#mention of suicide

[awakefor48hours]

Please stop telling people, for any reason, to kill themself. Stop advocating for suicide in any form or capacity.

[placeboelysium]

I'm so sorry to whoever most definitely did this already but I have not seen it yet

(credits to @hadrosoh for coming up with the usernames because I could not)

Also I have so many WIPs rn bear with me

[sinkovia]

Polaroids

Simon Riley x Fem!Reader

Angst, mention of suicide, mention of death.

Underneath the winter sky, the world transformed into a pristine landscape of snow-covered fields and frost-kissed trees. You and Simon found yourselves amidst this winter wonderland, bundled up against the chill, ready to capture a moment frozen in time.

With the camera in your hand, you pulled Simon close, wrapping your arm around him as you both huddled together for a picture. There was anticipation in the air as you counted down. "Three!" you exclaimed, and just as the flash burst into life, Simon seized the opportunity. A mischievous grin played on his lips as he swiftly smashed a snowball onto your head right at the moment the picture was taken.

"Simon!" a mix of laughter and surprise in your voice. Your hair was dusted with snow, and you looked at him with mock indignation, but the gleam in your eyes hinted at joy. Simon, with a mischievous grin, reveled in the success of his snow assault.

The snowball ambush marked the beginning of a delightful chaos. Laughter echoed through the winter air as you both dodged, ducked, and retaliated with fluffy ammunition. The pristine landscape transformed into a battleground, each throw leaving its mark on the snowy canvas.

As you dodged and weaved, Simon's infectious laughter filled the air, his playful spirit contagious. Eventually, he closed the distance between you, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind. You felt a mischievous glint in his eyes, and before you could react, he playfully brought you down into the soft snow. The cold powder cushioned the fall, and you found yourself rolling together, laughter bubbling up between you.

In the midst of the snowy tussle, the world around you blurred into a playful dance of white. The winter air was filled with the sounds of your laughter and the soft crunch of snow.

Eventually, the playful roll came to a gentle stop, leaving you on top of Simon. Amidst the falling glistening snowflakes, you looked into each other's eyes, the two of you catching your breath between fits of laughter.

As your laughter gradually faded into a contented quiet, you leaned down, your smile lingering, and pressed your lips to his in a soft kiss. The softness of the snow beneath you mirrored the tenderness of the stolen moment, and the world seemed to disappear, leaving only the two of you in your snowy sanctuary.

In the midst of this tender exchange, a soft click resonated. You turned your gaze to the right, where Simon held up the camera, capturing another candid moment, immortalizing the post-snowball fight kiss.

Taking the polaroid, you began to huff warm air onto it, warding off the haziness that the cold weather threatened to impose. Squinting at the image, a frown creased your features.

"What's wrong, love?"

"My face is all hazy, damn cold weather."

"Let me see." you turned the photo over so he could examine it with squinted eyes.

"Hmm, only a little, but why would I look at a picture when I'll always have you next to me?" Shaking your head, you kissed him again. "For memories, Si."

Those words echoed in Simon's mind as he held the Polaroid in his hand, sitting alone on a bench. The serene snowy landscape looked dull and gray without you. It had been a year since you passed, your life cut short by a drunk driver hitting the passenger side of the car. The memory of that tragic day haunted him, and the Polaroid served as a bittersweet reminder of the love and laughter that once filled his life.

In the quiet solitude, Simon vividly recalled the moment he turned to look at you in the passenger seat. Laughter filled the car as you both shared a moment over an awful joke. He just wanted another glimpse of you laughing, savoring the way you closed your eyes and held a hand to your stomach in pure joy. Your radiant smile, the tears in your eyes—he longed to see your radiance, a sight he had always cherished.

Then came the headlights on the other side of the passenger window. Panic set in, and Simon tried to react, to steer away, anything to shield you from the impending danger. But it was too late. The impact sent the car flipping several times before landing upright. Simon, initially dazed, was jolted into awareness by the sound of your labored attempts to breathe, a shard of glass embedded on the left side of your neck.

You turned to look at him, tears streaming down your face. Pure desperation filled his gaze as he swiftly unbuckled his seatbelt, reaching over to hold your neck in an attempt to stop the blood spurting from your neck.

