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cereusblue: unnameablethings: dragonsateyourtoast: redporkpadthai: dragonsateyourtoast: otherwindow: otherwindow: This is how the golden age of piracy ended. The first mermaid to get tattoos :) “we didn’t know any better,” the crewman says, and swallows, presenting the chest to the captain. “what do we do now?” “kill it,” the captain says, but the ice is melting in his eyes. “we can’t,” the first mate says desperately, praying she won’t have to fight her captain on this. “we can’t. we - i won’t. we won’t.” “i know.” x “daddy,” she says, floating in a tub of seawater in the hold, “daddy, la-la, la-la-la.” her voice rings like bells. her accent is strange; her mouth isn’t made for human words. it mesmerises even the hardiest amongst them and she wasn’t even trying. the crew has taken to diving for shellfish near the shorelines for her; she loves them, splitting the shells apart with strength seen in no human toddler, slurping down the slimy molluscs inside and laughing, all plump brown cheeks and needle-sharp teeth. she sometimes splashes them for fun with her smooth, rubbery brown tail. even when they get soaked they laugh. they love her. “daddy,” she calls again, and he can hear the worry in her voice. the storm rocking the ship is harsh and uncaring, and if they go down, she would be the only survivor. “don’t worry,” he says, and goes over, sitting next to the tub. the first mate, leaning against the wall, pretends not to notice as he quietly begins to sing. x “father,” she says, one day, as she leans on the edge of the dock and the captain sits next to her, “why am I here?” “your mother abandoned you,” he says, as he always has. “we found you adrift, and couldn’t bear to leave you there.” she picks at the salt-soaked boards, uncertain. her hair is pulled back in a fluffy black puff, the white linen holding it slipping almost over one of her dark eyes. one of her first tattoos, a many-limbed kraken, curls over her right shoulder and down her arm, delicate tendrils wrapped around her calloused fingertips. “alright,” she says. x “why am I really here?” she asks the first mate, watching the sun set over the water in streaks of liquid metal that pooled in the troughs of the waves and glittered on the seafoam. “we didn’t know any better,” the first mate says, staring into the water. “we didn’t know- we didn’t know anything. we didn’t understand why she fought so viciously to guard her treasure. we could not know she protected something a thousand times more precious than the purest gold.” she wants to be furious, but she can’t. she already knew the answer, from reading the guilt in her father’s eyes and the empty space in her own history. and she can’t hate her family. “it’s alright,” she says. “i do have a family, anyways. i don’t think i would have liked my other life near as much.” x her kraken grows, spreading its tendrils over her torso and arms. she grows too, too large to come on board the ship without being hauled up in a boat from the water. she sings when the storms come and swims before the ship to guide it to safety. she fights off more than one beast of the seas, and gathers a set of scars across her back that she bears with pride. “i don’t mind,” she says, when the captain fusses over her, “now i match all of you.” the first time their ship is threatened, really threatened, is by another fleet. a friend turned enemy of the first mate. “we shouldn’t fight him,” she says, peering through the spyglass. “why not?” the mermaid asks. “he’ll win,” the first mate says. the mermaid tips her head sideways. Her eyes, dark as the deep waters, gleam in the noon light. “are you sure?” she asks. x the enemy fleet surrenders after the flagship is sunk in the night, the anchor ripped off the ship and the planks torn off the hull. the surviving crew, wild-eyed and delirious, whimper and say a sea serpent came from the water and attacked them, say it was longer than the boat and crushed it in its coils. the first mate hears this and has to hide her laughter. the captain apologizes to his daughter for doubting her. “don’t worry,” she says, with a bright laugh, “it was fun.” x the second time, they are pushed by a storm into a royal fleet. they can’t possibly fight them, and they don’t have the time to escape. “let me up,” the mermaid urges, surfacing starboard and shouting to the crew. “bring me up, quickly, quickly.” they lower the boat and she piles her sinous form into it, and uses her claws to help the crew pull her up. once on the deck she flops out of the boat and makes her way over to the bow. the crew tries to help but she’s so heavy they can barely lift parts of her. she crawls up out in front of the rail and wraps her long webbed tail around the prow. the figurehead has served them well so far but they need more right now. she wraps herself around the figurehead and raises her body up into the wind takes a breath of the stinging salt air and sings. the storm carries her voice on its front to the royal navy. they are enchanted, so stunned by her song that they drop the rigging ropes and let the tillers drift. the pirates sail through the center of the fleet, trailing the storm behind them, and by the time the fleet has managed to regain its senses they are buried in wind and rain and the pirates are gone. x she declines guns. instead she carries a harpoon and its launcher, and uses them to board enemy ships, hauling her massive form out of the water to coil on the deck and dispatch enemies with ruthless efficiency. her family is feared across all the sea. x “you know we are dying,” the captain says, looking down at her. she floats next to the ship, so massive she could hold it in her arms. her eyes are wise. “i know,” she says, “i can feel it coming.” the first mate stands next to the captain. she never had a lover or a child, and neither did he, but to the mermaid they are her parents. she will always love her daughter. the tattoos are graven in dark swirls across the mermaid’s deep brown skin and the flesh of her tail, even spiraling onto the spiked webbing on her spine and face. her hair is still tied back, this time with a sail that could not be patched one last time. “we love you,” the first mate says simply, looking down. her own tightly coiled black hair falls in to her face; she shakes the locs out of the way and smiles through her tears. the captain pretends he isnt crying either. “i love you too,” the mermaid says, and reached up to pull the ship down just a bit, just to hold them one last time. “guard the ship,” the captain says. “you always have but you know they’re lost without you.” “without you,” the mermaid corrects, with a shrug that makes waves. “what will we do?” “i don’t know,” the captain says. “but you’ll help them, won’t you?” “of course i will,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “i will always protect my family.” x the captain and the first mate are gone. the ship has a new captain, young and fearless - of the things she can afford to disregard. she fears and loves the ocean, as all captains do. she does not fear the royal fleet. and she does not fear the mermaid. “you know, i heard stories about you when i was a little girl,” she says, trailing her fingers in the water next to the dock. the mermaid stares at her with one eye the size of a dinner table. “is that so?” she hums, smirking with teeth sharper than the swords of the entire navy. “they said you could sink an entire fleet and that you had skin tougher than dragon scales,” the new captain says, grinning right back at the monster who could eat her without a moment’s hesitation. “i always thought they were telling tall tales.” “and now?” “they were right,” the new captain says. “how did they ever befriend you?” the mermaid smiles, fully this time, her dark eyes gleaming under the white linen sail. “they didn’t know any better.” She protects her family. Hi everybody! Guess what’s being posted on AO3 now at the following link! https://archiveofourown.org/works/22498384/chapters/53760817 That’s right! Here you go. I’ll be uploading it in some chunks, because I want to make sure I have everything I wanted edited cleanly finished, but follow the story there! HEY GUYS GUESS WHATS BACK ON THE DASHBOARD AND BETTER THAN EVER : cereusblue: unnameablethings: dragonsateyourtoast: redporkpadthai: dragonsateyourtoast: otherwindow: otherwindow: This is how the golden age of piracy ended. The first mermaid to get tattoos :) “we didn’t know any better,” the crewman says, and swallows, presenting the chest to the captain. “what do we do now?” “kill it,” the captain says, but the ice is melting in his eyes. “we can’t,” the first mate says desperately, praying she won’t have to fight her captain on this. “we can’t. we - i won’t. we won’t.” “i know.” x “daddy,” she says, floating in a tub of seawater in the hold, “daddy, la-la, la-la-la.” her voice rings like bells. her accent is strange; her mouth isn’t made for human words. it mesmerises even the hardiest amongst them and she wasn’t even trying. the crew has taken to diving for shellfish near the shorelines for her; she loves them, splitting the shells apart with strength seen in no human toddler, slurping down the slimy molluscs inside and laughing, all plump brown cheeks and needle-sharp teeth. she sometimes splashes them for fun with her smooth, rubbery brown tail. even when they get soaked they laugh. they love her. “daddy,” she calls again, and he can hear the worry in her voice. the storm rocking the ship is harsh and uncaring, and if they go down, she would be the only survivor. “don’t worry,” he says, and goes over, sitting next to the tub. the first mate, leaning against the wall, pretends not to notice as he quietly begins to sing. x “father,” she says, one day, as she leans on the edge of the dock and the captain sits next to her, “why am I here?” “your mother abandoned you,” he says, as he always has. “we found you adrift, and couldn’t bear to leave you there.” she picks at the salt-soaked boards, uncertain. her hair is pulled back in a fluffy black puff, the white linen holding it slipping almost over one of her dark eyes. one of her first tattoos, a many-limbed kraken, curls over her right shoulder and down her arm, delicate tendrils wrapped around her calloused fingertips. “alright,” she says. x “why am I really here?” she asks the first mate, watching the sun set over the water in streaks of liquid metal that pooled in the troughs of the waves and glittered on the seafoam. “we didn’t know any better,” the first mate says, staring into the water. “we didn’t know- we didn’t know anything. we didn’t understand why she fought so viciously to guard her treasure. we could not know she protected something a thousand times more precious than the purest gold.” she wants to be furious, but she can’t. she already knew the answer, from reading the guilt in her father’s eyes and the empty space in her own history. and she can’t hate her family. “it’s alright,” she says. “i do have a family, anyways. i don’t think i would have liked my other life near as much.” x her kraken grows, spreading its tendrils over her torso and arms. she grows too, too large to come on board the ship without being hauled up in a boat from the water. she sings when the storms come and swims before the ship to guide it to safety. she fights off more than one beast of the seas, and gathers a set of scars across her back that she bears with pride. “i don’t mind,” she says, when the captain fusses over her, “now i match all of you.” the first time their ship is threatened, really threatened, is by another fleet. a friend turned enemy of the first mate. “we shouldn’t fight him,” she says, peering through the spyglass. “why not?” the mermaid asks. “he’ll win,” the first mate says. the mermaid tips her head sideways. Her eyes, dark as the deep waters, gleam in the noon light. “are you sure?” she asks. x the enemy fleet surrenders after the flagship is sunk in the night, the anchor ripped off the ship and the planks torn off the hull. the surviving crew, wild-eyed and delirious, whimper and say a sea serpent came from the water and attacked them, say it was longer than the boat and crushed it in its coils. the first mate hears this and has to hide her laughter. the captain apologizes to his daughter for doubting her. “don’t worry,” she says, with a bright laugh, “it was fun.” x the second time, they are pushed by a storm into a royal fleet. they can’t possibly fight them, and they don’t have the time to escape. “let me up,” the mermaid urges, surfacing starboard and shouting to the crew. “bring me up, quickly, quickly.” they lower the boat and she piles her sinous form into it, and uses her claws to help the crew pull her up. once on the deck she flops out of the boat and makes her way over to the bow. the crew tries to help but she’s so heavy they can barely lift parts of her. she crawls up out in front of the rail and wraps her long webbed tail around the prow. the figurehead has served them well so