#you guys assign me racist

[carrsuniverse]

You're terf garbage.

Oh my god can you guys settle on what kind of bigot I am you pick a new type every week it's exhausting

[keshetchai]

"Hey, he was definitely talking from the perspective of The West in 1944, which is what the sentence literally says grammatically. He specified this, as the West reacting in 1944 to coin the term genocide based on what those people in 1944 were thinking.

However racialized hatred towards Jews and Romani was not limited to Nazi Germany and was quite literally spread across the West, in part thanks to the popularity of eugenics & racial science, the lasting influence of phrenology, as well as racialized anthropology at the time. None of these things were only limited to the Nazis at that time. In other words, a lot of the West AGREED with Nazi Germany ideas about race and who "looked like us," because explicitly, Jews were NOT considered a part of that "us" which was the Christian West."

I notice you didn't answer my question!

Have you ever been to a Holocaust museum, and if so, how long ago did you go?

If you haven't been at all, or haven't been since highschool age, I am happy to help reimburse you the cost of the admissions ticket (if any), or if admission is free, I will reimburse you the full cost of the parking garage fee provided proof of the museum ticket and parking receipt. Reimbursement can be done via PayPal or ko-fi, your choice.

If you are unsure where a local Holocaust museum to you might be, i am also happy to help you find the nearest one. If you are reasonably close to Washington DC, I'm also happy to make a trip out there myself and go with you to the USHMM so we can learn together.

Let me know!

Well for one thing, you (or the West for that matter) didn’t create the word genocide, it was coined by a Polish-Jewish lawyer named Raphael Lemkin. In his book, the Axis Rule in Occupied Europe he showed his research of the way the Nazi occupied Europe and narrated how he thought the crimes the Nazi committed against the Polish during their occupation came down to 5 main policies that displayed their will to completely destroy the Polish nation which included:

1) The mass killings of Poles

2) Bringing “serious bodily or mental harm to members of the group”,

3) Planned deterioration of living conditions "calculated to bring about their destruction

4) Implementation of various "measures intended to to prevent births within the group" such as promotion of abortions, burdening pregnant women, etc.

5) Forced transfer of Polish children to German families

He used these instances as proof for the Nazi plan to completely terminate the Polish identity and these markers are still used by the Genocide Convention as proof of genocidal intentions. He also used this word to describe the atrocities that Nazi committed against the Jewish people during the Holocaust. Lemkin also spent the rest of his time advocating for an international convention to stop the rise of “future Hitlers”, and on December 9, 1948 the U.N. authorized the Genocide Convention, which had many of its clauses based on Lemkin’s own research and proposals.

Also this is a very narrow idea of racism and discrimination. Anti-semitism was rampant in American and Western society years before Hitler came into power. I mean in 1942, American literally turned away a boat load of Jewish people seeking refuge. People didn’t look at Jews and think “Oh man they look just like us, so their murders must be important and we have to create a word that describes their condition and the crimes being committed against because we care sooooo much about them”. In reality, most people didn’t really given a shit about all of the Jews being murdered, only when America and the West was being directly threatened by war did they retaliate.

So no, the West didn’t coin the word Genocide to describe the atrocities that Nazi Germany inflicted because the victims looked like them or whatever, the word was created by Polish-Jewish lawyer to describe the oppression that his people were put under.

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

Alright, so there's been a lot of chatter about some of the most common racist takes in the fandom lately, and I know most people aren't engaging in good faith but I'm gonna spell some things out anyway. Here's a handy-dandy White Fan's Intro to Racist Fanon 101

Why is it racist to depict Ed as uncontrollably violent?

Because he's not actually depicted that way in the show. OFMD goes out of its way to depict Ed's relationship with violence as complex and intensely traumatic for him. Because he has so many hangups around violence, Ed is one of the least violent characters in a show full of violent characters. He is always shown giving people many chances before they're able to push him into reacting with violence.

Even if you think you're just doing a character study on a guy who is really very complex and nuanced, please take the time to consider if you're assigning more weight to Ed's violent actions than those of other characters or assuming he's worse than he actually is (for example, Ed never physically hurt the crew during his kraken spiral, just Izzy. His crime was being a shitty boss, not going on mindlessly violent rampages).

What do other common fanon depictions of Ed that are racist look like?

The biggest ones are depicting Ed as untidy/messy, as illiterate, and as needing a white man (most often Izzy) to clean up after him. I hope I shouldn't have to spell out why these are racist, but please keep an eye out for them in the fanon you consume so you can be critical of how you respond when they pop up.

Are you saying that all Izzy fans are racist?

Liking a character is morally neutral. Insisting that the viewpoint of an antagonistic character is the lens through which the show should be understood, though, especially when that antagonistic character's whole deal in the first season of the show was trying to control the behavior of the brown lead so he could gain power for himself, however...

Just please consider - why do you find Izzy's tears more deserving of sympathy and compassion than Ed's?

But my hot take/fic/meta doesn't say anything about Ed's skin color!

It doesn't have to. Most of the racist takes/fic/meta out there don't mention Ed's skin color explicitly. Racism doesn't just look like saying "this character is a brown man so he's bad." Everyone who grows up in a racist society (that's everyone on the planet, btw, you included) has biases to unlearn, and those biases impact how you interact with the world around you, including with the media you consume.

The thing is, OFMD isn't a subtle show. It's very consistent with telling us who Ed is, how he responds to situations, and why he behaves the way he does. If you find it easier to throw all that aside in favor of believing what a white antagonistic character tells you about him, then you should really take a bit to examine that.

And here's the most important thing to keep in mind:

This is not about you.

Trust me, it has to be pretty damn bad for fans of color to call out racism in fandom. Every time we do, we know we're gonna harrassment and just some truly awful shit in our inboxes. But you, random white fan who Did A Racism? No one is out to get you. No one thinks you're an awful person for including a racist trope in your stuff, we just wish you'd examine it so we can make this fandom a better place for everyone.

I have had amazing discussions with white fans who saw my posts on fandom racism and wanted a sensitivity read or a check so they could fix an instance where they uncritically included a racist trope. But most people who make similar mistakes will just double down and insist they didn't do anything wrong, and that makes fandom a worse place for all of us.

Fans of color deserve to feel safe and included in this fandom, and we're just tired of feeling like we have to beg to get some circles to see poc as people. You can do your part by being critical of these tropes and your reactions to them when they pop up.

[starcurtain]

What do you think Aventurine would be like as a boss?

Aventurine's first character story tells us that people both outside the IPC and internal to the Strategic Investment Department are explicitly racist toward him, so I would say first that I suspect Aventurine's team is much, much smaller than other Stonehearts like Topaz. For example, we constantly see Topaz's dumb "support squad" following her around in most of the events she shows up in, while we've never been introduced to a single "Aventurine support squad" member.

My suspicion is that, between the rampant racism and the undoubtedly common rumors about Aventurine's dangerous behavior, very few people are even willing to be put on his team in the first place. I suspect he's much more likely to be paired up with one or two "strategic partners" (like Ratio) and sent to handle things that way, rather than actually having a large group of underlings he directly supervises.

But just logistically speaking I'm sure he does have a few underlings, and I think... He's probably a very difficult person to work for, for a couple reasons:

He will almost certainly beat assholes to the punch. If a majority of the people who have been assigned to work with him don't want to be there, you can bet he's not going to wait around for new people to prove they are racist garbage. I imagine that, for the most part, he's off-putting and offensive to new people from the get-go. You ask which desk is yours and he just goes "Oh, feel free to set your things anywhere!" then turns around like: "Wowwww. Jim, this rookie is trying to steal the desk you've had for ten years! How inconsiderate our new friend is proving to be~!" New people on his team probably have the worst few weeks of their lives. (Because... If people are going to hate him on principle alone, he might as well give them a reason, right?) However, this has the effect of weeding out most of the people who are incapable of dealing with Aventurine's antics, so I imagine that the few who persevere through the hazing are probably genuinely decent folks. Those that make it past the initial "Let's see how much you hate Sigonians and disrespect me personally" vibe check probably end up on Aventurine's good side, and I think he eventually eases off his newbies after a while. (Not before they've proven their exceedingly high tolerance for shenanigans and even higher ceiling for shock factor, though. If a new employee makes it past the first month of working for Aventurine, literally nothing else will ever phase them. An elephant-sized Warp Trotter could warp them all six galaxies over and they'd just be like "Anyone got a working cell? I need to tell my babysitter I won't be back by 9.")

I think he's just never there. Absentee boss in the extreme. It's not that he ever slacks or doesn't do the work--it's just that he's constantly going off and doing the missions all on his own. It doesn't matter how many times the higher-ups assign him to do a team task, tell him he has to take the full squad... He just scampers off and does the deal entirely on his own, comes back covered in blood, and is like "Hey guys, I took care of the problem; enjoy some comp time on me!" I don't think he drags his average-level underlings into his dangerous gambles; I think he just does all the work with their clients by himself or with a high-caliber partner. You would think this would make him a great boss to work for, but I implore to put yourself in such an employee's shoes: You go into the office every morning only to see your to-do list is empty. Your boss isn't there to give you any new direction. After twiddling your thumbs for four hours, you find out the reason he isn't in the office this morning is that he's recovering from betting he could take an entire pack of Borisin in a fist fight. He's not in the hospital because of the fight (which he won). He's in the hospital because he was then promptly shot in the back by the guy he was betting with. Why is your life like this? Why must you be subjected to the soap opera of your boss's own self-destructive spiral?

