#because it is very easy (and horrifying!) to accept that the true ones are in fact true

[kindaasrikal]

Garmadon is probably my favourite example of how intrusive thoughts are like.

Is he a little yellow (black?) lego man with cup hands? Yes

Is he also someone whose suffered from intrusive thoughts and desires that he does not want to do since young, and due to suffering through them for so long his resolve eventually broke to these thoughts as he became the one thing he never wanted to be? Yes, yes he is.

For decades upon decades he had to sit with thoughts and desires he knew was bad and had to actively resist against. Dealing with intrusive thoughts is not easy, seeing as it depends on a persons will power, their own self acceptance and awareness on who they are, and how persistent they can be.

With Garmadon, he had to deal with the shame knowing that everyone most close too him knows he has these thoughts and desires and that can way down on a persons self esteem and will/resilience, especially when you seem to be surrounded by someone seemingly ‘perfect’. No one actively shamed Garmadon for having these thoughts (from what i know, though Wu definitely hasn’t) but he probably had more thoughts about how everyone must be mocking him. With the intrusive thoughts getting worse as he grew older, and as his responsibilities grew heavier, there were a few times where Garmadon’s morals and resolve wavered.

Now remember, Garmadon probably already was a grey character (light grey) without the venom strongly influencing him because of the world he grew up in as well as having horrific thoughts since young, which could lead to a sense on normalcy of the content of them. Which could’ve led him to his actions and overall personality being incredibly light grey. The times he wavered were few in between, and i can’t list them all off since i haven’t read the comics, but the most notable one was when he went to go train under Chen.

The reason he might’ve done so could be a few. Due to Chen’s evil nature, he might’ve thought that it might help him in easing and handling these thoughts better. Or it might’ve been a lapse in judgment, or his morals tipping slightly to the darker side.

After all these sort of moments where he almost tipped to the darker side, something just had to give and push him over the edge of finally breaking his already weak grip on his will power to resist against these thoughts, and whatever it was broke it well. He attempted to steal the golden weapons, Kill Wu, and unlock his Oni side, despite having a baby and a wife at the time. And thats not to say Garmadon doesn’t care for those three. He’s shown time and time again that he does. He cares for all three of them and loves them as family. Yet, that doesn’t stop the grip of his intrusive thoughts, nor the easing of suffering mentally once he stopped pushing it down. He’s shown he cares for Wu like how a brother would (like a little shi, though i would say that Garmadon is much more willing to kill Wu then the other two), and he’s shown interest in Misako as a lover (no, i will not forget that straight up grin of his) and how he hasn’t actively sought her out to harm her, and how he has held back against Lloyd, only ever grew and broke free of these thoughts and desires because of Lloyd, and only ever found his true self and freedom and acceptance because of Lloyd.

Garmdon is very much capable of capable of holding back his evil desires and wants when he is given the right reason too, and that reason has always been his family as his SON. His BABY. THATS HIS KID.

But, Garmadon may have special genes and magic powers, but his brain is like any other humans. He was no longer able to fully resist the venom in his veins nor the thoughts in his head as strongly as he used too, because he is no longer young. He is an old man whose whole life was spent resisting a side of him he was horrified at, yet a side of him who he would never be able to truly hide nor resist, when that terrifying demon in his head is still a part of him.

I would like to say though, that while the intrusive thoughts themselves were evil and horrible and straight up terrifying, Garmadon himself never was that kinda person. Theres a reason why Lloyd is his son and why Misako chose him, and why Wu still respects his brother so much. Garmadon is a good person, in a situation he cannot control and a brain he cannot stop. Intrusive thoughts are not things you willingly think, they’re like a stampede of people running up to the microphone to give their own bright ideas all at once, all of the time, and you’re the only audience they talk to. Garmadon was subjected to that since he was a child, and that isn’t easy. The fact that he lasted so long, so many decades, resisting against them and holding himself true to his ideals and true personality is mesmerising to witness and think about. And to think that he can still resist, and then understand and grow with that side of him into a healthier and happier person who is trying, is definitely something he and everyone he ever grew close too wished for, for a very long time.

[oldwritingm]

Helloooo!!! Congratulations on 400 followers and may God bless you to have many more celebrations to come! For me (since I can't choose): Zane, Cole, or Lloyd with either Arcade by Duncan Laurence or Hold on by Chord Overstreet

(pick what you please and have much fun with this!)

Tysm, you're so sweet!! I ended up choosing Cole and Hold On if that's okay :]

Ninjago - Hold On (Cole) (400 follower event)

You really shouldn’t have been there in the first place.

When Cole told you to stay back, you were about to listen; but he just had to add that bit about it being “too dangerous.” 

The minute you heard that, there was no way you were staying behind. You told yourself it was because you were worried about Cole, but deep down you knew it had something to do with your pride, too.

And now here you were, rushing into an impossible battle with no plan whatsoever. Well, perhaps that wasn’t true; the plan was as follows: Save Cole.

And that was the last thought in your head as you rushed to place yourself between your love and a killing blow delivered by his adversary.

Cole had been losing. His adversary—a particularly nasty Oni—was far bigger than him, far fiercer, far scarier—but none of that had put him off. He knew he was strong. And he was naturally a very hopeful person, so any doubts he might’ve been having were buried beneath that mountain of self-encouragement.

Unfortunately this meant that he was blind to the situation at hand, which was actually quite bleak and rapidly becoming bleaker.

He couldn’t land a single blow, and he was only pushed further and further back by the second. Soon he’d be cornered against a cliff, and then he’d really be trapped.

But none of this came to his mind. Underneath that cap of thick black hair there was nothing but burning determination. That, and you. 

He pushed even harder every time you came to his mind. He swung harder when he remembered your laugh, jumped higher at the image of your smile. But it wasn’t enough. The Oni raised its wretched weapon high above its head and swung.

Cole put up his arm, accepting at the last second that this was it for him. He waited for the pain, or perhaps it’d happen so fast that he wouldn’t even feel any pain, and the white light waiting to embrace him.

It didn’t come. Instead, the sound of your voice filled his ears. Thinking he must’ve been hallucinating, having passed into the afterlife already, he opened one eye deliberately. The white light he’d hoped to see wasn’t there. What was there was you, on the ground, not moving. 

The Oni was grinning its terrible grin, clearly pleased at Cole’s horrified expression. It made to come after him next, but at the sound of a war horn it turned and ran, sending one last taunting sneer at Cole. It’d done its damage. It was satisfied.

Cole hardly noticed the Oni from the moment his eyes had opened. He dropped to the ground, taking your body in his arms. He scooped you up against him desperately, as if being on the ground was hurting you more. He brushed a lock of hair from your face, squeezing your jaw as he turned your limp head to face him.

“Y/n!” He shouted, voice dripping with terror.

He gave you a once-over, frowning deeply at the gash across your chest. It was bleeding quite badly, and Cole was scared to even touch it.

“Y/n, please don’t be—!” His hand shook as it grasped your wrist. He tried to remember where you were supposed to look for a pulse, but his panicked mind could recall nothing, so he just wrapped his whole hand around it, hoping to feel something.

“No, no, no…”

He tried your neck. He still couldn’t remember where exactly to feel for a pulse, and his hands were only trembling more and more by the second, which wasn’t making it easy.

“Come on!” He cursed, swiping the tears from his eyes.

He tried to watch your chest for breathing, but his eyes kept drifting to that long slash seeping dark fluid, and nausea found him instead of the clarity he needed to focus. So he went back for another attempt at finding a pulse on your wrist.

“Please, Y/n! Don’t be—!”

His throat tightened, and he had to wipe his eyes again. Cursing to himself, he dropped your wrist defeatedly. 

“I told you to stay back!” He snapped, immediately regretting it and pressing your body to his chest. His voice was weak as a child’s when he rasped: “Why didn’t you listen?”

He didn’t wallow for long. With a resolute sniff he jumped up, you still in his arms, determined to save you.

“Hang on, Y/n. You can’t… not yet. I still need you.”

He tried to walk steadily, avoiding roots and rocks to keep from jostling you. He kept glancing at that horrid wound on your chest, wondering if this was the thing that was going to take you from him. He cursed that dark line, cursed it a million times and then some more. Get off my Y/n. You can’t have them.

When you next became aware of yourself, the first thing that registered was a fuzzy feeling in your head and a heavy feeling in your body. You felt your weight pressing into a mattress, a mattress that had the upper half angled so that you were sitting partially upright.

The sound of beeping could be heard as you opened your eyes. It was a slow, rhythmic beeping—like something you’d hear in a hospital. Oh. I guess that’s where I am, you thought as you were immediately blinded by bright white lights.

You looked around the room, your mind struggling to register the machines and cabinets. Why was it so hard to think straight..?

Your eyes landed on a black mass hunched in a chair by the door. Two dark hands were gripping locks of thick, black hair. You blinked slowly, knowing that you knew this person but unable to pin exactly who it was.

“Cole…” The noise came out of your mouth softly, and not entirely voluntarily. It was as if you were trying to remind yourself who it was as much as you were beckoning to him.

His head snapped up, and you could see that his eyes were red and puffy. He ran across the room, dropping to his knees so quickly beside your bed that you almost winced.

“Don’t… hurt yourself,” you slurred, frowning at the effort it took to speak.

Cole shook his head, taking your hand in his. “Look who’s talking.” He smiled sadly, fresh tears brimming his eyes as he looked you over once again.

“I’m sorry.”

“No. Please don’t say that. I’m just glad you’re alive.” He pressed a lingering kiss on your hand, holding it to his cheek while he gazed at you lovingly. There was pain in his eyes, but relief and affection stirred much more prominently in those dark depths.

“I’m glad you’re alive too. When I saw the Oni… I thought…” You huffed, closing your eyes and furrowing your brow. “I thought to myself: not yet. I still need him.” 

