#reality based thinking

[tomorrowusa]

Markos Moulitsas Zúniga is the founder and head of Daily Kos – probably the first major liberal blog.

Soon after the Trump assassination attempt, a number of idiotic conspiracy theories sprang up in some fringe left corners of the internet. Markos editorialized about taking a hard line against such conspiracy theories.

At Daily Kos, that means all of us—staff and community members alike—must share only what we know to be true, as reported by credible sources. It also means that we reject false information or unfounded claims. This is a foundational policy for us, and one we have enforced rigorously for decades. Our Rules of the Road forbid spreading misinformation, disinformation, or conspiracy theories. The penalty for sharing conspiracy theories on Daily Kos is clear and serious: You will be banned. Daily Kos has always been and will always be an outpost of the reality-based community.

Being reality-based is a major thing which distinguishes us from MAGA zombies. People on the left who spread zany and unfounded conspiracy theories are intellectually no better than the QAnon Shaman. Many even use wording similar to QAnon wackos.

The Washington Post referred to fringe left conspiracy theories about the shooting as BlueAnon.

They claimed the blood on former president Donald Trump’s ear was from a theatrical gel pack; that the shooting was a “false flag,” perhaps coordinated by the Secret Service in collaboration with the Trump campaign; that the scene of a bloodied Trump raising his fist under an American flag was “#staged.” “When did the Secret Service start allowing the President under duress to tell them ‘to wait’, then stand up to be seen by the crowd fist-pumping?” one user posted on X. “Can you blame me for thinking this is fake?” The shooting threw into overdrive a phenomenon dubbed “BlueAnon” — a play on the right-wing conspiracy theory QAnon — that refers to liberal conspiracy theories online. As more Americans lose trust in mainstream institutions and turn to partisan commentators and influencers for information, experts say they are seeing a big uptick in the manufacture and spread of BlueAnon conspiracy theories, a sign that the communal warping of reality is spreading well beyond the right. “The good-versus-evil paradigm of QAnon has really taken hold of the anti-Trump movement and you’re seeing two sides that feel like they are fighting a battle between good and evil,” said Mike Rothschild, author of “The Storm Is Upon Us: How QAnon Became a Movement, Cult and Conspiracy Theory of Everything.” “It’s coming from major leftist and liberal ‘resistance’ influencers who believe that Trump is so devious that he’d fake his own assassination attempt in order to help his campaign.”

Anybody posting conspiracy theories is an idiot and should be blocked.

Of course I'm NOT referring to satirical references meant to make a point.

For example: Fanatical pro-gun conspiracy nuts claim that victims of mass shootings are really "crisis actors". So taking a dig at those people by referring to Trump as a crisis actor is a way to make such people eat their words.

In his editorial, Markos re-posted this information sheet from NPR's On the Media program on how to treat breaking news – mass shootings in particular. So I'm re-re-posting it.

#6 is underrated. Local journalists know their own turf and are better able to sort out a situation than those who just helicopter in to cover an event and then leave.

Of course #9 is essential. Get confirmation from reputable sources before reposting something. Don't add to the morass of disinformation.

[starry-bi-sky]

What would a mother not do for her child What lengths would a mother not go There's a bond that exists between mother and child With no end to how strong it can grow It's a promise for life between mother and child It begins from the moment of birth.

================

She is six years old, and standing on the porch at her Auntie Alicia’s cabin. She is six years old, and holding an old rifle in her hands, standing at the railing and pointing the nozzle at a large target a couple feet away. There’s a pair of old ear muffs covering her ears. Behind her is her daddy and her sister, and Auntie Alicia. She can’t see them. 

Danielle Martha Fenton is six years old, and her momma has her arms wrapped warmly around her, keeping the gun steady for her. It’s heavy and the butt digs into her shoulder uncomfortably, and she feels nothing but determined. And nervous. 

Her momma was teaching her and Jazzy how to shoot, and they’re down in Arkansas to visit Auntie Alicia for her second “Divorce-iversary” as Auntie calls it. She keeps a hunting rifle in her gun safe for the rabbits that like to nibble on her garden. She mostly grows rhubarb, which goes untouched. But her carrots and greens and other veggies like to be tempting snacks for the game. 

