#thank you for coming to my hater talk.

[vampthropologist]

Making a list of kins and f/o's to make a carrd eventually, and I've decided to compile a list of characters I have beef with.

To clarify, I just personally would fight these asshats and I'm not saying they're problematic or it's wrong to like them or whatever. I just have beef with them. We don't get along.

The list:

Kaito Vocaloid

Kaito Momota (DRV3)

Sundrop (FNAF SB)

Yushiro (KNY)

[piastrispastry]

Why am I seeing people blaming Lando for Trump being elected like he personally made that decision?

First off can I remind you all this man is a British citizen. He can’t vote in US elections even if he wanted so how on Earth is it his fault Trump got elected?

People refer to the comments from the Miami GP and honestly I hated that McLaren were chosen to host him for so many reasons but here’s as condensed and relevant as I can make this.

Lando and many other drivers like him are PR trained and when you have such a high profile guest such as Donald Trump in your garage for the weekend your PR team has probably given you approved responses to a variety of questions.

The answer Lando gave sounded so PR approved, it sounded sterile, non-committal really. And please correct me if I’m wrong but I’m sure in a stream he has expressed his dislike for Trump.

I also hated how he was asked this question in the first place. This man had just won his first race in over five years yet you use up your limited time on asking him about a controversial man which is guaranteed to get him hate. I know this is how the media works but it makes my skin crawl.

And to anyone saying the other two in the top three didn’t say anything, their teams weren’t hosting Trump. I’m sure if you asked Max about James Charles he probably would have given a similar PR approved answer.

Also, for the record, Trump said he was Lando’s good luck charm, not the other way round. I saw that on TikTok and it was just plain wrong.

So please can we stop blaming him for the results of an election he didn’t even vote in? The hate is getting mental by this point.

In conclusion, I know I am not American but I am a politics student and about as anti-Trump as they come (having argued with multiple boys in that class about him this week).

My heart goes out to every woman, POC, LGBTQIA+ member, child and anybody else who is going to be negatively affected by Trump’s administration. Please know that my inbox is always open if you need someone to talk to ❤️

[impossibleprincess35]

Politely and respectfully, I speak calmly into the void:

In the conversation about Satine's pride leading to the Shadow Collective and Maul gaining ground in Mandalore, I must disagree. Satine's pride had nothing to do with it because so long as Pre Vizsla and his quest for power was a factor, Mandalore was doomed.

Maul and the Shadow Collective didn't scope out the galaxy and find a flaw (re: pacifism) in Mandalore and go, "Oh, hey, there's our opportunity to infiltrate."

Pre Vizsla and Death Watch manufactured a plan in which they opened up the pathways and allowed Maul and the Shadow Collective to flood Sundari and stage a scene to undermine Satine's rule.

(I could write for hours about my thoughts on parallels between the attack on Sundari and the real life insurrection on the U.S. Capitol on 1/6/21, but I'll spare you all.)

Pre Vizsla committed acts of treason and endangered his own people, caring about nothing other than his goal of obtaining the seat of power with the weak justification that he would restore Mandalore to its warrior past. Bodies are dropping, people are being traumatized, and he's orchestrated these things - and he had to orchestrate them because otherwise, Mandalore was peaceful and safe.

And it wasn't just one event.

You had the attack on Sundari, but also the Peace Park bombing, and the incident on Concordia when he tried to kill Satine and Obi-Wan; and here's the thing about that, Obi-Wan was a visiting Jedi Master/General of the Grand Army of the Republic. Maybe the Republic would have turned a blind eye to Satine's death, but Obi-Wan's? Republic forces could have been on the ground in days with a full scale invasion. Such prowess! Much strategy! Wow.

Keep in mind, Pre thought he was going to double-cross Maul, throw him and his brother in a prison cell, and sit around victorious in the Grand Salon as if he had earned the throne through real merit. Had he been a real warrior and worthy of leading Mandalore, he would have achieved the seat of power through honorable means; but his pride led him to seek an alliance with shady crime syndicates and a fucking Sith, which was never going to work out in his favor.

And in the long run, what kind of ruler would Pre Vizsla have been if he hadn't been beheaded by Maul? His entire rise to power was built on deception. He would have become an absolute nightmare, wielding fear and the Darksaber, but not towards "enemies" in the galaxy, but towards his own people and those closest to him in an attempt to keep his power.

