#baby i’m an anarchist

[deer-motif]

I BURN DOWN BUILDINGS WHILE YOU SIT ON A SHELF INSIDE OF THEM

baby, i’m an anarchist! by against me // battling pegases, george ford morris

[chaosgenasi]

saw ljg & the mississippi medicals. i’m different now

[canisvesperus]

I need to start making niche philosophy posts again so that I can tell how many of you are lying about understanding anarchist theory lmfao

[a-continuous-cutting-motion]

u may as well just delete that reblog since nobody in their right minds are gonna agree with you defending reposting art LMAO

anyways nice to see you dont give a shit abt us artists who just dont want to see our creations floating around reposted by strangers who dont even both to remember our names. 🖕

Actually I gained multiple followers from that post. Speak and making lightning, ya know what I’m saying?

[chaussetteblanche]

hobie taking care of drunk!you

pairing : hobie brown x gn!reader summary : the ways hobie takes care of you when you've had too much to drink warnings : none word count : about 1k

You had been shocked when Hobie had agreed to come to the party. You’d been begging him for days to come with you, not only because you wanted him to accompany you, but also because there were a few people you were convinced he would get along with. Other anarchists and punks. His kind of people. It was one of your friends’ birthday, and a perfect excuse to drink just a bit too much on a Friday evening.

“Aight, I’ll come along, but the second they get some of that shitty modern music playin’, I’m outta there, you get me?” he’d warned the day before. You had just beamed, lifting yourself up on the tips of your toes to give him a sweet kiss. He had hummed, heading back to the couch to resume his Bakunin book.

He was now staring at you across the room, you were in the kitchen with a dozen other people, throwing back drink after drink. He had known it was over when you’d started mixing alcohols. He’d have to stay the whole night, even if it was just to look after you. But it wasn’t as bad as he had expected, a few friends of yours had interesting political views and made for rich conversation. He internally winced when he saw your behaviour alter, thinking of how shitty you’d be feeling the following day.

“Hobie!” you cried loudly, wobbling over to him. He had a hand out as soon as you were within reach, hovering over the small of your back in case you were to stumble. "You alright there?" he asked. You nodded happily and pressed a wet kiss to his cheek, smiling widely. “How are you liking the party with these two?” You motioned to your two friends, who chuckled at the state you were in. “I told ya you’d like ‘em,” “I do, they’re very nice, aren’t they?” he chuckled as you swayed lightly besides him. “How ‘bout you come with me for a sec, luv?” You looked down, shuffling your feet which seemed unusually far from you. “Not here, Hobes, we can’t…” Hobie let out a bark of laughter at the way your mind worked. “Nah, luv, I’m not tryna have sex right now, but let’s ‘ave a drink, though, yeah?” “Oh,” you nodded, a twinkling laugh escaping your throat, “sure,”

You wobbled enthusiastically to the kitchen, Hobie catching up with you within a few quick steps. “Lemme get ya somethin’ to drink, alright, luv?” Whenever you were out together, he would always make you drink some water without ruining your fun. You didn't always notice. “Sure, baby,” you smiled, all wet lips and pretty white teeth. Hobie let his eyes roam your face before tearing himself away and getting a shot glass. He filled it up with water and handed it to you. “Here ya go, dovey,” You stared sceptically down at the clear liquid in front of you, frowning. “It’s tequila,” he added, hoping to make you take the shot, like the dozen you’d taken before. You met his eye, brows low. “Like fuck it is.” He held his breath, sucking his tongue. Curse you for being so attractive when you acted defiant. “I’m not that drunk, you know, I can still differentiate water from tequila,” you spoke, chin lifted high. Hobie scanned your face, holding back a smirk. Glassy eyes, slurred speech, no balance whatsoever. He knew you well. Of course you were very, very far from sober and of course you wouldn't admit it. “Just drink it, alright?” he pressed, pinching the bridge of his nose to cover his smirk. “Fine, I’m drinking it, but it’s only because you’re so pretty, okay? So, it’s kind of a ‘fuck you’, just so you know.” He chuckled and nodded despite not understanding what you meant.

You run off after that and he returns to his conversation about neo-anarchism. But he loses sight of you for a few minutes and excuses himself, wanting to check up on you. He finds you outside, trying to convince your even drunker friend to come inside rather than sleeping in the grass. You’re lightly shaking her shoulder, whispering to her. “C’mon, babes, come inside. You can sleep on the couch, just not here, okay? I promise it's so much more comfortable.” Hobie’s heart warms at the sight of you caring for your friend despite the state you’re in. “Look, if you don’t get up, Imma give you a real slap and see how you like that,” you finally threaten, fed up. Hobie laughs when your friend gets up, grumbling, and heads inside.

“There y’are, lovely,” he speaks warmly, “’was looking f’you,” You tear your eyes away from your friend’s retreating form and look up at him. He looks even more beautiful under the moonlight, his silver piercing reflecting slightly. “Were you?” “Hmm,” he hums, lifting your chin and pressing a kiss to your lips. “Was worried ‘bout you,” “I’m fine,” you assure, grinning widely. “Really?” he cocks an eyebrow. You’re about to answer and say that, yes, really, you’re fine, but your stomach lurches and next thing you know you’re hunched over, the contents of your stomach spilling out into your friend’s bushes.

