#Kinetic Exaggeration

[autoacafiles]

[batwingsandblackcats]

Tunes for Laudna's bad days. Don't worry, she'll come out the other side.

01. Crazy - Bridge City Sinners Voices tell you what you want to hear / Give into the darkness my dear / No room for the light  / When the darkness feels so right / Demons whisper in your ear / Cold sweat so full of fear / Let go you’ll never come back / Watch the lights all fade to black / And every time I think I’m fine / The darkness creeps back into my mind / Reminds me that nothing will ever be okay / I’ll never be okay / Hey maybe that’s okay! 02. Shadow - Amigo the Devil We drag around a shadow with every step we take  / And every bad decision, now also theirs to make  / The thief that only borrows, in a sea without the shark  / But who protects the shadow from the dark? / A thousand different angles say the circle's name in vain  / Are we crucifying the savior or a masochist in pain  / The knife without the handle, a shark without the sea  / But who will give the shadow everything it needs? 03. Withered - Beggar’s Canyon Lord  child have you done no wrong / This world has left you bitter, broken, and alone / Hey  now babe can’t you see what you’ve done / A broken heart left bleeding, and it’s not the only one 04. Rock Bottom - Bridge City Sinners Guilty, I know you blame me  / It's a weight that I carry  / Too heavy for your back to hold  / Regret, some things you can't forget  / So light up that cigarette  / We're all wasting time til we die  / And no, no matter how low  / There ain't no rock bottom for me 05. Shame - Bridge City Sinners It fills my mind, the thoughts consume me / Hoping for a change that will never come / I don’t blame anyone for wanting to leave me / I’ve been staring down the barrel of a loaded gun 06. Cocytus - Pawns or Kings Can you feel me in the fog? / Pull me from this epilogue / My hands are frozen in the snow / The eyes of corpses have no glow / Made these chains for just myself / Rambling about my mental health / Demons on this hazy hill / Only my soul is left to kill  07. Break the Chain - Bridge City Sinners Days get longer, nights get shorter / The chain gets tighter, not getting younger / Live your life while the world’s still turning / Soon the seas will all be burning / Hold fast, go down with the ship / Letting go gets the crack of the whip / The only constant now is change / Break the chain, break the chain 08. Doubt - Bridge City Sinners Just get through today / There’s hope for tomorrow / You’ll feel better soon / Just outlive the sorrow / You feel hopeless now / But you’re not alone / A heart that’s rotten, dead and numb

[countessravengrey]

I think I'm wearing this t-shirt inside out is an entire neurodivergent mood.

https://www.facebook.com/julietordinarylife/

Time Blindness. Time Agnosia. Dysautochromia. A major trait in ADHD. A slightly less major trait in many autistics. Because autism and ADHD share 80% comorbidities.

I need to have a calendar to tell me when I've had my meds, a shower, a meal, a certain task...

I can recall eating a specific meal but damned if I know what day it was...

I can quote every episode of 'Futurama' and I know about major fanfiction trends that happened in the TMNT fandom back in 2006...

I think I'm wearing this tee shirt inside out.

[whenastrofell]

The world is not ready for what I will do with ren'py. Not even I am. Good lord these are lofty goals-

[cyupie]

✦ publicity stunt

pro-hero!neito monoma x pro-hero!male!reader

fluffy! yay!

word count: 1.8k

second person pov + purposeful all lowercase + not proof read

a/n: reader's quirk is known as "kickstart" and functions as follows: "user can generate bursts of kinetic energy and discharge them through their legs, allowing them to move at extreme speeds, leap high into the air, and kick with incredible force." taken from this reddit thread. reader is also kind of sassy ....

you find yourself panting as you run through the streets, chasing down a group of robbers. the only thought going through your head is how much you hate speedster quirks as you make a sharp turn and nearly fall over. a bolt of electricity rushes through you as you prepare to lunge forward - that is until you feel someone hit you over the head and launch themself in your place. “what the fuck!?” you find yourself crying out as you land roughly on the ground. obnoxious laughter fills the air as the perpetrator pursues the criminals and suddenly you’re far too aware of who it is. 

phantom thief, or neito monoma. 

each of the robbers are taken down with an annoying efficiency and skill as he uses your quirk and takes the all of the glory for himself. all you can do is groan as you get up and kick yourself off the ground in their direction, making sure each of them are out for the count as phantom thief stands there with this annoying grin on his face. he looks down at you; you narrow your eyes at him. 

“little bunny rabbit grumpy that his thunder got stolen?” he mocks, poking your chest with a pointed finger as he looks down at you. you think you want to snap his finger as you push him away. 

“i’m not a ‘bunny’ and i’m not grumpy,” you argue. “you didn’t need to hit me over the head the way you did, asshole.” 

his dumb stupid face and his dumb stupid grin don’t waver as he leans back, exaggerated movements and poses that are almost as idiotic as he is. there’s not enough words to describe how utterly aggravating he can be. monoma tilts his head at you, “with a quirk like that, you might as well be a rabbit. plus, i can only raise my rank with flawless stunts like that; not like i’d expect someone like you to understand.” 

the way he flips his hair and looks down at you makes you feel like you’re going to explode. you wish you could legally use your quirk on another pro-hero without repurcussions so long as they were an insufferable little prick like monoma was. 

“great. so it’s not even to like.. be a good person - a good hero, you just.. care about rankings?” you end up questioning, gesturing to the now tied up criminals. your face is scrunched up in both irritation and confusion. why become a hero if you’re going to be more pre-occupied with the public’s opinion of you rather than actual hero work? it didn’t make sense. 

“i’m almost offended you’d imply that,” he scoffs. “i don’t just care about the rankings. but i know if it stays up and the attention on me, i can keep doing my hero work because of it.” 

that makes sense. mostly. at least you can respect him for caring about his job, but your head still feels like it’s spinning from how hard you hit the ground earlier. you point up at him, “it still doesn’t explain why you had to hit me over the head.” 

“oh, that? i just wanted an excuse to hit you.” 

and just like that, any respect earnt was immediately lost. 

you find yourself massaging your temple as the news reporters and crowds start piling in, already shoving microphones and cameras in your faces with question after question. “phantom thief! was chasing down the criminals difficult!? did stealing h/n’s quirk take a toll on you!?” one reporter yelled as monoma put on a facade of friendliness. he smiles - the rest of his face remains flat, otherwise - as he leans into the microphone. 

