#and sometimes people don’t die even when they deserve to
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
A monster witch who murderer her poor husband: This story makes me sick to my stomach
⚠️Trigger warning: violence, murder, torture, strong language⚠️
I was looking up murder stories because I was bored and I found this. When I read it, I actually cried. It made so mad and so sad. The psychological and physical torture this man had to go through is just horrific and this woman got a pleasure out of it. This worthless fucking whore beat and tortured her poor husband and starved him. If someone did that to brother/cousins/whatever, I’m LITERALLY ripping their teeth out.
Edit: she was given a 32 year minimum sentence in 2010 when she was 28 and IIRC she could possibly be eligible for parole when she’s 60 (though hopefully she never leaves prison)
#Andrew Gardner#crime#tw violence#tw torture#tw murder#Clare Nicholls#female murderer#male victims#I just want to bring light to this and have people to speak out about this#this is just fucking horrible#people like this Clare Nicholls bitch#deserve all the hell they can get#sometimes people die when they don’t deserve to#and sometimes people don’t die even when they deserve to#This is to spread awareness about a sadistic woman who took advantage of a meek mentally disabled man#andrew was a beautiful kind hearted angel who didn’t deserve this#rip Andrew Gardner 🙏#this story may be old but please spread the word 🙏
35 notes
·
View notes
Text
#i do not want to work tomorrow i want to lay in bed and be sad#i’m really realizing how miserable of a person i am i am always fucking Sad and when i do feel happy i cry when it’s over#and i can’t even resemble a human being without medication and i know that’s fine but i’m still always sad. it doesn’t go away#i feel like nobody deserves to have me weighing them down like i’ve cried in front of people three times this week and i know it’s fine#but i feel so fucking guilty about it and i feel guilty about everything i feel like i’m doing nothing right and i’m not dealing with thing#right and i’m not living right and i feel like it must be so fucking difficult to love me and i don’t know how people do it#i don’t even feel capable of asking for. any sort of love ever#i feel like i don’t deserve like anything. i feel like nobody actually wants to do things for me lol#every single dsy i’m like wow i want to be held and every single dsy i feel bad even asking for a hug from someone#when i need reassurance i’m afraid to ask because what if i’m just being annoying and overbearing and too much Bad#i never feel like too much good. only bad.#i know a lot of these shitty thoughts are just because i’ve been unmedicated (meds will be ready tomorrow lol) but it just like#it sucks to know medication just kinda hides these thoughts better and that deep down i feel like this because i don’t want to#i feel like everyone in my life doesn’t deserve someone who doubts everything all the time#i think my mother deserved a stronger daughter and i think my friends deserve someone that’s not always breaking and i just don’t feel Good#i don’t know why anyone keeps me around#sometimes i feel selfish for sticking around and that sounds so awful and i’m not gonna act on it but i just feel like a waste of a person#the last week has been so good and now i’m just a fucking mess and i feel so fucking guilty about that :)#i feel like no matter what i always just default to miserable#i don’t feel like i’m doing enough at all#i’m struggling in school i don’t work enough i can barely take care of myself#like i wouldn’t even properly take care of myself if taylor wasn’t helping me i feel so guilty about that all the time#i feel so guilty for even thinking any of this right now and i’m trying to remind myself that i’m unmedicated and i’ve had a long day#and my best fucking friend just went back home and i’m allowed to be sad about that but i just. feel like i’m making excuses i guess#it’s not immoral to be sad but maybe when i’m wanting to die all the time i’m the problem. idk#anyway i’m gonna go to sleep and i’m gonna try to convince myself tomorrow will be better#sndnsksjkakejdkalwosjhdkwosjdjsk. i will be fine
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
worst comes to worst, have a backup plan friend who’s cool with you eating like their arm or something. like obviously absolutely last option just too keep you from keeling over until you can get your next meal, but it’s only like an arm and they consent
Posts that be like “If I were a monster that had to eat people, i would just eat horrible people~” are so absurd to me. How often do you see Known Criminals on the street? Billionaires out for a nightly stroll around town? Effectively fucking never. If I have to drag myself to the grocery store, you think it’s gonna be any easier for me to hunt Bezos and Co. every time my stomach growls? I can’t bother to plan meals more than a day in advance, how am i gonna perform whole ass detective work to confirm someone’s a serial killer before i eat them? Ya’ll got that much time on your hands? Planning 5 course meals every night of the week? Don’t make me laugh. Eat a pedestrian and tragically wrestle with guilt like the rest of us, idiot.
#consensual cannibalism#cannibalism#i’ve thought about this sort of thing extensively#consensual/righteous eating of people#the reason i’ve thought about this is because of jonathan sims#like if bro just found people who knew what they were getting into and allowed him to eat their trauma then everything would’ve been okay#and if everyone else wasn’t as convinced of his less than dog status#basira literally said that she’d ’put him down’ if he did anything#as if he was a fucking dog that bit a child#nah nah nah#i don’t fuck with that shit#idk if literally everyone in that office thought he was such a monster#he deserves to be able to eat#just because his diet is different then yours doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try to make it work#you literally eat meat#how can you have any moral standing when you eat meat and he eats nightmares#do you know how much damage the meat industry causes the ecosystem?#you raise animals to die (sometimes not even raising them)#then you feed them enough food that could feed a family#then you give them land that could be used for other food sources#then they drink water that could’ve been giving to a person#im not saying you should be a vegetarian im saying your a fuckin hypocrite#like i eat meat and i like eating meat and i would find some way to make this work#even if it’s just getting myself into supernatural situation so he can feed off me#at least i know i won’t be alone in my nightmares#at least i have someone watching over me#at least i know i helped a fucking friend#a fucking person#a fucking human being#sorry this was just me posting about how much i hated how people treated jon
149K notes
·
View notes
Text
5 years ago, I was in Rehab.
10 years ago, I was watching my Potential and Opportunities dissolve and evaporate in an ocean of cheap gin and expensive whiskey.
But 5 years ago, I was in Rehab.
One of the exercises they had us perform was to imagine ourselves happy, 5 years in the future.
Many of us in that room had forgotten how to imagine nice things happening to them. A few snorted (well, I snorted), finding the notion that we’d even still be around in 5 years grimly humorous.
For about half of us, it was the last stop on the way down.
But I indulged the therapist. I was there, after all, because I did not want to die. So, I imagined myself, 5 years hence.
Happy.
It came to me all at once; an artistic remix on Norman Rockwell’s Freedom From Want, reframed with myself placing food at the table.
Sunday Dinner At My Place, I answered, when it came my turn to share my fantasy. I was asked what food I imagined eating.
It’s not the meal itself, I said, it’s the implications framed around it. Sunday Dinner At My Place means that I have a Place. It means that I have Family that will actually speak to me and friends who actually want to see me. It means money enough not just to feed myself but others too. It means having the time to spare to take the time preparing the meal.
A lot of nodding heads all around me. A struck chord. Many people with no Place, in that place. Nowhere that would lament their leaving.
5 years hence, as I lay down to sleep in my Home, with my Wife and my Son, surrounded by my Art and my Flowers, I reflect.
It was a long road. It was hard. We lost people. So many people. There were long days and long nights and hospital stays. Angry arguments with ghosts. I changed, in ways I never hoped for, or expected. Good ways, finally, for once. Slowly, against the backdrop of a world in chaos, I found my mind.
Sometimes, My Wife wondered aloud, what she did to deserve me. After some stumbling with my feelings, I eventually settled on an answer.
I’m a Rescue.
She gave me a Home.
And, so, I gave her a Family.
It seemed fair
This Sunday, my folks, which whom I have not had a shouting match in years, will come over for dinner. We will cook and eat together. My Friend became My Wife, and she took a piece of me and with it she made Our Son. There will be many hugs, and no violence. Good Things Happened.
I don’t know who needs to hear this, but you don’t know what the future holds.
don’t give up yet, ok?
It could get good, even.
#troglodyte thoughts#tales from Real Life#cw addiction#cw alcohol#sometimes the light at the end of the tunnel is the headlamp of an approaching train#run#fight#hide#SURVIVE#do not go into the light#there are unpet dogs#and unhugged children#and unseen sunsets#and maybe even love#even for a wretch like me#the best part of your life might be old age#you don’t know
21K notes
·
View notes
Text
The whole plot of Crumbled! (at least the main plot since several characters aren’t. Involved in that. Funny side plots and characters baby!) is how organized crime affects people, inside of it and out. It’s how members of the mob don’t have anything else they can do in life aside from the life of crime, it’s how the general public are harmed by organized crime even if they aren’t being targeted personally, it’s how being a member of this lifestyle can destroy or build your relationships, it’s how no one is pure evil or pure good, it’s the complexity of people while also being about The Horrors.
