#for god knows how long but with the way my health is...I cannot do this by myself. at least not for the immediate future.

[our-lady-of-mcr]

everytime i think im done ranting i remember something else LMFAO this one is extra long i hit tag limit god mf damn

[musical-chick-13]

Anyone else out here feeling disconnected from their own humanity.

[sol-flo]

i'm going to destroy this damn phone

- the boss avoider

[codename-adler]

i’m so scared shitless the way aftg fandom is reacting towards nora sakavic and TSC leads to her just… abandoning the project and not publishing anything ever again. why so much vehement hate and rage? why are you still here if you cannot tolerate her or her writing?

mistakes were made in canon aftg. not everything is perfect, not everything is greatly represented. so? it’s been ten years. was the author intentionally insensitive? intentionally hurtful? no. and that’s what matters. she’s been gone for god knows how long, because social media has been bad, and she’s right. good for her.

but some of you are already burning her at the stake before anything has come out. some of you have been spitting on her and her work for years. can’t a person grow up? can’t a person change? can’t an author change and do better?

nora sakavic is out there on twitter x defending palestine. i think that’s much more impactful and meaningful than some much more influential celebrities. and i think it’s very telling on her as a person.

i believe in her. i admire her, and respect her, and appreciate her. the same goes for her work. i wouldn’t be here without her and aftg, and i can never deny that, turn my back on that, forget that, and why would i even want to?

it’s not bad authorship. it’s not bad writing. it’s not bad media. it’s a story about fucked up people for fucked up people. nothing about that is going to be smooth or polished nor palatable to and approved by all. it shouldn’t be.

listen, i’ve got my own disagreements with some things in canon and EC. and? they’re just that. personal disagreement. i’ve got no right to tell an author that her writing and ideas are shit when they have consumed me every waking day, have boosted my creativity, my writing, helped me make long-lasting friends.

nora sakavic isn’t a poor fragile thing by any means, but she has spoken about social media not being good for her mental health. she has told us. we know. we know she sees our stuff. we know our stuff affects her. it’s not hard to get.

i’m not telling anyone to let go of their opinions and negative emotions. i’m saying that respect must prevail. that’s all.

[honeygrahambitch]

"Even Will Graham has a better sex life than I do." Jimmy said, as if he had been holding that sentence inside for too long.

Beverly and Brian abandoned the blood samples they were working on and looked at him in disbelief as if they were trying to make sure they got it right.

"One question would be how do you know that?" Brian asked. "I doubt Will is the type to talk about stuff like that."

"That's easy, haven't you seen Hannibal?" Beverly asked rolling her eyes.

"I am not particularly into men."

"You don't have to be in order to tell that someone must excel in bed. It's the attitude."

"Stop that." Jimmy interrupted their banter. "I overheard a discussion between the two of them."

"Do we really need to know?" Brian said as he looked at Beverly for support. However, her opinion was different.

"Share."

"Alright but this doesn't leave the lab. It stays between us." Jimmy said. After all, Will was his friend and he didn't have anything against Hannibal. He was usually not the one to gossip but this felt like something that needed to be debated. "They are having a threesome."

"No way." Beverly said as she elbowed Brian who remained dumb.

"Who's the lucky lady?" Brian asked.

"Why did you immediately assume it's a lady?"

"For more diversity? I don't know how these things work?"

"Can you shut up and listen?" Jimmy cut them off. "I overheard Will asking Hannibal whether their plans for the night have changed. Hannibal had said that they did not and then pulled out this business card and handed it to Will. Will was like- a sport trainer? He will be a handful."

"I told you it's a man!" Beverly told Brian then turned back to Jimmy. "That doesn't prove anything though."

"Maybe if you two listened I could get to the point. So, Will said that and Hannibal was amused and said "I am confident we can handle him. Cannot be worse than the one last week. I was not proud of the way we left his bedroom"."

"Shut up..." Brian whispered. Beverly didn't say anything, her lips parted in disbelief. "And then?"

"Then Will said...damn, I hate that I have to repeat his words but he said..."He was bigger than either of us expected. I mean, for a finance guy, he was quite a challenge. My back still hurts."" Jimmy went on. "And Hannibal was like "the one we are having tonight will definitely be in good shape. I will be there, I am not letting him touch you.""

"Christ." Beverly said. "And?"

"And Will said "As if I need you to take care of me. Remember how the one from two weeks ago surprised you from behind? You were lucky I was there." Then they noticed me because of the stupid coffee machine who started beeping. And I swear to God, their surprised expressions indicated exactly the fact that I was not supposed to hear that."

"Wow." Brian said thoughtfully. "Every week. Good for them. That's how you keep things interesting in a relationship."

"I wouldn't have believed Hannibal would share Will with anyone." Beverly commented.

"Will might have a say in that?" Jimmy suggested. "Anyway, I couldn't believe it. I was afraid I took things out of context maybe?"

"Definitely not." Beverly said. "What else could they have been talking about?"

***

"Do you think Jimmy overhead us earlier?" Will said as he looked for their knives in the trunk of the car.

"I doubt it. It doesn't prove anything. We were quite subtle." Hannibal replied as he put his scalpel in his left pocket. "Ready? He must be home by now."

"Let's go. I don't want to spend the whole night butchering this guy. By the way, what did he do?"

"Insinuated I do not take my physical health seriously."

"He just hasn't seen what's underneath that suit." Will replied, making Hannibal smile.

[alicanta77]

NCT Dream Reaction: Collab with their idol!s/o

Mark:

this would probably be his dream

he is so busy all the time

and he knows his schedule isn't going to calm down anytime soon

so at least this way he can get his work done

and spend time with you as well

and he got even more excited when he found out it was just the two of you and your groups weren't going to be involved

now he gets you all to himself

just him and his favourite girl

would treasure every single second that he gets to be with you and work with you

loves watching you work and just finds you such an inspiration

every now and then just stops for a second and goes

"dang... that's my girl..."

he's just in awe of you 24/7

you truly are a goddess to him

Renjun:

would become a complete and utter cutie patootie

literally melted when he heard that your group was doing a collab with nct dream

like actually shrunk down in his chair and smiled so widely

you got to sing the most beautiful duet together

and the harmonies made hairs rise on his arms everytime he heard you sing them

would definitely plan to sing this song when he finally gets to marry you

this whole experience would just melt renjun right down to his core

would be so so SO excited for the fans to see it too

like he's play it non-stop and enjoy every second of the promo that you two got to do for it

seeing him and you have so much fun brought loads of positive attention from fans as well

and renjun couldn't believe his luck that he got to do this with you by his side

Jeno:

the most supportive boyfriend ever

would just be smiling all the time

like you're doing a darker and twisted concept

but jeno is watching you in the corner like (.◜ ᵕ ◝)

everything you do is like it is the most incredible thing on the planet

definitely finds you taking work seriously incredibly hot

wants to practice the dance as much as possible

and is constantly offering suggestions that would make the two of you be dancing closer to each other

"maybe i should grab her hip here and guide her through the turn"

"jeno you haven't let go of her once this entire routine"

"so?"