“it was really nothing; if anything, chasing these petty robbers down seemed more troublesome for our little h/n here,” he laughs and you’re sending a death glare his way. you hope the cameras catch it - and immediately, you regret that thought as the cameras actually begin pointing at you. 

the chorus of questions start streaming in: is that true? how does it feel that phantom thief can use your quirk better than you? did phantom thief frequently copy your quirk during your time at u.a.? is there any reason you were struggling today, h/n? what’s your relationship with the phantom thief? 

that last question makes you perk up. your eyes sparkle with devilish intent - monoma recognizes it all too well - as you smile at the reporters. he feels like he’s going to regret having chosen to mess with you today as you start talking. “oh, isn’t he a sweetheart?” you hum and monoma feels his face light up because that was not the direction he was expecting from you. he wants to tell you to cut it out, to shut up for both of your sakes’ - but, god, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t even the tiniest bit curious what else you were going to say about him. “he’s just so worried about me all the time, i can’t even go a minute without him clinging to my side.” 

okay, now it was time to stop you; he chimes in, “ha, very funny, h/n. actually-” 

gasps from the reporters holding the cameras interrupt him. it was funny how he seemed to almost forget how the press operates - how rumors spread quicker than a forest fire. 

“how long have you and h/n been friends?” “are you and h/n dating?” “have you two been hiding your relationship from the public?” “you’re gay!?” “is what h/n said true?” they question and question and question and it feels like he’s the one in police custody with how they’re interrogating him and analyzing every movement of his. 

monoma’s trying to calm them down with one-word answers-that-aren’t-technically-answers as you watch on in amusement. you bring a hand to your face as you stifle a laugh; he’s trying so hard to maintain a cool, suave personality in front of the cameras but the way he’s stumbling over his words and flushing isn’t helping his case. “really- h/n and i aren’t dating, just really good friends,” he swears to the camera. the way he’s clasping his hands together makes it look like he’s begging for them to believe it.

they don’t. 

“since our graduation from u.a. - come on, dear, don’t be so shy.” you tease and you swear he’s somehow even redder than he was before. you’re not sure if it’s from embarrassment or from being way too flustered or if it’s both but you’re having a grand old time as the attention now shifts to both of you. smoothly, you place your hands on his shoulders and lean into him as you answer their questions, “we try not to let it get in the way of our hero work, but he was in the area and couldn’t help but check in on me. it just so happened i was in a pursuit; he’s really such a sweetheart, isn’t he?” 

he splutters. he’s looking at the cameras and then at you and then the cameras - the way monoma is staring wide-eyed and flushed only seems to further prove your statement. “c’mon hun, can’t you give them a smile?” you coo and suddenly he remembers where he is and who he is. 

for a moment, his mind lingers on how nice it feels for you to call him petnames like that. 

monoma masks any unnecessary feelings - he’ll deal with those later - and puts that suave smile on again for all to see. “i tend to get carried away when i notice h/n could be in danger,” he feigns worry as he turns to you; monoma moves your hands off his shoulders and into his own so quickly you’re almost taken aback. “you’re okay, aren’t you, bunny?” 

oh, he’s in for it now. 

you pinch at his cheek - an almost loving gesture, if it weren’t for how roughly you were doing so - and try to smile with some semblance of a worried boyfriend. “aren’t you adorable?” you mock and monoma looks like he’s going to bite your hand off as you pull it away from him. “i’m perfectly fine thanks to you.” 

he brings the back of your clasped hands to his lips and plants a soft kiss to them. “only for you, mon chéri,” monoma finds himself answering. even as you hear the camera shutters clicking in the crowd, you falter at how natural it feels to have monoma with you like this. he has no reason to be such a sweet-talker.

“so cute!” someone in the crowd cries out; your gaze meets monoma’s and he’s staring at you with so much love in his eyes you almost forget you were just trying to mess with him. 

have you ever noticed how pretty monoma’s eyes were, before? they look so.. so… 

stupid! you interrupt your own thoughts, shaking your head and pulling your hand away from the other with an overdramatic huff. it was your turn to blush as he wrapped an arm around you and continued answering questions with ease. how does he do that? this casual intimacy? you two are barely friends - much less dating - and now that you’ve decided to fuck with him, he’s the one that’s fine with it!? 

he’s almost amused at how well you fit inside his arms before he’s trying to dismiss the thought entirely - you’re trying your best to calm yourself as he holds you close. monoma almost finds himself enjoying your proximity. almost. 

“would you two be willing to kiss for the camera?” a voice chimes in from the crowd. 

you’re still trying to process the question as you look between monoma and this small-time photographer holding up their camera with unimaginable excitement. before you can muster a no, monoma answers first with a, “sure!” 

wait, what? 

he’s already pulled you into a soft kiss with his hand on your chin. monoma’s touch is so gentle, it’s almost tender - loving, even. you find yourself strangely feeling like something’s missing as he pulls away. the way his lips slotted against yours or how he seemed so caring with how he did it; you’re sure he’s had practice. 

you don’t push the feeling away this time. 

“thank you so much,” the photographer calls back out and you’re reminded what this is for - publicity. you almost feel embarrassed as you turn away from monoma with a horribly flushed face. why did you let yourself think that this was anything more than that? publicity, publicity, publicity. that’s all monoma cares about. that kiss didn’t mean anything no matter how nice it felt! 

you miss how pleased monoma looks with himself and the lop-sided, annoying smile that tugs at the corners of his lips. 

“well, i’ll see you later, h/n,” he hums and starts to walk away and you miss the warmth of his hand in yours nearly immediately. “stay safe, honey!” 

and he’s walking away to make sure those robbers are safely in police custody, leaving you to the vultures that are the press. monoma hopes nobody notices the way his heart feels like it’s going to pound out of his chest. he thinks he’ll see if he can get your number from kendo when he’s off-patrol.

© cyupie   do not plagiarize, translate, feed to ai, or repost my works to any other websites

[balioc]

Thinking about your hero/maiden/monster trinary again; it really spoke to something lodged very deeply in my soul. I'm pretty sure I'll do something centered on it at some point.

Specifically I'm thinking about how really laying the trinary bare and analyzing it seriously - fully acknowledging its basic arch-regressiveness but also studying it on its own terms and exploring the possibility space of building interesting variance or subversion on that foundation - really puts to shame the pop feminist media criticism that's seemed to me for much of my life to be increasingly hegemonic. This movement, I think, is rooted in possibly-deliberate failure to understand the hero/maiden/monster trinary, and specifically the maiden role.

Funnily enough, I remember experiencing a similar distaste for/discomfort with/"interrogation" of the maiden role when I was a small child, but this was very clearly my own culturally enforced gender-insecure girls-are-icky-ness talking. I think pop feminism does something very similar but for different reasons, exaggerating the passivity of the maiden role (and throwing in a whole lot of empty mockery, highlighting bad or just tired writing) to build a case that it's a degrading, inferior role that adds nothing to the narrative. Although this memeplex is commonly accepted at basically face value even by people who don't generally consider themselves aligned with pop feminism, it does strike me as a very bad thing for someone's ability to comprehend and create narrative.

