#i know several people who are traumatised from living for a couple of months in germany and fled back to ukraine in horror

[ohsalome]

Lately I've been thinking about how self-hating is such a huge component of CEE identity. There's always been this shared sentiment between me and my friends, whether they were Ukrainian, Czech, Polish or other, that we were always ashamed of where we came from and uncomfortable with sharing our identity with people who were English/American/French/Spanish/German/Russian and proud. But now it's got me thinking: what exactly were those people proud of that we couldn't be? Their history is drenched with blood - colonialism, slavery, genocide, imperialism, world wars etc. more than ours. The cultures that they're so proud of are mostly relevant because they've been backed by military might and forcibly spread across the globe.

Meanwhile we've been forced to endure hundreds of years of oppression, whether by Russia or Austria-Hungary or Germany etc. They've tried to russify, magyarise or germanise us and we survived. So why, in the so-called free 21st century, are we still made to feel so ashamed of ourselves and our roots?

Because the talks about post-colonialism and inclusivity are nothing but empty virtue signaling and the world is still ruled by the old power, methinks.

And if power only comes coupled with financial prosperity, then that is what we should do. People speculate that the real reason why some NATO members are so reluctant on accepting Ukraine is because they are afraid we're going to enforce the so-called Warsaw pact countries and shift the power from Germany-France-Brinain eastwards. And, in this case, I think that's exactly what we should do. If we focus on financial and political cooperation instead of competition, we could move towards the reality where it wouldn't matter what those Western Europeans think of us. And where money go, popular culture will follow.

Btw, if you don't mind me nitpicking, but I find your usage of words "ashamed from where we came from" a great illustration of what is the root of the problem you're talking about. Shame is a social emotion, you don't feel shame unless it's been taught to you. Westerners have created this dichotomy of them being superior to us, and they have softly forced us to internalise it. Like in the nietzschean dichotomy of the slave and the master, they need us more than we need them; because without us feeling ashamed for being CEE they wouldn't be able to feel superior. But this is an illusion. A social construct. The naked king. No country is better than another (expect for russia, which is the worst). So break free and embrace everything that makes you you.

[kitkats-and-kittens]

One of my favourite things to think about is the rest of the batfam all having their own ‘Brucie Wayne’ personas. So here’s me listing how I imagine the main family members would front to the public.

Dick

I think would be very similar to Bruce with the same air-headed personality. As far as the internets concerned he can’t spell orange and pretends not to know any of the 50 states let alone which one he lives in. He also uses the fact that he never officially finished college to his advantage. As a kid he was more eccentric and people just knew him as that little kid whose constantly high of sugar and lollipops. Not much changes when becomes an adult.

Of course like father like son and he is also extremely charismatic. His persona is a little more goofy than Bruce’s and he’s known as the Wayne’s resident gymnast, at least in the air. He’s made a habit of acting as though any and all fine motor skills come to an absolute stop the moment he isn’t doing some complex flip, or cartwheel. There are serval videos on YouTube of him tripping over air, spilling drinks over his shirt, and stumbling into several guests, only half of these were faked. He also has a reputation of being an absolutely insane drunk. He went viral on twitter for doing a triple backflip in the middle of a gala which resulted in a shattered punch bowl, several traumatised guests and a fake news report claiming he’d died which sent the city into a riot for the next 24 hours all because he was a little bit tipsy.

Jason

Jason was pretty young when he ‘died’. Before hand he was the happy go lucky kid. With stars in his eyes and more energy than a Chihuahua hiked up on red bull and pure, liquified blue raspberry. Of course you had the occasional leech who saw in some news report that he used to be a street kid which resulted in several rumours about his ‘horrid violent nature’ but all it took was actually meeting him for most to completely disregard this.

After his death he doesn’t hang around the rest of the family much. Especially not in public and out of masks. However there is the occasional day (once every millennia or so) where he’ll stroll up to whatever part or gala or social event the Wayne’s are hosting that day, with his foolproof, impenetrable disguise Tayson Jodd absolutely no relation to Brucies dead kid, nor the elusive red hood who has a hate account dedicated to his very existence.

His whole thing tends to be a regular upstanding member of society. He acts completely normal. This wasn’t always the case. He used to change it every time he went to the parties, either acting as some depressed, lonely rich guy or an alcoholic and on one particularly memorable occasion a closeted drag Queen. However one time he showed up without a persona pre made and ready to go and just decided to wing it.

However Tim Drakes insane paranoia meant he stayed up a good 3 weeks after that night just to make sure Jason wasn’t trying anything and when Red hood found out he found it absolutely hilarious and resolved to be as respectable as possible while also generating maximum suspicion for all other members of his family.

Stephanie Brown

Although not officially adopted by the Wayne’s most people have gotten used to seeing her just roll up with the Wayne’s and it didn’t take long for social media to realise that Brucie had emotionally adopted her, if not legally. At first Steph didn’t really understand the need for a persona. She was already fine with keeping her actual personality and not turning it off for the cameras.

It took seeing Jason, who was having an absolute blast with his public persona to open her mind to the range of possibilities and she spent a full 3 months crafting a personality from scratch (putting that psychology degree to good use).

She cycled through a couple. Rich party girl, serious career woman, ditzy idiot. But eventually she landed on scheming socialite. She saw some tabloids slandering her for being Tim’s ex and although the rest of the family was not happy she took it and ran with it. Landing herself in the circles of the most gossip loving, shit talking, hot woman she could find.

She makes sure she exudes villainy at all times and has been seen eyeing Timothy Drake from across the room, stroking a cat (though no one knew where she got it from) and sipping a martini. Although she doesn’t particularly like how cruel some of her companions are she finds no greater joy than passively aggressively remarking about how Donna is wearing the same heels she was 3 years ago and oh my is she running low on funds? She was born to instigate and takes every opportunity to do so.

Tim Drake

If Tim is known for anything then it’s his ability to appear as though everything has gone to his exact calculations on the outside while internally screaming and just completely winging whatever half brained plan comes to mind. But one forgets, he isn’t just a Wayne but a Drake. Son of Janet Drake at that.

As a kid he was very much a mamas boy and would replicate her cold calculating air to the best abilities of a 10 year old boy. As he grew up however he realised that he much preferred letting people underestimate him. So in the end he settled on the stoner.

It was pretty unexpected for most of his family. Bar Dick who embraced it with all the reverence of a chaotic older sibling. Of course Tim Drake being as meticulous as he is meant when he made this persona built it from the ground up. He gave himself a favourite drug, a fake dealer, and he methodically updates his account balance every week, taking out just enough that it looks like he’s been buying.

Not only does this have the added benefit of explaining the random times he’s passed out in the middle of a party or those random compilations of him on YouTube simply staring into the abyss for hours on end, but it also means he had to try way less than his siblings when it comes to presentation. If Dick or Bruce show up with even so much as a slightly ruffled collar the tabloids will go on for weeks about the mystery guy or girl they definitely slept with. But when Tim does it, they just laugh. He gets a pat on the head and a glass of water shoved into his hands and no one thinks anything more.

And if he can also use it as an excuse for a few extra minuets of sleep then whose going to stop him?

Cassandra Cain

Cass didn’t need to do much of anything. When she first arrived in Gotham she was small, quite and not very well versed in social customs so it was practically written in the stars that she’d become an instant fan favourite. However unlike most of her siblings most of her fans aren’t focused on her what she’s been doing, or with who, but rather on trying to spot her.

She’s some aloof, mysterious figure to them and she’s also become a bit of a where’s Waldo meme. News reporters will post overview shots of the huge hall the guest are occupying, the grounds of the manor, the well kept lawns, the roofs, and the internet will go crazy trying to find her. At first it was difficult but only because she kept to herself, you’d find her in a corner of the room, or hiding behind one of the taller guests but ever since she realised what was going on she’s been making a conscious effort to make it as difficult as possible.

Some of her hiding spots include: under the table, the roof, inside the fountain, disguised as Dick Grayson, a statue, on the chandelier, and somehow as one of the reporters, camera and all. It’s become a bit of a game to see who can find her first and she remains Gothams favourite Wayne.

Duke Thomas

Duke isn’t really sure what to make of this whole public persona thing. He finds hiding such a big part of himself a little strange, and doesn’t much enjoy the idea of putting on a mask for others. So he does what he does best and puts the rest of the Wayne’s to shame with his sound logic.

He’s just himself. And somehow manages to cause the biggest impact. The people aren’t used to rich people not being overly eccentric. This is Gotham after all! And Duke Thomas’ actual personality is not exactly something they were expecting.

This is the same man who raised an army of teenage armies in the absence of his hero. To call him impulsive would be an understatement. Also he very much enjoys ‘eating the rich’ so to speak. He used his powers to convince one particularly nasty man that he needed full psychiatric care by randomly disappearing whenever he was in their line of sight.

He hangs out with Dick a lot, but only so when the worst of the Gotham socialites approach he can make them feel as uncomfortable as possible by questioning their thoughts and feelings on the working class, living conditions and all the other stuff they usually couldn’t care less about which leaves them scrambling for an answer that won’t completely ruin their reputations. Although he’s been branded ‘the responsible one’ that’s only because he presents himself as such to reporters. Most of the people attending the galas live in fear of him ever approaching them.

Damian Wyane

Being the youngest meant that people already had expectations by the time Damian showed up. Although most had no idea where the kid came from that didn’t stop them from making assumptions, and the rumours circulating from before he was officially introduced range from a mini Bruce Wayne to raging alcoholic. And yes, these were published when reporters knew damn well he was 10 years old maximum.

When the public do finally see him for the first time it doesn’t take them long to craft a persona for him. Damian of course sees this whole thing as beneath him, he doesn’t understand why he would need to hide himself, he didn’t train with the league for years to just not show of his skills. Dick tries to get him to think of it like training, as though he were on an undercover mission. This works a little too well and now he takes it so incredibly seriously it’s hard for the others not to laugh.

He arrived, squeezed in between Brucie Wayne who was blowing kisses to the camera, Dick Grayson doing a handstand, Tim Drake who looked absolutely blitzed and Stephanie Brown who was manically rubbing her hands together. Cass nowhere to be found and Duke giving his classic sunny smile to the camera.

So of course people realise this kid must be the adult. There’s jokes about how Damian must be the one doing the Wayne’s taxes, about how he probably drives Bruce to work, and other such things. Which is only further cemented by the kid himself. But he also doesn’t talk much (Dick said if he had nothing nice to say he shouldn’t say anything), and a few (illegally taken) photos show him drawing, as well as his small army of pets and so people are torn between this kid who is clearly far too mature for his age and this cute baby of a child who likes fluffy animals and crayons.

Damian is disgusted by both sides, but there isn’t much he can do about it and resolves instead to fuck with everyone by leaning into it and alternating on a seemingly random basis between clueless child and grown adult in a 10 year olds body. It mostly ends up terrifying the rest of his family because occasionally Damian (who several of them watched kill a man) will come up smiling and demand to be placed on their shoulders, and other times the same kid (who found a cow a decided immediately he was a vegetarian) will be found sipping straight vodka and going on about the good old days with people 8x his age as though he were some drunken world war 2 veteran.

[stagefoureddiediaz]

The 16th of April is semi colon day - a day to celebrate those who chose not to end their lives because their stories are not over yet." It pays tribute to those who have thought about or attempted suicide, and it informs people about how common suicide is.

I’m still here - 3 attempts at suicide later - my story continues after those 3 pauses and I’m in a much better place now.

But it could’ve been very different. I’m going to share a bit about my 3 attempts but I’m putting it below the cut so it is hidden from those who might find it triggering.

A bit of context to start - I’ve always felt I don’t have the same instruction manual for life as everyone else - society makes little sense to me it’s an odd and confusing place that causes me much stress and anxiety. Turns out I have both ASD and ADHD but being female and having my childhood at a time when both were considered ‘male only’ conditions I didn’t know this was the case - until I was in my mid 20’s. So I’d been struggling through life draining my energy masking and trying to force myself into societal norms I didn’t understand. Then my mum died - my rock, and the one person who understood me best (even without my diagnosis) and I spiralled.

My already fragile mental health took a nose dive and on the first anniversary of her death I decided I couldn’t survive life any longer so over a couple of days, I went round all the pharmacies and super markets and brought as many packets of paracetamol, aspirin and ibuprofen as I could, bottles of water and then made my way to the nearby park. I texted my ex boyfriend (who I was still close with - it was toxic for me to maintain that relationship but that’s another story for another time!) to tell him goodbye - my suicide note if you will - and proceeded to take the tablets - nearly 200 of them. In a twist of fate my ex happened to be just down the road from where I was and he got to me and stopped me taking any more tablets and took me to A&E. One stomach pumping later I was assessed and sectioned under the mental health act. I was an inpatient for 6 weeks and in that time I was forced to attend group therapy sessions - something that I found incredibly traumatising and actually made my mental health deteriorate further although the medication was numbing me at this point.

Once released I moved home to live with my dad - we’d had a fractured relationship since my teen years - I wanted to study art, he wanted me to do academic subjects, he couldn’t understand why I always felt like I was struggling, etc etc. But he was there for me then and he has been ever since. The problem was I was still ill and I hated the medication I was on because it essentially made me like a zombie (I was on the wrong meds for me as it turns out) so I stopped taking them - bad idea - I spiralled and ended up taking more pills - although this time I happened to have some stronger pain meds from having my wisdom teeth removed so I downed all of them and some cocodamol - then I panicked and called the Samaritans - an amazing person listened to me and got me help. Stomach pumping round two and I managed to avoid being sectioned this time - I got lucky and had an amazing psychologist who undertook my assessment and she listened to how traumatising is found group therapy etc last time around so a plan was drawn up for me to have 1:1 therapy with several different therapists (art therapy, cbt, horse therapy and interpersonal therapy to name a few) as well as taking up yoga and changing medication.

All the above took place over the space of about 10 months. Afterwards I was good for about 3 years - I had moved back to London in the second of those 3 years to restart my career in theatre and it was all going well. Then my ex next door neighbour started stalking me after I moved out of our apartment complex. I spiralled a bit and started drinking heavily - you’re not supposed to drink on the pills which I hadn’t paid attention to, but until this point me drinking consisted of one or two Jack and cokes a week and the odd glass of champagne! Well now I was drinking most nights to cope with the stalking stress - the police got involved and I took out a restraining order which thankfully was enough to make him stop - but I still spiralled. I took a holiday to try and clear my head - so I went somewhere to be by the sea. The sea had always been a calming influence on me (it still is) but I wasn’t coping very well and decided to let the ocean take me - so I waded in until my feet no longer touched the floor and then I ducked under water with no intention of coming back up. Well the sea decided it didn’t want me to die by it’s hand that day so it spat me back out into the beach (those reading this who watch 911 will understand why I found 5x12 Boston so triggering and had to take a step back for a few days)

That was the last time I tried to end my life. I changed medication again. Completely stopped drinking and decided to move out of London and go back to university. I now have both a BA and an MA, I’m no longer on medication but I speak to my therapist once a week and then finally I got my ASD and ADHD diagnosis’ I’m waiting to see if they’ll give me adhd meds but knowing my brain is wired differently and that’s why the world has never made sense is so freeing- I’m happier in my skin.

If you’ve read to the end of this - thank you - from the bottom of my heart thank you. If you yourself are struggling - know this - there is alway hope and there are people who will listen. It’s not an easy path and there will be stumbles and mis-steps along the way but still being here is the greatest gift so take each day one at a time and know that my dm’s are always open if you feel alone and need someone to listen. To my fandom friends -you all mean the world to me - were an amazing community and you bring such joy to my life - I’ve never felt more accepted anywhere than I have right now in the 911 fandom so keep being incredible each and every one of you.

