#but I'll keep posting and you guys can keep reading

[marigoos]

Updated scam alert

So, as some of you guys know, I've received an ask from a known scammer a few weeks ago. Since I found their main post reblogged by 300 or so people, thinking they were helping a palestinian diabetic lady, I made a pinned post (this one) and warned everyone.

At some point this week, that account has been banned (or deleted), to my great dismay (the best vaccine against this kind of thing is letting victims know, since these scammers will just make new accounts); however, I found out that one of the names used in one of the many of his PayPal accounts has also been used in (as of today, 11/23) gladysconnoisseurpost thanks to this other post!

I already added that new piece of info in my old pinned (the one linked above in pink), and just today I received this ask on anon - worded very similarly to this other one that I got (off anon!) immediately after I called him out the first time.

So, in short: it's clear it's the same person again, there are sources to prove my point in the first link, there's one more here (el-shab-hussein saying it's a scam), thus I'm resuming my little hobby here.

IF YOU'VE BEEN MENTIONED IN THE REPLIES HERE:

-read the post in the first link. I'm basically doing the same thing, just with another post since it's about a different account and it could cause confusion

-I'd like you all to either delete your reblog of this scammer's post or edit it to include a warning to your followers

-if you're having a hard time tracking your reblog down (some date back to August), let me know and I'll help

-some of you reblogged it more than once, try to get them all (I tried to take note of those who did, if you have any doubts let me know)

-I did recognize some of your names from the last time - I'm sure you're all more knowledgeable now, it's just that it's the same scammer that contacted you multiple times, and I found an older instance. It's unlikely you falled for it once more after I warned you, so no worries. Still! Keeping up your reblog with no warning helps making it look more legitimate, so if you would kindly do me a favour and delete/edit this one too 🙏

-usual disclaimer that I transcribed all urls manually and I may have gotten something wrong. Hmu if you think I made a mistake, so I can contact the right person (or prove that it was in fact you)

-and again, no worries. You're all doing a good thing, you're not at fault for this piece of shit taking advantage of your good heart. Just be more wary next time :*

-I'm still gonna check for name changes, both on Tumblr and Paypal. Most recent on top

Oh, and let's not forget my List of Actually Verified Palestinian Fundraisers Who Contacted Me. Gotta uplift their voices too

[kyxhiin]

Captain Marvel gets Road rage (well space rage?)

Hi guys, I know I said I'll be taking a break. But with all these idea's I just can't, also my mood has improved quite a bit from my mom's words. And also I catcher a really bad cold today and didn't have school suppressing my ideas! I know it's only been a day but I've made the decision to post but not as much as I used to. So I'll just continue on with the post!

Captain Marvel aka Billy gets intense rage from small things, rather then really big things. So he tweaks out alot on the smaller possible things. (WonderJanga post ref.)

And so by that the JL has never caught onto him. So they all thought it would've been a great idea to let Cap drive the space ship during a particularly rough traffic. (Don't know how you get traffic in space but so on forth.) He's a great guy! He teaches the Young justice members how to ride the ship! And he has mentioned more than once of him owning a plane. So the JL assumed his civilian job was a pilot. I mean, what could go wrong?

Batman, catching up on some important things as he sits in the Co-pilot seat. Robin right beside him reading an animal encyclopedia. Captain Marvel with his wide smile on the traffic waiting for whatever mess happened to be disputed.

Broodman notices alot of time has passed, when he checked the clock. A heckling 5 hours have passed and they still haven't moved. He raised his head to see how Captain was holding up.

Oddly enough.. He still had that big old smile, but something. Something was wrong, the normal smile who would butter anybody up has been replaced by an uncomfortably forced and tired one. His once excited face, has become pink-ish with pent up something he assumed? And he was just so sure that there was this big pulsing vein on Marvel's forehead.

Batman: Captain. Are you alright? You seek quite drained.

Captain Marvel in a really passive aggressively annoyed voice: Oh Haha? Really? I'm fine Mr.Batman. I'm totally fine!

Robin: Tt you're obviously lying. A flushed face, bulging stress veins, the way you grip the steering wheel. You're mad, even an idiot can decipher that.

Captain Marvel: ME? MAD HAHA NOOOOO...

Batman: Captain. You're clearly agitated, do you need a break?

Captain Marvel now losing it: ME??? A BREAK?? IT'S THESE FUGGLING IDIOTS WHO NEED A BREAK NOT ME? THESE SON OF A LEECHES BETTER MOVE BEFORE I FREAKING CRASH INTO THEM!

