#statue trauma is a real problem

[sophfandoms53]

This screenshot is one of my favorite things from the episode bc every character’s reaction to a literal building caving in on them is so fucking funny.

The two shark/fish demons on the left are just staring wide eyed.

The other shark demon on the right is placing his hat on his chest and just accepting this is his fate now.

Crimson is in utter confusion and disbelief about what the hell just happened.

Meanwhile Striker is clearly having flashbacks to when his statue fell on him.

And finally, my personal favorite, Alessio just casually places his hand in front of Crimson (like a mom does when you go to cross the street before the light changes) as if that’s going to protect his boss in any way from the cave in.

[locria-writes]

What do you mean wholesome boy has attempted to kill her MULTIPLE times!?

TO BE FAIR....at that time, he had no idea who she was nor did he care, while she only knew of him, but they did have a mutual respect for each other!

all 20 of his attempted kills were more aimed at other people, with the mindset of "i need to kill xyz, and to do that, people nearby will probably die and that's a sacrifice i'm willing to make."

all 49 of her attempted kills were explicitly aimed at him, and while she wasn't actively pulling the trigger (except for the 49th time), she just sort of assisted in the planning process lol. the 49th attempted murder is the only one i'd actually classify as such, and the onus is completely on her since they were already pretty close by that point.

it's okay though!!!! they both apologized for mutually trying to kill each other on their first date, and she only bullied him a little bit, okay. they're both very healthy, mature, and emotionally stable adults who can talk through their problems mostly.

[goleb]

I have to hand my final thesis topic in tomorrow and I am SO stuck on it. How do people even come up with these things. 

[athena5898]

I often think when people hear "infantilizing a group of people", they think of it literarily that we are actively being made a infant. While this is a part of it, I think people miss the subtle things that end up causing chasms in their relationships with that group of people.

It's actually hard to pinpoint because it's never a singular event, it's many tiny things but the end result is always "I am the authority, I will always know more then you, I will never take your advice, I will never be honest with you (you know to spare *your* feelings), any disagreement is your fault, any problem in your life is my cross to bear and you must follow how I tell you to fix it, I will never stoop myself to understanding what your needs are as X group and will view everything from my own lens and judge you accordingly, we are not equals, and we never will be. (This is not a exhausted list, nor will everyone have all the same traits)

It is very hard to connect with someone who just automatically assumes a higher status to you just because of something you can't change. All the while the offender thinks what they are doing is actually a good thing. They are somehow helping you by just assuming they are better then you (which in the end, that's kinda what this is).

I have a few people in my life that I care for a lot, but they are not that much older then me yet they act like I can't possibly understand them and automatically shove this "child" label on my forhead.

And here is the thing, they will voluntarily bring up why they think this if you pay attention. It might be trauma they've dealt with, it might be that they have kids and you don't, age, or anything else like this. However I think it's important to note that I have friends who do not talk down to me and respect me as my own person with autonomy and also have these things going on in their life. So it's not like it's impossible to treat someone with respect and have these differences.

Now what do some of these subtle differences look like? There are many ways they can materialize but to name a few.

- Demanding the person solves a problem their way despite the person telling them why their circumstances do not allow that.

- assuming...well anything and all the time. These people have a tendency to think they know exactly what you are feeling and other such things and if you try to correct them then they will actually get upset at you or show some type of passive aggressiveness.

-Speaking on your behalf without asking permission

-never valuing your expertise on any subject. They are older/more mature then you, therefore to them they know more about everything. What's really fun (/s) about this is when they will explain to you, why you are wrong, by repeating what you said back at you.

- any reason why you can't do a thing, or why you need an aide is an excuse. You could do it if you *really* wanted to, but you are just being lazy. Now the real adult has to take up your burden.

- they do not/cannot listen to you. No matter what you say or how you say it, or if they even confirm what you say, there is always a part of them that is not listening. Or hell, they could of listened to you, but since what you say isn't important to them, they will quickly forget it and may even try and claim you never said anything to them.

- I'm not sure if this counts as infantilizing, but I notice that it happens a lot in tandem. While they think less of you and treat you like a child whose facts and opinions don't matter, all of this will change at a moment's notice when they need something from you...oddly enough something they probably normally do not take seriously from you on a normal day. Suddenly thrusting you with this burden of taking care of them even though they are never there for you in any meaningful actually helpful way most of the time. Like you will literally be demanded to stop what you are doing, and get over whatever you are going through to help them and their problem. I cannot explain how frustrating it is to be demanded to be the mature one while most of the time being denied respect.

I could go on, but honestly if I sat here and thought of every single tiny thing they do to make sure there is distance between you and them up on their self made pedestals, I'd be here all day.

The worst part on all of this is that I have no idea how to resolve it. People who do this are not inherently bad people, hell they might not even realize they do it. But this can actually make it more difficult to bring to their attention. I have tried many ways and many different times to resolve this, but I haven't been successful yet. Anyone who has corrected themselves were people who just had a little mess up but still obviously viewed me as a person from the start.

These subtle ways someone can dehumanize you, it can cause terrible rifts and of course the other person never understands why (see point above about not listening)

I am writing this as a autistic person, but I know there are others who go through this. Please check the ways you create artificial authority over someone.

Edit: someone reblogged this with hashtags about how we shouldn't do this to children either and I completely agree, I was using the term because it's the one often used to explain these things. Adding the edit cause I have no idea how to respond to the hashtag thing and I think it's a important thing to note.

[harrywavycurly]

Summary: Eddie Munson has two problems, he is lonely and is tired of spending money on just himself. Lucky for Eddie his good friend Steve Harrington knows just the person to help solve these little problems, and of course that person would be you. You’re newly single after ending things with your loser ex boyfriend and Steve just wants you to experience the finer things in life for a change as well as seeing what it’s like to be treated with kindness and respect. You don’t really know Eddie and Eddie doesn’t really know you but one thing is for certain, he will make sure you get exactly what you deserve♥️

Pairing: Sugar Daddy Eddie Munson x fem!reader

CW: Mentions of a toxic past relationship, language and the briefest mentions of violence (Eddie has a temper)

Status: Ongoing

Tag List: Open

A/N: I wanted this series to be a little different and it will still be fluffy but will also include dealing with past relationship trauma✨

Instagrams: Here

Conversations: Here

Everything Else: Here

*you’ll find everything in the correct order below*

Part 1: Think About It

Part 2: Dave

Part 3: Start Small

Part 4: Overwhelmed

Part 5: Details

Part 6: Not Real

Part 7.1: Not Okay

Part 7.2: Up Late

Part 8: You Have Five

Part 9: Teacher

[fredwkong]

Dr. Li, Hypnotherapist

Austin couldn’t see any other solutions than booking a session with the hypnotherapist. He knew that he’d been moping for weeks, so when his friend finally snapped and told him to get some help, Austin had taken the referral and gotten on Dr. Li’s waiting list.

His thirtieth birthday a few years ago had been a bit of a wake-up call for Austin. Years of overwork and poor diet were slowly reversing as he took better care of his body, and for the first time, he felt proud of his looks. He knew he had a long way to go, but he was hoping to attain proper hunk status before he turned forty. He knew that he gave off the impression of being a clean-cut, intelligent guy with a pretty classic sense of style and, he hoped, a charming personality.

And yet, well, that hadn’t been enough to save his relationship.

Thankfully, the referral from his friend fast-tracked Austin up the waiting list, and a week or so later he scheduled his first appointment with Dr. Li and showed up at the low-key office just outside the financial district.

Sitting in the waiting room, listening to the burble of the little rock fountain in the corner, Austin found himself suddenly overwhelmed with second thoughts. He didn’t have real problems, after all. He was just being a baby about the breakdown of a 4-year relationship. Surely someone else could use this time better than him. Plus, what if he couldn’t do it? What if the hypnotherapy didn’t work for him? Dr. Li’s reviews were fantastic, but everyone underreported their failed clients.

Just as Austin was about to stand up and leave, the door of Dr. Li’s office opened to let out a cute young man with a blissful smile on his face. The guy blinked owlishly at Austin for a moment, his eyelids fluttering slightly, then he licked his lips lasciviously and drifted out the door.

A smooth, resonant, eminently masculine voice came from inside the office. “Forgive Terry,” it said, “he prefers to remain in trance for a few hours after our sessions. Please come in, Austin.”

Nervously, Austin stepped through the door to find a well-built Chinese man in a suit lounging in a comfortable armchair. Across from him in the office sat a long couch. It looked perfect for lying down on. The man, Dr. Li, had a few grey streaks at his temples, but still filled out his suit like a much younger man might. As Austin came in, he stood up, putting aside a small notebook that he had been writing in.

“Welcome to your first session, Austin,” said Dr. Li in that smooth, rich voice, giving him a firm handshake. “Please have a seat on the couch and make yourself comfortable. Would you like anything to drink?”

Once the two of them were settled—Austin took a glass of water, while Dr. Li refilled a thermos of herbal tea—the hypnotherapist continued, “My job is to help you achieve your full potential and free your deepest desires. To do that, I will most likely put you into a trance to unlock your unconscious wishes and help your brain make important changes. But first, let’s just have a conversation. Tell me about yourself, Austin. What brought you into my office today?”

With cues from Dr. Li, delivered in his calm, almost musical voice, Austin found the story spilled out easily. His attempts at self-improvement had been dismissed by his boyfriend, then actively sabotaged as his boyfriend worried that Austin improving might cause him to move on. Finally, Austin had kicked him out, and then gone into a spiral of self-hatred that resulted in his friend recommending Dr. Li’s unique methods for achieving goals and moving past trauma.

