#a minor got fucking harassed by a grown ass woman

[elevenenthusiast]

The last thing i expected from this post was people being a bunch of cruel assholes in the quotes like what the actual fuck?

[deviantartdramahub]

Sighhh so I really do hate to talk about the forums at all, because from what I saw, that place is an absolute shitstorm that's a headache to even begin to describe but...I just wanna reinforce a point I've been making for ages and give further proof of it. Someone may say it's dumb I'm repeating myself like that, but it's just the people I call out are very fucking stupid, and need things endlessly explained to them so they can have hopefully a shred of realization, and even then that's being too optimistic for their intelligence.

Sooo Evie, one of the morons attacking some good people I care about, specifically Club, one of my most best internet friends, and Tri, a person I don't know quite as well, but still a kind and calm person I know I can trust.

So the only reason people like her are attacking these two is bigotry. Purely bigotry. Club is autistic, and Tri is asexual, so asses who've never matured past high school like to target minorities like them to be cOoL aNd EdGy lolll.

I've already provided so much proof for this but...why not add some more, because as I've said, it's very unfortunately necessary when the bad people I have to deal with are completely brain-dead. So the forums, I've looked at the posts about them, and internally groaned at the thought of ever having to cover that shit myself. This will hopefully be the only time I do so. In the forums, I've seen Evie use slurs. Examples include...http://web.archive.org/web/20240516215957/https://www.deviantart.com/forum/community/complaints/2736800

https://www.deviantart.com/comments/18/2689626/5031912084 (In EdelgardMoon's thread...also Evie don't think your cringe-ass UWUifying the word gives you a pass lol, we know what you're trying to say.) AND SHE ALSO SAYS THE FUCKING N-SLUR IN EnryoAlpha's THREAD??? (Albeit once again butchered bc I guess this bitch thinks being SOOO QUIRKY AND RANDOM RAWR HEHEHEE XD makes it okay to say horrendous things lmao.)

Anyways Evie, it's clear to me you're a nasty person who doesn't give two shits about other people, you probably vomit at the very thought of giving another human being basic respect. You don't want to call out genuinely horrible people to help and protect others honey, nah, you just want to make up crap excuses for your bigotry, and it shows. I've got you in a corner, and I'm eagerly awaiting your excuses to escape. You're lucky you got that tail between your legs, or that kick in the groin would be real painful!

Anndd also, you may piss and whine about me harassing you or whatever lol, but I'm not gonna hear that shit when you actually do that for real everyday for funsies. Though I know you really are a coward, considering the fact on this very website you contacted me only to block me from saying anything else! XD

Fight the battles you start dear, lmao. You acting the way you do doesn't make you cool or funny, you're just pathetic and it's sad you're a full grown woman spending your life like this.

Anyways bye bye, God these people are getting more and more pathetic and laughable.

Agreed, regardless of her defense she might wish to give. Of note, she flunked school, so the school part may have another meaning.

[nerdby]

I am really fucking annoyed by the way that I was getting harassed by antis after I made a post about Clint Barton and Kate Bishop being in a situationship in Hawkeye Volume 1.

Cause not only did this continue after I had already said I don't support the ship but also all I did was ask a fucking question. Also way to fucking infantilize grown ass women -- Kate is in her twenties in that book -- because you can't wrap your heads around the idea of an adult woman being able to identify a predator on her own. Or that healthy age gap relationships exist.

Because they do. In fiction and real life, and before anyone asks I am single and that is on purpose because of my mental health. Because I was date raped in 2019 and haven't recovered from it unfortunately, and I don't date people under the age of twenty-seven because I'm in my thirties and most twenty-somethings are way too immature for me.

I don't have kids, I don't want them, and I don't go out of my way to interact with minors.

I also do not support ships about pedophilia or incest. By that I mean that I do not go out of my read about it and I do not enjoy writing about it. It makes me deeply uncomfortable, but I have read books on the subject and even though they make me uncomfortable some of them were good books that I have enjoyed. And I read those books because I want to understand why these things happen and how they can be prevented, and because I have an interest in psychology.

Y'all have got to stop and realize how deeply problematic it is to assume that just because someone enjoys "problematic" media that that makes them a bad person, and how calling everyone who disagrees with you a pedophile just makes you sound batshit paranoid. And if you genuinely think that someone enjoying toxic romance novels, for example, makes them an abuser or whatever then you are paranoid.

And the people doing this -- the minors -- congrats on being pearlclutching puriteens. You are well on your way to being the next generation of queerphobic radfems, white supremacist cops, and evangelist republicans because you refuse to acknowledge anyone whose opinions differs from your own.

You are no different from the pearlclutchers who pushed Satanic Panic bullshit in the 1980s and who make up Moms For Liberty today.

You wanna know why people love problematic media?

Because it is cathartic. Not just for creatives, but for the audience. It allows us to explore our fantasies and fears in a safe, healthy way because no one is getting hurt. It lets us feel brave and empowered even. That is it. It's not that deep.

And the next fucking anti who decides to harass me over bullshit is getting blocked.

[faenemy]

i fucking hate this one woman who keeps coming into the store i work at

first she slut shamed my 15 year old coworker which like whatever you gotta do to make yourself happy you grown ass woman (i am still upset about this)

fucking harasses us every time she comes in

openly talks shit about us and how much she fucking hates us (why does she keeeeepp coming bacccckkkk)

literally picked up our jewelry case then got made when an employee frantically told her to put it down and had the AUDACITY to ask her what she was doing

-and then she came in fucking recording us so that she could get us in trouble or something

idk its really creepy and i dont like the fact that while i was literally just doing my job and showing her jewelry she was filmy me :[ it genuinely makes me super uncomfortable just thinking about (customers seem to love violating my basic boundaries rn)

but like she legally cant film half of the employees there because even though where i live only requires one party to consent to a recording that doesn't include fucking minors- which a lot of the staff are

i just dont like how fucking obsessed she seems to be specifically with my coworker who i mentioned she slut shamed earlier + her bestie

theyve defo antagonized her a bit and she knows they don't like her but like still wtf why are you trying to record them

anywho this bitch came back today recording us and i just want her to fuck of for real i cant stand her rude ass and she thinks shes fucking subtle waving her phone around trying to get our faces on camera but she really isnt

i just want customers to stop commiting crimes against employees for like a week or two is that so much to ask

[blackynsupremacy]

LONG ASS RANT:

we need to talk about this episode and how SCARY it is. by scary, i mean real. this needed to be an episode where the actors had to sit down and tell us that shit was gonna get real. lana was fed up with being harassed, attacked, and stalked and she has the right to be!! no one really had her back besides lex. i felt like clark was really more focused on how to get that lawsuit dropped from lana’s attacker (he doesn’t deserve his name ik he fake but this episode felt too real) more than checking in on her. it pissed me off that the new sheriff (a whole woman) was very incompetent when it came to lana’s assault and helen’s stalker.

example: the sheriff said lana didn’t have a case because it was “hearsay” man wtf are you talking about? no one else outside of lana and clark were witnesses that can recount the whole incident. another thing, lana never got asked if she needed other resources like medical care? shawty got thrown into a whole metal cart full force!! my shit would’ve been fucked up, but her attacker faked the “injury” clark rightfully gave him and he got sympathy??? lana was a whole minor who almost got sa’ed by this grown ass man, but society is coddling the man, the adult. i felt so mad for her because she wanted to keep herself busy and calm, but i know she was raging on the inside and thank goodness lex actually listened to her and let her channel that anger in a healthy, badass way. i loved when she finally got to kick some ass! she was fed tf up!

another example of the sheriff’s incompetence: dr. helen bryce and her crazy ex stalker. i swear lex luthor was really coming through in this episode because he knows what it’s like to be harassed, bullied, and stalked. i know he tried to warn helen, but i’m not blaming her at all because she already knew what type her ex was, a woman beater. i’m still pissed that when lex tried to bring up how that psycho pulled up on helen in the parking lot to the sheriff, she really said “he tried to offer her a ride home and some flowers, there wasn’t really any harm done?” oh, so women got to accept anything a man offer no matter how fucking creepy he is? ya’ll know what makes this episode scarier? it took helen to be an inch from her life for that sheriff to actually give a damn!! when it comes to abuse and violence against women, think about a perspective where they did attempt to get help and the help wasn’t helping until it was too late. that’s where the ball was dropped. everything worked out in the end because dude got sent away, but still the system failed lana and helen.

another thing i liked was when chloe was talking with clark and clark was genuinely confused on why women shouldn’t always want to be saved by a man. chloe had to sit that boy down and get him together. she was so real when she said “you don’t know how scary it is to walk down the street and then look over your shoulders every time you hear the slightest sound of footsteps” (or something like that, it was real asf) and chloe understood that lana wanted that power back because when no one listens to the victim, you feel powerless.

so yeah, that episode is so damn real it scared me and had me angry.

