#these motherfuckers have never been protected a day in their lives and they need that!!

[sammichly]

going crazy over the parallel of Neil "I won't be like them. I won't let you let me be." Josten and Jeremy "As your captain and partner, don't I at least deserve the chance not to be a villain in your story?" Knox. THEY CARE SO MUCH

they're facing people who haven't been given a choice before, who have been ignored when they say no and they're saying it will be different with me. you will be safe with me. AUGHHHHH

[glamaphonic]

But no for real all the "he should've gone to find Daryl/Morgan/had a protracted reunion with XYZ character instead of focusing on his wife and kids!" shit ties back into people's lack of narrative literacy and, underlying it, their lack of theory of mind when it comes to these characters and of course all those nasty implicit biases. They think that what they care about most is necessarily what Rick cares about most.

There are people who refuse to understand or accept how important Michonne and Judith and RJ are to Rick. Of course he loves his extended found family. Of course he cares about his community. But people want to act like those relationships are somehow interchangeable with (or for a lot of these clowns MORE IMPORTANT THAN) those with his wife and children. That has never been the case! For the entirety of this goddamned show, it has never been the case! Andy has outright said it: this entire story, from the moment Rick wakes up in that hospital bed, has been about a man trying to find and protect his family. That is this insane feral motherfucker's central, defining character motivation! You would think if you claim to be a fan of this character and love him so much you would know that!

And it is wildly transparent that for many people they do know that but are pretending this is no longer the case now because they don't consider the family he has made to be legitimate.

They've been "predicting" (read: wishing for) Michonne's death since the day she and Rick got together and she was "ruined" for them because they could no longer mentally sideline her as a Strong Black Woman with no internal life or emotional, physical, or spiritual needs. And the only thing they hate more than Rick having a dark-skinned black woman as a soulmate is him having a black son. Hated it so much they had a whole ass documented conspiracy theory trying to will that baby out of existence. Judith gets a certain amount of grace from a lot of them purely from the virtue of being white, but they still constantly pull out the most vile anti-adoption bullshit about her not REALLY being Rick's (or Michonne's) child too.

So they sat there and watched a six-hour narrative! A lovingly constructed narrative one of the emotional cruxes of which is the fact that Rick was separated from his wife, love of his life, for eight years, missed most of his daughter's life up until now, missed all of his youngest son's life up until now, was made to forgot his eldest son's face, made to forget his wife's face, and this traumatized him so profoundly that he literally wanted to die! This traumatized him so profoundly that when he at last had the opportunity to go back he was paralyzed by fear to the extent that he wanted to continue living an empty ascetic unlife rather than have to face the emotional turmoil of the mere IDEA of losing them all again.

They saw that and went, "Well him getting to be back with them is unsatisfying because it should've ended with him leaving them to go looking for a grown ass man whose closest interpersonal relation already fucking went to find him!"

And not all of them are stupid. They fucking know that there is a difference between one's relationship with their sibling or close friend and their relationship with their spouse. There's a difference between one's relationship with their sibling or close friend and their relationship with their children. And it's not about quantifying the amount of love, it's about the self-evidently different emotional needs and dependencies that exist in these relationships!!

They know it! They just don't want any of that to apply to this spouse and these children and they're mad af that the show unequivocally said that it does.

And to that I say: lol suffer, bitch.

[ursa-the-stranger]

Op had to restrict replies but I wanted to reblog so heres a copy paste of it sans op's name. I will take this down if they ask however.

I have been noodling over posting this for several days but I think it's important for some people to hear.

At a March on Saturday, at a pro Palestine march, my group and I were targeted by by nazis. Not targeted for violence, but targeted for recruitment. They weren't wearing swastikas, they weren't spewing blatant antisemitic hate speech. They seemed like two normal dudes. They marched with us, talked about how awful everything in Palestine was, how we wished world leaders would grow a pair and hold Israel responsible for fucking war crimes, how existing in the world right now was hard. They were empathetic, they were kind, they seemed like genuine good dudes.

Until we passed a synagogue where people were handing our water to marchers. They had signs defending Palestine on their table. But the tone of the conversation changed. These two seemingly normal dudes started talking about how "performative" the gesture felt, that Jewish people should be doing more. That they needed to PROVE it. They started talking about "Zionist" propaganda in the US, about how it was deeply entrenched in capitalism. Things that, on the surface, seemed reasonable but it set off alarm bells in my head.

When I was a kid, I remember getting the speech of "don't repeat anything your uncle or cousin so and so says and don't argue with them. Try to avoid them but if you can't be polite." Because those uncles and cousins said a lot of hateful things about anyone who wasn't like them, but their favorite targets were black people and Jewish people. I would find out as an adult it was because many of those uncles and cousins were in the Klan. When I studied hate symbols for a class in college, I found my self looking at images I'd seen on arms and necks and hands my whole life, because I live in an area of the US where the KKK is still around. And standing in that crowd, listening to these guys talk, i had the most horrible realization I've had in a long time.

We were being fished by Nazis. We were a group of able body, white American leftists. At a march in support of stopping the murder and genocide of Palestinians, these motherfuckers were out here, trying to find people they could get to hate Jewish folks. I wasn't the only one in my group who clocked it, and when we called them on it, the masks came off. They called us a bunch of "Jew loving bitches" before they moved on.

But we're marched with these guys for a couple hours, talked with them, laughed with them, brought them into our circle. For a moment we forgot we also weren't immune to propaganda, we weren't immune to people who make hate sound reasonable and that people like that never start out saying the quiet part out loud, they lean on your anger and your sense of helplessness to move you where they want you. If the last eight years has taught us anything, it's that fascists know how to adjust to the times, to work with what they got, to recruit. They know how to radicalize people, how to weaponize anger and helplessness. And I'm sitting here, every day, seeing posts that sound exactly like these guys did and it worries me.

I know I'm talking to the No Reading Comprehension Website, but I'm begging you guys to develop some now.

You are not immune to propaganda. We are all angry, as we fucking should be. We are watching an entire culture, thousands of lives, whole bloodlines, being wiped out in real time, and for many of us our nations are at best, wringing their hands, and at worst, shipping them weapons, all to protect capitalist greed. It's monstrous, it's disgusting. But look, REALLY LOOK, at the things you are tweeting, sharing, look at the language and how it's used. Take the time to educate yourself about how hate groups use social justice causes and civil unrest to recruit, research the posts your spreading, check your sources. If you are out protesting, be situationally aware, and do not be afraid to clock and call out Nazis. Listen to Jewish people, listen to their concerns, educate yourself on what Zionism and antisemitism actually are and how they can be weaponized. It doesn't feel as good as rage, it doesn't feel as good as having a group you can functionally rail against in a way we can't against a nation a world away, but it's a skill that's going to help you and a lot of other people in the long run.

[hairmetal666]

Steddie Notes BONUS PART

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7)

Eddie wakes up to an empty bed. He’s a little surprised, honestly, since he had his heart set on first anniversary morning sex. Though, based on the smells wafting through their apartment, Steve’s making breakfast, which is an acceptable alternative (plus, if he has it his way, they aren’t leaving the bed again today).

The digital alarm clock on his bedside table is obscured by a Composition Book he doesn’t remember bringing to bed. He reaches for it before his brain registers the red ink dragon sketched on the cover. His hands tremble as he flips it open, but the first few pages are written in his own scrawl. Steve’s handwriting doesn’t appear until 10 pages in and Eddie’s heart stutters at the sight.

March 28, 1986

God, Eddie, I’m so sorry. So, so fucking sorry. I can’t— I’m sorry. I should have been there, I should’ve protected you, I should’ve kept you safe. 

You wouldn’t be part of this if it weren’t for me. Robin and Dustin keep telling me that's not true, that Chrissy was already cursed but. Robin is here because of me. Erica-fucking Sinclair is here because of me. And now you. And you’re dying. And it’s my fault. 

I don’t even know what I’m doing right now, but I can’t just sit and wait, I’d lose my mind. Anyway. You left this notebook in my trunk, and I hope you don’t mind that I’m using it. 

I don’t think I’ve ever been this terrified in my life, Eds.

