#like this is the dumbest thing that has happened in the community

[veone]

…do y’all actually know why berie is being talked about?

[nedlittle]

[alt]

2x21 "crisis" really is a perfect episode

[inbabylontheywept]

i once accidentally dated someone for a few months. its very difficult to explain how this happened, but the gist is that i thought we were hanging out, and she thought we were on dates, and it was just a very painfully highschool thing.

she was a little bit confused that i hadnt tried to pull any moves, at all, even a little. like, didnt even try holding hands because, and i cannot emphasize this enough, i did not know we were dating.

so, halloween rolled around, and she thought, you know, why wait for destiny, when you can grab it? so she hit me with a clue by four.

babylon, she said. babylon. my mom's gonna be out of town on halloween, and im gonna have the house to myself, and it's going to be kind of lonely. would you like to come to my house and watch scary movies with me?

you know, kind of a netflix and chill thing. except, and i cannot emphasize this enough, i did not know we were dating. also autism. so i took it at face value and said: oh! yeah! thatd be fun! and she thought she got her point across, but she didnt and it was a mess.

skip forward to halloween: my family has a block party every year, right? and at that point i was too old to really trick or treat, but we still wore costumes for our role in the block party, which in my case, was handing out cotton candy. so i took the first shift, and my costume was this homemade abomination minion thing. i had full yellow body paint, and goggles, and a bald cap, and overalls. the kids who saw it were like, uh, hm. overly realistic minion. and adults were like, oh, some kind of hills have eyes hillbilly with jaundice. very scary.

(it was not my best costume.)

my little brother swapped me out for second shift, and i was getting ready to change out to head to her house when i was like: no, she'll get a real kick out of this. this is one of the worst things i have ever worn. so i kept it on and just brought a change of clothes thinking i could shower real quick and change at her place after she saw my nightmare getup.

so i left after that, got there, knocked on her door, and she said come on in. so i went in, and there was this very long hall with an abrupt right turn into her living room where the tv was, and i went down the hall, and i made the turn, and my field of view went from beige drywal to her, on the couch, naked. naked in the paint me like one of your french girls pose. super naked.

i panicked. this was my first time seeing a real person like, full on sex naked,which is a totally different beast from other kinds of naked. you see one kind of naked and you think yeah, im ready for all the kinds of naked, but you arent. i wasnt at least. i really wasn't.

so my brain crashed to BIOS. she also crashed to BIOS, but for different reasons. of all the ways this could have turned me, having me show up in yellow body paint and overalls was pretty pretty low down the list.

so we sat there a while, and you know, she wasn't getting any less naked, which really wasn't helping me get my brain sorted out. it really wasnt much of a surprise when she got her bearings first and started asking questions.

"babylon," she said. "babylon. what are you wearing?"

and i was like, kind of rebooted, but i was nowhere near full functionality, so symbolic language wasnt loaded in yet. i had nothing running but my trusty autism.exe, so i said

"overalls"

and she looked at me like i was the dumbest person in the entire world, and i looked at her like she was the first naked person i had seen in real life who got naked specifically for me, and my upper level cognitive process went: "listen man, we are not going to get our shit together as long as 80% of your brain power is devoted to not blinking. you gotta get out of here."

and if id communicated that, maybe things would have been less of a mess, but instead i just kind of turned around and walked back to my car. i figured i could drive a few loops around the block, get my brain in order, and figure out what the hell we were gonna do.

the only thing i had said to her since arriving was, again, overalls.

first loop around, i was like: oh god fucking damnit. oh shit. oh shit. shes gonna get like, an eating disorder from this. oh no.

second loop around i was like: oh NOOOOO oh WHAT THE FUCK oh SWEET JESUS PLEASE. i dont wanna go back man. i just wanna bury this and forget about it. please. please. let this bitter cup pass from my lips.

and after my third loop, i went and i knocked on her door again.

she answered it this time, and i counted my lucky stars that she'd changed into some pajamas. she was all teary eyed which was the saddest thing ever, and we sat down in her kitchen and talked. it was pretty bad - i figured out we'd been dating, and she figured out that trying to jump from home plate to 3rd base is considered ballsy in baseball, least of all dating. no real winners there. and i can remember after all that, we sat there a bit a bit longer, just steadying ourselves, and i was like "well, im actually really glad we figured that out. guess i'll see you at school tomorow' and she said "WAIT. wait."

"lets watch shrek 2."

so we did and it was horrible. we did not look at each other. we did not say a word. we just sat in stony silence, while shrek 2 played in the background, and when it was done we shook hands. i think we might have been able to salvage that as a friendship if it hadnt been for shrek. as it was she turned white as a sheet and ran away every time she even got a glimpse of me at school, and that summer she moved to a new state to live with her dad. all her friends said she moved just so she wouldn't have to go to school with me anymore, and i dont actually think they were lying.

every time i hear relationship counselors talk about how important communication is, and i'm tempted to roll my eyes, i look back and go, alright. alright. theres probably some poor bastard, somewhere in the world, who doesnt even know that hes married.

and god help him when he figures it out.

other bad dating story here.

[i-eat-mold]

can you imagine being Nakahara Chuuya, 15 years old? for starters you’re 15 which by itself is a nightmare but whatever. you’re the head of this weird kid gang in the slumps where you grew up and btw you also don’t remember anything that happened before the age of 8. you can manipulate gravity which is pretty cool and you have some friends ish that you have to protect (aka said gang members that are also just kids and early teenagers) because you just have a heart so big that won’t fit inside your ribcage but whatever. and you know how 15yos are they have like their own language and behavior for each of their own little social groups and if you don’t act or talk or whatever that way then you’re like really weird, but whatever.

one day you find this weird kid that is dressed like he walked right out of his own funeral and is also covered in bandages and just won’t fucking shut up. he’s the most annoying *thing* you’ve ever seen even though he’s barely alive. You obviously beat him up right away and then he becomes even weirder. suddenly you’re stuck with the weirdest boy you could have ever imagined. he’s the dumbest person alive, he communicates by staring into your soul with his one(1) empty void of an eye and saying absolutely nothing. he acts like he has never had a single social interaction in his life. he declares his love for you within the same day of meeting him. Btw, you’re stuck with him for the next seven years. Oh, and he lives in a metal container in a dump. Also he has like two friends which you are pretty sure don’t even like him either. one of them barely talks and is somehow even weirder than the boy itself and the other one is an absolute stuck up which you are pretty sure might be a double agent but no one says anything despite how obvious it seems to you. you still aren’t sure whether this boy wants to die or not. he is an absolute machine at playing arcade video games but a completely useless piece of shit at everything else. He rolls on the floor when he’s focused. oh and also he has stated several times that he spends every waking moment thinking of how to make you miserable, and somehow he still would never let you die.

i guess he’s your friend?

[thriftedtchotchkes]

the way we fight

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: you and joel love taking your frustrations out on each other—in more ways than one

warnings: 18+ MDNI, language, drug use, canon-typical violence, slight spoilers for minor tlou 2 cutscene, jackson era, enemies to lovers, undefined age gap, sloooow buildup, smut, grinding, rough oral (male & female receiving)

word count: 6.7k

a/n: no idea how this got so long, but here we are! generally my fics are based on song lyrics, so this one goes out to my girl ari and social house. this honestly took a while to wrap my brain around and idk how the end got so filthy but alas, i really hope y'all enjoy! as always, thoughts and feedback are always appreciated 💕

It’s always an argument with him. He’s just so stubborn. Actually, Joel Miller might be the most stubborn man you’ve ever met. There’s never any room for disagreement or discussion with him—it’s his way or the highway. Half the time, you don’t even know what you’re fighting about, hurling callous, empty words at each other as if they don’t hurt. Immensely.

Maybe you really do genuinely hate each other. Or maybe it’s just for the fun of it.

It’s been like this for as long as you’ve known him, which, in hindsight, hasn’t even been that long. Probably a year? Year and a half? In all that time, you’ve never managed to crack his tough exterior and, as far as you know, no one else has, either.

The only things anyone knows for sure are that he’s Tommy Miller’s older brother and he’s got a daughter named Ellie. He hasn’t made a lot of friends here and it’s not hard to see why. He’s mean in a surly old man kind of way and rarely has anything nice to say to anyone—if he says anything at all.

Yet, somehow you still find yourself spending the majority of your time with him. It’s not something you do by choice. It’s a forced proximity thing.

You can’t tell if Tommy schedules you for patrols together because you’re the only one who hasn’t kicked up a stink about it or if he just thinks it’s funny to watch you both squirm. Most of the town thinks it’s hilarious, so you can only guess it’s the latter.

During your first few outings together, Joel wouldn’t talk to you unless it was absolutely necessary, and, even then, all you’d get was a grunt or some grumbled instructions. The silence got old pretty quickly. It wasn’t until you made your first mistake out in the field that he finally started communicating. Maybe a little louder than you’d hoped.

Now, Joel will pick a fight anywhere, usually over the dumbest shit. But his bark is worse than his bite—most of the time, at least.

On his worst days, his anger is explosive and it seems like he takes it out exclusively on you. It’s honestly a little ridiculous that you haven’t just asked Tommy to take you off his patrols already, but there’s a part of you that’ll never admit you actually kind of like your dynamic.

Not a lot happens in Jackson—it’s well-protected and even the community drama gets a little stale. Joel might be a dick, but he keeps things interesting, keeps you on your toes.

And it’s hard to ignore the fire in his eyes that makes you think he likes it just as much as you do.

It’s fucking freezing out and you haven’t even left for patrol yet before Joel’s muttering something condescending under his breath. Surprise, surprise—he’s in a bad mood and about to make it your problem. You throw him an unimpressed look over your shoulder, the best you can muster this early in the morning, and continue to saddle your horse.

“You wanna say that a little louder, Miller?”

He looks tired and annoyed and, god, you haven’t been awake nearly long enough for this shit. Today’s going to be trying enough as it is. You were assigned one of the longer routes and the clouds are already dark with the promise of rain or worse.

There are a few other patrol groups nearby gearing up to leave and their preparations suddenly slow, eyes darting between the two of you as if they can sense the impending argument. You barely notice their loitering, the small crowd inching forward to not-so-subtly eavesdrop.

“No, really, I’d love to hear to hear what you have to say,” you taunt him, hands settling on your hips. “Y’know, it’s really not like you to keep things to yourself. You sure you’re feeling alright today, old man?”