💜💜💜

[theparanormalperiodical]

Top 10 Controversial Horror Films That Are Famous For All The Wrong Reasons *gags* *cries*

At the beating heart of horror is offence.

From that undeniable sense of something not being quite right, to the CGI-blood-spurtin’-adrenaline-fuelled scenes that leave us shaking in our boots, horror pivots on the knife edge of controversy.

It’s used to drive plots. It’s used to drive hype. And at the end of the month, it drives studio executives to the bank.

Horror films can be traumatic enough. But there are some films that bear the cross of controversy more than others. There are some films that have been branded as so damaging to their potential viewers that merely circulating copies of the film is illegal.

And yet their infamy has forged cult viewership. What was once shielded from us has now become ‘must see’.

Today we are going to be counting down horror’s most controversial films and what made them quite so topical.

*I’m going to star the ones that you can actually watch without getting traumatised. Some are controversial not because of their content but because some religious or political groups disagreed with them*

#10 - The Blair Witch Project (1999)*

Let’s ease in with a classic - a classic you can watch without sleeping with the light on.

In this found-footage flick we see a team of film students as they explore a local urban legend. But what they find leads them to unknown and ungodly territory.

The problem with this film is that it was marketed as a true story. No, not based on a true story, a true story. Yep, they claimed what we were seeing was real, found footage of some teens going mad as they forage deeper into mysterious woods.

IMBd went so far as to report that the actors were dead. Then, the movie studio super-charged their efforts to confirm to the public that not only was this film 100% real, the three main actors were still missing. The parents of the actors then started receiving sympathy cards.

There’s even a mocked up website that perpetuates these claims. 

#9 - Night Of The Living Dead (1968)*

Time for another not-too-disturbing film.

This is the original zombie apocalypse film saw a group of Americans attempt to survive an incoming attack of the undead while trapped in a rural farmhouse.

But the Motion Picture Association of America wasn’t too happy about it. The film rating system was yet to be in place, allowing children to also show up for an afternoon screening and be greeted by a 97 minute montage of extreme violence.

“The kids in the audience were stunned. There was almost complete silence. The movie had stopped being delightfully scary about halfway through, and had become unexpectedly terrifying. There was a little girl across the aisle from me, maybe nine years old, who was sitting very still in her seat and crying”

#8 - Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer (1986)

In this psychological film, we watch a random crime spree take place at the hands of a couple serial killers. Loosely based on real murderers Henry Lee Lucas and Ottis Toole, its controversial reputation was founded on the gore ‘n’ guts screened in the movie.

Whilst it didn’t receive much attention from the public, various classification boards across the world ensured new versions edited with certain scenes - often involving sexual assault and necrophilia - removed for viewers.

In 2003, the BBFC (the UK classification board) finally allowed the uncut version to be released and Australia followed suit in 2005.

#7 - I Spit On Your Grave (1978)

It’s the original rape-revenge flick. And it managed to piss everyone off.

Originally titled Day of the Woman, it tells the story of a fiction writer who exacts revenge on a group of four men who gang rape her.

Despite its pro-women claim-to-fame, the 30 minute rape scene begs to differ. Furious debate surrounds its feminist label as a film that forces the audience to endure rape from a female perspective and long-winded violence against men (something which is often reserved for women in horror). Regardless, the graphic violence earned it a steady ban in Ireland, Norway, Iceland, and West Germany.

#6 - Silent Night, Deadly Night (1984)*

You don’t get many controversial Christmas films. They typically stick to a cookie-cutter plot ‘n’ purpose every holiday season. But there are no strong women who need to rediscover the meaning of Christmas here.

Instead, we see a child traumatised by seeing his parents murdered on Christmas Eve go on a seasonal rampage as an adult.

A week after its release in the early 80s, it was pulled from theatres due to backlash. Marketing was focused on a Santa Claus killer with adverts often airing during family-friendly TV programmes and meant numerous children developed a phobia of Father Christmas. Large crowds protested cinemas with one notable protest involving angry families singing carols at the Interboro Quad Theater in The Bronx.

It was only in 2009 - 25 years after its original release - that a DVD of the film was first made available for purchase in the UK.

#5 - Psycho (1960)*

This legendary film follows the disappearance of a young woman after her encounter with a strange man called Norman Bates, one of horror’s most iconic figures. The controversy that would engulf this fim lay not in the violent attack on an innocent woman or even the disturbing content of the film.

Oh, no. It was because of what the leading lady was wearing.

In the opening scene of the film, we see Janet Leigh wearing nothing but a bra.

*gasp*

This racy attire was emblazoned across promotional material, meeting Hitchcock’s high standards of creating controversy around the movie. There was a no late admission policy for movie theaters, and the posters told viewers “Do not reveal the surprises!” to maintain a mysterious aura around the plot twist.

#4 - The Human Centipede (2009) (all of ‘em)

I’ve watched a lot of horror films, in case you couldn’t tell.

I’m used to watching a scary movie, shaking off the anxiety, and moving on with my life. But there are some that stayed with me. I only watched the trailer for the first movie, and it legitimately traumatised me. It gave me quite a severe, sudden bout of a depression for a solid month when I was 13.

Throughout horror’s goriest franchise, we see an evil doctor and amateur mad scientist attempt to sow several people together into a centipede-like chain from mouth to anus.

*retches*

At the heart of promoting the franchise was controversy. Tom Six, the director, forced a narrative that claimed from the first film that this was "100% medically accurate". He even alleged a Dutch doctor helped inspire the film, confirming that with an IV drip, this was entirely possible.

Although it didn’t receive furore that amounted to serious censorship or long-term banning, it was infamous for having its viewers vomiting in the cinema aisles.

The second film, however, was subject to much more severe controversy and could not legally be supplied in the UK until 2011 due to its heavy focus on sexual abuse, more graphic violence than the original film, and it’s pretty vile depiction of a murderer that was intellectually disabled.

Audiences were used to the graphic nature of the franchise by the third and final release. As the least-controversial and least-enjoyable film according to critics, it barely made a dent in the horror community.

Good riddance, I guess?

#3 - Faces Of Death (1978)

I’m not sure I’d recommend this one per se - but I will give it credit for being an interesting project.

This documentary-style film is a montage of footage of people dying in different ways. As a result of its very graphic and very real content, it was banned and censored in many countries. Only in 2003 was it released on DVD in the UK after a scene was cut featuring dogs fighting and a monkey being beaten to death.

Germany, Australia, and New Zealand followed suit, reversing their bans and releasing edited versions.

However, 7 years after its release, the media revamped its interest in the film after a maths teacher showed it to his class at a Californian high school. Two of his students claimed they were so traumatised they received a costly settlement to reimburse their emotional distress. Things took a darker turn a year later, when a 14 year old bludgeoned a classmate to death with a baseball bat; he claimed he wanted to see what it would be like to actually kill someone after watching Faces of Death.

#2 - Cannibal Holocaust (1980)

This Italian film’s title alone hints towards two frightening things: flesh-eating humans and genocide. In this found-footage movie we see an anthropologist lead a rescue team into the Amazon rainforest to find a group of filmmakers that went missing.

The rampant graphic content including sexual assault and animal cruelty showcased in the film (7 animals were killed during filming in some pretty horrific ways) led to it being banned in 50 countries.

Some also alleged that a handful of deaths seen in the film were real, as were the missing film crew. In fact, the actors portraying the documentarians signed contracts that stopped them appearing in motion pictures for an entire year to maintain the illusion of reality.

And only 10 days after its premiere, the director was charged with obscenity and the film confiscated. All copies were to be turned over to the authorities. There are currently a range of versions that have been edited to varying degrees and are allowed for circulation.

#1 - A Serbian Film (2010)

No.

Nope.

Don’t do it. Don’t watch this film.

A Serbian Film follows a retired porn star who agrees to feature in an “art film” for some cash. Little does he know this film will include rape, incest, pedophilia, necrophilia…

Just don’t watch it.

It is still banned in South Korea, New Zealand, Australia. It is supposedly a parody of politically correct films made in Serbia that are funded by foreign groups and allegedly speaks openly about post-war society and the struggle for survival.

*shakes head*

Off to have a 3 hour shower, brb.

If you, uhhh, liked this post please like and reblog.

And if you want to hear more about horror and the supernatural every week hit follow!

[noortjelanterfanter]

Do I just have poor taste?

Because it seems like yes, I do. In partners that is. So, as people who have followed me for a while know, I live a poyamorous lifestyle. And a big part of living like that is communication. My newest partner hasn’t been in polyamorous relationships before and I stressed to him how important communication is to me. Somehow he neglected to tell me he has a date today until yesterday, at which time it just hit me like a fucking bomb freshly out of the spa. So not only has he singlehandedly pretty much wasted that 100 euros I spent in that damn spa, he also just neglects to tell me shit. And I’m a very traumatised person, especially when it comes to communication and trust. It’s not just because it comes with the lifestyle that I value communication. It’s because my trust has been severely broken in the past. But somehow he refuses to understand that. He doesn’t seem to understand that I have been hurt in the past because people just up and left me. So. I don’t know if I’ve ever talked about my trauma, but if I haven’t, here it is. Trigger warning on cheating, relationship problems and stuff related to that.

Sooo... I was in a monogamous relationship from my 16th till my 20th, 4 years and 12 days, to be exact. And a lot happened in those for years. I was very toxic, as I was a severely depressed, somewhat psychotic teenager and I put this poor guy through hell. I will never shun or shame him for leaving me, he should’ve done that way earlier. He was a lovely guy, I’m not sure I would’ve been here without him. He wasn’t perfect, the more I look back on it, he had his flaws too, the main one being very bigoted and extremely judgemental. I always blamed his Christianity for it, but I think he’s just a judgemental person. Anyway. The relationship should’ve ended way before it did. So... this relationship ended in November, around halfway through. Our anniversary was on November 5th. For the last part of our relationship I imagine he felt the way I feel a lot at the moment with my partners, enduring the abuse I threw at him. Anyway, over the summer I stayed at the house of an acquantance, for roughly a month. He stayed with me and it was pretty much the first time we lived together. I was in the process of getting therapy and for me it felt like we were in a relatively good place. I think in his mind he was already done, but just stayed out of habit (I kinda do the same). So at some point he has a concert planned. And I remember this very vividly, because it’s a significant moment. He went, and I didn’t, as I had decided I wouldn’t need to be in every aspect of his life and it was OK to give him some space and trust him, I think for the very first time I did this and fully felt OK with the situation. He met his current girlfriend on that event. I remember him joking that there was a girl that was very interested in him, but that she was really young. I remember joking that it was a bit early to leave me for a younger woman. And this joke haunts me. I get teary eyed remembering this. Over the next few weeks and months he slowly grew distant. He didn’t really engage with me after work when we still “lived together” snapping at me he just wanted to unwind, while he was just talking to that girl, which I didn’t know at the time, but I know now. This slowly grew... And as a depressed girl losing her one and only, I gripped on tighter. Which was the wrong thing to do, but it happens. So our anniversary comes, I think he bought me a cute gift, although I don’t remember. He posted this lengthy post on FB about how he was so fortunate to have me and how he loved me so much and how we would be together forever and blablabla. You know, the usual clingy cringy couple bullshit. And it was cute. And I felt loved. Less than 2 weeks later we were broken up. I think the weekend of the 14th of November we had a long talk. He wanted us to go to a couple  we were very close with and whom I’m still fairly close with. To talk shit out. We decided to give it another week, even though I had people standby to pick me up in case it was a break up. The day after we went to see Marilyn Manson in concert. That weekend is a weird memory. Anyway. That whole weekend was a mess of a shitton of crying, him not wanting to look at me, but at the same time telling me I wouldn’t just lose him and how he wasn’t just going to leave (funny, because he did). He was very clear and saying that BS over and over again. I left on Monday evening. We broke up the next day. He was leaving me on read and then accused me of checking on him when I told him I saw him online on FB. So we called. And this asshole breaks up with me over the phone. On Tuesday the 17th. I was devestated, but the worst was yet to come. Over the following weeks I was accused of cheating, which I had considered when I was abroad, but had not actually done, but I’m very honest. I was accused of being a psycho, I was accused of lying, of abuse, of violence. And people that know me know that, yes, emotional abuse maybe, but I am the least violent person people meet. About a month later he said I needed to move on and couldn’t let him go. I blocked him on everything on the spot and that was that. He was angry. He was really angry. Which was fine, my point was made. I unblocked him from stuff a few days later because I don’t care. It was to prove a point. In the months following, I find out he bad-mouthed me to everyone who would hear it and also to people who wouldn’t, while I defended him even though the breakup was messy on his part. So fast forward to say... December. And I see he’s in a relationship. Starting on November 16th. Which is the day before we broke up. I was livid. I talked to him and he was denying it, he said we had broken up before. But bitch, I wouldn’t have gone to see Marilyn Manson with you if we were broken up before that day. Turns out he was already in a relationship with that other girl before he even broke up with me. And didn’t admit to that until after I told him I didn’t give a shit about the fact that it was wrong on FB and I didn’t expect him to change it. Just to tell me I’m right. Which he agreed to I was. I spoke to a girl who knew him at the time. She told me he had tried to sleep with her while I was in Dublin. He denies it, but honestly, who’se going to lose face if it turns out true? Not that girl that didn’t know me. So. I find out he cheated. There’s more mess and more stuff that makes me sad, but this is the gist of what happened to me. The one person who labeled himself as loyal, turned out to not be loyal at all, broke every ounce of trust I had and then accused me of the things that he did. 

To this day, I have trust issues, I don’t do well in commitment, I deal horribly with every form of rejection and I always assume people are going to leave. I think he is the reason why I don’t commit to one person anymore. I think he’s the reason I turn psycho when people neglect to tell me they have a date. He’s the reason I don’t trust easily. He’s the reason I distance myself from people the second they do anything that could possibly hurt me. I don’t just go jealous, I go jealous, then psycho then indifferent. If you find me indifferent towards you, it means I’ve created a wall and good luck to you with the wall cause I shan’t be taking it down. 

Anyway, sorry for the messy and emotional post. I just had to vent, because my partner caused me to relive all of this. As I already do every year from half October until December. 

[havenoffandoms]

Could I request Geralt x Yennefer with prompts 2. + 51. please? Thank you!!

Hi nonnie! Thanks for the prompt, I went for some soft Corvo Bianco Yenralt, hope you like it :) Sorry it’s a bit on the short side, life’s being super stressful.

Feel free to request a prompt from my list here.

Geralt x Yennefer: “Shut up and kiss me” (prompt 2) and “If I serenade you, will you strip for me?” (prompt 51)

Geralt loved Corvo Bianco in autumn. For one, the mild weather was kind on his bad knee and elbow. The relatively warm temperatures - warm compared to Kaer Morhen, at least - meant that he and Yen could enjoy Marlene's cooking and a glass of wine outside with a spectacular view on the nearby vineyards. Roach could be left to graze around the estate at will. Geralt was confident his faithful mare wouldn't run away and therefore allowed her more freedom. Another perk of the mild Toussaint winters was that Yen was more willing to forfeit her sombre attires for lighter, sometimes even more colourful garments. 

That evening, for instance, Yen had opted for a short-sleeved white blouse and a parma coloured skirt revealing her ankles. She was barefoot, having discarded her riding boots in favour of running her toes through the lush grass. The leaves of the surrounding trees were changing - vibrant yellows, oranges and reds looked positively breathtaking in the warm glow of the setting sun. Geralt was lounging next to the sorceress in his white undershirt and black leather trousers. Yen's hair flowed in the gentle evening breeze and when Geralt looked up at her he felt something warm bloom in his chest. 