Please don’t die on me. I can’t live in this world without you. 

March 29, 1986

Hey Eds

You made it through the night. I can’t fucking believe it. I ripped Robin’s shirt when the doctor came in to tell us that you were out of surgery and stable, and then he dropped the bomb that your chance of surviving the night was 40%. Forty-fucking-percent. I guess you beat the odds, babylove.

I’m with Uncle Wayne at your bedside. He threw a fit to make sure I could be here whenever I wanted, and that everyone could visit.

You’ve missed some wild shit, Munson, you’re going to be so mad when you wake up. 

Come back to me, sweet boy. I can’t take this.

March 30, 1986

Made it through a second night, babe. 

I hope you wake up soon. 

Miss you like crazy. 

I keep looking at you in this hospital bed, and you look so fucking small. I hate it. You’re the loudest voice in the room. You don’t just take up space, you demand it. It’s killing me that I haven’t heard your voice in days. And my brain, it keeps filling in things you would say, and I wait for you to speak up, but of course you don’t. It’s a kick to the balls every single time. 

The thing is. 

The thing is that I need you to wake up, Eddie. You can’t leave me. I made up my mind a long time ago, we’re spending our lives together. And it can’t fucking end now. It can’t end because of this. 

And I need you to open your goddamn beautiful eyes so I can tell you how much I love you. You don’t get to go before you hear me say it, do you understand?

I love you. You’re it for me. I’ve never wanted a forever as much as I want one with you. So, you have to wake up, yeah? You have to wake up so we can grow up, have a family, have a life together. 

Promise you won’t leave me, Eds.

March 31, 1986

You woke up, you motherfucker. The doctors kicked me out to look you over and I cried so hard in the bathroom that Robin made El break down the door with her powers. 

Thank you for coming back. I won’t ever let you go again.

April 7, 1987

I’m sure you’re wondering why I’m giving this to you, babylove. It’s been a year. Look how far we’ve come. 

✏️✏️✏️✏️

September 18, 2015

It’s way too fucking early for Eddie to even be awake and he has the day off. Steve asked him to take vacation months ago, didn’t say why, and now that fucker has the audacity to not even be in the house. And like, sure, they’ve been together for close to thirty years, and Eddie knows that Steve goes for a run at the ass crack of dawn.

Still pisses him off, though. 

Eddie huffs down to the kitchen to get coffee started, doing a double take when he sees a familiar black Composition Book with red dragon on the cover. 

He walks towards it slowly because this has been framed on the wall since their first anniversary, way back in ’87, and Steve isn’t home.

Eddie opens it, re-reads the panicked, lovesick notes Steve wrote in the hospital, doesn't bother to fight back the tears. He gets to the last letter and the paper is stiff and wrinkled, like it took water damage. Eddie flips the page, grief already pumping through his veins.

What he sees instead is college-ruled notebook paper, glued in place. It reads:

“I fucking hate this class.”

“Tell me about it.”

“trig. You?”

“Algebra 2 :(” 

A sound escapes his mouth, something between a laugh and a sob.

“Hey man, I'm pretty sure I fucked things up with us, and I owe you an apology. I've always known who you were, but you had no idea I was me...”

“Anyone ever tell you you’re kind of beautiful, Munson?”

“Watch. The. Movie. This is the last time we get high first if this is how you behave.”

 “What are you gonna win me at the fair, Harrington?” 

 “If you’re nice to me, probably something cute.” 

“Eddie…I think I really like you

You’re my favorite person in the entire world

Some days you’re the only thing I can think about

I want to wake up in bed with you everyday

I can’t stop thinking about what it would be like to kiss you

Do you like me? Yes or No”

“What are you doing about Hellfire?”

“Huh?”

“If the game is Friday. Lucas can’t do both.”

“He made his choice.”

“You ever been in love?”

No, but I think I’m falling”

“I love you, Eddie”

All the sketches of the sailor boy and the rockstar are there, even the one Eddie stuck to the poster in his room, though how Steve managed to get that is anyone’s guess.

There are pictures too, Eddie and Max still recuperating in the hospital; Corroded Coffin performing at the Hideout; them holding the keys to the bar, Steve shirtless and hammering something while Eddie looks on, with the increasingly popular bands Eddie booked to play their must-see Friday night slots; Steve on his first day of college and one of him jumping into Eddie’s arms in his graduation gown, mortar board slipping off his head; In the hospital cradling their twin girls with Max giving a weary thumbs-up between them. Shot after shot of their family, their life, their dreams coming true. A scrapbook of their lives together, big moments and small; good and bad. 

Eddie’s crying freely as he flips through the rest of the book, still fucking astounded that Steve is the love of his life, that they’re making a forever together.

Eddie flips to the last page. Stops dead. 

In Steve’s looped handwriting, unchanged since high school, it says:

“Eddie, 

         Will you marry me?”

“What the fuck?” He yelps, standing up fast enough that his chair crashes to the floor. 

He turns and Steve— his reason for being, the man that brought him back from the dead—Steve Harrington, is down on one knee, something silver glinting in his outstretched hand.

“Eddie,” he says, his voice a wreck. “Marry me?” 

Eddie crashes to his knees, shoving at Steve’s shoulder. “You’re such an idiot.”

Steve laughs. “Is that a yes?”

Eddie laughs too, but it quickly morphs into a sob, “Of course it’s a yes, Steve. Of course.”

Hands trembling, Steve slips the ring onto Eddie’s hand. It’s a thin silver band with skeletal hands contorted into an infinity symbol. 

They fall into a kiss that rips the breath from Eddie’s lungs, but then that’s nothing new. When they finally pull apart Eddie asks, “why today?”

Steve blushes and grabs at the back of his neck. “Thirty-one years ago, I walked into Mundy’s class and found a note on the window ledge.” 

“What the fuck.” Eddie’s mouth drops, his heart stuttering. This man.

“Once I figured out you leaving that note was going to be one of the most important moments of my life? I made sure to never forget.”

“Baby.” Eddie pulls Steve in for another kiss. “I can’t wait to marry you.”

Steve tugs at Eddie’s hand. “C’mon.”

“Where we going?” 

“The girls will be here in a couple hours, and I have some things I want to do to you before they’re home.”

“The GIRLS?” Eddie shrieks. “How the hell long have you been planning this? Did they KNOW?”

“Since the end of June,” Steve answers without missing a beat. “And of course they know. Everyone knows. I asked Wayne for his blessing.” 

Eddie can’t speak, his heart crashing in his chest as he, once again, thanks whatever entity made it possible for him to have this.

“I’ve been in love with you for over half my life, Eds. I wanted to do this right. You deserve it. We deserve it.” 

He pulls Steve into his arms, kissing him hard enough that their teeth clack, but neither of them care.

✏️✏️✏️✏️

When they come home from dinner, as Steve reaches in his pocket for his keys to let the entire family in the house to celebrate their engagement, he finds a gum wrapper tucked in with the metal. He unfolds it, the words within unfurling in his heart, his soul.

"Thank you for giving me forever, sweetheart."

Edited: check out the full version on ao3!