SMALLVILLE 2.19 “Precipice”

[lizzielikeborden]

Just A Stranger

Request: general #17 for diego?

Character: Diego Hargreeves

Prompts: General- #17 “Are you jealous?”

To be completely fair he was unaware of the situation ahead of time. Your whereabouts were completely unknown, if you were dead in a ditch you were gone before he woke up so what you were wearing was also mystery, and unlike usual you did not leave him a little list of things you were going to do. Usually this would be “- work, - grocery store - pharmacy - picking up dinner”. Not such a minor detail as “I’ll be home about 30 minutes later than usual”. Little ref whistles and red flags popped through his head the moment he lifted the note to flip it over to see if maybe you had written more. But, there was nothing, it was completely blank. Diego stared at the note, and kept reading it over trying to make sure he wasn’t missing anything. After doing so he jumped up from where he sat, hitting his knee against the table due to not pulling the chair back enough to get out of the seat properly. 

My god where did I hang the clock. He thought to himself as he ran around much too anxious to find anything, including something you made him put up that he dropped on himself multiple times. Once he had finally made a full circle, seeing that the clock was directly above the front door. 

Okay wait. She gets off work at 3:30 PM and it’s 4:30PM. He counted on his fingers a little and refocused multiple times just to make sure his math was correct. The second the realized that he was right he dead sprinted out the door. 

She has to be in some sort of trouble. His heart raced faster than he ever thought it could. Once he got in the car he did not even think to put on a seatbelt or even completely shut the door. Lead foot Diego took off down the street, went 80mph in a school zone, and almost hit multiple people. In his mind you were already dead, stuck in the trunk of car, getting tortured, or getting harassed. About five minutes into driving he realized he had no idea where you even were. He knew not work, because you did not like to stay after due to horror stories Diego had told you about things that have happened in seemingly empty parking lots. So, he checked the grocery store parking lot and did not see your car. He went past the pharmacy because no cars were anywhere to be found in that tiny little lot. As he went past, he saw what looked to be your car at a nearby gas station. 

Mother fucking christ this light could not be any longer. Diego smacked the top of the steering wall with both hands as hard as he could. The light seemed to be red for ages. It was so long that he could tell you were not in your car, nor at the pump next to the gas tank. The light turned green and luckily he was in the front or a fun game of bumper cars and trade insurances would have happened. His tires squealed as he made an incredibly sharp turn into the parking lot.

That’s her car. Where the hell is she? He read your license plate and looked around the pump, you were no where to be seen. Diego parked his car and grabbed knives from the middle consul. He hid them from direct public view and stepped inside. Detective police officer vigilante Diego was on the loose now. He was looking everyone up and down. A few shady characters were present, but none were walking toward your car or a car big enough or in good enough shape to have a human hidden inside. 

Diego walked up the counter and stood for a moment, gathered his words to make sure he wouldn’t stutter, and then spoke “Hey man, you seen a (description of you) looking woman inside?”

“Yeah, she came in to pay for gas and then this other dude came in. He was having issues with is gas so she went out to go help him.” The man behind the counter pointed at the gas tank next to yours where the car once was. “She left with him.”

Diego’s blood boiled, not just out of anger, but with hints of anxiety. Why the hell would she get in a car with a strange man? They must know each other. No wonder I got such a short note. He stormed out the gas station and slammed the door. The bell that hung over top hit the glass and broke a small section. She’ll come back for her car. And I will be here when she does. He sat parked and tapped his foot and left hand vigorously. 

15 minutes later

Diego’s anger was no where near settled. In fact the longer time went on the angrier he was becoming. His mind was running in circles around the same terrible thoughts. The cashier did not give a description of the vehicle but the moment the little blue sports car pulled in Diego’s instincts picked up. His suspicions were confirmed when you stepped out of the car and waved at the man who did not step out. 

Oh fuck no. Diego got out of his car and stepped directly in front of the little sports car. It tried to maneuver around him but he had other plans, taking out a knife he ran and rolled across the ground. The blade cut straight through the tire like butter. The car spun and came to a halt.

“Diego?!” You ran over to the man now on his feet, you put a hand on his shoulder and he jumped a bit. Harshly he turned toward you. 

“Y/N, what a pleasant surprise! I would never expect to see you here at the most shady ass gas station in a car with another man after leaving a vague mother fucking note.” 

Your eyes came out of your head, you did not expect this, or any of that day to happen. No words were forming as a very very angry Diego stood in front of you. So, you just blurted out the first thing that came to mind, 

“Are you jealous?” You could see in Diego’s eyes that out of every single sentence, phrase, or word you could’ve said those were the wrong ones.

“Jealous? Should I be?” He took a step back instead of anger he seemed more upset. 

“No of course not. He’s a total stranger.” Diego’s mouth hung open, his eyes popped out of his skull, eyebrows furrowed. and his head was tilted. 

“YOU GOT INTO A VEHICLE WITH A COMPLETE STRANGER? AND THEN LEFT WITH THE STRANGER?” He yelled in frustrating and swung his arms around. 

“Excuse me bu-” The so called stranger you were with stepped out of his car but did not get a full sentence out before being shut down by Diego,

“You have two choices, fuck off, or more than just that tire will be slashed.” Diego did not even have to turn around to intimidate him before he ran back to his car and called someone to come get him. “Now back to you. What in the hell were you thinking?” His tone did not change but his demeanor did, he was much quieter and a bit calmer. 

“Well. I have been running late all day. I actually did not have a plan, so I assumed 30 minutes late was already how far behind I was. I just assumed my day would be about 30 minutes behind. Once I got about here I realized how low my gas was so I decided to get some, and that guy was having horrible trouble. So I stayed and helped him pump his gas but it wouldn’t work, I offered to help him again and we went to the gas station up the street.” You explained.

“You cannot be helping grown adult men or getting in cars with them. Hell any strangers for that matter. I know you think you are oh so capable but in real situations people tend to become a whole lot less capable.” He grabbed your hand and squeezed it, still keeping some distance between the two of you. You couldn’t really argue with him. You had never been in any situation like that so you couldn’t prove him wrong. Statistically he was correct. You gently pulled for him to come closer. He did so. 

“Thank you for being protective and cautious. You just care, more than normal, but you care. I shouldn’t have done that. But Mr. Vigilante you should not have slashed that poor mans tire.”

“You need to be happy I didn’t slash his thro-.”

“No no, we do not need to work you back up.” You put a hand on his cheek and made him look at you, you shook your head at him.

“What am I gonna do with you?” He smiled and leaned down, he matched your action and placed a hand across your cheek and kissed you softly. 

You gave it a moment and pulled back, “I could ask you the same thing.”

You took your keys from you pocket and started to walk back to your car.

“I will be following closely behind you the entire way home. Do not test me.” Diego commented as he wandered back to his car.

You smiled and took off faster than him down the street. You were gonna be the death of him... 

[yourdeepestfathoms]

God Forgive Us All (part two)

[Carrie Au]

Part 1

(Read Anne as Courtney!Anne)

Word Count: 5059

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

-Open Your Heart-

The downpour outside felt unnatural and unstoppable and utterly, unpleasantly wet. And Aragon loved it. She especially loved the moaning, groaning, dripping slowpokes of her exhausted actresses.

  “Alright!” Her voice had boomed across the auditorium half an hour earlier. “Line up! Let’s go, ladies!”

The actresses had hurried into a line on the stage, exchanging confused glances. Aragon looked a lot more menacing than she usually did, riled up to her full size like a venomous snake or a lioness about to strike. She stared at the group of women as if they were mangled roadkill that not even the lowest of scavengers would want to eat. 

  “Come on! Move your asses!” Aragon barked. Luanne and Piper, eyes front! Clarissa, shut your mouth! And Kitty, spit out that gum right now! You know it’s not allowed on the stage!”

  “Where should I put it, Miss Aragon?” Kitty asked sweetly.

  “You can choke on it for all I care,” Aragon hissed in her face. “Just get it out of your mouth.”

Kitty stepped back and grit her teeth. She gave up after a moment, groaning softly while spitting her gum into the wrapper it came in and putting it into her pocket to throw away later.

