I understand why people dislike leather and animal products. But leather is such a good resource? Like… My mom bought a sturdy leather coat in 1989. I’m in my 20’s and I now wear that coat. That’s a 30 year old coat? 30 years, two generations, one coat. Versus, like… A plastic one, that rips and gets thrown out, or releases bits into the ecosystem every time it’s washed, takes a billion years to decompose, lasts maybe a decade if you’re super duper careful, and uses oil products in it’s construction.
Like, yeah leather is expensive and comes from a living animal, and I’m not saying that you should go out and buy fifty fur and leather products for the he’ll of it, but like… Maybe the compromise is worth it?
One animal product, valued and respected and worn down for generations, versus like… Six plastic products that will never ever go away?
idk, I could be wrong.
this is why im so fucking pissed white colonial fucks and white vegans get so enraged at indigenous people for using hides/leather and animal bones as if that shit breaks or rips like cheap polyester does
It’s not “vegan wool”, it’s plastic.
It’s not “vegan leather”, it’s plastic.
It’s not “vegan fur”, it’s fucking plastic. It’s all plastic.
It’s all fucking plastic, and every time you wash it, or damage it, or try to dispose of it, that plastic winds up in the water, in the earth, in the air.
Hell, the damage has already done when the fucking thing’s been made. As the OP says, it’s all oil and oil products; it creates pollution just to produce synthetic fabrics and materials, even before you try to throw them away, which, I mean, good luck with that.
A lot of vegan ideology is built up around a very superficial set of ethics that are supposedly about protecting animals, wildlife and the environment, but they fall apart when you look even a little bit below the surface. Every time you eschew an animal-based product in favour of something “synthetic” for the sake of “saving an animal’s life”, you’re creating pollution and trash that won’t go away for thousands of years, damaging the Earth and making life so much worse for countless animals and people.
Think about this stuff more than not at all, please.
Eeeeeeverybody loves to get up my asshole because I wear fur. Yeah? Okay then.
When you live somewhere with -40C winter temperatures, you realize that pragmatism and warmth trump all other considerations.
I’m in and out of cars and buildings all day, every day. I have to dress for the weather and fur is hands down one of the warmest things you can wear — ask the fucking Inuit.
So you know what I do?
I check consignment stores. I check estate auctions. I get family heirloom furs.
I buy furs that are literally older than I am, in styles that would consign them to the dumpster, and then get them tailored to fit. My fur earmuffs? Salvaged fur from a coat that was ripped and functionally useless. My fur short coat? A fur that got raggedy and moth-eaten at the bottom and so was hemmed to hip height. My long fur coat is almost fifteen years older than I am, and I’m thirty one years old. Do that math.
So yes. I wear fur, because it fits my needs, my budget, and my ethics. The vegans wearing pleather can kick a brick. Only one of our coats is going to destroy the planet, and it isn’t my grandmother’s mink stole.
Not to mention the fact that buying these natural leather products from indigenous peoples both subverts capitalism (that wants you to buy cheap shit that breaks), and also supports indigenous communities and artisans.
I’m reading the notes and it’s really cute when people go “but use hemp! Use cotton! Try linen!”
Imma wear linen when the weather looks like this:
I am NOT going to wear hemp, linen or cotton when the weather looks like this:
When the weather outside is frightful, I’mma make like an Inuit and dress like this:
(Also, as you say: it is possible to responsibly source ethical furs. I prefer furriers like Victoria Kakuktinniq, who is an Indigenous Inuit fashion designer who interprets traditional fur designs for a modern sensibility. The funds from her clothing — and from other northern Indigenous communities — allows those northern communities to maintain their cultural traditions, while also introducing a much-needed revenue stream. If you have to buy fresh fur, Indigenous furriers are a good bet!)
@acti-veg this is just…. *sigh*
Which part is *passive aggressive sigh*?
Would it be the:
-reuse of fabrics and furs that are generally anywhere from 10-50 years old?
-recycling and repurposing of old or otherwise unusable materials like leather and fur to make smaller items like jackets, vests, gloves, hats and balaclavas?
-support for Indigenous traditions, handicrafts and artisans?
-recognition of the fact that there are very few plant-based products that will stand up to winters where the average temperature is anywhere from -20 to -50
I know, I know. Your ethics are itchy and it’s very simple to talk that good shit.