would love to hear your input as well and probably thinks your ideas are all brilliant

he just thinks that you're brilliant

Donghyuck:

he would want to be involved in the whole process

from the very first step with writing it all the way through and he wanted you to be just as involved as him

he loves having a project that he can put his whole heart into

and you are his whole heart so working on this with you would be a dream come true

this would definitely be the project he was most proud of

would love that the two of you could be honest with each other about how the project was going

he would listen to you with such attentiveness and would truly value everything you had to say

hyuck holds your opinion to the highest standard

like no one else's opinion matters to him more than yours

so he would take your views on this so seriously

and would make sure you knew your voice was heard

he was always ready to fight your corner

Jaemin:

when he got told your groups were doing a collab together he could barely hold back the grin that stretched out across his face

it became his mission to make this time you had together the best practices of your lives

he would bring in a homemade lunch for the two of you

and managed to turn that half an hour break into a date

he would be cheering obnoxiously loudly from the side of the practice room while you danced

he would bring you water to the recording studio

if there's one thing jaemin will always be it's a romantic

having him around would keep you on top of your health as well

there would be no skipping meals and your vitamins would be taken at exactly the right time

jaemin saw to that

as long as you had him around he would never let anything bad happen to you

Chenle:

oh my god he would have campaigned for this to happen for SO LONG

like i cannot put this into words

essentially for the past year every day chenle would ask to do a collab with you

it got to the point where the company gave him the collab just so that he would shut up

literally will talk about it non stop as well

even to you like he's just bouncing off the walls he's so exicted

the first time he sang your pair ballad with you he nearly cried

though he'd never openly admit it

he wasn't sure why it got to him but he just got so overwhelmed with his love for you

tried his hardest to get it together for your first live broadcast

but you were dressed so beautifully and you sang like an angel an he just couldn't believe that you had chosen him

it was hard not to be emotional when he's gotten blessed with you by his side

and he vowed to spend the rest of his life making you feel as loved as you made him feel

Jisung:

would probably be a bit nervous

like he knows you are an idol as well but you haven't worked together before

he doesn't want conflict to arise from this

but he is also really excited

is hoping for it to be centred around dance

purely just because he wants to impress you

is a little nervous when it's revealed to be vocal and dance because he thinks you're a better vocalist than him

but you make sure he knows he has a beautiful voice to listen to

you are such a point of comfort for jisung

if he's ever feeling down or insecure all he needs is to hold onto you and feel you stroke his hair and it's like everything's okay again

doing this collab with you was such a confidence boost that jisung wasn't expecting

you brought out the best side of him no matter what you were doing

and jisung knew nobody could love the way you two loved each other

[somethingstrangeishere]

TW: leprosy

Baldwin IV with his mommy 🥺

She tries to cheer up her precious boy by doing something sweet for him.

"No, my dear, those bandages don't make you any worse! Please stop putting yourself down for how you look...Look, I made a bow for you! You're cute. I love you, Baldwin."

***

I don't know if you've ever had similar thoughts...I just felt like speaking up. Honestly, it's very hard to put my thoughts and convey what I'm feeling (I'm not a writer and also not a native English speaker), and to be completely honest, as I think about it, my heart hurts and my eyes water. So if you read this - thank you, and sorry for taking up your time. If not - well, I've eased my soul one way or another by speaking out.

***

My heart melts at the thought of a warm, understanding and trusting relationship between parents and children, and I also love the dynamics of family relationships. In this context, mother/son. I don't know, and no one knows anymore, about the relationship Baldwin had with his mother, whether they were close, but I'm not relying on historical reference, but on my interpretation and feelings.

For a good loving mother, her child is the best, the most precious, the most loved and desired. But life does not always turn to you and your child in a good way. Some people are unlucky - whether you are a king or a peasant, a sinner or a saint - fate does not care.

How does a mother feel when her son is mortally ill? Put yourself in her shoes. Just try it.

***

You hold your newborn baby in your arms. Here it is, your little bundle of joy, so tiny, so adorable... You want to give him all the best, now your whole world is him, your little angel!

Your son is growing up, taking his first steps, saying his first words. You dream about his future, you love him so much...

Time passes, you live in love and care for him. And you hope that it will always be like this - or as long as possible...

...Now forget about it.

Suddenly you are hit with devastating news - your son has leprosy. It knocks you off your feet, it chokes you, it tramples you into the ground, tears your heart to pieces. At that moment, as soon as you find out, you see nothing in front of you and hear nothing. Your mind is empty, and there is only one thought of your son, your treasure. Doomed, cursed. If there really is a God, why did he let this happen? Why your child? They say leprosy is a curse from God. Why curse an innocent child?!

Pain, despair, anguish. You want to weep, You want to grab your son, hold him close and never let go. You realise he's doomed. But he doesn't realise it yet.

As time goes on, his health gets worse. Your baby does not understand what is happening to him - he is scared, he is confused, he is waiting for your support and comfort. You smile at him, you give him everything you can - but inside your heart is pounding and tearing as if it were breaking your ribs. Every night you're choked with tears. Your son is your flesh and blood, you gave him life, you brought him into this world, you condemned him to this existence...

Time passes, you do your best, but it seems as if God himself has turned away from you. You pray to all the saints, you beg the Virgin Mary - she is a mother too, she must hear, she cannot fail to understand! But nothing changes.

Your son is growing up, and every year his condition gets worse. His skin is covered with leprosy spots. His eyesight is getting worse. He's always tired, he can't live without the help of doctors and medicines. He's rotting alive. People look askance. People judge. People see a monster. All you see is your angel. Every day you swear to love and care for him, swear you won't leave him...

***

A young 16 years old boy wins a battle. How proud you are of him! How weak his body is, but how strong his spirit. But he too has his moments of vulnerability...

...Especially when he fully realises he doesn't have long to live. He seems to accept it - or pretend to accept it...

How do you feel?

How a mother might feel when she realises that she may see her son die? Bury the one she brought into this world. To live to see that moment is something she doesn't want to do.

Thank you if you read to the end! I'm crying right now😭

[celenawrites]

₊˚ෆ soulmate au, wherein you get to see the world through your soulmate's eyes and experience what they're feeling at that moment

awful editing(no beta), a lot of pov shifts, loads of grammar mistakes, description of violence, smut below the cut. 

just an idea i have been marinating in my drafts this month. 

