed pfp, deleted posts etc etc) so now im genuinely bummed. i go to rick's profile and guess who has been unblocked? i ask them if they can please answer my question. they don't answer but instead tell me i deserve everything ive gotten and i should choke for all they care.

i tell them they're a terrible person and go absolutely off the rails like the dumb, upset teenager i am. i didn't say anything particularly horrible (mostly i just tell them about how awful they've made me feel over fictional shit that really doesn't matter and how i just wanted peace) but i definetely wouldn't like to receive a message like that. and rick didn't either, because they blocked me.

well, since im sure you're wondering where this comes in, here's where i kind of feel like an asshole:

i continued to stalk rick's account on a different blog (because i was bitter. ok?) and they've been posting about how they relapsed into self harm because of a message they received from a stranger and how they've been crying non-stop and this is the worst relapse they've had in years and etc etc and i just got this pit in my stomach. this person's bio says they're 15! i don't want to ever be the reason a fifteen year old is hurting themselves! i've been feeling like a piece of shit ever since (esp since i also deal with sh) and i just feel like the worse person ever. i honestly don't know if i was just acting like anyone else and this was an unfortunate consequence or if i need to go pray for god to forgive my sins or something.

aita?

What are these acronyms?

[shadowofahope]

Eucalyptus || 2.5

Warnings: Swearing, abandonment, hybrids are only considered as pets, mentions of pre-heat and scent triggers, use of medication, overdosing(unintentional), self-harm (unintentional)

Premise: A sugar glider hybrid with a broken past. Seven men convinced they can give her the life she’s always wanted. Sometimes destiny has a funny way of finding you, and sometimes it smells like Eucalyptus.

WC: 1.3K

Masterlist || 001 || 002 || 2.5

Words tumble out of your mouth when you hear the click.

“I need….Can I have more..?” You try to stop your hands from shaking. They haven’t stopped in weeks. 

“Already?” The vet asks from the other end of the phone. He was finishing his paperwork for the day. He had Chinese takeout with his name on it that he was eager to get to when you called. Which was unusual in itself because you never called without one of your owners present or even all of them. “I gave you a 4-month trial, it's only been just over a month. Are they not working?”

You force down the thick lump of saliva in your throat, trying to clear your voice enough to sound..well like you were fine.  “They were…but then- I need something stronger.” 

You were not fine. You hadn’t been since the week you had been given the pills. But you held onto some hope that your body just had to adjust to them, waiting for them to take the discomfort away, the unending need you felt.

“Snow I can’t give you anything stronger, as you are a smaller hybrid they will be fatal if we’re not careful.” He sits up straighter in his chair. Forgoing his paperwork to focus on your words.  “Did you try taking an extra one? That should help without being too much for your body.” 

“I did.” The room starts to spin a little, you stumble to sit on the ground.”...So I took more.”

“How many more?” Now he’s slightly worried.

“Today or ?” You hold your head in your hand, but you're still finding it hard to stay upright. “I started taking 2 but then it stopped working so I took another and then…eventually another…”

“That’s 4. How long have you been taking 4?” 

“A month or so?” 

“How many today?” He was trying to keep calm, but inside he was frantic. 4 is double your max dose. He just hoped today you hadn’t followed the same pattern. 

“Today…today….six…” The urge to vomit was slowly forcing its way higher and higher from your stomach. Every inch you could feel it burning a path through you. You decide it would be best to lay down on the hardwood. The coolness against your clothed back gave a welcome break from the rising heat. “It kept hurting. It wouldn’t stop hurting…”

“I need… I need… I need to morph back. I don’t feel as sick. I don’t want to be sick.” You could hear your own words slowing. Your mouth couldn’t keep up with your mind anymore. Or was it your mind not being able to keep up with your mouth? You couldn’t tell the difference anymore. 

The tantalizing taste of eucalyptus that hung in the air. It was always the only thing your mind could focus on. It felt so thickly enticing. 

“Snow! Do not change into your hybrid-” He’s cut off by a sharp chirp through the phone. “Shit.” 

“Deandra!” He yells out his office door. “I need your hybrid in here now!”