No one here faces “traditional consequences” to their actions, aside from a few. Hershey doesn’t go to jail, Donna doesn’t die, etc etc. This is a story that doesn’t need those consequences. From day 1 you know these characters are doing horrible things, and at the same time these characters learn and fully comprehend they’re doing bad things. The most they get as “traditional retribution” is how some of their personal relationships are affected. Aside from that, these fuckers dont NEED what the masses would deem a traditional consequence because the entire fucking plot is them going through the horrors because of their actions! Being in the mafia and seeing and doing horrible things while having to just live with it is a pretty damn good “consequence” to me! Melphis doesn’t need to go to jail because “he needs to suffer the consequences of his actions” when every single damn day he suffers‼️
Even if Cheon’s family isn’t destroyed, even if the Oreona family doesn’t ostracize it’s members that are criminals, even if the extremes aren’t reached in these “consequences” there’s still a damn effect!!! But at the end of the day like I said these guys suffer the consequences of their actions constantly so they don’t need jail time or death or anything like that oh my god. And if you think that’s wrong and makes me romanticize, endorse or fucking glorify the mafia because Melphis doesn’t get locked up and only two members of the Oreo Gang die in the end then OHHHHHH GROW UP‼️ GROW UP‼️‼️
#like I said I’m feeling mean .#NOT like anyone has ever explicitly done this to me I haven’t been hit with the glorifying accusations#but walk with me. walk with me guys... sometimes the narrative is about bad people and they don’t need to get torn apart for their actions.#sometimes stories can have bad people and just because you aren’t told up right ‘This is bad!’ means the thing is being glorified#Melphis is not a perfect person he has done wrong. but his ass does not need to face time for his crime for the narrative to be complete#like I said Bro suffers every single day.#and he’s the most sympathetic in this group! But Everyone else follows a similar philosophy#Guo doesn’t need to die because he does wrong Phoenix doesn’t need to die no one here deserves death#The two that do die are even tragic.#You can argue one of them needs to die so everyone can go free and Cheon can get his full revenge but shit man.#She was raised to be a monster. She never had a chance to be a better person because she was raised to take over the mafia and only had that#Her mom feared what would happen if she tried to take her with her when she fled. So she had no other exposure to a normal life#And no one dared try to take her away from her father. They feared the consequences. they all feared what’d happen#and then it was too late. She never had the chance to be a regular person and she died a monster since she had nothing else to her name#that doesn’t excuse her actions obviously but damn. how sad!#and the other one that dies just fucks up Cheon. Because it’s salt in the wound over his whole revenge plot#It’s the final emphasis on how his drive to avenge his parents’ deaths led to more tragic than needed. how even in the end his perfect kill#-(in quotes) was tainted by the blood of someone no one wanted to kill. someone who was flawed and wrong yeah#but people love to see him and his brother as more sympathetic than Cherry. so rip.#shit is just fuck and I don’t need to make them go to jail not every narrative like that needs it#and like I said if you treat my ocs like them not dying brutal deaths or other ‘traditional consequence’ by god eat a lime.#Phew. anyways#demon’s ocs#crumbled!#Look into my twisted mind boy /J
0 notes
Text
✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ FIRST KISS — GOJO SATORU.
contents. fluff + mutual pining if you squint, it’s literally just you being satoru’s first kiss <3, he’s just a loser boy beneath all his facades !!
it’s summer the first time you kiss satoru. his lips taste like the lingering sweetness of kikufuku. the cicadas are calling, and the sun finds every crevice of your skin to hug.
it’s hot outside—but you don’t mind the heat so much when it’s the fan of satoru’s breath against your skin. you can feel his hands tremble as they finds your hips. hesitant, you note as he pauses a moment before finally letting them rest against you.
“you’re eager, sweetheart,” he hums—because satoru, even dazed from the taste of you, is still persistently himself. large hands are gently cradling the curves of your waist—he’s warm there too, where he holds you and pulls you closer to his chest. he grins when you press a kiss to his jaw, rubbing circles into your hip with his thumb.
“it doesn’t feel like you’re kissing me while held at gunpoint either, gojo,” you roll your eyes. your hand cups his face, thumb tracing over the swell of his cheek gently.
gojo—his lips, rosy and just a bit swollen, pout at the use of his surname. surely, now that you’ve stolen the innocence of his lips, you can spare him a bit more than that. surely, the intimacy of his given name doesn’t outweigh the intimacy of exchanging breath.
satoru—he imagines the way the name would sound from you, carefully whispered like a secret. everything you do is careful, he’s noticed, everything about you is thoughtful and soft.
more than anything, you’re careful in the way you touch him. you’re delicate in the way you let yourself explore his skin, like he’s fragile and easy to hurt. like all he’s ever known is pain. it’s ironic—someone like satoru should know very little about pain, should never feel the devastating blows at its hands when infinity leaves more than enough room for him to remain untouched.
but you’re funny like that; take him by surprise as you carve out the slant of his cheekbone with your thumb slowly enough that you might almost think your touch is enough to slice the skin.
it’s nice, he thinks distantly, being handled with care is nice. it’s not something this world affords so easily.
“this your first kiss?” he asks shamelessly, throwing you that lopsided grin of his.
am i your first? is what he means to ask. what he wants to ask. what he aches to ask.
is he your first? or are you only his? has anyone else tasted the strawberry of your chapstick? was it a different flavor before it was ever strawberry? satoru hopes he’s the only one to ever explore the flavors your lips might come in—maybe you’ll try cherry next. he’d like that.
“it’s certainly your first kiss,” you giggle, thumb moving down to trace his bottom lip, “i can feel you trembling, y’know.”
not many people catch gojo satoru embarrassed—you do, though. that enough should make you feel like god, perhaps. who else is powerful enough to feel the strongest quake? who else feels the quivers of his hands and the uncertain hesitance under his touch?
no one but you—and you’d like to keep it that way.
his face flushes a little, against his control. even gojo satoru is not above the rush of blood rising to his cheeks, even he cannot stop the hue of color that paints across his face. he’s human, after all—and he deserves to be treated as such: with the fragility of being human.
“no it’s not,” he scoffs, “i’ve kissed plenty.”
“yeah?” you chuckle, admiring the rosiness of his flesh, “name one person.”
“i don’t recall anyone’s name,” he shrugs, hands still making sure to keep you painfully close. if you pull away, satoru thinks he might die—thinks he might never recover from the aftershocks of such devastation. “no one was ever worthwhile enough to remember.”
he’s too much sometimes—but never less than enough. you snort, huffing out a small laugh that rings in his ears and makes him gulp.
perfect—you sound and look and feel and taste perfect. gojo satoru is the strongest, but is he deserving of the one thing this earth has that’s devoid of flaws? he’s not so sure. but he can try to be worthy, and perhaps that’s enough.
“well, then tell me, gojo,” you murmur, gently slipping the bandages from his forehead to fall to his neck. he’s only recently left the sunglasses behind—you like him better this way. you can see the outline of his features better, even if you do miss his eyes.
“hm?” he quirks a brow, breath almost hitching when his eyes meet yours—since when have you looked at him like that? since when have your pupils housed so much affection for him? have you always done so, and he’s never noticed?
it would be a crime to not have noticed before this, he thinks, a cruel and terrible reality of missing every soft and affectionate gaze.
“will i be long forgotten after this kiss? or has this one finally caught your attention?”
there is no prior kiss to compare yours to—but there never needs to be one after, either. this is the best kiss he’ll ever have, the only kiss he wants to have. no one will ever feel like you, he’s sure of it. no one will ever make him feel what you do, and even infinity is something that cannot protect him from the risks.
but satoru is not scared, not of you—and never with you.
so he grins, tapping his chin in thought as he hums, “give me another, and i’ll decide.”
you scoff in disbelief—amused, if anything, before shaking your head. he can’t help the chuckle that escapes him.
“you never change, gojo,” you say fondly, “do you know that?”
“say satoru,” he says quietly. it’s almost a plead—it sounds like a plead.
you smile. it’s an innocent little thing, untouched by the cruelties of life—or maybe it has, and you still find a reason to stay pure. maybe it’s the latter, he realizes, maybe you’re just resilient enough to remain unwavering in the way you love so unapologetically.
“come here, satoru,” you whisper, gently pulling his face closer as you hold his cheeks.
desperately, he needs to taste his name rolling off your tongue—so he comes closer, bridging the gap and kissing you again. and again—and he can’t find it in him to stop.
the same day satoru has his first kiss, you call him by his first name. it’s summer. the flowers smell sweet as the cicadas call, and you put the sun’s heat to shame.
he’ll always stay warm wrapped in you.
tbh this was supposed to be y’all fucking for the first time but then it just turned into this. alas, we prevail
#teepods.writings#drabbles.#gojo x reader#gojo fluff#gojo x you#jjk x reader#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jjk fluff#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen fluff
3K notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi Neil.
I know you are flooded with asks and this somehow became extremely long. Too long. “Why am I suddenly telling this poor man my life story?” too long. “I think I’d rather he work on the GO3 script than read this wild beast” too long. “He’s going to think you’re criminally dangerously insane” too long. If you never get to it, I’m good with never seeing a response from you. Maybe it’s better that way? Maybe an anon would have been nice here. But, it’s 2024, so I say “we ball.” It’s a privilege to be able to send this to you at all. You get a lot to this effect and I hope they give you good feels, so maybe what’s the harm, yeah? Because this is not an ask. This is a thank you letter.
First, thanks for reblogging my therapist post, I hope it amused you. I nearly sent you “How am i supposed to explain this to my therapist?!” But refrained. At that time.
So, therapy. What is therapy really? Well…
Things have been really rotten for as long as I can remember. Bad health, bad doctors, bad relationships, bad coping mechanisms, bad all kinds of things. (Yeah, bad is a weak and unhelpful word, my therapist reminds me, but we’re doing this.)