  “Good,” Aragon said, stepping back. “Margaret, wipe that smirk off your face.”

Maggie, who had been grinning devilishly up until that moment, jolted and bit her lips into a flat line. At her side, Jane glowered at Aragon. Aragon glowered right back at her.

  “Now,” Aragon began slowly, pacing up and down the line of actresses. “What you did yesterday was a shitty thing. A really shitty thing. Have any of you ever stopped to wonder if Joan Meutas had feelings?”

Nobody spoke, although Maggie did dare to roll her eyes, earning her the evilest glare from Aragon.

  “I expected better of you all.” Aragon went on. “Most of you are grown adults! Julie,” She whipped her head towards a woman with olive skin and curly auburn hair. “You have a daughter, don’t you? You’re a mother! How could you do such a thing?”

Julie opened her mouth, but then immediately shut it and narrowed her eyes at the floor, unable to come up with a mature response. Aragon sneered in disgust.

  “But Joan isn’t her daughter,” Kitty said. “She shouldn’t have to care about other kids. Only her own.”

  “That still gives her no right to throw fucking tampons at a frightened child!” Aragon growled. “Joan is sixteen. Do you all know that? She’s just a kid. A minor. And I could have you all arrested for harassment. Sexual harassment, too, I’m sure, seeing as she was naked.”

That seemed to get through to some of them, as they exchanged worried glances and a few murmurs. Jane gave Aragon a “you wouldn’t dare” look, while Aragon raised an eyebrow and gave one right back at her that said, “try me.”

  “As you know, opening night is coming up,” Aragon said. “Jane. Have anyone special you’re bringing?”

Jane looked Aragon up and down skeptically. “His name is Henry Tudor.”

  “Oh, how fancy,” Aragon said. “Is he going to wear anything nice to the show? Or are you just going to pin a bloody tampon to his shirt and tell him to go like that?”

Jane bared her teeth at Aragon’s smirk. She tried to march past the woman, but she’s grabbed roughly by the shoulder and shoved back into place.

  “Oh, you aren’t going anywhere,” Aragon said. She turned to Anne after releasing Jane and studied her guilty expression. “What about you, Anne? Got anyone you’re bringing to opening night?”

Anne looked profoundly uncomfortable, just how Aragon wanted her. She wanted all of the actresses to squirm like there were worms under their skin. She wanted them to feel in their souls what they did to Joan.

  “My family,” Anne said. “Cathy will already be there.”

  “Hm,” Aragon shot a glance at Cathy standing nearby, who was trying very hard to act like a harmless statue. “Maybe.”

That made Cathy move from her statue-like position. She looked at Aragon in confusion. “What do you mean?”

  “My idea of punishment for this little trick you pulled was to fire all of you,” Aragon said. The smirk on her lips twitched higher when the group exclaimed in shock and disbelief. “That’ll hit you where it hurts, doesn’t it? It’s what you all deserve.”

  “You can’t do that!” Jane growled.

  “I can, actually,” Aragon said. “We have understudies. Hell, I’ll even get the boys to play your roles! However.” She stared down at all of them. “The director doesn’t want to go to that extreme just yet. So instead, you are all to have mandatory warmups with me for a week. It’ll be an hour long and you will do whatever I say for you to do or else you’ll be packing your things and never coming back. Do you all understand?”

There are nods of agreement with gritted teeth.

  “Wonderful.” Aragon smiled. “Go take a lap around the block. Five laps, actually. And recite all of your lines while you do so. Get those leg muscles warmed up for dancing.”

  “But—it’s raining.” Kitty said, clearly dismayed about having to get wet.

  “I don’t care,” Aragon said silkily. “Go! Now!”

There had been a moment of hesitation, but after she yelled again, the actresses realized she was being serious and filed out of the auditorium in a disbelieving, muttering mass of grumpiness. Aragon shook her head with a sigh, watching them go. She then turned around to go wait somewhere else when she had noticed the head peeking out from the wings. A kind smile formed on her lips.

  “Hello, honey,” She greeted Joan warmly. “Come here. No need to hide.”

Joan hesitated, then shuffled out of the dark wings. She had her fingers wrung in her shirt and kept glancing around everywhere, expecting there to be something that may humiliate her just waiting around for her.

  “How are you feeling?” Aragon asked, easing an arm around Joan’s shoulders. She almost pulled away when she felt Joan stiffen, but then she was leaning against her with a small, content noise. 

  “Umm... F-fine.” Joan mumbled awkwardly. “Did you really make them run?”

  “I did,” Aragon said proudly. “They deserve it.”

Joan nodded very slowly, like she was trying to convince herself that that was true. 

  “Thank you.” She whispered. “I-I never told you yesterday. I-I’m sorry...”

  “No, no, honey,” Aragon said. “It’s totally fine! You must have been so overwhelmed yesterday.”

Joan nodded again and Aragon gently cupped her face. She leaned into that touch, too. The poor thing must not get much affection at home, Aragon realized sadly.

  “I am so sorry that happened to you, Joan.” Aragon said. “You didn’t deserve that at all.”

  “B-but my mama s-said—”  She snapped her mouth shut quickly.

  “What?” Aragon tilted her head. “What did your mother say?”

Joan shook her head, looking a touch uncomfortable. She shuffled her feet. 

  “N-nothing,” She stuttered. “I-I need to g-go do my schoolwork. B-bye, Miss Aragon.” 

She began to hurry away, paused, then rushed back over to Aragon and gave her a quick hug.

  “Thank you,” She whispered softly before pulling back and scampering off.

Aragon was left awestruck. She had never expected Joan Meutas to hug her, but she didn’t mind in the slightest. A loving smile spread on her lips.

Sweet girl... She thought, and she continued to fondly think about the shy little pianist until the auditorium doors had swung open and the group of actresses she sent running came hobbling back inside in a soaked heap.

Aragon watched in amusement as they floundered up to the stage, looking as though they had been dredged from the bottom of one of the canals. A few of them, like Maggie and Kitty, flopped right to the ground like a soggy blob, while others doubled over and panted or held their hands behind their heads and raised their arms to try and get more air into their lungs. No matter what position they took, they all looked equally cold, equally soaked, and equally miserable. Just how Aragon wanted them. 

  “You—you can’t do this to us,” Jane hissed through heavy breaths. She was kneeling to rest her legs, glaring up at Aragon, who was still smiling pleasantly. “We could catch our death out there!”

  “I’m sure a little Swine Flu would teach you not to harass a teenage girl,” Aragon said dismissively. “Alright, ladies, break’s over. You still have twenty minutes of warmups before rehearsals start and I want you to—”

  “No.”

Aragon stared down at Jane. She watched as she rose up to her feet, eyes flashing like a vengeful white tiger’s. 

  “No?” Aragon echoed.

  “Jane...” Anne muttered cautiously from where she was sitting down. 

  “I’m not doing another goddamn thing you say,” Jane clarified, “because Joan Meutas got her period and was too stupid to know what it was.”

There’s a scattering of murmurs throughout the group. Aragon’s expression looked frighteningly calm, but anger was flickering in her dark eyes.

  “Alright,” She said slowly, venom oozing from her lips. “You’re out.”

Jane is taken aback. “Excuse me?”

  “You’re out.” Aragon said more firmly. “You will not be performing opening night.”

  “No!” Jane yelled. “You can’t do that! You don’t make those calls!”

  “I just did, Seymour.”

  “Well, you can just stick it up your—”

Jane is cut off when she’s hit so hard she nearly toppled over. The sound echoed through the auditorium, much louder than when Joan had been slapped the day before. While that slap had been done to snap a frightened girl out of her panicked trance, this one had been done purely out of rage and hatred.

  “I do not want to hear another word from you!” Aragon roared, grabbing Jane by the collar of her shirt and shaking her viciously. “You will not be performing, do you understand me? And if I gave my way with the director, you will never be performing for this show ever again! Now go!”

Jane stared at her in disbelief, tense in the grasp that held her. 

  “GO!” Aragon bellowed, shoving Jane backward. Jane stumbled, then finally sulked off of the stage, cradling her welting cheek and muttering, maybe even crying. “Now...for the rest of you...” 

Aragon turned her flashing eyes to the group.

  “Run Suicides. Now.”

———

  “Well, that was plain awful,” Cathy muttered, peeling off her wet clothes. Rainwater and sweat have made them soggy and unbearable. She felt like she was chafing all over. “Could be worse, though, right, Annie? Anne?”