As the conversation continued, Austin found that he spoke less and less as Dr. Li spoke more, voicing gentle encouragement and affirmations that seemed to resonate inside Austin’s head, crowding out distractions and thoughts. Austin’s eyelids fluttered as a tingling feeling washed over his body. He just felt…so relaxed. He should just listen to Dr. Li’s voice and sink deeper into this sensation. He should lie down on the couch. He should…

Sleep.

…

Wake up.

Austin’s eyes blinked open. He felt calm, refreshed, alert. He felt better than he had in a long time. I looked over at Dr. Li, struggling to keep his eyes from falling closed.

“Very good, Austin,” said the hypnotist, his voice causing a tingle of pleasure through Austin’s body. “You’re a natural at this.”

“I…am?” Austin’s voice came out fuzzy, surprising him. He felt so awake, but he couldn’t seem to think through anything. He just had to trust Dr. Li.

“Yes, you’re a very good subject.” Austin felt another tingle of pleasure. It felt good to be praised. “You told me some of your unconscious desires, and I think you have a lot of potential for us to unlock together. But to do that, we have to get you into an even deeper trance.”

Austin drifted for a moment before he felt the response bubble to the top of his mind. “Okay.”

“Very good.” Another twinge. “In that case, it’s time to sleep.”

…

“Fully awake now.”

Austin came awake with a deep breath. He lay in the feeling for a moment, savouring the deep calm in his body. Looking at his watch, he could see that over an hour had passed, but his memories past the first few minutes were hazy. He knew that Dr. Li had taken good care of him and should always be trusted.

“How do you feel, Austin?” Dr. Li asked, writing in his notebook. Austin thought he could see a dark spot in the crotch of the hypnotist’s slacks, as if he had been precumming while Austin was under, but Dr. Li was trustworthy and would tell him what he needed to know.

“I feel good.” There was just one thing bothering him: he couldn’t seem to get comfortable in his polo shirt. He fidgeted, pulling at it, but then he realised: it felt good to show off. He unbuttoned the neck buttons to reveal the top of his hairy pecs and immediately felt better. “What did we talk about?”

“It was a wide-ranging conversation,” Dr. Li replied. “Of course, you know I will tell you anything important that happens while you are in trance.”

Austin nodded.

“We discussed some of your unconscious desires, and I began to implement a few triggers to help you unlock your true self. Would you like me to explain them to you?”

Austin thought about it. It didn’t seem too important to spend a long time talking about the specific triggers, since Dr. Li was so trustworthy. “Nah, I kind of want to be surprised,” he said.

“I thought you might be.” Dr. Li smiled, looking up from his notebook. “One of your unconscious desires is to be externally controlled while you’re along for the ride. I think that hypnotherapy will be a very good fit for you.”

Austin couldn’t help but agree. It felt good to have someone else at the wheel. There was something about listening to Dr. Li’s gentle, deep voice that made Austin certain that Dr. Li had his best interests at heart.

After scheduling weekly sessions with Dr. Li, Austin left the office and started driving home. But on the way, he had the sudden thought that he should go to the gym. Usually, he preferred morning workouts, but he figured that an afternoon session couldn’t hurt. However, he hadn’t thought to pack gym clothes when he headed out of the house earlier.

While Austin pondered what to do about his lack of gym clothes, he pulled into the parking lot of his gym. As he engaged the parking brake, he turned to see a set of neatly folded gym clothes, and a new pair of runners, sitting in the passenger seat. The instant he looked at them, he suddenly remembered Dr. Li handing him the clothes while he was entranced. He had carried them out to the car and placed them neatly in the passenger seat without even realising what he was doing.

He felt his cock starting to harden in his boxers. Being unaware of his actions was hot. Going to the gym was probably something Dr. Li had told him to do, as well. Austin grabbed the clothes and jumped out of his car, pumped to get into the gym.

In the locker room, though, he felt momentarily confused. Usually, he wore knee-length shorts and a loose T-shirt in the gym, but the clothes Dr. Li had given him were a pair of short-shorts and a tight-fitting tank top that stretched over his thick torso. He felt a bit self-conscious looking in the mirror, but then he remembered it felt good to show off. The judgment of the skinny bros at the gym didn’t matter, because he was going to show off just for him.

The workout felt incredibly good. Austin was totally focussed on lifting while he was in the weight room. No other thoughts entered his head except for setting up his next workout and getting his form perfect. He even jumped on the elliptical, because good cardio is just as important as a good pump. After a couple of hours went by in a blur, Austin found himself walking out the gym’s front door, pumped, sweaty, and full of a pleasurable thrilled sensation.

Later that night, Austin was maintaining his Animal Crossing island when he was overcome with a need to email Dr. Li. Putting the game aside, Austin grabbed his phone and composed an email:

Doctor, I had a great workout today. I got a good baseline knowledge of my strength and endurance for my future sessions. Thank you very much for the new clothes, it felt good to show off my body in more revealing clothes. Austin

Sending the email, Austin watched the screen for a minute without moving until he heard the ping of an incoming email with Dr. Li’s reply:

Good boy.

Austin’s eyes rolled back as he felt a wave of pleasure through his whole body. It felt good to be praised.

For the next week, Austin went to the gym almost every day before work. Without his conscious control, his body implemented a push/pull/legs split, and after three days in the gym, he would find himself without the urge to work out for a day. Instead, he went shopping for new gym clothes because it felt good to show off and his old clothes just didn’t show off his body as much as he wanted. While he was out, he also bought a few new button-up shirts that he thought would show off his chest.

Each night, Austin emailed Dr. Li in the same thread and received a short reply from the hypnotist. Usually, it was some variation of “Good boy,” which made Austin feel wonderful because of how good it felt to be praised. Austin remarked in one email that he had gone out with friends and had two portions at dessert before going out to drink, which he felt badly about. Dr. Li replied, “Do you want to talk about cravings and portion control at our next session?” Austin thought about it, but he trusted Dr. Li to have his best interests at heart, so he replied, “Yes.”

Dr Li’s answer to that was, “Good boy.”

Finally, Austin’s next hypnotherapy session arrived. As he sat down on the couch, he could already feel the urge to fall into a trance again. It would be so easy to follow Dr. Li’s commands and sleep.

…

Wake up.

This time, Austin had no memory of time passing while he was entranced. He was lying on the couch again, and Dr. Li smiled at him as he sat up. “That was a very good session, Austin,” he said, his smooth voice strangely rough. “You fell into trance almost before you sat down.”

Austin nodded. “I was really excited to be hypnotised again, Doctor,” he said. The word “doctor” felt strange on his tongue for some reason. It was Dr. Li’s title, but Dr. Li deserved Austin’s complete respect at all times, and “doctor” just wasn’t enough.

Dr. Li smiled, seemingly at Austin’s discomfort, but that couldn’t be true, because Dr. Li had Austin’s best interests at heart. “You noticed some significant lifestyle changes last week, and you will probably continue to find things changing this week.”

“Yeah, I’m really excited,” Austin paused, feeling a word on the tip of his tongue, and then said, “Sir.” That felt right. When he called Dr. Li “Sir,” Austin felt that tingle of pleasure in his body, the knowledge that he had done something correctly.

Dr. Li’s smile widened. “Good boy,” he said in a low voice.

Austin shuddered. It felt good to be praised. “Thank you, Sir.”

In the waiting room, Austin nodded to another one of Dr. Li’s clients, a sullen young guy in a tracksuit who slouched into the hypnotherapist’s office. As they passed each other, Austin watched the guy’s face slacken, falling into trance before he passed the threshold of the office.

Austin went to the workout he felt the need to complete, but when he sat back down in his car, winded, sweaty and red-faced in his compression gear from a hard sprint at the end of his run, he still felt the need to run another errand. After a moment, the thought came to him: he had to go get his food prep at the grocery store. Feeling pleased that Dr. Li had responded to his concerns about his eating habits, Austin pulled out of the parking lot.

Usually, Austin had trouble resisting the allure of buying a fresh muffin or some other sweets while he was grocery shopping, but today the thought of sugary food repelled him. Instead, he found himself drawn to the spice aisle, where he grabbed soy sauce and a selection of various spices he’d never tried before. His mouth watered at the thought of all the vegetables and lean meat he’d be seasoning for his meal prep.

While meal prepping that night, Austin slowly came to the realisation that Dr. Li had apparently replaced Austin’s sweet tooth with a craving for intense spices. The aroma of his cooking had him choking slightly, but he was excited to get used to his new diet. And instead of craving a beer after dinner, Austin found himself sitting down on the couch with Pornhub loaded and an insistent erection in his new yoga pants. Getting off was the best way to get over his breakup, he thought, and started to browse.

While he was watching a video of a jock getting dropped into trance by the school psychologist, Austin realised that he needed to email Dr. Li. Still jacking off with one hand, he grabbed his phone off the coffee table and typed one-handed:

Sir, My workout went well. I hit a new deadlift PR. I’m going to measure myself tomorrow to update you on the size of my muscles. Grocery shopping and meal prep went very well, and I appreciate my new substitute cravings. Austin

When Dr. Li replied, “Very good, you’re making great progress,” Austin came hard. It felt so good to be praised.

Over the next months, Austin’s life continued to get better and better with Dr. Li’s help. Every time he slept and woke up, Austin felt like he was becoming more and more the person he was always meant to be. He was making great progress at the gym and improving his body composition, he loved to show off, and he felt more able to have fun with his friends than ever before.

One night, about a month into working with Dr. Li, Austin was feeling really good about his body. Almost his whole wardrobe had been replaced, his old gym clothes with shorter cuts and compression fabrics, and his work clothes with tailored pieces that hugged his growing body. Halfway through his evening jerk, all Austin could think about was how much he wanted people to see his sexy body. He ripped open his shirt and took a picture looking up his furry abs to his big pecs. He was so happy he’d decided to stop shaving.