Even when he's around, he's probably weirdly awkward. Don't get me wrong, I bet when he's in a good mood he throws all kinds of extravagant parties in the office, and his employees would never lack for bonuses and perks. But I think he has never really bothered to learn--or perhaps simply does not care--about normal managerial behaviors and boundaries. Like, you slip up and tell him your mother-in-law is in the hospital. He comes back five minutes later to tell you he's just bought six bouquets (sent from your address), commissioned a personally embossed card for her with your monogram, and contracted the services of the best-reviewed individualized medical team in Pier Point under your name. He's patting himself on the back for being an incredibly thoughtful boss. You don't know how to tell him that you haven't spoken to your mother-in-law in years, not since her last attempt to poison you. Every six months he buys the whole team new cars. You have no idea what to do with all these cars. It's too many cars. Put some cars back. He calls everyone his "friend," but even after working for him for years, you still have absolutely no idea about his likes, dislikes, or hobbies outside of the IPC. You could not name his favorite food if someone put a gun to your head. Does he exist outside of the workplace? You literally can't imagine him anywhere but on a mission or at a poker table. He's constantly bringing an "I am the party!" vibe to the room, but everyone else is a bored 8-5 worker who doesn't have a drop of enthusiasm left in their veins. It's like when a singer asks the audience to cheer along with a song, but nobody in the audience makes a peep. Absolutely no one in the IPC cubicles can match his particular freak. Aventurine's a smooth-talker and a street-smart cookie for sure, but something about the way his smile looks like it's made out of plastic when anyone tries to engage him in chitchat at the water cooler gives you the vague impression that he's probably never had an actual friend in his life. If "uncanny valley" was a vibe a workplace could have, Aventurine's office would have it.

Long story longer, I think Aventurine has very few people willing to tolerate him as a boss, whether because they are racist or simply because his quirks are just too quirky. However, I like to imagine the few who have hung in there are ride or die. You know they have an "Aventurine Protection Squad" group chat. They probably all wear peacock-teal and gold accessories in solidarity. They have definitely disappeared people for talking shit on their boss before. Aventurine has no idea how much they actually like him.

[norman-fucking-reedus]

GUYS Im sorry requests are taking so long I suffer from not being able to focus on one thing at a time syndrome and I’ve been going back and fourth between three fics trying to see which one is gonna be the lucky one and get finished first

In order to keep all you little babes in my phone happy and fed here’s my brainrot of virgin Daryl who just so eager to fuck you he can’t get out his clothes :3

ALSO 100 OF YOU HOTTIES FOLLOW ME SO CONSIDER THIS A THANK YOU GIFT UNTIL I CAN CRAWL DOWN YOUR CHIMNEY AND KISS YOU

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

The Dixon brothers were interesting to say the least.

Merle, the oldest of the two, was a certified asshole. He had easily made himself the most hated among everyone, making inappropriate and sometimes racist jokes at ever turn he got, getting defensive when someone actually got offended. He’d just yell in their face that they needed to toughen up before storming off.

Everyone did their best to steer clear of him, only ever talking to him whenever he was assigned to go on runs, even then he would still find a way to make someone uncomfortable.

Daryl, the younger brother, was beyond tolerable. Although Merle believed that both him and his brother were disliked, the group secretly favored Daryl, you especially.

While he did have his fair share of aggressive outbursts, unlike his brother, he’d hang his head in shame afterwards, mumbling out a short but genuine apology. On the one occasion he had snapped at Lori, bringing her to tears due to pregnancy hormones, you remember the horrified expression that washed over his face as she jogged away, tears rushing down her face. Merle only added fuel to the fire by laughing about how no woman wanted Daryl, the way he laughed about it made you sick.

You felt like you could see right through Daryl, underneath all the rough defense walls he had built, rested a soft and damaged heart. He had so much love to give but none to receive, which is why you were currently being groped and grinded against, Daryl breathing heavily as he sucked at your exposed skin.

He felt so dizzy against your warm and inviting body, curious hands grabbing and squeezing your flesh. Even though he tried to make it seem like he knew exactly what he was doing, he become a complete stuttering mess as soon as you took your shirt off, seductively grabbing your boobs before stuffing his face down inbetween them, a hard moan pulling itself from his throat as his entire body shook, cock throbbing as he blissfully came in his pants. “Fuck, m’sorry, m’real sorry-“ You brought a finger to his lips before placing a kiss to them, smirking slightly as he eagerly kissed back, mouth moving against yours sloppily.

There was so much happening at once as you moved to lay on the floor of the tent. Daryl’s whole body was stimulated, and he was craving more. “Wanna fuck ya- Please, let me fuck ya mommy, want ya ta be m’first time” His blue eyes were low and glassy, lips glossy with spit as he stared at you, humping your leg. You wiggled your pants down, getting them to your knees before Daryl ducked his head down between your legs, trapping himself as your pants rested at the base of his neck. His hand fumbled nervously with his belt and pants, whining as he shoved his underwear down, cock springing out.

You couldn’t help but stare at how fucked out he already looked, hovering above you on all four and begging to fuck you, begging for you to take his virginity. His cock was roughly 8 inches, thick pubes at the base and deliciously angry red tip. You pulled him closer to you by the front of his tattered shirt, whispering into his ear. “Gonna split me open on your cock? Come on, just push it in- fuck! Just like that. Good boy” His breathing had picked up, pupils so wide there wasn’t even any blue in them. The feeling of you wrapped around him was a sensation that was pulsating through his whole body, hips immediately thrusting in and out with no particular rhythm. His cock was still sensitive from his first orgasm, and each time that his engorged tip bumped your insides it sent sparks to his gut. He tucked his red face in your throat, kissing, licking, and marking the skin.

Daryl thought his heart would pound right out his chest as your fingers ran through his hair and pulled his face back, eyes locking onto yours. “You’re making me feel so incredible, handsome. Wanna cum inside me?” Daryl turned all the more red at the name and question, feverishly nodding his head as his hips increased their sloppy pace, only needing a few more thrusts before his face was back at your throat, tears welding up as he choked out his pleasured moans and whimpers, hips erraticly moving as he came, accidentally slipping out and cumming on your swollen cunt, more of him already starting to leak out.

He panted heavily against you as you stroked his hair, kissing his forehead as he slowly came down from his high.

Once he completely came down, panic had set in. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! M’sorry I-I’ll get somethin’ ta clean ya up with” He lifted your legs off his shoulders, looking around the tent for something. He snatched up the nearest shirt, makin sure it wasn’t yours before gingerly wiping his mess off you, helping you to put your pants back on and he looked around once again, handing you your shirt when he found it.

You shuffled close to his face, latching onto his neck as you stuffed him back inside his underwear, pulling away once his pants were redone. “I hope mommy made your first time memorable” You giggled and shuffled out the tent, leaving a flustered Daryl inside as the events continued to replay in his mind. Based on the hickies you had left on his neck, he was sure that he’d get to feel you again real soon.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★

[therealslimshakespeare]

| Ida’s Law

Introductory Part

Summary: The American War Effort had conceded to the enlisting and commissioning of women into the Air Force at semi-integrated status. Deemed a more reliable if not safer combat post, the going rank of officer in the Air Force was intended to secure fair treatment and combatant status for these women, as it had for their male counterparts. Like most things in war -or life, if one is a woman- such recognition must be fought for.

Warnings: disturbing content- if you made it through last one this one should be a breeze, however it picks up where we left off so expect mentions of war, wounds, illusions to past rapes, Nazis being racist fucks, possibly some internalized misogyny about it all and some hopefully very 🥹🤧 reunions

A Note Going Forward: With this part now published, I am happy to open this series up for prompts. Ideally I’d like this series to end up being exclusively prompt-inspired and will be putting out prompt lists accordingly. I think that will be a fun way to keep the interaction going, stretch my own skills and explore all the different scenarios that may intrigue y’all. You’re welcome to come up with your own prompts, too. All are welcome, none guaranteed but let’s be real -I’m obsessed with this AU so I’ll likely do it. For now I’ll be keeping all writing to POW Camp and Liberation and Post-Liberation timelines.

“Well, what do we know?” Ida Brady asked the first officer out on the other side as they began to filter through the laborious processing of the camp. She counted them down, one familiar face after another appearing through the doorway again with no worse indignity than the new identification tags hanging from their necks.

“I hate a guy named Johann, and I like a guy named Fritz, and the lieutenant guy wasn’t bad.” Maureen declared, straightening her precious cap atop muddy auburn tresses. “Who went and named their son Fritz after the last war? I mean really? Who does that to a kid? It’s like he’s making up for it now, though, awfully nice.”

“Mm, I thought so, too.” Ida hummed, “Might keep an eye on that one, work on him a bit. You think, Kendeigh?”

“Work on him yourself, Ida.” Maureen scoffed.