Well, things got even more really really rotten and BAD these last few years. Health declined further, coping mechanisms declined further and more intensely, packed up my life, applied for disability, moved back in with my parents across the country.
Then 4 years ago last week I watched my fiance die of a sudden heart attack. I was 29. Two years later my best friend died. Then last summer I sauntered vaguely into a cancer scare. Not long before an operation my cat who has been my companion through so much garbage died as well. I’m not entirely in the clear on the cancer scare front. All my attempts at going back to work, volunteering, going to grad school - they collapsed on me because I couldn’t get through this STUFF.
(Sometimes when I talk about this, when I tell people, I think “they are going to think you are a raging pathological liar.” Because I’m not sure I would believe someone if they told me all of this happened to them. In such a short time period. All before they were 35. And hell if that hasn’t been isolating. You know how it sounds? Lonely. And it is.)
I did the hypervigilant and sensation/experience chasing stage of PTSD. It got me in a lot of trouble in all kinds of ways. I had to do a lot of medical and psych advocating because things kept getting worse. That was exhausting. Then that peaked. I went into the thick of the “I feel absolutely nothing” stage for a long time. I didn’t feel fatigue or hunger or thirst. Not people, feelings, a reason. Not hope.
But of course, like seems be for a lot of us, I somehow found Good Omens at just the right time. I was a very “I’m so cool and intellectual I mostly consume non-fiction media” person for too long. Like, what? How is that even a real thing? And it wasn’t real. It was just part of this curated autism mask that I don’t think anyone really bought anyway.
I think I got to a point where I’d just had too much reality. I needed fantasy. I didn’t realize I always needed it. But I denied myself for too many odd and painful reasons. Maybe I thought it was an escape I didn’t deserve.
But as it turns out, it wasn’t an escape. I watched both seasons last fall, and then this light came on. I watched it again and again.
I came to tumblr because I needed more. I found this fandom. I stepped into this beautiful world of fanart and fanfiction and brain flexing meta writing and a sense of community and wonder that you and Terry created - that everyone involved in the show inflated - exploded in the right way - like fireworks if fireworks were some kind of autocatalytic reaction - a self perpetuating force.
It’s not a “saved my life” feeling. Not a “getting my life back” feeling. It’s been a “maybe it’s time for you to have the life you’ve always been denied - that you’ve denied yourself” feeling.
I’m creating. I’m not “great” yet. Not terribly “good” at all. Maybe “behind” as far as the “proper” timeline for starting. I know there isn’t one, not really, but boy does that society machine make ya feel like there is. And sure, I started and stopped a lot in the past. But the second it got hard I always gave up. I felt like if I didn’t get it “right” to begin with, then I just didn’t have it in me at all. But for once I’m really in it. I’m writing and trying to draw things that look less like fever dream five year old drawings. (Not that there’s anything wrong with those, is there? 🙃) I’m eating better. I’m sleeping better. I reach out to old friends more. I’ve made new friends who share this love of Good Omens.
My therapist has been floored by the change in me. After that first funny mini flop, he has been so encouraging about it. I saw him this week and I said “Maybe this is helping me get prepared to start living again. Maybe it’s a springboard.” And he honest to god said “But You ARE living. This is YOU LIVING. Why does it have to be a springboard? Why do you have to turn this into ‘work?’ Just let yourself have this for once in your life.”
But there were two more added elements that made it all work. And I can’t help but think this whole brainrot thing wouldn’t have happened without them. So many things just happened all at just the right time - a proper coincidence.
In all of the madness of the last few years I finally got the memo that I'm autistic. i figured I was for a while. But it finally sunk in for me and my docs and my people. So I’d been working on unpacking that. Grieving the life that could have been entirely different, shedding the mask. I let myself hyperfixate openly instead of hiding it and hating myself for “spiralling” or “obsessing” like others -!like ‘I’ always punished myself for before we knew that it was a trait and not a personality flaw.
Then over the last few months my therapist and I started trying this new exercise. One session he stopped me and said “in the last 20 minutes you have responded to what I’ve said with 9 ‘I knows.’” My response to that? “Ugh, I know.” So we started this “I know” swear jar type situation. Really, I’ve been afraid of not knowing. I couldn’t let myself “not know.” Because it meant I was “dumb.” I was just drowning for so long in guilt and self loathing for the “I knew better and screwed up anyway.” Or “I should’ve known better - I should know that by now.”
As it turns out, there’s a lot of things I don’t know. That I didn’t know. Things I will never know. And refusing to admit all of that kept me from learning a damn thing. Kept me from asking questions. Kept me from trying new things because it was scary to do something new - something unknown - and I "knew" how it would all turn out anyway. Kept me from connecting with people because it was painful or embarrassing when they knew things I didn’t and it seemed like I already should have. Kept me from getting better at making art, music, writing. Kept me from forgiving myself. Kept me from growing. And kept me from moving forward. Maybe not on. I don’t know if we ever “move on” from things. But we can move forward as we carry them. And as we do, the weight gets less. We’re able to carry it better. But only if we can admit that we don’t know how. Only if we don’t treat ourselves like this is something we do know or should know and we’re just failing because we’re less than. Not good enough. Not strong enough. Not deserving. We have to be able to say “I don’t know how to do this.” And then we can start looking for the answers. We can ask. We can learn.
I thought about the apple. Being able to tell the difference between good and evil. Aziraphale’s years and years of watching what he “knows” to be true be proven wrong. Crowley’s need to ask questions…
The simple and enormous gift of “Knowledge.” The “Knowledge” of the difference between Good and Evil. The “Knowledge” that can only be gained by realizing, accepting, admitting that there are things we don’t know. Asking the questions. Sometimes we get answers we don’t like. Sometimes the consequences of asking hurt us. And unless you want to stay in that painful place that painful knowledge got you, well, you’ve got to let yourself learn how to get out.
So all of this good? I never expected this. I never thought I deserved it. Joy and belonging and this sense that “Yeah, maybe things can get better. Maybe things can be good.” Because I said those things, not truly believing them, to the people I thought needed to hear it. But it couldn’t save them. It was hollow. The proof for us wasn’t really in our orbit or on our radar at the time. And now they’re gone.
People always say “it’s never too late.”
One of the people I lost said “it’s later than you think.”
I jokingly would respond “it’s already too late.”
It was for him in the end. For them. For some people I guess it really is. But maybe a lot of the “too late” people are there because they think “they know” that things will never be good for them. So they stop looking, they stop asking, stop finding. And eventually they just stop.
Then there came Crowley’s “It’s always too late.” The first time I heard it I thought “For sure, Crowley-cakes, I KNOW.”
But then…I just needed to rewatch the whole thing. And lines like that…familiar things…familiar themes…I was suddenly identifying with these characters. I suddenly saw myself. And the realization hit - I connected with something! Something new. And I FELT THAT. And that tiny little crack that made in the wall was just enough to start breaking it down. Yeah, when you start letting yourself feel after not feeling for so long, opening up to the good feelings means opening up to feelings and then the bad ones come out too. But when there IS good … it helps you balance. You can deal with the bad a little better because you’ve got the good thing to lean against when it gets too much. And now you’ve got feelings. You’ve got good and bad. You’ve got sticky foggy grey. You’ve got life.
Whew.
So, TLDR, thank you. From the bottom of my slowly healing heart, thank you.
And to sign off with some shits and giggles… I couldn’t find this in existence as a sticker so I had to custom order. Perhaps this will spread misery and panic among the humans of my city - or at least a malignant and creepy sense of unease.
Or maybe they’ll say “wtf” and go home and google it and they’ll fall into the Good Omens hole they never knew they needed too.
Thank you for this. I never quite know what to say to messages like this apart from I am really glad that it helps. (It becomes the weird extra piece that I worry about when writing season 3 -- hoping that it will be that thing again. Not just a story, but something that helps people feel and helps with healing and helps with love.)
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
i have been holding space for the Agatha finale (i’m in queer media) and am pleased to report that my feelings about it have shifted quite significantly. follow me, my friends, to a more or less coherent, very long text post at the end
primary thing: this show is very much about motherhood. idk why that didn’t totally register for me in the first half given how often they mentioned Nicky, but realizing this changed my analysis a ton. Billy doesn’t just remind Agatha of Nicky — Agatha loves Billy like a son. (i know “like a son” is an oversimplification, but I’m sticking with it for this post.)
with that, my thoughts on Agatha’s arc almost completely flipped. when Rio shows up in E8 and says she has to take Billy, Agatha is revisiting her deepest wound all over again. her reaction is harsh, but it’s not some long-simmering revenge plan or a calculated effort to hurt Rio. Agatha is literally just reacting to the fact that, after all of the almost-reconciliation, the love of her life is taking her son again. i think she was trying to get Rio to fight for her or to say the trade was too high a price and bend the rules. Agatha was trying to get Death to act only as her lover, and looks devastated when Rio actually walks away instead.
and so, when Agatha goes to the morgue trial and says that “sometimes, boys die,” she’s continuing that realization that Rio isn’t personally chasing her down and causing her grief. sometimes, death just… happens. and “out of Death, life” is largely about Agatha realizing that Rio did bend the rules for Nicky, but also doubles down on the Nicky and Billy parallels. both of Agatha’s sons were literally borne of Death and living on stolen time. loss is inevitable.
i think Agatha genuinely believed that Rio could have kept Nicky alive and chose not to. we know that Agatha blamed herself for Nicky dying (“the truth is too awful”). so Agatha, who was taught by her own mother that nobody would ever actually love her for who she is, probably thought that the love of her life just… didn’t love her as much as she thought she did. going back to E1, i think “you don’t have a heart” is equal parts about Nicky as it is about Agatha herself. her main takeaway is that everyone will betray her, even when they claim to love her, and so she hides behind power and a god awful reputation so that she can keep everyone at arm’s length and never get hurt again.
