#any two things are a terror

[skunkes]

i loooove when ocs unrealized development makes them feel like real people like no i dont know whether talon is genuinely attracted to women after years of both clinging to them for safety and years of putting them onto that untouchable idealized Perfect Protector Pedestal that must remain untainted by any bad experiences, so he doesn't even try to Be With any. He doesn't know either

[plounce]

my emoooootional issues and my physical iiiintimacy issuuuues

[saints-who-never-existed]

For the ask game: least favourite Terror character 🫣😢

Fuuuck, I didn't expect this to be quite so difficult - I've been thinking about it for days!

Honestly? Incredibly unpopular opinion, but my gut-answers are Crozier and Hickey, at least as far as major characters go (as previously mentioned, I sometimes have a hard time engaging with the storylines of certain more minor characters like Sophia and Lady Jane).

Just to be clear, I DO NOT hate Crozier or Hickey. I enjoy thinking about them at great length, I find them to be fantastic, engaging characters, and I very much subscribe to the idea that they can be fantastic and engaging without having to be good people.

But with all that said - FUCK ME, are they not good people, and fuck me do I find that fact so hard to get past sometimes!

[bearfeathers]

no but the way halloween (2018) restores to michael myers the identity of the shape and the boogeyman is just 🤌

[lasarcasticpanda]

i think i figured out part of what makes most social media unappealing to me. its this endless state of being perceived (or the illusion of the endless state of being perceived sometimes). not about important shit, because dont care, but about the smaller bits that make up a person. if you're on the subway or walking somewhere or driving, plenty of people can see you and perceive you and make a ton of dumb judgements about your hair or your clothes or your looks or car or whatever dumb arbitrary things. but then you're gone and they're gone and theres a very solid chance you never even heard or saw them, so their comments and pass-by calls don't even register. but on social media, everything just sits there. it's a museum where people can come by and constantly perceive you, every version of you that you've ever put on social media and make a stream of never-ending comments and statements and judgements. and its weird, because the things i deem important, i don't really care what is said about that, because its not something that's easily moved or jarred by someone else's opinion, but the things that are unimportant or specific to me, i am not a big fan of that being under a level of constant scrutiny. and its something about social media specifically that gets me - people who do it for a living or a job, i think i could handle that (for the most part, it would be insufferable at times and get to be Too Much in a lot of situations), because you can almost prepare yourself for it? this is my job, i put myself out there regularly, these are some of the nasty side effects due to no fault of my own but still, prepare. but social media you use for fun, you dont really do that preparation, nor should you and im not sure how often it's considered how much of yourself is just permanently there now. for random passerby to see, think, and make comments wherever you can see them and then you're reminded of the version of yourself from a dumb part of your life that you felt no particular way about but now this joe nobody makes a passing comment and you're now restructuring what you feel about this time in the context of this innocuous comment.

idk i don't think im meant for that lol

[blackvahana]

Hmm. Yeah. Didn't consider the fact that they were going to attempt (and did) to kill Grey and Black in my lifetime. so then M absolutely could've just taken my body, killed my physical family like he kept trying to do, and either offed me or kept - I mean. yeah. kept my body and made it an incarnation of him. Ahhh I love our family

[connormoving]

tangentially prev i literally used to get stressed out when i was a kid bc like i knew animals had different lifespans than people and id lie awake and id be like . if a deer was born in the wild at the same moment as me itd probably be dead by now . and id get so stressed out abt it

[jaxon-exe]

That’s your dad?!?

First up, this is set centuries into the future. Danny is the ghost king and ancient of space and has taken Ellie (I like that name for her better) in as his daughter.

As is normal for all families, Danny and Ellie don’t always agree on everything. One particular point of contention between the two is Danny being overprotective. She understands that it’s in his nature as a protector spirt but that doesn’t make it any less annoying to have him hovering over her all the time. Just because she’s eternally 12 doesn’t mean she’s defenceless.

