#this is horrible and I need to be a functioning member of society

[tonya-the-chicken]

I oftentimes think about making some sorta free request thing when I reach 500 followers but then the last time I did requests I finished the last one in a year (a girl can't handle responsibility) and then does anyone even care about my art/fics..... Man idk............

#🚬🚬🚬 #I wamted to try wiritng reqs but everything I do is dependent on if the stars align or no #this is horrible and I need to be a functioning member of society

[fingertipsmp3]

Save me skincare routine. Save me stupidly expensive skincare routine in tiny bottles

#so ya girl turned 28 three days ago and immediately had a midlife crisis #it didn’t even take very long. i opened my eyes at 6:55am on the 8th and immediately started freaking out #okay i want to clarify something. it’s not that i feel a need to perform a certain level of femininity. it’s not even that i care about #my appearance that much. it’s just that for the first time in my life i look older than i feel #and i feel really weird about it actually! that’s never happened for me before. all throughout my childhood i was told how mature and smart #i was; and i always felt like i knew it all. then something flipped when i got into my mid twenties #all of a sudden people started treating me like i knew stuff and was a functioning member of society. meanwhile i’m standing here #with like radio static in my head. i’ve been an adult for 10 years now and i still feel like i’m floundering #but i look at myself in the mirror and i see: dark circles. wrinkles. dry skin. greying hair. horribly chapped lips. matronly body #i mean some of this is just genetic; i’ve had dark circles since i was 15 and my dad went grey at 30 #and none of this is actually Bad. (except for the chapped lips). and it’s not that i don’t want to age. i’ve never considered botox #or plastic surgery and i never will. i genuinely want to look my age. i just… i’m having a hard time because during my early to mid twenties #my skin always looked fantastic despite me doing NOTHING with it. i was literally washing it with cold water and then applying moisturiser #that was once a day at MOST. most of the time i didn’t even do this. and mind you my ‘moisturiser’ was a body lotion #i also used to exfoliate with st ives of all things like… can you believe #i’d always get asked for my skincare routine and i’d just be like ‘i just moisturise when it occurs to me 😌’ #but now the reckoning has come and i’m 28 and look like i got hit by a bus. haaaaaa #it’s just like. it’s not that i want to look 10 years younger. that would be bizarre. i don’t even really want to get rid of my wrinkles #or all my blemishes. i just want to take better care of my skin so that it doesn’t get inflamed and dry and break out all the time #and water + actual fucking LOTION isn’t cutting it because ya girl is ✨28✨ #so i’m going to try cleansing balm; hyaluronic acid; facial moisturiser & spf. i think that seems reasonable #(yes i never wear sunscreen either. feel free to shoot me with a firing squad) #i just hope it works and none of the products make me break out. and also i stick to it #i tried to pick out some gentle products. so let’s just hope for the best i guess. i mean there’s always room to switch things around #personal

[paragonrobits]

i was just thinking about how in later Discworld books, even as its an unspoken understanding among everyone in Ankh-Morpork that Carrot is the King of the city and he's probably the last descendant of the original ruling line, not only does Carrot avoid pushing the narrative to exploit it unless absolutely necessary, but it never de-emphasizes the fact that he's a dwarf by adoption

Even in later books Carrot is still regularly writing letters to his family in their mine; he thinks of himself as a dwarf, he is CONSIDERED to be a dwarf by all except the most hardliners of dwarf society (and even they can't outright deny him dwarf status, the best they can do is say he is an anomaly); he might USE his narrative status as the One True King, but in his heart, to himself, he is still the child of the Ironfounderssons.

His human heritage is functionally irrelevant to him unless he needs to make use of it, much like his ancestral sword. And it occured to me, what if he actively chose to distance himself from his human heritage because he learned about them in later books and found nothing worth acknowledging?

Carrot is in a weird place because he is the One True King, a narrative status that makes him the good and wise king who knows only truth and justice and comes bringing goodness to all, and this is quite a contrast to the ACTUAL kings of Ankh-Morpork, who were universally at BEST a bunch of horribly useless and inept absolute rulers that are living embodiments of 'the aristocracy are dumber than a sack of doorknobs' the series leans into, and at worst are implcitly some of the most horribly sadistic and cruel people in the setting.

One particular example is Lorenzo the Kind, the last king of Ankh-Morpork, whose name was deliberately ironic; he was so horrifically sadistic that he spelled the end of the kingship because he's the one who was killed by Suffer-Not-Injustice Vimes, who because no one was willing to judge him because kings were considered Special, just dragged him off his throne, cut off his head, and the surviving family members were exiled from the city.

Lorenzo is the last member of Carrot's biological ancestry we have definitive information on, off the top of my head, and he paints a dark, horrific image. He's painted as the absolute nadir of horror from the ruling classes, and is heavily implied to have been a sadistic pedophile with a penchant for torture (at the very least Carrot and Vimes both note that he was apparently fond of children and was painted with a lot of them nearby at all times, discussing it in a way that suggests a DEEPLY uncomfortable topic neither of them wants them to address, and later in Feet Of Clay Vimes points out that Lorenzo had unspecified but horrific machines in the basement).

Carrot is very strongly implied to, at least starting from Men At Arms (in which he discovers he is the king), have investigated his ancestry, and he's able to elaborate on their actions and history, and this also marks the point where he carefully but firmly emphasizes his dwarf heritage for the rest of the series.

He found out who his ancestors were, and discovered they were horrifically evil people, and that Mister Vimes was fully justified in being proud of his ancestor putting them down like rabid beasts, and it leads to him firmly emphasizing that his family are the Ironfoundersson dwarfs.

#discworld #carrot ironfoundersson #analysis #queued

[heartthrobin]

cowboy kisses

charlie kelly x fem!reader

wc: 1.2k

warnings: cowboy charlie (s7e1), soft touch-starved charlie, (fake) blood, mention of vomiting, no use of y/n, mac is a jealous baby, fluff, lotsa kissin'

an: i know this is a very niche part of the market but i needed to get it out my system. it's a personal head cannon of mine that Charlie is ace but that doesn't mean he doesn't deserve some kissy kissy and my need to love on him is literally making me a non-functional member of society: so enjoy! remember to reblog and comment to support your favourite writers :3

summary: Charlie makes a handsome cowboy, covered in fake blood or not.

the knock rumbling against your door is almost certainly loud enough to wake up the whole floor of your apartment building. you flinch back against your couch at the sound, flicking off the television that’s been only half entertaining you for the last hour.

“babe! babe!”

even without his calls, you know it’s him. Charlie was the only person who could arrive so unprecedented at your apartment at nearly nine o’ clock at night and not expect a right hook to the jaw as soon as you swing the door open.

you’re halfway to a whisper-yelled “Charlie, keep it down!”, tugging the door open, when you take in the state of your boyfriend.

he’s lively, bouncing on the balls of his feet: hands fidgeting around the orbit of his head. “you won’t believe what happened.”

beyond that, his umber locks are hiding under the reach of a caramel cowboy hat. his chest tucked into a denim vest with a bowler tie flat against it.

most jarring of all is how his whole cowboy get-up and the better half of his face is covered in … is that blood?

“—so then Frank got on one knee and when he proposed, Roxy literally had a heart attack and—“

your boyfriend is still standing out between the hallway and the doorframe, halfway through another outrageous tale that the neighbors are no doubt privy to.

“baby …” your chest tightens and twists in concern. you reach for his face, the blood is caked in his beard but dry to the touch. “you’re covered in blood?”

he quietens at your touch. he usually does. whole body stutters like he’s never been met with a soft hold a day his whole life.

“oh— this? don’t worry, i ate some of these tablet things so i could go on this date with this lady from the internet—“

you’re guiding him gently by the wrist into your apartment, shutting the door behind him.

“you went on a date with a lady from the internet?”

he fumbles, fingers drifting to brush against your palm. “well, not for me. obviously not, i have you—“

nudging him through the apartment to lean against your kitchen sink, which he does without resistance, you laugh lightly. “well, don’t let me hold you back, Charlie.“

his forehead tightens in confusion. you love the look of it on your sweet, sweet boyfriend. the water is cool where you run a rag under it’s stream.

“you know what they say, don’t let your current girlfriend stop you from finding your future wife.” your voice curls at the edge, teasing him, and you’re horrible because you know Charlie is no good on picking up on stuff like that.

he shakes his head, hands nervously scrunching at his sides. your own rise to his head, gently bumping the cowboy hat so that it sits further up his crown and you can start working the wet cloth over the crimson marks on his creased forehead.

“why would— you’re my future wife. aren’t you?” it’s phrased like a fact more than a proposal. a clarification.

Charlie is sometimes the most romantic person on the planet, by no fault of his own. he says things like that with such honesty and quiet conviction that it curls a warm feeling between your organs: like maybe he was the other half every person sets out to find between the throes of fighting general existence. at least yours.

you smile at him. that i’m so fucking sickeningly in love with this doofus kind of smile that seems to set him a little more at ease. his fingers are tentative when they reach for your hips.

“i was just teasing, babe. i’m sorry.”

you’re gentle where you’re dragging the cloth over his skin, working from the top of his face to clean it of blood.

“oh.” he settles. “well anyways, so Roxy has this heart attack: Frank is still on one knee, Mac tries to call 911–!”

Charlie rambles and you listen. at least as well as you can with his less than comprehensible story-telling abilities and his talent for being involved in mostly unbelievable happenings.

the rag has made it’s way to his beard, you’re still trying to work softly: hand under his jaw while the fabric works between strands of wired hair, thumb pressing a bump into the hollow of his cheek.

“so after that we hung up. and i came straight here, cause i wanted to tell you.” he sighs, body slumping with the catharsis of imparting his tale upon you. “Mac said i’m a pussy because i’m always leaving them to come here. but i missed you, and i think he’s kinda jealous cause i have a girlfriend and he doesn’t.”

your hand stills, curling under his chin so your knuckle is steering his face up to yours. “Mac can go suck a dick. and i missed you too, Char.”

he’s the one who presses up for a kiss, eyes still wide and desperate as the day you met. you indulge him happily, squishing your nose against his when your lips meet sloppily and your hands wrap around his neck: pushing him further against the edge of the sink.

Charlie hums and it’s your favourite sound. his hands are lost, but excited where they’re chasing up your back and over your face.

your boyfriend tastes bitter and metallic, like the blood capsules he threw up, but also sweet like the melting packet of caramels he keeps in his jean pocket.

you pull back, brushing your nose against his. his face chases yours: eyes still closed.

“you look so handsome in this little get-up, baby.” sighing, hand twisting into his, you say. “you make a good cowboy.”

he perks up at that, “you should hear my accent! what i said to that lady, so, when she opened the door i said—“

there’s a grumble, like he’s clearing his throat, “—tarnation, you look pretty as a peach. yes you do!”

the accent is crumbly but charming in a way that only your Charlie can make it. he nods, grinning and proud, and you throw your head back to laugh.

you pat fondly over his shoulders, “you’re sure talking a lot about this lady you took on a date while i was sitting home missing you like crazy. was she pretty?”

he guffaws, huffs like you’ve asked him about the weather. “nah. i mean … like, not pretty like you.”

there’s a moment of quiet. he waits to see if he’s said the right thing.

“hmm.” you run a gentle thumb down the side of his face. “you know i don’t like to share.”

you press your chest against his and his breath buckles. his skin is sticky with sweat when you push a kiss into his neck.

“you’re kinda making me all jealous with your story.”

Charlie shakes his head. “you-you shouldn’t be.”

releasing his neck with a pop, briefly grinning at the hickey you’ve painted there, you bump your nose lovingly against his.

“i know.” he’s red with a blush now. “wanna put on a movie and not watch it while we make out on the couch?”

he beams. “hell yeah.”

-

remember to comment and repost if you enjoyed :)

taglist:

@gremlinb1ke @mydogtypedthis @luigisbroth @newluvcassette @karlmarxpizzaparty

#charlie kelly x reader #charlie kelly fanfiction #charlie kelly iasip #its always sunny in philadelphia #iasip #its always sunny in philadelphia fanfiction #charlie kelly x you #charlie kelly imagine

[averyghe]

Not the gods, however someone could call them that, just because of how ancient the times of their existence were…

Star-travelers, all around the universe, traveled the space, and the neighbouring realities for the millions of years, and here is a glimpse at an earlier ones of them.

To begin, I will mention the incorporeal means of traveling used by some, in those ancient eras – the travelers, who used those means of transportation, tend to place their consciousness into the ghost, or astral projection, which than travelled space, like a comet or a ray of light. However the magic utilised in a ritual of creation for such a projection was lost to the time…

Pale ones were, and still are the species of an obscure origin. The only thing which is known, about it, is that on their homeplanet they achieved quite a success in a genetic modifications, which led to a development of biopsionics and telepathy. As well as losing natural means of procreation – pale ones, are born as the embrioids, inside of the artificial wombs on their mother-ships. The interesting detail about their physiology, is the fact that their mouths located on the tops of their heads, are actually are entrances to their BRAINS, or Stomach-Brains, to be clear. The complex neurological structures, which needs a nutritional supplementation, in order for it to function properly…

Pale ones, are rumored to be the kind of demiurges who brought life on several worlds, Hovewer, nobody knows for sure, as even if it is true, it was so long ago, even the Pales themselves are already forgot…

Yulakai or stellar gardeners were native to the planet of Uta, located in the now non existent system in a constellation of Hummingbird. These kind, peaceful creatures, carried in themselves a sources of premordial magic that allowed them to be channels for a weaving itself, and by utilising eat creating a groves, of a strange glowing planets. Those plants that translates a viewing in their glow, allowed Yulakai to travel the universe… By merging with a grow in one place, they were able to appear in another with a bright glow, of a wonderful flowers…

Unfortunately majority of them were killed by a purifiers of a species known as Tsu-Tsurians, or well… Mad Mollusks. In the early days of their civilzation their priests, got a vision, about their civilisation coming to its end, because of the threat coming from a distant stars. Being a species of warriors, cruel and ruthless, they marched in a krussade across the galaxy, obliterating everything which stood in their way. They destroyed civilisation after civilisation, right until their empire collapsed, as the region far from its core world of Tsu-Tsur, started a civil war which led to the species extinction. The interesting detail about Tsu-Tsurians, is their Tentahands – tentacles with the nearly humanoid hand-palms on their ends - quite useful for operating their horrible machinery and the electric blasters capable of burning a creature three times larger than the average tsu-tsurian alive…

Angmu. Whisperers of the ages, masters of illusion. These species of the gigantic octopus-like telepaths, was known for their struggle for accumulqting as much knowledge in their possession as they were able to. In their gigantic libraries, they gathered collections of experience from the thousands of different societies– from the horned apes, that enhabited kingdoms, of the swamp moon of G’naa, to the order of Mafa, sages of ancient Mars, hundreds of millions years ago. From the earliest of Hunter gatherers, from the godlike entities that fight over the Lizard Eyes nebula, to the hunter gatherers from the burned wastelands of planet Guahar. They have valued the first hand experiences, and that’s where their illusions came in handy. By impersonating members of societies they gathered information from, Angmu, often lived whole lives by pretending to be a members of other species. However there is not much of them left now, as they have died out of some unknown decease, that ravaged the galaxy about five million years ago… however some of them are still walking around the halls of their library worlds. And, who knows. Maybe some, are leaving among us, in disguise…

#song of eons #worldbuilding #fantasy universe #illustration #fantasy #fantasy world #science fiction #creature design #aliens #ancient aliens #strange aliens #starfish aliens #non humanoid aliens #character design #speculative worldbuilding #speculative biology #procreate #art #autism creature

[sharkjumpers]

It's so awkward on the chronically disabled end when you go back into a setting like a classroom and your professor's like "glad to see you're better!" I know they mean well and it's a kind thing to say and i always say thank you in turn, and I take no issue with them, it's just like... I'm not. I'm not feeling better or doing particularly good. I just have no other choice but to go out and force myself to function after a certain point because of the way society works. I wish the natural reaction sometimes was "are you feeling any better?" and I wish that it were acceptable to respond and go No. Not really. without making it really weird and without the knowledge that a lot of people just won't believe you. I wonder how many people in the day-to-day lives of disabled people actually grasp the chronic aspects of a disability. I can't think of a day in years where I haven't been in pain in some degree, and I don't mention it everyday because it's just a part of my life. I'm never going to feel all the way better—and maybe I'm being nitpicky with language, but I feel as if I've earned that—and if I were to point that out the mood would go down, or I'd be reassured, or something, and it's like... hmm. I don't say it with great despair or anything, or to be down on myself, it's just a fact of life. I think more able-bodied people should be able to accept statements like "I won't ever get better all the way" without their initial reactions be jumping to assure you or "that's horrible!" (Thanks?) or that you aren't "believing" in yourself. Acknowledging the facts of something isn't inherently a miserable thing, and it doesn't mean I'm complaining or need you to lift me up. I think it'd make my life and a lot of my friends' and family members' lives much easier if people around us understood there's not always a "glad you're feeling better" moment.