Gods, she's gorgeous. 

"Thank you," Yen said, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips, "aren't you the flatterer."

"Yen, you know I hate when you read my mind." 

Geralt shot Yen a pointed look, but there was no venom to his tone. He couldn't bring himself to be mad at Yen, not when the view was so beautiful and his mind felt more at peace than it had in months. After defeating the wild hunt and Ciri leaving them to assume her role as future empress of Nilfgaard, Geralt and Yen felt like they had no real purpose left in this world. The mages’ relevance was waning by the day and the necessity for witchers became more and more rare. It made sense to retire even though it felt daunting at first. It had taken Yen and Geralt several weeks to adjust to always seeing each other, to living with each other and sharing a home together. Their home, their life... Geralt could still hardly believe how lucky he was. 

Witchers don’t retire, Vesemir used to tell Geralt. If only Vesemir could see him now. 

Yen leaned down and placed a teasing kiss on Geralt's mouth, interrupting his train of thought, and her teeth grazed the tender skin of his lips, pulling a shaky sigh from him. 

"Don't think so loudly if you don't want me to read your mind."

"That's not how it works," Geralt retorted, but when Yen went to lie down next to him, her chest resting on his and her lips nibbling at his ear, all coherent thought left Geralt.

"Would you look at that? Handsome and knowledgeable. I knew I kept you around for more than just your pretty face," Yen teased, one of her hands trailing down Geralt's side as she peppered his neck with featherlight kisses. 

"I think you'll find that it's I who's keeping you around," Geralt reminded her, unable to stop himself, "need I remind you that I'm the master of this estate?" 

"Oh, I'm sorry. I shall take my leave in the morning, master Geralt, if I’m such a burden to you."

They both knew that Geralt would never let that happen. He was about to tell Yen as much when they were interrupted by the delighted squeals of a woman being chased by a young man Geralt assumed to be her lover. Yen and Geralt, fairly sheltered by the drooping foliage of the old weeping willow, watched the young couple gallivant in the fields. The young man suddenly began singing a popular Toussaint song in a voice that wasn't unpleasant to listen to. The gesture pleased the young woman so that she threw herself at him, locking their lips in a passionate kiss that was all tongue and teeth. Out of the corner of his eyes Geralt noticed Yen roll her eyes. 

"What? Don't like the sight of young love?" 

"I give it three weeks and they'll have set their eyes on different people. Or she'll be pregnant and they'll end up in a loveless marriage, all because of a fleeting summer flirtation."

"Such cynicism." Geralt's eyes were drawn to Yen's cleavage revealing her lace brassiere and a suggestion of her breasts. "Hey, Yen?" 

"Hmm?" 

"If I serenade you, will you strip for me?" 

“Charmnig.” Yen raised a perfectly trimmed eyebrow and shot Geralt a warning look, but there was mischief in her violet eyes and the shadow of an amused smile danced on her soft lips. Geralt leaned in for a kiss, which was cruelly denied. "Out here? With people watching?" 

"You're concerned about an audience?" 

"Of course not, Geralt. I'm no blushing maiden" Yen's sultry tone dropped to a hushed whisper as she leaned in to breathe her next words in his ear, "I merely don't wish to traumatise these kids with our, shall we say, unconventional tastes." 

"Hmm, does that mean the unicorn's on the table?" 

"Perhaps," Yen winked at him, her fingers coming up to untie the laces of her blouse as she locked eyes with Geralt, "but not out here. Right now I just want to enjoy the sunset, this delicious wine and the pleasure of your company."

"You can do all these things while I take care of you?" Geralt wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, pulling a warm chortle from Yen. The sorceress rose to a seated position and she then absent-mindedly began sipping at her wine. "You're just a raunchy old man, aren't you?" 

"Are you complaining?" 

"Never," Yen downed the last of her drink before tossing her cup into the basket nearby and leaning over Geralt once again, "now shut up and kiss me."

Geralt didn't need to be told twice. Despite Yen's initial reticence, they did end up traumatising the young couple. Neither of them really cared. 

[disabledrunner5]

Canton and Runner Five relationship Headcannons:

Because I realised I hadn’t done enough of these even though it’s been like 20 missions since Canton Five died (I’m on S3M19). Also this is a long one so he prepared:

Canton Five was the second person to ever meet Runner Five. I’m talking even before the apocalypse.

Because Canton Five, aka Joel Bright, is Five’s dad.

Five and Canton’s relationship was a really close one, pre apocalypse. Five actually got on better with her dad than her mum (partly because her mum was constantly worrying about her and being overly worried about her when her dad was treating her like a normal child) but that didn’t mean Five didn’t love her mum as well.

The two of them were a team.

He was the one who encouraged her to pursue acting when she got a taste of it when she was eight. (Probably because he was in a band in uni that was semi-professional and he gave up that life to have kids and always had a soft spot for the arts despite being a history teacher).

Canton was probably the most encouraging parent EVER!

Taught her to not let anything get in her way, even her physical and invisible disabilities.

The apocalypse happened and they were separated as she assumed her dad had been killed from what she saw on the kitchen, when in fact he’d just been knocked unconscious by her zombified mum and had a nasty cut on his head from the fall.

Five ends up in Mullins, thanks to her uncle (her dad’s brother thankfully happened to be in the area when the apocalypse happened and rescued Five and her younger brother and took them to Mullins where he was scheduled to be transferred to the next week, being a high ranking officer and therefore had clearance to do that) and Canton ended up in New Canton pretty quickly after banding with a couple of survivors after somehow escaping his zombie infested Villiage without being bitten and became runner Five.

Canton spoke highly of his kids at New Canton, thinking they had both died in the outbreak, and he did have friends there (Lem and Archie), although he doesn’t agree with most of New Canton’s methods and he was actually planning to defect to Abel after Chris Mcshell (another of his friends he made at New Canton) does it but he’s on the advisory council so it’s a bit more difficult to defect.

The two Runner Five’s had several almost run ins with each other (during the 5 and 10K runs in S1).

Until the 20K runs.

Where they meet for the first time in months and it took all Canton’s power not to just pull his daughter into a hug and never let go, even when she clearly didn’t want to let on that they know each other for some reason he didn’t know (she was still terrified that Van Ark would catch on, and do something- even back then, Five was extremely cautious and concerned about Van Ark)

Archie, Maxine and Sara still catch that they’re father and daughter pretty quickly though, especially since Canton actually muttered Five’s name under his breath when he met her and it’s pretty obvious when you see them side by side.

Canton is surprised to find that Five is selective mute because she was not before Z-Day, just extremely socially awkward due to her autism.

Like with Sam, Canton’s one of the people she finds it eay to physically talk with as in she can actually make words when she talks to him. Because you know, she’s his daughter.

He’s distraught to find out that his youngest didn’t make it past the first few weeks of the apocalypse but it’s kind of confirming what he thought had happened to both of his kids.

Canton figures pretty quickly that Five belongs at Abel. He sees how her face lights up like a Christmas tree when she’s with Sara and Maxine and when she sees the gates of Abel. So he makes it a note to try and defect ASAP so that he can be with his daughter. Doesn’t tell anyone about this plan though.

Then Abel township gets blown up. And he’s the one who convinces the council to let Five stay, citing there’s no proof she was the one with Lem’s earpiece.

Father daughter arguments in those weeks are fairly frequent because Five is traumatised and is assuming her friends are dead for like a week. And Canton is trying his best but in his daughters eyes he doesn’t understand.

“Alicia Emily Bright! You need to listen to the advisory council”

“Don’t call me that! And no I don’t- they‘re the ones that allowed the zombie attack to happen! They seiged Abel!”

“Five, sweetheart, it’s okay to be upset and angry, I know exactly how you feel but don’t take it out on people who are trying to help-”

“Help? How are you helping? How is anyone helping? You didn’t watch your home get blown up by a rocket launcher and watch all your friends die!”

They always apologise pretty quickly though.

When Five is reunited with Sam and the rest of the gang, Canton Five doesn’t witness it as he’s preparing for the London mission the next morning.

Before he goes to London, Canton promises Five that he’ll ask to move to Abel once he’s back from London so that they can be a proper family and made her promise not to get into ANY more trouble whilst he was away. (Also he really wanted to meet this Sam Yao bloke she’s been on about since she arrived at New Canton).

He gave Archie a envelope to give to Five in case he didn’t come back, it was his last wish. Archie let Jamie know about it in case she didn’t come back from a run.

Five tells Sam that her dad’s Canton Five after the first mission of series 2. He’s overly happy that Five still has family left although he was probably a bit worried that she’d leave Abel when Canton returned.

Canton’s last thought before he died was about his family.

Meanwhile, whilst her dad’s in London Five’s dealing with; almost being murdered by Nadia, Archie dying, being captured by Van Ark, experimented on, Sara dying and Simon betraying them.

But the only reason why she’s carrying on and hasn’t properly broken from the trauma is that she actually has hope that she can make it out alive because her dad is still alive and she can actually see a future with her and him, together again as a team.

then she adds Scraps the puppy to that future when she finds him.

She adds Sam to that list eventually after they get together when she arrives home from destroying Van Ark. and she actually can’t wait to introduce him do her dad.

Then the mission with Paula happens.

Five goes into shock when she finds out from Tony what happened to her dad, until she’s writing the report for Amelia, and Sam comes into check on her, then she just starts crying before she even realises it’s happening.

Paula takes over writing the report, much to Amelia’s displeasure and Sam spends the entire rest of the day and night comforting and holding Five in the comms shack away from any interruptions as she just lets it all out (luckily, Jack and Eugene had finished broadcasting Radio Abel by then or trying to anyway so they didn’t have to find somewhere else).

Jamie gives Five the envelope in the end.

Inside was a video tape recording from her dad and a her mother’s silver crucifix chain.

She now wears that chain on her neck everywhere.

Her and Sam listened to the video recording in Comms the night after Canton Five’s memorial, over some chocolate (a stash of Curily Wirlies and Dairy Milk bars) and with Scraps the Jack Russel Terrier laying at their feet.

And while I won’t go into what it said (I’ll do that in a fic), it told Five to keep living for him and to not let him down.

And five’s not going to let her dad down, wherever he may be.

[insanityclause]

When the veteran actress Felicity Kendal dismissed stalking as something her profession simply had to put up with she may have won admiration in some quarters for her matter of fact ‘un-PC’ attitude.

But the threat faced by her fellow performers has become so serious that their union has for the first time felt the need to issue a set of guidelines to help actors protect themselves from obsessive fans.

Equity has warned that far from being the sort of minor irritation suggested by Kendal earlier this year, it in fact has an all too “distressing and life changing” impact on its victims.

The union warns TV, film and stage actors are particularly vulnerable because their visible public profile lends some fans to convince themselves they enjoy a special “connection” with the target of their obsession.

Performers have reported stalkers lurking outside their home or workplace and pestering them with unwanted gifts, notes and photographs.

The number of performers wanting advice about dealing with stalking has gone up since the #MeToo revelations, as actors have grown in confidence over talking about sexual harassment in the industry.

Among the actors stalked in recent years has been Keira Knighltey, whose stalker left her terrified to leave her north London home before he was detained at a psychiatric hospital indefinitely in 2017, and the Coronation Street star Kym Marsh, who was sent pornographic material through the post.

As part of its advice Equity has warned performers who fear they are being stalked to turn off GPS and location tagging on their mobile devices which might allow their movements to be tracked; record unwanted telephone conversations, answer the phone by saying ‘hello’ rather than giving their name and not show emotion in the face of a stalker.

Urging victims of stalking to report the matter to the police immediately, Equity advises performers to keep a diary of any incidents and save text messages, emails and screenshots as evidence.

The guidelines, which are being distributed online and to the union’s branches, also advise actors who receive even non-threatening letters or gifts to keep them as proof of unwanted contact.

“If any of these items contain frightening or upsetting messages, again do not throw them away and handle them as little as possible. It is important that you pass these items to the police,” it states.

Earlier this year Kendal was criticised after saying that although she had experienced stalking by a number of fans early in her career, actors who found it too distressing should simple give up the profession.

The star of The Good Life and Rosemary & Thyme said of being pestered by stalkers:  “I think everybody did in those days. It was just a couple of people who came to every show and then they followed me home and they were always outside my house.

“It wasn’t serious, though. One of them was quite a sweet guy. Perhaps he was just lonely.

“Some people might be traumatised by that, but I think: ‘Well, don’t be an actress then.’ It goes with the territory to an extent. Obviously there are limits beyond which it’s frightening and terrible.

“You don’t want to be shot and you don’t want to be dragged into the bushes, but I think you instinctively know as a human being what the threshold is.”

But the guidelines, which were produced after several Equity members in its East of Scotland branch reported feeling threatened and intimidated by the obsessive activities of some fans, state: “If you are being stalked you should take action as soon as possible. Victims often delay because they feel they may be overreacting or that they may have encouraged the stalker in some way; or that they will be blamed for the situation.

“Remember you are not to blame for your stalker’s behaviour and you are not alone in having to deal with this experience.”

Matt Hood, Equity’s Assistant General Secretary, told The Telegraph: “Since the #MeToo revelations we have seen an increase in members wanting advice regarding stalking. The majority of our members are performers and it’s clear that their public profile, through television, film, stage or in clubs makes them more vulnerable to stalking than the average working person, plus the line between performance and person can become blurred.

“Our new guide aims to give our members the tools and confidence to report stalking, which is a very distressing and in some cases life-changing situation.

Although reports of stalking trebled last year, prosecution rates have plunged, according to government figures, with only around 25% of cases reported to police resulting in stalkers being charged with a crime.

BETH RYLANCE: 'There’s a part of me that will always be looking over my shoulder'

Beth Rylance, the comedy actress and star of Ministry of Curious Stuff and Sick Note, was stalked by an obsessive fan who first began pestering her on Twitter.

The man, who would tweet continually about her, reply to all her posts, call her his “woman” and post videos of her, then turned up on the doorstep of her London home in December 2014.

Rylance was left terrified.

“The panic was overwhelming and immediate. I screamed in terror, then slammed the door and ran upstairs and called the police,” said the 28-year-old. “When the police arrived he was sat on my doorstep, tweeting about me. ‘When you get over your shock, why don’t you come back down and we’ll go for coffee?’ he’d written.”

The man was arrested and eventually put on trial, where he claimed he had a secret relationship with the actress.

He was found guilty of stalking and harassment and given a two-year-long restraining order, preventing him from contacting Rylance, who first made her name in School of Comedy.

“I know I was one of the lucky ones: I got a conviction. Far too many victims of stalking don’t get any justice,” she told the BBC. “Even though I’m moving on with my life, there’s a part of me that will always be looking over my shoulder. Stalking changes you - and it changed me.”

EDDIE REDMAYNE: 'She left us distressed, unsafe and deeply unsettled'

Eddie Redmayne was stalked by a German translator stalker who bombarded the actor with love letters. Gaby Stieger, 49, was even convinced she had been married to the Oscar-winning actor in a previous life.

During her five-year stalking campaign the mother-of-two hung around the park near Redmayne’s Southwark home, tried to touch him when he was there with his daughter and spied on him through the window while he undressed.

During Stieger’s trial in 2017 the 35-year-old actor told the court how her face would “contort with rage” when she spoke about his wife Hannah Bagshawe.

Stieger first met Redmayne after seeing him on stage at the Donmar Warehouse in Covent Garden in 2012.

The following year she began visiting the set of The Theory Of Everything and trying to get Redmayne to pose in a picture with her.

She also followed him and his wife to a carol service at Eton College in December 2013.