After one particularly bad fight between the two she flies off into a random dimension to get some space. The dimension she ends up in being the dc one. After awhile a just exploring and following the heroes of this world she has an idea. What better way to show to her dad that she can handle herself than by becoming a hero?

She introduces herself to the heroes of this world and (after confirming with JLD that she is in fact a ghost and she does in fact have good interiors) ends up joining one of the younger teams (I’m parcel to YJ but teen titans works to)

Now here’s the thing about Ellie. Just like her dad she sucks at explaining things. It just isn’t her strong suit. So when one of them asks about her death, she (after explaining they shouldn’t ask that) explains that she’s a neverborn. She never died, she’s just always been a ghost. Later on when someone asks her how neverborns come to exist she gives the ‘ectoplasm forming about an idea or concept’ explaining and completely forget to mention that’s not the only way.

Needless to say, the team think she doesn’t have parents. Especially adding on the fact she’s still a little pissed at Danny so doesn’t talk about him.

This lead to them being very confused when, in the middle of a huge alien invasion that they were very much about to lose, Ellie yells out “DAD!!!”

That confusion turns into terror when the night sky itself opens its eyes.

[dontmixpaintinyourcoffee]

This one goes out to all the bitches who love some good Safehouse Era Horror. It's me, I'm bitches. I want Jon and Martin to be fucked up and eldritch but I want them to be fucked up and eldritch and loved

(Notes under the cut because I can't help myself. Heads up, I do go into some detail of how Jon gets injured so I can explain my thought process for how I designed his scars. All canon-typical and fairly clinical in tone.)

Here's how I picture Safehouse Jon!

He doesn't need glasses anymore by this point, so he should just be wearing empty frames, but I drew this before I settled on my glasses headcanons. This drawing looks better with the reflection anyways.

He hasn't gotten a haircut since before his promotion to Head Archivist. He doesn't love the weight of it on his neck, but he also uses it to fidget, and he really doesn't want to go through the whole process of cutting it. He's disliked haircuts since he was a kid (People: Bad. Small talk: Bad. Touching: Bad. Loud sounds: Bad. People talking all at once: Bad) and since his time with the Circus he's only grown more reluctant to go and get it done.

At this length his hair is naturally pretty curly but he is. Not taking care of it. I actually put a lot of effort into trying to make it look brittle and tangled (I have a lot of experience lol, my hair is quite thick and I've always hated taking care of it. Yes I am also projecting my feelings about going to a hairdressers onto him why do you ask.)

The various scars were a bit of a strange task, but anyone who has seen my takes on The Bad Kids knows I'm not averse to selective realism in my fiction. Easiest one was the neck, I always pictured Daisy making a vertical cut based on "through the voice box". The larynx is longer than it is wide, so I think Daisy would go for the method that dealt damage across the largest total surface area. Yes I am aware that I'm speaking the same way Martin does when he explains his corkscrew.

The worm scars were easy because I barely drew any. There are a few marks on his cheek, but they're just surface bites. I picture most of his encounter with Prentiss showing on his legs, particularly on the right side, with enough damage there that he starts using a cane after the incident to keep weight off his right leg. More research to be done on this particular detail.

Finally the burn on his hand from Jude. This was the weirdest one to figure out just because of the nature of the injury. How do you quantify the damage done to an epidermis by a living manifestation of sometimes-boiling wax that can heat and cool at will? I settled on it being a second-degree burn that healed supernaturally fast, containing the damage to the space Jude had direct contact with. He'd probably have some mobility issues there as well. I know there are ways to help with mobility and pain after a severe burn, but I don't know how much of it Jon would actually. Do. Like I said, definitely further research to be done on these last two.