far but they need more right now. she wraps herself around the figurehead and raises her body up into the wind takes a breath of the stinging salt air and sings. the storm carries her voice on its front to the royal navy. they are enchanted, so stunned by her song that they drop the rigging ropes and let the tillers drift. the pirates sail through the center of the fleet, trailing the storm behind them, and by the time the fleet has managed to regain its senses they are buried in wind and rain and the pirates are gone. x she declines guns. instead she carries a harpoon and its launcher, and uses them to board enemy ships, hauling her massive form out of the water to coil on the deck and dispatch enemies with ruthless efficiency. her family is feared across all the sea. x “you know we are dying,” the captain says, looking down at her. she floats next to the ship, so massive she could hold it in her arms. her eyes are wise. “i know,” she says, “i can feel it coming.” the first mate stands next to the captain. she never had a lover or a child, and neither did he, but to the mermaid they are her parents. she will always love her daughter. the tattoos are graven in dark swirls across the mermaid’s deep brown skin and the flesh of her tail, even spiraling onto the spiked webbing on her spine and face. her hair is still tied back, this time with a sail that could not be patched one last time. “we love you,” the first mate says simply, looking down. her own tightly coiled black hair falls in to her face; she shakes the locs out of the way and smiles through her tears. the captain pretends he isnt crying either. “i love you too,” the mermaid says, and reached up to pull the ship down just a bit, just to hold them one last time. “guard the ship,” the captain says. “you always have but you know they’re lost without you.” “without you,” the mermaid corrects, with a shrug that makes waves. “what will we do?” “i don’t know,” the captain says. “but you’ll help them, won’t you?” “of course i will,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “i will always protect my family.” x the captain and the first mate are gone. the ship has a new captain, young and fearless - of the things she can afford to disregard. she fears and loves the ocean, as all captains do. she does not fear the royal fleet. and she does not fear the mermaid. “you know, i heard stories about you when i was a little girl,” she says, trailing her fingers in the water next to the dock. the mermaid stares at her with one eye the size of a dinner table. “is that so?” she hums, smirking with teeth sharper than the swords of the entire navy. “they said you could sink an entire fleet and that you had skin tougher than dragon scales,” the new captain says, grinning right back at the monster who could eat her without a moment’s hesitation. “i always thought they were telling tall tales.” “and now?” “they were right,” the new captain says. “how did they ever befriend you?” the mermaid smiles, fully this time, her dark eyes gleaming under the white linen sail. “they didn’t know any better.” She protects her family. Hi everybody! Guess what’s being posted on AO3 now at the following link! https://archiveofourown.org/works/22498384/chapters/53760817 That’s right! Here you go. I’ll be uploading it in some chunks, because I want to make sure I have everything I wanted edited cleanly finished, but follow the story there! HEY GUYS GUESS WHATS BACK ON THE DASHBOARD AND BETTER THAN EVER

cereusblue: unnameablethings: dragonsateyourtoast: redporkpadthai: dragonsateyourtoast: otherwindow: otherwindow: This is how the g...

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stellarsteele: Here is a preview of my first book ever! I am planning on releasing the full book very soon. Let me know what you think :))). Prologue            My name is Eva. I had one boyfriend in high school who turned out to be a disappointment. After breaking up with him, he kept sending me creepy messages on social media. I did what any girl would do—I blocked him.            I am anxious for another romantic experience with a different outcome. I thought college would be my chance, but this pandemic swooped in and fucked everything up. My ideal is a cute guy who is sensitive and provides me with unconditional love. I want to have deep conversations with him too. Physical appearance isn’t my greatest asset: I am not ugly, but not gorgeous. Sometimes guys at parties tell me that I’m charming and a good listener though. I would much rather be kissed than told these things, but I’ve learned to work with what I have. I must admit, I’m hard on myself. My roommate Emma has a lot of hookups and I always feel below her. She still complains about the absence of dateable guys which makes me feel better about my lack of success. I should mention my parents because I am going to be stuck with them for a while. They are strange as fuck. My dad is a classic nerd and my mother was wild in college. I’m pretty sure that she did cocaine at a party in college once. I honestly couldn’t tell you how they ended up together. I have no idea what to expect from this quarantine. I’m going to try to be productive and stay positive. Maybe, something good will come out of this. I’ve already improved my personal hygiene—it’s hard to stay super hygienic in college. I’ve been eating a lot healthier too since college cafeterias are no longer part of my daily routine. I also have a good excuse for being single. I’m going to take this time to find out more about myself. Maybe a boyfriend isn’t what I need right now. Although, if a cute guy were to enter my life right now, I am not sure I would be able to refuse him. Even if he got me infected… Day 1            My quarantine hasn’t been too bad so far. I started off by cleaning my room: I found a lot of dust under my bed and on my windows that desperately needed attention. My closet was a disaster too. I found a ton of clothes that haven’t fit me since middle school.            After, I went for a run in my neighborhood and discovered that my neighbors were completely disregarding the social distancing protocol. I didn’t heckle them or anything for disobeying the rules, but I was disappointed. You really discover who people really are when the world goes to shit.            I laid on my bed for a while and ended up reading an entire book. I haven’t been committed to a book like that since the Harry Potter books. I was lowkey impressed with myself. After, I fell asleep for a couple hours. I have a feeling that naps are going to be a big part of my daily routine even if I try to resist them.            Next, I checked my school email and discovered that all my classes are moving to a virtual platform called Zoom. I have no idea how virtual chemistry labs are going to work. Hopefully, my professor will save everyone the stress and give us all an A.            I checked my Instagram feed and ended up making a clever post. I got the most likes I have ever gotten which was satisfying. I am going to try to be more regular with my social media posts. Now, I’m sitting at my desk listening to The Weeknd’s new album. I love his angelic voice and atmospheric beats. I’m trying to come up with a list of goals for myself for quarantine: read a book; try to spend more time with my parents; do yoga 3 times per week; post regularly on social media; get laid. This is probably influenced by The Weeknd’s erotic music, but sex does sound nice right now.            It sounds so nice that I grab my dildo out of my drawer and take my pants off. I slide it slowly into my vagina at first and gradually increase the speed. I imagine my ideal guy on top of me, penetrating me and whispering dirty things in my ear. I am getting so wet. It is surprising how responsive I am to this little toy. Using my other hand, I start massaging my clit. Now, I’m forcefully moving the dildo in and out of my pussy. In my mind, my ideal man is caressing my back and clapping my cheeks hard as fuck. I start moaning and eventually I come all over my bed sheets. The initial pleasure from the orgasm quickly wears off. Instead of feeling blissful, I feel ashamed of myself for not finding a man since high school. The loneliness is suffocating. I feel myself sinking into my bed, drowning in my tears slowly. Everyone seems to have found someone except for me. : stellarsteele: Here is a preview of my first book ever! I am planning on releasing the full book very soon. Let me know what you think :))). Prologue            My name is Eva. I had one boyfriend in high school who turned out to be a disappointment. After breaking up with him, he kept sending me creepy messages on social media. I did what any girl would do—I blocked him.            I am anxious for another romantic experience with a different outcome. I thought college would be my chance, but this pandemic swooped in and fucked everything up. My ideal is a cute guy who is sensitive and provides me with unconditional love. I want to have deep conversations with him too. Physical appearance isn’t my greatest asset: I am not ugly, but not gorgeous. Sometimes guys at parties tell me that I’m charming and a good listener though. I would much rather be kissed than told these things, but I’ve learned to work with what I have. I must admit, I’m hard on myself. My roommate Emma has a lot of hookups and I always feel below her. She still complains about the absence of dateable guys which makes me feel better about my lack of success. I should mention my parents because I am going to be stuck with them for a while. They are strange as fuck. My dad is a classic nerd and my mother was wild in college. I’m pretty sure that she did cocaine at a party in college once. I honestly couldn’t tell you how they ended up together. I have no idea what to expect from this quarantine. I’m going to try to be productive and stay positive. Maybe, something good will come out of this. I’ve already improved my personal hygiene—it’s hard to stay super hygienic in college. I’ve been eating a lot healthier too since college cafeterias are no longer part of my daily routine. I also have a good excuse for being single. I’m going to take this time to find out more about myself. Maybe a boyfriend isn’t what I need right now. Although, if a cute guy were to enter my life right now, I am not sure I would be able to refuse him. Even if he got me infected… Day 1            My quarantine hasn’t been too bad so far. I started off by cleaning my room: I found a lot of dust under my bed and on my windows that desperately needed attention. My closet was a disaster too. I found a ton of clothes that haven’t fit me since middle school.            After, I went for a run in my neighborhood and discovered that my neighbors were completely disregarding the social distancing protocol. I didn’t heckle them or anything for disobeying the rules, but I was disappointed. You really discover who people really are when the world goes to shit.            I laid on my bed for a while and ended up reading an entire book. I haven’t been committed to a book like that since the Harry Potter books. I was lowkey impressed with myself. After, I fell asleep for a couple hours. I have a feeling that naps are going to be a big part of my daily routine even if I try to resist them.            Next, I checked my school email and discovered that all my classes are moving to a virtual platform called Zoom. I have no idea how virtual chemistry labs are going to work. Hopefully, my professor will save everyone the stress and give us all an A.            I checked my Instagram feed and ended up making a clever post. I got the most likes I have ever gotten which was satisfying. I am going to try to be more regular with my social media posts. Now, I’m sitting at my desk listening to The Weeknd’s new album. I love his angelic voice and atmospheric beats. I’m trying to come up with a list of goals for myself for quarantine: read a book; try to spend more time with my parents; do yoga 3 times per week; post regularly on social media; get laid. This is probably influenced by The Weeknd’s erotic music, but sex does sound nice right now.            It sounds so nice that I grab my dildo out of my drawer and take my pants off. I slide it slowly into my vagina at first and gradually increase the speed. I imagine my ideal guy on top of me, penetrating me and whispering dirty things in my ear. I am getting so wet. It is surprising how responsive I am to this little toy. Using my other hand, I start massaging my clit. Now, I’m forcefully moving the dildo in and out of my pussy. In my mind, my ideal man is caressing my back and clapping my cheeks hard as fuck. I start moaning and eventually I come all over my bed sheets. The initial pleasure from the orgasm quickly wears off. Instead of feeling blissful, I feel ashamed of myself for not finding a man since high school. The loneliness is suffocating. I feel myself sinking into my bed, drowning in my tears slowly. Everyone seems to have found someone except for me.