MDNI.

the first time Simon Riley realizes he has a soulmate, he's 24 and well on his way to becoming a lieutenant. it's an early winter morning, filled with white fog and chilly breeze that seeps through the balaclava he wears while off duty. he's in the cold, congested room that has been assigned as his office and he's trying to catch up on the stack of paperwork that had accumulated while he was risking his lives on the front-line just to feel something.

the scene shifts with a few gradual blinks and he realizes he's not in his office anymore.

he's she's standing in the kitchen, brewing up a cup of tea while humming an old melody. he's awfully out of place here, and he almost thinks his mind is tricking him with a sudden daydream and then she pours out the tea into a green mug, and exits the kitchen - finally sitting down in what he assumes to be a living room.

she turns on the tv to watch some melodrama he doesn't know, as she carefully blows onto the mug to cool down the steaming liquid before carefully taking a sip. he feels the green tea trickle down his throat, warming him from inside. he can feel the cushion behind her back and the glasses that rest on the bridge of her nose. he can feel the tag on her shirt scratch the nape of his nick uncomfortably so.

the scene is serene and unfamiliar and he feels out of place - it is homely and clean and pure, not tainted with blood, violence and avarice. it is uncomfortable for him to watch her be good and domestic and kind, almost feels like he doesn’t deserve it after the life he’s led. and yet, with time, seeing the world through her eyes is warmly welcomed after a dud of a day doing what he's best known for - being a ghost.

and he almost feels sorry for her, whoever she is. he’s sorry for the man he is, for the soldier he is. he’s sorry that she gets a one-way front ticket to seeing him kill people without remorse. 

most of all, he’s sorry she had to end up with him. 

for you, seeing the world through your soulmate's eyes has been nothing short of a grim nightmare. every time you'd shift, you'd almost pray to God and cross your fingers to avoid seeing any of the gruesome scenes that he encountered almost on the daily. you cannot see his face, but you can feel how heavy the protective gear is against his body, how taut his shoulders are and you can feel the synthetic fabric of the gun strap dig into his shoulders and chest. you feel his hands touch the steel barrel of the weapon and your blood runs cold. it’s not long before he’s aiming the said gun at a man before shooting him dead without hesitating. the first time you witnessed him doing something this abhorrent, you ended up having a panic attack - still able to feel the weight of the gun in your hands, convinced that you’re the culprit who shot someone in cold blood. 

it’s not long before the scenes you witness through your soulmate’s eyes follow you even in your sleep. you’re taking melatonin, chamomile tea, antidepressants - anything to help you cope with the fact that having a soulmate like him means being haunted by gruesome visions for the rest of your life. it’s not long before your co-workers comment on your baggy eyes and frail health - even uniting together to urge you that taking a break would probably do you some good, but you turn them all down with a gentle shake of your head. 

and then, you meet Soap through him. scottish, demolition expert, part of the military. wild mohawk, likes to draw, always the victim of your soulmate’s dry jokes. Gaz - british, a sergeant, youngest of the lot, always willing to help, but has enough snark to keep up with Soap about the most ridiculous of things. and Price - captain of his team, with impressive mutton chops and loud sneezes. 

you see them relax around each other, see them drink tea, see Soap and Gaz banter and compete with each other at the training grounds - and this change of pace is far more welcomed than seeing people die on the battlefield. 

and then there’s him, a pariah. everyone he comes across calls him ‘Ghost’, which just sounds ridiculous. no one knows anything about him, but there are moments when you are where he is and you see Price’s eyes twinkle with something - but your lack of physical presence always hinders your curiosity about the subject. no one has really seen his face, and you fear that you’d never get to know the man who’s destined to compliment you in all aspects of life. 

there are moments though, when sharing vision and emotions with you, gets awfully overwhelming for him. it takes a lot to get a man of his stature to waver in his step, but you do that job perfectly. he sees you one day, in your bed with soft satin sheets failing to cover your body. he sees your hands trail down your body and his breath hitched when he feels you play with your cotton panties - before sliding them to the side and rubbing soft circles on your clit. he swears under his breath, trying to hold onto his sanity as it slowly slips away from him when you use your other hand to tease your nipples with skittish touches. it’s not long before Simon has locked himself up in the bathroom stall, using his hands to relieve the tension he has all because of you - matching his rhythm so that he comes at the same time as you. 

he wonders if your hands would feel softer. if you’d kiss him before begging him with those doe eyes to make you feel good. if you’d tell him that you love him. if you’d love him enough so that he can be anew  - without his past dragging him through the mud. 

if you’d lose yourself to him and let him piece you back together with the adoration he carries for you. you’re practically a stranger, and yet you’re the only person who can get to him. 

divider by @/cafekitsune

[divinehedons]

i won't hurt you.

navigation: masterlist

word count: ~1.9k words

summary: you meet joel in the aftermath of a terrible accident. reeling from the aftermath of the event, there is a looming shadow that complicates your relationship with the southern man you just somehow happened to meet 

warnings: explicit (but not graphic) content–MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! relatively dark(?)-ish joel miller, allusions to smut (not heavily detailed), graphic depictions of injury, some scenes include hospitalization (not in graphic detail), dubious consent, joel miller radiates mansplain / manipulate / malewife energy, men are trash in general wbk

note: oh. my. god. it has been far too long and i’m so so very sorry for just now coming back! i’ve hit a terrible writer’s block alongside very bad mental health and i’m just now recovering :’D thank you so so so much for 800 followers, it’s going to take a while for me to respond to everyone but i’ll be going through them! i love you very very dearly, mwah!

note 2.0: pls pls lower your expectations, 🫣 i am trying to get back into the groove of things!

You remember the screech of tires on frozen asphalt. A flash of headlights. Spinning, spinning, spinning. Your body ignited in pain. Then… darkness.

Darkness that seemed to spread before you for an eternity. Untethered and stuck in limbo, perhaps in another universe, you would call it the most peaceful slumber of your life. The misfortune comes when you wake. Lightning strikes shake you awake from the darkness of your subconsciousness. Electricity trembling in your chest as it shoots through your beaten frame. A light peers through your closed eyes. Brighter, and brighter… bigger and bigger. A ringing in your ears that almost deafens you.

The world shifts around you, and you wake paralyzed, staring at the ceiling in the warm sun that falls on your body lying there. Everything hurts. There is a humming in your head that you cannot seem to shake out of.

The solitude lasts for a beat. Then another. That’s when you see him.

A sleepless, roughened man looking at you with his warm eyes. Through the bleary vision of your own gaze, a shaky breath escapes him. His crinkled eyes looking over your features with a swift once over.

“Oh, Christ, you’re awake.”

And that’s how you met Joel.

–

In the week that followed your complicated recovery, Joel tells you he saw the crash. Tells you the asshole who ran you over was nowhere to be seen. He says most of it with his eyes averted. Yet you hold your gaze.

You will not be weakened by the shame of your misery.

It is two days later when you confess to him; your throat still rasping as the pain in your head boils and toils beneath your skull. You look at him when he arrives, paint-stained shirt providing evidence of a messy day of working. “I don’t want to think about what happened to me anymore, Joel.”

Your tongue grabs at words the way young children do with sticky fruit in the summer. As if language has become foreign to you.

Joel, keys in hand, meets your gaze with a furrowed brow. “Sure, sugar. Whatever you need.”

Maybe your eyes were tricking you, but you could’ve sworn you saw his shoulders relax from some kind of tension leaving his body.

–

Joel doesn’t know what he had gotten himself into. What he does know is that for some reason, he couldn’t bear the idea of staying away from you. You tell him fragments of what little you remember, your concussed consciousness blindly clawing at every last bit of beaten brain matter for some kind of answer. 

You sometimes cry from the effort it takes you to think, but he’s there. The first few times, he held your hand. As the hours bled into days, he held you as you wet his shirt with warm tears. Sometimes, when the nightmares reach him in his own bed a few miles out from the hospital, it feels like you’re bleeding into him.