"S…si…" Your eyes conveyed agony as your choked attempts at breathing became more shallow.

"Shh, sweetheart, it's okay baby. You're gonna be okay, I promise." He spoke with a tremor in his voice, desperately denying the gravity of the situation when your hand fell limp from your neck, landing in your lap. He reassured himself that you were still alive.

"Help is coming, baby, I promise. Just hang in there, okay? For me, can you do that for me, baby?" His words were a desperate plea, and when he heard you stop trying to breathe, he continued to deny the reality, reassuring himself that you were still alive.

"Just breathe slow, sweetheart. Please, just breathe, baby. Please just—" When your head slumped against his shoulder, he felt his hands begin to shake, a lump forming in his throat that made it hard for him to speak.

"Y/n, baby, I need you to lift… I need you to lift your head up, baby. I can't… I can't." He choked out a sob as his hands slowly moved away from your neck. He started heaving in breaths as he threw open the driver door and collapsed on the ground. His chest tightened, and his heart raced a million miles per hour. He couldn't bear to see your lifeless body. He clawed at his chest as a sharp pain tore through.

He was having a heart attack.

The paramedics arrived just in time to tend to Simon, nearly saving his life, a fact he later cursed them for. Why couldn't they just let him follow you into the afterlife?

Staring at the two Polaroids in his hand, he longed to go back to that day. Back to a time when everything that reminded him of you didn't cause insurmountable pain, a time when he still felt warmth—a time when you were still alive.

Despite the accident not being his fault, Simon carried the burden of self-blame, haunted by the regret of not noticing the oncoming car. The echoes of that fateful day lingered, casting a shadow over the stark winter scene surrounding him. Rising from the bench, he walked back to the house you once shared—a place you had made a home.

In the hallway, he stopped and looked at the framed photo of both of you, taken on your first date. You insisted on framing it, and he softly smiled, almost hearing your voice echo through the walls of the house.

He continued walking until he reached the edge of the bed, where he sat down and pulled out his phone, dialing 911.

"911, what's your emergency?"

“I heard gunshots at my neighbor's house, the address is 1311 Amberville Rd,” he reported stoically before hanging up and reaching for the metal box under his side of the bed. Slowly opening it, he revealed a pistol.

He tried his best to carry on, to honor the memories you had together, to keep you alive through the love in his heart. However, the weight of living without you became unbearable. Tired of waking up each day without you by his side, exhausted from the relentless nightmares that plagued him.

He was simply tired of experiencing life without you.

He took the gun from the box, raising it to his temple. Without hesitating he pulled the trigger.

His eyes flew open, and he quickly sat up in bed, confusion clouding his gaze as he realized it looked just like your shared home. The surroundings appeared brighter, more vivid than before. Slowly getting up, he walked through the hallway, glancing at the framed picture on the wall before searching the entire house, only to find it empty. Opening the front door, he stepped outside, the soft crunch of snow under his shoes echoing with each step. The snow seemed to stretch out for miles, and trees covered in a thin layer of snow surrounded the yard.

Furrowing his brows at the unfamiliar scene, he noticed it was odd—they never had trees in their front yard. He remembered your dream of having big oak and willow trees. He smiled when he remembered the small pout you made when he told you that trees take years to grow full size.

Suddenly, a snowball crashed onto the side of his head. He heard your laughter and turned wide-eyed to see you running up, tackling him to the soft snowy ground. Rolling with you until he stopped, you ended up on top of him. He looked up at you in disbelief, tears welling in his eyes. Cupping your face with shaky hands, he questioned if it was too good to be true. Was he dreaming again? No, this felt too real. You felt too real.

“Y/n?” You smiled and gently pressed your lips to his.

“You came too early, Si.” He shook his head, his eyes bouncing all over your features. “I didn't come soon enough. I'm sorry I kept you waiting, love.” You smiled as you gazed down at him, your heart swelling. He combed his fingers through your hair.

“I missed you so much, sweetheart.” You nestled your head in the crook of his neck. He took in a deep breath, your scent filling him with warmth. “I missed you too, Si.”

[themoonatmingitaw]

It's been centuries since Astarion ascended. Tav cannot do this anymore.

