#tw; cornering

[shiroi---kumo]

tw; medical / generally uncomfortable situations / mental illness / work stuff under cut

Hi fam. We need to talk and my brain is labeling it as 'coming clean.'

So let's start with for those of you who do not know - I am clinically diagnosed with Bipolar 2 with Rapid Cycling - meaning I flip from depression to mania /hypomania at least once a month, sometimes more. Shit sucks.

So here's the dealio. Here's the newspaper update, shit ain't good right now. So before I get into this let me make one thing perfectly clear.

I'm not posting this to cry for help. I don't need people to fix my shit. I fix my shit. I'm giving you this so you have an update and an understanding of what is going on on the other side of the screen. This is a newspaper update. This is a "hey this is what is going on in my brain" update. I am not asking you to fix my problems NOR DO I WANT YOU TO.

Cool. We understand each other? Good.

Posting this kind of shit is hard for me so just - bear with me. I've been real quiet lately and not really online. I've put everything in the queue because then the blog stays rolling while I'm not here. I do like a massive update one day drop it all in the queue and then disappear again for days at a time.

Shit ain't good but it all came to a head yesterday at work.

I got unexpectedly drug into the HR office because my "hygiene was concerning". Guys, I'm a fucking custodian at a bar. Do you think I get dirty in a day? Oh I do. Apparently they don't understand the concept of a "dirty job". Anyway. I got cornered by HR and the head of facilities and told this was "coming from a place of love and concern for me" and being the info dumper triggered by trauma I am - I just started dropping shit on them and yelling.

I told them outright I've been struggling with suicidal ideation for the last week (longer but they didn't need to know that and it comes and goes. it's been super bad this last week.) But I just dropped that on work with no warning and my depression and a reminder that I am bipolar and they told me "you know you can come talk to us at any time." (HR and my Big Boss)

and It just triggered something in my brain and I snapped.

because my lead worker is not someone I can go to and has been bullying and threatening me for the last three years. So I went off about everything. How he told me I'm not allowed to talk to HR. How he won't stop ranting about how much he hates entertainment (department), how he used retaliation to punish me when I call in or do shit he doesn't like (like talk to HR). How I am literally too scared to apply for FMLA because I am scared of this man's repercussions.

I went the fuck OFF. I was cussing every other word. I held nothing back and even laughed in HR's face when she asked me if "I felt like I could be my true authentic self at work" to which she got me laughing obnoxiously and "FUCK NO."

And now they are all acting real squirrelly at work since I dropped the big bad S-word yesterday and they're watching me to make sure I'm okay and good and I told them I just lie to people and tell them I'm fine because my leader worker demands "positive attitudes at all times." to which I reminded them as someone who is bipolar asking this of me is literally impossible.

I explained I just want the ability to actually say at work 'it's no one's fault. My brain is just crashing so I'm gunna be quiet.' Because I am sick and fucking tired of getting told (by my lead worker) that "everyone says we're all grumpy" (as in all of housekeeping not just him)

I am sick to fucking death of it. So I went the fuck off and HR promised me there would be no backlash to this after they talk to him and I once again laughed in her fucking face.

"I know you don't believe me right now." "imma stop you right fuckin' there. No offense, but I'm scraping the bottom of the fuckin' barrel with my depression right now, so no I don't believe you and I don't believe fuckin' shit right now to be completely fucking honest."

So there's that.

My brain has been really upset about literally everything lately. I've felt on this weird island by myself and struggling with a lot of personal shit, but it's mine to fix. It's mine to set with. I just need a little time to sort my shit out.

The depression is bad. I'm here so much because I'm trauma blocking a lot of shit. Productive doesn't equal wellness. It equals me trying to cope in a way that makes it so I don't have to think about anything else. The "too busy to think" phenomenon. So yes my mind has gone suicidal in recent days. I won't lie to you but after getting fucking cornered at work about it, my brain is doing the "alright enough of that. Put the fucking mask back on and hide your shit better" game.

