#…so why does anti not have any shoes??

[a-hypnos-v]

Wasn’t able to attend the stream, but still kind of know what’s going on but like…

Why are they shoeless?-

[jewreallythinkthat]

One of the reasons I think there has been such a breakdown between the "progressive" left and the Jewish community is actually something that I've watched before fostered in left wing spaces for well over a decade and that is looking for offence.

When someone says something antisemitic, that does not mean they are an antisemite. I remember when the BLM marches took place, people rightly pointed out that there is a lot of unconscious bias against PoC and that being called out for eating something you didn't realise was problematic does not mean you are actually racist, just that you need to think a bit more when talking about a subject which in many cases, doesn't affect you as such. The same principle should apply to antisemitism.

If I say someone has said something antisemitic, their first reaction (on the left wing - because the right will proudly nod that yes, it was antisemitic) is often "you're calling me an antisemite and trying to silence me, Zionist". This is not true. What I am saying is that you are saying something that is discriminatory, invoked blood libel, accused Jews of ruling the world etc etc. I fully believe most people do not realise they are doing this. The point of dog whistles is that you are not supposed to recognise them, that's how they propagate. Anti-jewish racism is one of the oldest forms of hatred and it stretches back multiple millennia so it makes sense that it's literally inside the common vernacular. That doesn't mean everyone using it is an antisemite.

Instead of immidiately jumping to the defensive, I wish people would take a moment to ask, in good faith, "why would a Jewish person find this antisemitic?" Take the opportunity to learn, to better themself. Do not assume every Jew is trying to silence you - assuming the worst every time of Jewish people is a type of antisemitism so please try and put yourself in their shoes and maybe even ask them to explain so you can do better in the future.

Just a general overview, here's a couple of ones to look out for (a non exhaustive list).

1. Replace the word "Zionist" in what has Ben said with "Jew". If it sounds like something leeched out of Nazi Germanh or the Soviet Union, it's probably going to be antisemitism.

2. Saying you don't think any country should exist but focusing exclusively on the destruction of Israel. The only thing that makes Israel unique is that it's a Jewish majority country. So why is that the only county you actively want to get rid of?

2.1 Holding Israel to a higher standard than any other country is antisemitic as laid out above in point 2.

3. Assuming the worst of Jews and Israel every time is antisemitism. It's no different to assuming Black people are always out to get you or all Muslims are terrorists. If it's racist to do this to one minority group, it is racist to do it to any.

4. Tokenizing extremists in a community (Ben Gvir and the West Bank settlers on the right wing in Israel, the Neturi Karta by the progressive left when discussing I/P) is racist. If you only listen to Jews who prove your point, you are actively excluding the majority of a community so you can beat them down, this is racist.

I don't like calling people antisemitic because most people are not actually that, what they are is uneducated on antisemetism because the majority of that education is not being done by Jews - let alone Jews who represent the majority of the community.

But if you refuse to talk to Jews in good faith when they try to explain why what you have said is antisemitic, you are running the risk of moving from "ignorant user of antisemetic language" to "antisemite" (also a note, ignorant not meaning stupid but rather that you do not know something).

[nonpracticinghumanbeing]

Izzy IS about community. He’s ALWAYS BEEN about community in his own messed up way. The Canyon was right and the haters were wrong.

He wanted Blackbeard back because that was what kept the crew safe. He was terrible about it and hurt the man he obviously loves in the process, but it WAS for the greater good. It wasn’t a purely selfish act the antis love to frame it as. He wanted to feel safe again and he wanted the crew to be safe as well.

Hell, he was doing his best to help Edward through his post-breakup depression. He didn’t understand what was going on and was clearly distressed by it but he provided what Ed needed. He *knew* he lacked the emotional capacity to help his captain himself so he agreed to bring him Lucius. I really think he would have just gritted his teeth and suffered through it if Ed didn’t say the one thing that could collapse his whole world.

"Why do we even bother being pirates?" That was what freaked Izzy out so much that he pushed Edward to violence. Not because he selfishly wanted Ed to be close at all times but because Blackbeard the legend was the pillar of his community. That legend kept everyone safe and even if Izzy is a horrible asshole, he *does* care about his crew. He knows the world is a horrible hostile place and he focuses on risk mitigation, even if it means hurting the one person he really cares about.

He really tried to provide that to the crew when Edward and Stede took the Act of Grace. It was a terribly misguided attempt at keeping things under control and it was certainly influenced by his submissive tendencies which make him crave structure and feel safe within hierarchies. He *knows* he lacks Ed's charisma and ability to think outside the box and with such huge shoes to fill it's not really surprising he acted out in anger and in result failed miserably. But he was *NEVER* an asshole just for the sake of it.

Now he realizes those days are gone for good. He's already done everything he could to bring Ed back to his senses, including using *Stede fuckin' Bonnet’s* name. It didn’t work. The realization that his one true safeguard is really gone must be terrible, but it also pushes him to take action.

The moment he realizes the crew are in real danger, he takes things into his own hands. He not only goes against the hierarchy he believed to be sacred but also against the man he *LOVES*. He fucking shoots his beloved captain to save the crew. You don’t get much more *community* than that.

He is clearly struggling. He's just tried to fucking kill himself after being maimed AND told he was disposable by a man whom he's apparently served for dacades. He will have to reevaluate his whole life and he *knows* it. But he puts it all to the side and he does what needs to be done. He took all of Edward’s abuse without complaint it seems but the moment the crew are in real danger, he intervenes. You can’t tell me a community (*any* community) doesn’t need people like that.

It all feels very old-time queer to me. The willingness to make terrible sacrifices to protect one's space. The decision (conscious or not) to be effective rather than liked. The choice to stay alive despite terrible heartbreak and go on fighting.

He's absolutely NOT an irredimable villain. He’s an asshole who tries to keep his little world safe. He’s Larry Kramer getting kicked out of GMHC for being too confrontational and politically incorrect to be palatable to the general public.

[zedecksiew]

How To Play The Revolution

So: I do not like the idea of TTRPGs making formal mechanics designed to incentivise ethical play.

But, to be honest, I do not like the idea of any single game pushing any particular formal mechanics about ethical play at all.

So here I am, trying to think through the reasons why, and proposing a solution. (Sort of. A procedure, really.)

+

Assumptions:

1.

Some genres of game resist ethical play. A grand strategy game dehumanises people into census data. The fun of a shooter is violence. This is truest in videogames, but applies to tabletop games also.

Games can question their own ethics, to an extent. Terra Nil is an anti-city-builder. But it is a management game at heart, so may elide critiques of "efficiency = virtue".

Not all games should try to design for ethical play. I believe games that incentivise "bad" behaviour have a lot to teach us about those behaviours, if you approach them with eyes open.

2.

The systems that currently govern our real lives are terrible: oligarchy, profit motive; patriarchy, nation-states, ethno-centrisms. They fuel our problems: class and sectarian strife, destruction of climate and people, spiritual desertification.

They are so total that the aspiration to ethical behaviour is subsumed by their logics. See: social enterprise; corpos and occupying forces flying rainbow flags; etc.

Nowadays, when I hear "ethical", I don't hear "we remember to be decent". I hear "we must work to be better". Good ethics is radical transformation.

3.

If a videogame shooter crosses a line for you, your only real response is to stop playing. This is true for other mechanically-bounded games, like CCGs or boardgames.

In TTRPGs, players have the innate capability to act as their own referees. (even in GM-ed games adjudications are / should be by consensus.) If you don't like certain aspects of a game, you could avoid it---but also you could change it.

Only in TTRPGs can you ditch basic rules of the game and keep playing.

+

So:

D&D's rules are an engine for accumulation: more levels, more power, more stuff, more numbers going up.

If you build a subsystem in D&D for egalitarian action, but have to quantify it in ways legible to the game's other mechanical parts---what does that mean? Is your radical aspiration feeding into / providing cover for the game's underlying logics of accumulation?

At the very least it feels unsatisfactory---"non-representative of what critique / revolution entails as a rupture," to quote Marcia, in conversations we've been having around this subject, over on Discord.

How do we imagine and represent rupture, to the extent that the word "revolution" evokes?

My proposal: we rupture the game.

+++

How To Play The Revolution

Over the course of play, your player-characters have decided to begin a revolution:

An armed struggle against an invader; overturning a feudal hierarchy; a community-wide decision to abandon the silver standard.

So:

Toss out your rule book and sheets.

And then:

Keep playing.

You already know who your characters are: how they prefer to act; what they are capable of; how well they might do at certain tasks; what their context is. You and your group are quite capable of improv-ing what happens next.

Of course, this might be unsatisfactory; you are here to play a TTRPG, after all. Structures are fun. Therefore:

Decide what the rules of your game will be, going forward.

Which rules you want to keep. Which you want to discard. Jury-rig different bits from different games. Shoe-horn a tarot deck into a map-making game---play that. Be as comprehensive or as freeform as you like. Patchwork and house-rule the mechanics of your new reality.

The god designer will not lead you to the revolution. You broke the tyranny of their design. You will lead yourself. You, as a group, together. The revolution is DIY.

+++

Notes:

This is mostly a thought experiment into a personal obsession. I am genuinely tempted to write a ruleset just so I can stick the above bit into it as a codified procedure.