The stalking continued and in August 2017 Stieger approached Redmayne outside his house, while he was with his baby daughter, and tried to touch his arm.

Stieger, who had moved from Germany to London to be near Redmayne, admitted one count of stalking involving serious alarm and was sentenced to four months imprisonment, suspended for two years. She was also banned from having any contact with, or coming within 200 metres of Redmayne or his immediate family.

In a statement to the court Redmayne, 37, the star of The Danish Girl and the Fantastic Beasts series, described the distress Stieger had caused him and his family, saying: “I always try to be open and friendly as support (from fans) is what gives me a career.

“I deeply regret having met Gaby Stieger - she harassed myself and my family intermittently over five years, leaving us distressed, unsafe and deeply unsettled.”

I went looking for info on Eddie Redmayne’s stalker when thinking about Sam’s legal stuff, and found this article from last year about Equity giving actors advice on dealing with fans.

[velvetv0nblack]

An open letter;

(Possible trigger warning)

I’m not even sure why I’m writing this, maybe because this theme of abuse has be something I’ve been experiencing as a third party, the person removing the victim this time, you know the role many of my friends filled within our tumultuous relationship... maybe it’s because my friends abuser is now threatening and harassing me for helpingher leave... maybe it’s because I’ve finally found my therapeutic dosage of lithium, am in a clear mind and are therefore able to reflect properly for the first time in my life... or maybe it’s because this is not an apology, I mean maybe it is if you had only been a serial cheat, but the truth is you fractured my skull and cut me open with a knife, so this is not a fucking apology. Also I’d rather rip my own eyes out of my skull, smash them with a hammer, and then inject the liquid into my ass than actually engage you in any kind of conversation, so knowing that this is the one platform you can still check for me on, I’m going to post this here... Its about time I had my say without putting myself in physical danger.

You would think I wouldn’t have an essay to correct your 3 lines of a nothing apology, but here we are I guess.

This kind of self deprecating “I wasn’t good enough for you” narrative is truly infuriating, and not because you were actually good enough for me but because of the very reasons you proved yourself not be “not good enough”. You weren’t undeserving of me because you didn’t work, I am physically incapable of doing so myself and I didn’t fall in love with you because you came across mad motivated. You weren’t undeserving of me because you took drugs, drank like a fish or smoked like a chimney, we were both purposefully killing our selves in the same way. You weren’t undeserving of me at all, until you fucked my best friend in the bathroom and collectively gaslit me into wondering if I was imagining the whole thing, and slowly but systematically broke down my confidence and support network away from me. I want this to be very clear; the reason you do not deserve me or any other decent human being is because, you are an abuser, you abuse people.

I was barely a whole person when I met you. I was barely an adult. I had lived through so much already, and had been abused in every area of my existence. I was easy pickings to you. The issue was you were not a pawn to me, a player in any game, or any of that. To me you were this fascinating, beautiful soul, to me you were someone who needed my love who needed someone to support you and I couldn’t believe that you chose me to fill that role. I was freshly 18 that month, and I had just had a flat mate steal £3k and kill my kitten.

I weighed all of 63lbs that night you lost the plot on me because I didn’t want to go to Big Red to watch that actual cunt of a waitress smile at me as she gave you lap dances, it’s not even a dance joint it was a fucking bar. You allowed other people to emotionally abuse me with you for months up until this point and I just didn’t want to go, all I wanted was the keys and I would of gone home alone and gone to bed. Why you feel the need to publicly humiliate me again instead of just leaving it? You couldn’t just go be adulterous without me watching and hurting, so you followed me home, screaming at me the whole time. You told me I was pathetic, you hated me, I should just kill myself- on a bus on a Saturday night, from the bar I worked in, in soho, back to our place near Caledonian Road. I was so unstable anyway, undiagnosed autism, misdiagnosed mental health issues, on the wrong if any medication, deep within the throws of an addiction and eating disorder... you. I couldn’t take you verbally ripping my heart out anymore when I decided that throwing myself from our 3rd story window would hurt less. The fact I could of died isn’t what made you grab me and stop me jumping, no in fact you told me you don’t care if I kill my self as long as it’s not in the flat, you were much more concerned with the amount of drugs in the flat and the prison opposite our window. At that point you threw me full pelt across the other side of the room, all 63lbs of me flew through the air like a paper aeroplane and smashed directly into your guitar. You know your beloved custom Les Paul? The headstock came off, and at that very moment despite the fact you were the one who threw me, my life was the one in danger. You started strangling me and threatening to have men come down to London to gang rape my then 14 year old sister. It gets a little fuzzy, that’s what your brain does when you experience potentially life ending trauma. I do know I ended up with stitches in my lips and hands, that you fractured my right eye socket- that I still suffer issues with to this day- and had black bruising covering my entire body like a bus had hit me.

For a couple of years there my brain completely blocked out important details of that night, and a lot of our relationship. Don’t worry though periodically I have the real type of flashback where I relive these events and I come back to reality remembering more than I ever wanted to. I’m yet to even touch on the fact that whilst I may of been able to escape you in waking life, my dreams are perpetually stuck in this horrific PTSD dream land, a town that is a mash up of all the places I’ve been traumatised in my life, the place you eternally reside inside my head to traumatise me whilst I desperately need to rest. You haven’t really left my life despite the efforts I have made to avoid you (I think I’ve seen you once, from a distance once at Download 2 years ago, my heart fell out my ass, and I dragged Camilla in another direction) I have only 2 dreams in 6 years that haven’t included you chasing me down to finish what you started and kill me or keep me captive. But that’s what trauma does, and oh how you traumatised me.

I really loved you though, that’s why I stayed, and those couple times I tried to leave before I came back. I loved you so unconditionally that it took me realising that everyone else around us was so complicit that they’d help you hide by body. To this very day I cannot believe a man, a male roommate, walked in on you pinning me into a sofa by my neck, with both your planted knees on top of my chest, full weight suffocating me, biting the end of my nose until it was blackened and he had the audacity me I needed to calm down. I have to label the guy the world biggest pussy in my head so I don’t get wound up about it.

I wasn’t perfect, I can never be perfect, I have more imperfections than most. I am severely mentally and physically unwell- I sure as hell am a pain in the ass to love- however I cannot actually think of a damn thing I did to deserve constant unending emotional abuse, threatens and follow through of physical abuse and then after I left stalking and harassment. I am difficult but I am not deserving of abuse and that’s all you gave me in the end... unless of course you “needed your baby girl to suck your dick” - that was the only time you were ever nice to me, and I know because I recently read back a bunch of our texts and you flipped between “I hate you, I’m gonna kill you/kill your self” to “I need my beautiful girl to come and suck my dick I love you so much” is actually fucking insane. - Should I bring up the fact you would bang pathetic girls on the scene and then dicknotise them into stalking and harassing me with you? Because... what I had the audacity to leave a man, of over 6ft tall, who would become violent to my 5ft 63lbs self?

So yeah, you didn’t deserve me, but not because of any self deprecating attention seeking reason but because you’re a sociopath, who seems to take pleasure in fucking with vulnerable women.

Am I happy? Now that’s a fucking difficult one to answer.

I ended up homeless on and off for a year. Despite the homelessness I had suffered before this was worse because of the place I was in mentally.

You caused me to develop complex PTSD.

You caused me to have a 3 year long psychotic break.

You caused me to live in secure supported housing, where I was prayed upon by other residents.

You caused me to fall victim to abuse within the system

Not sure if you know this but our mental health services sucks ass, after leaving you I had a delightful therapist that would text me telling to kill my self and would tell me you were right to abuse me.

But I got one thing from our relationship, I fine tuned my “four Fs” ...I no longer freeze or fight in the face of difficulty... I developed an ability to fawn.

Dead ends are no longer in my eyeline, I will metaphorically straight on walk through someone else’s house to get where I need to be, I will jump the fence, break the locks and out run any guard dog. I may fall down but I’m never out.

When I was diagnosed with multiple chronic illnesses and essentially lived in hospital for 3 years, even when I thought to end my life it was weighed out by the thought of “how do I get to a place we’re I can do even 5% of what I want? What do I have to change, manifest?”.

You see if you could only temporarily break me but not stop me then why the hell would I let my own mind and body do that? That ability to fawn came with an ability to find a middle path, to be diplomatic. That ability to fawn gave me the patience to understand medical text and use that to access the right care. ~ I am actually thinking of starting a medical degree just to prove I can ~ I am now 98lbs and healthy for my size and stature, I now have a home with a housing association who like me so much they have me a lifetime partner agreement, meaning I will never be homeless again. I have been clean 7 whole goddamn years and 2 months. I have the most beautiful empathic cat, 2 foster dogs and an incredibly patient partner, who has known me before you had ever entered my life. I am as healthy as someone in my position can be, I still struggle with the anorexic thoughts but I eat everyday of the fucking week now.

I am not “happy” as happy is an emotion and emotions are fleeting but I am content in living for the simple life I have fought ever so hard for. I am strong, and determined and constantly fucking working on making more for myself. I’m proud of myself.

All I have to say is get therapy. If you’re really sorry work on yourself enough to be able to apologise properly before you fuck my day up by rising your head again for this weakness. I can’t say I don’t have morbid curiosity, because that’s me all over, however I’m much more determined to keep all that I have work for mentally, emotionally, and physically safe. For that reason I would never in my right medicated mind talk it out with you, email you back or seek you out. I’m sorry, it is what it is.

You can not damage someone irreparably both mentally and physically and think “I’m sorry for being a cunt” even close to cuts it. You are mentally unbalanced, in a way not even I can relate to.

[phoenixfire-thewizardgoddess]

Hey guys, 

This is the local dog rescue charity that we were carers for, for several years. May do it again in future, but after Debbie (who was rescued by Precious Paws), it feels like we need a break. 

We have had three foster fails, but two puppers came through our home, learned to feel safe and loved, and went on to a perfectly matched new family.

There is always a demand for carers, so if you think you can, have a look at their Carer Info. Or look into the FB page, to keep your eyes open.

The best way to find new carers for animals is having a network of people sharing the Urgent statuses, which flags the attention of new groups of people. No dog will ever be LEFT on death row. They look for carers until the last second, but will absofuckinglutely take the dog anyway and put them in a boarding kennel short-term whilst a carer is located.

No doggo left behind.

It can be a bit confronting, though, so I understand if you cannot. The majority of the dogs have been surrendered to the pound, for various reasons, and the rescues in the region put their hands up for the ones slated for being put down each week. This list constantly refills, so there is always a need.

Some other dogs, like Debbie, are rescued directly from the disgusting human slime of the world who have caused them pain, injury, or attempted to kill them.

Carers open their homes to as many as they can, but there will always be more needed. A dog can be with you for a few months, to a few years, depending on their needs. 

Little Willow was so scared of everything when we got her, it took 5 months to get her to trust men near her due to where she came from. But after nearly a year, she was ready for adoption and went to a new mother; happy, healthy, and confident. She was fast, smart and a very delightful little doggo. I do miss her, sometimes, but her new mother sent us photos of Willow on her first and second adoption anniversaries. 

And little Gemini’s face, when her new family sent a photo from her first meeting with her human brother, was SO BIG!

It is hard to say goodbye, because they are with you for a long time, and you have to work hard with them, so they are an integral part of your life. But it helps to know that their future family is out there, not yet aware that there’s a dog shaped hole waiting to be filled.

As my parental unit says, “In reality, if they were not with us, they’d be dead. Someone without any heart dropped these animals off to be killed, and because of all these rescues, all these dogs and cats get another chance at life.”

Harvey, who we have now, was 9mths (Willow too) when they came to us. BABIES who just were too energetic or too big, so they had to be sent away. It takes a while to rebuild that trust in them.

Not to mention the absolute FUCKS who take their little old dogs, who have known and loved them their WHOLE LIVES to the pound and walk out with a new puppy (or kitten). FUCKS.  Those little doggos are never forgotten, PPARs and the other rescues make sure they have somewhere to go as well! I know of a 16yo bulldog called rosie, who was snappy when she first came and very depressed, who blossomed with her carers into a happy old girl. She was adopted recently!!!

It is important to be aware that these animals are often traumatised and have behaviours that some can consider ‘naughty’. You have to be understanding. Like traumatised kids, the worst thing you can do is yell or hit or whatever, even if they piss on your favourite rug or chew a beloved pair of shoes.

They may snap and snarl. Might shy away from men, or women, or teenagers. Might cower away, or show subservience constantly. Might hide for a few weeks. Might wet themselves or run to hide if something makes a loud noise or there is a specific trigger. They might rip up the couch twice, or hump your pillows. Try to escape the yard (need strong fences). A trigger? One of our kids was terrified of men, the noise of a powertool, and anyone having the hood of their car open. Would sit, shaking, panting in fear if these things were present. Still a bit much for her, but she knows to go to a human, who will keep her safe. Or sit with her sister doggo, who will protect her.

Willow was scared of men, shouting, and would be immediately wet-herself-afraid and show her belly in subservience. My giant bearded mountain of a sibling would lay on the floor with her, and talk gently, let her come over to sniff him. Eventually, she would lay next to him, and finally he could pat her, and it progressed from there. This took months of consistency and care.

I know of another carer couple who had this tiny little dog who was SO SCARED of everything she spent absolute months hiding under their bed or sofa. Too scared to be touched. They fed her and never made a fuss if she had a little accident indoors. And one day, she popped her head out while the male carer was pretending to be occupied... and licked his arm. That was it, went straight back under the bed. But it was a huge step. She can now be held and cuddled, and loves her little life. But it took the time, understanding and patience of these carers to get her there. It’s important to note that carers dont normally have the whole backstory for each dog, but after a while, you tend to get good at figuring it out based on behaviours. Harvey’s behaviours were extremely frantic for attention, he didn’t know how to sit or be still, he was desperate for attention; his behaviours increased when on a lead (which had to be used for the first few weeks and outside time, as this was a New Household Member time).  It was clear that given his age, when we got him, and his behaviours that he’d been an xmas gift puppy that had gotten WAAAAAAY bigger than anticipated. When he was small he’d been the fuss of what we suspect was at least 2 children. After getting too big, he was put on a leash in the yard, and had no real interaction.

Harvey would go BALLISTIC if given even a glance from a human. He NEEDED attention, and it took months of careful work with him to teach sit, stay, look, settle, back back, etc. He’s still a bit ridiculous, sometimes, but he can sleep on a bed with a human and only half drown them in spit (ugh) lmao. 

So consider if you could be a carer.  Or, if that isn’t realistic for you right now... donate.

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Donate, if you can.

If you’re in Brisbane, you might see them doing sausage sizzles at Bunnings on the weekends to raise needed funds! 

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COVID-19 hit all the rescue charities hard. Their normal fundraising was crippled by the lockdowns, but animals are always in need of new homes and protection.

If you can help out your local shelters, they’d appreciate it!

There’s food and supplies that need to be paid for; PPAWs specifically help out pensioners who take on an animal, by providing the food and toys, collar, bedding, etc. There’s desexing, microchipping and all vaccinations to be paid for. Some animals have extreme medical issues that need to be fixed (such as a dog surrendered with a broken hip, or dogs like Debbie, who were starved almost to death. Who need intensive and long-term things; with Debbie, my family put money forwards for her insulin and eye surgeries, etc. bc we could budget for it. Not everyone can, though.

