#not sure if this is just my depressed self but

[reashot]

A Self-Care Ruby... 🌹 🌙

Jaune: You've been laying there for seventeen hours, Ruby.

Are you sure you okay?

Ruby: I'm having a self-care day. 🌈

Jaune: Oh. You need anything?

Ruby: Bring me twelve more pillows and chocolate chip cookies. And keep it coming. 🍪

A few days later...

Ruby: *Baking Choco chip cookies*

Jaune: Hey Ruby. Are you doing okay?

I haven't seen you take a "self-care day in a while?

Ruby: Oh Yeah!

So. It turns out staying in bed for days wasn't actually self care.

Turns out I was SUPER DEPRESSED...

Like CLINICALLY... 😢

Jaune: Oh, that's suck.

But hey, you seems to be doing good lately.

Ruby: Yeah I'm trying my best.😚

Jaune: That's so cool, Ruby. I'm proud of you.

Ruby: Thank U. 🥰

Jaune: Well, Ruby if you need anything don't hesitate to ask.

Ruby:

Funny you should ask.

Jaune... I'm going to need you to take me and nail me to the wall right now. And just shove the entire thing there. 😋

Jaune: *gasp*

But Ruby. You can't take my entire length inside of you.

It will kill you.

Ruby: Jaune I just figured out that the cure for depression is to be constantly horny. You wouldn't want me to be depressed again do you? 😏

Jaune: But still, Ruby. I can accidentally tear you in half.

Ruby: That's a chance I'm willing to take... ��

Spoiler:

She cannot take the entire length...

[snailsgoingdowntown]

Help, I Reincarnated as the Female Lead’s Sister-in-Law!

  1  2  3  4  5  6  7  8

Chapter 9

‘Slight’ Yandere! Dion Agriche x Fem! Reader

Arranged marriage AU

Warnings: thoughts about self-harm (biting thumb again), accidental self-injury(? + biting inside of lip which causes it to bleed), thoughts about implied murder, near panic attack, implied depression, slight blood, small/slight themes of obsession and possessiveness, slight themes of misogyny/some toxic behavior from Reader's family, please tell me if I missed any.

Nsfw warnings: OKAY, I honestly think Maria, if she becomes fond of a daughter-in-law, would absolutely push for grandchildren and take things into her own hands unless someone (Sierra) tries really hard to convince her otherwise. I’m really sorry for writing her as a creep but this will be the last time (either completely or for a very long time) I’ll write her like this. Anyway: suggestive, throwback to their 1st night, gifting of lingerie and aphrodisiac by Maria (again will not write her like this either completely or a long time, I tried rewriting this chapter so fucking much but this is what I settled on because it felt the most natural to me.) pushing for grandchildren, Maria somehow got the Reader’s measurements, please tell me if I missed any.

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT CONDONE ANY OF THE HARMFUL AND/OR DANGEROUS/TOXIC ACTIONS AND/OR BEHAVIORS THAT TAKE PLACE IN THIS PIECE OF FICTION. THESE ACTIONS/BEHAVIORS SHOULD NOT BE NORMALIZED NOR ROMANTICIZED AS THEY ARE BOTH EXTREMELY TOXIC AND DANGEROUS.

MINORS/BLANK BLOGS/BLOGS THAT DO NOT INTERACT OR REBLOG ANYTHING FANDOM RELATED (FICS, ART, ETC.) DNI.

===

‘Dear father and mother, 

I am doing well so far. The food is nice and the clothes comfortable. I haven’t personally spoken to my father-in-law yet, but I’m going to meet him for dinner tomorrow at the time of writing this. My husband, Dion is different from what I expected. Too nice. He’s not as brutal as others described him. It was surprising. But he’s a pervert and I almost hit him out of frustration and rejected his sexual advances like any sane person would. I know that you’ll say I should have let it happen, mother, but it hurt so bad I don’t think he’ll ever fit. Speaking of those vulgar activities, you lied he wasn’t flustered in the slightest until I started crying. Can you believe that? He’s a creep! But hopefully he doesn’t kill or torture me he’ll continue to treat me nicely.

