#I'm making the tags too long but I'm frothing at the mouth okay

[thebeeshaveknees]

I live for trolls being fully insulted by the idea Branch had 5 (Five) close family members old enough to raise him after he was orphaned but all 5 (FIVE) of them didn't even visit. Not even main character trolls, I'm talking complete strangers seeing any of Branch's brothers and berating them in the middle of the street.

#dreamworks trolls #perfume branch #All troll grandparents stan Branch and I live by that #They were there they were living in fear and they're not young enough to forget as easily as the generation of drowning out worries #But they were pushed to the back of the stage because there were so few of them instead of their worries being satiated #Branch having a bunker and coming to them asking for help preserving food and stocking his bunker put a lot of old souls at ease okay #Little 10 year old Branch asking elders to teach him the life skills his grandma never got to because adults just wanted to fix his gayness #The elders were the only ones that actually knew gray trolls or were gray trolls #I'm making the tags too long but I'm frothing at the mouth okay #*grayness #The gayness should also be addressed tho

[fettuccin-e]

Honey-Sweet

Description: You're far too sweet for him. He's determined not to ruin you, despite the fact that he seems to ruin everything, and everything about you just seems to make his fantasies worse. But one night can change everything, apparently, when Miguel finally sees how completely not sweet you can be.

Tags: Miguel O'Hara x Reader, afab!fem!reader, hoooh boy a lotta smut okay, oral (m and f recieving), unprotected piv (pls oh pls wrap it up irl fuck them kids), riding, doggy, missionary, some fluff bc i'm not completely deranged, light degradation (w/c: 2.1K)

A/N: oh lord the Miguel brainrot is REAL folks okay this is fucking crazy. I WANT THIS MAN TO **** ** **** * ****** ******* okay he has me fuckin frothing at the DAMN MOUTH actin like a DAMN DOG okay so please enjoy a bit of a miguel smutfest

You’re too fucking sweet for him. That’s what he tells himself. Miguel O’Hara doesn’t do sweet.

You’re fucking sweet with the way you bring cookies in for the other Spiders that accompany you on missions. You’re sweet in how you brought in a ridiculous hand-made baby blanket for Mayday when Peter first brought her in, emblazoned with his Spider-Man logo to wrap her up tight in. You’d kissed the baby on the head, whispering tiny sweet nothings into her bright red hair, and Miguel had had to hide the emergence of his fangs at the sight of it.

You’re too sweet, too kind for him. You organize little movie nights at the office, you make him stay a little longer on missions so you can see the tourist spots from different universes. And the way you look at him, all wide-eyed and bright and smiling… it does things to him.

It makes him want to bring you flowers, kiss you on the cheek. It makes him want to plan fucking candle-lit dinners and bake cupcakes with you. All sweet, too sweet.

But, because he apparently can’t stop himself, you also want to make him do decidedly not sweet things. Like grab at your tits through your suit, pinching your nipples until your knees go weak and you whimper his name in your gorgeous little voice. Like force you down on your knees, fucking his cock into your hot mouth while tears leak down your cheeks. Like tying you up with his webs, eating your pretty cunt out while you struggle against them, whining that “it’s too much, too much Miguel.” Like fucking you deep, so fucking deep on his cock, making you squeeze around him while you scream for him, beg for him to fill you up with cum. He thinks about watching it leak out of your achy pussy, dripping down your thighs.

But you’re so goddamn sweet, too gorgeous and lovely, and he can’t ruin you, he can’t. 

So when you finally wear him down, finally get him to go to coffee with you, he tries to be just as sweet as you. You hold his fucking hand, you kiss him on the cheek. You smile into his mouth as his lips meet yours in front of your apartment door. Miguel swears that his heart will pop with how much it swells when you’re near him.

He brings you flowers, walks you to your door, brings you lunch while you’re filing post-mission paperwork. And God, it’s beautiful. It’s fantastic and bright and so wonderfully domestic that Miguel wonders if he’s died, gone to some heaven he doesn’t deserve. He’s determined to revel in the domesticity of this… thing he’s created with you, his disgusting fantasies be damned.

He doesn’t like to think about how he has to fuck his hand after he drops you off at your house, his lips still burning with the touch of your soft, soft kiss. He thinks about how your lips would look stretched around his dick.

He’s content. He’s happy. For the first time in so fucking long, he’s happy. And he’ll happily tug on his dick by himself for the rest of damn time if it means that he gets to revel in your soft, pretty, wonderful sweetness for a little bit longer. He will not ruin you.