And what happens when Pre dies? Death Watch crumbles. The schism is profound and no one immediately rises up to carry on the work and keep the faction together and operational. Because what was the work? It was never really about restoring Mandalore to some glorified past. It was about Pre Vizsla's quest for power. Not even Bo-Katan honors the ways of their warrior past when Pre is bested in a duel for the Darksaber. Because it's never been about their warrior ways, so much as it was about Pre wanting the throne. (This paragraph is complete conjecture, but it's what I think and I'll die on this hill.)

Was Satine prideful at times? Yes, but blaming her for the fall of Mandalore is tantamount to finding no fault in Pre Vizsla's never-ending efforts to create conflict where there was none, all so that he could sit upon the throne for a few days until Maul rightly rocked his shit.

[hello-eeveev]

I’m sorry I’m confused; every so often, for like the last year at least, I see it treated as fact that Laudna is hated by the gods for being a Hollow One or that somehow her existence is defying them? and I do not understand where this has come from.

First off, if we are looking strictly at the events of c3, Laudna was brought back to life by a cleric and champion of the Everlight. And she still remained very much a Hollow One. Why would the Everlight do that if the gods as a group did not want Laudna to exist as she was?

Now iirc, Laudna has expressed fear that the Matron of Ravens would not be happy about her existence, and that’s fair, given that this is one of her edicts:

Undeath is an atrocity. Death is too good a punishment for those who pervert the rightful transition of the soul.

However: yes, the Matron doesn’t seem to be fond of undeath, but her vitriol pretty clearly lies with those who create undead (e.g. Delilah), moreso than those who live in it. So I think the Raven Queen would not be angry with Laudna herself, more angry for the suffering put upon her by the state of undeath. I don’t think she would smite Laudna down for literally just waking up one (very very bad) day as a Hollow One. It’s not like Laudna was trying to become undead or to unnaturally extend her life or cast off fate; she was murdered. But still, it’s fair that Laudna worries about that! She’s a fictional character with a limited scope of view and emotions that may not be informed by fact! I don’t want her to know everything and to be perfectly reasonable at all times. If that were the case, she wouldn’t be a good character, and she wouldn’t be Laudna.

But even if the RQ did hate Laudna for being a Hollow One, she’s just one deity. She doesn’t speak for the rest of the gods, so why would they have an issue with Laudna when they don’t seem to have a particular problem with undead (see: the base cleric spell list having both Animate and Create Undead).

So I don’t see where this rhetoric of “the gods hate laudna” comes from? She has not been personally victimized by the gods. She has been on the opposite side of a conflict to one, but she was revived by another. As far as I can tell, in all the text and supplementary materials, there is only one major deity who might be prejudiced towards her.

so yeah, I’m just confused where this came from and i’d like to know. if it seemed like it was a headcanon or a thought people were toying with, I wouldn’t care, but I’m seeing it being treated as a given and I don’t think that’s the case.

[bruhstation]

He's such a magnificent bastard I am pushing him down the stairs.

The “L” hand pose good lord. no holding back…. no mercy….. the utter disrespect is insane. so cold. this picture encapsulates the core of Casa Tidmouth spencer

[halfblood-princes-crown]

I think half of the reason that Snape is so popular is that he's a canon redeemed villain...the other half is that he's allowed to be bitter and petty against the people who hurt him.

I agree.

I think (maybe it’s just my personal experience, idk) Snape gave us what we couldn’t get in real life. Snaters are prime examples of people who tell victims of abuse to

• “get over it”

• Because “it wasn’t that bad”

• “But you did *this* so in my eyes they did a Justice”

• And “what exactly did you do before that happened? That’s why it happened to you”

• And let’s not forget that “being angry and impacted long term by the actions of others (AND their lack of consequences) isn’t called trauma, it’s called “holding grudges” and that’s childish”

For us, it was a damn statement that he held on to that shit. It was relatable that it affected him well into his adulthood and that he didn’t tolerate anyone telling him to do and feel otherwise. The books, whether Snaters want to admit it or not, laid it out: he was valid for hating them.

Even Harry saw the bullshit after he witnessed swm

And, like we see with Snape, trauma is villainous apparently. Because how dare what we went through negatively shape our thoughts, feelings, and perspectives? How dare our trauma force us to put up a wall around ourselves and become cold and unlikable as protection? How dare we do stupid things in hopes we’d be accepted SOMEWHERE because god knows the rest of society doesn’t give a shit…How dare us?