I have talked to a few in-laws, including my mother-in-law. I heard that you drank with her, mother. She's very  lively and has a sadistic unique personality. She’s very sweet to me. I have also met the fourth wife, Sierra. She’s lovely, I think you’ll also get along with her, mother. 

Of course, as his wife I’ll do my best to support him in fear of him or Lant killing me otherwise in every field to the best of my abilities. Just how you forced taught me.

I hope that the two of you are faring well. The same goes for Zac and Elena, of course. Speaking of them, how has Zac’s studies been? He’s not skipping them again, is he or planning something dangerous like that stupid but well-meant plan he informed you, father, about? Yes, I overheard everything?

Is Elena doing well in her pregnancy? I know she moved out before me, but I’m still concerned about her and the baby. And Albert, he’s taking care of her, right? 

I’m not sure what else to write, so I’ll just leave it here. Please take care of yourselves. The same goes for my brother and sister.

Your daughter, (Name)’

“... I ended up writing what I really think… I need to rewrite this… again.” You sigh, leaning back in your chair as you crumble the letter. This was your fifth try, and while each one became less hostile and more casual, you weren't satisfied with any of the rough drafts to turn into a final draft. 

If you weren’t married to Dion, into this family, would writing to them be easier? You shake your head. No point in having these useless thoughts. Especially as Hana comes in with a knock and your permission, rolling in your lunch. 

In the end, you ended up going with Hana’s suggestion - basically saying that your husband fucked you too hard and rough last night and you needed to recover. Thanks to that, you didn’t have to change into the scarlet dress she picked out either - it was decided to be saved for the dinner you’ll have with both your husband and father-in-law tomorrow. 

You already asked Hana for indigestion medicine for tomorrow. 

“Thank you, Hana,” you put your stationary away and picked up the crumbled balls of paper that were failed attempts. She eyes you curiously but doesn’t comment on it. Instead she readies your lunch, placing the plates onto the table. 

The thought of eating makes you sick. You could barely hold down breakfast - could you hold down lunch? Or would your body give up immediately and reject the food? 

Warily looking at it, you notice two prettily wrapped up boxes - one pink with light red polka dots, the bow purple in color. The second box, a flatter one, had red wrapping paper with a tiny black hearts pattern, with the bow also black. Your heart speeds up as your gut twists painfully. If they were meant for you, they contain nothing well meant nor innocent.

“Oh, right,” Hana starts before handing both ‘presents’ to your unwelcoming arms, “Lady Maria sent these to you. I don’t know what they are, unfortunately.” With a grave look on your face you shakily thank her, a pained and forced smile stretching your lips. 

Maria sent these… oh boy, I sure do wonder what they are… 

“Later today, please help me pick out a gift for her. It’s only right that I repay the favor, especially since she’s my mother-in-law.” Placing them down next to your feet, you ignore the urge to kick them far, far away from you. It’s hard to keep your eyes off of the boxes. It’s hard to focus on your food, picking up your fork and knife as you cut into the grilled fish. 

It’s hard to chew, accidentally biting your lip hard enough to taste blood. It’s hard to drink the water as it threatens to choke you. It’s hard to not wince at the sharp sounds of cutlery against the plate as you imagine your head being chopped off like nothing. 

It’s hard to breathe. 

How much longer until you go crazy?

By the time you finish your meal, you’re sweating buckets. You hate it here. You want to go home -

“My Lady, are you alright?” Hana’s voice drags you out from your thoughts, flicking your eyes to meet hers. She’s picking up the silverware and placing it back onto the tray, but quickly takes a clean napkin from it and hands it to you. You take it with shaky hands, doing your best not to drop it. Thankfully your brain didn’t lag for too long for you to realize it was for your sweat.

You pat down your temples with the white cloth.

“T-thank you… v-very much, Ha-Hana.” Why is your voice so shaky? Why are you stuttering? Hell, why are you sweating?

You already had one panic attack - you don’t need another one. Your right thumb throbs at the memory and your teeth want to clamp down on it. The bandages suddenly feel too tight around the digit and you want to rip it off so you could dig your teeth into it. You bite your lip, only worsening the newly formed wound. The taste of your own blood spreads throughout your mouth again. 