But let me introduce you to a Canadian phenomena: frostbite.
Frostbite occurs when your cells freeze. Your cells.
Ice crystals begin to form in cells in temperatures lower than -4C, which is what Canadians call “spring, fucking finally”.
In the teeth of winter, you get maybe ten hours of sunlight a day and your highest temperature is still double digits below 0C and the weather channel is saying “WEATHER WARNING: skin freezing in 30SECONDS”, and the government has put out a WEATHER EMERGENCY: EXTREME COLD WARNING.
When the weather is that severe, we don’t actually get the luxury of waxed cotton, woollen peacoats and a few layers of linen.
Sanctimony and sighs and good intentions don’t keep us warm.
Seriously, it hit -50F here last winter, linen and cotton don’t do fuckall in those temps.
Well, that’s not true. They DO, actually. They get wet from sweat and then get clammy and suck the heat out of you, leading to frostbite. Polyester is plastic, and I avoid that, because it’s bad for the environment.
You know what actually keeps you warm when it hits -50F? Wool, fur, and down. All animal products, all renewable and biodegradable, and all of which will last years with proper care.
I have two fur coats, both of which I paid $20 or less for at thrift stores, and both of which are vintage. Wool doesn’t harm the sheep it’s sheared from…they need to be sheared to stay healthy, actually…and down is harvested from animals that will be eaten, meaning none of the animal goes to waste.
Ah, yes. Truely, sheep live terribly. (Note; sheep wool is useless unles they have good pasture they’re raised on)
Ah, yes, the sheep are so mistreated when they’re sheared. A whole four minutes and they’re done. It’s like giving a fussy toddler a haircut.
And if they’re NOT shorn, you get flystrike, which I’m not going to post a pic of here because it is very unpleasant. Basically, flies lay eggs on the thick wool and the larvae eat the sheep’s skin off. It can be fatal.
But please, tell me, the granddaughter of farmers who lives in farm country and who has neighbors who keep sheep, how sheep work.
Stark Tower has literally got the best wifi in the whole of New York and Tony makes it free as well so sometimes he’ll walk out of the ground floor and just see like a dozen or so people, usually kids, just sat on the doorstep on their phones or laptops and like it’s such a little thing to do but yknow. He’s Ironman. Give the kids some damn fast wifi.
the day after actual tony stark saw them hanging out in frony of the Tower, some of the kids were reluctant to go back there but God they had to finish their homework and the tower was on their way from school so they go back there and
theres a separate room that surely mustve been some important part of the lobby yesterday but now had a “Free WiFi Zone” plate on the door. Inside were huge sofas and armchairs and beanbags, fridges stocked with various drinks, a coffee maker and 20ish iron man mugs, a couple of laptops on the desk near the wall and a note for them to read:
“This is your part of the Tower now. Use whatever you need, no time limit, and stay in school kids :) - T. S.”
So I uh… went to write a short, cute drabble for this and… I ended up writing a nearly 3k long fic? Whoops? This got away from me. I regret nothing.
It started with Wi-fi. Wi-fi of all things. Tony found out by accident.
“What’s going on out here?” Tony asked, sliding his sunglasses down a bit to look at the group of teenagers sitting in front of the Tower.
All the teens looked up at once, eyes wide like deer caught in headlights. They looked at each other, then back at Tony.
“Um, well…” A brunet spoke up, closing his laptop. “The Avengers Tower has great Wi-fi, sir. And it’s free. We all… some of us don’t have access to Wi-fi at home, and we need it for school projects.”
Tony blinked. “Oh. Okay. Study hard, then.” He adjusted his sunglasses again and walked into the Tower without a second thought.
But later that day, Tony keeps thinking about it. Can’t get it out of his head, until he goes so far to have FRIDAY pull up security camera footage from in front of the Tower over the past few weeks.
There are kids there, always, Tony finds. Anywhere from ten to nearly fifty, all crowded around the Tower, sitting on the grass. Even at night or in shitty weather, there were at least a few.
And sure, Tony was fine with it. More than fine with it, even. If kids wanted to use Tony’s Wi-fi, he on board with it. Tony was completely with the idea of accessible technology.
So it hung out in the back of Tony’s mind, and he smiled at the group of the teens he saw every time he walked in and it the Tower. He made sure security didn’t bother them, and left them to their devices.
