#we hate moderation here!

[voerman]

milf necromancer v2.0

patch notes:

changed her from high elf to seldarine drow

gave her some sick clothes

more wrinkles

[phaedo]

watching nanowrimo defending ai blow up after years of abuse and mismanagement from nano hq is like watching every writer on the internet go "i can excuse rampant forum moderation abuse on two different websites but i draw the line at machine that helps you write"

[black-salt-cage]

antis you have REALLY gotta stop interacting with us if you deem this body some vicious evil witch from the salem period because this last round of anti interaction has gotten us more followers than the actual stim posting has and I don't think that's what you wanted to accomplish

[unopenablebox]

does the fact that maybe.... 25-50% of the time, i seem to be much, much better at rhetoric and message-crafting than anyone else in the room [union meeting] i am in, indicate that i have a moral duty to go full-time union organizer and be really all-in on Comms and Messaging

[flowersandbess]

Thinking of writing a fic between Tom and Greg to raise awareness of what’s happening with Reddit and their absolutely absurd treatment of third party apps

[hussyknee]

I am going to die.

In a highly unusual move, the White House has requested for it to be able to conduct arms deals with Israel in complete secrecy, without oversight from Congress or the public — in a time when the U.S. is supporting a military that experts say has been committing war crimes in Gaza and beyond. The White House made the request within a $106 billion supplemental defense funding request sent on October 20. As reported by In These Times, the White House is asking for up to $3.5 billion in military funding for Israel to be able to purchase weapons and other equipment, from sources like the U.S. military or U.S. defense contractors, without the spending having to be approved by or even disclosed to Congress.[...]

The request comes as the Biden administration has sought to crush dissent on its support of Israel, even within its own ranks. A new report by HuffPost published Thursday found that Biden officials are sidelining work within the State Department on the atrocities that Israel is committing in Gaza, seeking to seemingly cover up the issue and disallow employees from speaking up against the genocide. Citing Paul and five workers within the agency, the outlet reports that State Department staff have been told by higher ups that they are not going to be able to move the needle on the executive branch’s approach to Israel, no matter their credentials or the horrific things they report coming out of Gaza.

2 Nov 23

[gojoest]

curiosity (part 2) — gojo satoru

MDNI, f! reader, she/her pronouns, childhood best friends to lovers, college, no curse au, once again mention of ex gfs (one of them makes a brief appearance), pining, reader wears boy shorts, reader is a virgin (no virginity loss), so is satoru lol, mutual masturbation (handjobs + fingering), he cums on your belly (accidentally), pussyjob, first kiss, kind of proofread (sry if tenses are messed up), wc: 5.3k, dividers by @/cafekitsune 

this takes place the morning after the handjob you gave satoru and is basically a long ramble about two childhood best friends exploring each other’s bodies (nowhere near in moderation) but finding it difficult to redefine their bond. 

part 1

a/n: i didn’t think i would get around to writing a continuation but here we are... i fear there will be a part 3 as well in the future :’) i hope you enjoy! <3 

Last night Satoru and you slept together, in one bed, for the first time in years. 

Sure, it wasn’t just sleeping like you initially (and very confidently) suggested. Curiosity got the better of you after he, although not intentionally, showed you a side to him you had never seen before. And so, you got a bit handsy. 

Satoru stopped sharing a bed with you during sleepovers sometime early into high school. ‘You always hog the blanket’, ‘You toss and turn a lot’, ‘You breathe too loud’, ‘It’s too hot’... — is what he would say, and you didn’t think much of it. Shrugging it off as him being a rude idiot, trying to make you look bad. 

There was no way he’d actually tell you that he had started popping frequent boners around you, courtesy of puberty along with these unrequited feelings he started harboring for you the day you moved into his neighborhood at the age of four. 

It was embarrassing. He couldn’t possibly come clean to you — you were best friends. What if you came to hate him? What if you started avoiding him? 

He spent his high school years trying to get over you. He started dating around. But he never felt the same way with any of the other girls, a clear sign of which was his actions and the lack of dedication toward them. He’d often forget about promised dates or picking them up after school to walk home together because he was too busy following you around. Helplessly. Hopelessly. He couldn’t just leave you on your own even for a second, the thought of seeing another dude hanging around you would scare the shit out of him. Trying to let go yet strongly clinging to you. You didn’t need to like him back as long as you didn’t like anyone else either. Just stay by his side. 

And now, college isn’t any different. 

Well, it wasn’t. Until last night. 

Satoru couldn’t sleep after what happened while you dozed off quickly, as if the events that took place were nothing out of the ordinary. You seemed oddly comfortable which, truth be told, rose concern in him. 

He had a lot of questions. 

Do you like him? Weren’t you supposed to be at least a bit nervous if you did? Or were you simply so curious about these stuff that anyone would’ve been fine, it just happened to be him? He’s glad it was him. But what will happen with you two now? Will things be awkward? Can you go back to how you used to be? What is he supposed to say to you once you open your eyes? Will you start avoiding him? Should he pretend like nothing happened? 

“Shit, I fucked up”, he whispers, thumbing his forehead like he’s trying to get rid of a headache that isn’t even there. 

Please don’t avoid me, he thinks as his gaze shifts to you, still sleeping soundly. 

You were drooling on the pillow in your sleep. Your hair was a mess and your eyes were crusty, the dried residue sitting in the inner corners of them. The entire blanket was on your side too, covering only you while he was out in the open, his feet cold.  

What’s so good about you anyway?, he thought for a good minute. A soft smile creeping in on his lips. He couldn’t come up with a single thing that wasn't. 

“Mff...”, you let out a drowsy yawn and your eyes flutter open. Rolling on your back, you stretch your arms up and turn your head to look at Satoru. “Mowniiin’ ”, you drag out through another yawn. 

Satoru’s heartrate picks up. Here comes the moment he’s been dreading — facing the consequences. “Hey”, he greets back, a little bit dull in order to mask his nervousness as he acts out in his head all the different possibilities and the plausible end of your friendship. 

“You don’t have a boner again, do you?”, you ask bluntly, unaware of the sweat and blood he’d been shedding in an internal battle up until now, filled with fear that today might be the day he loses it all. 

“Really now?”, he gives you a look. Your crudeness is astounding him but in a way it also lessens the worry in his chest. “You’re really going to ask me that?” 

“...do you?”, you turn on your side again, a glint of amusement in your expression. 

“You know I am. Don’t you see it yourself?”, he clicks his tongue. 

You snicker to yourself. Of course you do. After all, the blanket was wrapped around you only while he laid exposed next to you with no layer to cover the bulge in his shorts. 

“Morning wood?”, you look at it. “Or is it because of me again?” 

“Stop assuming things, it’s morning wood”, he states point-blank. “It’s always like this when I wake up”, which was a lie. It didn’t always happen, or at least it wasn’t this insistent. 

“Hmm”, you nod. “Maybe you’re not cumming enough?” 

“That’s not how it works”, he sighs. “And this is definitely not something I’ve ever expected to hear from you” 

“Hmm”, you nod again. Peeking at him mischievously. “Can I—” 

“No.” 

“But—” 

“Cut it out, will you? What’s gotten into you ever since last night? Asking to touch me and what not?”, he snaps, frustrated.  

“But you let me” 

“Men can’t say no to that when they’re about to bust”, he lies, kind of. “But what the hell is wrong with you?” He thinks it’s so unfair to test him like this when he’s the only one with feelings. It is quite cruel of you. 