This is officially the end! I hope you enjoyed this little (long) bonus part. Thanks for reading! 💜💜💜

@gaysonthefloor @little-gae-shit @ineffablecolors @mojowitchcraft @hiscrimsonangel @thegingerrapunzel @adelicioustragedy @mackdaddyofheimlichcountyy @im-sam-fucking-winchester @rainydays35 @gobbledy-gluk-gluk @gay-stranger-things @sherilitchi @gezell-igg @leather-and-freckles @bornonthesavage @ramyayaya @awkwardgravity1 @chaoticvictorianspirit @thosemessyvibes @beeing-stuupid @silentiumdelirium @freyaforestafay @thatbitchgayasf @sapphirecobalt-1 @sahh-dude @adorkfromnewyork @ollie-in-gray @extralegobrick @snapshotmaestro

@fandomgenderz @nuttychaosface @thatcottagewitch @idoquitelikebread @shinekocreator @savveth @mackfrfr0 @yourebuckingkiddingme @steddieassheg0es @gamerdano @thebig-smoke @questionablequeeries @zerokrox-blog @thegingervulcann @charlies-candid-corner@perpetual-trashcan @sleepy-rainedrop @marvelous-musicals @hoffmannwrites @fromapayphone @courtjestermunson@juicinmyjams @daydreaming-mood @aceflavouredyougurt @emly03 @pille1983 @darcyshandflex @anteaterballs @adankrivervalleynearyou @didntwant2come @kittsu-makes-glass @alienace

@somewhereatdawn @5pac3g1r7 @thequeervibes @paperbackribs @bitchysunflowerr @knitsforthetrail @wrenisflying @plasticcrotches @demoniccorvid @em9515 @savory-babby @loverliner @aceacebaby42

@trainchomp @anaibis

[fbfh]

Leo Valdez is such a goddamn sexy motherfucker and he's so goddamn romantic but you swear to god you've never been more attracted to him than when he gets all protective over you. You're visiting some family and old friends in your hometown and you're... aprehensive. there's a reason you haven't really talked to these people in so long, and Leo's heard plenty of stories about all them so he has an idea of what you're getting yourselves into. normally you wouldn't have agreed to go at all, much less stay as long as you are, but this time is different, because you have Leo with you. everyone you're visiting would have insisted you bring him anyway, they haven't gotten to meet him properly and are curious to say the least. honestly, there's a good chance you're enganged at this point, so even if that weren't the case, there's no way Leo's letting you try to handle a stressful situation like this by yourself. he wouldn't have before but he's sure as hell not going to now. you get through a day and a half before something happens, which all things considered isn't too bad. what your relative said was shitty, but the way they said it was shittier. you stare at the floor for a second, processing what the fuck that was. you don't even need to look at Leo to know the exact expression on his face, but before you can, he pulls you into the kitchen to get more drinks. "Are you okay?" He asks through a laugh that's both outraged at what just happened and in total disbelief that someone really just said that to you. It would be funny if it were happening to someone else. "Yeah..." you say with a similar tone. He brushes his thumb over your cheek lovingly, and it's so soothing you can feel the sting of their words already fading. "Why don't you go upstairs and take a breather?" He offers, still holding his drink in his other hand. You nod, thinking about how nice it will be to have a few minutes to yourself. "Good," he starts, and you can see the change in his eyes, "you go take care of yourself, I'll take care of them." His tone is subtly sharper towards the end, and you know he's ready to unleash hell on whoever made you upset. You watch him down the rest of his drink before heading back into the living room, and even when you're upstairs, you can't stop thinking about how nice his hands looked in the light diffused through his glass.

[peachesofteal]

ok hi it’s me I was the one who asked for more detail about the fae boys and I don’t have a fic fleshed out but I have Thoughts.

Pre-nereid snatching, Ghost mentioned trading favors across dimensions, and roping in the rest of the 141 to help.

One of those was a deal with a witch, Soap went in Ghost’s place (in disguise of course) and asked for some help figuring out the blood magic bit (the little piece that was so obvious and Ghost couldn’t believe he missed it) so Soap’s like ‘great, thanks see ya never!’

and this is all fine and good for the witch, until news of a nereid becoming a fae’s wife hits across the magic world, and the witch can’t help but notice… how similar that spell was to the one she gave a man with a mohawk and- motherfucker. Well. She has a reputation to uphold, so she spends the next several months hunting down the fae (she knows the infamous Ghost wouldn’t show his face to just anyone, so it had to be one of his companions. Then she figured out Soap is the one with the mohawk, and puts it all together).

So when she finds him, she’s clearly furious, but trying her best to remain polite and Soap can’t help but laugh at how adorable it is that this witch is demanding an apology for tricking her.

and that’s really all I’ve got off the top of my head but I just think Soap with an angry witch wife is absolute perfection.

Okay… okay 👀 I love this! 🩵 Let’s say she’s a reader character…

You track him down in the mortal world. After all, the guys realm is nearly impossible to travel to, especially if you’re not from there. Which you’re definitely, definitely not. Your magic is completely different than Fae magic, existing within the confines of the tangible power mostly, fire, water… blood and bone. Your kind comes from the mortal realm, existing in the same pockets of forgotten lore and magic, much like the Nereids.

Here’s the other thing, Fae are the APEX in the magical realms. Even in worlds outside of their own, they are well known. Their power, intelligence, tricks and lust for bloodshed are whispered about far and wide. So imagine how you feel when you realize you inadvertently gave one of them the key to abducting a Nereid from her watery home? You would be devastated. Not to mention, every being knows that blood magic is witchcraft, not Fae magic. So your own community is turning their back on you because you’ve done this, you’re the one who allowed this to happen. You’ve betrayed them, gave away the knowledge of a magic that has lived well protected for centuries, all because you allowed yourself to be tricked by a handsome mortal? Who wasn’t even a mortal at all? How could you not see that… how could you be so blind?

Because you were flattered, that’s how. You were struck by how sweet, how kind and clever he was. You were entranced by his questions, his interest in you and the bookstore, hypnotized by the way his graceful fingers stroked the spines of your most treasured volumes. You weren’t like the others in your coven, you weren’t chased relentlessly by warlocks, weren’t praised for being an eternal beauty, you spent more time with your books and spells and cauldron than you did with with your peers. The few friends you had included your familiar, a mortal girl who worked in the shop with you, and your aunt.

After months of research, tearing apart grimoires and reading tea leaves, you finally figure it out. You finally learn the spell you need to track Fae, and then you cast it to find Johnny. You don’t have much to go on, but you remember his eyes, the sea glass blue shade that shimmered in the afternoon light when he approached you in the bookstore, following you into the back room. You had been completely charmed by him, and thus disarmed… distracted by clever words and his pretty face, letting yourself flirt with him by asking about his mohawk and intriguing accent.

You had been a fool.

So you shuttered the shop early one day, pulling his true form to your mind’s eye, the confirmation of the truth curdling your stomach as you cast the scrying spell, the presence of his magic shimmering all throughout the plane until it led you to a pub, a mere four blocks away.

Your rage, your shame overshadows your fear… a mistake you realize too late that day, far too late until you’re standing in front of him with your hands on your hips… spitting mad, magic swirling around you in violent hues of red and purple while he chuckles openly, admiring how your hair seems to float in the air with the electricity of your rage.

“You used me.” You hiss, fist unclenching, raising in front of your body like a weapon. “You tricked me, you Fae bastard.” Your finger extends, pointing right at him, and in the blink of an eye the air shifts, and he drops his glamour, exposing the true strength of his power, the tips of his ears, the mighty weight of the magic he carries in his veins.

Your words die on your tongue.

Johnny may not know much, but he knows well enough to never, ever, let a witch point at him, for a hex will surely come after.

His hand darts forward, strong fingers wrapping around your wrist and pulling you close, close enough that he can incline his head above your ear, voice razor sharp, lethal and cold when he whispers,

“Did you just point at me, little witch?”

[wadebae]

[copy pasta post because OP needed to turn off reblogs due to harassment. Another person asked them about doing this and they said it's fine, they just can't personally handle the harassment right now. These are not my words. Not giving credit solely to protect OP's inbox. Reblog or don't, but I wanted this on my blog.]

I have been noodling over posting this for several days but I think it's important for some people to hear.

At a March on Saturday, at a pro Palestine march, my group and I were targeted by by nazis. Not targeted for violence, but targeted for recruitment. They weren't wearing swastikas, they weren't spewing blatant antisemitic hate speech. They seemed like two normal dudes. They marched with us, talked about how awful everything in Palestine was, how we wished world leaders would grow a pair and hold Israel responsible for fucking war crimes, how existing in the world right now was hard. They were empathetic, they were kind, they seemed like genuine good dudes.

Until we passed a synagogue where people were handing our water to marchers. They had signs defending Palestine on their table. But the tone of the conversation changed. These two seemingly normal dudes started talking about how "performative" the gesture felt, that Jewish people should be doing more. That they needed to PROVE it. They started talking about "Zionist" propaganda in the US, about how it was deeply entrenched in capitalism. Things that, on the surface, seemed reasonable but it set off alarm bells in my head.