The Baldur's Gate brainrot is real.

[ksilberne]

TW// suicide ended up making a half-assed comic of this, might scribble more :')

[dailykafka]

— February 14, 1914 | Franz Kafka diaries

[dreamtydraw]

Hi Just making this post to talk about that issue because I feel like no one talked about it but Im more than disgusted by jennyvipham’s decisions with her latest game ( going live ) and the recent video i saw on my feed.

for people unaware i’m gonna make it short but go dig yourself : the dev is using suicide as shock value to get her followers to rise her ratings on itch.io.

Why do i talk about it ? First off because it’s terribly handled and for a dev who is very successful and already has a big audience she should have approached it with more precautions. She would have had good ratings anyways based on how big her fanbase is. Suicide is a complex topic and one that I heavily believe should be treated with research and precautions EVEN MORE if it’s used in settings that are meant to bring comfort / be cute .

What made me want to writte this post is that I came accros one video where she asks people to send her art of Micah yujin ( her main character of error 143) dead

Error 143 is a very popular game targeted as a feel good romance storie, bringing death content to the main characters as the dev is exposing people to something they didn’t signed up to see + is more than questionable considering the character is one of the rare representation of a black man Li in dating sims.

This add up to the racist controversies that i wasn’t aware about and are not in good position to talk about since it all happened on twitter ( social media that I don’t use )

I’ll also use this post to tell you that you should leave reviews and coms on games you enjoyed on itch.io as it helps the devs grow and simply makes them happy. Getting review shouldn’t be about emotionaly guilt trip your audience using suicide as marketing technique.

[arrowheadedbitch]

Ok, this is really fucking weird, but i just imagined Like The bats need to distract a room full of people and there's a stage so tim, who drew the short end of the stick, gets on stage and bullshits this whole speech where he's like

Ok, so i don't usually....do stuff. I like do paperwork and shit and thats it, so my brother (dick, obviously) says I "need to try to have fun". Ikr, what an idiot. Anyway I thought I'd try out the whole fun thing, so I guess I'll just try to make up a song or something and we can all just...have fun? Ew. Anyway- and then he starts singing

I'm imagining this song, and he's OBVIOUSLY singing about him and Conner.

And like, of course everyone is distracted, a multi-billionaire kid just hopped up on stage! I'm imaging those videos where someone shouts something ungodly at Harry Styles and you can see the shock in his face.

He's having fun with it, making eye contact with cameras, staring at people, moving around. When he says "Frankly, I don't like clowns" the audience of gothamites cheer

And then at the end he goes

"God, I don't know how you guys do this whole "fun" thing, like I'd rather drink 30 monsters in a row and then try to kill myself"

Jason found it funny, Dick did not.

[charlotteharlatan]

Casual reminder that this scene in Good Omens

(The “I’ll give you a lift, anywhere you want to go” scene, the “you go too fast for me, Crowley,” scene)

Takes place in 1967.

The same year that “homosexual acts” between men were decriminalized (to a certain extent) in England and Wales.

The Sexual Offenses Act of 1967 decriminalized sexual activity in private between consenting men over the age of 21.

This law wasn’t a cure-all, obviously. It still wasn’t safe for gay men to show most forms of affection in public; you could still be charged with gross indecency, the penalties for which could be dire. (Prior to this law, even private, consensual relations could be prosecuted; Alan Turing was charged with gross indecency in 1952, and his subsequent trial, conviction, and chemical castration is considered to be a major factor that led to his suicide in 1954.)

In addition, the age of consent for heterosexual and lesbian couples was 16, in contrast to 21 for gay men. Many attempts to equalize this disparity failed in Parliament until 2000, when the Sexual Offenses Act was amended.

So, the passing of the Sexual Offenses Act “wasn’t a moment of sudden liberation for gay men,” as Florence Sutcliffe-Braithwaite wrote in BBC History. But it was one of the major milestones for LGBTQIA+ rights in the UK. It was a necessary prerequisite for the increase in LGBTQIA+ rights activism that happened there in the 1970s.