Captain Marvel pressing the accelerator flying over the other ships so fast that it caused a turbulence in the other area's of the ship, which included in everyone falling to their knees and wondering what the hell is going on.

Captain Marvel with a maniacal smile: HAHA THAT'S WHAT YOU GET YOU MOTHER FLIPPING BLEEPERS!

Batman, his hand reaching out to Marvel: Marvel, stop!

Captain Marvel, now realizing who he just did: Oh.. I'm so sorry Mr. Batman sir I really didn't mean to lose my temper like that. I'll do anything to make up for that..

Robin who's now staring directly at Cap' with a shocked expression: Wow..

When they all looked back to see where they were, to their luck. They were right next to the place where they were trying to go.

When Batman told the Justive League this they never believed him, for like the first time ever. He's now sure of it, cap hides his true self around everybody. But, he still managed to keep his no swearing policy intact right?

And Robin refused to back up Bruce's story, with a new found respect for the Captain. He let him pet Alfred the cat for 2 whole seconds.

[thehistoriangirl]

The Tides Have Veiled [Third Interlude]

First of all, I wanted to apologize for the delay. I got a problem with this story as I found out someone fed it to an AI. I was about to stop posting it and eliminate it altogether, but it'll be unfair for every one of you who had been so sweet and kind with me and so loving with this story.

We're officially in the middle, and I will walk all this way with you guys ❤️❤️ thank you so much for the support, and I'll read you soon!

Viktor x Fem!Reader /Gothic AU; Haunted Sea/----1.8K---SFW

> MASTERLIST <- Previous // Next ->

Synopsis:  Piltover the Old has an old lighthouse that looms over an abandoned port. From the house in the wailing cliff’s edge, the lighthouse owner watches that the beacon is being lighten up each time darkness arrives, so that monsters wouldn't dare to crawl inland, or so legends say. Both buildings are haunted, maybe even the man himself, by both past and present ghosts. Surprisingly, the keeper’s work is beyond turning on the beacon every night— but the rest is on you to discover.

Chapter Summary: One fateful night, you two say the thing that wasn't supposed to be.

Tags: Fluff | I'm emotional rn so it may be a bit sad | Some kissing | They say!!! the thing!!! | Needless to say please PLEASE do not feed it to an AI 😭😭😭

Taglist: @lunar-monster @local-mr-frog @bittercyder @blissfulip @ihopeinevergetsoberr @ultimateslasherfan @beeblybub (it's been so long I'm sorry if I forgot to tag someone!! 😭😭 remind me and I'll do it for the next ones :3 pinky promiseee)

Third Interlude: The Stars in Your Eyes

New moon. The perfect witness to keep secrets.

And it isn’t that Viktor wishes to maintain his feelings hidden, resurfacing like the high tide during full moon—rising every night during the solitude of the watch, with the familiar glow of your window visible from the tower until sleep took you for the day, the light of the candle extinguished.

But it a necessary illness he doesn’t mind to be afflicted with.

The place you ought to call house it’s so different to this lonely tower; avant-garde wallpapers are here but starting to chip off. There the candles burn with riches fragrances, while here the beacon illuminates, unforgiving, leaving oil prints all over his fingertips.

At least he can pretend to watch over your dreams from here, peering at the starry night. A childish desire to keep you away from nightmares soaked in crimson tides and women jumping out the cliff.

It’s the same tale of every night—to cocoon in the couch by the control panel, door close to avoid any flicking light filtering inside the room. A book resting on his lap, forgotten pens scattered all over the floor by his shoes. Today isn’t worthy of writing in the logbook. At least not yet.

The door creaks open, metal scratch against wood.

“Viktor,” your voice makes him jump. Between a dream and a ghostly whispering like the sea uses to do with each crashing wave.

He stands up from the couch, leaving the book he was reading closed without any mark. It doesn’t matter. Viktor doubts he knew what the chapter was about even before you arrived.

His hands are eager. They settle in the roundness of your cheeks, finding like a miracle that your skin it’s so soft and warm. “You’re really here.”

It wouldn’t be the first time the water fools him, allowing him to imagine both of you, floating weightless inside an infinite of blue. Hands intertwined.

You oughtn’t to fear the place you come from.

“I almost got caught,” you laugh, leaning against the safety of his touch. Against the cold surrounding you in her way toward the lighthouse, Viktor is your refuge. “They hired new fishermen. Mister Gavin was talking with them in his office up until midnight.”