“Not much to work with.” Ida retorted, the first general reference to her disfigurement she’d made. “What do you know? What’s up?” she left off to inquire after Tallulah Smith who came out the other side of processing looking more than exasperated.

“Know? They don’t know squat.” she said, “Never heard of a Cherokee.”

“I’ll be.” Maureen was grinning sharply. “Wasn't enough being a woman for ya Smith, ya had to go and be a brown one.”

“You’re tellin’ me.” She griped, “They kept insisting I was a fighter pilot. That’s what all the ‘dark ones’ are, according to them. Told them I’d rewire their insides and maybe then they’d take my engineering degree seriously.”

“I’d like to see that.” Maureen murmured, drowsiness beginning to take over at the comparative calm of their new surroundings.

“Looks like we got everyone, yeah?” Ida peered over the heads of the crowing room and counted out her charges in a silent tally.

“Looks like.” Smith agreed. “Got billet assignments?”

“I do. Colonel Clark, most senior prisoner here, said the combines are strict but the rooms aren’t. Let’s try to behave until we feel our way, then we can swap, if they allow.”

“It’s going to smell like feet no matter where and who we share it with.” Smith pointed out and Ida heaved a great sigh as if that were the hardest prospect she’d yet encountered.

“Mm.”

“Buck is out there!” Maureen suddenly cried out, grabbing at Ida’s arm, pointing out the window at the muddy yard.

“How nice. Gotta get this sorted first, eyes in, Kendeigh.”

Maureen reluctantly tore her eyes away from her dearly missed pilot. “Yes sir.”

“All right,” Ida’s voice carried as well as it ever had, commanding immediate quiet and attention, “those in the 350th, 419th, -the hundredth!- on me. Gather ‘round. That’s it, come on. Alright, well, we made it, well done. Truly, well done to all of you. Now I know you well enough to not accuse any of you of being pure idiots, just because we made it to where we wanted to go doesn’t mean any of what’s ahead is going to be easy. Be wary, don’t let your guard down, you don’t know plenty of these men and they don’t know you, I’m sure there are measures in place for spying already. Be sensible. I am certain we can rely on the kindness of those in the hundredth, but even then keep in mind, if you are cold, they are too, if you're hungry, you best believe they are hungrier, the last thing we need is a crisis of chivalry in here. Rely on them, except their help, but don’t ever take from them. Understood? And one more thing, since the human spirit is irrepressible I feel it’s warranted to make one more housekeeping note. None, and I do mean none, no inner relations at all are allowed. I don’t care how cold you are, how sweet he’s been, or how much you’ve missed him. The Red Cross aren’t sending rubbers, and don’t ever take the promise of a pull out. Do you want a one-way ticket to a death camp or a bullet to the head? Get pregnant. Simple as that. You think the Jerries think poorly of you now for being female? Try being a matron. The point is to blend in as much as possible, keep that in mind. Whatever you do, keep that in mind. Understood?”

“Yes sir!”

“Colonel?” One voice demurred, raised hand and respectful title only forerunners for an obvious objection incoming.

“Yes? Sanchez, isn’t it? You’re not one of mine, I think.”

“No, sir, 55th -fighters.”

“Yes, well, welcome. What’s your question?”

“No offense sir but- what about the guards?” Sanchez asked.

“We don’t know yet,” Brady replied with typical candor, “I believe so far we’ve seen a mix here. I’m sure our friends can give us tips on who to watch out for.”

“No sir, sorry I meant-“ Sanchez kept her teeth clenched until her thoughts seemed to form better, “-you said no relations. What about the guards? No disrespect meant colonel and I don’t know about yours, but mine -they weren’t pulling out.”

“Mm.” Maureen thought that if Ida smashed her lips together any tighter they’d turn whiter than her skin, the bent aviators she had managed to preserve this entire time did a remarkable job of masking whatever feeling was stiffening her spine to the current degree, but all the same, her spine was stiff, “no offense taken, an excellent point. I’ll inquire about any possible…remedies. Anyone else?”

A multitude of hands shot up and Ida Brady scanned them with bewilderment until she realized her lapse in specificity. “Anyone else with questions, I meant! Saints alive. No? Good, let’s claim our bunks and see about a wash.”

After the dark interior of the building, being processed for hours, the hazy late afternoon light of outside glared painfully against Ida’s bloodshot eyes as she stepped out, leading the way down the three wooden steps to the muddy yard. Monochrome, this place, brown wooden buildings and brown earth and a muddy sky and brown flight jackets one after another.

And there in the midst of it, waiting for them with ever constant patience and thinned stateliness was Gale Cleven and his lost blue eyes and an alarmingly symmetrical set of facial scars.

“Major.” Ida felt her face soften into an odd expression she realized was likely that of relief. Cleven had that way about him, it was better suited to her preferences than Egan’s blustering warm hearted concern, Colonel Harding’s gruff joviality or her John’s perpetually intense concern. Her little brother was, oddly, nowhere to be seen now and that was a comfort in this wide open, highly observed space.

“Colonel.” Gale Cleven’s eyes weren’t a lost blue anymore but a pair of stormy seas and Ida steeled herself for pity. She found smoldering rage in his face instead. Another relief.

“How was it?” he was nodding to the command hut.

“Fine.” she assured.

He was searching for something in her face and Ida was sure it was easily found skin deep along her puffy, purpled left cheek, but if she had anything to do with her expression alone, he’d be kept guessing for ages. “Good.” he decided at last but his smile was tight, “Made John wait in the combine, he’s in there pacing like a madman. They make a note of who’s attached to whom, Colonel,” he explained, “a more discreet reunion seemed in order.”

“We’d appreciate all the direction you—“ Ida had begun but was cut short by Lt. Kendeigh who broke ranks from the processed group and came out of the hut behind Ida like a bat out of hell, running up to Cleven and tackling him in a hug, rather like a dog with their long lost master.

The Major’s lanky frame staggered under her surprise attack, perhaps more from shock and ill preparedness than poor rations and a weakened constitution. Or at least Ida, hoped that was the case.

Well, there went all intentions for discretion about partiality on their part, five seconds had gone by and Maureen still hadn’t let go, her valued cap about ready to knock off her head and his too. Seeing the gig was up, Cleven even belatedly brought an arm up to hug her shoulders, his pleased face bashfully pacifying her intensity. “If it isn’t my favorite bombardier.” Cleven mumbled, his lips failing not to tug upwards in the tiniest of smiles, and he gave her a pat on the back.

“Buck!” Smith was coming in hot behind Kendeigh and knocked Ida’s shoulder in her haste to get around her and join in. “Thank Jesus you’re here.” she grunted as she squeezed him and Kendeigh both, “I mean -we’re sorry you’re here but since we’re here-“

“Glad you’re here, too, Smith.” he assured her gently, another pat on another back and Ida watched Cleven’s composure began to flake as he took stock of their roughened appearances. “It’s gonna be ok now.” he offered, and coming from someone else that statement would’ve sounded a great deal less impressive than it did coming from him. It also sounded hollow without Bucky’s typical parroting of the upbeat sentiment. “Let’s get you girls sorted.” he nodded at Ida who fell in alongside him, if only to distance and displace Kendeigh and her over familiarity just a tad.

“What’s your Kommandant like?” Ida asked by way of conversation as Gale directed them in a trudge along the brown paths towards his specified hut.

“Think I know him as well as you.” Gale admitted, “Tried to stay low, been no reason for socializing. Wouldn’t advise a trip to the camp doctor though.” He added the last part after a beat.

“Why?”

“Your Johnny says he’s got an experimental mind.” Gale smiled wryly but there was a grieved look behind it that made Ida’s pulse pound in alarm, “If you go in with a cold, you might come out with a radioactive arm instead.”

“Noted.” Ida muttured with a shiver, wishing to god her jacket hadn’t been taken off her a couple stops ago, the sun was waning in the dull sky and the breeze was frigid without it. “Speaking of doctors,” she decided to go for it, “is Johnny -my John- is he alright? At the gate it was such a racket, was he…standing?”

Gale paused in his step up into the combine, brows knitted in surprise and she noticed along with him that their little march had drawn quite a little audience from the fellow inmates. Females in a Stalag -what a novelty. “Yeah, John’s fine. He’s fit.” Gale still had that quizzical look on his face.

Ida swallowed hard and gave him another curt nod, one she wanted to come across as grateful but wasn’t sure it did, her battered cheek was responding less and less to her mind’s commands. “Right. This us?”

“Yeah. Figured we’d try to keep as many close as possible.” He explained, “Welcome to paradise.”

“What did y’all name this shack?” Maureen asked him as she stepped over the threshold, it was dark inside and smelled of lumber and smoke.

“We haven’t.” Gale admitted, forlorn at the realization that things like that didn’t occur to people like him. If Bucky had been here, he’d have had it named in an hour, and something awful, too. Something that would make them all laugh.

“Damn oversight, Gingerale.” Maureen teased merrily but Cleven noticed the dimming light in her eyes as she took in the cramped, uninspired utility of the place. One wooden doorway after another.