One of the shelters nurses and her raccoon hybrid come running into the room, they had stayed later tonight to help finish getting the new hybrid drop offs comfortable. He shoves the phone at the male hybrid.

“I need you to tell me exactly what she’s saying. Keep her talking.” He instructs sternly. Normally he wouldn’t talk to someones hybrid like this but he doesn’t have the ability to watch his tone or filter his words. 

He reaches over his desk knocking the papers that he was working on onto the floor. He quickly dials your owners number that he has kept on speed dial since his first day visiting you. 

He hears the click of a connect. 

“Seokjin! Thank god. Tell me, are you the one?” He feels out of breathe, like he’s panting. Even though he’s not. 

“Doctor? The one what?” Seokjin’s curious words respond to him. 

“The one who started Snow’s heat.” He clarifies. 

There’s a pause. It takes too long for the other to answer his question. 

“QUICKLY.” He shouts at the younger.

“No. No. its not me. What is happening?!” Seokjin’s concern erupts through his ears.

“You need to get home now, I’ll leave as soon as I can. The pills had a severe negative affect. She’s taken too many.” He explains desperately. He can’t hide the panic in his feet, he’s pacing in the space infront of his desk.

“What?” Seokjin tells himself out loud. “I have to tell the others.”

“No! Only you. Whoever it is will only make this worse. She needs you right now.” 

“I’m leaving.” The younger notifies him as well as anyone else in the room with him.

“I’ll meet you there.” They both hang up, not bothering with any form of goodbyes.

“-Doctor…..” The racoon hybrid calls to him.

“What is she saying??” He’s trying to keep himself from yelling. But the full blown panic that is beginning to set within him is about to break out.

“She’s not… she’s not talking. She’s only making noises, nothing is making sense. I don’t think-” 

He points to the nurse, “Call an emergency vehicle to head there. Tell them it’s critical.”

Rounding his desk, he snatched the phone away from the hybrid shuffling him to the other side and points at him, “Stay.”

“Snow! Hear me. Talk to me. Jin is on his way. You need to change back.” He hears a few other cheeps before loud rustling.

“Liiiiiiving with them…… has maaaade me…. the hppiest…. Ive ever been in my eeentiiiiire liiiiife.” Your voice comes through muffled and slurring. “I would gooo through….. aaaaaall….. the abuse…. I sufferrrrred…. over again….. to have the chance…. to beeee their pet. They loved meeeee doctor…”

“Love, snow. They love you.” 

“I used to….. maaaake themmmmm sooooo haaaaappy….. Theeeey would alwayssss… ssssmiiiile when they ssssaaaaw mmmme…they donnnnnnnn sssmile assssss…… much anymore….. I wisssh they did….. How doo I…. make them sssssmile… again…?”

“They want you to be healthy and happy. That’s all they want.” He tries to quiet his own breath to be able to hear your slow deep attempts.

He hears a bang and rustling from the other end. He hits speaker on his office phone. The other hybrid still in his office, just in case she returns back to hybrid form. God he hopes she doesn’t.

“Snow what happened?”  He can hear Sekjin’s voice now.

“Thesssse…. are…. Pretty’ssss…. Eyesssss.” Her slurring worsens. It’s almost incomprehensible. 

“Snow please. Doctor what do I do?” Jins voice abruptly yells.

“I have an emergency vehicle headed to you now. Keep her awake and don’t let her change into her hybrid form. The medication will only circulate through her system faster.”

“Pretty…. issssn’t sssssmiling.-How do IIIII -maaaaake Pretty …ssssssmiiiiiile again.” He can hear Seokjin sniffling through her attempts at speech. “i kn..ooow. Everyyyyoooone ssssssmiiilessss ….when immmmm -”

“little…” they word escapes out in an exhale. 

Airy faint chirps are heard, he drastitically turns to the other hybrid. 

“Doctor! She’s changed again!” Jin all but shrieks. 

“What is she saying?” He demands of the terrified male hybrid.

“...” He walks closer to listen, his face going pale. “She’s saying… ‘I’ll stay little forever. I’m no trouble when I’m little.’” Listens again “‘Everyone smiles when I’m little….I’ll stay little’…..She’s just repeating ‘I’ll stay little’ over and over again.”