Save
stellarsteele: Here is a preview of my first book ever! I am planning on releasing the full book very soon. Let me know what you think :))). Prologue            My name is Eva. I had one boyfriend in high school who turned out to be a disappointment. After breaking up with him, he kept sending me creepy messages on social media. I did what any girl would do—I blocked him.            I am anxious for another romantic experience with a different outcome. I thought college would be my chance, but this pandemic swooped in and fucked everything up. My ideal is a cute guy who is sensitive and provides me with unconditional love. I want to have deep conversations with him too. Physical appearance isn’t my greatest asset: I am not ugly, but not gorgeous. Sometimes guys at parties tell me that I’m charming and a good listener though. I would much rather be kissed than told these things, but I’ve learned to work with what I have. I must admit, I’m hard on myself. My roommate Emma has a lot of hookups and I always feel below her. She still complains about the absence of dateable guys which makes me feel better about my lack of success. I should mention my parents because I am going to be stuck with them for a while. They are strange as fuck. My dad is a classic nerd and my mother was wild in college. I’m pretty sure that she did cocaine at a party in college once. I honestly couldn’t tell you how they ended up together. I have no idea what to expect from this quarantine. I’m going to try to be productive and stay positive. Maybe, something good will come out of this. I’ve already improved my personal hygiene—it’s hard to stay super hygienic in college. I’ve been eating a lot healthier too since college cafeterias are no longer part of my daily routine. I also have a good excuse for being single. I’m going to take this time to find out more about myself. Maybe a boyfriend isn’t what I need right now. Although, if a cute guy were to enter my life right now, I am not sure I would be able to refuse him. Even if he got me infected… Day 1            My quarantine hasn’t been too bad so far. I started off by cleaning my room: I found a lot of dust under my bed and on my windows that desperately needed attention. My closet was a disaster too. I found a ton of clothes that haven’t fit me since middle school.            After, I went for a run in my neighborhood and discovered that my neighbors were completely disregarding the social distancing protocol. I didn’t heckle them or anything for disobeying the rules, but I was disappointed. You really discover who people really are when the world goes to shit.            I laid on my bed for a while and ended up reading an entire book. I haven’t been committed to a book like that since the Harry Potter books. I was lowkey impressed with myself. After, I fell asleep for a couple hours. I have a feeling that naps are going to be a big part of my daily routine even if I try to resist them.            Next, I checked my school email and discovered that all my classes are moving to a virtual platform called Zoom. I have no idea how virtual chemistry labs are going to work. Hopefully, my professor will save everyone the stress and give us all an A.            I checked my Instagram feed and ended up making a clever post. I got the most likes I have ever gotten which was satisfying. I am going to try to be more regular with my social media posts. Now, I’m sitting at my desk listening to The Weeknd’s new album. I love his angelic voice and atmospheric beats. I’m trying to come up with a list of goals for myself for quarantine: read a book; try to spend more time with my parents; do yoga 3 times per week; post regularly on social media; get laid. This is probably influenced by The Weeknd’s erotic music, but sex does sound nice right now.            It sounds so nice that I grab my dildo out of my drawer and take my pants off. I slide it slowly into my vagina at first and gradually increase the speed. I imagine my ideal guy on top of me, penetrating me and whispering dirty things in my ear. I am getting so wet. It is surprising how responsive I am to this little toy. Using my other hand, I start massaging my clit. Now, I’m forcefully moving the dildo in and out of my pussy. In my mind, my ideal man is caressing my back and clapping my cheeks hard as fuck. I start moaning and eventually I come all over my bed sheets. The initial pleasure from the orgasm quickly wears off. Instead of feeling blissful, I feel ashamed of myself for not finding a man since high school. The loneliness is suffocating. I feel myself sinking into my bed, drowning in my tears slowly. Everyone seems to have found someone except for me. : stellarsteele: Here is a preview of my first book ever! I am planning on releasing the full book very soon. Let me know what you think :))). Prologue            My name is Eva. I had one boyfriend in high school who turned out to be a disappointment. After breaking up with him, he kept sending me creepy messages on social media. I did what any girl would do—I blocked him.            I am anxious for another romantic experience with a different outcome. I thought college would be my chance, but this pandemic swooped in and fucked everything up. My ideal is a cute guy who is sensitive and provides me with unconditional love. I want to have deep conversations with him too. Physical appearance isn’t my greatest asset: I am not ugly, but not gorgeous. Sometimes guys at parties tell me that I’m charming and a good listener though. I would much rather be kissed than told these things, but I’ve learned to work with what I have. I must admit, I’m hard on myself. My roommate Emma has a lot of hookups and I always feel below her. She still complains about the absence of dateable guys which makes me feel better about my lack of success. I should mention my parents because I am going to be stuck with them for a while. They are strange as fuck. My dad is a classic nerd and my mother was wild in college. I’m pretty sure that she did cocaine at a party in college once. I honestly couldn’t tell you how they ended up together. I have no idea what to expect from this quarantine. I’m going to try to be productive and stay positive. Maybe, something good will come out of this. I’ve already improved my personal hygiene—it’s hard to stay super hygienic in college. I’ve been eating a lot healthier too since college cafeterias are no longer part of my daily routine. I also have a good excuse for being single. I’m going to take this time to find out more about myself. Maybe a boyfriend isn’t what I need right now. Although, if a cute guy were to enter my life right now, I am not sure I would be able to refuse him. Even if he got me infected… Day 1            My quarantine hasn’t been too bad so far. I started off by cleaning my room: I found a lot of dust under my bed and on my windows that desperately needed attention. My closet was a disaster too. I found a ton of clothes that haven’t fit me since middle school.            After, I went for a run in my neighborhood and discovered that my neighbors were completely disregarding the social distancing protocol. I didn’t heckle them or anything for disobeying the rules, but I was disappointed. You really discover who people really are when the world goes to shit.            I laid on my bed for a while and ended up reading an entire book. I haven’t been committed to a book like that since the Harry Potter books. I was lowkey impressed with myself. After, I fell asleep for a couple hours. I have a feeling that naps are going to be a big part of my daily routine even if I try to resist them.            Next, I checked my school email and discovered that all my classes are moving to a virtual platform called Zoom. I have no idea how virtual chemistry labs are going to work. Hopefully, my professor will save everyone the stress and give us all an A.            I checked my Instagram feed and ended up making a clever post. I got the most likes I have ever gotten which was satisfying. I am going to try to be more regular with my social media posts. Now, I’m sitting at my desk listening to The Weeknd’s new album. I love his angelic voice and atmospheric beats. I’m trying to come up with a list of goals for myself for quarantine: read a book; try to spend more time with my parents; do yoga 3 times per week; post regularly on social media; get laid. This is probably influenced by The Weeknd’s erotic music, but sex does sound nice right now.            It sounds so nice that I grab my dildo out of my drawer and take my pants off. I slide it slowly into my vagina at first and gradually increase the speed. I imagine my ideal guy on top of me, penetrating me and whispering dirty things in my ear. I am getting so wet. It is surprising how responsive I am to this little toy. Using my other hand, I start massaging my clit. Now, I’m forcefully moving the dildo in and out of my pussy. In my mind, my ideal man is caressing my back and clapping my cheeks hard as fuck. I start moaning and eventually I come all over my bed sheets. The initial pleasure from the orgasm quickly wears off. Instead of feeling blissful, I feel ashamed of myself for not finding a man since high school. The loneliness is suffocating. I feel myself sinking into my bed, drowning in my tears slowly. Everyone seems to have found someone except for me.