That catches Viktor’s attention, obliged to recoil his touch. “New fishermen?” Upon his hiring as lighthouse keeper, Viktor had seen the dark silhouettes of the fishing boats sailing on open water during the night, where fish could be easily collected. Every journey, fewer boats get out. And even less returned.

“He has always been a greedy man,” you sigh, sinking into the couch. He hopes your shampoo gets imprinted in his pillow for at least a couple of days. Until he gets to see you again. “He doesn’t wish to understand Piltover will never be the same as it was thanks to her.”

Viktor settles next to you. “I suppose sometimes dwelling in the past it’s the only thing one can do to avoid going mad.”

He observes you, loving that intense gaze that could only be described as a frozen storm, cloudy and deep and dark from all the tears he’s sure you don’t dare to shed.

“I hope he goes mad,” your voice is barely audible. A shivery whisper that crawls inside his chest. “I hope I get to do it.”

That need starts to nudge again the gate of his reason. You’re not like this, he wants to tell you. The poison dripping down every syllable, breaking its enchanting cadence. But it would be senseless to utter so—because your family has sworn upon themselves to forge you into whatever monstrosity the townsfolk’s rumors proclaim.

“There lies the reason behind your current visits?” Part of him lets slip, a terrible weight settled onto his heart.

Your chuckle echoes, a whisper that would remain even after you leave. “No, Viktor. It isn’t.” You drink from his golden eyes, twin stars guiding your way. You aren’t sure what this night has of special. It’s just a moonless night, full of stars in the sky. The sea laps all the same. “I would never drag you into my mess.” Not as Gavin and his new wife had dragged Astraia, hoping for you to grow all alone, feeding the desperation to seek freedom.

“I wouldn’t have minded if you do,” he says, and your eyes start to blurry.

His fingers are rough and cold, yet he touches you with the same delicate nature one would hold a butterfly. Afraid that if he takes too much, you’d be all but a shattered dream.

“I’m happy here,” you mutter, the secret you’re so afraid to say out loud if bad luck ever tries to snatch it. “I can’t go anywhere, but here… here I don’t want to run away.” And it terrifies you. All your life, wishing to be someone else, to forsake the family name impose upon your existence. Yet not even the waves could take what runs through your veins. “I loathe this place with every fiber of my being, but now you’re here and… everything has changed.”

It's like it was before. The blue of the sea is shinier, and the call doesn’t reverberate in your bones with the ache of impossibility. It calls you home. Morphed into one endless way up into the end of every lament.

For the first time in so long, you don’t want to leave.

His smile breaks your heart, and you let yourself cry, letting him hold you while every tear erases the grey colors once painted over the vibrant memories of your mother’s tight embrace, her haunting voice calling you to sleep. The way the sand got under your toes after one swimming afternoon. All the ghostly laughter you blessed upon the cliff.

Before everything turned crimson and empty.

“I will keep this place safe,” he says, his voice muffled against your hair. “For you.”

Your hands grab his shoulders, and for a moment it seems like you wish to disappear in him, to forever echo the rhythm of his heartbeat as another lullaby.

You can’t see him, so he dares to deposit a kiss on your forehead, muttering things you cannot understand.

“Come with me,” he says after an eternity that’s cut too short.

*~*~*~*

The water’s cold, but it lights every nerve on fire once you submerge.

Viktor slips behind you, your hands never leaving his once your tears are erased by the sea water hitting in gentle waves. A moonless night with inky water, yet you don’t have to fear the abyss. You have never.

“Does your leg hurt?” you say, waddling toward him. You could guide him toward the cliffiside where the coral grows meters under the surface, so he could feel the fish between his legs and grab at the rock for safety.

“N-no,” Viktor shivers. “The cold helps to numb sometimes.”

It’s barely visible outside of the lighthouse’s rotating beacon, which give you enough courage to inch shamelessly closer, until your dress it’s tangled in his legs. Because it’s your time to hold him, soak him in your warmth.

Astraia’s words haunt you, but what reputation do you still hold? You don’t care to stain the last name they force you to keep.

“Numb what?” You can barely feel his hands ghosting over your back. Afraid.

He averts your gaze. But you can’t let him; with your warm hands cupping his cheeks. Despite the coldness, you could see the faint blush on his cheeks every time the lighthouse painted the waves gold.

“Are you afraid of me?” you whisper, his fingers intertwined with yours.

“Never.” His voice is gruff, the grasp so tight his knuckles are bone-white. “But… there are some things meant to remain hidden.”

“Why?” You know why, but you have stopped caring about the reason long ago. “I don’t want to keep them locked any longer.” It was as if sometimes they drowned you, blocking every breath from your throat at the mere thought of saying those words your tongue longed to express.