I am tickled to imagine how the way this works may mirror the ways revolutions have played out in history.

A group might already have alternative ruleset in mind, that they want to replace the old ruleset with wholesale. A vanguard for their preferred system.

Things could happen piecemeal, progressively. Abandon fiat currency and a game's equipment price list. Adopt pacifism and replace the combat system with an alternative resolution mechanic. As contradictions pile up, do you continue, or revert?

Discover that the shift is too uncomfortable, too unpredictable, and default back to more familiar rules. The old order reacting, reasserting itself.

+

I keep returning to this damn idea, of players crossing thresholds between rulesets through the course of play. The Revolution is a rupture of ethical reality like Faerie or the Zone is a rupture in geography.

But writing all this down is primarily spurred by this post from Sofinho talking about his game PARIAH and the idea that "switching games/systems mid-session" is an opportunity to explore different lives and ethics:

Granted this is not an original conceit (I'm not claiming to have done anything not already explored by Plato or Zhuangzi) but I think it's a fun possibility to present to your players: dropping into a parallel nightmare realm where their characters can lead different lives and chase different goals.

+

Jay Dragon tells me she is already exploring this idea in a new game, Seven Part Pact:

"the game mechanics are downright oppressive but also present the capacity to sunder them utterly, so the only way to behave ethically is to reject the rules of the game and build something new."

VINDICATION! If other designers are also thinking along these lines this means the idea isn't dumb and I'm not alone!

+++

( Images:

https://forum.paradoxplaza.com/forum/developer-diary/victoria-3-dev-diary-23-fronts-and-generals.1497106/

https://www.thestranger.com/race/2017/04/05/25059127/if-you-give-a-cop-a-pepsi

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/WarGames

https://nobonzo.com/

https://pangroksulap.com/about/ )

[qyxzun]

𝟓┆𝕳𝐎𝐌𝐄.

❝𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐔𝐏,❞ the prowler grumbled behind his mask with a distorted voice as he slung a hook across the city's highway. He ran and leaped from the high distance before he pulled himself above the many cars from below. Miles followed behind him, his webs constantly leaving his wrists while he aimed and propelled himself in his direction.

He watched how the prowler expeditiously swung through building from building with agility despite the thick fog that started to settle in from the rain. Miles looked down to catch a glimpse of the scenery yet what he saw made him realize how this dimension and his contrasted. The numerous policemen were all over the place, but they couldn't provide the same protection as a spider-man could. It made him realize how important such an individual like himself or any spider-variant was. But if Miles had to describe Earth 42 in one word, he'd call it dystopian.

"Sooo, how far away until-?" Miles inquired until his counterpart interrupted him already, flitting faster in the air like it was a race"

"Few more minutes inquieto. (restless)" Miles G. voiced as he jumped down the building despite the extreme heights. The spider-man only sighed as he watched his twin surprisingly already ahead of him.

He persuaded him further until they reached close to an area where light didn't shine. The two Miles landed on top of a rusty tower crane as they observed their surroundings. The darkness obscured Miles' view but upon further observation, he could make out a complex building of considerable size - bigger than a baseball field. The fences were wired poorly with no sign of a main entrance and multiple banners with warnings to leave were plastered everywhere, which left Miles a weird feeling down his gut.

"This was the Alcemax," Miles G. voiced before his mask distorted, probably because of the rain. Miles looked back at him, confused.

"Why does it look abandoned?" He asked curiously. His response took a while, making his suspicions grow when he saw his twin's visage. It was indecipherable yet all he did was look and stare down on the dark Alchemax.

"I destroyed its collider. It caused a meltdown." Miles G. responded with a low tone before the curly-haired teen's eyes rose in astonishment from such news.

"How the hell did you destroy a collider all by yourself?" Miles questioned, perplexed and surprised by such a response. He watched how his stern expression turned slightly softer. "No goober or anything at all?" Miles G. looked back at him, returning his look of confusion with a slightly stern expression. The spider-man's question made him look like a fool thanks to his words, guess only spider-people knew what a goober meant...

"Didn't do it alone. Y/N helped me," the prowler retorted with a sullen tone before he huffed. "She was so smart.. fine too," he rambled like a fool in love while Miles continued to listen. The rain still cast down on the two, but it didn't seem to bother them.

"She told me how to shut it down, but guess I was just too aggressive with that damn collider, not that I ever liked it anyway," The prowler's glum face hardened more before his mask glitched back.

"Let's go," He said before launching himself off the tower crane and leaping midair towards the abandoned Alchemax. Miles hastily followed, his webs firmly pulling him behind the anti-hero. The breezy air through the night easily got Miles to swing with no worry, yet it gawked him to see his twin advance with precision and speed. His equipment and boosters must have helped him glide recklessly but competently through the wind. Either way, his talent was worth praise.

They both landed on the dirty rooftop, their shoes clicking on the broken floors and the displeasing mud created by the rain. Miles G. advanced further with his twin behind him before they reached a malfunctioning door. The texture was smooth and clean if it weren't for the grime and squalor it presented. The prowler easily opened it while Miles followed along inside the dark edifice, the barrier behind them closing as it created a loud thud. He assumed he'd be seeing nothing but pitch-black until he noted how the lights flickered, creating a path to follow despite the anxiety it could impose on an unlucky person who could wander inside. Then again, who would come here?

The place looked ghastly and left an ominous aura that would leave others a sense of foreboding. The prowler appeared unperturbed and continued forward, he must've had doleful memories upon entering here since he mentioned you again. But then again, he was the one who came up with the idea to venture inside.

Miles was probably overthinking, it wasn't his business to pry into his other version's past. He was just curious of course, you could say he was looking out for himself.

They stopped in front of another broken entryway. The spider-man wondered what could be behind the secure entrance before his wonders were answered when the prowler suddenly slashed the wired board beside them. The door automatically malfunctioned yet slowly divided, letting the two look-alikes pass through.

The two ventured further as Miles could recognize more grubby machines and equipment. The deeper they went, the less often the lights flickered. While descending, he felt the air become more chilly and as the two entered another room, he recognized the discarded documents that were scattered on the dirty tiles under the flickering lights. From what he could find, the papers depicted diagrams and reports; mostly progress about the collider or test subjects they ran on. The spoiled files must've been vital information for the scientists before this place turned for the worst and remained deserted and untouched by the people of Earth 42. If anything, the files were nothing but forgotten memories of what really happened.

No one knew the complete story behind the Alchemax's meltdown, except for Miles G. He knew it remained better that way. Who would look him in the eye anyway after he destroyed an important piece of Brooklyn that the corrupt government and KingPin funded? Who wouldn't want to kill him after he destroyed these scientists' families, all because he wanted to avenge your death? He was selfish, but he would've never forgiven himself if he had never done something, your decease would've been for naught.

You were the only one that made him believe peace was still an option in this sick unforgiven world, yet those malignant fucking scientists.. the same people you supported for the project and killed you, he'd never forgive them.

"Yo Miles!" his counterpart interrupted his train of thought before he looked up to meet his gaze behind his mask. He was a little envious to see his other version of himself slightly taller than him. When his attention was turned to Miles, he continued.

"You gotta check this out," the spider-man disappeared into another room from a two-door way after he said that. Miles G. followed him inside the eerie room, and the moment he took another step, he felt the memories flush back into his mind.

They were in the collider room, the same room where you died. If he just looked further down, he would've seen your blood stains on the debris. God forbid you'd die in a place as filthy as this. You rested in peace, in a comfortable coffin of your favourite colour the vigilante provided. The room reeked of death, some bodies were piled up behind desks, but they didn't look so harmed as the radiation must've killed them. That fact didn't make the prowler's guts churn, he'd seen more bodies than a normal teen would. On the other hand, Miles was disturbed by such a place, but he had to continue, this Alchemax was his only shot at getting home after all.

"Don't forget," Miles G. asserted as his mask fell apart once more. He had the same morose expression, while Miles looked back at him with a befuddled one. "We're saving Y/N. You leave without saving her, I'm huntin' you down." He glowered with a stoic stare.

He must've really cared for you before you died. Miles could understand, you were friends with Gwen. But after that whole fiasco with her, Peter and Miguel.. he figured you knew and lied to him like the rest of them did. Yet, why does he still appreciate how you offered to catch bad guys with him? Why does he worry about you when he barely knows you? How come his counterpart had a version of you in his dimension while he was alone? Sure, Gwen was there, but she didn't last...

Maybe if you both had more time together, you and Miles could be friends too, even if canon events separated you two.

"Still don't trust me, huh?" Miles joked before his twin's expression only hardened. He ignored his sternness as they further ventured into the ginormous test room. Behind the gargantuan glass that had already shattered, the Afro-haired teen saw the closed collider, its parts folded into each other. He didn't have to approach it to know it was dusty from how long it was unkept, as it created some tingling sensation in his nose, almost making him sneeze like he had allergies.

What he definitely didn't expect was the collider suddenly unfolding and activating. Miles' eyes widened, and he turned back to his other self. The prowler was behind a desk that was surprisingly still functioning. By the look in his eyes, he knew what he was doing but it wasn't enough to trust him. Miles rushed towards him with his webs, looking down at the electronic table with wires and buttons before looking at him.

