If anybody tries to isolate you, cut you off from other friends, or convince you that they are the only person you can trust or who can be capable of loving you, run extremely far away in the other direction
While transition is a process that takes place over time, it is so important that you love yourself for who you are in the present. You are lovable now; there's only harm in believing otherwise or deferring your happiness until you feel like you've "earned" it
You can perform a double jump to reach high places by pressing the jump button while in the air
hi, if you'll do me a little favor and spread my little survey around i'd be grateful. i'm interviewing trans women on how they feel about dressing, as i want my final project at school, a five-look runway collection to be released next year, to be considerate of transfeminine bodies. so i'd appreciate your response! (i can release the responses at the end if y'all are curious.) and if you're not a trans woman, please do reblog this to help it spread round to someone who is. ^_^
He was strong like tungsten and brilliant like silver glinting beneath the sunlight. Moreover, the man was powerful, as powerful as the astermite that ran so much of both the vampiric and human world.
Vanitas was not delicate.
He was not fragile, like porcelain. Did not shatter the way that a ceramic plate did upon hitting the floor. Most certainly was never vulnerable to the elements like copper that oxidized due to exposure to air.
And logically, Noé knew this. Knew that his partner could withstand harsh treatment, knew that he could survive cruel words and even crueler blows. Knew that, despite being a human, Vanitas was strong. Like tempered steel.
It was hard to remember that, though, when the blue eyed man dropped like a stone to the ground. When the swing of the cursebearer's fist made a solid crunch! upon contact with the man's face. When it was his human who lay defenseless at the ill vampire's feet.
Noé saw red. It was with frightening speed that he appeared before his partner's body, raining strikes on the attacker. He snarled, pushing the vampire far enough back that Vanitas would have room to recover. In the back of his mind, he registered quiet groans, a sure sign that the doctor was still kicking. And thank the gods for that.
"Noé!" said vampire quickly comprehended Vanitas' request before the man uttered it, and he swept the cursebearer's legs out from beneath her. He turned, pinning the struggling woman to the ground so that the inverse operation could be started. As usual, the shining light of the Book of Vanitas enchanted him, and Noé listened to his partner's smug declaration of the vampire's true name. He rose, extending a hand to Vanitas' patient.
The white haired vampire gave a brief explanation as to what happened to the newly cured one, keeping an eye on his partner through his peripherals. The man never much liked speaking to his patients when he had finished treating them, and Noé suspected that many of the vampires Vanitas had helped before they met never knew his name. Well, that was the doctor's own choice, albeit a strange one, and it would irritate him if he mettled.
"C'mon, mon cher," Vanitas, ever impatient, called over his shoulder. "I don't want to be here a minute longer."
"Coming, coming," Noé soothed, taking a couple larger steps to catch up to his partner's stride. He couldn't blame the man for wanting to leave - he wasn't exactly welcome in Altus Paris after the stunt he pulled with Lord Ruthven.
As they walked towards the border, the vampire couldn't help but let his violet eyes roam over the human's body. Every time he looked, the contradictions that were ingrained in Vanitas seemed all the more notable.
Noé understood well that humans were weaker than vampires. In fact, when he had first witnessed Vanitas fight, he had been impressed by the man's fortitude. The longer he spent with the doctor, though, the more he wondered just how Vanitas functioned the way he did.
For one thing, the human was very slight. His figure was slim, and he often did not eat. In fact, Noé could probably count the amount of times he had seen Vanitas eat on one hand. While that didn't mean that the man was not dining alone or with others, for that was very much possible, he thought that he should've definitely seen this more. So that was strike one against his health.
Strike two was Vanitas' refusal to let others help him when he was injured. At the moment, his gait was slightly impaired by a limp from the previous fight and bruises had begun to bloom across his cheek. There was a scrape across his forehead that was slowly closing, and the glove that typically concealed his left hand in was torn, which revealed more cuts up his forearm. Noé knew that Vanitas healed quicker than most humans due to the blood of the vampire of the blue moon in him but that didn't mean that he didn't need to care for himself.