“Feelin’ just fine, sweetheart,” he grits through his teeth, rolling his eyes. “Just hurry your ass up so we can get this over and done with. I’m not tryin’ to spend any more time with ya than I have to.”

You quirk an eyebrow. Sweetheart? That’s a new one. It sounded sarcastic as hell and a little patronizing but, still, that’s not something Joel’s ever called you before. Useless and annoying, sure, but never sweetheart.

Your stomach swoops, but you force yourself to ignore it; that’s not even remotely something you want to analyze today.

“Uh, yeah…whatever,” you eye him strangely, and he abruptly looks away, shifting his focus back to checking his saddlebags. It’s like he’s purposefully avoiding your gaze, and it’s weird. He’s acting so fucking weird today.

Sparing him one last glance, you throw a leg over your horse and start toward the gate at a slow trot. You don’t bother waiting for him to catch up.

“What’s our first checkpoint?” you call over your shoulder, but he’s somehow already right behind you, his horse falling in line with yours.

“You should already know that,” Joel sighs, brow furrowed in what you can only assume is irritation. Oh, here it comes—the inevitable lecture. He does this every single time you're on patrol, whether you’ve done something wrong or not. You must’ve really pissed him off if you’re hearing it this early.

Except—he’s not berating you. Instead, he pulls a map out of his backpack. “Alright, look,” he says, leaning in closer so you can see. “This is us right here, and—,” his index finger traces a route from Jackson, winding along a road that passes through a small neighborhood, and lands on your first stop, located a few side streets off a main road, “—we should end up here in about an hour if the weather holds up.”

Nodding, you look up at him. You hadn't realized how close his face had gotten to yours, and your lips part around an involuntary gasp. His eyes drop to your mouth for a second too long before he pulls away, folding up his map and tucking it back into his pack.

You try to convince yourself that you imagined it, that Joel Miller would never intentionally look at your lips like he wants to kiss you, but you can still feel his warm breath on your skin and it’s affecting you more than you want to admit.

This is…not at all like your normal dynamic and it’s throwing you off. Joel hasn’t raised his voice once today and, at most, he’s only made a few snide remarks that weren’t nearly as bad as they usually are.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” you breathe out, creating a tiny puff of condensation in the air. “It doesn’t even feel like it's cold enough to snow, anyway. The worst we’ll probably get is some rain and we’ve ridden in way worse than that.”

All you get in response is a low grunt, and then he’s lifting the reins, leading his horse in the direction of your first checkpoint. You sigh. Guess you’re back to square one. You never thought you’d miss your spats, and can’t help but wonder what the hell happened to make him change his behavior so radically.

“Seriously, though, are you okay? You’re, like, really quiet today,” you prod, and his whole body tenses. He turns to you, expression angry, and it sends a shiver down your spine. There he is.

“Didn’t I already fuckin’ tell you I’m fine? What, you suddenly lose the ability to hear or somethin’?” He shakes his head in annoyance, and you’re glad he’s not looking at you anymore because you can’t suppress the grin that spreads across your face.

“This girl, I swear,” you hear him mutter as he trots away.

You don’t say anything to each other for the rest of the ride to the checkpoint. The crumbling attorney's office is basically the same as you remember from the last time you were here. It’s old, obviously, and musty, but it’s stocked with random provisions, like food and ammo, so patrol crews can replenish their supplies before heading out to their next destination.

There’s also a killer view of Jackson from one of the windows, and you get distracted looking out at the lights and mountains in the distance. It’s starting to flurry, so you drop your backpack on the floor and stick both hands out to catch some of the snowflakes in your palms. So much for rain.

“You dilly dallyin’ again? Just sign the logbook already so we can move the fuck on,” Joel’s voice startles you out of your reverie. Huffing, you turn away from the window, looking for the pen that’s supposed to be next to the notebook, but it’s nowhere to be found.

“You know what, asshole, you could’ve just as easily signed the damn thing yourself. You were there too, or are you getting forgetful in your old age?” you shoot back as you hunch down, getting on your hands and knees to search under the desk. You hear him scoff behind you.

You spot the pen towards the back, because of course it rolled that far, and bend down so you can reach out a little farther. Your fingers brush one end and then you’ve got it, sitting back up with your prize in hand. Looking over your shoulder, you just barely catch Joel’s eyes darting away from where you were a moment ago, basically puppy-posing on the floor. That’s…suspicious.

“The fuck? Were you just staring at my ass?” you ask incredulously. There’s no goddamn way. He snorts, arms crossed with an uncharacteristic smirk on his face, and you raise an eyebrow at him.

“You wish, sweetheart,” he says condescendingly, and there it is again. That fucking word. So, he’s calling you pet names and staring at your ass now? There’s something seriously off about him today and you want to know what his deal is.

“You wanna tell me why you keep calling me that? You’ve been acting weird as fuck all day and it’s giving me whiplash,” you glower at him, taking a seat at the edge of the desk and forgetting all about the logbook. He shrugs.

“Dunno what you’re talkin’ about,” he says simply, and you squint at him.

“Seriously, Joel? You've called me sweetheart twice today and now you’re checking me out,” you hop off the desk and walk over to where he’s leaning against the wall. “If I didn’t know any better…,” you glance down at his lips, moving closer, “I’d say you were flirting with me."

Well, that made him angry. "Fuck you,” he growls in your face, and his lips are soft where they accidentally graze your cupid's bow. He’s trembling now, fists clenched at his sides, and you think he’s about to push you away when he grabs you by the hips and shoves you against the wall. Your head lolls back and you laugh cruelly.

“Yeah, Joel,” you roll your hips into his and he grits his teeth, tightening his grip. “I think that’s exactly what you wanna do.”

But before you can go any further, there’s a crash just outside the door accompanied by a familiar sound that turns your blood to ice.

It’s unmistakable. The clicking, guttural and stuttered, is followed by a high-pitched shriek that echoes throughout the small space, and you both freeze. You look up at Joel, terrified, and he raises a finger to his lips, eyes telling you to be quiet or else.

There’s no way either of you can unholster your guns—and reload, in your case—without alerting it to your position. Joel reaches for the hunting knife strapped to his thigh, and you move to do the same, only to realize it isn't there.

Fuck, it has to be somewhere. Probably in one of the dozen random holsters you have attached to you right now.

Frantic, you pat at your sides and legs—anywhere it could be—as your panicked intakes of breath gradually increase in volume. A hand slaps over your mouth, and suddenly Joel is crushing your body against the wall, halting your movements.

"Quit," he whispers harshly, lips brushing the shell of your ear, and you nod quickly.

The creature abruptly changes course, jerking toward the open window, and that’s when you notice something familiar by its feet. It's—fuck, it's your backpack. And your knife is gleaming from where it sits, nestled in one of the side pockets.

Stupid, that was so stupid. If, by some miracle, this thing doesn't kill you, there’s no doubt Joel will once he realizes your mistake. His hand drops from your mouth and he glances back over his shoulder at the clicker, gripping his knife a little tighter.

He looks resolute, and it dawns on you that he’s about to make a move. It takes everything you’ve got not to grab onto his coat and pull him back to you as he slowly shifts away, but then something else stops him in his tracks.

Another screech rings out from the other side of the room, and now you know you’re fucked. There’s only one option left now. Either you run, or you get torn apart. He reaches down to take your hand in his, warring emotions of anger and fear in his eyes as he looks into yours, and squeezes; it’s now or never.

The path to the doorway you came through is somehow miraculously clear, and Joel takes off at a sprint, dragging you with him but, to his horror, you decide to do yet another stupid thing.

For reasons you can’t explain, you find yourself ripping your hand out of his, swerving to snatch your backpack from where it lies just a few feet from the clicker.

Joel is yelling, or at least you think he is, and you vaguely feel his blunt nails scratch the back of your hand as he reaches out to stop you, but he can’t. You’re moving on autopilot, can barely register your body moving at all, until your fingertips skim the strap of your pack and the clicker is shrieking in your face.

You don’t think you’ve ever been this close to one before, even dead, and it’s worse than you could’ve ever imagined. The world freezes for a moment and you freeze with it, unable to move or look away from the fungus erupting from its skull, teeth gnashing inches away from your throat.

And then you feel warmth—warm, strong arms wrap around your waist and tug harder and harder until you’re back out in the cold. Joel spots his horse a short distance away, likely spooked by the commotion, but you can’t see much farther than that. What was a gentle flurry less than a half hour ago has become a violent blizzard, and you’re both getting pelted by ice that burns as it scrapes across your skin.

There’s one horse—just Joel’s horse—but there’s no time to think about the fate of your own before his hands are on your hips, lifting you up and into the saddle, and he’s climbing on in front of you.

He urges his horse forward and you’re off without so much as a glance behind you, galloping away from danger and down a street that you realize you actually recognize.

“Joel,” you squeeze his waist and he ignores you. He’s shaking and it’s definitely not just from the cold. You can feel the anger radiating off of him in waves and it’s warranted. You fucked up big time. “Joel, turn right,” you say a little louder, and he’s still not listening. “Turn right! There’s a library up ahead, you have to turn now!”

He growls, and you think he’s purposely going to miss the turn until he’s yanking the reins to the right, nearly throwing you both off the horse.

“You better know what the fuck you’re doin’,” he all but shouts back, and you wrap your arms around his waist a little tighter.

“It’s safe!” you yell, struggling to speak loud enough for him to hear you over the wind. “Ellie’s been there before, loads of times, and she says it’s safe. “

And that’s all it takes to convince him.

The library’s completely boarded up and, with the wind howling against your backs, it takes more than a few hard tugs to yank enough of them off to get inside the lobby with Joel’s horse.

He hands you the reins before moving into the next room, crouching along the rows of aging books and knocked-over bookcases, and you peek in, watching him anxiously. Cracked bricks litter the ground, and he steps over a few as he crouches into place behind a broken book cart.

He picks one up and then shoots you a look, eyebrows lifting pointedly, and you realize he wants you to get back into the lobby, out of sight. You duck behind the wall, placing a soothing hand on his horse right as you hear the sound of the brick shattering against the ground, and wait. A few agonizing seconds pass before you hear him throw one more a little farther out, just to be sure.

When nothing startles or jumps out, Joel whistles and you know that’s your cue to come out from your hiding spot. Normally, that would piss you off immensely, him whistling for you like you’re a fucking animal, but you can’t find it in yourself to care right now.