For audiences not from the UK (and indeed, to many *from* the UK) much of this historical context will likely be missed by viewers when watching this flashback scene. I’m American and definitely lacked most of this context the first time I watched the show. A viewer may recognize that the backdrop of late-night Soho in the late 1960s represented a very specific cross-section of British society that was considered by much of the general public to be “distasteful” and subversive (to put it VERY mildly) at the time. But that’s just the broad strokes.

Having additional historical details, beyond the broad strokes, goes a long way to deepen our understanding of the cultural landscape that Aziraphale and Crowley would have observed and experienced as residents of London during that period. That secretive rendezvous in the Bentley was not only risky in the sense that they might attract the attention of Heaven or Hell; they also risked being seen by a human, possibly a police officer. To a human, it would have looked like two gay men meeting in public, at night, in an “unsavory” part of London, and could have drawn all sorts of negative attention to the two of them.

The truth is, Aziraphale and Crowley are categorically not gay nor are they men. But they are unquestionably queer and theirs is undeniably a story of queer love. And each time they meet up throughout history, and by necessity must do it clandestinely, the historical context points this queerness out to the audience. It’s queerness the way bell hooks once put it: “‘queer’ not as being about who you’re having sex with (that can be a dimension of it); but ‘queer’ as being about the self that is at odds with everything around it and that has to invent and create and find a place to speak and to thrive and to live.”

In the present day (which will in large part be the time-setting for Season 2), the current social climate for the LGBTQIA+ community is becoming progressively more terrifying.

As recently as 2015, the UK was considered the best out of 49 European countries for LGBTQIA+ rights by the International Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Trans and Intersex Association Europe (ILGA - Europe). Eight years later, the UK’s 2023 ranking on the same index has dropped significantly to 17th place, mostly due to the growing anti-trans rhetoric in public life. Transphobic hate crimes have grown by 56% in England and Wales since ILGA’s 2022 report. Homophobic hate crimes have also increased sharply, up by 41% since 2022.

Meanwhile, in the US, 2023 marks the fourth record-breaking year for anti-trans legislation. So far this year, 562 anti-trans bills have been proposed, 79 of which have been signed into law, and 354 are in active debate in their respective legislatures. In Florida, a bill recently passed that criminalizes gender-affirming healthcare for children and allows the state to take children from their families if they suspect the child is receiving such care. This is not limited to hormone replacement therapy - it also includes gender-affirming talk therapy. Florida has some of the most egregious examples of such legislation, but many states - Texas, Tennessee, Alabama, Indiana, and many others - have certainly been pursuing the same path. The number of sanctuary states is dwindling, and many families in trans-hostile states lack the resources they’d need to move somewhere safer, meaning these families live in a state of constant fear. (“LEAVE TRANS KIDS ALONE, YOU ABSOLUTE FREAKS.”)

So as we get every day closer to Season 2: always bear in mind the context. Remember the past. Be aware in the present. Consider the future and do whatever work that’s within your power to make it a good one.

[at1nys-blog]

Angel wings in the cold of December

Pairing: Jung Wooyoung x fem!reader

Summary: people still leave him, but he loves too much to let them go before they hurt him.

A/N: I didn't want to spoil the main topic of this fic but honestly? I don't care I'd rather make this A/N now and not at the end because it's important for me to let you guys know. First off if the topic, mention of suicide triggers you it's okay if you don't read this one, I get it. I'd rather have you guys safe and away from it if it triggers you than you reading it because I need validations from my readers. Second, if you have suicidal thoughts or know someone that has I want to say that I feel you, I do too. I want to tell you, you aren't alone in the struggle and I promise you, your friends are here for you no matter how many times you get into that rabbit hole. I know it takes all your energies, all your strength to not go on with the thoughts and if you manage to win against them you are strong, you are so strong my dear and I love you for that. If you aren't it's okay, you are strong too. You are not weak, you are not a coward for planning to do it, you are just too tired to keep going on and I still love you for trying your hardest but please, if I'm in time to save any of you, I ask you for one thing: think of who you are leaving behind. Think of the memories you could make with the people that love you, take in consideration that, yes your suffering will end for you but it will transfer to who loves you, to the people that see you like a role model and if you are too deep into your pain that not even that will help you change your mind, is okay. You endured too much and it's okay don't feel guilty for it. Life happens and it's okay. Last thing before you guys read this, I want to talk to whoever lost a loved one to suicide, it wasn't your fault. I need you to undesrtand that, really, it wasn't your fault for not noticing, it wasn't your fault at all, please remember this and when in doubt I need you to repeat it to yourself becuase IT WASNT YOUR FAULT and you weren't a bad friend/family member/partner. It is hard to notice when someone is feeling suicidal because we put on a mask, we trick you into thinking everything is going just great when it isn't. Don't blame your loved ones for commiting, they tried their best day after day, after day until they couldn't anymore. And lastly, I know I am no one to you but if you need to talk to someone out of your circle of people please hit my inbox anonymously,or not, I am here to listen to you, to give you advice if that is what you need. You aren't alone in this Hell of what is life. I am proud of you guys, always.