And how dare Snape show us that traumatized ppl don’t have to be lifeless husks but brave mfs who will die to save the rest of the ppl who were too busy judging others to do it themselves. Let’s be honest, most ppl who hate on Snape wouldn’t have half the balls to do what he did…

Snape was a voice. That’s why I think he’s popular. Some ppl don’t like the voices of victims…that’s why he’s so hated.

[seokwoosmole]

Oh Yukio they could never make me hate you.

Make me extremely angry and frustrated and fill me with the desire to reach my hands through the screen and knock some major sense into you? Maybe even occasionally feel dislike for you? Yes.

But not hate you😔

[is-this-even-relatable]

I’ve seen this a few times and I wanna address it. In the phandom, as a fan of Danny Phantom, you can be a fan however you want.

You’re not wrong for liking what you like. If you don’t care for AU’s and fanon and all the rewriting and fix-its and shipping… then good on you. If you watched the show as a kid and are a fan because you like canon and the show itself makes you happy, then good on you. If you discovered the show recently or as an adult and are diving into a new passion, then good. on. you.

We all love the show, or at least the concepts and vision behind it, that’s why we are fans. (especially the theme song, THAT I think we can all agree is a hecking banger.)

ASIDE 1: What this post is addressing is the concerns from some people who only like canon, or prefer majority of canon over fanon, about feeling left out of the phandom. I’ve also heard some people, who grew up with the show, who’ve said that Butch Hartman is their childhood hero, and feeling awkward and off to the side in the phandom, while people bash on him and the show.

While yes there are problems, and I truly recommend everyone who reads this looking up “Why don’t people like Butch Hartman?” or “What did Butch Hartman do?” and doing a bit of research on your own, this doesn’t mean you can’t still have that childhood respect.

It’s a bittersweet sort of thing, where someone doesn’t turn out to be as great as you’d envisioned they were. Where you have respect for them from the past, and are learning that they’re not who you thought they’d be, and you feel betrayed because maybe your trust was misplaced. But that’s not on you, and you shouldn’t be shamed for wanting to preserve that memory and keep the innocence of your childhood heroes alive.

I myself, have had a huge part of my childhood and formulaic memories, had to be reevaluated once I got older and realized that hey… that was definitely problematic. I was a kid, and didn’t know any better, but the organizers definitely did. I’m glad to have done it because those experiences really mattered to me, but I feel guilty for thinking that because I also now have the knowledge that it wasn’t right. Cultural appropriation is a huge disrespect to the things I thought I was respecting when I was young. So although I appreciate the memories and the time I spent and who it made me today, I can say for a fact I do not condone the ones who orchestrated it, because I have become an informed individual. Because I know better. So I will continue to love the ideals introduced to me, but I will go about it the correct way.

In that thread, I do think that it’s good for everyone to educate themselves on the media you consume, especially on subtle contexts and perhaps why some things get spread around like “butch hartman sucks” rather than just accepting or rejecting hearsay without confirming it for yourself. If you don’t know something, seek to understand it!

But, and I stand by this, any existing or future issues with the show’s aging or it’s creator does not give anyone the right to make any other person feel unwelcome. And if anyone, phandom or otherwise, yells and kicks and screams and or otherwise has a hissy fit at you for liking canon or anything like that… then fuck em.

Nobody can stop you from loving what you love! We are all on earth together, and you truly only live once. So don’t waste the amazing time you have doubting yourself. Don’t spend time reading and consuming content that you don’t want to. If you wanna read canon fics only, never reading crossovers, then you. go. damn. do it.

If you’ve never created anything in your life, never drawn a doodle or written a blurb, you are still a part of the phandom, and we are happy to have you. Leave comments, likes, and reblogs to show your presence and appreciation! Tell the content creators you like the most that you appreciate what they’ve done!

In the end, we are all just people, who one day found ourselves reading/watching/looking at a silly ghost boy who was just 14, and found that we couldn’t look away.

[vendettasfanfictioning]

I need more fics framing The Rupture as something necessary for destiel—it hurt like a fucking bitch, sure, and it was a low blow for Dean to hit Cas exactly where he knows Cas hurt most (in being the problem or a burden), but also. Looking at it from Dean's perspective, it really did feel like a move that old, early-seasons Cas would do; withheld information, acted on his own, took risks that could cost others.