When I was a kid, I remember getting the speech of "don't repeat anything your uncle or cousin so and so says and don't argue with them. Try to avoid them but if you can't be polite." Because those uncles and cousins said a lot of hateful things about anyone who wasn't like them, but their favorite targets were black people and Jewish people. I would find out as an adult it was because many of those uncles and cousins were in the Klan. When I studied hate symbols for a class in college, I found my self looking at images I'd seen on arms and necks and hands my whole life, because I live in an area of the US where the KKK is still around. And standing in that crowd, listening to these guys talk, i had the most horrible realization I've had in a long time.

We were being fished by Nazis. We were a group of able body, white American leftists. At a march in support of stopping the murder and genocide of Palestinians, these motherfuckers were out here, trying to find people they could get to hate Jewish folks. I wasn't the only one in my group who clocked it, and when we called them on it, the masks came off. They called us a bunch of "Jew loving bitches" before they moved on.

But we're marched with these guys for a couple hours, talked with them, laughed with them, brought them into our circle. For a moment we forgot we also weren't immune to propaganda, we weren't immune to people who make hate sound reasonable and that people like that never start out saying the quiet part out loud, they lean on your anger and your sense of helplessness to move you where they want you. If the last eight years has taught us anything, it's that fascists know how to adjust to the times, to work with what they got, to recruit. They know how to radicalize people, how to weaponize anger and helplessness. And I'm sitting here, every day, seeing posts that sound exactly like these guys did and it worries me.

I know I'm talking to the No Reading Comprehension Website, but I'm begging you guys to develop some now.

You are not immune to propaganda. We are all angry, as we fucking should be. We are watching an entire culture, thousands of lives, whole bloodlines, being wiped out in real time, and for many of us our nations are at best, wringing their hands, and at worst, shipping them weapons, all to protect capitalist greed. It's monstrous, it's disgusting. But look, REALLY LOOK, at the things you are tweeting, sharing, look at the language and how it's used. Take the time to educate yourself about how hate groups use social justice causes and civil unrest to recruit, research the posts your spreading, check your sources. If you are out protesting, be situationally aware, and do not be afraid to clock and call out Nazis. Listen to Jewish people, listen to their concerns, educate yourself on what Zionism and antisemitism actually are and how they can be weaponized. It doesn't feel as good as rage, it doesn't feel as good as having a group you can functionally rail against in a way we can't against a nation a world away, but it's a skill that's going to help you and a lot of other people in the long run.

[morsartis]

Miscommunication

Gamzee x Standoffish!Reader

.

Life wasn’t always kind, it didn't wait for people to catch their breaths, it didn't let you get used to what it threw at you, and it certainly never slowed down. Life had taught you the best thing to do was to meet it halfway and keep trudging. You had built a calloused exterior over time to deal  with it. The sort of exterior that pushed people away because you couldn’t bring yourself to accept a hand held out in your direction. There was always some clause, some string, attached and you’d be damned before you fell for it. So for all of life’s pitfalls you’d hardened yourself against the potential. It worked as long as you didn’t count all the people you never meant to rub wrong- which you rarely did. If people were meant to be in your life they'd chip away at the walls you'd been steadfast in reinforcing, though you could admit to yourself you often made it far harder for people than you meant to. A small sacrifice for protection against getting hurt again.

Or so you had told yourself.

You’d been happy to be a prickly douche to whoever so much as looked at you for too long, snapping and glaring at every little thing life threw at you, and then you'd met Gamzee. The most spaced out, laid back motherfucker you had ever seen. Nothing fazed the troll. No barbed comment, no sneered look, no potential fight. It was as if he lived in a perpetual bubble of chill and good peace. After awhile it seemed almost cruel on your end to be mean to him at all. You’d been looking for a roommate to share your apartment with- rent was getting tighter each day and you knew it was only a matter of time before a check finally bounced- and Gamzee had simply made himself right at home. 

You had wanted an Alternian roommate specifically to guarantee they’d mind their business so you could mind yours. Too bad Gamzee never got that memo. Or maybe he had and simply ignored it. Just like he’d ignored your attempts to make him leave you alone and stop letting himself into your room to “hang” or sprawling along the couch to be in your personal bubble. No matter how many times you snapped and snarled and attempted to get him to do as everyone else did and fuck off he had remained. In fact the more you tried to scare him off the more he seemed to make himself right at home. It completely baffled you at first as to why you couldn't make him leave and then slowly you had begun to accept it. 

Begrudgingly and with the same level of discomfort as someone having their teeth pulled. 

That seemed to be all Gamzee needed to get truly comfortable. The minute you had begun to see Gamzee as a friend and start to open up to the clown he’d dug his claws in with all the glee of a child refusing to let go of a beloved toy. He invited you everywhere with him, sometimes not even waiting for an answer. You had thought it the desperate actions of a quadrantless troll- until he finally introduced you to his “palest of diamonds”. Karkat was like looking in a fucked up funhouse mirror. The two of you snapping at each other and pushing away in all the similar ways. It was no wonder Gamzee had seemed so comfortable with you. He had a type! And apparently you fit the bill. It had taken much longer for you and Karkat to get acquainted than it had with Gamzee but when you did it was clear the clown had used the same tactics he was using on you now to get Karkat as his moirail. 

A complete and utter disregard for your stubborn and standoffish nature. 

Though according to Karkat your long term roommate had a dark side, one you hadn’t seen and was hard to believe, but sometimes you thought you caught glimpses of it when he thought you weren’t paying attention. Calculating lucidity that would flicker in his otherwise stoned and glazed over eyes. It was easy to dismiss. 

But today you were reconsidering that dismissal. 

It had started out all the same. You’d had the day off work and had taken to lounging on the couch with your phone using the TV as background noise. Whatever conversation you had started out having with one of your few friends had devolved into archaic memes and had long abandoned coherence a good fifteen minutes or so ago. Gamzee would be home soon, you had memorized his schedule out of necessity from the times he’d wandered into the bathroom to grab some of his things while you had been showering. The mortification had been brutal and your landlord had banned changing the locks in the apartment for reasons lost to you. So the bathroom lock remained broken and you had memorized Gamzee’s schedule as a consequence. Since then there had been no mortifying bathroom mishaps. Not that Gamzee had seemed bothered at any point, he hadn’t been creepy about it either, just grabbing his things as if you weren’t there at all. You weren’t sure whether to be grateful or concerned but had settled uneasily on grateful. Today was no different than any other when he got back. Humming and chuckling to himself as he shed off his jacket and left it on the floor when he came in- another losing battle with him- before wandering into the kitchen without a care in the world. It was as if he hadn’t even realized you were home as he rooted around in the fridge for what you assumed was faygo. The two of you would have to go grocery shopping sometime soon, food and drinks were getting low again. You could hear him shut the fridge with his hip and the soft hiss of carbonation as he unscrewed the lid on his soda and wandered into the living room where you were still curled up on the couch. For a moment neither of you said anything and then you could feel as his eyes slid to and over you. Again that rare lucid clarity came to his eyes in a brief flash before it was replaced by the ever present glaze as he smiled wide to see you. 

“Hey buddy! You all up and got the day off?”

“Yeah. Figured I’d just relax.”

“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that.” He was still smiling that crooked smile as he hooked one long leg over the top of the couch and began climbing over it. You watched mildly unbothered by whatever strange fancy had struck him now as you continued sharing memes on your phone with your friend. Unfortunately that was all the acceptance Gamzee needed to plop onto the couch and then flop directly on top of you.

“Gamzee what are you doing?” You asked calmly. Maybe a little bit tiredly knowing from the start that it was a losing battle. 

“I’m just gettin’ my cuddle on.” He replied cheerful as ever. One arm snaked underneath your back to wrap around you as he began slowly inching his way up your body to rest his head on your chest. He’d had the fortunate thought to tilt his head so you wouldn’t be gored by his long goat-like horns. But it didn’t stop him from snuggling himself closer. Sighing heavily you set your phone aside and wrapped an arm around his neck. 

“Didn’t we have a talk about this yesterday?”

“I dunno. Did we? I just wanna get my motherfuckin’ cuddles on. Feelin’ all sorts a clingy lately.” 