#See like i wish i could talk about this without it sounding like im venting or something. IM NOT!!! This is a fact of my life and it makes #people uncomfortable to think about and its a small thing but it always weighs down on me a little that the natural #assumption is that I am doing Better and it's not socially acceptable to do anything but Take it or have to prove that I'm not or something #and it does have an impact on me. Structurally. because then people (professionally) assume when I reach out the next day or something that #I'm lying or something because they viewed me as just Fine an hour ago. #much to think about... #meowing #m

[mirroredmemoriez]

Amanda's misguidance.

I was doing bad- Then I saw a THIRSTY ass post and began giggling (if you can assume who you are, thanks I guess!) but I'll still speak my weewoo brain. (Ok! I never posted this back then, this has been sitting for maybe a week, but the thirsty post was someone's dream.) (WEEKS NOW) I think uh, one of the things that really gets to me about Amanda's character is truly how misguided she was. I know a lot of what I'm going to say has been talked about and all that jazz but I don't really care... This is my rambling not yours. Anyway, she didn't have any solid parental figures even before John. We know that her dad was abusive/neglectful and her mother is never mentioned, not to my knowledge. I've kinda headcannoned her parents as addicts as well, obviously addiction and things such as it can run through families. (Saw X has now highlighted how terrible her father is even more) The wiki page for Amanda Young

This is where her self destructive nature began developing, the lack of care and love but an abundance of neglect and abuse resulting in her not really knowing how to take care of herself or others. I'm not saying she can't love or care for things either, but she doesn't know the correct way of doing so. Amanda loved John, that is a very clear thing. I don't think she knows how to handle her love or where to pinpoint it however. In the sense that she's not experienced parental love, friendships or romantic relationships- Not ones at least that weren't with people who were as down under as her, so I don't count Cecil.

She sees John as a father figure, a leader and a teacher. John is her only guide to life, somebody who set her on a path, even if it wasn't the right one. Amanda is indebt to him for ''helping'' her, even if it's up for debate whether he truly did help, Amanda's drug addiction was by far not her only issue if you look at the bigger picture. She clung to him like a lifeline, even when he hurt her, made her do things she didn't truly believe she could. We know she feels guilt for killing Adam due to the deleted scene where she has a nightmare about him and we also have the fact it was a ''mercy'' killing in the first place. Amanda is tested repeatedly and we also have to acknowledge around the start of her becoming an apprentice, she was going cold turkey, which the symptoms for are horrible. However, she still kept loyal to John and his cause, other people going through such a thing are quick to tell their closest family members they hate them or even ''backstab'' them in pursuit of a fix. Amanda doesn't. Even later on, she never turns back to drugs, instead going back to using self harm as a coping mechanism. I don’t believe the ''love'' she has for John is one sided either, I think he does care for her in his own way, but his self righteous nature at times doesn't let him fully give the support and tenderness Amanda needs.

It makes you wonder what Amanda could of been had she found somebody else who could give her direction, a cause. Somebody prepared to have her as a first priority over their ideology. Where would she be? Could she function in society or would she crush under the pressure. She's never been ''evil'' to me or a cold hearted villain like other horror icons. Amanda is a severely traumatized mentally ill woman, one who kills and tortures due to the fact the only person she has in the world is telling her it's the right thing. Of course, some people will argue that she purposely makes her traps basically impossible, so she isn't even fully listening to John and his beliefs but that's because of how misguided she is.

She DID survive her trap and look at her. Obviously, it also comes from the fact she believes people can't change but you can't really blame her for that either. The amount of death and torment she's been subjected to lasted her a lifetime and was her death, no peace. And even in death? She was reaching for John. Because even with all the pain he put her through, mentally and physically, she loved him. Her saviour who caused so many of her wounds and left others to get infected.

Misguided to the very end.

#their relationship is my roman empire #father and daughter bonds like #stab me right in the chest #do i have daddy issues? now i dont want to be the cliche.... #yes #amanda young #john kramer #saw #saw franchise #saw movies #sawposting #saw 2004 #saw 2 #saw 3 #saw character study #character study #headcanons

[breakingbranchesbella]

Self-Indulgence; A Criminal Minds Multi-Fandom Fic.

Also found on Wattpad, Quotev, and Ao3 under the name BreakingBranches

Warnings: violence, gore, the usual criminal minds episode warnings.

Word Count: 14k in total, split into two parts due to tumblr’s restrictions.

CHAPTER 2 {PART 1}- I Am Not As Strong As I Pretend

Season 1. Episode 16. The Tribe

"Here."

  Cassie looked down at the torn off edge of a notecard. It had chicken scratch on it. A second, more in-depth glance offered the insight that it was not, in fact, hieroglyphics, but instead a series of numbers.

  "What?"

  "It's... a phone number... ever heard of those?"

  "I'm not that archaic. Why?"

  Morgan's right corner of his bottom lip protruded for a moment. He'd suck the top part between his teeth and bite down. He let it go with an exasperated sigh.

  "We all need to have each other's numbers eventually, call it a safety precaution."

  "Alright, then eventually." She'd push the paper back towards him. Dark hands raised in disinterest. "Keep it." Derek urged. He wasn't going to give her a chance to refuse him directly, and with a swift turn he was gone towards some other end of the parking garage.

  Cassie had half a mind to throw it away. Not because she harbored any ill intentions towards Morgan. Mostly the opposite, she just didn't deem it necessary. She hardly answered her phone. Didn't like it all that much. The countless missed calls and unread messages that clogged the tiny blue screen were a testament to that nature.

Though, she weighed the option of telling him she had blatantly thrown out the piece of paper when it came time for all numbers to be exchanged. Which wasn't high on her want-to-do list, so she'd keep it. Stuff it in the back back pocket of dark blue jeans and call it a day.

The parking garage being so full wasn't surprising, three government buildings sat just a few yards away, what was surprising was the fact she was staying. Actually, she was walking towards her car. It had a weird ring to it. It wasn't a rental, or from work. Her car. Technically someone else's given to her. Cassie fought off the urge to spend a few more moments meandering the cold and green-hued structure. She knew where the car was, she didn't want to go home yet.

Yeah, she had one of those too now. A home, a car, pretty soon she'd be registered as a functioning member of society. What a horrible feeling, really. Dark boots kicked up loose concrete just outside the car's driver's side door. The black forester wasn't her style. It stood out too much in her opinion. She hadn't peeled the decals off of the back window. It had been eight months. She should do that.

She got in the car anyways and didn't think about it for the next two weeks.

  The drive wasn't too far, only thirty minutes if you pretended to avoid traffic. Thirty-five if you didn't. Cassie lived in the suburbs of a neighboring city with a white picket fence and a perfectly mundane neighborhood. The house was blue with white accents and a brown roof. The lawn was taken care of, freshly mowed by some teenage boy looking to fund his future mustang. Cass didn't know how far he'd get with that, especially as she watched a gaggle of boys his age rush down the dark streets with bags full of convenience store items.

  The garage had two tall metal shelves on either side. Clutter covered every inch of open space. Holiday decorations, yard work tools, paint supplies, and more that was covered by the former. The forester slowed to a stop, then relaxed forward and jolted her in her seat. The nylon seats didn't offer much cushioning.

  Above her head was a blinding white light with a motion sensor on the fritz. It blinked on and off, and then on again. The door to the garage led to the washing room, and from there the kitchen. Cold white and black quartz was accompanied by walnut cabinets. Unlike the garage, the rest of the home lacked any sort of decoration. Instead of a couch she had a chair, and instead of a grand dining table, she had one found off the side of the road. The decor didn't match the rest of the home. Then again, neither did Cassie.

  All that was left out besides necessities were a few photographs on tall coffee table. She'd breeze her tan fingers past them every-time she walked past. The first few photos featured her and a group, though off to the side there was a handful of photos that were different from the others. The people in these pictures weren't wearing any sort of uniform. They were professionally taken at some park. A man, his wife, and their two children. A young girl, and a toddler. Those four individuals were featured in various poses, all still professionally taken. Some even in this home.

  She couldn't look at them for too long. She stepped around the table and moved towards the chair. She slumped down on it, her elbow rubbed against fabric that was ripping. It would last a few more months before her aimless movements had completely destroyed it. That was a problem for later. Right now she just wanted to—

  Beep.

  Do nothing.

  Beep.

  The same three numbers had been messaging her all day. Two of them had contact names, the third didn't. Booth, González, and an 800 number. She still wouldn't respond.

  Cassie was obviously full of great ideas, which is why she chose not to reach out to those wondering about her, and call a different number. She knew it by heart, dialing it instead of searching through a contact list.

   "Hello?"

  "Gabriel—"

 

  "Cassie? Jesus... it's almost ten, I just put the kids to sleep."

  "..."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Im fine. I just... I haven't found anything but..."

"I know, you miss her. But you can't call this late, not unless it's important. You promise you're okay?"

"I'm fine."

"The house treating you okay?"

"Just fine."

"Good. Then you have a roof over your head, and you say you're fine so I'm going to believe you. Im going to hang up now, ok? I have work tomorrow. I hope you do too."

"Wait. They're both asleep?"

"I'm sorry Cassie. I really think it would be better if you spoke to someone else about this. I know a few good therapists in the area, Talia used to go all the time. It really helped her."

"..."

"She'd want you to move on, you know. It's been almost a year now. You deserve to live too, and I deserve sleep at a reasonable hour. Call me if you need something, an emergency. Otherwise, please, don't."

"Alright, I'm sorry, I just wanted to—"

  The line went dead. A short buzz sounded in her ear, and then nothing. He had a point about the time, but nothing else really registered. More the therapy than the no calling policy. She could listen to instructions, she had been doing that for years. Yet the idea of not getting to speak to the last connection to Talia hurt. It hurt more than she could ever begin to explain. Emotions were never a strong suit, even worse so with the ones she couldn't control. It was like a pit in her stomach, akin to the feeling of nausea. She'd want to vomit, and nothing would be there. No remedy made the feeling go away.

  Slowly, she'd look around the mostly empty house. It was the opposite of a remedy, it made the feeling that much worse. That's why Gabriel hadn't fought Talia's will, he was feeling the same melancholic air that she was. Did most twenty-five year olds write a will? Probably, probably not, she didn't know.

  Reid most likely did. Or something along those lines. He'd have some statistic that felt made up ready to fire the moment something related back to it. That line of thinking led her to rifling through her jeans pocket and pulling out the crinkled piece of paper. She read the number off twice before dialing it.

  What was she even doing?

  "Derek?"

  "Hey— oh?"

  "Cassandra, Lorayne, from earlier."

  "Yeah I figured that out."

  She'd sit up straight in the chair, biting the bottom left corner of her cheek.

  "Sorry."

  "Huh? No, you're all good sweetheart. I just didn't expect you to call so soon."

  "Don't call me sweetheart."

  "Babygirl?"

  "I'm hanging up now."

  "Wait wait, I'll stop. Scout's honor."

  "Good."

  "Good."

  Cassie looked around the room again, this time she'd pick the phone up and head over to the fridge. She held the phone against her ear, not saying anything. Just breathing softly against the electronic device. It was late, but she was hungry all the same. Big girls needed big meals, or something like that. Talia always used to say it when she went on her breaks.

  "Well?"

  "Well?"

  "You're the one who called me. Did you need something?"

  "No."

  "Mysterious, I like that."

  "Please don't."

  "Alright alright, but seriously, you ok?"

  "I... yeah, no, I'm fine. Just," There was a sandwich wrapped in plastic. With a swift motion she pulled it out and tossed it beside her onto the counter. Grabbing a few other items, she continued, "A desperate single woman alone on a Sunday night."

  "Desperate and single?"

  "No. I was joking."

  "I picked up on that."

  "Oh."

  "I'm sure some of it is accurate though."

  "Which part?"

  "Definitely single."

  "Ouch."

  "You said it, not me."

  "I didn't expect hearing it to hurt as much."

  "Don't beat yourself up, we could start a support group."

  "For?"

  "Desperate single agents."

  "But Garcia."

  "Nah, she's too good for me. She deserves someone a little more reliable."

  "I'm glad that's your excuse."

  Cassie fought a frown off at his comment. Then she realized nobody was there in the big empty house to see her, so she stopped fighting.

  "I'm glad that you're glad."

  "Good."

  "Good."

  Morgan let out a grunt. Cass' brows furrowed upon hearing it. A cough caught in her throat as she tried to question him.

  "Are you—"

  "Fine, just didn't finish the paperwork I was supposed to today."

  "Not fun."

  "No, definitely not."

  "If I'm distracting you I can..."

  "It's good you called me. I have your number now, can't throw mine away."

  "I wasn't going to."

  "I'm sure."

  "Maybe I thought about it."

  "Heartbroken."

  "Apologies."

  "You can make it up to me."

  "How?"

  She had finished her monster of a meal. Frankenstein would be proud, and then possibly disappointed she was letting pickles touch the mayonnaise.

  "Tell me a little about yourself."

  "Like?"

  "Whatever comes to mind."

  "I like..." Green eyes were yet again surveying the room. "Home ownership."

  "Home ownership?"

  She thought about Talia.

  "And sightseeing."

  "Home ownership and sightseeing. I would have never guessed."

  "I lied."

  "Which part?"

  "Both."

  "And here I was getting the idea of you hiking through the woods in my head. Maybe your hobby is lying."

  "Something like that."

  "Nothing else comes to mind?"

  Even if sharing parts of herself had never been easy, she almost wished she would have had something to hide now. But there was nothing. Not one thing she could use to define her interests. Work, work, more work, and an obscene amount of tragedy. Greasy breakfast diners, protein bars, beaten down chairs. Those weren't great choices.

  "What about you?"

  "I enjoy hockey. And Kurt Vonnegut."

  "Pearls before swine?"

  "Mother night."

  "Grim."

  "Your choice isn't much better."

  "Not much of a reader. I'm trying to get better about it."

  "Self-improvement is good."

  "You think?"

  "That's what it means, no?"

  She didn't answer.

  "Jeez. Usually my late night calls are less entertaining but..."

  "You don't mean that."

  "Maybe."

  "But it's late, and you should go. Because we both have work."

  "When you put it like that, I guess we should."

  "Were you expecting anything else?"

  "Honesty?"

  "The supposed best policy."

  "Then, no. I wasn't."

  Her face burned.

  "Goodnight Morgan."

  "Hey— hey, it was nice talking to you. Goodnight Lorayne."

  She decided to be the one to hang up this time. Cassie wasn't sure she could handle the sting of the dropped tone a second time that night.

————————————

Getting up early wasn't unusual for Cassie. The normal nine to five had never been part of her skill set. She thrived off of the freeing feeling of absolutely nobody being around at the odd hours of the morning. Except in Quantico there was always somebody. A lot of somebodies to be particular. She had only been through the office once, but memorizing it hadn't been an issue.

Making her way through the glass doors she noticed Elle and Garcia were doing anything but talking to each other. They were staring at someone else.

She didn't get it.

Crossing her arms and standing next to them, she'd tilt her head to the side. "What is—?"

"Hi, Sean, I'm looking for—"

Good. She wasn't the only one getting cut off. Though the fact that it was Morgan didn't make her feel much better. He wrapped around the three women and outstretched his hand towards 'Sean.'

"Derek, and I'm guessing you're looking for your brother?"

The blonde who had just interrupted her, and subsequently received immediate karma walked off with Derek towards Hotchner's office. Elle turned to the two of them. "That's Hotch's brother?"

"Maybe he's adopted?"

Cassie looked to the side, as if there was supposed to be some sort of camera. A gag reel waiting for her. She still didn't get it.

"Why?"

Elle smiled, then hid it between tightly pursed lips. She blinked a few times. "Well, you see Hotch is... textbook agent and his brother..."

"—A forbidden siren with luscious blonde locks."

"That."

She rolled her eyes in disinterest. It clicked. No further questions or comments needed. Still Garcia bit the tip of a plastic pen between her teeth and snarled in his direction. Sadly the only person it caught the attention of was JJ. Her right eyebrow sat lower than the left, which would raise at an arch. "What are you three doing?" And instead of explaining anything, the BAU had to engage in the oddest morning ritual Cass had ever seen. The tall brunette took JJ by the wrist and led her over to her desk. Leaving Garcia and Cassie to follow along like lost puppies. The four crowded around the half cubicle and watch as Sean finally emerged from Aaron's office.

"Hotchner's brother."

JJ's gaze bounced between the three of them, and then back to Sean as he stormed off in a huff.

"I didn't see it before, now I do." Hotch's attention left his brother and found the four women unabashedly staring. JJ creased her fingers under her chin. She'd slip away from the group, only to return with a stack of Manila folders. Cassie and Elle were both handed one, the latter ushered for Cass to follow her towards a meeting room beside Hotchner's office. A moment later Gideon, Reid, Morgan, and Hotch joined them. JJ filed in behind and closed the door halfway. She passed out the remaining folders as she spoke. "Five dead, all from Mesa University, New Mexico. No sign of theft or sexual assault."