But.

As he kisses you softly in front of your apartment, the both of you still suited up from your latest mission, you tug him closer. You pull him down into your hungry mouth, and you lick into him like you’re starving for it. He can’t help how he growls at the feeling of it, his big hands coming to clutch at your hips. God, you’re pretty, fucking addicting with the way your tongue tangles with his and how you whimper when his hands cup your ass, tugging you up just that extra inch.

“Take me to bed, Miguel,” you gasp between feverish kisses, and fuck, he’s gone.

He hauls you into his arms, and his knees almost go weak at the way you wrap your thighs tightly around his middle, the way you lick into his mouth all over again.

And Miguel has spent so much time in his head, thinking, no, knowing that you’re sweeter than goddamn pie. It’s in every fucking breath you take, every moment he spends with you. 

But that night, as he lays you onto the bed, gently, gently like you deserve, he learns that you’re not as sweet as he thinks you are.

Not at all.

Not with the way you roll him over with your strength, begging for him to disengage his suit, looking at him like you want to devour him as it dissolves around him, leaving him bare to your gaze. You graze a reverent hand up his chest as he heaves under you, whispering, “God, can’t believe I’ve waited this long to have you like this. You’re so pretty, Miguel.” 

Pretty. Pretty? He can’t be the pretty one, no, not when you’re unzipping your own suit, and he can see everything. Every inch of supple, soft skin. Your nipples, hard and peaked and begging for his touch. Your pretty, pretty pussy; he can see how you’re practically dripping, the wetness between your legs glistening in the soft lamplight.

And you’re not sweet, not sweet at all, when you nip and suck little marks down his chest and abs, grinning up at him like a damn siren when he gasps at your touch. Fuck, you’re the opposite of everything he thought when you take his cock into your mouth, bobbing deeper, deeper until you just can’t anymore, jacking the rest of his cock while you kiss and lick and suck at him.

You grab his hand with your free one, and pull it into your hair. You pull up from his cock, and Christ, there’s a line of your spit that connects you to his throbbing tip, and Miguel thinks that he might die. 

“Fuck my face, baby?” you rasp, and yes, that’s it, Miguel is going to fucking die here. But he can’t refuse you, with those gorgeous eyes gazing up at him, the tip of his cock on your tongue. 

It’s not sweet, not at all, when he forces your head down on his cock, pressing himself deep into your pretty little mouth. And you moan like you love it, just taking it as he thrusts roughly into your mouth. Your spit runs down his shaft, your little whimpers and the way you choke when the tip jams into the back of your throat all echoing in his ears. 

He can’t hear himself, but God, you can. You relish the way he growls every time he pushes you down deep, telling you that, “You’re such a good girl, hermosa. Mierda, mi nena perfecta.” Your pussy throbs.

He isn’t soft, isn’t gentle like he told himself to be when he pulls you off his cock. You gasp for air, and Miguel groans as he pulls you up by your hair, dragging your spit-slick lips to his mouth. He can taste himself on your lips, all sticky and hot and puffy. 

You whine against his mouth, murmuring little pleas of “fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” into him, and his cock twitches, red and aching desperately for your touch. 

“Have to make sure you’re ready,” he mumbles, even though he aches, even though his claws threaten to show. 

“Nononono,” you whine, and then you sit back, hovering over his cock, fucking monstrous compared to the tiny opening of your dripping pussy, and press down.

Fuck, it’s like heaven inside you, all perfect and wet and hot, and you whine, muttering that, “It’s so fucking big, God, stretches me so perfect, so fucking perfect, so much bigger than I could have dreamed-“

“Nena,” he interrupts you with a hoarse groan of his own, “gotta stop, ‘s gonna, gonna hurt you, oh fuck-“ 

And you grin at him again, filthy and raunchy and not sweet at all, as you say “I fucking want it to hurt, Miguel. Wanna feel you in the morning, wanna feel you all the time.” And you press yourself the rest of the way down his thick cock, gasping for air, your hips twitching like they can’t decide whether to run away from the sensation or seek it. 

“Fuck, wanna feel you all the time,” you murmur and Miguel can’t decide whether you’re actually talking to him or not. “Want you to fuck me so hard I can’t breathe, fill me up so fucking perfect, God, oh my God, ‘m so fucking full,” you roll your hips forward in desperate little circles, a weak attempt at getting him deeper. An endless stream of “fuck me, fuck me, please please please,” starts to leave your lips again, and you sound so desperate, so needy, that Miguel can’t help but roll you over, pinning you underneath him, and fucking his cock so hard and so deep into you that you dig your fingers into his back and sob.

