#exposed to the elements

[den-of-whump]

Whumpee who despises being touched and so Whumper decides to "train it out of them" by putting them in a freezing cold room or putting them outside in the snow or something, leaving them there for a while, and then coming to get them like, "If you want to be warm, it will be through me holding you."

[whumblr]

Happy winter!

How about a whumper throwing whumpee through the ice of their frozen swimming pool :) Sending them back into the freezing water with a swift kick to the chin when they're trying to get out.

Or stepping on frozen, shaking fingers clutching the edge of the pool.

Orrr just let whumper retreat to the warmth of his house, knowing that whumpee won't even attempt to get out because they know the consequences of disobeying :)) (Checking in on them after about 15 minutes, taking them back inside to deal with the cold, cold aftermath)

[tenth-sentence]

If you have never been in the wild wilderness, day and night, for weeks, you will hardly understand how they felt.

"The Chronicles of Narnia: The Silver Chair" - C. S. Lewis

[probably-bad-idea]

Ok so theory time

In the beginning of Frankenstein, Victor says he made the creatures limbs perfectly proportional and that he was perfect, the only thing that was "wrong" with him was his eyes

But now I'm at the end and Walton says that the creature is horribly disproportionate and that his hands resemble a mummy

Could that mean that while Victor did make life, the corpse parts are still decomposing so Adam has become more and more monstrous as the years have passed?

Like.... the creature decays unbelievably fast and Victor just gets worse in health making them weirdly mirror each other with how their mutual hatred is literally consuming them and ruining their respective lives

[shinmiyovvi]

The Savior and The Oppressor

Alt. version under the cut

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

About the Lights Out AU, wouldn't the building start crumbling due to weathering and stuff since there's no maintenance? Wouldn't the roof fall apart or like part of it at some point?

oh, yes. yes it would.

[eggwishing]

our couch was moldy anyways

[unfriendlyamazon]

lol maybe how i hunt for fanfiction is different from everyone else but the thought of doing weird math to prove a fic is good or not when there's a million gems that don't enough hits/kudos for whatever reason you're going to get a much better indication of quality and appeal from the tags and summary than you ever will from stats like that

[bybdolan]

speaking my truth in a way that hopefully does not sound like i am diminishing Taylor's accomplishments... I really do not jive with Swifties using the financial success of the Eras Tour movie vs. the Renaissance Tour movie (that is still hugely successful!) as a sign that Taylor is per se a better artist. It is simply a stupid conclusion because financial success =/= quality, but I want to specifically point out the fact that Taylor simply has set her career and her art up in a way that caters to a very broad audience in a way that Beyonce has not. Obviously Taylor still takes risks and such, but she is not a very sexual artist, her activism (though good!) is not an inherent and visible part of her art the way it is in Beyonce's case, and she is white.

[whumblr]

Early christmas

Continuation from this for @bluesoulpeace. Apparently, I still had a continuation lying around so I freshened it up a bit and here you go :D There's nothing christmassy, just some aftermath of electrocution.

-

Trembling fingers touched over the shock collar and while still breathing heavily, Felix tried to sit up straight again. With effort; his muscles were tense and still spasmed randomly, as if electricity still coursed through his system, flooding his synapses and disrupting all signals his body received. Shaking heavily he pushed himself up to his knees and let himself fall back to sit and come to his senses.

He suspected he wasn’t just shaking because of that brutal and uncontrolled shock just now. He was completely soaked, icy chunks still sticking to his shoulders, his shirt clinging to him all wet from writhing about in the snow.

Shivering, he pulled his knees up to his chest, thinking he should close the door to at least shut out new waves of icy gales that chilled him to the bone, before he remembered that going near there was bad.

Owen had left the door open. On purpose, probably. A cruel reminder that freedom was very close and very tempting, but still so far away. At the moment Felix didn’t even want to think about running out there. The shock had served its purpose well, he never wanted to go through that again. He wasn’t sure Owen was actually going to adjust the device. No scratch that. He was pretty sure he wasn’t going to. Why be satisfied with a little warning zap when the thing could easily just bring you to your knees and stop you in your tracks.