  The table was small, almost everyone's elbows narrowly missed one another as they sifted through the information. The sun was finally starting to rise, it glared in through the side of the building. Morgan raised a hand instinctively as the bright hues shone through. "There's not many defensive wounds. And one of them was impaled on a six foot pole." Derek's voice cracked at the end of his first statement, more of a question than not.

  "Why would you want to torture five college freshman?" Elle folded a page behind another and skimmed over the new one. The scrawny kid tossed his head sideways in an attempt to realign a stray strand of hair. He looked up and met Cassie's half smile. He coughed, then found interest back in his paper. "There's no way one single unsub could have had this much control over this many people."

  "More than two?" Greenaway responded.

  Pushing up his glasses, Gideon would respond. "More like a pack."

  "And that is?" JJ looked around, her hands between her cloth covered knees. Like an eager student in a silent classroom Cassie found herself interjecting. The epiphany of knowing the terminology properly filled her with a sense of pride, then as she was speaking, disappointment in herself. If her old unit could see her now, using the words that she was, they'd have her head on a spike. Playfully, of course. Hopefully. Maybe.

  "It's three or more that kill in unison, as it is in nature. Their survival is dependent on their hunt. Essentially, the killing is what keeps them together."

  "And they stay together until they're stopped."

  Nobody spoke up after Gideon for a long time, they were all still processing the case. It was grizzly, a little anachronistic. Usually torture fanatics followed methods employed by the English and eastern cultures. This was different.

  It wasn't long before the group was packing up and heading out. Cassie still wasn't used to the Jet. She settled into a white leathered seat towards the back. It was facing the walkway of the plane. She guessed it would be a four to six hour flight, somewhere in between those times. Which meant she had ample room for conversation.

  This wasn't necessarily a good thing.

  Reid, Gideon, and Elle were crowded around the few seats that were accompanied by a table instead of just open leg room. They chattered amongst themselves, sometimes about the case, sometimes not. Hotch chose to sit across from her. The single section seat wasn't pointed towards her, but he'd turn to face her anyways.

  "How long has it been?"

Cassie opened her mouth to speak, then closed it as she thought more intensely. She'd bit her bottom lip, thinking about events that happened before and after, creating a timeline of the good and bad to pinpoint an actual date. "Two... no. Yes, two years?"

"Two sounds about right."

"You haven't changed."

"You have."

She looked to the side, towards the three still talking. JJ and Morgan were asleep. "Is that a bad thing?" Her gaze still lingered on the back of Reid's head. He was going on a tangent now. Elle was fact-checking him. She knew he was going to be right either way.

"I think it is."

"I hope you're right."

Cassie leaned back, slowly peeling her head away and looking towards Hotch. His expression sympathetic. She'd curl inward instinctively, kicking off her shoes and pulling her knees as close as she could get to her chest. She knew what was coming next.

"Don't be."

Aaron cocked his head.

"What?"

"Sorry. Don't be sorry. Please."

"Alright. Then I'm not."

"It happens."

His chest would rise and fall with slow, calm breaths. "It happens?"

"It's the line of work we chose. If it didn't happen then, it was likely to happen another time. That's life."

"You're right."

"I know."

"Good talk Lorayne."

Any harder now and she'd puncture the soft flesh of her mouth.

"I'm sorry. I appreciate it, I do, but I just don't want to hear it anymore."

"I'm not mad."

"I don't care if you are, I'm just explaining myself."

"We don't have to keep talking about it."

"Please."

She tiptoed around the edge of desperation. Narrowly missing the tone that threatened to tug at her voice. It was time to work, not think about what had and what could have been.

————————————

  Despite the earlier conversation, Cassie still went with Hotch, Reid, and Gideon to the crime scene first. She didn't have the luxury of mulling over her feelings beyond the few hours given to her. It was time to work, no other way around it. She had spent her formative years adhering to a certain standard of professionalism. Still, mistakes were made. They were going to repeat themselves one day. For now, she'd swallow whatever lumped in her throat and move on.

  There was another rental van waiting for them. Same as they always were.

The steely black vehicle pulled parallel to the concrete just before the house seen in the photos. Yellow tape was tied in a loose box around the property. Two brown police cars sat parked, a few detectives and local cops were talking outside. Aaron tucked the plastic end of his sunglasses behind his ear and wasted no time in addressing the sheriff.

"Agent Hotchner, Reid, Gideon, Lorayne."

"Is this all?" The sherif peered over Hotch's shoulder towards the van. Nobody else was coming. Aaron didn't miss a beat.

"The other agents are at the station house checking out the victims files. What has forensics come back with?"

The older man rubbed the knuckle of his pointer finger against his nose in a sweeping motion twice before answering. "CSU went through trace evidence and prints, they think looking at the footprints would be a waste with all of the workmen coming through here. Follow me." He pulled one end of the long line of tape up so the team could walk under it into the house.

Cassie waited, she was staring towards the ground. Gideon caught her lapse in pace. "Something the matter?"

She shouldn't have been as nervous as she was. Well, she didn't feel all that nervous, it was more of a feeling of displacement. But that word felt too emotional for her liking. So she'd pretend it was nerves. Just nervous, not worried about what all she should be contributing to the team. Cassie would find her grove soon. What she really wanted to do was call the sheriff inane for not checking for footprints anyways.

Instead, like the charming young woman she was, she'd shake her head and follow after the other men. Her expression didn't really read charming, though, more annoyed.

The house was practically empty besides a few tables here, some blood splatters there. What was interesting was the mess, or lack thereof. In the photos the bodies had been skinned, yet the floor got away with only a handful of stains. Reid and Hotch picked up on it too, the scrawnier of the duo flipped through some of the photos with a fervor. Cass craned her neck over his shoulder and pointed her heels upwards. He was flipping too fast for her to concentrate on just one thing.

Finally he stopped skimming through them and looked back to her. His face changed. "Look at this." He held one of the gore filled pictures towards her. She wasn't sure what she was supposed to be looking at in particular. He pursed his lips at her confusion and spoke loud enough for everyone to hear his revelation. "Whoever did this purposefully avoided cutting the skin at the wrist and the throat. He was avoiding where the veins and arteries are closest to the surface."

It was the sheriff's turn to be confused. Cassie interjected. "They weren't supposed to bleed out, the intention was skinning them alive."

It wasn't just a brutal way of murder, it was a brutal way of torture. The sheriff flinched at the idea and shook his head. Again he'd brush the top of his nose with his knuckle. His head was down as he gestured towards the next room. Inside were bear cans, bottles, makeshift party games. Two sleeping bags, and one upstairs.

"Not the type of party to bring a fifth wheel to."

"It's unlikely that they were a fifth wheel. It's possible there was a third girl here." Gideon looked from Cassie to the Sheriff. Who looked to Hotch when he picked up where the former two had left off.

"Have your deputies canvas the area, see if anyone saw the other girl with them."

He'd nod and take a step towards the sliding glass doors. "There's one more thing you should see."

The group traveled out towards what was a dust filled backyard. A large metal spike sat covered in dried blood. Reid took a step towards it, then another one back. Cassie brushed past him and circled the thing. "He was alive when they impaled him, just like the others." The brunette's nose creased.

"This is going to sound strange, but, the way that these victims were flayed alive and- and mutilated, impaled, they're all war rituals that the Native Americans used."

"That ring any bell?" Hotch had taken off his glasses. Cassie preferred it this way. She could follow his eyes properly.

"It does. I mean, look around you, everything we're walking on is Apache land. This basin is a sacred burial ground. As I understand it, it was the sight of a handful of her massacres."

"So you're saying this development is on their land?"

The sherif looked back at Hotch. "It was their land. But they didn't want to build on it, so the town ended up seizing it."

Cassie crossed her arms. A few months ago the Supreme Court had ruled that cities could now seize private land for development. A lot of people were angry, not just Native Americans. She had nothing besides a gut feeling of different rational. She understood the BAU tried to think like their unsubs, and she was trying it too. But if she was them, murdering five college students wasn't how you get your point across. Maybe it was someone from the reservation, but there had to have been something else. A piece of information they hadn't gotten yet. A better reasoning for torture.

If it were her she'd set a building on fire. Not kill drunk teens.

"Have there been any violent outbursts on the reservations part?" Gideon leaned back on his heels and flicked his stack of photos through the air. In response the sherif only shook his head. He was looking down at his feet again.

"Anybody on the reservation you think is capable of this?"

"I wouldn't know, it's federal jurisdiction."

The lines of Gideon's face seemed more prominent. Maybe the heat was getting to him. The bottom part of his nose twitched.

"Sounds like that's where we need to go."

He'd make his way back through the sliding glass door and towards the front of the house. The Sherif followed soon after. Hotch nodded towards Cass and Reid, who were both evidently distracted with something else. Cassie was still debating the possibility of a reservationist and Reid was too busy staring at the bloodied spike.

"You two," they both turned. "Get our girl on the line, see what she can find."

Hotch was following Gideon, and Reid was following Hotch. Cassie had nobody's number besides Morgan, hadn't been given the chance to get any yet. So she'd just meander behind the brown haired man as he spoke to Garcia on the phone. He'd given her a rundown, any Apache on the reservation who fit the profile of a right's activist. A moment later Reid handed the phone to Hotch. A few more seconds went by before Hotch turned to the sheriff. "You familiar with Blackwolf?"

"He's been in a bit of trouble related to his activism, yeah, nothing's ever been violent though. And certainly not around here."

"Should we call the reservation police to alert them anyways?"

The sherif got an odd look in his eye. He'd turn his head, swap the flesh of his cheek back and forth before his mouth opened with a click. "I don't think that's a good idea. Blackwolf is the reservation police."

Looks were exchanged, but this was nothing new to any of them. Or at least it wasn't to Cassie, and she hoped the others were in the same boat. Military was a whole different world. A lawless land that found it couldn't run without those laws. So they'd appoint new people to new positions, the only problem was the police there weren't being asked to detain regular citizens. They were being asked to arrest soldiers. Trained killers. For their country, of course, but that didn't mean those skills couldn't be used elsewhere. From a first day private to a Navy SEAL, Cass had seen it all. Those guys were good, she had to learn to be better. Maybe not stronger, but smarter. 

The black van tumbled down the gravel road that filtered into dirt. Gideon sat diagonally to her, they locked eyes through the rear view mirror. She was getting a little tired of this. "You don't think it was him?"

All eyes were on her now, even Hotchner made the attempt to look back through the mirror. Though his attention was mostly on getting them from point A to point B without any casualties.

"Did I say that?"

"No, but you don't look very confident."

She didn't say anything to that. The vehicle bounced against the lack of road. It was almost as jarring as the sounds the van made throughout the trip. It narrowly pulled through an open grated fence. There were no parking spaces, but stopping before the woman standing and watching them seemed appropriate in some people's eyes. The sheriff's busted car rolled to a stop alongside their own.

"This is Jane Bear, Jane, these are FBI agents. Gideon, Hotchner, Reid, Lorayne." Cassie shook her hand last, it was cold, well taken care of. "Miss Bear is the principal of the reservation school here and the president of the tribal council." Busy.

Cass wasn't the only one thinking it. At least she had the decency, or something else, to keep her mouth shut. There was a clear standoffish nature about her. Not that she was rude, or that she didn't have any right. Cass could empathize with something being taken from you. In this case it wasn't just freedom, she couldn't extend her understanding beyond that. She wasn't going to try. It was a shitty situation. Shitty government. And yet she was here like a lapdog on a leash, as per usual.

"Where's John, Bear?" He rested his hands on his hips. Like a lightbulb turning on, it clicked for her. "I'm sorry— is this about the Terra Mesa killings?"

"They just want to talk to him Jane."

"Blackwolf has done more to help this place than anyone, he wouldn't jeopardize that. Jim, you've called him countless times to find lost hikers. He's not a violent man."

"No, but he'd defend his people if he felt he needed to."

"And that relates to Terra Mesa how?"

Hotchner cleared his throat and took a half step closer. "If John considers the development an attack on Apache land, then..." Jane pursed her lips and turned on the heel of her beaten boots.

"Those developers have paid people a lot of money to move. With so many gone we can barely fill a single class."

Who they could only assume was Blackwolf stood in front of an old green chalkboard. The class was full, but the students looked to be a fair bit older. She'd guess the younger students were more dispersed between classes. The current subject was history, there were scribbled dates on the board and maps hung over every free inch. She heard someone whisper beside her, and there stood Reid mouthing the answer to every question. Until he was given the opportunity to answer someone else's question. Hotch shot him a dirty look. He got the memo after that.

"John, I'll take over." Jane's brows raised as she quickly attempted to deescalate the rising tension. He'd make no attempt to hide the large knife he pulled from the desk drawer as he followed the group outside.

It was Gideon's turn to do the introductions for everyone. Except there were no firm handshakes or pointing this time. Just a harsh puff of air through his nostrils and an attempt at reading them. "You look like a college professor. You look like his student. You, well you look FBI. But she's not." He paused, tilted the end of his knife towards her. "Military." She'd sat through her fair share of distaste in her profession. It came with the territory. No reason to argue over it.

"We're with the Behavioral Analysis Unit."

"Then you ought to know better."

Hotchner squared his stance. "How do you figure?"

 

"We don't massacre. You two do, your government."

"Mr. Blackwolf,"

Cass frowned, she grabbed the stack of photos she had in her bag. Pressing them into his hands roughly, she'd swing the pack over her shoulder. "What am I supposed to do with these?"

 

Gideon attempted to play damage control. "You're an expert in Native American customs. We want your opinion."

He'd flick through the photos, his eyes widening ever so slightly. He tried to hand them back to Cassie, but she crossed her arms and stared blankly instead of taking them back. "I need to see the sight, I don't make opinions off of pictures." Which was a relatively privileged way of thinking, but nobody had the capacity to argue with him.

From one place to another, they were back at the house. Blackwolf was intent on checking the grounds outside. Maybe he wasn't entirely dense.

He proved her right, and then wrong a moment later. Reid had gotten curious, and poked the wolf.

"Why don't you carry a gun?"

"Twenty-one feet."

"Excuse me?"

"Ask your friends, they're heavy-handed."

Hotch smoothed his hair under the end of his glasses. "The minimum distance an attacker with a knife can travel before someone with a firearm can react."

Which was correct. What wasn't was solely relying on that fact. Cass didn't like the statements always and never, there was always a sometimes. But her sometimes and Blackwolf's were different. He'd rather run, she'd rather aim to kill. Difference in reasoning she supposed. Didn't make her like him anymore. Her opinion was middle ground. Better than most people got.

Being egotistical wasn't something that was a required personality trait for the FBI, even if most agents were. Cass bit back the smile when Blackwolf made his first stop the back of the home, and subsequently the dirt beneath their feet. He looked between the photos and the scenery and then stood back up.

"They used war rituals, sure, but not solely Apache rituals. Not one tribe ever used all of these techniques, at least not like this. They'd know that if they were Indians."

He walked in a slow circle.

"There was a sixth woman here. She was ambushed, there. At least two sets of footprints. Six back there."

"You're saying there were eight?"

"Maybe more."

Gideon cut in, "Eight perpetrators, one hostage."

————————————

The station house lighting was dark, dreary. There wasn't much in the way of legibility of the papers taped to cork boards that littered the short hallways. The BAU had been a board that moved and half the space of a cramped office. An unhappy officer was pushed out to an open desk, however the briefing seemed to redirect that anger elsewhere.

She'd prepare herself for the 'who's it' portion of their conversation. Reid started, he spoke of their inability to understand practical Apache culture. Their knowledge of it was important, but it wasn't that of a native's. More someone staring into a room without ever hearing the words spoken. Morgan took over afterwards, covering the topic of surrendered identities in these groups. Whether they followed religious, racist, or political ideologies, they didn't think of themselves as individuals, but as parts of a 'greater' whole. Hotchner and Elle took turns. They put faces to names, referencing other groups with similar motifs and behaviors. Kidnapping was the hill they were dying on, it's what made it different. Whoever the girl was had been important enough to keep. Slaughter wasn't their only goal, which meant it could have been a sign of domestic terrorism.

The earlier, disgruntled cop turned his nose up at the profile. "These are Indians we're talking about though, right?"

Cassie's imagination came and went in waves. Currently she found herself putting Blackwolf's head on a small slider of like to dislike. He was going up a little more, she was able to appreciate how he shut the other man down.

The conversation ended shortly thereafter. The profile was finished. Nobody had anything else to add. There just wasn't enough evidence to immediately point fingers. And where they had, had already been ruled out. Reid and Morgan stared towards the moveable board, photos and papers littered the entire expanse. Cassie thought about following the other four members of the group into the office besides their impermanent one.

"Hey."

She no longer thought about following them. Her brows curved upwards as she met Morgan's gaze. The other occupant of the room wasn't paying attention. Cassie took tentative steps forward, closing the gap so she could lower her voice. Someone else hearing the ensuing conversation would 'knock her street cred'. That's what she told herself.

"Hey."

"How was it?"

"I wanted to apologize—"

They had both spoken at the same time. Awkwardly she clasped her lips shut and looked towards the single office desk in the room.