"What's Y/N's dimensional coordinates?" Miles G. asked in a rushed tone to which Miles looked like he was utterly perplexed.

"How the hell am I supposed to know?" his eyebrow was raised as he retorted. His confused expression made the braided teen scoff.

"Aren't you her friend?" Miles G. jabbed back. It made Miles chuckle nervously. "I just met her..?" He responded to which his twin looked back at him with an "Are you serious right now" look. He grumbled and turned his mask back on. His boosters activated before he suddenly bolted like a dash through the broken glass behind the collider. "Wait f'me," the prowler asserted under his voice modulator and leaped down below the complex apparatus.

The black and red-suited hero was about to follow him yet when he turned around, the collider caught his attention. It was turned on. Miles hated betrayal and lies but with the grand machine already running, it was his chance to get out of there, to save his dad. Miles knew you were worth saving as well but he had no time left to waste, hesitation made him tap his foot against the floor. He kept glancing back and forth to see if his counterpart returned. He was taking too long.

With a conflicted sigh, Miles advanced towards the electronic desk as his fingers trailed down on the mechanisms and buttons. The collider further operated as dark matter started to appear from the formation and with that, he typed in his earth's dimensional signature. This was it, he was almost home. Just a little bit of time, and he could get out of here.

"I—Initializing co— collider.." the system announced through the speakers, its voice distorting like a broken record. Miles placed a hand on the initiator, preparing to pull on the lever for commencement.

Yet before he could even do so wrap his fingers around the trigger, a sharp pain shot through his neck from behind before his spider-senses could even get the chance to react. His spider-senses reacted late once more, causing his consciousness to slip again...

"F'r real? You were just gonna leave your twin like that?" The prowler sneered after he elbowed a nerve behind his neck, rendering him unconscious. A sardonic tone accompanied the odious glare present on his face. His animosity for the spider-man seemed to grow once he saw the collider already open with a portal to his dimension. 'He accessed it himself' He wondered.

"So much for trust and relation.." The anti-hero snarled before letting out a scoff. His hands were balled into fists yet they were careful to keep the vile of your blood safe. How did he retrieve it? Though his actions blossomed a memory and a tight feeling in his chest, Miles G. had jumped down at the bottom of the collider room earlier to reach where he had last seen your corpse. He doubted at first, but your blood was still there and surprisingly easy to liquify. Your sanguine liquid was an important key to the collider anyway.

Ignoring his passed-out identical other on the dusty floor, Miles G. entered a sequence into the commander circuit before he poured small drops of your blood on the transparent cuvette attached to the device. The black matter from the collider seemed to intensify and change as the vigilante's gloved fingers continued to type cryptic information on the malfunctioning screen, too fast to understand to the naked eye.

"Identifying the closest di—dime— mensional traces; Earth 61806N" Lights started to flicker quicker, and the ground began to shake from the frail and broken foundation below the functioning collider it was starting to create more of a mess. His mask was automatically placed before the vigilante fled at the speed of light through the broken glass to the opening portal. His calculations were never wrong, he believed— no, knew that upon entering that vortex, he would find you and reunite with you again.

Without further hesitation, Miles G. jumped into the glitching portal, an explosion muffled from his ears occurred behind. He didn't know what happened or when it occurred but he lost control of his body as all he could do was see countless stars, colours, galaxies, all impossible to count. He felt like a corpse but his consciousness was strangely still inside. He knew but didn't know what was happening. He could feel everything but nothing at the same time, what was happening? He had no clue.

The vigilante's moments stuck into infinity were short-lived when a hole was torn open in the middle of time and space. He was thrown out aggressively before his body crashed into the brick wall behind him. "joder.. eso duele, (fuck.. that hurt)" Miles G. coughed from the air that was knocked out of his body. He slowly got up, patting the dust off his clothes.

The scene was something he hadn't seen in a while; it was a city so peaceful that contrasted his own. No fires, not so much crime in the middle of the city, just normal for once. What baffled him was how he could rarely find anything Western-related. His eyes darted across the signs, all were bizarrely in Japanese. Why was he in Japan? Isn't he supposed to be on Earth 61806N? Or at least another version of Brooklyn? It was extremely fortunate he knew basic Japanese. His linguistics study sessions with you before you passed away proved to be successful.

Miles G. jumped down the tall building, leaving claw marks on walls that dropped him to an alleyway. It felt ominous and shady to a normal person but coming from someone who experienced with worst, he could care less about it. The anti-hero hid in the shadows once he heard a series of footsteps and police cars blaring in the distance, guess his first impressions were shortlived. Miles G. then peeked at the corner to see what was happening.

His perplexity didn't seem to shrink as he spotted a woman with scales, hair for live serpents and a grand tail resembling a snake. She was struggling and screaming with fury when a man bigger than her apprehended her. He dressed bizarrely, his beard and suit seemed to be on fire too. It made Miles G.'s eyes widen, how the hell isn't he affected by the flames? He could tell his grip on her was tight and secure, displaying she was a threat.

"GET OFF OF ME! YOU DAMN BASTARD HERO!!" She shrieked, her fangs showing. Miles G. watched how this supposed hero lifted her up easily, avoiding eye contact with the lady before he plastered a blindfold over her eyes. The medusa-looking woman struggled but the tall man eventually succeeded. "It's Endeavour, you low-classed villain." he hissed with a tone that didn't match the term hero at all. To say he was burning with anger might've been a fact.

Miles G.'s gaze soon left the two once he started to take her away. This place was weird, way too weird. The fact the creature and the hero's looks were normalized made the prowler uneasily out of place. Where really was he? Did he make a mistake coming here? No, of course not. He knew you were here, somewhere. He was about to walk further into the alleyway when suddenly, a large indescribable pain surged throughout his body. "Fuck—!" He grunted, almost falling down. When the pain stopped, he stumbled and leaned against the wall for support. He should've known this glitching effect would come early.

His grunt of help seemed to catch someone's attention behind him. Though Miles G. didn't possess the powers of a spider-man unlike his twin, he had some kind of danger-senses that sometimes helped him. When he turned around, he saw a man, a height that matched his own with pale hands, that stood out the most, plastered all over his upper body and his face. The vigilante doubted they were decorations after seeing how bizarre this place was. Between its fingers, his orbs were hidden behind his long, very pale cerulean-coloured tousled hair. His clothes were all wrinkled and dishevelled as if he repeatedly took them out of a hamper and refused to clean it.

"Look at this, a foreigner.. did you lose your tourist guide or something?" His hoarse voice taunted Miles G., he sounded annoyed like he just had a week's worth of bad luck. His finger crept up to his neck and began scratching, an unpleasant sound of skin ripping made the braided-teen scowl. The sound disgusted him but the fact he was picking a fight when he was just minding his own business made him realize how stupid he must be.

"What's with the hands then weirdo? You ugly behind those?" Miles G. scoffed with a pissed-off glare. He could tell from the tense silence that the light silver-haired guy was speechless by his perfect Japanese while also fuming. It didn't stop him from scratching his neck more. It didn't concern the vigilante but he was surprised he wasn't bleeding yet.

"You're as terrible as the hero society.." He sneered maliciously. "The same type of people who don't know their place, who believe they're superior.. always feeding their ego," He continued as his back curved more, both of his hands were scratching his neck like mad, so profusely. Shigaraki's nails dug deep in his flesh, why was he getting so triggered over a tourist like him? Why is he not afraid? Why the fuck was he here?! In enemy territory out of all places?!

"You're the type of people I hate the most!" Tomura snarled with disdain. He darted towards him, it felt like his body reacted without thinking straight. His animosity blinded him to rationally think before he could realize he was about to kill someone just from a few words.

All of his five fingers extended to touch this braided guy's face. But when his dry digits hit his dark skin, his eyes widened. He wasn't decaying, he wasn't dying or even groaning in pain. He was still there. What the hell was happening? Did he have an erasure quirk like that damn Eraserhead? That must've been it!

"Get your fuckin' hand off me!" His opponent yelled. Shigaraki reacted late once more as he suddenly grabbed his hand and pulled it away from his face. His grip was tight enough to break his wrist that it created a crack sound. A gut-wrenching hiss escaped Tomura's lips loudly. He didn't even get a nanosecond to realize what was happening when the figure in front of him wrapped his clawed gauntlet around the villain's throat. The fingers were sharp, they irritated and dug into Tomura's mortally wounded scratches while air couldn't enter his lungs.

Miles G. slammed his head into the brick wall, causing the building behind his capture to slightly shake. His opponent coughed and gagged, struggling in vain to punch him yet all the prowler could do was ruthlessly choke his poor throat. The anti-hero glared at him with disdain. "Shame I have'ta kill you,"

"Ku-Kurogiri! Send me away!!" Tomura wheezed, moving his head frantically in a panic frenzy. Miles G. tightened his grip further when all of a sudden, a dark violent purple fog emerged behind the choking bastard. He fell behind and disappeared but the prowler, not for one to let his victims get away, dashed inside the mysterious fog.