ALL OF THIS IS TO SAY: when Billy is about to die, Agatha almost retreats back into the version of herself she became after Nicky died, but she doesn’t. she turns around and faces the pain head-on.
and I want to take a second to appreciate how immensely hard that would be. Agatha spent centuries killing people so she could be powerful enough to stay numb. Agatha spent all of that time pushing away the love of her life, who still loves her, who still sees her fully, and who Agatha is clearly still desperate to return to. Agatha realizes, probably to absurd amounts of despair, that she was wrong about all of it. and she still turns around.
it’s not about Agatha randomly sacrificing herself for a last minute villain kind-of-redemption. it’s about Agatha breaking the cycle she’s trapped herself in for an unfathomably long time, admitting that she knows Rio couldn’t change the outcome, and acknowledging that, yeah, she actually does love this kid.
and honestly?? i don’t think Agatha becoming a ghost counts as killing her. she’s literally still around, doing stuff, picking up brooches (👀 Rio wya), and getting a second chance at… not motherhood, exactly, but caring for a child. (and a queer child! and the idea of Agatha, who has been queer since the *1600s*, getting to tell this gay kid over and over again that there’s nothing innately wrong with him makes me actually sob.)
HOWEVER! i maintain some criticisms. i think Jen deserved to have an actual fight with the doctor who bound her. (the oops! it was Agatha All Along twist was… complicated. i have mixed feelings. essay for another day, but i wanted Jen to have rage time that everyone was just cheering for.)
i needed Death lore. how is she physically with Agatha so often if, as Agatha states, 120 people die every minute? is she Death the cosmic entity, or are green witches sort of responsible for decay on earth?
some of the plot elements were severely under-developed, and frustratingly, the vast majority of the underdeveloped plotlines had to do with Agatha/Rio’s romantic relationship, Agatha’s mother, and Agatha’s reasons for killing people. (the fact that they said she’s a siphon in interviews and not once on the show will never stop baffling me lmao.) i find it very frustrating that a LARGE chunk of the underdeveloped stuff relates back to Agatha’s queerness in some way.
however… i am willing to be generous about some of that, because i find it difficult to believe that this *extremely queer* creative team actually just disregarded major queer plot elements. i am far more inclined to believe that they were operating under a hostile corporation and pushing as far as they could, and in that case, they did a fucking phenomenal job.
i genuinely think that the way they landed the show opens the door for them to… dare I say it? … give Agatha/Rio a happy ending?? ghost Agatha literally need only show up to Rio’s house or cave or dimension or whatever and be like “heyyyyy, yeah that kiss was forgiveness and also i’m solid enough to use my hands now” and it would be believable. the fact that it would take them only 15 seconds to give us two fucked up lesbians having their version of happily ever after is actually pretty cool
anyway, this is an abridged summary of how my feelings abt the Agatha All Along finale went from like a 4/10 rating to an 8/10.
204 notes
·
View notes
Note
i think aphrodite kid reader x clarisse is simply just better??? like the trope is just superior??? like, we have clarisse who is tough, and mean and one of the strongest people at camp, then we have reader who is kind and compassionate and really doesn’t care all that much about fighting. so naturally, clarisse is super protective and treats reader like a princess?? how could people dislike it 😔😔
no exactly and i actually must write about this - basically this is just all about the little things clarisse does for her perfect princess angel daughter of aphrodite gf (me!!!!!!)
okay as payment for my absence please accept some shitty headcanons I LOVE YOU ALL BYEEEE
she’s just always DOING THINGS FOR YOU
she’s so perceptive and she always knows exactly what you want and need even if you don’t know it yourself
like if you like wearing high heels one) clarisse genuinely wonders what is wrong w you
she sees no practicality in them bc there isn’t lol
but also she’s like omg???? MY GF feels safe enough around me to wear shoes she can’t run in???? WHAT JOY!!!!!!!!!
and you’ll come back to your cabin being all ugh omg my feet hurt so bad laying on the bed and putting your feet UP
and clarisse is like “well i could have told you that”
excuse me????
“don’t get me wrong baby you look gorgeous and i love you wearing heels but it’s your funeral”
“DIE”
she just laughs and takes your shoes off
she’ll continue to bully you as she’s literally massaging your feet like ok girl yeah we see you
clarisse is also a MENACE about making sure you eat
“did you eat today?”
“babe you SAW me at lunch”
“just making sure….”
you’re just so kind and amazing and clarisse loves you so much but you are not the best at fighting!
she is constantly stressed when you’re not by her side
bc no one loves you like her who will protect you 💔💔💔💔
when someone takes advantage of you she gets so PISSED OFF
bc it’s not like someone is beating you up it’ll be like someone is using you as their personal therapist or smth and you’re just like “pls go speak to an actual professional wtf 😭😭😭”
and she’s so pissed off bc WHY IS THIS BITCH PSYCHOLOGICALLY AND EMOTIONALLY TORTURING HER GIRL??????
she’s not afraid to beat people up for you and actually enjoys it!
anyways, clarisse is also a koala bear
and an emotionally stunted caveman
she’s not good with her words so these actions are all she has to show you that she loves you
idk if y’all have noticed but clar rarely saying ily to y/n bc it’s my personal headcanon that she has such a hard time saying those words. she shows you she loves you but for some reason it’s just so hard to get the words out. (…BC SHE IS AN EMOTIONALLY STUNTED CAVEMAN)
so she quickly adapts to do all these little things
if you’re walking down a flight of stairs trust she is holding your hand
QUEEN of opening jars for you
if you’re not feeling well or you’re tired or just feeling lazy she’ll bully someone into doing your chores for you
also this bitch is NOT afraid to stand up for you and make sure you get what you deserve.
like that one meme
“UM… she said NO PICKLES… you fucking dumbasses…”
“CLARISSE 😭😭😭”
also like in “better than revenge” she loves to watch you do your makeup
finds it so fascinating that you can only get PRETTIER
like she’s okay at makeup but you can do that shit perfectly like standing on your head
you make it seem so effortless
she’s not a HUGE makeup girly but sometimes she’ll let you just go crazy
so you can sit on top of her….. that one sapphic meme yes…..
also she’s constantly bragging about you
“yeah… i have the prettiest gf in camp… y’all are just losers what can i say”
ofc if anyone were to agree w her she would go insane
“yeah y/n is so pretty”
“um ok yeah you don’t have to say it i say it enough….”
even if one of your siblings gives you a compliment she’s like HOLD THE FUCK ON- then she remembers THATS YOUR SIBLING ITS OK and she’s like oh this is so embarrassing.
will she stop? no ofc not
she’s constantly telling you how pretty you are. beautiful. gorgeous. exquisite. all the words
loves kissing you all over
KISSES YOUR HAND 🤭🤭
anyways going back to the clarisse koala bear agenda that got away from me
she’s just always touching you
hand on the small of your hand guiding you somewhere
hand around your waist
SITTING IN HER LAP AT CAMPFIRES
no matter what type of hair you have she’s obsessed w it. if you have pin straight hair she’s so obsessed w the fact that you don’t need a huge curl routine like her, finds it fascinating
if you do have curls she loves doing a curl routine together
whatever whatever type of hair you have she’s obsessed with it and will wash it for you if you want
so soft and lovingly like a more of a scalp massage than a hair washing
will brush your hair for you, braid it for you, anything you like just OBSESSED
she loves when you like sit on top of a picnic table and then she gets to sit in between your legs on the bench thinks it’s so so fun and so so silly
she LOVESSSSS sleeping w you OBVI.
on top of you, you on top of her, she’s a koala bear. like entirely wrapped around you
partially bc she is as aforementioned a koala bear and partly bc she is overprotective even in her sleep
if you move in the middle of the night even just a little bit
she’s a super light sleeper i feel like
always on the guard fr ✊
a little bit better when you’re there tho
so if you move in the middle of the night she’ll just like caress your hair and kiss your cheek and try to shush you back to sleep
like bitch you’re still asleep have you never heard of ADJUSTING? MOVING? SHIFTING?
hope you’re not one of those people who has to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night bc with clarisse that will stop
you can’t abandon her even for 2 minutes even for basic bodily functions like you just can’t it’s so inconsiderate to her… 💔
taglist:
@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss @ravisinghs-wife @marsconer @evangelinexo @randomhoex @luvrrish @rebecca37 @saltair-and-palemoonlight @ace-spades-1
#clarisse la rue#clarisse la rue x reader#clarisse la rue x y/n#clarisse la rue x you#pjo tv show#pjo x reader
660 notes
·
View notes
Text
thinking about mouth washing SPOILERS UNDER CUT
after watching manlybadasshero play mouthwashing, i’ve come to say that jimmy can suck a fat dick and curly and anya are end game (even though he didn’t protect her from jimmy, he still was trying to help in some sort of way)
Daisuke and anya are sweet souls that didn’t deserve to die to some narcissistic asshole who thought he could “fix” everything, when in reality, he’s root that caused all the problems to happen in the first place.
and don’t even get me started on the perspectives differences between curly and jimmy, the way he sees the crew as “nurse” who is too poor to go back to school (anya), old man that gonna croak before he knows it (Swansea), and young “spoiled brat” who can just live off of mommy’s and daddy’s money (daisuke).
he views everyone as a problem while he’s the one that’s supposed to be able to fix all of them. he literally doesn’t even see them and people with emotions, just problems he HAS to fix
his delusions especially pissed me off, at the end of the game it shows the rest of the crew sitting around the table, smiling at him, calling him a friend and celebrating. but when you get to another perspective, birds eye, you see that all of them are dead and slumped over showcasing that even in his delusions, he still sees himself as the “hero”
but curly on the other hand, god do i love curly, you can just SEE the difference in his perspective. the way he talks to anya and the rest of the crew is just beautiful, he see anya as an actual person with feelings, someone who you can have deep conversations with and never wanna stop. then swansea and daisuke, he knows swansea can be harsh and cold sometimes, but he saw how daisuke was somewhat breaking that down.