Cole laughed suddenly, and you blinked owlishly at him. “What’s so funny?”

He was wiping tears from his eyes; sad or happy ones, you weren’t sure. “I was thinking the same thing about you.”

Now you smiled, understanding the sad irony of the situation. “Oh. Well, I guess we understand each other then. No dying allowed.”

Cole nodded, standing up to press a kiss to your temple. “That, I can agree to.”

Thanks for participating in our event!! And thank you for reading, take care doves <33

(divider by saradika)

[katyspersonal]

Abyss Watchers headcanons

> Them all having white hair and red eyes are the signs of a lot of exposure to the Abyss, like how Four Kings got white hair, people in contact with any darkness commonly show red eyes etc. + Artorias ended up with these features too, and black hair on his helmet was his own hair cut to decorate it, not unlike Ciaran's braid. This never caused the panic though, it is no more than like getting tan under too much sun exposure. The corruption carries different effects than just a bit of a recolor!

> Wolf blood gave them minor feral features, like fangs and tufts of grey fur in the spots where humans normally have the most hair. no tails though

> @val-of-the-north actually counted the corpses using colorful stones drops to not get lost! So, the amount of Abyss Watchers is only barely above 100! This is very little for a legion, but they were pretty strong at their prime so the number never shifted too far from this number

> The ~100 consisted of mostly the first of them and those who joined in early. They were mostly a pack of these people, very rarely losing members and very rarely gaining those who would grow into "true wolves". Even out of those who were accepted as Abyss Watchers rather than Farron Followers, most didn't fully assimilate. They remained visibly 'distinguished' ones, like Hawkwood who never grew to their common 10'00''+ height and so

> These rare new members were referred to as 'cubs'. The 'distinguished' people like Hawkwood were continued to be called so even after they fully trained, although it then had more affectionate connotation than referring to their lack of experience

> They offer people who have shown bravery and are deemed to have true warrior spirit within to come with them, however, it is quite hard to refuse them. It is very easy to get roped into madness by them by simply allowing them to surround the person and speak of the importance of combating the horrors, how Artorias tooooootally once succeeded etc. They do not even understand the nearly-hypnotic effect they possess, but it is explained by the gravity of the Abyss itself surrounding them due to their job. It horrifies, however humans naturally possess the darkness that finds kinship in it, the wish to fight it endlessly IS just one of the ways it entices and corrupts. Those who managed to avoid getting seduced recruited by them after confrontation do recall that something felt very wrong and otherwordly for a short time.

> 'Semi-hivemind' is the best way I can describe them tbh. There is usually a member who is unmistakeably singled out and seemingly 'leading the pack', and if this particular person was lost, the next strongest guy would get singled out instinctively.

> "True" Abyss Watchers hardly, if ever, need to verbally communicate with each other, instead understanding instinctively. When they do need to talk with anyone it is this 'pack leader' doing the talking, usually with some others accompanying him and performing actions if needed without any signals to do so. The 'leader', also, mostly speaks for them all as they share their thoughts and feelings ("Don't try to lie to us, we could always smell it in your blood", "We all remember your bravery", "We could almost feel you wagging your tail, if you had one" etc).

> And they can, in fact, sense more than average person due to the wolf blood! Blood pressure, heartrate, whether someone started sweating and so on. It is very useful when someone is trying to hide having gotten touched by the Abyss (reasonably so, because it is instant death). Or if someone pretends they totally didn't encourage less-infected people to evacuate the corrupted land before Abyss Watchers came to obliterate it.

> The best way to stay alive after being targeted for "mercy-killing" by them is to run into the Church of the Deep. Abyss Watchers are sceptical about 'purifying' ones with minor corruption, but they cannot cross into this territory without permission for several reasons. And so far those whom Deacons "treated" really seemed to be alright. Abyss Watchers didn't believe in efficiency of this method though and had a feeling that sacred body of water could not fit in everyone's even natural darkness, let alone Abyssal one. They absolutely loathe and pity the place though, but all they really could do was to wait to obliterate it when it'd inevitably drown in filth. (the big "told you so" day that never became their to claim lol)

> Anyone who feels attracted to them is under no pressure to kiss and cuddle all of them they're welcomed to try though if they dare lol . They share their feelings, so getting close even with one makes others happy by effect. Though if such things occur, usually it is the 'pack's leader' who claims this experience, let alone the fact he is the only one who will actually talk. But even then, at least several others will linger around

> If one of the "true" Abyss Watchers, the 'identical' ones, gets somehow separated from the rest for significant time, they might slowly reclaim sense of identity and even remember their name. Addiction to fighting the Abyss can't be helped though, so they will yearn to forget the brief moments of peace and rejoin the group

[all-pacas]

Would you elaborate on a Chase in The Good Place AU? It's consuming my brain since you mentioned it and I love your AUs

I mean, mostly just an offhand comment on I'd love to have all of them be forced to attend a Chidi philosophy lecture, because it would be fascinating on so many different levels, right? Or just using the Good Place as a shorthand for "surprise! Your life was meaningless and now you're in hell! Change!"

Foreman and Cameron both seem fairly set and certain of their morals and philosophies, but are in different ways hypocritical and inconsistent. They both think of themselves as good people for sure. And I don't know how much critical self reflection either of them do.

Chase is a bit askew of the two of them, not because I think he's much more self aware, but he's also much more morally vague — he doesn't have a ton of stated values or a strict moral code, I'm not even sure how he views himself, how he'd define himself if asked. Cameron would call herself a good person. Foreman would call himself intelligent, a good person. Would Chase? Not out of some enlightened awareness, but just… everyone on the show thinks he's morally vacant, and he knows it too.

(And that's not even touching House or Wilson in the Good Place. House alone, who studies religion and philosophy and both knows his morals and his code and is incredibly ambivalent and self-hating.)

I mean, they're all going to the Bad Place. I think Chase and House would be the least surprised, on a scale: not happy or accepting, but, you know. Sure. (Especially post S6 Chase. He knows he's off to hell.)

Cameron would be horrified, and outraged. She does so much to help people! She's so nice! I think she overlooks or tries to overlook the harm she causes, the ways she can be cruel: they're accidents. They're unintentional. Intent is what matters, and her intents are always good, or at least: she tells herself that they are. Which isn't true. She can behave selfishly, she can behave unkindly. But it's very important to Cameron that she is a good person, both as something to be and something to strive towards. And she is! She is a good person! She does work hard at it! But I do think she ignores her own failings.

Foreman, for his part, strikes me as a utilitarian — he's done net good, so what does it matter if here and there he's bent a rule or hurt someone's feelings? He probably is the one who lies awake and considers himself and his place in the world and how he's doing and what he's done. He wants to be good, but he also wants to be the best, he wants to be admired. (Him and Amber are the same. If they won't like you, you have to be right.) He wants power, partially because he does have that ego; partially because it's a way of proving himself. On the whole, he is a Good Doctor, he Saves Lives, he Helps People. That should outweigh the people he's hurt or been cruel to. That should matter more.

I don't know what sort of philosophy Chase would best fit with. He falls into a sort of … nihilistic hedonism, almost: enjoying himself and wanting to have fun, but only because he also believes that if he's a burden to others he deserves death; because he's Quite Catholic and just sort of accepts when it's over he's going to hell. So what does it matter, right? If he's fucked no matter what, why not sleep around and having a good time? It's sort of a reflection of his talk with House in Cursed: if caring leads to pain, it's better not to care. If you burden others, you have failed.

So they're all in the Bad Place. There was another bus accident or something. And they get to do the fixed version of the game, reincarnating again and again until they reach enlightenment. Foreman's Bad Place seems pretty easy. He's gotta stop caring so much about the opinions of others, getting his self worth via superiority and praise. Cameron's biggest flaw, I think, is that she avoids the consequences from her actions. Runs away and uproots her life repeatedly; ignores the ways she hurts people or ignores their feelings. In a way she's too empathic: she pushes her own feelings and empathy onto others, and assumes they feel the same way she does, need nothing but what she'd need or want. I'm not sure how to make that her personal hell. Chase? He's again the hardest (after House), because I think he'd sort of just accept he was in Hell and that was that: why try to improve? Why try to change? He doesn't try, that's his biggest problem. We know he's incredibly bright, capable of solving cases on his own from early on, but he never tries (because trying means failing which means disappointing others). He stays with House for years after he should have moved on because it's safer and easier. So that's his personal hell: something to make him need to try, want to be better. Put him in a position where he has to.

[legallybrunettedotcom]

”people are going to change their mind about you the same way you change your mind about others” real and very true!! i was wondering tho if u have advice about like. how to cope with this reality??? maybe it’s my bpd but the pain of somebody changing their mind and leaving (despite me knowing and respecting that this is their Right to do so) just…….. feels like my whole body’s on fire. hurts so bad. how does one bridge the gap between the logical knowledge and the emotional understanding???

I probably have it easier in this interpersonal regard because I don't form attachments and thus don't get hurt. I am kind of always aware a relationship, whatever it is, can end any moment. We could be having the best time ever and you still might never want to talk to me again, or me to you.

I wasn't trying to invalidate anyone's feelings and emotional turmoil. An emotion is neither valid nor invalid, we have little control over the emotions that arise in us. It's something irrational. Same with our automatic thoughts. There are such horrifying and intense things that exist in a person's brain and heart, and we can all agree it's about what we do with them, our behaviour, how we react.

I know I run for the hills when I don't like something or someone so I'd be a hypocrite if I didn't allow others that. Patience should be practiced and people should be given multiple chances (ofc there are some exceptions to this), but overall I don't want others to be miserable. Nothing about me is special, why should I demand this person stays with me and stays unhappy? But also maybe it has nothing to do with me, a candle just goes out.