His shoes stumbled on the hard wooden floorboards before his gaze darted back at the light geyser-haired man gasping for air on the floor. His prowler gauntlet charged up as he began to walk over to him, ready to kill. His efforts were in vain when a sharp blade suddenly penetrated his shoulder. He let out an injured cry as the figure behind him pinned him down on the floor.

When Miles G. looked up, a tall dishevelled dark-haired man with a torn-up mask gripped the katana stuck in his shoulder. He pulled the sharp blade out with a maniacal smile and licked a drop of blood. "What the fuck? Gross..." The prowler's nose wrinkled in disgust. With a harsh kick, he sent the man flying to the brick wall before he let out a grunt of pain when he got up.

The black-haired man easily recovered but his eyes were wide open like he was shocked. 'That's strange.. my quirk didn't work...' He wondered under his breath and licked most of the blood off his katana once more. He watched how the dark-braided teen got up from the ground once more, shocking Shigaraki and himself.

"What the fuck is this.." the hero killer Stain seethed, his gaze turning to the injured Tomura.

"He's no normal fiend.." Shigaraki grunted, stumbling on the floorboards. "Ya think? Cancellation quirks are far rarer than it already is..." Stain rolled his eyes. Shigaraki winced from his broken wrist but, being the stubborn man-baby he was, tried to ignore it. When the prowler's back faced him, he rapidly bolted and placed all five of his fingers on his shoulder yet again but nothing happened.

The anti-hero grabbed his wrist from behind and threw him on the ground, creating a large gap on the floor. His claws reflected into the light before Miles G. pinned the hand-covered man down and slashed his right thumb off clean, blood spattering on the wall. Shigaraki let out a loud hiss of pain, small drops of tears forming in his eyes. He definitely couldn't use his quirk on his right hand anymore.

"I hope I'm not interrupting something.." A sudden voice appeared again. The prowler tilted his head up and saw the small monitor on top of the table bar distorting. It didn't show a face, only displaying sound. "Hm.. a new recruit, Shigaraki?" The voice answered with a calm tone.

"Fuck no." Miles G. smouldered with resentment. "Your lil' shitstain here had a problem with me, you wouldn't mind if I killed him would you?" He mocked as the voice remained silent for a few moments. A chuckle escaped the masculine voice's lips.

"How impressive, you managed to find the League of Villains' hideout and even beat my poor prodigy to a pulp. Yet instead of calling the police or other pro heroes, there's a fire in you that rages you to kill." He spoke before he continued. "What pushes you to do such a thing?"

"If all you're gonna do is yap about heroes n shit, I'm not interested," Miles G. scoffed. "You think I wanna join your stupid group? Is your head located in your ass?" He grumbled, ignoring the glitching effect that surged through his body again. It made Stain and Kurogiri's eyes widen. What the hell is happening to him?

"Hmm... a strange phenomenon indeed," He mumbled under his breath. There was a brief pause until his carefree attitude let out another chuckle. It made Miles slightly concerned how this person behind the monitor was just acting so untroubled. "Oh, you just keep getting better..." He voiced with an amused sigh.

"Another variant from another universe.. what a grand surprise, a spur of the moment indeed," The faceless man chortled, making the prowler's eyes widen in shock as well. His glitching repeated yet he could care less.

"How the fuck do y'know?" Miles G. inquired with a glare.

"Poor anomaly, with nowhere left to go and in constant pain..." the voice continued. "The study of the multiverse is indeed fascinating, to know that it is actually real has given me more opportunities." He sounded optimistic of such news yet he gave off a strong enigmatic aura despite only hearing his voice.

"If you value your life and wish to stay longer in this world, you need nothing but to stay under this roof and sojourn. After all, you must've come here with a plan. You should be thankful I'm this generous, I'll lend you my support when the time has come." He persuaded with an elusively cryptic voice. Miles G. could tell behind that monitor, he was smirking to his fullest.

The prowler moves in shadows and acts independently but without anything to support him, he'll end up caving and suffering. What other choice has this stupid voice left him? He knew it felt humiliating but he had no other choice. And with a sigh, he got off the bleeding Shigaraki and deactivated his gauntlet... for now.

"Excellent," All for Onesmirked.

"Have you tried Earth F90J?"

"What about Earth 251OL?"

"Earth 36NMA9?"

The overlapped talk from the countless spider-people in the society caused the majority of them to have a headache, yet they didn't stop. Screens, holograms, dimensional traces, DNA, they were all that these spider-variants had been using these past few hours and talking about them non-stop. The atmosphere in the spider-society used to be optimistic, and full of joy, yet they all felt on edge.

"Get every available spider-man and dispatch them to untravelled universes Lyla, I don't want a single earth unexplored!" The Latin spider-man ordered fiercely, a harsher expression present on his face. His whole body was tense and any more bad news could cause another desk to be thrown at a wall. Miguel has been hard on work the past day just to find you or that damn anomaly Miles. After he sent Gwen home with the Go Home Machine, he lost all his leads finding the two missing teens.

"Yelling at me doesn't speed up the process Mig," Lyla rolled her eyes behind her cute and pink heart-shaped glasses. Her hologram glitched away, appearing behind Margo who was looking through the Go Home Machine's archives with a semi-stressed expression. He rolled his eyes at the lyrate lifeform's attitude before he let out a groan and pinched his temple out of frustration.

Miguel needed to find you and Miles, or else it'll turn for the worst.

𝕾𝐏𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄.

[slexenskee]

Anti-Hero 1: A random scene from Gojo's childhood in MDNSY that never fit into the story proper.

Fuyumi stares up at him in stricken horror, tiny face drained of color as her gray eyes well with tears. A shattered vase lies on the ground around her bare feet. 

He’d heard the sound of glass breaking against the floor, and left his study to investigate the noise. Anger is easiest to call, fueled by his daily frustrations on his own inadequacies as a hero who cannot surpass All Might, by the quiet self-loathing he harbors for himself for dragging innocent souls into this mess. Anger at Rei, because she’s supposed to be watching the children while he’s working. At Fuyumi, for breaking a vase in the middle of the day and potentially injuring herself in an attempt to clean the house even though she knows damn well they have staff for that. 

He yells at her, even though he immediately regrets it. She’s just trying to be helpful. She didn’t mean to break the vase. Even though she’s doing things that are unnecessary, potentially dangerous ,and utterly purposeless, she didn’t do it to cause trouble. She’s frightened of him— she always is when he raises his voice. She starts sobbing uncontrollably, stammering about cleaning it up. Her noisy crying draws the attention of the entire house. 

She takes a step forward to start trying to pick up the pieces of glass with her bare hands. He shouts at her to stop moving; there are shards of glass everywhere around her and she’s not wearing shoes. He lunges towards her with his hand raised, to pick her up before she cuts up her feet. Natsuo comes barreling out onto the engawa from the living room, sees the broken vase and his sister crying, and him looming over her with his hand raised towards her and screams bloody murder. 

“Get the fuck away from her!” He shouts, hurtling towards them with the intent to— Endeavor doesn’t even know. Push him away? He barely comes up to Endeavor’s chest. And he’s cursing, too. He’s not even in double digits yet. Touya’s influence, no doubt. He clicks his tongue. What is Rei doing with them? Is she not disciplining them at all? 

“Stay where you are!” He booms back at him, loud enough to rattle the shoji screens. There’s glass all over the floor where he and Fuyumi are standing, and Natsuo is also not wearing shoes. 

“Leave her alone!” Natsuo screams back. 

The shoji screen to his right slides open. Touya sticks his head out, hair in disarray as he rubs one eye. He looks like he’d just woken up from a nap somewhere. Shouto toddles behind him, dropping his pacifier on the ground as he does so and then plops on the ground next to it to put it back in his mouth. Endeavor is disgusted. And overwhelmed. He’s never had to deal with all of his kids at once like this, all the noise and the chaos and the clashing personalities. Where the hell is Rei? Why isn’t she watching any of them? 

“Calm down, would ya, old man? It’s just a vase.” Touya yawns, looking as unimpressed with him as always. “You okay, Yumi-chan?”

Fuyumi sniffles, nodding hesitantly. 

“Don’t move, there’s glass all around you,” his eldest says, calmly, and then proceeds to ignore his own sound advice and walk directly into the hall. “I’ll go get a broom.” 

Everything about it infuriates Endeavor. The way he just ignores him, disrespects him so blatantly, doesn’t even look his way when he addresses him. They way his siblings automatically respond to him and listen to him, look to him for answers and direction— even when their father is right in front of them. 

“Stop right now boy!” He shouts at his eldest. Touya ignores him, picking his way through the glass with a graceful ease. 

The white-haired child laughs meanly at him. “Don’t tell me what to do, old man.”

That’s what makes him see red. The audacity of this child, to speak to his father that way. If Endeavor had ever tried such a thing with his own father, he’d have gotten a beating for his cheek. No matter how he shouts or disciplines him, this impudent child never respects him at all. Never gives in, never apologizes or admits wrongdoing. It infuriates Endeavor to no end, that this failure of a child that cannot ever hope to surpass him can stare at him with such baleful eyes and find him wanting. 

