#people being accused of shit they did not say

[summertimesadnessirl]

You should try just no longer talking to them. Just tell them that using actual words and then bounce.

Self sabotage is not real. In relationships, you are sabotaging the other person. They don't know why you did this.

And "you're not good enough for meeeeeee!" Is actually a terrible excuse to piss someone off or make them miserable or mistreat them or cheat on them or whatever you are doing.

I don't think this is real though.

Every time someone accuses me of self sabotaging it's either a fancy way of saying

"I feel bad for you and that makes me feel bad and I have the ability to discern and manage emotions, including those absorbed through empathy of roughly a 6th grader and won't admit it so now I'm trying to tell you to shut up about your problems and not indicate distress in any way because you being sad near me is bumming me out but that would require me to have a higher level of maturity and self awareness than I have so I'm just going to accuse you of causing your own problems and hope you slink away in shame because I want to lash out at you even though you didn't do anything wrong and I don't know why."

Or

"Actually god is punishing you for negative vibes, because God is also a little bitch with the emotional range of a sixth grader, so... that's for you to fix. I am very mystical and used to people not questioning my philosophy as a result, and I don't realize people can tell I'm a dyed in the wool sadist who enjoys seeing people in emotional turmoil. My main interest in the mystical arts is keeping other people too intimidated with how esoteric I am or too intimidated by my resemblance to religious abuse of a similar nature in their childhood to call me out on pretending to offer advice so I can get off on making people feel like shit after talking to me for not understanding why my advice doesn't make them feel better when I supposedly say all the right things."

Or

"The same, but with the self help industry."

So I've never met anyone who actually self sabotages relationships because the other person is too good for them.

I have met people who don't understand why something isn't working but know it isn't working.

I have met people who claim they self sabotage relationships because they don't feel good enough. Most of those people were victims of abuse and gaslighting.

A few were lying to people about their own motives in order to justify some sadistic behavior they got called out on.

They knew it would make the other person go

Awwwww

And forgive them and let them go another round.

I self sabotage any relationship I have with people bc I know in the end they are better without me in their lives

[district4loading]

What’s ur take on how sana would assure her partner that there’s nothing going on between her and dex 🤣🤣

Just imagine it

Your famous girlfriend does an interview with a guy that she's told you not to worry about. She came to you about it maybe a few weeks ago saying that the same guy that named her as his ideal type—whatever the fuck that means—has invited her to be on his show.

Of course, you expected her to politely decline but when she flashed you those eyes and touched your hand, you could tell she wanted to. At first it was a hard no, or rather "Hell no" in your words. It's not like you didn't trust her, you were just uncomfortable with all the ideas that people might get. When you voiced your concerns about everything she promised that there wouldn't be any room for any of that because it'd be strictly professional.

She promised.

So imagine your surprise when you sit down to watch the interview—because of course you want to support your girlfriend's solo schedule—and she's flirting with him the whole time.

At first it shocked you, the giggling, the blushing, and especially the way she was looking at him. You could already see the comments "They would make a great couple" "Sana and Dex dating soon?" "They definitely went on a date after this" "They have good chemistry"

The fucking rumors.

It honestly made your stomach turn. You stopped watching around the halfway mark because by that time you'd seen enough.

You sat there for a few seconds, contemplating your next move. Should you call her? Should you yell at her? Should you punish her? Shit you felt like doing all three.

It's a sort of betrayal mixed with jealousy you felt burning and spreading rapidly like a fire in your chest that has you a bit restless. She's working right now and apparently her schedule is intense today so she won't be back until maybe midnight.

That meant you had time to think things over and how to approach this, how to confront her about it and tell her how you feel in a healthy and productive way. Rather than immediately start accusing her of things.

Yeah right

The moment Sana entered your shared apartment, she could feel the energy. She brushes it off though because she's tired and the only thing on her mind is a long, hot shower.

She puts her bag down on the counter and smiles big when she sees you "Hey, babe. What are you doing up?" She asks, initially assuming that you'd be sleeping because you had work in the morning.

You only lean forwards and rest your hands on the counter, not even bothering to turn and look at her before you mutter "Couldn't sleep."

That's when Sana begins to suspect that somethings up but she doesn't say anything, she only hums "Why not?" stepping closer so that she's behind you, then she snakes her small arms around your abdomen and presses the side of her face into your back.

Like an idiot, you almost forget that you're supposed to be mad at her right now because the feeling of her holding you is almost too comforting. But you quickly remembered what she did. So with a sigh, you grab her hand and gently nudge it off of you so you can step away from her. You're finally looking in her eyes and she has this surprised look on her face, like she’s got no clue why you’re upset with her.

"Your interview came out today"

It takes a moment for Sana to realize what you're talking about and when it hits her, it’s so obvious because she breaks eye contact with you and looks away "Oh really? Which interview?" She turns away from you and opens the cabinet.

Whenever Sana's nervous she tries to occupy herself so she doesn't have to make eye contact. After being with her for so long, you've picked up on that small habit of hers. "The one with that Dex guy"

Your jaw clenches at the mention of him and Sana pulls out a small glass cup. She doesn't say anything to you, she only walks over to the fridge but before she can open it you put your hand on the handle. "What happened to keeping things professional?"

You're looking directly at her, beginning to get frustrated because she won’t even attempt to meet your eyes. "I- look" She pauses, then you grab the cup out of her hand and put it on the counter.

"I had to sit there and watch you flirt with him Sana!" You raise your voice unintentionally and it makes her flinch a little. For some reason, that makes you feel bad.

"Listen baby, I know what I promised. I'm sorry but my manager told me that I had to flirt with him to make it interesting" Sana finally builds the courage to look into your eyes and the hurt in them almost breaks her heart. She reaches out to grab your hand, and holds it a bit tightly so you can't pull it away "I promise, that's all it was"

"I don't know... you were blushing and fucking giggling at the guy! Acting like you're some high school girl with a crush"

Sana lets go of your hand "What are you trying to say?"

"Did you see him after the interview was over?"

Maybe it's crossing the line just a little bit to ask Sana if she's cheating on you with him, however you let the comments get to your head. It made you feel insecure and jealous like some toxic teenager and you hated how you couldn't control yourself.

"What? No! Of course I didn't!"

Sana blinks, looking a bit shocked that you'd even ask her a question like that but you're still not convinced. "Are you in contact with him? Did you exchange numbers?"