He does what you ask that night. He fucks you and fucks you and fucks you, until tears leak from your eyes and your bed is soaked with a mixture of yours and his cum. And God, you scream for him, begging him for more, deeper, harder.

The slick sounds of your bodies meeting over and over must be heard all over the building, but Miguel can’t bring himself to care, not when he’s able to fuck you like this, disgusting and filthy.

How could a sweet, lovely, soft thing like you love this so much?

From that night on, it seems that all bets are off. From that night on, it seems that you make it a mission to show him exactly how not sweet you are.

Fuck, there’s no sweetness to you when you hump your hips into his face the next morning, practically smothering him in your pussy as you squeal and tangle your fingers in his hair. He digs his fingers so hard into your thighs that he’s sure they’ll bruise, and licks up your juices. Your pussy is honey-sweet on his tongue.

You’re not soft when you ride him into the mattress, throwing yourself down onto his cock and moaning as you stretch yourself out. You drag your nails down his chest as you bounce desperately in his lap, and Miguel kind of hopes you draw blood.

There isn’t an ounce of innocence when you sink down on your knees under his desk when he’s in a goddamn meeting, pulling his cock out and sucking at him until his claws shoot out and leave splintering holes in his desk. He has to hide his fangs from the video camera when you choke. 

When he finally, finally cuts the meeting short, feeding the other Spider-Men some bullshit excuse about a new anomaly, he presses your head to the base of his cock and shoots his cum down your throat. He means it as a punishment, but when he pulls you off his cock, and sees you with your eyes all glassy and smiling lazily, he can’t help but bend you over the desk and finger fuck you until you cry and scream and beg for him to fuck you with his cock.

You are so far from sweet when he fucks you on the floor after a mission, tensions run too taut and adrenaline racing through your veins. You throw your ass back onto him with every thrust into your sloppy cunt, moaning as he growls, “Such a fucking slut, can’t get enough of this cock, huh? My sweet, sweet girl, what would the rest of the Spiders say if they knew what a fucking whore you are for me?” 

And when you choke on your spit around your screams, he leans down to whisper that, “I know, cariño, I know. I'm gonna take care of you,” before he shoves your face down into the carpet and mounts you, shoving his fat cock down into you again and again and again.

Miguel is positive that he’s died and gone to heaven.

It’s not to say that you’re not the same, sweet girl who brings cookies to the office and holds his hand. No, you’re the same, perfect, sweet girl, only that you let him thank you for the cookies by eating you out on the kitchen floor. You hold his hand while you jerk his cock and swallow his moans with your kiss.

You’re just the right kind of sweet for him.

#yeah so #i wrote this in a TRANCE #want this man to throw me around like a ragdoll #can you tell that im ovulating #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 x you #across the spiderverse fic #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x reader

[hitomisuzuya]

HIII SUZUUU first time requesting kind nervous lol. For once finally ur requests are open when I'm up 😭 I've been thinking abt scummy scara way too much lately like literally basically imagine just going on a cute date with him only for him to fuck you dumb the second u guys arent in public 🤭🤭🤭

Scaramouche x fem!reader. Scummy Scaramouche. Smut. Edging. Teasing. Degradation. Some date fluff. Reader is hinted in having a metal allergy cause I am allergic to gold jewelry.

Have I said how much I love when requests are worded like this 😳😌 No one should feel nervous requesting from me. 🥺

It was no secret that Scaramouche was a trust fund baby. And the one thing he liked to do with that money is spend it on you. He has to spoil his precious girl, after all.

If there was a cute stuffed animal you looked at for even a second in passing, it was yours. You wanted a book, he bought the whole series for you. You commented on how pretty a piece of expensive jewelry was, he bought it without hesitation. Especially if it was silver. Your skin was finicky about certain metals.

Scaramouche thought silver was prettier, anyways. Not prettier than you. How dare a metal even consider coming close to you.

He always touching you in some way as you walked. An arm around your waist, holding your hand, even sitting down somewhere he had his hand on your thigh. You were taken, damn it, and he needed to make the perfectly clear to anyone who looked.

"Scara, you've spent enough money on me already," You fretted, making him chuckle as he stopped in front of a lingerie boutique in town.

"Nonsense, I insist," Scaramouche replied. Oh yeah, he always insisted. Especially if it meant picking out lingerie for him to rip off later.