You’re exhausted now that the adrenaline’s wearing off, and the only thing you want to do is curl up into one of the torn-up chairs in the corner and pass out until morning. But that’s not what Joel has in mind.

“Y’think you’re off the hook for the shit you pulled earlier?”

You sigh, head tipping back and thumping against the bookcase behind you. “Do we have to do this right now? Joel, I’m tired and hungry, and fucking cold, and I really don’t have the energy.”

“Seriously? Sure looked like ya had the energy when you were runnin’ straight into that clicker’s mouth,” he scowls, reaching down to grab something next to the book cart and throwing it at your feet. “Thought ya might want this back since you apparently decided it was worth more than your life.”

You inhale sharply through your nose, eyebrows pinching together. Joel…he—

It's your backpack.

You were so sure it got left behind when he saved you from that clicker and yet, there it is. You lean over to pick it up, but Joel kicks it out of reach before you get the chance. He looks livid and now, you realize, you’re about to get that lecture you dodged earlier tenfold.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Me? I'm not the one having an identity crisis! You’ve been nothing but distracting all damn day,” you scoff bitterly. “None of this would've happened if you hadn't had a complete personality makeover overnight.”

You can’t believe he…is he serious? There’s no way you’re taking the fall for this, not all of it. Yeah, you fucked up with the backpack, but Joel isn't entirely blameless, either. If you hadn’t been fighting again, you would’ve just signed the stupid logbook and moved on like you were supposed to.

"Yeah, alright, sweetheart. It's my fault you almost got us both killed. Maybe you’re forgettin’ I saved your goddamn life back there, somethin' I wouldn't have had to do if you hadn't gone and done something so fuckin’ stupid."

Sweetheart.

"Stop calling me that! I…fuck, Joel, I just don't get you. I get it—I know I fucked up, but…,” your voice cracks and you can feel your lower lip wobbling, but you can’t let yourself cry. That would only prove to Joel what he already knows—you’re weak. “I’m sorry, okay? What more do you want from me?”

He chuckles mirthlessly. “You really wanna know what I want from ya?” He crowds your space, leaning in slightly. His head tilts like he's going to kiss you, and your breath hitches. “I want ya to get your shit together and stop makin’ unnecessary mistakes,” he says cruelly instead.

Your jaw drops.

"No, you know what? Fuck this,” you seethe. “When we get back to Jackson, I’m telling Tommy to never put me on your patrols again. I can’t do this anymore.”

“Think I give a shit about that? Go ahead, you’d be doin’ me a favor!” he yells at your back as you storm away, and you flip him off over your shoulder. Behind you, he sighs heavily, sounding as worn out and frustrated as you feel.

What a load of bullshit. You don't deserve to be treated like this. There's a stark difference between the inconsequential arguments you normally have and whatever the hell that was.

And the worst part? It hurts so much more than you expected it to. Leave it to you to get attached to the asshole whose personal mission it is to make you miserable. This whole thing was fun while it lasted, but you meant what you said. You and Joel, it’s over.

You exhale wetly, tears still threatening to fall as you leave him behind in what the yellowing signs tell you is the romance section. Well, isn’t that ironic.

You quickly realize navigating the library in the dark is more difficult than you anticipated, even with your flashlight. Not even ten steps away from where you started, you trip over something protruding from the ground and almost land flat on your face.

Joel comes running over as you let out a frustrated noise and push yourself up onto your knees. His knife is at the ready like he was expecting danger but, no, it’s just you humiliating yourself even further. He lets out a relieved sigh, holstering his knife, but then just stands there glaring down at you.

“I’m fine, by the way,��� you wave a hand from the ground. He shakes his head, reaching down to help you up, and his hand feels so nice in yours—big, strong, and calloused.

You curse yourself for still thinking about him like that, like anything at all, but you can't help it. And when his hand drops yours, it feels distinctly cold and empty.

Shaking it off, you aim your flashlight at the offending spot on the floor. “What is that, anyway?” you ask Joel as he crouches down to brush away some of the dirt and debris.

“A handle,” he mumbles, pulling out his knife again and digging it into a crack in the floor, tracing around what looks like…a door?

“Is that a trapdoor?” You lean over his shoulder to get a better look. He looks back at you and nods, looking a little less angry and a lot more concerned. “Well, should we check it out?”

Instead of answering you, he wrenches the door open and shines his flashlight into the opening. There’s a ladder leading down and you can hear something rumbling below that sounds like a generator.

“Stay here,” he eyes you sternly as he begins his descent down the ladder.

“Uh, yeah, that’s not happening,” you scoff, following him. The ladder’s longer than you expected, and once your feet touch the ground, you reach out to run your hands along the wall, searching for a light switch.

A few moments later, your fingers come across something vaguely switch-like and you flip it, a warm glow filling the room, emanating from about a dozen heat lamps hanging from the ceiling. Your eyes adjust and—

“No fucking way.”

Joel is silent beside you, and you glance over, his expression just as stunned as yours is. You step closer. “Is that…?”

“Weed,” he breathes out.

You didn’t mean to get this high. Really, you didn’t. But you're in a fucking grow room hidden beneath a library in some tiny, backwater town, and you almost just died. So really, what reason was there not to?

The blizzard’s still going strong outside and, at the very least, it’s nice and warm down here. There's also the added bonus of something fun to do while you wait it out.

…Yeahhh, so you might’ve found a mason jar full of already rolled joints between some couch cushions, literally just sitting there for the taking. What were you supposed to do? Not smoke them?

But what surprises you even more than the pot itself is that Joel is smoking it, too.

It’s cute how he coughs after every drag, eyes watering as you pass a joint back and forth. The air is thick with smoke and a strange tension that neither of you can really describe, but you’re not fighting anymore. Not yet, at least.

The couch you're sitting on is cozy and less tattered than the chairs upstairs, so you settle there for the night, sitting closer than you ever willingly have before. Enough time has passed that you’re beginning to realize neither of you plans on moving, either. That you’re actually enjoying each other’s company.

The warmth of him seeps pleasantly through your clothes, and he feels so solid and real against you. Unconsciously, you melt into his side, your fuzzy brain chemicals urging you to feel more, more of him, and he tenses only for a moment before lifting an arm to rest behind you on the back of the couch.

It's strange how readily he's accepting your touch now. With each drag, you feel a little braver and press more of your body into his, draping your legs across his lap and nesting your head in the crook of his neck. He goes boneless when you mouth damply at the skin just below his jaw, his throat rumbling under your lips as he lets out a ragged breath.

You’ve both loosened up so much since earlier. It’s an easy, comfortable sort of peace you’ve found down here, even after the horrors you experienced earlier in the day. Part of you wishes it could always be like this with Joel but, then again, that just wouldn’t be you and Joel.

Your relationship thrives on the way you fight, almost like you can’t exist together without the promise of battle. So, when the high wears off and the world feels less lazy and more dire, you’ll both remember with sharp clarity that you hate each other. The memories will fade away and the war will continue. That’s just how it is.

It’s a little sad when you think about it, but for at least a little while longer, you’ll still have this version of you and Joel. You’ll enjoy the way he feels pressed up against your body; the way he feels pliant and suggestible under your lips.

And you’ll ask the question that’s been eating away at you all day because right now, you’re positive your lips can convince him to do anything.

“Tell me why you keep calling me sweetheart,” you murmur against his skin. He freezes, clearly not expecting you to bring it up again. You lift the blunt to his lips and encourage him to inhale to calm his nerves. The smoke plumes from his nose like a dragon as he exhales, and you're enraptured by the way it swirls through the air before dissipating. He braces a hand on your thigh before responding.

"Well, I…uh—," he mumbles, his cheeks turning a deep shade of burgundy, and you can’t resist reaching out to stroke the heated skin with your fingertips. He breathes shakily as he continues, "I—had a dream about ya last night, and…you, uh—you were…"

He cuts himself off, and your mind goes fuzzy for a moment as you let that little bit of information sink in. So, Joel was dreaming about you last night…and now, he’s treating you so much differently. Calling you pet names, eyeing you up, touching you. It all makes sense—but now you need him to tell you everything.

"What was I doing in your dream, Joel?"

He meets your gaze, looking flustered and a little ashamed, and it's a far cry from the man who was yelling at you not even an hour or two ago.

"You, uh," he clears his throat, still hesitating. You bite your bottom lip in anticipation, sucking it wetly into your mouth, and his eyes darken. He lifts a thumb to your mouth, tugging your lip down just slightly, and you can see the moment his apprehension disappears. "You were on your knees for me," he murmurs. "Doin' such a good job, too, workin' that pretty mouth of yours."

You inhale sharply and his thumb drops, but his eyes never leave your lips. Gingerly, you pluck the joint still burning between his fingers and take one last deep drag before flicking the rest to the side and crashing your lips onto his.

God, they feel exactly like you thought they would, soft and a little chapped from the cold, but so fucking eager against yours. You hold his face in your hands, rubbing your thumbs along the roughness of his beard, and he groans as you exhale into his mouth, tasting the smoke on your tongue.

Sighing, you lean back slowly, heavy-lidded eyes roving over his face to take in his kiss-swollen lips and that beautiful burgundy flush. He's so pretty, and you can’t help but run your fingers through his thick, graying hair as he pants heavily below you.

You need to feel more of him, all of him, so you climb into his lap, straddling his hips and grinding down against where he's already straining in his pants. He grips you tighter in response, working you steadily across his hardening cock.

"Keep going,” you moan breathily. You're already so wet, and heat blooms in your belly every time your clit grazes the seam of his jeans. It's a foggy, hazy pleasure, what you feel when he speaks, and you're addicted to it. “Keep telling me about your dream—a-about my mouth…I wanna hear more.“

You feel rather than hear him growl low in his throat as he ducks his head down to your neck, sucking and biting bruises into your skin.

“Your mouth…so fuckin’ wet—s-soft and tight around my cock,” he sucks hard under your jaw, and you gasp. “Takin’ me all the way down, like I always knew you could.”

Your breath hitches, eyes rolling back. The thought of him dreaming about his cock down your throat makes your cunt pulse, and now you're positive you're soaking through his pants.

You bet he thinks about it when you're on patrol together, too—that when you're fighting like you've both got something to prove, he's thinking about shutting you up with his cock. Fucking your mouth to show you that what he says goes.