She bites her lip nervously "Yes" She continues quickly to explain herself "It's really only for professional purposes though! I exchange numbers with everyone, you know this"

You step backwards, noticing how fast your heart’s beating at this point. "Give me your phone" You put your hand out and Sana looks at you like you've lost your mind.

It's something you've never asked her to do before. Trust was something so present in your relationship that you didn't feel the need to. But now there's something inside of you that needs more reassurance, something substantial like proof.

So you keep your hand out as you wait for the dumbfounded girl in front of you to come to her senses. She does eventually and quietly reaches in the back pockets of her jeans to pull out the phone.

Sana unlocks it then hands it to you "So you really don't trust me?" She crosses her arms almost like she's upset. You see it in the corner of your eye and you hear the bitter tone in her voice but you ignore it as you go through her phone.

Everything looks okay, you see her messages with Dex and they're completely professional, nothing incriminating at all. So you look up at Sana, who's been staring you down the whole time and you hand her phone back. "See? You have nothing to worry about"

She steps closer to you with a small smile on her face and now you're the one trying to avoid eye contact. Only because you feel like a fool for letting your jealously get so bad that you invaded her privacy like that. Whether or not she was willing to give you her phone, it still wasn't right.

Sana reaches her hand up to cup your cheek, then she makes you look at her "Hey" She whispers "Are we good?" She doesn't wait for your answer, she pulls you in for a warm embrace.

You nod your head "Yeah, but you still should've told me. That way I wouldn't have had to watch it and read all those comments"

"I'm sorry baby, I meant to give you a heads up but it slipped my mind" She mumbles into your chest as you run your fingers through her hair "You forgive me?" She asks, lifting her head to look at you.

"Yeah" You can help but smile when she gives you those puppy dog eyes "I forgive you"

"Good" She breathes in a bit then sighs "I hope you know that you're the only one for me, I don't have eyes for anyone else"

You smile a bit at her words cause they give you butterflies but you play it cool "Yeah, I know... Sorry I got so jealous"

Sana gets on her tippy toes and kisses your lips "Don't be ridiculous, you're kinda hot when you get like this" Sana lets you out of her grip and she begins to walk off and you shamelessly watch her. Then she stops and looks back at you "Maybe you can join me in the shower?"

You don't miss the way she winks before she continues to walk towards your bedroom. Immediately putting everything behind you, you follow closely behind her, knowing that you were in for a good night.

-

A/N: Haha this is a funny one!!! I really do wonder if Sana was dating someone when she did that interview with Dex and how that conversation went.

Either way, I hope you all enjoyed this one. I haven't been working on fics lately because writers block is crazy but I'll try to work on my next fic tomorrow.

[nectardaddy]

SERENDIPITY . . . kita shinsuke + f! reader

⤷ take me as I come

˖° take me as I come // or don't take me at all // I'm gonna let you down // I'm gonna lead you lost // darling, I mean well // I won't leave 'til I'm gone // I'm the maker of hell // burn every bridge I've known

             take me as I come , evan honer 

notes/CWs: set before 88 ford started, parental death mention, fighting/violence, brief undertones of organized crime, blood, disassociation, panic/anxiety attack, flawed (real) characters, language, misplaced anger, imposter syndrome, feelings of never being good enough, hurt/comfort as always, lore drop for yn <3

⤷ merry late christmas to @standcom and @wyrcan <333 I hope you enjoy it because this really pushed my writing limits and I think it came out way better than expected 

“What were you thinking?”

The same, old conversation that was drowned out behind the blood that still roared in her ears. Hot, boiling, and coursing through her veins as she kept her eyes to the ground; tracing over the cracked titles of the kitchen. 

“You weren't thinking. . .” 

Bits and pieces of the lecture came through here and there, and her jaw tightened at the accusation that was said out of anger. Her father was rough around the edges, callous, but kind when it came to her - his daughter. Always willing to take up arms and defend her if she was in the right, but this time she wasn't. 

“You coulda’ killed them!” A loud exclamation followed by a sigh and a screech of a chair. Her father had sat down roughly and leaned back, dragging his hands over his face before correcting his tone. “You coulda’ fucking killed them. . .”

“I wish I did.” 

The room fell silent at her remark. Her eyes never left the green tile of the floor, tracing over the cracks and dents with bruised, bloodshot eyes. Even still, she could feel her father's gaze harden on her. When she was little, she straightened up with that look; the repercussions of being grabbed by the ear from her late mother and lectured by her father was a big enough deterrent. Only this time it wasn't. 

The kitchen tap dripped, and the small splash echoed in her ears alongside the blood. Muddled together in a duo of chaos, and she closed her eyes. “I would've if Kita didn't pull me back.” 

“Well, thank fuckin’ god for Kita.” 

“I heard the woman died because the boss is into some shady shit. He's fucking stupid, getting his wife caught up in it-”

Her breath hitched in her throat at the words, and she felt her blood run cold. An accusation she heard here and there, that simply wasn't true. Her father did relatively clean work, though he did dabble; under the table work that he kept close to his chest - never, under any circumstances, did he put his family in harm's way. Her mother passed from a health complication; although, it didn't frankly matter, as people would believe anything other than the truth. 

“What the hell did you just say?” Her voice was firm, standoffish, and cold when she uttered a warning. She turned in a sharp snap, and bit her cheek hard when she realized it was a worker. A farm hand, her father’s help that she regularly had quarrels with. 

“He got his wife killed-” the person turned and she watched their eyes widen in horror. A sense of grief and terror engulfed them as she stood with her jaw tight and hands balled into fists. A sight to be held was the woman and her anger - scorned and violent. “Shit. . . I didn't-” 

But she didn't allow them to finish, not a syllable more, as the harsh crack of a fist hitting skin was the only thing that followed the abrupt pause. Quick to anger, slow to cool, a tornado of a woman barreling through an open plain as she stepped back with a huff. She watched them teeter back, held their nose with a loud groan as blood started to drip down their hands and onto the grass. “What the hell is wrong with you?” A pointed, rhetorical question from the person accused, “you're fucking crazy! Your whole family is batshit, I see where you get it from!” 

That's when she lost herself entirely.

Red and orange were always her favorite colors. It matched the sunset every evening, it mirrored the leaves that would fall down in her favorite season, it reminded her of oranges and apples that she would get at the farmers market. They were warm colors, happy colors.

But now, red was tainted.