“Snow!” Seokjin whimpers over the phone, his voice breaking. Just like his heart.. “No…. please.” 

“I’M ON MY WAY!” He grabs his things from his drawer and bolts for the door. 

Running to his car he thinks about all the risks, the side affects he had gone over with you, all the late night research he had done. But this isn’t one of the risks that even crossed his mind. He made a vow all those years ago when you first came to the shelter. He promised to find you a loving family, that you would finally be happy. 

He didn’t realize just how dangerous this could be. How there was one thing above all others that could make it all come crashing down…desperation. 

Masterlist || 001 || 002 || 2.5

taglist:@luminaaz, @mingkilovur, @thefirewasfriendly, @malewife-supremacy, @cestlabellemort @purpleskyyyy @aianloveseven @zera10 @roguesthetic, @littlrmills14-blog, @hesmyphenominiall @ottergirl @scrumptioustrash

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I was reading your tweel analyses posts and came across the little blurb of Floyd and Jade eating octopus in front of Azul and seemingly relishing in it because it might unsettle him and they're little shits. their fave foods having octopus in them makes sense since it's part of a diet of moray eels

here's a question I don't see many asking: does Azul eat octopus dishes? I think everyone is aware that octopus can (and do) cannibalize each other (even self-cannibalize) but he is still an octopus merman. do you think the animal based mers like the octatrio view the animals they share similarities with as a completely separate species from them and therefore not care when eating them? or is it sort of like a human and big ape thing, where it is highly uncomfortable and generally frowned upon?

[Referencing this post!]

I think Azul refrains from eating octopus himself! The reasoning being that… well, it’s really a gut feeling that’s informed by my observations of the Octatrio’s interactions.

If he looked annoyed watching the twins eat octopus, then that indicates he feels a certain way in that scenario—a discomfort or irritation which would then extend to his own dietary habits. If Azul did eat octopus, then why should he take issue with his peers doing the same? If both moray eels and octopus dine on octopus, why would he only be distressed in one scenario and not the other? Why would Jade and Floyd go out of their way to eat tons of octopus in front of Azul and bring up mentions of how delicious his merform is, if not to tease and unnerve him?

I do think that merpeople view non-sentient sea creatures they share traits with as separate beings in the food chain. This is why the twins can eat regular ol’ octopus without an issue. However, I also think that eating a creature that is of the same “type” as you (ie Azul and an octopus) is seen as morally wrong, as they too closely resemble the merpeople in question. This would be similar to how humans are fine with eating cow, pig, and chicken, but are far less willing to consume primates. It’s the “human” part of them—of us—our consciouses calling out to us and letting us know “hey, this is wrong”. The only thing I can really find to support this is how Jade says his least favorite food is a conger eel. (But his dialogue suggests he has tried it before and doesn't like the texture.) He and Floyd are morays, which is a different kind of eel... So does that imply that eating others is okay (ie other kinds of eels) so long as they aren't your exact species (morays for the twins)?

Merpeople may be part man and part fish, but I believe they are mainly human with additional fish traits and attributes; their thinking and behaviors are still very human, so I feel they share some similarities with humans in their moral and ethical codes.

The difficulty with half human/half animal fantasy races is that there will always be the debate of how much their animalistic side plays into their behaviors and how much of that can be overridden by their human side. For example, just because Leona is a lion beastman doesn’t mean he can’t eat vegetables, he just does not like them. This is in spite of lions being carnivores (ie exclusively dining on meat). We also see (or it is implied) many merfolk and beastmen eating food that would harm or kill their non-sentient counterparts (such as candy and chocolates during Halloween; you’d think they would otherwise express repulsion if offered what is basically poison to them). The “beastial” TWST characters in general don’t seem too strict on their food intake (specialized diets for athletes aside), so my guess is that their intakes lean more toward the omnivorous intakes of humans rather than the diet prescribed by the animals that are a part of them. After all… if Azul ate octopus, bro would be nomming on his own arm or something (since auto-cannibalism is a thing among octopus) 😭

Side note: Azul considers eating squid ink pasta in book 3. This is probably the closest we'll get to seeing him "eating octopus". Makes me think that it's acceptable to eat like... body parts and byproducts of other animals but not of the same species as you (ie chicken hearts vs human hearts).

