gotta love the fact that of the two lives of St Radegund, the one written by a nun is all about her good work for the community and the one written by a monk is torture porn.
this is from the Vita Radegundis of the nun Baudonivia:
(that attitude. i’d literally let radegund drive her horse over me.)
and this is from her Life by Fortunatus, who clearly had a problem (proceed with caution: very violent self-harm)
The breaking glass was the first thing Yves heard, followed by a scream.
“Yves!!”
The vampire dropped the dustpan and brush he’d been using and ran, taking the stairs two at a time and bursting into the Mistress’ room.
“Yves- Help!!” Miss Edith was standing in her nightdress beside her bed, grey hair sliding out of its neat bun, swinging a broken table lamp like a bat, inexpertly but with the energy of terror. Her crossbow was over the mantle, and she couldn’t get to it.
It was the other figure in the room, between Edith Nightley and her crossbow, who had Yves’ full attention- a barefoot man in raggedy clothes, with a bloodstained shirt and fingernails like claws. A feral vampire.
Whoa, I didn’t realize that it was so deliberate, I honestly thought it was unconscious
Scary, scary.
Gonna add on to this: From the other side of the bar, I see this crap all the time. Seriously. I work at a high-density bar, and let me tell you, I have anywhere from 10-20 guys every night come up and tell me to, “serve her a stronger drink, I’m trying to get lucky tonight, know what I mean?” usually accompanied with a wink and a gesture at a girl who, in my experience, is going to go from mildly buzzed to definitively hammered if I keep serving her. Now, I like to think I’m a responsible bartender, so I usually tell guys like that to piss off, and, if I can, try to tell the girl’s more sober friends that they need to keep an eye on her. But everyone- just so you know, most of the time, when someone you don’t know is buying you a drink, they’re NOT doing it out of a sense of cordiality, they’re buying you a drink for the sole purpose of making you let your guard down. So:
Tips for getting drinks-
1. ALWAYS GO TO THE BAR TO GET YOUR OWN DRINK, DO NOT LET STRANGERS CARRY YOUR DRINKS. This is an opportune time for dropping something into your cocktail, and you’re none the wiser.
2.IF YOU ORDER SOMETHING NON-ALCOHOLIC, I promise you, the bartender doesn’t give two shits that you’re not drinking cocktails with your friends, and often, totally understands that you don’t want to let your guard down around strangers. Usually, you can just tell the bartender that you’d like something light, and that’s a big clue to us that you’re uncomfortable with whomever you’re standing next to. Again, we see this all the time.
3. If you’re in a position to where you feel uncomfortable not ordering alcohol:
Here’s a list of light liquors, and mixers that won’t get you drunk, and will still look like an actual cocktail:
X-rated + sprite = easy to drink, sweet, and 12% alcoholic content. Not strong at all, usually runs $6-$8, depending on your state.
Amaretto + sour= sweet, not strong, 26%.
Peach Schnapps+ ginger ale= tastes like mellow butterscotch, 24%.
Melon liquor (Midori, in most bars) + soda water = not overly sweet, 21%
Coffee liquor (Kahlua) +soda = not super sweet, 20%.
Hope this helps someone out!
Backing this up from years of bar tending.
Adding to this:
When I was a fresh bartender, I had a couple sitting in the corner, already drinking when I started my shift. They seemed like they knew each other really well considering how much they had their hands on one another. But I still came by and asked if they were okay. The man just waved me off while the woman said, “I need some water.”
The man laughed it off and told me, “She doesn’t need any water. She’s fine.”
She was not fine. Clearly. I decided I was going to cut the two off anyway and bring them some water. As I was filling up the glasses, I heard the woman say, “Stop. I said no. I don’t feel good.”
Her tone and attitude changed instantly. She kept pushing his hand away when he reached for her face, turned her head away when he tried to kiss her. Loudly told him, “Stop. I’m done for tonight.”
