#tw mention of death threats

[yourlocalbadgerscales]

Isn’t it weird that I, who follows every Jegulus related tag there is and countless Jegulus obsessed people and their blogs, can’t seem to find the toxic side of the Jegulus shippers? Like, ANYWHERE? I haven’t seen a single toxic Jegulus shipper yet. I HAVE, however, seen TONS of Jily shippers being toxic and even going so far as telling Jegulus shippers to go die. And although I love Jily too, I don’t follow any Jily tag at all (at closer thought, maybe I should. Anyways-).

So tell me, Jegulus haters… if you hate it so much, why aren’t you blocking the tags and moving tf on? How come you find all the “toxic Jegulus shippers”, and I find NONE?

Not denying that there might be some tho, just saying it’s really ODD…

Edit: Anti-jegulus ppl do be finding more and better fanart, fics and headcannons than me… how the hell are you doing it?? Teach me your waysss

[eepysnoozer]

I took a mini hiatus from tumblr sorry !!!! I kept on getting d* ath th*eats in my inbox from being myself and how ugly my art was-

but I am back!!!! I’m turning anon off for now for my own safety <3

[that-cunning-witch]

im sorry people are being cunts to you on the taylor post, if it helps your response was very well said and youre right (and it made me follow you)

aw, thank you! <3

i'm not so much upset about people disagreeing with me so much as their default argument being "taylor should kill herself" or "you should kill yourself", instead of, y'know, actual criticism, or better yet just ignoring the artist and their music and moving on...?

anyways, thanks again! glad to know i'm not crazy for thinking it's stupid to base if someone's "actually gay" or not on their music taste :)

[outivv]

Hey guys!! Don’t use my request inbox to send death threats. That would be like super cool!! Thanks!!

[aromantic-waffles]

No cause this kid in my class wonders why I hate and feel uncomfortable around him when he:

1. calls me stupid on a daily basis

2. misgenders me

3. hates women/fem presenting peeps like myself (legit said he hated women and insults anyone who is fem presenting)

4. Posted explicit death threats on yt and bragged about it

[notverycolonthreeofyou]

Happy I hate fireworks day 🥳

[soljierpg]

Asking some of ggst faves for help

[proshipconfessions]

This has been said before, but I won’t be shy about saying it again. (Tw for mention of death threats and anti bullshit)

I’m getting kinda tired of proshippers repeatedly reposting screenshots of antis’ vicious and violent threats to us and making some shallow, matter-of-fact comebacks to them that the antis will never listen to anyways.

I don’t wanna be seeing constant reminders of how much antis hate me and want me dead or “converted” when I’m just trying to go through the proship tags. Especially not from OTHER PROSHIPPERS. We should have each other’s backs…

I even see people neglect to trigger tag these posts, or choose to tag them as “proship positivity” just because they slapped an affirmation below some anti’s Pinterest caption about victim blaming a minor for writing icky fanfiction.

I know it’s easy to do, and makes you feel affirmed, and fun in some way. But we need to be mindful when we do shit like this— and we need to take breaks from constantly engaging with Anti shit.

———

[draw-the-squad-like-this]

Draw your... characters...?

[waywardsunlight]

Dadrius Week- Day One- Puppet Special thanks to @badgirlcoven-official for helping with Belos's dialogue!! For @sergeantsporks's dadrius week!!

Bonus…

[yourlocalbadgerscales]

Fellow Jegulus shippers!

If you like Jegulus and you’re not in the mood to receive death threats for it, please block @jilyserrr immediately <333 Love you all! Stay safe 🫶

To prove that my accusations aren’t false:

‼️⚠️TW‼️: Death threats, cursewords.

Lemme know if I forgot anything, loves! 🫶

[furiousgoldfish]

I have an update about this situation, which if you didn't read it, was about me finding out that my parents are searching for me, going door to door and asking people on the street if they know me, even asking with my fake name. They found someone who did know me, and they chatted, and this person later called me and told me what had happened, to which I freaked out, asked them not to share any details about me, and explained that I had ran away due to violence and that I'm terrified of these people.

Now knowing that my parents are out there looking for me, I spent the next few weeks locked in, afraid to go out, only going to work and back, and sometimes disguised so I wouldn't be recognized. I didn't run into anyone on the street, nobody came to my door, I didn't get any other phone calls, so I eventually relaxed and decided that it was okay to be outside, even if they are looking, unless they find me directly where I live, I could easily escape on bike, and they wouldn't know where I went.