Imagine walking in on that though????? I’d say, “Sorry to disturb you, sir! I’ll see myself out now,” then slowly shut the door and back away…

[bleue-flora]

tbh to me c!sapnap is on the same level of betraying c!dream as c!sam. It may seem far-fetched considering what c!sam did and considering we don't have much real lore content with c!sapnap or c!dreamnap, but when you look at what we DO have, it's kind of a picture

like, he's not just some stupid or short-sighted character, as it might seem at first glance - we have a ton of evidence that he understands perfectly well that prison makes c!dream physically and mentally ill, but he agrees with it. In the dialogue with c!michael he literally says "dream fucked up, prison fucked him up in another sense, but it doesn't matter, cause dream has to get better and become *my* dream again, let him stay in prison and improve, even if it breaks him idc", like wtf is this? funny, but at the same time, c!sapnap doesn't visit dream more than once, how will he know that c!dream is making progress? In c!sapnap's head, prison is supposed to be a rehabilitation for c!dream, only no one checks his progress in stopping being a "fucked up", he either sits there completely alone or people go there to hurt him and c!sapnap understands and acknowledged it, but he doesn't give a shit. I'm sorry, but this gives off sam's "I thought I broke his will to do something like that". He obviously doesn't care about c!dream and just wants his good old *convenient* friend, and he doesn't care about the consequences.

But he's not just passively harming c!dream, he's doing it actively. If the threat could still be interpreted as an emotional outburst, something he could say and regret, then his other actions clearly say the opposite. Like, the dude literally stalked and harassed c!dream for months after he found out where he lived??

The revival book was more important to him than torture. Even in the beginning, he didn't care about c!dream's reputation, when c!wilbur and c!tommy dragged it into the dirt for no reason, and he repeatedly went against c!dream or supported things that directly harmed c!dream. For me, one of the most telling scenes is c!sapnap and c!george's meeting with mexican dream's ghost, where c!sapnap, without any reason, pins the explosion of El Rapids on c!dream, and then, when he finds out that actually c!quackity was the one who did it, c!sapnap immediately says that they urgently need to go and find out why he did it, to check if he's okay and all that. This is literally the attitude you'd expect from c!tommy, to attribute every bad event to c!dream, but no, this is his so-called best friend! And of course, he only wants to know the reasons for an action when someone else does a bad action, but not c!dream - well, of course, cause it's clear that c!dream reasons are "being evil" or smth.

So, I've been in my c!sapnap hate arc for over two years now and you all should join me lmao

I didn't think I'd write SO much, but emotions took over after reading the new chapter of your fic and some of your posts, sorry abt that :"^

[context a & b]

Honestly, in my opinion his betrayal is almost worse than Sam’s, which is saying something since he literally enabled and facilitated daily torture. But like Sam wasn’t Dream’s self proclaimed brother, and at least Sam’s delusion kinda makes sense. Sapnap is just like - the chicken tastes rubbery and overcooked, so I put it in the oven and then it tasted burnt, so I put it back in the oven to help the taste and at some point I’ll take it out of the oven and then it’ll taste good again. No idea how long that’ll take, and no don’t be ridiculous I’m not gonna check on it. I swear though if anyone touches my chicken before it tastes good again like so much as removes it from the oven or seasons it I’m gonna throw it in the trash… vs Sam who’s like - the chicken tastes rubbery but I spent money on it so I’m gonna put it in the oven and turn it to charcoal so at least then it won’t be a complete waste…

ya know? Like at least Sam was corrupted by power, financial benefit, manipulated a bit, and had the blood of a “child” on his hands. Sapnap doesn’t even have that, he has a life long best friend who he heard made a speech about not caring about anything and then later a speech about wanting to control everyone, a fish in a item frame and a letter saying “thanks for visiting”…

Well I don’t know about the “even if it breaks him” I don’t think he is thinking that directing about Dream’s suffering if that makes sense, but Sapnap is delusional no doubt. I also don’t know if he even cares that much about the book in general, he just doesn’t seem to given a damn about the torture. He seems to really just be about the fear of what Dream might do and how he needs to be stopped before that.