Hobie lets out a curse and quickly gathers your hair and pulls it back at the nape of your neck, getting it all out of your face. He rubs your back soothingly, whispering sweet things into your ear. “It’s okay, let it out, let it all out, baby, you’ll feel better afterwards.” When you’re done, he hands you a Kleenex and wipes your teary eyes, pouting slightly. “I’m so sorry, that was so fuckin’ disgusting,” you moan. He would probably be disgusted with you for weeks and would never want to ever look at you again. Your eyes started to well with tears. “Luv, y’know I don’t care ‘bout none of that,” he grins, kissing your cheek. “How ‘bout we get ya home, yeah?” “Yeah,” you look down, “that’s probably a good idea,”

When you’re back at his apartment, you shower together, and he helps you into bed. You’re out like a light, and he presses a kiss to your forehead, placing an Ibuprofen and a glass of water on your nightstand for the next morning. He smiles softly when you turn around to face him when he slides between the covers, your gentle breath fanning his face. You were a dumbass sometimes, but you were still his dumbass.

[ridiculousn3sswrites]

Whose White Baby?

*Hobie Brown (Across the Spider-Verse) x POC Reader

*Summary: You come home from work to find a little white baby crawling around your apartment. Cue the baby fever.

*Warnings: Swearing, sex jokes. Let me know if I missed anything.

Tip Jar

**********

Dating Spider-Punk was definitely a wild experience; you never knew what to expect from the man. You could tell he was definitely the “Cool Cousin” to the younger Spiders, especially with how often one (or more) of the teens would stop by randomly with him. What you definitely didn’t expect was coming home from work to find a little white child literally climbing the walls of your flat. 

“Hobie?” You called out, putting your bag down as your eyes followed the movement of the random baby.

“Yeah, babes?” Hobie was busy in the kitchen, not paying attention to whatever Spider-Menace he had brought back this time. Gwen you could handle, after all she was a teen and could (mostly) handle herself, but a literal baby? Nah, he had some explaining he needed to do.

“Whose white baby is in our flat right now?”

“Don’t know whatcha mean.”

“What do you mean you don’t- Hobie, there’s a little red headed baby here! I think I’d remember if I’d seen her before. And I know for a fact I didn’t have her.”

“Oh, right, that baby. That’s Mayday, little anarchist,” Hobie said, 

“That explains nothing, Hobie. Who the hell is Mayday?”

“Relax, babes. Peter asked me to watch her while he’s on a mission.” Normally you loved Hobie’s couldn’t-be-bothered attitude, but you needed a little more information here. You sighed heavily, cueing Hobie into your annoyance. “Right, right. Peter’s another Spider, Mayday’s his kid, he got sent on a mission on his wife would probably kill ‘im if he took Mayday on another one.”

“And she ended up in our flat how?”

“I was the only one available. C’mon, look at the little rebel. How could you say no to this?” As soon as he asked the question, Mayday dropped into his hands from the ceiling. He held her up to your eye level, and the little smile she gave you with those puppy dog eyes just made you give in.

“Alright, fine, but I’m not changing any diapers.”

“Told ya she’d let you stay,” Hobie told Mayday as you walked past him to get something to snack on. You shot him a withering glare, only for him to give you his small smile that always gave you butterflies. You couldn’t let him know that though, so instead you rolled your eyes at him.

**********

You always thought you were immune to the baby fever your friends always talked about as you got older, but you were beginning to see the appeal in this whole thing as you watched Hobie with Mayday. There was just something about the soft way he talked to her, the way he carefully watched her as she crawled around and up your walls. Don’t even get me started on the way he carried her on his hip when he went about doing things around your flat.

You kept stealing glances at him while you worked on your laptop. You’d been with Hobie long enough that you’d seen him interacting with kids, but those were mostly young teens. There was just something different about seeing Hobie with an actual bay that got your heart racing. He sat there with Mayday perched on his knee, bouncing her as he read some children’s book that Peter must have sent her with. No way. No way you were having baby fever. You didn’t even want kids, right?

You could feel your face heating up, trying to focus your attention back on the work in front of you. You just needed to get this report done, and then you could deal with whatever feelings you were having about Hobie. Specifically, Hobie with a baby. Hobie with your baby? Your mind provided you with a brief flash of Hobie carrying a child with his hair and your eyes, maybe a little leather jacket. Now that would be cute, with little combat boots-

Woah, you need to calm down. You shook your head, your typing starting back up again. You just needed to finish this report and-

“You aight there, babes?” Hobie asked, shifting Mayday to stare at you with him. “Thought you were s’posed to be working.”

“I am working, what’re you on about?”

“Nah, you’re not working, you keep lookin’ at me.” His slight taunt sent a shiver through you, but your annoyance was greater right now.

“Maybe I’m just lookin at the baby, ever think that?”

“Nah, not with that look you got goin on.” Your face felt like it was on fire, so you did what any reasonable person would do: you shut your laptop and stood up, preparing to go hide away in your room while you tried to calm down and finish this report. As you walked to your room, you heard Hobie behind you. “Aw, c’mon babes, I didn’t mean nothin’ by it-”

The door clicked closed before you could hear the end of his sentence. You let out a heavy sigh, heavier than you’d originally intended. Right, all you needed to do was focus on your work and then you could go back out to Hobie and Mayday. Maybe working on client portfolios for a little while would help clear your mind.

**********

Eventually, your work was done and you couldn’t just hide from your boyfriend for the rest of the night. When you opened the bedroom door to find Hobie smiling down at Mayday softly snoring away in his arms. You had half the mind to just turn around and walk back into the room, needing to get away from the heart melting moment in front of you. It was too late though, Hobie had already spotted you. “Done with work now?”

“Yeah, just had to finish up some things.” Hobie hummed in acknowledgement, watching as Mayday slept. He looked back up at you, that softness still in his eyes. “Babes, could you do me a favor?”

You gave an exaggerated sigh, sitting next to him. “Alright, what is it?”

“Just hold her for a second, alright? I’ve hadta use the bathroom for ages now.”

“What? Hobie!” It was too late, Hobie had already placed the little redhead in your lap, leaving you with no choice but to watch as he nearly ran to the bathroom. You huffed, looking at the child in your lap, still snoozing away. “It’s kinda amazing you slept through that.”