Guys I'm sick of hiding.

I write to cope. It's how I process. Art is my soul and it's how I function. I just want you to understand why you see so much shit coming out of me. It's not magic. It's overwork. I don't do anything else. Work just shoved me off a cliff yesterday and I got fed the "this is a safe space" line like six times and "we're doing this because we love you and care about you" and I realized my brain only translating it as anger wasn't where my emotions SHOULD be.

My crayons fell out of the box and the colors are all out of order. So if shit is slow I'm not ignoring you or it might be in the queue. If shit is lightning fast, well I'm probably coping with something.

Just - that's where I'm at right now.

[charlie-artlie]

I think the death weirdos should hang out

[januscorner]

It’s so weird when people act like cishet people know about queer discourse, I don’t think that frat bro hit on you cus of bi lesbians he hit on you cus he’s a dick

[reasonsforhope]

"For the first time in decades, public health data shows a sudden and hopeful drop in drug overdose deaths across the U.S.

"This is exciting," said Dr. Nora Volkow, head of the National Institute On Drug Abuse [NIDA], the federal laboratory charged with studying addiction. "This looks real. This looks very, very real."

National surveys compiled by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention already show an unprecedented decline in drug deaths of roughly 10.6 percent. That's a huge reversal from recent years when fatal overdoses regularly increased by double-digit percentages.

Some researchers believe the data will show an even larger decline in drug deaths when federal surveys are updated to reflect improvements being seen at the state level, especially in the eastern U.S.

"In the states that have the most rapid data collection systems, we’re seeing declines of twenty percent, thirty percent," said Dr. Nabarun Dasgupta, an expert on street drugs at the University of North Carolina.

According to Dasgupta's analysis, which has sparked discussion among addiction and drug policy experts, the drop in state-level mortality numbers corresponds with similar steep declines in emergency room visits linked to overdoses.

Dasgupta was one of the first researchers to detect the trend. He believes the national decline in street drug deaths is now at least 15 percent and could mean as many as 20,000 fewer fatalities per year.

"Today, I have so much hope"

After years of wrenching drug deaths that seemed all but unstoppable, some researchers, front-line addiction workers, members of law enforcement, and people using street drugs voiced caution about the apparent trend.

Roughly 100,000 deaths are still occurring per year. Street drug cocktails including fentanyl, methamphetamines, xylazine and other synthetic chemicals are more poisonous than ever.

"I think we have to be careful when we get optimistic and see a slight drop in overdose deaths," said Dan Salter, who heads a federal drug interdiction program in the Atlanta-Carolinas region. "The last thing we want to do is spike the ball."

But most public health experts and some people living with addiction told NPR they believe catastrophic increases in drug deaths, which began in 2019, have ended, at least for now. Many said a widespread, meaningful shift appears underway.

"Some of us have learned to deal with the overdoses a lot better," said Kevin Donaldson, who uses fentanyl and xylazine on the street in Burlington, Vermont.

According to Donaldson, many people using fentanyl now carry naloxone, a medication that reverses most opioid overdoses. He said his friends also use street drugs with others nearby, ready to offer aid and support when overdoses occur.

He believes these changes - a response to the increasingly toxic street drug supply - mean more people like himself are surviving.

"For a while we were hearing about [drug deaths] every other day. When was the last one we heard about? Maybe two weeks ago? That's pretty few and far between," he said.

His experience is reflected in data from the Vermont Department of Health, which shows a 22 percent decline in drug deaths in 2024.

"The trends are definitely positive," said Dr. Keith Humphreys, a nationally respected drug policy researcher at Stanford University. "This is going to be the best year we've had since all of this started."

"A year ago when overdose deaths continued to rise, I was really struggling with hope," said Brad Finegood, who directs the overdose crisis response in Seattle.