I don't think we really have to bridge the gap between the logical knowledge and the emotional understanding, they can co-exist. As much as we are rational beings we're also irrational beings and we should nurture both of those aspects.

We hurt so much in so many ways. It feels like fire, like you want to tear your skin off, like you want to vomit your entire being, there's such intense pain present and there's just nothing we can do about it. It happens without our acceptance. I personally do believe time heals wounds. You find a way to distract yourself, you think about it less, it still lingers, but it feels more dull and you can live with that. I kinda think life is about sitting in the uncomfortable for a while and then seeking distractions from it, like I am experiencing all this inner turmoil, and now what will I rationally choose?

Like with so many things, I can't offer an easy way out, but I think the fact that you can recognize the other person's right to leave is already a big step, many people don't respect that. How to cope with this reality? I know I have trouble coping with my reality and I won't lie, I just don't accept it. I don't know you, you know your life the best, what you do, so I think, time and time again, the coping mechanism become the things in our everyday life. A walk and a shower won't fix someone who is extremely depressed, but they are building blocks and you try to find as many of them to put on top of each other.

[crazyunsexycool]

Lottie and Gracie are such cuties!

I want to see what Gracie's reaction is meeting Steebie because he's her favourite!

Maybe Bruce also helps her with her treatment to get well sooner??

Sweet baby Gracie 🥺🥺🥺!!! she shares Lottie’s love for Steve.

I’m going to also include the second part if your ask to this

Meet your Hero

Warning: sick child, hair loss, probably some references to inaccurate medical treatments, mentions of blood, fluff

Gracie was sitting at Lottie’s play table. She sat patiently while Lottie rummaged through her rather large headband collection looking for something special. She gave a little ‘a-ha’ when she found it.

“Is perfect, Gracie.” She held up a braided headband with red and blue fabric and white star beads woven in. “It matches.”

Lottie was referring to the Captain America shirt Gracie was wearing. It belonged to her older brother Derek but he let her have it since Captain America was Gracie’s favorite Avenger.

“But I don’t have hair.” Gracie runs her small hand over her head, pouting at the feeling of skin on skin instead of hair.

“So what?”

“I look ugly. I can’t meet Captain Merica like that.”

Lottie gasps. She’s truly horrified at what her friend is saying. She’s quick to argue that point though. “You not ugly Gracie. You so cute. An Steebie don’t care if you habe hair.” She says very matter of fact. “I no habe hair and Steebie still lobes me.”

“You were sick too?”

“Mhm.” Lottie moves toward her night stand where she has a picture of her and baby goats from when Tony brought a petting zoo to the compound. “See.” She holds it up to show her dearest friend.

“Oh. But you’re not sick anymore.”

“No. But mama and Buce make me bettuh. They make you bettuh too, I see it.” Lottie nods.

****

The girls walked the rather large hallways of the compound. Lottie held Gracie’s hand as she walked the same familiar path to Steve’s office. By now the agents and staff of the compound knew of Lottie’s wandering tendencies so they just went about their business. Some said their hellos or waved as the girls walked by.

“You weady?” Lottie looks at Gracie, her big brown eyes now more noticeable since she’s wearing her face mask again. She blinks a few times and nods, with that Lottie knocks on Steve’s office door.

“Come in.”

Lottie opens the door and walks right in like she has countless times before.

“Hey sweetheart, what are you doing here?” Steve says as he pushes his chair back and accepts her hug.

“Steebie this is Gracie, she’s my best friend.”

“Well hello Gracie, I’ve heard many wonderful things about you.” Steve takes a knee and extends his hand to shake Gracie’s. “I like your shirt and it matches your headband, that’s so cool.”

“I told you he’d like it.” Lottie cheered.

Meanwhile Gracie just stared up at Steve with wide, wonder-filled eyes. Steve keeps his easy smile as he listens to Lottie tell him about Gracie some more since she’s kind of starstruck.

“How about we sit you girls down and get you something to drink?”

Steve picks Lottie up and sets her on his desk and then he does the same with Gracie. He loves to the mini fridge he keeps stocked up with a little bit of everything and gets two juice boxes.

“So are you having fun with Lottie?”

“Yeah.” She says quietly.

“Gracie is gonna see Buce. He makes her all bettuh.”

“Well Bruce is good at his job. But it’s ok to be scared sometimes.”

“Do you get scared?” Gracie looks up at Steve.

“All the time.”

“But you’re Captain Merica.”

“That’s true but sometimes there are things that are really scary. The important thing is that you have to face those really scary things and most of the time it turns out it wasn’t that bad at all.” Steve says. “It also help if you have friends and family to help you be brave.”

“Like Lottie?”

“Yup. Just like Lottie. Now I’m going to give you something only the bravest people get because you’re a fighter.” Steve says as he rummages through one of his drawers.

“What is it?” Gracie asks curiously.

Steve holds up a small badge that had the Howling Commandos’ insignia on it. “This was only worn by the Howlies. Do you know who they are?”

Gracie and Lottie nod.

“They were the bravest people I knew and now you’re a Howlie too. And it even goes with your shirt.”

“This is my be brave shirt. My brother gave it to me.”

Steve smiles and blinks back a few tears. “Well now you know I’ll always be with you.” He taps the pin.

Even though she put her mask back on after finishing her juice, Steve can tell she’s smiling with the way her eyes light up.

“Now how about I take you down to Bruce’s lab?”

****

You, Bruce, Duckie and Mr. and Mrs. Moore are sitting around a table going over what the first few steps are going to be. The double doors slide open and in walks in Steve with two giggling girls on his shoulders.

“I believe these two lovely ladies belong here.” Steve says as Lottie practically jumps off his shoulder. He however is much more gentle with Gracie.

“Look mommy I’m a Howlie now.” She proudly displays her pin. “Steve says only the bravest people ever get this.”

Her parents smile at him and accept his offer to take a picture with her. Gracie subconsciously puts her hand on her head again, obviously self conscious about her lack of hair.

“Hey, how about this, we take a picture now and when you get better we’ll take another one and you can see how much your hair has grown? Although I think you look very pretty either way.”

Gracie blushes at Steve’s words but nods anyway before posing for a few pictures. Steve takes his leave with one last hug to Lottie’s closest friend.

The girls sit patiently, quietly talking about Steve. Gracie absentmindedly running a finger over her new pin.

“Like we were saying before, we have better equipment to see more details. When we complete the scan we’ll be able to determine more.” Duckie says.

“The best course of action would be to let us run a few tests. That way we can come up with the best treatment.”

Mrs. Moore looks at you. You can see how she’s fighting against the hope blooming in her chest at the thought that maybe her baby can receive the best care possible. With a small nod you give her the push she needs and Gracie’s parents agree to run some tests.

****

You’ve been home for about an hour. The girls still wanted to play after the appointment. Gracie didn’t cry once while getting blood taken or through any other exam. She was a Howling Commando now, she was brave. While you and Bucky sit and talk to your newest friends your phone rings and you step into the kitchen when you see it’s Bruce.

A few minutes later you walk back into the living room. Mr and Mrs Moore’s attention goes to you the minute you step back into the room.

“That was Bruce.” You say calmly. The couple before you grab each other’s hands. “He said that he can have the medication ready by tomorrow. Gracie’s chances are high. Your girl’s going to be just fine.”

Gracie’s parents begin to cry as relief and joy and hope wash over them. They wouldn’t have to see their daughter go through so such a difficult illness for much longer.

And every year Steve keeps his promise and takes a picture with Gracie. Her hair is always different but her smile is always bright and her pin is always with her.

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

I think ZKs are projecting Sokka onto Katara. Since let’s think about it, how much of their claims applies more to Sokka?

1. Being one of Zuko’s foils. 2. Being a “Parent” of the group. Sokka does want to be seen as the leader and he often behaves as the Dad Friend. 3. X Has irrational hatred for the Fire Nation, which Zuko and a few others helps him with. 4. Their stories making it make sense to pair them together. As mentioned, Sokka does want to be the Leader. 5. Zuko understands Sokka better than Katara.

Sorry to disappoint, anon, but I STRONGLY disagree.

On them supposedly being narrative foils

Zuko has three narrative foils: Aang, Ozai and Azula. The show goes out of it's way to make that clear through tons of episodes directly highlighting how simmilar Zuko is to Aang, designing Ozai to look like an older version of him that doesn't have the scar, and Azula is a look at the tragic fate he would have had if he had stood by his father's side until the bitter end.

Sokka wanting to be a warrior is not that special in a series about martial arts/war, and him wanting to be the leader is constantly shown as being about his relationship with Hakoda. At most, the "I want to make my father proud" thing would be the real parallel here (and one paralel does not make characters true foils to each other), with Hakoda being a good dad that is worth admiring and taking inspiration from, while Ozai is the cautionary tale his son needs to use as the exemple of what NOT to do.

Leader/Parent

Sokka is not the parent of the group, and neither is Zuko. Katara is the mom friend, and she has mixed feelings about it exactly because, while she naturally takes on that role, she's the ONLY ONE to do so, and thus she sometimes resents her own motherly nature because she fears her friends see her as "mom friend" first and "one of us" second.

As for the leader of the group, that is very clearly Aang, with Katara taking charge/co-leading sometimes because, duh, he's the main character and the whole show is about HIS mission, of course he calls the shots.

Sokka, at most, has moments of frustration when people are being stupid or disregarding a plan, and the show constantly makes fun of him for taking himself too seriously and trying to pretend he is the "adult in charge". Not at all the same as being the dude in charge of changing an entire nation's philosophy on war - which is ALSO very different from being the dad friend or a leader of a small squad.

Racism VS Righteous Anger

Zuko was indoctrinated from birth to be an entitled, selfish, racist prince, and he also experience emotional and physical abuse, as well as victim blaming after it, and it all made him prone to lashing out at people who have done literally nothing to deserve it. He is trying to help his family, and Fire Lord, commit genocide.

