this spell is for the dude
who moves like a fucking danger sign.
the bro whose whole aura screams:
“if love doesn’t work out, i’ll just try murder.”
✨🪦✨
girl.
this wasn’t a husband.
this wasn’t a partner.
this was a true crime miniseries audition
nobody asked for.
he wasn’t giving “provider” —
he was giving p diddy-but-make-it-broke,
a familicide speed-run without the budget or the personality.
✨
i cast this working in honor of:
🕯️ every detective who whispered “jesus christ” looking at my file
🕯️ every ER nurse who already knew the story before i spoke
🕯️ every bestie who said “did he give you those bruises” while i said “maybe he’s stressed”
🕯️every screenshot that aged better than his frontal lobe
this man is giving:
🔥unstable stan of his own downfall
🔥cocaine-influenced community theater villain
🔥“if i can’t have you, my defense lawyer will draft something insane”
✨
for the record:
men like this are dangerous.
i fear letting stupid men write my obituary,
and i simply fucking refuse.
so here’s the spell:
🧿 may every attempt he makes to contact me
get intercepted like the Broncos’ best play all season.
🧿 may every threat, manipulation, or bullshit apology
boomerang back into a new fucking record.
🧿 may every woman he tries to fool
spot the “p diddy indictment energy” radiating off him.
🧿 may every violent impulse he gets
be redirected into something harmless,
like cleaning a prison floor.
✨
you are not my soulmate.
you are not the love of my life.
you are the reason safety planning exists.
the human embodiment of “why women disappear.”
a familicide wannabe who flunked out of the final exam.
✨
poof — banished.
from my home,
my child,
my narrative,
my fucking sleep schedule.
deleted harder than your phone after a cheating spree. 👻
this spell is permanent.
this protection is cosmic and court-mandated.
this bitch does not negotiate with men who turn into murder statistics.
🧿 lose the fantasy.
🧿 lose the access.
🧿 lose the delusion that you’ll ever get near us again.