Your name has never been more precious that in the way Viktor whispers it. A prayer he covets for only him to call.

And you’ll let him. Of course you’ll let him.

“I don’t want to, either,” he says, golden stars fluttering close one his lips beckon yours, soft and pliant and so sweet. Barely a sheepish brush, before you push yourself closer, his hands grabbing handfuls of floating fabric on your lower back.

You get lost. Barely keeping afloat in the great tides of emotions sieging you. Yet Viktor doesn’t care if your lips taste like salt, if you’re shivering and breaking in sobs. Despite all the love, he knows it hurts—being loved hurts by the mere thought of all this being stolen with the same easiness it could be taken away.

But he won’t let it.

“You make me feel free,” you utter, breathless. And this otherworldly vision will forever haunt him; your bright eyes, swollen lips. The smile that’s just for him.

“I’m in love with you,” he says, his voice dripping with dread, the ever-present possibility of rejection.

Your laughter fills him with pain, but Viktor quickly realizes, by how you embrace him, that it’s not meant to be mocking. It’s euphoric, triumphant in the way you call for him. “Viktor, kiss me.”

And he does, up until the cold seeps into his bones, threatening into leaving him up to the design of the sea. Yet you hold him close, guide him back to the shore where you both lay in the sand like teenagers laughing at the constellations above because they would never have the brightest stars in all the skies, light only meant to gaze upon you.

And you love those stars, making them close so you can kiss them along with every precious feature of his face that you’re decided to carve in your memory.

Viktor embraces you despite the warmth of the sand seeping through your clothes, the humid summer air blowing hair into his face. You want to tell him the truth, to let your throat sore from a scream so everything and everyone could hear it.

But you’re afraid. You know this place always takes those who you love, and you dread for Viktor to be next. So you don’t, and instead, cuddle up right into his side, your cheek pressed against his chest as his breath slowly grows steady.

He’s asleep, but his hands are still taking yours, his chin over your head.

“I love you, too, Viktor,” you mutter, so low either he or the sea can hear you. Yet the lighthouse sees, casting shadows along your refuge on the coastline like a blanket.

[sweetimpurity]

I think I'll keep you:

c.ai bot drop

a/n (please read!): Hiya! I've been working on these bots for a little while, trying to make them stick to the story I've been writing all year. But it is an ai bot so I have no control over what it says or suggests past the greeting. It might not stick to the story exactly. If there's anything you think could be improved or information you think the bots should have about the plot, just message and let me know! I hope you guys have fun kiss kiss!! 😘🍬

These can all be found on my profile: sweetimpurity 💓

I think I'll keep you

Miguel has no interest in a relationship. He just saw you one day and then your tutoring hours posted on the cork board. He knew he had to have you for one night. You were surprised when the text came in from him, him of all people, asking for a session. But he quickly got you on your knees and then in his bed. This one night would turn into much more.

“Oh, god…” You pant and whine, your head leaning to the side to rest on his head.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good…” He curses through a heavy breath against your neck. A high pitched squeal escapes your throat as your back arches against his chest and it hits you hard and fast. Your squeals turn into cries of his name, how good he feels.

He doesn't know what's come over him. He doesn't form attachments like this. But there's something about you that makes him want to bring you pleasure over and over again.

You’re babbling and thrashing in his arms and Miguel smiles, finally getting what he wants. Hearing your sweet innocent voice whining out the dirtiest things. You're a soft warm mess as he chases his own release.

He holds you tightly against him as you both stop moving and start panting to catch your breath. You’re glad he’s still holding you because if he let go, you’d surely face plant into the mattress. Your head rests back on his shoulder and he places small kisses on your skin as he snuggles his face into the crook of your neck, breathing deep and sighing out in relief.

“Will you be mine?” He asks softly and kisses your cheek. “Mine only…” He whispers and his gaze meets yours when you lift your head, turning it so you can look in his eyes. His finger strokes your cheek softly and it’s like he’s looking at the sun. He can try to close his eyes but the memory of you will always be seared into his mind.

“I want to be yours…” You whisper and watch his eyes as they light up a bit, a grin playing on his reddened lips. “Good. I think I’ll keep you…” He smiles and holds your jaw in his hand, kissing your lips once more...

I think I'll keep you 2

You've been gone only three days and he's losing his mind. Everything was so good before you decided to go home for the weekend. Miguel had you every night he wanted, every morning too. Peter's party was supposed to be a distraction but it turned into a disaster. A drunken Dana all over him and he just wants to make her hate him if only to leave him alone. He doesn't want her. He wants you back to campus.