Sokka meanwhile hates the Fire Nation for the DECADES of raids on his tribe that killed his culture and his mother, and forced his father to leave. Still, he speaks out against things like Jet's plan to kill a bunch of innocent people to "free" them from the Fire Nation, doesn't have anything against Piandao, is horrified by Hama's actions, and accepts Zuko into the group once he proves he truly has changed and doesn't want to harm them.

He wasn't eager to save the guy that was constantly chasing him, his friend and his sister around the world, and was willing to kill a tyrant to save himself and others. That is not the same as "irrational hatred" - no, I don't care what a spirit that will not be killed if the Fire Nation wins the war has to say on the matter, it's really easy to say "violence is always bad, even in self-defense" when you're not the one in danger.

"They understand each other more, so it makes sense to pair them together"

Does it? Does it though? Because The Boiling Rock makes a running joke of how much of a not ideal match they are. Awkward silence during their conversation followed by an equally awkward "that's rough, buddy", and Sokka CONSTANTLY not understanding what in the fuck Zuko is talking about when trying to give advice.

Sure, they managed to make it work in the end, but that's not the same as the effortless pair up of Aang and Zuko in the Blue Spirit episode, or Azula always knowing how to get to Zuko so he puts himself in vulnerable position during a fight (and him then using her own tactic against her in the finale) but also working as a great duo with him in Ba Sing Se without having to say a word, or even the time he and Iroh fought against the earthbenders in book 1.

Just because Zuko reacted when Sokka said the word "honor" and they talked about girlfriend trouble doesn't mean they have some deep understanding for one another. Sokka is legitimately one of the few characters that has even LESS of a connection with Zuko than Katara. They're on the same side and they're friends, but they're not as close to each other as they are to literally everyone else in their friend group.

[bookmuseum]

[REVIEW] Nineteen Eighty-Four by George Orwell

5/5 stars (★★★★★)

“You will have to get used to living without results and without hope. You will work for a while, you will be caught, you will confess, and then you will die. Those are the only results that you will ever see. There is no possibility that any perceptible change will happen within our own lifetime. We are the dead. Our only true life is in the future. We shall take part in it as handfuls of dust and splinters of bone . . .”

I made it a point to annotate this book -- however casually as possible -- because it's one of those books that you know will stay with you forever. That's why I always kept putting off finally reading it, but I figured 2025 was a fitting year to finally get around to it. We are living in a dystopian hellscape, after all. It isn't just a book genre phase for me anymore, although was it ever really? Orwell says, “So long as human beings stay human, death and life are the same thing.” The text reminds you how everything changes yet absolutely nothing does at the same time.

Whenever people talk about 1984 it's always with a sense of abject horror over how Orwell got everything pristinely and eerily right about a postwar future, which I can sympathize with, but I've always rejected that deterministic reading. The story isn't prophetic. Like with Animal Farm, -- which I am overdue for a rereading since it's been 10 years since I borrowed it from my high school library for fun and ended up with a newfound respect for the dystopian genre (ah, to be a young teenager and grow ever increasingly more disillusioned with the world) -- 1984 is very much a product of astute observation and sharp sociopolitical consciousness. Orwell didn't predict anything as much as he saw what was happening in front of him and deduced the (downward) path we were all headed as the world got more globalized, industrialized, and increasingly obsessed with militarism. His apocalyptic 1984 was the 1949 he wrote the novel in, and it's also every year before and after in the face of war and the rise of authoritarianism. I often hear people say, "1984 is like Germany in the 1980s or modern-day North Korea or the US in 2025." I always found those takes to be surface-level and almost performative in its schadenfreude variety -- which Orwell even hints at in the book:

“. . . [H]e realised how easy it was to present an appearance of orthodoxy while having no grasp whatever of what orthodoxy meant. In a way, the world-view of the Party imposed itself most successfully on people incapable of understanding it. They could be made to accept the most flagrant violations of reality, because they never fully grasped the enormity of what was demanded of them, and were not sufficiently interested in public events to notice what was happening. By lack of understanding they remained sane. They simply swallowed everything, and what they swallowed did them no harm, because it left no residue behind, just as a grain of corn will pass undigested through the body of a bird.”

You just need to replace "orthodoxy" with "resistance" or "activism" and it's still applicable, especially with a lot of the self-proclaimed "progressive" people I talk to nowadays. It's easy to say 1984 is relevant and then relate it to something that's happening now, but it's a very basic interpretation that marvels at the passage of time without dwelling too long on what Orwell is really trying to say. The point isn't that 1984 is also now, at least not completely.

Basically, I wasn't horrified or shocked reading this novel. Maybe I'm cynical, exhausted, or a mixture of both, but I honestly read every line and just went, "Yeah." Because yeah: “Nothing was your own except the few cubic centimetres inside your skull.” Boy, don't I know it. The book wasn't profound or earth-shattering to me because I need only to look out my window or check the news to know Orwell knows his shit and has known his shit for over 75 years now: “He felt as though he were wandering in the forests of the sea bottom, lost in a monstrous world where he himself was the monster. He was alone. The past was dead, the future was unimaginable. What certainty had he that a single human creature now living was on his side?” 1984 is a very modernist text of its time, but I think even Orwell knew it'd outlive his generation and remain contemporary even a century later:

“… The only evidence to the contrary, was the mute protest in your own bones, the instinctive feeling that the conditions you lived in were intolerable and that at some other time they must have been different. It struck him that the truly characteristic thing about modern life was not its cruelty and insecurity, but simply it’s bareness, its dinginess, its listlessness.”

I'm not the first nor will I be the last one to praise this novel for its sociopolitical criticism, and to be honest sitting here deconstructing all these big important themes about morality, justice, the nature of state, fascism, our role as everyday people in a crumbling dystopian hellscape we're all powerless to stop, etc. sounds like a painful activity in uselessness. Literally you just have to read this book and go, "Yeah." Because yeah: “All history was a palimpsest, scraped clean and re-inscribed exactly as often as was necessary.”

Nevertheless, Orwell's masterpiece still exceeded all my expectations like any good book does:

“The book fascinated him, or more exactly it reassured him. In a sense it told him nothing that was new, but that was part of the attraction. It said what he would have said, if it had been possible for him to set his scattered thoughts in order. It was the product of a mind similar to his own, but enormously more powerful, more systematic, less fear-ridden. The best books, he perceived, are those that tell you what you know already.”

How cheeky of him to metatextually (and correctly) refer to his own book as one such text.

Though I suppose as a narrative, 1984 is a bit lacking. There were many good lines -- “It struck him as curious that you could create dead men but not living ones" -- that were hard-hitting and insightful, but I was never all that engrossed by the protagonist Winston Smith, nor did I really care much for his love affair with Julia, who I ended up disliking for her self-serving apathy. Winston's generic British name and "everyman" personality obviously shows that Orwell intended for his readers not to care too much about him as a character -- or even as a person; it's what he experiences that's more important. Still, he uses Winston didactically more often than not, which is most evident in passages like,

“Do you realise that the past, starting from yesterday, has been actually abolished? If it survives anywhere, it’s in a few solid objects with no words attached to them . . . Every record has been destroyed or falsified, every book has been re-written, every picture has been re-painted, every date has been altered. And that process is continuing day by day and minute by minute. History has stopped. Nothing exists except an endless present in which the Party is always right.”

There was a very eloquent yet slogging section where Winston reads a book/manifesto supposedly written by a Brotherhood revolutionary Goldstein, which was interesting to dissect but also kind of jarred you out of Winston's first-person interiority with how theory-based it is. I know Orwell was trying to present his (very valid and well-founded) observations about society and the history of human hierarchal struggle, but the textbook-like rhetoric was kind of off-putting and almost put me to sleep. I went through the first and second parts slowly. (The first chapter is one of the most perfect openings to a book I've ever come across though; I would've annotated it for days if I wasn't so eager to move on to the rest of the story). The plot really picked up in part three.

This was when it got really fucked up (even I didn't expect Orwell to go balls deep inside the places even other "hardcore" dystopian writers now still fear to tread), but at the same time I read the last page and was thoroughly unsurprised. I think the last bit that showed Winston being tortured, brainwashed, and violated was mostly smokes and mirrors -- not in the way that I don't believe it actually happened, but in that Orwell put it in there for the shock factor, which is effective but distracting in its own right. Readers get so caught up in the horror of Winston's mindbreak, which I have to say is one of the most brilliantly depicted descents into cuckoo-ville I've ever encountered in literature. As someone with first-hand experience with psychosis, intrusive thoughts maximizing into harmful action, and gaslighting, it was impressively authentic how well Orwell depicted it all from Winston's perspective. At no point did it feel forced, melodramatic, or voyeuristic. It was pure psychological degeneration. Anyway, I get being really disturbed by Part Three, but in my opinion the book is most authentic to what Orwell is trying to say when he says you have to learn to live without hope and still do what has to be done anyway: “He was a lonely ghost, uttering a truth that nobody would ever hear. But so long as he uttered it, in some obscure way the continuity was not broken. It was not by making yourself heard but by staying sane that you carried on the human heritage.” Orwell establishes his themes of endurance and hope very early in the novel -- way before Winston actually gets his shit handed to him -- so that when everything does go wrong with no reward, Orwell's basically asking, "Where's your hope now?" And you're forced to sit with how fragile your sense of reality and trust in humanity is.

I think that provocation is the novel's greatest aspect. There’s an entire section amidst the Goldstein treatise where Orwell frankly (almost to an indifferent degree) tells you the politics of hopelessness and then proceeds to take all the hope out of the narrative altogether once Winston and Julia get arrested. You can interpret it and the ending as undiluted nihilism or complete surrender to an inevitably bleak future, but you can also take it as a challenge that echoes back to the beginning of the novel, when Winston first starts his little rebellion by writing in his diary: “Now that he had recognized himself as a dead man it became important to stay alive as long as possible.”

