cortexangel

inkblooded/p> theory fetishist

[warcrimepervert]

I feel likesomeones orphaned fanfiction

[cortexangel]

[ohpooraileen]

jodi and aileen are some of the most perfect examples of the imperfect victim

no one believes women: let alone ones that fight back, let alone ones with mental illnesses, let alone ones who don’t have evidence besides their word.

people don’t believe them because they actually stood their ground and gave back exactly what they were given. they didn’t pose a danger to anyone else besides the men who harmed them.

[petmotel]

ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁

[cortexangel]

oh my god

[cortexangel]

I’ve been thinking about joining a cult and domming the cult leader.

[cortexangel]

Nothing Monstorous

Cruelty survived easiest when spoken softly. A bruised woman became a misunderstanding; a frightened girl, hysterical. Men passed violence between themselves in clean white gloves, and the room nodded along because monsters never arrived looking monstrous. They came groomed and grinning, holding doors open with the same hands that left bruises blooming blue against skin. And if I recoiled, they called me sensitive — as though the wound itself were forgivable, but speaking of it spoiled the evening.

But predators discover fear quickly when the prey grows fangs. The room fell quiet the first time I bared mine. Suddenly everyone spoke of kindness, of fairness, of injured wolves. What about the bitten? they cried, ignoring the graveyard beneath their feet. And I wondered if tenderness had always been reserved for those holding the knife.

[pnglove]

[cortexangel]

purity culture is killing media literacy and honestly it feels biblical.

there’s this creeping rot in how people talk about stories. it’s like watching ivy strangle an old house — something once alive, curious, sprawling, now choked into shape by fear of being wrong. everyone wants to be good. pristine. unblemished by association. but stories have never been clean. stories are filth and blood and longing and the smell of the grave. they are the one place where you can hold a knife without consequence — and somehow we’ve decided that even pretending to touch the blade makes you evil.

i scroll through fandom spaces and see children performing sainthood. writing manifestos about how their favorite character’s crimes are actually justified, because they’ve forgotten they don’t need to be. because god forbid they love something tainted. it’s like we’re dragging the confessional into the comment section. “forgive me, followers, for i have sinned — i enjoyed problematic media.”

purity culture has resurrected itself, wearing the language of progress like a veil. “we just want accountability,” it whispers, but underneath it’s the same old sermon: be pure or be cast out. it makes art into a morality test. it turns curiosity into contamination.

people used to know that you could stare into darkness and come back changed, but not damned. now we’ve decided the act of looking is itself a sin. and it’s so… boring. so small. so scared.

fiction is supposed to haunt you. it’s supposed to leave a mark. that’s how you know it’s alive.

anyway, purity culture is killing media literacy — and it’s doing it with a smile that smells like holy water and bleach.