“Talked it over with Colonel Clark during your processing,” Gale said, “decided it were best if we mingle you all among the men we know. Boys from your squadrons, friendly faces. A few of you in each room.”

“I call dibs on yours.” Maureen unabashedly grinned up at Cleven but Ida saw how a heartbroken look of protectiveness skittered across his features.

“Alright.” he muttered without a fight for once.

“Mm, Smith, Sanchez, Tong, you in here.” Ida decided and having snapped her fingers she was moving on to the next stuffy room. Asking Cleven at each about their current occupants, and with the precision of memory required of a woman who had to memorize her opponents on the promotional ladder, chose their new bunk mates accordingly.

“And where’s Johnny bunked?” she asked him in a low tone as she watched the next set settle in from the doorway.

“In with me, further down the hall, Demarco, Hambone, a few others.”

Ida seemed to hesitate as she eyed up an extra bunk in the current room that the last of her girls were settling into.

“Don’t be a stick, colonel,” Maureen spoke up gently, a surprising liberty even for her, “you need friends right now. Bunk with us. Everyone’s going to be fine. Can’t be all places at all times, ya know?”

Ida didn’t reply but after a moment she admitted, “I should go see John.”

Gale and Maureen exchanged a look and then moved in unison to catch up to her as Ida Brady walked, brisk as if she were back home at Thorpe and about to pick a fight with Jack Kidd, down the long hall to one of the last rooms. “In here?” she asked Gale, pointing at the closed door -they liked to keep it so for warmth and privacy, and to acclimate the guards to it being closed when the radio was out.

“Yeah that’s us.” Cleven replied, reaching out and snagging Maureen back a step as Ida turned the handle. “Let’s give ‘em a minute.” he suggested, referring to the Bradys.

He held her jacket sleeve for a brief moment before turning it to grab her hand, he’d missed those hands. To his horror their usual calloused elegance was a swollen paw of bruises. “The hell, Maureen?” he whispered in shock, turning it over to examine it, grip strong around her wrist before she could pull away. “Who did this?”

Maureen did her best to shrug, “Some bitch stood on them.” she said simply, and surrendered the other hand for a similar heartbroken inspection.

Kendeigh was indeed not as visibly marred as Ida Brady or a few of the others, but still, Gale kept turning her crushed hands over and over, recalling with vivid agony the way he’d admired them at all manner of work before. To hurt them that way, to restrain her so meanly- “Maureen,” she’d never heard his voice dip so low, and his eyes were simmering where they cataloged her hurts, “what’d they do to you?”

“What’d they do to your face?” she shot back, perhaps more perturbed by the immaculately symmetrical scars on his once porcelain face than her own condition. Women expected the treatment they’d gotten, in some twisted way, but this on the other hand, it disturbed her.

Gale looked taken aback by her question and quickly dropped her hand to touch his right cheek as if to remind himself the scar was obvious to everyone. “Flak.” he replied a beat too late.

“Awfully precise.” she snarked.

“I asked you first.”

“I told you, a bitch stood on them.”

“I’m your superior officer.”

“Who it looks like someone had some fun with,” Maureen snapped back, “who did this?”

“What happened to you?” He hit right back but his voice quavered.

“I’m fine now. I wanna go see the boys. Come on.”

“Just- give them another minute.” Gale insisted, pulling her back away from the doorway again, “It’s a lot.” He reminded, “For a brother to see his sister like -that.”

Maureen couldn’t argue with that, besides Gale looked so sad and more fragile than she’d ever seen him, and the gentle hold he had on her jacket was as needy and scared as a child’s. “I’m glad we’re in this together.” she whispered.

“Me too.” he admitted, guilty and sad over how true that was before letting her press her lips to his.

Ida Brady didn’t know what she expected when she opened the door, not much she supposed, just a living brother with any luck. It was a decently tidy room, plates stacked on a rough hewn board at the far end, eight bunks lining the walls, stacked three tall. A table was in the middle and there sat dear old Crank and Hambone too, Murph with Benny. A card game was ongoing.

They looked so fine, quite normal, all in all.

All motion in the small room stopped upon her entrance. Cards were dropped and cigarettes forgotten in open mouthed shock.

“Holy shit -colonel?” Demarco didn’t have a dishonest bone in his body, and his disbelieving horror over her appearance came through loud and clear in his greeting. She hadn’t seen him at the gate.

The same for Hambone’s face, one that had never bothered to be discreet in pleasant circumstances, much less in shocking ones like seeing a notorious superior officer come in looking about as battered as a body could get -although his torn cheek was one to talk. Crank recovered first, in his mild, stammering sort of way, glancing at the lean figure who still stood looking out the lone window.

“Well, if it isn’t Ain’t Pretty Brady.” Crank clapped uneasily, summoning her nickname from basic just to cut the tension, it served to startle John.

He turned from the window abruptly, blank faced and unblinking as he realized the sister he had been watching for had already arrived. If their ole nan from the motherland had suddenly materialized before him he could have hardly looked more haunted or aghast, wide fringed fox eyes and that straight fold of a mouth -always so very held together, her little brother. Even after his third belly landing.

But those startled unblinking eyes...

Ida wanted to tell him to blink, that it was all alright now, that they were both alive and that it was good enough, it had to be. But she seemed to have fully lost all power over her throbbing cheek at last, she could feel her lips move in a motion she realized with supreme panic was likely a wobble of emotion. She ripped her aviators off, as if seeing her eyes might help his to come alive.

“John John?” she croaked in greeting, oblivious of the childish endearment tumbling off her lips in a room full of soldiers. If it were something their family was in the habit of doing, Ida Brady might have rushed him like Maureen did her pilot, or held out her own hand to be held, asked for a gesture from him -after what she’d gone through, surely it couldn’t have been weakness to want a clap on the shoulder, a flick to the bicep, a little “well done” for staying alive.

But she just stood there and watched him clock her shame. She could feel her swollen lip splitting in real time as the swelling and incessant trembling tore the taut skin apart, they’d passed around a single canteen in processing and it wasn’t enough, the walls of her throat felt collapsed together. Maybe she should have asked for a mirror first, maybe Cleven or Kendeigh or Smith should have told her she’d bring a whole room to a frozen standstill by her looks alone. They’d seen her at the gate -were these meager lightbulbs really so much more illuminating?

“Eye-eye.” Johnny let it out in a breathy rush as if he’d suddenly come to, and then he was in front of her, hands cradling the sides of her neck, thumbs hooked gently under her bruised jaw. A calloused pad swiped away the ticklish trickle of blood sliding the crease of her mouth.

Eye eye -his onetime baby babble for Ida, and she’d never let him forget it.

She could have wept at the useless sentimentality of it, of the gentle familiarity of familial hands, at the seething loyalty storming across his face.

“The fuck did they do?” he articulated at last, voice gravelly as shit but also reminiscent of the squeaky olden days when his castrato role suddenly no longer served one Sunday in choir.

“You’ve got legs.” she answered instead, sounding maniacal in her happiness.

He looked at her like she’d gone fully crazy as well as beat, “Yeah? Yeah I do.”

“They said, they said you didn’t.” she chuckled, a bizarre merriment trying to take hold in her relief, “During interrogation, that bespectacled cunt told me you had your legs crushed when you crashed.”

“No? No- no I jumped.” He insisted, then let go of her face to step back and gesture to two fit legs, as long and lanky as she remembered, as long and lanky as her own. “I jumped, I’m fine. They told you that?”

“Yeah.” Ida said, “Told me the longer I didn’t comply the longer you were without medical attention. I -I’ve been so…uneasy…about you.”

“I’m fine.” He repeated, hands back on her shoulders and she was grateful for it despite the bruises he was gripping, grateful for the way he kept touching her like he was going to hold her together with his own two hands, same blood, same flesh, same memories, maybe whatever she’d lost he could supply back like a blood donation. “Those sons of bitches.” he cursed them.

“Plasma for planes.” she agreed.

He kept looking at her, at her cheek and at her ragged hair and at the missing buttons, “You didn’t tell them anything did you?” he suddenly asked, wide eyed. “You know i’d rather die than have you tell.”

Ida scoffed, and gave him a grin, the best one she could manage with her cheek and split lip, “What do you take me for, Johnny?”

“A cold hearted bitch, I hope.” he returned the small smile but his voice cracked, still that hint of something long gone and juvenile.

“That’s what their Lieutenant called me.” Ida confirmed, a little proud, and sensing a renewal of his inquiries, Ida chose to take the offensive and call out for a conspicuously absent Kendeigh, “Candy! Didn’t you want to tell Johnny about your charming admirer? The Lieutenant?”

Kendeigh came round the doorway hastily, her lips puffy and cheeks oddly red. Cleven followed after and matched her, and his blush did nothing but highlight those scars of his. “Brady.” Maureen greeted, boldly hugging Ida’s very stiff brother without care —due to his red cheeks and rigid shoulders Ida concluded Cleven had given his own inner-relations talk to the men—, “Yes, I wanted to -oh hello Crank, Benny you son of gun- wanted to tell y'all about my ticket outta here -hell Hambone, how’d you manage to get uglier? -see my integrator, he found me fairly fetching. I think one of these days he’s gonna roll up in his shiny car and take me away from here and you’re all gonna wish you’d taken time to learn a little know-how about Alligators and their hibernation tactics in the winter. He was enthralled.”