God, just picturing how you would look in the lacy black, blue, and purple lingerie to picked out for you was starting to make his cock twitch. "If you need any help, I can come in with you," He said, wishing the changing room door had some kind of keyhole.

"No, Scara, it's okay. I can manage," You said, blushing from how enthusiastic he sounded about helping you put everything on.

That wasn't the point. He needed to see how you looked in them. His imagination was starting to drive him a little crazy. His fingers were shaking with need, and the anticipation of getting his hands on you.

Even the lady behind the counter was starting to give him a stern look. He probably looked something like a dog frothing at the mouth.

With many bags in hand, back you headed with Scaramouche to his dorm. No sooner were you a few steps from it, he was making you drop bags right in the hallway, pushing you against the wall. His hands roamed greedily over your body, biting at your lips as he kissed you.

"Mmmm~," He purred, hooking his fingers through your panties, "you wore the one I hoped you would out of the store." He could hardly wait when you had given him only a price tag to take up to the counter with everything else.

Throwing open his dorm room door, Scaramouche stumbled inside with you, his lips never leaving yours. His hands pawed at your clothes, standing behind you in front of his mirror so he could watch himself remove the lacy purple lingerie. "Purple always looks so pretty on your skin," He kissed and bit at your shoulder as he unhooked your bra, groping your breasts before tugging it off.

Guiding you over to his bed, he pushed you down on it, spreading your legs as he licked a long the inside of your thighs. You squirmed, his spit rolling down the inside of your thighs to soak against the fabric.

"Ha, getting wound already. What a needy slut you are," He purred excitedly, hastily tugging your panties off. His eyes drank in your form spread out before him, just as hastily taking off his clothes. "Can't wait for me to fuck you dumb on my cock, hm?"

You whimpered, grinding needily against him as he pressed the tip of his aching cock on your clit. It sounded so fucking sweet to him that he had to hear it over and over again.

Scaramouche groaned every time he heard you whimper, relentlessly teasing the tip of his cock against your entrance. The way you squirmed on desperation, your walls fluttering and clenching around it was a drool worthy sight to him. His mouth said as much, drool dripping down onto your chest.

"Scara, please, put your cock all the way in me. I can't take much more," You pleaded, reaching down to grasp his cock to try and urge it inside of you. "Cum inside of me."

That sent him feral. Folding your body, and throwing your legs over his shoulder, his slid his cock slowly inside of you. Groaning, he cursed when his cock rested against your sweet spot. Pulling out to the tip, he slowly pushed himself back inside so he could feel your walls clench tight around his cock as he bottomed out again.

Every thrust made you see stars, your eyes rolling closed. Wrapping your arms around him, you clung to him. Scaramouche was determined for the entire campus to hear how good he was fucking you.

"Fuck, look at me when you cum, slut," Scaramouche hissed, pounding himself inside of you, his entire body quivering, his cock throbbing with his approaching orgasm.

Your eyes snapped open, tears welling in them as his lips captured yours to swallow your moans. He bit at your lips, pulling away when your legs started to tremble in pleasure.

"Scream it, whore. Who's fucking you this good, hm?" Scaramouche pushed your legs farther up towards your head, his husky moans only rose in octave as he drove he cock deeper inside of you.

"Scaramouche! Scaramouche! Scaramouche!" The way you chanted his name like mantra, your release flooding around his cock made him cum suddenly inside of you. He left his cock resting deep into your sweet spot, his warm cum ribboning inside of you. You felt every throb of his cock.

Panting, Scaramouche pulled out of you after a few long minutes of feverishly fucking his cum back inside of you. Rolling off of you, he latched one of his lips around your nipple, sucking on it as he scooped some of his cum onto his fingers.

Your back arched off the bed, gasping when he rubbed and hooked his fingers over your sweet spot. You still hadn't entirely come down from your orgasm.

Scaramouche only wanted to continue to make his precious girl feel as good you made him feel. By cumming again all over his fingers.

#genshin impact #genshin smut #fem!reader #genshin imagines #scaramouche #scummy scara #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x you #scaramouche imagines #yandere scaramouche #modern au

[mangle-my-mind]

Slash Ships to Get to Know Me

**Rules**: Name at least five (no upper limit) slash (M/M) ships you love. Each from a different fandom.

Thanks @autumnsup for tagging me! My brain immediately went haywire trying to think of this list. I might steal a few ships that you mentioned ;) also my definition of what constitutes slash is a pretty loose one. Some of these relationships I imagine as & instead of /, but I still froth at the mouth thinking about them so I'm including them here.