Red was metallic and caused a stench that made her soul stop in its tracks. Red was what she saw when she lost herself in anger; red was too hot to touch but too cold to let out in solitude. Red was what dripped from her knuckles, her mouth, every gash and cut she received after she threw the first punch. 

Her chest heaved for air, sputtering and coughing, but unrelenting as she landed blow after blow - after blow. Her vision was blurry; sweat, tears, and blood pooled in her eyes that made it all the more difficult to see what she was doing - to witness the damage she was inflicting.

“I'll fuckin’ kill you!” Was the only sentence she managed to string together in her rage. Every other word was gibberish, curses, or insults laced with venom. A sharp tongue that knew no bounds, had little to no restrictions, but didn't know death threats until now. Didn't know the weight of such words until it passed her lips, but she only used the weight to her advantage, and kept going. 

The woman hadn't felt the forceful hands on her, too lost in incoherent rage to even feel cold fingers on scorched skin. She didn't fight the hands on her, as she didn't realize they were there until she was yanked backwards. Only then did she notice the ice cold fingers, squeezing her arms within a vice like grip as she was dragged back. “Get the hell off me!” 

She lunged forward and broke away, clawing at straws to attack the one person within her sights - a rabid animal that had a taste for blood and couldn't get enough. But once again, she was forced back; jerked with a force that normally would've taken her breath away, but now she didn't even have it to begin with. She fought against whomever held her; kicked, scratched, and clawed at the person who's only words were “please.” She turned within the grip, fist balled tight to deter anyone with the iron will to keep holding her, and reared back. 

Though, she didn't swing. 

Her fist didn't connect with a jaw per usual, it didn't connect with anything. The sharp snap of a punch wasn't heard, because she froze when she saw familiar brown eyes wide in concern. She watched as eyes flickered over her face in worry rather than horror, compassion rather than fear. And lowered her hand when she watched his eyes meet with it then return back to her. 

A fraction of a second, a brief silence and breath of air, before she fought against his hold again. The red in her eyes never faded, but would never be directed at him. “Let go of me, Kita! Get the hell off me!” 

“Y'know I can't do that, ma'am.” His voice was gentle and kind, despite the situation he found himself in and screams from her in comparison. 

“Like hell you can't! Let go! They talked about my mom, get the fuck off me, I swear to god-” 

“And now they know not to, you showed them what happens when they do. So, please-” 

“It's not enough!” 

“You'll hurt yourself if you do anymore!” His voice had a snap to it that she couldn't ignore, and she felt him pull her back again. Only this time, she fought a little less, made it a bit easier for him to do so. “You're already bleeding, ma'am, so please, just walk with me.”

So she did.

In silence, begrudgingly, as she kept turning her head to look back at the scene she walked away from. She felt him pull at her arm again, far more gently than the latter. “We need to get you cleaned up.” She took a sharp breath and nodded at his words. 

The woman sat silent, unmoving, as she watched the man through blurry eyes. Rummaging around in the medicine cabinet for something, anything, to aid her. But she only sighed. Sighed when he told her to take a seat earlier, sighed when he handed her whatever frozen food he found in the freezer for her black eye, and sighed when he finally found what he was looking for.

For once, the man didn't give her a small smile. Didn't tell her everything was alright, didn't remind her that workers are fickle and usually standoffish. Instead he was silent. Unspoken words remained in his mind, rather than his tongue. She sighed once more at the thought and frowned.

“You're upset with me,” spoken in a whisper, as the eye that wasn't covered with a frozen food flickered over to him.

“No, ma'am, I'm not.” A pause settled between them as she watched him look her over and frown. He placed a bottle of peroxide beside him, along with a roll of paper towels, before he sat down in front of her - the chair screeched against the kitchen floor. “They shouldn't have been talking about your family.”

“You're saying they deserve to be on the brink of death?” Pointed and distanced, she knew better than to think he would agree but asked in frustration. The heat of the emotion soothed her well more than any other; at least anger felt like a warm hug rather than a frigid slap.

He locked eyes with her for only a moment, desperately tried to decipher the swirling and dipping within them, but turned his gaze when he couldn't. Instead, he let out a breath as he took the bottle of peroxide and tipped it into a paper towel. “I'm saying they shouldn't talk about your family.”

The woman only hummed at the notion, but the grotesque feeling of shame crept up to her. He was disappointed, though he wouldn't say it, and it made her stomach tie in knots at the mere thought. Kita was compassionate, endearing, but cold and calculated when it came to his beliefs. What was right, in his eyes, would always outweigh all else.

She felt him rub that coarse paper towel over her arm, and hissed as the liquid on it seeped into wounds. He continued on in silence; however, only pausing to give her a moment's peace from pain every now and then. But the surge of true agony came when he moved to her knuckles, busted and bloodied - broken.

The yelp she let out, followed by a string of swears, made him pull away and look at her in worry. It was as if he put the disappointment on the back burner without a second thought, removed it from the forefront of his mind as soon as he believed he had truly hurt her. “I think your knuckles are broken,” a wary sentence, but not spoken from fear.

“No shit, Kita,” she groaned as she placed the, now thawed, food down on the table from her eye. The frustration never, really, left her from earlier, only festered and bubbled until it came to a head once more. She pulled her hand away from him and looked down, finally taking in the blood and bruises that littered her. Her dominant hand was swollen, knuckles busted and caked in blood - some hers, some not - and her eyes flickered over to the other hand.

The non-dominant seemed far worse, as the man in front of her hadn't moved to it, hadn't cleaned it. She found it hard to take in the sight, battered and bloodied never seemed to be exactly what she wished for, and moved her gaze to him. “God-” muttered under her breath as she tried to make a fist, but stopped upon realizing she couldn't. “They're definitely broken.”

“You'll have to get it checked out,” to which she only sighed and agreed. “Can I have your other arm, then? I don't want to hurt you.” She nodded.

She never realized how cold the man ran until his fingers were touching her palm, almost holding it as he repeated the same process from before on her other arm. She knew it meant nothing, only for ease to clean her wounds, but her cheeks felt hot regardless. His fingers were calloused from work, but his touch was gentle, as if he'd break her at any moment from being too rough. It was a care she hadn't felt from another in a long time.

“You should let your boyfriend know you broke your knuckles.” There was a twinge of discontent in his tone, his voice falling down as he spoke of another in her life, a tone she failed to notice. A timbre that always went over her head, as Kita Shinsuke, in her mind, would never go for a woman like her - harsh and callous. Wild and standoffish. Everything he believed against.