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stellarsteele: Here is a preview of my first book ever! I am planning on releasing the full book very soon. Let me know what you think :))). Prologue            My name is Eva. I had one boyfriend in high school who turned out to be a disappointment. After breaking up with him, he kept sending me creepy messages on social media. I did what any girl would do—I blocked him.            I am anxious for another romantic experience with a different outcome. I thought college would be my chance, but this pandemic swooped in and fucked everything up. My ideal is a cute guy who is sensitive and provides me with unconditional love. I want to have deep conversations with him too. Physical appearance isn’t my greatest asset: I am not ugly, but not gorgeous. Sometimes guys at parties tell me that I’m charming and a good listener though. I would much rather be kissed than told these things, but I’ve learned to work with what I have. I must admit, I’m hard on myself. My roommate Emma has a lot of hookups and I always feel below her. She still complains about the absence of dateable guys which makes me feel better about my lack of success. I should mention my parents because I am going to be stuck with them for a while. They are strange as fuck. My dad is a classic nerd and my mother was wild in college. I’m pretty sure that she did cocaine at a party in college once. I honestly couldn’t tell you how they ended up together. I have no idea what to expect from this quarantine. I’m going to try to be productive and stay positive. Maybe, something good will come out of this. I’ve already improved my personal hygiene—it’s hard to stay super hygienic in college. I’ve been eating a lot healthier too since college cafeterias are no longer part of my daily routine. I also have a good excuse for being single. I’m going to take this time to find out more about myself. Maybe a boyfriend isn’t what I need right now. Although, if a cute guy were to enter my life right now, I am not sure I would be able to refuse him. Even if he got me infected… Day 1            My quarantine hasn’t been too bad so far. I started off by cleaning my room: I found a lot of dust under my bed and on my windows that desperately needed attention. My closet was a disaster too. I found a ton of clothes that haven’t fit me since middle school.            After, I went for a run in my neighborhood and discovered that my neighbors were completely disregarding the social distancing protocol. I didn’t heckle them or anything for disobeying the rules, but I was disappointed. You really discover who people really are when the world goes to shit.            I laid on my bed for a while and ended up reading an entire book. I haven’t been committed to a book like that since the Harry Potter books. I was lowkey impressed with myself. After, I fell asleep for a couple hours. I have a feeling that naps are going to be a big part of my daily routine even if I try to resist them.            Next, I checked my school email and discovered that all my classes are moving to a virtual platform called Zoom. I have no idea how virtual chemistry labs are going to work. Hopefully, my professor will save everyone the stress and give us all an A.            I checked my Instagram feed and ended up making a clever post. I got the most likes I have ever gotten which was satisfying. I am going to try to be more regular with my social media posts. Now, I’m sitting at my desk listening to The Weeknd’s new album. I love his angelic voice and atmospheric beats. I’m trying to come up with a list of goals for myself for quarantine: read a book; try to spend more time with my parents; do yoga 3 times per week; post regularly on social media; get laid. This is probably influenced by The Weeknd’s erotic music, but sex does sound nice right now.            It sounds so nice that I grab my dildo out of my drawer and take my pants off. I slide it slowly into my vagina at first and gradually increase the speed. I imagine my ideal guy on top of me, penetrating me and whispering dirty things in my ear. I am getting so wet. It is surprising how responsive I am to this little toy. Using my other hand, I start massaging my clit. Now, I’m forcefully moving the dildo in and out of my pussy. In my mind, my ideal man is caressing my back and clapping my cheeks hard as fuck. I start moaning and eventually I come all over my bed sheets. The initial pleasure from the orgasm quickly wears off. Instead of feeling blissful, I feel ashamed of myself for not finding a man since high school. The loneliness is suffocating. I feel myself sinking into my bed, drowning in my tears slowly. Everyone seems to have found someone except for me. : stellarsteele: Here is a preview of my first book ever! I am planning on releasing the full book very soon. Let me know what you think :))). Prologue            My name is Eva. I had one boyfriend in high school who turned out to be a disappointment. After breaking up with him, he kept sending me creepy messages on social media. I did what any girl would do—I blocked him.            I am anxious for another romantic experience with a different outcome. I thought college would be my chance, but this pandemic swooped in and fucked everything up. My ideal is a cute guy who is sensitive and provides me with unconditional love. I want to have deep conversations with him too. Physical appearance isn’t my greatest asset: I am not ugly, but not gorgeous. Sometimes guys at parties tell me that I’m charming and a good listener though. I would much rather be kissed than told these things, but I’ve learned to work with what I have. I must admit, I’m hard on myself. My roommate Emma has a lot of hookups and I always feel below her. She still complains about the absence of dateable guys which makes me feel better about my lack of success. I should mention my parents because I am going to be stuck with them for a while. They are strange as fuck. My dad is a classic nerd and my mother was wild in college. I’m pretty sure that she did cocaine at a party in college once. I honestly couldn’t tell you how they ended up together. I have no idea what to expect from this quarantine. I’m going to try to be productive and stay positive. Maybe, something good will come out of this. I’ve already improved my personal hygiene—it’s hard to stay super hygienic in college. I’ve been eating a lot healthier too since college cafeterias are no longer part of my daily routine. I also have a good excuse for being single. I’m going to take this time to find out more about myself. Maybe a boyfriend isn’t what I need right now. Although, if a cute guy were to enter my life right now, I am not sure I would be able to refuse him. Even if he got me infected… Day 1            My quarantine hasn’t been too bad so far. I started off by cleaning my room: I found a lot of dust under my bed and on my windows that desperately needed attention. My closet was a disaster too. I found a ton of clothes that haven’t fit me since middle school.            After, I went for a run in my neighborhood and discovered that my neighbors were completely disregarding the social distancing protocol. I didn’t heckle them or anything for disobeying the rules, but I was disappointed. You really discover who people really are when the world goes to shit.            I laid on my bed for a while and ended up reading an entire book. I haven’t been committed to a book like that since the Harry Potter books. I was lowkey impressed with myself. After, I fell asleep for a couple hours. I have a feeling that naps are going to be a big part of my daily routine even if I try to resist them.            Next, I checked my school email and discovered that all my classes are moving to a virtual platform called Zoom. I have no idea how virtual chemistry labs are going to work. Hopefully, my professor will save everyone the stress and give us all an A.            I checked my Instagram feed and ended up making a clever post. I got the most likes I have ever gotten which was satisfying. I am going to try to be more regular with my social media posts. Now, I’m sitting at my desk listening to The Weeknd’s new album. I love his angelic voice and atmospheric beats. I’m trying to come up with a list of goals for myself for quarantine: read a book; try to spend more time with my parents; do yoga 3 times per week; post regularly on social media; get laid. This is probably influenced by The Weeknd’s erotic music, but sex does sound nice right now.            It sounds so nice that I grab my dildo out of my drawer and take my pants off. I slide it slowly into my vagina at first and gradually increase the speed. I imagine my ideal guy on top of me, penetrating me and whispering dirty things in my ear. I am getting so wet. It is surprising how responsive I am to this little toy. Using my other hand, I start massaging my clit. Now, I’m forcefully moving the dildo in and out of my pussy. In my mind, my ideal man is caressing my back and clapping my cheeks hard as fuck. I start moaning and eventually I come all over my bed sheets. The initial pleasure from the orgasm quickly wears off. Instead of feeling blissful, I feel ashamed of myself for not finding a man since high school. The loneliness is suffocating. I feel myself sinking into my bed, drowning in my tears slowly. Everyone seems to have found someone except for me.
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clothing-references: clothing-references: This isn’t related to my blog aesthetic but I’m tired of seeing posts where people are making others paranoid that they’re in a coma or something. You’re not. I know lots of us know it’s just a bad “joke,” but some people don’t have the luxury of being able to believe that after seeing others tell them otherwise. You’re awake. Everything is okay. Hey so I’ve been dealing with some horrible cases of dissociation recently. It makes me think things that don’t make sense. I wanted to bring this post back and add onto it. Your life is real. You are awake. You aren’t lying on the ground or anything. No one is desperately trying to wake you. I am one person living in Houston who made this post. I am a living, conscious breathing person and if I made this post and it reaches you, that means you are, too. You didn’t imagine this post up. I made it two years ago. You aren’t dead. You aren’t seeing things. That light headed feeling is just a symptom. This isn’t a dream and you are going to be okay. I believe in you and I hope you get through this. : clothing-references: clothing-references: This isn’t related to my blog aesthetic but I’m tired of seeing posts where people are making others paranoid that they’re in a coma or something. You’re not. I know lots of us know it’s just a bad “joke,” but some people don’t have the luxury of being able to believe that after seeing others tell them otherwise. You’re awake. Everything is okay. Hey so I’ve been dealing with some horrible cases of dissociation recently. It makes me think things that don’t make sense. I wanted to bring this post back and add onto it. Your life is real. You are awake. You aren’t lying on the ground or anything. No one is desperately trying to wake you. I am one person living in Houston who made this post. I am a living, conscious breathing person and if I made this post and it reaches you, that means you are, too. You didn’t imagine this post up. I made it two years ago. You aren’t dead. You aren’t seeing things. That light headed feeling is just a symptom. This isn’t a dream and you are going to be okay. I believe in you and I hope you get through this.

clothing-references: clothing-references: This isn’t related to my blog aesthetic but I’m tired of seeing posts where people are making...

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femestella:There are so many reasons why women are afraid to say no to sex, even when we so desperately want to say it. We fear how you might react, how you might retaliate. Will it be violent? Will you attack us? Or worse, will you kill us? And no, we’re not just being “paranoid.” We’ve heard all the stories. Our fears are, sadly, justified. And if you do something to reaffirm those fears, if you intimidate us, or threaten us, even non-verbally, we may just be too scared to speak up. We may freeze up. We may be screaming “No” in our heads and yet can’t get it out of our lips. These fears are real and justified. And if you do something to play upon those fears (especially knowingly), then it is not consent. It’s rape. End of story.https://www.instagram.com/p/B9cKknqBWOi/?igshid=1r6n734b3aiju: femestella:There are so many reasons why women are afraid to say no to sex, even when we so desperately want to say it. We fear how you might react, how you might retaliate. Will it be violent? Will you attack us? Or worse, will you kill us? And no, we’re not just being “paranoid.” We’ve heard all the stories. Our fears are, sadly, justified. And if you do something to reaffirm those fears, if you intimidate us, or threaten us, even non-verbally, we may just be too scared to speak up. We may freeze up. We may be screaming “No” in our heads and yet can’t get it out of our lips. These fears are real and justified. And if you do something to play upon those fears (especially knowingly), then it is not consent. It’s rape. End of story.https://www.instagram.com/p/B9cKknqBWOi/?igshid=1r6n734b3aiju

femestella:There are so many reasons why women are afraid to say no to sex, even when we so desperately want to say it. We fear how you m...

