Franz Kafka, 1912

Franz Kafka, 1912

Franz Kafka, 1912

More Posts from Icannotspelldefinnnately and Others

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…I almost killed myself

I put on my sunglasses, to hide my swollen eyes, over my tears. I cried all my makeup off. Went inside to have a milkshake. I don’t know why. I wanted something to drink as I figured out what I would do. I got a soda and a milkshake. Medium. The cashier looked at me and with a line around the corner of the counter he rushed away from the counter “Hold on “ he yelled to a coworker.

I filled my soda and went back and saw him looking all over. I go up and he gets close and says “I made it a large”.

That was seriously enough for me not to do it. His kindness. Someone went out of their way and as I went back in my car to cry I realized I could muster through a few other days. A few more weeks. Then I came down from that panicky high of anxiety, depression, and pain. I finished my shake. And it was enough time to let me feel better. I… I’m alive. I’ll make it through.

Try and be nice today. Tomorrow. Something as much as a smile. It helped so much.

Thank you man at McDonalds.

The milkshake saved my life

I just read that Donald Trump and his circus took down a website called reproductiverights.gov

This was a website to help women learn about their reproductive rights in the US and to find health care.

This is absolutely disgusting so I’ll share in this post some resources in case you need them:

Contraception and Birth Control Resources
https://www.nichd.nih.gov/
Links to websites of groups that study or provide information about contraception and birth control.
Resources for Accessing Abortion Care
Reproductive Freedom for All
Browse resources for accessing abortion care: find providers, get information and advice, access abortion funds, legal advocacy and more.
PLAN C: Abortion pills by mail in every state
plancpills.org
Plan C is an information resource for self-managed, at-home abortion with pills. Learn how people in the U.S. are accessing abortion pill op
Home - National Abortion Federation
National Abortion Federation
The National Abortion Federation (NAF) is the professional association of abortion providers in North America. We believe that women should
Repro Legal Helpline
Call our legal Helpline if you or someone you know has been arrested or is being investigated for an abortion or pregnancy loss.
Center for Reproductive Rights
Resources Archives - Center for Reproductive Rights

https://www.plannedparenthood.org/learn


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If Damian grew up and went into politics

I see people give the Superman writers flack for putting him in ‘Metropolis’ having moved from ‘Smallville’ but I really feel like we need to be looking closer at Batman, defender of ‘Gotham’

lol Alistair and Rhys out swinging swords at ghosts and looking like a couple of nutters to the untrained eye. Do you still have the fic or maybe it was an ask about chonklet deluxe being held by a horrifying wraith and screaming like the damned?

A little bit! And it was initially an ask. This fic is brand spanking new because I forgot how cool of an idea that shitpost actually was if I took it seriously. Please be warned that this fic is gory and involves child endangerment, a bastardization of mythological creatures and just general violence. Also here on ao3.

Rural Lancashire, 1590

Dusk draped heavily over the world as the last light of day darkened into a thick grey. Arthur had ducked out the door to catch the midwife as she crossed his property on foot. If he was quick, he could often walk her as far as the edge of the village and consult her on whatever it was Alfred had done now. Teething, his first words, the seizures that had gripped him last spring, croup, the rare occasion Alfred was ever colicky. She was a steely woman with hair to match and indulged him at least, giving the best advice she had after decades of bringing children into the world. He'd hardly paid attention to the labours of women, and children so often died that there was rarely time to pay them any heed as they went from the cradle to the casket so quickly.

He had turned back to make his usual beeline for the house, pushing past and between the square hedges and sprawling kitchen garden. Some of the stronger-smelling herbs must have been finally in season; there was a reek Arthur couldn't quite identify. He had hardly cleared the fence when he heard Alfred's usual cry, demanding attention. The baby was a social thing, as personable as Rhys or Brighid and twice as bold about his want of company. He didn't like waking alone, wrapped up cozy in the cradle or otherwise.

Another sound, shrill and high. This one sent a spike of anxiety through Arthur's spine. He paused for the shortest moment. Then he was moving. That was not the cry of a baby who was lonely or wanted to be picked up. That was a terrified howl from his boy. He shot into the house, through the atrium, up the stairs, and into the nursery. Heaving, he flung open the heavy oak door. The smell was there again. The figure of a woman stood in relief against the low fire, Alfred cradled in her arms and screaming. For a stupid, foolish moment, he hoped it was the scullery girl he had told to mind the baby should he begin crying. But the smell. He took a step forward. At a new angle, he could see rotten eyes staring at his son, a cheek missing to decay and teeth gleaming through the gap.

"Baby." Came the garbled sound from long-dead vocal cords.

"You do not belong in this realm," Arthur said, cooly gesturing for her to hand him the child. His guts churned, bile in his throat. The revenants were often as confused as they were disgusting, pulling themselves out of whatever corner they had died and remained undiscovered. "Give me the child."