“Why?”

“Might worry him,” he shrugged. “I'd be worried if my partner broke their knuckles.”

“I don't think he'd be too worried,” she began and his eyes flickered to meet hers, brows scrunched in confusion. “I broke up with him.” She heard him hum in response. In reality, the man was over the moon about the news, but would never let it show. All too often did he notice the woman’s past partners, and each and every one didn’t tick the boxes that were required of them by her. Whether it be demanding, brash, or an out right lack of character, he always heard about them, and he always kept silent. “‘Said I was too intense and should calm down, so I told him to fuck off. ‘Said I was crazy too,” she sighed and dropped her eyes to her hand. “Maybe he's right.”

He shook his head and pulled away from her arm, nearly cleaned off so he decided to give her a break from the stinging liquid. “He's not.”

“You're just saying that so you don't end up like the other person just now.”

“Regardless of what happened, I don't think you're crazy.” A wave of deja vu hit him then; having had the conversation before with her a number of times, and every time it made his heart sink further. He hoped one day she would find someone to make her happy, to treat her well; whether or not that was him, he didn't mind. As long as the woman in front of him found the joy she so greatly deserved, he believed he could die content. “I think he's an asshole for saying something so wrong. You deserve someone who treats you with respect, like an equal.”

Her lips pulled into a small smile at the notion, hearing his voice change slightly in frustration. A barely there emotion for him, but one the woman poked and prodded at whenever it arose. “I didn't know you knew how to swear,” she mused, and kept the same smile. There was a long silence that filled the room, and she closed her eyes to enjoy it for once as her smile slowly dropped. Anger was the only emotion she truly felt at peace with, the sticky, hot emotion felt nice even if it burned her right down to the embers. Flames felt better than the frost bite of the cold.

The man remained silent as he returned to cleaning her wounds, focusing now on her non-dominant hand that wasn’t fractured. Beneath blood and dirt, he found hands he never took the time to look at. Calloused, from what he imagined to be a life’s work of farm chores, and scarred from other altercations. Knuckles littered with small scrapes and bumps from a life filled with vengeance, proving herself to be as strong as she spoke, and an anger that fueled every wrongdoing she ever made.

Once he was done, he pulled away once more. He held a small frown as his eyes looked over her face. Blood spattered and bruised, and a black ring started to form under her left eye. Her eyes were closed; however, and she seemed rather peaceful despite the juxtaposition of her attire. But he had grown accustomed to seeing her pull her mind away from whatever was going on, removing herself from a situation all while being there physically. An unhealthy, testy habit he learned she picked up years ago. Fight or flight always moved from decimate to flee.

“May I clean your cheek?” He asked quietly, and she nodded at his question that broke the silence. She felt her breath hitch in her throat; however, when he scooted closer to her. Knees just barely touched as she heard his chair screech against the kitchen floor. The man radiated warmth, the fleeting touch on her knee sent a shockwave through her soul, and she hated it. She reopened her eyes to look at him, to tell him to move back, but was rendered speechless when she did. Kita looked at her like she was the only woman in the world that mattered, and it made her want to heave.

His eyes were focused as he pressed the peroxide soaked paper towel on her cheek, unwavering and respectful as he looked over her features. “They got you pretty good.” Spoken through a barely there smile, and her breath failed her. He was close enough she could smell the earthiness of his clothes, sweat and dirt muddled with the soap from his laundry detergent. And for the first time in her life she felt flustered.

“Yeah,” she whispered, and turned her eyes away from his own. “But you saw how they looked.” He only hummed in response and her eyes moved down his physique, finally taking them in. The man had strong, toned arms hidden underneath long sleeves, but was rather small in comparison to how much he was capable of - brute force she often coined as ‘cowboy strength.’ As her eyes wandered further, she noticed the dirt and mud on his pants, and specks of blood that seeped through denim; she came to the conclusion the blood was her own, as the only scratches on the man were on his hands. “I'm sorry.”

He seemed taken back by the words at first, unfamiliar with the phrase to come from the woman. But quickly brushed it off as if it were nothing. “For what? You didn't do nothin’ to me.”

“Fightin’ you so hard,” she mumbled before wincing as he touched the peroxide to another cut on her cheek.

He mumbled a gentle, “sorry,” before she continued on.

“You were just trying to help.” Slowly but surely, she began to resent her own actions because of how much the man inserted himself in them. Oftentimes, coming far too close for comfort at the end of her hellish anger. But even still, he remained. Not once did Kita ever stray away, despite how gruesome or ugly things became. It made her stomach tie in knots, and the blood in her veins run scalding hot - she believed down to her every fiber that she should hate him for it. But she couldn’t.

“Don't worry-”

“Can it,” she cut him off with a harsh breath. “Don't sit here and tell me not to worry about it, when I know you’re probably all black and blue.”

“It's fine, I-”

“But it's not fine,” she huffed. “You put up this front of being so compassionate, sweet, and kind. But I know, deep down, you think I'm the biggest idiot alive; flying off the handle again just because someone had some choice words.” Her voice had gotten louder with every phrase, and she didn’t notice he had pulled away. The woman had a knack for biting and snapping at those who aided her, she always believed they didn’t mean such words. She would always bite the hand that fed her, and she didn’t care if she starved as a result.

“Why would I think that?”

He phrased the question gently, thoughtfully, as he knew one wrong move meant the dial got turned to max. But the fire already roared in her eyes, so he sat there and bore the blaze regardless. “Because everyone thinks that!” Her voice was loud in comparison to the quiet kitchen, but pained when every syllable came out forced. There was a moment's pause and he watched her let out a loud sigh before she continued on. “Everyone thinks that, Kita,” she repeated, softer as he saw her shoulders drop. “I'm the crazy woman with an already lit fuse just waiting to blow up.”

Her eyes returned to the man in that moment, and watched as his eyes flickered over her face. Slow and methodical, calculated but not cold. As if he were trying to figure out how she ticked, to see the gears turning in her mind. “I wish you'd give yourself more credit, ma'am.”

“What?” Was all that managed to slip past her lips, brows scrunched and mind unsure.

“Give yourself more credit,” he reassured. “So you're angry? Anger doesn't make you crazy, it makes you human. People just don't realize they got something good until it's gone.”