And you do have a point, in the beginning even as his “brother” he on many occasions went against him, down to the very first disc war where they killed him multiple times. I mean if Sapnap weren’t American, he’d have probably been right alongside clingy duo in L’manberg and stuff… oh I had no idea about the El Rapids thing but am also not surprised…

What do you even mean, I am literally an engineer of this Sapnap hate train 🚂 choo choo! I be shoveling coal to keep this engine running ya know. like literally the more lore I watch the more he actually just kills me.

but anyways, I mean you read the chapter (and presumably the one before) so you know my thoughts on Sapnap lol. ;D

[proshippers-against-censorship]

I have a lot of things to say but I don’t want to be identified, so I’m doing it here. I talk about intrusive thoughts of self-harm and PTSD, just a warning.

-

“Thought crime” isn’t real because it isn’t a crime to be a bad person. We don’t imprison people for being bad people, we imprison them for breaking the law, and morality and legality aren’t always the same thing. Something can be 100% legal, but that doesn’t make you not a shitty person for doing it anyway.

Cheating isn’t illegal in the US unless you’re married (and even then, only 16 states have adultery laws), but I don’t doubt most people would consider habitual cheaters to be awful people, even if they’ve never done prison time for the things they’ve done. You can horribly traumatize someone and still never face punishment for it, because it isn’t a crime, but it is wrong. Crime =/= wrong, and legal =/= right.

It isn’t illegal to be into XYZ thing when you don’t act on it, but that does not mean you aren’t a bad person for engaging with those fetishes anyway. “Thought crime isn’t real” is not a defense in the same way that “well I haven’t gone to jail for cheating on my wife so it’s fine” isn’t a defense. Legality means nothing about your morality or your character. (And that’s not even getting into the huge difference in the law around the world. Something something, western ethnocentrism and our laws being the default when that isn’t true).

People can’t control their intrusive thoughts. People can’t control what turns them on either. But the second it no longer causes you distress or you start engaging with it positively— whether that’s through fantasy or fiction or whatever— it isn’t intrusive anymore, it’s just a thought.

I have PTSD, and I have intrusive thoughts of self-harm sometimes. It scares the living shit out of me, that’s what makes it intrusive. So what do I do when I have those thoughts (as my therapist told me to do)? If I’m driving, I pull over somewhere. If I’m cooking, I turn the burner off and step away. If I’m shaving, I put down my razor. I get away from the thing causing the thoughts, and I come back later when I think I can ignore it a little better. That’s the key part: I ignore it. I don’t normalize the thoughts, because it fundamentally isn’t normal. I don’t find other things I could hypothetically hurt myself with, just to think about it a little more. I don’t find art pieces of fictional characters doing the things I think about, because that only normalizes the thought to me, and that is incredibly dangerous. It takes away the distress, it does not take away the thought. The thought is the root issue, not the distress, because having those kinds of thoughts should be deeply distressing. Anxiety as a feeling is there to tell you that you are in danger. Getting rid of the anxiety doesn’t fix the danger, it just makes you blind to it.

Intrusive thoughts that are sexual in nature and harmful fetishes are the same way. Going from having intrusive thoughts of pedophilia for example to having non-intrusive thoughts of pedophilia changes the context completely, and it is dangerous, just like my thoughts of self-harm. I have a lot of sympathy for those with intrusive thoughts like that, I really do. But I don’t have sympathy for those who are okay with their thoughts. That’s the key difference.

.

[empyrangel]

I can’t find my post from a few years back about the crk fandom’s reaction to Affogato, but anyway, Peach Blossom just released and I’m here to make my Why Can’t the Cis CRK Fans be Normal About Gender Nonconforming Characters Part 2 post.

Seriously, what the fuck? I don’t think the reaction is as bad as with Affogato, but maybe it just looks that way to me because I’m not nearly as active in the fandom as I used to be.

Of course people are sexualizing him, disappointing but not surprising. Before he released, everyone seemed very insistent that he was evil/would pretend to be helpful but later be revealed to be working for Mystic Flour (which is funny in hindsight considering he turned out to be literally just some guy with 2 minutes of screentime). But their justification for why he was so obviously going to be evil was his feminine appearance, which like way to reveal your biases I guess.