Once you've actually comprehended the hero/maiden/monster trinary, the popular refrain that the maiden can be replaced with an inanimate object rings entirely hollow; it's no truer of the maiden than it is of either of the other two roles. The inanimate maiden is the MacGuffin, sure, the golden idol that the hero and the monster are both trying to get. But the inanimate hero is just the deus ex machina, the chandelier that falls on the monster and lets the maiden escape, and the inanimate monster is just the crisis, the well that the maiden's fallen down and the hero needs to get her out of. This monomyth still "works" in maidenless form just like it still "works" in heroless or monsterless form. Perhaps it reflects on the shallowness with which popular media has approached the maiden that popular media critics don't see what value she adds to the story - but I think it notably also reflects on the immaturity of the popular media critics, that they're only able to perceive the bluntest and most kinetic interactions in the story (those between hero and monster), not the exquisitely artfully subtler touches the maiden brings.

...I encountered this very old ask while looking through my archives. Right at this moment I don't have a particular response to offer, but...unsurprisingly I like it, and it seemed substantive enough to be worth sharing with the class.

[bumblydumbly]

ok but the way Adrien is actually more suited to the Ladybug miraculous and Marinette is more suited to the Black Cat miraculous is crazy

Adrien/Chat Noir as he is is lovely, of course, and Adrien as a sheltered kid craves the freedom and spontaneity of Chaos, and he revels in it. But, as someone who was deprived of everyday Chaos, he craves it too much and occasionally needs to be reminded of when its too much or too far

Marinette/Ladybug does remarkably well under the pressure shes constantly dealing with, and shes incredibly reliable for Paris as a whole and the team of heroes she recruits. But Marinettes neurosis is exaggerated by the power of Creation and the role as The One Who Needs to be Infallible, her fingers are in a million pies, shes walking a tightrope and one mistake means EVERYTHING.

If adrien had the ladybug miraculous, instead of being a tightrope, it would be like handing him the reins for once in his life, giving him control he never had, letting him feel needed instead of desperate for his father’s attention and often worrying that ladybug didnt need him anymore. All of Paris needs him, HIM, and the people love him because of his actions and not an image constructed by his father. Generally, instead of the vaguely rebellious undertone it initially has for chat noir, it will feel very virtuous for him, give him purpose that he Chooses, plus! Tikki would be sooo good for him! He’s self deprecating whenever he’s not pleasing his father (for senti reasons ofc) but Tikki would always shut that shit down. He gets a bit of a backbone! He can’t immediately enforce boundaries but he gets there quickly, ducking away from clinging arms or hands, taking on his lessons like hero training, generally choosing to enjoy life in spite of his fathers efforts to craft him in whatever image. Not afraid to lie to his dad about plans, or dating kagami. Every time adrien would waver between something he wants or needs, tikki is quick to calm him, and tell him to listen to his heart, that there is no wrong answer, just pick the one he would regret not choosing, and hed get so much more confident!

With the Black Cat miraculous, marinette would be able to harness her natural chaos! Obsessed with her. She’s clumsy and forgetful, her anxiety takes things out of proportion a lot, but plagg is the ‘what the fuck ever’ that marinette needs to give her perspective! Instead of constantly being encouraged to see the absolute best in everyone and to always be the bigger person, shes allowed to be mad? Talk shit with plagg, him offering to put smelly cheese in chloes locker and marinette telling him not to waste his good cheese. Shes also allowed to be the Helper, which she loves to do, is pivotal to her character, being able to support and put her excess kinetic energy to use. She gets to be silly, because the whole of reality isnt on her back!

If they had these miraculous from the beginning it would be so different but still interesting, i think!

[rowniebow]

Fic where Peter and reader are already dating and Peter is distant because of his obvious job which leaves reader hurt and angry and starts becoming distant and detached with Peter which causes Peter to get mad and then they fight and peter blurts out “are you cheating on me?” Which causes reader to get furious and start yelling which catches peter off guard and reader leaves, can take the story where you want past this. sorry if this is long and confusing or doesn’t make sense (Tom or andrews pete but you can do Tom if it really matters) ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

it can be okay | tom!peter parker x gn!reader

pairings: tom!peter parker x gn!reader

cw: littol bit o angst but not much

word count: 3.4k+

an: went with tom's because i've yet to write abt his peter but i feel like he was left with so much turmoil after no way home, his peter fits well with this prompt...... ANYWAY thank you so much for requesting and i apologize for my absence, esp if u were waiting around for this ! i appreciate you, please stay safe! sry 4 long an

masterlist

⭒

you felt an arm wrap around your waist. warmth and pressure spread over your back. you flipped around to wrap your own arms around the man that had climbed into bed with you.

"sorry," his breath found its way to your ear and pulled the hair on your spine up. his quiet whisper held gravel in the smooth concrete of his voice. "did i wake you up?"

"yeah, i'm glad."

"oh, good. i'm glad i woke you, too. get more time to hear your voice."

you hummed, sleep fighting your coherent words.

"how was your day?"

"it was fine. i missed you for our movie night."

petter stuttered out several different sounds, none of them making any real words.

your eyebrows twitched at his struggle.

"i-i'm so sorry, sweetheart, i completely forgot. i-i-i-i got so caught up with homework i didn't even think... it's that stupid biology class! i always have so much reading to do for it.

"yeah, it's okay," you moved closer to him, desperate for as much of his warmth as possible. "school is more important than movies! let me know next time, though."

"of course," he kissed the top of your head. he lingered with an exaggerated 'mwah'. "i'm so sorry, sweetheart."

you hummed and slurred out a reassurance.

"go back to sleep now, sweets."

and it was okay.

⭒⭒

everything was so much louder when he wasn’t around.

the fridge’s song sung by instruments of kinetic energy hummed at the back of your head. the calm air against the glass window was practically visible with how loud it was. the dust that settled on the marble kitchen countertops and sunk it’s way into the fabric of your couch crunched and stretched the fibers of the masses. you couldn’t seem to turn the television up much higher than seven (you hoped the number might bring you luck to bring the man home).

sure, he’s missed nights that were supposed to be set aside for you two and his favorite star wars films. yes, you’ve noticed how he’s missed more than a few fairly important tests for his classes, causing him to fail (he was beginning to fall fairly far behind in his degree, but you weren’t going to comment on that. not yet, anyway).

but, he’d yet to miss out on a date.

he had yet to leave you waiting at your favorite shitty twenty-four hour diner in the middle of new york that was a forty minute walk from your apartment.

you wouldn’t deny to anyone other than peter that it bothered you a bit. your lip was raw and crumbs from a sad, newly empty plate of fries dusted your nicest clothes that you had put on just for him. your eyes wore heavy bags from how late you stayed up in hope that maybe he was just running a bit late.

however, when a bit late had become two in the morning, you gave up hope on that.

you looked outside at the nearly visible air and listened to the chill of the early morning crack at your window after you arrived back at your empty apartment at nearly three in the morning. you listened to the distant wind against the quickly moving vehicles. you listened to the retreating caw from a bird that didn’t sound like any you’d heard before. you listened to the dust float through the air and the television hum despite it being off. you listened to the deafening silence of the room and your mind.

cold three in the morning apartment air hit the back of your throat as you brought as much of the toxic oxygen into your lungs as you possibly could, and released it to be filtered and given to some other poor abandoned soul.

it was okay.

you understood his forgetful habits. you understood why he slept in and took so many naps. he has a lot on his plate. juggling school, and work, and the family issues that he’s mentioned from time to time.

it is okay.

maybe next time.