“I'm not a good person, Kita. I-”

“Sure you are.” She didn't think the man was one to cut her off, or frankly had the gumption to do so, but she promptly closed her mouth when he did. There was something about the man she found captivating - enthralling. She found it endearing to be in his presence, feeling almost normal as he spoke to her like anyone else, like an equal. His kindness never went unnoticed, despite how it filled her with a heat she found foreign and misjudged for anger. “If you weren't a good person, you wouldn't do the things you do.”

The man continued on per usual, back to treating her cuts and scrapes as if it were something to brush off. He tipped the peroxide once more into a paper towel, and leaned in, and once more she found herself flushed over the proximity. “Like what exactly?”

“You're one of the most hardworking people I know,” he began with a small smile. “You're steadfast in your beliefs, you're loyal, and you care a lot more than you let on.” His touch was gentle, even as he scrubbed and wiped at the dried blood on her face. A care that was meticulous, a care that made her stomach churn. “You don't let your dad work in the fields anymore since he's gotten older, you treat every worker you're on good terms with like an old friend, and I don't think I've ever seen you let someone leave here hungry - friend or foe alike.”

A sharp tongue and vile words had no sanction here, no foothold as she swallowed hard. Her vision became fogged as eyes welled with tears, an action that was foreign - an action that felt wrong. She bit her tongue hard at the feeling, and swallowed once more, briskly fighting off the lump in her throat and the sorrowful emotion in one fell swoop. The woman was sorely mistaken that she had succeeded, and felt the sickly drip of a tear run down her face.

She had expected him to acknowledge it, to coddle her, like many did when she was young. To give pity even though it felt like a steak knife through the gut, and to wallow in the emotion with her. Because what was worse than a poor woman crying? But he didn't. Instead, she felt him wipe it away. Simply and softly, even going as far to disguise his action through wiping at the blood just under her eye.

“You're a good person.” He assured, “even good people get angry and do things they shouldn't.”

It was as if she felt the world stop spinning. Forever locked in a perpetual cycle of wanting to vomit and wanting to engulf the man in a hug. But she did neither, as all she could do was stare. To lock eyes with him and hope he would never pull away, to keep the moment until the end of her days. “Shinsuke?”

The call of his given name made his stomach lurch to his throat, and he felt his cheeks get hot at the notion alone. He faltered in his actions, only for a second, before he continued on. “Yes, ma'am?”

“You're not scared of me at all, are you?”

“No.” He assured, and he gave her a small smile. A smile that said it was alright, a smile that held the compassion she needed. “Not at all.”

taglist (open, send an ask)

@wyrcan @chizunata @seroh @chemiru @standcom

@h3xi2g0n3 @localgaytrainwreck @mollyrolls @causenessus @diorzs

@rory-cakes @phoenix-eclipses @pattys-got-cakes @girlkissersco

@jaynawayna @aliensstolemyheart @le000xxgrd @cherrypieyourface @theycallmenanamisgirl

@softpia @bokutoko @guitarstringed-scars @totallytatum @bakery-anon

@hyunteru @kameyyy @nekozaki @eggyrocks @angelichwv

@wakashudou @a-girl-cant-decide-on-a-name @localgaytrainwreck

[le-trash-prince]

Sorry for jumping in on a conversation, but I agree with so much of this I don't even know where to start.

when did we start only wanting media that is perfectly suited to our standards? I've been thinking a lot about this lately bc ppl will complain about a show that is all fanservice and no plot but then the same ppl will turn around and call it homophobic when a show decides to skimp on fanservice in favor of plot, and while I know that there is a middle ground, I don't think every show needs to hit that middle ground in order to have value.

it seems like a really exhausting and slightly puritan way to do things, to be constantly finding imperfections and treating them as more important than the good parts. dunno about y'all but i don't want to be unintentionally enacting puritan shit.

^ this hits SUCH a chord with me bc ppl will performatively make fun of puritans to signal that they're part of the In Crowd, but turn around and tear down a show for not aligning with their sense of ethics bc a character was/wasn't "punished by the narrative." I've even seen ppl say that queer POC writers have no business writing certain topics until their viewpoint aligns with whatever that OP thinks is correct. Ppl don't even get how puritan they're being and it's so frustrating

it becomes a game of liking the right show at the right time to get that sense of belonging. And some people can feel isolated again for not liking the show that everyone seems to love right now, so they want to at least find community in sharing their criticism.

^ this. especially with how quickly ppl move from fandom to fandom (hard to blame them when there's 543231 BL shows coming out a year), ppl fall back on criticism bc it's guaranteed to draw a strong reaction. But I think it's a rather shallow sense of community compared to the kind built around creativity. I've been into BL for over 20 years now, and I have friendships lasting just as long that were built around creativity.

Fandom used to have an attitude that the thing to do is create things if you weren't happy with the canon media, but these days that attitude is drastically different.

I've definitely seen ppl in BL tumblr deriding the fanfic mindset, as if fandom wasn't built on the backs of fanfic and doujinshi. People will act as if it’s intellectually inferior to want to engage with a show on a creative level rather than demanding that it change itself to our whims. They say that if a show is good enough, no one would need to add anything to it. Which I agree, is a deeply consumerist mindset. Even if creatives may be perfectionists, the act of creation isn’t about seeking perfection. Transformative fanworks are about collaborative artz

Many of the biggest voices in QL fandom don't make any type of fanwork, and I would argue are not part of larger transformative fandom as it exists on the verge of 2025

Plain and simple agree 🙌 It’s really easy to tell when someone lacks a practical understanding of the creative process, and I know it’s something a lot of creatives in BL/GL tumblr have frustrations with. It becomes difficult to take someone’s opinions seriously when they demonstrate ignorance of storytelling while trying to prop their opinions up by using as many words as possible.

One of the reasons I think sense-of-belonging is part of the problem, is that one constant I see in criticisms is to distance a piece of media from 'being actually queer'. For every single queer fandom I ever dipped my toe in, I have seen the 'this is for straight girls' accusation.

^ THIS TOO (i meant it when I said I agreed with too much). It’s especially frustrating when I see self-proclaimed straight allies trying to make claims over what is or isn’t queer enough… Please stop talking over us thanks. I also don’t think it’s the end of the world if a straight person enjoys a BL. I want to be able to enjoy queerness in many forms, I want to be able to share the things I love with my family, and I also know that BL helped me process my own queerness when I thought I was straight, and putting queer media in front of “straight” people can help them on their journey. I think the BL industry is certainly large enough today that it doesn’t need to be shoved into a box of “if this doesn’t upset straight ppl then it’s not queer enough.”