“What do you mean?” You asked curiously but Gamzee’s mind was clearly already drifting away as he snuggled into your hold. One of his hands dangled off the couch with the bottle of faygo and you hoped he wouldn’t drop it. It took forever to clean up and you’d just cleaned the rug not even three days ago. For a while the two of you just laid there, Gamzee’s ear twitching as he listened to your heartbeat. His clawed fingertips on the arm wrapped around you tapped what you figured must be the beat of your heart on your side. You were half asleep underneath him, the chilled weight of his body helping calm you, when he finally shifted. You glanced down at him and found his chin resting on your chest as he looked up at you. Again that lucidity had returned to his eyes as he watched you. 

And then the unthinkable happened. The thing that turned your thoughts on the clown upside down. 

He slid in closer and before you realized what he was doing he had pressed his lips to yours. The first thing you registered was that they were cold, the second thing had been the slick slide of the greasepaint he wore as his mouth moved against yours, and the third was the way he was still staring at you. His eyes were still open, still watching, as he pressed his mouth to yours insistently. Your sound of confused surprise was muffled as he shifted his head just so and his tongue licked across the meat of your bottom lip. Eyes wide and shocked you tensed and he nipped lightly at your mouth before pulling away a more smug smile on his face. 

“You taste like popsicles.” He told you voice pitched strangely. Swallowing nervously you struggled to find words to even say to him. 

“Gamzee?”

“Hm?”

“What the hell was that for?” You hated how meek you sounded but the shock had been too great. He’d never even given you an inclination he saw you as anything more than a good friend.

“A motherfucker can’t just all up and kiss his matesprit?” He asked, clearly confused. 

“Your what?” 

His eyes suddenly went as wide as yours, a startling look on his face as he seemed to struggle to keep them open most of the time. 

“Oh shit.” He breathed, “I forgot to ask you.”

[dark-ice-god]

A KariBaku prompt: Guess I Just Have A Way With You

For all my KariBaku lovers (@itzairiii, thanks for the comment! I really appreciate it!)

This one's partically inspired by the oneshot I've previously published (no, the fact that I am writing this and that works at 1 a.m. doesn't count). Anyways, back to the story

---------------------------------------------------

Katsuki didn't care about others. At all.

They meant nothing to him, he meant nothing to them. Perfectly balanced, as Thanos would say.

That wasn't always like that. When he was small and young, he was a happy bun with huge eyes and a wide smile. So what happened so he became silent and indifferent?

Well, many things happened.

First of all, his family. Katsuku moved to his grandmother when he turned 12 and lived with her in her house, where he has had been noticed every day. Where he was met with a hug every day after school. Where he could not hold back a smile which wasn't needed because he had never smiled since then.

Second, his friends. Growing up, Katsuki saw that they stayed with him to get protection, for his power and interest in beating Deku up and not for his personality. He had dropped out from Aldera and moved to a different school before attending UA, where, of course, were people that found him "interesting". Kirishima was annoying, honestly. Thinking he could deserve the non-neutral reaction to his existance. Ha. He was wrong.

Third, Deku. This annoying motherfucker with this worried face. Katsuku was trying his best not to hit it back there, in Aldera. Well, sometimes he managed to do so.

He. Was. O. Fucking. Kay.

There was no need to walk on your tiptoes around him, asking in a most polite way about his health and home life. Katsuki had stopped screaming four years ago.

Fourth.

There was one guy whom he called Kariage for his hair style. A calm and understanding person with a good sense of humor. Katsuki could not explain this, but he liked spending time with him.

Kariage was just... different.

He moved to America, then came back to Japan and got in UA, General Course. Katsuki greeted him as an old friend, and they had a talk after school. A talk that Katsuki couldn't forget for some reason.

But he didn't feel love. He didn't love. He couldn't.

Kariage didn't have a house to live in, but Katsuki invited him to live with Granny — and he said "yes". Spontaneous decision leading to a spontaneous result.

They reunited as the closest friends, and Katsuki knew he could tell Kariage everything and he would listen and understand. Something, however, stopped him.

The school was hard, the time was always running out, so Katsuki was getting more and more tired. Plus, his classmates were draining all of his energy.

He could not say correctly when did it start, but approximately the first sigh appeared in October.

It was a coffee on a small round table near the couch he'd fallen asleep on and a warm blanket covering him.

Katsuki liked coffee.

From that moment his life had started to change.

Soon after accidental touches appeared, Kariage would shake Katsuki's hand for a longer time, brushing his fingers unnoticeably when it ended. On the movie nights he would sit closer to the blonde, their hands touching so slightly, but it was burning stronger then his own quirk.

The first not-family hug Katsuki experienced when he returned after being captured by League of Villains, and even though he hated them, for some reason Kariage's hug felt different. The way he ruffled the spiky hair, the way he soothingly rubbed circles into tired shoulders, the way he whispered his first name into his ear — that all combined gave Katsuki a feeling of being protected, being needed here, in this small house near the sea. As the cops came to ask questions, Kariage insisted in coming too, and he held Katsuki's hand under the table to soothe him while he was answering the questions.

Surprisingly for Katsuki, the hugs didn't stop. No, Kariage would hug him, not for a long time, but they were worth it. So Katsuki began to return them. The first time he did so, Kariage just smiled and ruffled his hair.

Needless to say, he would never allow any of his classmates be as close to him as Kariage was.

Katsuki was an early bird, but when he woke up after a movie night and discovered himself in a warm and comfortable embrace, head laying on Kariage's shoulder, he decided not to get up and sleep a little bit more.

All these memories flashed through Katsuki's mind while he was laying in the couch, head on Kariage's shoulder, one arm wrapped around his waist and another one around his neck, playing lazily with his hair.

"How did it come to this?" he muttered quietely into the space. Kariage smiled before answering:

"Guess I just have a way with you."

[catbountry]

I think before I go to bed, I should make it clear that my flippancy about the failed assassination attempt on Trump is because this man didn't give enough of a fuck to protect the citizens of the country he fucking ran from a deadly virus that killed hundreds of thousands of people in that country alone.

Like we talk a lot about all presidents being war criminals to come extent but for your average American, it's very hard to put names and faces to the anonymous brown people we hear getting bombed by drone strikes on the other side of the world. Like we know it's bad, but because we don't see these people, it's hard to actually like, internalize that. But with COVID? Your average American knew somebody who died, or almost died, or was in danger or dying. And this motherfucker, pumping his fist in the air after getting grazed by a bullet while a spectator in the crowd died, got to live through getting COVID because he was the President when he got it. He lived when our friends, our family, or neighbors, suffered and died. 100s of 9/11s worth of deaths happened while he was running for re-election. It's now gotten to over a million under Biden, but those early days when the most could have been done to curb the number of deaths, we just were at the mercy of a man who could not give a less of a liquid, fast-food induced shit about the average American. Like I know the government gladly serves capital over us but I've never seen it so mask off in my entire life.

I can't speak for when Reagan was president, mind, I was born halfway through his second term. Not a whole lot of memories of that because I was, you know, a baby.

But like Reagan, Trump did not take the lives of our countrymen seriously enough to even look out for us when we needed it most, and it wasn't even motivated by homophobia; just indifference. He failed us, not that we ever expected that much of him to begin with. The blood of people who we know with faces and names and voices and memories are dead because of him. And even if COVID is "over," he's made it clear that if he gets in, he doesn't fucking care if he does shit that kills more people through simply not caring, or just out of spite.

I'm sorry that I find it hard to try and play at good optics and respectability politics for the sake of not giving republicans ammo (they're gonna find ammo regardless, they always do). This man raped our country, and that word choice is very deliberate. He stumbled in, took what he wanted, broke so many rules, violated every boundary put into place to keep him in check, and like a vengeful ex, sicc'd a pack of his flying monkeys to enact violent revenge on the government elected by the people that dumped his ass. He's a petty little tyrant trying to become a dictator so he can huff deep from the most concentrated narcissistic supply known to a modern leader so far this century, and he has apologists who think he should have raped the country harder.