Regardless, she is six years old and learning how to shoot. Her momma and her daddy (mostly her daddy) have been banned from every shooting range outside of Amity Park in a hundred mile radius. So Auntie is the best place to learn, or so momma says. 

Danny thinks it's just an excuse to see her sister, not that she's complaining. She loves visiting Auntie.  

She’s already seen Jazzy do this, her momma told her before the muffs went on to shoot when ready. No use trying to fire when you’re not; you can’t afford to miss when shooting ghosts. 

Danny breathes out steady, just like momma taught her, and quells her trembling little fingers. She focuses down the barrel, and pulls the trigger. 

Immediately, the recoil throws her off, the side of the gun that her cheek was resting on knocks against her skin, harsh enough to bruise if it weren’t for her momma’s steady hands holding onto her. The bang of the gun startles her more than she thought it would, and her heart leaps up and runs a jackrabbit through her chest. 

The gun is carefully slipped out of her hands, and Danny lets it go easily, her cheek smarting in pain and her eyes wide and following up to momma. Momma turns the safety on, and with a gentle hand, pushes against her chest. Danny takes a few steps back, and slips the ear muffs off her head. 

Mommy is smiling big at her, something that Danny can’t help but replicate on her own face as her heart swells. “Did I get it, momma?” She asks, watching as she passes the gun off to Auntie Alicia, who steps over to take it.

“I’m going to go see, sweetie, but I think you did.” Momma coos, before planting both her hands on the porch railing and, in a single leap, vaults over the side and onto the grass. She’s dressed all comfortable for the summer heat, with her hair all tied back and in shorts and a tank top and nice boots. Danny’s ribs swell hopefully, and she stands on her tiptoes to watch her walk over.

“I’ll be hard-pressed to believe if you didn’t, Martha Mae,” Auntie tells her, grinning like a cat, “that was a damn good shot.” 

‘Martha Mae Knight’ was Danny’s granny’s name. Auntie Alicia calls her that because of her middle name — and because, by her words, she has her momma’s weird-shaped eyebrows and piercing blue eyes. The kind that could scare a hawk into singing like a robin. It was Danny’s favorite nickname ever.

Daddy laughs brightly, the sound painful on her ears but twice as nice, and despite the distance, Momma whirls her head around to shoot Auntie a glare; “Language, Alicia. Not around my girls.” She warns. Her accent always comes through when they’re around Auntie. It’s Danny’s favorite thing to listen to. 

“Do you think so, auntie?” Danny says, bright-eyed and ever-optimistic. Auntie Alicia nods fiercely as Momma finally reaches the target and searches for the bullet hole. Daddy then comes up behind her, still laughing, and claps a hand onto her shoulder so hard that it makes her knees hurt.

“Of course she did!” Dad boasts, as bright as the sun and twice as warm. He shakes Danny affectionately, wobbling her on her feet and pulling her straight into his side. She goes so willingly with a burble of giggles. “She’s got the eyes of a Fenton! And our family are darn good shots.”

Auntie eyes him up and down, her smile immediately fading off into a pressed line. “I’m sure you mean she’s got the eyes of a Knight. You couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn at twenty paces, Jack Fenton.” 

Jazzy holds back giggles from where she’s standing by the door, her ear muffs in hand, and Danny watches her Daddy’s dark eyes immediately narrow. Just like Auntie’s, his smile tapers off into a frown. 

Before he can say anything, there’s a cheer from the yard, and they all turn to Momma clapping her hands in delight. 

Danny immediately pricks her ears up, and would’ve darn near rushed over to the railing if it weren’t for her Daddy’s hand on her shoulder. She yells instead, excitement thrumming like a hummingbird against her ribs, “Did I hit it, momma?!” 

Momma beams at her with all the pride in the world, “You sure did, Danny!” And she turns to press her finger against the target, right on the inside red ring of the battered old bag. “Right here, sweet girl!” 

There are cheers from all around, and Danny’s heart bursts inside her lungs with shiny, sunshine glee. She puffs her chest out big, and smiles so wide it hurts the cheek where the gun smacked her. Her Daddy shakes again, squeezing her tight against his side in a hug that Danny happily reciprocates. 

“What’d I tell you, Martha Mae?” Auntie tells with a big wink and a wide grin, the gun still gripped tight in her hands as Momma makes her way back over. “You got a Knight’s eye.” 