The other day I got the phone call from the person who talked to my parents, and they asked me to come over, to be gifted some extra clothing. I was scared, worried that it was a trap, that my parents somehow got this person to cooperate and to bring me to them, but I decided to be brave and go anyway, since the chance of this was very low, and on the phone they reassured me that I could forget that last situation. Still, when I got there I startedly looked around to see if anyone was in there, but it was all empty.

I got some extra details of what happened; it was my mother and a friend looking for me, my father was not present. This person admitted to actually knowing me, and where I live, so my parents know someone who is in contact with me right now. However the person didn't share my address with them, which is why I was still safe.

Then the person revealed they actually got a call from my mother later that day, and they had an argument over the phone. The person repeated what I had told them – that I ran because of violence, because I was forced to work to deserve to eat and sleep there, because of death threats, torture, neglect, and my mother responded angrily 'You don't know what kind of trouble they were causing me!'. Then my mother still tried to convince this person that she cares about me and is worried about me, but the person rebutted with 'you should have cared when they were younger', and when my mother wouldn't stop asking for information, the person said that if she calls again, the police will be called and hung up.

Now this was very interesting to me, firstly my mother getting a police threat upon trying to find me, that is extremely good, satisfying, reassuring, positive, made me so happy. I was in a good mood for the rest of the day just thinking about what kind of reality-check that must have been, to have other people threaten with police and stand in their way of getting to me. I feel it was the first time someone actively protected me and it feels like I've been waiting my whole life for that to happen, and I never thought it would.

Second thing is her 'you don't know what kind of trouble they were causing', because she wasn't even denying the accusations of violence and torture! She blatantly did admit that yes, I had to work to deserve to live as a child, I was beaten, neglected, I was threatened death, I was kept in sub-human conditions, but she just felt it was justified! Because I was 'causing trouble', which is a lie, I did everything she asked me when I was a kid. It's like she still thinks me standing up to her violent abusive husband was 'me causing trouble' excuse me why did you marry that thing, and then never stood up to it? I had more backbone as a child than she has as an adult and this was 'me causing trouble'. I stood up to him because it was the right thing to do, because he was attacking me and my siblings, what do you mean I was causing trouble defending rest of the family from violence and absorbing it so the rest of you wouldn't have to. Ungrateful lying coward.

And also her saying I was the awful troublemaker doesn't check out with the rest of her story; if I was such a menace why is she out there looking for me? Why is she not blessed that I am gone and she can finally enjoy your life? Would you actively seek out someone you have to control with death threats from how much trouble they're causing to you? The lie is falling apart.

This has me very calmed down and grateful that not all people are cowards and unwilling to stand up to abusers. I've never seen this before, in my experience, people were always ready to bow down to my parents and see me as an ungrateful horrid creature who needs to be put into their place. This person has known me enough to see that I'm honest, fair, hardworking, kind, accommodating, they even told me that they can see there's nothing twisted about me. They understood that my situation is one of a struggle and that I have to work hard to survive, and often expressed that I struggle too much compared to others. And this isn't someone I'm on constant contact with, we talk once a year. I was surprised they picked up on this much.

I'm feeling better about the situation now I understand I was defended, I'm not that afraid anymore. I did get upset that my mother is trying to convince people that I was just so bad I deserved all, but at least not everyone believes it. I mean, it's ridiculous for anyone to believe a child could possibly deserve this, but I know a lot of people who do believe that. I thought everyone would side with my parents forever. Feeling better knowing there's one person who sided with me, when it was crucial for my safety.

[a-sip-of-milo]

Ableist: You're not discriminated against! Stop trying to get sympathy

Also Ableist: *Sends death threats to cluster B's for the act of simply existing*

[feyres-divorce-lawyer]

“we’re the PEACEFUL AND RESPECTFUL ppl who actually love elain and would never ship HER with an abuser, wishing abuse on elain is DISGUSTING and so are you if you ship her with AN ABUSER”

oh that’s not…

[xitsensunmoon]

I've been thinking about sharing this here for a very long time and now it reached a point when I'm so upset I just can't be silent anymore.