"Apologize?"

"Don't worry about it, I don't want to anymore."

Derek laughed. She felt childish. In another life she wouldn't have cared. That was still this life, she should be doing better. As though a switch were flipped she crossed her arms and hardened her expression. Not angry, just apathetic.

"It was fine, earlier, I think we shared the most important pieces with the 'class'. Well, beyond Blackwolf being a caricature."

"Of?"

"I'm not sure yet. Something. You should know."

"I get what you mean."

They both let out short, heavy breaths.

"Well?"

"Nothing just wanted to ask you about it."

Her eyelids creased. Reid was only just now paying attention to their conversation. Which was sign enough for her to stop talking. Thankfully, a second later JJ peered around the corner and informed them they may have a suspect. Roy Minton, founder of what he called the American Defense Unit. In short, racist fueled militia. Not a very well kept secret. Not an uncommon group capable of committing murder in the way they had. The ADU sounded a lot like the Bible that some military men read. Whatever had been beaten into their heads made them think they were deserving of the end all be all on how this country should be run. If they needed to do that through force, they'd find a way. Nine times out of ten she ended up arresting them for their ideologies taking them too far out of the normal standards of society. Hatred bred fear, and fear breeds violence. The cycle never stopped. Not here.

Not long after and Minton was being lead through the various hallways towards, well, just another office. They didn't have a free interrogation room on hand. So he was shoved in there with Hotch. Who requested Morgan join him. It was a little brazen, a little unprofessional, but Cassie pushed her way through the door right behind the latter. She got a quick look, but nobody seemed to tell her to leave. Interrogations were her thing. Technically, everything was her thing because it had to be. She was still trying to relearn that she could trust her team.

Derek pulled a free chair and swung it around on one leg until it was facing away from Minton. His posture tensed up for a moment. He avoided eye contact with Morgan at first. Only seemed to feel that Hotchner was the person worth speaking to.

"Mr. Minton, do you have any idea who might be behind the Terra Mesa killings?"

He lulled his head to the side, and loosened up a little. "The Indians have a long history of violent outbursts. You know the Apache used to kill white settlers. Put their heads on pikes."

"That was a long time ago Mr. Minton."

"No. That was the other night. They killed those college kids, I'd know, my family has been dealing with those Indians for a hundred and fifty years."

Morgan's hands clasped around the back of his chair. He leaned against the cool leather rim of the seat. "That rhetoric is the type of thing people use to justify their own violence."

He was abashed, unnerved by having to speak to Derek. He couldn't make eye contact. "We're fighting them in court, not in someone's backyard."

"You don't usually need twice as many guns as your men for a court case." Cass' nostrils flared as she let the right part of her hip lean against the desk besides Aaron. Her arms crossed under her chest.

"Exercising our constitutional right."

She'd scoff, maybe it was a laugh.

 

"It's our right to protect ourselves, our home."

"You're paranoid."

"Not in this day and age."

Which was as paranoid as it could get. Indians weren't his biggest worry. Or they shouldn't have been. Cassie's laugh signaled to Hotchner to talk over. The rest of the interrogation was short. A few questions about his members, a few questions about the lawsuit. They'd let it go after that.

The group gathered in the small office, Aaron called the sheriff in to join them. Cassie pressed tan palms to the rough wood of the desk and push herself up until she was sitting on the edge of it. Elle and Morgan spoke loudly back and forth. They shared similar views on the type of person Minton was. However, from what they had learned he wasn't shaping up to be a great suspect either. He was a racist, sure, but he was mostly using it as a stepping stool. He was money hungry, but money required labor and labor required a purpose. Mob mentality. He'd use it to get what he wanted. This made him less likely to commit the acts himself, and more likely that it was small group of people he riled up.

"Have some of your men put Roy under surveillance."

Gideon shoved his hands in his pockets.

"You really think it's him?"

"No, but he's likely to lead us to whoever it is."

The sheriff didn't get to ask any more questions. A light ringing tone sounded from Morgan's pocket. He pulled the device out and flipped it open. Holding up his left pointer finger he murmured 'Garcia.' "What do you got for me?" Silence, then a compliment. He closed the phone and nodded a few times. "Garcia thinks she found our sixth victim. Fingerprints match up." He slid the phone back into his pocket and moved behind the desk Cassie was sitting on. "Ingrid Greisen." It seemed whatever they were looking at was the full ID of the young woman. Which she doubted was actually in the county's system, so Garcia must have sent it over. She turned slightly so that she could watch the others watch the screen. Hotchner leaned over Derek and pointed. "There's the address. Elle, JJ, Morgan, let's go." Which meant the rest were supposed to sit here and mull over invisible evidence. Not her preferred method of solving cases.

It was getting late after that. The sun was setting around eight, but Cassie chose to stay anyway. There were a few officers who went in and out. She watched them, preferring a corner of the wide open space instead of squeezing into the small office. Someone had lent her a laptop, which she was grateful for. And then not so much when she opened the first tab. In hindsight, she shouldn't have been so optimistic. She closed out of a few things and tried to shake the images from her head. Not as bad as they could have been, but she didn't need to see in-depth advertisements for hair plugs.

Being a new member left her with little say, or at least she deemed it that way. Where she was from the newbie always caught the most flack. Here wasn't too awful, she was treated with respect.

There was still a divide, however. Whether it be from worldview or something else. The team was close. She was trying, and failing, to not find any attachments here. So, instead of moping around any longer over the disconnect, she put her feeble internet skills to work. Logically in a 'tight-knit' community like this, there were bound to be groups beyond the ADU. Because tight-knit didn't exactly mean friendly, it simply meant everyone else was in each other's business. There were online forums, groups, meetings at local libraries and mom and pop shops everywhere nowadays. If someone had an opinion, someone else had to disagree. But it couldn't just be one voice, they had to prove that the fact they were disagreeing was important. So they'd make fliers, MySpace posts, you name it. If they didn't like blue flowers, they'd call themselves the people in protection of the red plants. Which would spark outrage, which would spark a million other disagreements. Everyone had to share their opinion.

She tried to remember what she was like when she was a nineteen-year-old girl, what would have caught her attention? Nothing that a proactive teen would have liked. So she started over. Something catchy, something that would make people feel like they were accomplishing a goal. A couple of slow and meaningless clicks took her to a forum she found pretty interesting; only for the imagery before her to change. Instead of a fuzzy blue screen, sat a black tweed bag. A palm landed flat on the tiny makeshift desk beside the laptop.

"Miss Greenaway."

"Lorayne."

Cass couldn't make out if this was a good expression or a bad one. The similarly tan-toned woman cocked a brow. "Come on, the others are headed to the hotel. You're rooming with me."

Silence followed.

"Don't look so disgusted."

"Sorry."

Elle grabbed the bag and took a few steps back.

"Well?"

Lorayne didn't budge, she was trying to find that forum again. "Well what?"

"They want us out of their office space."

"No, they don't."

"No, but we should give it back anyway."

"They won't use it." She was having a harder time navigating the machine for some reason. Maybe it had just been a miracle that she had been able to in the first place.

"Are you the type to work yourself to death?"

This comment grabbed her attention. She looked up cautiously and shook her head. There was a hint of genuineness to her voice. A hint of confusion too. "I'm not. It's only nine."

Elle's bottom lip hung open. "What can I say to get you to come along?"

The other debated then frowned and closed the laptop. "I'm coming. I'm hoping this isn't some sort of drinks after the workday type of ordeal."

They made their way out of the building, Elle took the lead as they walked down the street. There was enough semblance of a put-together town for that to be okay. Neither of them were worried about the figures that lingered behind them in the dark. Cassie could only guess there was some dinky motel down the road, and using the large rental vans wasn't needed for this trip.

"I can't believe you think so little of me."

Greenaway's tone was a little taught. Playful or not, best to play it safe. "Not really. I wouldn't blame you too much."

"Wow, how thoughtful."

"Sorry."

The streets were illuminated with bright neon signs, they did more work than the streetlights. It seemed every other was busted beyond repair. Some flickered, others were shattered from however long ago. "What were you and Hotchner talking about?"

She'd turn her head while walking. "Why do you ask?"

"Small talk. You're new to the team and we haven't spoken much."

"Do we need to?"

"Are you always like this?"

Cass pressed the tip of her tongue against her cheek. Her lips pursed. "Not always."

"You and Morgan seem to be friends."

"I could say the same about you and Reid."

Secretly she was hoping that comment would elicit a reaction. They locked eyes, both hoping for the same thing. It didn't come in the way they were looking for, but they'd laugh anyway. Elle's was cathartic to hear. Cassie's was stifled by her embarrassment.

"I'm sorry." She waved a hand after composing herself.

"Stop saying that. You can say sorry by telling me what you and Hotchner were talking about."

She was getting tired of having to owe people. "Does it have to be truthful?"

Elle thought about it for a moment, almost genuinely pondering her question.

"Preferably."

"We used to know each other."

"Well, I figured that much."

"That's about it. He asked me how I was, I think."

The sidewalk got worse the further they walked. Which probably meant the hotel was close. Within another minute or so of walking it was across the street. A two-story little thing, painted blue with brick accents. There weren't many cars parked outside. Save for a BMW and a rental.

"Hotch took care of the room arrangements earlier. JJ lucked out, a whole room to herself." Elle flashed the one steel key on the metal ring. Their room was on the second floor. Two beds were covered in what was a scratchy wool decorative blanket. Two hard pillows, a thick white comforter that was tucked tightly beneath the mattress. It felt like what home was supposed to be.

Rifling through the bag she had taken from Elle, she pulled out a shirt that would look to be a little tight on her. She'd strip her own off anyways, and then her bra, and then her pants. Blatantly in the corner of the room. Little to no shame. Cass pulled the tight, graphic T on over her toned arms.

"What?"

"Nothing."

Elle opted to change in the bathroom. Lorayne didn't get it.

————————————

#criminal minds #dr spencer reid #derek morgan #spencer reid #aaron hotchner #x reader #bau team #elle greenaway #jason gideon #seeley booth #hannibal lecter #will graham #bones tv #hannibal #x oc #spencer reid x reader #derek morgan x reader #jj jareau #jj x reader

[sintassays]

The Fascist Themes of Batman: The Dark Knight Returns

I recently put together a presentation for my campus' Sociology Club analyzing the political messaging of Frank Miller's Batman: The Dark Knight Returns. This story is very unsubtle in promoting fascistic ideas. I was shocked during my first watch how in-your-face these ideas are throughout the story.

I say "watch" because I watched the 2013 animated film adaptation. I haven't read the 1986 comic, but from what I know, the movie adaptation is almost 1 to 1, so I don't think there's a need to focus much on the distinctions.

The premise of the story is that after ten years of Batman's retirement, Gotham City has gone to hell. Super villains have either completely disappeared or been detained. The city's crime rate is at its highest in history, and hopelessness dominates Gotham. It is at this point that Bruce Wayne comes out of retirement as Batman to fix this horrible state of affairs.

I'll structure this post in the same way I structured the powerpoint presentation: Organized by the core themes of fascism that appear throughout the narrative.

Rehabilitative Justice Doesn't Work:

This film is very hostile to the idea that criminals are worth rehabilitating. One of the core antagonists of the story, the Mutant gang, is portrayed as purely sadistic, committing crime for their own sick pleasure rather than for profit or out of desperation. They commit violence for violence's sake. This fact heavily implies that an effort to turn them into normal, functioning members of society would be a waste.

The Mutants are hardly Batman's only enemies in this story, however. Two of Batman's most famous villains, Joker and Two Face, are in a rehabilitative mental health facility.

Two Face, embracing the identity of Harvey Dent at the beginning of the film, receives plastic surgery to correct his facial deformities and make both of his sides match. This surgery, combined with a decade of therapy, is sufficient for the mental institution to release Harvey and let him reenter society. However, within days of his release, Harvey suffers a psychotic break and returns to crime, threatening to blow up the Gotham City Life Building if he doesn't receive $22 million. Batman quickly moves to stop Two Face and bring him to justice, and at the end of their confrontation with, Harvey reveals that he believes the surgery failed and that he could never re enter society. He perceived his facial surgery as making the whole of his face scarred and deformed rather than normal. He told Batman that the therapists at the mental facility could never fix him. He embraced being fully consumed by his dark side.

Before I get to Joker, I have to introduce psychiatrist Dr. Bartholomew Wolper, the man in charge of the rehabilitation of criminals like Joker and Two Face. Dr. Wolper is portrayed by the film as naive, self righteous, and even arrogant in his confidence in the rehabilitative, compassionate approach to dealing with criminals and the mentally ill. He uses cheesy slogans like “Hey, I’m ok” and “Get real” in his promotional book and other promotional material for his work, implying that there may be a financial incentive involved in his stances. In his TV appearances addressing the Batman controversy, he blames Batman for his clients' wrongdoing, claiming that they're drawn in by Batman's "narcissistic hero complex" and compelled to fight him. The film makes him the personification of the conservative stereotype of the "soft on crime liberal."

On we go to Joker: He is brought onto a late night talk show with Dr. Wolper as “proof” of the effectiveness of the rehabilitative approach. Not long into the show’s recording, Joker shows his true colors and kills the entire studio and host with his laughing gas. Dr. Wolper is his first victim, with his throat slit by a coffee mug that Joker broke in half. This demonstrates the idea that "liberals will fall victim to their coddling of the criminal class."

Batman: Outside the Law

Now you might be thinking, "How does disregard for the law line up with fascism?" But just bear with me here, I can explain.

Throughout the film, there is an ongoing debate among the public and the media over Batman’s apathy toward civil rights. Batman beats, captures, and sometimes even tortures people in pursuit of his vision of justice, all without due process of any kind. Batman does not abide by the Bill of Rights in any capacity in his approach to criminal justice.

Batman's interactions with police are also helpful in analyzing this theme.

Under pro-Batman Police Commissioner Gordon, the cops tend to step aside and let Batman go about his work. Early on in the movie, during a scene in which both a squad car and Batman are chasing after a group of armed robbers, an older cop in the squad car tells his younger partner to step aside when he realizes Batman is on the scene. Cops under Gordon are used to letting Batman do their dirty work, especially when that dirty work involves violating people's civil rights. Batman tackles one of the robbers, breaking his leg and choking him out in an effort to make him talk and spill information related to the robbery. The younger officer, insistent on doing things by the book and obeying the law, is disgusted by Batman's excessive force and cruel and unusual punishment. However, Batman's methods are portrayed by the film as effective, and Batman's detractors, like the young police officer, are portrayed as naive, unreasonable, and weak. Batman gets the job done, while the liberals who whine about civil rights just get in their own way.

In contrast, under anti-Batman Police Commissioner Ellen Yindel, who takes the role of police commissioner after Gordon's retirement, Batman is an outlaw. Intent on following the law, Yindel issues a warrant for the Batman's arrest on the charges of assault, battery, and vigilantism, among other crimes. On the night of Joker's mass murder during his talk show appearance, the police intercept Batman on the roof of the studio engage him in direct combat when he attempts to evade arrest. Batman's fight with the police goes on for an extended period of time, and once Batman is forced to flee from the cops, Robin informs him that Joker successfully fled the scene, evading capture from both the police and Batman. The police, in their pursuit of holding Batman accountable for his crimes and civil rights violations, let a serial killer get away. Their "soft on crime" approach, favoring due process and reasonable use of force, failed to apprehend a criminal and keep people safe.

Before moving onto the next theme, I'd like to bring up a character who is a stark contrast to Batman: Superman. In this film, Superman takes direct orders from US President Ronald Reagan. Rather than resorting to vigilantism and work to better society in whatever way he sees fit, Superman believes it is best to work within the system in order to create social change. Batman sees him as a government lackey, a sellout without the spine to break the chains of the existing liberal democratic order do what needs to be done for the public good.

Democracy is a Sham

In this movie, elected officials at all levels of government are portrayed as incompetent, weak, and/or disingenuous.

The mayor of Gotham City (who is never actually named, oddly enough) is weak and indecisive, relying heavily on opinion polls and frequently repeating himself in a weak attempt to appear capable and sure of himself. In an attempt to boost his approval rating, the mayor attempts to enter into negotiations with the leader of the Mutant gang rather than taking a bold stand against them. Immediately after he enters the Mutant leader's jail cell for the negotiations, the mayor is murdered by the mutant leader, who slashed the mayor's throat. He attempted to pursue peace and order through civility diplomacy, through compromise with criminals, and fell victim to those criminals as a result.

Upon taking office, the new mayor, Mayor Stevenson, states he is still willing to negotiate with the mutants even after their leader killed his predecessor. This is as weak and pathetic as it gets.

Local officials are hardly the only elected leaders criticized by this film. President Reagan is portrayed as not fully understanding the seriousness of his office as well as being a bit dim and goofy. In a conversation with Superman, Reagan compares Batman to a "wild bronco, kicking down the fence and making the other horses crazy." These cheesy cowboy metaphors are common in his approach to presidential policy, and he is hard to take seriously as a result. He is also transparently apathetic to the needs of the people, letting it slip that US troops were fighting the Soviets to “protect our interests” before immediately correcting himself to “stand up for freedom.”