"M-more, Joel…ngh, fuck, I need more," you reach down to shove his shirt up so you can feel him, his stomach flexing and unflexing under your palms. He starts to buck into your clothed pussy faster, like he's fucking you through the fabric, and you whine pathetically as he tugs hard on your hair, yanking your head to the side.

"S’alright, n-needy girl, 'm gonna tell you exactly how I was fuckin' that sweet mouth of yours last night…h-how you were—," he groans raggedly in your ear, voice cracking, and you swear you can feel his heartbeat racing between your legs. "…c-chokin' and gaggin' around my cock while I was cummin' down your throat…"

He keeps giving you what you asked for, tells you all the filthy shit he wants to do to your mouth, and his hips start to stutter like he's bringing himself closer to orgasm with his own words. It would make a lot of sense—Joel's always loved the sound of his own voice, especially when it's directed at you.

But you can’t hear much of anything anymore aside from the sound of your own stuttered moaning, suddenly so, so close to hurtling over the edge with him. You’re sliding so easily over his cock now and you brace your hands on his shoulders as your thighs start to quake around his waist. He digs his fingers into the plush curve of your ass, pulling you down harder, but you squeeze his shoulders roughly to get his attention.

“Y-you—Joel, you can’t cum,” you whine into his neck, and he all but snarls in response. “No…no, no, no. Want you t-to fuck my mouth—you have to cum in my mouth—”

He abruptly yanks you off his lap, shoving you back onto the couch and wrenching your jeans and underwear down in two hard tugs.

You barely have time to let out a squeal before he buries his face in your cunt, honing in on your clit and sucking wetly. He flattens his tongue, circling once, twice, three times, and then you’re cumming with a loud exhale, gushing as you grind into his face.

Your pussy’s still pulsing, locking down around nothing, as you tug him off of you by his hair.

“Joel—jeans..o-off…now.” You help him push them down just enough to free his cock, and then your mouth is on him, sucking him down to the hilt.

His hips buck off the couch of their own accord and he groans pathetically as you gag around him. He’s petting your head and saying something raggedly above you, likely apologizing for hurting you, but it’s drowned out by the blood rushing in your ears.

Instead of pulling off to reassure him that you very much want him to keep gagging you, you guide his hands to bury themselves in your hair and squeeze his thigh, praying he gets the hint. His fingers tense against your scalp as he holds you in place and, yeah, he absolutely gets it.

Your head feels like it’s disconnecting from the rest of your body as he starts fucking into your mouth the way he was probably dreaming about last night. He’s just so fucking big, and you feel a weird sort of pride bloom in your chest at being able to take him like this.

Tears are streaming down your face from the effort and you’re drooling all over his lap but, fuck, if he wants to do this every time you patrol together, you’ll let him. You take back everything you said before—if Tommy ever takes you off Joel’s patrols, you’ll kill him.

His fingers start to tug harder, painfully at your hair and you can hear him moaning something above you, his words slurred and desperate.

“S-so fuckin’ good, sweetheart, you’re…ngh—fuckin’ perfect,” he grits through his teeth, breath hitching as you wrap your lips tighter around him, flattening your tongue along the underside of his length. “‘m gonna cum…fuck, fuck—need you t-to swallow it all, sweetheart… know you can do it…so goddamn good.”

Humming and swallowing around him, you reach up to cup his balls and he erupts, pumping thick cum into your mouth and down your throat. Deep groans are punched out of his chest with every spurt and you can feel his cock pulsing against your tongue.

There’s so much of it. You try your best to do what he asked, to be good and swallow everything, but it’s starting to leak out the corners of your mouth and down his cock. Slurping up as much as you can, you pull off with an audible pop and lick off the rest of the salty, white streaks remaining on his skin.

When your watery eyes finally meet his, he’s looking at you like maybe he really has been dreaming this whole time. He’s still a little dazed, from both the weed and the intense orgasm, and he reaches out to cradle your face in his hands almost as if to prove to himself that you’re real. It’s a surprisingly tender gesture that kind of makes your heart ache.

Your lips quirk up as you lean into his touch, aching to prolong the moment, and he leans forward to press a sweet kiss to them, mouth coaxing yours open to taste himself on your tongue. You whine softly as his tongue runs along your bottom lip, and then he pulls back, hauling you into his arms to lie back on the couch.

Those heat lamps feel unbearable now. You're both hot and sweating, chests heaving from exertion, but you still refuse to separate from each other. Your brain’s feeling a lot less foggy, so you’re probably coming down from your high, which means Joel is, too. The realization sends a pang of worry through your chest like you expect him to suddenly come to and push you away, but he doesn’t.

Instead, he pulls your back to his chest, positioning your bodies more comfortably before murmuring fondly in your ear, "You’re somethin’ else, y’know that?”

You breathe out a sigh of relief. Maybe you’ll get to keep this after all—and without sacrificing everything that makes you and Joel, well…you and Joel. You twist around to shoot him an unimpressed look, but the burgeoning grin on your face betrays you.

“What, you’re just figuring that out? Took you long enough.”

He scoffs. “Listen, sweetheart—“ But you gasp, cutting him off before he can finish his sentence. No, way. How are you just putting two and two together now?

“Wait…oh my god, wait—is this why you keep calling me sweetheart? Because it's what you called me when I was blowing you in your sex dream?” You’re grinning so hard it hurts. How the fuck didn't you notice that earlier?

There was plenty of time to work it out when you were all but fucking on the couch for the past hour. But then…he didn’t actually start calling you sweetheart until he was cumming, and the realization makes your cunt throb. You file that information away for now, but make a mental note to come back to it later—hopefully back in Jackson with Joel.

…who’s still mumbling irritatedly into your shoulder. You tilt your head back to press your lips under his jaw, and you're quickly learning that kissing that particular spot turns him to jelly.

“You can keep calling me sweetheart,” you start, thinking over your next words carefully. “But I’ve got conditions.”

“Oh, she’s got demands now,” you can hear the dramatic eye roll in his voice. You suck a bruise into his skin to stop the back sass and it works spectacularly.

“Oh, shut up. It benefits you too, asshole,” you glare up at him before continuing. “I want your dick in my mouth every time we patrol from now on. And next time, you have to fuck me.”

His fingers dig into your sides, and you’re pretty sure you just felt his cock twitch against your ass.

“…Y-yeah, I, uh. I can do that,” he stutters, suddenly demure, and it dawns on you how much you like seeing all these different sides of Joel. He’s been mean and angry, shy and tender, and so fucking sexy all in the span of a single day. It's not something you ever would've expected from him.

You used to think he was just some grumpy old man and that his one personality trait was being an obnoxious jerk, but tonight you were proven very, very wrong.

You pull his arms tighter around you, let yourself get lost in the steady thrum of his heartbeat against your back, and hum contently. You’ll have to thank Ellie and her weed-grower friend later.

“Y’know, I almost thought you were gonna say no more fighting,” he says after a few seconds of silence. You look up at him incredulously, and he chuckles.

“Nah, where’s the fun in that?”

thanks so much for reading! 🥰

[befuddledcinnamonroll]

Top 10 Things I Love About the QL Tumblr Community 2023

I'm loving everyone's end of year lists, and decided to make up one of my own.

I haven't been on Tumblr for very long and was originally just lurking. 2023 marks the year where I finally started posting, after I read a take that made me feel compelled to come to a fictional character's defense. (Saengtai, my poor little blorbo).

So in commemoration of my first proper year of active tumblring, I present what I love about this community (in no particular order).

(Side note - Technically I know this is still primarily a BL community, but I like to say QL because I am trying to manifest more lesbians for us.)

1) The Gifmakers

Y'all are a good 70% of the reason I joined Tumblr in the first place. There are so many show moments that I want to relive, but without having to search through videos. Sometimes I want to appreciate the aesthetics. Sometimes I want to remember adorable or goofy moments. Sometimes I just want to see cute boys eating each other's faces. Our gifmakers give all of that to us, with the addition of so much creativity and style.

There's too many amazing ones to mention everyone, but I have to shout out @sparklyeyedhimbo, because the way your brain works makes me so happy.

2) The expertise

The other part of why I joined Tumblr was to learn more about what BLs were out there and what I might be missing. And holy hell. Y'all are putting in the work. Not only lists and resources for finding all kinds of QLs, like these fabulous monthly breakdowns by @gunsatthaphan, but also amazing posts that add additional context, like @absolutebl's incredibly helpful breakdown of Asian honorifics. There is so much research people do, for fun! And then they share it!

3) The meta analysis

I frickin love reading people's takes and analyses on series. I love learning, I love seeing perspectives from people with different cultural backgrounds to my own, it's all so fascinating! There's so much context we can miss due to our own privileges, or lack of knowing about various cultures, or due to whatever bubbles we've been living in. People here are just so smart, and nuanced, and willing to reflect and think about things, and also push back at each other, but generally with respect (except when you call out the dumb shit you see, usually on Twitter or TikTok, where people are being reductive and dumb about gender and sexuality).

And I've seen a few takes where people complain about analyses, and say that the director/production doesn't do everything deliberately, and we're all reading too much into it. To which I say, eh, lighten up. How people connect to and relate to media has relevance beyond what was intended. The point is we get to think and discuss and learn and grow. That doesn't happen if we don't analyze.

Special shout out here to @respectthepetty because colors mean things!

4) The wild theories

The other side of the analysis coin, the clown cars y'all drive around in with the wildest of theories. I have happily climbed into an occasional clown car, and usually I am utterly wrong (*cough* Saifah *cough*). But it's a super fun ride. I love seeing how people's brains work. I love it when y'all are wrong. I love it when y'all are right. It's beautiful.

5) Immediate acceptance

I am one of those people who knows that I have a lot of good qualities, and also, always kind of expect rejection. Blame the childhood bullies, I guess. Anyway, whenever I delve into a new space, I still feel like a total dork that no one will want to talk to. It's kind of a fraught way to move through the world, but I manage.

Anyway, I started posting my thoughts as they came up, and people are just totally cool with it. People even follow me sometimes. Even my silliest thoughts and dumbest jokes get at least a couple likes. It's so validating.

And my very silly joke about gay mafia in Kiseki has over 800 likes. I feel very seen.

6) Mutuals

I still kind of can't believe I have any. This ties in to the dork feeling above, but seriously - they are soooo cooooool. They're smart and awesome and funny, and they somehow find me worth following back, which is baffling yet wonderful. I want to squish their faces and give them many kisses (if they're into that kind of thing).