That led to strike three. Overall, Noé had concluded that Vanitas was bad at caring for himself. Rejecting help, ignoring food, not sleeping (another thing on Noé's list of Vanitas' irresponsibility), all things that would further lead to the human's demise. And it was not as if accepting such things was absurd. Why could the man not allow someone to tend to him? For being such a brilliant doctor (though he was uncertain as to the validity of the other's credentials regarding human doctoring), Vanitas was certainly thick-headed when it came to his own needs.
And that led Noé back to his earlier thoughts.
Vanitas was not fragile. But, sometimes, it was hard to think otherwise. Especially when he had just seen his partner crumple like a sack of flour. The vampire withheld a sigh. They would talk about this back at the hotel.
~
"Mon cher," Noé turned, noting an edge in the undertones of Vanitas' voice. He hoped they weren't about to fight, but he also wouldn't be shocked if his roommate had come to pick a bone with him. The doctor had disappeared to the rooftop when the two had returned to their current residence, likely done so to escape any concern the vampire might express. Noé had grown use to the routine after the first month or so when he had made the mistake of hovering around the man. Vanitas was skittish like a horse when it came to his wellbeing, and his partner's fawning had overwhelmed him. "Look at me."
Violet eyes rose to meeting striking blue ones, taking in the dark shadows painting the undereye. There was wariness in that gaze, a silent threat that he could and would run if even one wrong move was made. Vanitas approached the white-haired man's bed and set his medical bag at the foot of it much to Noé's surprise. He noted the other man's state of undress, night clothes covering his thin body. He didn't think he had seen his partner in fewer layers than his just his overcoat off.
"Like what you see?" Vanitas was quiet, the tease in his remark not quite genuine. He was tense, and, if Noé was allowed to note, seemed uncertain. It was a strange look on the human. He didn't know if he liked it.
"Vanitas...?" He trailed off, also keeping his voice low. He thought he saw trace amounts of vulnerability in those blue eyes. The younger man twisted strands of inky hair between fingers. He remained silent a few moments before shoving his medical bag into Noé's arms. The vampire stared at the bundle, startled. He raised a questioning gaze to his partner.
"Oh, don't look at me like that," Vanitas scowled, though there was no real malice in it. "You're always pestering me about my health despite it being outside your grasp. If you're so damn insistent, I suppose you can deal with it yourself."
The man glared at the floor, a slight pout on his face. Noé let out a chuckle, a soft smile adorning his own. Vanitas flicked his glance towards the vampire, a faux annoyance creeping into his expression.
"Thank you, Vanitas," he said and began to work.
Noé was not nearly as skilled as Vanitas when it came to this. His fingers tangled the bandages and his nose scrunched at the smell of the rubbing alcohol. He tenderly swabbed at the scratch on the other's forehead and arm. The vampire went about it slowly, methodically, mildly afraid that he would somehow mess it up and make things worse. He kept his touch gentle.
Vanitas' reaction was predictable, but not something Noé had the foresight of considering.
In a second, the cloth was snatched from him by pale hands that immediately doused it in more disinfectant then scrubbed harshly at the cuts. Noé raised his eyes to take in the ire on Vanitas' face as the man hissed at the sting of the hydrogen peroxide. His ministrations were much rougher and faster, yet he still moved about with a grace that the vampire lacked. A particularly sharp inhale noted the treatment of a gash on his shoulder. The wound was no longer bleeding but still needed to be cleaned. Noé grabbed the doctor's wrists, halting him.
"Let me do this," he said, seriously. The look he leveled on the shorter man roused a glare from him. "You said you would let me do this."
"And you proceeded to treat me like porcelain, Noé," Vanitas sneered. There was contempt in that retort. "Je ne suis pas verre, mon cher. Besides, I have no need for your pity."
"It's not pity, Vanitas," the vampire insisted, frustration creeping into his tone. "Treating you nicely isn't done out of pity, Vanitas. Don't you believe that you deserve some gentleness too?"