“I don’t know”, you shrug, a guilty pout on your mouth. Satoru never raises his voice at you unless something is really bugging him. “I’m not sure myself, but I liked it, what happened last night... I enjoyed it”, you quietly admit. 

“You did?”, his voice goes back to normal, but this time it’s his eyes that snap wide. A slight sense of hope creeps in inside his heart now. Maybe this little slip-up could kick start something, he starts to think. 

You nod. “Didn’t you like it too?” 

“...I did”, his face heats up and he covers it with a hand. The essence of the conversation and the fact you liked touching him made his cock even harder. It wasn’t just a simple morning wood at this point. 

“I want to do it again”, you tell him. “But do you?” 

“You ask me stuff like this when I am horny and expect me to turn you down?” He slowly slides his hand down his face, stopping it right over his mouth and cupping it into his palm. “Are you sure?”, his voice muffled. 

You shake your head affirmatively, with zero hesitation. “Can you touch me too? I got really wet last night while jerking you off... Your struggling face and the sounds you made were really...sexy. I wanted to cum too”, a tint of embarrassment in your tone now that you were saying this out loud. 

Your abrupt and not at all anticipated confession had Satoru almost chocking on his own saliva. Due to shock, it went down the wrong pipe when swallowing, leading him to cough profusely. “I am starting to think that you’re plotting to kill me one of these days” 

“It’s because you told me to come to you if I ever get curious about other things” 

“I clearly did not mean murder” 

You chuckle, and slowly peel the covers off you, throwing them out of the way and kicking them behind you. The shirt you’re wearing rolled up, exposing the boy shorts on your lower half and a damp spot visibly staining them on the front. 

“You're wet", Satoru points out, surprise and smugness mixed in his expression.  

“I thought you didn’t like to state the obvious”, you huff, rushing to fix yourself, but he reaches for your hand and stops you in your tracks.  

“Is it because of me?”, he looks at you with a glint of hope, giving you a taste of your own medicine, while guiding your touch toward his crotch. His other hand pulling his shorts and boxers down, just enough to take his cock out and press your hand on it — feeling less awkward and a little bit more confident about this now that he sees clear indications of your arousal. 

Sure, you touched him last night, but you didn’t see him... It all happened under the covers, so this was a first. He was big, both lengthy and girthy. Veiny too. Precum slicked the tip of his cock. The head was pink while the rest — a lighter shade but still a bit darker than his complexion. You didn’t think of it as pretty, yet it was stirring weird, unknown emotions and desires in you. 

“...yeah, ‘cause of you... I think”, you bury your face in the pillow, shying away, but at the same time you shamelessly wrap your hand around his length, giving it a slow first stroke, causing his breath to rasp in his chest. The needy little pant he let out the second you made contact with him urged you to rub your thighs together, the tension in your lower half growing heavier. 

Now with your roles somehow reversed, you realize how embarrassed he must’ve been last night... 

“Can I?”, he swallows nervously. His hand, slightly shaking, held out in front of your clothed pussy, waiting for your verbal permission before he goes any further.  

“Go ahead, I was the one who asked in the first place”, you reassure. 

Just like he did for you, you help your shorts down for him and place his hand between your folds. “But—”, you pause, timidly flinching at the foreign touch. “Don’t push your fingers very deep, I— well, you know...” 

He smiles. “I know, don’t worry”  

He was aware that you never had your first time. Neither did he, which you would probably never guess. 

Despite his rich and lengthy dating history, Satoru never went that far with any of his girlfriends. Not that the opportunity was never present — he had the looks and he had the charm so naturally they would throw themselves at him quite often. But he simply never desired them enough to even pop a boner. Well, sure it happened a few times here and there and only because some of them resembled you way too much. 

At the end of the day, his dick and his mind were oddly connected. And his mind, it was still stuck on you. Perhaps, deep down, he always hoped that one day you’d be his first. 

Just like last night, you were laid on your sides again, but this time both of you had your hands in each other’s pants. Your faces so close you were touching foreheads and breathing into your mouths. Not kissing, just breathing and exchanging pants and lewd moans as you worked your hands through the pleasure of the other, reveling in the sounds you each made.  

"Is this, um, okay... like this?”, he breathily asks, but what he truly means is ‘Am I doing this right?’, while he’s got his thumb on your clit, rubbing it in circles, and two of his fingers — index and middle — carefully gliding over your inner lips. 

You hum, biting your lip in an attempt to swallow the obscenity threatening to roll out of your tongue. Your mind was slowly going blank. “I-it f-feels real-ly g-good”, you manage through multiple pants. “Too g-good", you add, your grip letting loose around him, slowing down the strokes, the more he teased your folds. But, his free hand grabs yours, squeezing you back around him while he starts to buck his hips into your fist — a subtle reminder to maintain your ministrations, to not forget about him. 

You huff at his actions, but it’s only fair — you acknowledge.  

He must have quite the experience, you think. This thought a bit bothering you on itself, that he’s had his hand down other girls’ pants before, maybe his cock too, so he’s able to multitask like this... While this is a first for you. Unsure why, you feel like slapping him the more you think about it, picturing him with other girls makes you oddly jealous, but his fingers ease you back into pleasure. You’ll get mad at him later, you think. 

“Tell me if it hurts. Okay?”, he nuzzles his nose against yours — since both of his hands were busy now, this was the only way of asking you to look at him. 

He wanted to see your eyes and confirm for himself that you were indeed alright, that he was really doing this right because he’s never done it before, only seen it in porn. He was afraid that he’d get too distracted and hurt you unintentionally. You felt so good against his fingers that it was enough to make him lose control. All the wet dreams he’s had in the past can’t compare. He already had a lewd depiction of you in his mind that he used to jerk off to — about the way you’d look and feel down there, about the noises you’d make, about the ways your face would contort with fervor... But he realizes now that he was too frivolous and lacking in imagination. The real you beats it all. 

You look at him, your brows slightly lifted, lips closed but twitching in betrayal, threatening to let out the loud moan building in your throat. His fingers scarcely prodding in only weakening your resolve. 

“Let it out”, he speaks to you softly. “Don’t hold it back”, again with that sweet, sweet voice. 

"Shit, you’re so foul when you use that kind of voice”, you audibly gasp, and then let it all out.  

He chuckles. 

His pace quicker now, greedily trying to drag more moans out of you. His entire palm, squished between your legs, now covering your pussy, rubbing harder against your folds with his middle finger slightly curled so the tip of it darts inside you with every movement. Not too deep, just enough to not break your hymen. It was driving you insane and you couldn’t keep your mouth shut. You’re certain you have never been this loud in your entire life. And you really wanted to slap him again because you were the only mess right now, your urge going stronger after witnessing that cheeky expression on his face, his tongue poking out the corner of his mouth, too focused to make you cum — maybe he was paying you back for last night. 

But alas, you couldn’t do anything about it. You lost control, completely as he hit just the right places and brought you overwhelming, toe-curling pleasure. 

“Did it feel good?”, Satoru curiously peeks at you as you try to catch your breath. 

“Yes”, you heave. His hand was still there, fingers fumbling with your folds, hence why the tremors washing through your body took longer to quiet down. “Very”, you add. 

“Will you help me finish too?” 

You nod, fixing your loose grip around his cock but moving it in a quite relaxed manner, slowly. 

“Are you doing this on purpose?”, he huffs. 

“No. What’s the rush?” 

“We have classes” 

“We’re already late” 

You squeeze, your strokes now steadier — not faster, but heavier — as you drag your hand up and down, earning a gratifying groan out of him. “We can skip altogether”  

“And?”, he pants, with eyes half-lidded he looks at you. Are you going to suggest what he’s thinking about too? 