There’s also little emergencies here and there that they jump in for, to assist.  [E.g early on when the caninculin levels were being sorted, Debbie had a random fit, so I rushed her in and they discovered her BSL had hit 1 - very dangerous. PPAWs got on the phone and said, “Any tests, any medication, any fluids, anything that needs to happen for that little girl, you DO IT” and they stabilised her. PPAWs also helped fund the full-day glucose testing and blood panel the next day and an overnight with the vet, that was pretty expensive. To be clear, it is expected that her starvation and new diabetes was likely to experience highs and lows, so we had bought a glucometer, and had squeezy-top bottles of honey all over the house as an emergency-response kit. When Debbie went funny, we filled her mouth full of honey and transported; which was the protocol, as was taking her medication chart (she’d been waaaay high for BSL that morning so this dip was SCARY). It took another incident before the vet decided to use an interstitial fluid monitor, and the results backed up our concerns that Debbie was having completely random highs/lows and spikes with no real pattern. She had the vet recommended food and no treats outside of the ones she was allowed, and at times suggested by the vet. Except on her last day when the vet said she could absolutely have a wholw happy meal, and little Debbie was DELIGHTED. I have the funniest photo of her with it all in her mouth looking excited but not sure where to go from there, but it still makes me cry to look at it because we lost her just three weeks ago. (We did rip it into little mouthfuls for her, though. Just to clarify.) She was placed on a higher dose, after that, and was completely stable from there. It was the testing that initially identified a flaw, though, and we are forever grateful that PPAWs stepped in on that day.

And the point of my rambling speech... is that shit happens. Especially with these dogs, cats, horses, and all the other animals they rescue.  Emergencies are often the most expensive to cover for charities.

On the upside! Donations also help with a) transporting animals to carers around the region, and b) on the occasion that an animal’s new furever family is interstate, they can be flown to them!

Lots of stuff.

Think about the mess of words, and consider donating - to PPAWs, or find out the name of your local charity and see if they need help!

[truecrimesposts]

THE TORTURE MOTHER - PART TWO - Before The Basement

Paula Baniszewski was introduced to 16 year old Sylvia Marie Likens and 15 year old Jenny Likens, who had to use braces when she walked due to surviving polio, by her friend Darlee McGuire in July of 1965. The girls were new in town, and after getting along with Paula, they were welcomed back to the Baniszewski home, 3850 East New York Street so that the girls could drink pop and listen to some records. The girls explained that their mother had left their father and ran away, bringing them with her, and that their mother had actually been arrested for shoplifting and she was being kept in the police station. The girls were invited to spend the night at the Baniszewski home so that they could meet up with their mother the following day, but this is not how this was going to go.

The next day Gertrude was paid a visit by Lester Likens, the girls father, who had been informed by the McGuire’s that his daughters were staying at her home after he traced his wife and children to town. Gertrude, as she was known to do, introduced herself as Mrs Wright, and not as Mrs Baniszewski, and Lester went on to explain the situation, and his an his wife’s new plan. They intended to take the girls and travel the US carnival circuit as Carnies. However, when Gertrude heard this, she saw an opportunity to make some cash, since her house was always so full of kids as it was, it was agreed that she would take in the girls, and allow them to stay with her for $20 a week, though it is not actually known who first suggested this.

Unfortunately, Lester didn’t feel the need to inspect the home, and if he had, he likely would not have agreed. The house had no stove or microwave, the only food kept in the pantry was stale bread and dry crackers, there were only enough plates and utensils for 3 people, not the 10 that would be living there, the home was filthy, and they had only half as many beds as they needed for the family.

Sadly, the girls were moved into the home, while their parents went off to work. The first week reportedly went by without issue, the girls attended school, school functions and church with the family, and were essentially treated just like she treated her own children. This would all change however, when Lester’s payment didn’t arrive on time. The late payment triggered an overwhelming temper tantrum, she screamed at the young girls that, “I took care of you two bitches for nothing,” and forced the girls to lie across their beds on their front with their skirts and underwear around around their ankles, and proceeded to beat the girls with a wooden paddle.

Lester and Betty Likens came to visit their children and give Gertrude the money which they owed her, but due to the fear that Gertrude had already instilled in the girls, they said nothing to their parents.

The following week, the girls decided that they wanted to get some sweets, and so in order to make a bit of cash for them, they went through rubbish and walked the streets to find bottle caps to sell for petty cash, this was quite a common thing to do for poorer families at the time, but that didn't stop Gertrude from being angry about it and accusing the two young girls of stealing. Sylvia explained the bottle caps, but that seemingly changed nothing for Gertrude, and they were once again beaten by the woman.

After attending a church social with Sylvia and Jenny, the Baniszewski children reportedly returned home to their mother to complain about Sylvia, disgusted by how much food Sylvia had eaten while there. For some reason, this sent Gertrude into a rage, furious that Sylvia would do anything to risk damaging her appearance, and crafted a cruel and unusual punishment for the teenager. Sylvia was forced to eat a hot dog which was piled high with condiments, making the teenager throw up. The punishment would not end there however, as the young girl was then forced to eat her own vomit. By this time, Sylvia's fear of Gertrude was heavily ingrained, and when her parents returned to visit them once again, Sylvia said nothing about Gertrude's despicable behaviour towards her.

The violence against Sylvia really began to intensify in August 1965, when she was reportedly heard talking about the fact that she had once allowed a boy to feel her up, infuriating Gertrude. The older woman began to scream at the 16year old, calling her a prostitute and shouting to the entire house that the teen was pregnant. But it would not end there, as she began to repeatedly kick the young girl in the crotch, leaving her unable to stand, and in desperate need to get off of her shaky feet. When the kicking finally stopped, Sylvia moved to sit on a chair, only to be thrown onto the floor by Gertrude's eldest daughter, who was actually pregnant at the time herself, shouting in her face that she “aint fit to sit in chairs”. This incident triggered a change in the house, and from this point on, Sylvia had to request the right to sit down every single time.

It was here that the abuse against Sylvia became more and more frequent and more and more aggressive, with Sylvia now reportedly being used as a ‘plaything’ for the older children, she would be beaten and often pushed down the stairs. The young girl was constantly being accused of being a prostitute, mostly by Gertrude, who had begun delivering ‘sermons’ to the family claiming that prostitutes, and in the end that women in general, were filthy.

The day after the beating where she was first accused of being a prostitute, jenny would later claim, her and Sylvia decided to come up with a plan to get vengeance against Paula, deciding to tell their classmates that they had seen Paula and the second oldest Baniszewski child Stephanie, sleeping with boys in the school for money. However, this would soon turn out to be a mistake when 15 year old Roy Hubbard, who was dating Stephanie showed up to the home and proceeded to beat Sylvia up quite badly. From this point on, with Gertrude's encouragement, Roy Hubbard would come to the home quite often, and he would actually practice his judo moves on the youngster.

In a petty retaliation against Sylvia’s rumours abut her daughters, Gertrude somehow managed to convince Sylvia's best friend Anna that Sylvia had also been telling people at school that er mother was a whore also, culminating in another violent attack against Sylvia, orchestrated entirely by Gertrude. She did the same to Paula’s friend Judy Duke, also orchestrating her beating of Sylvia. She even forced Jenny to beat her own sister, beating the younger, sickly girl until she agreed.

Also during August of 1965, the house neighbouring the Baniszewskis was purchased by a middle aged couple, Phyllis and Raymond Vermillion and their two children, and when they moved in, they saw the large number of kids next door and thought that it would be a good idea to get to know the family, in the hopes that Gertrude could babysit their two children for them. The Vermillions arranged a barbecue with their neighbours, and the family weren't exactly on their best behaviour, nor where they really were trying to hide the abuse. Sylvia was walking around the party with a strong black eye, and when questioned by Phyllis about the cause, Paula admitted to, and actually bragged about causing the wound. Not long after this conversation, under Gertrude's observation, Paula actually walked over to Sylvia, throwing a glass of steaming water into the girl's face. Phyllis and Raymond Vermillion never reported this to the police, and as far as is known, never told anyone about the concerning behaviour that they had witnessed.

Phyllis also didn't report some even more concerning behaviour that she would witness two months later, when visiting the Baniszewskis in order to borrow something from Gertrude. Sylvia reportedly walked into the room where Phyllis was waiting, dazed and confused with swollen and cut up lips and a black eye that had swollen shut. Paula, like she had done previously, bragged about how she had been the one to cause the wounds, and even proceeded to remove her belt and begin beating the young girl with it, right in front of their neighbour, and she said and did nothing to stop it.

Not too long after this,Sylvia came home from school and told Gertrude that she had been told to buy a new sweat suit for gym class, and was told that that the family couldn’t afford it. Not wanting to get into trouble with the school, and not knowing what else to do, Sylvia decided to steal a sweat suit from the school. When Gertrude found out however, she was furious, and once again twisted the situation to be about prostitution, and proceeded to kick Sylvia in the crotch over and over just like she had before. But this time, the punishment went even further, with Gertrude taking a lit cigarette and burning each of her fingertips in order to ‘cure’ her ‘sticky fingers’, and beating the 16 year old with a belt. From this point on, smokers in the house started to put out their fags on Sylvia as a reminder of her misbehaviour.

Sometime later, Sylvia went out to try and find more bottle caps to sell so that she wouldn't have to steal again and get hurt so badly, but of course in Gertrude’s mind, Sylvia had been out working as a prostitute. On her arrival home, Sylvia was told by Gertrude that Jenny her younger, more sickly sister, would be beaten if she failed to do as she was told. What she was told to do was the most twisted and severe punishment that Sylvia had been given since moving into the abusive home. She was forced to strip naked in front of Gertrude’s sons, and some of the neighbourhood boys,and was forced to masturbate with a glass coca cola bottle in front of them. Despite being humiliating and traumatising, the damage this caused led to Sylvia becoming pretty much completely incontinent, which is what caused Gertrude to first lock the young girl in the basement of the home, where the abuse would begin to worsen at an alarming rate.

[hellzyeahwebwielingessays]

The Not-So-Amazing Mary Jane Part 17: MJ is LYING to Peter (when she knows she shouldn’t)

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One of the most egregious elements to AMJ is the incredible casualness in which the story treats MJ lying to Peter. In this post I will unpack just why this is seriously out of character.

Let’s be clear. Lying to your partner is in general just not a great thing to do, especially when you’ve only recently gotten back together. Lying to your partner about potential risks to your safety, other people’s safety and crimes that have been/are being committed, really, really not a great thing to do; and that’s when your partner’s job isn’t fighting crime.

Now in fairness MJ has lied to Peter about various things over the years. However these occasions (to my recollection anyway) have rarely included Mary Jane withholding information about out-and-out criminal activities from Peter. As I’ve exhaustively demonstrated, Mary Jane understands Peter’s ‘original sin’ and shares his sense of justice.

There were two notable exceptions though, the first occurring in ASM #286.

To fill the vacuum left by the departure of the Kingpin NYC’s mobsters engaged in a humungous gang war. The war involved various costumed types including Hammerhead, Jack Lantern, the Hobgoblin, Daredevil, the Falcon, the Punisher and of course Spider-Man.

Physically and mentally exhausted from putting out fires throughout the city (as well as his recent tussle with the Punisher), Peter returned to his apartment where Mary Jane helped him somewhat recover. As he slept Lance Bannon dropped by, intending to pass on a hot tip about a major gang meet that was to happen that night.

MJ took the message but out of concern for Peter deliberately chose to not tell him about the meeting.

The meeting turned violent causing a distraught MJ to finally tell Peter about it. She was horrified by the extreme violence and placed the blame squarely upon herself.

At the end of the story an even more exhausted Peter once again returned to his apartment. MJ admitted that whilst she was frightened for his safety she also acknowledged that his heroic acts were wonderful. However as Peter collapses on the coach MJ tries to point out to him one person who did in fact die in the incident, a young rookie cop.

This incident, being unique even amidst MJ’s unique life, would stick out in her memory.

It’s a huge lesson for MJ about the horrible consequences of lying to him about potential criminal activities. Noticeably in this situation MJ knew criminals were simply going to meet up and talk to one another, which isn’t (to my knowledge) actually a crime unto itself. And yet in AMJ #1 Mysterio and his crew collectively are actively  committing various crimes (evading the law, identity theft, fraud, etc.) but MJ still lies about them.

The other example where MJ lying had horrible consequences is admittedly much more contentious.  During Howard Mackie and John Byrne’s run on both ASM v2 and Peter Parker: Spider-Man v2 they initiated two subplots regarding Peter and MJ lying to one another. In Peter’s case he lied to Mary Jane about resuming his role as Spider-Man following his seemingly permanent retirement.

In MJ’s case she lied to Peter about a mysterious stalker who had begun making threatening phone calls to her. The stalker aggressively professed ownership of her and also threatened Peter. MJ presumed (for some reason?????) that the stalker was one of Peter’s enemies and thus kept him in the dark in order to protect him and maintain the normal life she believed they had. I admit this doesn’t make much sense but that’s a discussion for another time.

These lies (from both parties) majorly contributed to a creating a big schism in Peter and MJ’s marriage. They also, obviously, harmed MJ’s mental and emotional health through scaring and upsetting her, rendering her terrified of the phone.

MJ’s upset and horror at the situation escalated when her stalker went from threatening phone calls to invading her workplace to leave similarly threatening written messages.

This was very quickly followed by more violent acts like the stalker triggering explosions in the road where MJ’s limo was driving. It is implied several cars are totalled in the explosions, potentially injuring or killing innocent people and leaving MJ’s friend Jill Stacy scared and potentially mentally traumatised.

By this time Peter and MJ had independently learned they were deceiving one another. Peter rescued MJ from the stalker’s attack prompting the couple to briefly argue over their deceptions. It was clear that during this argument they held one another in poor favour for never fessing up, further damaging their marriage.

Not long after MJ’s stalker escalated things again, this time by causing various bombings near MJ’s home and around the city. He even publicly announced he was doing it to ‘have’ Mary Jane and that more attacks would follow. The situation became so serious that the authorities became involved and confirmed that there were innocent casualties resulting from the bombings.

The stalker was so extreme though he even attacked the police station MJ was being kept at for her safety, injuring yet more people and prompting MJ to flee for her life.

Unbeknownst to her, the stalker, posing as a cab driver, picked her up. MJ realized the truth when the stalker took her to the Bugle and locked the doors. Revealing another bomb counting down, he began to ramble about ‘proving his love’ to her and made moves to touch her. MJ escaped and yelled for civilians to clear the area. She escaped just in time as the cab exploded, seemingly killing the stalker.

Obviously such an experience would be upsetting enough, but it got worse because the stalker wasn’t actually dead!

When MJ boarded a plane the stalker (posing as a civilian) drugged her, took her off the plane, then faked her death by causing the plane to explode mid-flight and murdering everyone on board.

The stalker then held Mary Jane prisoner for six months. It was implied that in that time she was confined to a singular room. Even if that wasn’t strictly speaking the case it was confirmed that in all that time MJ was totally denied human contact, the stalker not even talking to her.

She was driven to such desperation that she practically begged her captor to just speak to her. When he did she exclaimed her thanks to him in spite of the situation.

After this the stalker revealed the details of his origin, motivations and plan (which aren’t really relevant right now). These details horrified MJ, none more so than the revelation that he killed everyone on her plane and that Peter was the stalker’s real target.

When Peter showed up the stalker used his psychic abilities to place MJ into a coma, one that would’ve been permanent had he not died shortly thereafter.

MJ barely survived and was seemingly intent upon restarting her normal life. However, she was left (temporarily) traumatised by the experience. She was frightened of phones when they rang and practically had a panic attack when the door to the attic wouldn’t easily open.

In part due to this trauma MJ opted to separate from Peter, eventually heading out to L.A.

In a much later story MJ would reflect that the time they were separated was one of the worst in her life.

The entire saga of the stalker…well actually it doesn’t make sense. 

For various reasons Peter and MJ simply would never have lied to one another in the first place. Even excusing this many of their actions within that context didn’t add up.