Dammit, Noé thought, biting his lip. That was sure to push the man to flee, at least for the night. Maybe most of tomorrow as well. Seriously, dammit. The human stared at him, stunned almost. As if that wasn't something Noé would say. He sighed. Well, he hadn't bolted yet, so maybe he could reason with him a little bit.
Carefully, the white-haired man took the cloth from fisted hands. He scooted back on the bed to give him some space.
"Vanitas," Noé said, studying the smaller one carefully. "Kindness isn't born out of pity. The way I tend to your injuries is not born out of pity.
"Et je sais. Je sais que tu n'es pas verre. Je sais.
"Please listen to me, Vanitas. I do not pity you."
The silence was tense. Noé wondered if Vanitas had listened to anything he had just said. He wondered if the human would still run away.
A hand suddenly grabbed the soft material of his nightshirt and yanked him forward. Noé stared into Vanitas' eyes, his own wide with surprise. Something raw and vulnerable rested on his face, and the vampire knew his words had reached him to some extent. Noé let himself be observed and taken apart and put back together by Vanitas' gaze. Stayed quiet as he was examined intently. Then, supposedly satisfied with his analysis, the doctor let him go. Handed him a roll of bandages.
"Je ne suis pas verre," Vanitas muttered.
"Oui, mon chéri," Noé smiled and thanked whatever beings might exist that his stubborn human was finally accepting his help.
So, my French is not great, and I apologize for any and all grammatical, cultural, and spelling errors I made. I am in the process of learning the language, so unfortunately, what I wrote will likely contain inaccuracies. However, I hope you enjoyed this oneshot!
Translations:
"Mon cher" = "My dear"
"Je ne suis pas verre, mon cher" = "I'm not glass, my dear"
"Et je sais" = "And I know"
"Je sais que tu n'es pas verre" = "I know that you're not glass"
"Oui, mon chéri" = "Yes, my darling"
Some days, Dazai Osamu wished he was never born. Some days, Dazai Osamu wished he was dead. And some days, Dazai Osamu was okay with living.
This was not one of those days, though.
Dazai Osamu did have to admit that his days seemed to be getting brighter. No longer was he constantly hounded by the sins of his past nor was the tune of the suicide song playing in his mind. His desire to commit double suicide was slowly lessening (though his hunt for a beautiful maiden had yet to cease), and he did not find the arms of the river quite as comforting as before. Finally, to everyone's surprise, he had even started coming to work on time. Whether he was productive during the day was still up for debate, though. All in all, Dazai was seeing improvement.
It scared him.
Running, lying, fighting, that was all in his blood. And even if it was not there naturally, he had spent enough time being injected with violence and the need to die for his entire life. He was a criminal, a demon sent straight from hell, a monstrous sinner (and a lost child attempting to navigate adulthood). Dazai Osamu had no right to live, no right to happiness.
And today, these thoughts had driven him from work and family, from some foreign brightness back into the embrace of a not-so yet all too familiar darkness.
The alley he strode through brought him little peace, tortured screams echoing in his mind. Blood dripped from every nook and cranny, and if he ran his hand over the wall he would witness that non-existent crimson staining his palm. He saw bullets embed themselves into innocent, clean flesh. The air reeked of death, a friend Dazai could never leave behind.
So lost in thought, the brunette man missed a piece of a shared past and found himself stumbling into the wall. The brick was rough against his palms, and the uneven asphalt bit into his knees through his pants. He scowled, turning to catch sight of an accessory he had always hated.
It was that dumb slug's hat.
Dazai pushed himself against the wall, glaring at the pork pie as if it had personally offended him. The ugly, little hat stared right back at him, growing more and more unsightly as the silence stretched on. Disgust worked its way onto his face, memories of a certain red-haired man resurfacing. Damn that bastard. Why'd he have to leave that nasty thing right where he was going to be? What was the world scheming today? Well, whatever it was, he didn't like it. Still, something pulled him to his ex-partner's topper.