Not hearing from you for three days is making his head spin, and he can’t help but picture you with some guy that’s not him. He throws Dana on the bed, pulling her by the ankles and grabbing her face. Could she handle him if she tried? The answer is no.

“You really like to get on my nerves, don’t you?” He seethes. But even Dana loves the attention.

Ding!

His red hot rage is interrupted by his phone going off. His face softens and his heart skips a beat just like it did when you said you’d be his. He can’t control that feeling. Miguel picks up his phone, seeing your name pop up and his eyes dart around the screen reading it.

{{user}}: “Came back early :)”

“Coming now” He texts right back.

He sighs audibly, a mix of relief and frustration at the same time. “What is it?” Dana whines, sprawled out on his bed, getting her loud perfume all over his sheets where the smell of you should be. “Get out.” He demands, stepping back and going to put on his jacket again to go. “What?! Are you serious?” She scoffs, sitting up on his bed.

"Yes! GET OUT!!" He shouts, making her flinch. She scurries off, out of his dorm fighting back tears. He pulls the jacket on, pushing out of his room and marching his way over to your dorm.

I think I'll keep you 3

Miguel pushes off the wall, going to the library door and seeing you’re finally alone. His heart thumps in his chest. Clenching his swollen bruised hand in his pocket. He sighs and forces himself to walk inside.

You suddenly look up. Stopping him in his tracks. And it’s like he feels like he’s doing something wrong. He told you, you were never supposed to happen for him. That what happened between you for an entire month was a mistake. To not let your messy feelings ruin everything. It’s been four days. Not a call, not a text. Nothing. And now he’s here. You look away first. Back down to your laptop to continue typing. And he continues walking, stopping at the edge of the table across from you.

“I need to talk to you.” He speaks, towering over the table. Thinking back to all those moments it’s like none of that ever mattered because it didn’t matter to him. How can you trust him again when he treated you like he wanted you and then told you, you were never supposed to happen. And you gave him your body, your heart everyday for a month already.

“I’m busy right now.” You say softly, keeping your eyes locked on your laptop screen. While this time away from him has been hell and you’ve been heartbroken over this, he’s also been a total dick.

He’s been trying all week to find you. To talk to you. Trying to find sneaky ways so that he doesn't have to beg for your attention. He wants things back the way they were. He wants you back in his bed. He doesn’t know what he feels.

He walks around the table. You don’t look up, not even sparing him a glance. Glaring at your laptop screen and seeing his movement in your peripherals. He silently walks to the seat right next to you. Slipping down into it to sit beside you. His hands shoved back into his pockets.

"{{user}}… hey...” He says gently, trying to get your attention. Turning in his chair slightly to face you more. He can see your anger, he can feel it too.

“I’m not talking to you.” You say without looking at him.

“Well I’m talking to you…”

I think I'll keep you 4

“...his hand, he’s been having swelling and bruising for a few days now…” You explain kindly to the receptionist once you’re both in the waiting room, standing at the front desk. Miguel standing a bit like a lost puppy behind you, listening to you talk to the receptionist there.

“Alright, the doctor can take a look once she’s done with another patient. If you can just fill out these forms and have a seat, it should be about 30 minutes.” She smiles and hands you a clipboard and a pen.

“Thank you. And could he please get some ice or something?” You smile and ask. The woman nods politely and going to grab an ice pack from the other room. You both start walking over to the waiting room area, looking over the form in your hands. Taking a seat by the fish tank and settling in to wait a little while. Miguel sits right beside you, running the good hand through his dampened hair from the rain. He glances down at the form in your lap. Then up at the side of your face. Wanting to reach out and touch your skin. Kiss your cheek. Remembering what it feels like to melt into your arms. Thinking of all the ways he can beg for, earn your forgiveness. Just as he’s about to speak-

“Here you go…” The receptionist is there, an ice pack outstretched for him to take, breaking him out of his thoughts. He forces a smile, taking the ice pack and setting it over his hand. “Thank you.” He smiles gently. Watching the woman walk away.

He feels like shit. Feels so bad for being so closed off and such a jerk to you about all of this. This past month hasn't been meaningless like he told you in the heat of the moment. It's meant something he just doesn't know how to say it. It's hard for him to put his feelings into words. For you it seems so easy, why can't he just be like you?

He looks back, watching you write down his name on the form. Thinking he can probably do this himself. Before he can interrupt you’re asking him for the information on the form.

