#i do not know how to articulate how i feel into words

[morealias]

""lying is wrong" what evangelical nonsense is this???"

It's not evangelical. It's parental and societal. If you cannot be trusted to speak truthfully, you cannot be trusted to speak truthfully.

Children (in general) do not have the capacity for complex moral codes. Something is either wrong, or it is right for young children. As children grow up they will encounter instances where adults lie, hopefully they'll have a discussion with their parents that leads a more nuanced moral code, a greater understanding of where flexibility of speech and being truthful intersects.

I posit that it is never "good" to lie. It can be morally neutral in totality of the act. Deceiving someone can serve the Greater Good - "but whose greater good?" is always the question to ask here.

Lying is never a 'good' thing, however, if it serves a good purpose, a necessary purpose (survival), do not hesitate. To anyone saying "But that's good!" No, lying is never good. Ask yourself, which is better, to live in a world where you never have to lie, or to live in one where you must? If that doesn't show you that lying is not "good" but rather is necessary to avoid worse outcomes, then I cannot help you.

"sometimes it accomplishes a goal"

If you are lying it should always be in service of a goal. If you're lying just to lie… that is wrong.

If you're lying when it's meaningless to test your ability to lie, that is in service of a goal, "testing to see if I can lie".

"sometimes the truth is nobody's business, or is tricky to articulate, or you don't know what the truth is but are expected to have an answer regardless."

Then just say that. "It's none of your business", "that's hard to put into words/it's complicated, give me [TIME UNITS] to figure out how best/simply to say it", "I don't know, but I can find out for you".

If you don't feel safe speaking the actual truth, then of course lie.

"However, it is also still a useful social tool, and of course it’s part of the tool kit that you used to create stories. If you can’t lie, how can you write or tell a good story?"

I put forth that storytelling* is not lying. You are not decieving someone else, you are sharing a fiction. Maybe this is some small autistic line I refuse to cross or some weird ethical flexibility that serves me, but it's my line and my flexibility. Maybe it's even my lie. * By which I mean you and your audience understand your just 'telling a story". There may be truth in it, but the story is a story, facts are changed, obscured, elements of the story are whole cloth, if not all of it. This is the understanding between storyteller and audience. If the audience isn't made aware of this†, at least at someone point, it is lying and likely dangerous.

† See 1938 War of the Worlds radio broadcast. Yes the public was made aware of the broadcast just being a story, and thankfully no one lost thier life over it, but the radio station apologized for good reason. The panic was also not anywhere near as widespread or as terrible as the news media reporting on it made it out to be, or as CBS or ORson Wells played it up to enhance their legend.

A lesson for modern times about how the news sensationalizes things eh?

"Which is kind of a dark art."

Manipulating people into believing something that "never happened", something that is not true, is not "kind of a dark art", it is completely dark. Even if it's for the Greater Good.

"lying is wrong" what evangelical nonsense is this???

[megacarapa]

i genuinely dont know if i can articulate how much i love the line from the dracula epilogue thats like "jack and arthur are both happily married" and how a bulk of the fandom decided en masse that it would be super epic to purposefully misinterpret it to mean that they are married to EACH OTHER

if you dont know about re:creators its an anime where fictional characters are transported to the real world and meet their creators. ive only watched the first few episodes and that was years ago so i dont remember all the details, but early on theres an arc where one of the fictional characters tries to get fire powers by having their creator just write it into their character summary, but it doesnt work, and later they realize that they can gain different abilities irl only if these abilities are something that is accepted by the FANS of the media to be part of that character. the way the fandom sees the character has more impact on their real world self than actual word of god

this is something that keeps popping into my head with the jack and arthur thing. so much of the epilogue fanart shows them together. like this is 100% NOT what bram stoker intended by that line but its so broadly accepted by the fandom that it might as well be canon. and i feel so crazzzyyyyy about it like DO YOU UNDERSTAND

[lunarflux]

x: Thomas Shelby found his match in an information bookie who has eluded the grasp of the Peaky Blinders long enough to crumble their power over Birmingham. But at last, he found you. The ghost he'd been chasing was finally in front of him, but you were trickier than he expected. Dangerous, cunning - and a bit too much like himself. To buy your loyalty, he would have to sell his in equal measure. Loyalty for loyalty - blood for blood - how much were either of you willing to spill before the game changed entirely?

part 1: the new board

word count: 1,412

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"What do you want?"