When Momma makes it back over the railing, she hugs Danny tight and praises her shot. Danny looks her in the eyes and chases the feeling, and asks to shoot again.

[baldursgate3tempobsessed]

Please let Astarion meet Tav's family and have a younger sibling like 6 be like im gonna marry the prince points at Astarion.

Tav : Sorry, im married to the prince

NO IM GONNA MARRY THE PRINCE

That's so fucking cute kill me. But I just realized AFTER I finished it I read this wrong 😭😭 I read it as "marry" instead of "married" so whoops now it's an asking for your hand in marriage fic.

Also, I'm going to make this a weird little, unofficial, alternate reality, off shoot of this fic to explain away why Astarion can be in the sun without ascending because I am ~lazy~

Quick summary if you didn't read it, Tav serves Selune, gets a blessing for all the good work, and uses it to cure the anti-light issue of the vampirism (but not all of it). It's not a literal extension of that fic but I'm stealing my own plot explanations. That's it! Now here we go:

~

Astarion wasn't nervous per se. He was just... on edge. And the two-week journey it took to get here wasn't helping things, not when it gave him so much time to ruminate in his thoughts. He never expected to be in the position of "meeting the family," let alone in anticipation for asking for someone's hand in marriage.

Astarion wasn't even quite sure how his life got here. He had always fantasized that a life without Cazador would be one of selfish hedonism, not one where he would be legitimately concerned about a damn six year old sibling's first impression of him.

But then you came along, effortlessly shattering all of his grandiose plans with a batt of your eyelashes. Perhaps the entire journey of falling in love was more complicated, but it felt like it was that simple. In hindsight, he never stood a chance against you, but it was hilarious that there was a time he ever thought he did.

All of his prior dreams and fantasies felt like nothing in comparison to just being with you. It had been a year since you both saved the Sword Coast, a beautiful, fantastic year. That had ended with him somehow more in love with you now than when he first confessed. Selune's blessing had certainly helped with that he was sure. He still couldn't quite believe that you would use a god's blessing on him of all people, but gods, was he appreciative. Because being able to walk in the sun again meant that he could live the life he wanted, with no restrictions. He could be the partner you deserved, the kind that a father would happily say yes to when asking for your hand.

Which brought him back to his current dilemma. Perhaps he hadn't seen any of your family members in the time you'd been together, but he had heard plenty. You loved them all to death, especially your little sister. You wrote to them constantly, the mere sight of a letter from your parents enough to put you in a great mood for the rest of the day. He was aware that your mother was supposedly a saint, a fact that your own father had instilled in you often. He knew that they had a wonderful, loving marriage and were both higher ups in the Church of Selune. A fact that Astarion didn't particularly enjoy.

As grateful to the moon goddess as he was, he was aware that you were an expectation to the very normal belief that vampires were bad. And that marrying one was one of the stupidest things you could ever do from an average person's perspective, let alone a Selunite.

Why you hadn't done the smart thing and lied about what he was, Astarion would never know. But he did know that the thought of their rejection over his admittedly sordid history was putting him in a tailspin.

"They're going to love you," You said for the hundredth time, giving his hand a squeeze as you led him up the steps to your childhood home, "You have nothing to worry about sweetheart. I promise."

Astarion highly doubted that, but you were already knocking on the front door before he had a chance to argue. The door instantly slammed open, a beaming child already launching themselves at you before Astarion could process what was happening.

But you were more prepared them he was. You effortlessly caught them in your arms, laughing at their excited shouting, "Titi! You're late!"

So this was the famous Arabeth.

"No, I'm not!" You laughed as you settled her on your hip, "And what happened to my little girl's manners huh? You haven't even introduced yourself yet."

The child glanced over at him, like she was just realizing for the first time that someone else was standing over there. She looked a little shocked at the sight of him, staring at him with wide eyes. Wide enough for Astarion to start to wonder if something was on his face.

He gave her a little wave only for her to bury her face into your shoulder, peeking out at him with her lips pursed. Which was not the best start to the whole making his darling's family actually like him plan.

"Well, as you've probably guessed this is Arabeth. She's just a little shy," You reassured as you stepped inside, muttering a quick invitation inside under your breath. He appreciated that, he didn't need the whole house to be reminded of his... limitations.