You adjusted so you were holding Mayday the way Hobie had been before he abandoned you both, looking down at the sleeping child. Her red curls were mussed up, and you wondered just how your own kid would look fresh from a nap.

 “Guess you’re not so bad, kinda cute if anything,” you mumbled to her as she shifted in your arms. For a split second, you were scared she was going to wake up, but your fears were quickly allayed as she settled down again. “I’m still gonna kill ‘im though, with his damn tricks.”

There wasn’t much you could do with this child just sleeping in your arms, so you let your mind wander as you just held her. You still had to make dinner, you didn’t know how long Mayday would be here for, you were really glad you had the day off tomorrow. Eventually, as you continued your rambling of thoughts, you started humming just to add some background noise to the too quiet flat.

“I knew you’d like her, you should see the headache having her ‘round gives Miguel,” Hobie’s voice jolted you out of the little bubble you’d managed to be in. You barely managed to control the little jump you had. “Love to imagine what kind of damage our kid would do.”

“Jeez, Hobie, give me a warning next time,” you said before taking a second to register what he’d just told you. Your wide eyes followed him as he hopped over the back of the couch, putting his arm around you as he settled in. “Wait, whatcha mean ‘our kid’?”

“You know, for someone with a fancy job ‘n all, you think you’d get the simple things. Y’know, a kid we have. Like, together.”

“You want a kid with me?” You asked, still dumbfounded by how casual he was about all this. Sure, you were pretty sure Hobie was endgame for you, but he wasn’t the type to normally talk about all this. Now that you thought about it, this was exactly the way he’d drop this kind of news on you. You really weren’t sure why you were so surprised at first.

“Yeah, course I do. I mean, long as you wanna have one. I know we haven’t talked ‘bout it much, but ever since this little menace popped up I been thinking ‘bout it,” Hobie started rambling, his normally cool facade cracking just the slightest bit until he saw the smug little smile on your face. “Never mind, I change my mind.”

“Oh c’mon, let me enjoy you being a lil sappy, it never happens!” You laughed, leaning your head on his shoulder. That was a lie, Hobie was soft with you more than he’d care to admit. And lord knows he wouldn’t admit it in front of anyone else.

“Alright, I change my mind back.”

“You never changed it in the first place,” you teased. “Do you know when Peter’s supposed to be back?”

“Why, you excited to start tryin’?” There was the Hobie you were used to. You just rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the heat rising in your face. You looked down at the sleeping child in your arms, only for Hobie to tilt your chin back up to look at him. The warmth in his eyes made your heart melt, even as he had that cocky little smirk on his lips. You leaned up slightly, trying not to jostle Mayday, as you gave him a quick kiss. “Right, yeah, I’ll see if I can get hold of Peter.”

“Who’s excited now?”

“Babes, I never claimed I wasn’t.”

[cubitodragon-moved]

Yesterday Mike added more fuel to my “Tubbo is bugged” theory and it’s making me extra worried about what’s going to happen this week LOL.

This post is rambly and long, so I’m sticking things behind a cut!

Mike’s memories of the last 3+ weeks are scrambled and foggy; an interrupted El Quackity treatment? Unclear. But between saying he doesn’t remember anything and then spouting off pro-Federation propaganda (something his anarchist ass would never willingly do!) and fiercely trying to pin blame to Fit as a traitor, a comment by him during one of the questioning sessions stood out to me.

When Fit asked who told him his janitor duties were fake/a front, that he couldn’t be trusted, he said Cucurucho.

We and FitMC know that the Feds are sus of Fit, but they’ve had no actual concrete evidence that he’s been misusing his position to obtain information. And yet now Cucurucho, supposedly, is informing Mike of this so called betrayal?

If we think back to the prison cleanup in August, there was a room that had a chess board map on the wall. Only two pieces were present: a queen and a pawn. And the pawn was positioned on a clear way to indicate it’s meant to represent Fit. A warning - possibly to Fit from the ghost entity in the Prison (or someone in a neighbouring pocket dimension, if recent ruminations and theories on the server have any legs) that aided Pac and Mike, OR the Federation itself, reminding him of who has the power and who is always watching.

But they have yet to take any action. And always praised his work when completed.

Enter: Tubbo. Who arrived on the Island as part of a group rescued from a mysterious location. One with lots of strange blocks, code-eggs, frozen floors and who himself was frozen away. Shortly after, Mike and Pac ventured back to that location to explore, and when he entered the tower, the floor vanished and Mike fell. Fell down into a pool of water at the bottom of a trap lined in black concrete, and then frozen.

During Mike’s absence, Tubbo has gotten to know the “morning crew”, has gotten up in everyone’s business. I’ve outlined some highlights in another post. But more recently, every time he talks to Fit about his cleaning job, he’s picked at it again and again. Freaks out over the badge and keycard - especially over the keycard. (This feels important, for more than just Tubbo’s excuses of it being bugged, but I can’t put my finger on why, yet.). Tubbo whines when Fit won’t give him direct insight, or tell him detailed specifics on what he’s found on the job. Fit has made it clear he will not jeopardise his position to satisfy Tubbo’s need to meta-game win over the system to know everything, resulting in accusations, and Tubbo commenting privately to his own chat that this makes Fit untrustworthy in his eyes. Tubbo has been careless with some of his questions. They’ve been asked topside, sideways comments uttered with side eye. He wants to KNOW what Fit is after.

And Fit did spill to Tubbo that he’s not just there for the obvious. Yes, He IS looking for something. Yeah, he IS trying to find things out about the Codes, the Eggs, and the Federation - he wants his beautiful baby boy (made in Heaven by God Himself) back home safe and sound.