The world of yesterdays rushed over him, and he was left victim to the recollection of the days following Odasaku's death.
Mori Ogai was too much. Too violent, too deceitful, too cruel, etcetera, etcetera, the list went on infinitely. Well, not infinitely seeing as there were far too few words to describe that horrendous man. Osamu could see that clearly now. His escape to the 'good' side would soon be upon him, and he wished to take no remnants of his mafia days with him. Nothing other than the mark of death, of course. It was not as if he could wash himself of that branding so easily. What a pain fleeing the Port Mafia was going to be.
Snoring interrupted his thoughts, and his gaze was directed toward the slightly noisy man resting in his bed. It had been a long, hard week, and Dazai hadn't had it in him to kick out the slug, a change he hoped the other would never notice. Indeed, he had been getting softer and softer on his fiery partner as the months had passed, and when his rusty haired friend had left him, Osamu had been able to express his grief to him.
Nakahara Chuya continued to slumber peacefully, a rare treat for him.
A silent sigh slipped through his nose, and he resisted touching the man's calloused palms with his own, both drenched in unseen blood that was not stoppered at the wrist. He wondered, briefly, at telling Chuya, at convincing the other to come with him, at searching for forgiveness together. Death was also a heavy weight on the ginger's mind (Osamu knew this well enough after seeing him drink once a mission was finished). It could be nice, just the two of them, fulfilling Odasaku's wishes. Saving orphans, guiding the lost, all things that that strange man had been so good at, so devoted to. And maybe, just maybe, they could both be rescued, they could both find salvation.
Dazai Osamu was not an idealist, though.
Nakahara Chuya, his partner in crime, was just that. His partner in crime. He was bound to the Port Mafia, swathed in chains of brainwashed loyalty and threatened with praise. He was the organization's dog, always at Mori's beck and call, always eager to prove himself. The red-head's chance at freedom had been stolen from him years ago and, ironically, that damned thief was Dazai Osamu himself, the demon prodigy preparing to desert.
Osamu caught sight of an especially hideous item resting on the nightstand. The hat, a gift of Mori's, tempted the arsonist within him. He was already planning on feeding his coat to the flame, why not toss the slug's accessory too? He glowered at the pork pie, yet another bond that tethered Chuya to the organization. The stupid thing meant too much to his partner, a representation of the mafia claiming to be his home. And that dumb boy had accepted that dumb assertation. Dazai hated him for his choice, but it was not as if he could do anything.
He was, after all, the one at fault.
Nakahara Chuya knew something was off. The air of the penthouse was just barely saturated with something musty, something familiar. The smudge on the left most window seemed a little larger than it had been yesterday, and the softness of the carpet had been disturbed. The red head narrowed his eyes, pinpointing the wooden coffee table. Someone had been in his house. Chuya crept forward on silent feet, that eerie red glow, which signified his power, surrounding his lean figure. Carefully, he rounded the white couch and focused on the item left on the glossy surface.
His hat sat innocently before him, no sign of another's touch to be seen. A relieved sigh exited from his lips; he had been looking for the damn thing since sun down of yesterday. Chuya lifted the pork pie, eager to feel that comfortable weight on the crown of his head yet again when a small slip of paper fluttered out from the hat's opening. Curious, he picked up the note and opened it to read.
"For the dumb slug. I thought you couldn't go anywhere without your brain. -D.O."
I don't care what nationality you are. US, UK, French, German, anyone in Europe, please do me the grandest of favours and spread this around. Steal the link, make your own post, I don't care; just get it to the eyes of your viewers because if they're Canadian, I need your help.
This petition ends May 26th 2023:
What is this about?
"Whereas:
The world is becoming increasingly hostile to transgender and nonbinary individuals;
Transgender and nonbinary people's rights to live as themselves are being restricted and removed in many places;
This includes the so-called "Western democracies" which have historically been presumed safe;
More than a dozen American states have enacted or are considering legislation eliminating or criminalizing gender-affirming care; and
Canada has prided itself on being an inclusive, tolerant, and welcoming society for everyone regardless of gender identity or gender expression.