Hey so I'm gonna ask you to stop and consider the horror of the watcher. The helplessness. The guilt. The inherent terror of being a spectator, a participant by proximity but not by action. The horror of not being able to look away, of being a bystander. Jon forgets to blink sometimes. But wouldn't it be so much worse if there were no eyelids at all? That's how I interpret the description of The Archivist being "All Eyes" :D

I love a good Many-Eyed Jon, so I whipped up my own interpretation here. I think the more he Becomes the more he starts to resemble the thing from the dreams. He has a lot more control of it in S5, but it still creeps up on him and he has to consciously go back to a human shape.

[mad-hunts]

👄 + Scarecrow

there's a pause from barton, or THE DOLLMAKER, as he was currently dressed in all of the garb appropriate to his namesake upon being asked about the complicated case that was jonathan crane. a displeased hum left his lips then as if the act of just mentioning him was bothersome to him — and truthfully, gauging by what he said next, it might have very well been, ❝ ugh. you can't tell because i'm wearing my mask, but i'm rolling my eyes right now. if i tell you how i feel about him, then will you finally leave me alone? i'm busy, you know, ❞ barton's voice was very matter-of-fact as he spoke, though it was raised a degree, like he wanted to make sure whoever this was who was asking him this would hear him. he leaned forward towards them with his hands gripping the autopsy table in front of himself.

❝ i think he squandered his potential the moment he decided to pursue the very unreachable goal that is conquering his own fears, and so, i don't know whether i want to grimace at him every single time i see him or simply avoid him. because fear is something that is engrained in us, and without it, we'd all likely be dead. so by pursuing a way to find out how to remove this very necessary thing we have for survival... it makes him look like he's incredibly ignorant because it's something that doesn't need to be conquered, in my opinion, and so he isn't exactly using his 'smarts' effectively. which is why i consider him a waste of potential; he's just going to keep on running in circles for eternity trying to find a way to get rid of it. but what do i know, i'm not a psychologist like he is. ❞

there's an important distinction there as barton referred to him as a psychologist in the present tense rather than the past tense. barton's mask suddenly creased in the furrow between his brows as if he were getting annoyed, ❝ i also think he's an uppity asshole who acts like he's a lot more important than he actually is, but i have to say... and don't tell him i said this because the last thing i need is for him to think we're suddenly friends; i do somewhat respect him at the same time. he does seem like a really intelligent man, but like i said; if he'd just ditch the whole ' i have to conquer my own fear ' thing, he would so much better off. i suppose he has been kind of drifting away from that in recent times, though, but not nearly enough. he is also someone who likes experimenting on people and exploiting their fears because he likes to feel as if he's being taken seriously and like he's big, powerful. so it was out of insecurity that he started making his toxin at all. or, at least, that's how i see it. ❞

barton shrugged his shoulders slightly and turned around to have his back pressed against the table. whether this was on purpose or not was unclear, but he could've been doing it to hide his reaction to what he was going to talk about next, ❝ i think he himself still has some beef with me over the incident me and him had in arkham. which is fine, of course, i don't really care. but it has been a while since i took that needle and thread to his lips because he really does have the widest smile. and it makes me physically want to squirm whenever i see it because i just... want to fix it. it's too wide, you know. i suppose it's probably likely he remains hung up over it to this day because i didn't use anesthesia, ❞ barton flipped his whole body around then, a bit of a twisted snort leaving his lips. ❝ but where are you going to get that in arkham? they don't even let us see the dentist half the time, so you know. i had to improvise. but anyway, does that answer your question? ❞

[aroaceofthesea]

Today was so funny i asked my uni friends what made saint george's story a love story and i loved their slow realization of well... He gave her a rose.... Oh

[differenteagletragedy]

In which Simon Riley meets a distressed single mom at the park and is immediately LOCKED IN.

Here's Part Two and Part Three and Part Four and Part Five and Part Six and Part Seven and Part Eight and Part Nine :)

Simon likes going for walks.

It's an easy way to eat up time when he's on leave -- every minute he's walking is another minute he doesn't have to sit staring at the walls in his cold, dull apartment. And this way, he gets to see all sorts of things, trees and flowers, beautiful buildings and people that he passes by so quickly that he can almost convince himself they're beautiful too.