GOD HIS PERSPECTIVE IS JUST MY FAVORITE SO MUCH JUST a CAUSE YOU CAN SEE HOW MUCH HE TREATS THE CREW BETTER THAN JIMMY
and then here comes jimmy, mr “everything has to happen my way” causing the ship to crash, pretty much almost killing curly, and blaming curly about the crash to try and get the crew to turn on him cause he envy’s how curly is so well liked. and then indirectly causing everyone’s deaths (including also raping anya, that part made my gut drop to my ass dude)
all in all, i fucking hate jimmy, kill your self next time
#mouthwashing game#mouthwashing#jimmy mouthwashing#daisuke mouthwashing#anya mouthwashing#swansea mouthwashing#curly mouthwashing#i’m gen in love with this game and the story telling GOD
208 notes
·
View notes
Text
Comfort
Kenan Yildiz x reader warnings: none, sad Kenan
Your heart dropped when you saw Kenan pull his shirt over his head. You knew he’d take this hard because he was so optimistic before and this just crushed his dreams. Your work wouldn’t let you fly in for the games so you had to watch them from home and now you had to wait for him to come home before you could comfort him.
The second he got off the plane, you embraced him, just holding him tightly, trying to offer as much comfort as you could. The ride home was silent but not an awkward silence which was nice. You gently rubbed the pad of your thumb over his hand as you drove.
“Warum hassen sie mich?” (Why do they hate me?) He quietly muttered once the both of you were laying down on the bed, his arms wrapped around you as he clinged onto you, you didn’t mind, you wanted him to be comfortable. Your face fell and softened at his question and you brought your hand up to his cheek, softly stroking his skin.
“Sie wollen nur, dass jemand die Schuld gibt. Sie sind enttäuscht und müssen es an jemandem auslassen. Es ist nicht richtig, dass sie es an dir auslassen, es war nicht deine Schuld.” (They just want someone to blame. They're disappointed and need to take it out on someone. It isn't right that they're taking it out on you though, it wasn't your fault.) You quietly tell him as you press a soft kiss to his temple. He buries his head into your neck and you feel soft sobs rack through his body. Your heart clenches as he sobs into your neck and you gently run your hand through his hair, making soothing motions on his back with the other.
“Lass es raus, Süße, es ist okay.” (Just let it out, sweetheart, it's okay.) You mutter as you hold him, trying your best to comfort him even though you don’t really know how because you haven’t gone through something similar. You’re trying your best and you know that he tried his best too but sometimes trying your best isn’t enough because the others are just better and that’s fine too, that’s the way life goes, some people just aren’t mature enough to realize it.
It doesn’t take long for Kenan to fall asleep in your arms and you follow soon after.
You wake up before Kenan and take the time to admire his face, he looks so peaceful and relaxed as he sleeps. You gently trace his features, you had truly missed him while he was away for the European Championship and although you wished he had gotten further, you were glad that he was back home with you.
He stirs a little before opening his eyes, he’s still a little groggy from his sleep and he grumbles something incoherent before dropping his head back onto your chest, making you giggle.
“Wir sollten aufstehen, Kenan, es ist schon 11 Uhr.” (We should get up, Kenan, it's already 11 o'clock.) You tell him softly as you try to sit up a little, he protests and pulls you back down, which makes you laugh.
“Kenan, bitte.” (Kenan, please) You laugh as you try to sit up again and this time he just sighs and looks up at you with puppy eyes.
“Okay, wir können aufstehen.” (Alright, we can get up.) He grumbles when he realizes you’re not backing down. He rolls off you and sighs while rubbing his eyes. You get up already and walk to the kitchen to make breakfast, giving Kenan a little more time to get up.
He walks up behind you after a few minutes and wraps his arms around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder and pressing a few soft kisses on your neck. You lean into his touch as you continue making the pancakes, carefully flipping them.
“Ich weiß nicht, was ich getan habe, um dich zu verdienen.” (I don’t know what I did to deserve you.) He mutters into your ear, you smile and shrug a little.
“Das frage ich mich auch, Hübscher.” (I ask myself the same question, pretty boy.) You reply before pressing a soft kiss to his cheek and putting the pancakes on two plates, one for you and one for him.
There’s a comfortable silence between the both of you as you eat at the dining table until he breaks the silence.
“Wie soll ich mit dem Hass umgehen, den ich bekomme?” (How should I deal with the hate I'm getting?) He asks you, looking very unsure and vulnerable and you take his hand over the table.
“Ich denke, es wäre am besten, wenn Sie die Kommentare zu Ihren letzten Posts in den sozialen Medien deaktivieren oder zumindest einschränken.” (I think it'd be best if you turn off the comments on your recents posts on social media, or at least limit them.) You tell him and he nods, it’s a good idea and it might help at least a little bit.
“Ich bin so froh, dich kennengelernt zu haben, ich weiß nicht, was ich ohne dich tun würde.” (I'm so glad I met you, I don't know what I'd do without you.) He tells you with a relieved sigh and your gaze softens, a loving smile growing on your face.
“Ich liebe dich, Kenan, bis zum Mond und zurück, vielleicht sogar noch mehr.” (I love you, Kenan, to the moon and back, maybe even more.) You tell him, pressing a kiss to his knuckles.
“Zum Mond und zurück.” (To the moon and back.) He whispers with a soft smile.
------------------------
I'm not entirely sure of what i think about this but meh, it's okay and i wanted to bring out some comfort fluff because seeing how sad he was and all the hate he's getting hurts so yeah
please send requests :)
#kenan yildiz#kenan#yildiz#kenan yildiz x reader#eth edwards 73 thoughts#soccer#uefa euro 2024#fluff
269 notes
·
View notes
Note
the characters finding out about mc's fwb but instead of it being with a random demon, it's solomon >>>>
them being flabbergasted not only about the situation but that you have the arrangement with that shady sorcerer. also frustrated because of course you'd take comfort on the only other human in the devildom!
➤ when they find out solomon is your fwb
characters: the demon brothers + dateables
1k words | gn!reader | nsfw | snarky and suggestive
c/w: jealousy, non-explicit sexual content, implied voyeurism, implied threesomes/moresomes
related: finding out you having a fwb: the demon brothers | the dateables
disappointed but not surprised: lucifer, beelzebub, diavolo
They warned you, didn't they?
Solomon is the shadiest sorcerer to ever exist. He's powerful and unpredictable and he can't even be called human anymore. Why in all the Devildom did you have to pick him? You could've had literally anyone else!
Unheeded warnings about not getting too close to Solomon turn into vague reminders that the demons are there to save you from that white-haired menace if you ever need them to.
Lucifer sneaks behind your back and gives Solomon the world's scariest shovel talk, which is a little silly since this was only supposed to be a casual arrangement for comfort and intimacy. (Of course, no one realized that you and Solomon managed to catch feels along the way.) Lucifer's thinly-veiled threats promising a painful demise should be enough to scare anyone away.
None of them expect Solomon to abruptly end your casual relationship so that he can date you officially instead. He looks far too smug with himself when you hold his hand at RAD in front of the others or when he becomes a semi-regular visitor at the House of Lamentation.
Your undeniable happiness is a constant reminder to the others that they underestimated both humans in the exchange program.
why didn't anyone stop them?! (yeah, they're jealous af): mammon, leviathan, satan, belphegor
This is awful. Isn't this why they were supposed to keep an eye on you, to keep you from getting mixed up with people like him?!
"Weren't you supposed to do that, Mammon?"
"Shuddup!"
They hate Solomon's guts. They don't think he deserves you. (They might not deserve you either, but you could do a hell of a lot better than him!)
They roll their eyes and gag dramatically when Solomon kisses your cheek or cozies up beside you in the cafeteria at lunch. When you're not looking, they shoot daggers at him and make not-too-subtle gestures that translate roughly to I'm watching you and if you hurt them, you die. They're less subtle and more aggressive than Lucifer is, and Solomon thinks it's hilarious.
He knows how lucky he is that he caught your eye first and not them. He'd be lying to himself if he said he didn't enjoy rubbing it in their faces just a little bit. Maybe he forgets to use a silencing charm on your bedroom door when he fucks you in the House of Lamentation.
