You are still going to be here after the change. If your characters and relationships you’ve made on this shit storm of a site, is too important to abandon.
no matter how many times i hear “i love you”, “i’m not going to abandon you”, “i’m not going anywhere” i’m still so fucking scared of being abandoned
My “official” comments on this website’s new censorship policy:
–Obviously this is problematic for a number of different unfairly targeted parts of the userbase, and I find that objectionable.
–It is of particular concern to me that the promises of “better, more positive” experience have historical precedent as a smokescreen over targeting the LGBT community and people who do not practice evangelical Christian abstinence culture, and really have absolutely nothing to do with protecting minors.
–It is of particular concern to me, in fact, that this website has done nothing to actually protect minors before now, nor to purge fascist/white supremacist blogs.
What I will be doing:
–I will be WAITING to see what happens after December 17. I don’t believe any of us can make level-headed judgments until we see this (highly questionable) new community standard in praxis. After that point, I will be considering the following actions:
–I do NOT think Pillowfort is a viable alternative at the present time. Maybe in the future, if and when they work out the kinks of their site, and remove the membership fee that I cannot afford. It is not an option FOR ME, at the present time.
–I DO have a Discord and mutuals may feel free to ask for it. I do not use it often, but I am willing to try to change this habit, since it seems like it’s the direction most people are headed for instant messaging rp.
–I DO have an artTwitter and mutuals may feel free to ask for it. Ditto for deviantART.
–I will be backing this blog up to WordPress.
–I AM willing to create a Dreamwidth account if this situation worsens. If I do, I will let people know here.
“You are the Doctor, comprised of morning sunlight and babies’ laughter, and yes, despite this, I know that you could knee me in the nuts, drop me hard, and snap my neck if you still had the inclination. It is a fact, and I impenitently confess that i find it desperately sexy.”
There was something about the way he was speaking to her. The mere look on his face. Something about that told her that he was being serious and that her own words had surprised him. However, the fact remained that this wasn’t what she was accustomed to. Something had changed about him.
“Well I don’t mind, really, you’ve just managed to catch me off guard.” The Doctor said before chuckling a little, “Something seems different about you? What is it?”
The Doctor moved closer to him, at first reading his face. Maybe Missy had rubbed off on him? The malice wasn’t there, at least not to the extent it always before. Instead it look like he cared. The look of the friend she had always cared for, maybe even more than that..
Yes, Missy’s rubbed off on him, but in an unanticipated way.
To be so undesired that even your own descendant self would hasten your regeneration … it jettisoned him into a place of dark melancholy, and self-loathing. And it sent him–ever the dogged survivor–on a frantic quest to find a Doctor, any Doctor, who had not yet given up hope, and consigned him to a place firmly in the past.
Koschei hopes to have found her, but her tepid reception, her skepticism, give him pause. His cheeks flare red, with sudden mortification.
“Maybe this was always a part of me, Thete. But I needed some time at your side, without the conditions of feigned imprisonment, to learn another … . venue, another way … . to govern myself.”
He swallows, audibly.
“I thought I might give that a go now, with you. Was this a mistake?”
After the adventure with… the thing, Graham needs to decompress. It affected them all, this one, but no one more than him. And rather than find the Doc or Ryan or Yasmin, he seeks probably the least likely person: the Master.
He doesn’t say anything right away, doesn’t even know what to say, he just sits down next to him, silently looking at his hands.
The Master says nothing, and has at least the social acuity to know not to stare. So the mercurial scientific prodigy imitates the quiet, no-nonsense bus driver’s exact stance, and waits.
At length, he smiles, and the bitterness is actually not nearly so pronounced as the grief. So perhaps, despite being an intergalactic criminal genius versus an everyman, they are exactly the same person in this moment.
“You think we’re alike … . because we both have a ‘her’ in our lives whose light is indescribable. Yes? But, hhhhah. Graham, I AM the Solitract, to the Doctor’s Universe. The time will come, if it hasn’t already … when she finally sheds me completely, and I’ll have to tell her, too, ‘I will dream of you out there without me.’”
He does regard Graham, now, with muted suffering.
“Your Grace might not be here in tangible form, but she would never have had to willingly leave you. You’re not corrosive and clinging. You’re good. Take refuge in that.”
Icarus 