From the moment he saw you, he had been marked. And no matter how many times he scratched at his own skin, he could never wash away the blood on his hands.

–

He’s the one to take you home to your quiet little apartment, having grown dust in your absence. You apologize, he waves you off. He watches you as you peer out of the window, comprehending a view that had once been so mundane, transformed into some shred of a miracle for you to still be there, witnessing it all. He’s behind you, ten feet away, tilting his head as your hair catches what little sunlight blessed you the day you left the hospital.

He says your name, and you look back at him with a curious smile. “My God,” he followed. “You look just like starlight.” He steps forward, and that’s when you know everything had fallen into place. Without another moment lapsing, he takes your face into his hands, pulling you into a searing kiss.

You apologize so many times. For the hospital smell on your skin. For your trembling knees. For the dizzying sensation of human contact without the involvement of medical processes. For feeling so unclean.

Meanwhile, he apologizes, too. For kissing you. For pulling you to him. For holding you. For carrying you to the forlorn couch grown cold from the absence of human warmth. So many times that there are times that you don’t know what is there to apologize for. You shake your head each and every time.

The tears roll down your cheek just as he pulls away and his eyes immediately soften. You shake your head, pulling him into another kiss as you whine.

There are many things you want to tell him. But you don’t dare tell him this: Sometimes being offered tenderness feels like the very proof that you have been ruined.

“Tell me to stop, honey, and I will,” he murmurs, holding your cheek as you pause between touches. You shake your head immediately. You want many things. You are hungry and untamed. But you do not want him to stop.

You tell him as much. “Joel, don’t you dare stop.”

And he doesn’t. Not when you’re naked and he sees your bruised skin, purple and yellowed in places. He looks to you just as your body tenses. His demeanor softens, kissing along your jaw and your neck with a shaky breath.

“I won’t hurt ya, darlin’.”

He keeps to that promise. Even when your legs are around his waist and he’s caught in your warmth. He says it again and again as you whine into the cool, quiet solitude of your home.

I won’t hurt you, I won’t hurt you.

–

Falling in love with Joel was both so complicated and so simple at once. Whenever you wake beside him, you wake up writhing from the pain of your injuries; sometimes crying from the nightmares that followed every waking moment. You felt marred by shame for putting so much of your perceived burden on his shoulders. He never departs from your side, his strong arms placating you while his lips press against your temple.

It’s all so simple, the way he cares about you. And whether or not you admitted it, you like the feeling of being cared for. Of having someone that cares.

Regardless, you cannot escape the fact that someone did this to you. And whenever the pain shocks your body, everything but rabid rage escapes your body. You curse the stranger, whoever they may be, for that cursed night.

Joel sees glimpses of this. He saw it most that one afternoon when the hospital called, saying you had been taken care of. By who, they didn’t say. Only that the stranger apologized for what happened.

You were on the floor, hands trembling in the fists you held them in. The hospital bill crumpled a few inches away. You do not see him. What you see is all red.

A wail escapes your trembling mouth just as your hands claw at anything they can touch. It is an uncontrollable surge of blinding, mouth-foaming, unbridled rage. He’s there, trying to hold you down before you hurt yourself. Each wail pierces another hole into his aching heart. Each struggle followed by his gentle shushing, trying to assuage you in the crest of your emotion.

“Whoever it was,” you told him then as you sobbed. “They ruined my life.”

“Darlin, darlin’...” He breathes in, cupping your face. “Maybe he’s around and he regrets-”

“No!” You claw at him, just as he holds you tighter against his chest. “If he could find me, then he could say it to my face. He wouldn’t be some coward who left me alone like this after he ruined my life!”

It destroys him. And you can see it in his face. All he can do is hold you as you cry against his chest. All he can do is shut his eyes, letting the waves of grief crest over and over your frame. Letting your sobs tear him open and burn him out.

He tells you nothing lasts forever. That he’ll be there for as close to forever as possible. You shake your head because you know better. He says nothing lasts forever. He doesn’t know he’s just afraid your pain can last longer than he is capable of loving you.

–

Perhaps, to the end of his days, Joel will regret that drunken night. He’ll regret following his bleary gaze through the quiet, sleet-slick roads. He’ll regret the fact that he couldn’t have stopped his truck sooner.

When he steps out into the cold just as he smells the acrid scent of burning tires, he sees your bloodied face in your car. So small. So undeserving. He muttered a string of cusses. The sudden shock of adrenaline washing away the last of his drunkenness. He looks back at his truck, horrifically beaten, his gaze doubling from his last bout of drunkenness.

He bargains that night. Calls up someone high up amongst the police rank to bail him out. He negotiated for ten minutes. Then he hides the truck somewhere off the side of the road for him to come back to and dispose of. And then, only then, did he call for help.

Only then did he reach you in the driver’s seat, blood now caked to your skin as he lay you out amongst the concrete.

You make some sound, and he cusses to himself.

His rough palms cup your cheek, trying to get you to look at him then. But you were too far gone.

He spoke, anyway. Just in case you’ll hear it.

“It’s alright, doll. I won’t hurt you.”

Even now, weeks after he stole your life from you, he holds you and tells you the same thing anyway. The same set of words that manage to calm you down.

He does love you. And it breaks him every day to know he was the one to endanger you.

I won’t hurt you, I won’t hurt you.

[fleetingcalypso]

I saw you write for Henry Winter, and since seldom someone here does actually write about him I'd love to send you an idea, if you're comfortable with it of course<3

Since I'm on my period and my cramps are so painful I physically cannot stand them, I was wondering about how Henry would react if his s/o was sick and forced to stay in their bed because of their cramps. Maybe he'd take care of them because he understands how it feels to be in so much pain you're incapacitated?

≋ I hope your pain can soon be alleviated, my friend, I'l pray for you to be in good health. For the meantime, I reccomend sweet treats, warm beverages and if needed do not be afraid to benefit from modern day medicine.

≋ Henry Winter x AFAB!Reader ≋

≋ Word Count: 535 words.

≋ CW: Reader is AFAB and suffers from period pains, but it can be read as GN!Reader for there are no feminine pronouns included.

Each month that goes by, without fail, I am reminded of the curse that an apparently caring and forgiving God cast upon Eve. A cycle of agony is what welcomes me every twenty-eight days: bones aching, muscles sore and head throbbing.  Even my divine savior cannot lift this burden off my shoulder, all he can do is sit by my side in his bed as my body writhes and suffers. “You could have told me,” He scolds me, “I wouldn’t have asked you to come.” And now he twists the knife. Doesn’t he realize? If I have to suffer I want it to be with him stroking my lower back, I want it to be with him pushing my face in the crook of his neck, I want it with him handling me as though I am a first edition book in his collection. 

“Do you need anything?” What kindness there is, hidden behind his cold tone. I can feel it as it envelops me and does what little it can to make the pain in my lower stomach fade. “I can make you tea, if you’d like.”

My head shakes in a silent denial. I wish I could tell him, it kills me that all I can do is burrow myself in his bedsheets, breathe in his cologne and hope this damnation comes soon to an end. 