“We can stay like this for a bit” — you gather your pace. “Wash up” — accelerating it more after the pause. “Have breakfast” — and some more. “And do this all over again” — and... 

Satoru opens his mouth but doesn’t say anything. Instead, he moans low and throatily as his orgasm starts to build up. 

Was it the way you moved your hand or what you said that made him crumble so fast, he was not so sure. But it was quite the intense thing. He bucked his hips a little until every bit of drop was out, and he did so in a way that made you clench. The way he squeezed his eyes shut, nose scrunched up while he bit his lower lip, his hand gripping your waist to steady himself as he thrusted into your fist... It was way too of an arousing sight. 

He made a huge mess too. His cum sprayed all over your belly, uncontrollably. Your hand and fingers coated in it too. 

“Shit— I didn’t mean to”, he panics, jolting and rushing to grab some tissues from the nightstand, but you stop him. 

“It's okay”, you reassure him. “I think I like it”, you confess. “Next time you can cum on me intentionally” 

“There is really something wrong with your head, we should go get you checked out”, he mocks, but he hides his face in the pillow to conceal the smile stretching on his lips along with the already existing blush on his cheeks. Next time, huh?  

You stayed in for the day. Just as you suggested, you lingered in bed for a little longer, bickering back and forth, which put Satoru at ease. He was sick worried, but things were still the same between you two. Not quite as they used to be, considering last night and this morning, but you were still you. There was no tension, nor any awkwardness in the air. 

You washed up together over the bathroom sink, bumping hips as you brushed your teeth. 

He always kept a spare toothbrush for you for when you’d stay the night. He diligently changed it with a new one every now and then. Although you didn’t have any clothes over at his dorm room, he gave you his while complaining how thoughtless you were for not bringing spare clothing with you, only causing him more trouble with piling up more laundry. But he liked it, secretly. His t-shirts looked good on you, like you were his girlfriend. He didn’t have any clothes back at your room either, at first. There was no way yours would ever fit him, so he brought some and left them there. You always washed them with your clothes and they smelled like the detergent you’d always use. It made him feel like he was your boyfriend. 

Later, you had breakfast, and after that — another session of exploring your bodies. Again, you only used your hands. He sat you on the table and fingered you while you stroked his cock. 

You played some games, read manga, took a nap, ate lunch, and then you did it again. 

And again, after dinner. 

Then some more before you went to bed. 

You never kissed though, not yet. As if the kiss itself meant something entirely different in the light of what you were doing, something more intimate than masturbating each other. 

Day two and three were no different, you stayed locked in and repeated. You ate, you fucked each other with your hands, and you slept. 

Nothing changed on the fourth either, only that you ran out of food but ordered takeout. 

“Can you make it a bit spicy?”, Satoru spoke on the phone to a nearby restaurant he’d frequently order from. So frequently in fact that they knew his order by heart, and asking for the dish to be spicy was unusual of him.  

“Huh? You always make we don’t put any spice in your food? Are you sure?”, the takeout clerk gasped from the other side of the line. 

Scratching the back of his head, Satoru looked around to see if you were still in the bathroom before he spoke. “Yeah, I know. But, um— my girlfriend likes it”, he said, his face heating up with a red hue. 

You weren’t his girlfriend. Neither of you made an attempt to redefine your relationship, and he was too afraid to make the first step. What if you were simply acting out this way because you were indeed just curious?  

Either way, he wanted to say it. To say that you were his girlfriend. And it wasn’t the first time he’d done it. People would often time confuse you for a couple, and he’d never flat out deny it. You never knew about this though, it always happened behind your back. Either his friends being too nosy, or an old lady on the street telling him how good you looked together after you ran off to pet a stray cat. 

On the fifth day, some friends got a bit worried. You were gone for almost an entire week, skipping classes, so that was a given. 

suguru: wtf bro  suguru: u alive? 

satoru: yeah  satoru: more than ever 

suguru: huh 

satoru: i might have a shot with her  satoru: i'll tell u later 

suguru: with who? 

satoru: ur mom i've been pining over since i was four  satoru: be fr now  

suguru: wait  suguru: HER her??????????? 

satoru: yeah HER her 

suguru: wow it's happening? 

satoru: idk  satoru: ...kinda 

suguru: good luck bro  suguru: if you fuck it up i'll try my chance with her  suguru: so make sure u do ur best LOL 

satoru: i will beat u up and block u 

Naturally, it started to feel less awkward the more you did it. ‘Are you hard?’ or ‘Are you wet?’ being the initiating lines you were both dying to hear now, knowing well what they’d lead to. The answer was always ‘yes’, there was no denying that you were both hard and wet around each other for the most part. 

At some point you began skipping the questions, just letting your hands roam and find out. Consent was always silently present. 

Even when you weren’t being naughty with each other, it was different. You had definitely started seeing Satoru in a new light, which scared you a little bit. The way you looked at him, and the way you caught him looking at you — it wasn’t the same as it had been. There was more to it. 

On the sixth day, you tried something different.  

“My hands are tired”, you complain. 

“Let’s try something different”, Satoru proposes. 

He lies on his back, holding his cock flat against his stomach. “Hop on it” 

“What—”, your eyes pop out in shock. “I’m not ready for that, yet”, you squirm, holding your face in your palms. You were curious about intercourse, of course, but you were also scared. All the forums you scrolled through had a different take on it — some netizens said the first time was painful while others claimed they only felt a slight discomfort but nothing more. Many mentioned bleeding too. You didn’t know which category you’d fall into. And as much as you wanted it, the idea of putting Satoru’s cock inside you was quite intimidating. He was big. Will it even fit?  

Satoru chuckles. “I don’t mean that — just straddle me, sit yourself right on top of it and rock your hips back and forth” He points at his cock, “See, I am holding it down for you so it won’t enter you. You’ll just hump against the length of it and nothing more. It’ll feel good, I promise” 

You peek at him from between your fingers. “Okay”, you timidly agree. 

It was good, but short-lived. Unfortunately, you didn’t get to finish in this position because Satoru came too soon and too hard, his entire body shivering continuously. He had no idea what he was getting himself into when he proposed it but having your warmth and your slick on his cock directly from the source messed him up. It took him every ounce of restraint not to just slide it in and have his way with you. 

On the seventh day, after all the things you’d done, you finally shared your first kiss.  

It was nothing nearly romantic like it was in the books and in the movies. In fact, it kind of happened out of spite. 

It was around lunchtime. You both felt like eating pizza today, and so you ordered. In the meantime, while waiting for your food to be delivered, you hopped in the bathroom to take a quick shower. 

Satoru wanted to join you too, but you kicked him out, telling him to wait for the delivery guy. With a tail between his legs and a hangdog face he crawled back on the bed, huffing and puffing loudly so you could hear him and maybe pity him enough to invite him back... 

His brilliant performance of a sad puppy was interrupted by a knock on the door. This was quick, he thought, and jumped out of the bed, thrilled — he could pay for the food and sneak in to play with you... 

He quickly tossed on a shirt and put on some shorts on the way to get the door. 

It was not the food. 

It was his ex, standing on his doorstep with her arms crossed over her waist, eyeing him demandingly. 

“Don’t tell me you’re so heartbroken over our breakup that you would lock yourself in your room and skip classes for an entire week?”, she scoffs. 

“Did you forget who broke up with who?”, Satoru snorts. 