He was tired, sick and tired of people leaving him. He was tired of giving all of himself to people that kept going away. He was angry at her for going away like that, without explanations. Without a fight.

Jung Wooyoung loves deeply, he cares more than he could put into words. His love for his family, for his friends, for his loved ones is infinite. Infinite like the starts in the Milky Way, infinite like the numbers. Everybody knows, she knew and still, she left.

Jung Wooyoung rarely gets angry, if he does is because people have crossed the line and he can’t stand for injustice, he can’t stand liars. He can’t stand people like her.

She wasn’t a weak person, he knew she wasn’t but as for right now she was nothing but weak in his eyes. She was a coward. A coward who couldn’t fight the urge to flee away like that. She had been strong for so long, she had lost it at the very end, at least she waited after the celebration, he thought. At least she didn’t ruin his birthaday.

His birthday was a couple of weeks ago, and the man couldn’t phantom how, in the spawn of a couple of days she could have changed so much. He had to see it coming, knowing damn well what he got himself into, she had told him dozens of times that there were going to be good days and other not so good ones, and he had promised her to love her every time, no matter the situation.

He had kept his promise, as best as he could. There were days where he would break down, the pain too much for him to handle, but he tried his best. He is human after all, and é very time he came back to his senses he apologized, he made it better. She didn’t. She broke her promise, leaving him behind like he was nothing. She was there and the next second she wasn’t.

The ride back to the dorm was silent, the driver didn’t dare to turn on the radio. The boys not daring to ask him if he was okay, how could he be? The person he was supposed to spend his life with was gone, forever, like, there wasn’t a way back to avoid all of this.

It was when they got to the dorms, Seonghwa, San, Yunho, Yeosang and Mingi going to their rooms after a whispered good night. Jongho and Hongjoong walking on eggshells while entering in the shared living room after Wooyoung.

The idol took off his shoes in a rush, he only wanted to lay down as soon as possible, avoiding small talks and being asked if he was going to be okay. He knew it was going to be okay, well, he knew he was going to live with it and with time it was going to get better, but now? He was broken. He was devastated to the core of his existence. He had to let it out and he did. Screaming into the pillow of the shared couch.

Jongho and Hongjoong were at his sides in a second, waiting for him to ask for comfort before doing anything to upset him furthermore. And when their friend started sobbing, hiding his face for a little bit it broke their heart.

“Why? Why did she do it?” He knew why, he knew this day was gonna come but he never thought this early. Not when she had promised to go to him if she felt like taking away her own life. “Hyung…” the look on the younger idol’s face was of pure sadness. His eyes freeing tears down his cheeks, his beautiful cheeks, always round for all the times he spent smiling, were now inviting into them salty tears of sadness. “Why she did it?” The leader didn’t say a word, he wasn’t sure Wooyoung wanted a real answer, he only let him crush into him. Hongjoong left him free to cry into his chest. He left Wooyoung’s heart ache for his lost.

Jongho stood up, walking into Wooyoung’s room to see if it was in need of cleaning. The days prior to the funeral he never saw Wooyoung exiting his room, if not to go to the bathroom and to have something to eat. Seeing the state of the place he started cleaning up beginning from picking up the clothes from his floor.