He included it in his email to Dr. Li. His body was at least half the result of Dr. Li’s incredible hypnotherapy, so he figured the Doctor deserved to see the fruits of his labour.

It was only when Dr. Li replied, “Are you thinking of posting that online? I think it might be a good idea,” that Austin realised just how much he wanted people to see his sexy body. He stayed up a little late to set up several accounts on different sites where he could show off.

A few days later, Austin’s ex messaged him, but Austin blocked him. Before starting with Dr. Li, he would have been overjoyed to hear from the guy again, but he was too good to be the property of just one man. Most days that he worked out, Austin brought home a guy from the gym to help him satisfy his need to get off. On off days, he might have a few friends over, especially the guy who had referred him to Dr. Li.

Sleep.

…

Wake up.

Austin was a bit surprised when he woke up in a moving car. He was really good at going into trance these days. When he went for his sessions with Dr. Li, he would go into trance while sitting in the waiting room and not wake up until halfway through his workout afterward.

He was sitting in the middle aisle of a minivan. In the seat beside him was his friend, Dr. Li’s other client, while in the back seat sat Terry, the cute twink from Austin’s first session, the sullen guy who had his sessions after Austin’s, and some huge bodybuilder guy in a stringer tank, probably another client.

Dr. Li turned around from his seat in the front. Beside him in the driver’s seat was a big, muscular man. “Good afternoon, boys,” he said, his smooth voice washing over all of them like a wave. “Thank you for agreeing to accompany me today.”

That was right, Austin thought. He would do whatever Dr. Li requested. It didn’t matter if he didn’t remember, Dr. Li wouldn’t have done anything without confirming that Austin wanted to do it.

The van pulled up and parked somewhere. Looking out the window, Austin could see they were in a different city. A few men walked past the van, all in various states of undress, most of them wearing some kind of gear. Austin knew that he wanted people to see his sexy body, because it felt good to show off, but he wasn’t really much of a gearhead. Why should he cover up his body with something like leather when he could just undress and show off his hairy muscles?

Dr. Li looked around at all of them. The driver, too, seemed to be in a light trance now that he had stopped driving. The hypnotist smiled at them. “Well, are you ready, kinky boys?”

Leather Boy Austin shook his head, his last thoughts slipping away. They couldn’t have been very important. Stepping out of the van, he pawed at his fitted shirt. It was soft linen, not nice, solid, warm leather, and he couldn’t stand the feel of it against his skin. He efficiently stripped out of it, nodding to Dr. Li when the doctor passed him his pink leather chaps. It was too bad that a leather boy like him couldn’t wear it all the time. He just didn’t feel right when his furry muscle bod wasn’t coated in sexy leather gear.

As he sternly put on his gear, getting more and more into the leather boy mindset, Austin watched his rubber boy friend and the sullen sneaker boy get into their gear. The twinky pup boy Terry was yapping at the bodybuilder poser boy. Next to the van, Dr. Li was helping the husky pain boy put on his nipple clamps.

When they were all properly undressed, Leather Boy Austin helped Dr. Li herd the other kinky boys out into the street for the festival. The rest dispersed quickly, but Austin kept close to the hypnotist.

“I’m very glad to have you, Austin,” Dr. Li said, his voice once again resonating through Austin’s mind as they walked. “You were desperately in need of freedom from your own inhibitions when you first came to me. It took many sessions before you started to really blossom into the powerful young man I see before me.”

Leather Boy Austin puffed up his chest with pride at how good it felt to be praised. He was too stoic to respond effusively, but he grunted, “Thank you, Sir.”

“Oh, no need for formality between us now, Austin.” Dr. Li grabbed Austin by the elbow and jerked him around. Austin followed, because Dr. Li always knew what was best for Austin. “In fact, I think it’s time that I properly set you free.” The doctor grabbed Austin’s chin and roughly kissed him.

The kiss triggered all of Austin’s latent memories. He suddenly recalled all the hours of trance with Dr. Li, the careful programming of all his fitness habits, the thought patterns to make him show off and trust his hypnotist. He remembered how Dr. Li had installed the trigger to make him a kinky Leather Boy, but he could also knew that he could be triggered to be a flirty Dumb Boy, and a musky Ass Boy, whenever Dr. Li called him a flirty boy or a musky boy. He could taste the flavour of Dr. Li’s asshole on his tongue, from all the times that he had eaten him out while his triggers were implanted.

Most of all, he remembered loving every second of working with his hypnotist. Like Dr. Li had said at their first session, Austin wanted someone else to be in charge of him. It felt so good to be unknowingly under Dr. Li’s complete control, because he knew Dr. Li would take good care of him.

The sensation of his memories flooding back was so intensely erotic that Austin came into his leather chaps. He bucked into the kiss, tensing his muscles as his body was wracked with pleasure. Dr. Li held firmly onto his jerking body, and a few onlookers whooped and clapped. It felt so good to show off. Austin couldn’t believe that that thought had been implanted so deeply by the hypnotist in their very first session. The thought almost made him cum again.

Dr. Li pulled back from the kiss, and Austin felt two paths open in front of him. He remembered this session, too. These triggers were his own to think, just for himself. He could choose to remember all of the sessions, and he would remain lucid while under hypnosis in the future. He and Dr. Li would be equals from now on. On the other hand, he could lock all the memories away and go back to being unaware of the extent of Dr. Li’s influence over his mind, how the doctor could completely change his personality with a few words.

It was an easy decision.

Leather Boy Austin wasn’t sure how he had cum from a simple kiss from Dr. Li. He could recall that the kiss had been mind-blowing, but what he had been thinking about while they had kissed was hazy. Hopefully, the orgasm wouldn’t affect his performance at the orgy later.

“Thank you, Sir,” Leather Boy Austin grunted, smoothing his mussed hair back into place.

Dr. Li grinned at him in that slightly unsettling way of his. “You are a very good subject, Austin,” he murmured.

It felt good to be praised, Austin thought, shuddering with pleasure.

[celluloidbroomcloset]

I came across a few posts noting that Ed should not have told Stede not to kill Ned Low, which got me thinking...

I don't really agree with that. That entire scene, both Ed's decision and Stede's decision, is complicated with a lot of different things, but none of them quite so much as the shared knowledge, and pain, of both men. (Yeah, I'm not capable of not writing an essay.)

Stede is the only one who knows about Ed's father. Ed tells himself-as-Hornigold that he never told anyone about killing his father, and Hornigold reminds him: "But you did, though, didn't you? And he left you." Stede is also the only one who knows Ed really doesn't kill - that he, by his own admission, outsources the killing to others. The murder of his father is the center of Ed's self-loathing, and is the thing that he relates, in his conversation with Hornigold, most directly to Stede leaving him.

Low's insults don't affect Ed much; he's heard them before, he knows what's behind them. But Stede has been watching Low hurt people and things he loves - Ed, the crew, the ship itself - without being able to do anything about it. He successfully uses his "people positive management style" to get Low's crew to turn on him, but the problem of Low himself remains and cannot be eliminated in the same way.

Low calling Ed a "lowborn dirtbag" is what finally makes Stede snap, and one could argue that his response is more or less automatic. It's certainly emotional. There's nothing he could say to Low to put him in his place, as he did with the aristocrats in "Dressing Well." It wouldn't work; he cannot meet Low on a level playing field and use the same weapons against him, because Low's whole thing is being a bully and Stede is not a bully. Everyone, including Ed, is surprised when Stede actually draws his sword. But by the time he's done it, there's no going back.

Low obviously reads people quite well, and like many bullies he can suss out the places that will hurt others the most - he knows that torturing Stede will hurt Ed more than torturing Ed. He knows that insulting Ed will hurt Stede more than anything he could say to Stede himself. And he hits on Stede's fears about his masculinity and especially Ed's feelings about him. Low is another in a long line of bullies (Nigel, Chauncey, his father) from Stede's class, and he manages to hit exactly the sore spot, the fear that Ed only loves Stede because of his "bumbling amateur status."

Stede absolutely believes the things that others say about him. In the moment, Stede reads Ed's statement not to kill Low in exactly the way that Low wants him to - as a desire to keep him docile, pure, a pet. Not a real pirate, not a real man. He struggles with it - having gone so far as to hold Low at swordpoint and to force him onto the plank, it's hard to back down. His crew egg him on - Low does indeed deserve to die for what he's done. But when Stede kills Low, to the cheers of the crew, no one but the audience can see his face - the horror and shock at what he's done, as the memories of his childhood shoot across his mind.

As soon as Stede's actually committed the murder, he realizes the true meaning behind Ed's words, and it's this, combined with the shock of having truly, directly, and deliberately killed a man, that sends him running back to his cabin. Stede sees himself as a child, the boy who just wanted to pick flowers, splattered with blood from "men's work." He cannot go back now; he's made a choice, and he murdered a man. He does exactly what he's done each time his own shame has become too much for him, and hides himself.

But when Ed comes to his room, he directly relates it to his own trauma - "I was a wreck after my first kill as well. Well, it was my dad..." He's there not to shame Stede either for his violence or for his self-perceived weakness, but to be present for him.

That traumatic past is part of what unites them. Stede was forced to witness death and was told it was what men do; Ed committed murder, and has been haunted by it ever since. Ed sees the potential of the same thing happening to Stede - being so overcome with guilt and shame at actively committing murder that he suppresses and remakes his self to avoid coping with the horror of what he has done. It doesn't matter that Stede is a grown man and Ed was a child; Ed knows how badly it can warp someone, and Ed knows better than anyone how the abused child becomes the traumatized man. He tries to warn Stede first, recalling their past, and then he shows up for Stede in a way that no one did, or could, for him - not until Stede himself extended his hand and said, "I'm your friend." Ed is there at the door within minutes, asking if Stede is OK, offering his support, not letting him hide alone if he needs someone to hold him.