We, the undersigned, residents of Canada, call upon the House of Commons to extend to transgender and nonbinary people the right to claim asylum in Canada by reason of eliminationist laws in their home countries, whatever country that may be."
It's better to give people an exit plan, and just hope they won't need it, then to do nothing and assume they'll be fine. Help us keep making Canada a positive place for everyone. I hope you'll sign if you're Canadian, and if you're not, I hope you'll help us make some positivity by sharing this around.
(Edit: A bullet point in the petitions description has been removed from this post, but remains on the petition. It's removal is due to misinformation around the UK's Equality Act 2010 only providing protection for those seeking sexual reassignment surgery. And while the Equality Act 2010 does explicitly state this, the Equality and Human Rights Commission has released an Equality Act 2019 Code of Practice document that specifies all transgender people are protected under the protected characteristic of "gender reassignment" regardless of desire to undergo the specific surgery initially identified in the Equality Act 2010 document. There has been, as of this editation, no direct quote or statement of plans to remove these protections from discrimination to the public.
I'd also like to add that there do exist protections already for 2SLGBTQIA+ folk to seek asylum in Canada, and the MP who made this petition has apparently been made aware of this, however, due to certain restrictions on that act, Canada currently lists the US as a safe country for 2SLGBTQIA+ folk because as long as there is one safe place(state, province, or territory) in the country for queer folk, the ability to seek asylum is denied. This petition clearly states a need to make a more specific clarification regarding this and open up assylum if any discriminatory laws pop up at all within a country, no matter if it's regional laws, or country wide. Specifying this because there's been a reblog or two calling this petition pointless and because I'm already clarifying UK law misinformation, might as well tackle misinformation from my own country as well. ♡)
Inumaki Toge feels guilty. He feels guilty because despite being in love with his classmate for a year and being his boyfriend for seven months now, there has been no first kiss.
There has been no first kiss yet, but not because either of them don’t want it. In fact, for the past month or so, Okkotsu Yuta, powerful, special-grade sorcerer, has continuously tried to kiss Toge. Each time, though, the light-haired male has dodged. It is either him slightly turning his head so that those soft lips land on his cheek, changing the subject, or simply looking away. And it’s not like Toge doesn’t want to be kissed (he does actually, desperately), it’s just that he is afraid.
He is afraid and confused because why would anyone want to kiss him? Why would anyone want to kiss a mouth that has caused so much harm? Because, like Yuta, Inumaki has hurt people too. And while it might not seem so, he feels the guilt weigh on him. Toge is just better at hiding it than Yuta. He turns this weight into stamina. Toge is human, though, and so his stamina fails him at times.
In all honesty, his relationship with Yuta feels like a fever dream. Maybe, somewhere, he is dying, blood spilling from his shredded throat as a merciless curse prepares itself for a feast. Toge hopes that’s not the case.
He really just wants to tell him, or perhaps have Yuta ask him what’s wrong, but the dark-haired male is too kind, too modest to push.
“Hey, Toge, what are you thinking about?” His boyfriend’s worried voice tears him from his thoughts.
“Okaka,” the young man replies, shaking his head to further indicate that nothing is wrong. Okkotsu frowns a bit. He is aware that this is a lie because Toge’s ears always twitch a little when he lies.
“Okay, then. How are you feeling,” he asks, deep blue gazing into upset violet.
“Shake,” Toge hesitates before answering. Guilt once again swarms his body. He doesn’t like lying.
Okkotsu reaches out to his boyfriend. He feels like Toge is on an island, his secrets a violent sea drowning any attempt to get close to him. Yuta knows for a fact that people tend to give up when something is not easy, when something doesn’t work out the first time. But he will never give up on Toge. In the Jujutsu world, life is short and uncertain with death looming in the distance. Yuta wants to spend this life with Toge, and he will do whatever it takes.