There was an awkward silence hanging in the room, Crank grimaced a smile out of sheer generosity of heart and Benny Demarco still sat with his cigarette neglected on his open lip. Cleven, used to her preening brazness kept a tight lip, though a thousand questions seemed to swirl in his eyes.

“He the one who stood on your hands?” John Brady asked her without hesitancy.

Maureen whirled round then, comedy hour over and an angry flush creeping up her neck at his directness. “No.” she snapped. “Can’t some of them be alright?”

“A German’s a German.” he countered.

“There’s Fitzs and then there’s Johanns.” she disagreed nebulously and only Ida got her reference.

“And a shower is a shower,” Ida butted in before this became an experiment in an immovable object meeting an unstoppable force “which we need, badly. We’re…filthy.”

“We’ve got working sinks, trough sinks.” Cleven clarified with an apologetic look as if it were his fault the showers only ran once a week and poorly at that, and the water they had was frigid already in autumn.

“Water is water.” Ida reasoned in return, wondering when Johnny was going to finally let go of her arm.

“We’ll clear it out for ya.” Cleven said.

“And we’ll guard the entrance.” John added emphatically.

“Thanks.” Ida muttured, “Some of us could use to mend our uniforms.” she added, refusing to blanch at the subtle inventory of her jagged tears and crusted blood being made by every man in the room.

Maureen at least had her jacket intact. Her cap, too.

“Here, you can have my trousers while I stitch yours.” her John decided and was unbuckling his belt before she even registered the hand gone from her shoulder.

“What?” Ida balked, “You’re going to go ‘round in your skivvies?”

“Not as uncommon around here as you’d think, Ida.” Gale said, a small smile on his face. “I’m afraid order and decorum has gone to shit without you.”

“Well I’m here now.” she replied sternly but didn’t stop Johnny as he stripped.

“And so am I.” Kendeigh grinned and all Ida could do was to bless the saints for having let only one terror into the camp, were Bucky Egan to be here too, things would become intolerably lax. As soon as she thought it she repented it, sending up a prayer for the poor, absent bastard.

“Say Benny, you’re shorter, can I have your pants?” Maureen pleaded.

“Why mine?” Demarco protested, only offended at the height implication.

“Because Cleven’s too tall and I’ve already been in his pants.”

“Maureen!”

“Ida, order somebody to give me their pants.”

“You can have mine.” Crank offered kindly, and then stood up and bashfully began to unlayer. It left him in skivvies, a snuggly sweater and his flight jacket.

“It’s a good look, Crank,” Maureen grinned at the finished product as he handed the trousers over. “I’m seeing you in a different light.”

“Maureen!”

“Just sayin-“

“Take the pants with you to the washroom!” Brady interjected desperately as Maureen looked ready to strip right here and now. “Jesus, Kendeigh.”

“Touchy, touchy.” Maureen ribbed him, out for blood in her tired state and if she couldn’t have that of the Germans she would of her friends’.

“Alright let’s - let’s settle down.” Gale implored, a tired expression firmly etched onto his face and Ida herself considered giving up on the wash altogether and tumbling into the available bunk to court the oblivion of sleep. Were it only blood and dirt she just might, her usual tidiness be damned.

As it was -it was, there was…the filth was so much worse.

And if Ida thought on it too long she’d go mad and want to pour boiling lye on herself to wash herself clean and to kill the shame of it. She’d have to scrub the pants before she gave them to Johnny to be mended, it was bad enough for a brother to see the blood and busted seams.

“Yes, settle down for God’s sake.” she echoed Cleven, and something about her hoarse voice compelled Maureen to temper herself more than any direct order could. “A wash, come on, let’s get the girls. Oh and one more thing, Cleven-“ Ida turned to Gale and found him alert, eager to help. She was afraid she was only setting him up for failure but she had to make an effort to find those “remedies” she’d promised Sanchez. “There any lemons around?”

The incredulous look on his face suggested he thought she knew better, but he was ever polite in his reply, “No, colonel. No lemons.”

“Mm. Nutmeg?” she tried to recall each wicked trick she’d heard condemned when a girl got herself in the family way without the needed family in place.

“No, no nutmeg.”

“Mm.”

“Nothing but potatoes and cigarettes, ma’am. Do you- why?” he asked.

“Nothing.” she assured, “Just, a hot toddy sounds good right about now. You know?”

“Uh,” he floundered, half in suspicion and half in genuine confusion, “never had one.”

“Well then,” she grinned as she passed him, “that’s something to add to our to-do list for when this is all over. Jameson, though, none of that Kentucky stuff.”

“Yes ma’am.” his tone was vacant, smiling concern brittle, “You uh, you alright, Colonel?”

Ida gave him a withering look and then Gale too, had cause to be repentant.

“Come on Kendeigh, let's get the rest.” Ida gestured as she followed Gale back into the hall, aware of Johnny’s eyes still on her, still taking stock, “They better not be in bunks without a wash. Come on, showers, everyone! Out, come on out. You can sleep afterwards. Out! Would one of you be so kind as to wake us up in time for roll call?” she inquired of the male officers straggling behind her in the hall.

“Course! Yeah, for sure.” about five offers went up.

“You wake Me up.” she clarified coming to a full stop, wary of the enthusiasm, “I’ll wake up the rest.”

“I’ll get you up.” Her John said.

He’d probably sit and watch her sleep, too, needle and torn pants in hand, like a creepy little owl but that was one of those things she figured make or break a family, you either find it endearing you have a brother who rarely blinks or you go mad. Today, after all of it, she didn’t mind having a guardian Angel. Or a watchdog. Speaking of-

“Hey,” she asked him, “you two flew out together, where’s Bucky?”

But no one had an answer for that, not even Little John.

💋Hope you enjoyed AND REMEMBER -prompts are now open.

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[aftonfamilyvalues]

how women on here are reacting to the boxing situation is the final straw for me with radblr tbh.

like imagine this scenario for a second: people are making false claims about you that you not only can easily disprove with a simple, uninvasive test, but you've ALREADY DONE said test in the past so you'd just need to ask them to publish the results. you can debunk these claims with the same amount of effort required to push a button.

but you don't. you have Literally The Easiest Option In The World to prove you're right and you don't do it.

and yet because women have created their own OC for this guy in their heads who is a female with androgen issues they'd rather defend their self-made blorbo as a way to peacock about how "yes all women" and/or "not racist" they are than do 2 seconds of research and critical thinking to realize "hey maybe this situation that fits literally all the criteria for the dude being a male, including the fact that he's been previously disqualified from competing in the women's league TWICE yet shows up for the Female Olympics anyway, means he's actually just a liar and cheater"

i'm open to having some sympathy for him if his parents (tried to*) raise him as a girl but like. he's a fucking adult. he took a sex test. he knows who he is now. he's making his own decisions. one of these decisions is choosing to hide who he is.

*idc how misogynistic his parents are in believing "no vagina??? but no penis. no penis = female. because female = non-male.", if they knew he had a male-specific dsd that coloured how they raised and treated him, even if they tried to hide it. the act itself of hiding it from him and trying not to raise him that way makes their treatment of him already inherently different from how they'd raise him if he were actually female.

link here

im going to try to go about this in the most respectful way possible.

i cant say i agree with everything youre saying here. theres still a lot of misinformation about this and i cant say a slatz tweet is very satisfying for me given the racist and homophobic things ive seen from her. but, if what you say is true, that this boxer is an intersex male who was assigned female at birth, i think its completely unfair to treat her entirely as a man. the community tends to regard itself as a place for intersex women too, those with this particular dsd were not spared misogyny just because they unknowingly had xy chromosomes. learning they are biologically male with a dsd doesnt mean they have a desire to completely restructure their lives and identity around being men, i think thats kind of insane to expect.

that being said, i think there needs to be a reevaluation of fairness in sports and how intersex people fall into it. what advantages or disadvantages do intersex women carrying a y chromosome have over those that dont? what male charactistics (bone density, for example) still exist in these women? do they pose a danger to other women in their sport? what about other intersex conditions? at what point does it become unfair? unfortunately it could lead to their exclusion, and if that happens will there be another place for them? theres a lot to consider and things will have to change as we learn more. its not really a black and white situation in my opinion.

[fuzziemutt]

On the views of Rio in relation to Miguel within fandom

There's something I'm commonly seeing that has been worrying me which is the depictions of Rio "latina mom-ing" Miguel.

This includes Rio:

- slapping him

- coming at him with "the chancla"

- "dressing him down" verbally or yelling

- humiliating him

- straight up just... Beating him up

And I'm bringing this up because guys... This shit be low-key racist. I know racism towards latines has already been a problem (Yes. I am gesturing to the everything that is how Miguel is treated within the fandom), but I personally wanted to bring up this issue as well as I'm unsure if others have talked about it- and we all know how suck ass searching anything on this site is.

Anyways, I won't lie. I don't know how many latines are making these jokes, but it being so prevalent being her "main" interactions makes me feel even if it started as a latine joke, it sure as hell didn't stay that way.