Nevertheless it provided the foundation that later (much better) Spider-Man stories built off of and nevertheless provides at least food for thought.

Those thoughts being how the experience clearly illustrated to MJ that she made a mistake in lying to Peter.

Innocent people, her friends, her family and her husband, were physically, mentally or emotionally harmed by her stalker and her 'death'. At the very least the passengers on her plane lost their lives, though other victims of the stalker’s bombings might also have died.

MJ herself suffered a shitton of harm and emerged from the events with outright PTSD.

ALL of this likely would’ve been avoided if Mary Jane had simply told Peter or the authorities about the phone calls earlier than she did.

Whilst Mysterio and his crew might not do anything as bad to her as the stalker, it’s all too possible that they could harm someone if remained unchecked. And lying to her romantic partner is a HUGE part of enabling them to remain unchecked!

Not to mention on the most basic of levels, lying to your romantic partner is 9/10 simply bad for any healthy romantic relationship. Indeed, the stalker saga illustrated that in it’s own clumsy way but its just common sense. Outside of exceptional circumstances couples should be honest with one another. Peter has to routinely lie as a matter of practicality and yet even he  knows that in general it’s something that should be avoided, as evidenced by ASM #310.

I’m not saying there aren’t times where withholding the truth is ultimately the best option for everyone involved but AMJ is obviously not one of those times. There is a huge difference between MJ deciding to not mention that she was briefly tempted to sleep with another man when nothing actually happened...

…verses not telling him the guy who faked his Aunt May’s death is walking free.

One avoids awkward or hurtful feelings in a romantic relationship. One potentially seriously endangers innocent people.

There is a counterargument to all this though. Couldn’t MJ be lying out of concern for Peter?

Answer: Definitely not. But that’s a topic big enough to justify it’s own instalment.

P.S. I am aware MJ has at times lied to Peter about other things. But my point is there is a huge difference between a little white lie or a lie that is intended to not rock their marital boat (e.g. not telling him about Jason Jerome) compared to potential life and death stuff like the above or AMJ #1.

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Master Post

[ohtheseboysilove]

The sunflower always finds its sunlight VII [Roger Taylor x F!Reader]

Words : 4, 100 K +

Warnings : language, mention of deppression, angst, eating disorders, 

Summary :  Roger likes Reader since forever but the timing seems to just never be right for them. Reader is still haunted by her past relationship and kept rejecting Roger who know nothing about the abuses she had been victim of. After being rejected for the sixth time,  Roger thinks it’s time for him to move on…

Note : sorry it took me forever to post this chapter, this one is pretty hard but it’s important, hope you like it anyway my love !

☀ Masterlist ☀

You fell on your knees as soon as you passed the door of your bathroom, emptying the inside of your stomach, your cheeks soaking wet and your throat burning.

Donovan. You couldn’t forget the last time you saw him before he leaves for America, how mad he was when you refused to follow him. You could still feel the throbbing pain in your wrist when he twisted violently, trying to make you cave and come with him. The way he knocked out the air from your lungs when he threw you on the ground and kicked you in the ribs, shouting how much a pathetic person you were. Every of this touches, his punches, his slaps, his words which hurt as hard as he could hit...everything. Seeing him tonight just brought you six years in the past when things went down with Donovan, when you were feeling awful and vulnerable, completely lost and hopeless to get away from him.

All these efforts, sleepless nights, trying to get over him and these traumatises, everything to be swiped away in a glance in his direction. You hated the hold he still had on you.

**

It had been two months and half, seventy-five awful days of basically hiding. You were avoiding everyone, again. This was your very mature plan until Donovan go back to New York. He was here for a little over three month for meetings and stuffs for work, well that was Freddie told you over the phone. Roger called too, several times. You answered two times, telling him you were okay but needed some time alone, he was hurt, of course he was, but he didn’t push you, just accepting the fact that you and him would probably never end together. Everything in the universe was against your couple apparently.

You had spend most of your days in bed, alternating between crying and staring at the celling. Your psychologist gave you multiple sick leaves for depression. You were supposed to take medication to help you and you did it. But every time you ate something, you would go to the toilet to vomit in the same half and hour, forcing yourself to empting your stomach and all the calories your just put in you. Including these pills too. It was a vicious circle, you were feeling horrible after eating, fat and awful so you go in the toilet then regretted it deeply, knowing how bad it was for yourself and how Roger, Fred and Mary would be disappointing to see you doing that. You were suppose to be stronger than that but the presence of Donovan was making nothing but weak. The other day, you had to go to do some groceries shopping and you saw him, walking out of his hotel, just few blocks away from your place. He saw you too and smirked at you, making his way too you but you jumped in the first bus you saw, completely paranoiac about him following you to your flat. After that you didn’t put a foot out. His sick smile haunting your thoughts.

“(Y/N)!” You jumped at the sound of a yelling. You dragged yourself in the living-room, blanket around your body, even if it was the middle of summer. The noise of ferocious knocks on your front door made you shivered. Did Donovan found your place ? Was he here to pass his nerves on you like he had the habit to do before? “Please, love, open the door !”

Roger. It was just Roger. But Roger couldn’t see you right now, not in your state. You were so thin it was pretty terrifying. You looked so pale and sick, he would know right away what was going on. You had avoid him as he went in tour with the boys for two months and literally came back the week before but you always had find an excuse for not seeing him.

“Rog, I...I’m not feeling great today” You replied weakly, standing in front the door, hearing him sighing impatiently.

“The girls told me they didn’t see you for weeks, please open the door. I’m worried about you. I don’t care if you still in love with Donovan, okay ? I just want to make sure my best friend is okay” Tears gathered in your eyes at his words and you truly didn’t know what you did to deserved this man in your life.

“Please, just go” You couldn’t stand the thought of Roger seeing you so...weak. That wasn’t the person he had fallen in love with. It wasn’t you anymore.

“I’m not leaving without seeing you, (Y/N)” You stayed silent and he sighed again. “Well, you don’t leave me any choice, move away from the door” He instructed you and you furrowed your brows, lost.

“What are you going to do ?” You heard him walked away. “Rog ?”

Then suddenly a loud collision echoed across the hall of your building, making your door shake. Then followed by a yelp of pain and a stream of cursing.

“Shit! Shit! Shit! This shit hurt!” You didn’t think twice and opened the door, finding Rog with a grimace, a hand resting on his shoulder.

“Did you just try to break the door ?” You asked incredulously. “Are you okay ?”

“I’m fine” He grunted and immediately made his way inside your flat, making you swear loudly. “It always work in the movies” The drummer complained as he looked as his shoulder which was red and a bit swollen. “Idiot”

You picked up ice in the freezer and wrapped it in a dish towel before pressing it to Roger’s arm.

“It should be okay, Rocky Balboa” You teased with a soft smile, forgetting for a second your messy life. Roger tended to have this effect on you, making you forget your problems with his silliness and endless happiness, totally contagious.

The drummer chuckled slightly at your terrible joke and glanced at you, his eyes detailing every inch of your face and appearance. His smile fell at the sight of your hollow cheeks, the way your collarbones was popping out from your thin frame. You gaze fell on the floor. Weak. You felt so weak. Once again you caved to your demons, after promising your friends and yourself you wouldn’t do it again. Roger’s hands slowly pushed the blanket from your shoulders to the ground, you didn’t move in protest, letting him discover your fragile frame. You were wearing a top and a short, an old pyjama, and you felt so exposed at this moment. The blond’s gaze wasn’t invading, neither was disgusted by what he saw. It was Roger, after all, he wouldn’t make you feel like this. His large palm grabbed one of your hand, his fingers caressing your wrist, thin and looking ridiculously small in his grip. The bracelet you had on since you were a teenager was hanging too loosely on your wrist, falling until the middle of your hand. The drummer saw you in these short a good thousand of time, they would normally hugged your thighs but right now you were floating in them, they were falling on your waist and you were pulling them up in absent-mindedly gesture. They looked like they were two size bigger than what you usually wear. It broke Roger’s heart to see you like this. Again. You looked back at him, shame and guilt shinning in your eyes and Roger’s heart squeezed at your distress gaze. Like you were almost afraid of his reaction.

“Oh love...” He breathed out before wrapping you in a careful but loving embrace as you melted against him, finding yourself incredibly relieved by his reaction. You couldn’t bare any more negative emotion in your life.

“Don’t be mad, please” You whispered against his shoulder, feeling even smaller between his arms. “I know I promised you it wouldn’t happen again but I don’t know, I’m just feeling so bad these past weeks, I don’t know what is wrong with me–“

“Hey, hey, look at me” His digits gently cupped your chin, your gaze falling in his as he softly shook his head. “I’m not mad at you, never. And nothing is wrong with you. I know it’s not your fault, love but you need help, okay ? I won’t stay there and look at you destroying yourself like the other time. I never want to see you in a hospital bed again, it killed me” His voice was firm but still sweet. “Never again, (Y/N)”

“I’m so sorry” You sobbed, guilt eating you alive. You felt like you betrayed Roger, you were making him sad and worry about you again. And you were selfishly relieved to have him with you, years after years, still by your side. “I’m gonna do better, I swear”

The drummer gently walked you to the sofa, immediately pushing you back in arms when you both sat.

“I care so much about you my love, so much. I just want to be healthy and happy, that all I always wanted for you” He murmured against your head, arms wrapped back around you and you never felt so intimate with Roger than right now.

He had and could see everything in you. Every little flaws. He saw you at your best and worst like no one ever did. He was the closest person to you. Ever. He knew everything thing about you. Stupid thing like your menu at McDonald. The way you took your tea, never without honey and a drop of milk. Other stuffs only people very close to you knew. How hard the divorce of your parents affected you. How heartbroken you had been when you lost your cat after more than a decade of love. He saw you in every drunk state possible and shared most of the moment when it had happened. He held your hairs when you puked. More time than the other way. You were always the first to hear about new rhythm or songs for album. Or you had been for a while. Roger was the person who knew you the best. Except the darkest and most traumatic part of your life. He would go crazy if he knew what you hid from him for years. You felt guilty to keep that for you when you knew he practically told you everything about himself.

Roger held you for what it felt like hours. You were hanged on him like a koala to a tree, he was your safe place. His lips softly pressed a kiss on the top of your hairs, his fingers absent-mindedly brushing your upper arm. You couldn’t stop yourself to think about how everything could have been different if you would have go out with Roger rather Donovan. You wouldn’t have been so destroyed but Roger would have probably broke your heart and he would be out of your life for sure. It wouldn’t have been a good idea. The thing you regretted instead was to had run away during your and Roger’s first date. Almost three months ago. And Roger still thought you were in love with Donovan. And even with that, he was here with you, caring about you. Sometime you really hated yourself for the way you treated him.

“About last time Rog, when we saw hum Donovan, I’m sorry I ran away, I’m a horrible person–“

“No love, don’t apologise okay ? You can’t control feelings” He gave you a little smile. Sad but not bitter. He made peace with himself about your feelings. He loved you. You loved Donovan. That wasn’t the ideal for him, at all, but the only thing that matter right now for him was for you to be in his life. Even if it was just as a friend. He loved you too much to lost you over stupid feelings. And seeing you in this distress state today, it only motivated him more. You needed a supportive friend, someone to help you go through, you didn’t need drama or distraction. You needed to focus on yourself.

“Of course I need to apologise Roger, I keep breaking your heart again and again and I hate myself for that–“

“Don’t say things like that. You’re the most wonderful person I ever met, you just make mistake like everyone but please, don’t hate yourself. Not because of me or nothing else” You opened your mouth to replied but Roger gently shushed you. “I love you, more than everything. You’re my whole world and even if you don’t love me back, not like I want too, our friendship is enough to me. Whatever you give me, I’m taking it” A large lump was obstructing your throat as emotions were overwhelming you, his eyes were screaming all the love he had for you, it was almost too much. Why you ? He could do so much better. “Please, don’t cry” He joked when your eyes became teary. “No need to okay ? I don’t care if you still love Donovan, I’m still gonna be around for you, as long as you want me too. The most important thing now it your health, don’t torture yourself about feelings. Just think about you, for once”

You nodded, knowing he was true.

“Roger, I just need you to know that I don’t have any more feelings for Donovan” You weakly replied. You needed to tell him at least that. “But I really have feelings for you, I’m still confused about them...but, Donovan and I, it’s over. For good” You added with a shaky breath, curling your fingers around Roger’s. A huge weight left your shoulders after your confession. It was probably the best you could do for now.

The drummer scratched his chin, keeping a straight face. He shifted a bit in his seat but his fingers pressed back your hand. A light squeeze, meaning I understand.

“Remember what I just say ?” He chuckled. “The next months will going to be only about you and your health, nothing else. I’m not doing this because I except something from you in return, I just want you to be better. We could...talk about whatever this is between us later, okay ? Not now. Not in your state” His lips curled into a light smile, matching yours. “I just need you to get better”

“I can do that” You answered with relief. “I will get better”

“And I will help you”

**

Two months later,

Roger closed his eyes, the sound coming from the bathroom making him winced. You did it again. For the third time in two weeks he walked in your flat, finding you make yourself puke in the toilet. He tried his best to help you during the past two months but it was harder than he thought. He wasn’t qualified to help you. He couldn’t have an eye on you at every minute of every day. You weren’t doing better. In fact you were doing worse. The guilt of betraying Roger every time you caved making the whole process harder than anything else. You felt pressured to do better. And you weren’t good at it.

The blond sighed, a strong feeling of desperation drowning him. What could he do to help ? You were seeing your psychologist more than usual and you said it was really helping but it wasn’t enough. Roger told Freddie about the situation and convinced all of your and Roger’s friends to pretend everything was okay, the last thing you needed was judgmental glances. You weren’t going out a lot anyway. Barely leaving your house and never without Roger either. Freddie was furious. He wanted to help you but the drummer was afraid it would make the situation even worse, more people to please would only scare you off.

But Roger could see the situation slipping from between his fingers. You frame seemed to be thinner every time he saw you. He felt helpless. Maybe because of his feelings he was too tender with you. Maybe it could be even worse. But he tried so hard to be comprehensive, reassuring you every time you weren’t doing good. You needed support but he was perhaps not firm enough. The situation was becoming threatening for your own safety. The sound of the flush made him raise his head to see you walked out, your hands stabilising yourself on the wall because of weak was your body. Head spinning all the time. Dizziness when you stood up. You were so drained of your energy, looking less alive every day. You had troubles to sleep but your pills for the depression was making you sleepy most of the time. The exhaustion was killing you.

“We need to talk” Your heart jumped at the sudden voice breaking the quietness of your flat. Your stomach churning at the sight of Roger, shoulders down and features covered in worries. “Come here” He helped you sat on the sofa, your body shaking a bit.

“I’m sorry” You murmured. “I did it again, I’m so sorry”

“I know you are, love” Roger took a deep breath. “But we can’t continue like that. It’s not working. You’re digging your own grave and I’m fucking useless” You shook your head, refusing to accept the truth.

“I’m going to do better, I promise Roger. I just need more time” You sniffled, hating to make him feel not helpful. It wasn’t true.

“You need help. Real help my love.” The drummer murmured softly, he sounded sorry and it scared you. “I did some research and I found some places where they helped people who have trouble like yours” The blond avoided your gaze and the fear in it as you processed his words. He took off from his jacket’s pocket three different flyers and put them on the coffee table. “All of these establishment have available rooms, individual one if you don’t want to share it with someone. They’re all in London, I could come seeing you every day, they have gardens and the third one have even medical dogs ! They’re here to help you feeling better and I know you love–“

“No, I don’t want to go Roger, please don’t make me” You breathed loudly. “I’m not sick, I don’t need to go there, I want to stay at my home” You pushed away Roger’s hand when he tried to put it on your forearm, this wasn’t an option.