7) The self-exploration

I really appreciate how it's become more talked about how a lot of people are discovering queerness through BL, because that is so the case for me. I think it's both that I was in a bit of a hetero bubble before, and also that I'm evolving a bit as I age. I had figured out I was demi, and maybe a little bit gay, before getting in to BL, but being in this community, and seeing so many of you share so openly and freely, has made me realize it might be more than a little bit.

Either it was a new realization, or being around y'all has made me more gay. Win win, either way.

8) The weirdness

I'm weird. Y'all are weird. I love it.

9) The thirst

So many in this community are thirsty as fuck, and as someone who is in that same condition, I love that it's not just me. There are not many places where I can freely admit how horny I am as a part of my general existence.

Here? I could post about wanting to lick some random BL actor's face, and it would get a bunch of likes and some tags like #lickable, and it's just not remotely a big deal.

Also the gifmakers understand this, and give us beautiful cuts of our spicy scenes. They are genuinely too good for us.

10) The communal watching experience

There is absolutely nothing like watching along with people in the community. It is so worth the torture of having to wait week to week for new episodes. Seeing the show trend, watching the theories fly fast and furious, or the way everyone collectively loses their minds over particular moments. In a world that can feel very isolating, it's a very warm experience.

So there you go. Thank you all for being you. Here's to another year of QL shenanigans and losing our collective minds!

[anti-subtle-b]

Whenever I go back to the Murderbot Diaries book series it’s very comforting. Part of this is because I’ve listened to the books so many times and I know what is going to happen. But the familiarity isn’t just ‘I know these words,’ I also feel very seen in the text.

SecUnit isn’t like the people around it, the people it cares about. And it doesn’t want to be. The crux of the series is navigating an array of challenges that stem from the fact that SecUnit doesn’t want to be human, but it still deserves rights and autonomy and it isn’t wrong to feel these things. 

In one of the books we get the line

“I don’t want to be human.”

Dr. Mensah said, “That’s not an attitude a lot of humans are going to understand. We tend to think that because a bot or a construct looks human, its ultimate goal would be to become human.”

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

The fight for personhood has to do with rights, not for being person-like. The point is not to change SecUnit, the point is that the system has been abusing SecUnit.

This is part of what makes me feel seen (the rest of the being seen is all in the autistic coding of our lovely SecUnit). Because I don’t want to be different than I am, at least not in most ways. 

I want to be met where I am at. 

Other neurodiverse and disabled folks **EDIT** *AND QUEER FOLKS I CAN’T BELIEVE I DIDN’T THINK OF THAT UNTIL PEOPLE POINTED IT OUT!!* have voiced this same idea I don’t need to be like you to have personhood, my personhood should not hinge on whether you ‘get’ me.

Through the book we SEE people, humans and bots, meeting SecUnit where it is at. When it tells the Preservation crew or ART that it dislikes eye contact they don’t try to make eye contact with SecUnit, they give it drones to look through so it can continue to AVOID eye contact. We also see SecUnit meeting other bots where they are at, communicating in the languages native to their processing systems. It’s so lovely.

[ipushedthewrongbutton]

Imma do this final vent and then I’ll shut up about it.

This was a dumb move, from every possible perspective.

In the og goodbye video, they really made it sound like they were doing the streaming service because they wanted to go bigger, make cooler videos, really see what they could do and let their creative vision take the lead.

Growing as an artist is what you do when you Already Have The Money To Do So. You don’t tell your audience “give me money and then I will use to it to make cooler bigger things”. That’s not a streaming service, that’s a kickstarter.

They didn’t have the numbers to pull a streaming service off either. “We think we’re ready for television quality content” no you don’t. Sorry, no you do not. Television quality content means 30-50 crew per project, means at least 4-5 production being worked on at the same time, and at least 4-5 productions being broadcast at the same time. Watcher has maybe 2 series they upload simultaneously and they have 25 employees TOTAL. Not even CLOSE to tv levels of content, who the fuck do you think you are???

Did they really think all 3 million of their subscribers were going to follow them on this? Including kids, whose spending is dependent on their parents? Including the casuals, who only subscribed for the occasional video? Including people for whom $6 dollars on another streaming service just isn’t an option? Why DIDN’T they poll this, was this being a surprise really that important??

AND why would you completely cut off another revenue? Even if YouTube is restrictive, it’s still another source of income. Cutting that off completely is… bold.

Especially since in the apology, they let it slip that no, actually, it’s because Watcher is on the brink of having to close up shop because they’re not making enough money with just the patreon, the merch sales, the ad reads, etc.

So… one of those is a lie. Or at least part of the truth.

But let’s assume they are in financial trouble, then this was still the dumbest they could’ve done.

Welcome to the entertainment industry where we follow 1 giant fucking rule: Kill Your Darlings.

Fellas, pals, amigos, bros, dudes. If your projects spend more than what they make, it’s time to downsize. Not upscale. Cut the shit that’s spending the most money, start concentrating on how you can conserve without having to fire your crew. Put the projects where you have to fly out and buy new stuff all the time on the back burner, you can get back to them once you actually have the money for them. Work with what you already have. You have a MASSIVE studio space, fuckin use it. You HAVE sets, you HAVE props, you HAVE talent and you have ideas. Start workshopping all the crazy and shit ideas you thought weren’t gonna work and start thinking how you could make them work with the lowest possible budget you can have. Your audience is there, they’ll watch whatever you throw at them. Now is the time to go crazy and see what sticks. You HAVE viewership. Collab. CONSTANTLY. Get it the fuck out there that you exist. A lot of people had no idea a patreon existed, mention it ALL THE TIME. To the point that it becomes annoying. Do it!

If your studio is becoming too expensive, get rid of it. Sorry, kill your darlings. Move some shit around in Steven Lim’s tesla garage, put up some green screens, this is where you work now until you can afford a studio in LA again, you dipshits. Editors can work from home, sound designers can work from home, writers and researchers can work from home, meetings can happen in someone’s kitchen or living room.

And finally: be transparent. Be honest to your audience and communicate. “We’re sorry to put Ghost Files on hiatus, however we can no longer justify the cost of traveling to locations.” The majority of your audience will understand and show patience. The part of your audience that matters will wait and enjoy your other wacky shit in the meantime. Hell, they might spontaneously start their own kickstarter because those who can, will want to support you financially, if you’re just hONEST WITH THEM.

As a business, you constantly have to choose between your financial stability and that of your employees, your vision and the future of your company and what you Want to do with it, and your integrity, the trust between you and your audience. (Especially that last one, businesses can’t pretend they don’t have a relationship with their audience, that’s not how business works, guys.)

When you’re in financial straits, one of those has to go. Watcher chose the latter, they should’ve picked the middle. Their grand television quality ideas can fucking wait, if money is a problem.

Look, I’m an artist too. I had a vision too. But it was either my creative vision or being able to afford food and rent. Creativity can wait, creativity will always be there once I can support it. Living comes ALWAYS first. Asking my audience to fund my huge artistic dreams though, with only the promise of something cool, NEVER even crossed my fucking mind. That’s what donations are for, that’s what the patreon is for.

They apologised. And good. But this was a dumb decision from the goddamn start. There were like 500 steps in between and they skipped all of it. And for what? For money? For grand ideas? For greed or for hubris? How many of their original subscribers are actually gonna come back? How much money did they lose with this stunt? If they really are in financial trouble, this MASSIVE risk -which is what it has always been- might just be their downfall. And it’d be 100% their own fucking fault.

[the-garbanzo-annex-jr]

by Corey Walker

The author of a book on Jewish American identity enjoyed a sellout crowd at a rescheduled event after the original discussion was canceled over the presence of a Zionist panelist.  Joshua Leifer, author of Tablets Shattered: The End of an American Jewish Century and the Future of Jewish Life, spoke alongside Rabbi Andy Bachman at the Center for New Jewish Culture in Brooklyn on Monday. The original discussion, which was scheduled at Powerhouse Books in Brooklyn last Tuesday, was canceled at the last minute by an employee who did not want the bookstore to platform a “Zionist” rabbi.  During Monday’s discussion, Leifer lambasted the cancellation as both “wrong and antisemitic” as well as “the dumbest strategic thing you can do.” The bookstore’s owner, Daniel Power, later clarified in an interview that Powerhouse Books does not maintain an official ban on Zionist authors and that the employee acted on her own. He revealed that the employee responsible for canceling the event quit on her own accord before he could fire her.  The bookstore issued an apology soon after the incident, writing, “litmus tests as a precondition for participation in public life are wrong. Rejections of dialogue, debate, and nuance are wrong.” Despite the inconvenience, the backlash over the viral incident seems to have benefited Leifer. Roughly 300 people attended the rescheduled discussion, as opposed to the estimated two dozen that showed up for the original event. Leifer’s book currently holds the number one spot in the “History of Judaism” section on Amazon. “In large part, this sanctuary is filled because of what happened,” Bachman stated at the event.  Leifer, a political progressive and writer, has issued blistering criticisms of Israel’s ongoing war in Gaza. He has called for a change in the “status quo” of Israeli policy and has encouraged the American Jewish community to reexamine its relationship with Israel.  In an essay published in The Atlantic, Leifer reflected on the decision to snub Bachman for being a Zionist, saying that it “exemplified the bind that many progressive American Jews face.” “We are caught between parts of an activist left demanding that we disavow our communities, even our families, as an entrance ticket, and a mainstream Jewish institutional world that has long marginalized critics of Israeli policy. Indeed, Jews who are committed to the flourishing of Jewish life in Israel and the Diaspora, and who are also outraged by Israel’s brutal war in Gaza, feel like we have little room to maneuver,” Leifer wrote. “My experience last week was so demoralizing in part because such episodes make moving the mainstream Jewish community much harder,” Leifer added. “Every time a left-wing activist insists that the only way to truly participate in the fight for peace and justice is to support the dissolution of Israel, it reinforces the zero-sum (and morally repulsive) idea that opposing the status quo requires Israel’s destruction.” 

Leifer still doesn't get it. Jew-hatred, in the guise of Israel hatred has become part of the progressive canon. "Critics of Israeli policy" are lionized, not marginalized among progressive Jews.