For sure, she did not. Satoru did it quite cruelly, over text after ghosting her for three days. It was not his proudest moment but he didn’t care enough to feel guilty over it.  

And she was fully aware of it too. But still, she liked him a lot, in fact she liked him ever since orientation and it took her an entire year to work her way to him. She was desperate. 

She sighs deeply, dropping the attitude now. “You never replied to my messages” 

“Didn’t see” 

“You did, but you left me on seen” 

“Must’ve forgotten to answer” 

His answers were short and dry. The timing was simply bad, and he wanted her out of here before you came out of the shower, concerned that her being here would create a misunderstanding in your head. 

“Look, I am sorry I said all those stuff about your friend. But it bothered me, okay? You treated her more like a girlfriend than you did me, your actual girlfriend... I was constantly under the impression that—”, before she could finish a third voice cut her off. 

“’Toru”, you yell from behind him. “Is it the food?” 

Your hair damp, a towel wrapped around your body, you saunter over to the door from behind him to peek, but your feet freeze in place. 

Oh? That girl... his ex. 

You woke up happy this morning, in fact you woke up happy every morning for the past seven days but now your mood was foul all of a sudden. That same odd feeling you’d get whenever you thought of Satoru with another girl creeped in in your chest. While you brushed it off easily in the past, you couldn’t quite do so now. The irritation grew more insistent. Your demons were threatening to act up. 

“...there was something going on between you”, the girl finishes her sentence, then pauses to let out a short laugh and shake her head in disbelief before she continues. “I guess my hunch was right, huh?” 

You step a little closer, standing right next to Satoru. 

Something you couldn’t quite put your finger on came over you. Of course, you could read the room — she obviously came here to mend things up. And you were not happy about it. Not in the slightest. Was this annoying feeling tugging at your chest called jealousy? You didn’t have a reason to hate this girl, she did nothing to you. Yet... 

“Well, well. Aren’t you a smart one?” — you couldn’t believe the words coming out of your mouth right now but you didn’t have it in you to stop.  

Utterly amused, Satoru stared at you. He was shocked, in a pleasingly new way. A semblance of an idiotic smile plastered on his lips while he did nothing to stop you. 

“Should I perhaps solidify your hunch with a proof so you stop running after someone else’s boyfriend?”, you glare at her. 

Standing on your toes, you clutch a handful of Satoru’s shirt with both hands, pulling him down to the level of your face for your lips to reach his, and kiss him. 

Helpless in the face of your lips laid against his, he lets out an audible gasp. The sound of it vibrating against your mouth. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, he thinks, but his eyes close anyway, melting into the softness of your lips. There was no tongue, just a long peck, and he couldn’t help but smile into it. 

Without breaking the kiss, you look at the girl from the corner of your eye, and you slam the door in her face. 

“Good riddance”, you murmur after pulling away from Satoru, and walk back inside. 

He never knew that a simple kiss like this could make him so dizzy that he would lose his balance and stumble. As if his feet got caught in something he involuntarily took a few sharp steps forward, putting his arms out to steady himself and avoid falling face down. 

“Hey”, he called out, slowly following behind you. 

“What’s her deal anyway?”, you keep going at it, still beyond irritated. “Didn’t you guys break up?” 

“Hey”, he speaks again, stepping closer. 

“And she's pestering you like this? The audacity...” 

“Hey—” 

“What!”, you yell, turning around to give him a scolding too because, knowing him, he probably didn’t end things with her in a manner that was polite and proper.  

...but he was right behind you, smiling at you affectionately with his eyes. It made your breath hitch, and your chest — feel a bit peculiar. 

“Hey”, he repeats again, softly. His hands squish your cheeks inside his palms and he slowly cranes his neck down. “Did you mean it?”, he asks through a whisper. 

You shift your gaze to the side, avoiding to look at him directly. “Did I mean what?”, you puff. 

“Calling me your boyfriend”, he tilts his head to the side, blocking your view and forcing you to look at him. 

“No... I was just saving your ass” — you try to break free to prevent the heat on your cheeks from warming the skin of his palms, from giving you away. But he’s holding you still. 

He leans in closer and whispers, “Would it be so bad if I was your boyfriend?” 

It was not a question as much it was a plea. Let me. 

“You’re a bit of a jerk sometimes, so maybe? I know for sure people will judge me for my poor taste” 

“Your mom won’t, she likes me”, he points out, proudly. 

“She likes you more than she likes me, her own daughter, so her opinion is invalid. In fact, she would tell you to go pick someone better”, you snort, and he laughs. She really did love him like her own son. After all, he grew up in her hands along with you. You spent day and night together, in and out of each other’s houses. 

“I am serious”, he gives a gentle squeeze around your face, an attempt to snap you out of the ongoing banter because he was desperate to know. You didn’t give him a proper answer, but you didn’t reject him either — there was still hope, he thought. “Would you hate it?” 

“...I don’t know”, you let out quietly, conflicted. 

“Should we try? Or are you only curious about my body?” 

“See? You’re kind of a jerk after all”, you pout. “Will things change... between us?” 

“Aren’t they already changing?”, he smiles. 

You hum, softly tugging at the hem of his shirt with both of your hands. "I don't want to lose my best friend if we screw this up” 

“Same”, he nuzzles his face closer. “That’s why, we won’t screw this up”, he quietly chants into you like a promise, drawing his lips to yours tenderly before either of you have the chance to panic any further about the implications of this change. 

[incognitopolls]

From anon's observation, the dominant attitude on tumblr is of the "ew sportsball" variety, but they're curious how many people feel strongly about that or just don't care, and if there are many American football fans on here.

–

We ask your questions so you don’t have to! Submit your questions to have them posted anonymously as polls.

[noellevanious]

its beyond fucking sad like. tumblr as a site. as a function. is great. it arguably still holds a pre-internet 3.0 concept up and keeps it alive (blogs as a community tool). It functions completely uniquely from other social media. parts that haven't been eroded away by idiot companies playing hot potato are still great (i can still look through all of my posts with my archive tool, or make a new blog theme entirely).

All that had to be done was Not Dip Their Toes into the Transphobic Pool. Which isn't a hard request. It's literally just "respect the people that want to be trans and be happy and tell people that are slinging harassment at them to Fuck off".

Sure, they also need to not let the site erode more and more into this ugly little amalgam of a barely functioning ad-ridden Twitter wannabe that requires at least 2 different mobile add-ons to even function properly. But like. I'd happily support them monetarily if they weren't the most cartoonishly Scummy site.

Like I'm still on twitter and it's a cesspool. But there at least it's funny that "Cis" is considered a word that Musk wants censored for "Spreading hate speech".

Here I have to confront the fact, every few days, that whoever moderates the site will happily either Delete Trans/POC blogs without hesitation, or, if we wanna be generous, nobody moderating the site Gives a Shit and just lets Transphobe/racist hategroups run rampant on the report system.

And don't fucking forget what happened to Avery/Rita! I don't want to spread word about her without her approval, but I will say, people have no fucking clue how bad things got for her after what happened, and the fact that she's put up such a strong face when she was literally in the "Public's" Eye as a Trans Woman the CEO of a website stalked and harassed even after he personally demanded all of her blogs be Permanently erased, is beyond the pale of what should be asked for her, or any trans or poc person.

[theoncomingeasternwind]

I’m asking, no I’m begging for the air quality in Wisconsin to improve so I can actually go outside this summer without needing my inhaler. Last night I was watching my nephews baseball game, literally just sitting there, and I needed to use it.