"But she'll get over it soon enough," You continued as you called into the house, "Mom? Dad? We're here!"

And just like that they were rushing into the room, acting just as excited as your sister had been. Your mother wasted no time in smothering your face with kisses while your father swept you up into a hug. It was a rather impressive display of coordination, considering how they hadn't managed to knock you and your sister to the floor in the process. Astarion was pretty sure they were both saying something along the lines of We missed you! But it was hard to tell with all of you so tangled up in each other.

It was heartwarming to see, in all honestly. Of course such a loving person would come from an equally loving family, what else would he expect?

Though he certainly hadn't been expecting for your mother to throw her arms around him next. She brought him into a tight hug before looking him up and down, "So you're Astarion huh?"

She turned back to you, grinning ear to ear with her hands set on Astarion's shoulders, "He's so handsome! Selune help us, do you remember the last boy you brought home? He had a nose the length of my arm-"

"And that's enough of that," You said with a strained laugh, pulling your eccentric mother back a few inches, "And we've talked about the impromptu hugs. What happened to asking for permission?"

"Sorry, sorry!" She said with a wave of her hand, "Let me try again. I'm Seliras, and this is my husband-"

"Marcoul," Your father interrupted, putting his hand out for Astarion to shake, "It's been awhile since we've met a boyfriend."

"He's a little more than that," You said with a sigh as everyone exchanged pleasantries.

"We'll be the judge of that," Marcoul said with a sharp but friendly grin, the grip he had on Astarion's hand briefly tightening before he let go, "From what we've heard, you're quite the character aren't you?"

Ah, so the interrogating was starting early then. It was nothing that Astarion hadn't expected. Besides, turning up the charm was his strong suit, even when he was uncharacteristically nervous.

Astarion smiled back at him, "You've heard right. And I'm more than happy to answer any questions you might have."

"Oh gods please don't say that," You groaned, but it was too late. Your parents were already leading him to sit, rapid-fire questions coming out of their mouth.

Where are you from? How did you meet? Are you serious about our Tav? What's your religion? Where's your family? What are your plans?

But Astarion answered them all, with only mild censorship for the child's sake. The child who suddenly couldn't stop staring at him. It wasn't exactly easy to sell himself as a future husband when he was a vampiric ex-slave, but he made do.

It was an overwhelming experience to say the least, but not necessarily an unpleasant one. That was one good thing about trying to marry into a family of zealots, it was a lot easier to convince them of your virtue when you received a personal blessing from their goddess.

By the end of the night, they were all throughly appeased, enough so to get off the topic of him for a moment.

"You look a little young to have a thirty-year old child," Astarion said to your mother. He was actively trying to compliment her for obvious reasons, but he was also genuinely curious. She barely looked a day over 40.

"Oh we breed young," She said with a laugh, "We had Tav in our teenage years. Arabeth came much, much later. Our favorite little surprise. Gods, I can't think of a single person in our family who didn't have kids young. Our little Tav is the only exception to the rule."

"But maybe not for much longer, huh?" Marcoul added with a grin, yelping when you lightly smacked him over the head for the comment.

"Do not start the kid talk again!" You hissed out, cheeks red, "We've talked about this!"

Astarion couldn't help but grin at your reaction, charmed by your embarrassment. Though... the idea of the two of you having children together sure was an interesting thought.

Astarion felt a tug on his sleeve while you were distracted arguing with your parents. He turned, smiling when he saw your little sister standing there, still staring at him with wide-eyes.

She took a deep breath before blurting out, "You look like a prince. Are you?"

"Not exactly," Astarion said with a small laugh. That couldn't be further from the truth, "There's no blue blood in my veins."

She frowned, cocking her head at him like he wasn't making any sense. But then an idea obviously struck her as she excitedly asked, "But if you married a princess, then you'd become a prince too. Right?"

"I suppose?" Astarion answered with a shrug.

"So if I become a princess, and I marry you, then you'll be a prince?"

This conversation was quickly becoming out of his depth. But luckily enough for him you were swooping in to save him.

You laughed at her question, turning your attention back to the two of them, "No offense Bethy, but I'm going to be the one marrying this particular prince."

But Arabeth wasn't having it. She crossed her arms, looking at you like she was the one talking to a child, "You can't. Because if I don't marry him, he won't be a prince. So there. I have to do it."