He doesn't think highly enough of himself to believe that he can truly have any of these things. That's why his apartment is bare bones, sparsely furnished with only the necessities, nothing even close to a frill in sight. But on his walks, he can catch little glimpses. He's been telling himself for so long that this is enough that most of the time, he believes it.

Then he met you. And now, suddenly none of it matters -- what he believes he deserves, what he thinks he can get by with, none of it. Because for the first time in a long time, maybe ever, he's filled with such an exquisite, excruciating rush of want that it drowns out everything else, floods all the ugly little nooks and crannies in his mind and his heart until all that's left is you.

It happened at the park. Not the big one he walks by sometimes in the nicer part of town, with its brand new shiny jungle gym and the constant crowd of children and parents and nannies and noise -- no, it was at the small little rundown one closer to home. The one that's almost always vacant, which is probably one of the reasons why he noticed you there.

Another, much more notable reason would be the way you were nearly screeching, your voice filled with panic and fear as you stood by one of the tall slides.

Simon heard you from a distance, and when he was close enough to see you, it was easy enough to figure out why. You were standing there, your belly big and swollen with child, looking up at a little boy with your complexion and hair color as he stood by the railing of the steps leading up to the slide.

"Get down right this instant," he heard you hiss when he snuck even closer. "Charlie, i swear to God, this isn't funny, get down."

The boy, with a playful, terrorizing little smile Simon could make out from a distance, shook his head, replying, "You come get me."

And there was the problem. You couldn't get up the narrow little staircase of that part of the playground with your pregnant belly, and the boy wouldn't come down on his own. Simon surveyed the park once more, but he already knew there was no one else there. You were alone, no husband to step in and take care of things.

At this point, he was strolling along the sidewalk beside the park, trying to decide if he wanted to help or not. On one hand, you seemed a little desperate, but on the other, he didn't want to frighten you even more. He knows how imposing he can be, and at least in these kinds of situations, he's mindful of it.

Then he hears it: a frustrated, choked little sob from you. That made up his mind.

"All right?" he asked carefully, slowly approaching you.

You jumped at the sound of his voice, your hand instinctively going to cradle your bump, then glanced back up at the boy.

"We're fine," you told Simon. "We're just waiting on my husband to come back, then we'll call it a day."

It was a weak lie -- he'd already clocked that you weren't wearing a wedding ring, nor did you have a tan line there, but even if he didn't go on that, you were just not a good liar. He might have laughed at your attempt to brush him off, but then little boy put his hands on the railing and leaned over it to greet him, and your nervous gasp brought him back to the situation at hand.

"Charlie, stop," you barked, an authoritative mom voice if he'd ever heard one. But Charlie, it seemed, was a headstrong little thing, and he simply laughed and began jumping, apparently not noticing or caring that his reckless behavior was causing you so much stress.

"Could get him down for you, if you like."

He didn't know why he said that. Why he even thought to offer. But you looked up at him, really looked at him with those wide, teary eyes, and he knew he'd do that and so much more, if only you'd let him.

"I can't ... it's ok, you don't have to do that," you replied, still hesitant to accept the help from the big, bulking stranger.

"'Course I don't have to," he answered simply. "Just trying to help."

You glance between him and the boy once more, and you even give Charlie one more chance to listen and come down on his own, but he just shrieked with laughter, pleased to be the center of attention, so you just sighed and gave Simon a nod.

He easily climbs up the tall metal structure, squeezing his wide body up the narrow steps to where the boy stood. Then he stopped.

He's not a people person by any stretch of the imagination, so of course he's not a kid person either. He's never interacted with them much, so as stilted and closed-off as he is with most adults, he's even more clueless with children.

He didn't know if he should pick him up and carry him down to you, maybe push him to the slide to get down that way. He also considered that maybe he shouldn't even touch him at all, but that left talking to the kid, which didn't sound great either.

Luckily for Simon, Charlie was chatty enough for both of them.