But the depiction of Latina women as fierce, aggressive and (yes it is) straight up physically abusive (in general words) is a major fucking Problem. Latinas are often depicted in media as these "feisty exotic women" who takes no shit. Perpetuating that with Rio does not feel as #girl power as you guys might think. It feels like a step back in treating latinas not as these power houses but as... Y'know... People who aren't depicted as aggressors 24/7....

But also I really hate this cutesy look at what is a serious issue within latine communities. It's always "ha ha funny" seeing a Latina mom beating someone's ass but guys. That is still physical abuse. That is a serious issue and discussion that is held within the latine community. And seeing it so casually assigned to Rio kind of makes me feel sick.

And this isn't even tacking on that you're having a Latina beating/acting aggressive towards a canonical child abuse survivor (yes. Miguel is a child abuse survivor.) Which adds a whole new layer of how shitty this actually is.

Because I hate how people are boiling Rio down to just being an aggressor towards Miguel to "put him in his place". That's discrediting her character so badly.

Yes, latinas can be strong. Yes, latinas can be angry. Yes, latinas can get aggressive.

These are things people are and do because people are complex.

But I really need the fandom to stop for a second and really think about how they saw Rio, witnessed her give her heart on the screen, - a mom who's trying so hard to break these cycles of yelling and humiliation with kindness and understanding (even being a foil to Jeff's strong headed approach on purpose) -

took her and said "she would perpetuate a real cycle of abuse towards a fellow latino because he's the 'bad one'" and laughed.

I know you guys are depicting her like this as a means to defend Miles, but maybe not like this. Her character doesn't deserve being so bastardized like this for your stolen joke.

(which this whole "need" to defend him in the first place points right back to the racism towards Miguel if we're honest. I have complex thoughts on Miguel's interactions with Miles especially involving the end train scene but boiling a traumatized Latino man down to just being an "aggressive threat" that needs to be "put in place" as I've mentioned above is racist as hell too.)

You guys can reblog this, but don't fucking guilt trip people into reblogging this okay? I'm not giving you brownie points for that shit.

[theronanlynchshow]

my overdue intro post

hiii!!!

I guess it's finally time to do an intro post lol. (leaving this here tho i've updated it like 20 times??? WTF IS WRONG WITH ME) I’m in high school, bisexual, she/her pronouns but idc. I’m a slytherin, aries, and intj. You can call me ava, ronan, or rose on here.

me & my gf broke up so i'm currently feeling very single 😭😭😭 * All the single ladies starts playing*

Check out my youtube channel!!!!

DNI if you are

homophobic, transphobic, racist, ableist

empty blog (i will block you if you look like a bot

an artist trying to sell me something (I DO NOT WANT TO BUY YOUR ART AND WILL BLOCK YOU)

MY DMS AND ASKS ARE OPEN, MY FANDOMS ARE

Harry Potter (Marauders)

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Music i like

Lorde

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I do color guard, winter guard, and competitive speech & debate so expect rants about both lmao.

I beta read on Ao3 for fun, if you need a beta reader dm me.

Also check out my Hamilton HS AU on Ao3 (same username)

I mostly post funny shit from my life but sometimes fandom things also

this blog is rated PFG for pretty fucking gay 😝

100 followers event!!!!!!! (Adding this to my intro so it stays pinned)

send me an ask with one or more of these & i’ll answer!!!! ily guys <3

🏳️: what flag/rifle toss i think fits you best & why

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#100 followers#100 followers event#event#<3#love my moots <3#i love asks!

[rwac96]

Pyrrha & Shallot # 4: Worse Fears

*Shallot stares at an ominous grey cube, studying it from top to bottom*

Shallot: *looks at the cube* "Okay, so this' the Fear Cube that Ozpin guy warned about."

Pyrrha: *approaches* "Shallot, you heard Ozpin, don't touch it."

Shallot: "Aren't you a bit curious?"

Pyrrha: "There's a saying on this planet about curiosity: It killed the cat."

Shallot: *blinks* "Isn't that a bit racist against Blake?"

Pyrrha: *facepalms* "No. It means that there's a good reason why people say no. Ozpin explained that if one touches the cube, it manifests one's worse fears."

Shallot: "Doesn't that excite ya for a fight--?"

Pyrrha: *angry* "No! No! Do not touch it!"

Shallot: *reaches for the cube* "I'm touchin' it!"

---

*Shallot touches the Fear Cube, the Ancient Saiyan finding himself surrounded by dead bodies, including Vegeta, Giblet, Cabba, and Weiss; the one standing over them was Zahha*

Zahha: "Don't look like that, Puppet....it's quite a fitting place for the Blood of The Defeated." *cackles* "Very fitting for a failure!"

*The word 'Failure' echoed around Shallot, causing him to sweat, panting non-stop*

---

*In reality, Pyrrha shook Shallot, who was having a panic attack as he held the Fear Cube*

Pyrrha: *shaking the Saiyan* "Shallot!" *she releases him, using her Polarity to lift up the cube*

*Moving her hands, Pyrrha brings the cube out of the Saiyan's reach; who begins to return to reality*

Shallot: *dazed* "Huh? What happened?!"

Pyrrha: *angry* "This is why Ozpin said not to touch the cube!"

Shallot: "Oh...GET RID OF IT!"

Pyrrha: *huffs, lowering the cube* "Ozpin assigned us to watch the cube--."

Ruby: *kicks open the door* "GUYS! GET READY FOR HALLOWEEN BIRTHDAY GOODNESS!"

*Pyrrha, now startled, drops the cube, which falls down onto the top of her head*

Ruby: *horrified* "HOLY CRAP, PYRRHA!"

---

*Pyrrha opens her eyes to Cinder Fall, grinning with malice*

Cinder: *eerily laughing* "Do you love your...gift."

*Pyrrha blinks, then realizes that her right arm is a monstrous claw; her emerald eyes catch a reflection in a pool of black water; a horrendous mix of human flesh stitched together with Grimm parts*

Pyrrha: *horrified* "nO! tHiS iSn'T mE!!" tHiS iSn'T mEEEEEE!!!"

---

*In reality, Pyrrha was screaming "I'M NOT A ZOMBIE! I AM NOT A UNDEAD*

Ruby: *scared* "Shallot! Pyrrha's screaming for no reason!"

Shallot: *approaches the gladiator* "It's that stupid cube!" *he grabs the cube with both hands* "Dammit, I shouln't have--!"

---

*Shallot blinks, finding himself in a black tux; standing at an altar as the pianist plays 'Here Comes the Bride'*

Shallot: *confused, looking around* "A wedding? This' helluva lot different than the previous nightmare." *blinks* "Wait? Is this cube implying that I have a fear of commitment?!"

*His onyx eyes shift to a woman in white, obviously, the bride, walking down the aisle with a bouquet of flowers in hand*

Shallot: *adjusts his bowtie* "I'm not all that familiar with marriage? What the hell is this cube implying?"

*The bride gets closer to the altar, making the Saiyan finally notice that Weiss is in the audience; raising his brows in concern*

Shallot: "Wait a moment--!" *turns to the bride, who steps onto the altar*

*The bride's hands shake, raising her right hand grabs a hold of her veil; removing it to reveal a shocked and horrified Pyrrha Nikos*

Pyrrha: *wide-eyed* "SHALLOT?!"

Shallot: *wide-eyed* "PYRRHA?!"

Ozcar: "Dearly, beloved, we are gathered here today--."

*The two screamed "HELL NO!!"*

---

*In reality, Ruby gazed at the two as they shouted profanities at each other*

Ruby: *unsheathing Crimson Rose* "Welp." *shifts it to rifle mode and shoots the cube off Pyrrha's head* "You guys okay?"

*Ther two ceased screaming, looking at each other; Pyrrha pushing the saiyan away from her*

Pyrrha: *red-faced* "Get rid of the damned cube!" *levitates it with her Polarity, tossing it out of the window* "Damn what Ozma says, his idea nearly got me killed!"

Shallot: *red-faced* "Fucking cursed cube!"

Ruby: *confused, sheathing her weapon* "So...what did you two see--?"

Shallot: *marching to the right* "I ain't tellin' shit!!"

Pyrrha: *marching to the left* "Let's never speak of this again."

*The two reluctant housemates go to their separate rooms to get dressed for Halloween, leaving a confused Ruby*

Ruby: *blinks* "...Did it show them baby pictures?"

[martialartslover7]

In defense of Sasuke Uchiha (Blank Period)

Another rant post of mine. Hoo boy.

Like, I don't know about you guys, but, honestly, Sasuke should have returned to the Leaf village, regurlarly, after the war. Not after months or years, and here is why: Sasuke may have chosen to leave the village and become a rogue ninja, but never forget...

...he is as much of a victim, as the rest of the entire Uchiha clan (safe for Madara and Obito), and the Leaf village, in the grand scheme of things. He was never the problem.

Remember, Sasuke wouldn't have even defected in the first place, had the Konoha elders not been such an ignorant and stubborn bunch, that is both stuck in the past, and unable to move on. Remaining bitter towards the Uchiha, until they get laid to rest in their coffins. ...Our totally trustworthy leaders, everyone! Would you still apply for a job with them, after what they had done to the Uchiha?