I am going to continue to live my life as normal as I possibly can, to try and focus on what I can do for myself to be happy and have a sense of stability and to be able to like myself, while also doing what I can to support my friends and loved ones. To remember the dead and remember what it was like to come down with COVID myself and how awful it felt. To try not to lose hope and vote if only just to protect the rights of my friends, my family, and myself, and hope that we can get through this together, whatever the fuck it will even be. I'm kinda scared, and jokes make things a little less scary because at least I know there are other people who are just as frustrated as I am, reacting the same way.

We gotta look for each other. Monke together strong.

Stay safe, guys. You are loved.

[polyhexian]

Since Raine was a teacher I think once they have Hunter living in their home they would immediately start to notice the signs of abuse. They would probably have issues with Hunter eating the normal amount of food for a kid his age because Belos starved him and also Hunter probably wouldn’t really be a big fan of something like pasta with sauce but wouldn’t say anything because he’s too nervous to make Raine unhappy with him so he doesn’t really eat much despite being underweight.

Hunter would probably go stiff if they put a hand on his shoulder or flinch if they heard them in anyway upset with him.

Hunter would probably take all of Raine’s suggestions on what to do while in the house at orders and carry them out with military precision even if Raine just suggested they watch a cartoon on the crystal ball.

Hunter probably has a lot of nightmares too so Raine would wake up to him screaming in his sleep.

Like Raine had hunter for a short while and the whole time it’s just one terrible revelation of what a monster Belos truly was after another.

raine definitely starts off worried about what the fuck jasper wants with this minor but i mean really theres better ways to Steal A Child, it being this SPECIFIC child who is VERY difficult to steal ironically makes it less suspicious like. okay. legitimately what is your game. and also like again despite the fact raine has seen him throw this kind on his ass a hundred times, theyve also seen him fucking vaporize one of their allies for trying to kill him so like. truly. what is his game here.

and then like. once they see how truly BAD it is with hunter, the way he flinches, how DEEP the soldier persona goes, the food and the sleep and the isolation- then its like. well, fuck, i would have wanted to help him too. so 1. how did the martlet know about all this before anyone else, because he CLEARLY knew about all this before anyone else did 2. why didnt he just tell me the truth? 3. why DIDNT he just take him and run?

i think theyre putting pieces together and while they probably have multiple theories- they might not know about the grimwalker stuff yet, but they know this kid is an orphan and related to the emperor, they know he was found the day the previous golden guard died, they know the martlet has the same colour hair as hunter, they've seen it, they know hes incredibly protective of him, they know the martlet is scarred as fuck and an incredible combatant AND a high level magic user despite never using magic- once they find out hunter cant use magic without a staff? click, dude. thats probably genetic! this guy has been around about as long as the previous GG has been gone. he looks like hunter, he's protective of hunter, he never uses magic without a staff, and the second raine asks darius about the previous GG, knowing they were close, "hey, did you ever see that guy use magic without a staff?" that seals the deal dude. raine has clocked that motherfucker from a mile away.

only now like. thats a NEW concern. okay, cool! parent. got it. well that explains his intentions. but now like- wow, he HAS hit this kid a lot, even if his motivations were clearly rescuing him. can he even be TRUSTED with him? would hunter be healthy living with this guy? is he even capable of living like a normal person? he still wont take off his stupid fucking mask or tell them his stupid fucking name! and oh, fuck- if he's the previous gg, he's done some VILE shit. should they be doing something about HIM?

darius and raine im sure have a very exciting conversation putting all the jigsaw pieces together before they realize that jasper isn't dead, jasper is the martlet, jasper is a powerless witch, jasper has a son, and holy shit is that son fucked up and in dire need of help.

meanwhile jasper is like ho ho i am sooooo good at lying and secrets absolutely no one suspects anything

[ebenrosetaylor]

Reblogs were turned off in the original post because op was getting death threats by Nazis, reposting with IDs to keep the information circulating

[Text transcrption from screenshots:

"I have been noodling over posting this for several days but I think it's important for some people to hear.

At a March on Saturday, at a pro Palestine march, my group and I were targeted by by nazis. Not targeted for violence, but targeted for recruitment. They weren't wearing swastikas, they weren't spewing blatant antisemitic hate speech. They seemed like two normal dudes. They marched with us, talked about how awful everything in Palestine was, how we wished world leaders would grow a pair and hold Israel responsible for fucking war crimes, how existing in the world right now was hard. They were empathetic, they were kind, they seemed like genuine good dudes.

Until we passed a synagogue where people were handing our water to marchers. They had signs defending Palestine on their table. But the tone of the conversation changed. These two seemingly normal dudes started talking about how "performative" the gesture felt, that Jewish people should be doing more. That they needed to PROVE it. They started talking about "Zionist" propaganda in the US, about how it was deeply entrenched in capitalism. Things that, on the surface, seemed reasonable but it set off alarm bells in my head.

When I was a kid, I remember getting the speech of "don't repeat anything your uncle or cousin so and so says and don't argue with them. Try to avoid them but if you can't be polite." Because those uncles and cousins said a lot of hateful things about anyone who wasn't like them, but their favorite targets were black people and Jewish people. I would find out as an adult it was because many of those uncles and cousins were in the Klan. When I studied hate symbols for a class in college, I found my self looking at images I'd seen on arms and necks and hands my whole life, because I live in an area of the US where the KKK is still around. And standing in that crowd, listening to these guys talk, i had the most horrible realization I've had in a long time.

We were being fished by Nazis. We were a group of able body, white American leftists. At a march in support of stopping the murder and genocide of Palestinians, these motherfuckers were out here, trying to find people they could get to hate Jewish folks. I wasn't the only one in my group who clocked it, and when we called them on it, the masks came off. They called us a bunch of "Jew loving bitches" before they moved on.

But we're marched with these guys for a couple hours, talked with them, laughed with them, brought them into our circle. For a moment we forgot we also weren't immune to propaganda, we weren't immune to people who make hate sound reasonable and that people like that never start out saying the quiet part out loud, they lean on your anger and your sense of helplessness to move you where they want you. If the last eight years has taught us anything, it's that fascists know how to adjust to the times, to work with what they got, to recruit. They know how to radicalize people, how to weaponize anger and helplessness. And I'm sitting here, every day, seeing posts that sound exactly like these guys did and it worries me.

I know I'm talking to the No Reading Comprehension Website, but I'm begging you guys to develop some now.

You are not immune to propaganda. We are all angry, as we fucking should be. We are watching an entire culture, thousands of lives, whole bloodlines, being wiped out in real time, and for many of us our nations are at best, wringing their hands, and at worst, shipping them weapons, all to protect capitalist greed. It's monstrous, it's disgusting. But look, REALLY LOOK, at the things you are tweeting, sharing, look at the language and how it's used. Take the time to educate yourself about how hate groups use social justice causes and civil unrest to recruit, research the posts your spreading, check your sources. If you are out protesting, be situationally aware, and do not be afraid to clock and call out Nazis. Listen to Jewish people, listen to their concerns, educate yourself on what Zionism and antisemitism actually are and how they can be weaponized. It doesn't feel as good as rage, it doesn't feel as good as having a group you can functionally rail against in a way we can't against a nation a world away, but it's a skill that's going to help you and a lot of other people in the long run."

Reply to the original post:

"A lot of right-wing commentators on Twitter have pivoted to pro-Palestinian talking points and/or lies that sound good because they have a pro-Palestinian veneer. Don’t boost them. They are not your allies."

A link to an article about alt-right X (Twitter) accounts riding the surge of pro-palestine content to gain money, spread misinformation, and eventually antisemitism. https://www.rollingstone.com/politics/politics-features/twitter-hate-speech-accounts-palestine-clout-1234867382/ "

END ID]

[samanddean76]

Ye Of Cumbersome Faith

Sam had always believed.  In most anything, really.  Believed in God, in angels, in demons, in saints, in sinners.  Believed in the inherent potential good of the overwhelmingly vast majority of people, but he also believed that our weaknesses were sometimes the doorway to true evil.  Because Sam believed in monsters too, but the evidence of their existence precluded the need for faith.  No, what had always captivated Sam was the thought that if he was somehow good enough, if he completed a sufficient number of gloriously valorous deeds, if he vowed to protect and fight for those who couldn’t defend themselves, then he would be proven to be worthy.  And then he would be allowed to enter heaven.  To reap the ultimate reward for all of his righteous labors. 