You need to stop. 

Your attention switches to Hana, the woman staring at you uncertainly. It wasn’t necessarily out of concern but rather confusion - just how was she supposed to comfort her master? …you’re probably putting her in a rough spot. 

…right. I just need to accept my new reality… but today is not going to be that day.

Taking in a deep breath, you force your nerves to settle down - positive thoughts, positive thoughts. The sun is warm, the birds are lively, the bed is comfortable, your husband is gone - 

This isn’t the first time, and clearly it won’t be the last. 

“...thank you for bringing the food, Hana.” You’re not fully composed, not fully right of mind, but as the saying goes: fake it until you make it. You did it once, you managed to do it throughout the duration of the engagement, during the wedding despite feeling horrible, you did it while consummating your marriage despite being ripped open by Dion, you did it while at the tea party with Maria and Sierra, you did it last night when you told him off.

You did it back then, too. 

Force yourself to smile now. Tilt your head innocently. Act happy. Act happy. 

“I enjoyed it. Please give my thanks to the chief.” Your smile isn’t bright as the sun and slightly wavers. Your eyes aren’t shining brightly like stars, instead seeing past her. Your mind isn’t calm as you recall the brutality of this family that was shown and described in the story. 

Fake it until you make it. 

Yes, you think. Maybe you will have a conversation with Roxana. 

- - -

Hana left an hour ago yet you haven’t moved from your spot. No, instead you’re staring intensely at the presents in front of you on the table. They’re pretty, a bit childish. But knowing Maria… 

“...is it a trap…?” Carefully, you pick up the stereo typical present box and lightly shake it; it rattles. “Sounds a bit heavy… like a box within a box.” Curiosity gets the better of you and you gingerly untie the purple bow before ripping the wrapping paper. Despite the damn thing nearly sending you into another panic episode, it was satisfying to unwrap. 

A slightly smaller box is what you see once you manage to open the outer one. It was black and had a fancy red bow. Still a good size not to be something small. Unless it was a perfume. Breathing in deeply, you undo the ribbon and take off the lid. 

You’re met with a glass container roughly the size of your hand. Your heart drops at the yellow liquid inside. 

It looks exactly like the aphrodisiac your mother-in-law gave Roxana in the manhwa. 

“...what in the actual fuck… she’s basically telling, no, begging me to fuck her son… haha!” Your head rolls back as laughter overtakes you and shoulders violently shake. “I knew she was crazy, but fuck, how morally corrupt is this woman?” 

Instead of throwing it across the room like you should, you place it down on the table. You would have slammed it down if there wasn’t a chance that just smelling it could cause your body to heat up and become needy for a thing - a person - you don’t even want. 

“I’m scared to open up the other ‘present’...” in spite of that you pull at the black bow and unwrap it. You shake it - sounds like something soft. Like clothes. 

Oh. 

Oh no, no, no, no, no no -

“She didn’t. No fucking way… maybe it’s a sweater. Or a shawl. Gloves?” 

Trembling fingers take the lid off, a pink ribbon undone easily. This time, you throw the box to the floor after seeing what it held. 

A sheer black babydoll lingerie set. 

“Maria Agriche… you fucking creep…,” without another thought you shut the lid on it and shoved it into one of your drawers on your side of the dresser. Away from sight, out of mind you chant in your head, slamming the drawer shut. Your cheeks feel warm as both embarrassment and disgust fill your head and chest. 

… even if you wanted to sleep with him… or if you were in a healthy marriage with someone you love…

“...I could never wear that… it’s too revealing, too embarrassing.” Even in your old world you never wore such things. Not because you viewed them as dirty or slutty, but because they don’t suit you. Besides, putting in so much effort just for it to be taken off…?

‘I’m only going to ask once - would you rather keep your clothes on or off?’ 

“MMMMFFFF!!” throwing yourself onto the bed at the memory, scream muffled by the pillow, you mentally curse both son and mother. The son because he made your first time so horrible you’re mentally scarred and the mother because she’s a creep. More so than her own fucking son. 