But this has not been successful, never mind the long absence of any work in the last few weeks..and we the viewers know that things he has found have been incomplete, or need more time to cook before he goes to others with evidence. Fit is meticulous, his life on 2B2T trained this into him in order to survive. You don’t last 10 years in an anarchy wasteland without being prepared. Better and safer to leave things unsaid than having to walk them back later. And there’s no point in sharing what isn’t relevant to the matter at hand.

And now Mike - who Fit calls friend, who he bonded with, who he swore to help locate Walter Bob with - said Cucurucho told him that Fit was a traitor, and wasn’t looking for what he said he was, even point blank accused him of lying yesterday about what he’s looking for. And when pressed about what he’d found so far when on janitor duty, Fit had to admit that no, he hadn’t found anything related to the Eggs or the Code.

Mike seemed to take that as proof of his lying about what he’s doing. That what he was told was right. But admitting to a lack of success doesn’t make one a liar. And Fit telling him he found nothing is also a smart play - lose lips sink ships, and better to be thought incompetent. Especially if the Federation are now trying to flush you - and perhaps your ties to your employer, outside the island - out into the open.

The Federation did not know about Ramón’s furnaces until Tubbo did. And they didn’t know Fit was in it for more than the obvious until he spoke with Tubbo. They can’t get Tubbo to take on Fit, but they can use a different pawn they have on the board instead.

I may well be completely off base. And I’ll be delighted if I am. It’s been so much fun to theorise about the lore on QSMP! But mark my words, we need to pay much more attention over the next 48 hours. And who knows what everyone will come back to in a week’s time?

[yournewfriendshouse]

when I have an overwhelming task in front of me like…how do I build community, the answer as an incredibly awkward autistic person (who didn’t even know they were autistic for so long) has always been to look at what I’m already doing and start to broaden what I was doing from that point.

so you’re extremely online and you want to build community? what are you doing online? maybe you can start there

are you posting photos of your crochet work? maybe you can find a local group that meets in the library (high chance a group that meets in a library is free)

you like talking about music? is there a community choir around you can join?

the thing is we’re all super tired and it can be so so hard to straight off the bat be like ok where the like…anarchist affirmative community action group?

because that group will probably be happy to have another member but if you’ve forgotten how to talk to people in words instead of text it can be really hard. esp if you’re not actually familiar with a lot of the language they use and stuff.

also the people at the crochet group and the choir are still people who live in your local area and there is a chance that when something bad happens for one of their members that they will do what they can to help them. or maybe they do a crochet baby blanket charity thing that helps local babies, or something like that.

the thing to know about local stuff is that communities are just made up of people. anywhere you turn there are people, and there is a chance that they are someone that the affirmative action group may not get to

community is community. you are community! the person who checks out your groceries is community (and they are always so kind to me guys and that is such a big difference to my life as a disabled person like you wouldn’t believe)

and I guess that’s the point, if you start to look outwards from where you are and you start to be just a little more kind than you’re already doing then you will already be making a difference. and as time goes on you will find more and more people to help, and you will be able to help them hopefully because people are also helping you. this is what community is

[thatbigbisexual29]

Big Brother Hobie (Across The Spiderverse)

*hypes self up* Ok! My first fic I’m actually posting on this account! I made this a day after I saw the movie and fell head over heels for these two! Mainly Hobie, but Pavitr is such a gem and I couldn’t not write for him! I hope whoever comes across this enjoys it! And thanks to @gladdygirl18 who helped me out with actually posting this :)

Hobie was the big brother. Everyone can agree on that. Although he was a punk anarchist, he secretly cared for all his friends. Even Miles, who was a new face to the party, he felt extra protective of. But the people he was especially fond of were Pavitr, Gewn, and Peter B. Parker. He let Gwen crash at his place because she couldn’t go back to her own universe, so he took care of her. Plus, they loved to hit and scream their emotions into whatever song they jammed to. Pavitr wanted to be in on the punk rock fun, but he only knew how to play the Sarangi. He was very talented and skilled, but the Sarangi wasn’t the instrument for punk bands. They still let him come to their jam sessions! (Although he did try to hold a therapy session for the two once they were done.)

And just like Gwen, Pavitr liked to crash with Hobie on occasion. Hobie was more than welcome to let anyone stay at his London apartment, as long as they didn’t leave too much of a mess. Who was he kidding though? With all his Spider-Maning he could barely keep tabs on it. Until, the blessed, godsent Pavitr dropped by while he was out and cleaned the whole place for him. Hobie almost shed a tear. And Peter? Honestly, Hobie loved taking care of Mayday. And he loved her name. Peter would never admit it, but he talked about baby names with Hobie one night and that was the result. And he’s just a great babysitter too.

So, collectively, their little spider gang unofficially announced him as the ‘big brother.’ Hobie didn’t mind. It actually made him feel all nice inside. Not that we would tell anyone. Gotta keep that tough bravado, eh? But there were moments with his friends he could be soft. Most recent one was with Pavitr when he portaled in, still in his Spider-Man gear.

“What’s this, then? Just got done running the jig?” Hobie nodded to him as he sat on his couch, legs propped up on his coffee table with a remote in hand. He shut off the tv as Pav groaned and flopped onto the couch, chest in Hobie’s lap. Hobie huffed a chuckle, pulling off his friend’s mask and tossing it to the side. “Rough one, was it?”

Pavitr sighed and nodded, face hidden by a couch cushion. Feeling sympathy for the younger man, Hobie patted his back.

“I’s jus’ watchin’ the telly, want me to turn it back on? Background noise an all,” Hobie suggested, but Pav just shook his head.

“How have you been, Hobie? Everything ok in your universe?” Pavitr asked, turning his head to look at his friend. How the hell is this kid such a sweetheart? Hobie wondered as he reached down and ruffled his perfect hair.