Additionally, the president, governor, and mayor of Gotham all run away from taking a clear stance on the Batman issue, with each deferring to a lower ranking official when pressed for comment by the press.

Militarism

Batman views his crusade on crime as a war. He refers to Robins as "good soldiers," saying of the late Jason Todd, "He was a good soldier. He honored me." And when the Robin of this story, Carrie Kelly, nearly loses her life falling from a hang glider, Batman catches her, pulls her up to him, and holds her close, patting her back and saying "good soldier, good soldier." Additionally, he brought a literal tank into the Mutants' hideout (with rubber bullets. Even Frank Miller won't let Batman kill, thank goodness).

One Great Man

The most memorable scene in this film for me was Commissioner Gordon comparing Batman to FDR in his "too big to judge" speech. He gives this speech in a conversation with Yindel about why he supports the Batman.

Gordon recounts the state of the United States in the immediate aftermath of the Pearl Harbor attacks in 1941. He says that the American people were scared and uncertain after the bombings, shaken to their core. But then president Roosevelt rallied America together to enter the war and defeat the Axis, motivating the populace with his "strong and sure" voice and oration skills. Later, it was rumored that FDR knew that the attack on Pearl Harbor was coming and decided to let it happen. "That rolled around in my head for days," Gordon said. "How horrible it would be if that were true." But Gordon eventually came to believe that it was FDR that won the US the war, and it was the Pearl Harbor attacks that drew the country into the war to begin with. For this, Gordon decided, he was "too big to judge." Sure, it would have been awful to let such a horrific attack happen, but that attack got the US into the war and eventually led to the defeat of the Axis. Similarly, Batman may violate people's rights with his brutal and illegal methods, but he lowers Gotham's crime rate, makes people safer, and gives people hope. Gordon's point: A leader who does horrible things should not be condemned if those horrible things ultimately contribute to the greater good.

Additionally, when a nuclear explosion above the US knocks out electricity in the country and plunges society into chaos, it’s Batman who leads Gotham to stability after everything falls apart, making Gotham the only major US city to maintain order. Despite this, Reagan still orders Superman to go through with the plan to get Batman out of the picture. In Batman’s words, “They only want me dead because I’m an embarrassment. Because I do what they can’t. What kind of an authority is that?” With the failure of the existing system, it is only Batman that is able to put Gotham back on a good path.

Closing thoughts:

As I stated in the beginning, I don't think this film's messaging is subtle in the slightest. It is very up front about everything it has to say, the vast majority of which I think is completely reprehensible. Still, despite being a staunch progressive who opposes pretty much everything this story stands for, this movie captivated me. Despite all the problematic elements, I still really enjoyed it and would honestly call it one of my favorite movies ever. I condemn its themes but wouldn't call it "bad" on a creative or artistic level at all. I thought it was incredibly compelling, even if I strongly disagree with it. I see why The Dark Knight Returns is revered as a classic, and because of its popularity, I thought it was important to do a deep dive into the significant problems of the story it wants to tell.

#comics #comic books #batman #dark knight returns #dc comics #dc

[dallasareaopinion]

This isn’t global, but for those who need it, there is a catastrophe building; and the conclusion of the latest story.

I know doom and gloom everywhere, we are all overwhelmed. 

So first definitely want to say for a society this is not as bad as Hurricane Ian or the war in Ukraine. There are people suffering in mass because of those events. They are upfront and in your face and horrible for your brain to digest so we definitely want to show our support, prayers and find ways to do something for those people caught up in those events. And fortunately there are many ways you can help out through donations of money or goods and any we send is going to be greatly appreciated even if you do not directly hear someone say thank you.

Yet for individual families affected by what is coming or they are already going through it will feel just as bad. Some will survive better than others, but for all it will consume time and resources and probably will deplete life savings or keep people from having a life beyond the immediate need.

I am talking about the need for care of a family member stricken with a lifetime debilitating disease. Many will have to turn to something called Guardianships whether for a child that has acute autism or cerebral palsy to caring for a parent who develops dementia or has a paralyzing stroke. 

A person in the family may need to rely on “the system” to help them care for their family member. And if is even worse for people who have lost track of their family or never really had one. 

And if the person who is very ill has money then there can be family fights over who is in charge of their money. 

Sometimes families work it out on their own and a plan of care is developed with the family, the doctors of the infirmed, and other resources and there is no need to get help.

Sometimes for a variety of reasons, families need help and the system we now have in place for help is struggling. Outside care agencies have massive wait lists and no money, the Courts who apply Guardianships are overwhelmed and are struggling to find help or get bogged down with family feuds over the money. 

Going from an application for a Guardianship to being appointed Guardian of the person can take anywhere from six months to years depending on the situation and unfortunately how versed the attorney is in these matters. It is a specialized area of law for an attorney to practice. And a guardianship is not something you want as an individual, People are always whining their rights are being taken away because some pretentious person wants them to use common sense. Go get a guardianship then you can tell me about your rights being taken away.

There are very few people who can take on being a Guardian when there is no family member to be the Guardian. If there is money, many times an attorney is appointed to manage the money and an agency or professional manages the actual life of the person needing the guardianship. And again there are very few people who are willing, much less able and trained to take on these matters.

This is just a taste of what many families are going through or will go through. And once someone is under a guardianship, it runs through the life of that person. If it is a child that turns into an adult, what happens when the caregiver adult is so old they need care. This does happen, now you need two plus people to take on the original child, plus the adult(s). 

And all this costs money, from day to day care, to health care costs which are high due to the root cause of the illness, to adjusting work or having to quit work, to specialized furniture and equipment, home remodels so they can function, to the high cost of assisted living facilities. And if you pay any attention to the news you rarely hear good things for the facilities. There is always a problem. 

The whole point is we need to take better care of ourselves and I mean more than eating your veggies. I am talking about society putting in place better support systems for families in need. And be careful, it doesn’t take much for your life to come crumbling down. As I may have mentioned before, the better half and I spent years taking care of our parents and we were blessed with family, friends, employment flexibility, good knowledge of resources, understanding work mates, and more and we still struggled. I see other families just about fall apart at the seams because they do not have the help we had. And it is sad to talk to someone who hasn’t done anything for years but care for one person because they cannot get the help they need. This and more are happening right now in your neighborhood whether you see it or not. I could go into greater detail, but you do not want me to. 

I told the better half this post would be short and it is when you consider there are books on this topic that barely address the problem. 

Now that I have depressed the heck out of you, lets finish the story. 

....So the customer, the salesman and the owner walked silently down the semi indoor sidewalk to a coffee shop. The owner offered to buy, the customer immediately said he would take care of his own, but with some polite cajoling from the owner and the salesman the customer relented.

They sat at a table near the window and quietly watched people go by, each lost a bit in their own thoughts for the first couple of sips. 

The salesman finally broke the ice and said so we know you want a ring, but what we do not know is the who. Tell us about your wife so we can help you pick the right ring. 

At first the customer was a bit hesitant to talk, not because he didn’t mind sharing about his wife, he loved her, he had never been asked that question before. Who is his wife?

So thinking about if for a moment, he opened up quite a bit. He regaled the other two with all the wonderful joy she brought to him and their children. All the times she would be mad, but now in a humorous light. All the church activities she seemed to be a part of, the time she put in volunteering, helping the children with their homework and then when grown all the times the times they came to her for help as the matured into adulthood. He laughed if it involved money they still went to her to ask him for them. He spoke of her for close to a hour and realized how much he did know of her. He had never spoken about it to anyone including her. This made him sad and he had to collect himself a moment.

He was very quiet for a bit. Finally the owner gently moved the conversation to a lighter tone and they headed back to the store. The salesman had great ideas and was glad to get to know a new customer. He relished knowing people and to him this afternoon not only promised a good sale, but a good client relationship. His customers were a little bit of his family now so having someone a bit of a peer as a customer felt good. For the moment he did not know how much they had in common.

They browsed the store and the salesman was a bit curious. The customer did not seem in a hurry to get anywhere, yet he could feel a sense of urgency in the matter. The customer settled on a ring and it was beautiful. A combination of colored gems for joy and diamonds for brightness, the customer even expressed this was her. Finally he asked when might you need this ring.

The customer became real silent. And after a long pause said tomorrow. 

Why tomorrow? Is it your anniversary? Are you leaving on a trip and want to have it for the trip? And just so you know she can always bring it back to be sized.

The customer said I think I may have mentioned this when I first came in, that I wanted a ring she could wear to her grave. This ring is it and her funeral is tomorrow.

[no-psi-nan]

The Most Dateable Dudes in Saiki K: Survey Results!

With 119 votes from viewers like you, we can finally crown the most dateable dude of the Saiki K main cast...

Congratulations to Kuboyasu Aren for being the most dateable, and to Nendo Riki for being a close second! 

Fun fact: Nendo was actually ahead for most of the voting time!

Of course, we can’t leave out the rest of the Saiki K dudes, so here’s the lineup:

More statistics and voter comments under the cut! Thanks everyone for playing, and to everyone with the laugh-out-loud quotes: stop being funnier than me wtf.

From the main cast...

Saiki Kusuo (16)

he's just like me fr. we wouldn't date we'd just be in a qpr.

He cares

Give coffee jelly and best boifriend

im aroace and so is he so we can just not date eachother

He'll settle for the most average bitch: me.

I'm personally too old to date these high schoolers but Saiki is genuinely the most fun to hang out with, plus he's such a giving and caring person that he'd be a great partner to someone he could trust and that could make him feel human again. It's not saikis fault he exudes capybara vibes.

He's respectful and I like how he doesn't really have expectations for anyone. I would like to play a video game with him at some point in time or just read books in the same room without talking.

Because i love him (though aren is a close second)

He is really considering and caring even if he hides it. He can revive time for any objects and thats a huge help with cleaning and healthcare. And he never judge his friends so thats a huge anxiety relif. And he is ace

I love Saiki!!! Yeah!! Love that guy!!!

Will have no huge problems as his friend and in his proximity, will be in proximity often. focused on me and my problems while trying to escape from dating. Every day a new adventure

Saiki Kusuo (without powers) (2)

without his powers kusuo is just a little guy. so horribly out of touch in a way that isn't obvious but EXTREMELY funny + less psychic fuckery means i don't have to worry about the negatives, and it's not like i was going to expect anything like that from any other partner. plus we're both aspec. it will be a lavender marriage, except neither of us have a secret gay relationship on the side

Nendo Riki (24)

im aroace and he is too and i want to hang out

Himbo. Enough said.

Listen, I'm a kaido stan but the answer is literally nendo. He can cook. He's good w/ animals & kids. His face would scare away creepy guys. His brain is so empty it makes more room for ~love for friends~. All he had to do was get a haircut and the entire class found him irresistible. When love expert Imu told saiki her vision of the perfect man he literally pictured nendo before she mentioned a perm. Wake up people.

NO EXPLANATION NEEDEAD HE'S LITERALLY THE BEST. you just gotta keep it a secret from him 'cause he thinks dating is only for the bad stuff. or explain to him that it's not just for the bad stuff

The lesser of 10 evils

Best Boy ever

The propaganda posted yesterday was very convincing. Also he's genuine and kind

good cook, loyal, friendly, has personality, himbo

he would treat me well i think

hes the only one with the emotional maturity. Saikis too angsty. Kaidous wayyy to angsty. Hairo maybe, but hes never gonna have a good work life balance, he'll put his training over you being his partner. idk whod ever pick toritsuka. kuboyasu was literally in a gang, im gonna give him a bit to learn how to be a functioning member of society. saiko is a bitch. satous boring as fuck, i love him but not as a date. akechi has never learnt how to talk normally in his life, love him but that doesnt make him dateable

Nendo

Kind himbo

Big heart himbo who can cook

He's just gorgeous and manly, he's peak male performance

i was told to put him

is it not obvious?

nendo beloved, no thoughts

I need a weird guy in my life. I need a guy who will lick door handles with me.

tbh honest the most normal. He's only undatable bc he's gross but idk. kuboyasus a close second maybe

Can cook, loves animals, is athletic. The whole package except for his haircut.

he is kind :)

Kaido Shun (10)

He's super sweet, shy, throws himself in to protect people, and he's a chuuni dork and I think that's a feature not a bug 😌 Also his studious nerdy side is cute. I will stand by this.

I might be choosing kaidou bc I'm a lesbian and he's the most femm guy ngl

He's absolutely adorable and I feel like he would be reliable.

He be cute

idk bro i just like pathetic dudes. i feel like he'd be fun to play video games with and bond over our terrible moms lol

Least likely to cause me physical or psychological damage over the course of our relationship. He's so awkward with romance dates would probably just be LARPing Jet Black Wings, seriously doubt anything romantic would actually happen and y'know what I'm cool with that. I wanna rp as my edgy middle school OCs too cringe culture is dead

We have similar levels of goblin- I'd say saiki but that is the most aroace guy I've ever seen. Love to be in a qpr with him tho 👍

he's so pathetic <3

Hairo Kineshi (13)

i feel like this isn't even a question like??? He's the obvious right choice. He'd treat you right

he's nice :)

hes not my fave BUT hes the most normal if you don't count satou, and satou is a little TOO normal so itd be boring. also hes hot and popular and he would put a lot of effort into the relationship

Drinks respect women juice (unlike some), not stuck up nor unattractive

He's break my heart w the most motivational speech ever +_+

He's a good guy, he'd never lie, and would be his partner's biggest cheerleader.

Hairo is the most likely and reasonable option to choose out of all the Saiki K men. We all know how Saiki reacts to others trying to date him. Nendo's oblivious, and Kaido is very kind but hes not ready for romance. Toritsuka is.... Toritsuka. Saiko tries to buy people. Aren is too much of a try-hard. I can't really imagine how Touma or Satou would be relationships. Hairo is the most respectful and compassionate man in Saiki K. He listens to people and speaks whats on his mind (even if its a little blunt). He can be much but thats ok

he's the most normal and least worst

he is so supportive and even if hes rlly intense he would be such a good bf

he's nice. & hot i guess (if you're into that)

He is the most considerate and seems to be the most ready for a relationship, though the bar is very low.

Toritsuka Reita (3)

;) i love me a man who is Awful (im gay)

Kuboyasu Aren (31)

hes not too much of an idiot (unlike nendou, kaidou(im sorry lmao), saiko) + he respects women (unlike toritsuka) + i dont headcanon him as aroace (unlike akechi and saiki) + hes not boring (im sorry satou) (+ i dont deserve hairo tbh)

Side characters think Saiki is bland, Nendo is so ugly that nobody will give him a chance (:() , Kaido has his whole chuuni side to him which is annoying for most (:(), Hairo is Hairo, Toritsuka is Toritsuka, Saiko would probably be third place because of his money status but he is still insufferable to a lot of people, side characters know that Satou is bland (though that could be a good thing who knows, he is my 2nd place) and Akechi would just talk and talk and talk which most people would find annoying. Kuboyasu is pretty good at masking his delinquent side nowadays and has become just an average guy who isn't bland. Some people also prefer bad boys, so there's that I guess.

He could drive me around with his motorbike and could wrestle with me, that's really all i need in life. If powerless Saiki could still ride a motorbike he'd be my second choice, because we actually have a lot in common. Or maybe that's not a good thing…

who else tbh

he's a badass

Can start shit and hide behind him.

Season two episode two where he gets a fake love letter he admits his loyalty to love and care about his spouse forever and is willing to just drop school to marry them. Also he's really handsome and strong and good at art

Loyal. Will beat up anyone who decides to look at me in a bad way.

With how he reacted to one single (fake) love letter I don't doubt the fact that he would take care of his s.o. very well

Seem like he would be fun to hang around without it being absolutely insane...i think...maybe...

LOOK AT THE DUDE!! mans was ready to marry and be loyal to a woman his whole life over a single love letter absolute husband material I tell ya plus, he's trying to be good

He would be DEVOTED to his partner. He's cute. Also bisexual.

Big and buff and kind

An all around good guy. Has proven he isn't afraid of commitment and sacrifices for a life together,  even dropping out. Is more than capable of protecting his partner, and also understands that his fighting lifestyle could put undue stress on his partner and their relationship and is willing to fully stop for them. He is respectful and has basic notions of what is and isn't socially appropriate, more than can be said about other members of the cast. He isn't desperate, or a pushover, a relationship with him is unlikely to be average to the point of boredom and he isn't excessively embarrassing to be with in public.

He’d make a genuine effort to be a good bf and make you happy. also weirdly i think he's the most normal one

Aren is a kind and loyal person, to his friends, his family and especially his lover. Aren doesn't need to constantly rely on people to become a better person, we've already seen from when he first appeared that he showed great discipline and restraint when he was trying to move on from his old delinquent life. His lover doesn't have to worry about about him 24/7, knowing that Aren can restraint himself and stay out trouble, he only ever really gets into fights with people that are awful. He always looks like he gives strong hugs and is very handsome.