In terms of fandom engagement, for the time being I just try to tailor my expectations about the size of a fandom and acknowledge that the transformative side of the fandom is in the minority and number of viewers in the tag ≠ size of the fandom. Otherwise it can feel really gutting when it looks like there’s a large audience but silent audience. Still, even if we’re only reaching a small number of people, we can always try to encourage other creators and stir up conversations that generate transformative activity. In the end, the critics will leave a fandom as soon as a show is over, and when they’re gone, the ones left will be the ones who want to make something.

(I also think antis have played a large part in dismantling transformative fandom bc ppl have personally told me how nervous they get about posting or engaging with anything that could be interpreted as problematic, and rampant criticism of a show may similarly play a part in people not feeling comfortable creating for a fandom)

a question for QL fandom at large: when did we start only wanting media that is perfectly suited to our standards?

there has never been a perfect show, and there never will be a perfect show, because everybody likes different things and QL is run on shoestring budgets. i thought this was something we made our peace with as viewers of the genre!

so i'm just wondering at what point fandom decided that a show is only worthy of praise/fandom if it has no problems?

at what point did we decide that talking about the problems of a show is more important than talking about what we did enjoy and what kept us watching? i don't know when it happened, but it definitely has. critique is treated more seriously and gets more interaction than people talking about what they like.

it seems like a really exhausting and slightly puritan way to do things, to be constantly finding imperfections and treating them as more important than the good parts. dunno about y'all but i don't want to be unintentionally enacting puritan shit.

i want joy, i want fun, i want the spirit of camaraderie in fandom.

so, why did fandom begin to snub any media that didn't fit very high standards? and how can we steer ourselves away from that impulse?

(i am genuinely curious about why this is happening and how those of us who don't enjoy it can change, so please feel free to jump in, even if you are 'late' or think you only have a very small contribution to make to the discussion.)

[blackswallowtailbutterfly]

Can I ask when the last time “dick worshipper”, etc. has actually been used by a radblr woman? Not a black-pill orbiter; they’re awful to everyone and don’t tend to last long here. I mean from someone in radblr, claiming to be a radical feminist or supporting radical feminism. I know it used to be fairly common years ago. So did political lesbianism, which pissed everyone off for different reasons. Most of those people either left or just don’t show up in my circles anymore, and those that do again don’t last long. So where is this coming from? I see it referenced but no recent examples. I am seeing a hell of a lot of recent homophobia from women in radblr though. Every woman I’ve seen addressing the homophobia has stated the misogynistic terms aren’t okay, again, even though from what I’ve seen it hasn’t happened for a long time. Whereas I’m seeing a ton of defensiveness and doubling down in regards to the homophobia. And there seems to be this demand of all lesbians and non-lesbian pro-separatist women to denounce the “dick worshipper” type comments, and it’s like, A) they already have and B) if they’re not the ones who said it can you stop conflating pro-separatist arguments with that shit? Again, this is just what I’ve seen. Maybe the “dick-worshipper” comments are all over some areas of radblr, but they’re not from anyone I follow or have seen on my dash for years. I’d say for the last four or five years the only time I’ve seen it is from women asking not to be called that--which, I agree, I don’t want to be called that and I don’t want to see other women called that. It’s just, I haven’t been called it or seen it for a long time, so something’s not adding up.

[dreamsy990]

you know i used to think it was weird how sora and roxas have such different personalities for supposedly being 'the same person' but after playing a few games i sort of realized that they do have similar personalities, because roxas acts how sora does when he's under extreme stress.

compare roxas to sora in, say, kh1. that's where a lot of peoples idea of sora's personality comes from. sora is generally very upbeat and optimistic in that game. not very similar to roxas, right?

but let's switch the game and talk about a game where sora is ABSOLUTELY GOING THROUGH IT. chain of memories.

sora's resting state is melancholy in com. he only ever cheers up in short bursts, usually when he's joking around with friends. just like roxas.

he's quick to anger, and tends to lash out at the organization members. best example of this is when larxene makes him 'remember' namine, and he swings at her repeatedly, even after she's gone. he only stops when jiminy is able to snap him out of it.

you know what scene that resembles?

sora, while a bit more on the angry side and less sad, continues to act like this in kh2 when he's in stressful situations. (he also has a tendancy to insult people which, while it's not very related to the point, is very funny and sora saying 'gonna cry?' to xigbar is great.) i cant comment any further than that about kh2 off the top of my head.

so, roxas acts like sora does when he's stressed, right? but why is roxas always acting like that? to which i say, he isnt!

he only ever acts like that when he's also in fucked up and stressful situations, which happens to be a CONSTANT in his life. but when he's hanging out with axel and xion, a decidedly NOT stressful situation, he's a lot more like sora. he's teasing his friends and insulting his coworkers and joking around and acting like a normal kid. not really important, but unless i misremembered some sora lines which is VERY possible, both roxas and sora respond to friendly insults with "oh thanks!" a lot. just a funny little detail that felt relevant.

the biggest differences between roxas and sora boil down to environment and... i dont know how to put it besides volume? roxas is very quiet and tends to keep most of his thoughts to himself, while sora is very loud and expressive in comparison.

there is one other huge difference i noticed, which is less character based and more story. sora wanted to get off destiny islands and explore with his friends, but roxas just wanted routine. sora wants adventure, and roxas wants things to stay the same, for days where he gets off work and eats ice cream with his friends to last forever, to keep having conversations about nothing and watching the sunset. roxas wants normalcy, sora wants excitement. it's just interesting seeing their contrast.

not sure if this is very well said or anything i just wanted to talk about my boys

[danandfuckingjonlmao]

if i had a nickel for every time dan blamed phannies for something that he did i would have enough money to build my own phorever home 😪

[demidonewithshit]

For someone who claims to not want to try and defend Mothy and that the doc is about you, you sure do spend most of it yapping about how Mothy didn't know better and making excuses for them, and how you're both such a victim when you were provided a doc with screenshots of the shit she sent to minors ages ago- because you responded to those accusations against her back then and denied they were true. You saying you didn't even bother looking at them? Or were you defending a groomer even after looking at them? There were plenty of screenshots in the doc exposing Mothy that were unacceptable. If it were my online friend I would want to at least look at the claims so i could properly defend them rather than just blindly claiming its false and taking their word for it when you literally don't know this person very well because they're a stranger online you've gotten to know. That's how you end up being called a groomer too, because not only did you send 18+ content to a public minor, you also publicly supported someone that frequently sent porn to minors.