“S’all cuppa ‘ere, nofin I can’t handle. Still coals and coke, but what else is new? S’going ons wit you? Got some pain in your noddy’s?” Hobie nearly barked out a laugh at the offended look Pav gave him. Scratch that, he did laugh.

“Excuse me?” he asked. Hobie chuckled into his fist.

“Do your shoulder’s hurt?” he simplified. Pavitr pushed up onto his hands and once he rotated his shoulders, he groaned and fell right back onto Hobie’s lap.

“Problem found. ‘Ere, lemme getcha.” Hobie sat up and cracked his knuckles, getting into position.

“Oh, Hobie, you don’t have to-” Pav started.

“Ah, hush. I owe you one. Now let your brova ‘Obie take care ‘ya.”

And with that, Hobie got to work, he kneaded his thumbs into Pavitr’s shoulders, smirking with satisfaction at the relieved moan that left Pav’s chest. They sat in silence as Hobie worked out all the knots in Pav’s back, going from his shoulders all the way down his spine. The only responses he got were satisfied grunts, groans, sighs, and hums from Pavitr as he melted into Hobie’s lap. The kid was really stiff. He must’ve been overworkin’ himself, Hobie thought, s’not good. I should tell him to calm it down. Before he could get a word out, he heard a small squeak come from Pavitr’s mouth. He looked over to see Pav with both hands covering his lips with his eyes shut.

“Oi, was funny? You havin’ a bubble at me? I ain’t hurtin’ you, am I?” Hobie asked as he leaned up to get a better view of Pav’s face. He didn’t look like he was in pain. When he peaked his eyes open to look at the older man, they had a happy twinkle to them.

“N-No no! I’m- fihihine! But, your hahands…” Pav looked towards his back. Hobie followed his gaze and realized both of his hands were placed around his sides. A mischievous grin crossed Hobie’s face as his eyes flicked back to Pavitr’s face. Pav looked back at him with an adorable expression that just said “I can’t stop you, but I’m gonna try to look cute so you think about not doing it.” Hobie smirked and pinched the back of Pav’s neck, causing him to squeal and arch his neck back.

“Y’know, s’rude to laugh at your friends, Pav,” Hobie purred close to his friend’s ear. Pavitr let out a string of high pitched giggles and grabbed handfuls of the couch cushions beneath him.

“H-Hobieheehee! Wait wait wait! Lehehet’s talk! Dohohon’t- eek!” Pav snickered then squeaked as the older male skittered his long fingers directly up his spine.

“Nah, don’t fink I will. You need some good, ol’ fashioned, relaxation, mate. And I know exactly how to get you relaxed! So jus let big brova ‘Obie… getcha!” Hobie quickly grabbed Pavitr’s sides and squeezed, drinking in his girlish shriek. He laughed and wiggled his fingers into the slightly pudgy flesh. Pavitr thrashed in his lap but ultimately didn’t move from his spot. Just awkwardly pushed himself up before falling back down and beating the arm of the sofa senseless.

“Hohohohohohohohohohohohobieeeeeeeee! It tihihihihihihickles! It tihihihihihckles so bahahahahahahaaaaaad!” Pav whined through his laughs, alternating which side he scrunched up so he looked like a belly dancer. Hobie let out a loud ‘hah!’ when he saw this.

“Oh yeah, show off ya moves, Pav! Should I get a beat goin’? Unce, unce, unce, unce!” With every beat from his mouth, Hobie would do rhythmic squeezes on Pav’s sides. One, two, one one, two, one, two two. This drove the younger man up the wall (hee hee spiderman joke). Pavitr did his best to fight back. This included weak slapping on Hobie’s hands and futile attempts to crawl away. Hobie simply pulled him closer and tickled his ribs and armpits at the same time, switching between the two.

“AAAAAHAhahahahahaha! Hobieheeheeheeheeheeheehee! Pleheheheehehease!” Pavitr begged. Hobie smirked and scratched his rib bones, earning another girly shriek.

“Please wha, Pav? Please… keep ticklin’ ya? I can do that! Or is it please… tickle somewhere else? How about… here!” In a swift motion, Hobie moved his hands from his upper body to the back of his quads, making claws and digging into the flesh. Pavitr screamed and his thrashing renewed.

“Oh, has I found a tickle spot? Right under your buttocks, yea? Mate, that’s kinda embarrassin’. I ain’t one t’judge though. It's hilarious how much you’re tryin’ ta fight me, kiddo. Was it people say when they tickle kids? Oh, roight. Tic-kle tic-kle tic-kle~” Hobie grinned like the Cheshire cat as Pavitr lost his mind. Finally, Pavitr rolled off of Hobie’s lap and crashed to the ground, reflexively thwipping both of Hobie’s hands together.

“O-Ohohokay that's enohohough! I’m relahahaxed! No mohohohore plehehehehease!” Pavitr giggled out, lying flat on his back and sighing once the tickling was finally over. Hobie laughed and fished his pocket knife from his jacket, slicing the webbing from his hands. He tossed the knife on his coffee table and leaned over Pavitr without moving from his couch.

“You alright, yea?” he asked. With a few giggly breaths, Pav nodded. “Good. If I had killed ya, Gwendie would have killed me. ‘N ah don wan that. But seriously, mate, gotta go easy on the Spider-Man work, you feel me? ‘S why you’re so tense. If you keep dat up, y’won’t be able to move. You get what I’m sayin’, yeah? You’ve got an honest jam tart, an das good, just don’t be over usin’ it,” Hobie instructed. He could tell Pav was listening, which was good, but the younger man did cock his eyebrow at the last sentence.