"Never seen you here before," he told Simon. "You're too big for the slides."

"Not here for the slide," he said, his gaze drifting back to you where you stood below, watching anxiously. "Why don't you get back down there before you give your poor mum a heart attack?"

"I'm not supposed to listen to strangers."

"That so?" Simon asked. "Supposed to listen to your mum though, yeah?"

That easy bit of logic seemed to trip Charlie up, and Simon smirked, then nodded to the slide.

"Go on, then."

The child let out a dramatic sigh, then climbed the rest of the way up the steps and went down the slide. Simon watched you rush to the bottom of it, swiftly grabbing his hand when it came within reach.

"Thank you so much," you told him when he climbed his way back to the ground, your earlier trepidation gone, seemingly with relief. "He usually listens better than that, and I couldn't ..."

"No need," he said gruffly, cutting off your explanation. "Just glad I could help."

You gave him a smile, and just for a moment, he let himself think of things he never allowed himself to imagine. A life in which he not only had a family, but this family -- a family where you, the boy, and the baby in your belly all belonged to him.

That's when the wanting started. And now, nearly two weeks later, Simon finds himself walking past the park, again and again, hoping to find you there. Hoping to ease the gnawing little ache that began knocking around his chest that day, to see what he now believes could be the most beautiful thing this ugly world has to offer.

[amjad20011]

Urgent 🚨 A Call to action⚡ Please help us change our future.

Imagine yourself in a war zone for more than 220 days, displaced at least 4 times, suffering from a lack of water, food, and medicine, and also suffering from the terror of losing your life or the life of your beloved ones.

Well this is not the worst you can imagine.

Imagine having a two and a half year old child who is as wonderful as a pure angel and living in those conditions.

Well, that's not the worst thing you can imagine.

Imagine experiencing 4 wars in the same region and just thinking about this little angel living in similar circumstances.

I'm really writing with my heart melting for our future and i really don't want my little angel Ahmed to live the same circumstances that i lived.

I have created a campaign on GoFundMe to collect the necessary expenses to leave the danger zone.

Here's the link to my campaign

Please don't understimate any donation you can give, every donation matter a lot.

Your generosity can change the future of an innocent little angel.

You can also check this post

[bunnis-monsters]

NSFW

cw: dubcon, size difference, belly bulge

Getting trapped in a dark cave had been scary enough WITHOUT the gigantic titanoboa naga staring at you from the entrance.

“Mmm…”

He slithered closer, laying flat on his belly so he could get a good look at you. His tongue flicked out, lapping at your cheek.

You were too terrified to scream or run away, so you stared up at him in terror. Though he was huge, he made no moves to crush or swallow you whole.

“How cute…”

A strange purring sound filled the cave as he flicked his forked tongue out again. His lower half rubbed against the cave ground, and two cocks sprung out of his slit.

He tilted his head, blinking before reaching out pick you up by the back of your shirt. Now, you struggled like your life depended on it.

“N-no, please don’t! Let me go!”

This was it, you were going to be devoured whole! You squeezed your eyes shut, ready for the worst…

But instead of being swallowed, you felt something warm and stuck slide between your thighs, rubbing against your soft skin. The naga grunted, his body vibrating with purrs as he moved your back and forth.

When you opened your eyes, your face became hot with embarrassment as you realized the situation you were in.

He was rubbing you against one of his cocks while he pumped the other in his hand. His face was flushed, his cocks leaking precum.

“W-what are you doing!?”

You whined, one of the cocks kept pressing against your panties, his precum soaking through the thin fabric. It was almost shameful how good his cum smelled…

“Getting you ready to breed…”

Your panties were easily ripped off, the very tip of one of his cock rubbing against your hole, tiny compared to the thing he wanted to shove in you.

“Y-you can’t, it won’t fit!”

He nuzzled his head against your face. If he had been any less gentle, he may have broken your neck.