But the thoughts of it wouldn’t leave Tony’s brain. A part of him ached a little at the idea of the kids who were so needing of a damned Wi-fi connection they would sit in the rain for it. It got to the point that Tony was lying awake in bed, thinking about it.
“FRIDAY, are there any vacant floors in the Tower?” Tony asked, staring at the ceiling.
“There are three vacant floors,” FRIDAY answered in a chipper voice.
Tony sat up. “FRIDAY, order a shit ton of junk food and furniture. We have work to do.”
And so it began. Within a week, Tony had a large room on its own floor completely dedicated to being an expansive lounge. It had all sorts of furniture, shelves stocked with every food Tony could think of, a fridge full of drinks, an espresso machine, and over a dozen outlets. It was close to the bottom floor, easily accessible by the elevator. Tony talked to Happy and reorganized his entire security so that anyone could walk into the Tower and go straight to the lounge.
The first day, there were already over twenty teens milling around, laptops plugged in and noses in books. It made Tony smile and feel warm in ways he couldn’t describe, seeing the tranquil environment of kids studying. The numbers grew over time, and Tony made sure it was kept accessible 24/7.
So it started with Wi-fi. But after that, things got more… complicated.
Tony was in the lounge, taking an inventory of what needed to be restocked. Sure, he had people for that, but it was nice to show his face every so often, remind the kids he existed.
Tony finished writing down how many bags of Doritos were on the shelf and spun around, crashing right into someone.
“Oh fuck,” Tony stumbled, catching the person by their elbows. A pair of startled green eyes stared up at him in horror. “Hey. Hi.” Tony smiled. “Sorry about that. Wasn’t looking where I was going. My fault.”
The girl stared at him, breathing hard. “I’m sorry I didn’t-”
“Hey, no. My fault, remember?” Tony soothed. “I’m responsible for at least fifty per cent of the accidents in this Tower.”
“Actually, you’re responsible for sixty-seven point nine per cent.” FRIDAY chirped.
Tony frowned. “Is that counting the incident on Thursday?”
“You did hold fifty per cent of the blame.” FRIDAY reminded him.
“Twelve per cent, at most,” Tony argued. He looked back at the girl. “Thor tried to put a raw egg in the toaster, it’s a long story.”
The girl gave a confused, shy smile. Tony counted that as some kind of victory.
Tony went to let go of the girl’s elbows when his gaze brushed over her forearm. “Hey.” Tony’s voice was softer. “Are you okay?”
The girl froze again, biting her lip. “No- it’s fine, I don’t-” Her face turned red. But not as red as the angry lines cut into her wrist.
“You wanna talk?” Tony asked, eyebrows knit together.
“You-you’re busy I shouldn’t-”
“FRIDAY, cancel the afternoon meeting. Or tell them I’m not coming,” Tony said without hesitation. “There, I’m free.”
The girl frowned. “You didn’t have to do that. It’s fine, really.”
Tony rolled his eyes. “Come on, kid. Let’s talk, okay?” He sighed at her hesitance. “Hey, what’s the worst I can do? I’m just some rich guy.”
With a begrudging smile, the girl took Tony’s hand and Tony lead them to an empty storage room, sitting on the floor with his back against the wall.
“What’s your name?” Tony asked.
“Cecilia,” The girl mumbled.
“Hi, I’m Tony.” Tony introduced with a bright smile. Cecilia laughed. “So you wanna talk about this?” He pointed to her wrist.
“I…” Cecilia cleared her throat. “It’s hard, you know? School is hard, and I’m not good enough to do anything right, and…” She swallowed. Cecilia covered her face, choking on a sob.
Tony scooted closer, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “You wanna know something, kid?”
Cecilia looked up.
“I am one of the richest men alive, have been named Sexiest Man Alive three times, have my last name attached to a fortune five hundred company, have been called one of the leading minds of the 21st century, am a member of the goddamned Avengers and…” Tony ran a hand through his hair. “And I feel the same way. All the time. I wake up worried that someday everyone’s gonna see through me, see the fraud I really am.” Tony cleared his throat. “I have anxiety attacks. I wake up screaming from nightmares. I avoid mirrors. And some days I don’t want to wake up at all.