[windser]

thinking more about streamerbf!kenma and how his subscribers have been pestering him about a q&a but kenma just hates the idea of just talking about himself. he’s fine having the sole attention on him while he’s playing games, used to idle chatter and occasional questions about his play style. but thirty minutes of what it’s like to be kenma ?

hard pass.

he complains about this to you one night, head tucked into your lap while you run your fingers through his scalp. he was approaching another significant subscriber milestone and his usual rewards aren’t cutting it. they just want to get to know you kenma, you try to reason. but all you get in return is a soft grown that could double as a whimper.

as a moderator, you know how his fans can get. social media in general when they unite under the same goal. no, this will hit a pinnacle if not handled carefully. part of you gets it. it took quite a bit of time for kenma to open up to your social agenda. from inquiring from his favorite type of bird to how he decides on what video game to play next, you spent what feels like years now getting to know your other half. now your boyfriend hardly even blinked while answering your-

at the thought, your lip purses in consideration.

days later, kenma only gives you a questioning grunt when you slide beside him during his stream. a few months ago, he’d purchased you a more comfortable chair to lounge in to share the same space as him. he rarely minded when you did, but usually you’d give him a heads up.

his chat is well trained enough at this point to know when you’re around.

user795: is that them? user23: hiiiiiiiii!! welcome user55: are they going to play today ?

you follow the messages with a hint of a smile, only giving a little wave in frame before turning to kenma. your boyfriend had removed the headphone closest to you, a small acknowledgment that always sent your heart a flutter.

off screen, you massage the top of his thigh which earns you a another quick glance and a slight slouch as he relaxes into your touch.

“ken, what was your first ever game you played ?”

now this gets you a longer look, one accompanied by a furrow brow and confusion. his lips move in a mumble but audible enough to hear however as he concedes without question, "mega man.”

from the corner of your eye, you see that chat reacting to his answer, some acknowledging it either familiarity and others new to it.

user124: ohhh i played that. good game man user775: i think my cousin played that but i’ve never seen it. can you still get that? user65: @user775 the og? you need backwards compatibility i think but yes user8895: i had a hard time beating that one. has kenma ever been beaten by a game?

still following the chat, you catch the question and propose it to kenma. with you here, he minds the chat a little less closely, only catching up when he breaks between missions.

“in middle school you played this one game for what felt like weeks, did you ever beat it?”

kenma shifts his leg under your touch, redirecting the circle of your thumb to a new spot. “tactics ogre? no, i kept getting stuck on the last boss. tetsuro asked to borrow it to try but he lost it.”

he’d obviously been miffed by the lost game but apparently not enough to repurchase it and probably complete it. that note didn’t seem to be lost to the chat.

user321: damn at least we know he’s human. even kenma gets stumped user642: to be fair that was a tough one. even the creator acknowledged that it was tough on players on release user533: i bet he could beat it now. that should be his next walkthrough.

“ah,” you bite your lips when kenma's gaze flickers briefly to the chat. “yeah, i might. i already have it in my library.”

grinning, you give him a light squeeze catching his eye in return before they went back to his game. you browse the slowly rolling in questions carefully, weeding through the more repetitive ones to find ones with more substance.

“did you ever play anything other than volleyball growing up?”

you wince when your boyfriend full on turns to face you. that might have been too specific of a question, something you so obviously knew and had no reason to ask without context. so all you could do was give him your best pleading gaze, hoping he’d play along and ask later.

it’s not until he huff that you know you’ve won, his response coming right after if not with a bit of sass.

“i got nagged enough between you and tetsuro with just volleyball, that was more than enough.”

user863: looooool user3626: i can’t really imagine kodzuken playing anything else. like soccer, can you imagine? user6556: nah volleyball was fitting user3322: they’ve always been familiar but how long have you guys actually dated?

your mouth opens and close sky soundlessly on the taste of that one. you knew in general when kenma actually asked you out, just short of your second year in high school. back then, the two of you had been fumbling with your feelings for months. but you never really learned when those feelings actually seeded for him.

but that was a moment for off screen conversation. instead you ask

“our first date back in second year of high school, you took me to the arcade and i obliterated you in DDR, remember that?”

kenma fires back quickly,” after i put high scored you on every other one.”

it's impossible not to grin as you remember that day. what had started as an awkward date forty minutes in had lasted an additional three hours as the both of you eased back into your normal routine.

user7: ughhhh to have a gaming s/o user6552: they’re so cute goals man user172: are they actually gamers ? user032: @user172 kenma plays some games with them on stream. they’re actually pretty good user4534: ohhh kodzuken never talks about his his favorite snacks, can you ask what those limited ones he always eats are?

that was an easy enough questions that got written off as your own ignorance. while you often did the grocery shopping, kenma placed most of his snack orders online. partly due to its limited availability and other reasons pertaining to it being out of country. kenma responds easily in turn.

user333: wait, is this the q&a we've been asking? user405: omg i have soo many questions saved!!!! i didnt realize it was today user7532: i thought kodzuken didn't want to do this? user89305: @user7532 well he's answering questions like he is

you frown as the chat explodes with activity, some questioning the validity of the 'event' others spamming the feed with their questions. it's more than enough to draw kenma's attention away from his other screen and you find yourself pausing as he tenses under your touch.

while you hadn't maliciously tricked him, you had coerced him into this. he'd have every right to scold you for it. you wince when he scoffs, preparing for the brunt of it. but what comes next is just a sigh as he shifts in his chair, the movement inviting your hand to rest comfortably more towards the inside of his thigh as he leaned back.

"you guys ask too many questions, this is why i didn't want to do this q&a. if you get too much for them to handle, i'm going to end the event."

and while his words sound stern, he truly does harvest a bunch of excited individuals as the stream only explodes even more with enthusiasm and inquiries.

frankly way too many for you to keep up with as you bewilderly try to scan the chat for feasible ones to ask. when you finally identify one and turn to ask, you find kenma watching you with that smug pull of his lips.

"well what's next?"

bonus:

eventually, kenma had taken over selecting his own questions as the stream properly shifted into the q&a event, title change and all. the chat adjusted to the new handler as well, being more strategic about their question timings in order to get the most of his attention.

every so often you would chime in, but you mostly relaxed back in your own chair with your legs resting across his lap.

you weren't sure how long exactly you expected this event to go, but you knew it was getting late. not necessarily for a kodzuken stream, but in the day in general.

it was kenma's touch now, that stroked your skin as his gaze followed the never ending influx of questions.

user345675: has he talked about hinata shoyo yet? user09432: i feel like people are asking the same questions user869320: will you ever have guests on your stream? user9642: kodzuken what is it like to run your own company?

intrigued enough, he opened his mouth to reply when another question rolled in

kenmaskitten: what does kodzuken want for dinner?

you look up from your phone as kenma's attention shifts to you. he holds your gaze as he replies,

"i want katsu."

you shrug, easy enough and all the ingredients are probably in the kitchen. however, as you go to slide your legs away, kenma captures one ankle.

"and apple pie."

that was less simple and tastes like a reward.