The Revenant turned to him. "Mine."

"You do not belong in this realm," Arthur said again, gesturing to Alfred again. He was losing patience with fear, the ceaseless screaming from Alfred turning into a hopeless, frightened sob. She tilted her head, and it fell limply to her shoulder, tendons snapping on the other side. She lifted one hand to push it back onto her neck, and he saw her hand for a moment in the light. Her fingers were torn freshly away. Oh, good Christ, this one had crawled out of her grave as they sometimes did when there was an infant's ceaseless crying above them. But Alfred had never stepped foot in the churchyard, and it was nearly a mile and a half away in the village.

"Rhys!" Arthur screamed, praying to god his brother was in the house and not out in the lambing pens.

The woman transferred Alfred almost tenderly to one arm and lunged at him, hand outstretched and her rotting jaw open. It couldn't close and Arthur couldn't hit her; Alfred was a heavy child and would fall to the floor as a leaden weight, and his soft little body would smash. Arthur was cold. Alfred was still crying.

"Give me my fucking son." He lunged, snatching at her arm. A layer of grey slime came away, and he retched even as he got fingers wrapped into the swaddling nearest Alfred's feet. He was suddenly wrestling a corpse, each of them struggling to get their hands on the blanket. One of Alfred's arms had slipped free, and he flailed, a fresh rolling scream emitting from his tiny scarlet face. Arthur had never seen him so flushed. He tried to shove her away and kick at the rotting creature, but more of something wet disintegrated from her legs. His hand was suddenly slick with gore and a piece of her fell to the floor with a putrid plop, unseen under the half-rotten chemise she had been buried in. She almost looked to grin at him and pulled Alfred closer.

"Let go!" He commanded, trying to get a purchase, but his hands were too slippery. He lunged after her as she retreated towards the door. "Let him go!"

Then a sword was through her belly. Something degassed like fetid blacksmith's bellows. Arthur's senses nearly abandoned him at the smell, but his hands closed around Alfred and tugged him to his chest, and he shot back against the wall, as far from the thing as he could get.

"I know. I'm sorry." He gasped, a clean hand cradling Alfred's head. "I'm so sorry."

The creature groaned and collapsed to the floor on its knees, struggling as its guts dissolved around the blade. Rhys stood behind her, still in his lambing clothes and boots, mother's leaf-bladed sword in his hands. He lifted it, and her head fell from her shoulders. The rotting eyes followed Arthur across the room. He watched as Rhys found one of the seams of her skull with the tip, plunged the sword in, twisted like he was splitting a log, and this time, she lay still, dismembered.

"Are you all right?" Rhys said, stepping over the body to look at him. He approached close enough to pull the blanket away to look at Alfred. Arthur tried to meet his brother's eyes. "Arthur?"

He couldn't. He could only close his eyes, hold Alfred tighter and collapse down the wall. Alfred pressed as tight as he dared against his sternum, and Arthur tried to breathe. Alfred's crying had softened, terror fading to a heartbreaking relief, and Arthur kissed his head. To close. Too fucking close.

"He's fine," Rhys said; his voice was much softer this time. "You're both fine, I promise."


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Greek Oracles: Oh, great Ares, will there be victory in our battle tomorrow? Egyptian Oracles: Yo so I want to buy this cow from my neighbour but he’s kind of a skeev, is the cow okay?

[Image: Tweet By Emily Mullin (@EmilyLMullin) And Tweet By Isobelle Winter (@IsobelleWinter), Both About
[Image: Tweet By Emily Mullin (@EmilyLMullin) And Tweet By Isobelle Winter (@IsobelleWinter), Both About

[Image: Tweet by Emily Mullin (@EmilyLMullin) and tweet by Isobelle Winter (@IsobelleWinter), both about the dangers of Facebook’s new preventative health screening tool. Images have been modified for visual ease but information has not been changed.]

Something to know about Facebook’s new “screening tool,” and advice/info that can most certainly be used outside of this specific situation.

For spoonies, the biggest deal is how this data, if leaked, could affect you in professional and insurance spheres.

Here’s Emily’s full thread, which discusses the details of the tool, and here’s Isobelle’s full thread, which extrapolates on specific dangers.

In the end? It’s another data grab. Data is worth money; don’t give yours away, especially not to Facebook.

Friendly reminder that this blog is pro-choice and if you don’t think a woman should have full control of her own body, then kindly unfollow me right now and go to hell

I'm just wondering here

obligatory please reblog for sample size, I really want to know who is the most popular


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icannotspelldefinnnately - I like Men like coffee And women like Tea
I like Men like coffee And women like Tea

I only drink hot chocolate.I don’t actually like coffee or tea.I’m Ace.It might have been faster to start with that.

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