Maybe he wears low-collar shirts to show off the fresh line of marks you made around the base of his neck. He leaves a toothbrush in your ensuite bathroom and spare clothes in your closet.
Sometimes you wear his clothes when you don't have class because they still smell like him. You don't notice the demons sitting beside you at breakfast twitch in their seats and suddenly lose their appetites.
You feel so fortunate that you found friendship and love in the Devildom. Your friends tell you (and themselves) that they're happy for you too. You don't notice how fake their smiles are when they see you together (but Solomon does).
they're surprisingly okay with it and no one understands why: asmodeus, barbatos, simeon
They don’t know whether to blame fate or their own bad luck that brought you and Solomon together. They grudgingly admit you could do a lot worse than the white-haired menace that seems to adore you. As long as you’re happy and treated well, they don't feel it’s their place to interfere.
The others might sulk and pretend they’re not disappointed, or they might be openly belligerent about it, but some of your friends still support you above all else.
Asmo drags you into his room and gossips with you about Solomon while he does your nails. Tell me, you can be honest—how is he in bed with you? I’ve never seen him like this with anyone else! Oh, I bet he's so romantic, isn't he~ He’s curious about your relationship and teases you for intimate details that are too personal to share, but you know he's genuinely excited for you.
Barbatos doesn’t say much about your relationship openly, but he enjoys reminding the others that if they were less distracted by their own foolishness, they wouldn’t have taken you for granted.
Simeon welcomes you with open arms as a guest to Purgatory Hall when the atmosphere at the House of Lamentation grows too stifling. He does his best to make sure Solomon doesn’t completely ruin dinner when you visit in the evenings. He enjoys discussing books and your other shared interests when the sorcerer is busy; Solomon knows you're safe with the angels in his absence.
Like Asmo and Barbatos, you grow closer with Simeon as well through your mutual connections to Solomon. You might not realize what they’re up to when they try to spend more time with you outside of class, but Solomon does. Their sweet gestures of comfort linger far too long to be considered platonic, and the way desire creeps into their eyes when they gaze at you from afar would irritate him if they were anyone else.
He has long, colourful pasts with both Asmo and Barbatos, and Simeon quickly became one of his trusted friends while living in the close quarters of Purgatory Hall together. It wouldn't be the first time Solomon invited one of his acquaintances for a little bit of fun in the bedroom, but that was only to share casual partners he didn’t have feelings for. The thought of sharing you with anyone else nearly drives him to violence.
Time dulls those jealous impulses, and he admits how appealing it would be to watch you with one (or more) of them together. You’re so lovely in the throes of pleasure, and there's a certain thrill from watching on the sidelines. He knows they'll obey without question when he tells them how to touch you, and he can savor watching you fall apart under their hands and his sinful commands. He gets hard just imagining you crying out his name when you cum, even if one of the others is between your legs instead of him.
If you admit to feeling desire for any of them, he'll discuss those delicious possibilities with you too.
read more: headcanons masterlist | obey me! masterlist
#obey me#omswd#obey me solomon#solomon x reader#obey me solomon x reader#solomon smut#obey me smut#obey me x reader#x reader#gn!reader
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
hello, i saw your post about how people should not censor out or analyse Jimmy for the fear that it’d look like excusing his actions, and honestly i agree. Particularly, what you said stood out to me, I think I will remember it from here on:
“Trying to constantly make out the fact that rapists are faceless monsters that have never been people completely ignores the fact that most of them are people we know and people we care about.”
ngl does kinda make me teary, very based take I haven’t seen anyone make yet. I’m a CSA and incest survivor, it’s easy to say rapists are horrible people and should die, but it’s more complex than that, especially if you grew up with them and care about them.
I wanted to share that post so bad, but I’m a coward reblogging hot takes in this fandom. Just know I screenshotted that post for personal keepings because it was so based.
There’s also one interpretation of Anya that I haven’t seen yet: the non-angry. It is understandable that people may feel empowerment drawing Anya killing Jimmy. My interpretation of her (because I’m projecting hard lmao), she may not be angry or killing Jimmy in her mind. “I don’t want revenge, I just want peace” type of thing. My version of Anya is just someone who doesn’t seek revenge towards Jimmy or berating Curly for not doing her justice; just someone who wants safety, a peace of mind. It’s kinda weird when I see art of Anya lowkey guiltripping a post-crash Curly, it just feels off. Anya doesn’t seem the kind to be vengeful anyway.
Sometimes I think something’s wrong with me for not feeling angry at my abusers just as others seem to be, but I remind myself that responses to trauma can be varying. Nothing’s wrong with the revenge interpretations, more power to those who feel empowered by it, but I would like to see the non-angry interpretation someday, especially on a soft-hearted character like Anya.
Hi Anon! Thank you so much for your question! And more importantly, from one survivor to another, I know more than most about how it feels to have someone you trusted or someone you were supposed to trust have them go and do something as awful as rape or assault, and it's true because that happens a lot. It's a part of grooming victims, so constantly trying to make out these people as faceless monsters who emerge to only do bad is detrimental to the fact that they can, will be and are the people you hold closest sometimes.
And I'm honestly just as teary-eyed thinking about how that resonates with people because it's a very uncomfortable truth that not a lot of people want to reckon with or even understand and completely ignore. I was much like you when it came to opinions like this, "fandom discourse" as people may say, and I was terrified of reblogging it or even making a suggestion towards it in fear of it being a bad take or one that doesn't even make sense, but after years of writing and reading, it's helped me a ton to grasp themes, nuance, metaphors- the like. That's why I post my own analysis: because I know and understand how much it means to have someone speak on such an overlooked thing. When you don't have someone doing that, or anyone to even bounce your ideas off of, you start to feel like you're stretching it or simply going mad.
I actually really, really dislike the interpretation that Anya is angry, resentful or has any revenge towards Curly, or that she has to be this, hysterical mad woman sent out to kill or hurt Jimmy. I don't believe she's either of this. Anya deserves peace, and I think it's extremely important to understand just how similar she is to Curly.
They're both victims to the same man, they both believe in the best of people (although to their own detriment in a way) they want to find peace, and fulfilment in their career and life. They're so alike in such delicate and intimate ways, that trying to constantly paint Curly as this great, horrible oppressor over her does way more harm than good.
I've mentioned in a couple of posts now that Curly's good heart and his kindness aren't inherently a bad thing, and that's because it isn't a bad thing. It was because Jimmy was so ready to abuse him every time he showed "weakness" and the fact that Pony Express probably had already been exploiting it for a very long time, that made It as catastrophic as it was. And that's not his fault, that's not Anya's either.
Curly’s biggest weakness is his forgiving nature. We all talk about how Anya is a victim of Jimmy, and she absolutely is, but so is Curly. His first immediate response Jimmy's reaction to Anya announcing her pregnancy is met with immense fear and anxiety with the added soundtrack of what could be equivalent to the sound of Curly's heart racing.
He is beyond terrified, and when he does finally get to Jimmy, he immediately fawns and freezes. He makes absolutely no mention of Anya or anyone else because all that mattered in that panicked situation was easing Jimmy down and resolving the situation. Curly was and has been a victim of Jimmy's abuse for a very long time on an emotional and mental aspect that clouded his judgements and perceptions in the scenario which devolved into physical abuse very quickly once Jimmy got his chance. It is also true that Curly had a responsibility to protect Anya as a crew mate and Captain but he failed due to bias towards his abusers, and his kind and forgiving nature of simply wanting to see the good in Jimmy, which is a manifest of his trauma and being a victim, also definitely something that Jimmy himself has instilled into Curly.
And like you say, it is perfectly fine to interpret her this way, but it feels very... out of character. This is the same character that so reverently believes that our worst moments don't make us monsters, and I don't think it's insane to apply this sentiment to Curly too, because his worst moment was simply being too forgiving to someone who deserved it the least- which is its own trauma response.
Again, so sorry for the long response, I've been sitting on this ask for a while simply because I wanted to answer the best I could, and I have a lot of feelings about Curly and Anya and how they're reflections of each other in being victims. Thank you so much for sending in an ask! ╰(*´︶`*)╯
#mouthwashing jimmy#mouthwashing curly#mouthwashing#mouthwashing anya#curly mouthwashing#anya mouthwashing#jimmy mouthwashing#anon
100 notes
·
View notes
Text
He doesn’t know how they got here, but Jason’s thankful for it. It’s not often that he speaks to Cass, when Jason’s passions are words and righteous murder and Cass’s passions are distinctly not that, but when they do speak, they manage to get along. Somehow.
“So, why don’t you kill?” Jason leans back on the couch, his favorite mug filled with Alfred’s hot chocolate.
Cass is curled against the arm of the sofa. She looks at him, head tilted. Jason knows she’s reading him, but he’s not sure what she’s finding. It’s humbling, and intimidating, to know she sees more than what he allows to show.
“I can see,” she says. “That one time… I killed. I saw. Pain. Fear. Desp- des- not wanting to die.”
“Desperation?”
Cass nods. One of her fingers fiddle with the material of the couch. Jason knows she’s allowing him to see the motion. He knows it’s her silent way of showing him trust.
“There is more. To dying. Like… like they see their lives-They think- remembers. Loves. Their life- regret, love, everything. It goes through-” Cass taps her temple.
“Their lives are flashing through their heads?”