In the mountain of dirty laundry he managed to find some of hers, he imagined Wooyoung had took them out to sleep with them, to feel her warmth and perfume just once more. It was about to start with the desk, God the state of that desk, when he heard his name being called from the living room.

“Can you make Woo a tea please?” Asked Hongjoong, still holding the crying man in his arms. The younger one only nodded, jogging to the kitchen to get the tea ready the sooner.

Wooyoung wasn’t going to stop any time soon and both Jongho and Hongjoong knew the others could hear the crying, both of them knew they felt heart broken for not being able to do anything to help him.

Jongho broke down, and he was glad he was giving his back to his friends. He wanted to stay strong, he really wanted to wait before mourning properly but Wooyoung’s sobs were filled with sadness, with pain and desperation, it broke his heart and he couldn’t keep back his tears. It was silent, and short. The time for the water to boil, the time for him to dip the tea bag into the cup. The time to recollect himself.

Jongho left the cup on the glass table, not saying a word, trying to make his presence noticeable as least as possible. Hongjoong mouthed him a thank you, then told Wooyoung to take a deep breath and drink some of the tea that was just made. He needed to hydrated, he needed to calm down. He had to bring his breath to a normal rythm if he didn't want to choke on air.

It took Wooyoung some minutes before he was done crying his heart out, it took some minutes for Wooyoung to collect all the energies left in his body to get up and get to his room to change himself into his pajamas. Hongjoong had to go with him, mostly because Wooyoung didn't seem to want to let go of him. Hongjoong didn't mind, not tonight at least.

Jongho stayed behind, watching with a broken heart how his friend had to drag himself. He never saw Wooyoung this broken, not this much. Now that he tought about it he never saw Wooyoung sad, maybe mad but never sad. For sure he saw him dissapointed but not sad, not until now. He made a promise to never make him sad, nor let anyone else make him sad.

Entering the room Hongjoong scanned it with a quick stare "Woo, why don't you take a shower?" he suggested and the guy was ready to protest but the leader stopped him before he could say anything. "You need it, please?" Wooyoung didn't protest, only scoffed while dragging himself into his private bathroom.

Hongjoong wasn't the tidiest memeber of the group, he was a creative guy with his mind always ready to do something new and as his mind was dominated by chaos also his room and studio were but now? he needed to help Wooyoung keeping his room as clean as possible considered the situation he was in.

It took a long time for Wooyoung to shower and change, Hongjoong was glad about it. Stumbling upon some of her stuff he could let his tears run free without making Wooyoung start crying again, he couldn't bear the sight of it. He had been so strong the past days leading to the funural and all just to be Wooyoung's rock, a shoulder for him to cry on.

Wooyoung went straight to bed, tireness written all over his face and Hongjoong was ready to get to bed too when he stopped him, with the request for him to stay and not going away. Hongjoong couldn't refuse his plea and without changing he laid next to Wooyoung, him bringing his hands around Hongjoong's waist using his tummy as a pillow.

"Hyung, don't leave" were his words before falling asleep.

"I am not going anywhere, Woo. Promise." he declared, stroking his hair while his eyes went wet once again.

[awakefor48hours]

TOH Fans: OMG, you should watch The Owl House, there's gay witches that kiss on screen!!

Plot points about government corruption, ethnic cleansing, living with a chronic disability, white washed history, working through grief, having abusive parental figures, overcoming suicidal thoughts, and more

[junipum]

the fucking. realization that his sanity is slowly slipping from him as he sees his subconscious hallucination laughing at the mic and singing a song called enjoy yourself. directly after nearly killings himself to get rid of it, feeling normal for a few hours, thinking you’re in the clear; only to realize that A, it didn’t work, and B, now he has no other option but to realize that he either loses the thing holding him back from hurting himself more, or loses his intelligence and ability to diagnose, which is the only thing he feels his life is worth. all of this, right as he quietly whispers wilson’s name into the phone .