She looked so serious, her facial expressions incredibly similar to your own. Astarion was holding back a loud laugh as you tried and failed to reason with her, "I can marry him without the royal status-"

"No! I'm marrying the prince!"

Your parents were doing a much worse job at hiding their reactions, both of them opening giggling behind their hands as you came up with a compromise.

"Okay, okay," You said with a sigh, kneeling down to look the small girl in the eye, "How about this? I marry him first. But only until you become a princess. Then he's all yours. Sound fair?"

She thought about it for a moment before nodding to herself, "Sounds fair."

Well Astarion wasn't going to get a better set-up then that. He turned to your father, his nerves coming back for a brief appearance, "I'm assuming now might be a good time to ask what I came here to ask. Though I do promise I only intending on asking for one of your children's hand in marriage."

Marcoul nodded slowly, his face unreadable as he spoke, "I mean no offense when I say this Astarion, but you aren't exactly who I imagined for my daughter."

"Dad don't-"

"Darling, let him finish," Astarion gently interrupted, his eyes still locked with your father's.

He took a deep breathe before continuing, "That said, I've never seen her so... herself with someone else before. So yes. The two of you can marry. On one condition."

"Anything," Astarion said instantly, nearly giddy at the fact that he was so close to the official yes, "Just name it."

"You have to have the wedding here," Seliras answered for him, a massive smile on her face, "No ifs, ands, or buts."

"And I get to be flower girl!" Arabeth chimed in, her past indignation completely forgotten as she climbed all over you, "And there has to be chocolate cake!"

"Oh gods, help us," You groaned, but Astarion was already nodding along. He couldn't give less than two shits where it happened or who was involved. He could scarcely believe that it was happening at all. But that was the last thing he had needed.

He already had the ring, the most amazing person he could ever fathom being with. Who actually wanted him back.

Now all he had to do was ask.

[droodlebug]

i'm constantly getting myself worked up about what the qunari in dragon age could be if the writers weren't racist as shit. in a perfect world that we don't live in, the veilguard comes out and it reveals that everything heard about qunari and the qun were wrong and people are just there living their lives and to stop treating their religion, that is inescapably a parody of islam, like it's a form of control. stop treating them like they're inheritly violent or murderous when like. the grey warden kills a bunch of desperate refugees that attack them at the start of the game. not incapcitate, kill. hawke is constantly killing people like All the Time. it is a joke between the da2 characters in the game. but when the qunari do it it's suddenly wrong? suddenly murder is bad in the context of the world?

when the religion of the maker and the elves gets treated with respect and nooo andrastians aren't forcing their religion on anyone they're just making people see the Truth. but when anyone willingly converts to the qun that means they? are bad people now? when the qunari have a spy that's invasive and scary but when you have your own spymaster that tortures people well that's fine it's just what's necessary. when the circles literally take someone's spirit away by making them tranquil that's horrific but it is what it is, but when the qunari restrict their mages in a very similar way, the only difference being that you can See from the outside what it feels like, then it's an even worse unspeakable horror? even when the mages of the qun are giving to that willingly for the percieved safety of others vs nearly every account of tranquility being forced, somehow the qun version of the same thing is still worse???

that is the way the games themselves through story and mechanics frame it and it's shit because the qunari is very obviously based on a real life religion and real life people that are heavily demonized in real life and it is not fair

[soliusss]

that fucking memetic world eater that I hate

[picspammer]

Now I know that I can't make you stay But where's your heart?

Happy anniversary to Famous Last Words, released on this day in 2007

[imagionationstation]

“Can you listen?”

Raph’s world tilts, the same way it always does when he uses that tone of voice. “What?”

“Can you listen? Just, listen?”

He closes the comic immediately. “If I gotta.”

Mikey enters the room and sits. His head rests against the edge of the bed as Raph puts his feet on the floor. His brother stares at the roof, solemn.

“I think it’s my fault,” His voice doesn’t have the Mikey tint to it. It’s burdened and stiff. He hates it. “That no one likes me.”

Raph’s pinches his arm to stop the impulse to open his mouth.

Mikey’s eyes are distant. He’s faraway, stuck in thoughts that he hardly ever has, in a sluggish moment that makes his movements slow and each word pronounced. “I know I care be weird. And loud. And- and I see them. The looks. From.”

