Hwangbrothers - Hwang Bros

by matalalta

If your reaction to people rightfully calling out Gaza scam bots for being vile scammers preying on real Palestinians’ lives and people’s kindness is to call them racist or genocide supporters, you’re one of these;

Someone who is never taught about internet literacy, internet safety and how dangerous it is to blindly trust strangers in your inbox / DMs begging you for your money with the same copy paste script of the same sob stories — strangers whose blogs were either created 3 days ago with the sole purpose of sending the same ask to 100+ people a day or literal porn bots before they became Palestinians, if you go to their blogs and scroll down far enough

Someone who is easily guilt tripped and manipulated. Because that’s the precise tactic these scammers use, manipulating and guilt tripping you into believing you are a terrible person for not donating and posting their asks

Someone who knows these vile things are scammers but still chooses to protect them for the sake of looking Morally Superior (“look!!!! I support these Poor People!!!! I’m such a good person!!!!)

Someone who, for some sick, twisted reasons, is okay with scammers profiting off of real Palestinians and scamming people off their money

Someone who is also a scammer

Also, no, people who rightfully call out Gaza scam bots for being vile scammers preying on real Palestinians’ lives and people’s kindness are not “monsters” or “racist” or “heartless”. They are the ones who actually give a fuck and care about Palestinian people enough to choose to speak against scammers who profit off of a genocide and robbing from Palestinian people donation money that could have gone to, you know, real Palestinians instead of scammers’ pockets.

A reminder that these scammers stole from Palestinian people their identities and photos to trick you into believing them. But it’s all part of a big scam ring, even the vetters and the organization that vets these bots, and Tumblr has always been a target of scammers for years.

It started with these scammers pretending to be students needing money for their education fees, then they pretend to be pet owners needing money for their sick, dying pets, then they’re porn bots and now they pretend to be Palestinians trying to survive in Gaza. But they are all the same scammers plaguing Tumblr for a whole decade and more. Do not fall for them. Stay safe.

Fyodor Dostoevsky, from a letter featured in Letters of Fyodor Michailovitch Dostoevsky to his Family & Friends

i know in canon that inho’s and junho’s mother (stepmother in inho’s case) would never find out about the Games but i’m actually screeching imagining this:

like imagine this woman. all she wanted was for her two boys to call her sometimes. maybe not disappear for months at a time without so much as a text. maybe come to dinner once a week. and then she finds out:

(1) inho?? the “golden child” who always brought her flowers on parents’ day and vacuumed without being asked?? ran off to play in a death game?? then still had the audacity to survive, climb the ranks, and then became the emo darth vader of the whole operation??

(2) and the other? junho. immediately endangers his life to chase after him. zero hesitation. zero explanation. just disappears the same way, like they’re doing some twisted sibling relay race into the abyss.

(3) then inho shoots him. shoots. him. off a cliff.

(4) and after all that, junho still decides, “i’m gonna go back. i’m gonna find him. i’m gonna rescue his murdery ass because i’m the only one allowed to beat him up.”

so now imagine their (step)mother, who thought both of them were dead, suddenly finds out that not only are they not dead, but they’ve both been playing emotional chicken with the reaper out of some self-destructive sense of sibling loyalty.

her slipper’s already in hand. her rage is generational.

she gets them both in the same room and it’s not yelling—it’s a reckoning. she doesn’t even ask questions. she just starts swinging.

“you!” slaps the older one on the back of the head “you don’t call! you don’t write! you don’t even have the decency to stay out of crime??”

“and you!” grabs the younger by the ear mid-escape attempt “YOU FOLLOW HIM?? INTO THAT?? ARE YOU STUPID OR IS THIS A PERFORMANCE??”

they try to explain. they stutter. they glance at each other like say something but neither does. because god forbid they communicate like normal people. at some point one of them probably mutters “it wasn’t his fault” and she just screams louder.

they’re both on the floor by the end. slipper marks. emotional damage. one of them maybe crying a little. and she’s just standing there going, “you could’ve died without even telling me why. you idiots. come eat.”

and they do. they sit at the table in total silence, still bleeding metaphorically and literally, and they eat. because no matter how far you run, no matter how cold you become, no matter how many times you almost kill each other—

you are NEVER too old to be slippered into submission by the woman who raised you.

Ryan Shorosky—Ohio, 2015

Emily Dickinson, from a letter to Catherine May Scott wr. c. August 1848