She turned around when she didn’t get a reply to see her girlfriend sitting on one of the shower benches, deep in thought. She pulled on a dry shirt and walked over, gently touching Anne’s shoulder.

  “Babe?” She said. “What’s wrong?”

  “Oh, nothing,” Anne smiled up at her. “Just...thinking.”

  “About?” Cathy sat next to Anne.

  “Joan.”

Cathy furrowed her eyebrows. “Joan? How come?”

  “Cathy, what happened yesterday was awful. I feel /terrible/. And I want to do something about it.” Anne said. “I want to help Joan.”

  “How?”

Anne thought for a moment, then perked up. Her eyes had a new light in them.

  “We be her friend!” She declared. 

Cathy blinked. “That’s all?”

  “Cathy, when I asked her if she was okay yesterday, she looked like she was ready to get on her knees and worship me.” Anne said. “She wants someone. She /needs/ a friend. And we can be that for her!”

Cathy thought it over briefly, then smiled and nodded. “Alright. Let’s do it.”

Anne beamed. “Oh, thank you, Cathy!” She gave her a quick kiss. “You are the best! Come on, let’s go find her!”

It was harder than they expected to find Joan Meutas. She usually wasn’t with anyone, not even the other musicians who she had to work with, preferring to be alone to avoid ridicule. Cathy and Anne searched for a good twenty minutes before they finally stumbled upon her by accident in the upstairs costume room. 

The room was on a separate floor from the main second level of the theater. You have to go up a flight of black stairs in one of the dark wings and stand on an equally black ledge to open up a large, heavy wooden door that never made a single noise when its hinges would move. When you stepped inside, there would be two places to go- a ladder with its paint peeling on the left that led up to the catwalk, which was where Cathy and Anne had been meaning to go to get a better view of the auditorium, and then the extra costume room on the right. Old, shabby, unwanted costumes were kept in there, so nobody usually went in there. But from the way Joan was tucked cozily in a rack of indigo and azure dresses and frayed blue wool ponchos, it seemed like she visited this room quite often.

When Anne had first joined this specific West End theater, she distinctly remembered the extra costume room being a mess- suits thrown on the floor, shoes lying around listlessly without a matching pair, cardigans hung up with pants. It was like a tornado had blown through a clothing store. But now everything was sorted neatly in rainbow order. All the reds were with the reds, all the oranges were with the oranges, and so on. There were also several books stacked against one of the racks and a fluffy blanket that Joan was currently using. 

When Joan noticed Anne and Cathy standing in the doorway, staring at her, she jumped three feet in the air so fast that the pair of women were even startled. She scrambled to her feet, nearly sending the rack of blue clothes she had been snuggled in toppling onto her.

  “I-I-I’m sorry!” She yelped. “I-I-I d-d-didn’t mean to ignore w-work! I-I just—”

  “Hey, hey, shh,” Anne took a small step towards her. “It’s okay. We’re not mad.”

Joan wasn’t convinced. Not that Anne or Cathy blamed her. They could both clearly see the hurricane of grief and guilt and fear and anxiety that had apparently taken the place of logical thought in this girl’s head. Everything, every little thing, was a worst-case scenario to this girl. Everything ended in a disaster to her.

To be around Joan was to walk on shaky grounds, and Anne and Cathy had to tread carefully.

  “I’m Anne, remember?” Anne said, trying to look as friendly and nonthreatening as possible. “And this is Cathy.”

  “I know you who you guys are,” Joan mumbled. She looked down at the floor. “I’m not dumb...”

  “I bet you aren’t at all,” Cathy said. “I bet you’re really smart, huh?”

The way Joan looked at Cathy... She so badly wanted to trust both her and Anne. But years of hurt and ridicule that stretched far before her time at the theater lingered and made her put up more walls than any person should ever have. She shrunk further into her mental shell and merely shrugged in reply to Cathy’s comment, looking away again.

  “What were you reading?” Anne asked, glancing at the book Joan had been reading before she was startled to her feet. 

  “Oh,” Joan hurried over to the book and gingerly picked up. She looked absolutely mortified when she saw the cover page had been bent a little on the corner when she dropped it. “I-it’s, umm—” She floundered, simultaneously worked up about the book and the two women talking to her. “Th-The Crucible.”

  “Oooh,” Cathy cooed in interest. “That’s a good one.”

Joan nodded as she was trying to fix the crease. “M-my mama said that— I-I mean mum— mother— umm—” She whimpered sharply, looking around in dismay.

She still calls her mum “mama”, Anne thought with a small smile. That’s adorable.

It was so sad about how embarrassed she was getting over it, though.

  “Joan, it’s alright.” Anne assured her. “You can call your mother whatever you want. We’re not going to make fun of you for that.”

That mixed look of adoration and shock from the day before returned, but this time much brighter. 

  “You— Thank you.” Joan bowed her head in a grateful way. She ran her thumb over the whitened crease against the corner. “B-but—she said that I need to read books like this. S-so I will know what will happen if I sinned.” 

Anne and Cathy both exchange worried looks. Joan doesn’t notice, nor does she notice Cathy’s grimace. Now things were starting to fall in place a little more. 

  “I see,” Anne said slowly.

  “Well, I don’t think you have anything to worry about.” Cathy said. “You’re a very good girl, Joan.”

Joan blinked at her in delight.

  “What else do you like to read?” Anne asked. She glanced over at the stack of books against the wall, only to find them all dealing with Christianity in some way. “Harry Potter? Hunger Games? Percy Jackson?”

  “Oh, no,” Joan shook her head. “My mama says that stuff was made by the devil and will rot your brain. I’m not allowed to read books like that.”

What an awful childhood she must have had, Anne thought sadly, tilting her head at Joan. Poor thing.

  “Well, if you ever need book recommendations,” Cathy said. “I read a lot. So I know a few.” She winked at Joan, and, for the briefest of moments, Joan cracked a tiny ghost of a smile. 

But then it went away in an instant, snuffed out like a candle in a winter whirlwind because caution and worry were shoving their way into Joan’s brain. She looked Cathy and Anne up and down again, then stepped back. She’s retreated back into her shell, suddenly frightened.

  “Wh-why are you doing this?” She asked softly, hugging her book close to her chest like she thought it may protect her from cruel words or even physical blows. “Wh-why are y-you...” She trailed off, looking away.

  “Oh, Joan,” Anne murmured. “We want to be your friend.”

Joan stared at her with impossibly wide eyes. Then, she’s stumbling over her words- “You want to- I’m your- you like- no- no- you can’t- you will hurt- no- no- no!”- and trembling. Cathy reached out to comfort her, but she cried out and darted under her arm and out the door. They both heard her run haphazardly down the black staircase and somewhere further into the theater, leaving them defeated and saddened.

  “Well,” Anne breathed. “That could have gone better.”

———

Aragon found her curled up under the piano in one of the rehearsal rooms with her knees to her chest, crying. She had been going to find the prop master to see if the blanks for the guns had come in, but that was the last thing on her mind when she heard the soft sniffles and whimpers of Joan Meutas.

She hurried inside, setting her cup of tea and script down on one of the shelves immediately, and knelt down in front of the piano. Joan’s head jerked up, but her frightened eyes softened slightly when she realized it wasn’t anyone that wanted to hurt her.

Joan trusted her.

A flutter of joy tickled inside of Aragon, but she pushed it aside for the moment. She examined Joan, luckily finding no open wounds or gashes or bruises, but any pain inflicted on her to make her cry could easily be mental and emotional, not physical. 

  “Joan, honey,” She said softly. “What’s wrong?”

Joan sniffled and wiped her eyes with her sleeve. She was doing her best to not look at Aragon, but she seemed to crave the warmth and tenderness in her eyes.

  “N-nothing,” She whispered so quietly Aragon almost didn’t hear it.

  “Did one of the girls do something to you?” Aragon asked. 

Joan shook her head wordlessly. Aragon crawled underneath the piano and sat down next to her.

  “Then what is it?”

Joan hesitated a moment, sniffled, then whispered, “S-someone asked to be my friend.”

Aragon’s eyes lit up. “Oh, Joan, that’s wonderful!” She beamed. “Who was it?”

  “A-Anne Boleyn and C-Cathy Parr,” Joan told her. She clasped her hands together tightly. “I-I know who they go around with Miss Aragon. They’re just gonna trick me again...”

Aragon frowned. She knew that Joan was wary of people, but it seemed like her social anxiety and fear of others ran much deeper than she thought. She couldn’t even believe that someone wanted to be her friend.