I've said a lot about the progress from the moment Ed appears at the door to the moment Stede closes the curtain here, but again I don't think it should be read as Stede proving his masculinity or Ed feeling sorry for him. Sex is not being treated frivolously here, either by the show or by the characters. It is an outpouring of pain and grief and deep, intense love between two men who understand each other's suffering at a fundamental level, who have shared things with each other that no one else knows, and who see all of each other, the darkness as well as the light.

[sundrop-writes]

From Your Lips

Jennifer Jareau x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary:

After JJ is attacked by dogs on the Hankle farm, everyone else is busy worrying about Reid’s missing status, but you take the time to check on JJ and try your best to calm her flustered mind.

Jennifer Jareau x Gender Neutral Reader. Established Relationship. Smut, Hurt and Comfort. Set during Season 2, Episode 15.

Word Count: 3,000

Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link

THIS IS A RE-POST. This is a fic from my old blog (a blog that was shadowbanned, forcing me to move). This fic is not stolen, it is completely mine, and I am just re-posting it to help people find my new blog, and to make my masterlist complete when I post new fics for this fandom.

Detailed warnings and author’s notes below the cut.

Warnings: this is set during Season 2, Episode 15 (“Revelations”); warnings for themes/plot points from the canon episode - rabid dogs, mentions of JJ being attacked by dogs, mentions of dogs eating/killing a woman (a random woman who is not named here), animal death - mentions of JJ having to shoot the dogs (killing them) in self defence, gun violence, mentions of Reid being kidnapped (no details of that are discussed in this fic), religious themes (in this fic, religious motifs are used to encourage sexual behaviour - spoken about as though God made us to have sex with each other, not to discourage it as the Christian religion does); symptoms of shock/PTSD - JJ waves a gun in the reader’s face because she’s scared; general emotional angst, mentions of JJ blaming herself for Reid being kidnapped; mentions of blood (from JJ’s injuries); the reader is completely gender neutral - there are no identifying pronouns used for the reader (other than the ‘you’ I generally use for fics) and the reader’s genitals are not described in any specific way; use of Y/N, mentions of a pre-established sexual relationship between JJ and the reader - it could be a friends with benefits situation, it could be secret lovers, it’s never quite specified; JJ is more submissive and the reader is more dominant, but there is no outright dom/sub relationship; the reader calls JJ 'Jay’, 'sweet girl’, 'sweets’, and 'good girl’; using sex to distract from one’s emotional problems; (technically) semi-public sex because they’re in the bathroom where anyone could walk in on them (but they’re not caught by anyone); kissing/heated making-out; the reader fingers JJ; neck biting/marking (JJ receiving); hair-pulling(JJ receiving); praise kink; clothed/mostly clothed sex; I believe that’s everything.

A/N: This was primarily inspired by the picture of JJ on the right. I saw it and I was like 'damn she fine’ but I knew it was from Revelations so I was like 'damn she fine but I know she’s havin a real bad time rn’ - so I did the thing I do best: smut based off emotional trauma. This is basically the scene where Emily comes to talk to her in the bathroom, but replacing Emily with a reader character and then they fuck. Also the title comes from the phrase 'from your lips to God’s ears’ because religious imagery. I had so much fun with this lmao. I hope you enjoy it!

...

You couldn’t help but to feel bad for JJ. 

You knew that everyone was concerned about Reid - rightfully so. Worried about where he was, if he was alive or not. But you were the type of person who preferred to focus on the things you could control - the things right in front of you. JJ was someone you had known for long enough that you knew how to comfort her, and you pushed the ‘what-ifs’ about Reid to the back of your mind in favor of focusing on her. 

You knew that she was intensely shaken up by the entire situation. Not only the fact that she had been nearly mauled by a couple of dogs, pieces of her skin torn up and marred. But it was the fact that the team knew for certain that those same dogs had ripped a woman apart only a few days ago. You knew that JJ hated being forced to shoot those dogs. She was someone with a tender heart. You knew that all of this was affecting her. 

On top of all that, she was likely blaming herself for Reid being put in danger, even though there was nothing she could have done to save him. 

While everyone was gathered in the main room, looking through Hankle’s things for any hint as to where he had taken Reid, you moved toward the back of the house, knowing that JJ had gone to the bathroom to ‘freshen up’. You knew her well enough to easily pick up that it was code for her needing a moment to escape from everyone else in some attempt to calm down. 

The door to the bathroom was open just a crack, so you took a peek, not wanting to startle her by knocking. 

You could see her hunched over the sink, stress knit through her muscles as she gripped the sides of the porcelain. You felt a twinge of guilt flow through you as the thought occurred to you - even in such a state of duress, she was so beautiful. Painted in agony or pleasure, she was gorgeous.

She looked almost angelic like this, and you hated to believe that torture looked good on someone like her. (Perhaps it was the fact that you had seen her ‘tortured’ before - sweaty and begging, half on the brink of madness as she pleaded to get your tongue between her thighs once again.) 

You found your eyes admiring the sliver of skin that peeked out between her white button up and the low waist of her simple black dress pants. You found yourself wanting to actually smack yourself as a form of scolding when you couldn’t help but to admire the gentle dip of her waist and the curve of her ass. 

You felt sinful for thinking such carnal thoughts, even when she was so wrought with stress, clearly so wrecked from the night’s events. 

Perhaps it was the fact that you had come so close to losing her, and now that urge to possess her bubbled closer to the surface than ever. But you pushed it down as you gently nudged open the bathroom door. 

When the creak of the hinges echoed through the room, you certainly did not expect to be greeted with a gun in your face. 

JJ had whipped around much faster than you expected, and pointed her Bureau issued glock right at you. Clearly, she expected you to be a threat. The look in her eyes was positively wild - like a frightened animal being cornered by a fierce predator. Which of course, was something that had happened to her only a few hours before. 

“JJ.” You called out her name, keeping your voice firm, trying to ground her in this reality. 

Her eyes continued darting around, glancing into the hallway behind you as though she was expecting another rabid dog to suddenly appear there. 

“JJ, it’s just me.” You told her, reaching up and gently easing the gun down. 

She was still incredibly tense, so you reached up with your other hand and massaged along the inner part of her wrist with two fingers, getting her muscles to relax enough that she let go of the gun, dropping it into your hand. You made sure the safety was turned on before you placed the gun on the closed toilet lid. Then you turned and closed the bathroom door behind you, sealing the two of you into a quiet bubble to hopefully give her time to calm down. 

JJ let out a harsh breath - a sound that was mostly a sob strangled inside of her chest. She ran her hands through her already wild hair, tears gathering in her eyes once again. She turned to face the wall and you instinctively reached out, running your hands gently across her shoulders. 

One of your hands stayed as a comforting grip on her upper arm and the other rubbed an open palm up and down her back. You hoped you could soothe her in some way. You truly hated how she quivered under your touch, how you could feel those sobs trapped inside of her lungs; the echoes of cries she refused to release because she felt that she needed to put up a strong front. 

“It’s so stupid.” JJ complained. 

Her voice was wet with the unreleased tears as she held her head in her hands, still facing away from you. Her long blonde hair easily created a curtain around her face so that couldn’t properly see her. 

“I grew up with dogs! I had dogs! I love dogs, I would never-” 

“It’s not your fault, Jay.” You pressed, using your affectionate nickname for her. “When people train animals to attack like that, there’s nothing you can do.” You leaned in, gently resting your cheek on her shoulder, assuring her that you were there before you whispered the next words. “You had to shoot them.” 

JJ let out a harsh whimper, clearly struggling even more now with holding back her sobs. You wanted to tell her that it would be okay to cry, but you knew that it would be useless. She was raised as the strong brick wall of a daughter in her family, and she was not used to showing weakness - especially not used to crying. 

“I should have stayed with Spencer.” She announced quietly. “I shouldn’t have let him go off without backup. I should have-” 

“Jay, that’s not your fault either.” You told her firmly, cutting off whatever self blaming rant she was about to go on. 

She muddled in a bitter silence, her arms shaking lightly as she rocked her head back and forth - shaking her head in the negative in response to what you had said. 

She had to believe it was her fault. If Spencer didn’t come back from this, her self blame would only be worse. 

“JJ, look at me.” You demanded gently. She didn’t move, and you reached over and put a hand on her wrist, attempting to pull her hands away from her face. “JJ, please look at me.” 

When your voice warbled out the plea, she finally wavered to your touch, and let you turn her around to face you. You caught a glimpse of the bright red stains soaked into the sleeve of her shirt, splattered up across her front, and you tried to ignore the sickly curl in your gut because of it. 

You had the urge to lift her bandaged forearm up and lay a few kisses on it, like you would have kissed a child’s scraped knee - more so for the emotional comfort than any possible health benefits. But you knew that would have been more for you than for her. 

So instead, you reached out, brushing past that tangled curtain of blonde to gently cup her face with both your hands. You handled her with an intensely delicate touch as you tilted her gaze up from the ground. 

A few tears had managed to escape, and you brushed them away with your thumbs. JJ sniffled quietly, sounding quite small and defeated as she did so. For the first time that night, she felt a slight calm wash over her as the comfort of your presence truly settled in. 

She was eternally grateful to have you there with her. She reached up and gripped onto your wrists, keeping you anchored there. She skimmed her thumbs along the top of your hands, enjoying the smooth feeling of your skin as you stared at her broken face - a tearful angel that made your heart ache for her. 

You were called by the higher purpose to worship that angel - to turn her pain into pleasure.

Before you could stop yourself, you found yourself drifting toward her, leaning in and planting your lips on hers. It certainly wasn’t the first time you had kissed JJ, but it most definitely wasn’t the most opportune. 