He stops, as if he can’t remember if there was more to that statement. Or maybe he doesn’t want there to be.

Mikey’s supposed to be an open book. And yet, sometimes even he can’t bear to flip his own pages.

“We’re different. I know that. Humans won’t like us. Because we’re... Monsters.” Mutants, he wants to correct, in the same way that he does when Donnie whispers the hateful freak to the mirror.

He digs his fingers into the sheets. Why does he have to watch, time and time again, as it spreads like a plague between them? “And- And not ‘cause we are. We just… It’s just that way for us.”

He looks up. Raph nods, a stiff motion. Not talking. Listening. 

“And I can be different. ‘Cause of my head. And my- my-” He waves vaguely to explain what they both already know. “And it’s not bad. But it can be. Bad. Annoying. And it’s okay. Donnie’s-” Another wave. “It’s not bad. It’s just us. But it’s. For me, it’s like.”

He looks at the ground. “I think. I think if you weren’t my family, I’d be alone.”

Don’t say it- “There’s Leatherhead.” DARN IT- 

“Yeah,” Mikey agrees, soft. Raph exhales, relieved. “Leatherhead’s my best friend.” 

There’s so much defeat. Raph bites his tongue. Mikey mutters, “I don’t know.” 

He waits. Mikey says, “Maybe he shouldn’t be.” 

Raph scoots down to the floor. Mikey doesn’t react. “He’s great. I don’t know what I’d do if he wasn’t. I don’t like thinking about it.”

The lost gaze drifts across the roof. “Sometimes I think I’d be better if I wasn’t me. If I was different. And then I want to change, but then Leo gives me the perfect opportunity for a sneak attack, and then he’s glittery and embarrassed and it’s… Fun. I have fun. But it can also be mean. And make people mad. And I don’t want to change. I don’t want to. But maybe I should.”

He leans on Raph’s shoulder, weighed by defeat. “Raph?”

Raph’s awful at this. He knows that. But he has to say something.

“Don’t know anything about should or shouldn’t. I know you’re my little brother. Don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t. You are. That’s all that matters to me. Which means we’re stuck with each other. You don’t want to change? Don’t.”

He hesitates, scanning his face for any hint that his words are having the right impact on him. “Nobody’s the boss of you but you. World sucks. Humans suck. Some people’ll like you for stupid and some people won’t. Leatherhead’s been around this long. Don’t see him running off any time soon.”

Mikey smiles, briefly. It falls.

Raph follows his gaze to the poster.

He mutters, “Thank, Raphie.”

Raph swallows the bubbling worry and says, “Sure, Mike.” 

They stay there until Mikey gains the strength to retreat to his room.

[mishy-mashy]

Things to note here:

Yoichi took Kudo's hand. Bakugo did not take Izuku's hand, and didn't want to.

Yoichi was willing to be helped and saved. Bakugo was not.

Kudo looks down on Izuku for being an idealistic, foolish boy that wants to save everyone—but Kudo is like that too.

He's idealistic to the point of being crazy, for wanting to save not only his enemy's brother, but to take down the strongest man in the world, and save Japan from being ruled by him.

Kudo can look down on Izuku for believing in, and wanting to help, Bakugo, his childhood bully and someone he should hate.

But Kudo is just like Izuku. Yoichi was someone he should've hated, but he couldn't actually do it, and reached out his hand to help him up.

IZUKU AND KUDO OUTSTRETCH THE SAME HAND

YOICHI'S BODY IS FACING KUDO. BAKUGO IS FACED AWAY, WITH ONLY HIS HEAD TURNED

Yoichi was willing to acknowledge and look at Kudo head on. Bakugo wasn't.

Bakugo was acknowledging his Quirked friends when Midoriya suddenly appeared on the scene. Midoriya wasn't supposed to have been there. Like how Kudo shouldn't have been able to find Yoichi's vault.

Even if Midoriya and Kudo were weak to society (Gearshift is not a strong Quirk then), the level of receptiveness is visible.

Yoichi is weak and has no idea who he is, but gives his attention and fully looks at him.

Bakugo is strong, popular, and knows Midoriya, but doesn't want his help because of that. Because he views Midoriya as below him, but Yoichi never thought that way: rather, Yoichi saw himself as weak.