And when it all piled up? From Jack's soulless behaviors directly killing Mary, to the deal with Belphegor in hell costing them Rowena. Again, hard agree that it was one of the most painful lines dropped in the show (especially so if you remember that this is post-Empty deal), but context guys, context.

Plus, I believe this separation wasn't only long-time coming but also a pretty important addition because what is destiel if not a pair of stubborn idiots who can't communicate. That's not to say an argument is necessary to talk (it can be, in certain situations, sure) but they've been on different pages since Cas came back in S13.

The center of their disagreement seemed to mostly lie in their belief in Jack. I can't remember a time they really sat down and smoothed things out so much as they avoided talking about what happened during the Widower arc altogether, and that's when the wound really began to fester. (It didn't help that they had to deal with so many problems all at once; the Brits, Asmodeus, Apocalypse World, Lucifer, then AU Michael...)

Here is what we know that Cas believed (from the canon narrative): Jack formed a bond with Cas, even before he was born he somehow showed Cas a possible future; paradise. It's the same power, perhaps a protection mechanism with nephilim seeing as God labeled them as Abominations, that turned Kelly as well. What we know Cas saw (from the deleted scene/script): Cas' paradise consisted of everyone he loved, his family, being safe. This included Sam, Kelly, and Dean on a beach, with more focus on Dean as he tells Cas, "thank you."

From what we could see that Cas did not, Dean had enough resentment against Jack that wasn't going to magically go away overnight. Jack hadn't formed the same bond with Dean that he did with Cas.

What happened before Jack was born: Heaven and Hell both sought out Jack for their respective goals, an innocent woman was going to die from the sheer magnitude of giving birth to a Nephilim, and Cas left by what Dean assumed was delusions and manipulations. What happened when Jack was born: Mary fell into a portal to a different universe—a rift that only opened due to the anomaly and power of Jack's existence—Kelly died, and Cas got stabbed right in front of him.

And this isn't to discredit Dean's love for Jack, when he did allow himself to love him or see him as family, but you can love someone and still resent them or feel bad about them. Moreso during extreme circumstances, however unfair or illogical it may be. Again, did they ever really talk? Maybe my memory is failing me but I'm pretty certain they didn't, or at least never in great detail, or came to an agreement about it.

Dean and Cas... just had so much dirty laundry and Rupture made sure they aired it all out. But I think we, as a society, would benefit greatly from not framing Dean as the big bad villain here or Cas as some poor innocent bean. Supernatural's theme was never about brotherhood or family, it's about how shit could have been so much easier if they just communicated.

[rattkween86]

Listen, I'm supposed to be doing school work, but I can't stop thinking about the absolute worst fucking bungle of the 21st century, and it bothers me to no end, so I am going to tell you all about it.

Turtlenecks.

They do not make turtlenecks like they used to, and I cannot understand why they've changed so much. I get that people like the new style of turtleneck, or mock neck, or cowl, or what have you, and I would never take that away from anyone. But why can't we also have the classic turtleneck in addition to all of these things???

Left: WRONG - Right: HELL YEAH

If I don't struggle to pull my head through the neckline of my turtleneck shirt like pushing a pie pumpkin through a pair of pantyhose, it's not doing it for me. I need to be at least a little bit fearful that I won't find the light at the end of the shirt tunnel while donning this accursed wonder. I should have no choice but to metamorphose into an uncircumcised dong for just a moment in order to pull my head out of my neckline and roll it down to an appropriate height.

It's as much about the conquest as it is looking like I have casually strolled out of a 1980s winter wear catalogue.

It should be thick. It should be warm. I should be able to fully turtle if I so choose.

That's all.

[worldisahouseonfire]

I think something has happened to me, from a lifetime of trying to communicate with people who seemed committed to misunderstand me. I say one thing, and the way they respond, it's like they were listening to another audio track, or radio frequency. I think something happens when nothing a person says gets understood, believed, acknowledged, for years on end.

It becomes impossible for me to understand what even the point is of language. The more I try to correct, the less I make sense, even to myself anymore. And I worry that all the reasons people gave for not understanding me only served to make me more anxious and difficult to understand, even for people who wanted to make an effort.