Deaths in King County, Washington, linked to all drugs have dropped by 15 percent in the first half of 2024. Fatal overdoses caused by street fentanyl have dropped by 20 percent.

"Today, I have so much hope," Finegood said.

-via NPR, September 18, 2024. Article continues below with an exploration of the whys (mostly unknown) and some absolutely fucking incredible statistics.

Why the sudden and hopeful shift? Most experts say it's a mystery

While many people offered theories about why the drop in deaths is happening at unprecedented speed, most experts agreed that the data doesn't yet provide clear answers.

Some pointed to rapid improvements in the availability and affordability of medical treatments for fentanyl addiction. "Expansion of naloxone and medications for opioid use disorder — these strategies worked," said Dr. Volkow at NIDA.

"We've almost tripled the amount of naloxone out in the community," said Finegood. He noted that one survey in the Seattle area found 85 percent of high-risk drug users now carry the overdose-reversal medication.

Dr. Rahul Gupta, the White House drug czar, said the drop in drug deaths shows a path forward.

"This is the largest decrease on record and the fifth consecutive month of recorded decreases," he said.

Gupta called for more funding for addiction treatment and healthcare services, especially in Black and Native American communities where overdose deaths remain catastrophically high.

"There is no way we're going to beat this epidemic by not focusing on communities that are often marginalized, underserved and communities of color," Gupta said.

"Overdose deaths in Ohio are down 31 percent"

Indeed, in many states in the eastern and central U.S. where improvements are largest, the sudden drop in drug deaths stunned some observers who lived through the darkest days of the fentanyl overdose crisis.

"This year overdose deaths [in Ohio] are down 31 percent," said Dennis Couchon, a harm reduction activist. "The deaths were just plummeting. The data has never moved like this."

"While the mortality data for 2024 is incomplete and subject to change, Ohio is now in the ninth consecutive month of a historic and unexpected drop in overdose deaths," said the organization Harm Reduction Ohio in a statement.

Missouri is seeing a similar trend that appears to be accelerating. After dropping by 10 percent last year, preliminary data shows drug deaths in the state have now fallen roughly 34 percent in the second quarter of 2024.

"It absolutely seems things are going in the right direction, and it's something we should feel pleased about," said Dr. Rachel Winograd, director of addiction science at the University of Missouri St. Louis, who also noted that drug deaths remain too high.

"It feels wonderful and great," said Dr. Mark Levine, head of the Vermont Health Department. "We need encouraging data like this and it will help sustain all of us who are actively involved in trying to have an impact here."

Levine, too, said there's still "plenty of work left to do."" ...

Dasgupta, the researcher at the University of North Carolina, agreed more needs to be done to help people in addiction recover when they're ready.

But he said keeping more people alive is a crucial first step that seemed impossible only a year ago.

"A fifteen or twenty percent [drop in deaths] is a really big number, an enormous impact," he said, calling for more research to determine how to keep the trend going.

"If interventions are what's driving this decline, then let's double down on those interventions."

-article via NPR, September 18, 2024

[meltedmush]

Will Binghorse ever get to gallop freely through the fields with Horse Qingqiu? I must know...

OFC HE WILL 😭😭😭

[sillyfairygarden]

a tale of two hearts

[hellenhighwater]

May I ask you a potentially sensitive question (and please feel free not to answer if you'd rather not) but how did you come around to adopting Malice and Vice after your cat before them passed away. I lost my own cat, my baby boy, two years ago, and it seems an opportunity to have a new cat in my life has come up, and while I would love a new fluff in my life, I still have these feelings of ... wrongness? of sadness at the idea at the same time. I guess I'm asking, when you got your kittens, did you feel something like that? Is it something you wait to go away before welcoming a new pet into your life, or does it ever go away?

That's a really good, really hard question. I don't know that I can say anything objective about it. I can only tell you what it was like for me personally.