“But I do. Because there are people who need me to. And maybe it’s more for me than you. But it’s not about numbers. Quantity holds no value the quality. As long as there’s one person who cares, you’ve got a reason to wake up in the morning.” Tony thought a moment. “And if you’ve got no one else, then I count, right?”
There was a long stretch of awkward silence, but the shy smile Tony got made it all worth it.
After that, Tony invested in having free, confidential, no strings attached therapists at the Tower for the kids who came to study. He started with five, but by the end of the month, Tony had seven full time and three part-time working at the Tower. Tony did briefly see Cecilia’s face every now and then, and she seemed happier. That made it all worth it.
After that, everything was a downward spiral. Someone put a suggestion box on the door, and the teens who stayed wrote their ideas down. Tony read every single one. Even the stupid ones. And he listened.
First, there were showers installed in the bathrooms. Tony noticed there were certain faces that showed up more than others, so often it was almost concerning. So Tony figured they might as well freshen up while there. The showers were equipped with towels, soap, and all other necessities.
After the showers came the storage room filled with other living supplies. Blankets, food items, clothing, some basic tech, gift cards for local supermarkets, toiletries. Anything Tony could think of required for living. Like everything else, anyone could take anything, no questions asked.
Then came the library. There were suggestions for a supply of the review books and textbooks for the classes students were taking, and Tony decided to go in all or nothing. The library was filled wall to wall with every modern textbook and review book in the curriculum, as well as an expansive amount of leisure reads as well. Tony stocked it with comfortable seating, computers and tablets as well. There were no late fees, Tony refused to make any of the kids pay a damned dime for things they should have basic access to.
And then there were physical doctors as well. Ones who could give flu shots and prescribe at least the most basic of medications and advice.
After that, the gym just seemed to be common sense. As the recommendations in the box pointed out, public gyms were expensive. So Tony set up a gym. Granted it wasn’t Avengers level, but it was a damned nice gym.
Tutors came next. Private tutors, as well as ones that would teach entire groups. Tony managed to wrestle with the local schools to even get the kids credit for some of the tutorings.
After that, things finally seemed to mellow out. Tony drew up a list of rules, but most of the teens were pretty decent about keeping things civil. Tony was damned proud to average only one incident a month.
The Avengers found out about the Student’s Lounge as it’d be dubbed, and they frequented it more than Tony expected. He found Clint down there telling stories that were probably classified, Natasha showing a group of girls ballet moves, Thor showing off trinkets from Asgard, Steve drawing with a group of art kids, Sam giving serious talks on mental health, and so on. It was nice.
And it worked. Kids were happy and studying, but also had a place to relax and unwind. Tony did have to get an ungodly number of permits and licenses to do what he did, but it was all beyond worth it to see the kids smiling and being safe.
It was a year later when Tony was working in his workshop with jeans and a tank top and FRIDAY caught his attention.
“Mr Stark, your presence has been requested in the Student’s Lounge,” FRIDAY said, cutting into the silence.
Tony frowned. “Is it an emergency?”
There was a pause. “No, but the students are rather insistent.”
“Fine.” Tony stood up with a sigh. “Tell them I’ll be down there in a minute.”
Tony took the elevator down to the floor that was now entirely monopolized by the Student’s Lounge. As soon as the doors opened he found himself standing in front of a few dozen teens, all crowded around and waiting.
“Is this some club meeting or a cult initiation?” Tony asked, sliding his grease-covered hands into his pockets.
A teen stepped forward, a blond boy with bright eyes and a nervous smile. “Uh, hi. We… we had something we wanted to share with you.” He was holding note cards, absently tapping them.
Tony glanced around. “Well then, shoot.” He spread his hands.
The blond cleared his throat, looking down at the cards. “We hear the saying a lot,” He read, “that it’s impossible to shop for a man who has everything. And with you, that couldn’t be more true. A genius billionaire playboy philanthropist, one of Earth’s Mightiest Heroes, and an amazing person all around. You truly have everything, Mister Stark.
“And yet, you give. You give, and you give. You gave us a place to study that became so much more. Beyond the material items, this place has become a home for all of us. For those of us who don’t have food to eat at home, books to read, clothes to wear, a family to come home to. All because you wanted to give some kids a good Wi-fi connection. You created a family. This year alone, the graduation rate grew ten per cent from last year, and we don’t think it’s a coincidence. And we’re all confident with your help, that number will grow more and more.