I read things that Mel Baggs and other disabled writers wrote, and they're things that make sense with what I'm going through now. On the one hand it's validating to know I'm not the only one experiencing these things. On the other hand, many of those disabled writers are now dead, and the people who should be reading their words never have and possibly never will. If I send posts to people and they refuse to read them, and refuse to listen to me and what I can now quote from memory, then what would be the point of me writing or speaking at all?

I think a lot of people lose their voices and words this way.

I think a lot of people die this way.

Not because they're not articulate, not because they lack insight into what's happening around them, but because the people crammed in thickly around them are determined to misunderstand them, until the frustration boils over, meltdowns and 'behaviors' are had, and this is used as justification for chemical restraint, institutionalization, coercive control, and brilliant minds are vanished to silence their voices.

I don't want this to happen to me.

I think this is something that's been happening throughout the history of language and oppression to a lot of people, and it's a dangerous razor's edge to walk sometimes. Every word. Every facial expression. Every tone. Every movement. Every variation in volume. Where it's not merely about the perception of people in the immediate vicinity, but what they can write into charts and notes. What they can report to doctors, paramedics, agencies, therapists, and the sort of kangaroo courts that preside over involuntary commitment, guardianship, conservatorship.

Where anything you do or say or write, and even how you do it, can and will be used against you in the court of public opinion, so easily manipulated by those who can benefit from shutting someone up and away.

No staff have to be smart to do this. All they have to do is be more credible than those in their care. And this credibility is a function of their position. It's built into disability support services and welfare agencies, places and systems where we wind up when there is nowhere else to turn.

I live in an adult residential facility. When I was placed here, it was supposed to be temporary, to get me out of a dangerous shelter, to keep me off the streets and out of some inpatient situation. Much was not disclosed to me until after I was shuffled in. I am still legally my own person, and I'm alone.

The facility is getting paid over $10k a month for my board and care.

This facility has the highest restriction possible for a facility of this type, in order to be able to charge the maximum legal amount.

I have been here over a year. In that time I have not been able to access actual medical care.

Even in this expensive area, that much money a month could have paid rent, paid for a car and a printer/scanner, and paid for a graduate student from a nearby prestigious university to come over for a couple of hours twice a week to help me unfuck my life and actually access care.

When a business provides care for profit, they keep whatever they don't spend on those in their care. They keep whatever they don't spend on the staff salaries or training. They can hire people who don't even speak English, can barely read or write, and staff will be motivated to do whatever they're told by those who sign their checks. They see just how easily they could wind up in much worse jobs, working for people who haven't been groomed into terrified passivity, under the watchful metal eyes of Ring cameras in almost every room, whose footage is only accessible to the people signing the checks.

It doesn't matter what I say, what I understand, what I write. It doesn't matter what I experience.

All that matters is I have disabilities and I am poor. That is what is heard, instead of me. Like a loud, insistent, ringing alarm that drowns out my attempts to communicate. Like something that, once you know it, you can't ever un-know it, that undermines any willingness to understand, to feel respect for what I'm going through. Pity feels degrading, demeaning to put up with. It places me beneath the person feeling it, expressing it, exuding it.

It doesn't matter that I feel like a veteran of some of the worst shit imaginable, like I was born into a war on my very self, and I have largely had to fight and survive it alone.

Mel Baggs wrote about something -- I think sie called it the 'rule of two.' Where when there is just one other person accompanying you into a situation with a care provider, a doctor, someone in a position of power, then we get listened to more, treated a little more fairly. And the person doing the accompaniment may be mystified, if the expected discrimination and interpersonal badness doesn't actually happen. They may think we were exaggerating for dramatic effect.

But people thought that about femmes' overwhelming experiences of sexual harassment and assault, and Black people's overwhelming experiences of cop violence and harassment violence. It's not an accident that it mostly only happens when someone with too much power is alone with someone who is not considered a credible reporter of their own reality.

As a trans human I experience this also. As I child I experienced this with my abusers. And many, many, many disabled and chronically ill people experience this with care providers and caregivers, compounded the more marginalized and disbelieved we are in other ways.