Also, why did it take you 2 years to delete that fic you wrote for a minor? Sure you apologised ages ago, but why did it take you so long to finally delete it? If you were actually sorry you would have deleted it the moment you knew the person was a minor and they weren't comfortable with it- which you knew because you apologised for it. Also, that minor has MINOR plastered all over their blog. So either you willfully ignored it or apparently just never looked at the blog of someone who's au you apparently loved so much.

And it's funny you say you and Mothy never spoke of 18+ things because it makes you uncomfortable when you literally wrote nsfw for a minor. Which is it? Clearly you were fine writing 18+ content for a minor, but talking about it with another adult was apparently uncomfortable for you.

You may never have said that minors don't deserve justice, but you realising how defending their groomer looks right? You're essentially calling them liars or saying it wasn't that bad or making excuses that Mothy shouldn't be held responsible because of x y z reason and their mental health. They were 19. That's way old enough to know better. Mental health is a reason not an excuse, and it doesn't make what Mothy did any better or more acceptable.

And boy, doesn't it say something you admit she hid the truth from you? She lied to you and you're still defending her? That says a lot about you and is also why people are rightfully calling you out for supporting grooming behaviour.

I am not a groomer

This post is in response to the terrible accusations @Alexandraisyes has made against me. Any criticism or evidence you see, that can be used to support or agree to Alex, anyone can freely say below or send me an ask, I am willing to answer and refute anything provided.

These are the three main points I want to discuss and cover in my post:

1. Evidence against Alex's accusations that I am a groomer.

2. Explaining why I am still friends with Mothy, the one everyone is calling a child groomer.

3. An announcement that I will do everything I can to take this matter to court if I am not given a satisfactory explanation and apology. The bottom line is that I demand removal of my name and any mentions of me in the doc made by Alex. Pedophilia is the worst and most terrible crime one can commit to another human being. I’ve been carelessly and thoughtlessly accused of this crime with no proof. Someone actually has the audacity to accuse me of harming another in such a disgusting way despite me being, very close, friends with people who have been sexually abused.

Here's a link to the document:

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1geLNDVU5YU3PZtpbG5ZfYLHoTkMTx0ab_sh3Lqgh0P4/edit?usp=drivesdk

I got permission from Mothy to post information about them and screenshots from them. I also got permission from the other friend mentioned here but I'm not sharing their name by their request. Rest of the informations and screenshots are public.

[starwikia]

suicide cw

look i have been in this area before mentally. it sucks and i wouldn’t wish this on anyone. but, and this is going to sound callous, but i don’t feel any sympathy for james somerton. even if i hope he’s like. not dead. But thats all the amount of goodwill im willing to give him. The more i think about this really, the more angry i am. 

ngl this entire situation is another example of how white people weaponize their mental illness to avoid consequences. Im seeing it in real time.

this man has a continuous habit of using self-harm as a get-out-of-jail-for-free card. in both of his apologies, he has worded his supposed attempts in ways that were clearly meant to guilt people who displayed his plagiarism and overall horrendous history of racism and misogyny. i say supposed because, while i’m not saying those are lies and this would he such a fucked up thing to lie about that i don’t want to think he has, unfortunately, it’s been proven again and again that his word can’t be trusted, as he’s known to lie to try get out of consequences. Hes a proven liar. him lying about this is actually the best case scenario, because no one should go through this entire situation, wouldnt wish this on anyone, but you can only do this so often before people stop sympathizing with you. is this callous? Yeah, but like. I’m actually fucking angry he cant straight up take no as an answer. that this is how he reacts realizing he cant be one of the Cool Kidz™️ on youtube anymore. he acts like he DESERVES a career, like its not a privilege hes lost due to his own actions.

He lied about apologizing and forgiving people, he lied about giving the money to hbomberguy to give to ppl he ripped off (yknow, instead of doing it himself), he lied about the jessie gender situation and rewrote the narrative to make it so he isnt the bad guy, and hes the victim all along actually!

you can’t tell me that supposed last message of his isn’t meant to be a 13 reasons why esq attempt to deflect the blame “look i’m going to kill myself and it’s all YOUR PEOPLES FAULT for not letting me achieve my DREAM of being filmmaker IN PEACE!!! I just wanted Nick’s (the guy who I have thrown under the bus again and again) portfolio up!! Im just being a good friend dont you all FEEL BAD” he refuses to take ANY ACCOUNTABILITY of any of his actions and he IS STILL trying to shove the blame over to other people again.

it’s also pretty ironic people are like “uhhh well hbomber’s fans harassed him!!!” like hbomber outright told people NOT to HARASS JAMES!!! ALSO acting as if james doesn’t have a very real documented history of STRAIGHT UP sending his fans to harass and threaten smaller creators, more notably women, trans, and bipoc creators. especially after he’s stolen typically very personal anecdotes so he could profit from them. so why can he do it but the second people are like “hey this guys an actual piece of shit.” and he can’t handle it suddenly people are trying to white knight his shit? like no he doesn’t get that. he doesn’t get that at all just because he couldn’t handle the consequences of his actions. 

what? were supposed to stay quiet about a man profiting off of other minorities because he wanted to be the spokesman for all gay people? people tried to solve this on a smaller, more private scales for YEARS and he kept doing it. it was clear that the giant public video was the ONLY way to get people to notice. HE WOULDVE GOTTEN AWAY WITH STEALING 87 FUCKING THOUSANDS WORTH OF DOLLARS. HE CANT HANDLE THE FACT HE CANT GET AWAY WITH IT. 

am i supposed to feel bad for the guy who basically threatened a trans woman with the police? i don’t care what anyone says, it’s so fucking obvious that he threatened jessie by implying he was getting the police involved in their conflict. what am i supposed to act like that didn’t happen? are we supposed to pretend like he didn’t glorify nazi’s and outright said that gay people made up a good chunk of the nazis? That he didnt say america joined ww2 bc they were jealous of the NAZIS. WHAT WOULD POSSESS YOU TO FUCKING SAY THAT. but then? He gives women (not even women most of the time, he misgenders nonbinary ppl constantly) shit for writing mlm. are we supposed to act like he doesn’t straight-up sees himself superior and better than people of color and steals their works to put himself on a pedestal? Are we supposed to act like he didnt spit on our elders by saying “only the boring gays survived aids” like man! Fuck you! He BLANTANTLY MAKES UP HISTORY TO PUT HIMSELF ON A PEDESTAL!! HE ACTIVELY TRIED TO REWRITE LGBT HISTORY TO SUIT HIS FUCKED UP NARRATIVES!

yes this sucks ! no one deserves this but no one should be making him a martyr. Thats what he fucking WANTS! He wants to be immortalized as a victim!! (again, supposedly, it was reported hes alive but its not confirmed).