Almost immediately after creating this account, the first thing I did was to put "Ukrainian artist" in my bio.

Shortly after that, I got a few asks with death threats, disturbing and just horrible words about my nation and culture. I was called a nazi, a fascist, and just a pig. Hating me just for being a Ukrainian, just for my existence. Not just on Tumblr, but on other social platforms too. If I were to guess, those were sent by russians or people who support the war.

Dca community made me feel the safest I've ever felt in any other community, up until that point.

After that, I put "russians DNI" in my bio and closed anons. Whoever was sending hate was not brave enough to say the same terrible things to me on their main pages. It felt a little bit safer that way, even if some of you will say it's not the right thing to do. Honestly, at that point, I was really ready to just leave Tumblr for good.

I can't stop people who are making me uncomfortable and making me feel unsafe from coming to my page and ignoring my very clear boundary of just not interacting with me.

It's my page. It's my art. It's my home. I have the right to decide who I want to have here, who I want to interact with me and my art, my hours of work. If you're taking away that right from me, do you really think you're a good person and my boundary doesn't apply to you?

I do not attack russians. I do not spread hate and toxicity, even though I have a right to be as angry as I can. I do not mass report their accounts and don't send death threat asks. I just ask to be left alone.

My question is, if a person, a russian, sees my bio that asks to not interact with me, but decides against it, ignoring my boundaries gets banned for it. Am I really in the wrong?

The point of this - if you don't agree with my actions please leave. Don't start a fight, just please leave. Because I will continue to block every russian who I encounter on my page. I really, really don't want people who just don't even want and try to understand the situation and just completely ignore how fucking terrible this is even WITHOUT me starting on the war context.

[heyheydidjaknow]

I haven’t played this stupid game in 6 months. This is a sequel to Prospects, this time featuring Bailey.

Agreement

The envelope shook in your hand. “This should suffice.”

Bailey took it from you, not bothering to meet your eyes as she slit the top and took the slip inside. Whitney, dressed for the ride ahead— or fight; whatever came first— in his sweats and t-shirt, stood with his back to the door. Despite your assurance, he had insisted on sitting in on this final transaction as if the mountain of cash you had worked yourself ragged to obtain would not be enough to settle the score, as if your being there were not dependent solely on your value as a worker, as if Bailey— who now looked up at you over the check between her fingers and her half-rimmed glasses— would care beyond that if you were gone.

The ground swayed beneath your feet.

Bailey leaned back in her chair, gesturing to Whitney with the check. “This was your idea?”

You could not bring yourself to look back at him, but you could imagine his expression. It was the same as when you had when you had met Briar and Avery a few days before; cool, unflinching, as though you were an item at a pawn shop he was trying to get a good price on. You supposed you were, in a sense. “Yes.”

Bailey nodded slowly, taking in your figure, your stance. You squirmed under her gaze. “And the child’s yours, I take it?”

“Yes.”

She considered as much. “You know,” she mused, “your… what would the word be? Fucktoy?”

He scoffed. “For our purposes, property.”

“Oh, hardly.” She leaned her elbows on the desk, fingers lacing together under her chin. “Not officially at least, not until our terms are settled.”

“What terms are there to settle?” You picked at your cuticles, heart pounding in your throat. “Is that not how much—“

“That’s how much my best earner was worth before.” Her smile was sweet like cough syrup, sharp like whiskey. “I’m a businesswoman you understand; it would hardly make much sense for me to part with my greatest revenue stream for its raw material costs.”

You looked back at Whitney. He kept his eyes trained on the woman in front of you. “And how much would it take for you to part ways with your charge?”

She sighed in mock contemplation. “Oh, I don’t know.” She sucked her teeth. “Another fifty percent ought to do it.”

The words echoed in your ears. You swallowed back panic as you went back to staring at the floor.

“Fifty?” His sneer was audible. “The fuck you take me for?”

“Someone desperate.” She gestured to you. “Someone willing to take when they can get and leave.”

“A bitch, you mean.”

“So long as we’re being frank.”

“You—“

“Do you know how much that child is worth?” You shut your eyes as you felt her own take you in. “Do you know what sort of market you could appeal to with a matching set?”

You heard a rustling of cloth behind you. Whitney’s voice was as cheerful and bright as you had ever heard it. “So long as we’re considering the lives of people that matter,” he smiled, “I’m curious; how much is your life worth?”

