#trigger warning here

[spiritsprout]

Take screen shots and notes before this is deleted/heavily redacted...

https://www.justice.gov/multimedia/Court%20Records/Giuffre%20v.%20Maxwell,%20No.%20115-cv-07433%20(S.D.N.Y.%202015)/1332-16.pdf?fbclid=IwY2xjawO1NUNleHRuA2FlbQIxMQBzcnRjBmFwcF9pZAwzNTA2ODU1MzE3MjgAAR51RSq3p5y-TY2fNfW-KqOJibuUTWwkJ8ZW_gb9ulInHhjL8VJc6aRAGOHpAw_aem_8KP55vwi3CxnCupsExjpnA

[charlie-is-three-rats]

whats a cute name for a belated christmas party

context my friend had a really shitty christmas so im planning them a little mini faux -christmad-day celebration with some of our other friends

i think its gonna become like a tradition though so i kinda need a better name for it

[catthatquacks]

＊

My muse has been acting distant and depressed lately... Send a ＊ for your muse to experience the haunting voices in my muse’s head, without my muse knowing.

At first. There are no words attached. Flashes of things; terrible, horrible things flickered by. It was difficult to filter what was a memory, and what was his own imagination. Things he didn’t tell Rose. Things.... Things he didn’t even begin to know how to describe. Though they were flashes, they weren’t for the faint of heart. Each one coming with it’s own sound it’s own voice. 

(It gets a bit triggery from here. Just a warning for below.)

His family flying away. Their silhouettes growing smaller. 

            No! Come back! Don’t leave me alone!

The cultists, using him in their ritual, leaving him to die. 

             It hurts... It hurts! What did I do to deserve this?

The madman that skin him alive. The gruesome scene of seeing his own skin peeling off of him. 

                   Anabelle, run!

Rose, hurt, and laying in a hospital bed. 

          Please... Don’t leave me...

A young baby Dasu, crying loudly and clung to his father. A look of desperation on his tiny face. 

                     Papa! Papa don’t! Don’t!

The many... Many suicide attempts. 

        They’re better off without me.      I only cause em trouble.  

                       DUCK STOP!

                                        THINK OF YOUR BOYS!

Voss lying in a hospital bed, many tubes and machines surrounding him. He looked ill, barely breathing. 

      Don’t take him... I can’t do this... Not again. 

Then the voices came. Ones with no images attached. Only swells of color. 

I shouldn’t be alive. 

         I was abandoned for a reason... right? 

             Fuck!                  I can’t do anything right. 

Just a burden. 

               I’m weak. Small. 

More voices. Other voices Rose had certainly heard before. People Duck had known.

    You just lay around and do nothing!  

                     Ｉ ＨＡＴＥ ＹＯＵ ＰＡＰＡ！

ᵀˢᵏ. ᴴᵉ’ˢ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵃ ˢᵗᵘᵖⁱᵈ ᶜᵃᵗ.

                              𝘐𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴, 𝘦𝘩 𝘤𝘢𝘵?

    PAPA!! PAPA DON’T!!

           𝘠𝘦𝘢𝘩. 𝘞𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘴. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘯'𝘵 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘵.

    Worthless. 

           Stupid. 

                      Weak. 

I shouldn’t be alive...

[anxious-bisexualll]

fucking fuck 

I keep thinking about going to the store and seeing if they have blades and buying them because its winter now and that means I can cut wherever I want and no one will see but I also work at this store and if anyone sees me and asks questions it will be awkward also I told a couple of my co-workers that I have severe depression and anxiety and now I'm so terrified of what they think and I hope they won't tell my boss or manager or anyone else fuck I just really want to slice my skin off its so itchy and i keep digging my nails in my thighs and writs and pinching my skin to get it to stop like some other form of pain will distract me from wanting the stinging and the burn from cutting my thighs or writs but its not the same and its not enough it doesn't feel right i can't see it won't be there for me to remember later shit fuck god dammit fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuuuck 

[killapunk]

found some tweezers and i've been plucking hair out of my legs all morning

ahhhhh