"You're the one who came here, Mr. Shelby. I believe I should be the one asking that question."

It was odd, being seated across from a mirror. Whoever you were, you wouldn't budge. A cigarette dangled from two dainty fingers, wisps of smoke swirling into the air between you.

Tommy didn't know who you were. The Emerald of London to some. The Ghost of Birmingham to others. Your real name never crossed anyone's lips. You were practically a phantom - a meddlesome one at that. Some of the usual gamblers started avoiding certain days, ones that were particularly important to the Blinders, and by the third race with meager winnings, he knew.

There was a new player in the game, and until they were wiped clean from the board, the uneasy feeling that made home in the pit of his stomach would not go away. Gun deals gone awry, exchanges with people he thought would always owe him - all of it was going sour.

It took weeks of dwindling business before Tommy told Finn to find you. What he expected to see - a new information bookie operating from a damp, abandoned warehouse - was anything but. No, you were cunning. Charming, even. You had a certain allure about you. Your face held little expression aside from what could only be described as deceitfully cold, only ever showing the briefest emotion in your eyes. And when you spoke, it was intertwined with a feline-esque hum - almost like every conversation someone tried to work from you was a waste of your time. Finn only said that when he found you in the old bookshop across town that something was off, and though he couldn't articulate what made him uneasy, he knew that you would not easily be burned from the streets of Birmingham.

Tommy sat across from you, his still face hiding the mild headache your presence brought to the front of his mind, and he waited. At first, you two waited in silence.

You sighed, tapping the ash from your cigarette down to the floor. "Very well then. What business do you have here?"

"You've been selling information to the Russians."

"I have."

"What do they have on you?"

The corner of your lip twitched into a grin. "And what makes you think they have something on me?"

Tommy bore his eyes into yours, not willing to admit that this was one of a few conclusions he made about your motives. "What are they paying you then," he said plainly, less of a question and more of an anticipatory retort.

You tilted your hand out, motioning to the air to allude how silly the accusation was. "They pay whatever they think what I have to give them is worth."

"And the Irish, they pay as well."

"The Russians pay, the Irish pay... The Italians pay, the politicians pay... The Blinders can pay, too, if that's where this conversation is going."

You were woven into the system more than he thought - more than any of them thought. It was only whatever you sold that involved them that led him to believe you had a personal stake against them. It seemed now that this wasn't the case. They were just one of the last to find you.

"So, you'll resort to extortion to keep you out of our business."

"People don't pay me to stop, Mr. Shelby. They pay me to keep playing. It'd be bad for business otherwise. Take me out of the picture with the drop of some coins, and my credibility goes out the window."

Tommy hoped that his silence would push you to reveal more, but you continuously proved him wrong. He had to keep asking questions. It was what you wanted. You wanted him to pry as far as his cold composure would allow him to.

"So, where do your loyalties lie then?"

"I have no loyalties," you said, feigning confusion at the notion. "That's what makes me good at what I do."

"What is your loyalty worth then?"

"That's not how this works, Mr. Shelby. If the information someone else buys is at the expense of the Peaky Blinders, I'm afraid you'll find no sympathy from me."

Silence. Just a few more seconds, and maybe your curiosity would peak.

Again, you sighed, not attempting to hide your boredom. "Fine. Humor me. What are you offering?"

"Protection."

"I don't need protection."

"If I could find you, then there's nothing stopping the rest of them from finding you."

"On the contrary, if they wanted to kill me, I'd already be dead."

You knew you were valuable - more than Tommy cared to admit. Your awareness of the situation was your advantage, and it was a benefit not afforded easily. He had to offer you something worth considerably more, and it was not something he could give freely. However, he would not be the one to offer it up. You needed to ask for it, only then would he know what actually mattered to you.