The shit he got isnt near the amount of fucking callous behavior hes done again and again. Again, to drill this point, EVEN IF HE DIDNT CALL THE POLICE HE THREATENED A TRANS WOMAN INTO THINKING HE DID!!! The fact he tried to use a head injury to justify years of the outright ghoulish shit fucking astounds me. Why the fuck did anyone in his life thought it was a good idea to let him TRY to come back. in the end, he had options. he didn’t need to try to make a comeback. HE DIDNT NEED TO FUCKING LIE OR IGNORE THE SHIT HE WAS CALLED OUT ON the reality is, he wanted to come back thinking he could shove it under the rug, was told that no dude, you’re not allowed to be a youtuber anymore. you’re done. you need to move on and went full nuclear. it’s not on anyone’s hands but his own. HES BEEN DOING THIS TO HIMSELF!! But nah man we cant call his shit out bc hell may or may not kill himself. Fuck the other minorities who have the same issues but worse and sometimes BECAUSE of him. This is going to SUCKKKK so bad when other ppl, specifically white gays, are going to weaponize this shit to get away with their stuff.

[clock0fmeantime]

chnt fandom was so mean to you and for what🙁ur so cool..

i can think of a couple reasons

[redhotarsenic]

Man imagine whining because I called you a moron when you’re in fact being a moron

[nemiisnemisis]

just here to say one thi- actually no, two things:

ahem.. IM NOT A LEONA METHOD ACTOR NOR AM I A FURRY.

[uncanny-tranny]

I saw somebody discuss it a while back ago, but it was so affirming and I wanted to open a similar discussion here...

I've noticed in myself and others this intense (genuine) trigger response to people not understanding us or our words or whatever it may be, and it can feel so important that you correct people, that people know you, not a shitty cut-out version of you.

I think this is a valid response, of course. It is completely understandable, and I get where it comes from. When I was in the middle of abuse, I was misrepresented in order to be abused, so it can be a genuine trigger for something "small" you said, did, or are to be misinterpreted or twisted into something it isn't. It turns from, "this person didn't bother reading what I'm saying," to, "this person might be just like them, they're going to hurt me."

My overall point is that a huge part of living is this misinterpretation of you or your character, and it isn't your fault, and it isn't in your control. Hell, even, a huge aspect of language itself is in not being able to fully represent you or what you're saying because language is interpretive and based (in part) on other people's interpretation of what you said. They fill in the blanks with their own experiences, desires, or their own character, and at some point, it isn't really about you, you know?

My biggest piece of advice is learning how to let people be wrong. This shit, of trying to correct every single person? Personally, I have found it to be exhausting, and it feels like I'm blaming myself not only for everybody's interpretation of every little thing I do but also for abuse that led to this intense of a response. It's really hard to let people be wrong, yes, but it also has allowed me and permitted me to be more interested in my own life, not in my life in other people's brains. It's given me that specific freedom from abuse, from worry.

[arcane-vagabond]

me looking at my own blog: god i wish this bitch would stfu

[pa-pa-plasma]

fucking hate fighting with people's who's main strategy is straight up lying & screaming & crying until you give up trying to even attempt communicating. just coming up with the most batshit, insane lies they can think of to slander you & they literally just don't fucking stop, like persistence predator shit except they're just doing it to avoid having to take responsibility. what the fuck is going on in that kind of person's brain

[gayvampyr]

Do you support prison abolition /paying prisoners a living wage / making being able to vote more accessible to everyone?

I like your stances and opinions and your jokes but I'm genuinely curious on this one.

(This is inspired by some of the comments under one of your posts talking about how we should just make democracy more livable under capitalism, and while I disagree with that being the ONLY thing we need to do, it does kinda make me think about how many people think we need to get better without abolishing prisons or at least treating our prisoners better than we are treating them currently.)

hi! i'm not sure which post you're referring to but I'm actually anti-capitalist. I think we need to dismantle capitalism as a system because it is inherently inhumane, working exactly as intended and therefore cannot be "fixed" without restructuring it entirely from the ground up; the devaluation of human labor and environmental destruction for profit is not a bug, it's a feature. i could delve into the kind of economic system that i think should replace it after dismantling it, however it's more of a thought exercise and until it becomes a plausible reality, i would rather focus on how we can make capitalism livable for the time being because we have no other choice. for example we could start by lowering rent, instituting a 4-day work week, and establishing support networks for homeless people. i'm not an economist so it's not like i have all the answers but according to the results from other countries who have applied these practices, it improves quality of life and the economy significantly.

as for prisons, i'm pro-abolition. you can check out my prison abolition tag for more information, but essentially prisons exist in this day and age as an industry that profits off of slave labor. many of our laws and their enforcers unfairly target minorities and lower class people, and the denial of convicts the right to vote is just another way our government strips vulnerable communities of their political power, autonomy, and supposedly inalienable rights. aside from the conviction of innocent people and people who did commit a crime but ultimately did no harm, i don't think it's the right of any individual (or government, for that matter) to imprison others. i think people tend to forget that "criminals" are human beings and deserving of the same rights as everyone else, and it is human nature to make mistakes. the important thing is the opportunity to do better. militarist propaganda has done an incredible job of convincing us that convicts are amoral and undeserving of our sympathy, turning society in general against them and destroying any sort of safety net they might have had or needed otherwise. and people are too busy clinging to the notion that criminals are subhuman and deserving of whatever punishment is dealt that they can't see that this is a slide into fascism, and that they can just as easily become "other" should they find themselves on the receiving end of the system. we are very close to living in a surveillance state, which means any minor offense or slip-up has the potential to completely decimate your chances at getting a job, applying for college, getting a loan, receiving housing, and especially being able to have a say in elections. it also makes you more likely to be arrested again on account of "suspected illegal activity", so your record follows you around for the rest of your life.

sorry this got so long but yeah, essentially capitalism and the prison industry are inhumane and should be abolished.