He scoffs. It’s not of annoyance, not towards me at the very least, I know that. I know it because his fingers push strands of my hair away from my face with a gentleness I rarely felt in my life, his thumb rests on my bottom lip and even with my eyes closed I can feel his gaze penetrating through my core and inhabiting my very soul.

The bed shifts under his weight when he lays down, my body finds its rightful spot right between his arms. My life before I met him feels like purgatory, a mindless wandering about life, meaningless until fate brought him to me. 

“Thank you.” I attempt to express my gratitude in what little voice I have, even thinking about speaking feels like a dagger cutting through my flesh. He shushes me. His lips have deemed me worthy of their protection, I feel it when he kisses my forehead.

Outside of this corner of heaven, in the real world, I can hear a dog barking and birds chirping. Henry makes a comment that barely reaches my ears, something about shutting that dog up. I’m not too sure, because before I can comprehend just how tired I am, Henry’s scent is somniferous to me: combined with the warm hand rubbing my aching invisible wounds, the intoxicating fragrance of cigarettes, whiskey, sandalwood and roses makes its way into my lungs.

There is no lullaby, no sweet song to drag me into rest. All it takes is His presence, my dearest deity. He holds me in his sacred heaven, allows me to feel safe after having held up my walls for so long I forgot what the horizon looked like. I pray to him in my sleep. And by the way his arms tighten around me, I can only assume he is welcoming my prayer.

[nyancrimew]

fucked up sorta intoxicated long vent

cw: uuh mental health, drugs, suicide mentions, very much is just an existential crisis put into post form

this is not a suicide note or anything, im about to go cuddle up with my wife and go to sleep i just had to get my fucked up thoughts out, i might delete this tomorrow

meaning

it's so hard to find meaning in life anymore. i live for those around me, for those i love, those who love me back. yet i keep hurting them, everything keeps falling apart. i live out of spite, i cant let authority win. yet im slowly giving up my cause. i live to prove a point. ive long forgotten what point it even is anymore.

there hasnt really been any new compelling reason to keep going in over 10 years now. i honestly wonder how much it even really takes anymore to drive me to suicide. it can't be that much, im already always living on edge.

i just barely know who i even am anymore, ive largely forgotten the first 20 years of my life, and the last 3 are mostly just fog as well. forced to live in the moment, carrying all the baggage of all the previous moments i dont even have memories of anymore.

how are people just like able to keep living, regularly finding joy. how are people able to deal with bad times without immediately pondering all the ways in which they could kill themselves in?

god i need therapy so fucking bad. i keep dragging down everyone around me. how can i fix all the damage ive done, a sorry won't do. how can i fix all the damage done to me, no sorry will ever do.

why are the only options to just keep going, ignoring all the pain, or ending it all forever. where is the restart button, where can i reset, rewind, apply what ive learned to the situations where i fucked up. how do i go back and undo all the trauma. the trauma i experienced myself and the trauma i put on others.

we're all just lost children in a world not made for us. where is our world. where is the place in which we can find solace. your arms make me feel safe, and at home. but i know you feel the same way i do.

it pains me to know we're in this together, god if only i could bear your pain, if only i could bear everyone elses pain. it hurts me to know you feel this way too. no one should have to know how this feels. i wanna take on all the pain in this world so i can leave and turn the world around.

am i just failing at being a part of this society or is society failing me. i am like one bureaucratic fuck up away from dying alone on the street with no roof over my head. i cannot be self dependent, why does this society fully expect such a thing of me.

is this all worth it for the few moments of bliss, for sparing the people around me from the pain of losing me. would the pain of losing me be greater than the pain i cause every day?

i am lost. i dont know anymore. fuck i need therapy. or just anything that can fix me. the drugs certainly haven't yet, but at least i also have dependency to fight with now i guess.

yea fuck man idk

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

I realise you're HE, but any thoughts on how high school level education should be run/changed/etc? I'd love to know your views!

Oh sure, plenty, but they're not particularly informed lol

Well; Wales is actually massively and fundamentally changing secondary education atm, but we won't be getting students from it until the year after next, I think, so no real comment on effectiveness yet - but it's very interesting. They're getting rid of isolated subjects in favour of broad umbrella areas, as I understand it? So there's now Science and Technology (Physics, Biology, Chemistry, Computing, and all the various DT subjects like Woodwork, Electronics, Cookery, etc), Maths and Numeracy, Humanities (History, Geography, Ethics, Religion), Languages Literacy and Communication, and Health and Wellbeing (actually maybe Cookery comes under this one now? Dunno.) And there's a sixth to do with arts but I can't remember what it's called. But it includes Art, Drama, Media Studies, etc.

And then the idea is that a class will learn about a given topic at a time (I don't know for how long, so let's say six weeks), and this will be taught in each of those six umbrellas but via their own methods. So like... I dunno, let's say the Tudors:

That's fairly straightforward for Humanities, but in addition to giving you the historical facts you'd also explore historic trade routes and natural resources of the time and how they related to the politics (geography), the religious make up of the country and how THAT related to the politics (religion), etc.

Maths and Numeracy might explore how to use statistics to analyse Tudor era population or trade data.

Science and Tech could look at disease outbreaks and virology, or technological advancements and how they worked and get students to build one, or get students to construct a Tudor-era town using computer software

Languages can study plays from the era (Shakespeare), look at linguistic development, or use historical events as talking points to practice using vocab in conversations

Health and Wellbeing can explore stressors and challenges of the average Medieval peasant and how they overcame them, or play some popular Tudor sport or game, or make food to Tudor recipes, etc

The Arts one (god I cannot remember the name) can look at art history of the period, fashions, perform plays, etc

So everyone is still teaching the skills and knowledge of their subject areas, they're just united by one big case study. It apparently allows for far more integrated teaching, too, where two previously discrete subjects can join forces on a project.

All of which seems pretty good, on the whole, but also rife with issues if everyone isn't careful, so we'll see how it shakes out over the next few years.

From my own experiences of school though. Jesus. Something definitely needed to happen, fuck me.

What I should have learned in Textiles:

How to use a sewing machine

How to sew by hand to mend a tear

How to darn a hole

How to hem, dart, take in, and let out clothes

How to sew from a pattern

What I actually learned in Textiles:

How to use a sewing machine on its most basic setting

How to phone in creating a hand puppet out of felt because gluing was easier than sewing

How to badly sew an extremely makeshift and shit bag out of scrap fabric that you in no way want to then use

How to lose all interest in Textiles because it was useless and uninteresting

Like that is a VITAL skillset-imparting subject, and they fucked it, lads, they completely fucked it. Why did they never set us the task of buying a cheap shirt from a charity shop that we then amended in class? That would have been so useful.

Games and PE! Fucking hell! Here's what I should have learned:

How to stretch my body safely to target specific muscle groups, and in particular, how to cultivate a daily stretching routine I enjoyed and wanted to do

How to find a physical activity active enough to get me out of breath that I genuinely enjoyed, so that I wanted to continue it, e.g. salsa dancing or rope climbing or ice skating or hill climbing or assault courses or fucking anything at all

How to build my body up to doing particular activities safely and sustainably

How to find a physical activity to do on wet, cold, rainy days that would still be fun and I would still enjoy

Here's what I actually learned:

Physical activity is always uncomfortable and miserable and sometimes even painful

If you aren't enjoying running around in the wind and rain instead of the indoor gym The Problem Is You. Start Enjoying It.