[marcy-lan-starlight]

a collection of screenshots in case @photomatt decides to wipe it all from that dumpster fire of a post he’s made

please note that litteraly minutes after posting that response, her account was wiped again.

and here we see photomatt clearly calling a trans woman “it” and then trying to very poorly backpedal. based on context clues and his backpedaling, its safe to assume his usage of “it” when referring to her was not to be in support of it/its users.

and here we can see photomatt trying very hard to gaslight the tumblr community into believing predstrogen was banned and wiped for harassment instead of the actual reason of “sexualy explicit material”, with the sexualy explicit mat in question having been manually confirmed by staff prior to her getting wiped to be not explicit in any way. this is itself a poor attempt at shifting the focus away from the glaring flaws with tumblr’s reporting system and how it became easily favours transmisogynest. this is a really poor step at distracting from it though as the distraction itself is 1. not an actual threat (i hope ≠ i will) 2. not a realistic form of harm 3. not actionable (she lives in ireland) and 4… also a blatant example of the rampant transmisogyny of the moderation, trans women alone receive much worse and more actionable and actually directed treats daily, not to mention other trans folk and any other minority group on this site, but the only time its ever addressed is when its a trans woman being mean to the ceo. most trans people have reported hate speech far worse than this and gone months without so much as a response, and with the response usually being “yea that death treat and call for genocide is fine” if they get a response at all. predstrogen herself had been the subject of a targeted har campaign for over a year, and had reported it, with no response from staff until the harassment campaign finally worked and got her banned for all eternity.

[luveline]

omg would die for a concussion fic with remus <33

—your concussion causes moderate memory loss, and you forget some very important details about your relationship with Remus. fem, 1.3k

“This is nice.” 

You toy with the ring on Remus’ finger, turning it around and around and around. With your weight bearing down on his right arm and your hand secured around his left to stop him from moving, there isn’t much he can do besides say, “Yeah?” 

“I love when guys wear rings.” 

“I had a suspicion.” 

You wince as stars flash through your vision, pausing in your toying to press your face into his chest. 

“You okay?” he asks. 

“I can see black and white spots.” 

“Oh, no,” he says sympathetically. “Close them, dovey. Take a breather.” 

The chair under you is uncomfortable, your back aches, your head twinges, but Remus is comfortable to lean again. He’s wearing one of his big hoodies, old enough to feel like brushed cotton under your cheek and against your nose, decals washed away. He steals his hand back to pat your shoulder, an image of patience. 

“Sorry. This isn’t a good second date.” 

Remus leans down to talk near your ear. “Dove,” he whispers, “this isn’t our second date, remember?” 

“It’s not?” 

“No, sweetheart. But that’s okay.” 

“You’re really handsome so I don’t want to mess it up.” 

“Mess what up, the date?” he asks. “You didn’t mess it up, it went very well. It was a year ago, but.” He smiles, his breath warming your face, his arm hot around you and securing you to his chest.

“A year ago?” 

“Yeah, a year ago. We went to winter wonderland and the bookshop by the train station and you wouldn’t let me buy you any books.” He laughs softly. “But I got you one eventually. A couple by now, at least.” 

“That’s nice.” 

“You’ve bought me a hundred more, it’s awful.” 

You raise your head to squint at him. “I have?”

“So many,” he whispers, dipping his chin down to kiss your nose, to your wide-eyed delight. “But you let me look after you in other ways.” 

“Let you?” 

“Yes, let me. It’s part of…” He cups your cheek quickly. “Sickness and health and everything. I have to keep you happy.” 

“Ah.” His ring is warm on your cheek. “Sickness and health, like we’re married.” 

“Something like that.” 

You straighten up as someone behind you coughs aggressively. A little further down a baby cries against a mother’s chest, and the TV plays a quiz show you’re starting to hate. Moving your head has black haunting the sides of your vision again, the light seeping in from the automatic doors too much to handle. 

“I’ve asked Sirius to bring you some sunglasses.” 

You turn around. “Sirius, that’s the one with the motorbike?” 

“Yeah. He should be quick. But maybe they’ll have called you in again by then and we can go home.” 

That’s right. You’ve been seen once by a doctor for triage, and sent back out again when they deemed you only mildly concussed, no bleeding on the brain, but an X-ray ordered for safety's sake anyways. That’s what you’re waiting for. Remus is waiting with you, because he’s a very nice man. 

“Sorry if I’m ruining your Saturday.” 

Remus’ hair falls from behind his ear as he lifts his head properly. “I think you might be having a worse day than me, so I’ll forgive you. I'm joking!” He tucks that stray strand behind his ear unsuccessfully. “You could never ruin my Saturday. I’d spend the entire bank holiday weekend in here with you, I only want them to look after you so I can finish the job.” 

Heat like a kiss on each cheek. You bring your hand to your nose, overwhelmed. “Really?” 

“We spend a lot of time together, sweetheart. I know you don’t remember right now, but I love you.” 

“You do?” 

“Don’t tell me you can’t feel that.” 

You look at him with the sunshine caressing the side of his face, his three mean scars and his scattered beauty spots. He has thick eyebrows, light brown eyes in the sun like honeyed tea, and a playful smile. More frown lines than smile lines, but the beginnings of crows feet speaks to some joy, at least. You bring your thumb up to a small wrinkle and stroke it, before tucking his hair behind his ear. It’s too short to stay put for long. 

“I love you,” you say surely. You do, even if you can’t remember more than your first date. 

He’s a good kisser, you remember. He’d pulled you back from your door and kissed you like you’d stolen the breath straight from his lungs. 

“I know.” He brings your hand from his ear to kiss. Gentle, he strokes your knuckles, his thumb turning a golden ring where it sits on your marriage finger. 

“It’s really like we’re married, we have matching rings,” you laugh. 

He holds his hand up between you. “We are married, lovely girl.” 

You steal your hand back. He waits without hurry, though a line of concern marks his brow. “Are we? When did we get married?” 

“Only a few days ago, but we’re married. This wasn’t on the honeymoon agenda.” 

He takes your hand with care and shows you the gold ring on your marriage finger to match his own, aligning your hands. The colour hadn’t seemed important a moment ago, nor the placement, but now you’re seeing them you realise you’d made a small misjudgement. It’s not like you’re married at all, you simply are. 

You frown. The way he’s holding your hand feels familiar, though the idea that you’re married is preposterous. You can’t remember any ceremony or reception, a proposal, nothing. There’s simply blank space there, which isn’t very nice. But… 

You’re not scared. You haven’t been worried once all day. 

“You have a concussion,” he says quietly, practised, like he’s said it to you before. “And it’s resulted in some amnesia, but it’s going to get better very soon.” 

“We’re definitely married?” 

“Unless you’ve changed your mind.” 

“I don’t want to change my mind.” You fluster quickly with what you’ve said, looking down at the hospital’s linoleum flooring. 

Remus takes your hand where it lays on your thigh and squeezes it. A thread of memory tugs at the touch; you remember this. His tender concern. His constant support. 

“Then you don’t have to. Whether you remember me or not, I’m here to look after you, okay? I’m right here.” 

You nod without looking up. His hand knows yours no matter what you remember, rubbing at all the best parts, holding with the perfect amount of pressure. 

“You okay?” 

“I guess our second date really did go well.” 

“Better than I could ever explain.” He tugs at your hand until you look at him, his head already ducked to keep you pinned by his gaze. “You’re like my shy girl all over again. I forgot how nervous you used to get.” 

You can see the Remus who became your husband and the one who scared butterflies into action every time he looked at you coalescing. “You’re really good-looking,” you explain. 

“And what do you think you are?” He rubs your hand. “You’re beautiful. Can I have a kiss, dove? Is that okay?” 

You squeeze your eyes closed. You’d been fighting stars in your eyes anyways.

When Remus kisses you, your body responds to his touch like it knows him. Your heart thuds against your ribs, your lips know exactly how to move and when he’s going to turn his head. Love for him shines through it. His love for you makes your chest hurt, his chaste kissing like a straight shot of oxytocin. All your worry saps away. 