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atlinmerrick: dancinggrimm: truckyousasha: thekaraokeninja: fandomsandfeminism: generalmaluga: albinwonderland: fandomsandfeminism: betterthanabortion: “My body, my choice” only makes sense when someone else’s life isn’t at stake. Fun fact: If my younger sister was in a car accident and desperately needed a blood transfusion to live, and I was the only person on Earth who could donate blood to save her, and even though donating blood is a relatively easy, safe, and quick procedure no one can force me to give blood. Yes, even to save the life of a fully grown person, it would be ILLEGAL to FORCE me to donate blood if I didn’t want to. See, we have this concept called “bodily autonomy.” It’s this….cultural notion that a person’s control over their own body is above all important and must not be infringed upon.  Like, we can’t even take LIFE SAVING organs from CORPSES unless the person whose corpse it is gave consent before their death. Even corpses get bodily autonomy.  To tell people that they MUST sacrifice their bodily autonomy for 9 months against their will in an incredibly expensive, invasive, difficult process to save what YOU view as another human life (a debatable claim in the early stages of pregnancy when the VAST majority of abortions are performed) is desperately unethical. You can’t even ask people to sacrifice bodily autonomy to give up organs they aren’t using anymore after they have died.  You’re asking people who can become pregnant to accept less bodily autonomy than we grant to dead bodies.  reblogging for commentary  But, assuming the mother wasn’t raped, the choice to HAVE a baby and risk sacrificing their “bodily autonomy” is a choice that the mother made. YOu don’t have to have sex with someone. Cases of rape aside, it isn’t ethical to say abortion is justified. The unborn baby has rights, too.  First point: Bodily autonomy can be preserved, even if another life is dependent on it. See again the example about the blood donation.  And here’s another point: When you say that “rape is the exception” you betray something FUNDAMENTALLY BROKEN about your own argument. Because a fetus produced from sexual assault is biologically NO DIFFERENT than a fetus produced from consensual sex. No difference at all. If one is alive, so is the other. If one is a person, so is the other. If one has a soul, then so does the other. If one is a little blessing that happened for a reason and must be protected, then so is the other.  When you say that “Rape is the exception” what you betray is this: It isn’t about a life. This isn’t about the little soul sitting inside some person’s womb, because if it was you wouldn’t care about HOW it got there, only that it is a little life that needs protecting. When you say “rape is the exception” what you say is this: You are treating pregnancy as a punishment. You are PUNISHING people who have had CONSENSUAL SEX but don’t want to go through a pregnancy. People who DARED to have consensual sex without the goal of procreation in mind, and this is their “consequence.”  And that is gross.  ^ THIS. This is this this THIS THIS THIS. THIS!!!!! This is probably the strongest and well worded/supported argument for abortion that I have ever read. WHY THE FUCK HAS TUMBLR FLAGGED THIS?! i’M FUCKING FURIOUS!!! Yep, this was flagged for me too. Which is why I’m going to reblog it several time until Tumblr implodes. : atlinmerrick: dancinggrimm: truckyousasha: thekaraokeninja: fandomsandfeminism: generalmaluga: albinwonderland: fandomsandfeminism: betterthanabortion: “My body, my choice” only makes sense when someone else’s life isn’t at stake. Fun fact: If my younger sister was in a car accident and desperately needed a blood transfusion to live, and I was the only person on Earth who could donate blood to save her, and even though donating blood is a relatively easy, safe, and quick procedure no one can force me to give blood. Yes, even to save the life of a fully grown person, it would be ILLEGAL to FORCE me to donate blood if I didn’t want to. See, we have this concept called “bodily autonomy.” It’s this….cultural notion that a person’s control over their own body is above all important and must not be infringed upon.  Like, we can’t even take LIFE SAVING organs from CORPSES unless the person whose corpse it is gave consent before their death. Even corpses get bodily autonomy.  To tell people that they MUST sacrifice their bodily autonomy for 9 months against their will in an incredibly expensive, invasive, difficult process to save what YOU view as another human life (a debatable claim in the early stages of pregnancy when the VAST majority of abortions are performed) is desperately unethical. You can’t even ask people to sacrifice bodily autonomy to give up organs they aren’t using anymore after they have died.  You’re asking people who can become pregnant to accept less bodily autonomy than we grant to dead bodies.  reblogging for commentary  But, assuming the mother wasn’t raped, the choice to HAVE a baby and risk sacrificing their “bodily autonomy” is a choice that the mother made. YOu don’t have to have sex with someone. Cases of rape aside, it isn’t ethical to say abortion is justified. The unborn baby has rights, too.  First point: Bodily autonomy can be preserved, even if another life is dependent on it. See again the example about the blood donation.  And here’s another point: When you say that “rape is the exception” you betray something FUNDAMENTALLY BROKEN about your own argument. Because a fetus produced from sexual assault is biologically NO DIFFERENT than a fetus produced from consensual sex. No difference at all. If one is alive, so is the other. If one is a person, so is the other. If one has a soul, then so does the other. If one is a little blessing that happened for a reason and must be protected, then so is the other.  When you say that “Rape is the exception” what you betray is this: It isn’t about a life. This isn’t about the little soul sitting inside some person’s womb, because if it was you wouldn’t care about HOW it got there, only that it is a little life that needs protecting. When you say “rape is the exception” what you say is this: You are treating pregnancy as a punishment. You are PUNISHING people who have had CONSENSUAL SEX but don’t want to go through a pregnancy. People who DARED to have consensual sex without the goal of procreation in mind, and this is their “consequence.”  And that is gross.  ^ THIS. This is this this THIS THIS THIS. THIS!!!!! This is probably the strongest and well worded/supported argument for abortion that I have ever read. WHY THE FUCK HAS TUMBLR FLAGGED THIS?! i’M FUCKING FURIOUS!!! Yep, this was flagged for me too. Which is why I’m going to reblog it several time until Tumblr implodes.
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cupcakeshakesnake: thesouthernjedi: roachpatrol: ghostymcspooky: soloontherocks: notanotherreyloblog: thebaconsandwichofregret: azumariko: he was on TATOOINE you fucking loser Obi-Wan can find an invisible planet hidden by a devious Sith Lord, Anakin can’t find his ex-best friend on his own home planet while the guy is still using his own damn name. I know we give Obi-wan a lot of shit for leaving Luke with his real surname but Anakin really is that stupid the perfect hiding place: the sandiest fucking planet that anakin would never set foot on again I’d like to remind everyone again that it’s literally canon that Vader can’t step foot on Tatooine because the desert gets into his creaky old man robot joints and makes his suit break down aka the sand is coarse, rough, irritating, and gets everywhere i  d o n t  l i k e  s a n d okay but what if everyone was like ‘vader, kenobi’s on tattooine. he’s obviously on tattooine. he’s been there for years. he’s just right fucking there, we all know it.’ and vader is just desperately shaking down jedi like they’re magic eight-balls and he wants a better fortune. like ‘no i don’t like that try again’.  kenobi’s just sitting there in his pile of sand like a smug fucking bastard. he doesn’t need to hide jack shit. he went to the tattooine board of tourism and got them to print up flyers that say ‘COME TO TATTOOINE, WE HAVE SAND’ and luke is probably going to be safe until his midlife fucking crisis at this rate. palpatine finds vader aimlessly checking behind pieces of furniture in some shitty space motel on kamino ‘he’s on tattooine,’ palpatine says.  ‘nuh uh,’ vader says, and peers under a couch. peers under a couch This is the best Star Wars post I have read in a while. : cupcakeshakesnake: thesouthernjedi: roachpatrol: ghostymcspooky: soloontherocks: notanotherreyloblog: thebaconsandwichofregret: azumariko: he was on TATOOINE you fucking loser Obi-Wan can find an invisible planet hidden by a devious Sith Lord, Anakin can’t find his ex-best friend on his own home planet while the guy is still using his own damn name. I know we give Obi-wan a lot of shit for leaving Luke with his real surname but Anakin really is that stupid the perfect hiding place: the sandiest fucking planet that anakin would never set foot on again I’d like to remind everyone again that it’s literally canon that Vader can’t step foot on Tatooine because the desert gets into his creaky old man robot joints and makes his suit break down aka the sand is coarse, rough, irritating, and gets everywhere i  d o n t  l i k e  s a n d okay but what if everyone was like ‘vader, kenobi’s on tattooine. he’s obviously on tattooine. he’s been there for years. he’s just right fucking there, we all know it.’ and vader is just desperately shaking down jedi like they’re magic eight-balls and he wants a better fortune. like ‘no i don’t like that try again’.  kenobi’s just sitting there in his pile of sand like a smug fucking bastard. he doesn’t need to hide jack shit. he went to the tattooine board of tourism and got them to print up flyers that say ‘COME TO TATTOOINE, WE HAVE SAND’ and luke is probably going to be safe until his midlife fucking crisis at this rate. palpatine finds vader aimlessly checking behind pieces of furniture in some shitty space motel on kamino ‘he’s on tattooine,’ palpatine says.  ‘nuh uh,’ vader says, and peers under a couch. peers under a couch This is the best Star Wars post I have read in a while.