A few minutes later you manage to collect yourself somewhat. Dreadfully you go to the dresser to pull out the offending clothing. You don’t plan on putting it on or to hold it over your clothes to get a vague idea of it either. Just to get a better look at it. 

Opening it and picking up the article of clothing, you examine it; pretty lace details on the him and breast cups, a flower pattern. It was soft as silk - clearly made from expensive materials. The straps were thin but they didn't feel too rough or stiff. Probably comfortable on the shoulders. 

Not like you would know - you never tried anything like this on. 

Curiosity killing the cat, you decide to see where it ends by holding it over your clothes; it barely brushes past mid thigh. 

When you go to put it back you notice an envelope and panties in the box. First, you pick up the lacy underwear, frowning as you realize that somehow, someway Maria had gotten your fucking measurements. Did your mother also tell the crazed woman your three sizes… “No, she wouldn’t. Even if she was drunk, she wouldn’t tell anyone such private details.” 

Carelessly dropping it into the box you grab the letter, opening it after a moment of hesitation. It takes even longer to unfold the letter. And even longer to actually read it, only for horror to come across your face and enter your heart. 

‘Sierra told me it may come across as inappropriate to send such things to you… but I’m just so excited for grandchildren! Oh, but don’t feel pressured into wearing or drinking those things tonight. The aphrodisiac lasts a rather long time. Besides, considering it’s Dion, I thought you might need some help to get in the mood whenever you decide to lay with him.

- Maria’ 

“No. Never.” 

Shoving everything back in, you shut the drawer close, making sure to hide the items underneath some layers of your… underwear…

You give up. 

“Ahh, why and how did I stumbled into the scene…” You turn around only to notice the yellow liquid contained in the glass bottle. Right. You forgot about that. “Maybe I should just pour it out…”

Not once did you realize nor notice how all the fear and fright left your body and mind, instead leaving caution and annoyance in its wake. 

- - -

Your husband returned at midnight, small amounts of blood splattered on his left cheek. When you look up from your book to greet him you notice that in the candlelight his eye bags seem darker. Deeper. 

“...welcome…back.” Your body starts to quiver and your heart beats loud enough you could hear and feel it once you meet his eyes. Quickly scanning his person you notice he’s wearing the standard male servant uniform: 

black shirt with red rimmed shoulder pads that have the Agriche crest on top, the shirt long enough to reach below his knees and splits at the hips, tied together with a brown belt at the waist. If he were to turn around you would see the family crest proudly engraved into the fabric. Blank pants that disappear into nearly knee-height boots with long, tied laces. 

The last time you’ve seen him in that uniform was the first time you met him, bored expression plastered on his face as Lant introduced him with a smug smile on that disgusting face of his. All he did was shake your hand as you stood still with prayers to a God who held no love for you. With your father glancing your way every minute as you were left in some corner with your then fiance to hold a conversation that never happened. When he didn’t spare so much as a glance at you, instead staring off into space as you couldn’t take your eyes off your lap. 

Wait. 

No. 

Maybe back then, you were too deep in your thoughts to notice that unnerving stare. 

The same one he has now - looking at you as though you were his prey, scarlet eyes glowing in the candlelight, like you belonged to him and he would never change that fact. That he would never let you change it, either. 

“Wife.” 

The word mixed with his sleepy voice sounds like nails on a chalkboard - it makes your ears bleed and eye twitch as you hold back the grimace of how he addresses you. He only wants you because you’re a normal person.

The moment you become insane he’ll let you go. 

That’s the only explanation. It has to be. That’s the only explanation your brain could come up with and accept. 

You’re too scared to bring up the night before yesterday. Beads of sweat slowly roll down your temples and breathing shallow as Dion walks towards the bed, heavy boots echoing. Time stops as your heart drops once he reaches the bed, reaches you and without a single word, he grabs your right wrist and - 

“What happened here?”

Oh. You forgot about your bandaged thumb.  

[oleandequill]

You know, it drives me crazy to know that technically there’s two (at least in terms of prominence cause I think there’s also a TFA one though it doesn’t seem as talked about) canonical Shattered Glass continuities: the one made by FunPub and the IDW reboot.

Cause the thing is, those two comics have vastly different Megatrons and Optimus Primes.