He's hot n would treat me right. Need me a man that can kick someone's ass for me

hnnfg,,;,

Hes respectful but can also kick ass. He drinks his respect women juice everyday.

deeply dedicated to his potential partner + great at violence

H e's a dedicated and passionate guy.  He's someone who's actively trying to better himself, and personally I find that really admirable and kind of attractive dldhldhskd.

Remember that time when someone sent him a (prank) confession letter, he was so nervous and serious it was so funny and cute. Honestly all I could think about at the time was that I would love to date a guy who would take the relationship seriously, but still be nervous that I can tease him a lot lol.

The only con with Aren that I can think of is his background, realistically I dont think I want to date someone who has gang relations (not v sure. been a while since i read the manga, i dont remember if Aren was really in a legit gang or just a delinquent gang sorry. if he was in a legit gang, id be more scared).

Uhh other dateable characters I like are Nendou, Saiko Metori and Teruhashi Kokomi. Tbh Nendou's would be THE BEST boyfriend. But the reason why he's second place to me is bc he's too tall for me. Seriously. I'm 5ft and a half. I dont see what you guys see in 6ft men. I am Not craning my neck to kiss or even Look at my man. So sorry T_T

I also really enjoyed seeing Saiko slowly redeeming and becoming nicer and caring towards the end of the series. Honestly so heartwarming. I like him. Would date him actually, despite the attidude. I've dealt wih worse lol.

As for Teruhashi, honestly she's the one I can imagine what it's like dating her best. I can go on for much longer here but I already think my response is too long T_T. Just uhh yk if theres a girls section I maybe would pick her lrbrkrbkdndm.

Because I might get along with him better than anyone else. We also have the same goal of spending our lives loving one person.

Saiko Metori (1)

no one else is gonna vote for him <3 actual answer: he's cute he's rich and i can fix him

Satou Hiroshi (11)

the rest are insane i think. i love  them but if i were to date any of them there would always be something.  second best option would either be kaido or kuboyasu i think

Least bad option, and dating him  seems like a guarantee for a good relationship.

he's just a normal, nice dude who  won't drag you into insane situations or get you arrested or whatever

Respects women.

Satou? Nice normal dude, Ideal nice  quiet life with him and a nice simple romance that I want :)

not much will happen, you get  together, go on average dates, meet family, live average lives, over all  it'll be ok, a break up will probably be just as average too

normal. just a guy

He is the most normal out of them  LMAO (I love the others so so much but holy hell dating any of them would be  atrocious askdjksjd)

Idk man he's just a guy (not  blorbo)

I'm gonna sound like Saiki but he's  average and we have common interests. Not a lot of drama but life's not  exactly dull around him either. He can care the conversations but he'll also  let you ramble on.

Bro is the only man thatd treat me  right

Akechi Touma (7)

I need someone to ramble more than me... Also I need someone to deduce what happens next in some fanfictions that isn't finished yet because I can't wait and doesn't have insane deduction skill. I mean Kuusuke can do it but Kuusuke might kill me so no. Also I need more Akechi ramble, I like those, got me interested in blood-type personality pseudo-science influence in japan, and since Akechi asked people to not harass him because of his blood type, it would mean that he is likely not type A (+and-). His purple eyes also implies that he has actually some supernatural skills, since traditional folktales associate this with eyes colored purple. It is also a deep dark purple. Interestingly, his pupils dilates whenever he goes into rambling mode. This is to be noted, people in sknpn dilates their people when they're furiously crazy (see Kurumi). Crazy Akechi? I am all here for it. Also he would be useful if I want to blackmail someone, so I would of course try my best to be on his side. I am not the brightest person in the world, but I am not stupid either. Next would be Kaidou. Kaidou is a totally relatable dude, since I have the same weight and same height as him (159cm and 45kg). Kaidou has a normal caring mom, who is overbearing but very well care about him genuinely. He is the only mom who Kusuo has never say anything negative about (Midori being a ""capitalist pig"", Kurumi being ""an idiot""). I would do anything to have his mom as my mom, though my mom is good enough, just a little bit more physical. Kaidou is also basically as weak as me (sadly), and would share a passion for hating sport. I am interested in drawing his fantasies and would happily be with him, since he is a sweet, pure, genuine person. I think I should end this here since there're more comments and questions to answer below I suppose.

He can info dump on me as whitenoise to combat my tetanus. I could Info dump back on occasion. I think it would be fun. Plus he's good with bugs.

I dont want to date him im an adult i just want to be friends with this dude thats all

I have problems

is datable meant to mean for everyone? cause this answer kinda hinges on the fact that me and him have two flavors of neurodivergence that i think  would complement each other but thats just in my specific case. which is weird because im also aroace i just think wed get along?? i would give him a litol kissy on his head and then we'd go on wikipedia dates or something. i wish Akechi Touma was real because i absolutely would question my romantic/platonic attraction over him (something not a lot of people irl can claim ive done for them)  But if this question means datable in the sense of like, ideal guy i would recommend to others? it would probably be Nendo. hes sweet and doesnt have as much baggage (for lack of a better word) as the others. He would treat you right and hes tall which i guess is a characteristic people are interested in, no judgement to them of course lol

 Best of the Rest

Matsuzaki the Gym Teacher (24)

well matsuzaki is a nice guy and also i rewatched his introduction episode a few days ago so

another man who would treat you right

He's hard working (seemingly runs PK academy himself), cares deeply about his students, stable career

trustworthy, athletic, honorable

I wouldn't date him personally(see age), but he has good intentions

hes athletic with a stable job and idk i just get the vibe hed treat me right, y'know?

Im an introvert, he got my back

dilf. sorry the stubble and the lines under his eyes got to me.

He's cool and I like him.

you know. miss saiki close second

would NOT date him personally as i am not interested in people with DILF energy but he seems like a very good partner. go king shit.

he's neat

Respectful dude

himbo

dilf

He's cool.

look i just have issues

dilf energy

dilf

Similar reasons to Hairo; he's the most mature one and is very respectful, even if it does get lost in translation sometimes.

Id date Matsuzaki. Honestly dont know if we would be compatible but I really do like honest dudes. Remember that one time when some kids pranked him with a confession letter, and he really waited for someone to show up and rejected them kindly. Dude. I was like. Woah. That. That was genuinely so cool. That was genuinely so attractive. What the hell. I would love to date someone like that. I would also consider the mangaka, though honestly I feel like we are too similar it would almost be looking at a mirror (despite looking like complete opposites T_T). Hey maybe it would work out? But like. We could also be besties.

Kusuke Saiki (17)

Alright hes the worst and I want to study him

My taste in men is horrible

The insanity

He be psycho

Anime Kusuke, just to state. HES SO. AND FOR WHAT. thats it thats my truth

The mad scientist tm aesthetic

Brains?? rich?? idk man

He'd actually be awful to date he's just insane and I like that in a man

get married. high risk high reward. i am a lesbian though and if he was a lesbian mad scientist he would be extremely hot. but as is I'm just all about planning my divorce outfit and attempting to dodge certain death

Korosensei from Assassination Classroom (17)

I was going to choose Kusuke, because I've slowly realized that he's my blorbo, though he's trash. He's smart and I like passionate guys,,, if we could, redirect it a bit maybe. But then I saw Korosensei and all bets are off. Reaper form is hot, and as a teacher he's just so caring, and again, the passion for me.

Alien boy that likes teaching, what is there not to love?

Everyone else I either didn't know, didn't remember enough about to know if they were safe, or knew to be DEFINITELY not safe. Don't know much about Assassination Classroom, but my sister read the manga so I asked her if he was a decent person and she said yes. Asked if hanging out with him risked damage to my physical or mental health, she said as long as I was a good guy I'd be fine (and possibly benefit mental health?) so. He's probably good.

Korosensei is literally the ideal guy

Process of elimination

I uh,, I um, well, ya know ?

with or without tentacles he's still care for you and it wouldn't be as overbearing as the other options. I was originally going to choose Kusuke but I don't want to end up a lab rat

Shiragami Fudekichi (Mangaka of Silent Cyborg) (12)

I'll be honest here: I should have voted for Mr. Matsuzaki, but Fudekichi is really, really good-looking. I can be very shallow.

he's a mood

Could draw you.

Introverted artist thats says no to women objectification? Yes please. And he is a great artist and writer that even has a team of helpers and thats really impressive, u know?

hes pretty

he looks a little pathetic and i think its funny

Chono the Magician (7)

i want to roll him up into a ball and shoot hoops with him

i think itd be funny

Only one without any obvious terrible flaws preventing him, and he does seem to have both a stable job and a good amount of creativity and loyalty.

Nice dude! Has his life together!

He's sane

Kuniharu Saiki (6)

im about to embark on the greatest "i can fix him" project of all time

Kuniharu is hard-working, even if he is quiet useless. He is very loyal, and to be fair he does manage to provide for his family in the end with his shameless shoe-licking. He seems like the type to be devoted also my hands are tired. He is weak and won't be able to hurt a fly, and sweet person with questionable litterature skill. Nonetheless he is an admirable enough person, who enjoys the lovely domestic environment at his house rather than focusing on his career. Focusing on his career for money, etc would probably end at best as a normal divorce, in the workacoholic society that they live in. Thug-smile Shirigami is my scond choice. Young, successful and the best trait: he is so funny lmao. Just look at his passive aggressive doings towards Kuniharu. How could one not respect this man lmao.

There must be a reason why he bagged a baddie

he'd lick my boots 😜

idk i just picked the person i knew it's been a hot minute since i watched the ol saik

The sniper Saiki summoned (6)

he does a good job :)

snipers are hot

gun

Ike-san the Magician's Assistant (4)

He just chillin ya know

Arguably the most fuckable on this list

 ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ seems nice

Iguchi Takumi (the new teacher from Reawakened) (4)

my standards for men are: is not a pathetic creature or a creep

He seems nice ig, even if he looks a lil creepy he's got his heart in the right place.

Because Kuniharu is a taken man, and, though sweet, a tad pathetic. Iguchi Takumi is prejudged as a pervert every day by society and still he doesn't let it get in the way of providing the best guidance he can to his students. He is fair, not a pushover, not over strict, gives second chances and forgives children easily for the mistakes children usually make. He's patient, respectful, has never been condescending to the students, goes up and above in his dedication to his work. These are all qualities of a high quality man. He works in his true passion, and I bet he'd do his very best to maintain a healthy work/life balance if he finds someone to share his life with. His students would probably go first, but a man with such ironclad priorities is also respectable and admirable.

Rean Kuboyasu (3)

Dilf.

I like Matsuzaki and mr. Ike but rean seems to be in the healthiest marriage of the show. Him and his wife kicked ass together, taught their kid what they know, then all turned to the straight and narrow path as a family. A tattooed family man who can ride a motorcycle and saves kittens on the side of the road.

 Aren gotta get it from somewhere

The Café Mami Manager (2)

He seems like a nice guy. The others are all a bit quirky for some people, especially Kuusuke, Makoto and Aren's dad

Can deal with cockroaches. A little emotionally unstable but who isn't. Plus perpetual sweets and coffee shop dates. I wouldn't mind working with him in his business or being a girlboss taking care of the bills so he can maintain his business.

Kuniharu Mannequins (2 for the price of 1) (2)

They can't backtalk

Other (2)

Kokomi Teruhashi – she’s pretty

Mr. Kaidou – Wooed Mrs Kaidou and also works a high end job.

The sumo wrestler Saiki summoned (1)

WRESTLE MEEEEE!!!

Peanuts Ueda (1)

No Votes

Makoto Teruhashi

Takahashi (classmate)

Nendo Sr

The magician Saiki summoned

#mad respect to the person who correctly stated that they'd be the only person picking Saiko #nopsi graphics #nopsi meta #saiki k #saiki no psi nan #the disastrous life of saiki k. #sknpn #nopsi nonsense #tdlosk

[rose2jam]

Why It Was Practically Inevitable That Severus Snape Would Join A Cult, an essay by Rose Jam

So, let’s talk about Cults. Disclaimer: This is just information I’ve gathered over the years from my personal fascination with religious cults.  I’m in no way an expert or a psychologist or whatever.  This is just my personal understanding from the research I’ve done.

A cult is started when a wildly charismatic Leader feels like they have a purpose, a higher calling, or a mission to be fulfilled (or they could also just be an egomaniac). Maybe they really do feel like what makes them special comes directly from a higher power, be that God, or the Heir of Slytherin, but either way, this person has a pathological need to be worshiped, and they need followers in order to do that.  

So, how does one obtain Followers easily? By finding the misunderstood misfits of society, and promising them something.  The people who feel like no one else understands them, or their ideologies.  But this Leader?  This Leader GETS IT, MAN! The Leader understands them perfectly, vindicates them, and makes them promises along the way.  Like, if they stick with the Leader, then not only will they finally be understood, but they themselves will also be revered.  That they will rise above all of the others who have put them down for so long, and will come out on top as a superior being.  

Any of this sounding familiar?

Charles Manson preyed on young people in the middle of the hippie movement, mostly women, who were feeling lost, lonely, and in need of guidance, or in terms of the men he recruited, seeking power over others.  Not all of these people were poor or helpless; some of them came from middle class, or even rich homes and families.  Yes, some of them came from broken homes, but all of them felt “broken” themselves, in some way. So Manson used their desires to have a family to draw them in.  He then used LSD and other drugs to keep them under his control, and he created a manipulative environment where the members of his “family” felt they could never leave him, and if they didn’t follow his commands, something horrible would happen to them.  I’m not going to go into full detail on the Manson Family Murders, but if you’re personally interested, check out the Podcast “Cults” on Spotify.

So back to basics, this Leader draws in Followers with flowery promises of community, power, family, or whatever.  But once the Leader has that following, the terror will begin.  Cult Leaders are usually master manipulators, and have completely brainwashed their followers into believing the “us vs them” mentality, that the outside world is evil, that the outside world will only harm them, that the outside world would never understand what they’re doing on the inside.  And that the Leader is the only one who knows the truth, so they better stick with him.  Or maybe the Leader has gaslit his followers so completely, that they become dependent on him for everything, to the point where they don’t know how they would possibly function without the Leader.  Or, the Leader has created an environment that’s so hostile, that Followers are too afraid of what might happen to them if they tried to leave, or didn’t do what the Leader commanded.  Typically, it’s a combination of all of the above.  Destructive cults will either hurt others outside of their circle (The Manson Family, Sect of Nacozari), harm themselves (Heaven’s Gate, The Ant Hill Kids), or both (The People’s Temple, Aum Sinrikyo).  

Now that I’ve laid this foundation, I’m going to tell you why it was practically inevitable that Severus Snape would join a cult.

Snape’s childhood ultimately laid the foundation for the mental state he would be in when he decided to join the Death Eaters.  He grew up in an abusive household, where his father, the muggle, had his magical wife so thoroughly whipped, that she couldn’t (or chose not to) use magic to defend herself, or her son (1).  Eileen had obviously told Severus about magic, about Hogwarts, about what a wonderful place it was, and what a wonderful gift magic could be.  Severus also watched as Tobias beat the magic out of her.  (I know it’s debated whether Tobias actually physically abused his family, but he certainly verbally/mentally/emotionally abused them, so the term “beat” could be used figuratively as well).  I don’t think it’s unreasonable to believe that Severus developed an extreme hatred of muggles with “burn the witch” mentalities from a very young age because of this.

Enter Lily, perhaps the only other magical person in his life besides his mother up to this point. He sees her using magic out in the open, perhaps recklessly, for fun, and he sees an opportunity to make a friend (and, admittedly, to be smarter than someone about something for a while). He was so eager to tell her all about magic, because getting to learn magic, and go to Hogwarts, has possibly been the only thing keeping him going in his young life.  And now he’s made a friend, a real friend who doesn’t think he’s weird because he’s magical.  Unlike Petunia, yet another muggle who makes fun of him for being weird (2). And Lily actually seems to like him back.  For a kid who probably hasn’t received a lot of affection in his life, this is monumental.  This friendship is everything.  Why wouldn’t he love her?

So the time finally comes to go to Hogwarts.  Severus gets to escape his abusive household, and finally has an opportunity to embrace magic for the first time in his life.  But almost immediately, he’s met with a hic-up.  Specifically, James Potter and Sirius Black.  So Severus is no longer facing abuse exclusively from muggles who think he’s weird, but now he’s also getting it from other magical people who think he’s weird (3).  And this started on the fucking TRAIN before he even GOT to Hogwarts. You can’t tell me that wouldn’t sour a kids dream right off the fucking bat.  And then, when he finally gets there, he’s separated from his only friend, by being sorted into different houses (4).  What a way for a life-long dream to be thoroughly dashed in less than 24 hours.