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phoenix-phaedrana: hurtlittleboy: bama-5sos: copperbadge: drgaellon: racethewind10: rowsdower-saves-us: your-uncle-dave: tinyfloatingwhales: kikithegirl: uriesays: clatterbane: haydengise: ultrafacts: groovypirate: bee-the-gatekeeper: chauvinistsushi: bebinn: hellkatsally: ultrafacts: Source  These dudes are fucking legit.  They don’t just show up one day in court, either, they actually make friends with the kids and let them know they have a support system and that there are people in the world who care about them and will always have their back.  And less important, but also cool, is that the few times a couple of them have come into my cafe, they’ve been super friendly and polite and when I told one of the guys that I noticed his Bikers Against Child Abuse patch and wanted him to know how awesome I thought he was because of it, he got kind of shy and blushed and said, “The kids are the awesome ones, we just let them know they’re allowed to be brave.” The source is long, but so, so good. These men and women are available in 36 states, 24 hours a day to stand guard at home, in court, at school, even if the child has a nightmare. Many of them are survivors of childhood abuse as well, and know what it’s like to feel scared and alone. In court that day, the judge asked the boy, “Are you afraid?” No, the boy said. Pipes says the judge seemed surprised, and asked, “Why not?” The boy glanced at Pipes and the other bikers sitting in the front row, two more standing on each side of the courtroom door, and told the judge, “Because my friends are scarier than he is.” Actual tears.. hnngh Show me more of people like this, world. I give up on humans too easily. where do i sign up for this,i want to be in this gang This is fucking amazing. It may be out of character for me to say this but rock on Bikers Against Child Abuse was founded in 1995 by a Native American child psychologist whose ride name is Chief, when he came across a young boy who had been subjected to extreme abuse and was too afraid to leave his house. He called the boy to reach out to him, but the only thing that seemed to interest the child was Chief’s bike. Soon, some 20 bikers went to the boy’s neighborhood and were able to draw him out of his house for the first time in weeks. Chief’s thesis was that a child who has been abused by an adult can benefit psychologically from the presence of even more intimidating adults that they know are on their side. “When we tell a child they don’t have to be afraid, they believe us,” Arizona biker Pipes told azcentral.com. “When we tell them we will be there for them, they believe us.”( Article) More about BACA, from their site My parents are a part of this organization and they are metal af They go on runs to protect the child if they feel even the slightest threatened no matter where. If the child needs them to go on vacation with them, they do. Bikers come from across the nation to watch over and take shifts for these kids. And the best part is once you’re adopted into this family as a BACA kid, you’re always one. Even when you’re 40 and the perp gets released from jail, they’ll come meet with you and find your best options for avoiding the person and maintaining the life you’ve built for yourself. Once a BACA child, always a BACA child. In Florida, there’s 100% rate for identifying the perp based on the child’s testimony. Why? Because BACA stands with the child and supports the child so they feel comfortable enough to point out their attacker. What’s better than a badass biker gang being on your side??? NATIVE AMERICAN CHILD PSYCHOLOGIST WHO IS A BIKER AND NAMED HIMSELF CHIEF HELL YES I’M HERE FOR THAT AND BIKERS BEING BAD ASS TO PROTECT KIDS. HELL YEAH. it’s back! I will always reblog BACA Damn good people. I know they wouldn’t consider themselves such, but these people are freaking heroes and the world is a better place because of them.  Hey folks, it talks about this in the article but its not mentioned in this post, BACA is a 501 © (3) charity that depends in part on donations to help pay for stuff like gas for their bikes. If you want to help, consider donating.  @copperbadge You like posting about heroes, Sam. Seems like this would be up your alley. I love these folks! I’ve reblogged them before but it’s wonderful to see the donation information has been added.  Always reblog. Keep doing what you’re doing y'all. Guys? This post changed my life. I saw this post. Forever ago. And thought it was only in america… and wished desperately that they could help me. But then I saw it again, during a bad episode, and checked their site. They aren’t just in the USA They’re in Canada as well and probably other countries. I met and talked with a native guy who runs the place near me. His name is Shaman. I got in, and I’m considered a BACA child now. Despite being 17, turning 18 when I talked to them. They spent time with me when my abuser was over, they gave me therapy resources. They give you something called a ‘level 1′ where they go to your house with as many bikers as they can, i shit you not a solid 20-40 bikers came from even out of province, and met me. I got to choose my biker name and I got a vest with patches on it and my name on it. They all hugged a Teddybear before giving it to me, and told me if I ever felt the BACA bear was running out of love, to give them a call and they’d refill it for me, and then I got a ride on one of their bikes. Just a day or so ago I went to an annual party with them and they we ate food one of them cooked and had a lot of laughs.  I’ve never felt as loved as I did being a part of the BACA family. They also gave me dog tags with the names, and phone numbers of my 2 workers.  So I can call them whenever I feel scared.  BACA is an absolutely wonderful group that will do everything in it’s power to help any child whos been abused.  And it doesn’t end when you’re 18 either. As long as you get in contact/get your level 1 before you’re 18? you’re ALWAYS a BACA kid. I’m 18 now and they still invite me to parties, ask me if I’m okay, and are there for me. They’re still trying to find me resources for therapy.  BACA has changed my fucking life.  I hope you all can read this, and reblog it knowing from someone who fucking been with them, that they are absolutely amazing.  This… the fact that this exists makes me so damn happy. : There is a biker gang from Arizona who help keep child abuse victims safe while the child's abuser is prosecuted, including guarding their houses at night person is not yet in jail and attending court with the child, shielding them so they don't have to look at their abuser Ultrafacts.tumblr.com phoenix-phaedrana: hurtlittleboy: bama-5sos: copperbadge: drgaellon: racethewind10: rowsdower-saves-us: your-uncle-dave: tinyfloatingwhales: kikithegirl: uriesays: clatterbane: haydengise: ultrafacts: groovypirate: bee-the-gatekeeper: chauvinistsushi: bebinn: hellkatsally: ultrafacts: Source  These dudes are fucking legit.  They don’t just show up one day in court, either, they actually make friends with the kids and let them know they have a support system and that there are people in the world who care about them and will always have their back.  And less important, but also cool, is that the few times a couple of them have come into my cafe, they’ve been super friendly and polite and when I told one of the guys that I noticed his Bikers Against Child Abuse patch and wanted him to know how awesome I thought he was because of it, he got kind of shy and blushed and said, “The kids are the awesome ones, we just let them know they’re allowed to be brave.” The source is long, but so, so good. These men and women are available in 36 states, 24 hours a day to stand guard at home, in court, at school, even if the child has a nightmare. Many of them are survivors of childhood abuse as well, and know what it’s like to feel scared and alone. In court that day, the judge asked the boy, “Are you afraid?” No, the boy said. Pipes says the judge seemed surprised, and asked, “Why not?” The boy glanced at Pipes and the other bikers sitting in the front row, two more standing on each side of the courtroom door, and told the judge, “Because my friends are scarier than he is.” Actual tears.. hnngh Show me more of people like this, world. I give up on humans too easily. where do i sign up for this,i want to be in this gang This is fucking amazing. It may be out of character for me to say this but rock on Bikers Against Child Abuse was founded in 1995 by a Native American child psychologist whose ride name is Chief, when he came across a young boy who had been subjected to extreme abuse and was too afraid to leave his house. He called the boy to reach out to him, but the only thing that seemed to interest the child was Chief’s bike. Soon, some 20 bikers went to the boy’s neighborhood and were able to draw him out of his house for the first time in weeks. Chief’s thesis was that a child who has been abused by an adult can benefit psychologically from the presence of even more intimidating adults that they know are on their side. “When we tell a child they don’t have to be afraid, they believe us,” Arizona biker Pipes told azcentral.com. “When we tell them we will be there for them, they believe us.”( Article) More about BACA, from their site My parents are a part of this organization and they are metal af They go on runs to protect the child if they feel even the slightest threatened no matter where. If the child needs them to go on vacation with them, they do. Bikers come from across the nation to watch over and take shifts for these kids. And the best part is once you’re adopted into this family as a BACA kid, you’re always one. Even when you’re 40 and the perp gets released from jail, they’ll come meet with you and find your best options for avoiding the person and maintaining the life you’ve built for yourself. Once a BACA child, always a BACA child. In Florida, there’s 100% rate for identifying the perp based on the child’s testimony. Why? Because BACA stands with the child and supports the child so they feel comfortable enough to point out their attacker. What’s better than a badass biker gang being on your side??? NATIVE AMERICAN CHILD PSYCHOLOGIST WHO IS A BIKER AND NAMED HIMSELF CHIEF HELL YES I’M HERE FOR THAT AND BIKERS BEING BAD ASS TO PROTECT KIDS. HELL YEAH. it’s back! I will always reblog BACA Damn good people. I know they wouldn’t consider themselves such, but these people are freaking heroes and the world is a better place because of them.  Hey folks, it talks about this in the article but its not mentioned in this post, BACA is a 501 © (3) charity that depends in part on donations to help pay for stuff like gas for their bikes. If you want to help, consider donating.  @copperbadge You like posting about heroes, Sam. Seems like this would be up your alley. I love these folks! I’ve reblogged them before but it’s wonderful to see the donation information has been added.  Always reblog. Keep doing what you’re doing y'all. Guys? This post changed my life. I saw this post. Forever ago. And thought it was only in america… and wished desperately that they could help me. But then I saw it again, during a bad episode, and checked their site. They aren’t just in the USA They’re in Canada as well and probably other countries. I met and talked with a native guy who runs the place near me. His name is Shaman. I got in, and I’m considered a BACA child now. Despite being 17, turning 18 when I talked to them. They spent time with me when my abuser was over, they gave me therapy resources. They give you something called a ‘level 1′ where they go to your house with as many bikers as they can, i shit you not a solid 20-40 bikers came from even out of province, and met me. I got to choose my biker name and I got a vest with patches on it and my name on it. They all hugged a Teddybear before giving it to me, and told me if I ever felt the BACA bear was running out of love, to give them a call and they’d refill it for me, and then I got a ride on one of their bikes. Just a day or so ago I went to an annual party with them and they we ate food one of them cooked and had a lot of laughs.  I’ve never felt as loved as I did being a part of the BACA family. They also gave me dog tags with the names, and phone numbers of my 2 workers.  So I can call them whenever I feel scared.  BACA is an absolutely wonderful group that will do everything in it’s power to help any child whos been abused.  And it doesn’t end when you’re 18 either. As long as you get in contact/get your level 1 before you’re 18? you’re ALWAYS a BACA kid. I’m 18 now and they still invite me to parties, ask me if I’m okay, and are there for me. They’re still trying to find me resources for therapy.  BACA has changed my fucking life.  I hope you all can read this, and reblog it knowing from someone who fucking been with them, that they are absolutely amazing.  This… the fact that this exists makes me so damn happy.