  “Well, maybe they’re not,” Aragon said, hoping to raise Joan’s spirits. “Maybe they really mean it.”

  “But why?” Joan looked up at Aragon and her eyes were so, so sad. Aragon wished she could reach inside of her and crush every ounce of misery and fear and doubt that festered in her. “Why me? Why would anyone want to be my friend?” 

  “Oh, sweetheart...”

It was awful. Nobody deserved to be so untrustworthy of the world and its people.

  “Joan, baby,” Aragon took Joan’s smaller, bony hands in hers and held them tightly. “Do you wanna know what I see when I look at you?”

Joan tensed and Aragon could practically hear her brain screaming, “Here it comes! You shouldn’t have trusted her! She’s going to tell you how horrible you are!”

She silenced them herself.

  “I see a beautiful young lady.” Aragon told her. Joan’s eyes widened. “You’re so wonderful and sweet and amazing, Joan. You are a blessing. And anyone who gets to be friends with you should be honored to be friends with such an angel.”

Joan blushed and looked away shyly, but she wasn’t able to smother the giddy smile twitching on her lips. She craved compliments and affection, Aragon knew. She was just too modest to admit to anything said highly about her and too anxious to ask for a gentle touch.

  “You’re just saying that...” Joan mumbled.

  “Don’t be daft, Joan,” Aragon said, nudging her. “It’s all true.”

  “Y-you really think I’m an angel?” Joan asked softly.

Aragon smiled and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, which nearly sent her dissolving into tears all over again.

  “Of course.”

Joan stared at her in shock before folding into her arms. Aragon held her protectively, stroking her long blonde hair.

  “If you’d like,” She said, “I can go talk to Anne and Cathy. Make sure they aren’t trying anything. How does that sound?”

Joan nodded. “I-I like that plan...”

It was settled. Once Joan and Aragon eventually eased apart, Aragon went to go find Anne and Cathy after making Joan was completely okay to be left on her own. When she found the pair, she herded them into their dressing room and promptly began to grill them on their charade.

  “We aren’t trying to trick her!” Anne cried. 

  “Then why are you just now asking to be her friend?” Aragon asked calmly. “Why are you now deciding to be nice to her?”

  “I—” Anne’s shoulder’s slumped and she sat back in her chair heavily. “I don’t know, okay? I just— What happened yesterday was awful.”

  “Yes, it was,” Aragon said. She glanced momentarily at Cathy and remembered how she had gotten some blood on her.

  “We thought that this would be good for her.” Cathy tried. “To get her to be with people and join in on a few things...”

  “Make her apart of things?” Aragon guessed.

  “Yeah!” Cathy nodded, but deflated when she saw Aragon roll her eyes.

  “We aren’t that stupid, Catherine.” Aragon said. “And neither is Joan. She knows who you’re friends with.”

  “Do you think I WANT to be cousins with Kitty after what she did yesterday?” Anne said. “Or friends with Jane? And, if it makes anything any better, I’ve downgraded Maggie to a mutual costar.”

Aragon sighed and rubbed her forehead. “I just don’t want Joan to get hurt again.”

  “We’re not going to hurt her, Catalina.” Cathy said. 

Aragon examined the two of them for a moment and then took a deep breath and folded her hands together in her lap.

  “Look me in the eye,” She said, “and tell me that again. Tell me that you will not hurt Joan and that you genuinely want to be her friend.”

Anne looked into Aragon’s dark eyes and said, “We’re not going to hurt Joan.”

Aragon stared back at her for a long time, then snorted a light laugh and leaned back.

  “Alright,” She said. “I have a pretty good bullshit detector. I believe you. For now. Don’t make me regret that.”

Anne and Cathy both smiled in relief.

  “Thank you, Catalina.”

  “Yes, thank you.”

Aragon nodded. “I’ll go get Joan.” 

She retrieved the girl and, after explaining to her that Anne and Cathy weren’t going to hurt her, left her alone with them to finally go talk to the prop master.

  “Hey,” Anne said, smiling gently at the girl now sitting across from her.

  “Hi,” Joan whispered. She doesn’t have her head raised, but she kept glancing up at Anne and Cathy.

Anne thought for a moment. She wasn’t quite sure what to talk about with Joan. She didn’t want to bring up the conversation with Aragon because the extra layer of “we’re not gonna hurt you” may seem a bit suspicious. Luckily, however, her girlfriend quickly jumped in to fill the silence before it got too awkward.

  “When did you learn to play the piano?” Cathy asked.

Joan laced a finger around the chain of her cross necklace and tugged on it. “Umm— the house w-we moved into had one. I-it’s kinda old, but...” She shrugged a little. “I like it.”

  “Well, you’re very good,” Cathy said. “Your playing is beautiful.”

Joan blushed. “Thank you.” She mumbled.

She tugged harder on the chain and Anne noticed that it was starting cut into her skin.

  “Joan—” She stood up and walked over to her purse, fishing out a squishy green parrot that she would often use as a stress ball. She sat back down and offered it to Joan. “You’re hurting your fingers, sweetheart. Play with this.” 

Joan stared at it, then glanced up at Anne’s encouraging eyes and Cathy’s smiling face. Slowly, so slowly, she untangled her finger from where it was coiled her necklace and tentatively took the parrot. She squeezed it in her hands a few times, a tiny smile forming on her pale lips.

  “Do you like it?” Anne asked.

Joan nodded shyly.

  “Why don’t you keep it then?”

Joan’s head whipped up comically fast and her bug-eyed expression would have been even funnier if it weren’t for what the reaction implied.

  “Oh, M-Miss Anne, I-I can’t—” Joan stammered, and yet she was still glancing down at the parrot as if it were the most valuable thing in the world.

  “I insist, Joan.” Anne said. “You need it a lot more than I do. And I don’t use it that often, anyone. The poor little guy is probably so lonely in my purse.”

  “Surrounded by gum wrappers,” Cathy added with a titter.

  “Hsst.” Anne elbowed her playfully. She looked forward when she heard Joan shuffling in her seat and saw the girl taking some money out of her back pocket.

  “I-it’s not much— I was gonna use it to ride the bus home, b-but—”

Oh Joan. Anne thought sadly. Oh you poor, sweet child. You WOULD give up the money that’ll get you home safely for a squishy toy parrot I stole from the lost-and-found in college.

  “No no, put that away.” Anne said hurriedly and Joan stopped, tilting her head at her like SHE was the crazy one. 

  “Think of it as a gift.” Anne said. “Have you ever gotten a gift before?”

Joan looked away and Anne frowned, knowing the answer.

  “You don’t have to pay me or give me anything, I promise.” Anne assured her.

Joan nodded and put her money away. “Thank you,” She whispered before looking down at the parrot with a look on her face that said she was trying to remember the last time she had been given something. “Thank you.”

  “You deserve it, Joan.” Anne said and Cathy nodded in agreement at her side.

  “I like birds,” Joan said softly. She turned the parrot over in her hands, examining every inch of it. Despite it being old and a little patchy in some areas, she seemed to think it was the most amazing thing in the entire world.

  “Do you?” Cathy inquired. “What’s your favorite?”

  “Snowy owls.” Joan said, smiling a little more. “Or barn owls. I just like owls. But ducks are cute, too.”

  “They are.” Cathy agreed.

  “Do you have any pets?” Anne asked.

Joan shook her head with an adorably grumpy expression. “No,” She said. “Mama says animals are filthy, but I really like them! I wish I could get a cat or just a fish...” Her shoulders slumped and she gazed at the parrot longingly, like she was hoping it would magically come to life and be her new pet.

  “Maybe you will one day!” Cathy said. “You never know.”

Joan nodded. “Maybe.”

Anne and Cathy talked with Joan for twenty more minutes, slowly but surely easing her out of her shell, before she said she had to go before she missed her bus home. She waved to them goodbye, offering a rare, nearly-full smile before disappearing out the dressing room door.

—

  “Mama!” Joan called. “I’m home!”

She hung her bag up neatly on one of the hooks in the front room and darted into the kitchen, not even glancing at the crucifix. Her mind was too focused on getting out ingredients from the cabinets.

Anne might have said she didn’t want payment, but she had to give her something. Cathy and Aragon, too. She couldn’t just get so much kindness for free.

  “What kind of cookies do you think they would like?” She asked her new parrot, which she placed on the kitchen island. “Snickerdoodles or oatmeal?”

She didn’t get a reply, but she pretended in her head that it responded to her.

  “Snickerdoodles!” She nodded. “You’re right! Everyone likes those!”