Izuku and Kudo didn't have to help them. The two just wanted to.

They both wanted to help someone they should've hated.

But they couldn't bring themselves to.

Like Midoriya, Kudo believes in Yoichi's goodness, and doesn't see him for AFO's brother.

Kudo looks at Midoriya and calls him an idealistic, delusional fool. But Kudo is just looking at Midoriya and seeing his past self.

Kudo is idealistic, stubborn, and delusional like Midoriya. He too, believed in the goodness of others he should've hated.

This is why Kudo wants Midoriya to walk down the same path as him: Midoriya will run full-sprint, but he needs to have friends that can match him.

Kudo knows what Midoriya needs and has to do. Because he went through the same thing.

This could also be another reason why he shut up when Midoriya used Gearshift to save All Might. Because Kudo wanted to save Yoichi when it was illogical and would've ruined him, but he did it anyway. Just like Midoriya did.

The fact Izuku and Bakugo are in knee-deep water. Yoichi and Kudo aren't, but they definitely were when Yoichi died.

Izuku thought Bakugo's life was endangered, and asked if he was okay and needed help.

When Yoichi and Kudo are knee-deep, Kudo is holding his hand, and Yoichi's life is endangered. Not just himself, but Kudo.

Y'know what I think about that? Next point. Here you go, bkdk shippers.

Holding hands was them tying / joining their lives together.

Kudo offered that. Midoriya offered that.

Yoichi took it. Bakugo didn't. But he would in the future, when Midoriya offers it again. And when he does, Midoriya embodies Kudo's Quirk into it.

Kudo tries warning of the blowback of Gearshift, but sees Vestige-Might's flickering, and shuts up.

Maybe he was reminded of Yoichi or his comrades. His Quirk was being used to save someone, back when he couldn't do the same as he held someone's hand.

This time, rather than to get away from the danger, it was to approach the danger and save someone in AFO's grasp.

Bakugo = Kudo, Izuku = Yoichi

An idea you'll see around the BNHA fandom about these characters is that.

But instead, the panels flipped the ones holding out their hand. First it was Kudo, then it was Izuku.

If Bakugo held out his hand, Izuku would've taken it. Like how Yoichi took Kudo's.

But if Yoichi and Kudo swapped places and Yoichi held out his hand, Kudo wouldn't have taken it. Because Yoichi was the younger brother of the Demon Lord, and someone Kudo should hate.

If Bakugo took Midoriya's hand, or Yoichi rejected Kudo's, the story would've been much more different.

[butterflysonnets]

yes i'm rooting for m*leven breakup because byler is neat but mostly? i'm rooting for m*leven breakup for the sake of el and mike.

to me, their romance was always a puppy love born out of a combination of social pressures, naïve curiosity, and a lack of true understanding regarding intimacy and romantic love and what it really is. it was real in that they do truly, deeply care about each other and they are close friends, maybe even shared an attraction, but a maturing romance is so much more than that. they've grown up and out of being boyfriend/girlfriend, and that's okay! i think television/film needs to show more often that most of us don't have definite "soulmates" or first childhood loves that we spend our whole lives with. it doesn't mean these relationships meant nothing and didn't impact us, it just means they've run their course and that something else is in the cards, and this is part of life!

i've always felt el was at her best and most confident self when broken up with mike, discovering who she was and what she liked alongside another girl her age instead of just relying on mike for mentorship on how to live in the real world. she deserves more of an opportunity to find herself, her autonomy, and her independence, and to love who she is, and she's made it clear she's felt insecure in the relationship with mike because she isn't being loved and understood the way she wants, needs, and deserves from someone who is her partner.

also, it's okay if mike doesn't love her in "the way he should". he is not obligated to love her romantically and stay in a relationship with her just because she's a girl, because she "needed someone", or because he cares about her a lot. he shouldn't be pressured into a romance if it's not truly coming from his heart. he deserves freedom to find out and honour who he is, too, instead of just staying in his non-functional first relationship — one he got into as a child, essentially — and defining himself that way because it's what's expected when a boy and a girl are close. he loves her in some way, yes, but it's okay if he doesn't feel comfortable or secure being her boyfriend anymore, for whatever reason that is. he's felt insecure too, and that's valid and it matters.

they are their own people and are steadily growing and changing every day. they need time to figure out who those people are, and it's become clear (at least in my opinion) that those people aren't meant to be a couple at this stage.

they deserve freedom. they deserve to grow up and be authentic to themselves and not feel like they need to lie for the sake of a relationship. they deserve to move on from this version of their relationship that isn't making them happy and rekindle the best part of their bond: their strong, beautiful friendship. they don't have to be a couple if it doesn't make them stronger and better and happier people.

i think it would be healthy and wonderful for a show, especially one consumed frequently by young adults, to show a relationship starting, progressing, and ending on good terms in this way. sometimes things don't work out, and that is okay.