Like we have FunPub Megatron who is a mathematician and Optronix who was a librarian that backstabbed his way to the top.

Then we have the IDW versions where Megatron is a miner/civil activist who keeps getting tossed into jail and Orion Pax who is a senator in this version.

And what fascinates me is that in the FunPub version, Optimus actually lives (though he becomes Nova Prime). Meanwhile, in the IDW version, I think he dies (?) or well his fate is much worse in comparison to FunPub!OP.

Also what’s up with both Megatrons having a fakeout death? FunPub!Megatron does get killed by Cyclonus but he comes back as Galvatron. Meanwhile IDW!Megatron gets defeated by OP and is momentarily thought to be dead (he just went into self-exile).

There’s not actually a lot of difference between the two OPs (cause honestly they both seem insane), though I guess one could interpret FunPub!OP as much more depressing cause the only reason he’s evil is cause he saw life as meaningless unless history remembers you and when he becomes Nova Prime, he’s still a little jerk but he’s tamer so I assume that was his original personality. IDW!OP just wants total power and only initially hides behind a nice facade.

The two Megatrons are vastly different though in my opinion. Cause FunPub!Megatron really was just some guy who predicted civil war and was good enough to want to stop it (this Megatron wasn’t affected by the caste system, he just genuinely saw something wrong was happening and chose to do something about it). IDW!Megatron was someone who was affected by the caste system and was trying his best to bring attention to it. FunPub!Megatron is also very nice (like not overly nice but he’s genuinely such a nice guy and this is why he’s my favorite aside from him being a nerd lmao). IDW!Megatron is a bit more jaded (which is fair cause the caste system is horrible and his “friend” is an asshole).

Even the relationship between OP and Megatron are different in both continuities. I’m pretty sure in FunPub these two never interacted before the war, where OP gets pissed that this random mathematician is opposing him. In IDW, OP and Megatron were “friends” with OP even bailing Megatron out of jail, though their “friendship” was already toxic even before the war cause Megatron seemed to really see through OP’s BS.

All this to say, there should really be a crossover between both continuities.

SGFunPub!Megs and SGIDW!OP meeting would be kinda fun and dangerous, especially if they meet each other before the civil war broke out. Megatron wouldn’t know who OP is while OP would see another version of his Megatron who he could possibly trick. Also this has the added bonus of a hilarious scenario where Megatron predicts OP is the cause of the civil war through math and that pisses off OP cause genuinely tf you mean you computed that through math. This one is more dangerous though as OP genuinely wants power and will not be swayed by whatever Megatron says.

SGIDW!Megs and SGFunPub!OP might honestly end up the happier version ngl. Cause OP clearly has an existential crisis that Megatron can probably fix by convincing him that OP can still be remembered in history by doing the right thing… such as being a civil rights activist. Like… I’m just saying maybe FunPub!OP needs therapy (and unlike IDW!OP, he actually gets a canonical redemption arc so he’s not completely lost).

.

.

.

Anyway, will I write this? Maybe (I really shouldn’t though cause I have a series and two writing requests to finish lmao). Because I am officially employed now and thus have a fixed schedule unlike the previous weeks where my schedule was erratic (which is not good for my OCD as I need a fixed schedule or I will be very upset sksksksk) as I had nothing to do but read, play video games, and exist lmao

[taxi-cab-to-slowtown]

can I add to this? I have horrible intrusive thoughts. Just goddamn awful some days. It’s like a voice in my head telling me to hurt myself in the worst ways possible and I CAN’T TURN IT OFF.

When I have a mental break where my depression is horrible and I’m actively feeling like self-harm, it’s much harder to ignore the intrusive thoughts. One day I was in a really bad place but I needed to go to the store because I missed dinner at the dining hall. I went to my friends and asked them if someone would come with me. They all told me “you have a car you can drive” but that wasn’t the problem. The problem was that i wasn’t sure if my brain said “swerve into this ditch and blow up your car” I would be able to stop it. When I tried to explain that i didn’t know if i could stop my intrusive thoughts they said “just buy a milkshake it’s not that big of a deal.”