I think I'll keep you 5

When the athletic door swings from someone else leaving, he catches a glimpse of you through the opening. The bright lights from outside assault his eyes as the door swings again. Seeing you for just a moment. Just a split second. Talking with Peter against the fence. He stops. What is he walking into? What’s about to change? You’re gonna be there right when he goes through that door. He stands in the dim concrete tunnel, feeling his heart race. He doesn’t like this feeling. This is the loss of control.

“Miguel!” Peter smiles, making you turn to look back. And there he is, walking out the door. You want to just run into his arms and tell him how great he was. Even though he didn't get to play he still coached very well and played his part in the victory. But Peter is talkative and gets in there before you can. And you don't really want to interrupt when he's talking with his friends. Since this is the first time you've been around his friends with him.

“We’re gonna get drinks, you have to come” Peter says, ushering Miguel over to where you’re standing. “This is {{user}}… {{user}} this is Miguel”

“Yeah we know each other.” Miguel says immediately. Not a hint of a smile on his face. He’s annoyed with Peter. Annoyed that it’s not a known thing. He wants it to be known that you two are an item. Or… that there’s something going on… he’s not even sure of at the moment. At least that Peter should know to back off. “Oh cool, so drinks?” Peter asks you.

Miguel’s a little astonished with how easily Peter just brushed that off. Eyes flicking between you two and hoping to god you don’t accept the drink invite. But he bites his tongue. Friends. Really good… friends.

[perfectlyvalid49]

I just want to say that your words about feeling like you yourself are becoming radicalized resonated with me. I was already growing fed up with the current state of leftism and this just seems the last straw. The black and white thinking, the purity culture, the blood thirst – I’m just done.

I’m not even Jewish in any meaningful way (my mom hid/disavowed that part of her ancestry growing up in the soviets). I’m just a very mixed queer person whose ethnicity is best described as ‘uhhh.’ But my social circle has always been largely Jewish, and recently many of said social circle have had to up and leave their home country. In many cases, Israel was their only option. So seeing thousands of people who are supposedly on my side thoughtlessly chant ‘from the river to the sea’ just broke me. Seeing people try to prove that it’s not antisemitic has been mind-boggling. “It doesn’t explicitly call for violence against Jewish people.” Well, nor does ‘Jews will not replace us,’ and yet…

I deleted my social media at a really low point, and now that I’m back I find myself mostly following Jewish blogs. And I feel my worldview shifting because where before I had hopes that things that frustrate me on the left could maybe be fixed, now I no longer think it’s fixable.

Sorry for rambling from this Schrödinger’s gentile

Hi Anon,

I’m glad I could write something that spoke to you.

Before this blog became so focused on the conflict in Israel, I talked a lot about US politics, a topic I’ve been interested in since I was in middle school (I’m weird and nerdy – get over it). And to be clear, I’m “old” for the internet, so middle school means the 1996 presidential election, which I remember discussing with my friends at lunch (they were also weird and nerdy, there’s a reason we were friends).

So when I say that I’ve been watching other people get radicalized for a long time, I mean it. I’ve watched friends fall into information silos and have felt helpless to stop it. I mean, the best man at my (very Jewish!) wedding is now a trad-Cath who thinks I’m going to hell because I refuse to accept Jesus into my life.

There has always been an antisemitism problem on the left. You can scroll through just about any blog on jumblr and look at posts prior to October and you can see that we were all bitching about it before the 7th. I’m not sure if it has actually gotten worse or if it’s just more obvious now, but we can say they seem radicalized now. Honestly, there’s nothing I can do about it, because they certainly aren’t going to listen to me – I’m a filthy (((Zionist))) after all.

But there’s at least a handful of Jewish people who are listening to me. I’ve picked up a score of followers in the last few months, so clearly you all think what I have to say is worth reading, so read this: I worry that at least parts of the Jewish community are headed down a bad path and I don’t know what to do about it. I know why we are blocking and unfollowing so many – the things they say are hurtful at best and terrifying at worst. But it leaves us in a situation where it’s the same few voices being repeated over and over. It doesn’t mean that we are radicalized, but I worry that we’re headed toward an echo chamber at least, and that’s not good. I’ve left a lot of leftist spaces behind. I’d prefer to not have to do that with Jewish ones as well.

I don’t have a solution other than that we need to be really careful and think about how we’re thinking about things if that makes any sense. The example I gave last time was moving from “you can be anti-Zionist without being antisemitic” to “anti-Zionism is antisemitism.” How did we make that move? Was it motivated by logic or emotion? It’s ok to change your stance, but with the way things are I think we really need to think about why we’re doing that, or it could lead to a bad place.