I think there's a strong, strong tendency to want to differentiate and distance from people sharing stories of interpersonal harm. I don't think it's necessarily conscious, which is part of what makes it so difficult to interrupt. I think there's an instinctive, socialized, acculturated response that happens, in the knee-jerk responses people have to being told that a human is hurting another human. Interrogating details, heaping pity and unsolicited advice, a listener trying to feel safe again in their own experiences, in their own skin, in their own humanity. Trying to find reasons the victim of misfortunate brought it on themself, choices and mistakes the listener will of course never make. Never to live like that, or lose their job, or wear that, at that time of night in that neighborhood, with a person who in hindsight is easily evaluated as dangerous and harmful.

I don't know what to do or say about this. I think the more we ignore the reality that people don't have to mean harm to do harm, the more harm can proliferate. Like ignoring that termites can eat wood will wind up ensuring the house gets chewed to pieces around you -- like ignoring that black mold can grow in damp poorly-cleaned places inevitably ensures an equally unhealthy home -- ignoring the ways we all fuck up and fail to course-correct ensures that it's going to keep going, and going to get a whole lot worse, and eventually it won't be people making choices you're careful not to make yourself.

Eventually we will all harm others, and be harmed by others.

Denial is something that goes around and comes around. It seems like a harmless habit at first. But eventually you wind up dependent on so much denial, and so many people cooperating in that denial, that when some really bad shit goes down, you're alone.

And you're stuck in a place you can't leave.

And there's nowhere else to go.

And things are happening that are so bad that they are unbelievable, because everyone seems so Nice™ and everything looks so Pleasant™ whenever anyone with any power is watching. And the people who are saying that this shit ain't kosher struggle to string words together in a way that makes sense, and seem constantly afraid that if they speak up, things will get worse for them.

They seem, on the surface, quite Mad and unreliable. Paranoid, even. In spite of the fact that there are literal cameras watching them, and people 24/7 monitoring them and writing little notes in files that are kept under lock and key, that the subjects themselves can't see and can't contribute to.

And one of those subjects is you.

And people who don't have to live like you do tell you to be patient. Day after day. Week after week. Month after month.

They ask, over and over, if anything bad has happened. But they don't seem to understand or even believe the things you do say, or if they do, then what they do about it makes things even worse for you.

If you're lucky -- very lucky -- you have held onto a laptop computer, and have managed to stay off the worst of the mind-scrambling drugs by staying quiet and keeping to a minimum interactions with the people in a position to panic and administer those drugs. If you're very lucky, you have a lifelong habit of responding to confusion and anxiety by reading and reaching out online to find other people writing about situations like yours.

Unfortunately a lot of the people in situations like yours are just as disbelieved and anxious and afraid and wound so tight you and they set each other off all the time. It will be like interacting with other burn victims while still trapped in the burning house. You will argue over whose burns are worse and how far away you have to stay from each other, and who should get priority for any ointments and bandages hurled in through the flames. (Metaphorically speaking.)

You will realize just how many of you there are. And you will find writing by people who are now just charred skeletons, who never made it out. You will wonder how many others didn't have the great good fortune to have words to put to paper, who died voiceless, stories untold.

You will try to help each other, but there will never be enough soothing or healing or supplies or support to go around. You will wind up hurting others. You may wind up feeling just as awful as the people who are calling platitudes on the outside, telling you to just be patient, asking who set the fire, and not believing you when you tell them that the arsonists, wearing flameproof suits, are still wandering through the house setting and feeding fires.

They will tell you that those people are firefighters.

The arsonists will tell you they are fighting fire with fire.

This will seem like absolute bullshit. No one who's not an arsonist is coming into the inferno anymore, so there's no one to tell except each other. But it feels horrible to keep harping on it, so doing almost anything else, anything distracting, is essential so as not to just lie down and feed your pain-wracked exhausted flesh to the flames.

You will get really, really pissed about the trollish people who ring the house and mock you and others like you for 'letting' this happen to you. You will yell back sometimes, and they will become absolutely unhinged and go round up their trollish friends to investigate your entire life and say horrible things about your personal private business, both to you and everyone in earshot.

You will, understandably, be feeling a bit misanthropic and apathetic.

You will probably hate people who tell you that the only fire is a bad attitude, and that if you wanted to get up and leave, you could.

You will probably hate people who think you need a therapist to fix your way of thinking about and responding to being in hell.

On the bright side, you will probably come around to appreciate the really dark humor of the people you're burning with. Laughs will be your only morphine, sometimes, and they may sound maniacal, because you all need them so bad.