Wanting to stay warm and dry and comfortable is a punishable choice.

You are only permitted to do physical activity in clothes that make you feel profoundly exposed and uncomfortable (a gym skirt and gym knickers in my school. Cycling shorts got you detention. Don't get me started on jogging bottoms.) Again, if you do not enjoy this, The Problem Is You. Start Enjoying It.

There are only three activity options. If you don't enjoy any of them, physical activity is not for you.

You should be able to Just Do physical exercise, without any training to build you up to it. If you can't and it hurts, this is because you're Bad At PE.

You will only be shown Once

Physical activity is only ever a team sport that you aren't good enough to be willingly picked for

LIKE WHAT THE FUCK

And you know what, LET'S round off with Food Technology/Cookery. Because I remember the things I was asked to make in FT. As a little baby Year 7, I still vividly remember two of the things we made.

Angel Delight. Easy, you might say! A simple treat, you might think! Easing the children into food prep, I hear you cry! But no, because the theme of the year was healthy eating, and so we were to add fruit to our Angel Delight. Any flavour Angel Delight, any fruit. Off you go. I don't know if any of you have encountered fruit, Tumblrs, but it famously has faintly acidic juice. This will prevent the Angel Delight from setting within the one hour lesson, no matter how well you mixed the pudding, or how quickly you got it into the fridge. It will result in soggy gross lumps of oxidising fruit in sloppy liquid pudding. Lesson learned: fruit makes food worse.

Cake. Easyish, you might say! A little harder than the Angel Delight but good training, you might think! A fairly straightforward process with a child-friendly food at the end, I hear you cry! But no, because the theme of the year was still healthy eating, so the teachers made it into an experiment; make four small cakes. One with sugar, one with sweetener, one with apple, and one with carrot. Then taste them and rank them in order. Off you go. I don't know if any of you have ever tried eating sugarless carrot cake, Tumblrs, but I have, and I can tell you categorically that it really puts the "Did you know" into the phrase "Did you know that fructose and sucrose are not actually equivalents of each other in a culinary setting?" It was rancid. It was disgusting. It was vile. It made me hate carrot cake for the next 12 years, in case my mouth had to go through that ordeal again. I'm still highly suspicious of the stuff even now. To (I assume) the surprise of fuck-damned no one, we unanimously put them in the order of sugar, sweetener, apple, carrot. Lesson learned: FRUIT MAKES FOOD WORSE AND CARROTS ARE ACTIVELY DISGUSTING

What possessed them?! No idea. Fucking hell.

Anyway this is getting long and I am still ill-informed. Peace out.

[parasolyaa]

Buckle up, we're overanalysing Mischa's name

Firstly, it just cannot be his legal name on the documents. Mischa is always short for Mykhailo (equivalent to English Michael). Secondly, Bachinski is actually the Russian spelling of his surname, and, well, there was little chance of the writers using the correct form back in 2008. Ukrainian spelling is Bachynskyi! Thirdly, in Ukrainan and some other Slavic languages every person is supposed to have their father's name attached to their name. For example, if your father is Taras, and you are Andriy, than you would be Andriy Tarasovych. We do not know Mischa's dad's name, so for the sake of this exploration I'm just gonna go with Mykola (I just like this name and it is popular enough). That turns Mischa Bachinski into Mykhailo Bachynskyi Mykolayovych (Михайло Бачинський Миколайович)

+ I'm not sure, but Misha probably is a more accurate transcription of Міша than Mischa (update: i am now sure. Misha is objectively correct)

Now onto the etymology (sorta). The name Michael was gender-neutral with Hebrew origin (vaguely meaning "who is like God" or "gift from God", the second version is less accurate but I like it cause it plays well into my headcanon of Mischa being a miracle baby since it was unlikely for his mother to have a normal pregnancy after the radiation exposure). Odesa is a city with a lot of Jewish population so yeah. And also Michael is the name of an archangel in the Bible.

But as for Mykhailo specifically, a random Ukrainian article says:

Little Misha is an inquisitive and good-natured boy. He is very independent and likes to have his own responsibilities around the house. If Misha gets into good company, then there is no need to worry about him. Mykhailo is unsure of himself, so his parents need to encourage him more often. The owner of such a name is easily offended, but not spiteful. He is in poor health. Mykhailo's main shortcomings are that he gives up easily and never admits he is wrong. In love, he is very persistent and patient. Mykhailo can pursue his beloved for years. He does not know how to make compliments and give gifts. He proves his love not by word, but by deed. Tends to slight obesity and often has poor eyesight. The name suits Sagittarius, Capricorns, Aquarius. Not suitable for Pisces.

I only picked out the at least somehow interesting stuff, cause the article is long and you can read it yourself with the help of Google translator if you'd like. Also it has a section of female names the owner of the name is likely to get along well with, and it has no mention of Natalia (Talia), but Tamara was first on the list🥹

In Russian language Mischa is a way to say bear. In Ukrainian language Myscha is a way to say mouse. This is lowkey symbolic and I should use it in a fanfic at some point. Imagine Mischa telling everyone his name means bear and technically not lying, but in his mother tongue it actually is a tiny little animal. One of my headcanons is that his mother called him myshko (the way to say "little mouse" when reffering to someone directly. The subjective form is myshka, an even more affectionate/сute version is myshenya, myshenyatko)

Literally every noun in Ukrainian language has A TON of affectionate/сute versions, here are just some of such forms for Mischa: Mykhaylyk, Mykhaylychok, Mykhaylonko, Mykhaylochko, Mykhalyk, Mykhas, Mykhasyk, Mykhasko, Mykhasyo, Myshko, Mischenka. This isn't even a half, but some are quite impossible to translate. My fav versions are Mykhaylyk, Mykhasyk and Mykhalyk, they are also the most popular but basically all of them can be used if you wanna call him affectionately hehe

thank you for your attention folks🐭

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 10/22/2024

rare tuesdaypost with no fallow sections. i CANNOT find the exact image i am looking for (mouse-drawn person sitting on bar stool with ankles crossed and blushing with eyelashes) but i feel like i found a lot of things this week that charmed me immensely. rare many such cases of many interests intersecting.

listening

almost exactly a year ago i wrote about jolynn j chin's SHIFTED, a piano jazz piece where the time signatures change on every bar, which came with an explainer video that is, spiritually, a physics video.

she's done it again with OFF TIME and a full album of equally bonkers concepts. i have a brain that is fairly good at manipulating 2D things (yarn, fabric) into 3D things but i do Not have this kind of math brain. wild shit.