Here is a thing, if they were fine with the Uchiha getting sacrificed to "maintain peace" and wiping everything under the rug, too, where should we draw a line? Where does it stop? What other clan might have been next, had the Uchiha not been the ONLY ones to agree with a coup d'état? You really mean to tell me, neither of the clans, that had sensory abilities like the Hyuga, the Yamanaka, or even the Inuzuka, were ever made aware of this? This. Was. A. MASSACRE. This wasn't a spy operation, innocent civilians were slaughtered in the process, remember, not every Uchiha was even able to unlock their own Kekkei Genkai, so, the only logical conclusion is:

Either, Danzo might have blackmailed the other clans to shut their mouths about this incident, because, come on, NO ONE can tell me, the screams from men, women and infants, along with blood splatters, could have been missed so easily, I know the Uchiha were shoved into the very edge of the village, but what are the chances of this just getting ignored, just like that? Especially if you have the Byakugan, or you have a hound with you, like the Inuzuka?

The elders from each clan in Konoha were all in on this, as an orchestrated, planned event, choosing willingly to ignore it all, because hey, it's so convenient to just look away, when it doesn't concern your own clan, right?

This isn't the face of an "irredeemable piece of trash war criminal, who doesn't deserve forgiveness". This is the face of a man, who has seen and been told some shit, that cannot ever be unseen or unheard. Imagine being born into a world, where, the very second you drew breath, everyone hates you, just for existing, for things, you didn't even ask to be burdened with. Much less, when you were still a kid, too. And doing it in SECRET, no less. Dude. This doesn't take a genius to understand, how fucked right up this is.

Plus, am I the only one who finds it insanely shitty from either Naruto, Sakura or Kakashi, to never make any efforts to publically criticize or oppose the elders for what they have done to the Uchiha clan? Wanting to bring the truth about the entire clan to light, and put the elders and feudal lords on the spot? Just for the fact alone, that they never once tackled this subject during the Blank Period, is, to me, a very shitty thing to do, especially since Naruto prides himself the loudest on having made Sasuke come back to his senses, and yet, never once, does he challenge these old farts? Really? Maybe I am missing something, feel free to correct me, but from my memory, neither he, or Kakashi, when he was still Hokage, made ANY efforts to publically apologize to the Uchiha clan, or even so much as trying to build memorial stones for the deceased Uchiha, or hell, even Itachi (I think?). And yes, I know, the clan was at the verge of starting a civil bar, but again:

NOT ALL OF THEM. WERE FINE. WITH IT. ESPECIALLY CONSIDERING, IT ALL MOSTLY STEMMED FROM MADARA BEING A SORE LOSER, AND TOBIRAMA BEING A RACIST PIECE OF GARBAGE. AND A HUGE PORTION OF THE UCHIHA WERE NOT EVEN ASSIGNED SHINOBI. PRAY TELL, KILLING EVERYONE, BECAUSE OF A FEW ROTTEN APPLES MAKES EVERYTHING OK THEN?!?!?!?!?!

And Kakashi bears Obito's Sharingan, he is living evidence too, of what public scrutiny and scapegoating can do to a person! His life, is essentially no different from either Naruto or Sasuke, and yet, despite having taught Sasuke, and still loving him as a teammate, no, as FAMILY, he NEVER ONCE HELPED HIM GETTING HIS NAME CLEARED?! What the FUCK, Kishimoto?

Also, can I be honest? I hate Boruto, as a follow-up story, for a different reason altogether. That being:

It STILL pretends as if the Uchiha are "evil, by default", and the elders are still, somehow, by some twisted "miracle", "in power", during Naruto's and Kakashi's rule. I mean, just for the fact, that these dried up twigs still have any say, WHATSOEVER, even the tiniest bit of presence in ANY capacity, after all the vile shit that they have pulled, by siding with Danzo, and making backhanded deals with other villages, is enough of a reason for me to more than sympathize with Sasuke's decision to never truly consider this village home, because WHY WOULD HE? These assholes ruined his life, way before he was even born, and yet these same jesters expect Sasuke to live in seclusion, and in shame, over what his heritage has done, but taking accountability for their own actions? Pffft, noooo, why would they? Their reputation as "village leaders" is more important than confronting their own shortcomings...

So, no, after the war, Sasuke should have been given some form of leniency, with either Naruto, Sakura or Kakashi having gone off to spread the word to other nations that what he did, cannot easily be pardoned, but they at least, THE BARE MINIMUM, deserve to know and understand, WHY he did all this. This. THIS course of action would have been a serious love letter to Sasuke, a sign of appreciation that, no matter where he went, he will always matter, even if he believes himself to be undeserving of it, because: It just isn't productive to be leaving an already scarred individual like him in the mold of "all Uchiha, bad", because that just won't work out. Paying for his wrongs is one thing, but putting him, for the rest of his life, along with his future descendants in the "square of shame", is just plain pathetic. Sasuke deserves to have some peace and quiet, too.

Moral of the story: DO NOT. LET HISTORY. REPEAT ITSELF.

Look, this post is not meant to excuse anything Sasuke has done, I am only providing more context that explains, why I feel like, the story was doing him dirty, especially near the end of Shippuden and during the Blank Period. You can think whatever you want about him, I don't care, all I am saying is, even someone like him deserves some well-deserved closure, because, that never happened. The stigma has not disappeared, and it wasn't Sasuke's doing, it was Madara's, don't get that confused. Besides, go on, keep ignoring the concept of "from action, follows a reaction", just so you can keep twisting and turning it, to always make Sasuke appear like the bad guy. Keep doing. You're doing great. In exposing how stupid and ignorant you are, frankly put.

Sasuke deserves to live in peace, he deserves to be happy, and not live in another illusion of supposed "peace", when really, nothing has changed, he deserves better. And look, we can judge Itachi all we want, but in the end, he still loved his brother, and that remains forever, all he did, was for him, as twisted as his method ended up being. It still ended up saving lives. No one else deserves to bear such a burden. Which makes it even more imperative to not wipe something as important as this under the rug, because "the truth is too unpleasant". Case closed.

Peace.

[luunamoona]

i never really understood why pierce was there. like he was just there to be laughed at for being ignorant and creepy, then i guess he was meant to be a kind of villain. but then he supposedly redeemed himself at the end of season 2, but is still kinda just an asshole in seasons 3 and 4. it got to a point where he just wasn't funny (that point came very fast) and he just became a nuisance. to me it's a lot like how i view ren yamai in komi can't communicate, a character with no real meaning but being there for me to utterly despise and for me to hate reading any chapters that she appears in. back to pierce, why did he get so many chances for forgiveness? it started in episode 2, where he directly rejected the assignment given to him, to the point where jeff repeatedly telling him that they should be doing the assignment did nothing to sway him, then suddenly it's jeff's fault? and then that makes jeff get an F on the assignment?? and pierce is still not in the wrong??? literally made jeff fail and we still gotta forgive him. and why are we supposed to feel sorry for him in economics of marine biology? my guy you have been consistently a racist, a homophobe and all around an asshole throughout this entire show i do not feel sorry for you. when shirley said he died in basic intergluteal numismatics that was some of the biggest relief i've felt in my life istg.

[lover-of-mine]

https://x.com/diazscloset/status/1818495955961876615

I just have no words 💀

Why would Eddie be in with Gerrard? He's literally half Mexican with a disabled kid. Buck still has pretty much every single bit of privilege he always had and while Gerrard is intolerant towards everything, he was always more racist than homophobic. This assigned evil via mustache thing they have going is driving me nuts because the mustache is something stereotypically Mexican, when you say Mexican man most people with not a lot of knowledge will see the guy with the big mustache, a sombrero, and poncho. I know mustaches are big in the queer community, and I want that to be a sign of queer Eddie as much as the next person and obviously it can be both, but Eddie growing a mustache because mustaches are part of the Mexican culture, Gerrard has one and is being an asshole to everyone and he's feeling petty is something that Eddie would do. Eddie looks latino, why would he be in with Gerrard??? Chim is not queer and was treated horribly.

[weirdmarioenemies]

Name: Yellow Shy Guy

Debut: Certainly not Mario Kart Tour! (It was Super Mario World 2: Yoshi’s Island)

Yeah yeah yeah this is a very Regular Mario Enemy. Yes, you are on the right blog! But this is a Regular Mario Enemy, in a Weird Mario Situation... yeah, it’s another post about the specifics of character alt colors in Mario Kart Tour. I hope you like those!

Shy Guys come in all sorts of colors! They always have! Red may be default, but yellow can always be counted on to make an appearance if other colors are present. It makes sense, since Yellow is one of the main characters of Colors. Do you consider the primary colors to be red/blue/yellow or magenta/cyan/yellow? Doesn’t matter! Yellow is there! Please do not bring up RGB. But if you do, I will simply retort that the powers of red and green light must combine to give rise to the mighty Yellow!