“Yes. Good. Bad. Everything. I see.” Quieter, Cass adds “I know. I know them, then. I killed a life that I know. They love. Everyone, have something they love. I kill, I kill that love.”
“That must suck.”
Cass leans back. She nods, neck releasing their tension and eyes less hunted, more accepting.
“Yes. I don’t want to- I don’t want to be the end.” Cass swivels her shoulders towards him, now. “Why… why do you?”
“Me?” Jason… hasn’t thought about it for a while, nor too deeply. But this is Cass. And her honesty deserves an honest reply. “I kill because some people shouldn’t be left alive to hurt and kill others”
“Not about… Bruce?”
Jason took a sip of his hot chocolate. Cass settled more into the couch, her eyes clear and watchful.
“It used to be,” he admitted. “About him, I mean. It used to be about vengeance. But then I came back to Crime Alley, and then I saw the kids getting hurt instead of being protected. They’re innocent. And then, it wasn’t about Bruce anymore. Killing is just the means to an end now, for me.”
“Do you- not regret?” She makes a gesture at his leg, where on a normal day, his holsters would be.
“I try to make sure I don’t kill people I’d regret, no. Like, you know how sometimes you guys arrest muggers?”
Cass nodded.
“Sometimes,” Jason said, remembering the days of digging through trash for food and the lingering hunger that rumbled through his younger self’s stomach. “They mug people because they’re desperate. I don’t kill those guys. But people deal to kids? Who hurt sex workers? Rapists? They’re doing irreparable harm, with full knowledge of their actions. For profit, mostly. If they’re willing to ruin lives, then they should be ready for their own to be ruined. It’s justice, for people like me.”
Cass studied him. “Justice…?”
“The only kind us Alley kids could ever appreciate. Arresting an abuser, a threat, and having that stick is for the privileged. Having that threat removed completely is relieving.”
“Can’t trust the world to be fair. But death, is fair.”
“Yeah. I think if I saw as much as you do, it’d be harder to do. But I think I’d still kill, because one person’s suffering after a life of being evil is worth the safety of so many others. To know… well, I guess I’m glad I don’t know what that’s like.”
“I see.”
“I know you do,” Jason grins at her. “But not killing is an act of courage too. Even if B makes it seem like it should come instinctually.”
“Yes. He does not connect, with Damian. Does not understand, fully, how hard. To unlearn.”
“Yeah.”
They sit in silence for a while after that, listening to the sounds of their family clambering around in other rooms.
“Hey, Cass?”
Cass turned back to him.
“I would kill David Cain for you.”
He would. It makes the Pit seethe when he thinks about how much David Cain and Lady Shiva hurt Cass for her to get this insanely good at reading people. He hopes she sees the pure honesty and sincerity he feels at that declaration
Cass puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezed once. Twice.
“Okay. Thank you.”
“No objections?”
“… would not feel too bad.”
Jason snorted.
“Yeah. You and me both.”
He doesn’t know how they got here, but he’s thankful for it anyways, because he understands his sister just that much more now.
#cassandra cain#black bat#Jason Todd#red hood#they have different philosophies#but theyre family your honor#cass would stop jay from murdering people if she sees him#he’d let her bc he’s not gonna win that fight#he’d also go back and kill whoever later#David Cain#being a horrible parent I hate this guy#dc#Cassandra Cain seeing someone’s emotions as they die#she doesn’t want to be a weapon#Batman
421 notes
·
View notes
Text
All too well
The first chapter to this post
TW: Angst
Despite the popular disbelief of your friends, military school was never easy for you. Of course, you had the greatest test scores most of the time, but what use were they when no one believed you achieved them? Being the only girl in class sucked; most of your classmates believed you were basically a prostitute, giving the teacher head so you would pass, which couldn't be further from the truth. You were still a virgin. Okay, it’s normal at 18, or isn’t it? You didn’t know. The people who didn’t believe you were pleasing the teacher under the table thought the teacher favored you since you were a girl.
They thought the military was too hard for you to pass and the teachers knew soldiers needed eye candy on the field. All idiots. The only man in your class who wasn’t full of patriarchal disbelief was Jonathan William Price, but though he may have seen you as someone who didn’t fuck around for good grades, he hated you. You didn’t know why at first, but after some time, the hate went both ways. He fought against you harder than against the others. He teased you and made you feel like you weren’t good enough even though you were better than him most of the time. He still won against you a few times, which sat sour in your eyes.
This was your last year, and after that, you’d be in the real field where prejudice didn’t have a place. There, they would only see your strength - only one year left. You sat in the front row of the yellow classroom, waiting for the new term to start and to get your tasks and assignments for the following months. Jonathan walked past you with his dumb, shit-eating grin.
“Still didn’t quit, love?”
“Still an idiot, I see.”
“You love it, don’t you?”
“In your dreams,” you rolled your eyes at him and tried to ignore his annoying, insufferable personality. Sometimes ignoring him didn’t help, even complaining to your friends: “Boys will be boys.” God, how you hated that sentence. There was only one thing you hated more than that, and it was him.
---------------------------------------------------------
“You missed something, love,” he pointed at the mannequin with a bullet hole in the stomach instead of the heart.
“Shut up or I’ll use you as a mannequin next.”
“With your aim, I have nothing to worry about.”
“Go away, Price.”
“Let me show you how,” he walked behind you, his hips pressed against you as he corrected your stance. And indeed, after the correction, you hit the target perfectly.
“That has nothing to do with you.”
“I think a thank you is in order.” Stupid idiot with his cocky smile and replies, and his stupid beautiful eyes.
“I’d rather die than say thank you to you.”
“Ouch, kitten has claws.”
“If you call me kitten again, I’ll kill you.”
“As if you were able to, little missy.”
------------------------------------------------------------
“Guess we’re working together on this.”
“I won’t work with you, Jonathan Price.”
----------------------------------------------
Stuck in a safe house for a week, you got close to each other. He wasn’t that prick you believed him to be; he was actually nice and kind of funny.
“Can you call me John?”
“Why?”
“I hate being called Jonathan, even worse, William.”
“Everyone calls you that.”
“And I hate it,” he admitted.
“Can I ask why?”
“My dad chose this name. Mum always called me John, but Dad insisted on calling me Jonathan. William is actually my dad’s name.”
“Not a good relationship with your dad?”
“Hate that bastard. Never cared about me or Mum, only about the military.”
“I get that.”
“Your old man is shit too?”
“Never wanted a girl, didn’t even talk to me when I was a kid.”
He poured a glass of whiskey for both of us. “We won’t turn out like them.”
“We won’t.”
---------------------------------------------------------
When you heard he needed to face disciplinary actions, you couldn’t believe it. John never did anything against the rules, well, not since high school.
“What did you do?”
“Stupid muppet deserved it.”
“Why?”
“Told everyone you slept with Sergeant Filch.”
“John, I’m a big girl. I can protect myself.”
“And what if I don’t want you to have to protect yourself?”
---------------------------------------------------------------
“What do you mean you’re still a virgin?”
“I said you’re not allowed to make fun of this, John.”
“I’m not laughing, just surprised. You know, you look beautiful. Just thought a lucky bloke already swept you off your feet.”
“No lucky bloke even tried.”
“Do you want to lose your virginity?”
“John.”
“I said, do you want to lose it?”
“Yes.”
--------------------------------------------------------------
“Do you believe in soulmates, John?”
“Mhm.”
“Do you think we are soulmates in every universe?”
“Can’t think of a version of me who doesn’t fall in love with you.”
“You love me?”
“Of course, love.”
“I love you too.”
------------------------------------------------------
“What do you want, Dad?”
“There is only one place in the SAS for this class. Don’t disappoint me, Jonathan.”
“I won’t disappoint you.”
--------------------------------------------------------
“John, can you imagine we will both be in the SAS after the test tomorrow? We are basically a power couple, like Bonnie and Clyde, just as good people.”
“You think we will still be together in the SAS?”
“Of course, I love you.”
“I don’t love you.”
“What?” You laughed awkwardly. He must be joking, one of his stupid jokes again.
“I said I don’t love you.”
“But you said yesterday that you love me.”
“Are you really that stupid?”
“John.”
“Your own dad couldn’t love you, what made you believe that I did?”
Your heart shattered into a million pieces. You tried hard to hold your tears together. “John, you’re being mean.”
“And you’re being stupid for thinking you were more to me than a quick fuck.”
--------------------------------------------------
SAS Enlisting Test
Jonathan William Price: 150 points, accepted
Y/N L/N: 149 points, accepted
----------------------------------------------------
“Love, you got in,” John screamed out of reflex, hugging you tight.
“What is wrong with you, John? Why do you hate me so much? Why do you act like this now and yesterday?”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry you think that cuts it.”
“It’s not like you think it is. I love you, I just needed to get in. You don’t get it.”
“No, Jonathan, you don’t get to say that. You don’t get to tell me you love me. You’re not even capable of love.”
------------------------------------------------------------
Nineteen years, two divorces, six bullet wounds, and a promotion to captain later, he still thought about you when the whiskey cleared his mind of any denial. Leaving you was one of his biggest mistakes in life. He wondered what happened to you. He never saw you after you joined the SAS. Maybe you’re a lieutenant, or maybe you quit the military and became a housewife, even though he didn’t believe that. You were too happy in the military; no man who really loved you would take that away from you.