⭒⭒⭒

waking up alone after a warm night with peter seemed to hurt more than the missing arrangements.

the apartment's chill leaked under the blankets and burned your skin until you awoke. the emptiness of the space next to you in your bed was a sad physical representation of the emptiness in your gut.

the hole in your stomach that you awake with absorbs all the cereal you eat and leaves you feeling hungry for the rest of the day. it absorbs your joy and hope. it absorbs the warmth in your body (and especially in your smile).

your days are filled with sighs when you wake up with the hole of peter. with those deep exhales, you hope to breath out whatever haunts your stomach.

it sticks with you until the end of the day when you fall asleep alone. peter will climb in after you in the depths of the night and the ocean of your sheets. he'll whisper sweet nothings into your ear. he'll apologize if need be. he'll pepper you with kisses and hold you close.

and you'll be okay.

then he'll do it all over again.

⭒⭒⭒⭒

it just so happened to be next time.

he promised to make the last time up to you and promised to see you the next friday night for dinner.

so there you sat, leg bouncing under the table at a restaurant that was all too fancy for your taste but peter had insisted on.

you were on your third glass of an odd color wine (that really didn’t even taste good) and you were nearing the second hour of waiting.

“would you like to order yet, sir?” the waiter asked for the fifth time that night.

perhaps it was the alcohol that brought a sting to your eyes when you checked the time on your phone. but you smiled and shook your head and asked for the check instead.

looking at the number on the check, you nearly sobbed at how much three glasses of wine cost you. but you sighed and gave an eighty percent tip anyway as reparations for the waiter having to pity you all night. you almost sobbed, again, when you could hear a couple that had gotten there after you comment to one another about how long you’d been there.

cheeks warm with embarrassment, you made your way back to your apartment. the chill of the late night spring mildly helped cool you down.

the pity in the waiter's eyes and the couple's comments haunted you all the way home. only when you undressed into your sleep clothes and climbed under the covers could you manage to excuse peter's actions.

peter must have simply gotten caught up in homework. he must have just fallen asleep.

it's okay.

perhaps he got the days mixed up and forgot it was friday. or he got his hours for work wrong and he ended up having to work.

it is okay.

⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒

you truly didn’t mean to lean away from his kiss when peter tried to wish you goodbye that evening.

but you did.

you leaned away as if it were a stranger that was trying to kiss you. you truly didn’t mean to. you also knew that you truly felt as though it was a stranger trying to kiss you, though.

you knew it hurt him. quite honestly it hurt you, too. whether it was the pain in his features that hurt you or the fact that you felt that way.

either way, your actions hurt the both of you, and you knew you should apologize. you nearly did right then and there.

"are you cheating on me?" the quiet whispers of words that he choked out hit you like lightning. the frown in his lips and the way he avoided your eyes made your heart crack before you could process the words he spoke. his broken voice distracted you from the content it delivered.

you felt your eyebrows pull together at first. you felt the apology creep in your throat and nearly spill out.

his hurt was a new language for you to learn. it forced you to think over each word and remember the meaning of it similar to how you did in spanish class in high school.

and as the syllables set in and your brain wrapped itself through the vowels and consonants, you scoffed. maybe even laughed.

did he really just say that? did he truly feel like he had the nerve to say that?

"am i cheating on you?" a glare made itself comfortable in your features.

it's not okay.

"...no?" peter’s stuttered, hesitant disagreement made his regret in his words clear. but how could you just brush over his accusation?

"peter parker, i should be asking you that question."

"wha-what do you mean?"

"you're the one who's hardly fucking here. you’re the one that’s left me waiting until the morning for you to come around. you’re the one who ‘forgets’ anytime we agree to hang out.”

it is not okay.

“i-i didn’t-,”

“‘you didn’t’ what? remember? show up?”

his silence was as loud as it is when he’s gone.

“where are you all day, peter?”

so

“where are you at night?”

fucking

“where are you right now. are you even here?”

loud.

“get out.”

“what? no - no, please, y/n, you gotta trust me on this.”

nothing is okay.

“i trusted you to be here!”

“i know, and i’m so sorry, but - ah - i can’t tell you. you just-just gotta trust me!”

“no, peter!”

“please, i’ll make it up to you, i swear!”

“you’ve had plenty of chances for that.”

“c’mon, y/n,”

“no! even if you’re not cheating on me, you obviously don’t have time for me!”

“i’ll make time for you,”

“you really should have already been doing that.”

“i’ll make more time for you!”

“you don’t get more time in a day, and you’re not getting anymore from me, parker. christ- are you going to leave?"

"no! y/n, please, let me make this right, i-i can't lose you, too."

"fuck. i will leave then, jesus!"

"what?"

you slipped your shoes on, ignoring his words.

peter called your name as you opened the door.

"goodnight, peter."

⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒

you stayed at your parents house for a couple nights then came back to your empty apartment. the silence wasn't as loud as it normally was, but the intensity of the emptiness, both in the apartment and in the pit of your stomach, made up for the lack of overbearing volume.

you went about your life for two whole weeks with that emptiness haunting you. not a word from peter. about anything.

you went to your classes, studied in your room, went to work, came back and went to sleep: the college dream.

you hardly even noticed two weeks had passed with the way you had just been floating through the days.

with your mind blank without the joy and excitement of peter parker in your life, you filled it with the words from your humanities textbook to prepare for a final.

the jiggling of your apartment doorknob cut through the sound of the words in your head. your eyes immediately went wide. the air became thick as you heard the door squeak open slowly but surely.

your breath was stuck in your throat, but you found it in you to pick up your heavy textbook to toss if you needed.

you listened to the door creek shut and click closed.

perhaps someone just mistook your apartment for their own? maybe a new neighbor who's mixing it up? you're sure it's just a simple mistake and not some horrible, evil, scary, stronger-than-you criminal who wants to steal the little bits of items you have. certainly they won't murder you brutally, or kidnap you and sell you.

certainly not, right?

your mind ran wild with what-if's and dangers of the situation. what else was there to do in the face of danger, though? hide under your blankets and hope they don't come in?

no, you'd at least like to look death in the face before you go.

that didn't stop your racing heart and shaking hands, of course.

so you crept around your door frame and down the small hall that lead to your tiny living room. you could hear the person rattling through your pots and pans.

you stood behind the corner, telling yourself it'd be fine.

you can do it. just go and ask what's going on. you're sure this is probably just some huge mix up.