[fob4ever]

pete on the tuna for toast podcast 3.2.23

link

he tries to play golf once a week.

pete and the host talk about golf for a bit (they lost me here)

talks about the album title: "the parentheses being around the "for"- there is a little bit of "so much stardust"- i think about it in the way like- and it's like the dumbest thing, but everybody is stardust- everyone's these different molecules and carbon, former stars, and i think about that when i think about how different everybody on the planet is. we're all kind of the same still. and there's some relief in that."

pete: "love from the other side going number one after 17 years of our first appearance on the chart is like, the most fall out boy way to do it of all time. couldn't have done it way more than the way we did do it."

pete mostly writes lyrics on paper and on the notes app. sometimes if he's driving he'll have whoever's the passenger write it down for him. he doesn't do voice notes because he doesn't "think in those terms".

when they were writing smfsd, they had friends telling them that they should just release swgd 2.0, that it was the perfect time for it, but pete thought that was wrong and that it was "exactly not the time for it". he didn't want to do a retread, and he feels that when artists try to recapture the early magic it's just not possible. he thinks about when fob/mcr/patd first got big, green day felt like the position fob is in now, how GD had been a band for 20 years and they made a record that pete felt was adjacent to what they were doing & reminded people why green day was so big & why they loved them, and thats what they were channelling during the writing of lftos/smfsd- how it can be adjacent to all the stuff that's happening, but it shouldnt be a retread and it shouldnt be chasing what is happening right now

pete's been watching the last of us :)

"with srar and mania, we were just surviving! there was a pop culture landscape not super friendly to bands [...] and now this is a chance where everything's cyclical, and we have a chance to lean in to being the band we were in a futuristic way."

talks about the early days of fob and how their dreams were always "one size too big" and how pete always has that and it "drives patrick a little crazy" but they "fuel each other in that regard"

interviewer: "is it healthy to still have that state of mind [despite fob's achievements and success]?" pete: "hmmm... what would my therapist say..........." girl..

pete's been trying to enjoy the journey more: "[the band] has been hanging out way more than we [used to], we've been going out to dinner, exploring cities together and i think it helped this record."

patrick doesnt live in LA anymore!

"this is the first record in a while that we were in the same room together, we hashed things out, we passed notebooks back and forth. [...] we're a band where we get into it with each other but we're also siloed off from each other, this was the first time in a while where there was no silos"

"any feelings of doing a throwback is a little stomach-churning for me" so true pete

pete retells the panic origin story of ryan making fun of fob lol

talks about taking panic under their wing and how there were only a couple of bands that took fob under their wing when they first started like less than jake and punchline, and how he always liked the spirit of that.. talks about the communal spirit & culture surrounding hiphop music: "why couldnt we do that?"

"to me, [decaydance] was like seinfeld, like, you never knew who was going to show up at the apartment on seinfeld- they all lived in the same building... and i always thought 'why couldn't there be a record label like that?'" that tweet thats like. why gabe saporta da bus driver 😭

[punkzines]

TFP SOUNDWAVE X READER SHORT

reader just loves aliens.kinda.

a/n: let me just say this has been sitting in my drafts for like months…i might make this into mult. chapters…

In a moment of fear you had tried to escape, free yourself from the tight grasp of a tentacle-like cord that made itself oddly comfortable around your waist. It was mad, the whole situation seemed unreal.

But it was real.

How much you wish it wasn’t.

You couldn’t believe you were planning on doing something so reckless, so foolish. But it had to be done. There were too many rumors, too many sightings— consequences and conspiracies. You needed to do something, find out the truth.

You were a simple being, driven by curiosity and the thirst of knowledge. Knowledge wasn’t something you obtained easily though, as you were a low income student going to a local community college: Jasper, Nervada College. You had limited resources, oftentimes your power or internet ran out. But that was the reason why you went out. And why you are doing what you’re doing.

As of recent years, many people have reported sightings of UFO’s lurking around Jasper, Nevada. At first, you couldn’t consider the possibility. It was absurd, what would aliens want to do with Earth out of all the other planets that are so much better? But then— power outages, numerous reports— videos and photos that couldn’t be explained, and seemed too real to be edited, brought you a certain type of thrill you just simply couldn’t ignore.

So, you did what anyone would do, you’ve spent the last two years researching, and investigating. Looking around sites strangely suddenly closed by the government, staying up late because what alien wouldn’t wander around the night where they couldn’t be spotted? You collected newspapers, anything that would help. You admit, you never really found any evidence. There were times you thought you saw something strange at a car garage, some tall dark figure far away from a cliff, everything was so close yet you never actually got anywhere. Dead ends were becoming so common.

The drought of information made you consider giving up— what was the point? If there really were aliens, what could you hope to ever do with that information? Would you expose them? Profit off of them? You were in debt. But like always, the thoughts holding you back were the ones that brought you a step forward. You don’t know how they did it but they did. You were just magical like that.

For the past 6 months you’ve been contemplating on sneaking into an old, unused military base(you don't recall why it was abandoned, but maybe it was something you could now find out!) It was the dumbest yet smartest thing you’ve thought about doing. You planned on using your skills and gathering any information you could. Anything, who knows, maybe your tech skills would’ve been useful. You were at risk of being found out, jailed, but you were certain the place wasn’t used anymore— you’ve been watching it for some time already after getting off from college and work. You also had nothing to lose.

But of course, life ends up biting you in the ass. The fucking alien had to come to the same place as you did AND at the same time.

The tall metallic soulless creature brings you up rather quickly (giving you a scary view of its entire body) to its head— or what you assume is its head— and simply stares at you. Your head is spinning, things are happening too quick, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Compared to your heavy breathing, you’re not even sure you can sense it breathing.

“Let me go!” The demand practically goes unheard, as the robot creature does not stop its actions, but instead a purple light passes up and down your body, much like a scanner. You can’t let that stop your struggles.

You trashed around the grasp, elbowing, punching, anything to set you free. It was futile- escaping from the grasp, you knew it, yet you still tried. Briefly, you see some type of statistical analysis, if that’s what you could even call it— written in some type of strange code you’ve never seen before until you spot something familiar— your face.

You paused your attempts, body going still stricken with a deep feeling of dread. “What are you doing?” You asked, voice breaking down in fear. Was it information about you? Was it going to send it to someone? What if all this time you’ve been wrong and you’ve just stepped into some military government trap? This couldn’t be…

The screen goes blank. Your heart sinks as you see your reflection on the screen. You two were the only ones in this dark room, but the silence was so strong, it felt as if there was a third presence.

You couldn’t breathe— you were going to die. You really didn’t want to jump into conclusions so quickly, but if this robot was what you’ve been trying to prove was here on Earth… you were certain your death would be coming any second now.

Just as you thought of your goodbyes to the world and anyone who had been remotely kind to you, the cord around your waist starts to make its grasp harder on your waist, knocking out any air. It hurt.

In instinct you suck in your stomach but it does not alleviate the pain. Crying out in pain you try to escape the grasp, however the pain makes it hard to do so. You wanted this to be over— “If you’re going to kill me, at least make it painless-” You choke out, but are cut short when another cord hrabs your face harshly— gripping it tightly.

Your vision is gone, and your senses heightened. Why is this happening to me?You move your hands from the cord on your waist to the one on your face, trying to remove it.

It was getting harder to breathe, you figure from the lack of oxygen you're getting. Punching the cord wasn’t working, it hasn’t been. You were trapped.

Your body betrays you as your heartbeat begins to slow down, your eyes start growing heavy. Your hands fall from the cord connected to your face as you go limp.

[infoglitch]

My very bad takes on rwby ships (the well known ones atleast. And yes most are jaune)

(i do not represent anyone except myself so do not judge others based on me because if you do. That's YOUR problem. Not the peoples you think I represent)

Hoi! I think its time I get crucified. Kidding obviously. This community isn't completely toxic, that much is obvious. Now let's get the obvious ones out the way

Bmblb.

Ok... time for the one I don't wanna touch because I don't have nice things to say.

Ok first. I don't mind this ship. Wanna get that out of the way because unlike most would assume. I don't hate or love this ship.

BUT. I got problems with how it was made fucking cannon. First off, fuck you rt and your "from the beeginning". I don't fuckin care how much you try to cover your incompetent asses. If the pants don't fuckin fit. Don't fuckin wear them!

Second. There was no real build up (you can argue there was. But it wasn't good. Anyone could have done a better job than rt). The only real thing that could "prove" this was planned was that yang "flirted" with Blake. Now you might be saying-

"oh but she explained her trauma to Blake that clearly means shes interested in her" in which. NO. Yes this moment is VERY good basis to build off these twos dynamic. And if rt kept building onto this by having yang slowly break down Blake's wall before eventually getting her to open up, I would be applauding rt for it, hell I would be a fan of it probably because for these two, it fuckin works! Blake clearly is alot more reserved and is rather prickly meanwhile yang is the rambunctious, ass-whooping, badass, and overall awesome ball of joy (sounds weird saying especially since yang is my favorite character). yet rt dropped the fuckin ball the moment sun showed up. Now I love sun and i enjoy black sun. But for the love of GOD if this shit is from the beginning than this clearly proves it was fucking not!

After volume three who did blake spend most of the time with in menagerie and rt was clearly trying to push? Not bmblb! BLACK-FUCKING-SUN. Let's give a round of applause to RT for making the dumbest decision of saying bmblb was planned from the start because bitch it was not.

And what did we get for yang. Oh only her trauma from one losing an arm and the fact she has PTSD from it. Oh yeah let's not forget the fact yang had ABANDONMENT ISSUES. Yet the moment her and Blake meet back up suddenly it doesn't fuckin matter because Weiss managed to somehow fix it by telling yang that Blake had suffered as well (i know that's not exactly what happened but point is I fuckin HATE the scene where Blake rejoins the team and yang is just "OK! I totally still don't have problems with the fact you left me and the team at both my and our teams lowest moment." Personally fuck you rt)

.....where was I again? Oh yeah rwby ships. So before I fuckin lose it at rt's incompetence at story telling, developing a romance and character building- let's move on to..... whiterose.... SON OF A BIT-

Whiterose

Look does the fact I don't care for BB and the fact I hate white rose with such a burning passion make me look like a misogynistic homophobic asshole a bad thing? Yes. But I just can't enjoy this damn ship because I just find it so FUCKING BORING!

I get it, it's "opposites attract". But I just don't care because this is so boring and basic that I can't even be glad a gay ship is actually popular instead of the same boring straight pairings.

I don't care if ruby could help Weiss be less of a bitch. Because that troop has been done to fucking DEATH.