I love cats. I will probably have cats for the rest of my life, and I will adore each and every one, but none of them are ever going to be able to hold a candle to the Terror. She was just the best cat, and losing her was devastating. She was old, though, and I knew it was coming a while before it happened, so I had some time to start making peace before Nimitz actually passed.

There is nothing anyone could do or say that would have made that easier, and no new cat would have ever been able to replace her. I didn't want them to. I knew that losing Nim would gut me, and I decided that I would rather put that grief to work by taking in and caring for a cat that needed it. I had planned, actually, on an adult cat; Mal and Vice as kittens sort of fell into place accidentally. I didn't expect to feel less grief by having a new cat; I just wanted something to do with that feeling. I often find that I can't work through that kind of feeling until I've made something of it; I knew I wanted to make a home for another cat.

I still miss her. I think I will never not miss her; she was a phenomenal cat. I'm tearing up now, like I do every time I think about her for more than a few minutes. Taking in the kittens was almost...a tribute to her memory, I guess? The Terror was left on the street before she decided she lived with us; I think she would maybe appreciate the same being offered to other cats, now that she no longer has need of my home.

Malice is really nothing like Nimitz--there is a reason I mostly call her Meatball, but I think that for the rest of my life I will always have a black longhair, to keep just a shadow of the Terror of the Underbrush near.

[keikoyume]

The Boiled Buddy!!!

I’m slowly getting used to look at its pics without flinching, I’m getting stronger! (Having its plushy helps //uwu)

[deliciouskeys]

I threatened to write something for Butchlander week and well... I have written, uh, something. *skulks back into the abyss*

Written to accompany this wonderful art I commissioned from @semains whom I love dearly-- thank you for indulging my requests for setting and exact pose as well! Commission them!

Butchlander Week NSFW Saturday prompt: Roleplay/Roles. Because it might be the role of a lifetime for Butcher, but you know Homelander is having the time of his life pretending he can't escape / pretending it hurts sooo much.

(yeah, double dipping) Cozy Corner Kinktober prompt #5 Buttplug (sort of. I can't explain myself. I have no excuses. It might be disturbing, so apologies in advance. Pure Id, aka wtf).

My header is getting longer than the ficlet, gdi

"Harder." Homelander's tone is haughty and whiny all at once–  so grating that Butcher wishes he could deliver on the request. Who'd have thought that this grandiose straightedge little cunt would get so hard having a stranger smack him over and over? Who'd ever guess that this supe celebrity– maybe the world's most famous person, and definitely the darling of the American public– would be into this kind of shit behind closed doors? That he wouldn't be bloody ashamed of himself whisking Butcher off to his bizarrely decorated apartment every single night.  Bypassing all of Vought security, so that Vought's public enemy number… if not #1 then at least top 10… could make himself comfortable sitting on his bed. Not all that comfortable, since the bed is a strange upholstered leather number and stiff as hell, but Butcher supposes a supe might not feel the difference between this and a Tempur-Pedic.

He brings him here every night, and every night the script stays largely the same. Homelander plies him with some alcohol, sometimes a glass of whiskey, but more often just a bottle of Heineken. Butcher sits down, Homelander eagerly drapes himself over his lap, pulls and folds his cape underneath him, as if he doesn't trust Butcher enough to spread it out next to him. wiggling his hips, insisting Butcher pull down his pants and spank him. And Butcher obliges every time, even though it's clearly hurting his hands much more than it hurts Homelander– they alternate sides every night but Butcher suspects he already has stress fractures that don't heal because his hands ache all the time and never quite recover between sessions. But despite the pain, and despite the very little to no pain he's actually inflicting on the spoiled brat who always asks to be hit harder, there's just something irresistible about it. About finally being allowed to take out his aggression on the man he hates most in the world. The man he hates most in the world, who also happens to have a surprisingly perky ass that jiggles hypnotically if you hit it hard enough and just right, so Butcher hits him with his full strength not because of the cunt's whiny demands, but because he just wants to see the flesh wobble.