"hah!" you huffed as you turn the corner and toss the heavy book at the person.

they immediately turn around and catch the flying pages. your heart drops to your stomach. your only weapon failed.

"y/n? i didn't know you were home!"

your heart manages to repair itself in your chest as the voice and face process in your mind. "peter?" you practically shriek. "what are you doing here?" a breath (that you were fully aware you had been holding) left your lungs, your hands finding their way to cover your face from the stress.

"i-i-i didn't know you'd be home, i'm sorry,"

"so you sneak into my apartment when i'm not home?" the glare you sent him reminded him how snappy you get when you're upset.

"no, no, no, no, no-!"

your questioning glare had him pause his denial.

"well, yes,"

you groaned.

"but listen!"

"i don't want to listen to you when you just broke into my house, peter!"

"well, the door was open-,"

another groan.

"okay, yeah, i can...see...that..."

"leave, peter!"

"wait, wait, wait! okay, listen," he took a deep breath. "i can explain myself-,"

"which part: when you forgot about me constantly or when you broke into my house?"

"all of it! i can explain and i just want you to know that i haven't been telling you for your own safety."

"what the fuck are you talking about?"

"just-just come with me."

"where?"

"it's a surprise!" his apologetic smile willed you to trust him.

you stared at him. his waves framed his face - his hair seemed to grow a lot in the last two weeks. his eyes were a whirlpool that sucked you in.

"jesus, peter." you shook your head, but found some shoes and a jacket to slip on anyway. the bright smile on peter's face made you want to forget about everything.

you followed him down the stairs to the quiet, three in the morning college town streets on a tuesday.

"how far away is it?" you asked. your eyes followed a plane as it blinked through the sky.

"kind of far," he moved in front of you to block your path. "but," he sung his vowel. "i know a quicker way to get there!"

"do we need to take the subway-?" you looked around, only for peter to wrap an arm around your waist. "what-?"

"it's going to be a little scary but you gotta trust me."

"what are you doing, pete?"

"you gotta hold on okay?" he guided your arms around his neck. "trust me, okay?" his sweet enchanting smile encouraged you to trust him despite everything. that didn't stop the groove between your brows from forming, though.

"what-?"

and you were in the air. screaming, obviously. you could hear his reassurance and apologies, willing you to keep holding on.

after several minutes of being in the air and coming to the consensus that you wouldn't fall even if you tried with peter's death grip on you, you took a glance around at your setting.

the street was far below you. cars and lights from down below smiled up and laughed at your fear. apartments on the thirtieth floors were eye level but passed so fast that you couldn't see who resided in them.

"isn't it nice?" peter whispered. he was your only lifeline; the only thing keeping you from falling to your death. "it's so peaceful up here." his quiet words didn't calm your racing heart or sooth your stressed features, but it brought you to stay present until your feet hit the solid ground again.

your legs shook you until your knees met the surface you stood on.

"sorry-,"

"what was that, parker?" you sparse breath made your voice come out as merely a squeak but peter knew all too well that you would be screaming at the top of your lungs if you could.

"it- well- i- uhm," the wind helped you push yourself off of your knees and back to sitting like a normal person rather than someone who thought their feet wouldn't ever touch the ground again. "i'm not really sure how to say this i-i-,"

"peter, i swear to god-,"

"i'm spider-man!" you looked up at his avoiding eyes that were as wide as yours. as if he couldn't believe he actually said that.

"excuse me?" you said after several moments of silence passed.

"i-i'm spider-man," his quiet voice was nearly drowned out by the blowing wind.

you laughed.

his eye brows came together in frustration. "why are you laughing?"

"you're not spider-man."

"i just swung us to the top of central park tower and you're going to deny that i'm spider-man?"

your smile slowly faded as you noticed where you were. that he was right. you were among the stars, the moon within inches of your fingers. the street glowed up at you, laughing once more. the usual honking screams from the cars could not be heard from how high you were. all you could hear was the growl of the wind and peter's shy voice.

"oh my god,"

"no-no, don't freak out!"

"i'm not freaking out, i never freak out. you're just spider-man and that's a thing and we're on top of the central park tower and i could totally fall right now but i'm not freaking out."

you were freaking out.

"doesn't spider-man have webs or something?"

peter stuck out his hand, and a white web came tumbling out after your hand that rested on the ground you still sat on. he tugged at the string that stuck itself to your hand and pulled you up with it. you stumbled into him, his hands steadying your shaking.

"that's insane."

"i know, and i'm so sorry. between juggling school and work and this, it's really difficult to keep track of everything. this doesn't have a schedule and gets in the way of you a lot more than i'd like it to."

"i-i guess i get why you didn't tell me."

a breath left through peter's lips. "i-i put together this as an apology, though." he motioned behind you to yet another thing you didn't notice throughout the stress of it all.

a blanket laid out with food from your favorite take out place scattered all over it. small electric candles flickered around the setting providing as the only light that wasn't coming from the city down below along with his laptop that was glowing and set up to browse through netflix for something to watch.

"i'm really sorry. i'm sorry i'm never there. i'm sorry it's taken me so long to see you again. i'm most of all sorry that i can't change it."

your eyes met his once again.

"if how i am is too much for you, i completely understand. you deserve someone who will treat you as good as you deserve and who will show up. but i want you to know that i miss you, and love you, and i will keep trying so hard to show up."

"you love me?"

"i-i-," peter's sure eyes suddenly fell to the floor and his hands found the back of his neck. "i mean, yeah," he stuttered. "but like it's okay, like, i get it, you know? i don't-,"

all the fears of being at the top of the central park tower and dating spider-man and what it means to date spider-man left you mind. all you could think about was how much you really did love peter despite his absent habits. maybe even more so now that you knew this huge secret and what that secret told about him as a person.

so you kissed him.

the heavenly feeling of his lips was something you didn't know you missed as much as you did. as soon as your lips met, tears pricked themselves at your eyes but you refused to let them fall.

you were okay.

peter was okay.

you were both okay.

it was all okay.

⭒ taglist ⭒

@fadedver @1ischai @djmalik52 @garlicforthewin @cryinked @armand0alg0 @softboi14

please dm me if you would like to be taken off of the taglist

[eretzyisrael]

How Israel Lost the Information War

Yesterday I was listening to a news program on the radio while preparing dinner. The host asked his subject – I don’t recall who it was, probably an opposition member of the Knesset – this question: how can it be that world opinion has become solidly anti-Israel only a few months after the worst pogrom since the Holocaust, in which more than a thousand Jews were murdered in the most brutal fashion imaginable, in which hundreds of women were raped and children tortured to death? The predictable and stupidly self-serving political answer was that it was the fault of the Netanyahu government, which had “mismanaged” the war. But what is the correct answer?