He charges towards him. To grab him by the scruff of his neck and lift him up before he stupidly cuts himself on the glass, and maybe none-too-gently toss him into the grass off the side of the engawa. Instead Touya’s eyes flash, and he’s ducking out of his reach with astounding speed. He crouches low and angles all his weight onto his shoulder, shoves it into Endeavor’s stomach, and vaults him right over his shoulder, through the shoji screen wall and into the koi pond outside. As he resurfaces he hears Fuyumi’s shriek, Natsuo’s delighted shout, and Touya’s uproarious laughter as he calls him some rather unflattering names. Touya stops laughing after a beat, and when Endeavor blinks pond water out of his eyes, he’s lit up yet another cigarette in the house and is staring curiously at Shouto behind him. 

“Who’s this lil’ guy?” He says, sounding surprised to see him.

“That’s… Shouto.” Fuyumi trails off. 

“Oh.” There’s some vague recognition in that tone. Touya hauls Fuyumi up and carries her back into the house proper. He drops her next to Shouto. “Well whatever. Let’s go get ice cream. Shouto too.” 

As he walks away, Endeavor can’t help but notice his feet are clean and undamaged even after all of that movement, no blood or glass to be seen. 

[greml1nb0i]

THE HAZBIN LEAKS SHOW THAT S2 WILL ONLY GET WORSE: Characters

OK so my first gripe,

Emily's song is ear bleedingly annoying. Idk who her VA is but omg, idk if she's tone deaf or if they just have her mouth directly into the mic but my gods woman. STEP BACK you are assaulting my brain with these nonstop high sopranos.

Also the literal shot of Sir P trying to kill himself cuz of how either how annoying Emily is being or the fact he misses his friend, regardless it was a WILD fucking scene to show. Suicide isn't off the table for Viv's jokes, i guess.

Speaking of Sir P, his reason for being in Hell is so fucking stupid.

How tf is being scared of Jack The Ripper a sin?! His sin is just being scared of being murdered if he spoke out.

THAT'S JUST NORMAL HUMAN BEHAVIOR, WHAT?!

I hate to break it to you Viv, but not everyone is going to act like a macho hero when they see a damned murder!! Most people fucking run and hide! Why? CUZ THEY DONT WANNA DIE! They don't want to be targeted if shit goes south.

Also what is the thought process here in making his sin being just "cowardice"?? Viv are you trying to say that people who have most def been in Sir P's shoes, [witnessing a murder] are cowards that deserve to go to hell?? What's the motive here? Am i missing something?? Is being too afraid to be murdered, a sin??

Also apparently he was sent to Heaven for "saving Cherri Bomb"

save her from what?

Last i checked, in the final ep; he just kisses her as she's about to through a bomb and then says "i love you, remember me" only to have one of the most anti climatic "deaths" in the show. She wasnt even being attacked or threatened in anyway. So where tf does the plot point of "i saved her" come in??

Also can we talk about these fuck-ass human designs for Sir P and Alastor??

I don't mind Sir P's as much as i hate Alastor's. Its the fact Viv doesnt know wtf she's doing when she makes these designs.

Sir P just looks like a generic guy. One look at him and you cannot tell what time period he's from, same goes for Alastor. They could easily be frickin neighbors in the early or late 90s but no, they're supposedly from different timelines.

Alastor iirc is from the 1940-50s, and Sir P is from the 1800s, [Jack the rippers final kill was 1863-1888]

Why, Viv, cant you do any research for the time periods YOUR characters come from??

Why do they both look like cartoon barbers; not a radio show host and not a genius inventor?? Like did you even look at the differences in fashion and culture for any of these characters?!

Men fashion from the late 1800s looked like this:

This is [white] Men's fashion in the 1940-1950s:

See Viv, their fashion styles are different and shouldn't look the same at all. Why does every character have pinstripes, if it doesnt even reflect that time period in an authentic way??

And to add a cherry on top, this is what African American men would wear in Alastor's time period:

Do you see the difference in styles Viv?

Black men were not given the same nice everyday casual wear that white men did. They often wore hand-me-downs or had to work their asses off to just afford 1 nice looking suit.

you wanna know why?? Cuz Viv, the Jim Crow laws were still in full affect til the late 60s and early 70s. They were not seen as people, black men and women were still heavily discriminated against and were even still being victims of-

[MAJOR TW FOR RACISIT STUFF]

lynching's. Alastor would feel lucky, he only got mistaken for a deer and shot; he could have, and probably did, go through much much worse in his actually living life.

Tell me you didn't do any research for your characters without telling me you didn't do any research for your characters.

TLDR; So not only is Viv using more gross jokes in her next season, but the character designs have gotten even worse.

Lmk what you want the next topic to be about, if i missed anything you would've liked mentioned here, lmk in comments or asks and i'll reply. I reply to everyone as long as you arent being a jerk.

EDIT:

I've been made away that Alastor didn't in fact live in the 1940s and 50s but the 1930s. i will say most of my points still stand, but here the men's fashion for his time period.

also that makes his radio show even more of an impossible achievement, in the 1930s majority, if not, half of the black men in America were out of work cuz of racism, discrimination and segregation, ya know, cuz the Jim Crow. White people called for African Americans to be fired from any jobs as long as there were whites out of work. Racial violence again became more common, especially in the South.

Tell me again Viv, how tf did Alastor even thrive??

[fatkish]

Weird ask but could you maybe write smthing like.. Aizawa fosters this kid who has a locked knew from previous abuse? Uses a cane to keep pressure off of it and stuff. Idk I just wanna see how he’d go about accommodating that or how he’s treat me I really hope this makes ANY sort of sense -🐶

(I hope you don’t mind 🐶anon, but I decided to make this a little less specific and made it based on readers with limited or hindered mobility.)

Aizawa x Child Reader: Mobility

It doesn’t matter how, what or why your ability to get around is hindered. Be it a issue from birth like cerebral palsy, an accident leading to the loss of limbs or some other reason, he treats it all the same

He makes sure that he pushes in his chairs so that you don’t trip on them

He makes sure that the floors are clear of anything like shoes or anything else you could trip on

If you have difficulty going up stairs then he’ll either make sure everything you need access to is on the first floor, or he’ll arrange for one of those motorized elevator chair things that take people up the stairs

If you’re wheelchair bound, then he’ll even pay to have his home remodeled or buy a new home with better accessibility accommodations

The bathroom of course has handrails to help you get up and around. The tub and shower have anti-slip mats so that you always have traction and don’t slip and fall

If you have to wear a brace of some kind or have a prosthetic, he’ll gladly help you put them on

If your condition affects your ability to reach things then he’ll make sure that everything you need is within reachable distance

He makes sure that you’re able to get into his care without any issues

If you walk with a cane then he makes sure to not move it from where you left it without warning you or left you know

If people give you a hard time for your condition (Karens) then Aizawa will gladly step in and defend you, making sure that you’re okay

He doesn’t treat you any differently than he would treat normal people, he doesn’t treat you like you’re some delicate piece of glass, although he does hold more concern for you, he trusts that you’ll ask for help when you need it

If you’re joints get sore and you need to ice them or take a bath or something, then Aizawa will happily get you the ice packs or get you some therapeutic bath salts

[pessimisticpigeonsworld]

If Nettles was white, she would be as popular as Lyanna, Brienne or Arya, and y’all know it.

She grew up a homeless orphan (which is why it’s so insulting when people try to act like she’s a freaking idiot who doesn’t know how to bathe herself yet she can tame a dragon🤦🏽‍♀️ Put most of the highborn women in her position and they wouldn’t survive a day in her shoes).

She’s the only known non-Valyrian dragonrider who claims a wild dragon. A prince who believes in Valyrian supremacy falls in love with her to the point where he’s willing to sacrifice his life for her. Nettles singlehandedly disproves the whole idea of Targaryen exceptionalism and their blood purity. She slowly earns a dragon’s trust by bringing him sheep, and gradually he lets her closer, and then forms the dragonrider bond and lets her fly. up until this point, nobody had tried a strategy like that before.

Nettles is self-made. She’s self-taught. She’s loved for herself. She survives a freaking war and becomes a fire goddess/witch. Who wouldn’t want her ? Who wouldn’t want to be her ? Unlike Rhaenyra and Alicent, she’s the final girl of F&B.

Once again, I don't understand where you got that I'm anti Nettles? I'm anti Nettles x Daemon, but other than that theory, I very much am a fan of Nettles as a character. I won't say that there isn't racism and unfairness that happen regarding Nettles' character (though I haven't seen it personally), because people can be really shitty. But me personally, again, I'm not anti Nettles, I just dislike certain groups of her stans.

Again, I don't deny that Nettles was a strong woman. She endured many things most characters in F&B don't and most likely survived the Dance. However, I do disagree with some of the ideas you're stating as fact.

For starters, we don't know if Nettles is non-Valyrian; that's one of the many theories surrounding her, but it's not confirmed, so stating it as fact is misleading. Just because she lacks traditional Valyrian features doesn't means she isn't a dragonseed.

Jace and his brothers don't look Valyrian but they very obviously are of Valyrian descent. Rhaenys, the queen who never was, had black hair; Duncan the son of Aegon V looked like his mother, Betha Blackwood; Aegor Rivers also had black hair; Baelor Breakspear had dark hair; Daeron son of Maekar had sandy brown hair; Rhaenys the daughter of Rhaegar had her mother, Elia Martell's features.