“But… I don’t have a jam tart…?” he said with confusion, looking around to see if he had accidentally brought something jelly filled from his dimension. Hobie snickered then laughed, holding his stomach.

“You are way too funny, man. Go take a shower, you smell.”

“Not as bad as you…” Pavitr mumbled, immediately bolting for Hobie’s bathroom.

“Oi, the nerve of ya! Get back here, ya hooligan bastard!” Hobie was up in a flash, thwipping Pavitr to the floor.

Needless to say, Pavitr got another good taste of what having an older brother is like. And Hobie got to mess around with a best friend. He could get used to being the big brother every now and again.

[leadergorilla]

I can’t take it even anarchists try to justify ethnic cleansing for the sake of harm reduction. I’m not going to sit here and let Aaron die for fucking nothing. I won’t. If you sit here and accept that killing thousands of babies is justified in anyway then you deserve to lose your rights that you’re so determined to harm reduce for.

[all-things-are-nothing-to-me]

Hello. Forgive if this is a tad weird, but I was just wondering why you are into zines and if there are more effective ways of activism? (I don’t think activism is the word I am searching for but propaganda also feels wrong and preachy. but a bit of preachiness is necessary, right?)

I come from a leftist punk background and have been in such bands for not very long. Recently I got into anti civ circles and found music scenes (even vegan straight edge, the scene I’m central to rn) to be very reductive and more about consuming and creating than actioning anything meaningful. Accessibility seems like a big issue as well which I think zines address well.

I was wondering if you think efforts would be best suited towards other things like making zines (something I have also been doing for a little while), or if I am only going to be reaching the audience who already has an interest in these things? What drew you to zines over other methods of ‘activism?’ I’ve also dabbled in sticker slapping, street art, tree spiking, but nothing too radical as of yet. Is this the right way to approach it? I just want to do everything I can to live in accordance with what I believe.

I was an ancom from 2002-2012. I did the other types of organizing for years. I didn't get burned out, I more or less grew to hate leftists and leftism. As to what drew me to zines specifically, idk. I've been collecting them since I was a teen. I have literally thousands of them. I do know why I keep printing and distributing them tho. Zines can be very direct and are less intimidating than books to baby anarchists.

I bring zines to where kids are. People who don't even know what a zine is will come up and grab some. I was homeless for years, so I'm very comfortable with talking to strangers and have the patience to not be offended by people's ignorance. Trust, I got plenty of practice with insane homebums.

I can't tell you what is the right way to go about it. I don't have many friends who still identify with the left and their modes of organizing but I have no problem working with those who do. Just don't ask me to attend any meetings or marches. It took me years to come to the post/anti left side. But I don't regret my time as a left anarchist. I did lots of cool worthwhile stuff, now I do things for me and my friends, without the mass movement even being considered.

Plus zines are fun to make and can be as wingnutty as you.

Anyways, don't rush it. You can learn from your mistakes and still do cool stuff.

Stay vegan, stay edge, live free.

[molotoph]

Magic functionally is a shorthand for the intricate systemic structures of white supremacy’s power by reducing them from a massive stranglehold of checks and balances to uphold each other ad infinitum, to a single power source that when removed removes all of their weapons and ability to enforce their own genocidal order, you obstinate shit brained brat.

Let’s check our notes on how well America’s beautiful and totally real democracy is working out for the reduction of genocide against indigenous people at home and abroad, how it’s working out protecting the lives and rights of black people, of trans people, of the poverty class. OH RIGHT IT’S FUCKING NOT, AND IT ULTIMATELY IS WORKING AS IT WAS DESIGNED TO WORK. But whatever, enjoy your corporate sponsored brat summer.

Telling anarchy to constantly look for a “better option” when what you mean is “an option where neither I nor the ruling class whose aesthetics make me endlessly sympathetic to and patient with them never have to lose anything uwu” is just a refusal to engage with a reality that at the end of the day you aren’t willing to allow in. I have my lattes and my duvet but I also have my fucking rage, I have my love for my human siblings the globe over, I have my comrades’ support to lean on when I’m weak. My praxis defines how I seek a better world. You don’t get to keep whiteness.

Nobody gets to keep whiteness. I don’t want it. It is a stain on me that separates me from others who rightfully must shut it out. But sure. I’m not worth arguing with. “Arguing to” you’re not giving me your dnc debate. An argument isn’t a matter of preaching. I don’t think you’re worth arguing with either, you leave the taste of Vaush and blue wave in my mouth. I’m showing your words to other people to show how y’all aren’t interested in any revolution because when we get down to it sweetheart, you don’t find anything wrong enough to leave. And other anarchists can do the work to try to hold baby’s little hand through understanding human rights, but I won’t bother. You being angy isn’t as valuable as time that could be spent with my comrades, with learning history, with trying to save lives by killing Nazis.

“Nazis didn’t use magic uwu” no shit. They used the irl equivalent. If we had magic here you wouldn’t fucking understand anyway. “Distribute the whiteness instead” You poor thing.

Tell me what the difference is in what it does to cities and human bodies between carpet bombing and a horizon darkened by 12 story suits of armor. The difference between a wand blast and a drone strike. Does a sparkle cupcake blast shield your delicate little eyes from the gore of a child shot twice in the head better from the same body they leave dead. Is a body mangled under hundreds of unicorn hooves functionally different than one run over by a tank.

You aesthetics diehards don’t have shit to say. “Buh buh the framing” makes you feel better about your culpability in an imperial core. Sure is a lot of flowery prose layered on top of “I don’t care enough to be willing to change anything.” We’re all trapped in it. I’m American, and I’m culpable for not doing enough to stop this. I’m afraid of getting butchered by fascists and my fear paralysis lets them kill unimpeded by me. I am willing to own my failures here. I am willing to let them hurt me and I am hoping my anger and my love will soon override my fear. What exactly are you holding onto that bends your body into a human shield of the fascist state. Your comfort isn’t as valuable to them as you think it is. Your comfort isn’t an impenetrable wall keeping the revolution out.