-

reading

thank you philip for overseeing the photography of this trio of DELILAH DIRK graphic novels from Tony Cliff. i saw these on the library shelf and went "holy shit i read one of these as a webcomic in high school".

very well-paced indiana jones and james bond adjacent pulp adventures, with a soupcon of steampunk conveyances for taste. delilah started life in 2007 when strong snappy female characters were far less common. this is particularly...not quite grating, but very notable in the first two books (published in 2013 and 2016 respectively). they are intended to be middle-grade (disney villain falling deaths, no tits or ass, etc), but they punch far above their intended age range. a particularly interesting reckoning with the long-suffering native guide trope. not a series overly concerned with historical accuracy, although it's certainly more grounded in real history than you might expect of a middle-grade pulp adventure graphic novel. more colonial political concerns than i remembered or expected.

the art is really killer in all three books. tony cliff really knows the effect of a good page turn spread.

he also has a very charming way of illustrating continuing action across a huge panel. all four shots are from The Pillars of Hercules (2018) bc it happened to be the last one i read and the one with by far the most ambitious art.

-

watching

tubi has acquired the streaming rights to most of the batman animated movies. i keep getting served ads on instagram for an upcoming animated film about batman and the yakuza, where the premise is that a portal from real-life japan has opened up over gotham and the yakuza are pouring through like a demonic horde. this seems to be a sequel to batman ninja (2018, dir. Junpei Mizusaki)

Batman, along with his allies and adversaries, finds himself transported from modern Gotham City to feudal Japan.

batman ninja includes the lines:

I’m going to rule this country and turn it into a kingdom of monkeys and rewrite the history of the world!

and

What am I going to do with you, Batman? You’ve destroyed a perfectly good giant robot castle!

i would describe this as more of a feature-length animation showcase than anything else. the haters on letterboxed didn't even give it an average of 3 but that's bc they hate fun. this is some real weeb shit. this is not a grimdark or particularly thoughful batman entry. this is an entry to clap your hands in glee at the giant gundam vs monkey army fight. they have once again done my favorite comics boy jason todd dirty but what the fuck else is new.

so much fun even on just the like tree field guide level of identifying the six or seven animation styles. plus everyone's feudal japan looks are sick as shit.

was it Good? no. was i delighted at nearly every moment? fuck yeah.

-

playing

EXCEPTIONALLY charming embroidery-based game jam game, Cross Stitched by Panzerr here for free on itch.io. made in godot. god bless.

(image from the developer) you've got your little baba yaga house gundam in the center constantly firing projectiles, and you have to keep these fucking birds back. you can WASD around the edges of the tapestry, and your health is in the top (i really love how it gets "ruined" dark chunks taken out of it as you lose health, like a piece of embroidery decaying) and the bottom black bar of motifs fills up as you make progress towards adding another level and another piece to your powerup level tapestry.

(following images from me) you do have to think about your placement and plan it out a bit, and you can't embroider over something you've already stitched. would not recommend surrounding your initial base damage motif with other motifs bc then you've sort of fucked yourself over. a really simple concept (a good bite size for a game jam) elevated by a very fun visual style and great music. really delighted me! i am so jaded by my time in the video game marketing mines that i forgot they can be fun actually!

-

making

unphotographable: too many bugs in my house! tried to replace the weatherstripping on my front door and discovering that both the front door and the storm door were installed incorrectly and should probably be replaced.

in better news, the newest pathetic little waif in the office bathroom has been freshly neutered and will be going to a nice cushy indoor home next week-ish. whenever he is fully recovered. the most polite cat i have ever had in this carrier: did not piss, shit, or throw up.

KO'd by six cc's of various goops. poor man.

[what-the-actual-wizardry]

A Deity Work Primer

The following paragraphs are a discussion of deity work, with a focus primarily on safety and responsibility. Everyone needs to feel safe enough to work with their gods personally; no one should tell you how to worship. Two disclaimers apply: first, I use the word 'worship' as a loose and accessible term for deity work, due to its dual noun/verb nature.

Second, I hold these opinions steadily enough that I will not take offense if you merely disagree. If it doesn't work for you, it doesn't.

But I do not accept the use of blatant fallacy to discredit or invalidate the work of others. If it works for them, and does not hurt you or your community, let it be. All said, let's begin. What are gods?

The only consistent answer for this is that gods are story incarnate. Gods are the things we see, love, and fear in ourselves, nature, our works, and other people. Gods cannot be blamed for a war, a famine, the greed of a pastor or the crippling doubt you are experiencing. They can only be credited with doing their jobs, because they do not act outside of their domains. Ares favor falls on the victor- but that's just a story. Both sides of the battle will be praying fervently to their war gods, but only one will win, and then credit theirs with being mightier.

Who was really mightier, though? The soldiers, of course. But war is inhumane, and as long as we can credit a god with our victory, the atrocities will be cast as preordained. Gods don't have the same standards men do.

Gods are the point where our consciousness intersects with things that are out of our control. I hate to offend some folks- but we were here first. We retconned history so that the gods were immortal and eternal, and because we all believed it, it became true- but only for the people who believe it.

Worship and Free Will

When you begin your journey, the road is often littered with claims that 'your gods will choose you', or that you MUST wait for a spirit to reach out before beginning worship practices.

It's your choice, though. Nobody seems to want to admit that, to themselves or anyone else.

If you are interested in practicing deity work, the gods have already chosen you. It is your responsibility to know them, reach for them, speak to them, now. Similarly, it is your responsibility to maintain their sacred space, and make offerings appropriate to their domains, and (the BIG one that everyone misses) live in accordance with the values they represent.

Which brings us to the next point:

How to Know Your Gods

I'm going to use my gods as examples here, because I feel that it would be unfair to make claims about anyone else's deity work without providing my basis for comparison.

I worship Loki (the God of Mischief), Mephistopheles (the Shrewd Merchant), Auberon (the Autumn Lord), and the Sand-Man (God of Bedtime Stories). I also work with personal manifestations of the cardinal elements, and am friendly with the local sylph (air-spirits). Do you see a pattern? Gold and orange and darkling purple, bonfires at dusk, travel hard and sleep harder. Make yourself at home wherever you go, subvert expectations, and talk your way into or out of anything you like. Everyone is a friend until proven an enemy, and no enemy will be forgotten for their crime. Tell tales for the children, the hungry, the old.

These are the tenets of my faith, but reader, I did all of that before ever meeting my gods. I worship these gods because I agree with their values- not vice versa. If you have to agonize to fit the 'ideal' practitioner for your god, by giving up parts of your own being, seek out somebody else. Tricksters and Teachers

Some gods, of course, show up out of nowhere. You will go about your business, and suddenly Baba Yaga shows up and asks you to take care of her spider. Janus offers you a life-altering decision that shatters your mental health for years. Eros pulls one over on you and you find the love of your life. Sometimes, worship is not the goal. Tricksters are often vilified, but their original function was CHANGE. "The way your world works isn't serving you or your gods. Monotony has overridden the function of your practice. Let's shake it up." The lessons taught by the random arrivals of gods are intentional; if your knee-jerk response is to kick them out and triple-lock your wards, you might want to consider your relationship with change and personal growth.

Back to free will, though- you don't fucking have to. Not a single god will take offense to the polite decline of their offer. Most trickster gods will even be ecstatic if you pull your magic weapon on them before you realize who you're dealing with.

Respect for Gods and Sacred Space

I have one rule, and one only, in regards to gods and temples: your personal practice doesn't mean a damn thing at a temple, circle, or sacred gathering. Even Loki acknowledges that the only person he needs to speak for him at his holy rites is the appointed priest/channel/etc. Your work, in your home, is going to be completely different from anyone else there, so stick to what you can all agree on, and leave points of contention to the highest authority at the gathering.