She excitedly took out the cinnamon and sugar, grinning in a way that she hadn’t done in forever. But who could blame her? She had friends!

[angelrunners]

PLEASE READ

Ok i have no idea how to write beware posts because i haven't had to write one in years. But do not go harassing anyone or going to pm them. Block them and move on. Speed the word but do not interact with them.

If you share this, do not tag it. I want people to see this shared around without using tags. Dont tag bol or use the hashtags. Im serious. This is a very important topic i need people to know.

Alright lets get this shit show started.

Bol The Eye is a russian artist who is primarily on twitter. And she used to do we happy few art then switched to primarily cookie run artwork. I know friends who commissioned her that said she was nice to work with. Granted didn't follow references well. She also is on furafinity under bol the eye. Selling adoptables aimed at cookie run fans as well as furries.

So bol has a a patreon that she advertises on twitter. Which is fine. But she posts nsfw there. You might be confused at the issue here.

Bol drew a nsfw humanized version of the character space doughnut from the game cookie run ovenbreak. I will not post any of the artwork. But she posts "censored previews" on her nsfw twitter.

Both of her twitters below. And no i will not post the art. But space doughnut looks like shes been drawn like a 12 year old. She looks like shes been drawn young.

Now if you don't know space doughnut. Let me tell you about her.

It was October or November she got an event. It was a sticker coloring book. And youd do tasks to unlock stickers. Then youd make little art pieces to give to her. She gave you rewards based on her reaction. Which is a very child thing to do.

Her relationship chart is also a huge factor in on this. Because space doughnut admires a literal child. Which is implied to be a best friend.

Bol tried to justify the fact she aged up space doughnut to draw porn. She claimed it was "headcanon age" and that "its an alien". Not to mention my friend pmd her on patreon and was essentially threatened over this. Bol made posts about my friend on twitter. I got screenshots before bol thankfully listened to my friend and deleted them.

And people are defending bol mind you. Its not ok. And bol, the reason you are being called out is because headcanons don't mean jack shit when almost everyone can agree its a literal child. And your poll shows there's other pedos who are trying to make it seem like its nothing. Mind you, we all do research before we actually make posts like this. I was keeping this anonymous until you decided to threaten one of my best friends on patreon. I wont post any of the patreon messages due to my friend wanting his privacy. But bol essentially threatened and harassed him over a simple question. It should have stayed in pms but bol blew it the fuck up. How is that ok? Especially for a grown ass adult woman.

I found the space doughnut art preview on her nsfw twitter wayyyy before my friend pmd on patreon. Hell. Bol has an unlocked nsfw twitter and doesn't age check anyone who looks at it. I wont post the comments uncensored but there are people who are saying the photo is hot and all that pedo shit.

And bol said herself that she left tumblr. Can't wait for her to come back on and find my posts. Because this shit has already gone through the cookie run community, furries and we happy few. Granted not everyone, hence this post.

Please be safe and do share this info around. Shes a pedo and this shit isn't welcome anywhere.

Tl;dr- bol the eye ages up minors in cookie run to draw porn of them. She harasses anyone who calls her out. Sent threats to a friend who pmd her.

Be safe out there.

Ill add more later but im fucking drained and i have one hell of a migraine from pulling an all nighter.

And bol, if you find my post here. Leave my friend the fuck alone. You dug yourself into this hole by threatening him instead of politely explaining. I've seen everything on both sides and im disgusted. And now you sure as hell ain't gonna be what you call "the face of cookie run". You are a pedophile who tries to justify your bullshit.

Again. Do not go after bol or her followers. Spread the word around and block her. Thanks for reading.

And i cannot stress enough. My blogs are a safe space. None of those trashy ass fucks allowed.

[trethepoet]

Contrary to unpopularity Kanye West is still my favorite rapper. No one asked me, but I am writing the story sooo I’m just giving you a little intro before I get into it…

Now...anyone that knows me well (about 18 people) knows that my favorite quote is from a rapper that is NOT Kanye West. “You can do it put your back into it” is my absolute favorite lyric/quote/mantra what have you. YeahEYeaheeee (is that how you spell that?). Anyway I repeat that Ice cube quote literally everyday. I have another favorite quote. I don’t know how many favorites you can actually have but Spellman University’s (an HBCU not as great as NCCU, but I’m biased) motto- “Find a way or make a way”- have been so inspirational to me daily.

Light the sage and tell Alexa to que Jazmine Sullivan - any song because they’re all my mood right now- and listen to this shit...

Have you ever? Hypothetically of course...

Have you ever been served a civil suit for temporary and full custody of your infant breastfeeding daughter by your fiancé with whom you share a residence?

Have you ever been told repeatedly that “nobody likes you”, “you’re mean”, “you’re unkind”, “you don’t answer the phone pleasant enough”, “you’re a horrible mother because you allowed your four-year-old child to call another man (that’s living under the same roof) dad?

Have you ever been told “I wish you would die” as you hold your beautiful one-month old baby daughter by the man with whom you thought you grow old?

Have you ever been accused of “trapping” someone with a baby and only wanting their money even though you went through the entire IVF process to create a child together by the person who paid for the treatment?

Have you ever been sitting in a room and overheard your boyfriend at the time tell his best friend that you were harassing him about a baby? ...He can’t be talking about the same baby that he just paid $12,000 of his own money to have his ish placed in a Petri dish with my eggs because his count was drastically low.

Have you ever been cheated on so many times that you can’t even gather the tears to cry?

Have you ever been told that you should expect cheating from a man that pays all the bills?

Have you ever been told you should allow disrespect from a man because he’s not a “regular nigga”…he’s wealthy?

Have you ever come home from grabbing a milkshake to find your friend disheveled and flustered, rushing to her car barefoot saying she has to get out of your house?

Have you ever left your drunken friend in your daughter’s bed to keep her safe only to have her accuse your boyfriend of pulling off her panties and giving her a vagina a kiss without her consent?

Has one of your closest friends ever accused your boyfriend of sexual assault/ pretty much rape?

Have you ever had proof that someone was cheating on you and you show that person their own dick pics and they say they didn’t do it?

Have you ever read text messages to another woman from your fiancé and the other woman mentions your name, your daughters name annnnnd knows that your pregnant?

Have you ever heard a rumor that someone from your fiancé’s church was having sex with your fiancé while you were pregnant and find out that it was true?

Have you ever uprooted your small child’s comfortable life to move to a state that you don’t wish to live for a man who picks apart everything you do?

Have you ever been told not to work and then work part time during a global pandemic while you’re pregnant and homeschooling two kids in two different grades and then told months later that you “only came down here and got pregnant for the money”?

Have you ever had your boyfriend curse you out in front of your friends?

Has your boyfriend ever cursed out one of your friends?

Have you ever had lies told on you by your own fiancé in order for him to make himself look good to others who don’t ever care about him?

Have you ever decided to leave and start over with virtually nothing and have a millionaire who is also your child’s father accuse you of stealing lamps al while calling you several “broke bitches”, a monster thot and telling you he doesn’t care if you sleep on the floor but then wants to be friends?

Have you ever had to take your infant daughter and six-year-old to the damn Doubletree hotels and suites to live for 13 nights because the verbal and emotional torture was turning into minor shoving and more intense arguments over nothingness?

Have you ever been accused of not allowing a person to let them see their child when you sleep under the same roof?

Have you ever been accused of using your child as a pawn by someone who was using your child as a pawn?

Have you ever been sent photos of about 20 onesies in a closet telling you that you’ve taken all of the baby shower gifts when you also have the baby?

Have you ever feared for your child’s safety?

Has anyone ever tried so badly to make everyone the introduced you too hate your guts?

Have you ever lost 20lbs of weight in three weeks due to stress?

Have you ever had to move three times with an infant child and a six-year-old in a two-month span of time?

Have you ever been so tired you forget to eat?

Have you ever just been so freaking tired?

Have you ever given up everything and trusted someone and then left with virtually nothing but your clothes and your daughters clothes and toys and still get accused of taking a fucking $79.99 dollar throw rug from Homegoods?

Have you ever felt inadequate?

Has someone ever made you feel like you don’t deserve love?

Has someone ever made you feel like a nutcase for feeling hurt?

Has anyone ever tried to tell everyone that you’re crazy in order to discredit everything you say?

Has someone ever offered to buy you a purse when a random girl found your private Instagram account to tell you the person you love was sucking her pussy in Miami?

Has anyone offered to buy you a bag in order to shut you up about a realtor with very split ends?