[lunar-goodness]

Just finally got around to watching Across the Spider-verse…. what the actual fuck‽‽‽ it’s great but what the actual fuck‽‽‽‽‽ I was not expecting a “to be continued” that threw me for a loop. But as always, animation *chef’s kiss*!!!! Now to get into it. The Spot (stupid name by the way) is fucking hilarious. Kinda causes his own problems but who among us doesn’t? Fuck canon events! I want to fuck Miguel and it seems that’s the general consensus. Hobie is amazing!!!!! “The kids an anarchist” just taking random shit and pushing random buttons just because, that’s how I wanna live my life tbh! Peter just having his baby with him in extremely dangerous situations but at least he’s aware this is in fact bad parenting!! Pavitr!!!!!!!!!!!!! He’s adorable I love him, “being spider man is so easy” famous last words my guy! Earth 42’s Miles!!!!!!!!!!!! He’s the prowler‽‽‽ His dad would be so disappointed, those braids are killer though! Our Miles being tied to the punching bag, I was just waiting for the “should’ve been watching the hands” moment and apparently I’m gonna have to keep waiting. I’m gonna have to give this a few more watch throughs. Do we have a date for the next one??

[catgirlforeskin]

I hope the liberalism of shallow terminology and hyper-individualistic competition between groups is serving you well. I see from your retard baby posts you're really moving on up in the world

I genuinely can’t tell if this is about me being a feminist or an anarchist, a lot of overlap between the MRA and ML hatemail right now. Which I’m sure means nothing

[jotunvali02]

Playing Ace Attorney, Rise of the Ashes part 6 or "Stop hurting my baby, Taku!!"

"What good it is to dwell on the past?" "He's asking ME?"

At least Feenie is self-aware enough to recognize he's obsessed with the past!

Huh? Ever since Gmushoe became Detective, he wants to throw himself out of a window???

Queen Bitch Fee-Fee back in the competition!

Why are such a cunt with Gumshoe anyway? Yeah, he's not very smart, but you're not really better with your complete and annoying dumbness which is only compensated by teenage girls and ghosts, or with your scary total lack of empathy.

"That guy starts to get on my nerves!" Well, YOU're starting to get on mine, big bitch!!

Bitch, now you're HIDING important evidence?? And you're pissed at Gumshoe bc of his so-called dumbness while you're overly and clealry way more stupid than him today??

Wait wait!! Girl. You've been puking shit over shit about Lana for 2 years and now you say she's the most perfect and kindest angel?? WTF?? You're not only incompetent and stupid, you have a fucked up brain!!🧠🥴

Oh now, Fee-Fee's hiding another piece of evidence?? You're no better than Gant, bitch!

"What are you, my mom??" OMG, FUCK YOU Phoenix! 🤬 What are YOU?? A teenage bitch?? EMA is the one who's 16, not you!

Aaaand Gumshoe is fired.

"It seems Edgeworth was right about you."

gasp!

My baby said «Wright is beautiful» to his Chief too?? 😭💘

«Nothing incriminating her»?? Bitch, there were THOUSANDS of evidence against her!!

And you think you’re cleverer than Gumshoe?? You do worse than forgetting your ID card, you forget about your own evidence and you own trials!!

«Do not forget your place», his place is being YOUR fucking defense attorney!! Again, you’re not Chief Prosecutor anymore, you’re his fucking CLIENT!! WHY do you still talk as if it’s not the case??

"Miss Skye, why did you and Gant hurt my baby boyfriend?"

Demon Gant put a fucking corpse in my baby’s car??

*gasp* Baby! ^^

*accidental glomp*

«We don’t have time to talk!» But you will help me, my sweet, soft sugar baby, right???😍

Eeeeeee!!! 😍😍😍😍 My baby’s "Objection!" saves the day again!! I love you!!!

«Why aren't you a good boy and keep your mouth shut?» «Fuck off, Chief.»

OOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHH !!!!!

FUCK THE POLICE! FUCK AUTHORITY!! ANARCHIST EDGEY!!!

«Sorry, but I’m no longer the naive little boy you’d have me be.» *Camera on Wright. * Yes, why don’t YOU remember that fact, Fee-Fee ?????

Edgey’s direct superior: «Mr Edgeworth. I am exercising my right to self-representation!»

Edgey: «YOU FUCK OFF TOO!»

"FUCK AUTHORITY! FUCK CHIEFS! FUCK THE POLICE!! FUCK PROSECUTORS! FUCK THE LAW!! AND FUCK ME!!"

«No matter how tragic the truth may be, it’s an even greater tragedy to avoid’s one eyes from it.»

Oh my sweet, wise, too much hurt baby... 😭

«I’m not the bad guy!»   I know! And Fee-Fee knows too! And Ema knows too! 😭

Come here so I hug you and kiss your cheek in front the whole court to show that I know you’re just a sweet baby.

«Poor Ema, I’m glad she wasn’t hurt.»

Mmmmmmph!!! 😡😡😡

You’ve been knowing her for barely 3 DAYS and what she lived was way less monstrous than Edgey, aka someone you’ve been OBSESSING over and stalking for 15 years and someone who wants to quit the only job he’s ever known and loves because of all the pitless amount of traumatic bullshit and hate (including heavy self-hate) he’s been thrown at his face in barely 4 days, then 3 days, and it’s HER you...!!!

Or is she supposed to be a female teen proxy of Edgeworth (since she lived sth similar to what he lived)? So it's her we feel bad for? Personnally I don't need that to feel sad for my baby Edgey!