"I said harder!" Homelander's voice cuts through Butcher's thoughts, and Butcher can't help it any longer.

"You want me to hit you harder, you're gonna have to find a paddle."

Homelander's breath hitches and he says nothing in reply. No, this sick cunt clearly craves skin on skin contact to get off, Butcher already knows this, which is why he knew what to threaten him with to get him to shut up.

But he does wish he could hurt him. The achy joints of his hand plead he stop. Butcher stares down at the well defined muscular globes, skin turned a nice blush color where he's been hit but Butcher wishes he could turn it black and blue. Purple and green. He wants the cunt to really feel the intensity he's supposedly asking for, just to prove how wrong he is.

"I'm waiting," Homelander reminds him.

"Just taking a breather, alright? Enjoying the view." Butcher tries to squeeze a handful of flesh, but it's never as soft as it looks. "Look like one of 'em marble statues you got out in your lounge area."

Butcher hears Homelander's breath hitch and sees him take a peek at the mirror above, clearly checking himself out. This is all a game to him. It flatters his vanity that Butcher does this for him. Butcher would like nothing more than to turn this around on him, make it less of a game and more of an actual punishment.

A strange idea creeps in. Butcher leans back to reach for the Heineken bottle he emptied earlier and put on the nightstand, always on a coaster Homelander insists he use. God forbid he get a water ring on the antique looking furniture, with the creepy little cameo portraits of people who died last century. The beer is mostly just to take the edge off before Homelander lies down over his legs– he and Homelander mutually figured out the session goes better if he's slightly buzzed and maybe just a little numb to the pain in his hand. And they figured this out because Homelander happened to whisk him away right after he stumbled out of a bar on a late Saturday night, after which point Butcher understood that Homelander would come and find him wherever he was– even if he wasn't at home past midnight. It's sexual slavery, is what it is. Butcher would resent it more if he didn't somewhat enjoy getting to beat this cunt on a nightly basis before being dropped off at home.

Homelander shifts, growing impatient while waiting for another round of spanking to start after the breather. "Come on!" he says through gritted teeth, and he sounds angry, and fucking self-righteous, as if he's complaining about customer service he's paid for. It's not Butcher's fault that the cunt only seems to come after he's gotten spanked for minutes straight, at some point his body finally deciding that this is such an enjoyable moment that his hips start grinding forward into Butcher's leg and he comes, the same pathetic little hitched moan escaping his lips every time, the same toe-curling Butcher can see because the cunt does take off his boots to lie on the bed. Thank god he never pulls his pants far down enough, because he never gets any jizz on Butcher's jeans. Homelander seems to think Butcher doesn't notice, or at least they both pretend they haven't. As if Butcher can avoid noticing his leg being humped violently, wondering if this is the night the cunt breaks one of his limbs out of pure excitement. As if it's not clear what just happened from the flushed face and glazed over eyes the supe has when he rises off the bed, finally satisfied. But if no one tells and no one asks, it didn't necessarily happen, and both seem content to keep it at that. Homelander takes a quick shower and suit change before dropping Butcher off at his apartment, without any further ceremony or pleasantries, and by morning Butcher is half in denial about any of it even happening.

"Are you fucking deaf? Why did you stop?" Homelander says and starts to turn his head to look back at him, but Butcher shoves his face back to face forward. 

They have an unspoken agreement not to look each other in the eye when they're doing this, ever. Homelander almost broke the agreement, but obediently looks away again after the lightest push.

"Shut your fucking trap already. I heard you the first ten times just fine," Butcher growls under his breath, and his mind is made up about what he was hesitating to do. He forces the neck of the empty bottle into the cunt's tight crack, moving it around, looking for give.

Homelander's back arches, clearly not expecting the sensation. "The fuck are you doing?"