Tommy kept his gaze on you. "Name your price then."

"I have to know what you're trying to purchase before I can tell you what it's worth." You wanted something more. Not something tangible. Money was so easily spent. "Tell me then, what is it you want from me?"

Tommy's eyes narrowed in the slightest to study your face. The cold, icy wall behind your eyes revealed so little. At the mention of payment, you were amused. At the thought of taking sides, you found humor. No, you were alone, and that's how you wanted it. So, what would be more valuable to you, something that didn't cost something physical? The answer came to him slowly, like a the sunrise peaking over the city until it blinded him completely.

"Your loyalty," he finally answered.

Your true smile - the one that only surfaced in the face of something that truly interested you - was more unsettling than he cared to admit. But he knew. Your loyalty would cost him dearly, whether it be from his pocket or something much deeper.

"You want to buy my loyalty?" You chuckled, a low and sinister tone like the monster beneath your grin was daring to reveal itself. "No, my loyalty stays with me, and I would only sell it for -"

"My loyalty."

The words slipped past his lips before he even really knew what he was saying. This had to have been what you were goading him for. An equal share of his respect. He would not have you entangling yourself with the Peaky Blinders with the assumption of your loyalty alone. You had to trust him as much as he forced himself to trust you.

You leaned forward, close enough for him to feel the icy shards trying to reach him from your leer. "And what is your loyalty worth?"

He was at a crossroads. Protection had a price, and people paid it. But loyalty - that was something else entirely. How much did he want you on their side that he was willing to give himself in equal measure? Your dealings with his enemies said enough. You had a pull over every corner of the city, and the longer you remained a black widow on the outskirts of all the chaos that followed, the closer the walls enclosed around him. He hated to admit it, but he needed you. He needed you on their side.

At least long enough to make sure you were hooked without expecting more than he was capable of giving.

You sat back and took a long drag of your cigarette, blowing the smoke out towards the ceiling. The phantom of that smile lingered at the corner of your lips, almost like you were amused - satisfied, even - that he was willing to offer up something with a value only you could determine. It was only a matter of time before you came to your own conclusions about what his loyalty was truly worth to you.

"I appreciate the consideration, Mr. Shelby." The phantom smile lowered until the cold façade reclaimed your face. "I will consider your offer."

Tommy rose slowly and placed his cap back on his head. His jaw tightened as he chose his next words carefully. "The Garrison. After close. Meet me there if we have a deal."

You lifted your chin with a nod. The conversation was far from over, but the new board has been set. Now, he just had to wait.

[nimblelizard]

i am UNWELL about this man

[jade-of-mourning]

sorry sometimes i think about mako and my heart hurts so much. this kid raised himself and his brother on the streets in homelessness and utter poverty from eight through fifteen, promptly after seeing the violent death of his mother and father. he turned to the triple threats because they couldn't survive as a pair of wretched kids without any adult support, and the environment forced him to turn into the exact character that killed his parents in a terrible twist of irony. and after sheer-fucking-luck hits and they aren't homeless anymore, their livelihood wavers on the outcome of what's a literally game to everyone but them; and after things are finally starting to look up and their team is going places and things just might be okay, his gradually stabilizing world unceremoniously expands and everything goes to shit.

and the city that chewed him up and spat him back out, ruined him as a child and took away his ability to stay afloat in a true sense of normalcy as an adult — when it's on the verge of destruction and falling to pieces before his eyes, he gives himself to save it with the full expectation to die. he went from the kid who didn't and couldn't care about anything outside of himself and his brother, to finding redemption for his younger self in his police work despite its injustice against him, to willingly sacrificing himself to a world that had never loved him.

he's a desperate people pleaser, socially and emotionally stunted for the adult he had to be as a kid, unable to navigate interpersonal relationships easily yet still trying his damned hardest. he's intensely and entirely devoted to the things that matter to him and for so long it was only him, bolin, and ensuring their survival — yet by the end, that devotion has expanded to protecting the rest of the world. he starts out entirely self-reliant and ends in trusting the people he cares about to know their own needs, to be able to take care of themselves, to be okay without him despite having spent so much of his life defined by his role in others' well-being.