There's not even the fact that it be a middle finger to Weisses dad because guess what he's already got his comupance and is also you know, FUCKIN DEAD. There's no satisfaction from any of this ship for me. Is it a bad ship? Fuck no we aren't even going to cover THAT!

But do I like this ship and hope it'll be cannon? No. And if it is? I won't care and I'm not even gonna celebrate it. You can take a fat piss on my grave before I say whiterose becoming cannon is the only option.

Now what ship is next- oh. Oh no. It's the ship everyone enjoys.

Arkos

Look I'm already gonna get fuckin crucified for my opinion of WR and BB. I don't feel like pissing off even MORE people!

... ok fine I'm saying my opinion.

I don't care for this ship. I don't care for pyrrha and I'm actively glad she is dead.

I won't even elaborate because this ship is dead and will gladly piss on its grave.

Rest in piss arkos. Overrated as fuck!

Next up is... rose garden. Finally a ship I dont mind supporting... but also... one thats gonna be hard to say

Rose garden

Look... their just fuckin cinnamon rolls and I love it!

"but you hated arkos yet both jaune and pyrrha were cinna-"

Uhp! No! None of your bullshit. But I will explain.

I don't care for arkos because I don't care for the fact pyrrha has no development. Not even a personality. She was always "the one girl that has feelings for jaune" which don't get me wrong, jaunes one of my favorite characters but I prefer the character he would be shipped with are actually characters and not... cardboard.

Now thankfully Oscar does not suffer the same fate. He's not infatuated with ruby, he is just a "kid" who just found a wizard stuck in his head and now he's off into a war he never knew about. He was timid (batshit terrified even) and yet when he sees the courage shown by the cast he slowly tries to be like them. with the moment between ruby and Oscar being a moment I fuckin love. Oscar is being honest and asking ruby why, why does she keep fighting? Keep marching into a unknown war that could very well kill her. And ruby simply answers by admitting she Is aware she might die, she even lost good people during the fall of beacon but she kept going because she wanted to be a huntress, she wanted to HELP people.

One of the many reasons I love rose garden is because these two fuckin dorks grow WITH each other instead of the simple "oh I'm the love interest of the main character I'm gonna be a cardboard cutout of the character I should be!".

I can't put it into proper words but I just love rose garden.

Whiteknight

Wait... are we actually talking about white knight and not another ship that I probably don't care about and get crucified because of them?

FUCK YEAH!

Gentlemen and ladies. I am proud to say I am whiteknight trash because damnit I love this ship.

I will say it now this ship is the shit that gives my Tumblr account LIFE. And like rose garden I can't even find words to describe how this ship makes me my brain go up with dopamine. This ship is just my favorite ship. Weiss and jaune have had so much buildup. Starting with jaune being a idiot and trying to flirt with a very much more cold Weiss (HA) To Weiss laughing at jaunes reaction to his voice after the high of depression that was V9! The little smile jaune had as he heard Weiss giggle. To the mother fuckin mature scene that has skyrocketed to memehood! I just love this ship because it is just everything I want out of a romance subplot!

Knightshade

Oh... oh we already at some.... unpopular ships.

Now this isn't exactly ship related as pyrrha was to arkos but I just don't like Blake, so you might be thinking "oh then you must hate knightshade". Well..

You.

Are.

WRONG!

I don't know why I like it I just like knightshade. It's cute, it's got enough crack to make it a crack ship, and the memes! The. Fuckin. MEMES.

God I love knightshade.

Knightfall

So... how do I say this?

I love this ship. Not joking I love this. I'd be peeved if this became cannon but as syndrome once said

"OH COME ON! YOU GOTTA ADMIT THIS IS COOL!" (Man was a salty man and died like a BITCH)

As to why?

The

Fuckin

ANGST!

I could write an entire fanfic of jaune and cinder fighting each other for days on end until jaune fucking loses but instead of killing him cinder just lets him live. To continue to fight as she gets some sick enjoyment from the attention.

That's all. (Also cinder please choke me with your thighs-)

[GLITCH HAS BEEN TEMPORARILY BANNED.]

Alright I'll behave. No thirsting, now onto.... Lancaster.... you know I can't tell if I want to be killed or be celebrated as a fuckin gift because this list is bizarre as fu-

Lancaster

.... where do I begin?

Ok I should probably state this now. I love this fuckin ship despite how... cliche it really is. I want these two dorks to be fuckin happy but I just can't say whole hearted this is my otp. It's just not for me, I'm sorry. But as you all know I have written.. some.. Lancaster fanfics (I am absolute jaune shipper trash, you can Bury me before I say any jaune ship is terrible except THAT! Even arkos ain't bad just overrated!)

But... yes I like this ship that why I'm writing fanfics in the first place I like alot of jaune ships (despite how much I hate THAT!) Because we'll most female characters that I pair with jaune have atleast some form of interaction. (Except silent knight. I just like that one because I like the "small murderous and tall gentle" dynamic. But we aren't covering silent knight.)

Now thats all I could say for Lancaster but there's one more sister that I wanna talk about but first.

For runner up on this list. Drum roll please.

🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁

Thank you-

.....

Huh I guess that drummer wasn't as dumb-

🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁

Ok fuck you, your fired!

Now for runner up on this list (mainly because I like it but I don't have much to say-)

Martial arcs

(ha bet y'all rat bastards weren't expecting me to list a gay ship that I liked.)

Now all I have to say is.

🎶let them be fucking gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!~

OH YEAH!🎶

Now onto... my favorite one thats not white knight. The one, the only, the truest form of "what the fuck is glitch snorting"-

Dragon slayer

This is the one ship that has continued to be a ship I love dearly.

To me yang and jaune feel like they would be each other's wing(wo)man and would just be an ride to watch.

There wasn't even any evidence in why this ship could happen. But I still love it. Y'all can call it "just a write inserting themselves as jaune" but let me say this.

Dragon slayer is the Pinnacle of the most wholesome moments! Not even Lancaster can compare to the intimacy of this ship and yes! I AM TALKING OUT OF MY ASS BECAUSE I LOVE THIS STUPID SHIP AND AINT NO ONE TELLING ME I SHOULD BE ASHAMED!

....

Ok I think that's enough talking about Rwby ships for one Day because I've caused three things.

1) probably pissed off arkos, BB, and WR shipers.

2) weirded out quite literally everyone with my batshit insanity.

3) probably started a debate on what I mean when I say "THAT!"

Anyway have a great day/night/or what other time it is bitches, bros, and non-binary rat bastards

I'm off to get crucified because OH BOY did I probably poke the bear.

[skipppppy]

Anyway I’m bored and Carmen Sandiego renaissance is on the brain. What are these characters like when they aren’t focused on the main plot?? Non VILE/ACME/Caper related dialogue seems so few and far between.. I wish we got to see their lives outside work. So I made some headcanons abt it

CARMEN

Player was her first exposure to the outside world so she probably holds a lot of his nerdy interests close to her heart. She’s not the best at video games but plays them regardless. She especially enjoys sci-fi horror movies from the 80s that go big on practical effects

Finding random trivia about different countries is genuinely one of her favourite hobbies. The little info segments she does are not part of the edutainment show. She is genuinely just like that. This woman is a trove of fun facts please let her unleash them upon you

In the same vein she LOVES quizzes. After missions she will drag Team Red to any bar doing a trivia night in her vicinity and will wipe the floor with everyone there. Fear her

Enjoys people watching. It’s why she’s so good at charming strangers despite her socially stunted upbringing. She’ll sit alone in a busy train station for hours and watch everyone pass her by

PLAYER

Look. We know this kid is a nerd. It’s canon. But which niche of nerdiness does he fall into exactly?

Despite being an avid gamer he isn’t very competitive about it. He prefers single player rpgs, especially ones with active modding scenes. He doesn’t even know what vanilla Skyrim looks like he probably wasn’t even born yet when it released

He will, however, duo queue with Carmen on unranked Overwatch. They are both terrible at it and think it’s the funniest shit

Enjoys sitting back and watching a good speedrun. Will have a video of someone doing a stupid BOTW challenge in the background while he hacks security cameras and such

Runs a DnD campaign for Team Red which they’re all crazy invested in. Shadowsan is the only one who doesn’t care for it but he keeps rolling nat 20’s on the dumbest shit and derailing the campaign and he finds everyone’s reactions too entertaining to stop. They have a rivalry only a DM and a stupidly lucky rogue could have

ZACK

We already know he’s kind of a meathead that enjoys sports and cars and cheesy action movies but I also think he has a lot of softer hobbies that he keeps to himself bc he knows they won’t take him seriously

He’s a secret crocheter. He’ll mend the team’s clothes when they rip but that’s the extent of their knowledge. He’ll sit for hours by himself and knit while listening to music. Sometimes Shadowsan will find a new pair of socks in his bag. When Carmen got sick once she woke up with a handmade blanket draped over her. Ivy has her suspicions but doesn’t wanna intrude

He loves animals. He never really brings it up because no one ever asks. He always checks out local zoos and aquariums if he has the chance. Grew up watching Steve Irwin-esque nature shows and still does to this day

His love of eating is less out of greed and more his own form of cultural appreciation. Idk what happened to his and Ivy’s parents but for reasons he can’t explain their cooking is one of the few things he hasn’t forgotten, so he has a lot of sentimental food-based memories. And experiencing other countries cuisine connects him with that

IVY

PERIOD DRAMAS. They don’t have to be good they just have to be steamy. She enjoys the hot women in pretty dresses. She and Carmen watch Bridgerton together and laugh about how historically inaccurate it is

She LOVES renfaires and similar high fantasy roleplaying communities. Someone please buy this woman a suit of armour

As an engineering prodigy AND fantasy buff she has a massive interest in Blacksmithing and Swords. That’s her designated lesbian hobby. She’s been trying to politely worm her way into a conversation with Shadowsan about the blade he returned to his brother for months now but isn’t sure if it’s too personal of a topic for him so she’s nervous

Her sweet tooth encompasses more than just chocolate. She’s secretly grateful to Zack since he takes most of the flack for being a glutton. She makes note of any bakeries they pass by on capers so she can come back later in secret and go ham on the pastries

SHADOWSAN

I think his interest in Samurai history starts and ends with his love for Hideo. He’ll happily discuss it and he’s studied it passionately, but out of a sense of respect and duty to do right by the brother he betrayed

He will NEVER, EVER admit it to anyone but he genuinely misses the adrenaline rush from committing petty crimes. He was a criminal for over 20 years. Lifestyles are hard to shake and change isn’t linear. He’d never succumb to impulse but he’s just kinda bored