So I made sure to refill her water the moment she finished it, and I stayed within earshot of them the whole night. And every time I did, the man got mad at me, told me to leave them alone. Their friends were there, surrounding them and told me that those two always fought when they were drunk and apologized, so I relaxed a little. But the last time I refilled her drink, I heard a loud crash.
She fell out of her stool and hit her head on the floor. And he calmly drank his drink. Their friends didn’t even blink. I jumped over the bar to tend to her and he just said, “Don’t worry, I’ll take her home. She always ends up like this. She drinks too much.”
But it didn’t sound right.
Then the woman began convulsing.
I yelled for the other bartender to call 911 and when I did, the guy suddenly disappeared. I tried asking thr friends questions about him and they just blew it off as the woman being a black our drunk. And one of them said, “We’ll get her home. Don’t worry.”
But when thr EMTs showed up with the police, they all disappeared too.
A few days later the woman came with an attorney. She asked me and the other bartender who worked before me some questions. Turns out, she didn’t know any of those people. They weren’t her friends or her boyfriend. They had met that night, when the guy asked her if he could buy her a drink. At the hospital, they found traces of Rohypnol in her system.
The guy had Roofied her. And his friends were in on it.
The security camera footage showed he had put something in her drink when she left for the bathroom before my shift.
So seriously, it happens. You haveto be careful with your drinks! Always watch it, don’t let anyone handle it, and take it with you wherever you go–even the bathroom. Or if you’re a regular at that bar, ask the bartender to put it behind the bar. We’ll do it.
Rb for that last add, don’t ever worry about being polite! Protect urself!
REBLOG AND SPREAD THE WORD!
Never EVER trust men
Take it one further, never, ever, trust strangers. Look, I’ve flown wing man with many a friend, gay, straight, and any other stripe of the rainbow. I’m your drink watcher, I’m the sober driver, I’m getting everyone home. Unless we’ve agreed, in advance, that you aren’t coming home with me…and even then you get a status check before you split. I’ve seen women play just as dirty as men. It’s great to have drinks bought for you, but you owe them nothing. Remember, you didn’t ask that person to buy you a drink, they just did. If you don’t have a watcher, and the bar can’t cover, either finish the drink before the bathroom, take it in with you, or simply never finish it. You didn’t buy it, you aren’t out anything!
Non-alcoholic drinks that look like booze:
Seltzer water or club soda with a wedge of lime or lemon
Ginger ale or Sprite with a splash of grenadine (aka Shirley Temple)
Spicy V-8 or tomato juice
Coke and grenadine (aka Roy Rogers)
Iced tea and lemonade (aka an Arnold Palmer)
Kombucha
Sparkling cider or grape juice
You can also ask for virgin mojitos, daiquiris, or pretty much any fancy cocktail - bartenders have plenty of simple syrups and juices they can combine for something spectacular without a drop of alcohol.
Reblogging for this last list especially because guys, don’t assume how much alcohol you can handle if you don’t know.
*Do Not Read if you are Triggered by any of the following Warnings
Warnings:cursing, funerals, using people for profit, unprotected sex/wrap it up kiddos, intentional poisoning, slow death by blood letting, buried alive, rough oral sex, gun/knife play, blood play, necrophilia
A/N:Set Season 6 between Clap Your Hands If You Believe & ..And Then There We’re None
Summary: Sam Wesson has been wrongfully accused of murdering his college roommate. Convicted and sentenced to life without parole, he is on his way to prison when the transport van crashes, presenting him with a chance to escape. Desperate for freedom, he goes on the run. He vows that he will do whatever he has to do to stay out of prison. US Marshal Dean Winchester is on his trail. His job is simple: capture Sam and bring him back to prison. At least it started out as simple. But two unexpected things happen: he becomes attracted to the fugitive and he begins to suspect that Sam is innocent. In a clash between desire and duty, which side will win?