Yellow Shy Guy is also very often playable! In older, more limited games, the default red may be the only one playable, but these days you can confidently expect Yellow Shy Guy to be an option. If you were lucky in Mario Kart DS download play, you might be assigned Yellow Shy Guy by random chance! Yellow Shy Guy finally became selectable in Mario Kart 8′s DLC, which to me is more appealing than any of the added characters. While my favorite color is light blue, I am a big fan of Yellow Shy Guy, and find his green shoes more fashionable than Light-Blue Shy Guy’s red ones!

But then, along came Mario Kart Tour. Red Shy Guy was the first one present, no problem with that! We all knew the rest would come soon enough. But they came in a weird order! Black, pink, green, light blue, blue, white, orange... At the time of Orange Shy Guy’s release, it had been nearly three and a half years since the game launched. And yet, still no sign of that classic yellow fellow? I’m normally mellow, but that makes me want to bellow! Even a gold Shy Guy was added... gold. The coward’s yellow!

On the wiki’s list of Shy Guy colors, Yellow is among the only ones not using a render from Tour, instead being shown using one from Dr. Mario World, in a different pose. Yellow looks like an impostor among all these others! I’m here if he ever needs to vent.

According to Mario Super Sluggers, Yellow Shy Guy loves to steal. Hey! Stealing is bad! Is that why you’re not allowed in Tour, Yellow Shy Guy? Green Shy Guy loves to hit and run, but that’s okay. Mario Kart is all about vehicular violence. They love that kind of attitude!

This all being said, Yellow Shy Guy is technically playable in Tour, though as a variant in the form of Yellow Shy Guy (Explorer). This is an act of community service, as Yellow Shy Guy is graciously role-playing as an old-timey prospector as seen in the new version of Sunset Wilds, replacing the racist usage of Shy Guys from the GBA version of the track. Thank you, Yellow Shy Guy! But still, he should not have to hide himself behind a costume to get a place in the roster. Or I guess a second costume, in this case. When will being a humble Yellow Shy Guy be seen as enough...?

Poor Yellow Shy Guy. But oh? What is that, under the read more of this post? Wow! I can’t believe it! What a thing to behold! You should click Read More, so you can see it!

Donkey Kong is finally getting a costumed variant, and about time too! Congratulations to him! Sorry to Yellow Shy Guy though. Yellow Shy Guy is not Donkey Kong, you see. Unless he IS Donkey Kong under his robes and mask, and gorillas can be compressed into much smaller states than I was aware of.

...Huh? What’s that, live studio audience of children? There’s something I’m missing? There’s something else of note in this tour? Oh! Thank you for letting me know! Let’s see...

HOORAY!!!!!

Yellow Shy Guy loves to steal, it’s true. And he is especially great at stealing the show! I am so proud of Yellow Shy Guy for finally making it into Mario Kart Tour! #YellowShyGuySweep! It makes me want to play as Yellow Shy Guy in Mario Kart 8, which is a much better game where you can access Yellow Shy Guy quickly and easily.

To celebrate our friend’s victory, if you have Mario Kart 8 Deluxe, you could play the custom Yellow Mode I made up! Here are the rules:

1. All humans must play as Yellow Shy Guy, and use only the yellowest of kart parts!

2. Only yellow items may be used! This means Coin, Banana, Triple Banana, Golden Mushroom, Star, and Lightning!

3. Only yellow courses are allowed! There are not that many yellow courses, so you can use your imagination here. For example, Toad Circuit features a big Yellow Toad balloon, and untextured Yellow sand! Wario’s Gold Mine is about mining some Yellow Minerals! Ice Ice Outpost features a whole yellow track, but don’t even think about driving on the green one!

And speaking of yellow tracks... I hope everyone’s looking forward to the Simpson Tour, featuring the new Springfield Streetrace track! Mario Kart Tour? More like Mario BART Tour! Aye carumba!

[a-totally-reasonable-username]

When i was in high school (one of the many schools i've been to) i had the worst luck with the class teacher. He was terrible.

We were assigned a book to read and discuss and all the usual stuff. The problem was that he was a big fan of that book and would not listen to any criticism. It wasn't a classic or on the curriculum, he chose it. It was severely racist, ableist, homophobic, sexist and misogynistic. It wasn't talking about any of those themes, it was just that the narrative and the main character were hugely discriminatory because the author was a bigot. The main character was a teenager by a guy that hated kids and teens and used the character to say "see this is why teenagers are the worst and horrible and disgusting"

I hated the book. I hated my teacher more. Now this was an old cis straight white guy. (Yes i do know all of these for a fact) that got paid for teaching teenagers. When presented with a non white female student critiquing his favourite book and saying it was racist, he proceeded to have screaming matches. He'd just. Scream and yell. Sometimes for the entire class. Then he'd blame the wasted time on me.

The only reason he was a teacher was because he liked having complete authority. He did not appreciate me questioning that. I tried to explain to the other students why i couldn't just let it go and do what he wanted to get it all over with, but except for three of my friends, they didn't get it. They didn't care.

For me it wasn't just about the book. The point where I decided I was not going to let anything go, was when this man tried to tell me i couldn't wear a hat in class. It sounds stupid, right? Everyone else thought so. But i grew up listening to stories of my grandparents. They're post war gen. They had nazis for teachers. They actively fought against having nazis for teachers. My grandmother was the first girl here to wear pants to school. If my grandma could break dress code like that in the fifties, i was not going to follow the whims of a teacher with no true power. Not in a time when dress codes don't even exist anymore.

In the end i left that school. That teacher had spent many hours screaming at me over the course of weeks. He actively lied to the principal, the workers at the boarding part of the school and fucking cps. He purposely failed me and destroyed my belongings so that i couldn't prove he had failed me unfairly.

I still have a friend at that school and a year after i left she told me all the parents got involved very suddenly after he had used the n-word in class. We live in germany. Hate speech laws are very much a thing here. And there were two dozen witnesses. None of those same witnesses believed me a year earlier.

I don't know if there's a point to this story, but if you see discrimination, don't ignore it just because "it's not that bad". If you let it go it'll just get worse. Authoritarian behaviour isn't unquestionable just because the person is considered to be an authority figure by society. School rules do not supersede laws. Fight back. Don't take it lying down just because it's easier.

[bitterkarella]

Midnight Pals: Love on a Battlefield

Stephen King: guys did you hear there’s a  video game campfire too? Mary Shelley:  that sounds like some nerd shit King: no no there are lots of cool people there King: hideo kojima, sid meier, bob bates   King: the 2 guys from andromeda Shelley: [cracking knuckles in anticipation]

Hideo Kojima: IN THE YEAR OF OUR LORD 19XX, MERCENERY GASEOUS SNAKE IS BROUGHT OUT OF RETIREMENT TO FIGHT THE REMNANTS OF THE WOLFDOG UNIT... Kojima: INCLUDING... Kojima: ROPE CHOKER, POISON EATER, TORPEDO LAUNCHER , AXE GRINDER, BOMB DETONATOR, AND DIPPY DOG

Kojima: do you think that love can bloom on a battlefield? Kojima: Kojima: yes... Kojima: even on a battlefield... Ken Williams: hey my girlfriend roberta and I saw you from across the bar and we’re really digging your vibe Williams: Can we buy you a drink?

Kojima: the villainous traitor bad boy has kidnapped dr good scientist and forced him to help build the ultimate weapon of mass destruction... Kojima: the metal gear... Kojima: it’s like a tank... Kojima: but it can move... Kojima: Kojima: But wait... Kojima: not with treads... Kojima: with legs...

[at Midnight Society] Hideo Kojima: I have an idea for a new video game... Kojima: About you! Stephen King: oh wow a game about us? that sounds pretty ok! Poe: yeah I’d be curious about this Kojima: the game is called ‘the association of Fire Story friends’ Kojima: a hideo kojima game... Kojima: written by hideo kojima... Kojima: produced by hideo kojima... Kojima: directed by hideo kojima... Kojima: catering by hideo kojima...

 Kojima: The fire story friend association members names are... Kojima: Bird Scare.. Poe: Kojima: Clown daddy... King: Kojima: Knife Stabber... Mary Shelley: Kojima: Little Friend... Dean Koontz: Kojima: Cat Bitch... Clive Barker: Kojima: and Silly Racist... Lovecraft: Lovecraft: w-which one is me

Kojima: SUBMITTED FOR THE APPROVAL OF THE MIDNIGHT SOCIETY I CALL THIS THE TALE OF THE STORY FRIENDS... Kojima: IT IS A GAME WHERE THE GOAL IS NOT TO FIGHT... Mary Shelley: what the hell is this shit Thomas Disch: sh let him cook Disch: mr kojima in level 5 is there a way to escape the dungeon w/o the wizard‘s key? Shelley: shut UP nerd

Kojima: In this game, you play as clown daddy... Kojima: bird scare has given him an assignment... Kojima: he must tell a story without anyone hearing King: wow! incredible! King: hideo, once again you’ve redefined a genre!

Kojima: this story is also about how war is bad... King: whats the theme tho Kojima: Kojima: uh, its that war is bad... King: Koontz: Poe: Lovecraft: Barker: Kojima: perhaps this three hour cutscene will explain better...

Kojima: now this next story will be my last ever... Kojima: for real this time... King: aw really? Kojima: yes... King: King: really?