He microdoses on the urge by pranking people. Everyone always blames Zack so he never gets caught. He also enjoys sneaking up on people and making them jump. He’ll always insist it’s unintentional. It isn’t

He’ll read and meditate and train to keep himself centred but he’s still a rowdy young punk at heart. Team Red is the first taste of freedom he’s had after a lifetime of VILE faculty monitoring him. The first thing he bought for himself after settling in at the San Diego HQ was a motorbike. The second was a new tattoo. The third was a potentially lethal amount of whiskey that he drank in one sitting

JULIA

We know she has a passion for history outside her work in Law Enforcement so she definitely goes to all kinds of museums in her free time. She’s the kind of person who enjoys learning just for the sake of learning (she and Carmen have that in common)

Outside of that she’s surprisingly good at karaoke? She gets stage fright but really likes singing and will go all out if you hype her up. Her taste in music is the exact opposite of her appearance and personality. Lots and lots of death metal

An aficionado for different types of tea. She keeps like 10 flavours in her house at all times. She especially likes floral ones that taste light and sweet. She hates iced tea with a passion though

Goes to botanical gardens whenever the weather is warm and the season is right. She likes the history of the old manor houses but she also loves admiring the landscaping and the blooming flowers. She could sit on a bench surrounded by local flora and fauna for hours

DEVINEAUX

Chase is an entirely different person when he’s off the clock. The unhinged high-energy maniac who froths at the mouth about La Femme Rouge goes dormant once he gets home. Especially after he got stranded on VILE island. That really gave him some introspection about work/life balance

The biggest, softest, sappiest hopeless romantic you will ever meet in your life. Passion is just part of his nature and he gets his heart broken A LOT. It’s why he throws himself into his work

He’s a really good chef. Like REALLY good. Before he was a cop he did a few summers as a line cook in his teen years and he retained most of the knowledge. His pantry is STACKED and he tries out recipes he picked up from his ACME travels in his free time. He’s a tad snobby about it because he’s French but you will not complain about the stuff he feeds you

Old movie enjoyer. His favourites are film noirs, cheesy romances, creepy eastern european animation and german expressionism. He has a fervent hatred of Marvel

Also one of those insane people who get up at 5am to do cardio. One morning before a mission he met Agent Zari with barely a glisten of sweat on his forehead and sadly informed her that he only got to run 15k and he wished he had time to do more. That was the first time she ever knew fear

[dayacakrawala]

You have no media literacy stop talking about Transformers especially the MTMTE series if you don't understand the way characters especially Megatron is written. He wasn't "Mary sued" he's a flawed character and everyone points that out. Throughout the entire franchise he has always been a redeemable character. He was redeemed in the prime show, in war for cybertron for a bit, and even the bayverse movies would have had him redeemed if the 3rd movie ending wasn't leaked (actually interesting thing that he was supposed to be redeemed but because the ending was leaked it was changed) and there's an ENTIRE SHOW (Earthspark) where he is actively getting redeemed.

Find your media literacy please cause rn it's shit 🙏

Dude, really? This god-forsaken blog has <20 followers (some smell bot to me, ironically), and you are already here. What are you, to just materialize here? A hound of Tindalos?

You know what's the most hilarious? I have an academic degree in media (culture, communication, all this shit), which makes me more media-literate than you and most people you interact with. And Megatron's "redemption arc" is STILL shit to me. To me, who loves villains, glorious bastards, atoning sinners, and byronic heroes.

But you know, you can't just throw a trope or an archetype into your story. It has to fit. If you put a byronic hero in a sitcom, they'll be a walking joke. If you put a byronic hero in a story, taking place in a world, going through the consequences of a grievous war, and their struggles start pushing others' stories and trauma aside, and this hero happens to be an ex-villain… Man, that may result in a tremendous suck.

James Roberts loved his Megatron. He loved him to the point that he made his Optimus Prime the dumbest fool in the known universe. The most unwise in the worst way. He ruined the whole idea of Optimus and Megatron knowing each other, as enemies, the best. One of the best tropes, older than balls but still working. That's why I consider MTMTE Megs a Marty Sue. He's the author's favorite boy, and everything gets sacrificed for his glory.

I'm not gonna analyze the whole list of Megatron's redemptions to show you that things can be done differently. If you're not completely taken by a fictional apple of your eye, you'll see. In Prime, his redemption is put at the end of the show, after his bad religious experience, as "and it was whole another story". Funny, they did it better than some old "serious" media. I can recall reading M. Corelli's "The Sorrows of Satan", where the main character, after slipping from the hands of Satan himself, just continued being a jerk that I really despised.

Ah, it's getting long. Tumblr is not a good place to learn fancy new words like "media literacy". It doesn't teach you how to use them properly. It's better for being a kinky freak, though. 

[ionobjectshow]

☢ Have you often heard the opinion that ION has a lot of "sexy" jokes? You know what's the dumbest thing?

☢ Half of the "sexy" jokes people talk about I didn't even plan in that sense when I created the episodes. For example, for a very long time I could not understand why so many people made edits with a scene where Cracklin points his finger at Chief's gun.

☢ I REALLY didn't understand why. I have many versions…

☢ But then I found out the truth O_O....... ☢ I created many scenes with absolutely no sexual context. Therefore, the number of "sexy" jokes that everyone is talking about are those only in the opinion of the audience.

☢ What is happening around Cracklin in the community really repeats my life. I've had a stupid superpower all my life. Every time I want to say a normal thing in a conversation, for some reason it sounds like I'm putting in a sexual connotation!! But almost always it happens by accident!!😞My friends often joke about this. They know that I'm on the asexual spectrum and generally extremely shy /long sigh

☢ Cracklin fell into exactly the same story.

☢ I consciously put a lot of my experience into the Cracklin. But some things he took over from me by accident. It's so funny. I even like what's happening. This makes Cracklin more lively and better illustrates the problems autistic people have in communicating with neurotypicals. ☢ The end! /sniffles

[hetalia-club]

Historical Hetalia

I hate how the hetalia fandom makes England out to be this brilliant mastermind when actual he’s a petty idiot. And he’s been getting a pass for far too long.

Here are some of my favorite England moments through recent history. Absolut Looney Tunes bull shit.

Story 1:

America and England had a plan (that was really smart and would totally work) to build a tunnel under west Germany so they could go inside of it and listen in on what the Russians stationed there were saying.

A double Agent in England's side (but actually worked for Russia) went and blabbed about it. Russia was like “oh no! That’s such a good plan we should have thought of it! I know let’s let them half way finish the tunnel and then we can discover it then we can finish building it!” So that’s what happened America and England filled in the hole though and pretended like they got lost digging like a sewer pipe or something like that.

Story 2:

A rock exists on the coast of Scotland. This is a real big and cool rock… or that’s what England thought anyway. So worried about the rock he spent nights tossing and turning wondering if the big fuck ton of a rock was perhaps being used for spying, was it bugged? Perhaps it wasn’t a rock at all and it was a submarine? Tired of sleepless nights England sailed over there one day and placed a British flag on the rock and a plaque claiming it as official British territory. Scotland was so pissed because that was HIS very cool big rock! They are still fighting over who owns the rock today. I do think teh Scotts threw teh flag into the ocean.

Story 3:

Or the time that America had just recruited a new spy and he was on his way to meet his new British associates in NY for a spy mission they had against Russia. The British Spy’s thought he gave off sneaky vibes so the kidnapped him and killed him when he got to the meeting and then they just went inside and waited for him to show up. They contacted the CIA and were like “where’s your boy dog?” And they described him to the spy’s and they were like “New mission you guys need to find this guy because we lost communication and we think it might have been the KGB and he had important stuff on him” and the British Spy’s were like “um…. I think we know where to find him” *cue laugh track*

Story 4:

The British were spying in Russian waters in a submarine when they came across a Polish sub. They were super jealous because this one was pulling a bunch of hydrophones( devices that allowed to you listen inside of other submarines). So the British wanted them so they were real real quiet and they snuck up behind the sub and they cut the line. They took the hydrophones and made a quick get away without the Polish sub being any the wiser.

Poland had to go back to Russia and be like. "Remember the really expensive equipment you gave me to use? Yeah I think it broke off in the ocean and idk where we lost it though and I'm NOT going back for it so don't ask. Kay thanks bye!"

Story 4 (my favorite because it is the dumbest and I think about it a lot):

Let me set the scene It’s the Cold War and things are really hearting up and Britain and America are afraid that Russia may try and cross the iron curtain. America said they should burry land mines but then remembers that it would be too cold for the land mines to stay working in the winter time (Just remember this was some years ago). But our mastermind England had an original though. I'm just going to write out exactly how I think this conversation would have went because frankly it's just so dumb and I could not make this shit up if I tried.

America: Alright everybody i really think we need to do something about the Iron curtain Russia has been too bold lately. So I was thinking something like land mines but I'm not sure if it'll work they won't work in the winter which knowing Russia that's exactly when he would attack. If anyone has any ideas I'm open to them Now if we could all ju-

England: *lifting is head from the mountain of cocaine he just had his face buried in* Chickens!

America: I'm sorry what?

England: Chickens! Chickens you idiot!

America: What do you mean chickens, are you alright man?

England: Uh! You are so dumb. We get a bunch of chickens, we strap the land mines on them and we put the chickens into little cages. Then we burry the cages and give them enough food for about a week. And we can just change the chickens every week. The body heat of the chickens will keep the land mine warm, don't you see? We can use a remote to detonate the land mines ourselves.

America: Okay...that's a thought. Anyone else have any ideas? *Looks around the room of his allies as they all nod in agreement*

America: Germany, what's your thoughts on this? You don't think this is a good idea surely, right? Just burying chickens along the border of your country.

Germany: I like chickens.

America: This is worse than my idea to put little head sets on cats and turn them lose in Moscow, you all can't be forreal

Italy: Chickens are cool tho.

America: God Damn it. Okay Operation Chicken is-

England: No stupid you can't call it operation chicken, Russia will know what we are up to right away. We need to name it something discrete. If not he'll steal our chicken idea.

America: Russia dosen't want your stupid- Alright whatever, what do you want to call it then?

England: Operation Blue Bunny....No No! Blue Peacock

America: What the actual fuck is wrong with you?

(Provided a link for this one because I don't think any of you would believe me if I didn't)