"GIving you something harder, like you were whining for, you spoiled brat." Butcher gives up doing it blindly and pulls one of the cheeks towards him. "Now where's your fucking chocolate starfish? You even have one?" And as if to punctuate that last word, Butcher finds the place and  breaks the initial resistance resistance, the bottle neck beginning a slow slide in.

Homelander breathes harder. "I don't like it," he mutters, and his ass flexes in protest.

"You better like it and accept it, or else you're going to end up with a pile of glass shards inside you."

Butcher is skeptical that glass could really do anything to this supe's internal organs, but it seems Homelander wants to avoid the mess anyway, and his muscles relax.

"That's right. Now stop whining and take your punishment."

He tries to push the bottle in even further, feeling more and more protest.

"I don't like it," Homelander repeats, sharply this time, as if it means something.

"You ain't supposed to like it," Butcher says and decides to finally smack him on the ass with his other hand after keeping him waiting. Butcher doesn't anticipate that Homelander's body will convulse, shatter the bottle, grind into him, and come all at once.

"The hell was that?" Butcher asks, pulling back the jagged bottle's bottom half that survived. Homelander's body is still twitching underneath him and he's panting. Maybe this was going to be it. Butcher overstepped the line. Homelander was probably immersed in some unresolved childhood trauma or fantasy or whatever the fuck about having a father figure who would discipline him with a firm but loving hand. This must have ended the illusion for him. Maybe enough that Butcher is about to meet his end– sometimes it's hard to remember that the whimpering quivering pathetic mess draped over his knees is the selfsame terrifying force of nature that can take out an entire army if he ever just chose to do so.

But the cunt won't even pick his head up. He's buried his face in the crook of his elbow. Is he fucking crying? Butcher wonders for a second if it's possible that he's actually fucking done it. Actually hurt him. Maybe a plug of C4 won't kill him but maybe it'll make him feel the hurt? A whole assortment of images races through Butcher's mind. He wants to try everything now. His crowbar, a bat studded with rusty nails, maybe the same bottle but a Molotov cocktail this time. Payback for thinking he can just force Butcher to indulge him, to make every night about getting him off. This opens up a whole new world of possibilities.

But Homelander stirs and starts to sit up, and Butcher winces and his teeth are set on edge when he can hear the crunching sound of glass grinding against glass, and tiny green shards start dropping out of him as Homelander tilts to sit back on his heels.

"That was— amazing…" Homelander whispers, breathless. His hands are folded demurely in his lap as if he didn't just orgasm to being diddled with a bottle of Heineken. "You want another beer?"

"No!" Butcher says, sounding more emphatic and more disturbed than he intendedto let on. "No, you sick fuck."

"Does your hand hurt?" Homelander asks, and it's without any impatience in his tone, maybe even a note of real sympathy, completely ignoring the insult just lobbed at him. Before Butcher knows what's happening, Homelander leans down and licks the hand that had just been spanking him. Butcher jerks it away defensively, but Homelander follows it licking it, laving each finger with his tongue before leaning into it with his brow ridge, then his nose, rubbing himself into it. It feels soothing and takes away some of the sore feeling, Butcher is loath to admit.

But he needs to regain what little control he has in this arrangement. "You want me to pet ya? Then lie back where you belong," he says. It's gratifying to see the supe cunt immediately obey him. He stretches himself back into his former position, and Butcher kneads the flesh of his ass.

"We can do the bottle again if your hands hurt," Homelander says, sighing contentedly and breaking the rule– looking back at Butcher with a look that is disturbingly similar to fondness.

"We can," Butcher agrees, trying to ignore the glass that's spilled out on the sheets and forget the crunching sound the bottle made when it snapped in half at the neck.

(AO3 link)

[cremedensada]

Yandere fem demon who has been trying to tempt you to sinning. Dragging you to shops and boutiques, highly amused when you insist everything she's been trying to get you in has been pretty revealing.

Yandere demon who uses her body to further tempt you. A flirty look here, a lingering touch there - she's pulled out all the stops.