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cupcakeshakesnake: thesouthernjedi: roachpatrol: ghostymcspooky: soloontherocks: notanotherreyloblog: thebaconsandwichofregret: azumariko: he was on TATOOINE you fucking loser Obi-Wan can find an invisible planet hidden by a devious Sith Lord, Anakin can’t find his ex-best friend on his own home planet while the guy is still using his own damn name. I know we give Obi-wan a lot of shit for leaving Luke with his real surname but Anakin really is that stupid the perfect hiding place: the sandiest fucking planet that anakin would never set foot on again I’d like to remind everyone again that it’s literally canon that Vader can’t step foot on Tatooine because the desert gets into his creaky old man robot joints and makes his suit break down aka the sand is coarse, rough, irritating, and gets everywhere i  d o n t  l i k e  s a n d okay but what if everyone was like ‘vader, kenobi’s on tattooine. he’s obviously on tattooine. he’s been there for years. he’s just right fucking there, we all know it.’ and vader is just desperately shaking down jedi like they’re magic eight-balls and he wants a better fortune. like ‘no i don’t like that try again’.  kenobi’s just sitting there in his pile of sand like a smug fucking bastard. he doesn’t need to hide jack shit. he went to the tattooine board of tourism and got them to print up flyers that say ‘COME TO TATTOOINE, WE HAVE SAND’ and luke is probably going to be safe until his midlife fucking crisis at this rate. palpatine finds vader aimlessly checking behind pieces of furniture in some shitty space motel on kamino ‘he’s on tattooine,’ palpatine says.  ‘nuh uh,’ vader says, and peers under a couch. peers under a couch This is the best Star Wars post I have read in a while. : Unknown to Kenobi, he was also being rigorously hunted ortured several Jedi in order to find kenobi's whereabouts, and sparing no expense to do This would work to Vader's disadvantage, however cupcakeshakesnake: thesouthernjedi: roachpatrol: ghostymcspooky: soloontherocks: notanotherreyloblog: thebaconsandwichofregret: azumariko: he was on TATOOINE you fucking loser Obi-Wan can find an invisible planet hidden by a devious Sith Lord, Anakin can’t find his ex-best friend on his own home planet while the guy is still using his own damn name. I know we give Obi-wan a lot of shit for leaving Luke with his real surname but Anakin really is that stupid the perfect hiding place: the sandiest fucking planet that anakin would never set foot on again I’d like to remind everyone again that it’s literally canon that Vader can’t step foot on Tatooine because the desert gets into his creaky old man robot joints and makes his suit break down aka the sand is coarse, rough, irritating, and gets everywhere i  d o n t  l i k e  s a n d okay but what if everyone was like ‘vader, kenobi’s on tattooine. he’s obviously on tattooine. he’s been there for years. he’s just right fucking there, we all know it.’ and vader is just desperately shaking down jedi like they’re magic eight-balls and he wants a better fortune. like ‘no i don’t like that try again’.  kenobi’s just sitting there in his pile of sand like a smug fucking bastard. he doesn’t need to hide jack shit. he went to the tattooine board of tourism and got them to print up flyers that say ‘COME TO TATTOOINE, WE HAVE SAND’ and luke is probably going to be safe until his midlife fucking crisis at this rate. palpatine finds vader aimlessly checking behind pieces of furniture in some shitty space motel on kamino ‘he’s on tattooine,’ palpatine says.  ‘nuh uh,’ vader says, and peers under a couch. peers under a couch This is the best Star Wars post I have read in a while.
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bikiniarmorbattledamage: So Wolfenstein: Youngblood has been out for a few days, and the fact that it exists has been driving alt-right, capital G “Gamers” nuts.It’s a fun action game where a pair of fictional women, who are not designed as Sexbot 3000s, kill a whole bunch of Nazis. As well as that, they work with a primarily female main cast, including a young black woman (voiced by a black woman - yes this is rare in games!) as their super genius handler. It’s great, and that Nazis hate it makes it even greater.How batshit are they going? Well on top of trying to bomb the Steam reviews and turn the Discussion boards into a cesspit - they’re trying desperately to bomb the Metacritc as well… like no one will be suspicious.Of course, in the reviews they’re claiming a variety of contradictory issues which I’m not going to go into here since experience tells me they’re going to spam them regardless of how often they’re countered.  It’s a thing.Now, while I’m not a fan of the outfits having plating to essentially showcase where the boobs are - otherwise this is basically how to do any sort of form fitting “soft” armor (chainmail, kevlar, etc).  It sits on the body without pushing boobs and butts into display, and the natural light means it’s rarely titillating and definitely not designed for suspicious camera angles (pay attention Mass Effect)On top of that, the other costumes for the twins and many other female characters are great and the twins are some of the best characters introduced into the FPS genre in a long, long time.  So of course bro-dudes hate it with the fury of a thousand suns.So if you’re looking for a game you can play with a buddy, or just one you play with a female AI companion who isn’t also a Sexbot 3000, and you’re as against Nazis as we are - consider: Youngblood.- wincenworks I wanted to save for Doom but guess imma buy Youngblood now to piss off some Dudebro Gamers: Wofenstein YOUNGBLOOD 5 MAR ESCAPE BACK LEFT RIGHT SWITCH 26 Jul@ 10:24am imcoffeelingfine The girls aren't even cute. Would it have killed them to make the characters attractive? Showing 46-48 of 48 comments Klinsk 4 minutes ag0 Can you purchase attractive big-breasted women with Gold Bars? Baldr 1 hour ago The girls are ugly manlike femnazis Baldr 1 hour ago Girls are not strong enough to behave like men. This is another example of how they push feminism Arrancar 1 hour ago They aren't cute coz they are white. White girls these days can only be fat chick with short bleached hair and yell how white man is oppressing everyone. david 1 hour ago Lol they are so ugly the devs literally put boxes on their heads :D #3 [HN] 1 hour ago Well, DUH The point was never to give players cute girls, it was to push feminist agenda by removing yet another iconic manly male character and replace it with a feminist approved character, one that would be as unapealling as possible to male players (or to female players for that maters, but we all know feminists don't really care about thos anyway). Last edited by [HN 1 hour ago #3 [HN] 1 hour ago Speaking of Ariel, you should be grateful thos twins aren't black kiteless 40 minutes ago feminists and npcs push the ugly agenda so they can feel better about themselves 30 bikiniarmorbattledamage: So Wolfenstein: Youngblood has been out for a few days, and the fact that it exists has been driving alt-right, capital G “Gamers” nuts.It’s a fun action game where a pair of fictional women, who are not designed as Sexbot 3000s, kill a whole bunch of Nazis. As well as that, they work with a primarily female main cast, including a young black woman (voiced by a black woman - yes this is rare in games!) as their super genius handler. It’s great, and that Nazis hate it makes it even greater.How batshit are they going? Well on top of trying to bomb the Steam reviews and turn the Discussion boards into a cesspit - they’re trying desperately to bomb the Metacritc as well… like no one will be suspicious.Of course, in the reviews they’re claiming a variety of contradictory issues which I’m not going to go into here since experience tells me they’re going to spam them regardless of how often they’re countered.  It’s a thing.Now, while I’m not a fan of the outfits having plating to essentially showcase where the boobs are - otherwise this is basically how to do any sort of form fitting “soft” armor (chainmail, kevlar, etc).  It sits on the body without pushing boobs and butts into display, and the natural light means it’s rarely titillating and definitely not designed for suspicious camera angles (pay attention Mass Effect)On top of that, the other costumes for the twins and many other female characters are great and the twins are some of the best characters introduced into the FPS genre in a long, long time.  So of course bro-dudes hate it with the fury of a thousand suns.So if you’re looking for a game you can play with a buddy, or just one you play with a female AI companion who isn’t also a Sexbot 3000, and you’re as against Nazis as we are - consider: Youngblood.- wincenworks I wanted to save for Doom but guess imma buy Youngblood now to piss off some Dudebro Gamers
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paradise-dream222: libertarirynn: paradise-dream222: flyandfamousblackgirls: Shae Scott: “This is why I don’t date ugly guys..” I’ve dated an ugly guy before and he was just a WASTE of my time. He didn’t get cocky, but he should’ve been a lil more appreciative of me. Seeing that no other girl would even look at him before I did. Holy fuck y’all are conceited. Those men are dodging bullets. @libertarirynn Lol lemme clarify my statement was very limited to what truly went down in that relationship. Him being unattractive to me was just on the surface. He did also turn out to be jealous, an alcoholic, and very controlling as well. My expectations then (age 18) were on the selfish side because I felt that an “ugly” guy would basically worship a pretty girl, seeing that he hadn’t dated many girls before me. Also I desperately wanted to be in a relationship because of my foolish insecurities. Trust me I take the L and I understand that it was apart of my karma the overall outcome, because I went about that relationship all wrong. BUT he is still at fault for being a terrible boyfriend, because even though now I can openly say I wasn’t attracted to him. I did not mistreat him at all, I never told him to his face I thought he was ugly. It was my internal feelings towards him. OK then the issue is that he’s a shitty boyfriend, not that he’s ugly. So why are you bringing up his “ugliness” as though that’s a factor for why relationship didn’t work out or acting like he should’ve worshiped you because you were more attractive? He could’ve been handsome as fuck and still had all of those personality flaws you mentioned.: paradise-dream222: libertarirynn: paradise-dream222: flyandfamousblackgirls: Shae Scott: “This is why I don’t date ugly guys..” I’ve dated an ugly guy before and he was just a WASTE of my time. He didn’t get cocky, but he should’ve been a lil more appreciative of me. Seeing that no other girl would even look at him before I did. Holy fuck y’all are conceited. Those men are dodging bullets. @libertarirynn Lol lemme clarify my statement was very limited to what truly went down in that relationship. Him being unattractive to me was just on the surface. He did also turn out to be jealous, an alcoholic, and very controlling as well. My expectations then (age 18) were on the selfish side because I felt that an “ugly” guy would basically worship a pretty girl, seeing that he hadn’t dated many girls before me. Also I desperately wanted to be in a relationship because of my foolish insecurities. Trust me I take the L and I understand that it was apart of my karma the overall outcome, because I went about that relationship all wrong. BUT he is still at fault for being a terrible boyfriend, because even though now I can openly say I wasn’t attracted to him. I did not mistreat him at all, I never told him to his face I thought he was ugly. It was my internal feelings towards him. OK then the issue is that he’s a shitty boyfriend, not that he’s ugly. So why are you bringing up his “ugliness” as though that’s a factor for why relationship didn’t work out or acting like he should’ve worshiped you because you were more attractive? He could’ve been handsome as fuck and still had all of those personality flaws you mentioned.