The real reason is that Israel, while successful in the “kinetic” aspects of the campaign against Hamas, has been overwhelmingly defeated in the less visible theater of information warfare.

The roots of this defeat go back decades. There was as yet no “mismanagement” on the day after the Hamas invasion, when there was an outburst of anti-Israel demonstrations and attacks on Jews around the world while the rampage was still continuing in parts of southern Israel. The ground was prepared as far back as the 1970s, when a wave of Arab petrodollars, guided by the Soviet KGB, flowed into a massive project of psychological and diplomatic warfare against the Jewish state. It wasn’t so difficult for them – the built-in antisemitism of the West, temporarily suppressed after the Holocaust, found a new outlet. It was easy, too, to nurture antisemitic elements in the Muslim world. In the West, the educational systems were infiltrated and subverted, starting with the “best” universities and continuing down to textbooks and curricula for elementary schools. A reality-inverting identification was made between Zionism and Western colonialism and racism, benefiting from both the anger of the formerly colonized and the guilt of the colonizers.

Funds for anti-Israel initiatives also came from the network of charities associated with George Soros, starting around the beginning of the 1990s. This money nourished many of the NGOs and human rights groups that became centers of anti-Israel propaganda, and continues to support them.1

In the diplomatic realm, the invention of the Palestinian Refugee after Israel’s War of Independence (a war of national liberation in which the formerly colonized Jews fought Arab proxies of the British Empire!), provided Hamas with the troops it needed, fed and educated to the point of fanatic hatred with Western money. Hamas combined the multi-faceted indoctrination against Jews and Israel, pioneered by the PLO after Oslo, with religious jihad. Both the West and the Muslim world were primed and ready to blame Israel for the murder, rape, and pillage of her people. And the great-power rivals of the US, Russia and China, were only too happy to join in the take-down of what they see (correctly?) as an American satellite, an outpost of the US in an important zone of contention.

Given the fertile soil, the propaganda offensive of Hamas and its supporters when Israel counterattacked blossomed into a worldwide flourishing of anti-Israel and anti-Jewish expression. The Palestinians, who have developed the technique of exploiting their supposed victimhood, sometimes by exaggeration, sometimes by invention (as in the alleged shooting of the boy Mohammad al Dura in 2000, probably the most blatant yet effective “Pallywood” production ever), and sometimes by deliberately putting their people in harm’s way, pulled out all the stops. Soon the horrors of October 7th were drowned out by the suffering of the Gazans affected by the war that their leaders had started. Western media and humanitarian organizations slavishly repeated Hamas propaganda about civilian casualties with proforma disclosures that their only source was Hamas.

Mismanagement on the part of Israel also goes back decades. It includes overdependence on the US and consequent weakness in the face of pressure from unfriendly administrations, inability to overcome wish-fulfillment illusions about Palestinian motives and plans, weakness in the face of domestic pressure (for example, the release of more than a thousand imprisoned terrorists in return for one kidnapped soldier), and the tendency to prioritize internal political issues over serious external threats. A very serious failure has been our sporadic, inconsistent, and poorly funded actions in the information arena, while our enemies have implemented a long-term, carefully planned and meticulously executed campaign.

Al Jazeera, began broadcasting in Arabic by satellite in 1996, and since then has added multiple languages, including English. Based in Qatar and very influential in the Arab world, it has been in the forefront of anti-Israel propaganda ever since. In wartime, it specializes in inflammatory stories and photos of “atrocities” allegedly committed by the IDF (pictures from Syria and natural disasters are sometimes used). Left-leaning Western media, like the British Guardian newspaper have always followed an anti-Israel line; and the BBC is far from impartial. More recently, mainstream media in the US like the NY Times and Washington Post newspapers, the NPR radio network, CNN, and others – staffed by the products of “good” universities – have become more than merely biased: at their worst (which is often), they are mouthpieces for Hamas. Pro-Israel media in the West are rare and marginal. Some of Israel’s own media – in particular the English edition of Ha’aretz, which is widely read throughout the world – is only slightly less toxic than Al Jazeera. Israel is overwhelmed on social media as well, in part by botnets, but also by individuals and anti-Israel NGOs which dedicate staff to this function.

The combination of governments, international institutions, NGOs, media, academic institutions, and the arts all promulgating the carefully nurtured myths of Palestinian victimization and Israeli malevolence have overpowered Israel’s woefully inadequate attempts at a response.

In short, Israel has been and continues to be outgunned in the realm of information warfare. There have been sporadic attempts to improve the situation, but the funds for such a massive undertaking have never been available, nor would there likely be agreement on precisely what the message should be and how it should be presented. And we don’t have decades to lay the groundwork and gradually uproot the deep-seated antisemitism and hatred of the state of the Jews that has developed over time, even if we knew how to do it.

The best strategy in the face of this defeat therefore will be to depend on the human tendency to cheer for the winner: to be the “strong horse” that everyone bets on. Israel will need to defeat its enemies on the physical plane, to humiliate them and strike fear into the ones that are left. Rather than a picture of “responsible citizenship” that the world has been conditioned to disbelieve, our image should be that of a violent and dangerous player. In an environment where we can’t create warmth, we should at least inspire trepidation.

1 Alexander H. Joffe, “Bad Investment: The Philanthropy of George Soros and the Arab-Israeli Conflict, How Soros-funded Groups Increase Tensions in a Troubled Region: May 2013 https://www.ngo-monitor.org/soros.pdf

[ducktracy]

There's a certain Peanuts animator that doesn't get as recognized as Bill LittleJohn, but who I think shaped the way we animate Peanuts characters. His name is Frank Smith

Frank was an animator at Fleischer, Harman-Ising, Lantz and UPA who wound up working on peanuts specials. His animation on them is really good. He animates simple actions like opening and closing a door, making a kite or picking something up really nice (fluent at times) and there is this kinetic energy flowing in his animation. He was responsible for most of the scenes that looked good that you really liked. He also draws the characters in a nice way that is pleasant to look at. He doesn’t get that much credit, but I think he pioneered the way you draw and animate the kids. Here is some of his stuff I always wanted someone to do a reel on him. VERY underrated.

here are some scenes he did. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TRGkEDADmRU (0:01-1:23) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uxy0z7s05ZQ (0:04-1:39, 1:50-3:01) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SmjiJ3BBj0I (0:36-3:00) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v8rudzu67sQ (2:14-3:01) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9a25FDNki2I (0:00-1:22)