There was a pause, a laugh from Bailey. “That bitch,” she sighed. “First that file—“

“This actually isn’t Laundry’s, surprisingly enough.” You heard the clinking of metal parts as he gestured to you. “Friend of a friend who lives in the country; I promised him the deed to this shithole if your position found itself empty.”

Despite yourself, you turned to face him. He held the pistol in his hand with the confidence of a man unfazed by its weight. In the back of your mind, you wondered if he would be tried if he went through with it, whether the cops would come or care or whether they would write it off as the result of one of Bailey’s “ungrateful brats”. You could not for the life of you decide which would be preferable.

“So,” he continued, finger twitching, eyes shining, “I think it best if we tried renegotiating terms.” He gestured to you. “Either you take the money and I take your cash cow off your hands—“ He steadied his aim, “— or I redecorate your office with your insides and you get to find out whether the contents of that envelope are worth shit in hell.”

You cast your gaze back towards her. Bailey looked between the two of you, lips pursed. “You’re more desperate than I thought.” She pushed her glasses up her nose and reached into her shirt pocket. “Let me give you some advice, kid.”

You shut your eyes again at the click of the safety. “Hands where I can see ‘em.”

She pulled out a carton of cigarettes, tapping one out and sticking it between her lips. “He isn’t a better person than I am, you know.” She took a lighter off her desk. “He’s not going to take better care of you than I am, isn’t going to wish you off to some fairy tale land where you’ll never know hardship; if anything, he’s going to fuck you over harder than I do.” She lit it, took a drag, smiled, exhaled.

“You fucking—“

“And you.” She pointed the cigarette at him. “Whitney, yeah? You think your life’s going to get better by being a father?” She leaned her head on her free hand. “I’ve been stuck with this job for thirty years now; the only thing that thing—“ she waved the cigarette in your belly’s general direction, “— is good for is an accessory to the walking ATM it’s stuck in.”

You could hear his voice shake; with what, you could not tell. “So help me God if you say one more thing about my fucking kid—“

“Let me say my piece.” She stood up, taking another drag and blowing it in your face. “If I were you,” she sighed, “I’d see if Harper couldn’t make an exception to get that thing out of you while it’s not breathing. Short of that, I’d ship it here.” She leaned forward, resting her hand on the surface of her desk. “But if I ever find your brat at my doorstep,” she promised, voice lowering, “if I ever see you or that thing here again, I’ll make your time here look like a stay at the Ritz-fucking-Carlton.” She stuck the cigarette back between her teeth, tilting your head up to look her in the eye. The resemblance between her and Whitney was apparent; you wondered if that was just what the eyes of monsters looked like. “I will make your child pay for however much you would have made me twofold, and I will sell their body— whole or piecemeal— to any dumb fuck who asks for what I’m sure will be a pretty young thing like them. Do you understand me?”

You could not breathe.

Her grip on your jaw tightened. “Are you deaf?” She brought you closer, and you whimpered at the sensation. “I asked you a question. Do you understand me or don’t you?”

You shut your eyes as her nails dug into your skin. You dug your own into your palm as you forced yourself to nod.

She kept you there a moment— for what, you did not know— before pressing a kiss to your forehead. Your eyes shot open, and you swallowed back tears— of relief, of sadness, of panic— as she released you, collapsing to your knees and gasping for air. “Good.” She took the check, slipping it into her pocket before sitting back down. “Leave before I change my mind.”

You pulled yourself to your feet, practically tripping over yourself to cling to Whitney. He glanced down at you, letting you bury your face into his shoulder as he took one last look at your former guardian. Wordlessly, he pulled the two of you out into the hallway, past the children gathered by the door, past the garden and Robin and the stairs and the threshold and finally, with a smile of untempered relief and satisfaction, across the street, into the truck parked there, and away from that miserable town, and as you watched the buildings you had come to know as parts of your home flew past, as you watched people you recognized from school rush into the forest and students— like you, you registered vaguely, desperate for money, for purpose, for anything— lean against street corners, you wondered if this would be any better, if this was more desirable, if this was emancipation or a different, crueler kind of ownership.

You mumbled a goodbye to the bus stop as it passed. Only then did the tears really start.