But as Sam had found out in an incredibly brutal fashion, that was all just a well-crafted fantasy.  God was nothing more than a cruel and capricious child, whose only amusement was found in the abject suffering of others.  Angels were winged dicks whose self-righteousness was so legendary, that they made Genghis Khan seem like a hermit shut-in by comparison.  Demons were at least honest in their devious intentions, wishing to corrupt and damn all that they could to a hellish existence in their afterlife.  Saints were little more than true believers who lived long enough to do an ample amount of good works before their blind faith doomed them to a horrible death.  And sinners, they might be the purest of the bunch.  Simply doing as they pleased, and caring so little for their immortal soul, that an afterlife in hell might actually be considered an upgrade. 

Yes, Sam had been a believer.  He had prayed to the good Lord above every single day.  Fallen to his knees and asked the angels and the saints for their guidance, their assistance, and vowed to do the best that he could.  He hadn’t always had the best intentions, but he had always fought for those that needed help.  He had killed countless monsters, sent innumerable demons back to hell, he had helped to avert a goddamned motherfucking apocalypse… 

And what was his reward for that incredible sacrifice?  It was to be trapped in a cage with a fallen Archangel whose only interest lay in hearing his own voice wax philosophical about all things unfair, unjust, undeserved, and unwarranted that had been sprung on poor old, little innocent him, just because he had wanted to show his misbegotten father how wrong he was about his new favorite creations.  The hairless apes.  That’s what the angels called humans, Uriel with such venom in his tone as he spoke the damning words.  An insane hatred flaring to life at the mere mention of God favoring those he deemed so unworthy of his father’s love. 

Sam had gone to literal fucking hell and all he had to show for his heroic deeds was to be trapped in a cage while he was being raped, endlessly, by Lucifer and Micheal.  The two brothers had finally seen eye to eye on something, unfortunately for Sam, it was his complete and total degradation. 

Sam’s last hope had been Michael.  The supposedly good Archangel.  The one that had obeyed his father, that was prepared to fight valiantly so that the many people that populated the earth might continue to live, might carry on with the legacy that had been passed on from one generation to the next.  But Sam should have known better, especially after all of their interactions with Zachariah.  Even the good ones aren’t truly good or pure.  They are simply less dickishly evil than their siblings.

Sam was being held down once more, as Michael pounded into him, whispering to him as he violated his immortal soul.  “Do you like that?  Does it feel good?  Oh, you like that, don’t you?”  On and on it went.  Day after day, week after week, month after month, year after year, decade after decade, century after century, until finally Death had strolled into the cage, and shown the two bastards who had never taken a break from tormenting Sam for the entirety of his stay in the cage, that they were little more than whining children who were in desperate need of a time-out.  And that Death was taking their favorite toy with him.  It was an image that still haunted Sam, the looks of pure, unadulterated rage that graced the brother’s visages.  How they raged as the only being in all of creation they truly feared, could simply dismiss them as if they were mere errand boys, little more than children playing dress-up. 

Sam clutched desperately tight to the arms that held him close.  As he buried his face into the side of the neck that was above him.  As he whimpered, with each and every stroke of the rock-hard cock that was pleasuring him to within an inch of his life.  He tried to block out the memories of Lucifer forcing him down, and driving in until Sam had screamed himself hoarse, until blood ran down and coated his thighs, but they always crept back in.  Even though he had pleaded with Dean to show him how much he had missed him, the hellscape trauma would always bleed back in.  Always ruin what had always been so perfect, before. 

But Sam still had his faith, he did.  But now he was placing it in someone who was worthy of it.  Someone who would sacrifice for Sam, a being that would slaughter the entire world if it meant that Sam would give him another dimpled smile, a brother who had always cared for him, as best as he could, in the direst of circumstances.  Always fought against all of the incredible odds, always strived to find his way back, to his Sammy. 

To his baby boy. 

Sam felt the thick fingers curl around his cock, and in just a few strokes, he was being torn apart as he came hard, knowing that Dean would put him back together again.  Would soothe every hurt, heal every trauma.  Would move heaven and hell, just so that his Sammy would be whole once more. 

Yes, Sam did have faith.  And he had finally placed it in the right being.

“Love ya, De.” 

“Love ya too, Sammy.” 

And Sam did give him that fragile smile, but then the image faded, and Lucifer began to cruelly mock him once more.  Because even the most fervent faith can’t keep true evil at bay.

Dean could only stare down at his Sam, as he screamed, as he writhed, as he desperately tried to get away.  Simply knowing that he would find something that would fix Sam, even if he had to burn this entire world to the ground to find it. 

So help him God. 

[distort-opia]

You know i think people should write more of Khoa being jealous of Joker or at least those in Gotham. Like Khoa matter so much to Bruce in the early day and even now but he's been gone for most of his life, and if there's one constant person that has matter so much to Bruce in his life after that Joker is the one. Khoa wish he'd turn away from Gotham but Bruce wouldn't do it and as a result he too wouldn't look away from those in it (Joker, Harvey, Selina). I think he should find this annoying because no matter what he do if compare to them, Bruce would always look at their way more. Your ghostbat fic really show that tbh. Him wanting to keep Khoa close but also him always feeling the pull towards Joker, towards Gotham

It'd definitely be something interesting to explore in more stories! Comics included. Ghostmaker comes to Gotham after Joker War and singles out Clownhunter, but it always struck me as fascinating how his whole spiel would've made a lot more sense applied to Joker himself:

Batman (2016) #103

Leaving aside the fact that Bao only became Clownhunter because of Joker's actions... protecting twisted and unrepentant killers, huh? Because Bruce cares too much and thinks everyone can be saved, huh?

But also you're getting at a facet of the core conflict between Bruce and Khoa, and that's Bruce's fatal attachment to Gotham. He chose Gotham over Khoa before he even became Batman... there's no way he'd leave it now, after sacrificing decades of his life to the city. I think Khoa definitely knows that, and it's why he's staying in Gotham right now; he knows Bruce would never leave. However, it's got to sting, one way or another. At the end of the day, Khoa is compromising and giving more than Bruce is. Which is the state of 90% of Bruce's relationships, actually... and it's why we've already seen other characters struggle with it. Selina, perhaps, is the one most resigned to it, although it's clearly quite bitter:

Batman (2016) #35

And that's coming from Catwoman and Batman's almost-wife, someone who grew up in Gotham and is undeniably part of it.

But would love to see Khoa's struggle with this, yes! It's different for him in a lot of ways, since he's less keen on acknowledging that he does make emotion-driven choices. Being jealous of the way Bruce is hung up on Gotham and the people in it would make for delicious angst in the Khoa-admits-he-has-Feelings department.

Though I'll admit, addressing the Joker-shaped elephant in the room is particularly fascinating to me because of the way he hasn't been directly talked about. Joker objectively impacted the lives of all characters involved in Ghostmaker's introduction arc, Bruce being the most obvious of all; but you also have Bao and Harley. And Khoa does pick Harley's brain about it. He calls Joker "one of the most dangerous men on the planet" and shows curiosity over Harley's relationship with him. It feels strange that we haven't been shown Khoa confronting Bruce about Joker, especially because of the timing of Khoa's appearance (post Joker War) and Khoa's accusation of Bruce caring too much, and that making him a failure. The glaring implication here is that Bruce fails because he refuses to let Joker die too (Joker War's ending still doesn't count as that, seeing as Bruce literally made sure Joker would be able to survive before making a statement through leaving), much like he refuses to let Khoa kill Bao or Bao kill Harley. It'd make so much logical sense to have a moment in which Khoa is like "Bruce, you've been fighting this clown-themed motherfucker for like two decades and he's getting worse and worse. You're not helping him, you're not killing him, you're not containing him. What the fuck are you doing??" Hence that fic of mine you mentioned, Anon. I really needed a scene in which Khoa did this.