OH WOW!!! this is all so insightful--thank you for taking the time to compile these! now that you mention it, i DO recall seeing his name on the Harman and Ising LTs. i always love looking for LT alumni on the Peanuts specials (Herman Cohen and Manny Perez!! Ken Champin! lots of Freleng unit guys it seems), so it's great to fill that niche further

when watching A Boy Named Charlie Brown, i kept repeated note on how great the film is at capturing mundanities--you have that whole sequence of Charlie Brown building the kite at the beginning (which i now know is one of his scenes thanks to you!), meticulously getting dressed after each pitch... these long, careful shots that should feel utterly torturous in their monotony but never do! so it's great hearing about an animator who specifically specialized in that very thing.

but yeah, i do love his style!! it's great to have a name to the drawing style. i definitely found myself taking multiple screenshots of what i now know are his scenes.

thanks so much for the insight!!!! i don't know my Peanuts animators (save for Littlejohn of course HAHA, he's like the Peanuts equivalent of Rod Scribner--both in exaggeration/appeal of his drawings and the ability to spot him a mile away. shameless plug, but please check out this reel my dear dear friend Rae made of his work!), so i really love having something and someONE new to learn about!

[whiskeyswifty]

In your opinion what do you think is the closest she’s ever come to serving hahaha (for the record I find her serve allergy quite charming)

LMAOOOOOOOO i mean i do have a weird encyclopedic brain for some taylor things, but it doesn't have a search bar function like that unfortunately. more of an input/output photo recognition type thing which is utterly useless 99% of the time. I think a "serve" by my own definition is like a particular kind of sharp, relevant, statement making look and that's not really how she utilizes clothes historically (i tried looking for a long ask i answered a long time ago about this but i couldn't find it lol but i tried! tldr: she uses clothes to come off accessible). so i think it's both that fashion in the progressive and bold sense is just not a skill of hers innately but also intentionally she avoids it to maintain that character of relatable friend to the masses. she's shed it slowly over the years, and a bit more recently so i think i have a few here for you that i think are either a serve or in the ballpark of a serve! on base even! (my sports metaphor can only go so far)

little off the shoulder pleated pants situation. simple, sleek, sexy, cuts an interesting figure for her especially with the draping of the pants. tight and dark on top with the shirt and jewelry and flowing and kinetic on the bottom, balance and contrast, very purposeful. the heel is not quite on point, could have used the shoe for a bolder statement or something geometric to ground it all but i love it still!! a serve!

2. this incredible moment which is a serve in HER style language if that makes sense. preppy and polished and prim, but with an exaggerated form using the oversized rugby dress and logo on her chest. dark and high contrast to the rich warmth of the leather boots and the bag and her softer lip. leaving the legs bare for a bit of a cunty/slutty effect, and the shirt unbuttoned all the way down. GREAT way to play with scale and provocation and still stay within your comfort zone, unbelievably hot. servington 10000.

3. rare coconut head w but my god what a suit. nothing says serve like all white/cream down to the shoe and the bag. minimal makeup, peachy lip, relaxed power suit like. very bold for her. a full serving of all your daily fruits and vegetables AND grains!!

4. and whatever the fuck this was i mean why are there no more photos of this. she looked AMAZING!!!!!! from what we can see anyway. there are chains on it too and she's got the big hoop earring like what a bold look for her!! even the shoulders have a bit of padding on top of the crop which really exaggerates the form in a fun way. we were ROBBED of a full body serve!!!

[autoacafiles]

[self-critical-automaton]

i said this back when it was first announced but

tbh i think studio trigger's exaggerated and hyper-kinetic style is a really bad fit for dungeon meshi. the subtlety and deliberate delicate detail of ryoko kui's art is one of the really special things about that comic.

[watching-pictures-move]

Movie Review | Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga (Miller, 2024)

Because George Miller is a great image maker and world builder, there's always something interesting to look at, and the sense of visual and narrative exaggeration helps the heavy use of CGI go down easier. That being said, the sheer sense of clutter made me long for the visual and narrative cleanness of the earlier movies. This is 2.5 hours of weird guys mugging their way through a lot of plot in a way that doesn't pare down to the same elemental level of the previous movies. In fact, it feels enough odds with the previous movies in this respect that I suspect Miller turned this into a Mad Max movie so he could get it funded in the first place. The overt connections to the other movies are the worst thing about this.

The most engaging stretch outside the action is the relationship between Furiosa and Praetorian Jack, because it captures a sense of genuine human emotion that doesn't feel like a direction extension of Miller's world building. But while Anya Taylor-Joy is a talented actress and the movie makes great use of her eyes, it also crowds her arc to the point that her big revenge scene at the end feels laboured and clunky. Perhaps it's unfair to compare her to Mel Gibson, who is not only a much better actor but whose problematic qualities thoroughly colour his screen presence, but there's a genuine sense of human corrosion at the end of the first movie that's missing here.

And because Miller is a great action director, the action here feels kinetic and exciting and generally on the right side of cartoonish despite the heavy use of CGI. But I'd be lying if I didn't miss the thrill of seeing real cars racing across real landscapes. There's a sense of tactile vehicular violence in the earlier movies that's mostly missing here. The end credits include clips from Fury Road, which only drives home the contrast.

If it sounds like I'm really down on this movie, I'm not. It's consistently visually interesting and frequently exciting. It's just that compared to some of the best action movies of all time, it falls short.

[opencommunion]

"Since October 7, more than 1,300 Palestinians in Gaza have died; more than 8,000 have been injured; more than 340,000 have been displaced; and thousands of buildings, including homes, universities and hospitals, were destroyed. Al-Alam and Press TV journalists have been assassinated, and several media centres in Gaza have been destroyed. Eleven UN Relief and Works Agency for Palestine Refugees (UNWRA) staff members also lost their lives in the shelling. Some died in their homes with their families.

The notorious Israeli intelligence often thwarted resistance well before it started, and/or the perpetrators were swiftly captured or assassinated. The sophistication of Operation al-Aqsa Flood, which has succeeded in roping multiple Palestinian forces, has resulted in groundbreaking sustainability of resistance. The aggression is being rivalled to such measures that after 48 hours of battle, all flights to and from Israel had to be stopped.

The US could have chosen to be a peace broker by empathising with the conditions that led to the large-scale resistance. Instead, President Joe Biden deviated from his stance that he had in his younger years and vehemently denounced the rights of Palestinians to resist. While ironically emphasising apartheid Israel’s right to self-defence, implying that Palestinians’ lives were less important, he pledged more military assistance for Israel, which already receives $3.8 billion a year in US military aid.