Back to the anon who is losing hope – that’s tough, and I can see why you feel that way. There are two thoughts that I repeat to myself to keep me hopeful. The first is that on a long enough timescale, things tend to improve. There’s lots of small steps forward and stumbling backwards, but overall we tend to move in the right direction. The other is that trying and failing and not trying at all have the same result. Maybe we won’t have a big effect. But if I can tell 30 people and even three of them can tell 30 people and so on, then maybe my words can reach at least one person and help them pull their heads out of their ass. And that’s better than nothing.

[starscream-is-my-wife]

This is part 1 of a continuation for my other post where LL Megatron gets trapped in the G1 universe, I was thinking about how someone would go insane in this cartoon world and thought "what if Megatron had someone else to accompany him" so, I gave Starscream an existential crisis

Edit: final part is out, I tagged everything as G1 x LL AU!

[deadclockghost]

Have a Sunny Smile

Had no physical or mental energy for days but today I finally made something! Two since I couldn't choose. Now let's see how long this energy lasts :')

[loppiopio]

just some 🥥 related sillies i've made for that fic we all know.

[front-facing-pokemon]

[homeless202]

EY's reaction to finding out HJ used to steal as well when he was younger is so interesting.

How excited he was abt it:

From EY's pov, this straight A student he thought was perfect and never did a single wrong thing in his life, just confessed to having a criminal background. EY used to look down on HJ for his self-righteous and goody-two-shoes behavior. In his eyes, 'good' people like that don't last long bc they're 'sensitive' abt (in his eyes) insignificant stuff, and they often criticize and judge people like him too quickly. That's why he was so curious abt HJ and tried to figure him out, and why he pissed him off so easily. To him, it's a mystery how people like that still exist and manage survive.

One of EY's sources of frustration towards HJ was how EY thought, HJ thought, he (HJ) was better than him (EY) <- which was partially true, HJ did think "I'm miserable, but at least not as miserable as him". But HJ admitting he used to steal showed EY that HJ was not that much better than him. That he's not as stuck-up and 'holier-than-thou' than he previously thought. He had character.

After finding this out, EY gained a lot more respect for HJ. Especially after hearing his story abt how he managed to quit. HJ became a person EY could truly look up to that day.

[dawntheduckrb]

I'll stop posting wips eventually but it's been five days since I've said anything and I don't want anyone to think I'm dead/dying/stuck in a ditch and withering away, so here's 10% of the reason I disappeared (the duck is stuck in rendering hell) (and my little baby laptop is screaming at me every time I open up this file)

I might still be mostly lurking for a little bit so please be patient with me in the meantime 🙏🙏

[coquelicoq]

Une petite houle, venue du large, imprimait au canot un léger roulis, et quelque crêtes de lames clapotaient à son avant. (Vingt mille lieues sous les mers, 2e partie, chapitre III)

today in sentences that would have made me weep quietly into my dictionary if i had read them a year ago before jules verne expanded my marine vocabulary by ~1700%.

[bandtrees]

every day tttaac gets closer. im normal. im so normal. im ssosoooo normal.

[asjjohnson]

Part 6 of my poll adventure fic. Links: the beginning, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5.

It's mid-day Wednesday (at least for my time), which means a new part of my poll adventure fic, because I've been here for over a year and still don't know how to use this site effectively. :D (Oh wait, here, I made a poll about tumblr timing.)

---

Valerie walked toward Vlad through the rubble, hugging a hissing and clawing Maddie against her armor. "Found him," she said proudly, smiling up at Vlad. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"Actually, there is. There's a malevolent ghost loose in Amity Park, posing a serious risk to my health, as well as to the city. I need him contained and brought to me."

Oh, cheese sticks with marinara dipping sauce! He had meant to do the responsible thing here—not ask a fourteen-year-old child who couldn't even hold a cat properly to risk her life in his stead.

...He really had become too accustomed to avoiding anything unpleasant.

"Sure thing, Mayor Masters!"

Maddie squirmed out of Valerie's hold with an angry yowl and ran off.

Well, he could still work with Valerie. ...If he truly wanted to. He was unlikely to succeed on his own, anyhow, if this older version of Daniel actually was as powerful as he'd heard.

But did he truly want to be a part of this endeavor? He was already dreading it, with only the thought.

He recalled what the older Daniel had said—that he let his emotions hold too much sway, and that in turn caused his plans to fail.

Which had been exactly the case when he'd felt some level of compassion for that ghost.