You will probably wonder if this is actually what Madness is -- pain whose context is not understood and experienced by others.

And if you are lucky, and have the capacity for it, you may read and listen to things Mad people have written and said through history.

You might come to think that the real madness lies not in your perception of what's actually happening, but the yahoos outside calling syrupy-sweet reassurances and platitudes in to all of you, chasing the denial dragon like absolute fiends.

You may wonder if there was ever a time when your world was not a house on fire, or if it was just a dream you once had.

You might write. You might sing. You might cry. You might rock. You might roll. You might sleep. You might even come to enjoy your nightmares, because at least they go away when you wake up into the nightmare that never ends, and they're a change of fuckery.

You may develop more of a taste for swearing, especially really creative swears. They will be honest.

You may start writing and be unable to stop.

You may despair, knowing that no one has the patience and attention span and desire to read that much anymore. Especially if there aren't any cat pictures to go along with it.

You may post it anyway. And include a cat picture at the end as a reward or apology for anyone who read all the way through. Gods only know what someone who read all the way through this is going through (as long as they're not out trollin' & hatin').

And even though you don't know them, and may never compare burn scars with them, or trade cool rocks with them, you'll feel love for them, as I love you, right now. And you'll hope, as I do, that your love -- so painfully necessary to feel right now -- is received with understanding, and can be passed on, as it was to me, as I pass it on to you.

You matter. Your voice matters. Your words matter. What you have to communicate without words matters. It really fucking sucks that you're stuck where you are, wherever you are. I hope one day you get out, and laugh in the rain, and cry in the sun, and do all the things you love and want to do. You are human, and you matter.

Here it is, your moment of cat:

[mychlapci]

Do you have any thoughts on merformers? Horny or otherwise

hmmm i've seen some fanart and it was really cool. i've read some of the horny fanfics for merformers and enjoyed them (eggpreg my beloved). i dont really have any thoughts on it besides that. but, there have been many things within the transformers fanon that i found redundant or just. unimpressive by no fault of their own. and then they ended up growing on me when the right time came (for example, transformers with titties. didn't like em at first. weirded me out. now look at me.)

[riricitaa]

Just want to point out that I won't be answering nor discussing anything personal lives wise, especially here on tumblr, because:

1- it's not my business nor my life.

2- if the boys share some things so be it, if not, I owe them the respect to their privacy, I mean yes some things are obvious but still, they don't know me and I don't know them to the point where I'd have a say or discussion about their personal lives.

3- again, it's not my business.

So, I really wish Chris all the happiness in the world, God knows he deserves it. And I wish the same for Seb too and each person I love and admire.

And yes, this blog will remain the same (I'm trying my best to be more active as usual but sometimes life happens)

I love you all, and please respect my wishes, because I won't be answering the few anon asks I got from yesterday.

Take care of yourselves and if somehow you feel like this fandom isn't for you anymore? That's fine, take a step back, and hopefully everyone finds all the things they look for, and finds the love and happiness they deserve ❤️

Have a good day.

[meat-loving-meat]

@bluewingedcoyote it doesn’t have an anti-drug PSA, but it DOES have this detailed guide on how to have extremely consensual sex

[sora-no]

to be fair frankenstein was a monster himself for giving the creature life and then immediately running away like he didn't spend time to glue the corpses together. was bro too blind to see what he was making? lmao jokes on him

im not even the type of guy to go "actually it's frankenstein's MONSTER" because a painting by rembrandt or picasso or any other artist is often called "a rembrandt" or "a picasso" as shorthand. so in this respect frankenstein's monster can be considered "a frankenstein"

[jjscrybaby]

hiii :)

could you do a rafe x reader where the reader has a panic attack in front of sarah for the first and she knows to get the reader to rafe and he immediately calms her down?

rafe cameron x reader | hurt & comfort | (pogue!reader, mean girls, panic attack, crying, comforting!rafe, insecure!reader.)

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

No one figured Rafe Cameron would go for a Pogue. For all his life he’d been the number 1 Pogue hater, the biggest Kook defender, and overall just a pretentious asshole. That’s why it was the shock of the island when you showed up on his arm to Midsummer’s, wearing a dress that costed more than your rent with an anxious smile on your face.