“Feel any better?” he asks knowingly.

You remember enough about his teasing to withhold an answer. He kisses your cheek, his smile unmissable on your skin. 

[shandzii]

Pressure fandom how we feeling tonight

Uhh yeah been caught up,,

tbh I only stay in the art channels in the official server but I agree the place needs better moderation 💀 like I've had peeks at how the main channel can get.

Idk the other devs and admins as well as Zer but I do hope they get to act more professionally from now on because their game isn't a lil group project in their lil friend group anymore.

I'm just sitting here upset about everything surrounding Zerum (bc I have more of a connection to her) because holy shit genuinely why is it being brought up again,, Seeing the things people say/make up about her is scary as someone who actually got to *know* her.

She NEVER sent anyone to harass selfshippers. The main screenshots I've seen are her friends acting on their own months ago. if there's anything recent she deadass has nothing to do with it because why would she subject herself to the community that says the most vile things about her. (not everyone does this ofc, she just don't wanna risk seeing that)

Guys she really doesn't care what yall do with sebastian. Yes she has her preferences for certain things but why does it matter,, You're free to make your own spaces/servers where you can do what u want with sebastian she's not going to break into your house and stop you hello.

Maybe I'm not selfshipper-brained but why does canon matter at all? again you're free to ignore aspects of it and enjoy it in your own spaces. You're free to dislike her as well but I've seen death threats ramping up again and people admitting they just hate her for the fun of it.

People calling her a sans fangirl over sebastian is crazy when I know damn well she's been staying in her lane for the past few weeks. Like we've been talking about other OCs and the funny robots, sebastian who???

Again I agree that the devs need to get their shit together. Because whatever they say/do will fall on the people who are genuinely trying to fix things in the server in whatever way they can ;;

[homoquartz]

hi!! if you would like to join me in being angry, please consider this new gem of journalism bestowed upon us peasants today:

(Article link is here)

In case you doubt it, yes, that is correct. Major studios will now assemble panels of racists, homophobes, transphobes, and misogynists to dictate how much us squirming pathetic little brown queers get to be represented on screen.

They were already doing this, but now they're comfortable saying it outright. As I have said before, THIS SHOULD ALARM YOU.

This post is long so the rest is below, backed up with data:

Disney is tacitly admitting that they canceled The Acolyte because they would rather alienate their marginalized fanbase than their rabid, genocidal straight white male one. And you can be damn sure this is also why the likes of Netflix and HBO Max are so comfortable discarding highly acclaimed queer shows like Warrior Nun, Our Flag Means Death, the Owl House, and Dead Boy Detectives.

The only shows about marginalized people allowed to go on are the ones that, against all odds, become hit successes (eg Heartstopper), at which point their earning potential outweighs their sin of being brown or gay. I want to emphasize that these shows must be breakout hits - shows that perform on par with straighter, whiter releases aren't given this grace.

These companies are going to obscure the reality of their actions by talking about profits and public image, but rest assured they would find a way to justify this even if the vast majority of viewers were brown and queer. Because it's about maintaining power. It's part of a nationwide surge against inclusion.

Do you remember the IGN article that just came out that revealed Disney's insistence that Riley be made to look "less gay" in Inside Out 2?

Do you remember the Autostraddle article which crunched the numbers to show that queer shows are cancelled more often and earlier than others?

How about GLAAD's breakdown of queer shows cancelled last year? Here's a snippet of the data:

❗️Both Autostraddle and GLAAD have found that 1 in 4 queer shows are axed. This is DOUBLE the rate for streaming shows overall, which is just at 12%.

Variety has a data breakdown here. What's interesting is that Netflix is actually pretty moderate with its cancellations, yet the majority of cancelled queer shows belong to Netflix.

I had a harder time finding data for shows featuring leads of color. If anyone has links, I'll add them here.

In conclusion:

They are banning our books. They are cancelling our shows. They are silencing our stories. You know why.

You can help in a few ways. One is to stream as many cancelled shows centering POC and/or queer people as you can. Another option is to cancel your streaming subscriptions and vote with your wallet (this is what I have done).

There's also a bunch of petitions for cancelled shows I strongly recommend signing. Pick a show and google it plus "petition" and it will turn up.

You can go to Rotten Tomatoes and IMDB and 5-star your chosen shows, as well as each episode.

You can message the streaming services on social media requesting renewal. Reaching out to influencers in spheres related to this topic, as well as media outlets, is also a good idea.

Finally and most importantly, talk to your friends and family. Ask them to do something. Ask them to tell people. The more people who stand against a hateful status quo, the less powerful it becomes.

I believe this can be turned around if we make enough noise. These streaming services should revive their queer shows, market them properly, and support them like any other show.

I sound silly now, but watch this space in two years.

[lisafication]

For those who might happen across this, I'm an administrator for the forum 'Sufficient Velocity', a large old-school forum oriented around Creative Writing. I originally posted this on there (and any reference to 'here' will mean the forum), but I felt I might as well throw it up here, as well, even if I don't actually have any followers.

This week, I've been reading fanfiction on Archive of Our Own (AO3), a site run by the Organisation for Transformative Works (OTW), a non-profit. This isn't particularly exceptional, in and of itself — like many others on the site, I read a lot of fanfiction, both on Sufficient Velocity (SV) and elsewhere — however what was bizarre to me was encountering a new prefix on certain works, that of 'End OTW Racism'. While I'm sure a number of people were already familiar with this, I was not, so I looked into it.

What I found... wasn't great. And I don't think anyone involved realises that.

To summarise the details, the #EndOTWRacism campaign, of which you may find their manifesto here, is a campaign oriented towards seeing hateful or discriminatory works removed from AO3 — and believe me, there is a lot of it. To whit, they want the OTW to moderate them. A laudable goal, on the face of it — certainly, we do something similar on Sufficient Velocity with Rule 2 and, to be clear, nothing I say here is a critique of Rule 2 (or, indeed, Rule 6) on SV.

But it's not that simple, not when you're the size of Archive of Our Own. So, let's talk about the vagaries and little-known pitfalls of content moderation, particularly as it applies to digital fiction and at scale. Let's dig into some of the details — as far as credentials go, I have, unfortunately, been in moderation and/or administration on SV for about six years and this is something we have to grapple with regularly, so I would like to say I can speak with some degree of expertise on the subject.

So, what are the problems with moderating bad works from a site? Let's start with discovery— that is to say, how you find rule-breaching works in the first place. There are more-or-less two different ways to approach manual content moderation of open submissions on a digital platform: review-based and report-based (you could also call them curation-based and flag-based), with various combinations of the two. Automated content moderation isn't something I'm going to cover here — I feel I can safely assume I'm preaching to the choir when I say it's a bad idea, and if I'm not, I'll just note that the least absurd outcome we had when simulating AI moderation (mostly for the sake of an academic exercise) on SV was banning all the staff.

In a review-based system, you check someone's work and approve it to the site upon verifying that it doesn't breach your content rules. Generally pretty simple, we used to do something like it on request. Unfortunately, if you do that, it can void your safe harbour protections in the US per Myeress vs. Buzzfeed Inc. This case, if you weren't aware, is why we stopped offering content review on SV. Suffice to say, it's not really a realistic option for anyone large enough for the courts to notice, and extremely clunky and unpleasant for the users, to boot.

Report-based systems, on the other hand, are something we use today — users find works they think are in breach and alert the moderation team to their presence with a report. On SV, this works pretty well — a user or users flag a work as potentially troublesome, moderation investigate it and either action it or reject the report. Unfortunately, AO3 is not SV. I'll get into the details of that dreadful beast known as scaling later, but thankfully we do have a much better comparison point — fanfiction.net (FFN).