Despite 1984 ending on one of the most iconically despondent notes in modern dystopian literature, I still left the novel feeling Orwell's faith, -- his love -- for humanity, however weakly it trembles and gets constantly betrayed in spite of everything. This world is going to break us and that is why we must all do the next right thing anyway, because “[i]f you loved someone, you loved him, and when you had nothing else to give, you still gave him love.”

[dragonagecompanions]

As someone who's been following for ages, you deserve more blog interaction, so what about da2 companions reacting to a hawke who was knowingly on-board with the destruction of the chantry?

Isabella: This whole thing is way outside her pay grade,

and at the end of the day Hawke's involvement level has little to do with her emotions or acceptance. Kirkwall is now a war zone, and the safest place is Not Here. Hawke is welcome to join her, or not, but either way the captain is leaving with the tide.

Bethany: In truth Hawke's sister, either circle mage or warden, is hardly surprised. In Ferelden, when their family was still whole, Malcom lived with the fear that one day he would be drug away from all he had built and trapped in the circle. In Kirkwall his daughter suffered the same fear. It makes it easy to understand her sibling's decision, if no less easy to accept.

But the Hawke's stick together, and even if she is horrified and frightened of the future Bethany is staying with her family.

Carver: Is anyone really surprised that the almighty Hawke would finally take things into their own hands?

Its not that Carver has no care for his sibling, not really, but over the years over over protection and standing in the shadows Carver is the least surprised that the scion of their family is willing to go to extremes. As a Warden, more distant from the issues and grown used to the apolitical nature of the order, he is disgusted and horrified. As a templar...

Well, something was always going to give. He can neither condemn nor condone.

Aveline: A decade of friendship, of trust and respect and family, go up as quickly as the Chantry. She, who has always stood for order and justice and the understanding that there must be both compassion and discipline in a society, cannot stomach the knowledge. Its unthinkable that her friend would be a party to this kind of...wanton destruction.

Because of their friendship, she will let them live. But while she breathes they will never be welcome in Kirkwall again.

Fenris: What is left to say? For all he admires Hawke and is grateful for their assistance in the past, they have thrown their lot in with the abomination. Fenris has seen enough of Tevinter to know what comes next. They will find no more friend in him.

Anders: It was like a miracle in itself, when he finally tells Hawke and they not only agree but want to help. Carrying this burden alone for so long has been hellish, but a problem shared is a problem halved. Their support keeps Justice banked to an extent, to know that another is willing to take the steps necessary to bring about true unity.

And in the fall out, it is good to not be alone.

Varric: Well....shit.

Very little can shake Kirkwall's resident author from a chosen course, and in truth even this cannot truly demolish his friendship with the champion, but....it's shaken. Things were bad, yes, and Meredith was insane, but now his city is up in flames and on a knife edge from being taken by Starkhaven or in a divine invasion. All he has worked for is literally up in smoke and...

Shit. They need to run, until they can figure out what to do next. And figure out how he can learn to look them in the eyes again and trust what he sees.

Merill: If Hawke refused to let her destroy the mirror, the hypocrisy burns in her. Her eluvian was so dangerous that she can't even experiment, but they are allowed to destroy the Shem's chantry? Where is the justice in that?!

But if pursued to the terrible end, the blood mage knows what it is to be caught in a web from which there is no escape but destruction. She can hardly judge what she herself has wrought, and will stand with her friend no matter the consequences of their actions.

Sebastian: He attacks. There is no mercy, not even if they are in love, for what they have done. So many of the faithful were needlessly slaughtered, and even if he will fall as well the prince of Starkhaven will have their vengeance in blood.

Mod Fereldone

[jvstheworld]

The Buffy Re-watch: S1E8 (part 1)

I, Robot, You, Jane

Also known as the perils of online dating

The title itself is a play on 'Me, Tarzan, you, Jane'. The only version of Tarzan I've seen is the 1999 Disney one, Does anyone remember the TV show they did of it? And did anyone like it when it was a playable world in the first Kingdom Hearts game? For me it was kind of meh.

Straight away we know who our monster of the week is. Moloch. A demon that was around in 1400s Italy corrupting people to love him before he kills them. Sort of a Jim Jones vibe here.

Circle of Kayless. Huh, sounds kind of Klingon to me.

Evil demon is trapped in a book and kept in storage for 500 years until it happens to be in the possession of our favourite librarian. Question is: how did he get?

The first appearance of Jenny Calender. And is the complete opposite of Giles. Those tend to attract.

Giles in this season is hesitant to scan his books for easy access, but this is something he tries to do at the beginning of season 5 when he is making plans to leave for England. But the project was probably never finished as when he does leave in season 6 the gang still use the books.

Fritz's speech on the greatness of virtual vs paper is kind of true, but in a very annoying way. We currently have everything an our finger tips, news, books, TV, film, any info we want we can find by going online, and get it quicker than we can brew tea. it's convenient, anyone can access it as long as it's not behind paywall, and it is often cheaper than a physical copy. However, you don't own it. With what we are seeing with streaming services removing films and shows from their libraries is that nothing is permanent. Companies like HBO do it so they can save money. It's imperative, now more than ever, to own physic copies of the things you like because it may disappear virtually. Tech is great and using it can make lives easier, but in some cases just because you paid for it, doesn't mean you own it. Physical copies my cost more and take up space but it will still be there for later.

Giles is horrified that more interactions take place digitally that face to face. Yeah, it just gets worse over time. Giles would hate social media.

Jenny is flirting with Giles, so cute.

How is Willow scanning anything. She's holding the scanner so close to the book that she's missing both sides of the page and she did like 2 pages. What was the point of that?

Demon is a computer? Oh shit!

Chad Lindberg- also starred in Supernatural as Ash, the guy who lived at The Roadhouse with Joe and Ellen in season 2. There are a few Buffy actor who appeared in Supernatural, including Charisma Carpenter who was in season 7 episode 5 playing Maggie Stark, the wife of Don Stark who was played by James Marsters.

Did you notice that Willow has a photo of her and Giles in her locker door? When did they take that? Also gives more credence to her admission that she had a crush on him in season 4 episode 18.

Buffy has a good reason to be mistrustful about Malcolm. This was back when internet dating wasn't as prevalent as it is now. Nowadays it's more widely accepted, hell my dad met my step-mum through a dating site. The internet was still in its infancy here and Buffy just wants to make sure that Willow isn't getting catfished. I mean she is, but they don't know that yet.

An extra is talking about how his history report got messed up to say things that should not be said. We get a few details like this throughout the episode to show the scope of what Moloch is capable of.

Okay, okay, okay. I went on a couple of tangents and turned one point into a slight rant. Won't guarantee it won't happen again because it most definitely will. These posts I'm doing are in order of what happens in each episode and what I think of while watching them, so tangents happen and so long, drawn out thoughts.

Part 2 tomorrow.

[polarisdelphi]

Another character sheet I did of another character from the ~thing~ I'm writing: Elisabeta!

Like I said before, the art, the design, the writing, the character is all mine. And I'm pretty happy on how she turned out in the drawing, because I had a very specific look for Elisabeta and, luckily, I managed to achieve it *cries in artist tears*

Her looks, actually, was very much inspired by Gigi Goode. Gigi is very beautiful and terribly talented, she was the only face that popped up in my mind while writing a female powerhouse that is Elisabeta.

Also, Elisabeta is my first trans ftm character and I was so happy she managed to come out as a fully-fledged character rather than a staple - she actually matters a lot to the story and now I'm so attached I want to give her more book time :')

And I'm only saying this because, I dunno, I don't like writing diverse characters only to fill a quota. I want their characteristics to matter to them, but I don't want that to be all they are - I hope I'm making sense here. I was glad to be able to make a character that reflects her character, hopes and dreams just like any other person and any other characters - and not another one of those "here, have a diversity character whose personality is only that and who'll disappear without any actual consequences to the story"

More on her and the story below the cut!

Olympia is a city that will eat you alive if you give it the chance. Many survive in it, but few actually make it.

The Wolves of the Kárpati are known and dangerous, being one of the most feared mobsters in Olympia. They are a family and can - and will - protect themselves and eliminate everything in their way. The Alpha of the Wolves, their boss, is always one of the most respected - both by law enforcement or mercs trying to make it in the city of broken dreams.

Elisabeta assumed as the Alpha right after the passing of her father, having to prove herself fit to be the first woman to ever lead the Kárpati - born as a boy, she always hid her true self while competing with her vicious brother, Omor, who would take over; having to admit who she really was and face her father, fighting for his approval, wasn't easy - but, in the end, he died happy knowing his beloved daughter would be a perfect Alpha and make the Kárpati thrive.

Omor didn't accept things as well, though. Even if his sister is Alpha, he doesn't lose the opportunity to sting her with misgendering or bringing up her previous past when she wasn't really herself. Elisabeta only accepts this behaviour because of their sibling bond, but, after she learns horrifying truths from Omor's daughter, her most beloved person in the world that she loves as her own daughter, Elisabeta is ready to show how vicious and merciless she can be.

"I don't enjoy violence for violence's sake. But you hurt me - or worse, you hurt one of my own - I will watch you bleed slowly at my feet, with a smile on my face, having you beg for mercy even when you know, deep in your heart, there is none inside my own." - Elisabeta, sitting by her desk, regal posture, cup of tea on her table, watching you with a glint of fire in her glowing red eyes.

----

I am still learning how to write trans characters, though. if something isn't well written or too vague and seeming like I'm glossing over, please, feel free to tell me. I'm always willing to learn and I'm still developing my character writing skill!