He carefully scooted closer to the door, inch by inch to see what would happen. He was too scared the device would go off if he even neared the doorstep. He hooked his foot around the door and kicked it shut, a sigh of relief following.

Owen still wasn’t back, so after waiting for a bit and catching his breath, he pushed himself off the floor and made his way upstairs, away from the cold. One of the doors was open and he peeked around the corner. Owen looked up.

“Ah, come in, dear. This’ll be your lodging from now on.” He smiled. “Unless you misbehave, of course. There’s always other accommodation two floors down.”

The room was quite empty except for a bed and a closet. The bed, Felix immediately saw, was pushed against the outer wall right across the door. Owen caught him staring.

“You want to test if you can lie down there?”

Felix bristled. No, no he did not, thank you very much. Being close to the perimeter of the shock collar was not a good thing. He probably never would be able to relax or sleep there. What if he rolled over, too close to the wall and the darned thing just zapped him right awake. Catching his scream, stealing his voice, unable to warn Owen, who would be fast asleep across the hallway and he’d just die of—

“Well I’m not going to move it for you,” Owen’s voice broke through his worries. “And I doubt you’re getting on there by free will so let’s get this over with.” He took a step towards Felix who backed away immediately.

“No, please,” he stammered.

“Don’t be a baby, it probably won’t do anything. Besides…” Owen showed him a little remote. “If it activates I’ll immediately turn it off. Pinky promise.”

Knowing that his word couldn’t be trusted in the slightest Felix still didn’t feel like getting on there but he also didn’t feel like testing Owen’s patience. Taking a deep breath, he walked towards the bed, promptly sat down – eyes squeezed shut – and scooted back against the wall. Not even a tingle. He slowly let out the breath he was holding.

“Good. Glad we sorted that out.” Owen slipped his gadget back in his pocket. “Now, I’ve got some clean clothes for you here in the closet. You’ll be responsible for keeping them clean. There’s a laundry room down the hall for you to use. I expect you to take care of yourself. Even if you can’t bloody walk.”

Felix, still bathing in the relief that he didn’t get zapped, snapped back to attention. “Right,” he quickly said.

“Like I said, you’re allowed to roam around. I have an office, downstairs, which is out of bounds unless I invite you in. Don’t bother my guests. Don’t try to steal anything or hide anything from me. I think you’re familiar what will happen if you break any rules.”

Felix didn’t want to make any promises so he just gave a slight nod. If he agreed here now Owen would totally hold it against him later.

“I’ll leave you to get changed then.”

The door snapped close and Felix sprang off the bed. He looked around the closet; mostly boring grey shirts and some joggers. How thoughtful. He spotted another door and found it led to a small bathroom. There even was a bath. Okay, not bad. Especially better than sleeping in that damp basement. Now he could see the sun that was still out and it felt good to finally have a bit of an idea of the time.

He pulled his cold wet shirt off him and let it fall to the bathroom tiles with a wet flop. Owen’s warning to clean up after himself echoed in the back of his mind, so he bend over with a sigh to pick it up again and hang it out to dry.

The dry clothes didn’t do much to remedy the cold that now soaked right into his bones. He eyed the bathtub and while it was very tempting to just run a hot bath, he also really didn’t want to get anywhere near water with this unstable bomb strapped to his neck.

So instead, he let himself fall onto the bed and buried himself under the duvet. Letting himself drift off and hoping he’d still wake up.

-

Tag list, hi all: @firewheeesky @myfriendcallsmeasickwoman19 @hold-back-on-the-comfort @whumpawink @painsandconfusion

[tenth-sentence]

It was generally extremely cold and uncomfortable there.