“I can’t force you to go there (Y/N) but I really think you should. Freddie agree with me” He pinched his lips and forced himself to stay unaffected by your teary eyes, knowing it was the last solution for you.

“No” You shook your head. “I won’t go there or any of these places, never” Roger’s answer didn’t reach your ears, you were completely ignoring him, anxiety raising thought your chest at the thought of being placed in one of these health center with strangers. “I’m fine, I’m going to do better, I know I will”

“But you’re not (Y/N) ! You’re killing yourself ! Slowly but you’re fucking are ! You’re not doing better, you need help ! ” You blinked a bit at Roger’ sudden outburst. His jaw clenching hard, he was nervous and worried for you, thinking about it every second of each day and it was affecting his sleeping schedule. He couldn’t focus on the new album because you’re the only thing in his mind. Doing his best to find a way to help you. And that was his last shot. Well, almost. But he was certain that was the best option. “Please, (Y/N), do it for me. I can’t see the woman I love starving herself to death, don’t ask me to do that” His tone was soft again, his hands wrapping yours, eyes begging you.

Your bottom lip was quivering, tears threatening to spill from your eyes and Roger felt his determination weakening, he hated when you cried. Especially when he was the one to make you cry.

“Roger, please no. Let me another chance, I’m gonna stop, I will do whatever you want but please don’t send me in one of these place, please !” Panic was flowing through your veins, if Roger gave up on you, how could you believe in yourself to heal ? This wasn’t a good solution for it. “I can’t go there, please don’t make me ! Please Roger !”

You begged and cried and pleaded your cause for a solid five minutes before the drummer caved in. You were going hysterical, completely panicked about Roger forcing you to go. He couldn’t witness you torturing yourself about it. This was suppose to be your decision in the end.

“Shush, love, that’s alright. If you don’t want to go, you won’t. I would never force you into anything you don��t want” You breathed a little better when he said that. He made you put his head on his lap, fingers brushing gently your hairs. He hummed softly, waiting patiently for you to calm down. “You’re feeling better ?”

“I’m okay” You replied, your cheeks soaked with salty tears but your breathed was slower.

“Listen, love...I was serious when I say we need to do something about your health” You sat up next him, nodding in agreement. “I thought about something...if you don’t want to go in one of these health center then I want you to come and live with me” Your eyes went round like Roger expected. “I need to have an eye on you most of the time, love, that the only way for now. I can’t trust yourself all alone, I know you understand it”

“I know” It was true, you dove right back every time Roger left you all by yourself, didn’t matter how hard you tried. You were weak and needed a constant support. “But Roger...living at your place, it’s a lot. I don’t want to invade your space, I’m going to be a burden all the time” You explained, the idea was good but what if he get bored of you ? Having you all the time around was going to annoying him.

“Jesus (Y/N), I want you to invade my space ! I fucking love you !” He closed his eyes for a second, cursing under his breath. He promised himself to stop talking his feelings for you, that wasn’t important at the moment. “It’s not negotiable (Y/N)” He added, brushing away his past words. “You move in with me and I’m gonna take care of you, at my conditions” You could read on his face how bloody serious he was. “Your way didn’t work so now, we’re gonna try under my conditions. I’m gonna make sure you’re eat, take your pills and sleep properly. You’re gonna hate me at the end but if it the price for you to go better, I’m okay with it. What about you ?”

You observed him for a minute. Dark rings under his eyes, paler skin than usual, nails bitten until blood. You knew he was worrying too much about you and it was affecting his own health. As well as his personal and professional life. You owned him a lot and if he wanted to watch you twenty-four hours, you would let him.

“I...I can do that. If you’re sure, I will move in with you and do whatever you think could help me” The blond relaxed a bit at yours words.

“Good. One more thing (Y/N)” He swallowed as you looked at him, encouraging him to continue. “If my way not work, if in few weeks nothing changed...you need to promise me you will go in one of these health center. If I can’t help you more, you need to let professional help you” He added in breath, his baby blue eyes looking firmly at you.

You chewed your lips nervously. Your fingers rubbing slowly your shoulders, thinking about every reasonable answer to this. The shape of your collarbone was too prominent under your shaky fingers, you hated it. You didn’t like either the little black dot which was dancing in your vision most of the day. Or how every movements required much more energy you had. You wanted to go better, you needed to.

“If I’m not doing better at your place...I will go to the health center with the dogs” Roger smiled softly at your involuntary grin at the word dogs.

“Pinky promise ?” The drummer hanged his smaller finger in the air, wiggling it in front of your gaze.

You giggled quietly at the childish gesture.

“Pinky promise” You repeated, your own little pinky wrapping around Roger’s, sealing the promise.

**

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[prorevenge]

How I stopped my co-workers and I being bullied, by outing that awful woman as a serial sexual assaulter. TW mentions of sexual assault.

I think this is a pro-revenge, if not tell me and I will post it elsewhere!

Also, this will be a long one... I am very verbose, and it spills over into text too!

A long time ago I worked for a fast food place that has a very noticeable “golden” (bright yellow usually) symbol.

The People Involved:

Me: a 17-19 year old male living in a medium sized town in the UK. (I am now old, relatively, damn, how does that happen? :) ) Also a giant toker at the time, had dreadlocks and smoked almost everyday.

Bitchqueen: a hostile, but shockingly beautiful, and thoroughly nasty human woman, approx 19-23 ish during all this nonsense.

TheBigMan: a 2nd assistant manager who I got on really well with from day one. He took no shit from bullshitters, had zero tolerance for Bitchqueen (his usual greeting was something like “Hey Bitchqueen, who are you going to pick on today?”) and if he saw her bullying someone he would just walk in between her and the victim and bend down to stare in her face. She would walk off and pretend nothing had happened. More than once he stated if BQ were a man she would have been beaten senseless by him by now. He hated violence, but she was really awful! Also he was a bit of a unit. As in 250lbs of muscle and a gym obsession long before it was cool! Also a fairly big smoker, we used to get high after work a lot with some of the other employees.

AwesomeManager: my stores 1st assistant manager, who was a wonderful women who helped me as a human a lot in a huge number of ways. Protecting me from Bitchqueen was only part of it.

Senior Area Manager: who I will call SAM, since all the actual Sam's I have know have all been good dudes too! Also a great protector from the BS of BQ.

MonsterBitch: the new store manager and the proximate cause of her own, and BQ's downfall. Also a troll faced harridan who oozed hate and bitterness.

So time to tell the tale of how it panned out.

I had been there a year or so before Bitchqueen was promoted to manager. Until then she was obnoxious but powerless, but somehow, after marrying the store manager she got a promotion (jumping the next two steps up at that) to second assistant manager. Surprising eh?

I had been warned by TheBigMan when I was first hired to never be alone with her as she had a number of young men fired for “groping” her by her Store Manager-BF/Fiancé/Husband (even when the video showed that there was no close contact let alone groping in some of those cases . I was super careful in this regard.

Bitchqueen started playing games with the rota against me and a few others she hated. I think she hated me because I got along with most people, and she always hated sociable and non-bitchy people. Her favourites got the best shifts and the people she hated had our hours cut and shifted about without warning. She would pencil in changes a few minutes before a shift started (I caught her doing it but her store manager husband didn't want to deal with it) and then send home the one who turned up for their (now given away) shift with a warning. She would then call up and scream at the one who was off, but now suddenly on shift, for not arriving when they had no idea the shift was changed. It's sort of genius really, getting two workers Bitchqueen hated in one blow! She did try this crap on me but I just called Awesome Manager and she checked the computer records and sorted it out, she also let Bitchqueen know she was going to be checking the rota daily and approving all changes, so Bitchqueen had to find a new tactic.

I was a pretty hard worker (it made the time pass quicker for me) and was friends with the AwesomeManager (and TheBigMan), who protected me from Bitchqueens bullshit almost all of the time, and would fix things when shit happened while AwesomeManager was off work. I also cultivated a good relationship with with our SAM, and he ended up setting up a special store rescue team to sort out failing (franchise usually) stores in the area, placing me in charge of it as the top trainer of the group (Bitchqueen was maybe 7 months into being a manager at this point). This made me more or less untouchable (as long as I kept my nose clean) and so Bitchqueen went mental. She started on my friends, bullying and abusing them in work, and trying to get them all written up. They told me and I told AwesomeManager, she slapped Bitchqueen down again, metaphorically of course. TheBigMan made some complaints about her treatment of the other staff and she calmed down a little. Until her husband got “promoted” to a different store some distance away. Later SAM admitted this was an attempt to calm the drama at our store... But how wrong it all went!

Our new store manager was a MonsterBitch, but good at hiding it to begin with. After a few weeks AwesomeManager noticed that only young women were getting accepted after interviews, and pointed this out to Me and TheBigMan, and asked us to keep out eyes and ears out for anything dodgy going on. It wasn't long until it became clear what was happening.

I had made pretty good friend with one of the new hires (I admit it, I was interested and she was hot ), I will call her ShyNSweet, she was a lovely but very sheltered young lady from a nearby village, living in a house share in the town we worked in. She went out with “the girls” a group centred on MonsterBitch, Bitchqueen and a couple of MonsterBitch's “friends” on a Friday, and the next day in work was really distracted. We finished at the same time so I offered ShyNSweet a lift (that is I gave her a ride home in my car for our American friends) and she said yes since we lived pretty close together. In the car I asked if she had a fun night (just asking to fill the time, I wasn't digging at this point) and she replied in a very non-committal way. I remembered her saying she had a great time to Bitchqueen earlier during our shift so I asked her if she was OK. She burst into tears and told me that she had been the back of a Taxi with MonsterBitch and one of the “friends” (Bitchqueen was upfront) and MB and the friend had been groping ShyNSweet really hard (she showed me some bruises on her sides and thighs later, she said she had more on her boobs) and telling her she had to go back to their house and “experience real sex”. I was livid! But I tried to be outwardly calm. I told her that they should be punished, and I would support her, and I knew that SAM, AwesomeManager and TheBigMan would all have her back. I recommended we go to the police, but she was afraid she would lose her job. I knew she wouldn't, but couldn't convince her quickly and I didn't want to traumatise her further, so I just said what ever she chose I would support, and to call me if she is ever in a similar situation and I will come get her. She hugged me for ages crying and we went and had a cup of tea in her house. Her flatmate knew something was up and I encouraged ShyNSweet to tell her too. She did and I left after making them more tea.

I had to do something, but I couldn't directly involve ShyNSweet, and although I knew SAM, AwesomeManger and TheBigMan would believe me I had no direct evidence of an assault. So what to do? Well the first thing was to check where I stood legally, and it turns out the UK is a one party consent recording jurisdiction. As long as I am in place with no reasonable expectation of privacy I don't have to inform anyone I am recording audio or video, at least according to the lawyer I asked who is a friend of my step-father. Work counted as no expectation of privacy, so I was good to record everything. Of course back then the smallest video cameras were the size of a small shoe box and really expensive, and I was a burger-chucker, so cash was tight (smoking a lot of weed didn't help there either). But you could get some reasonably cheap audio recording stuff, that with an ok microphone could be hidden in my shirt. So I started a log of Bitchqueen and MonsterBitch's antics in the store, it was nearly 8 months of recordings in total before the fan was struck by faeces. While they didn't direct much at me anymore I was able to capture multi-minute rants from both of those awful harpies on almost every shift for about six months, in one recording I got Bitchqueen ranting at a co-worker for about 20 mins and then me for another 30 mins or so after I redirected her towards me. They would call workers (almost always men, but any woman who had turned them down got some shit thrown their way too), stupid, useless and worthless etc, with lots of fun adult words mixed in. They also got into the habit of threatening everyone they dislike with firing.

I also got a lot of audio from young women about how creepy and sexually inappropriate MonsterBitch, Bitchqueen and their little gang of “lesbian” managers (most of them were or had dated men, so Bi I guess, but horrible humans regardless of their orientations) were to the women who worked for us. I got several direct statements about female co-workers being abused and told to keep quiet by the abuse gang members on various girls nights out, and a few of them referred to bad things happening at MonsterBitch's house when they were too drunk to remember everything. Basically we had a blackmail and rape gang operating in our midst!

The final attack on me came when I was called into work by AwesomeManager and told I was being investigated for smoking weed on shift. While I did smoke a lot of weed at the time I never went to work high (food you get fired for eating without permission and the munchies don't mix), and anyway that day in particular the accusation was dated was one where I hadn't had any for a couple of days or been able to sort any out for a smoke after work either. So I was totally truthful when I was asked about it by AwesomeManager, and she said that because of the bullying she was escalating this to SAM, so she “suspended” me on full pay pending an investigation. The next day SAM called me and asked me to come for a formal interview, as the first part of the information finding process. He also said TheBigMan was on shift and would be happy to be my witness. So I went down and sat in the crew room waiting for SAM with TheBigMan. SAM stuck his head around the door and said “Deny everything to do with weed!” and winked. He stepped out again and then opened the door with a serious face and asked myself and TheBigMan to come through to the back office. We went through a few questions and I answered everything truthfully (pretty sure SAM thought I was smoking that day but gave no fucks about weed) and the interview ended with SAM reinstating me, paying me for the previous day and the interview day and giving me another store to fix for two weeks to get me away from Bitchqueen and the pack of harpies.

When I was back from the failing store, but not working that Monday, I got a call from ShyNSweet. MB and BQ had told her she had to come to their “Girls only” house party that Friday (it was going to be a BBQ and probably a lot of raping drunk girls by hostile lesbians). The rape gang had been telling all the attractive girls to go to the party or “think about finding a new job if you can't be a team player”. (MB, BQ and another horror worked at our store, the other 3 worked at a nearby store)

And that was the straw that broke the proverbial camels back! I had those awful bitches!

I had organised the audio files into groups by person and topic, I had over 10 hours of insults and abuse recorded and I had nearly another 10 hours of staff telling me how they had been abused by BQ, MB and their pack of rapists.

I called SAM and told him I had to speak to him that day, he agreed and we met at a competitors store (I think they have a kingdom of burger chuckers ;) ) at lunchtime where I sat him down in front of my awful (at the time super cutting edge lol) laptop and had him listen to bits of the rape allegations first.

He started shaking with rage after about 30 seconds, stopped it and told me to go to the police.

I then started on the abusing rants messages and he listened to bits of a bunch of them and asked for copies of those files. I had already burned them to CD so I handed them over and went to the police station.

I asked for a woman police officer and had her listen to the abuse allegations. She took a CD copy of those and told me to be quiet while the investigated. I said fine, but that this Friday the rape gang would have a number of under 18's at an alcohol fuelled rape party. She asked for and got the address and details. I passed on the names of all the women who I knew for sure had been attacked in the past too, since the police wanted to contact them to confirm things, the police here never give out witness information so I was safe from retaliation.

The next Thursday I was on a late shift, so I arrived around 15:15 and when I got there the store was shut but the staff were inside. I got let in and told what had happened.

MonsterBitch and Bitchqueen had been on day shifts and were apparently non-stop talking about how great their girls only party would be, how any girl who had a boyfriend would dump him after spending the night with them, and how any women who didn't attend were basically traitors to womankind. After about 6 hours of this, and at around 14:00 6 police officers come into the store and arrest MonsterBitch and BitchQueen on suspicion of sexual assault, blackmail, extortion and assault. They were both removed in handcuffs and SAM was there just after the police to shut them out of the computers and officially suspend them. When I arrived they were just getting set to re-open so we got back to work.