Has anyone ever made up lies and woke you up out of your sleep to tell them to you?

Have you ever felt so low you can’t do anything but cry your grown ass to sleep at night?

Has it ever taken you two years to realize it’s not you?

Have you ever been imperfect?

Have you ever just needed to breath and think? …You can do it, put your back into it (lol corny AF, but seriously).

Have you ever had to spend nearly 40K cash (every penny you fucking had) in the span of two months to make sure you and your daughters have a roof over your head and some forks and furniture?

Have you ever been thankful that you were able to do so?

Have you ever had to accept every helping hand extended to you?

Have you ever been postpartum and delirious?

Have you ever wanted to scream fuuuuuckkkkk?

Have you ever just wanted to call/hug your mom or dad and can’t?

Have you ever cried Pink Himalayan Sea Salt tears to one of your best friends over French toast?

Have you ever felt like why is this happening to me?

Hopefully you haven’t…but if you had I would hug you. I would scream the ICE Cube quote obnoxiously over an imaginary mic. I would encourage you to have the strength to leave. I would tell you to seek therapy. I would tell you that you aren’t crazy. I would drive all the way from Philly to help you build the crib for your daughter, I would babysit your oldest daughter while you pulled extra shifts, I would watch your oldest daughter for an entire weekend so she just walked into her new home, I would keep your daughter for two weeks while she was in virtual school so she didn’t have to see her mom in such a low spot, I would buy you groceries, I would come and wipe down your hotel bathroom and all the other surfaces b/c duh coronavirus, I would tell you that just because you aren’t getting physically hit doesn’t mean you aren’t experiencing abuse, I would have a bonfire and give you a candle and some flowers and some very tight hugs, I would make you three fire ass playlists, I would encourage you and tell you that you are valuable and loved. I would check on you weekly, I would go to brunch with you, I would pay your phone bill, I would let you and your daughters spend the week at my house and make you watch that horrible meek mill movie on volume 100, I would book you a hotel room and invite all of your closest friends to have a spa day, I would take a half day off to let the movers into your storage unit, I would let you ship furniture to my house, I would make you share your location with me so I knew you were safe, I would help you literally unpack your entire house, I would help you find an attorney, I would give you free legal advice, I would order you wallpaper, I would just listen, I would help you wash all of your new dishes and sheets, I would walk through ikea with you for hours, I would love you…I would do anything I could, I would be the friend all of my friends were to me.

How could I even question my self worth, my energy, my spirit, my personality when I am obviously getting back all of this positive energy and love. Who were you to think that you couldn’t find a way or make a way?

[autismgavemychildvaccines]

Why I’m Ashamed to Be Christian

So, now that I am literally sick of the Measles nonsense (no, fucking literally, working 12+ hour shifts on an incident management team has got me sick and tired enough to call in tomorrow), I’ve decided to do a non PH rant, though it’ll for sure rear it’s fucking head somewhere in here. Instead, let’s tackle something real fun. Religion! Time to buckle up.  In my half fucking awake daze that I was just nudged out of, something really wild hit me. My faith, my belief in a very specific God with a specific book (though I admit that other religions, so long as their origin is not a company or a tool to oppress others on the outset, are valid/likely just as true) makes no God damned sense.  (For reference, here I will claim my most closely related sect as my own; American Evangelism [though if one were to ask in person I’d say “non-denominational”, but historically, the two are close] and will be speaking as a part of a community I used to closely belong to but now have drifted away from on some granola-crunching dumbassery that is “I am a church of one” bullshit. I’ve wanted to be other things, but ever since I left the Freemasons, fuck all else has had much appeal.) So, first things first, Garden of Eden, right? Pretty fucking cool place, some might have even called it a perfect garden, a perfect place for humans and God to interact? But here’s my hang up with it. The trees of Life and Knowledge, and the rule that Adam and Eve could eat of any fruit except those grown upon that pair. Why even fucking have them?

 When I asked that as a kid in a faith based area, they said because it was a test.

 Of what?

 “Well, of our loyalty to God and our Faith, of course”. 

Except again, what the fuck? Like, I get the idea of free-will, in fact I am a huge believer in individual free will (I’ll get to that in a sec), but here’s the stickler here. As any other creative type will tell you, we want our work to take on a life of its own. Like say I wanted to program a remarkably bright AI, and it worked, and all I wanted was for it to recognize me as its creator and to discover and enjoy what home I could make for it. You know what I wouldn’t do? I wouldn’t give an AI, even with some simulated free will, the ability to break certain rules. For example, I wouldn’t allow it unrestricted access to the internet or my personal accounts. I wouldn’t even give it the concept that such things existed, let alone put it right fucking there to be used. That would be a flaw, an imperfection in an otherwise perfect place. And yeah, there’s something to be said for giving free will with not-free consequences, sure. But two things: 1) Don’t be pissed when the thing happens that you allowed to exist in the first place and thus forced it to be a mathematical certainty now that you’re dealing with perhaps the most curious species to ever exist.  2) Don’t go blaming them for a lack of faith. If anything, it’s a self-fulfilling prophecy, an act that abusers often use to get what they really want and have a thin veneer of an excuse to make happen. Now doesn’t that sound a lot like a good number of the followers of this faith, as opposed to an almighty, omnipotent, powerful being? Hmm, something to consider there, maybe.  Speaking of followers, let’s actually also take a look at some of the prophets that we as American Christians often hold so dear. Now me? I’m a Luke guy, I like Luke. Peaceful, loving gospel for the most part, and I dig it. Peace and love, baby, that’s all I want coming from stories regarding a higher power that we had to hang up like a fucking tapestry to make sure we got all that love. But do you know who I fucking hate, and who I blame the most for how the American chruch is? Paul/Saul of Tarsus. Thiiiiiiiiiiis prick. This fucking Deus Vult Vulture. Actually in many ways, he really is the archetype to the Modern Evangelical fucking anything. Actively participated in the harassing, attempted extinguishing and successful terrorizing of a marginalized group. Then after being hit back for it, literally “seeing the light” and trying to be the fucking vanguard of said group only to lead it down a path where he’s suddenly the appointed expert of anything to do with the issue. And while he does this, he helps create the most violent and bigoted thoughts in the whole of the religion, and is praised for his visions as he says they are truly from God, and can thus act oh so righteously. This right here is a fucking problem, y’all. Like, I know the whole forgiveness idea allows for some mental gymnastics on how this could even happen, but even then to make a genocidal ass-face your de-facto leader aside from Christ himself for the next 2000 years is a fucking flip that even at the 1988 Olympics, if Christians were America, Russia would give them a straight 10/10.    And yet, for many of us, that’s exactly what we’ve done. Hell, we’ve even fallen into the forced victim narrative of the synopsis of this asshole:  “Oh well, you see, I was a heathen and thus I couldn’t help myself, but then like, the God of the people I was killing talked to me and like, now I have to do this (Take on the “burden” of leading the church) as penance for what I couldn’t help myself over.” We’ve fallen for it so much, that it may as well be hard wired into our nervous system to believe anything resembling it, just as we assume if something is flat, green and on a tree, it’s a leaf.  Maybe it’s why we as a religion (and let’s face it, other Abrahamic religions as well) are so damn good at beating down the marginalized while screaming that we are the saints, we’re the sacrificiers trying to make things better. Like, let’s have some modern day fun with this bullshit, man; let’s see how we treated and in many places continue to treat women.  Of the few churches I have been to, 100% of them had one dual-sided message that made me real fuckin’ uncomfortable, fam:  Part 1) That women cannot be trusted onto themselves and thus 2) Men must take control of them and society to not allow for some unspecified “Ridiculous bullshit”.  (as a fair heads up; I do fully recognize non-binary, trans individuals, etc, but for the sake of brevity I’ll be mostly referring to M/F in the traditional sort of way, because opening up Christianity’s treatment of anything regarding gender fluidity is a Ph.D. thesis for another day)  Now, I don’t know about y’all, but I know damn well that out of all the dudes I know, and all the lasses I know, they’re a pretty mixed fuckin’ bunch. It’s almost like their gender assigned at birth doesn’t really affect how reasonable they could be as people nor how much responsibility they should have. Obviously some cultural practices skew this quite a bit in so far that women are expected to take more responsibility, younger, and for less praise, but if anything that should help destroy, not reinforce that message.  And yet, the idea persists so much in Christian circles. And not just by the men themselves, but the women, also. For the longest time of my church going days, the pastor was a woman. She wholly believed it was just and right that her husband be in charge of everything, that women should be loyal to their men in all aspects. Then again, she also (despite recruiting members primarily from college) did not believe in evolution at all, so there’s that in terms of an intellectual hurdle. But regardless, this inherent submissive attitude within the faith (and even the half-hearted and self-congratulatory “Yeah but we REALLY are the ones making the decisions because we can withhold sex if we want” is essentially that too just a smidgen more empowering), when combined with the idea that men should be wholly in-control (which is a breeding ground for toxic masculinity if there ever was) is shameful. It’s what has allowed so much bullshit in the past, including these recent abortion laws. Now, I’m going to cover abortion in another post (I might get to it tomorrow; It’s been on the burner for weeks), but it’s super pertinent here.  We, as a religion, have allowed ourselves to tell women (just as we tell/told minorities before) that they cannot be trusted with their own bodies, that they cannot be trusted when they speak, and most certainly cannot be trusted to truly hold dominion over anything. And that has allowed the most insidious, hateful, bigoted, disgusting things to happen in the name of God. A God that while I am writing this post I still believe in, but my doubts about how genuine the message has ever been is hitting home. One whose words about peace have been ignored when they could be interpreted or pointed to to support war, where the rich can profit off the poor, or to support sexism, because we as men historically have wanted to control “everything of ours”, or to take the very free will we claim to hold so dear from those who need the ability to make their own decisions the most. Words that have been used to hold down good people from making lives better. Words that in the hands of those who wanted, could be profaned and desecrated and thus allow for profane and disturbing events, both on the grand stage of the world and behind the closed doors of any house in some small town. Words which are held up with a wink and a nod so that followers feel included when they are scammed by some fucking fried chicken joint who wants to make more money to fight against equality, or to pay for another $9 million jet for some asshole who croons about how the poor should be grateful they do not have the temptations of the rich.  To other followers, do you not lament that we are this way? That we have been this way for so long? Because I fucking do.  And to those who have been discriminated or marginalized or whatever else against because of your gender or skin colour or situation or victimization or  past deeds of any sort; I’m sorry. Genuinely, truly sorry you have suffered as you have. Sorry for what people have done thinking it was somehow morally or spiritually justified, sorry that they thought they were saving you. And I can assure you that I will never try to lead you as those before me have tried to. Though if it’s all the same, I’d like to get to hear you, and walk beside you. 