“Doesn’t have to fit…”

With that, he began pushing the very tip in, slowly thrusting it into you. You yelped at the sudden stretch, barely able to fit the tip at all in your small, fat cunt.

“C-can’t!” You blubbered, whining as he continued rubbing and thrusting against you. “Too much!”

But… as the pain began to ease, you started to feel… strange. The smell of his cum, thick and heavy in the air had your pussy drooling. You wanted it, wanted to be bred by both of his cocks.

When he flicked his tongue out to catch your scent again, he made a happy sound, his cocks twitching in excitement. His little mate was enjoying this, you were aroused!

“That’s it, little one… just take it. I’ll fill you up, don’t worry your pretty little head…”

Your belly bulged with his cum as it spurted into your womb, filling you up and making you cream all over the tip of his cock.

He seemed absolutely enamored with how round and soft you were after taking his load, curling up around you and using his soft chest you keep you comfortable.

“Oh, so precious… you’ll give me the cutest little hatchlings, won’t you?”

Earlier that day you had been exploring the jungle with some friends, and now you were mated to the mythical Titanoboa Naga…

Life sure is strange.

———————

NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat

[timetravellingkitty]

everyday i see clueless westerners (especially white people) peddle thinly veiled hindutva propaganda which they wouldn't know cause they know absolutely nothing about what goes on in india. so here are some signs that that the person you're talking to is a hindu nationalist:

they either do not acknowledge casteism or claim that caste is a western construct. my personal favourite however is dismissing anyone bringing up caste discrimination by saying that the indian constitution outlaws untouchability. they may also bring up the fact that the prime minister belongs to an other backwards class (obc) so clearly india has moved on from caste and hindutva isn't only for the upper castes. they possess a shallow understanding of caste

harping on about "islamic colonisation" : no, the mughals did not colonise india. when you point this out, they will immediately assume that you think muslim invaders were innocent beings who did nothing wrong, which is very much not what anyone is claiming here

while we're on the topic of "islamic colonisation" they will also refer to the demolishing of muslim sites of heritage and worship and then building hindu temples over them as "decolonisation" (cough cough ram mandir) the hindu right also goes around pretending that they're the indigenous people of india

along a similar vein, they will dismiss islamophobia by bringing up instances of hindu oppression in countries like pakistan and bangladesh. it is true that hindus are persecuted in these two countries, however they are used to fuel their oppression complex, that their upper caste hindu self is under attack in india of all places (think a white christian in the united states). you should be in solidarity with minorities everywhere. it is neither transactional or conditional (note: they will never bring up sri lanka. persecution of hindus exists only when the oppressors are muslim)

claiming that hindu nationalism and hindutva are not the same because hindutva means "hindu-ness". that is only the literal translation of the term. like it or not, they're the same thing

they support the indian military occupation of kashmir. they will call it an integral part of kashmir, one reason which will be "hinduism is indigenous to kashmir." they will also bring up the last maharaja of kashmir signing the instrument of accession as further proof, as if the consent of the people was taken

they're zionists. do i even need to explain this. hindutva is just zionism for hindus

they refer to buddhism and jainism (sikhism too sometimes) as branches of hinduism rather than separate, distinct religions

they condemn any resistance to the indian govt as a burden or terrorism (like calling the farmers who are currently protesting a hindrance or terrorists. funny how sikhs are the same as hindus when they support hindu causes but terrorists when they resist oppression...)

they call you a pseudo liberal or a fake leftist. i'm telling you, they don't know jackshit. they can't even tell the difference between a liberal and a leftist and call US unread lmao. bonus points if they call you a liberandu or a sickular 💀

they call india "bharat" when they talk in english. there are in fact multiple indian languages that call india bharat or bharatam, but if they say bharat while talking in english, that is absolutely a hindu nationalist no questions asked

please do your due diligence. read up on hindutva. hindu nationalists have already started making gains in the united states, thanks to rich upper caste nris. do not fall for propaganda

[tanadrin]

@grimogretricks

For people saying that airport security is wholly theatre and that it doesn't do any good- certainly it seems they've gone overboard on certain things, but what is your explanation as to why hijackings and terrorist attacks involving planes are MUCH less common than they used to be?