(alsoooo English isn't my first language, so yeaaaah, it'll be nice to know if some ideas aren't as well articulated as I thought HAHAHA)

[elainemorisi]

a) if you would like to indulge in probably overblown panic about world events, do I have the spot on the internet for you

b) are people like, actually commonly incapable of seeing somebody say something they (observer) believes, to a somewhat informed degree, to be probably just catastrophizing and like... dismissing it?

[immortalmolloy]

It was quite a big question for Daniel who had only just become a vampire. Am I evil?

Their souls were so alike, yet they were not the same. Nicolas had come from a very different time than Daniel. Nicolas had his trauma and the things that shaped him into who he was today. Daniel was young and a man of modern times. They were bound to have different opinions on certain things.

The whole religious part of it wasn’t lost on Daniel because of the religious family he’d grown up with. He knew what it felt like to be taught that you were damned for who you were deep down. “My family would agree,” Daniel said. “They told me I would go to Hell for being gay. So I pretended I wasn’t. They taught me everything I was deep down was shameful and that I would burn for it. I felt so much shame and hatred towards myself. I wished that I was normal. I wanted to die. I believed I would never be loved for who I am, and that I would never belong anywhere in this world. If they knew I was a vampire now…” Daniel let the sentence trail off.

It wasn’t easy to talk about that stuff. All he’d ever wanted was love from his family and all they ever did was condemn him to Hell. It still hurt when he thought about it now, he could remember all of the pain he was in before he met Nicolas.

“When I met you, I thought that you were a true monster,” Daniel admitted. “That was exciting. Even when I knew the evil acts you had committed I liked you all the more for it. But things changed.”

Daniel knew Nicolas’ story. He’d witnessed some truly terrible memories from Nicolas in his head. Daniel believed that some vampires were evil. The story of Nicolas having his hands cut off was still haunting and horrifying. That was evil. He had no doubt about that.

“A monster is no longer a monster when you love them,” Daniel said. “The moment I started to feel love for you, the moment you started to love me in return, everything changed. I understood you. I understood your story. I understood why you did the things you did. You were no longer a true monster in my mind. I didn’t see you as evil.”

Would this upset Nicolas? Would it cause an argument? Daniel didn’t want to fight. He just wanted to process all of his feelings and thoughts aloud now as he considered wether or not he was evil now because he was a vampire.

Don’t be afraid, because I have saved you. I have called you by name, and you are mine…

Daniel remembered Nicolas crying and screaming, on the bed, on the floor. He remembered Nicolas haunted by his trauma and Nicolas always burning, Nicolas always damned to suffering and damned to Hell. He remembered talking to him about everything just so Nicolas could hear his voice and be comforted. He remembered singing to him over and over again. Daniel would sit there by his side for as long as he needed to, even as his muscles aches and his throat was sore from singing so much. Daniel felt it was an honor to be the one to comfort Nicolas, to be the one who sat beside him and sang to him as he sobbed, to hold him after it was all over. It was never a burden. He wanted to be there forever to do this for Nicolas. He forever wanted to be the one to hold him tight and pull him from the flames of perdition.

“A lot of my beliefs and all of my shame and my ideas of evil, it all shifted when I felt love for you and felt loved by you in return,” Daniel told Nicolas. “Because you loved me, I started to love and accept myself- even the darkest parts of myself. I was free to be myself. I stopped feeling shame about who I am and the things I desire. You loved me the way I am so I embraced even the darkest parts of my own nature.”

It was ironic. Nicolas had always been insisting that he was an evil monster, that he sold his soul, that he was damned. Yet it was because of his love for Nicolas and the way Nicolas loved him on return that Daniel felt the opposite way. He didn’t feel evil at all.

“Maybe you’re right though,” Daniel said. “Maybe regardless of whether or not I feel evil, we are. Maybe we are damned. But I would gladly follow you into Hell, Nicolas. If we are damned, then so be it. I love you more than anything. I will burn with you if I must. That doesn’t scare me. The only thing that scares me is losing you.”

@symphonyofmalice

Daniel was wandering the city in search of a story. He had no destination in mind. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was looking for, but knew he’d recognize it when he saw it. He needed a real unique story, something that would make his career and that no one else could write.

The sound of music drew him in. He found himself watching a performer busking on the corner. The young man was ridiculously pretty. The melancholy music seemed to flow from his very soul. The violin was an extension of himself. Daniel was in awe. He’d never seen anything like it.

A small crowd had gathered, a few of them dropping money for the talented performer. Daniel waited until the other people had dispersed, then he approached the musician. “You’re incredible,” he blurted out, immediately embarrassing himself. “I mean, I’m a journalist. My name’s Daniel Molloy and I’d love to interview you.”

[sepublic]

It’s so messed up realizing the Elktaur is just as much the General as he is the Nowhere King; And that the General is just as much the Elktaur as the Nowhere King is. So when he’s singing that last lullaby before his death, keep in mind that’s also the General who is crying and accepting his fate, arguably, as much as it is the Nowhere King. And so I guess it’s easier to pity the Nowhere King and JUST him, while hating the General... But the Elktaur truly is both and thus the most mixed.

He suffered, but only because he himself was willing to inflict that suffering upon another, specifically himself; A poetically literal form of self hatred and cruelty. Karmic but also very much not. The Nowhere King’s tragedy came as a result of the Elktaur’s willingness to be cruel to another to get what he wants, and I am haunted over that. It’s easy to divorce the General from the Elktaur, but I really think one shouldn’t; And likewise, it probably isn’t a matter of the Elktaur being split into different halves, but ones purely identical in all but body.

The General did not take more conceit while the Nowhere King took more self-loathing, they were both equal and identical ratios of the Elktaur’s traits, the difference really is circumstance. And that’s gonna keep me awake at night, because it essentially is two AU versions of a character at war with one another; Like if there were two timelines where the Elktaur turned into just a human, or just an elk- And then they met!

This really is an existential crisis for me... The realization that the General was just as much the Nowhere King and vice-versa. The Nowhere King easily would’ve been the General, and so forth. Just... WHAT THE FUCK. If you’d taken that scene where the General and Elk first wake up, and then have them swap souls/bodies... Everything would turn out the exact same. The ‘General in Elk’s body’ would be the same tragic Nowhere King and vice-versa, because they are literally the same. This is genuinely horrifying.

This show really is scratching that existential debate about clones that I’ve always wanted to see acknowledge but never had the experience to behold; The idea that two clones of the same person are just as valid as the other, but by extension, not valid at all as copies. And so if you have the common trope where the villain clones themselves and their memories as backups to live forever... These clones should still arguably be different people, but also not? It’s all fine when one clone dies and then the next is woken up, but what if all are woken up at once?

What if all clones are forced to grapple with each other? Because if they’re all equally valid as the original’s successor, then none of them really ARE the original if there can be more than one. And thus the original really is dead, right? So why continue if you realize you’re just another copy amongst many? Can you really claim validity as the true clone, without having to use luck and circumstance to justify your own denial? Because at best you can claim to be the ‘true’ clone by beating the others, but if you’re all equal, then that victory really is just luck and circumstance.

And the Nowhere King VS the General is... Basically this entire dilemma, but actually brought to life and made the basis behind the ENTIRE story! Where ‘luck’ is purely the reason why one got to claim power over the other as the original’s successor... This is some Twilight Zone-level fuckery. This is like that one cut joke from Kipo and the Age of Wonderbeasts, where Dave’s regeneration would’ve bit him back philosophically when he’s split equally into two halves, so BOTH regenerate into separate Daves... And one is only declared the ‘true’ Dave by winning Rock-Paper-Scissors.

Which, they say there’s a fine line between Horror and Comedy. I feel the duality of this existential clone horror into a morbid joke is embodied by that example from Kipo, as well as Centaurworld... But Centaurworld also brings up the humorous side of this clone debacle with the miniature versions shot from hooves. Because true to its nature as two unlike things put together (comedy and darkness), like the centaurs that act as its namesake, Centaurworld effortlessly whiplashes between the humor and the horror of this existential crisis like nobody’s business. They’re just the SAME mess, but treated differently, like the General and Nowhere King (one with positivity/comedy, the other with cruelty/horror)!

[the-bau-quinjet]

Tolerate It

Summary: Reader struggles with feeling like Hotch is growing distant.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x gn!Reader

Category: fluff/angst

Warnings: the reader has thoughts/feelings of inadequacy

Word Count: 3200+

Notes: This is my entry for @railmereid‘s 2k writing challenge! It was inspired by Taylor Swift’s song tolerate it! I think there’s only one direct quote (I’m begging for footnotes in the story of your life). 

You met Aaron on accident. It could be said that a lot of people are met on accident, and that’s just how people meet other people. But with Aaron it felt different. It felt as though every little thing that went wrong that day lead you to the accident that would introduce Aaron Hotchner into your life.

After the shit show that was today, all you want to do is get home and sleep. Maybe also eat dinner, but honestly even food is on the backburner of your mind right now. 

Your drive home from work was the first uneventful thing to happen all day, a necessary moment of peace. You made it into your apartment without any trouble, swiftly moving to change into your fluffiest pajamas and sleep.

The second your head hit your pillow, the fire alarm sounded. The blaring alarm screeched in your ears as you groaned. You forced yourself out of bed to comply with the alarm. Without thinking, you put on your slippers, grabbed your keys, and walked out the front door. 

Once you made it to the street, you turned to see the building really was on fire. It looked contained to one patio, but it was big enough for you to give up your plans of sleep. Instead, you chose to turn on your heel and walk down the street to escape the crowd. 

You didn’t have a plan as to where you were going. You just wanted it to be quiet. Before long, you found yourself in a park. Looking around, you spotted an empty bench. Perfect. You can just sit, enjoy the quiet of the park for however long it takes to fix the fire issue. 

You start trekking toward the bench, now walking with a purpose, when you notice a man chasing his child. The child laughs loudly, joy so clear on his face. The man smiles at him, still running behind him. 