A version for tumblr that can be read without opening a new tab, since plenty of people would scroll past this story otherwise.
The bravest woman on Earth.
I love her. Forever reblog.
I have the utmost respect for this woman.
please reblog. reblog the way you would reblog a picture of a hot singer, a pretty girl, a tasty meal or some nice stationary. Because this will not make your blog ‘less aesthetic’ or anything. This is important, far more important than anything I’ve mentioned before.
I’m amusing myself because I’m writing a very sad THHT scene but in the middle of it is essentially this:
Loki: Wait, wait, before you torture me, let me tell you a secret!
Skadi: Okay …
Loki: *bites her*
Skadi: Wtf
Not to mention the chapter prior of Jory just getting fucking yeeted into the ocean
They sat up, resting on bruised kneecaps. Their hands were still tied behind their back. Blood had matted in their hair from a cut on their forehead.
“Before he died,” they began, and Skadi had to swallow back the ache in her throat. “He told me about your mother. How she wanted to share something with you when you turned sixteen.”
They rose unsteadily to their feet. Skadi could sense Freyja just out of her field of vision, cradling a dagger. She couldn’t move.
“What was it?” she asked.
Loki stepped closer to her. She let them. Their eyes flicked away before meeting hers, a harsh, acid green under purple bruises.
Pain split through the soft flesh of her shoulder. Loki had darted forward and bit her hard enough to break skin under the fabric. She stepped back, pulling her arm away. They took off for the mouth of the cave.
You’re a novice demon who managed to convice a mother to give up her first born in exchange for eternal youth. You did so, because it seems like the kind of thing all the other demons are doing, but now you are not sure what you are supposed to do with an infant and it’s way too late to ask.
“You could always eat it.”
Envy looked up in confusion.
“Sorry, what?”
Gluttony gestured to the infant nestled in Envy’s arms.
“I’ve had human before,” they said. “It’s not bad. Like pork. I bet a little one would be soft. Like veal.”
Gluttony ran their tongue over a set of rotten teeth. Gray and emaciated, they always had a pinched, hungry look about them.
“I could take it off your hands, if you want.”
Envy shrank back, cradling the infant a bit tighter.
“No,” they hissed. “This is mine, Gluttony.”
Gluttony chuckled.
“Suit yourself,” they said. “You were the one who asked what to do with it.”
Envy stalked off with the child, unsure where to go next. If this was the advice Gluttony had to give, imagine what Wrath would have to say. Or Lust. Envy shuddered.
But something even worse happened to Envy, instead.
I’m bothered by the discussion around Amber Heard revolving around the notion that “bisexuality doesn’t justify violence”. Not because it’s untrue, but because it’s superficial.
The real issue here is that women are punished by patriarchy for being bisexual. That our bisexuality is perceived as such a threat to cishet masculinity that physical violence seems an appropriate response to it. That women’s bisexuality is a punishable crime.
This whole discussion demonstrates the power dynamics around women’s bisexuality and the depth of sapphobia (misogyny against bi women) in society. The terms of the discussion should move beyond apologetics (i.e. we don’t deserve this) and into in-depth explorations of why this violence is perceived as acceptable.
he’s actually fine, this species secretes a flesh-glue so he can open himself up, scrape parasites out, and close himself back up. however he is not excited about it
A Seattle-area man was given a 26 ½-year prison term for waging a 17-year campaign of harassment against a former classmate he met in middle school. Prosecutors are calling this the longest sentence forstalking in memory.
Shawn Moul, 31, passively accepted the sentence last week which came about six months after being convicted on two felony counts of stalking and 19 counts of violating anti-harassment orders.
Moul began stalking classmate Tracy Lundeen in 1994, shortly after Lundeen saw him at the school library struggling with his homework and offered to help him. Lundeen said Moul began following her and wrote her more than 100 letters, alternately threatening her and vowing to kill himself. He also contacted Lundeen’s family members, demanding that she contact him.