Your boyfriend had promised to stick by your side for the entire night, and you were sure he meant it when he said it, but he hadn’t taken into account just how enthused the elders were going to be to see him. He wasn’t that teenage boy they knew anymore, instead a man living alone and dealing with his troubles; thanks to you.

It was halfway through the night when you went to the bathroom, the few glasses of champagne had your head feeling fuzzy and your bladder full. You locked yourself in the cubicle and started to do your business, before you heard voices from outside.

“It’s strange though, right?” The door closed behind the girls that had walked in, making you flinch as you stood to sort your dress out.

“Rafe with a Pogue. Yeah, definitely weird,” a squeaky voiced girl agreed with a laugh.

“It won’t last, trust me. He’s only with her for the image, it makes him look good to do charity for a girl like that. I’m pretty sure she’s a waitress at the club,” the other one responded.

“I’ll be sure to find him later and remind him of that.” The two of them giggled to themselves, gushing over how hot your boyfriend was for a couple more minutes before leaving. You didn’t step out of the cubicle until you were sure that you were alone, hot tears running down your cheeks.

Maybe it was the alcohol in your system, or maybe it was the fact those girls had said everything you’d been thinking for the last few months you’d been together, you weren’t sure, but something about their words had hurt your feelings; and had sent you into a spiral. You sat down on the plush purple chair, breaths coming out rapidly and shakily.

“Oh my god, what happened?” You hadn’t even heard the door open, but as you turned your head you found Sarah rushing at you. She knelt down next to you, holding your hands as you let out fearful whimpers. “Fuck. Okay, stay here, okay? Don’t move!” She ran back out and you stared at the door, holding your chest anxiously.

Only a minute later the door was swinging open and Rafe was storming in, striding over to you. “Hey, hey. Look at me,” he demanded, gentle but firmly as he cupped your cheeks in his hands. “Breathe for me, okay? Slow breaths, you got it.”

He’d seen you like this a few times, he’d learnt the best ways to get you to relax. He held your hand over his own chest, feeling his heartbeat underneath your palm. He gave you a reassuring smile as you copied his breathing, gripping onto his fingers.

“Good girl,” he drawled, pulling you from the chair into his lap where he sat on the floor. He stroked your hair, leaving gentle kisses over your cheek. “You want to tell me what happened?”

“It’s stupid,” you croaked out, still gripping onto his hand.

“No. It’s not. Tell me what happened, so I can sort it out and get the both of us out of the women’s bathroom,” he joked, making you giggle tearfully.

You gave him a wobbly smile. You didn’t have much of a choice now, it was time to admit to him the insecurities you’d had over the last few months; the ones that kept you up at night as he slept soundly beside you. “No one here thinks I’m good enough for you.”

“What?” His face scrunched up in confusion. “Baby, what’re you talking about?”

“I— I’m a Pogue,” you whispered, as if you were admitting a crime.

“I know that,” he shrugged. “I’m not that oblivious, sweetheart. Why does that matter? Why are you saying this now?”

“Because everyone thinks it Rafe! I’m sure you have before, I know I have! Everyone here thinks you’re an idiot for being with me, that you’ve lost your mind. Maybe they’re right,” you cried out.

His hands grabbed your face firmly, leaning his forehead against your’s as he held you in place. “You’re the love of my life.”

“What?” You murmured.

“You are the love of my life. I don’t give a fuck if you’re a Pogue, I don’t care that you eat pizza like you’ve not eaten in years, or that you swear like a pirate. You’re my girl, and I love you. I don’t care about other peoples opinions, because they’re irrelevant,” he explained slowly, caressing your cheek as he spoke. “Now, do you want to go home or do you want to get the biggest bottle of champagne and make fun of these losers?”

“The second one,” you whispered, staring at him like a lovesick puppy.

He smirked, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. “That’s my girl,” he mumbled, biting down on your bottom lip lightly to make you giggle. “Now, next time you get some dumb shit in your head you gonna tell me? Or do I have to spend all our loving conversations in the bathroom?”

You laughed, wiping your teary eyes as he helped you off his lap and back to your feet. He adjusted your flower crown with a cheesy grin, looking at you like you hung the moon and the stars. If you didn’t believe his words before, you definitely did now. “You don’t like the bathroom?”

“Well… it’s definitely nicer than the men’s, I’ll give you that.”