His smile is so infectious, it has its own magnetic force pulling you towards him.  Switching directions from the bench, you are now walking toward the grassy area they are playing in, not looking at your surroundings. You’re so captivated by the happiness on display in front of you, you don’t notice the change in terrain. 

You end up tripping on a rock, falling and tumbling down the slight decline to land in a heap at the feet of the very man whose smile distracted you.

To make matters worse, he was not stationary. No, that would have been to simple. He was, in fact, still chasing the child. So, rather than rolling to a stop and looking up at him, you rolled right into him, causing him to lose his balance and fall over you. 

The two of you were a tangled mess of limbs piled on top of each other. Slowly, carefully the two of you separated, gingerly moving arms and legs to avoid further injury. Helping each other rise from the ground, you were both speechless, equal parts amused and horrified at what just happened. 

“Are you okay?” 

You jumped at the sudden intrusion that brought you back to reality. Spinning around, you realized it was the child. 

It took you an embarrassing amount of time to form a response. “Oh, um... yes I’m okay. Thank you.” Turning back to the man, you finally realized what just happened. “Oh my god. I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

He chuckled, a small smirk appearing on his face before he replied, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Oh, good.” Your relief was short lived as you realized what you were wearing and how you were dressed. “Please tell me you didn’t see me roll all the way down the hill?” You cringed at the thought. 

“I could say it, but it wouldn’t be very honest.”  Again, a small laugh left his lips. 

“Do you think we could pretend?” You took a deep breath as he quirked his eyebrow. “Ya know, that I didn’t just make a complete fool of myself?”

“But that’s not true! Daddy said when something’s not true it’s a lie and lies are bad.” The boy chimed in again, earning a chuckle from both adults. You bent down to talk to him. 

“You are absolutely right, lying is bad.” You nodded along with him, matching his serious expression. 

He took in your expression, as if judging the sincerity of your statement. Slowly, a smile began to form as if he was glad you agreed with him. “Do you want to play tag with us?”

Looking from him to his father, you took the slight smile and nod of his head as an invitation to accept his offer. “I would love to.”

That series of accidents led you to where you are now, though. A year and a half later you are sitting in your shared home, watching Aaron Hotchner do paperwork for what feels like the millionth night in a row. More realistically, it is the ninth night in a row, but you’re feeling lonely and dramatic. Those nine nights have been spread out over the past month, interrupted by nights he spends away from home.

You yearn to be closer to him. All it would take is for you to cross the room, but it feels as though the distance from the couch you are lounging on to the desk he is working at is too far, like there is some impassible divide preventing you from interrupting him. 

So you just keep watching. It has been 36 minutes since you started your observing. If he sticks to his pattern, he’ll pause in nine minutes to stretch, giving him the opportunity to notice your eyes on him.  You’re hopeful that this time he’ll smile when he sees you. 

So you wait. You watch him read. You notice the way his head dips just a bit lower as he tries to focus tired eyes on the smudged handwriting of a fellow agent. You notice how his hand squeezes the pen tighter than before, turning the once smooth glide of ink across the page into rushed, jagged strokes of letters. You notice the barely there wince as he flips the page, the result of the familiar feeling of a paper cut he’s grown all too used to. You notice everything he does. Which is why you’re not surprised when he speaks. 

“You’re staring.” 

Glancing at your phone, you note the time. Nine minutes later. Right on schedule. The smile you hoped for is noticeably missing, replaced by a curious tilt of his head.

“I’m basking in your presence.” 

If he wanted to, he could figure out how lonely and dramatic you are feeling. But with the majority of his energy still directed towards the many reports on his desk, he only notices the surface level. Tired, slightly miffed, but enjoying that he is home.

There was once a time when he would have noticed it all though. A time when he noticed everything about you, sometimes before you had even noticed it about yourself. You’ve learned how to hide it though, to save him the energy that would be expended to profile you. 

“You should consider a new career path. Comedy could really be for you.”

His deadpan joke doesn’t surprise you, but him rising from his desk chair does. For a minute, you expect him to come to you. To attempt to cross the impassible divide you’ve built in your head. Instead, he turns into the kitchen. He pauses at the island, drinking from the glass he never brings to his desk to prevent anything from ruining his files. 

When he returns to his desk, squandering any lingering hope that he may have been done for the night, you rise. Unwilling to do what you had hoped of him, you turn away from his desk and move toward the stairs. Just before you lose sight of him, you turn back. 

“Don’t forget to sleep tonight.” 

Your tone is soft, emphasizing your concern to cover up the lingering loneliness. 

“I’ll be up soon.”

You respond with a slight nod of your head, another thing unnoticed by Aaron as his eyes never left the files. 

You flitter through the second level as you complete your routine to prepare yourself to sleep for the night. 

You can’t help but notice the cold sheets on the empty side of the bed as you wait for Aaron, knowing you’ll likely be asleep before he comes to bed. 

--

You’re surprised to wake up the next morning with Aaron still in bed next to you. You watch his chest rise and fall with the steady in and out of his breath. His face is fully relaxed, a sight you so rarely get to see. 

You’re not sure how long you watch him sleep, but you notice when his rhythmic breathing changes pattern indicating he’s waking up. His eyes flutter open slowly, allowing you to see the exact moment he notices you. 

“You’re staring again.” 

The smile you are still hoping for is again absent from his face, too used to the frown that has taken over his features near permanently for the past month.  

“I’m still basking in your presence.”

You notice the beginnings of a grin forming on his face. The twinkle in his eyes. The slight twitch of his lips. It’s nearly there when the moment is interrupted by the distinct, shrill ringtone indicating a call from the bureau. 

You watch as he sits up to answer the phone with his typical “Hotchner”. If you hadn’t spent the last year noticing everything you could about the man, you would doubt that he had been asleep less than three minutes ago. 

His brows furrow, his body leaning forward to sit a little straighter as he takes in the information from whoever is on the other end of the phone. His eyes trace the pattern of your comforter, up until he throws the blanket off of himself to rise to his feet. He’s changing into his suit before hanging up. Without even hearing his responses, you can tell where this is headed. 

After he hangs up, you speak before he has the chance. 

“I take it you won’t be here for dinner with my parents tonight? I’ll try to reschedule it.” 

The question should express your loneliness, but you do well to hide the full truth. It’s easy to sound understanding because you are. You do understand, which is why you never plan to tell him how you feel. 

The grim expression is enough for you to know you’re right, you don’t need the verbal confirmation. You nod your head, a smile on your face that doesn’t meet your eyes as he walks out of your bedroom. 

--

While Aaron was away, you did everything you could to keep yourself busy outside of your typical 9 to 5 workday. Aside from the typical reading, cleaning, and TV watching you normally do you; you successfully navigated another conversation with your parents about why it was necessary to reschedule dinner a second time and played action figures with Jack, always in agreement about how his daddy is a hero. 

Every night you found yourself staring at the door, hoping it would swing open and reveal him on the other side. Every night you grew less hopeful and more discouraged than the one previous. 

--

Five days after he left, Aaron returned to your shared home. Despite the late hour, you waited for him on the couch. Knowing he probably hadn’t eaten dinner, you kept some food warm for him. 

When the door swung open, you were in front of it in seconds. You pulled him into a hug, one he was too exhausted to reciprocate, and kissed his cheek. 

Moving farther into the house, he dropped his files on his desk swiftly turning to head upstairs. 

“I kept dinner warm for you.”

Your words stalled him at the bottom of the stairs. He turned around slowly, barely looking at you.

“I actually ate with the team tonight.”

His words hit you like a bus, but you turned to hide it. He didn’t eat with the team often, so you never blamed him when he stayed with them a bit longer than usual. 

“Oh, okay. I’ll just put it in a container for tomorrow then. Did you want to talk about the case?”

You’ve always been willing to help him carry the weight of his job, but you’ve been trying harder to get him to open up this past month. Typically he brushes you off, tells you he’s fine, and then buries himself in paperwork. 

He surprised you this time. Maybe he could tell you were upset, or maybe he was just too far in his head. Either way, rather than continuing on his path up the stairs, he moved to sit in the kitchen while you put the food away. 

You listened as he ranted about the local officers withholding information about the case. You listened as he complained about the poor weather. You listened to every word, slowly washing and drying the dishes until they were sparkling. You listened until you were practically asleep, leaning against the sink. You didn’t dare to interrupt in fear he would shut down again. Or maybe it was you shutting down, but that’s a thought for another time. 

When he finished talking, he rose from his chair, too worked up to sleep now, he sat down at his desk. 

You watched, noticing everything you could. 

--

Your weeks repeated much the same for the next few months. Your loneliness morphed into something new with each night you spent watching Aaron work. 

It’s one such night when everything changes. You were trying to watch him work, but your thoughts drifted away from his actions as you lost yourself in your memories. 

The first case Aaron went on after you moved in with him and Jack was the hardest for you. After a straight week of seeing him so often around the house, it felt like a slap in the face to come home and not have him there. Somehow you made it through, and you were clingier than usual when he came home. 

He noticed how it affected you. That was before you started hiding your feelings from him. He told you he thought about you in every spare moment. That he wanted to solve the case even more than usual just so he could come home to see you even just a few minutes sooner.

He calmed all of your fears, protecting you from your own intrusive thoughts about holding him back when he was working. 

You couldn’t help but think about every time he recognized how you were feeling and did what he could to help. How he would reassure you that he wanted to be with you, bringing you little key chains or stuffed animals from the cities he travelled to. How he would smile when he saw you. Where was that man now? 

You thought back to the first day you met Aaron. It was like he saved you from a terrible day, bringing a smile to your face after hours upon hours of crap. 

“Do you think we could pretend?” You laugh lightly to yourself at the memory of Jack telling you not to lie.  Not realizing you spoke the words out loud, you’re surprised to hear Aaron from across the room.