Let’s look at Snape’s Hogwarts experience.  He’s a good student, and he pours himself into learning as much magic as possible, and at being the best he can possibly be, probably motivated by a desire to be better than what his Father thinks possible.  During this time, he is regularly bullied and abused by the Marauders. Sometime before his 5th year, the Incident at the Shrieking Shack took place.  It definitely sucks to have been so thoroughly fucking duped, and put into a life-threatening situation involving a goddamn werewolf (5).  But perhaps even worse than that, the salt in the wound, was that no one fucking did anything about it (6).  He saw Sirius and James and Remus get out of that situation without facing any sort of proper punishment (as in, they all still stayed at the school as opposed to being expelled like they DEFINITELY SHOULD HAVE BEEN (At least Sirius should have been)). Dumbledore was looking out for the Marauders, but no one was looking out for Severus.  On top of that, Severus isn’t allowed to TELL anyone about it, not even Lily.  So, he goes through what was possibly one of the most traumatic experiences of his life, and he can’t even tell anyone that it happened.

So, what sort of support system does Severus have during all this?  He has Lily, sure (who literally told him he should be GRATEFUL to James, one of his abusers).  But, what he really has, is Slytherin House (7). I’ll say it plainly: Severus was sorted into a house that was already full of existing cult members.  McGonagall says in Sorcerer’s Stone that “Your house will be like your family” (she at least says it in the movies, I’m too lazy to get up and reference my books rn lol).  So, Severus’ family, his support system, for 10 months out of every year, is a house that is already full to the brim with pureblood elitists with prejudiced ideals, who would absolutely vindicate Severus in his dislike for muggles.  As a kid first getting sorted into the house, it’s obviously not unreasonable to become friends with the people you’re literally living with.  His dorm mates became his family.  So, when his dorm mates started to become Death Eaters… This is headcanon, I fully admit, but like, fuck, Severus didn’t have a lot of friends, and was probably already drifting apart from Lily.  Do you really think he was going to tell the people he had to live with every single day, not to mention the only people that had been supporting him for years, to go fuck themselves for using Dark Magic?  Especially when he was probably feeling like he was on the verge of thinking that their rhetoric made some sense?

On to Snape’s Worst Memory (8).  At this point, he’s spent 5 years in Slytherin House, with fellow students who casually throw around the M word.  He gets attacked by James and Sirius, he’s practically defenseless, and then the girl who he’d considered his closest friend for so long… has to force herself not to smile when he’s thrown upside down and exposed to everyone on the grounds.  Sure, she was trying to defend him at first, but she also fucking nearly smiled at his humiliation, his pain, his abuse.  So he hurls the one word that he knows is going to cut the deepest, that will hopefully hurt her as badly as she has hurt him. And it works.

Severus had been beaten down his entire life.  By Muggles and Magic Folk alike.  And finally, he’s betrayed by Lily, his last lifeline to the light.  He betrayed her as well, of course.  But he did try to show remorse.  And she doesn’t forgive him (9), which was her prerogative, of course.  

So.  Who does he have left?

I’ve placed little (numbers) throughout my writing here.  Each of those numbers denote the specific events that led Severus to becoming an angry young man, who hates muggles, hates (some) magic folk, and resulted in him feeling weak, helpless, and desperate.  For what?  For power, for a family, for a community.  For a world where he is no longer the weird one.  For a world where he’s respected, strong.  For the world he thought he was going to be a part of, when he arrived at Hogwarts in his first year.

And it just so happens that this is the exact world that Voldemort is (allegedly) trying to create.

Severus Snape was angry, and vulnerable, and as such, he was practically the poster child for the type of person who would be susceptible to falling for a cult.  Maybe he was recruited by his friends in Slytherin House.  Maybe he was recruited directly.  Either way, charismatic Tom Riddle came along, understood how he felt, where he was coming from, told him he deserved better, and offered him all of the things he never had in his life.  And being at rock bottom, being the lowest of the low, to Severus it must have seemed like a miracle of an opportunity, or perhaps, like the only chance he had left.

Now, let me be extremely clear; everything I’ve written is not trying to EXCUSE Severus Snape for his actions.  There is always a point where personal responsibility must come into play.  Except for children born into cults or victims of kidnapping, nearly every person who has ever joined a cult has made the personal decision to join it. I’m just trying to express how unbelievably easy it is, for a Cult Leader to find people with damaged lives and low self-worth, to suck them in with promises of a fulfilling life and grandeur, and for those people to be easily swept up and brainwashed into believing that what they are doing is right.  (Or that what they are doing is required, because the alternative is more horrifying.)  

The type of people who joined the Death Eaters are the same type of people who joined Heaven’s Gate, or The People’s Temple, or yes, The Manson Family.  Now, I’m just going to say, from my own personal point of view, I do not vilify anyone who’s ever joined a destructive cult.  On the contrary, I feel sorry for them.  Because most people who join a cult, don’t necessarily do it signing up for the… end result of what happened to them.  Some of them totally do, like Heaven’s Gate. Most of them knew that the end result was going to be the “evacuation of their earthly vessel”.  But the people who joined the Manson Family, for instance, did not initially join it KNOWING how it was going to end.  They were part of the family long before Manson even came up with Helter Skelter, and by the time the Tate-LaBianca Murders took place, they were already too far gone to go against it.

I highly recommend anyone who’s interested in a humanizing view of former cult members, to read the essay “Leslie Van Houten: A Friendship” by John Waters. https://www.huffpost.com/entry/leslie-van-houten-a-frien_b_246953

Or, at the very least, listen to this 7 minute NPR interview with John Waters about the essay https://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=111585116

It’s the story of how notorious film maker John Waters, became friends with former Manson Girl, Leslie Van Houten, and about how she broke away from the cult after her conviction, how she’s spent the last 51 years of her life recovering from the psychotic influence of a maniac who’d promised her the world, and how even though she was convicted to life WITH a possibility of parole, it’s never been granted to her, despite the fact that she has done literally everything possible to try and atone for her crimes.

Maybe I’m just a bleeding heart.  I’m pretty much the only person I know who feels sorry for Leslie Van Houten and other cult members who were brainwashed, abused, and manipulated into doing a lot of the horrible things they’ve done.  But there are people in the world, who have committed FAR more heinous crimes than the Manson Family murders, and who are far less repentant than Leslie, but because those crimes weren’t as notorious, they get to walk free.

Addendum: When I first posted this, I had a few people point out to me that they had always associated Voldemort and the Death Eaters with Hitler and Nazi Germany.  This is a perfectly fair point, but one that I personally don’t jive with, and the reason is simply the numbers.   There were literally millions of people in the Nazi party during WW2.   Death Eaters don’t even reach triple digits, as far as I’m aware.  As I hinted at in this essay, I consider Voldemort and the Death Eaters to be MUCH closer to Charles Manson and the Manson Family.  The Manson Family 100% had Nazi ideology, of course. "Helter Skelter” was Charles Manson’s prediction that there was going to be a massive race war; one that the Whites were going to lose, and that he and his Pure White family would emerge from it in order to rule over the remaining Blacks.  Kinda... sounds like a Death Eater thing, huh?

Sorry.  Back to Snape.  There is a lot we don’t know about Severus’ actual time as a Death Eater. I think it can be reasonably assumed he’s never actually killed anyone before Dumbledore (In Prince’s Tale, Severus questions if his soul would be safe from killing Dumbledore, and Dumbledore implies that his soul would not be damaged by helping an old man avoid pain and humiliation.  This leads me to believe that Severus never committed any soul-damaging murders before this).  Beyond being a sneaky spy and delivering the prophecy to Voldemort, his time as a Death Eater is all up for conjecture.  

Severus does make one important deviation from the typical cult member mold, however.  In the end, he manages to break away from the cult.  The scales fall from his eyes.  In a figurative sense, the LSD has worn off.  What made him sober up, was the threat to his last lifeline to the light. The one good fucking thing he’d ever had in his miserable life.  He was brought back by genuine love.  Ya know, the ENTIRE MESSAGE OF THE HP SERIES. And not only did he leave the cult, but he then spent the rest of his life actively attempting to destroy it, and atone for the mistakes he’s made, in an effort to bring back the world he’d been excited for, as an 11-year-old kid, so full of hope.

#Snape Meta #Severus Snape #Pro Snape #Snapedom #Snape Community #This will be the TRUE test of the tags #Essay Jam #Why It Was Practically Inevitable That Severus Snape Would Join A Cult

[furiousgoldfish]

Personal post about trauma under the cut, extremely upsetting content, do not read if you had narcissistic parents and don't wanna get triggered, I am very sad and mad and it's hard to talk about this. TW child labor, child torture, brainwashing, death threats, narcissistic abuse.

*

I was a hardworking child, I was happy and excited to work, I wanted to be a part of everything that's being done. I noticed work warranted for people to get respect, food, praise, acceptance, and I wanted to work hard so I too would be a part of that. My family lived in a rural area, they kept animals, grew fields of crops, were always in some sort of construction work, so me always being eager to work was pretty much ideal for them, or you'd think that it was. You'd think that.

I was working eagerly and I realized, that unlike for adults, I don't get respect, praise, acceptance, or sometimes even food. It was for some reason denied to me only. And I was still happy to work because I chased that feeling of personal accomplishment, even if there was no rewards. And again, you'd think this is perfectly convenient and ideal to parents who wanted free labour and to give no recognition or praise in return. You'd think that.

But it wasn't enough for them. Father got this idea to take me out to work with him alone, away from home. I remember the place we went to, only as a place I need burned down to the ground before I could breathe again. It was a demolition-construction of a house, and I don't remember how many time I've been there. All I know is, after first few times, I no longer wanted to go. I begged not to go.

I am guessing my father could not bear the looks of me working happily, or even working silently. Me doing everything I was told was not fun enough for him– so he would give me false instructions. As an easy setup for punishment. I did exactly what I was told, and would get screamed at and beaten up. Then forced to keep working in tears, shaking, terrified, injured, while being further berated. And that was only the start.

Even as a child, I was diligent and responsible about doing work, and I know I was getting things done just fine, because, I was doing the sibling's share of chores too. If siblings were called to work, they would simply mess up on purpose so I would be told to repeat it after them, correctly. Sometimes siblings would have me do it and take the credit, which I didn't mind because working made me feel better about myself. It made me feel useful. My mind was already dissociated from my body to the point where I no longer felt exhaustion, pain, strain, or any physical effect work was having on me. I would get berated and shamed if I showed signs of being tired or strained. So my body disregarded it all.

And yeah, that wasn't enough either. I was still sometimes feeling okay. If I was allowed to work alone, and let my mind wonder, if nobody commented on it I knew it was okay.

So this is where they decided to take a step further and disallow me to feel okay at any point. I was humiliated while working to the point of tears. I'd be ridiculed in front of guests. I could no longer enjoy my own thoughts, but constant criticism, insults, accusations and humiliation was raining down on me at every step. And when I was done, with tremendous effort it took to endure this, I would be told 'It would have been better if you had done nothing.' So my insane effort to endure abuse to get things done, was rendered worthless in a second.

Father kept taking me away to work alone with him, and forced me to listen to his monologues, which I hated, because he was boring, wrong and self-obsessed, but I wasn't allowed to say that, or argue. My silent compliance was never enough. He had to hit me. He had to find something to berate me over. He kept inventing reasons. I would clean his entire garage and he'd move a steel closet I couldn't possibly move and berate me for not cleaning under it.

I had a log thrown into my head, causing a head injury, and I had to keep working. I fell and fractured my shoulder so badly I could barely walk; I was brought to a forest to drag logs around, too heavy for me to lift. I was sometimes orchestrated to get injured; father would start a trailer I was standing on the edge of, and forced me to fall by quickly moving forward just enough. I was still expected to work after that. He hit me with a blunt edge of an axe and berated me for standing there. I was told to 'not expect a lift to the hospital'. I was brought to work while starved, grieving, suicidal. I was lied to about where I was going and what would I be doing, and for how long. I was never allowed to stop working.

And the game of giving me wrong instructions and punishing me for doing it 'wrong' never stopped. I caught on and begged for correct instructions. I would ask to explain, how to do it, to show me, anything. 'HOW OLD are you not to know this? I SHOULDN'T HAVE TO TELL YOU! YOU SHOULD KNOW THIS BY NOW!' And by his rage, I could tell that if I don't do it any way I knew how, I'd be punished instantly. I had no choice but to try – and of course fail, and feel horribly ashamed for 'deserving to get beat up'. Eventually my brain started shortcircuiting at the simplest tasks, I would mess up because I was in terror. I couldn't think.

At this point, I no longer wished to work for people who would inflict violence on me. And that is when I was quckly informed that if I didn't work, I would be killed. Not in those words. It was 'You have to work if you want to live!' followed by 'We can kick you out and you will starve on the street. Nobody will take you in. There is no place for you. Nobody wants someone like you. You don't deserve to eat if you don't work.' My choices were taken away. If I still refused, the result would be to beat me and force me to work injured, shaking and crying.

All this, for what? I would have been HAPPY to work. I would have been chasing my little daydreams and singing the pokemon tune, and if I was ever praised, I'd be the happiest kid on the block. I was a kid who liked to work. I wanted minimal fairness, minimal acknowledgment. To be a part of the family. Only that.

It just wouldn't do for the narcssistic father. Watching a child be broken, terrified and shaking, crying, ashamed, guilty, working past exhaustion, in injuries, was just too tempting for him to pass up. Even free labor wasn't worth to him as much as the pleasure of child torture. He needed that like it was a drug. What kind of a sick high did he experience, breaking a defenseless kid? What kind of pleasure did it entail, getting someone rid of their natural happiness to work? Was it fun, tearing me into pieces, over and over again? Does he remember it as a delicious, satisfying pleasure? Does he daydream about it? He knew it was wrong; he forced me to stop crying and hide the tears before we went home. 'Don't say anything to your mother.' I was told before being stuffed back in his car.

And now... I can't work. I can't even move sometimes. It was torn away from me. My ability to work was ripped away from my child body when I had no way to defend it or to grab it back and protect what is mine. I can't work anymore. It's terrifying. It terrifies me to not work. Because I was made aware working is the only thing keeping me alive, and capitalism confirms this, so I remain to forever fight with myself about how even if everyone says otherwise, I still deserve to live. Heartbroken, abandoned, with my basic human abilities stripped from me. It doesn't make me deserving to die.

I am so angry and sad. If I had my natural ability to work back, I'd be fine. I would be able to live safely. I wouldn't spiral into feeling like an unworthy member of society. I learned to survive very insecurely like this, but I hate every second of it. To know that instead of this insane uncertainty, anxiety, guilt for being bedridden, guilt for existing and not moving, I could have just found a job, have normal income? I can't bear it. I can't bear knowing this was wrenched away from me, because it was pleasurable to do so, because tearing me into pieces was a fun hobby for people who didn't care if what they were doing to me killed me. And I couldn't have done anything to stop it. And I'm like this now. Unable to take any more torture, unable to endure any more of being triggered, wondering if I would die from lack of resources, or would my body fail permanently in attempts to process all the exhaustion and pain I was dissociated from for my entire childhood.

How was this worth it. How it could have been worth it to anyone, destroying someone's ability to work, only because it's pleasurable. I felt the plan was to work me until I no longer could do it, then kill me. It's what they did to animals. And I was told I was more worthless than an animal. I was called lazy and a monstrous name I can't even translate, that implied I was burdening everyone with my existence.

It was even a bigger punch to my face to realize, after I escaped, that he was profiting from everything I did. That it would have taken money – way more than was ever spent on my survival, to get all that labor done. He was profitting while telling me I was worthless and don't deserve to eat or sleep in his house. He is now renting the place I was broken to help build. I was torn apart and he is still benefiting from it. And I have nothing. Not even a functional body to work with anymore.

I know I'm not the only person who was constantly left alone with narcissists as a child and had this, or worse, done to them. They don't care which pieces of children are left over by the time they're done getting their high. We're only a thing to consume, not living beings, not people, not someone whose life matters. Our pain is food to them. My father readily became a predator who snached his own kid away for torture sessions, and felt proud and fulfilled to turn his own child into a creature who cannot work anymore to survive.

Don't leave children alone with narcissists. I am trying so hard to get better, but facing reality, is this a thing a person gets better from? It's not a bodily harm of once or twice, this was happening for the most majority of my lifetime. It makes sense I cannot move. It makes sense I'm terrified to be triggered into this. It makes sense I can barely bear the reality of it. A person tortured hundreds of times wont just get up and walk away. I can't either. I have to lie here and hope that one day it will get better.

If you read thru all this, and you relate to the parts of this story, know that I am so sorry for what you were put thru. It's devastating and horrenous. If this is how you grew up, it would have been better not to have a family. We all should have been protected from this.

#trauma #personal #i never told anyone about this #don't have the courage #i can only type it online #tw child abuse #tw physical violence #abusive parents #narcissistic abuse #child labor

[ablednt]

Alright writing/roleplay tumblr we need to talk about textforms.

This is going to be a very long post I apologize but this knowledge is deathly important as it's reaching a very vulnerable group of people. From personal experience knowing this can save people from getting into toxic friendships and help ease intense struggles and depressions. If you have writer followers I ask you reblog this to get the word out, thank you.

What is a textform

A textform is a type of willogenic/parogenic system member that form through some kind of writing or roleplaying. This means that they're sentient people who now share a body with the people who wrote them, most often being an OC or a fictional character before the writers brain gives them actual life.