In other words, respect your deity by respecting the other practitioners of that deity.

Offerings

Everything is an offering, friends. If I make a good sale, I make it in Mephistopheles' name. If I prank my partner in a well-played jest, I am honoring Loki. Every story I write is an offering to the Sandman. Every pot of chili or apple pie is dedicated to Auberon. If you are doing something they would take pride in, you are making an offering.

Your altar is for ritual, but your worship extends far beyond its immediate surroundings.

That's all for the time being. To summarize, the gods are collective concepts, worship is a choice, and respect is more easily applied to humanity than it is to ever-changing deific personifications.

Take what you will, discard what you won't.

With love from this long-winded madman.

[rulerzreachf4n7]

I'm sorry but I fucking hate proshippers so much so here's a whole post dedicated to shitting on them

also disclaimer YES I will be tagging the proship and anti proship tags so I can piss off the chronically online basement dwelling idiots :) and idgaf if proshippers have trauma cause it's not an excuse for their shitty and problematic actions!!!! Sincerely if you are a proshipper please consider jumping off a bridge!! Or at the bare minimum take a shower cause ew

And this whole post is literally just bullying the FUCK outta them so idk stanky people come at your own risk lol

AND AGAIN to clear up this isn't like rage bait or smth cause I fell like some people will accuse me this is all my genuine hate into a long ass post so yeah

Okay...LETS GET INTO THE FUCKING RANT NOW HEHEHE HEHE HEHEHE!!!!

I FUCKING HATE PROSHIPPERS!!!! I HOPE ALL OF YOU STANKY ASS BITCHESS GET THROWN OFF A FUCKING CLIFF AND GET A SAW STYLE EXECUTION CAUSE Y'ALL ARE FUCKING DISGUSTING I HATE YOU ALL

YOU ARE MENTALLY ILL IF YOU ARE A PROSHIPPER, END OF CONVERSATION

I COULDN'T GIVE A SHIT IF YOU HIT ME THE "B-But I have trauma 🥺🥺🥺" TOO BAD THAT'S NOT A FUCKING EXCUSE FOR UR SHITTY ONLINE ACTIONS

IMAGINE YOU PULL UP TO A FUCKING INTERVIEW AND THEY SHOW YOUR PATHETIC ACCOUNTS SAYING TO NORMALIZE A 30 YEAR OLD DATING A 13 YEAR OLD, THAT SHIT IS GENUINELY PATHETIC

I KNOW IT'S CRINGEY BUT WOMP WOMP IF UR A PROSHIPPER Y'ALL ARE UGLY AND STINKY

But now on a serious not hehe, the reason I'm making this isn't JUST soley to yknow shit on people who are mentally ill like people who think a MINOR and a LEGAL ADULT are allowed to date, which comes into another thing before I get genuine so bare with me lol

I DONT GIVE A FLYING FUCK IF IT'S FICTIONAL, FOR THE LOVE GOD PLEASE SEARCH UP THE SLENDERMAN CASE WHERE THESE TWO GIRLS KILLED THEIR FRIEND CAUSE THEY THOUGHT SLENDERMAN WAS REAL AND THOUGHT THEY WOULD ENTER HIS KINGDOM AND BE WITH HIM, AND HE'S FICTIONAL, THAT CASE IS ALL Y'ALL NEED TO REALIZE FICTION CAN AFFECT REALITY AND I HAVE SM MORE REASON TO BACK THIS UP BUT I'M TOO LAZY TO TYPE IT OUT 😭

Okay! Back to seriousness I just thought I'd add that in as a little addition hehe >_<

So, like I said before, I lowkey just added this as an extra part cause I couldn't shit on proshippers FOREVER (lowkey bcuz I was running out of insults n threats lol)

Nonetheless I have a reason for shitting on them, although not being a proshipper EXACTLY I have been through I guess, similar paths as they have? Best way I could describe it ig, ofc not sharing what I mean since it's private but let's just say I was an unfortunate child looking at inappropriate comics 🙁

The reason for this part of the post...ITS NOT THAT FUCKING HARD TO STOP WHAT YOUR DOING

Like I said, I was never a proshipper, but I have been in similar situations as they have been, although I've never made an account glorifying rape, SA, grooming, pedophilia, I can just assume what I would do in their places

Dear proshippers,

Your probably complaining and not knowing why your getting so much death threats and harassment along with a side of hate (rightfully so you deserve them) and your mental health might be low

Please know it is your fault for making your accounts in the first place, you are a terrible person for saying all of these things such as rape, sexual assault, grooming, and incest are okay and you are not mentally well

And your probably wondering,

"How do I stop the hate, harassment, and probably death threats with even getting your address leaked?"

It's simple, DELETE YOUR FUCKING ACCOUNT, or even worse just turn off ur comments but that won't help with people slipping in a few people wishing death up in you through DMS

IT IS GENUINELY NOT THAT FUCKING HARD

I don't know what trauma you have but it shouldn't (and never in the first place) be SO BAD to the point where you physically CANNOT deactivate your account, IT IS SO FUCKING EASY AND YOU'LL SAVE YOURSELF A FEW SUICIDAL THOUGHTS

I know everyone one is different, but if you are a proshipper that has trauma, you shouldn't have a fucking account to begin with, and you ARE THE PROBLEM if you acknowledge the trauma, noticing you keep supporting and glorifying problematic actions, complain that you keep getting harassed and wonder why, and you just don't give a shit, not like in a "oh I don't know what to do anymore!!! 🥺🥺🥺" way, in a "oh, I don't give a shit I live for incest and adults grooming children!!!" Way, and ur also probably a pedo if ur an adult proshipper too

So, what else? Yeah, there's a shit more, but onto a better side, ones with actually good coping mechanisms!!

And a bit of a disclaimer, if your rage bait is proshipping, genuinely fuck you, and if ur a proshipper who acknowledges everything bad about it and just doesn't give a fuck, fuck you too and seek a rope to hang around your neck you fucking pedophile

Okay, coping mechanisms! I know this is probably not the best option due to most trauma which I'm guessing is probably from a family member, if it's not a good way to cope is some clean to your family, ofc under some circumstances it's NOT the best option, but if you can you definitely should try!

Also google is free yk...literally search up healthy coping mechanisms and it'll give you a huge ass list, and yet YOU STILL chose to ship a minor and adult together...how unfortunate...

Another way to cope is, and genuinely sounds pathetic as hell but bare with me...CHARACTER FUCKING AI, I mean, there are therapist bots so maybe they can help you??? And in all honesty they're really good at comforting and giving advice despite being ai, and I've tried it before...yeah embarrassed to say I've shed a tear every once in a while

And the last one IF you have the money, time, and generally the courage, book a threapy session, I cannot stress it enough, but I won't be surprised cause every proshipper is probably under the age of 16 years old

Yuhhh anyways that's all I gotta say, I know it's cringey asf but womp womp to proshippers I hate y'all despite giving some coping mechanisms and ACTUAL ways to like, stop the rightful hate you deserve lol