But I realize this notable empty space within the story is probably due to Tynion not wanting to address Joker's influence. Ghostmaker's introduction arc includes fighting and traumatizing Bruce into being better... the same method Joker employed in Joker War (and not only). Not to mention the psychopathy, the obsession with Bruce, and the common theme between Khoa and Joker when it comes to refusing to admit that their past matters. There's plenty of parallels there, and avoiding them just makes the lack of addressing it more glaring to me. Within Universe though, it manages to come across as Khoa avoiding the subject, which is its own kind of angsty fun for a multi-shipper.

Got long again, lmao. Sorry about that. But yeah, it's fascinating that you've got the (arguably) "good" pre-Batman psychopath and then the "evil" post-Batman psychopath and Bruce is Unhinged about both of them, but in distinctly different ways. I'm very excited about Batman Inc. (2022) #8 now, since the cover and previews indicate Khoa might take on Joker! I really hope it'll be written well. Technically Joker's in his divorce era and him coming back to Gotham and the whole Joker Inc. thing... trying to figure out where the hell that falls in the timeline of Joker: The Man Who Stopped Laughing, since Failsafe hasn't taken place there yet. Or what Joker's motivations are, or if that'll even be the real Joker. But either way, there better be some good drama!! Fingers crossed.

[just-a-whole-bunch-of-reblogs]

Copy-pasted from another poster, which I'm leaving anonymous (the reblogs for that post were turned off by the time I found it, and I copy-pasted the text instead of taking screenshots because I didn't want to type out the alt text):

"I have been noodling over posting this for several days but I think it's important for some people to hear.

At a March on Saturday, at a pro Palestine march, my group and I were targeted by by nazis. Not targeted for violence, but targeted for recruitment. They weren't wearing swastikas, they weren't spewing blatant antisemitic hate speech. They seemed like two normal dudes. They marched with us, talked about how awful everything in Palestine was, how we wished world leaders would grow a pair and hold Israel responsible for fucking war crimes, how existing in the world right now was hard. They were empathetic, they were kind, they seemed like genuine good dudes.

Until we passed a synagogue where people were handing our water to marchers. They had signs defending Palestine on their table. But the tone of the conversation changed. These two seemingly normal dudes started talking about how "performative" the gesture felt, that Jewish people should be doing more. That they needed to PROVE it. They started talking about "Zionist" propaganda in the US, about how it was deeply entrenched in capitalism. Things that, on the surface, seemed reasonable but it set off alarm bells in my head.

When I was a kid, I remember getting the speech of "don't repeat anything your uncle or cousin so and so says and don't argue with them. Try to avoid them but if you can't be polite." Because those uncles and cousins said a lot of hateful things about anyone who wasn't like them, but their favorite targets were black people and Jewish people. I would find out as an adult it was because many of those uncles and cousins were in the Klan. When I studied hate symbols for a class in college, I found my self looking at images I'd seen on arms and necks and hands my whole life, because I live in an area of the US where the KKK is still around. And standing in that crowd, listening to these guys talk, i had the most horrible realization I've had in a long time.

We were being fished by Nazis. We were a group of able body, white American leftists. At a march in support of stopping the murder and genocide of Palestinians, these motherfuckers were out here, trying to find people they could get to hate Jewish folks. I wasn't the only one in my group who clocked it, and when we called them on it, the masks came off. They called us a bunch of "Jew loving bitches" before they moved on.

But we're marched with these guys for a couple hours, talked with them, laughed with them, brought them into our circle. For a moment we forgot we also weren't immune to propaganda, we weren't immune to people who make hate sound reasonable and that people like that never start out saying the quiet part out loud, they lean on your anger and your sense of helplessness to move you where they want you. If the last eight years has taught us anything, it's that fascists know how to adjust to the times, to work with what they got, to recruit. They know how to radicalize people, how to weaponize anger and helplessness. And I'm sitting here, every day, seeing posts that sound exactly like these guys did and it worries me.

I know I'm talking to the No Reading Comprehension Website, but I'm begging you guys to develop some now.

You are not immune to propaganda. We are all angry, as we fucking should be. We are watching an entire culture, thousands of lives, whole bloodlines, being wiped out in real time, and for many of us our nations are at best, wringing their hands, and at worst, shipping them weapons, all to protect capitalist greed. It's monstrous, it's disgusting. But look, REALLY LOOK, at the things you are tweeting, sharing, look at the language and how it's used. Take the time to educate yourself about how hate groups use social justice causes and civil unrest to recruit, research the posts your spreading, check your sources. If you are out protesting, be situationally aware, and do not be afraid to clock and call out Nazis. Listen to Jewish people, listen to their concerns, educate yourself on what Zionism and antisemitism actually are and how they can be weaponized. It doesn't feel as good as rage, it doesn't feel as good as having a group you can functionally rail against in a way we can't against a nation a world away, but it's a skill that's going to help you and a lot of other people in the long run."

Another poster in another reblog added:

"A lot of right-wing commentators on Twitter have pivoted to pro-Palestinian talking points and/or lies that sound good because they have a pro-Palestinian veneer. Don’t boost them. They are not your allies."

[notthestarwar]

Fic rec

Why do I hardly ever see lists of fic recs anymore?

I've decided I'm gonna be the change I want to see and make an effort to start listing fics I like on here cause I miss the days when we had to do that because Fic was like all over the Internet on custom sites and live journal and literally anywhere and you'd never find anything good just by searching

And so in no particular order here are some star wars recs:

End game Jango/ Obi Wan but focused more on Obi Wan and the journey.

Teen

Obi Wan chooses to stay in the agricorps at 12, he meets Jaster on bandomeer, Jaster offers to adopt him after antics but Obi Wan wants to stay a corpsman. However they stay friends and Obi Wan chooses to visit often. Obi Wan still ends up on Kamino. Overall its just great, Obi Wan has a unique perspective on the force thanks to his work and he uses that to try and save the clones and Mandalore. I love it!!

Obi-Wan meets Jaster Mereel and Jango Fett when he visits Bandomeer at age 12. He also joins the Agricorps. Jango still goes on to Kamino, but when Dooku is killed a few years early he finds an opportunity to save the clones from a life of senseless war.

And honestly, that's just where the story begins. Because anyone can raise an army, but you start to run into trouble around dinner time, and Mandalore's really not equipped to feed that many people.

Featuring Farmer!Obi-Wan, Working-on-himself!Jango, unimpressed clones, and a quest to save a planet.

Next up

Codywan cowboys!!!

Mature

This one is just beautiful. Cody loves his brothers so much. He is taking them on his search for work when they get caught by bandits. He's hoping to save enough money to buy them a home. It's lovely.

Or: While travelling with his brothers, Cody and his brothers run into trouble, and meet a sharp-eyed lawman. Plans go awry, a river diverges.

"He moved to push himself up, panting with the effort, pushing past the scream of his shoulder and the exhausted shaking of his good arm. But a hand pressed flat against his chest, another on the back of his head, and pushed him gently to lay back down. “You need to move slow,” the voice said, “or your stitches will open.”

Mature

Omg this is great. Boba is our main character and there is din/boba but my favourite part of this is Cody!!! This is post empire and includes academic!Cody accompanied by ghost Obi Wan so Cody/ Obi Wan for that. I love this Cody so much. He is an academic. He loves sarlaccs. It's just 💚💛💙🧡

Boba leaves Djarin to his tracking while he takes deep breaths and tries to convince himself that running screaming into the wastes is not how he is going to deal with all this. He needs to think smarter, not harder. The sarlacc is an enormous motherfucking terror dome. It cannot move far, and it cannot possibly move fast. If it moved, it has to be around here somewhere. Someone has to have felt it or seen it.

Someone has to know something about sarlaccs. Someone living. Someone dead.

(Boba sets out to hunt his white whale.)

Teen

This one has a pairing I'd never really considered before Luke/din/poe set in a modern au and I love it

Poe is a us marshall. Din and luke are living in witness protection with grogu but are overly capable of looking out for themselves. As with all spqr fics it is both beautiful and hilarious

As much as Poe is a method actor doing his best to inhabit the role of Pool Boy in the low-budget porno that is this assignment, he is also not and has never been a manwhore.