Moving on, Daemon's relationship with Nettles is ambiguous. We don't know if they were in a romantic relationship or if his attack on Aemond was purely to save her (though I'm sure that was part of his decision). Again, you are stating a theory you believe as fact, even though it's unconfirmed.

I'm not going to touch the whole thing of Targaryen exceptionalism, because, as I said earlier, Nettles' parentage is unconfirmed. But the whole blood purity thing still hasn't been disproven at any point of GRRM's works; they intermarried to preserve their magic blood, the magic blood still exists in ASOIAF due to the incest.

Nettles is an important character in the story of the Dance, but she isn't the "final girl" you claim she is, let alone of the whole book. There are several dragon riders who survived the Dance and thrived. Rhaena is the ancestor of the Tyrells in the main series. Aegon III is the ancestor of Daenerys, the Baratheons, any remaining Blackfyres, and possibly Jon Snow and Young Griff. Baela and Alyn are the ancestors of Aurane Waters and the Velaryons.

The book of F&B is so much more than the Dance of the Dragons. Saying that Nettles is the "final girl" of the book doesn't make any sense when she only appears in a few sections. That's like saying Alys Rivers is actually the main character of the book. Nettles disappears after the Dance and doesn't appear in any other event. She does nothing else after her disappearance and has relatively little impact on the history of Westeros post Dance.

I have absolutely no idea where you're getting the whole "fire goddess/witch" thing. However, you have already been throwing out theories and your personal biases as fact, so I don't think it matters. I'm not trying to control who your fav is, I totally understand wanting to be a certain book character. But that doesn't mean you can act like everyone else is wrong for not having the same fav as you.

It's that kind of entitlement, thinking you're better than everyone else that makes people not like Nettles stans. It's almost on par with stansas and Alicent stans. People like you project so hard onto your favs, you take any perceived insult, critique, or argument as a personal attack. It's exhausting interacting with people like you.

[historicity-was-already-taken]

Welcome New Followers Post xiv

gonna make this bullet points of Things to Know because deadlines, but hi! welcome!

-this is not a jewish identity or a jumblr blog. i am a jewish person and a holocaust historian, so my content often overlaps with those realms of tumblr

-this is first and foremost a public history blog. public history and public historians do history for the public. we're passionate about transmitting complex historical topics from the academe to the people, and we're in constant (one-sided lmao) conversation with entities such as: film writers and producers, textbook writers, government bodies, journalists, etc regarding the construction of public memory, and the responsibilities that entails

-you don't have to ask if something is ok to reblog. I appreciate the thought, but unless I turn off reblogs or specifically ask people not to engage in certain ways, you're fine, that said:

-I do see and read all tags, replies, and rbs. I consider them public, and I often respond to them as new posts. If you want to engage with me and don't want others to see, then send me an ask which includes the words "please respond privately"

-You can should disagree with me and tell me when you think I'm wrong! Now, I won't lie, years of existing as a young-appearing hyper feminine (i like skirts and bows and sparkly shoes it is what it is) female, Jewish historian have made me defensive and bitey af, and I often misread neutral tones as "coming for me" tones and respond in kind. I apologize for when/if that happens to you, and I assure that, once I realize you're not coming at me in bad faith, I will feel horribly guilty.

-There is a learning curve here. I don't have any desire to gatekeep my blog (it's the opposite tbh), but I do use high level terms which can have multiple meanings in different contexts. I actively try to avoid using impenetrable academic jargon in this space, but sometimes that jargon is the only appropriate phrasing available. In those cases, I urge you to do some research and poke around and then, if you still don't understand what I mean, DM me.

-I am a white, American woman. I am actively anti-racist, and anti-bigotry in general, but there will be times when I do or say something clueless or privileged. If you see that and you have the energy, please tell me! I want this blog to be a welcome place for all,* and I appreciate call-outs as an opportunity for (un)learning.

-Building on that, this is an anti-bigotry space which I'd like people of all demographics and identities to feel comfortable engaging with.* That said, I don't play nice when some random corner of tumblr rolls up in here and barfs their shit all over my posts.

-I am a cringe millennial. I started this blog in 2011, when I was 21, had just finished college, before I'd heard back from any graduate schools, and before I had much resembling a career. I am currently 34. It's fine. But a lot of you are in your teens and 20s and are just starting on your careers, so like, please don't negatively compare yourselves to me or get self-deprecating when/if you want to contact me. We all learn and achieve at different paces and that's ok.

-My book, The Girl Bandits of the Warsaw Ghetto, will be released in Fall 2025. Trust me I will be screaming from the rooftops and you will not miss the announcements lmao.

-If I don't reply to an ask or a DM, it's not because I hate you. There are 800 reasons why I may not reply, and none of them are personal.

and finally

-I am not your Good Leftist Anti-Zionist Jew. I am not here as a rhetorical cudgel for left-wing anti-Semites who seek out Jews with politics similar to mine to then use as a weapon against other Jewish folks. Don't fucking do it.

*That does not mean that everything I post here will make you feel comfortable. History isn't supposed to make you feel comfortable. Sometimes, it can and should make you feel actively uncomfortable, because that discomfort/cognitive dissonance means you're learning (keep your cognitive dissonance temper tantrums tf away from me, tho). It does mean that I, as an individual, want you all to feel that this is a space where you are welcome to learn and ask questions.

i tried to use bullet points to keep this short, and i failed miserably. on brand.

[aclosetfan]

I once did a "what's in their purse" writing exercise, where i just wrote for ten minutes for each girl, so I wanted to do that again, but their go-to uniforms :)

Bubbles: She would have the most creative fun with her uniforms, pushing the line of impracticability. She's opposed to matching identically with her sisters except when she gets to plan their group uniforms. Her sisters taint her creativity. Typically, her uniforms resemble magic-girl animes, like Sailor Moon. She loves a more feminine look with big waist bows and frilled accents. She wears skirts mostly or dresses, and they're hardly athletic. Her outfits are LOUD and aggressively there. She sparkles and shines with jewelry and homemade earrings, which always get tangled when she fights or is yanked off by bad guys. Her shoes are heels, strappy sandals, or sparkly converses (but Blossom usually forces her to change into closed-toed shoes). She over-dresses and knows it, but when she's covered in muck, grim, and monster guts, she feels she deserves to be a little over the top in her dressings. If she's NOT wearing something over the top, she's wearing something more boho chic. Still obnoxious, but make it more "hippy." She likes bandanas and tie-dye, which I think she can still make aggressively feminine, but sometimes, she needs to step back and go on a nature hike. If you could marry the two concepts, I feel you'd have what I picture as quintessential Bubbles. Someone in tune with nature and crystals, but also someone who shops at Claire's. A cotton candy witch with a bedazzler problem.

Blossom: Her uniforms are sleek with clean lines. She's practical to the max and professional. Compared to Bubbles, her style is minimalist. She prefers wearing skorts or athletic dresses, but never without anything underneath, for decency's sake. On occasion, she'll also wear athletic leggings, which are form-fitting but practical for combat. She wears steel-toed sneakers. Besides a ponytail, she doesn't wear any other accessories; occasionally, she may forget to take off a necklace and wear normal stud earrings. She stays away from jackets during combat but keeps a matching one around in case she gets cold or has a wardrobe malfunction. Her tops/dresses are long-sleeved athleisure wear with the occasional thumb hole. Overall, she's a modest dresser who rarely varies styles. If there was a term for it, it would be tennis player/country club golfer. It fits her active lifestyle, and often, she chooses to just wear a uniform throughout the day so she doesn't have to worry about changing. Make-up-wise, like Buttercup, she wears little to none. Not because she's anti-makeup but because she doesn't like it when she gets sweaty and it streaks. Again, practicality is key for her. If it isn't practical, it's not for Blossom, which is why she unironically sports a fanny pack for convenience. However, she may be found to have backup ponytails or a bowed scrunchie on her wrist.

Buttercup: Like Blossom, Buttercup lives in athleisure wear, except unlike Blossom, she's very casual about it. Blossom's professional, but Buttercup? We're just lucky if she remembers to wear a bra; if she does, it's a sports bra, and she may not have a shirt covering it. She's also the worst at sticking to their color coordination. Her closet is full of greens and yellow accents, but sometimes she'll show up to a fight in some weird t-shirt she got at overnight and away camp the girls went to in middle school because it was the only thing clean and beggars can't be choosers. It's not rebellious like some people think; she's just a little lazy. Her shoes consist of combat boots and tennis shoes. She likes joggers and athletic shorts and is fine with skorts. She'll wear athletic dresses if Blossom picks them out but refuses to wear what Bubbles demands they wear. She doesn't wear much jewelry unless it's a necklace/bracelet/etc, that a family member or friend gave her. She had earrings, but they've been ripped out too many times during fights for her to continue wearing them. Her jewelry is surprisingly dainty. If she gets caught in a fight wearing makeup, she goes heavy on eye makeup but less on lipstick and blush. Very punk. But for the most part, she skips over it because she accidentally rubs it off throughout the day. Hair accessories consist of ponytails if her hair is long enough and bandanas/headbands she steals from Bubbles. She's an incredibly casual jock with punk undertones.