"Brighter than a Thousand Suns: A Personal History of the Atomic Scientists" - Robert Jungk, translated by James Cleugh

[woosh-floosh]

Thanks to the people who commented on my last sticker post, I am definitely setting too high of a standard for homemade stickers. Honestly, it's a bit silly to expect everyone buying an obviously handcut sticker to then hold it at a 70-degree angle under a lamp and think, "Hmm, there's a small dimple in the laminate... shobby quality, I must write a bad review."

Anyways I printed a new batch a stickers and only 1 out of 12 is B grade based on my new standard!

[noisytenant]

"hot allostatic load" is very much a work worth reading and discussing, and it's shameful how the harrowing experiences described can be found unchanged these 9 years later. it highlights so many intersecting dynamics and consequences of the transmisogyny, ableism, and racism that are perpetuated within ostensibly "inclusive" spaces.

that being said, i feel like it still kind of reifies the victim/aggressor dichotomy and maintains "abuser" as a meaningful ontological class of malicious actors, and i'm skeptical of that part of the argument.

mostly i feel like messaging is mixed; between nominal challenges to the moral hierarchy and innocence/guilt paradigm, there are a number of lines that assert the innocence and good intent of victims, while taking as fact the malice and wanton destruction of aggressors.

lines like "abusers don't spend years disabled by those thoughts [of being sociopathic, crazy, or abusive] because they don't care if they hurt other people" have me raising my eyebrows. i feel that this line of thinking leaps over all of the little social and mental tricks that enable abuse--the minimization of consequences, the willful and selective ignorance of power dynamics, the magical thinking of intent trumping impact.

it has been my experience that a great deal of abusive individuals think they care deeply about hurting others, and do at times ruminate about the morality of their actions, but inevitably fall back on various justifications to maintain their behavior. i worry that the reassurance, essentially, "an abusive person wouldn't worry about being abusive" can terminate necessary reflection and growth.

it is an important part of the healing process to first realize that it wasn't all your fault, and that you are not uniquely evil or irredeemable. but i think it's an important part of being a political actor to challenge framing issues in terms of blame and ontological badness entirely. sometimes you are the one who fucked up, badly, and the question of handling that situation is fundamental to anticarceral politics.

the essay seems to believe in a type of genuinely "bad person", but it offers little in the way of how to identify them and what to do about them. how does one distinguish confused and righteous people from "pathological liars"? how does one distinguish the airing of personal grievances privately and without a major callout from the weaponization of whisper networks and silent ostracization? what punishments would be appropriate for the "bad people" who avoid them through privilege? if someone fucks up, what does it look like for them to actually atone and change things for the better?

i agree with the concluding sentiment that "there is no kind of justice that resembles hundreds of people ganging up on one person, or tangible lifelong damage being inflicted on someone for failing the rituals of purification that have no connection to real life". we should carefully consider what tools and methods we use in a quest for a more just world, because some of them have grave consequences. but this alone feels imprecise when paired with the whole of the article's wobbly stance on victimhood and abuse, and general lack of suggestions for how marginalized people can be heard and believed.

i guess my feeling is that i'd like to view the piece as a snapshot of this kind of abuse and its effects on all levels, but i personally think many of the core arguments are better discussed elsewhere. it just isn't very precise and honed, and i think a sharp argument is required to cut through the muck of cognitive dissonance and self-justification that perpetuate the abuses we're trying to stop.

anyways, that's just my two cents. hope it resonates with others; if you see the article differently, i'd love to hear a different perspective on it too. i worry if i'm misreading somehow, or overly critical due to unexamined bias. but i can't really know if that's the case if i don't share my thoughts with anyone else. so, here i am with my thoughts. Heart

[mustangs-flames]

Writing a certain long oneshot part for the htb au at the moment and the ending of it... this song is very relevant.

[akkivee]

from a gold shachihoko to a copper shachihoko huh 🤔

[skullchicken]

Sparrows kept plucking my romaine salad and I remembered that birds get spooked by big eyes (or images of big eyes).

So now Maromi from Paranoia Agent is guarding my crops O^O

(the plushie was gifted to me years ago by @yondamoegi)