THIS is why it’s so damaging for people when you make light of ACTUAL MENTAL HEALTH ISSUES. When you say “I let the intrusive thoughts win” when you show off your red hair. An intrusive thought is not an impulsive thought and those with intrusive thoughts are ACTUALLY HURT by what you’re doing.

I need more people to actually read and listen to bipolar people discussing our own experiences because there's no reason i should have to spend an entire documentary series about elisa lam (who was bipolar) watching random youtubers say "Her behavior didn't make sense! Her mental illness had nothing to do with it!" about things that are all incredibly fucking common symptoms of bipolar disorder

[wishchip106]

i’ve made it a habit to post something right before i go to sleep 🤨

for tonight i am saying these guys got freaky before erik tried to kill his sister

thank you and goodnight.

[sophaeros]

hi everyone did you know that um. 😊when julian went over to albert's house in 2013 to listen to st justice he asked if it was about him. 😊 yes the song that is a love song to albert's then-girlfriend justyna. haha. just letting you know 😊

albert hammond jr for the talk, 2013 (x)

[marsimago]

I would like to go on record to point out this man blocked me because he couldn't handle my response. So here it is again!

Yeah man, Google is great. I was just reading about statistics showing half of the people in prison who declare themselves transgender have been sentenced with one or more sexual offences, which is way higher than even the average male.

And I saw how trans ideology is literally just performing experiments on kids. For example, there is not a single long-term study to demonstrate the safety or efficacy of puberty blockers, cross-sex hormones and surgeries for transgender-believing youth. This means that youth transition is experimental, and therefore, parents cannot provide informed consent, nor can minors provide assent for these interventions. Moreover, the best long-term evidence we have among adults shows that medical intervention fails to reduce suicide.

Puberty blockers may actually cause depression and other emotional disturbances related to suicide. In fact, the package insert for Lupron, the number one prescribed puberty blocker in America, lists “emotional instability” as a side effect and warns prescribers to “Monitor for development or worsening of psychiatric symptoms during treatment.” Similarly, discussing an experimental trial of puberty blockers in the U.K., Oxford University Professor Michael Biggs wrote, “There was no statistically significant difference in psychosocial functioning between the group given blockers and the group given only psychological support. In addition, there is unpublished evidence that after a year on [puberty blockers] children reported greater self-harm, and the girls also experienced more behavioral and emotional problems and expressed greater dissatisfaction with their body—so puberty blockers exacerbated gender dysphoria.”

I'd love for you to Google the damage your ideology does to kids! And I sure wish all you trans ideologues could handle conversations when you're hit with the real facts without running away. There's a reason you all get to a certain point and block, and I want you to really think about your ideology.

“Gender ideology claims that being a woman or a man is a feeling in a person’s head rather than a biological reality. Thus, gender activists demand that we define a man or a woman on the basis of each person’s thoughts and feelings, which are intimately connected to sex-role stereotyping.”

[lemongogo]

need 2 find myself again in 2025 . tbhwu

[spaceratprodigy]

[ 😇 ] — doodle dump from priv

just some smaller things while I have fun w friends and find my groove again :]

Commission Info | Ko-Fi | My Links

[soppsop]

i just rememberd adhd meds exist and now im upset because i could have that if it wasn't for that freakin neurologyst we went to see that told us it was impossible that i could have adhd because i have good grades in school. literally the ONLY question he asked me and immediately said it was impossible. we spent like 5 minutes there. he could've at least... explained something???? anything?????? and now i'd feel bad about asking my parents to see another neurologist because that costs a lot of money :((

[thatboreddrake]

Do you guys ever think about the line that separates a hero from a villain? About when “I will do whatever I can to protect the ones I love” turns into “the greatest end justifies any means?”

It’s a dangerous line to walk. How easy it might be for one person to ignore, or shut down, the part of themselves that empathizes with others, that recognizes that their enemies, the ones who seek to harm them, are human nonetheless. Or, if they should find their stomach not equal to the task, they may completely rule out the possibility of killing to protect others. This would seem the noble choice, but what can they do when faced with the reality that sparing the life of an enemy may mean the loss of countless others?