just. what the fuck i'm such a big fan of this fictional guy and i'm unashamed about it at this point. also let him cry please (if you won't i'll do it i'll let him cry)

[the-meme-monarch]

making an animatic is so embarrassing. hey do you want to see the 26 second video I’m drawing. yeah it’s to a funny audio. do you mind if i show it to you twelve more times over the course of a week

[angelmush]

the other day i walked around the golden lake w my love and the sun was setting hot and orange and we watched a brown duck preening through the weeds, ducking her head under the dark water. the cool lake swallowed up my tired feet to the ankles and we counted the dog walkers with their curly panting doodles and their handsome german shepherds and their whip smart little terriers and we admired the careful construction of a sand castle whose moat held determinedly against the lapping of the waves. we could feel in our chests the persistent thunderous thumping of celebratory music at the finish line of the lakeside 5k, welcoming each gasping runner across its bounds. and i felt like crying. i felt like curling into myself and crying. we walked through the swamp of the bird sanctuary afterwards and listened to the woods sing and croak and groan and then we went and got ube and yuzu gelato and devoured it suntired and sweating on the couch in our living room. and i was so overcome w a deep and true unshakeable happiness and a sort of confused grief that i wanted to sob and sob and sob.

[mokeonn]

Before I go to sleep I leave you all with this piece of advice: sometimes you don't actually have to answer big political questions, sometimes you can just say "I am not smart enough to know that, I just know the small things I do to help." Like you can often times completely avoid making a fool of yourself if you just say you don't know.

[angelnumber27]

violently forcing myself to have better days

[boxwinebaddie]

i feel like i’ve written some version of divorce era kyle describing how frightening looking at a stan he thinks HATES him is like A Million Times, but i feel like i can never articulate the quiet mounting Horror quite right, but this is the one i like the best thus far, i think? xx

[moe-broey]

LIKE!!!!!! BEING TRANSGENDER BEING QUEER IN ANY WAY ISN'T HARMFUL BEHAVIOR!!!!!!! IT'S LITERALLY NOT EVEN A BEHAVIOR!!!!! IT'S JUST A THING THAT YOU ARE!!!!!! And SOMETIMES. You act accordingly! You may change your name and pronouns! You may seek HRT! You may look into surgery! You may only do a few of those things or any combination of those things (or maybe even none?!), whichever works for you and your sense of self-actualization. BUT. Doing ANY of those things. Is NOT HARMFUL BEHAVIOR!!!!!!!!!!! And in the sexuality department! If you have "same sex attraction" as they like to call it. Also not even a behavior. It's just a thing you Feel. But of course you gotta moralize Feelings, too. Forget about it!!!!! And if you Act on it. That's still not harmful. Who are you harming? Giving a little kissie to your same gendered homie???? Or getting handsy????? But on God. Do not get me started. My MAIN POINT. Is that there is literally no harm. There is nothing to correct here. There is nothing to fix here. Except for the hatred in your heart!!!!!! Your fear of the unknown!!!!!!!! WHY DID YOU HAVE TO GIVE ME ONGOING EVERLASTING TRAUMA OVER THIS THIS IS FUCKING STUPID‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

[good-beanswrites]

Just wanted to plant an idea if you wanted a bit of fuel: Mahiru asking Yuno to come to her cell before everything goes down.

Edit: I forgot the ask didn't say it but this is part of Kyanako's incredible Order Of Attack AU!

Didn't mean for this to become a mini Mappi study but here we are ✨ Thank you for the request! I fully intended to write them hanging out, but it's more right before they hang out lol. Went a bit on-the-nose with foreshadowing, but isn't that the fun part? It has become Emotional Over Mahiru Hour...

I kept things vague, but TW for mentioning her boyfriend's state of potential self-harm

Mahiru tried not to act superstitious, she really did. As much as she loved the idea of little luck charms, or avoided easy signs of misfortune, it was easier to keep quiet about such ridiculous things.