Demonstrating this commitment, a plane carrying ammunition and equipment to replenish Israel’s Iron Dome arrived in Tel Aviv on Tuesday. Furthermore, the US navy dispatched the USS Gerald R Ford Carrier Strike Group to the Eastern Mediterranean. The strike group is comprised of the USS Gerald R Ford (CVN-78), with its eight squadrons of attack and support aircraft, the Ticonderoga class guided-missile cruiser USS Normandy (CG 60), the Arleigh Burke-class guided-missile destroyers (DDG 51), USS Thomas Hudner (DDG 116), USS Ramage (DDG 61), USS Carney (DDG 64), USS Roosevelt (DDG 80), and thousands of soldiers. The carrier group is being augmented with the Air Force F-35 in addition to the F-15, F-16 and A-10 fighter aircraft and the approximately 30,000 troops already in the region. A second carrier stands ready to be deployed.

This exaggerated show of force by the US in the region is cause for concern. Hamas’s offensive is asymmetrical. Unlike Israel, it has no air force, navy or military.

The blatant, excessive US presence is unjustifiable and prompts the question of why? The Biden administration has put much effort into influencing dynamics in the region. They shifted from the overt, post-9/11 militaristic approach of the Obama and Trump administrations. The withdrawal from Afghanistan and the initial engagements with Iran around its nuclear programme are demonstrations of this shift in tactics. However, protecting their primary ally in the region remained essential. Therefore, they prioritised building on Trump’s Abraham Accord and focusing on normalising diplomatic relations between Israel and Arab states, namely Saudi Arabia, the United Arab Emirates (UAE), Bahrain, and Morocco.

... Even as the Biden administration sought to shift its approach to the Middle East from militaristic to being more developmental, it retained a presence in Iraq and Syria.

In addition, it continued to engage in joint military exercises with Israel, the UAE, and Bahrain in the Red Sea. January saw the second iteration of Red Sands training exercises between the US and Saudi Arabia, which included employing various kinetic and non-kinetic techniques to destroy or disable Unmanned Aerial Systems (UAS). From August 31 to September 14, the US Central Command and Egypt facilitated Bright Star 2023, the oldest multilateral military exercise in the Middle East and Africa, having first occurred in 1980.

Despite US efforts, they have not been able to gain control over the region. Relations between Jordan, the UAE and Saudi Arabia have been re-established with Syria. In May this year, Syria was readmitted into the Arab League. In August, Egypt, Iran, Saudi Arabia and the UAE were invited to form part of BRICS plus. Operation al-Aqsa Flood makes a mockery of their interventions related to Israel. And within the broader geopolitical sphere, the US-Nato-Ukraine-proxy war is a failure. The emergence of a multi-polar world order is becoming increasingly probable, thereby increasing the volatility and desperation of the US.

It is feared that Operation al-Aqsa Flood might provide the US with the long-desired opportunity to deal with the “Axis of resistance” once and for all. Any such aggression will definitely ignite a conflict of global proportions.

Already, there are efforts to provoke Lebanon and Syria into joining the conflict. Biden’s warning about external interference and the heavy presence of the US military imply that they will intervene should Lebanon and Syria come to the assistance of Palestine. The Nato defence ministers, through Jens Stoltenberg, have also pledged that Israel will not stand alone, inferring a willingness to engage in military combat.

The millions of corpses in the region testify to the devastation that the US-Israeli-Nato alliance can sow. Therefore, Hezbollah has been careful in its response to date, only acting within occupied Lebanese territory. Likewise, Syria has primarily relied on its air defence to manage the Israeli attacks from occupied Golan, including the bombing of Damascus and Aleppo airports this month. Neither country wants to be drawn into further war.

However, both have vigorously defended the right of the people of Palestine to resist and indicated a preparedness to fight should the US enter the conflict more prominently.

The primary target of the US and Israel, namely Iran, also wishes to avoid a war in the region. However, it is already participating in plans for an emergency session for the heads of the councils of member states of the Organisation of Islamic Co-operation. The meeting will discuss the repercussions of the apartheid-Israel aggression on Gaza and how best to provide humanitarian support. ... We have witnessed the human, social and economic costs of the Ukraine-Russian conflict. An extension thereof is undesirable. We, particularly the world’s leaders, must wake up to what the US is dragging us into and make greater efforts to resist it."

[bluntblade]

It's a relatively small thing, but I think I'd feel much more confident about the Ahsoka show if it looked different.

I understand why Rogue One's look has become the default look in live-action SW, at least the shows (to the point that The Acolyte having a different aesthetic is a moderate talking point). It's a great-looking film which is probably the Disney one that people agree on most as good (I have reservations but sure, I like it a lot). And yeah, it makes a decent amount of sense to have Mando adopt that look, while with Andor, it fits like a glove.

But leaving aside the fact that a large part of R1's visual appeal is that Edwards and Greig Fraser are both great at shooting scale (with the shows inherently operating on a considerably smaller scale), the thing is that R1 looks pretty different to prior Star Wars films. There's a reason for that. Jyn and Cassian are much lower-key characters than our usual heroes in the setting (and to be clear, this isn't a judgement of whether anyone's a good or bad character) and the whole idea of their struggle is that it's about the Rebel boots on the ground, the heroes behind the heroes.

Is Ahsoka really that? In a way, yes, but it's also set to be a show about larger-than-life characters, one a Jedi and the other a Mandalorian renegade who paints anything within reach, including her own armour, and of course the third-biggest war criminal droid of the era (Chopper might have the biggest body count but he bows to BT-1 and Triple-0 when it comes to sheer sociopathy). They have adventures with space whales, discover the World Between Worlds and encounter oddball wizard beings who speak with the voice of Tom Baker and laugh in the face of Thrawn. There's a reason they benefited from the exaggerated designs and colourful, kinetic presentation of an animated show (and comics, especially the excellent Kanan two-parter).

And an explicitly toned-down realist style kind of pushes against that vibe. The MCU and the current slew of Disney remakes show this off a whole lot - they generally feature larger-than-life characters but skew hard towards realism, as opposed to creating a heightened reality (see Pacific Rim or Mad Max: Fury Road) where those big personalities would feel more at home. Heck, other Star Wars films do that - there's a reason The Force Awakens and The Last Jedi went for bright, vibrant colours (and why Steve Yedlin brought that soulful expressiveness to TLJ in particular). Without it you tend to end up with an odd disjunct where things feel... a bit dull.

In a smaller way, I think we've already seen that with Kenobi, aside from the general trouble that show seems to have had in the area of cinematography. That show often ended up just rather bland - Tatooine is largely pale grey, while the Fortress Inquisitorius and Vader's castle come off more dingy than true halls of darkness.

To be clear, I'm really hoping that Ahsoka Tano gets a good show, and that I'm proven wrong on the visual front. But I worry that we're looking at another SW show which (leaving the whole Volume thing and its constraints aside) opts for an ill-fitting default look, instead of embracing how diverse Star Wars stories can be.