[keith-against-sheith]

“antis harass shippers all the time”

ok let’s just say that’s true and that you’re not conflating our general vocal criticism with harassment.

the problem is when any antis step out of line, we call it out. we spread posts about not sending death threats and shit. we ask you guys to tell us who harasses you but never hear back from you.

but when shit comes from your side, all we get is radio silence from you guys. you think shippers are justified in attacking our side because you already see us as default bullies just for being angry about pedophilia apologism. when our side gets harassed or sent triggering content you’re quick to say “well you started it, this wouldn’t happen if you all weren’t toxic” lol just stop lying and admit you don’t actually give a shit about harassment or the minors who are harassed on this side, you only care about it when you can use it as a derailing argument to shut any conversation down.

remember when a shaladin pretended to be an anti on twitter to get buddy buddy with antis? (with antis who were minors)? but when they got caught and were exposed with an ip address—which is public information and was censored anyway—the only issue you guys had was Oh no the evil antis doxxed an innocent shipper!!! yeah fuck off

and you especially don’t acknowledge the pedophiles that exist and thrive in your shipping circles—remember when that one guy lied about his age to date a minor AND called a pedophile defense firm to check if child erotica was legal? lol no backlash form the shaladin community, only support and chatter about how the ship war was finally over.

and now when an adult woman with a huge following and influence attacks a minor because she thinks he’s lying (he wasn’t) and calls him a motherfucker for being uncomfortable with her 22 year old ass joking about pedophilic ships and liking homophobic/sexual comments towards a teen you guys rush to defend and coddle her. a minor was harassed and bullied into deleting by a shit ton of people from your community all because he had an issue with bex, and she couldn’t act like a fucking adult.

this shit is consistent with you guys. whenever your side gets into shit you twist it into something you can blame on us just so you can continue shipping teenagers with a grown adult. i would ask you guys to think critically about the kind of behavior your shipping rhetoric enables, but from what we’ve seen that’s impossible. so congrats on being the bronies of the fandom i guess. 

[animarosa]

I wanna talk a moment about something I’ve heard since I was a teen that has always bothered me A LOT. You don’t have to give people ‘a chance’, ok? Talking specifically about dating. I’m sure I’m not the only one that in 10+ years has heard this line:

“Aww but he likes you/seems nice, give him a chance!”

Just. No. If your gut tells you NO? Advice: LISTEN TO YOUR GUT. 10/10 times my gut has been right, and the one time I didn’t listen to my gut I ended up feeling emotionally betrayed. Look, I’m a grown-ass woman, about to finish a doctorate’s degree, about to turn 27 in 2 weeks, and I’ve never dated and I’m a virgin. Yes, I have had crushes that went nowhere, disappointments in people I thought actually liked me back, had guys interested in me that I turned down (BECAUSE I LISTENED TO MY GUT AND OMG MY GUT WAS RIGHT THEY WERE ACTUALLY AWFUL PEOPLE AND/OR WANTED TO CHANGE AND ONE WANTED TO DATE ME WHILE I WAS STILL A MINOR OH BOYYYYYY) And I’m neither proud OR ashamed of that. It’s just something I am, it’s nothing special, I’m a human and my lack of sex or dates doesn’t make me any less. It took me years of lying to myself that I was ok with being alone but secretly yearning for someone to be in a romantic relationship with me. It was only recently, after trying out online dating (and not being AT ALL comfortable with it) that I realized I want to remain alone, as I mentioned in another post. I want to remain alone and continue putting my career first, second and third. I’m truly someone who has no interest in dating anyone unless I really connect with them first and my gut is not warning me to STAY AWAY. If it happens, then it happens, but it’s not something I’m actively seeking or that I need. I’m happy with the friends that I have, I’m happy with my hobbies and work balance. I’m HAPPY as I am and I LOVE myself. 

But going back to the point, don’t listen to people, listen to yourself. If someone makes you uneasy? Don’t go out with them, your instinct is probably right. Don’t feel comfortable with the thought of online dating or dating period? Don’t. That gut feeling will save you trouble. Or you just simply DON’T want to go out with someone that is interested in you? DON’T. You should be comfortable, if such things make you uncomfortable or you’re just simply not interested, DON’T force yourself. DON’T FORCE YOURSELF INTO ANYTHING YOU DON’T WANT TO/ARE NOT ON BOARD 100%.

Some people might not like a person who has never been in a relationship giving out this advice but to that I say: 1) you don’t need to be in a relationship to LEARN, you can observe others experiences/learn from others, and from things that almost were but never happened as was my case; 2) fuck anyone who thinks that people who have never been in relationships can’t offer advice. 

To end this rant, these are the things that would have happened if I had not listened to my gut:

- My first relationship would have been with a guy in COLLEGE while I was in HIGH SCHOOL (I was 16)

- My second relationship would have been with a guy that wanted to “show me the way of Jesus” and wanted me to join the church he went to

- My third relationship would have been with a guy that was so nice at first but when we started college and I was very busy to even go out, he got controlling in his texts demanding to know where I was, why I wasn’t answering his calls (WHILE I WAS IN CLASS), and harassed me on facebook, not understanding why I didn’t want to talk with him anymore

- And the last idiot I rejected I just wasn’t interested/wasn’t impressed with how he instantly asked me out like hold the fuck up you don’t even know my last name lol

tldr: LISTEN TO YOUR GUT WHEN YOU HAVE A BAD FEELING ABOUT SOMEONE. DON’T FEEL PRESSURED INTO DATING BY OTHER PEOPLE. YOU DON’T HAVE TO GIVE ANYONE A CHANCE. 

[skold]

Is it even legal to dox a minor, wtf?????

i have no idea lmao. it wasn’t like private information so much as they gathered up all my social media links and basically made a call out post (before that’s what they were called). one girl was a huge bmth blog and the other was like mildly tumblr famous at the time and had over 10k so she basically sent her entire following to go harass me lmao. i hope she got some help bc she was 22 at the time and it takes some serious hate to wanna harass a 15 year old. when i see teenagers do stupid shit i just remind myself they’re fucking teenagers and they’ll learn better. but if you’re a grown ass woman sending ur followers to terrorize a minor u have some fuckin problems.