She easily returned the kiss, pressing her mouth into yours with a soft neediness. It was when she let out a small moan, the sound vibrating against your lips that you felt that sting of guilty panging at you once again. The fact that lustful heat and your grief for her were colliding so heavily inside of you made you feel like just as much of a monster as the man who had taken Reid and sicked dogs on her. 

You pulled away from the kiss sharply, putting only an inch of distance between the two of you, not letting go of her cheeks. She didn’t let go of the hold she had on your wrists either - you wanted to keep her assured of your presence because she did need the comfort during this hard time. 

“I’m sorry-” You gasped out an apology for kissing her so inappropriately, but JJ, ever the woman to know exactly what she wanted, didn’t let you finish. 

“Don’t apologize.” She ordered sharply. “I need you.” 

She kept her eyes closed, her brows tight with anguish as you gently laid your forehead against hers. 

You couldn’t help but to question it. 

“Now, Jay?” You asked quietly. “Right now?” 

“I need to forget.” She whispered, her words so timid that her breath barely ghosted your lips, even with you so close to her. 

Your heart ached at her tone, and when you didn’t reply or didn’t move to kiss her again, she continued. 

“Every time I close my eyes, I just see… I just see those eyes glowing in the dark. I just hear growling.” She admitted, a few more tears escaping that you rushed to thumb away. “I need to forget it. Please, help me forget.” 

“Anything for you, sweets.” You whispered, using another affectionate nickname for her. 

You leaned in for another kiss, firmer this time. 

You let your instincts take over then - all the lust you had been pushing down rushing to the surface and servicing you well. If she needed to forget, then you would certainly make her. You would make her feel so good that all she would be able to focus on would be the hot blood thrumming through her ears. The medicine that God intended. 

You pushed her up against the edge of the sink, keeping one hand on the side of her face and moving the other to her hip. You skimmed your fingers along that tempting strip of skin right above the waistband of her low-rise pants, causing her to shiver at the teasing touch touch. 

In a moment, your forceful dominance, the way you handled her easily had her moaning into your mouth again, much louder this time. You moved the hand on her cheek around to comb your fingers through her hair. You dug your knuckles in, setting a powerful grip at the base of her skull that held her exactly where you wanted her. It was a tender pain that had her gasping for you as you shoved your tongue past her lips, now on a very determined mission to fuck every last dreadful thought out of her head. 

Your fingertips continued to dance along the waistband of her pants, gently teasing her skin in a great contrast to the forceful movement of your lips. Every single movement was cleverly calculated to make her mind numb. Right down to the way you tugged at her hair and yanked on her bottom lip with your teeth as you pulled away from the kiss, leaving her panting wildly. 

Her eyes were closed much more gently this time, her eyelids fluttering lightly, and you hoped that you had already reduced those nightmarish visions to dust as she relaxed into your touch, buttery under your fingers as always. 

“Thank you,” JJ breathed out, her voice sweet as ever as you bit a path down her neck. You wanted to leave noticeable marks that would stand out among the scratches and bumps she had acquired that night. 

You truly didn’t care if anyone else on the team spotted one of those marks and knew what it was. You were paying tribute to her, leaving your own kind of thank you on her neck as you sucked the soft skin between your teeth. Your fingers finally found the button of her pants and easily popped it open blind, pulling the zipper down in a moment. Without a second of hesitation, you shoved your fingers past the barrier of her simple cotton underwear. 

With one last sharp bite, you moved your head back up from the crevice of her neck then, pressing your forehead against hers once again. You kept that tight grip on the back of her hair, a small hinge of pain that grounded her, that assured her you were there. 

Your fingers easily found her clit, and you made the bold choice to begin rubbing her without wetting your fingers first. You knew that it would be a pleasurable sting that would certainly push any other thoughts from her mind. 

“Oh, fuck, Y/N-” 

JJ gasped, arching her hips away from the edge of the sink to meet your touch, her lips falling open beautifully and her eyes still so gently fallen shut. She looked so fucking angelic like this. 

More tears kissed her lashes as you pressed harder on her clit, moving your fingers in hard, slow circles. You could assure yourself that these were tears from pleasure, not from anguish or pain. You had rewritten the stony hurt inside her muscles, rethreading the cords tight with the need for an orgasm where they were previously pulled tight with stress. 

“Please!” She begged so beautifully when she wanted to. 

It felt like its own unique reward to know that you were one of the only people that all powerful Jennifer Jareau ever begged to. 

You felt her becoming wetter around your fingers, flooding her underwear in response to your simple touches, and there was only one thing you wanted before you would make her cum. 

“Look at me.” You told her, the words quiet on your lips but so utterly full of confident power. 

JJ whimpered in response, not yet opening her eyes, and you stopped the movement of your hand altogether. She let out a very displeased sound and you began slowly pulling back, threatening to leave her hanging (which was a very empty threat in this context - not that she had to know that). It was something that immediately caused her eyes to shoot open as she reached out and grabbed your wrist, holding you in place. She canted her hips up, desperately trying to get your touch back where she needed you most. 

“Please,” She pleaded again, all hot breath and desperation - all for you. 

Staring into those blue eyes, lit with a desperate blaze of lust as she panted out humid breaths across your chin, you were only reminded of the fact that everything you did was for her. Everything in your life was a worship in her name, no act too small to dedicate to such a perfect Goddess. 

“Good girl.” 

You praised her, knowing it was exactly what she needed as you angled your fingers back between her wet folds. You gathered up that wetness, slicking up your fingers before you placed your determined touch right on her throbbing clit. This time, rather than being slow and calculated, you were quick and determined. You made speedy movements that you knew would draw her to the quick finish that would perfectly empty her mind. 

“Always so good for me, Jay.” 

“Thank you, oh! Oh, fuck!” 

She started singing your praises in her own way as your touches sped up, the sound of her wetness just barely muffled by the fabric of her pants and underwear, becoming delightfully sloppy under your fingers. With the way she was unconsciously canting her hips toward you, humping against your hand, you knew she was so close. 

You leaned in, and while looking her in the eyes the whole time, you bit down on her bottom lip and roughly pulled it out, letting the skin snap back in a rough possession of her as she panted and moaned the whole time. 

“Cum for me.” You demanded in a rough growl, finding yourself comparable to one of those rabid dogs. Though you were consuming her in a way that renewed her life, rather than trying to end it. “Cum for me, sweet girl.” 

“Fuck!” JJ cried out, an epic prayer as she spiraled into the all consuming pleasure of her orgasm. 

Though you wanted nothing more than to listen to those beautiful sounds, you had to silence her most pitiful orgasmic cries by clasping your lips over hers. You didn’t want the others hearing - you wanted to keep those sounds all to yourself. You muffled her noises with a tight suction of your mouth as you continued to work her right through the orgasm, keeping a tight grip on her hair the whole time to show her exactly who she belonged to. 

With the crucifix mounted on the bathroom wall, the knowledge of Hankle’s God staring right at you as you did all this - you couldn’t find an ounce of shame inside you. Not now. You could find no better way to honor God than to lovingly dedicate your life to the embodiment of his best work.

...

A/N: Please keep in mind - this is a oneshot, so there will not be a continuation of it or a sequel to it. If you are going to comment, please comment about the body of work that has been written. I have not written any other fics about JJ at the time of this being posted, but if you like my writing style, definitely feel free to check out my Criminal Minds Masterlist or my other Masterlists.

[headspace-hotel]

Thinking of your post on the problems of veganism as a movement vs veganism as a lifestyle choice/one technique amongst many, that also applys super well to my issues with degrowth (And anticonsumerism as well) as a movement vs degrowth as one technique amongst many for dealing with the hydra-crisis of overproduction/resource overuse/destroying people and places for resources.

Like, in particular as an autistic person the continual recurring insistence that we need to just "change our desires" creeps me out. As someone who's difficulties were dismissed as just "having a bad attitude" and who's interests were so often dismissed as a waste of time instead of preparing for a job in the "real world" IDK if they truly understand the full horrifying implications of that line of thought.

So here's the thing with the concept of "overconsumption"

I had to do this whole project on overconsumption in my Anthropology class where I compared my consumption habits to those of someone 2 generations older, the prof clearly had in mind that we would discover a particular result that I did not end up finding.

I had to watch this documentary called "Affluenza" which was all about how Americans consume too much and they shop and buy things for fun and it's killing the planet, and it kept making these statements like "The average american does X..." and "X" would be something insane that I've never dreamed of doing.

Now I technically grew up below the poverty line, we were always financially insecure and struggling to pay bills and there was never any extra money lying around.

But my upbringing felt average, even privileged. We had a house instead of a trailer on cinder blocks, we had food and clothes. Compared to the upbringing of my mom and virtually everyone she knew growing up, we lived in fabulous luxury.

And the "overconsumption" lesson was bizarre to me because it brought up things like "going shopping for fun once a week" and "owning 20+ pairs of shoes" as if they were normal. I wear my clothes until they're unwearable and shop for clothes like once a year, and my mom has half as many clothes as I do. She feels guilty buying anything for herself and HATES shopping.

It feels like the dominant resources on living an eco friendly lifestyle presume that we have far more agency in what we buy and use than we actually do, instead of being stuck with the cheapest or closest available thing, and that our lives are full of extraneous, non-essential "consumption."

That class brought up the idea of "conspicuous consumption" a lot, or buying things to obtain social status instead of for their concrete utility. The way "conspicuous consumption" was addressed in the class was not very immediately relatable to me—I never had the option of buying clothes just to appear "with it" socially. My parents couldn't buy an extra car to fit the aesthetic of the American dream—we had enough trouble keeping the one we had running. The "conspicuous consumption" that class addressed was just not available to me.

However, I don't think conspicuous consumption is endemic to stable members of a certain socioeconomic status, because consumption is partially driven by the trauma of poverty. People who grew up poor will buy you more Christmas gifts than you can store or use, because they want to spare you the shame they experienced. Their brains are molded around the trauma of not having enough, and giving you enough is their way of keeping you safe.