Velvet Goldmine - Jack Fairy/Curt Wild. This one isn't explicitly in the movie, but the dynamics of Jack and Curt just make it such a worthwhile relationship to explore. There's so much care and tenderness I can imagine between them, with Jack being there for Curt at one of his lowest points and the two of them working on music together. In my fic "In Berlin," I displayed their relationship as more or less platonic, but that doesn't mean I don't ABSOLUTELY LOVE the idea of them being together more intimately. There are some amazing gorgeous fics of Curt/Jack out there that I have read a million times over! (Close VG seconds are Arthur/Curt and Jack/Malcolm. Curt/Brian is important of course, and I love reading fic about it, but it's just too doomed for me to put my heart behind lol)

Our Flag Means Death - Ed Teach/Stede Bonnet. Oh my god. OH MY GOD. The way this show rotted my brain. The way these gay pirates seeped into my consciousness and won't leave. Their story so far has been so wonderful (and devastating - that goes without saying) and I'm so excited for their relationship to deepen in season 2. There's promise of more drama, more romance, and more spiciness! In the meantime, though, I'm eternally grateful to the literal tens of thousands of Ed/Stede fics that build on this love story. (Jim/Oluwande and Lucius/Pete are also incredible)

Beatles - McLennon. Okay, so this one is kind of wishy-washy for me because of the rpf element. There have been some McLennon fics that have given me everything I'd ever want and more. Then there have been fics that just made me uncomfy. This is a personal thing and not at all trying to hate on any fic writers; sometimes the spiciness gets too much when I remember John and Paul are real-life people. Regardless - McLennon is a love story. It is. They were in love, no matter how you look at it, and their relationship and how it manifested in their music and actions is such an interesting arc to observe. Ugh I just love reading their quotes about each other, seeing their studio interactions, analyzing their lyrics in songs directed at each other. And there have been so many fics that have captured this relationship between them so beautifully (whether or not it was accurate, it felt real enough to me). I've been in the Beatles fandom longer than in any other fandom, and even if I don't approach the John/Paul ship the way I do fictional ships, it brings me so much joy to learn about and read about and see art about their decades-long love story. (Another Beatles-ish relationship I've been loving lately is George/Bob Dylan. They are absolute girlies maximizing their joint slay)

Across the Universe - Jude/Max. This ship is kind of recent, though my love for the movie is years-old. On a recent rewatch, I realized that actually, no, Jude and Lucy aren't really right for each other, no matter how hopeful that ending seems for their story. And I love the dynamic between Max and Jude. And I've read some incredible fics recently covering just that. So yes, give me more Jude/Max please. And all Beatles fans should watch this movie btw. Also fans of trippy visuals and ambitious musical numbers and fun cameos (Bono? Eddie Izzard? Salma Hayek? Joe Cocker? sign me up)

Trainspotting - Renton/Sick Boy. Again a movie that has been a part of my life for so freaking long, but a ship that came a little later. I love their dynamic and how it changes through the films. In the 90s, they're kinda dicks to each other, but "he's a mate" so they tolerate each others' antics. The fics written about this era are so interesting, because on the surface there's a lot of shitty behavior to each other, but underneath there's always care and love. By the time they reach the 2010s, they've been estranged for twenty years, and yet they really do cling to each other. Part of that is just clinging to the past and trying to recreate some beautiful bygone days they're imagining, but still there's love between them. Anyway go read some Mark/Simon fic because it's always a good time.

Thanks again for tagging me! Anyone feel free to get in on this. I'll tag @moonage-xx-daydream @holy-loki - if you guys feel like doing it :)

#tag game #favorite slash ships #open tag

[thereadersmuse]

i hate to bring it back up but i really wish that di would leave you tf alone. she has some nerve to be sitting here calling people everything under the sun when she knows damn well she was being super creepy and predatory, trying to drag people into shit, and insinuating that you stalk her as if you don't got a whole ass life off of here with better things to do. i'm just over it tbh i wish there was a report function.