I totally think all three girls would wear knee or elbow braces, especially if they've had prior injuries.

[wheresmymilliondollarman]

zia, could I request an aaron warner x reader where he kills a spider for you 😪

I LOVE THIS REQUEST SM😭😭 i HATE bugs so i scream if i see many esp spiders ☹️☹️ had to do this immediately TYSM FOR THE SEND EIR 🫶🩷

this is a drabble hope thats ok🤞🤞 (is 1.1k a drabble….)

tw: spider stuff, and anti-spider themes🕷��🕷️

aaron warner doesn’t sleep peacefully. — or at least he didn’t, until he met you. now every night by your side is enough to have him sleeping soundly.

or it usually has him sleeping soundly when you don’t wake him up with your screeches.

“aaron! help!"

aaron is jump started awake at the sound of your distress. he look to your aide, you weren’t in bed. his first instinct was to grab the pistol he kept in the drawer of his night stand, and assess the scene for danger.

“aaron, please come quick!”

as soon as he locates your voice, aaron is charging into his office. he slams the door open and thrust his gun forward, expecting the worse; someone hurting you, an intruder, or you were brutally injured.

but it was none of the above. because low and behold, there you were — standing on top of his desk chair screaming for your life, pointing at something on the surface of his desk.

he’s so bewildered it takes him a good second to process what the hell is going on. in his vision, he didn’t see anything or anyone that could be described as dangerous or potentially life threatening to you.

he lowered his gun, “love, what’s going on?” his voice has both concern and confusion.

you snap your head toward him, relieved to see he finally woke up and arrived in the office. but then your face shifts to a look of distress, remembering the whole reason you screamed bloody murder.

“aaron! you’re finally here!” you cry out relieved.

“is…is this a joke?” he genuinely does not understand the source of your distress.

you scowl, “is your girlfriend being in danger a joke to you?”

“i’m not seeing any danger here, love.”

“are you blind? there's a spider on your desk! kill it quick!”

aaron waltzes over to his desk, next to you, who is standing on the chair freaking out and pointing. he follows your line of vision, and it takes him a moment, but then he sees it. it’s a harmless little spider, about an inch or a little more big.

he can’t help but grin at your dramatics. you woke him up out of bed, just to kill a spider.

“it’s not funny.”

“no, no, you’re right. it’s not funny, sweetheart.” his face opposes his statement. he’s holding back a chuckle, badly covering it by pretending to wipe his face.

aaron can’t help himself; he lets out a deep chuckle. he found it absolutely amusing that you were so distressed over a mere insect. he knew he should take your fear more seriously, but you looked too adorable when you freaked out.

“oh my god!” you squeal, “it’s moving, kill it now! use your shoe or something!”

“i’m not wearing shoes. you pulled me straight out of bed with your commotion, remember?”

“fetch one of your shoes!” you state like it’s the most obvious thing.

aaron frowns, he looks almost offended, "i refuse to use one of my costly shoes to squash a bug."

you groan, “then shoot at it for all i care!” you snap at him, waving your arms sporadically.

aaron rolls his eyes at your dramatics. he was not willing to shoot holes through his vintage wooden desk for the purpose of killing a spider.

“how about i just capture it, then let it go free outside.” aaron compromises.

you gape at him, “so it can lay more spider babies?” you say as if it was blasphemy.

your boyfriend shrugs, “or i could leave it. i mean, it’s not doing any harm, why should i remove it?” aaron says with a teasing voice.

your eyes widen, “no, no!" you quickly wave your hands to stop him.

"okay, fine, just get rid of it, quick!” you relent, deciding it was better than leaving the spider in the office.

he nods, then scans the room for a jar. he finds one that he uses for pens, and swiftly empties its contents on another surface. he grabs a paper then takes long steps to stand next to you.

aaron crouches down a little to get a better look at the spider. he acts like a predator about to pounce on its prey. you can’t even bare to look anymore, you cover your eyes with your eyes. in one move the makes his attack and traps the spider into the glass.

you peak out through your fingers and see aaron has got the little critter. you shiver as you see it move around the glass, realizing its trapped. you can’t stare at it too long before you get grossed out, so you cover your eyes again.

aaron uses the paper he grabbed to slide it under the jar, along with the spider. once he has it, he quickly flips the jar over, and continues covering the top with the paper. the beast itsy bitsy spider was captured.

once you saw he was contained, you let out a sigh of relief, much more calm now that aaron has got it.

aaron turns toward you with the spider jar in hand. “see, this little guy won’t hurt you.” he then brings the jar closer to your face.

you shriek, trying to back away, almost offing off the chair in the process, “get it away!”

aaron laughs, reaching one hand on your wrist to stop you from losing balance, “okay i’ll release this guy outside so he doesn’t bother you anymore. but first get off that chair before you hurt yourself.”

you roll your eyes but do as he says. aaron’s using one strong arm to wrap around your waist and bring you down. always the gentleman when it came to you.

you start shoving his chest, “ok, ok, now seriously get rid of that thing. make sure you go far.” you articulate to him. you did not want that ugly thing coming back.

now aaron is the one rolling his eyes, nodding that he understands and will make sure to do so. then he leaves out the door with the spider jar.

outside, aaron made a good distance from the base, hitting part of the woody area that surrounded it. he finds a rocky area before he kneels down on one knee, setting the jar down.

he turns the jar upside-down and removes the paper. — but he doesn’t lift the jar just yet.

“apologies for this, but can’t let you go crawling around scaring my girlfriend again.” he grins to himself a little, “after all i never said i was opposed to squashing you with a rock.”

then aaron dies just that, he grabs the nearest rock, lifts the jar, and squishes the spider.

aarons stands up and dusts himself off. what she doesn’t know won’t kill her, he thinks.

plus, aaron can’t deny he loves helping you when you’re a damsel in distress, even it the distress in question is a tiny bug.

he then turns to walk back to base, but when aaron turns, he’s see a figure standing there.

of course it was kenji.

kenji’s eyes are wide. “did i just witness a murder?”

aaron facepalms himself.

sorry but spiders are not safe in my fics 😋😋

[mishy-mashy]

You will do a character/personality analysis of Shinomori, Banjo and En?

I already did some analyses of these guys, but I think I'm gonna put down this masterlist of what I can pull off the top of my head so far

In relation to posts I made, got asked about, or reblogs about the vestiges and analysis/reading comprehension, from what I can remember,

(Edit: this is a list I'm updating as time goes. Does not include the AFO posts I make [I also like that guy])

En being a product of the time he grew up in

En being cut in half by AFO and not OFA

This ask about if I think En has an anxiety disorder

En and Shinomori's vol 41 illustrations

Shinomori being cute and also some character stuff

Shinomori and Hood should've been the same person

Shinomori was a weirdo

Shinomori and Bruce can be related (appearance and similar character/habits)

This ask about Shinomori being Bruce's nephew

Banjo is a Vigilante, not a Pro Hero

Banjo is where AFO realized taking OFA needed more

Banjo word vomit from an ask asking if he wears a clown mask over his problems

Kudo's really kind

Kudo and Lady Nagant

(Extra point to Kudo-Nagant parallels- THEIR QUIRKS. When they used them, they shot bullets FROM THEIR ARMS and could make the bullet go WHERE THEY WANTED. Nagant by skill, Kudo by Ability)

Kudo, OFA, and "San-San-Kudo" symbolism

Kudo and Bakugo look alike

Kudo and Bakugo resemble each other in s7 too

Kudo and Bruce have eyebags

Kudo smiles like a muppet

Kudo makes funny expressions

Kudo is so short he tucks his pants in

The temptation to write about Kudo knowing nothing about babies and getting one thrown on him in the Resistance era + opening paragraphs

AFO hating Kudo while also being scared shitless

Me over a Kudo cameo

How Kudo fell when Yoichi died, and Kudo and Bruce's different reactions

The foreshadowing of why AFO can't hate strongly, with reference to Kudo

Just a mention in tags about what if Kudo was AFO's soulmate in a Soulmate AU

The Resistance were squatters

Me realizing Kudo's anti-AFO group is actually nameless

Bruce is hot but also has great character

This ask about Bruce's smile

The contrast between the only two times we see Bruce smile (as of ch 424)

Baby u r my angel (Bruce) + tags about being in Bruce's shoes

Some pics of Bruce at bad angles (+ he got the Ojiro treatment)

Me in the tags over Bruce fanart

Why Yoichi can be considered the older twin

Me in the tags when Yoichi shows up as a vestige in s7 ep 12

Some Yoichi-Midoriya parallels

AFO seeing Yoichi in Mineta of all people

Me mentioning people should consider Yoichi, AFO, and their mom in a red light district AU setting

3 reasons for why All Might couldn't find information on the first Three (Yoichi, Kudo, Bruce)

Me going buckwild over a Yoichi and Kudo gif and breaking tag containment

Yoichi + Kudo to Midoriya + Bakugo parallels in the [holding out a hand] scenes

Even as a vestige, Yoichi couldn't look AFO in the eye until Kudo was with Yoichi

The first Three's appearances in s7 ep 13

S7 ep 13 and Midoriya punches AFO with the power of rainbows, right after Yoichi and Kudo appear