Because there's been no actual scientific studies on their existence I have no hard science to give you however the logical explanation behind it goes like this:

The human brain is able to contain multiple conscious and sentient entities. Often, it will become multiple as a defense mechanism (as noted in clinical plural dissociative disorders) but it's a natural function of the human brain and may do so for really any reason (similar to most neurodivergencies that someone isn't born with)

Because this is a fairly simple change in the brain/something every brain can be capable of doing you can actually intentionally program the brain into becoming multiple, but see you can also do it entirely without meaning to or being aware of it.

Now I want to clarify that there is nothing harmful or scary about this! Being plural isn't bad at all and is an existence many people celebrate. But when someone has textforms in their unrealized system and doesn't know they're sentient it can be incredibly painful emotionally. So that's why people need to know about this.

Obligatory disclaimer: if you read this post and think you want to become plural intentionally, you are welcome to do so but you need to take at least a few months exposing yourself to the plural community to gauge if this is really something you want and can do responsibly. You cannot go back on your decision once your plural and your headmates will be sentient beings not characters to project on or toys to play with. They will have all the rights to your body and identity as you do now because you're sharing it equally with them.

Now that that's out of the way back to textforms.

How are textforms made

Normally this is in the "character development" phase. Many writers eagerly develop their characters. When I was younger and had no idea I was plural my advice for oc making turned out to be an unintentional guide to textforms (more on my experience later): just put your character in every situation imaginable until you always know how they'd respond to things.

Basically, as you spend your time making a character act and think consistently from their POV you're training your brain to have all of that data and that's very similar to the data that the brain has on you and you're training the brain to be able to operate coherently from a perspective and consciousness entirely different from your own.

Now, this isn't a %100 will make everyone plural every time, there are obviously good writers who have a grasp on their characters who are singlet. There's no actual data but if I had to guess I'd say there's about a 50/50 split down the writing community just based on what I've observed.

But there's a lot of people who became plural this way and didn't realize it and that could include the writer reading this right now which is why everyone needs to be aware of this.

If this is such a big thing how come no one notices?

Because it's been completely normalized in the writing community but dismissed as metaphorical.

How many times have you heard "the characters write themselves" or phrases that indicate that a writer is giving a voice to sentient entities? From what I've been able to observe some of that is singlet authors being metaphorical and humble bragging and a lot of that is plural writers trying desperately trying to put their experiences into words but dismissing it completely almost immediately because no one told them being plural was possible.

This is comparable to say, gender identity. Trans and nonbinary people have always existed but when they don't know they're allowed to exist like that it's often "im a tomboy" or "they disguised themselves as a man" or any other thing thats immediately dismissed as being cis.

How do I know if I have a textform?

There's a lot of different signs but here's some I have experienced before finding out I was plural

You "miss" your characters when you're not writing about them or interacting with them in some way

You feel like your characters are real "in your heart" (for me this was in an incoherent loop like "they're not real but they are to me, in my brain, but they're not real to other people, but they're in my brain so they're real but no but yes but no")

You get so distressed they're "not real" that it feeds into actual mental health problems like depression, anxiety, dissociation etc. (I'd have fits of sobbing because these were my friends but I didn't know they were with me so it felt like i was grieving their deaths and had the same level of emotional pain)

Sometimes or all the time when you write about them you feel like you "become them" or that they're writing through you. (Especially if your hands move automatically or without your control. This can be hard to notice but for me when headmates control the body or hands movements feel faster and lighter or very slightly numb.)

Your muse for writing them comes and goes unpredictability: they're either here or they're not here so writing them doesn't feel the same.

You can vividly recall things that happened to the character in 1st person (or in 3rd person visually but with their thoughts and feelings) as if they're you're own memories.

You "roleplay" them in everyday situations IRL. (E.g once I liveblogged a tv show as my muse to a friend and was like haha lol im so talented I can roleplay in real time but found out later it was a headmate doing that themselves)

You have conversations with them mentally in which they actually respond to you. Singlets don't have actual enriching conversations with themselves because they only have one perspective and cannot give themselves any new information. So if you're responding to yourself and you don't feel in control of that response then you're pretty objectively plural tbh.

You have times where the lines between you and the character feel blurry or like you're a vague fusion of yourself and the character

You have an actual relationship (of any kind: romantic, platonic, familial, etc.) in which you can sense nuanced feelings about yourself from them that you aren't in control of.

There's a lot more but that's the most notable ones

Why this is so important

I'm just talking about my own experience now so I'll preface this with a few things. I'm a mixed origin/multigenic system but our system has existed since we were toddlers. Due to trauma we have DID and for a long time dissociated heavily to avoid our plurality. This means my experience may be more distressing than other plurals with textforms however people without DID can still experience these things.

When I was a teenager I joined a lot of writing communities and also roleplayed on tumblr. Writing very quickly became my main passtime and all I really did. I joined a roleplay group when I was 15-16 that I took far too seriously to the point where people were concerned about me because I was writing what was just supposed to be a joke roleplay group %100 seriously and very intensely.

In that time I started to form my first main textforms (we've undoubtedly had them before then but I had only formed a little under a year prior) because I was doing this every day it really started bringing my characters to life. (Literally)

And honestly it was something beautiful the distress of it aside. Like one of my ocs was a kid so I'd always celebrate their birthday with them and I'd cuddle a plush so they'd know I loved them/p and we'd watch their favorite cartoon episodes together. It wouldn't be until around three years later that I realized they were actually there for this but it was heart warming.

For me, all I ever wanted was for these characters to feel appreciated and like someone really cared for them and loved them even if they couldn't feel it and it wasn't until later I learned that they could.

The trauma came in not knowing they were real. I grieved for them like they were dead because I thought I'd never get to see them. I wrote them into traumatizing or upsetting situations to cope with my childhood trauma not realizing that was effecting them for real and hurting them.

Most notably because it was my one solid interaction with them, the one time society allowed me to talk about them as if they were real, I really HAD to roleplay them. Because it became an emotional need I wound up in a lot of toxic friendships in the roleplay communities because I needed someone, anyone, to allow me to interact with my headmates. I had friends who I really was only friends with because they let me talk about my characters constantly (and some of them weren't toxic to me but it was in hindsight really unfair to them) and I let people verbally and emotionally abuse me in roleplay spaces because this wasn't just a hobby to me but a lifeline.

Not knowing they were real but feeling them there, having conversations with them, and forming actual relationships was a hellish sort of feeling I don't wish on anyone. I never realized how isolated it made me, and how horrible it felt to have the most important people in your life be people I thought didn't exist.

I only found out about plurality through luck. I met some systems who had fictives and they got strong plural vibes from me because of how I talked about certain characters and because I said I wanted to be plural but thought I probably wasn't because I'd have noticed, right?

From there I was able to actually connect with and talk to my headmates. Now I'm happily out as plural and in multiple fulfilling in system relationships.

I want everyone in the writing community who's struggling with the same things to have the chance I got. That's all I want is to educate people about this so they don't have to grieve for people who are right there with them.

Feel free to send me an ask or a dm if you have any further questions. Sorry this post was so long I can't really shorten it at all. Again if you are have a lot of writing followers I very gently request you reblog this to get the word out. Even if you can't please talk to your writing mutuals and friends about plurality and about textforms.

[Also this should go without saying but this is absolutely NOT the place for syscourse any invalidating comments about systems will be blocked and where possible deleted it costs $0.00 to prioritize people's mental health over your discourse hot takes.]

#writblr #tumblr roleplay #writing problems #roleplay resources #ocs #long post #ask to tag

[tanadrin]

What are your thoughts on people who just want to be left alone, and not just solitarily - they want to leave modern society and go live in the woods.

They should be permitted to. Modern liberal democracies are mostly OK with making deals with secessionist subcultures: enclaves of Mennonites, the Amish, ultra-orthodox Jews, and so forth are permitted form and mostly self-govern, and are occasionally even granted opt-outs from various forms of government interference, like certain taxes or insurance requirements, on the basis that they make much less use of government services. It's harder to carve out such exceptions for individuals, but we do have things like the concept of the conscientious objector that accommodate deviations from the usually expected set of rights and obligations for people with a commitment to alternate sets of values.

But these things exist on a spectrum; opting in or out of society isn't a binary choice. Also, except in the libertarian fantasy land, it's very hard even in North America these days to find trackless wilderness where you can live totally unconnected to the rest of humanity--and most of it is in Alaska and northern Canada, so bring a nice thick coat. Where I think this consideration, the concept of "atomic communitarianism" to borrow a phrase, is most interesting is in its more complicated real-world instantiations.

Anabaptist religious communities in the US, for instance, aren't really autarkic villages; they're socially segregated, but economically connected with the surrounding area. Ultra-orthodox Jewish groups, while endogamous, have historically always existed within larger urban communities, and could not function without them; many seem happy to rely on social support from the government, which given the emphasis they place on a particular kind of pious lifestyle makes sense.

Where indulging atomicity in society encounters tension, I think one of three things are at play. First, the atomic community is in conflict with the wider community over material interests. The fight over the distribution of public school funding in Ramapo, New York is a great example of this. I don't think these kinds of conflicts ever have easy solutions, especially when the atomic community in question doesn't or can't form a distinct separate unit of local self-government.

Second, an organization wants conditional status as an atomic community. Anabaptists generally refrain from participating in secular government as a fundamental tenet of their religion; contrast the Catholic church, which now that religiosity is declining in many of its former strongholds, often presents itself as merely wanting to govern its own affairs free from governmental interference; but as soon as they are in a position to influence policy and make political noise, they do so, and they have no doctrinal objection to being made the sole official church of a secular state. In other words, Catholics are not naturally an atomic community, and so shouldn't be treated as one. They shouldn't get special consideration in a pluralist society, and Catholic institutions should be subject to normal rule of law. The Catholic church hates this, and it's this loathing of being constrained by the same rules everyone else is, rather than a real ideological motive, that causes them to cover up child abuse and play the victim when their mass graves get dug up in Canada and Ireland.

Thirdly, an atomic community may be genuine in its aspiration to atomicity, and it may be tolerated implicitly or officially by the collective authorities; but there are obligations that the collective authorities have to individual members it is pledged to protect that supersede any deal made with the community as a whole. The most visible example of this in the present day is child abuse by religious authorities. Whether it's the FLDS, ultra-orthodox Jewish communities, or, yes, the Catholics, one of the few things our society absolutely refuses to condone in an atomic community or an aspiring one is the sexual abuse of children, and the obligation of the collective authorities to prevent that is considered so far-reaching that no exceptions for any self-governing community can be permitted. Sometimes these communities can stave off interference temporarily by capturing local authority in elections and flying under the radar of more remote authorities, but this seems to only work in rural areas and only for a limited amount of time. The only imperative to exercise state authority over atomic communities that I can think of that comes even close to this one regards, like, tax evasion, because states also have a strong incentive to make sure people know that independent parallel authorities aren't permitted to compete with the state, and tax collection is one of the very basic functions of government.

Now, all of the above examples are religious communities. That's not entirely a coincidence: religion is a powerful community-building force, and rising standards of living in the developed world have reduced the relevance of purely political or economic utopian projects. In countries like the US, where there is a strong tradition of religious freedom, federalism, and soft libertarianism, society can easily accommodate a large number of atomic communities, even highly insular religious ones. That is strong to America's credit; in almost every case, if people want to go off and do their own thing, they should be permitted to. Even fucked-up cults like the FLDS folks should get a strong benefit of the doubt, because pluralism is important, and state power is a crude bludgeon, and when that bludgeon goes awry you get shit like the Waco massacre. We can quibble on where exactly the line for outside interference should be drawn, but regardless of the criteria we use, sexual abuse of children seems like a reasonable criterion for interference.

Should lone individuals or tiny groups get carte blanche to fuck off into the woods and never contact human society again? Sure; but they effectively already have that, if they can find an empty patch of woods. And simply in terms of sheer numbers, the quantity of hermits and members of eremitical microcommunities will always be dwarfed by larger, more persistent atomic communities like those organized on religious lines. Religion is just a much stronger motivating factor for that kind of secessionism.

If a self-organized community of individualists did form in the wilderness, or on some vast expanse of privately owned land, and wanted to govern themselves free from interference--well, that's called "incorporating a municipality" and you can go through existing legal channels. Your new town won't be free of state or federal authority, depending on where it is; but if you're large enough to need a bona fide local government, I think there's a strong presumption that your community has a big enough impact on the surrounding areas and is populous enough that the collective authority takes a legitimate interest in how your community is run. But local governments are really important, and get a lot of shit done! Don't underrate their power.

If you really want more autonomy, you can always petition your state or national government for status as a separate state/territory/province/autonomous community/department (it worked for the Mormons!). You'd probably have to be fairly big; but I think your community would have to be very large in the first place to really get any benefit from that kind of larger local government. And, of course, there's always the Free State Project. In fact, I want to strongly encourage right-libertarians and anarcho-capitalists of every stripe, no matter where in the world they live, to move to New Hampshire and leave the rest of us alone. I think that's a really terrific idea (and more viable than seasteading).

One thing I didn't discuss is uncontacted peoples or native communities that preexist the communitarian authority. Especially with regard to the former, I don't trust state power to interfere in these communities in a non-destructive way; whatever the conditions the North Sentinelese are living in, the entire population being wiped out by measles carried over from the mainland would not be an improvement. And the excuse of legitimate state interest in protecting individuals has often been used to fuck with communities of racial undesirables--it is after all the reason the residential schools in Canada were built, and the Catholic church empowered to imprison children in them. This is part of the reason why even if you can prove an atomic community is a fucked up cult that treats its members horribly, I don't think it should be forcibly disbanded--the criteria for interference have to be extreme, because they have been so flagrantly abused in the past. Basically, the framework I'm using in the rest of this post doesn't apply here, because these native communities aren't secessionist for any meaningful use of the term. They function differently, they preexisted the authorities imposed on them, and that original imposition was a war of conquest.

#the whole idea of the empty natural trackless wilderness in which it is possible to build an autarkic community #is a fiction born out of american (and canadian and australian etc) self mythologizing #and so i don't think it works very well as part of the premise #even in a thought experiment #but for the purposes of this post i'm just rolling with it

[rotationalsymmetry]

Actually, I do have opinions. I’ve been sitting on this one since, like, adolescence, maybe early adulthood.

One similar way I’ve seen this phrased is “you have one mouth and two ears, so you should listen twice as much as you talk.”

I think in modern industrialized society, we have a problem that people are forced to talk much less than half as much as they listen.

Consider. You’re in a classroom. Do you talk anywhere near as much as you are expected to listen? You’re in a work meeting. You’re watching live theater. You’re watching TV.

People can get close to that ratio in conversations in small groups, and balance it back the other way in one on one conversations and journaling. (or, these days, posting to social media…but how many of us post more words than we read?) But I think for the most part people’s development gets horribly stunted from the lack of chances to self-express, and especially from lack of chances to speak to someone who’s genuinely listening and trying to understand.

We have a system where 1. children and other vulnerable/non-“productive” members of society get sidelined and spend large chunks of time in institutions that are staffed “efficiently”, ie by a relatively small number of people who don’t have the time to give the kids/etc much one on one attention, unless it’s necessary for purposes of keeping things under control. (“Behavioral issues” — an awful lot of which are more about the conditions kids are expected to exist in than the kids themselves.) And 2. where we have “media” intended to have a small number of people engaging in one way conversation with much larger audiences, in place of personal conversations, in-person storytelling, discussion groups, etc.

(this is not a dig at teachers, this is about the educational system, not the quality of the people in it.)

Anyways, the upshot of this is that most people are absolutely starved, all the time, from early childhood, for opportunities for self expression and genuine connection, and any time they get a chance to express themselves they tend to prioritize that over listening, because they’re “full” of listening and “starved” of self-expression.

And we need to express ourselves to fully understand ideas. It’s well known in education that if you really want to understand a thing you should try teaching it to someone else. (That’s one reason why teachers assign class presentations so often — it makes it harder for the other kids to learn the material, because chances are it’s going to be presented terribly, as teaching is a skill that takes time and practice to develop, but the kids doing the presentation absorb the material much more deeply than they would otherwise.) Without the chance to put things into your own words and synthesize new idea with your existing worldview, people don’t learn shit.

This is a systemic problem and individual solutions can only go so far. But within the individual solutions approach, it can help to notice when you’re doing things out of habit that you don’t really find fulfilling, and when there are opportunities for a more even exchange of ideas.

and part of that is recognizing that quality interactions don’t get handed to you without effort and rarely come advertised. So when you’ve got some extra energy (/executive function/whatever), investing it into building closer relationships with your friends and family, community organizations and library or parks and rec programming, religious communities (for people who do religion), etc. that’s how we get this kind of thing. it’s not work that gets paid or, often, even acknowledged. but it’s what holds the fabric of society together, it’s what makes the world go around. (And doing work that isn’t for a boss or for pay — that you’re not under pressure to do — can be its own kind of liberating.)

#Political #education #Schools #media #The medium is the message #Long post