Sorry that this is mostly off the dome, and has less references than I would like. We argued this stuff to death in the aughts, though ultimately the political incentives in favor of security theater were just too great. Everyone is terrified of the potential backlash of not being seen to do enough in advance of the next big terrorist attack, I guess. And to be clear, we are talking mostly about post-9/11 airport security measures as being security theater. Some degree of airport security has been necessary since people started getting on airplanes with guns and informing the pilot that, hey, guess what, we're going to Cuba instead of Miami today.

But the big reduction in airplane hijackings came with the institution of metal detectors to keep guns off airplanes after a couple high-profile hijackings in the 1970s. But remember that these incidents were of a very different character than what we now think of as the risk to airplanes: they were certainly a problem, but the modus operandi of hijackers in this era was to force the plane to fly to a non-extradition country and land safely. 9/11-style hijackings, that used the plane as a bomb and killed everyone aboard, were on nobody's radar--when the goal was blowing up the plane and killing passengers, bombers generally used bombs planted in checked baggage, which requires different security measures from passenger screening.

Two security changes occurred after 9/11 that made future such hijackings basically impossible: one, probably most importantly, was that passengers understood they no longer could count on hijackers having an interest in surviving the hijacking. This change in passenger behavior was immediate: later that same year when a guy tried to bomb an airplane (using a really ineffective device hidden in his shoe) passengers immediately acted to restrain him. The second important change was reinforcing cockpit doors and keeping them locked: this makes hijacking airplanes with knives (the only major modality left to most would-be hijackers) functionally impossible.

All the other intense passenger screening and security measures implemented after 9/11 has been repeatedly shown by security researchers to be pretty ineffective, not even very reliable at stuff like keeping knives off airplanes. For years after 9/11 there were endless news stories about law enforcement running drills at airports and weapons making their way through security. A lot of later security measures, like liquid limits in carry-on baggage, came from terrorist plots that didn't even make it off the drawing board (and are unlikely to have ever worked anyway), and seem mostly to be overzealous ass-covering by transportation security officials.

And, finally, we should note that the real security threats to airplanes in the post-9/11 era seem to have come come from two sources that are basically impossible to protect against using traditional security methods, and for which passenger-based security screening is useless: anti-aircraft missiles and suicidal pilots (plus an honorable mention to aircraft companies trying to skirt certain regulatory requirements).

Despite what decades of American media would have you believe, elaborate plots targeting transportation infrastructure and involving like a dozen people are actually not at the top of the list of terrorist methodologies--why time and money training members of your organization to fly planes into buildings, when you can just use social media to convince a guy to drive a car into a crowd of bystanders, or stab somebody on the street? It's much cheaper, and much, much harder to guard against. Random lone-wolf terrorism is, unlike the kind of elaborate plots portrayed on TV, and one-off real-life examples like 9/11, basically impossible for security services to guard against in advance. But in order to justify the war on terror, and large budgets for security services on anti-terrorism grounds, it was necessary to play up the threat of such plots, even if by its very nature 9/11 was impossible to repeat. For similar reasons, the post-9/11 era also played up the threat of Islamic extremism and large overseas terrorist networks, even though far-right extremists acting in small groups also have managed to kill huge numbers of people in spectacular ways.

So for all these reasons, and those noted at the top, the political incentives around transportation security means that passenger screening measures in airports are almost guaranteed to be a one-way ratchet, even if they don't work. It's a bit like the fabled anti-tiger amulet--it's easy to say the lack of tigers is proof it's working! Even if the real reason there are no tigers about is that you live in Ohio. The media environment post-War on Terror helped create a public appetite for and approval of such anti-tiger amulets, too, of course. This was not by any means a purely top-down phenomenon.