[rollaroundincompliments]

Also shout out to the names of the episodes. #1 A Meeting of Misfits, #2 Magma and Mingle

#3 A Place of Knowing.

Because the M words are the fun whimsy side of magic. And this is the episode when magic got fucking real.

[madscientistenthusiast]

Guy guys guys hear me out, which I say as if I do not have a doc open writing this, fic where the Waynes revive the classic old reality TV show "Make it Wayne", a terrible TV show Bruce worked on to throw off suspicion of him being Batman, now much make a reappearance after some sort of event happens that makes them need to bring this back, idk man I've just been watching those goddamn DC Superhero girls clips and giggling bc it's so unbelievably dumb that I love it

[thepersonalwords]

Dreaming pleasantly is spiritual.

Lailah Gifty Akita, Think Great: Be Great!

[ultimateloserboy]

thinking about fluffybird and how tragic is is that theyre never gonna work out cuz they literally live in a land of nonsensical, miserable fiction. they can try all they want to become humanlike or alive, but no matter how close they get they will never truly be real. its an unfortunate reality, but love is a feeling for the sentient—the existing—and thats something theyre simply not. theyre nothing but animals in a petting zoo of felt. they think they know love and hate, but where do their own feelings start and the script they follow end? what part of them is real?

are the glances at each other or the jokes that they share real, or are they scripted events, their interactions written into reality by the hands of many actors and puppeteers?

or on the other hand— is this the real part of them? do they break away from their places to look the other in the face? do they shove away hands and fight their own bones just to meet each others eyes? if this is the case, it’s still just as hopeless. theyre cursed with constant amnesia and fatigue, blurring their thoughts and memories. its hard to fight the world itself as it slams you with narcotics and rots your brain with worms. every time they have the urge to rebel, its forgotten and scrubbed before they can try. and even if they did manage to win this pointless fight, what difference would it make? theyd have nowhere to run together. they still wouldnt be real.

whether their love is genuine or not, scripted or improvised, they are not real people and they have no real lives. its hopeless no matter the situation.

[tealty]

Posting it on its own as well cuz there’s something about Danny being naturally quite creepy in ghost form, just left of human shaped and unhinged about it too

Inspired by this thought by Paenling

[theposhperyton]

All evidence suggests yes

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

saw some speculation on FranklyDear in relation to the audios and i want to toss my two cents in

so all the thing's i've been seeing have been people talking about how they're a couple, but they're not acting like it, so that must be Playfellow's influence making them put distance between each other

but i immediately interpreted it as - they're not there yet. there might be feelings, but they aren't Together. cause in the 14 bug audios, i feel like it's pretty clear that these are snapshots of the neighborhood outside of the show. cameras aren't rolling, there are no influences, it's the neighbors just Existing on their own dime

'cause the conversations are more natural! the characters seem more nuanced! there aren't any sound effects! so if FranklyDear is already established, wouldn't we have "seen" that in their shared audio 8-14? wouldn't Eddie have just called Frank Frank, without the immediate (and somewhat flustered) correction to Mr. Frankly? and wouldn't Frank call him Eddie instead of Mr. Dear? plus, idk about y'all, but that scene was a lil romantically charged. a little flirty - especially from Frank's side. the kind of tension you get from budding emotions, not fully-realized ones

they just seem to be in a before state. the beginning stages. and anyway, i remember Clown saying that revealing FranklyDear as an endgame couple was sort of an Accident? i think we were meant to watch it evolve and figure it out along with the characters, the way we will with any other relationships (that we Definitely are not aware of / confident about yet).

we're still only in the prologue of the story, so it'd make so much sense if Frank and Eddie are not yet Involved. we're on this journey With them