A firm yet gentle hand tugs the zipper of Inumaki’s high collar down. Blue eyes are awarded with pink lips and the snake and fangs seal. Okkotsu tenderly opens his boyfriend’s mouth. Toge’s marked tongue greets him. The cursed-speech user himself is flustered and nervous. After all, they haven’t even kissed before and here Yuta is, easily pulling his mouth open, tucking his fingers inside. It’s honestly kind of hot.
Besides that thought though, Toge is panicking. He does not understand what his handsome partner is doing, and while he trusts him, he is still startled.
“So pretty,” Yuta mumbles, staring at Inumaki’s mouth. Owner of said mouth flushes immediately.
“Okaka,” he tries to say, but Okkotsu gently takes hold of his tongue.
“You are beautiful, Toge. These marks do not define you and neither do any of the bad memories that come from them. It is simply another part of you, another part that is strong and determined. I love you, Toge,” Yuta states. His voice is firm, making it clear that there is no room for argument.
Okkotsu Yuta and Inumaki Toge share their first kiss then and there. It is a kiss of passion, but it is also a kiss of understanding. It is beautiful and strong, just like the two of them. As they part, a warm tear slides down the light-haired male’s face. It is a tear of happiness, a tear of relief, and a tear of hope.
“Oh, no, I made you cry!”
“Okaka!” But this one is said with joy before Toge pulls Yuta into another kiss.
Special birthday post for Inumaki Toge. I hope you enjoyed!
THROUGH A RAPIST’S EYES” (PLS TAKE TIME TO READ THIS. It may save a life, It may save your life.)
An Article from Neena Susan Thomas
“Through a rapist’s eyes. A group of rapists and date rapists in prison were interview…ed on what they look for in a potential victim and here are some interesting facts:
1] The first thing men look for in a potential victim is hairstyle. They are most likely to go after a woman with a ponytail, bun! , braid, or other hairstyle that can easily be grabbed. They are also likely to go after a woman with long hair. Women with short hair are not common targets.
2] The second thing men look for is clothing. They will look for women who’s clothing is easy to remove quickly. Many of them carry scissors around to cut clothing.
3] They also look for women using their cell phone, searching through their purse or doing other activities while walking because they are off guard and can be easily overpowered.
4] The number one place women are abducted from / attacked at is grocery store parking lots.
5] Number two is office parking lots/garages.
6] Number three is public restrooms.
7] The thing about these men is that they are looking to grab a woman and quickly move her to a second location where they don’t have to worry about getting caught.
8] If you put up any kind of a fight at all, they get discouraged because it only takes a minute or two for them to realize that going after you isn’t worth it because it will be time-consuming.
9] These men said they would not pick on women who have umbrellas,or other similar objects that can be used from a distance, in their hands.
10] Keys are not a deterrent because you have to get really close to the attacker to use them as a weapon. So, the idea is to convince these guys you’re not worth it.
POINTS THAT WE SHOULD REMEMBER:
1] If someone is following behind you on a street or in a garage or with you in an elevator or stairwell, look them in the face and ask them a question, like what time is it, or make general small talk: can’t believe it is so cold out here, we’re in for a bad winter. Now that you’ve seen their faces and could identify them in a line- up, you lose appeal as a target.
2] If someone is coming toward you, hold out your hands in front of you and yell Stop or Stay back! Most of the rapists this man talked to said they’d leave a woman alone if she yelled or showed that she would not be afraid to fight back. Again, they are looking for an EASY target.
3] If you carry pepper spray (this instructor was a huge advocate of it and carries it with him wherever he goes,) yelling I HAVE PEPPER SPRAY and holding it out will be a deterrent.
4] If someone grabs you, you can’t beat them with strength but you can do it by outsmarting them. If you are grabbed around the waist from behind, pinch the attacker either under the arm between the elbow and armpit or in the upper inner thigh – HARD. One woman in a class this guy taught told him she used the underarm pinch on a guy who was trying to date rape her and was so upset she broke through the skin and tore out muscle strands the guy needed stitches. Try pinching yourself in those places as hard as you can stand it; it really hurts.