FFN has had two great purges over the years, with a... mixed amount of content moderation applied in between: one in 2002 when the NC-17 rating was removed, and one in 2012. Both, ostensibly, were targeted at adult content. In practice, many fics that wouldn't raise an eye on Spacebattles today or Sufficient Velocity prior to 2018 were also removed; a number of reports suggest that something as simple as having a swearword in your title or summary was enough to get you hit, even if you were a 'T' rated work. Most disturbingly of all, there are a number of — impossible to substantiate — accounts of groups such as the infamous Critics United 'mass reporting' works to trigger a strike to get them removed. I would suggest reading further on places like Fanlore if you are unfamiliar and want to know more.

Despite its flaws however, report-based moderation is more-or-less the only option, and this segues neatly into the next piece of the puzzle that is content moderation, that is to say, the rubric. How do you decide what is, and what isn't against the rules of your site?

Anyone who's complained to the staff about how vague the rules are on SV may have had this explained to them, but as that is likely not many of you, I'll summarise: the more precise and clear-cut your chosen rubric is, the more it will inevitably need to resemble a legal document — and the less readable it is to the layman. We'll return to SV for an example here: many newer users will not be aware of this, but SV used to have a much more 'line by line, clearly delineated' set of rules and... people kind of hated it! An infraction would reference 'Community Compact III.15.5' rather than Rule 3, because it was more or less written in the same manner as the Terms of Service (sans the legal terms of art). While it was a more legible rubric from a certain perspective, from the perspective of communicating expectations to the users it was inferior to our current set of rules  — even less of them read it,  and we don't have great uptake right now.

And it still wasn't really an improvement over our current set-up when it comes to 'moderation consistency'. Even without getting into the nuts and bolts of "how do you define a racist work in a way that does not, at any point, say words to the effect of 'I know it when I see it'" — which is itself very, very difficult don't get me wrong I'm not dismissing this — you are stuck with finding an appropriate footing between a spectrum of 'the US penal code' and 'don't be a dick' as your rubric. Going for the penal code side doesn't help nearly as much as you might expect with moderation consistency, either — no matter what, you will never have a 100% correct call rate. You have the impossible task of writing a rubric that is easy for users to comprehend, extremely clear for moderation and capable of cleanly defining what is and what isn't racist without relying on moderator judgement, something which you cannot trust when operating at scale.

Speaking of scale, it's time to move on to the third prong — and the last covered in this ramble, which is more of a brief overview than anything truly in-depth — which is resources. Moderation is not a magic wand, you can't conjure it out of nowhere: you need to spend an enormous amount of time, effort and money on building, training and equipping a moderation staff, even a volunteer one, and it is far, far from an instant process. Our most recent tranche of moderators spent several months in training and it will likely be some months more before they're fully comfortable in the role — and that's with a relatively robust bureaucracy and a number of highly experienced mentors supporting them, something that is not going to be available to a new moderation branch with little to no experience. Beyond that, there's the matter of sheer numbers.

Combining both moderation and arbitration — because for volunteer staff, pure moderation is in actuality less efficient in my eyes, for a variety of reasons beyond the scope of this post, but we'll treat it as if they're both just 'moderators' — SV presently has 34 dedicated moderation volunteers. SV hosts ~785 million words of creative writing.

AO3 hosts ~32 billion.

These are some very rough and simplified figures, but if you completely ignore all the usual problems of scaling manpower in a business (or pseudo-business), such as (but not limited to) geometrically increasing bureaucratic complexity and administrative burden, along with all the particular issues of volunteer moderation... AO3 would still need well over one thousand volunteer moderators to be able to match SV's moderator-to-creative-wordcount ratio.

Paid moderation, of course, you can get away with less — my estimate is that you could fully moderate SV with, at best, ~8 full-time moderators, still ignoring administrative burden above the level of team leader. This leaves AO3 only needing a much more modest ~350 moderators. At the US minimum wage of ~$15k p.a. — which is, in my eyes, deeply unethical to pay moderators as full-time moderation is an intensely gruelling role with extremely high rates of PTSD and other stress-related conditions — that is approximately ~$5.25m p.a. costs on moderator wages. Their average annual budget is a bit over $500k.

So, that's obviously not on the table, and we return to volunteer staffing. Which... let's examine that scenario and the questions it leaves us with, as our conclusion.

Let's say, through some miracle, AO3 succeeds in finding those hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of volunteer moderators. We'll even say none of them are malicious actors or sufficiently incompetent as to be indistinguishable, and that they manage to replicate something on the level of or superior to our moderation tooling near-instantly at no cost. We still have several questions to be answered:

How are you maintaining consistency? Have you managed to define racism to the point that moderator judgment no longer enters the equation? And to be clear, you cannot allow moderator judgment to be a significant decision maker at this scale, or you will end with absurd results.

How are you handling staff mental health? Some reading on the matter, to save me a lengthy and unrelated explanation of some of the steps involved in ensuring mental health for commercial-scale content moderators.

How are you handling your failures? No moderation in the world has ever succeeded in a 100% accuracy rate, what are you doing about that?

Using report-based discovery, how are you preventing 'report brigading', such as the theories surrounding Critics United mentioned above? It is a natural human response to take into account the amount and severity of feedback. While SV moderators are well trained on the matter, the rare times something is receiving enough reports to potentially be classified as a 'brigade' on that scale will nearly always be escalated to administration, something completely infeasible at (you're learning to hate this word, I'm sure) scale.

How are you communicating expectations to your user base? If you're relying on a flag-based system, your users' understanding of the rules is a critical facet of your moderation system — how have you managed to make them legible to a layman while still managing to somehow 'truly' define racism?

How are you managing over one thousand moderators? Like even beyond all the concerns with consistency, how are you keeping track of that many moving parts as a volunteer organisation without dozens or even hundreds of professional managers? I've ignored the scaling administrative burden up until now, but it has to be addressed in reality.

What are you doing to sweep through your archives? SV is more-or-less on-top of 'old' works as far as rule-breaking goes, with the occasional forgotten tidbit popping up every 18 months or so — and that's what we're extrapolating from. These thousand-plus moderators are mostly going to be addressing current or near-current content, are you going to spin up that many again to comb through the 32 billion words already posted?

I could go on for a fair bit here, but this has already stretched out to over two thousand words.

I think the people behind this movement have their hearts in the right place and the sentiment is laudable, but in practice it is simply 'won't someone think of the children' in a funny hat. It cannot be done.

Even if you could somehow meet the bare minimum thresholds, you are simply not going to manage a ruleset of sufficient clarity so as to prevent a much-worse repeat of the 2012 FF.net massacre, you are not going to be able to manage a moderation staff of that size and you are not going to be able to ensure a coherent understanding among all your users (we haven't managed that after nearly ten years and a much smaller and more engaged userbase). There's a serious number of other issues I haven't covered here as well, as this really is just an attempt at giving some insight into the sheer number of moving parts behind content moderation:  the movement wants off-site content to be policed which isn't so much its own barrel of fish as it is its own barrel of Cthulhu; AO3 is far from English-only and would in actuality need moderators for almost every language it supports — and most damning of all,  if Section 230 is wiped out by the Supreme Court  it is not unlikely that engaging in content moderation at all could simply see AO3 shut down.

As sucky as it seems, the current status quo really is the best situation possible. Sorry about that.