Conspicuous consumption as a habit is pushed on you if your ancestors were shaped by this trauma. It is a misrepresentation to think of it as driven by pride, because your ability to perform the behaviors and mimic the appearances of a higher socioeconomic status has a concrete effect on how people treat you.

I know J.D. Vance is a nutjob now and Hillbilly Elegy was...not great (I'm more appalachian than you bitch, and I'm not even appalachian!) but the one thing that book got incredibly right was the idea of "social capital" and the way access to financial security and wealth gives you social capital. This is the main thing the current understanding of "conspicuous consumption" gets wrong—the need to escape the appearance and behaviors of poverty is seen as vain and self-indulgent, when it's a survival mechanism and it's something you're expected to engage in to gain opportunities and respect.

Poverty is humiliating. People with money never think about the fact that they have money. They think of themselves as average, if they think of themselves in terms of socioeconomic status at all. Being poor ends up embedded in the grooves and folds of your brain.

I remember when I was about 12, I gave my friend an informal tour of our house the first time she came over, showing her every room. I realized later that this wasn't exactly a normal behavior—I had done it because my mom did the same thing when she brought her friend over, and my mom had done it because it was a way of saying look, I survived. Look, I have a place to live to call my own, isn't this nice?

At its worst, anti-consumerism just reinforces the myth that your consumption is purely a matter of personal choice. And unfortunately when the conversation is ruled by the privileged, this idea will appear substantiated—because rich people can choose the aesthetics of poverty without concretely affecting the way the world treats them. A rich person can choose to live in a "tiny house" but they will never be "trailer trash."

Anti-consumerism revolves around ideas that are almost irreparably tainted by the mythology of an unequal society. Rich people possess and control the aesthetic of restraint and frugality, allowing them to playact living a Simple Life where they live in a tiny minimalist cottage and eat Healthy Vegan Oat Gruel, while McDonalds is the emblem of American excess. It is poor people's behaviors and habits that exemplify excess and greed.

Anti-consumerism isn't going to change anything until it openly confronts the fact that poverty is traumatic and consumption patterns often arise from poverty survival mechanisms.

[blueskittlesart]

you might've talked about this already but. god. there's just Something about the gloom hands always reaching and trying to grab you - a direct reflection of link trying to grab zelda and failing. there's just Something about one of the most terrifying enemies in the entire game, especially when you first encounter them, being hands that will try to grab you no matter where you run and what you climb. And even the way they disappear after they fail but haven't died; like zelda disappeared. fuck.

I actually havent done much analysis of the gloom hands but i gladly will now that youve given me a reason to because you're right about the reaching motion being reminiscent of link's failure at the beginning of the game. Similarly, the other most notable thing about the gloom hands imo is the fact that they turn the sky red when they're approaching. most people compare this to a midday blood moon, but what it really reminds ME of is the way the sky above hyrule castle changes the closer you get to the sanctum in botw. the red sky is something that, in botw, was visual shorthand for calamity ganon, so imo the hands are representative of not just his failure at the beginning of totk, but his initial failure to stop the calamity in botw as well. They are essentially link's regrets CHASING HIM DOWN.

another thing that I find really interesting about the gloom hands is that they're actually not that hard to beat, relatively speaking. as long as you have some bombs or elemental arrows and a decent weapon to hit phantom ganon with they generally go down pretty easy. the reason they have this status among players as the worst enemy in the game is purely because of how TERRIFYING they are. if you can shoot them with a bomb arrow you're fine, but because of the genuine fear they inspire in players most people's initial reaction to them is to either run away or freeze in place. unlike botw's guardians which were genuinely almost impossible to defeat early-game, the gloom hands are actually easily defeatable. they're just so SCARY that running seems like the better option. and I think that says something about what role they play and what they represent to link within the context of the game--failure, and specifically his personal failures, is something so terrifying to him that he can't help but run from it even though he KNOWS he's capable enough to face it. because of his years serving as zelda's knight and the trauma that came along with his role pre-calamity, his own mistakes have become something too terrifying to even think about facing.

and the fact that the hands reveal phantom ganon once they fall is important too! because the REAL trauma link is facing didn't actually come from his mistakes. it came from ganon. The true evil behind every problem he's faced concealed itself so well that link begins to think that HE is at fault for the suffering he faces--because he couldn't stop the calamity, because he couldn't reach zelda, THAT'S why bad things are happening. but it was never ACTUALLY his fault, and when he is willing to confront his own fears head-on they easily fall through and the true root of the problem reveals itself.

[immaturityofthomasastruc]

I’m gonna say that Thomas was right that Chloe had little character development, but not for the reasons he expects. Queen Bee is the symptom of another issue the character has, so in essence they dance around her real issues and thus had her learn nothing. You can delve into the root of her issues or teach her how to cope with her problems in a non destructive way. Her being a superhero is like putting a band aid on an open wound. It gives her purpose but solves very little in the long run.

That's the thing about this show in general: It clearly wants to look like it's tackling serious issues like trauma and parental abuse, but it doesn't want to go too deep into stories about that and act like things are always hunky-dory to maintain the status quo.

[realisticjupiter]

Can you do chishiya with someone who has family issues? And chishiya tries his best to comfort the reader? (Pls i wanna see him doing it 😭) thank you!

Summary: Chishiya understands exactly what you're going through.

Genre: I'd consider this fluffy angst

Pairing: Chishiya x gn!reader

Warnings: Trauma dumping on both ends, neglect by parents, lmk if I missed anything!

Word count: 478

A/N: I really hope this is okay! Also 😅 this isn't really him comforting you, it's more like you're comforting each other and ranting about both of your family problems. I don't really see him as someone who knows how to comfort someone well unless he's been in the same situation.

"I don't think I want to go back.." You whispered, words laced in emotions as you let yourself admit things to the Cheshire man in front of you.

"The original world?" Chishiya asked, tilting his head to subconsciously show his interest in the conversation.

You nodded.

You hated to admit that a world of pure death was better than your life before. But ever since you got here, you realized how freeing it felt. How different it was compared to the real world.

It wasn't something you were proud of, but more so something you couldn't control.

The thought and reminder of how much debt your parents put you into, and the lack of attention you received as a child, it made you realize how pathetic you were now.

You've come to terms that you didn't even care if you lived or died in this place.

"Why not?" Chishiya furrowed his brows, his face showing more emotion than when the conversation started.

You shrugged, your eyes stuck on the ground beneath you. "I'm afraid that--" You paused. "I'm afraid when I get back, my parents wouldn't even realize I was gone." When you said it out loud, you realized just how stupid that sounded.

"I understand." Chishiya muttered, watching as your body language changed the moment he spoke.

It was a sort of relief to hear Chishiya say something other than a question.

"You do?" You asked, finally putting your eyes on his.

"Mhm," He nodded, making a weak smile. "The only reason my parents were really together was to keep their status in the hospital." He shrugged, "They weren't even parents by the time I was... I-I don't know."

Now it was Chishiya who was avoiding eye contact. Unable to look at you, afraid of how you'd react to his pitiful past.

"Have you ever felt like you were destined to be alone?" You blurted, resting your chin on your raised knee.

Chishiya turned to you, taking in a long breath through his nose at your sudden question. "Yes. I don't think I deserve anything more than that." He nodded slowly through his words, watching as you stared at him with such interest and admiration.

"Psychology is weird. I don't know why I hate myself because of something my parents did." You continued to speak, letting small details of your past life fall out of your mouth before you could catch it.

"Maybe you don't hate yourself," Chishiya mumbled, "Maybe you just hate the thought of being your parent's child." His words were a pure projection of himself, but even after he spoke he was unsure if he had made complete sense.

"That sounds like the same thing." You commented, growing a soft smile on your face as you looked at him.

"It does." He nodded, mimicking your smile.

The silence was deafening as you both sat there, unsure what to do, or say with the new found information you shared with each other.

"Do you hate yourself?" You blurted.

Silence.

"..yes."

reposts and comments are appreciated <3

[codenamesazanka]

I might be delusional at this point, but i hope the bystander issue will be somehow addressed once shigaraki/tenko/whoever comes back. I feel like the jaku speech was such an important character moment that it has to be brought up again. saving the crying child might have only been the first step!

I'll be delusional with you, anon! There is indeed the fact that The Walk never showed up in the memories AFO showed Tenko/Shigaraki. And the problem wasn't just limited to Tenko - Hero Society did turn a blind eye to a lot of people and a lot of issues, and that pain is real.

But have this wild thought. What if the bystander issue is brought up again... but not quite in regards to Tenko?

So like. AFO is back and i know we all want him gone but—this is literally the last chance for the fact that HE WAS BORN AS A TRASH RIVER BABY BITTEN BY RATS to be addressed? That hey, people should've done something about that, back then, even when Heroes didn't exist yet.

I guess it would have to be Shigaraki who, as he's currently swallowed up by AFO, figures it out by seeing AFO's own memories and conveys it; and that's asking a lot of Shigaraki after what this guy did to him! ...But. Villains need a Hero of their own.

Endgames is a mess and a very smart friend told me before I shouldn't use logic. But Shigaraki has a pattern: Stain stabs him, but he learns from him anyways, used his name to continue to topple the status quo like they both wanted. Overhaul kills Magne, but Shigaraki preserved the bullets and even spared a thought to him at Jaku. ReDestro kidnapped Giran and tried to kill him and his League, but Shigaraki didn't kill him and included the MLA into his destruction plans.

Like, he no doubt would be glad to see AFO gone - kill the guy himself! - but point still stands. AFO fucks with his entire life... and Shigaraki aids in his defeat... but he thinks being a River Trash Rat Baby is pretty sad and unfair. So he demands the Heroes to address it. He wants to address it himself.