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fuck-usag: stone-faced-sunset: anyar0se: macgyvershe: mjaydziarand: instructor144: bowtomypointlesswords: hurtlittleboy: bama-5sos: copperbadge: drgaellon: racethewind10: rowsdower-saves-us: your-uncle-dave: tinyfloatingwhales: kikithegirl: uriesays: clatterbane: haydengise: ultrafacts: groovypirate: bee-the-gatekeeper: chauvinistsushi: bebinn: hellkatsally: ultrafacts: Source  These dudes are fucking legit.  They don’t just show up one day in court, either, they actually make friends with the kids and let them know they have a support system and that there are people in the world who care about them and will always have their back.  And less important, but also cool, is that the few times a couple of them have come into my cafe, they’ve been super friendly and polite and when I told one of the guys that I noticed his Bikers Against Child Abuse patch and wanted him to know how awesome I thought he was because of it, he got kind of shy and blushed and said, “The kids are the awesome ones, we just let them know they’re allowed to be brave.” The source is long, but so, so good. These men and women are available in 36 states, 24 hours a day to stand guard at home, in court, at school, even if the child has a nightmare. Many of them are survivors of childhood abuse as well, and know what it’s like to feel scared and alone. In court that day, the judge asked the boy, “Are you afraid?” No, the boy said. Pipes says the judge seemed surprised, and asked, “Why not?” The boy glanced at Pipes and the other bikers sitting in the front row, two more standing on each side of the courtroom door, and told the judge, “Because my friends are scarier than he is.” Actual tears.. hnngh Show me more of people like this, world. I give up on humans too easily. where do i sign up for this,i want to be in this gang This is fucking amazing. It may be out of character for me to say this but rock on Bikers Against Child Abuse was founded in 1995 by a Native American child psychologist whose ride name is Chief, when he came across a young boy who had been subjected to extreme abuse and was too afraid to leave his house. He called the boy to reach out to him, but the only thing that seemed to interest the child was Chief’s bike. Soon, some 20 bikers went to the boy’s neighborhood and were able to draw him out of his house for the first time in weeks. Chief’s thesis was that a child who has been abused by an adult can benefit psychologically from the presence of even more intimidating adults that they know are on their side. “When we tell a child they don’t have to be afraid, they believe us,” Arizona biker Pipes told azcentral.com. “When we tell them we will be there for them, they believe us.”( Article) More about BACA, from their site My parents are a part of this organization and they are metal af They go on runs to protect the child if they feel even the slightest threatened no matter where. If the child needs them to go on vacation with them, they do. Bikers come from across the nation to watch over and take shifts for these kids. And the best part is once you’re adopted into this family as a BACA kid, you’re always one. Even when you’re 40 and the perp gets released from jail, they’ll come meet with you and find your best options for avoiding the person and maintaining the life you’ve built for yourself. Once a BACA child, always a BACA child. In Florida, there’s 100% rate for identifying the perp based on the child’s testimony. Why? Because BACA stands with the child and supports the child so they feel comfortable enough to point out their attacker. What’s better than a badass biker gang being on your side??? NATIVE AMERICAN CHILD PSYCHOLOGIST WHO IS A BIKER AND NAMED HIMSELF CHIEF HELL YES I’M HERE FOR THAT AND BIKERS BEING BAD ASS TO PROTECT KIDS. HELL YEAH. it’s back! I will always reblog BACA Damn good people. I know they wouldn’t consider themselves such, but these people are freaking heroes and the world is a better place because of them.  Hey folks, it talks about this in the article but its not mentioned in this post, BACA is a 501 © (3) charity that depends in part on donations to help pay for stuff like gas for their bikes. If you want to help, consider donating.  @copperbadge You like posting about heroes, Sam. Seems like this would be up your alley. I love these folks! I’ve reblogged them before but it’s wonderful to see the donation information has been added.  Always reblog. Keep doing what you’re doing y'all. Guys? This post changed my life. I saw this post. Forever ago. And thought it was only in america… and wished desperately that they could help me. But then I saw it again, during a bad episode, and checked their site. They aren’t just in the USA They’re in Canada as well and probably other countries. I met and talked with a native guy who runs the place near me. His name is Shaman. I got in, and I’m considered a BACA child now. Despite being 17, turning 18 when I talked to them. They spent time with me when my abuser was over, they gave me therapy resources. They give you something called a ‘level 1′ where they go to your house with as many bikers as they can, i shit you not a solid 20-40 bikers came from even out of province, and met me. I got to choose my biker name and I got a vest with patches on it and my name on it. They all hugged a Teddybear before giving it to me, and told me if I ever felt the BACA bear was running out of love, to give them a call and they’d refill it for me, and then I got a ride on one of their bikes. Just a day or so ago I went to an annual party with them and they we ate food one of them cooked and had a lot of laughs.  I’ve never felt as loved as I did being a part of the BACA family. They also gave me dog tags with the names, and phone numbers of my 2 workers.  So I can call them whenever I feel scared.  BACA is an absolutely wonderful group that will do everything in it’s power to help any child whos been abused.  And it doesn’t end when you’re 18 either. As long as you get in contact/get your level 1 before you’re 18? you’re ALWAYS a BACA kid. I’m 18 now and they still invite me to parties, ask me if I’m okay, and are there for me. They’re still trying to find me resources for therapy.  BACA has changed my fucking life.  I hope you all can read this, and reblog it knowing from someone who fucking been with them, that they are absolutely amazing.  This is truly amazing, I’m so glad people like this exist This needs to be reblogged. Because. Always reblog BACA. Signal Boosting because the world needs more biker angels. I will never not reblog this The only gang I’d beg to join God I could really use a bear filled with hugs and love by 40 or so tough ass bikers : There is a biker gang from Arizona who help keep child abuse victims safe while the child's abuser is prosecuted, including guarding their houses at night person is not yet in jail and attending court with the child, shielding them so they don't have to look at their abuser Ultrafacts.tumblr.com fuck-usag: stone-faced-sunset: anyar0se: macgyvershe: mjaydziarand: instructor144: bowtomypointlesswords: hurtlittleboy: bama-5sos: copperbadge: drgaellon: racethewind10: rowsdower-saves-us: your-uncle-dave: tinyfloatingwhales: kikithegirl: uriesays: clatterbane: haydengise: ultrafacts: groovypirate: bee-the-gatekeeper: chauvinistsushi: bebinn: hellkatsally: ultrafacts: Source  These dudes are fucking legit.  They don’t just show up one day in court, either, they actually make friends with the kids and let them know they have a support system and that there are people in the world who care about them and will always have their back.  And less important, but also cool, is that the few times a couple of them have come into my cafe, they’ve been super friendly and polite and when I told one of the guys that I noticed his Bikers Against Child Abuse patch and wanted him to know how awesome I thought he was because of it, he got kind of shy and blushed and said, “The kids are the awesome ones, we just let them know they’re allowed to be brave.” The source is long, but so, so good. These men and women are available in 36 states, 24 hours a day to stand guard at home, in court, at school, even if the child has a nightmare. Many of them are survivors of childhood abuse as well, and know what it’s like to feel scared and alone. In court that day, the judge asked the boy, “Are you afraid?” No, the boy said. Pipes says the judge seemed surprised, and asked, “Why not?” The boy glanced at Pipes and the other bikers sitting in the front row, two more standing on each side of the courtroom door, and told the judge, “Because my friends are scarier than he is.” Actual tears.. hnngh Show me more of people like this, world. I give up on humans too easily. where do i sign up for this,i want to be in this gang This is fucking amazing. It may be out of character for me to say this but rock on Bikers Against Child Abuse was founded in 1995 by a Native American child psychologist whose ride name is Chief, when he came across a young boy who had been subjected to extreme abuse and was too afraid to leave his house. He called the boy to reach out to him, but the only thing that seemed to interest the child was Chief’s bike. Soon, some 20 bikers went to the boy’s neighborhood and were able to draw him out of his house for the first time in weeks. Chief’s thesis was that a child who has been abused by an adult can benefit psychologically from the presence of even more intimidating adults that they know are on their side. “When we tell a child they don’t have to be afraid, they believe us,” Arizona biker Pipes told azcentral.com. “When we tell them we will be there for them, they believe us.”( Article) More about BACA, from their site My parents are a part of this organization and they are metal af They go on runs to protect the child if they feel even the slightest threatened no matter where. If the child needs them to go on vacation with them, they do. Bikers come from across the nation to watch over and take shifts for these kids. And the best part is once you’re adopted into this family as a BACA kid, you’re always one. Even when you’re 40 and the perp gets released from jail, they’ll come meet with you and find your best options for avoiding the person and maintaining the life you’ve built for yourself. Once a BACA child, always a BACA child. In Florida, there’s 100% rate for identifying the perp based on the child’s testimony. Why? Because BACA stands with the child and supports the child so they feel comfortable enough to point out their attacker. What’s better than a badass biker gang being on your side??? NATIVE AMERICAN CHILD PSYCHOLOGIST WHO IS A BIKER AND NAMED HIMSELF CHIEF HELL YES I’M HERE FOR THAT AND BIKERS BEING BAD ASS TO PROTECT KIDS. HELL YEAH. it’s back! I will always reblog BACA Damn good people. I know they wouldn’t consider themselves such, but these people are freaking heroes and the world is a better place because of them.  Hey folks, it talks about this in the article but its not mentioned in this post, BACA is a 501 © (3) charity that depends in part on donations to help pay for stuff like gas for their bikes. If you want to help, consider donating.  @copperbadge You like posting about heroes, Sam. Seems like this would be up your alley. I love these folks! I’ve reblogged them before but it’s wonderful to see the donation information has been added.  Always reblog. Keep doing what you’re doing y'all. Guys? This post changed my life. I saw this post. Forever ago. And thought it was only in america… and wished desperately that they could help me. But then I saw it again, during a bad episode, and checked their site. They aren’t just in the USA They’re in Canada as well and probably other countries. I met and talked with a native guy who runs the place near me. His name is Shaman. I got in, and I’m considered a BACA child now. Despite being 17, turning 18 when I talked to them. They spent time with me when my abuser was over, they gave me therapy resources. They give you something called a ‘level 1′ where they go to your house with as many bikers as they can, i shit you not a solid 20-40 bikers came from even out of province, and met me. I got to choose my biker name and I got a vest with patches on it and my name on it. They all hugged a Teddybear before giving it to me, and told me if I ever felt the BACA bear was running out of love, to give them a call and they’d refill it for me, and then I got a ride on one of their bikes. Just a day or so ago I went to an annual party with them and they we ate food one of them cooked and had a lot of laughs.  I’ve never felt as loved as I did being a part of the BACA family. They also gave me dog tags with the names, and phone numbers of my 2 workers.  So I can call them whenever I feel scared.  BACA is an absolutely wonderful group that will do everything in it’s power to help any child whos been abused.  And it doesn’t end when you’re 18 either. As long as you get in contact/get your level 1 before you’re 18? you’re ALWAYS a BACA kid. I’m 18 now and they still invite me to parties, ask me if I’m okay, and are there for me. They’re still trying to find me resources for therapy.  BACA has changed my fucking life.  I hope you all can read this, and reblog it knowing from someone who fucking been with them, that they are absolutely amazing.  This is truly amazing, I’m so glad people like this exist This needs to be reblogged. Because. Always reblog BACA. Signal Boosting because the world needs more biker angels. I will never not reblog this The only gang I’d beg to join God I could really use a bear filled with hugs and love by 40 or so tough ass bikers
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