5] After the initial hit, always go for the groin. I know from a particularly unfortunate experience that if you slap a guy’s parts it is extremely painful. You might think that you’ll anger the guy and make him want to hurt you more, but the thing these rapists told our instructor is that they want a woman who will not cause him a lot of trouble. Start causing trouble, and he’s out of there.
6] When the guy puts his hands up to you, grab his first two fingers and bend them back as far as possible with as much pressure pushing down on them as possible. The instructor did it to me without using much pressure, and I ended up on my knees and both knuckles cracked audibly.
7] Of course the things we always hear still apply. Always be aware of your surroundings, take someone with you if you can and if you see any odd behavior, don’t dismiss it, go with your instincts. You may feel little silly at the time, but you’d feel much worse if the guy really was trouble.
FINALLY, PLEASE REMEMBER THESE AS WELL ….
1. Tip from Tae Kwon Do: The elbow is the strongest point on your body. If you are close enough to use it, do it.
2. Learned this from a tourist guide to New Orleans : if a robber asks for your wallet and/or purse, DO NOT HAND IT TO HIM. Toss it away from you…. chances are that he is more interested in your wallet and/or purse than you and he will go for the wallet/purse. RUN LIKE MAD IN THE OTHER DIRECTION!
3. If you are ever thrown into the trunk of a car: Kick out the back tail lights and stick your arm out the hole and start waving like crazy. The driver won’t see you but everybody else will. This has saved lives.
4. Women have a tendency to get into their cars after shopping,eating, working, etc., and just sit (doing their checkbook, or making a list, etc. DON’T DO THIS! The predator will be watching you, and this is the perfect opportunity for him to get in on the passenger side,put a gun to your head, and tell you where to go. AS SOON AS YOU CLOSE the DOORS , LEAVE.
5. A few notes about getting into your car in a parking lot, or parking garage:
a. Be aware: look around your car as someone may be hiding at the passenger side , peek into your car, inside the passenger side floor, and in the back seat. ( DO THIS TOO BEFORE RIDING A TAXI CAB) .
b. If you are parked next to a big van, enter your car from the passenger door. Most serial killers attack their victims by pulling them into their vans while the women are attempting to get into their cars.
c. Look at the car parked on the driver’s side of your vehicle, and the passenger side. If a male is sitting alone in the seat nearest your car, you may want to walk back into the mall, or work, and get a guard/policeman to walk you back out. IT IS ALWAYS BETTER TO BE SAFE THAN SORRY. (And better paranoid than dead.)
6. ALWAYS take the elevator instead of the stairs. (Stairwells are horrible places to be alone and the perfect crime spot).
7. If the predator has a gun and you are not under his control, ALWAYS RUN! The predator will only hit you (a running target) 4 in 100 times; And even then, it most likely WILL NOT be a vital organ. RUN!
8. As women, we are always trying to be sympathetic: STOP IT! It may get you raped, or killed. Ted Bundy, the serial killer, was a good-looking, well educated man, who ALWAYS played on the sympathies of unsuspecting women. He walked with a cane, or a limp, and often asked “for help” into his vehicle or with his vehicle, which is when he abducted his next victim.
Send this to any woman you know that may need to be reminded that the world we live in has a lot of crazies in it and it’s better safe than sorry.
If u have compassion reblog this post.
‘Helping hands are better than Praying Lips’ – give us your helping hand.
REBLOG THIS AND LET EVERY GIRL KNOW
AT LEAST PEOPLE WILL KNOW WHATS GOING ON IN THIS WORLD.
So please reblog this….Your one reblog can Help to spread this information.
THIS COULD ACTUALLY SAVE A LIFE.”
Welcome to the Dark Side @sunshine-burnt - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
jacobvanloon
kianamaiart
pixelskylines
germansingergirl
izzy806
baratheonpilled
dededos