“Pretend what?” The confusion is clear in his voice and the furrow of his brows. 

“Hmm? Oh, um. I was just thinking about the first day we met.” Tears begin to brim your eyes as you think about how much everything has seemed to change. ���And how you became my whole world and now I feel like I’m begging for footnotes in the story of your life.” The tears are now freely falling down your face. 

Aaron looks even more confused now. “What?” He’s frozen at his desk, pen in hand, reports on the surface in front of him. 

“I’m so sorry. I just feel like I’m taking up so much of your time and you have such important things to do! God, I’m so selfish. I’ve tried so hard to hide it though, so you can focus on people who actually need your help.” The panic in your voice grows as you speak, along with the tears falling from your eyes. 

“Y/N...” Suddenly, Aaron is on his feet, easily crossing the imaginary divide you’ve built in between the couch and his desk. He slows down, moving gently as he pulls you into him on the couch, moving your legs across his lap so he could pull you into his chest. “Sweetheart, you could never take up too much of my time.” He speaks slowly, so as not to start another round of sobbing. 

“What?” Your confusion is clearly communicated with the one word question, but you’re on a roll with your feelings so why stop now. “Are you saying it’s all in my head? Bu-, but, but you’ve been so busy every time you’ve been home! I’ve barely seen you, and I’ve tried so hard to not let it bother me because I know how important what you do is! I do, I understand it all so much. I could never be mad at you for working so hard. I just feel like you’re tolerating me being here when you have so many more important things to do.” 

Now breathless, your rant ends with more tears forming in your eyes. Aaron is quick to wipe them away as they fall. “You’re right. I have been busy.” His voice is full of concern and regret as he thinks about the past few months. “But please don’t ever doubt for a second that you are the most important thing in the world to me.” He pauses for a second before continuing. “Well, other than Jack.” This earns him a slight chuckle from you before you reply. 

“Jack is the most important to me too.” Your clear your throat, hesitant to voice your next question. “You’re not mad at me?”

Aaron looks so taken aback, you would laugh if you weren’t so nervous. “I could never be mad at you. Especially not for having completely valid feelings. I’m so sorry I haven’t been as present as I should’ve been. I love you so much, Y/N. More than I could ever put into words, and I will be doing a better job of showing you just how much you mean to me from now on.” There’s a slight edge to his voice, as though he’s annoyed with himself for you feeling this way. “Please, don’t ever hide your feelings from me. I never want to lose you.” His own voice is cracking, slight tears in his eyes at the idea of you not being in his life. 

“I promise.” You lean up to kiss him, trying to convey just how much you’ve missed him. 

“Let’s go to bed.” He lifts you up from the couch, carrying you toward the stairs. 

You shriek, clinging to him even more. “It’s only 9:15!” You laugh at his antics. “What about your reports?”

“I have more important things to do right now.” He smirks at you, quickly moving into the bedroom to show you just how much he cares about you. 

permanent tag list:

@mac99martin @goldeng1rl8 @measure-in-pain

[vergess]

This is such a blatant, malicious warping of the actual events.

First of all, tags used to be easier to avoid. In the old days, circa 2012, only the first 5 tags on a post were indexed to the tag feed. So, it was common practice to, for example, use the tags "NSFW, Not safe for work, adults only, porn, pornography" to eat up the first 5 tags on explicit works, then tag the ships, content, etc to organize your blog safe in the knowledge that you would only be posting porn to the porn tags.

Then the "search"new tag search" (my term, not theirs) was introduced. This was around 2014? 2013? It was before acecourse really took off, because it helped fuel a lot of acecourse's more heinous behaviours.

See, tumblr has always been a majority adult, majority NSFW website. This is reflected in the app stores' age ratings being 17+. Which, you'll notice is distinct from the 18+ that denotes "adult only" in the US. This is because anyone over 13 has always been able to register on tumblr. This was and is common practice on much of the internet today, eg facebook, twitter, youtube, etc. It's broadly accepted that children may be guests in these places, in the same way they may be guests at a sports bar on quiz night. So long as no one gives the children alcohol, the adults are welcome to drink.

But, many users had previously avoided porn on tumblr simply by not knowing where to look for it. This combined with a strict politeness about tagging NSFW for the benefit of fellow working adult users of the site, led to a small but vocal subset of users who genuinely had no idea about the porn thing.

Until the new tag search dropped.

Suddenly it was much harder to avoid porn. You needed a blacklist of some sort, which tumblr wouldn't introduce as a native feature for many years. Blacklists were critical for managing your tumblr experience in those days. Tumblr saviour, missing e, eventually the first xkit. They all addressed the need for blacklisting now that you couldn't politely avoid posting your porn to everyone.

Because, again, tumblr has always been a majority NSFW, majority adult website. Since its very inception, this has been true. Tumblr has never, for one single moment, been "for kids."

There are websites for kids, you know. Not as many of them as there used to be in like 2005. But they do still exist.

Tumblr is not and cannot be one of them.

Because tumblr has, since its inception, been "for" artists. That mission was frequently degraded, to the point that many people don't even remember this. But there was a time when the popular joke on "fandom tumblr" was that tumblr had "two continents." There was "art tumblr" and "fan tumblr," which was a known, smaller newcomer.

Today you still see echoes of that joke in the phrase "the science side of tumblr."

Anyway. Porn became unavoidable.

This shocked some of the kids who hadn't known they were using a porn website, but they generally quickly recovered because the contemporary horror surrounding the concept of sex was actively being fought in the popular culture of the time. See also: slut walks, female toplessness in the US.

More importantly. It horrified two groups of adults. The extremist christians, and the TERFs.

Extremist christians were quickly laughed off by most tumblr users, even the kids. This is because extreme christianity wasn't nearly as popular to discuss publically 10 years ago, when some dim concept of "separation of church and state" was still considered acceptable in a public space either.

TERFs, however, were mostly adult women, often queer, but just as often painfully capital-S Straight And Cis. Still. Often queer women. Queer adult women.

They had an extremely easy time presenting themselves as mentors and kindly protectors to any queer kid who stumbled into a bit of properly tagged porn and expressed discomfort.

To put it plainly, they were predatory. Their prey were queer teens and young adults desperate for guidance in a violently queerphobic world.

They nurtured the feelings of discomfort in their prey, purposely exposing them to uncomfortable and adult topics on purpose. Literally grooming these children, for real.

That is what bred the anti-porn minority on tumblr. Adult women who couldn't cope with the idea of trans people existing, and literally created controversy after controversy to ensure that there were always kids on tumblr exposed to violence, despite the best efforts of any normal user. TERFs started anti-asexual discourse on tumblr. Anti-nonbinary discourse. The entire "tucute vs truscum" mess (note: truscum literally named themselves 'scum' on purpose and now pretend they are being insulted). TERFs looking for victims underlie every single "queer discourse" tumblr has ever had. That includes anti-porn and anti-kink discourse.

And to be clear, this entire problem started with a poor decision on tumblr staff's part.

Then tumblr got sold to corporate masters, with corporate money. Unironically, the developers and staff were being held hostage and forced to be as user hostile as possible.

That included cuts to (or else refusal to properly grow and manage) the user support team who handle reports for bugs, harassment, etc. There were many years where you could send in a dozen clear and explicit murder threats including your geographic location to staff, and get no response.

YEARS.

So people's distrust of staff grew as they were forced to worsen everything, including but not limited to making it harder to blacklist the god. Damned. Porn.

Thus the fire remained fueled for years.

And in the mean time, political sentiment in the united states went FUCKING. INSANE. Every single basic civil right we have all come to take for granted in the US has abruptly disappeared. Now to be fair they were always tenuous, but this shit is bananas. It was done with such glee, despite the vast majority of US Americans being horrified.

But our cities were literally designed to make it as easy as possible for the military (or the militarized police) to take over, so I can see why some hesitance is warranted.

Anyway, it was in the early days of this fervor that the bills SESTA and FOSTA were passed. Advertised as a way to stop sex trafficking, they failed completely. They literally made sex trafficking worse. That's not a joke, there have been studies done.

They passed 6 months before the porn ban.

Now, one thing of note did happen during that six months.

An actual ring of child abusers sharing violent images of their victims was genuinely discovered on tumblr. This was reported to the correct authorities immediately, and handled by the feds as was appropriate.

I know this, because my moirail (yes, I am in fact that kind of homestuck fan) was the one to file the initial report.

Now, let's say you're a major corporation like, oh... verizon. You have a website that could be held liable for aiding child trafficking. It's absurdly unlikely, but the possibility exists. Your investors and business partners are breathing down your neck, including the notoriously hard to please Apple. Sex workers are pretty famously a significant part of your user base, even.

They banned porn because the US government went fucking insane 6 months earlier and no one knew yet if that shit was going to go to court.

But of course the long time anti-porn TERFs on tumblr celebrated this as a huge victory.

Meanwhile every normal person was panicking over the loss of history.

Which apparently we were right to because it's barely been 5 years and this shit is passed down like facts from on high.

The porn ban had nothing to do with your disgusting, TERF fuelled, impotent attempts to get queer sex re-criminalized. You malignant shits just happened to have the same goals as literal fascists, namely putting more people in danger while claiming it's for their own safety.

Anyway, tumblr has since been resold and that's a whole separate thing but to be clear? To be crystal fucking clear?

The goddamned US government's hatred of sex as manifested by SESTA/FOSTA caused the fucking porn ban.

Your petty little ego is, tragically, not as impressive as the imperial capital's descent into fascism.

cgl literally is the reason tumblr rules say no porn. they couldnt keep it in their own tags and started harassing minors lmao. it got really bad leading up to the porn ban

Literally not the case, but please do continue to hate on a kink in my inbox, I will totally support you eventually I'm sure!!!