I straight up saw one person say they knew he was going to be a trickster type character because of his “deceptive appearance.” What an absolutely unhinged thing to say. Please tell me y’all don’t say shit like this to real people. Imagine seeing a gnc person and going “you don’t look like what I think a person of your gender should look like, therefore you’re manipulative and a liar.”

There’s been a lot of trap jokes as well. Most of them seem to be ironic/self-aware so the people doing them don’t think there’s any harm. But it really doesn’t matter if you’re genuine or not, it still perpetuates a harmful mindset if the joke is the mere existence of gnc people, especially gnc men, being inherently deceptive/outrageous/confusing.

Edit: found the post

[sharkface]

I'm not really interested in getting into this much more after this post but I am genuinely so appalled and disgusted at the level of vitriol directed at me recently for saying I have been sexually harassed on and offline by LGBT people and that I would like it to stop. I have said nothing but "I don't like it when people say extremely sexual things to and about me right away, especially after I've already expressed clear disinterest" and "I don't like it when people assert that I might be of X identity to make me seem more appealing or available to them instead of just asking me" and the responses have been largely to tell me how ungrateful I am and how I should stop complaining because I'll never experience "real" harassment the way I would if I were afab. It's not one or two ignorable incidents of out of touch weirdos feeling empowered to say crazy shit anonymously online, I got over a dozen asks, I've received an insane number of messages outlining the sexual things people want with me, talking about how I'm an effeminate femboy faggot and a bottom, asking me to detail what my dick looks like, which I guess I am asking for by posting pictures of my outfits every now and again, or something? And well. This is all nakedly fucked up, right? Like, these are weird and blatantly homophobic assumptions about my character based on what appeals to the person sending the message.

I'm honestly very confused how we lost the plot on the fact that while misogyny incites more sexual harassment on women than men and men are often the ones inciting said violence because they are structurally empowered and socially encouraged to do so that does not mean that men (including cis men) cannot be meaningfully sexually harassed or assaulted. And well. Clearly we've also forgotten that gay men and bisexual men are hypersexualized and emasculated and assaulted for being gay and especially being sexually submissive or enjoying penetration(which is seen as a given, especially if you look a certain way; I don't think I've ever expressed ANY sexual preference on this blog, nor directly to people I don't know well, but people draw their own conclusions anyway), but for some reason we think all of this isn't a serious offense if another LGBT person does it now.

Like, to me this really doesn't feel that complicated and I really don't think you can "What if they're queer" or "What if they're neurodivergent" your way out of that. I fear a lot of you really do think that you belong to a demographic that strips you of the capacity for harm because you think that having little to no structural power means you also can't have ANY social interpersonal power and that's an alarming precedent to see on the rise among people who somehow still consider themselves radical human rights activists. Like sincerely some of you just will not take responsibility for yourselves no matter what and you dress it up in all this unrelated unjustified cherry picked theory that says you're fundamentally good and any harm you cause is just the collateral of radical self love or something and it's fucking scary. "LGBT people are not inherently predators but this narrative is used to oppress them thus accusations of sexual violence towards them should be examined carefully" and "LGBT people are still capable of being deeply cruel and terrible to each other" are concepts that should not be controversial to anyone but you are all overcomplicating it through bioessentialist pseudofeminism that exists not to combat structural violence but to give yourself a pass for playing into it. You are ceding ground on the absolute most basic gay and trans rights and feminist concepts in the name of fixating on inactionable niches of vibes-based discourse that absolve you of responsibility for your actions and it makes you unsafe to be around.

You are not a radical, you are not a community pillar, you are a hypocrite and an active participant in the endangerment of other LGBT people. Overall, please get fucking real, abandon your emotional need to win arguments online and prove how pure you are at any cost, and start looking at the things that actually happen in the world around you and protect people from THAT instead of acting like everything everyone does should loop back around to making you feel good. And for the love of god. Stop meekly trying to fuck strangers in their inboxes and getting all guilt trippy and defensive and angry and continuing to push for reciprocation when they clearly aren't interested in you. It's not any less fucked up just because you're not a cishet dude.