*COUGH* Kudo Yoichi Bruce dynamic reblog *COUGH*

Me in the tags looking for rare content about the first Three

Me in the tags over the parallels of Orpheus and Eurydice, to Yoichi, AFO, and Kudo

Me asking if OC-centric fics exist, set in the times of vestiges

Chronological events based off AFO's chase of the past vestiges

Why OFA users are good bases for High-Ends

When the vestiges are smiling without any stressors. Just. Smiling. Oh my gosh-

A point in this post about how determination to beat AFO was what remained of the vestiges

Reblog of post that showed Bruce was crying when he fought AFO

Reblog of a post where Midoriya manages to kill 7 dead people (the vestiges)

Me in the tags wishing Ultra Analysis had pages of the other vestiges

Me in the tags about Horikoshi having detailed backstories for the vestiges and not giving them

My pinned post, which involves a masterlist for my BNHA OC fic stuff (all involve the vestiges, and set in their time periods)

[exeggcute]

the internet and Tumblr in general was already full of shut ins with anxiety and COVID has obviously transformed many of them into hypochondriac agoraphobes who are well trained on moralizing lol. there are people who still think we should never have ended lockdown and that it somehow had no negative social or economic impacts, or at least that the economy is fake enough that those impacts weren't really real

lol yeah. answering this in daylight hours I feel like I should preface it with a note about how I've been masking consistently for four years straight (and have only recently started easing up in certain situations), have lost respect for and/or ended friendships with people who were doing reckless shit during the height of the pandemic, all that. god knows I have an anxious hypochondriac shut-in streak lol. but if the bitch with contamination OCD who's been doing the "disinfect your phone when you get home" thing for years and years before covid and who has literal nightmares about people wearing shoes in my house is like hey guys I think you might be exaggerating some of this just a bit. well. imagine how literally anyone else is gonna feel...

also for reference the thing that got me on this soapbox was an article I saw shared on bluesky about how san francisco is currently experiencing "the highest covid wastewater rates ever measured," which immediately sounded off to me, so I read the damn article, and what it actually seemed to be saying was that there's a summer spike in CA right now same as there's been for the last several summers, and SF currently has a higher rate than any other region in CA at the moment. (the article was legit poorly written to the point where it was hard to tell, but a different wastewater graph someone pulled up seemed to corroborate my reading of this. the current spike is still a fraction of pre-vaccine spikes.)

which, like, is useful information even without the embellishment! I would appreciate knowing that so I could adjust my behavior accordingly. and I'd like to believe that your average person who's receptive to stuff would also take the truth in good stride. so why do we have to fucking lie about it lol.

and to some extent I really do get the impulse to catastrophize because there's no way around it: we super duper fucked up the initial covid response. many individuals were callous and most institutions failed to protect us. but at the same time (1) barn door situation and (2) I don't think exaggerating risks now does anything to compensate for the downplayed risks being peddled to us for the last several years. it's more than fair to celebrate wins when they come (all the new tools in our anti-covid toolbelt, improved case/death rates) without erasing the many many losses up to this point.

still gonna wear a mask on airplanes and shit for the rest of my life though. I'm glad that's an iota more socially acceptable now (and jealous of places where it's already been the norm this whole time) because people are fucking nasty!!!

[broadwaybalogna]

I, a Zutara shipper, would have way more fun self inserting on Mai

So why don’t I?

A short essay on self inserting, what it means, my experience, and why it shouldn’t be a problem.

So the ‘problem’ of me self inserting recently arose again with discourse surrounding a post of mine. I’ll spare you the details, but someone, in an attempt to make me look like a bad person (I assume) said that I was a “self insert”. At first, I was confused because I don’t understand why something like that would be used as an insult. Then I remembered the horrible stigmatization that self inserting has had on the atla fandom.

So I’d like to bring light to what it truly means to self insert.

For this short essay, I’ll be using the term “self insertion” as defined by Wikipedia:

“Self-insertion is a literary device in which the author writes themselves into the story under the guise of, or from the perspective of, a fictional character. The character, overtly or otherwise, behaves like, has the personality of, and may even be described as physically resembling the author of the work.”

First, I would like to go over why I would personally prefer self inserting on Mai, since it’s technically the clickbait for this post.

I had a very large emo/goth phase a few years back. I loved wearing black, chokers, being depressed, etc. while I don’t necessarily identify with that version of myself anymore, I still hold high praise to any and all people who are emo/grunge/goth/fall under that kind of category. Now, I’m not saying that Mai is emo, she’s actually the exact opposite as she doesn’t display much of any emotion, but she is a badass female character who has space buns, a fiery personality, and really cool weapons. I actually like the idea of her a bit more than Katara, and it would certainly be easy to self insert onto her since her character was never really fleshed out.

(Look at her… she’s so cool. I can’t decide if I wanna be her or be with her…) this would probably also be a great time to say that I don’t feel here nor there about Mai in fandom spaces. There are many anti Mai people out there, but I honestly don’t care much for her at this point other than what I’ve already established.

I can relate to a good portion of her problems (being the face of her family, holding their reputation, not having many friends etc.) so self inserting on to her would honestly be no problem for me. So why don’t I do it?

Because my characterization as a shipper doesn’t revolve around myself. If it did, I’d totally okay into that sarcastic brooding gf because I think it’s kinda badass.

I ship Zutara not because I personally wanna be with Zuko, but because I want Katara to be with Zuko. Does that mean that I don’t self insert onto Katara? Hell to the no.

Self inserting helps me understand a character to the best of my ability. In order to figure out how a character might act, react, or approach a situation, I have to put myself into their shoes, that’s just how I work. I don’t think this is a mindset that is personal to just me either, there are plenty of other people who self insert onto Katara and Zuko in order to best convey the realism of their stories.

Now, I’ve self inserted onto BOTH Katara and Zuko, (which probably won’t stop the haters any more than before since I am attracted to both men and women) and in each of those times, I am sure to always stay true to the original characters. I am always considering how the characters were brought up, what they have experienced that has shaped their personality and how they have behaved before.

But I can’t just rely on that to help me tell a story. I have to feel the characters. I have to know what they’re feeling and how it affects them.

This may seem weird, but when writing, I’ll often close my eyes and imagine myself in a scenario much like what the people I’m writing about are experiencing.

This is how I became well known for some of my writing.

I’ve written monologues for characters to say that reflect my own experiences to help give myself and others peace of mind.

I’ve written relationships based on flaws I’ve had with people in my life.

And I’ve written hate. Because I feel hate, and I know that Katara and Zuko do too.

Self inserting shouldn’t be viewed as something that’s horrible for authors to do, it should be embraced. There shouldn’t be a world where people can’t share their experiences through people they relate to.

If you can’t see yourself agreeing with me, I’m sorry, but I don’t think we’ll ever see eye to eye. This is something that I am passionate about, and I will not be thrown off my stance because of a small insult.

In conclusion, I could very easily self insert onto Mai, you could even say it would be lemon squeezy, but self insertion isn’t the only thing that drives me to ship characters, and it never will be. I am a complex person with complex emotions that have led me to look at Katara and Zuko and envy their relationship. Yeah, I want it, and there shouldn’t be anything wrong with that.

[seat-safety-switch]

As human beings, we’re not used to thinking of things being produced in industrial settings by machines. When you go to the grocery store and pick up a can of gravy, you’re not thinking about the immense machinery at the Franco-American factory, behind armoured anti-truck emplacements, pumping it out all day long. Because we are social animals, we don’t like to think about machines doing our work.

You want to believe that it’s done by individual human beings, labouring at the factory, watching for anything going wrong, committed to that product. Even if that product does cost thirty-five cents a can, isn’t a consistent shade of brown, and makes you feel like you might be about to die if you drink a mere five of them in one sitting.

Truth is, the advancement of humanity has largely been done through automation. And one of those automations, the motor vehicle, is the only good one that has ever existed. Horses are lazy and require feeding even when you’re not driving them somewhere, and walking to the next town over wears out your shoes too quickly. Human beings are simply too delicate and inconsistent to trust to any difficult or mind-numbing labour. We stop paying attention to the gravy machine, for instance, when we’re thinking about last night’s TV movie production. A machine is a better use, which frees us up.

Doubters will often say that these machines take away our jobs. And they do, but they’re shitty, awful jobs supervising the gravy machine. The problem is that there hasn’t been any replacement. Our industrial betters sneer at our jobless masses left soaking in the gutter.

This is why, when I become Prime Minister, I will create a whole shitload of cooler jobs for us to do while the machines are busy making products for us to enjoy. For instance, there currently aren’t a lot of astronauts. I will create a thousand new positions for astronauts. Will all of them make it back to earth? Maybe! At least it won’t be boring to find out. What about pinball repair? There’s hardly any jobs in that right now, but that sounds pretty good too. I’ll open Pinball Canada and we’ll make a government-socialized pinball machine that breaks down all the fucking time, so you have lots of little surprises to keep your mind active.

What you won’t have is thirty-five cent gravy. We’re gonna force the factory owner to turn up the “quality” lever to at least thirty-seven cent gravy. You’ll be able to afford the increase with all the tips you’ll make from your pinball repair gig.