I am not going to discuss this latest bout of bullshit much more because honestly I could be doing something constructive, like unloading the dishwasher or trying to figure out how often I can get away with getting my engagement ring cleaned for free in a year without taking advantage our jeweler.But it blows my god damned mind that this 72ish hour romp into insanity happened because her sense of self is so fragile she literally could not handle her friend following me and select others. I should point out I had this user unfollowed due to their association with @dicaptio in the height of the ‘bad time’s™. We have not spoken before this, perhaps for years if not ever. Yet,  I was reached out to by that user with a heartfelt apology. So I checked @dicapito’s page to figure out what the hell was going on and basically this entire saga is an entire temper tantrum because @dicapito lost a friend due to her own behavior.Yes. I know, right?What her insane little manifesto yesterday neglected to provide (along with context, proof, self-awareness, facts, etc) was the reality that her and I go a long ways back. I didn’t just pop out of the ground like a gorgeous little shitflower and spontaneously decide to make her life hell or keep apprised of her bullshit for zero reason.As almost everyone knows, she started it.She was just starting in the fandom and was very active. Always having an issues with something and someone, and at the time we first engaged it was her post discussing people shipping daryl x aaron that caught my attention. I hadn’t had any interaction with her at the time but she posted something in the tags that caught my attention so we conversed just fine. The problem was my spite fics had not made me popular (understandably) in the c@ryl fandom and someone took the opportunity to jump on @dicapito’s desire for constant negative attention and drama. They told her a point blank lie, that I shipped b3thyl and that was literally all she needed to make my life a living hellscape for the next year and change. She didn’t know me. She didn’t know or care about the context. She saw an opportunity for attention from a big chunk of the fandom and took it. And so, I became favorite punching bag daily along with b3thyl, Beth, Emily Kinney, etc. It never stopped. Ever. It even came through on my own dash. From people I followed and admired. It was not a good time.

I just checked my receipts and that first post clocks this bullshit at two entire years ago. Said receipt no longer exists on her blog or the other. Only on mine. As they both deleted and remade their accounts. Unlike me…

Anyway, moving on.I thought that by not engaging I was taking the better path. Being the better person. But that just gave her power. Because at that time her base was large and very happy to hear her bash the things they never had to do themselves. It was a time when fandom tensions were at an all time height and the b3thyl ship was gaining serious traction in the fandom so it was the perfect storm.It wasn’t until I started standing up for myself. Engaging her. Refuting her. Pointing out her lies with facts and proof. Taking screenshots. Being combative. Documenting her fuckery that things changed. She lost her base. And then she turned on them too. Doing what she’d done to the groups above, she spammed the c@ryl tags for months. Hopping on posts just to be an asshole. All the while blaming me for the loss of her base and popularity. She did this in numerous other fandoms as well.And through the process she taught me an important lesson.Sometimes you need to be proactive.Even if it is fucking annoying.But that obviously doesn’t fit her victim complex and raging narcissism- so, instead, I am a stalker, hater, pedo, racist, heterosexual jar of unseasoned mayo and the overall causation for everything that has ever gone wrong in her life in general.That tag is so full of her because whether she was after me, my friends, the c@ryl tag or c@rylers in general you couldn’t miss her. She was so present and filled with such a frothing desire to go after those she felt wronged her, she left us with a lot of examples to comment on. She has repeatedly threatened me with physical harm, lies constantly, accused me of racism, of making light of her domestic violence assault. Hell, she attacks her ‘friends’ when they disagree with her. So, yeah- whether it’s occasional check in’s, knowing when she is on a tear about me or my friends, or being informed by others, I do make sure I know what she is saying and if necessary make a record of it. Because as the last few days have shown, I always seem to need it to point out her falsehoods and break up her self-narrative.Personally I think the stalking label is cute. I guess I would be stretching too if I kept getting presented with receipts and had no way of explaining them. Focusing on something else at max volume works well for certain politicians after all.Personally, especially after her posts including racist slurs yesterday directed at the people I’m friends with, I actually asked myself a question I’ve been avoiding, because honestly it is easier to hate her fully for what she is than form any other complex thoughts about it. The question is- is she okay? Truly. Her posts regarding this issue seemed immensely unhinged in nature. More so than her usual fare. Every one of her claims have been repeatedly refuted with facts and/or context. And since I am surrounded with good friends and support, I am as content as possible with not only my response, but my continuing position on this matter.

No one has to like me. Or like the fics. Or like that I keep tabs on her when she gives me valid reasons to do so. But one must ask yourself, given the presented evidence, that perhaps this really isn’t about the fics or me at all. It’s about her.Ultimately, if she leaves me and others alone. I will do the same. But considering she can’t seem to keep my name out of her mouth years later, just because her friend decided he had his own agency over who he followed, I’m not holding my breath.

#anon response #the petty dead