[puellamagiholyquintet]

[lasbiarez]

um... Falling and Failing by winterhats kinda hits hard

[pipinboots]

WHAT THE CRUDNUGGETS IS HAPPENING!!!!!!!! I have been crying about this all morning 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭💀💀💀💀 noooooooo my sunshine l know your traumatized as hell but WHYYYYYYY 😭💀 my emotional crushes, and how when YONA and hak hugged him he was like huuuu???! But then he went straight to thinking that there going to hurt zeno THEY LOVE YOU YOU YOU BIG IDIOT!!😭😭

😭😭😭cry's intensity 💀😭😭😭

AND THEN THERES THISSSSSS ,😭😭 WHY DO YOU LOOK SOOOOI SHOCKED HESSS IMORTAL HESSS LIVED 2000 YEars AND WATCHED ALL HIS LOVED ONES DIE INFRONT OF HIM OR FELT THEM DIE WHILE HES BEING Dismembered KNOW ING HEL NEVER SEE ANY OF THEM AGAIN!!! HE IS NOT OK !!! AND NOW HE TELLS US HES BEEN WATCHING HIS BROTHERS CHILDREN AS HE PUTS IT SUFFER FOR Eternity NOT BEING ABLE TO HELP THEM!! 😭😭😭😭😭😭💀💀💀💀💀❤️❤️

YOUUU LIED TCH TCH TCH NAUGHTY SWEETHEART NOOOOOO 😭😭 ❤️

ZENO IS GOOD AT FORGETTING PEOPLE HE'LL NEVER SEE AGAIN" YOU LITTLE BITCH STOP IT YOUR KILLING ME AND HOW HE TALKS IN THE THIRD PERSON WHILE SAYING THIS LIKE HOW HE Usually TALKs here

GO BESTIE FOLLOW YOUR DREAMS 😭

GET THOSE FOOLS IN HEaVEN TO FEAR YOU AND EXTEND SHINHA KIJA AND JAHAS LIVES,

HE LOOKS SOOO SAD HE NEEDS NO MUCH THERAPY 😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️MY LIKE YELLOW DRAGON AHHHHHH

[queeresthellhound]

My mother always loved Jesus more than she loved me

And my mother hears me say I was drafted into a holy war I never wanted to be in

Expected to ostracize myself with joy because if the other children hated me it’s because they were Satanic

And sees nothing wrong with it except that I defected.

And she reads the essay I wrote in the third grade before I even knew where babies came from

Saying that if I were president abortion would be illegal everywhere

Because I had been groomed to be a Christian Nationalist ready to ruin lives for the lord

And thinks not that it is horrific a child of not even 12 would write that but rather how horrific it is I do not believe it anymore.

My mother always loved Jesus more than she loved me

And if she was called to do as Abraham, and if I was called to become her Isaac she would have done it

And on the long walk home she would have told me that it was god’s will and that he had a plan that’s bigger than all of us

And at one time I would have believed everything she said on the long journey home, nodding my head silently

Because if she loved Jesus more than me, he must know something that I don’t.

And when my very life was saved by EMTs and doctors and nurses and so many others

Who worked their asses off to make sure my mother’s only begotten son would not be lost

My mother thought of a different only begotten son, the son of John 3:16

And when I survived she praised him for saving her wayward, rebellious child who had hardened his heart to her precious Jesus

Instead of the sinful humans who did all of the work.

And when I had finally gotten up the courage to sit on her bed, bawling my eyes out, a river spring up from the spot I occupied

Telling her that her darling Jesus made a mistake, that I was a mistake,

She decided that god had not made a mistake but that my sinful existence was a part of his holy plan

And then days later shoved me back in the closet with the force of a summer thunderstorm

Because the mouthpieces of Jesus decided that I could not decide for myself what a life of joy looked like

And after all she always loved Jesus more than me.

And my mother still thinks that I will come back to the flock

Despite the fact that I have a crisis every time I step in a church

Despite the fact I see myself as chewed gum, licked cupcakes, dirty duct tape for being alive

Despite the fact that at lectures which remind me of sermons I feel trapped behind a window in my brain

Despite the fact that her church would vote me out of existence tomorrow if given the choice

Despite the fact that her church friend’s “love” for me is predicated on me coming back to their cult

Because my mother has always loved her abusive, manipulative, absentee, deadbeat son Jesus more than the son standing right in front of her

Because Jesus can be anyone and anything she needs him to be

And I can only ever be a goat standing in a flock of sheep, hoping no one ever looks close enough to notice the differences.