But why weren't you at the very least tempted? Why? Whywhywhywhywhywhywhy.

Yandere demon who, while busying herself with seducing a different human, finds herself cornered. It's fine, she's a demon anyway, she'll let these stupid humans think she's fragile and shit.

But you arrive just before she slits their throats - courageously demanding they leave her alone. Brave despite the croak in your voice, and the shaking of your hands. You successfully drew the assailants' interests, abandoning her in favor of you.

In a sudden surge of unnamed emotion, she uses her powers to kill the assailants swiftly before any of them could touch you.

Yandere demon who, cradled in your embrace, figures this is the time to get you. In a way, it's a perfect set up, isn't it? A damsel in distress (not really) being saved by a hero. It's only fair she rewards you for your deeds, right? Surely you would never turn down her offer.

Yandere demon who, before she can voice out her thanks, finds the words disappearing at the tip of her tongue. Looking at your terrified expression, panicked and blubbering out words of concern and apologies.

What were you apologizing for? You didn't know something like this would happen. She's used to this.

Yandere demon who gets stunned as you shouted in frustration when she voiced out her thoughts with nonchalance. Staring at you in awe and surprise as you, frustratedly, insisted how it's exactly the reason why you're sorry.

Why?

You know she's got a reputation, she's beautiful - of course that'll get people's attention. And some people aren't so nice with trying to get her attention on them.

You don't know she's a demon, or that she's befriended you just so she can doom you to sinning. But she did befriend you.

"I care about you. Do I need any more reasons to make sure you don't get hurt?"

A sudden spike in her heartbeat, a flush of her cheeks (demons are actually capable of blushing? Who knew - certainly not her). Touched by your declaration.

You have no clue what you've just made her feel.

Yandere demon who still takes you to boutiques, urging you to wear the clothes she picked out for you. They're less revealing now, but still stylish - which you appreciate. The clothes are nice, but you were never here for them anyway.

You aren't allowed to wear anything remotely revealing anymore. Not if she can help it. Every single inch of your skin is for her to see. Every single part of you is hers.

Constantly hanging around with you, arms linked and touching you. Your popularity spikes the more the two of you are seen together - simple cause and effect.

She kills the people showing open interest towards you - also simple cause and effect.

Yandere demon who abandoned her duties as a demon tempting mortals to sin, in favor of attending to you. For your affection. You care for her, remember? You made that declaration.

Yandere demon who, in a way, got her plans with you fulfilled. She's doomed you, as she intended. Not to eternal damnation - but to herself.

this is so all over the place but i needed to write her immediately. shes invading my thoughts get her out!!!!!

[elderwisp]

[choucon]

I'm sorry.

I'm cold.

I wanna sleep.

I want to go home.

[a-j-s-the-only]

Would you rather be alone in the woods with a man or a bear?

“a bear would stop at death”

“we aren’t choosing the bear because we’d think we’d survive.”

“I’d rather feed a bear and it’s cubs than feed a man’s sick fantasies”

“people would believe me when I told them I was attacked by a bear”

“people would stop the bear”

“if I survived a bear attack, people would call me a warrior, not a whore.”

“a bear wouldn’t come into my room again.”

“A bear would do it out of survival, not enjoyment.”

“I wouldn’t have to see the bear at family reunions”

“a bear wouldn’t rape you.”

“if it was a bear, who’s going to ask me what I was wearing?”

“bears live in the woods, not in your house.”

“I wouldn’t be told to forgive the bear.”

“a bear can kill her or leave her alone, and a man has that and a million other opportunities.”

-a collection of women, and men

[creative-clawmarks]

I have decided that Brian is a ghost in this AU.

Because I know it will make people sad.

-------------------------

COMMISSIONS

[daystud]

runs for my life from them and you seeing this

[egoarc4de]

if it stops i'm having an unshakable nightmare