Later I got more info on the case, my best friends older brother was in the police force locally and he kept us updated. MB's rape house was raided, the police found lots of videos of what was clearly assaults on drunk and non-consenting women. They got lots of text message evidence for planning sexual assaults and talking about how to control young female employees to get them to have sex with the rapists. They also had lots of threatening messages to victims to be quiet or face revenge/loss of job etc. All their victims were under 20, with most being 16-18. But the deepest fuck up for them came from this evidence, and I had no idea when I got this all in motion.

MonsterBitch had picked up a young woman from a club a few months earlier. This young lady was up for lesbian sex with MB, BQ and another friend, while a fourth on filmed it. But the young lady was 15 and just looked over 18 with makeup etc. So the rape gang had produced child porn inadvertently.

MB, BQ and all the other managers who were involved were fired after the arrests/charges.

They were all charged with a number of things, but the courts back then were even more lenient to female sexual offenders than they are now, so none of them saw prison. But they were all banned from working with children, or in an environment where children will be present, and the ones who were married/in a relationship were all divorced/broken up inside a year. Because of the UK laws at the time they were also not named publicly.

I know Bitchqueen never really recovered or grew past this, I see her now and again if I visit my mother, and she is still beautiful, but so clearly broken its almost sad.

ShyNSweet was my girlfriend for a year or so a few years later, we parted on good terms as she was off to study overseas.

AwesomeManager went on to be a store manager, and then a Pro Dominatrix, which wasn't a real surprise to me ;) She was/is a fun lady

TheBigMan, went on to run an IT dept in a large company, still a top bloke!

And I ended up in a field I love, being paid actual money to more or less mess about all day, and that is doing my job! :)

(source) (story by burgerchucker)

[rossbowkerdigitalart]

Following the end of World War 2, Cole Phelps, a decorated USMC veteran of the Pacific campaign, returns home to Los Angeles, California, to live with his family while taking on work as a patrol officer for the LAPD. After solving a major murder case in 1947, Phelps is promoted to detective and ovee the next six months earns a reputation for solving challenging cases for Traffic and Homicide.

Upon being promoted into Vice, he becomes involved in the investigation into morphine syrettes being sold on the street, stolen from the ship that brought home his former marine unit. During this time he falls for German lounge singer Elsa Lichtmann, and soon has an affair with her. Phelps eventually learned that several members of his former unit stole and distributed the stolen morphine, only to be assassinated on the orders of Mickey Cohen, who had controlled the drug trade and had resented the competition.

Phelps' partner in vice and corrupt cop Roy Earle, helps several prominent figures in the city cover up a major scandal by exposing Phelps' adultery before he can further question Courtney Sheldon, a member of Phelps' former unit, over his involvement of the stolen morphine. In exchange, Earle is given a place in a syndicate called the Suburb redevelopment fund (SRF)- a development program that supplies housing for veterans, financially supported by the same people.

Phelps' marriage ends, he is disgraced within the LAPD and is demoted to Arson, where he tasked with investigating a number of suspicious house fires. Despite noting a string connection between them and a housing development that the SRF operates, Phelps is warned off by Earle from pursuing the syndicate and its founder, tycoon developer Leland Monroe. Seeking help to investigate the development, Phelps prompts an old comrade, Jack Kelso, now an investigator for California Fire and Life insurance company, to look into the matter

Kelso quickly discovers that the development is using unsatisfactory building materials, and that his boss Curtis Benson, a member of the SRF, is insuring them dispite this fact. After nearly being killed by Monroe's thugs, Kelso agrees to be an investigator for Leonard Petersen, the Assistant District Attorney, advising him to pursue the SRF. Following a shootout at Monroe's mansion, Kelso learned that the syndicate used a mental patient of Dr. Harlan Fontaine, a member of the SRF, to burn down the homes of holdouts who would not sell to them. Eventually, his patient accidentally killed innocent people in a fire and lost his mind.

After the Patient murders Fontaine and kidnaps Elsa, Phelps discovers that Sheldon stole the morphine to unwittingly find the SRF, only to be then murdered by Fontaine, who had misled Sheldon about his intentions for the stolen morphine. Through a newspaper cutting, Phelps discovers the syndicate was merely a front to defraud the US Federal Government—Monroe acquired land with money invested by the syndicate, building matchstick houses on them to increase their value, knowing the government would later purchase the plots for a new freeway.

Kelso later discovers Fontaine's patient was IRA Hogeboom, a flamethrower operator from Phelps' unit who was traumatised after burning out a cave in Phelps' orders, only to find that the cave was a makeshift hospital full on civilians; Hogeboom took Elsa into the Los Angeles river Tunnels. Phelps and Kelso pursue Hogeboom, fighting through corrupt police officers and thugs, as a heavy rainfall begins. The pair rescue Elsa, and Kelso kill Hogeboom to end his suffering. As the water rises, Phelps sacrifices his life to save the group.

L.A. Noire was actually my main inspiration, besides the Witcher 3: Wild Hunt, to do a video game concept. Granted, lots of the things that inspired me, such as gameplay mechanics, environments and story telling, I won't be able to recreate or use due to the limited amount of time of the project and my developmental skills, but it doesn't stop me from using them as part of the context I'm using for my actual outcomes.

So, talking about the aspects of L.A Noire that I would adopt into my own game if I were able to actually create it, the first thing I would impliment would be the mechanics that revolve around solving crimes, such as the interrogations as well as the collection and handling of evidence. In the game itself, when you enter a crime scene, you are able to handle and example key pieces of evidence that drive the case forward and whilst examining the evidence you can find hidden details that will further aid you in solving the case. Whilst interviewing and interrogating witnesses and suspects, you must question them about the evidence you have found and by looking at their facial expressions, you must decide whether they are lying and you must give them the appropriate conversational response.

I think these mechanics would be rather interesting in the context of a private investigator looking for a evidence about a hidden cult and then being able to interrogate their members about the cults actions. Granted, it wouldn't be the first open world game to have this ability examine objects in the environment, but in most games it is used it's a rather hollow and 2D feature which doesn't do much other than to act as a way to view a collectable, in my game I'd want it to be a way of progressing the story, make the objects and the mechanic itself have meaning, not unlike L.A Noire, but maybe with aa bit more deptj. This video game mechanic is such a great tool for story telling and I'd really want to take advantage of it given the chance.

To make this post more relative to my actual final outcome, I want to take a quick look at the weapons used within the game, because I've created a couple of weapon models that would be within the conceptual game of my Final Major Project.

First off, all of the firearms within the game were chosen and designed from real life weapons that would exist and be in used at the time the game is based in. They were also chosen because of their accessibility to the LAPD police officers, so most of the weapons are either semi-automatic rifles, low calibre automatic firearms, and the majority of the weapons are simple handguns, which are still commonly used by American police officers today.

Due to the clearly deliberate choice of the weapons in the game, the concept designers must have done extensive research on what police officers of the time would have, this is proven by aforementioned type of firearms, as well as where they were made, because of the fire arm models within the game are/were produced in the United states.

Attention of detail isn't exclusive to the firearms, its within every aspect of the video games visuals to make sure the player is immersed in the time period, everything is designed within the style of that period. In L.A. Noire specifically, everything is designed to look like the 40's, from the buildings, to the cars, to clothing the characters wear.

[werevulvi]

"It IS the transition that makes trans people men and women. And now you have to do it again. That sucks! I know you've already paid your dues with dysphoria, and having to do it from the other side has to be hell. You did in fact transition into a man, and now you have to transition into a woman. It's going to be hard work to live as a woman, even though you are a natal female. I know you're a woman, but there are people out there who are going to clock you as a trans woman, and some of those people are going to think of you as lesser for it.

I've met and interacted with a lot of people like you, Laura. Detransitioned, lesbian women. And several ID'd as lesbians while calling themselves men. They became distraught, because they were not interested in the straight women who were now interested in them, they were interested in gay women. Because they were gay women."

I don't know how to reply to that. So I did try to start a conversation about sexual attraction going to sex not gender in a transmed group few days ago and well... I did get replies eventually. I got this (chopped from a much longer reply) from a friend of mine, and although I know he means well, and althout I know it was I who brought up my detrans struggles in terms of my (and others) sexuality and I should suit my stupid self for digging into such a sensitive topic... but fuck this hit me so hard. Even so to the point I cried myself to sleep.

Cause I do struggle really hard to believe that I'm still somehow a woman despite my transition to male, so those words of his dug into an especially delicate wound.

I don't know exactly what his words did, but they upset me really deeply. I felt like crying, screaming, destroying things, it was as if my soul was shaking and rattling within my body. I wasn't able to put words into what I was feeling, but I felt upset both about my detransition situation and about being a lesbian.

His previous message dug into my internalised homophobia and how much I still struggle to accept myself and not hate myself for being a lesbian. And I said "Whatever 'lesbian pride' I wave around here [in that fb group] is about as shallow as my makeup. I don't want to be a lesbian, I'm just trying to accept that I simply am one."

It's tearing at me. How ruined my entire life feels. As I tried to fall asleep in my early morning cries, I felt like I've ruined my whole life so bad. Like beyond redemption, almost. Or I don't know if it is redeemable. What can I do, except from just keep trying? I fucked up my body and traumatised myself sexually for a decade cause of the traumas before that, and I lived lies upon lies in desperate attempts to escape from myself, but now it has all caught up with me. Everything.

And it felt like a mountain hitting me in my face. And I still can't get up from the impact. I can't. I'm just lying here. Defeated.

I've been a little better for the past couple of months, although still dysfunctional enough to not manage doing anything productive, but then yesterday it was like I fell down into a pit of despair again. Same pit as before. I hate my life. Just look at it?! It's a full on tragedy. And it breaks my ravaged heart.

Is it too late to try to love my body and connect with it? Or is it beyond saving? Is it too late to start over with my dating/sex life in a way that won't traumatise me and that only includes other women? Or am I too hopelessly traumatised and unlovable forever? Is it too late? Will this pain kill me?

I keep wondering. No I'm not suicidal and have no such intentions what so ever, but fuck yeah I do wish I was dead and it's possible I could end up dying out of sheer negligence. Unintentionally starve to death cause of my ever decreasing appetite and I just forgot to eat, or care to eat. Cause I don't know how to push through this, and I'm so, so despondent. I don't have motivation for anything, not even breathing.

Truth is I feel horrible about the way I look. I hate that I look so bad when not "dolled up" cause I'm no fucking doll! And I feel like I'm putting on a mask of more femininity than I want to, in order to "look like a woman" and the trans community's harmful views on manhood and womanhood being purchasable lifestyle choices dig wounds into me and make me wanna scream. Am I buying womanhood in makeup, razors, dresses and a new female name? Fuck no, it doesn't work like that! And nor will me getting permanent hair removal and boob surgery be like me buying womanhood either. Being a woman is my birth right as much as it is my birth curse. It's something I fought my entire life to stop fighting... but I have a feeling that fight will never truly end. That I will always have to fight society on that point, if not also myself.

And truth is calling myself a lesbian feels like a joke cause I'm not even a "real" woman anymore. I'm not anything. I shredded my femaleness for a fake maleness. Ripped off my skin for a plastic suit. I'm a hackjob. A failed experiment. A broken girl who never got to truly become a woman. I'm stunted in my growth. It feels like it's too late now. I know I love women, that my love is exclusively for women, that that's what I want and it feels so good to even just imagine it considering how lonely I am... but just how much of a lesbian am I really when I still disconnect so hard from other women and from seeing myself as somehow one of them? So to the point that I feel like I'm a drag queen, a kind of man toying around with femininity making a mockery out of being a woman with caked on makeup and padded bras... but I'm just sad. Trying to recreate what I've forsaken.

To some degree I can connect better to other lesbians, though. And that's a big reason I hold on so tightly to the lesbian community already despite being so new in it and not quite getting the in's and out's of it yet. The struggles I share with them, and that there is some mutual understanding in that feeling of being alienated from other women in general. And on that point, I think I even relate noticably better to butch lesbians than I do to feminine straight women. That gay struggle runs deeper than what we look like. Also, before, I used to think being gay and bi was like a similar struggle or even pretty much the same. But oh boy, was I wrong.

Back when I still thought I was bisexual and thought I had "internalised biphobia", I thought to myself that it would be better if I was a lesbian instead... I take back that stupid wish now! I wanna whack myself in the head over it! But I think, that I actually got so far in accepting my attraction to women back then, that I even started thinking it would be fine if I was actually a lesbian, was one of the reasons that deeply suppressed/repressed truth in me started finally surfacing.

So no, I really don't think I in any way "wished myself gay" but rather that the desperate wish made my actual homosexuality start to show itself to me, cause I had let down my guard and inner defenses enough to open that door slightly. But then bunch of months later of course the thought hits me that "that was a really dumb wish" as if it was somehow the cause although I know it wasn't and it doesn't work like that. I guess that's just my internalised homophobia beating me with its stick again. Laughing in my face singing "nana-na-naaaana you got what you wished for, have fun in hell!" cause it echoes truth in everything that's ever randomly happened to me in my life, or in the random ways I was born.

I know I keep questioning myself when I really should be questioning society and its questionable ways of treating people like me. But it’s easier to beat myself up cause I’m closer and more accessible.

When I thought I was bisexual I thought I had at least some shred of heterosexuality about myself that I could hold onto, which made my attraction to women... not less scary but more like... something I didn't "have to" accept about myself (I know that sounds bad, but as a coping mechanism). But since knowing I'm actually a lesbian, that slight sense of security got pulled away from under my feet and I'm suddenly left to rely on and only having my attraction to women, which makes it even more scary and daunting. Like I really have to accept this now or else I'll have nothing.

And I'm just floating around somewhere scary and unstable with no ground to put my feet on. Cause I walked on a glass floor and it broke.

But the image of myself and what I try to recreate becomes skewed and disturbed like a false immitation. Like a scary victorian doll meant to resemble a child. I can never truly become myself again, or the woman I was supposed to become. I'm stuck as a living doll, reeking of decay.

It makes me think of a horrifying case of necrophilia I once saw a documentary about. A man who picked up the remains of a former patient of his cause he was "in love" (obsessed) with her. She had died of tuberculosis and he was her doctor who tried to cure her (I think this was back in the 30's or something before a cure existed, and yeah, actually happened). He propped her up like a doll in his home, trying all sorts of techniques to keep her looks from fading as she decayed over time. The photos of what he had of made her body, 7 years after her death, still haunt me a little. Poor girl. (And yeah, there was more horror to the story considering it's said to be the worst case of necrophilia in history so far... but let's leave out those details, okay. Not relevant to my feelings.)

But why, oh why, do I connect that horrifying image to my own body?! Cause she had essentially been turned into a doll, made of her own human remains, plastic and paint. And very tragically sexualised, which erh... yeah is relatable on a highly metaphorical level. I felt really dead when I was traumatised sexually over and over, and I felt really a lot like I was just a sex doll for men's pleasure. Completely mindlessly so. And also... she too never became a woman. She was only 15-16 years old when she died. I often relate to tragedies, in general.

And I fear that kind of image. Of becoming something like a false immitation of my former self that will haunt me. It reminds me of my childhood nightmares and horror movies I've seen. It reminds me of my phobia of distortion and fearing my own mirror reflection for weeks cause what if it will look distorted and unnatural? What am I detransitioning into, a monster? It makes me dissociate again. My body doesn’t feel like my own. I'm not here. The number you have reached is out of service.

I don't wanna go through this pain. It's far too much and it suffocates me. I wanna escape this horrible hell in my mind. I want a time machine. Go back to my teens. Start over again. I really want to start over. Life went horribly wrong and there's no way back.