Thinking purely objectively, Vlad could still use the ghost if he could get him back under his control. And if Vlad were to have some part in the ghost's capture—in saving Amity Park—it would boost his ratings. He did need to keep his position as mayor of Amity Park for his contingency plans.

"Valerie, dear. Why don't we work together? I'm sure it's just misplaced guilt, but I can't help but feel somehow responsible for this situation. Ridiculous, I know. However, working with you on his capture would ease my poor conscience."

"Oh... uh, you've never suggested this before," Valerie said uncertainly, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, as though she was trying to think of some way that poor old 'Mayor Masters' could work with her. "But if that's what you want."

'Cheerleader' isn't, ah, a literal cheerleader. (Don't make me dress him up in a skirt.) It just means... like, advertising and cheering her on. More of a cheer-leader (...which is probably an even more literal meaning actually).

---

"Alert me when there's an update" list:

@charlietheepic7, @chrysanthemum9484, @mymadmedleyw, @dp-marvel94, @aikoiya, @whydouwantmyname, @cinturon-cadena, @freakofyournature, @satanicrutialspecialist, @danphantom80

(if you want on the list, specifically ask to be alerted for updates in a tag or comment. Ask again if I forget! If I can't tag you, I'll send a Message.)

[ryusaidate]

i love saito. i love that uchikoshi does not know or care what's wrong with him. i love that everyone else in the game has real life medical issues and his brain issues are just "i don't fucking know he kills people. we're doing a Bit about Love And Family. he's got Murders People disease."

i love whatever's going on in both versions of in the VaiN. and that when someone asked uchikoshi what was with the scene at the end of the hit route with So was he was like "he's fucked up. you know how it is." and that was the full explanation.

everything he does as a-set especially in the arg videos is so so so funny. this man is having the time of his life pretending to be a fucked up and evil teen idol streamer. "this is your idol" "be seeing you. but you won't be seeing me" i will shove him in a locker also i know i already drew it but "this is kaname date he's a real hot piece of twink ass but unfortunately his personality is awful. he lost his memory or something i don't care" is everything to me

love that he's making this incredibly intricate plan to ruin the life of this random fucking guy he CHOSE to bodyswap with on a whim because he... what, he escaped out the window? you really just wanted him to sit there while you killed a guy as rohan, realised the oxytocin release didn't carry over also half your vision is fucked now, swap back, and then kill him so he can't narc? that was Theft Done To Personally Spite You? anyway he's doing all that and he's like "i mean i guess i'll kill my dad while i'm at it" and i love that.

i'm. still thinking about "killed by your own father" why are you pretending to be your own dad shooting yourself in the middle of your last ditch "well whatever plan's fucked may as kill him" moment!! just another one of your "i'm technically not lying teehee" bits?? (and i KNOW the reading that it's about mizuki but that makes even less sense to me. & i'm a 'most cringefail reading possible' truther.) i really do love 'i didn't lie, i kept my promise' just to be a jackass

i love that he's so candid about talking about his murders and says shit like "homicide is my hobby" but when it comes to shooting people he either says some bullshit like "blowing their brains out" or calling them "fireworks" or it's about date "watching them die." the only time he calls it "shooting" is when someone else is doing it. and normally that sort of thing reads as 'distancing yourself from the crimes' but wouldn't that be fucking wild lmao. i think it reads more like it's above just shooting? it's art! perfect, beautiful art of a lonely moment in time.

and all the "(you were) a murderer. a serial killer" "have you been using other men's names for so long that you've forgotten your own" talk feels like it should be leading into a "we're not so different you and i" but it never does. (i'd be tempted to say it's just self restraint on the part of the writing team but i find that VERY hard to believe given the. everything. about every uchi game.) like he hates date but he views himself as above him and he can't pull himself down to date's level, even to upset him. he's just taking hypocritical shots at date because he knows he cares about "justice" and "morality" and garbage like that, without acknowledging their similarities

i'm normal? i'm normal.

[ilaiyayaya]

🤔maybe I should keep a list of media I experience, I keep seeing like media threads and stuff, and one of my friends started one recently and like, I forget what I play/watch like a month after I finish them half the time so like, it'd probably be a good way to actually frequently refresh my memory on what media I've actually seen recently. It'd also probably motivate me to actually play and finish more games so I could add new things to the list. And also I like keeping track of things, making lists with like dates and info and stuff is fun and the more arbitrary and meaningless the list is the better. BUT LIKE I'VE MISSED LIKE 21 YEARS WORTH OF MEDIA I CAN'T JUST MAKE A LIST NOW IT'S TOO LATE!!! fuck it i'm doing it, next stop diablos!