But it's because it's known adult men don't have feelings and certainly can't have traumas and can't feel fear or sadness! Or else they're just weak and girlies!

Uuuugh!! I love Japan but their heavy & MASSIVE sexism/misogyny/dudebro-ing pisses me off so MUCH!!

«The trauma of the situation understandably caused her to faint.» 😭😭😭I’m genuinely crying now. My baby...💔

«Do you really need to torture that girl any further??»

Baby bitch, it’s YOU who asked for her testimony in the first place!

But I think what he means here is «Did you really have to torture ME like this, Wright? Forcing me to relive my worst traumatic memories?» 😭😭😭

And they’re bickering like a couple now.

«Don’t you remember a litte sth called "falsified evidence"?» «I’m going to murder you, Wright...»

Ah, this isn’t the knife I was thinking about but ok.

Oh my fucking, fucking GOD!!! *hits her forehead 3 times*

HOW ARE YOU SO DUMB PHOENIX??? YOU CAN’T UNDERSTAND YOUR OWN OBJECTIONS AND EXPLANATIONS NOW???

AND GUMSHOE IS THE STUPID ONE??

REALLLYY???

Wait. WHY can’t we go back to when Ema said the victim was stabbed in the chest while the autopsy report says he was stabbed in the back?? That’s pretty important information, isn’t it?

«Miss Skye was almost killed before being a witness for a murder case. A little disorientation is natural.»

My baby. My BABYYYY!!! 😭😭😭😭😭😭

«We can’t get dead pople to testify.» Are you SURE about that, Phoenix??

ARE YOU SURE???

You've really instantly forgotten about your OWN fucking trial of 2 months ago!

That explains why you almost don’t give a fuck about Edgey’s heavy distress and why it’s EMA who’s kind and compassionate with him while SHE has just met him and in all logic it should be YOU!

Or is being a man who genuinely cares about the suffering of another man already "TOO GAY"???

Motherfuckin' jeez!!!

«There is only thing we seek: the truth.»  Marry me, baby.💍

«Do you understand what you’ve done now, Worthy? Joe Darke was sentenced to death bc of this final murder. I believe you were the prosecutor back then.» *gaaaaaasp*

You appalling asshole, manipulative douchebag, bastard of my balls!!

SHUT UP!!! YOU SHUT UP ASSHOLE!!!

NO!!! 😭 My baby! My baby Edgey!! 😭😭😭

Yes Fee-Fee! Protect your husband!!

«How can he stand there as if it’s not his fault?!»

SHUT UP YOU BUNCH OF RABID MONKEYS!! What do you expect? What do you want? My baby bursting into tears and yelling?? SHUT UP!!! You have no idea how he’s feeling, how he’s been feeling for the past 3 days, the past two months and the past 15 years!!

Again where’s your fucking senses of memory and empathy, you brainless fucks??

If I was the Judge, I would sentence ALL of you fuckers to death and everyone who pushed my baby Edgey to his wish to kill himself to a fucking slow and painful DEATH!

«We’re not defenders of justice, we're keepers of the law.» Hmmmm....

«I’m sorry, Edgeworth..»

Sorry? "SORRY???"

HUG HIM you stupid bastard!!

«I’ve seen happier ppl at funerals.»

Shut. Up. SHUT!! UP!!!!!!! 😭😭😭

«This case has hurt too many people.» He said while staring at his upset, sweet husband.💕

"The inquiry committee will impose harsh penalties on you."

NO!!! NO!!!

Why won’t you leave my sweet baby ALONE??? 😭😭😭 😭😭😭 😭😭😭

TAKU,  WHAT’S YOUR GODDAMN PROBLEM, HURTING & WHUMPING THE SWEETEST BABY EVER ENDLESSLY LIKE THAT????

«Thank you, your Honor.» OMG he REALLY doesn’t give a shit anymore.

Feenie «Oh, my baby has found to way to carry on the trial!»💙

DON’T YOUR FUCKING TALK POWER OUTAGE IN AN ELEVATOR, YOU MOTHERFUCKER!!

"Moving a body and hiding evidence are inexcusable." Ooooh, you mean what YOU have exactly done??

«Dick will receive his due punishment.» 😆 Why did you have to give him that name in the English version?

«To accuse the Police Chief of blackmail and murder?? That impossible!!»

Bitch, that’s what EVERY Chief of the Police in the world does!

«Wright, there’s no turning back for us now. Let’s marry!»

«The purpose of this trial is to determine the truth!»

Oh I’ll be your truth anytime, baby!

"OBJECTION!"

*pterodactylic screeeeech!!!* My baby is saving his husband again!! 😭

Gant...

Gumshoe... I’d LOVE to see you work with Phoenix! Not sure he would love that tho.

That bitch.

Baby Edgey... I just want to play with your soft hair all day long.🥰

«Everyone who knew Lana said she had changed. But perhaps it was an easier way for her.»

My baby! My baby!😭😭😭 LET ME HUG MY BABY DAMMIT!!!

«She must have shut herself up deep inside.» 😭😭😭😭😭😭

«Must be why she became so cold.» yeaaaah, but doesn’t it remind you of someone ELSE, Phoenix???

Like the person right IN FRONT OF YOU?????

«Blame society, pal!!»

On vit dans une saucisse!! 🌭🌭🌭 Anarchist Gumshoe, yeah bitch!!

Death sentence again?? For one murder and one forgery?? Is it so easily given in that world??

Or is it the ONLY sentence that exists??

Man, that world SUCKS!

[joy-haver]

You use Facebook to occasionally post life updates and baby pictures. I use Facebook to flirt with middle aged and elderly women who I’m slowly turning into anarchists. We are not the same. We can still Makeout tho. If your interested