He had half a mind to call Laswell, tell her about you, and ask what you were up to. But deep down, he knew you were probably dead. War had its price, and it took the good ones way too often. So he was happy living like this, in his delusion that you’re alive and just the one who got away. If he was honest, even if you were still alive, he didn’t want to see you. He knew it would destroy him to see you again with his hate-filled eyes.
He got an incoming call from Kate. Did she really need to distract him from his swimming in self-pity?
“Kate, what do you need?”
“Are you ready for the games?” Huh, Kate always complained that this was childish and never showed big interest, even when they always winked. He didn’t mind the games; he knew how they motivated Soap and Gaz, or how much Ghost loved showing off his skills. He hated attention, but showing a bunch of task forces how much better they were was a thing not even Ghost couldn’t resist.
“Yes, why?”
“You know the new colleague I complained about?”
“The idiot who calls himself Hades?” What a dumb call sign.
“His team attends too, and if he wins, I’ll never hear the end of it.”
“What do I get if I sweep the floor with his team?”
“Davidoff Robusta, year 2016.”
“Deal.”
-----------------------------------------------------
You sat in the comfiness of your chair, finishing the last bits of paperwork from the last mission to finally end the day and go to the pub with your girls. When suddenly your phone rang, the name Hades popped up and you knew the comfortable day with your girls would be over. He would send you to a hostage rescue or gather intel. As long as it wasn’t a mission in the fucking Arctic again, it’s fine.
“Hello, Hades,” you said sweetly on the telephone. Despite the annoying missions he sends you on, Hades is your best friend. You could never trust anyone more than him. He saved your ass way too often to keep count on it.
“Sorry to bother you, do you know about the military games?” Of course, you knew, how couldn’t you? But you never bothered; that’s a childish thing. You better use your resources for the real thing and not a fight between self-proclaimed alpha males who will tell your team you are just girls.
“Yes, why?”
“I told you about Kate.”
“The one who called you incompetent in front of everyone, how could I forget that?”
“She always brags about how her team wins, please.”
“Hades, these games are stupid.”
“John Price takes part.”
“Why didn’t you tell me that earlier? Count us in.”
--------------------------------------------------------
Soap and Gaz bickered the whole day, while they put the tent up, while Ghost analyzed all the different teams, eagerly writing down every one of their strengths and weaknesses. While Price listened the whole day to Kate's complaints about Hades.
“None of them seem like a real threat, boss,” Ghost chimed proudly.
“Which of them is Hades' team?”
“He wanted to meet up here, act friendly, get to know their weaknesses, make them believe they’re superior.”
“What if they are really superior?” Gaz asked, earning a laugh from the whole team.
“We win every year, Garrick,” Soap replied.
“There he is.”
“Steamin’ Jesus, ye dinnae tell us they’re fuckin’ hot, Laswell.”
“An all-girls squad?”
“I didn’t know,” Kate replied to Ghost.
John turned around wanting to know what the whole fuss was over, noticing the four girls walking over to them. In front of the group was their confident captain, and when he looked at the way-too-familiar face, he wanted to fucking drown himself in the Atlantic Ocean. “Fuckin’ hell.”
Taglist: @riddikulus-obsessions @cod-z @undercover-smutlover @werschitz
A/N : The first chapter is a lot of explaining the next one will be more fun hehe
#cod#cod mw2#cod mwii#call of duty#cod x reader#tf 141#tf 141 x reader#captain john price#john price#captain price mw2#simon ghost riley#captain price#price#141#tf141#price x you#price x reader#price x y/n#kyle gaz garrick#john soap mactavish
233 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐑𝐎𝐘𝐀𝐋 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆, 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐀𝐋, 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐒.
All sentences on this meme have been taking from different media and sources. They all touch on the topics of romance, difficult and forbidden love, mostly setting in the political schemes of war and peace and royal court. Change names, locations and nouns and you see fit. Some lines might have foul language.
Sometimes we hurt the ones we love, but hurting ourselves to avoid it doesn’t make it better.
Could someone treat you badly and still love you?
Even so, in the midst of this complicated love, there is a holy union.
Love is complicated. It’s sticky. It’s bliss and it’s a mix of emotions. It’s not easy.
I hated him now because I has loved him then.
I'm not like you. I can't afford to be reckless.
When have I ever, since the first instant I touched you, pretended to be anything less than in love with you?
Are you so fucking self-absorbed as to think this is about you and whether or not I love you, rather than the fact I'm an heir to the fucking throne?
You at least have the option to not choose a public life eventually, but I will live and die in these palaces and in this family.
She wears a crown that never should’ve been hers.
Your wish is my command, my queen.
You can always leave my service.
Don’t you see, Diana? If I did that, I’d break not one but two hearts. For I know you love me, though you haven’t said it yet.
You do know me. I love you so much, it sometimes terrifies me.
You are going to regret that, Your Magical Regalness.
Just because I am a prince doesn’t make my life a fairy tale.
So kiss the others for all I care, but don’t hold back with me.
You are enough to drive a saint to madness or a king to his knees.
He didn't marry you to become king. He became king because he wanted to marry you.
I know I have but the body of a weak and feeble woman, but I have the heart and stomach of a king.
I believe we are what we make ourselves, and as such, you, Crown Princess, are nothing.
You, what are you? The brat of lucky parents who were related to a childless king.
Rule with the heart of a servant. Serve with the heart of a king.
There’s a fine line between gossip and history, when one is talking about kings.
You can't treat royalty like people with normal perverted desires.
We kings do develop a certain ability to recognize objects under our noses.
...alone is such a nebulous state when one is queen.
I respect you as my king, and I respect you as my father, but I do not respect you as a man.
You're the most important person I've ever met. And I should have never met you at all.
Desires are what can most easily ruin us, lovely.
I find that happiness can always be recollected in tranquillity, Ma’am.
It's almost impossible for those who have had an intimate relationship to return to a formal one.
I question if within you is any magic.
You’re my princess, right? You were always going to be my princess, no matter what you were born.
The king is a saint and cannot rule, and his son is a devil and should not.
For kings, the world is extremely simplified: All men are subjects.
A king deserves reverence when being addressed.
Yes, she had abused her title and station before, but for minor stuff, not to steal a warship.
You are a king worthy of their allegiance . . . with a queen full of fire and promise.
When God calls you into His Kingdom, your way of life will reflect royalty if you serve Him with loyalty.
My royal status is both a shield that protects me and a sword that impales my heart.
You know, for a pampered princess, you have a certain gift for violence.
I have to be seen to be believed.
Kings needn’t raise their voices to be heard.
That is your very own myth. The idea that how you are born or the name you are given dictate the sort of person you really are.
I know that names have power. That is why I cannot let her forget hers.
You’ll have to face it, Princess. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but soon enough. And you can’t be this scared when the time comes.
A bad king revels in his importance. A good one hates his office.
Crowns belong to those that serve.
She was their witch queen, and they adored her.
Beatrice is going to be queen someday.
Kings are only kings because one ancestor was quicker than another to place a crown on his own head.
Queen, do not allow a commoner to dethrone you. Own that throne. You are royalty.
A throne won in blood will soon be drenched in it.
My mother once told me that everything is fuelled by either money or sex, because both lead to power.
Even when she's dethroned by hardship, she still wears the sun as a crown.
She holds a nation’s fate within her shaking hands. She wears a crown that never should’ve been hers.
My reign has been anything but traditional. Let’s not start now, shall we?
Oh honey, someday a real man is going to make you see stars and you won't even be looking at the sky.
Every girl thinks about growing up in a palace. Few ever ponder living in a cage.
Climb up the family tree of any of them high enough and you’ll find a commoner who dared to take a chance.
Am I forbidden to do what all may do?
My arrival saved the kingdom, while his only reiterated that his blood would fill the throne one day.
Slow down there, princess. How do you know what kind of first impression you gave me?
So none of the young men we encountered during our season gave you hot pants for them?
If stubborness were all that was needed to be a good queen, I'd rule the world.
I’d decided that I was going to stop dressing like a princess and start dressing like a queen.
Don’t touch me. Don’t tell me how beautiful my eyes are, how soft my hair is, how you love to hear my voice. Don’t. Don’t pretend you are falling in love with me.
I know you are lying, and every word you say hurts even more.
Before the wedding, and the bedding, when I will have to take you as my lord and husband?
I may not be a king or a queen, but I'll be damned if I'm not treated like royalty.
He is fragile, like a prince of ice, of glass.
It is natural that men are going to gather round me, hoping for a smile.
Men only treat women like princesses when they want to use them like prostitutes.
You can smile when your heart is breaking because you're a woman.
I can't sleep, I can't eat, I can't do anything but think about him.
Anyone can attract a man. The trick is to keep him.
To save my son, I would plot with the devil himself.
Only fools wait when their enemies are coming, to see if they may prove to be friends.
When a man wants a mystery, it is generally better to leave him mystified. Nobody loves a clever woman.
I wanted the heat and the sweat and the passion of a man that I could love and trust.
I am a fool to own it, but I am in a fever for your touch.
And you are the sort of mistress a man doesn't bother to marry. Sons or no sons.
#roleplay memes#sentence meme#( cali meme. )#rp memes#rp prompt#rp musings#roleplay prompt#political scheme#royal schemes#royal betrayal#romantic heartbreak
298 notes
·
View notes