“You created jobs for the community. We did the math and figured at least fifty new jobs were created through the Student’s Lounge. And you pay for all of it out of pocket. You don’t need to. You’ve already saved the world more than enough times, given millions of dollars to charity. And yet you did this for a group of kids sitting on your front lawn just to get a decent Wi-fi connection.
“There are no words to describe the kindness that takes. The amount of time you’ve put towards this proves it’s so much more than a publicity stunt. Not only do you personally oversee everything, but you stop by weekly, even if just to say hi. You listen to what we have to say. In a world that makes it so easy to ignore teenagers, you put every ounce of effort into doing the complete opposite. And your effort didn’t go unnoticed.” The blond stepped aside and let a redhead girl stand in the middle instead.
“My name is Miranda.” The girl spoke up. “A year ago, I was addicted to heroin and struggling in all of my classes. I was… I was ready to drop out of school altogether, even considered selling my own body just for drug money. But a friend dragged me here and… and I got therapy. A doctor. Food. All things my family struggled to afford. My recovery is still slow going, but thanks to you, I can say I’m in recovery, to begin with. Thank you.” Miranda stepped to the side and a black haired boy took her place.
“I’m Ian. My parents abused me, and I had nowhere to go. Even after coming here to spend my afternoons, I was hesitant to overstay my welcome. But I wasn’t ever judged, and always felt safe here. I was able to work up enough courage to run away and start spending nights here. Eventually, I met a friend here who let me stay with them, but not once did I have to know how it felt to be homeless. This place was my home, the entire time, even now that I sleep somewhere else. You gave me a home. Thank you.”
And so it went on, each kid telling their own version, and Tony wasn’t even ashamed to admit he was openly crying before they even got through ten. And he listened. To every single one. Tried to remember names and important details, make mental notes for future reference. Tony watched and listened, entranced by every story.
The first boy stepped back up. “And I’m Ben. I don’t really have a sob story, but I do know that this place is a home for every single person here. We’re a family of brothers and sisters, and you’re, for lack of better wording, the cool dad. So thank you. From the bottom of our hearts, thank you. So much. We hope our family can grow, and this home will only get better with each day. So while we don’t have any gift, we hope this can stand as one. Our stories are something that you gave us, and we hope by sharing them you can understand how much you mean to all of us.” The boy, Ben, lowered his notecards and smiled. “Thank you.”
Tony stared at them, wiping tears away from his eyes. “You’re all assholes.” He decided. “I am supposed to be a suave billionaire, and here you’ve got me crying like a dumbass.”
The teens all laughed.
“You know what?” Tony clapped his hands together. “This deserves a pizza party. Domino’s is about to hate me. Does anyone have any dietary restrictions? Start writing up a list while I find a phone number.”
“Don’t you have stuff to do?” A brunette girl who Tony remembered to be Cassie asked.
Tony shrugged. “It’s fine, I’ll do it in the morning.”
“Miss Potts has asked for the schematics to be uploaded by midnight,” FRIDAY spoke up.
“Pepper has been working for me long enough to know ‘by midnight’ means by noon the next day. It’s fine.” Tony waved off. “Come on, start writing a list. If I don’t see at least one gluten-free pizza, I’m making you do it again.”
The teens all smiled and started writing and shouting at each other. Tony watched with a happy sigh. They were a family.
the spiderverse crew saying they gave doc ock wrinkles and crows feet to make her look “horrible” is pretty yikes but
imagine fucking up that badly. imagine trying to design an ugly villainess and ending up w an absolute sexpot
She literally is drop dead gorgeous so that backfired.
Tl;dr check the notes someone probably just made this up And tbh this would be very weird from the production designer whose main word on ock is, ““I looked at all the female scientists who were designing colliders, these amazing women around the world who are some of the most brilliant minds on our planet,” he said” and ““This is probably the character that I’m the proudest about. We did something different and memorable that stands out from a production design standpoint,” said Thompson.” https://www.cartoonbrew.com/feature-film/spider-man-into-the-spider-verse-production-design-is-about-character-not-style-168137.html
Again for those scrolling fast: They did not try to make her ugly.
i think voice acting in the future we def be a possibility for him.
but also, he’s technically done voice acting before lkxdlgsdlk have you come across his mr. peanut commercials??