Villains need a hero of their own.

We know Shigaraki now has access to AFO's memories. AFO gave it to him to hurt him, sure, but the pathway is there. And right now he thinks Shigaraki is gone, so maybe Shigaraki is defused deep within him enough to go through any barriers between him and the memories. (However mindscape physics works, it made sense in my head, okay.)

This would be one way for the bystanders problem to come back to be addressed, should that ever be addressed 🙏🏼please🙏🏼begging horikoshi please🙏🏼. I had felt, after getting AFO's backstory, that AFO was a bit like Tenko during The Walk, but without the sympathy framing. But also just in general, like how AFO tried to recreate his own Hand trauma thing with Shigaraki. How AFO's motivation turned out to be 'intending on ruining every because he was ignored.' So they aren't as different in some of their feelings.

Finally, AFO's last thought before he rewound out of existence was that he wanted to be remembered by the world. Eyes on him, forever. He also wanted someone to just have cared about him, in a way. That's so sad, and should it be fulfilled (in that he's remembered as a cautionary tale), that's incredible kindness that he doesn't deserve... but that's what heroes do. They reach out and give some relief, even if the other person might not deserve or want it.

(or if you want, frame it as a fuck you to AFO. solve the problems of society, and you never need to worry about another AFO. forget AFO because that he and his tale becomes utterly irrelevant.)

This is far fetched. But here is one thought that's stuck with me.

Thanks for the ask!

[drdemonprince]

genuine question, I get why blaming people who have just caught covid for it is some fucked up victim blaming bullshit, and highly analogous to shaming ppl who've gotten an STI, but is it okay to assign blame/responsibility to people who *give* others covid? it seems to me that just like with STIs (particularly HIV and HSV bc they're not curable) its your responsibility as like, a person who has sex and isn't a total asshole, to do a reasonably good job of knowing whether you have these things, and then either give people who might catch it from you the ability to consent knowing that, or only interact with people in such a way that transmission is highly unlikely. In other words, having or getting an infection is morally neutral, but failing to break the chain of transmission isn't, especially when that failure results from complete inaction/ignoring the problem, as opposed to *attempting* to break it and failing due to factors outside your control. I've seen people saying that beleiving this is the same as slut shaming people who get STIs, and tbh that seems ridiculous to me, but what do you think? is "if you have covid and pass it on to someone, especially by going around in public without a mask, you are morally responsible for the harm the disease causes them" incorrect/going to backfire in some way I'm not seeing? I do get how the same statement about HIV is not good, but also you can't give someone HIV by eating in the same restaurant, so it seems like there are some important differences.

The passage on moralizing HIV transmission in Sarah Schulman's book Conflict is Not Abuse is a real stand-out passage in an otherwise (to me) highly underwhelming tome -- because Schulman has been involved in AIDS activism since its early days and is very conversant in the laws that have been used to incarcerate gay men and others for having the virus, and for supposedly passing it along to other people.

We can philosophize all we want about how wrong it would be for a person to knowingly go about infecting other people, but when we're actually dealing with how such matters go in the real world, it's not a useful moral or practical question. How do we know that someone knows they have the virus? Do we consider a person morally culpable if they have the sniffles but brush it off, not realizing it's something more serious? What about an Autistic person or trauma survivor with alexithymia, who is not closely attuned with their body states? If I can walk around with a bleeding gash on my leg for hours or a bloody UTI and not know it, I can have a mild cold and not know it. Am I too blame for spreading the virus then? What about someone who does know they have COVID but has no legal protections in their workplace and no financial support and determines they have no choice but to do a shift at the grocery store, because otherwise they'll be fired and at risk of homelessness?

These might sound like extreme examples, but we're talking about collectively millions of people's everyday experiences here. If a person is at fault for any disease that they spread, what then? What logically follows from that declaration? Should we make knowing transmission illegal? We've already seen in history how such a policy is used to terrorize and oppress gay men. It's an impossible thing to enforce, because someone's knowledge state is impossible to fully know or surveil, especially when we're not, you know, providing tests to anyone in any kind of systematic way, and in fact our government and most of our employers are actively discouraging us from testing or knowing too much.

Of course, I doubt that you actually want any kind of legal policy like that very much. I'm certain what you are really asking about is what responsibilities we should reasonably expect individual people to hold. And the answer is, well, look at how they are holding them now! Clearly people do not have adequate support at the moment to even be cognizant of their status. It's not a useful question. It just isn't. If we were providing free tests every day at major public access points and legally protecting people's rights to call off sick whenever they did test positive, and paying them lost wages, then we could talk about people being irresponsible and knowingly spreading a disease out of malice or laziness. but we don't have any of that, so we can't.

The solution to a population failing to take the "right" actions is always to look at the external factors that makes taking the right action hard. And right now? Being responsible surrounding covid is very, very hard. We can condemn every person who spreads COVID (or HIV) to another person morally all we like, but it's not going to save lives, and it's going to harm a lot of vulnerable people in the process, so why do it? Why not instead ask ourselves what we can do as a society to help make it easier for a person to behave in pro-social ways?

[orchestraytedkhaos]

Rexsoka. Yeah, it's my ship. Still.

I mainly just lurk here, reading fanfic and enjoying the memes. But the angst of the last few has given me the courage to dive in and say a few words.

First, let me clear the air: Rebels was when I started shipping Rexsoka. Prior to their reunion on that show, it had never ever occurred to me to ship them. Despite having read the novels.

So, yeah, look, I totally get the opposition to shipping early Clone Wars Rex and Ahsoka. She's a child. He's a child too, arguably, although his accelerated maturation makes everything super messy. The military structure and fact that Rex is basically a slave means its got power issues galore. Then for those in the US, there is the whole 18 year old age of consent thing (noting, for good or ill, it's 16 most other places). I get why this squicks people. It's the SanSan of Star Wars.

But people grow up. Even on TV.

Season 7 Ahsoka is 17 going on 18, and effectively an adult. She's commanded armies, and just spent a year living and working independently. She is also obviously mature and, frankly, animated that way. Rex is a long term friend, they love and care for each other, and by the end of the season, she basically risks everything for him, and he for her. The episodes are also written in a very obviously shippy way, with the gazing, the chats, the meaningful converstions, the hand holding and the tears. Not to mention that sad, moonlit reunion in Tales of the Jedi.

And although I dont think it matters much, by this time, even taking Rex at double chronological age, the gap is pretty mild by fantasy standards. 17-18 and about 26, roughly the same as Buffy and age-corrected Angel, and way less than Han and Leia.

Fast forward to Rebels, and we have two mature adults with a shared history and goals, who love, trust and admire each other, share common interests, and are amongst the most important people in each other's lives. It's a believable and natural thing for that to progress to something more. The challenges to their relationship are things like, for Ahsoka, the lingering memory of the Jedi code and Anakin and Padme's destructive passion, and Rex's rapid aging, status and limited life experiences. It is those kinds of emotional and external barriers and their shared trauma that make the romance so interesting.

Season 7 + and Rebels Rexsoka is classic friends to lovers, and one of the nicest, softest and most realistic relationships in Star Wars. The opposition to it, and moraliatic shaming of those who like is, is something I simply don't get. It's bizarre. There are heaps of ships that are far, far more problematic (including Anakin/Padme) that don't get this hate.

Like, anti dudes, what exactly *is* the problem here? I suspect the it's that some people just want to get their hate on.

The recent flashbacks? Yeah, that one on Mandalore complicates thing, but I doubt they had stomping on shippers in mind when they cast Ariana, as I have seen suggested elsewhere. The more likely scenario is that - at about 14 yo when this was filmed - Ariana was totally perfect for the first flashback, and is perfect for playing young Ahsoka going forward. Even setting aside that she is an amazing actress, she's insanely athletic and can duel weild light sabres while knee walking though a twist. She's also already tied to Disney. She wasn't quite right for the part, and, I agree, that does make watching it in light of the fanfic a bit uncomfortable. But, it's not just a shipper issue. Putting an Ahsoka that looks and sounds like that in the episodes with the Martez sisters and Bo Katan is weird af too, and doesn't work. I doubt it is meant to.

Story-wise, the best and only real take is that the flashbacks aren't live action replays. The Mandalore scene doesnt even chronologically match what happened (Ahsoka is so fighting Saxon in that scene, which never happened). They are visions about Ahsoka and Anakin and their relationship, not live action replays. Both remember her as a child caught up in a war. Smoke, the fog of war, flashing lights and dying, faceless clones.

And Anakin and Rex.

What I take from these is that in Ahsoka's mind, and Anakin's too for that matter, Rex is always there for her. Standing in the chaos, calm and confident in himself and in her, and looking badass as heck. With an older Ahsoka it would have absolutely been smoking scene from her pov, and no way was it written otherwise. As an older Ahsoka remembering, it's hot. As younger Ahsoka, he's there as her protector and friend.

Do I do ever think this ship will play out on screen? Not, no explicitly. And, yeah, it probably is harder now because of that vision (although if they ever do film a younger Ahsoka series, they will undoubtedly be casting a young actor for Rex, and Ariana will, by then, be 18). But I don't think that was intentional, and I don't think that much has changed. It was always intended to be an "open for interpretation" relationship, written with the possibility not excluded. And I am good with that. Perhaps I even prefer it. Star Wars has a truly dreadful record with romance and, besides, too often cementing subtle or ust-based ships kill them. I just hope this hasn't, because it's still my ship and I love it.

[katyspersonal]

Katyyyyy where are you, new way to hate gehrman just dropped. Basically now he disrespected maria because doll is a levelup maiden that helps hunters during the hunt despite the fact she hated the hunt.