At what point would it be more heroic for Batman to simply kill the Joker, knowing that many would sleep more soundly at night? Of course, the push back is that this one choice would push him over the line into becoming the Punisher, a man who kills without mercy, saying that he protects the innocent in doing so.

How is one, then, to balance the desire to protect the ones they love from harm with the desire to show mercy to the ones who oppose them? What if a second chance would make them change? What if a kind word would eliminate a foe as surely as blade or bullet?

And if that choice must be made, who am I to make it? I am but a man, mortal and fallible as any other. How am I, in my infinitely limited wisdom, to make the calculation that one life is worth more than another, or that taking one life would save many others? Even if I could make that choice, how could I life with myself, haunted by the idea that I got it wrong?

How is one to know when mercy is the noble option, or when it is more merciful to show ruthlessness to one who threatens others?

It seems to me that the easiest choice would be to not make the choice at all. Rather than judge the worthiness of another’s life, why not judge the worth of my own? Could I not simply put myself between others and danger, knowing that if I fail, I have only my own life to lose? And yet I know this to be the most cowardly of the options available, to run from the choice rather than face it head on. For just as you cannot make the choice simpler by dehumanizing your enemy, neither can you dehumanize yourself. Your life is not worth less simply for being your own.

One must make the choice, such that they can, and pray to God that they never find themselves on the other side of the equation.

In the end, I cannot give an answer. I fear I will never find it on this side of Heaven. Prayerfully, I never find myself in the place of decision. After all, I’m just a simple man, living far from danger and conflict. And yet my heart hurts for those who do face this choice on a daily basis.

What right have I to sit and cast judgment on those who have faced more pain than I could ever imagine?

[good-to-drive]

Advice from E.B White (yes, the author of Charlotte's Web) to a 17-year-old Conan O'Brien. Conan realized just as he was sharing the anecdote that he hadn't taken the advice....

[icewindandboringhorror]

There's always a slight yearning in the back of my mind wishing I had been born in the right place, time, family situation, income level, etc. to have just lived in one single house for my entire life. Imagine being born in a place that still suits you, even through all of your personal evolutions and etc. The idea of deep familiarity with an area because you've lived and explored it for 40+ years, being encased in a web of memories and connections. Being able to clean out your old childhood bedroom and find personal artifacts, to dig in the yard and remember. I know those lives can still be plenty imperfect, but there's just something so seemingly solid and stable and Grounding about it that I sometimes wish I could have.. (At least from my outside perspective as someone who's moved around a bit geographically and even within the same area, never lives in the same house/ apartment /etc. for more than a few years usually.) Like... having a place that is printed upon, fully your own, rather than chronically a visitor, every thought of a space always tempered with the notion that one day soon you'll have to pack it all up again, etc. There's something peaceful about the permanence.

[quinnquatria]

It’s not that it’s bad, it’s just that it’s incredibly slow, the audiobook is the only way I can get through it. I do plan on continuing the series because I do love to see the differences in adaptations! I have heard that The Vampire Lestat is a little more fast paced and interesting so I’m looking forward to that.

I’m not sure I’ll get past Queen of the Damned though because I do value my sanity and Anne Rice’s cosmology rewrite feels like a lot to take in. But I do love to suffer as well, so we’ll see!

Louis has very little personality in the novel, and I think that was a purposeful choice by Rice because she was exploring her own grief and trauma through him. He’s just a vessel for the story of vampirism and her grief to flow through. As a tv character though that would never work, so I think that AMC has done such a wonderful job keeping all of Louis’s book traits (the self loathing, the guilt, the depression, the yearning for existential answers) while also making him a multifaceted and very “human” character underneath it.

I just really appreciate amc’s iwtv for taking the source material so lovingly into their arms and saying “I will make you so much more interesting”

[baicaozhe]

EGO

(right now, I feel a little like dying).

[woolieshubris]

I gained like 10 pounds in my thighs (not joking. that's legit the math) and I wish I could just. mentally transfer it to any trans woman who wants it. cuz I wish I had male hips and legs. I don't want any of the other effects of testosterone. I literally just wanna be able to wear mens pants. I hate women's pants so fucking muchhhhh they always wanna do some apple bottom jeans shit and I just wanna cover my ass