Maybe catching a bride’s bouquet meant no guarantees; maybe there was no real harm in stepping underneath ladders, maybe a coin tossed into a fountain had no real magic to its wish. However, the one thing she knew for sure held power was a lucky presence. Being in the right place at the right time could alter everything. And today was the right time for something. There was this waiting in the air. The prison had been holding its breath. Mahiru knew it was time to release it all.

“You must be so lonely, why don’t you let big sis Mahiru keep you company?” She beamed at Amane.

She often recalled the good fortune that she and a certain young man had crossed paths on the university terrace. She used to laugh with him about the wonderful coincidence of bumping into each other outside of the bakery, then the convenience store. 

Though she’d never spoken about it to him, she was also grateful for many occasions where she walked in on him at the precise moment to talk him out of something reckless. She always told him that they’d do everything together. He didn’t need to be alone anymore. 

“I wish to be alone. I need peace of mind to think.” Amane turned away from the cell door.

It was a good thing, too. Mahiru’s smile wasn’t as convincing as she said, “o-oh. Of course.”

She made her way around the panopticon, hearing Fuuta pace his cell in anticipation. He must have felt it too, this holding of breath. 

Or perhaps not. He turned down her offer for a bit of company, including a few more colorful words than Amane had. Mahiru just apologized for bothering him and headed back to her cell. She wasn’t sure where Mikoto was at this hour, but she didn’t feel like smiling through a third rejection.

She shook her head back and forth. She wished the motion could rattle the voices inside, she wished she could shake them all away. With her arms secured in place she could no longer cover her ears. She used to hum to keep them at bay, but lately they’d been too loud to stifle. They just kept on talking.

Their words told her the two were right. Nobody needed her company. No – nobody wanted it. Being together hadn’t helped her boyfriend. In fact, being together had been the very thing that got him killed. No wonder Amane and Fuuta wanted to avoid her. 

So then, this was for the best. She would rather deal with the brief sting of refusal than stumble in one day to find them hurt… or worse. As much as she tried to avoid the superstition of it all, the voices reminded her that her very presence could mean life or death. 

“Mappi, are you alright?” Mahiru hadn’t realized a tear had slipped down her cheek until she hurried to swipe it away in front of Yuno. 

“Hah, I’m fine! Just fine.” It was impossible to fool her, Mahiru had learned, but that never stopped her from trying. 

At least she always spoke tactfully. “Rough morning?”

Mahiru shifted her arms in her uniform, making a small sound of agreement.

“Can I do anything to help? What if I stay with you for a bit? I can do your hair, and…”

The voices were right. Amane and Fuuta knew it, too. Presences did hold power, and Mahiru’s was cursed.

But she would sound foolish admitting such a fear to Yuno. She'd heard plenty from the voices about how stupid and airheaded she was, there was no use in getting the same lecture from someone as grounded as her.

Mahiru managed a weak protest, unable to explain her real reasoning. Yuno was insistent. She didn’t give much of a choice. Could she feel the strangeness of the prison, as well? 

At last, Mahiru allowed her shoulders to sag. Yuno was lucky. And kind. Having her nearby would do her good. Amane and Fuuta would be alright. Mahiru had tried spending more time with them after verdicts were announced. Now, she made a mental note to pull back. If her love couldn’t save anyone, at least she could spare them from her curse. They would be safe. 

“Yes. Please stay. The truth is... I don't want to be alone.”

[dossei-dossei]

how deal with taidan

[the-golden-dragoness]

Not crying and being guilt ridden again :))))))

[vagrantclown]

Screaming crying throwing up what the fuck is a gender

[peachyteabuck]

having low empathy is weird bc I feel like I've always had big emotions and pretty often everyone else's response seems to be to suck it up & shut the fuck up about it. but then I have the same response to other peoples' problems and suddenly I'm the bad guy. which feels pretty weird, considering no one seemed to have a problem with that dynamic when I was on the receiving end of it.