He is even at fault for not doing enough to prevent it in case it was moon presence doing. Its that absurd

fdsjhfh Hrrrrg sorry anon, I've been taking a break from the internet for health reasons (and still need more of it). But, damn, this sounds so... forced? Honestly, I do not understand such a strong hate-boner for a sad man in a wheelchair some people in this fandom have. I can't really think of any benefit of the doubt to spare here, it just feels like some people are unable to enjoy any piece of media without pulling real life problems, grudges and extremely unsympathetic judgement into it, especially towards characters and stories where they do not apply.

ANYWAYS, TWO-PARTER!

1) "Maria hated the hunt"

I think an important point to make here is that Maria's disdain for the hunt was, first and foremost, rooted in personal reasons! She was that strong, capable hunter of beasts (and undead Pthumerians of the Chalice Dungeons, for all we know!) but slaughtering the fish "monsters" that could still speak and think and pray was what broke her and made her unable to kill any longer. The way I see it, it was a trauma, and damaged self-image. She could not stand herself as that horrible killer, SHE was the real monster and it was plain to see!

If the point here is that making the Doll, a creation to immortalise Maria('s softer side), help Dreaming Hunters to become stronger and carry on the night, I don't.... understand it? Maria was no longer willing to hunt herself, and in the end, it was very likely that guilt that driven her to su1cide. We don't know that, though. It could've been losing Adeline, it could've been that Cainhurst massacre happened while she was still alive and she hated feeling like a traitor of the sinking ship, it could've been madness and misery of patients rubbing onto her, or all at once, or something else.

But let's say, dreading her past as the hunter was the core thing. I believe this as well, because in the Nightmare part focused on tormenting her, we can see a Chalice and a picture from Abandoned Old Workshop. This is very telling about what she does not want to remember the most:

The problem with the hunt and the beasts though? Beasts attack and eat people. Maria maybe never wanted to draw a blade again, but we can't say she would be opposed to helping the hunters. If nobody hunts the beasts, while they are growing in numbers, they will just... eat people? It actually reminds me of a misconception about Djura hating the hunters in general! He specifically asks to not attack the beasts of Old Yharnam, for the reason of them not being able to harm anyone unprovoked! Meanwhile, he encourages the Paleblood Hunter to go and hunt beasts out there, that can and will just attack humans! I think that Maria must be similarly rational: she can't fight anymore, but she can't deny that if no one else fights as well, beasts will just overcome people, and there will be no one.

If anything, Maria spent the rest of her life, after having revoked her hunter status, to help in the walls of the Research Hall. Research Hall was laboratory of the Healing Church, who were having and governing the hunters by proxy, even if their own type (the Holy Blades) and not Gehrman's type (the Old Hunters)! I would not say that her helping to sustain the hunt past death is so alien to her! The Hunter's Dream was Laurence's plan, and very likely the purpose of it is so that the Dreaming Hunters are able to sustain the full-moon nights with their power and immortality - all so Healing Church has more time and resources for research on ascension. In conclusion, Maria resorted to the role of passive helper, the support, rather than fighting force, even in life. Doll, in a twisted way, continues that quest.

P.S. Just because Maria hating all hunt and hunters as concept would be irrational, it doesn't mean that it can't be! It is still possible that she went 'may Chaos take the world' and spiralled into thinking that maybe humans of Yharnam had to pay the price for messing with things beyond their comprehension by simply perishing. Just.. not only I think this doesn't work so well for the character, but also in this case, Gehrman's "disrespect" would only be charitable! As in, 'Maria lost all sympathy and hope for humanity in life, but she might be her real caring self once more, in this new form', you feel? Not disrespect, but feeling like he must carry on the image of her true self when she no longer could.

For the next part though, let's assume that Maria would not want to ever help the hunters with no other ways around it, and that Gehrman was aware of it, to cut to the main points!

2) "Gehrman did not do enough"

Moon Presence is a literal God that owns the Hunter's Dream, I strongly doubt that Gehrman would be able to have much of a say in this...? If it was Flora's intent to animate the Doll, she might just do what she sees fit regardless of his wish. Or, more twisted yet: even if Gehrman asked her to please leave the Doll out of the hunt to honor Maria's wishes, Flora could read in his heart that he was miserable and lonely so still chose to give him a company. Great Ones might not understand the complexities of humans, such as the conflict between "selfish" needs and their integrity! Whereas for us it is a known thing to understand we must not want what we want, and we must do what we should, for her it was just that the host of the Dream was sad and missed a dear friend that looked just like that doll thing over there!

+ Moon Presence is only able to be defied with a large amount of insight and ascension-potential gained from consuming Umbilical Cords that Gehrman most likely didn't consume. I think it's worth pointing out as one of the reasons why he couldn't even "fight it" if he wanted!

This also made me think of another possibility I discarded long ago, I guess time to blow the dust from it!

Doll's face notably has these cracks on it, and at first I wondered if maybe, it was Gehrman himself who was trying to either beat the influence of Moon Presence from her, or simply destroy her. And yet, every time, she rose back to life, as eery and unfeeling as ever, until he gave up trying over and over... What if he did not want Moon Presence and the Hunters to tarnish precious memory of Maria, to the point of trying to break the Doll to stop mocking him. To stop mocking Maria. And although Doll always assembled back, something was still always off, as the evidence of his attempts - these cracks!

...in the end, I've personally decided it worked better as manufacturing mistake because his hands were shaking at Maria's face part. But like, imagine: Moon Presence cannot be reasoned with, and the next option, to attack the Doll itself, as much as it hurts to hit something Maria-shaped, doesn't work either. It is possible that he did not quite have a choice here, and Doll was animated regardless of his will. Could be for the sake of the Hunter's Dream, could be Flora's twisted "gift" for him that she would not take back... could be a coincidence, too.

Not only it is strongly implied that Maria was buried near the Old Hunters Workshop, since Old Hunter's Bone is found at the same grave Doll prays to and that leads to Hunter's Nightmare, but Doll also has two-to-three confirmed belongings of Maria herself in her design! It could be not Moon Presence's choice and not Gehrman's, but Maria's soul simply dwelled in this body on instinct because of all the odds that attracted her! Maria's soul could be split between Nightmare and Dream, since the two have spiritual connection (Doll remarks that she felt at ease after we kill Maria), Doll sometimes sleeps and we find Maria sleeping too, they have the same voice although Doll's body has no vocal cords (she is a doll, not a robot!) and we know Maria cared about Gehrman at least at some point.

It could be the odds not even a God would have the power over, let alone a man!

+ The cut lines of dialogue offer to her NOT hating the hunt entirely too. She literally tells you that "you will not find your enemies here", and since she seems to know you are a hunter under Gehrman, it makes sense to think she is referring to actual beasts to hunt that would slaughter people in the waking world... So, yeah, her "hating the hunt" isn't outright stated nor supported by both canon and cut content, but can still be a headcanon.

But what if Gehrman did it himself?

I will admit though, there is a potential for an idea! After all.. I love this take a lot. That maybe, initially, Doll was not animated, and Gehrman was the host of the Hunter's Dream all alone by himself. But his sanity was giving up from carrying the Dream by himself and being completely devoid of company. He was losing it, he could no longer trust his own restraint, he needed to keep his distance from the Dreaming Hunters for their own safety. After all, as we can see from one of the endings, if he allows a Dreaming Hunter to kill him, he will be free and the Dreaming Hunter will take his place. The freedom from endless solitude, nightmares and torment of the wait, always so close....

( x ) for translation of his lyrics. Also I want this to be written in the protocol that I hate listening to Gehrman's theme and it makes me cry every time even these three years later fsdhfhdsds

It might have been a sad necessity. To perform some sort of ritual to bring the Doll to life, so someone could take the duties off his shoulders while he is not stable. Because he could not trust the power of his will any longer. Why not direct this to someone that could not feel the loneliness and the pain? Even at the cost of tarnishing his precious memory of a special person?

In this case, sure, he is "guilty". "Guilty" for burying her near this place when she did not want to be a hunter, sure. Again, we don't know the extent of Maria's disdain for the concept, only that she personally did not wish to draw a blade again! And "guilty" for being a human being with human limitations. I think that if someone still wishes to hate him despite it, over their own misuse of the "explanation does not equal excuse" sentiment, this is just the same overly judgemental attitude I actively oppose and I can't approve of this even as much as I want to give a chance to every interpretation. I just recently made a post digging into how the way people treat certain "problematic" characters can reflect their morality towards real people ( x ), and this brings my point again. So, person had every single reason to do the thing, and basically no other choice in the situation, but they are "still guilty"? Context matters a lot, and still willing to hate someone when they had no choice but to do the thing is inhumane, I think. It reeks of pure desperation of excluding and exiling a person "touched by sin" even if it was not their fault, and this very specific sort of superfluous judgement had rotted the society, let alone media analysis!

________________

Alright, I've gotten quite emotional in the last part for someone simply disagreeing with a take on a fictional character, but every other time no matter what reason to hate this guy is touched upon I can't find any explanation but general lack of sympathy and understanding. Heck.. I guess Gehrman was written SO, so brilliantly, that the way people treat him is a great vibe-check? Any character can be disliked, including him, but people's reasoning for why the character is disliked can give away ignorance at least, cruelty and judgemental attitude at worst!

I just hope that I've made my stance on the take clear! Admittedly, it is a more interesting discussion than "misogynist creep" discourse that has been debunked 5000 times now! I think in this case, it is harder to find a final word, and I just offered mine. A lot of this depends on how one perceives Maria and Gehrman, there is no The One True interpretation and I've just suggested my thought process and what I think is more reasonable to assume. Taking away Gehrman's complexity and potential for sympathy for the sake of 'just another man that disrespected a woman' is a pet peeve for me but I am open for surprises. You just said that people "hate" on him yet again, and it just gets old.