#((when they themselves cannot!))

[strangeracrossthestreet]

credits for the images:

letstalkpalestine

[corpsentry]

pick your battles

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Council of lovefools.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[fairuzfan]

Palestinians are blamed for not being kind enough to their occupiers again and again. For not using the right words to describe them. And then they turn around and try to preach politics to us, how we're "oversimplifying" things. I promise you — we know how the system works better than you do. That is why it is all of our dreams to change it. To continue to play in this system is acceptance of the occupier's logic and practices. We will not accept such a thing because their goals are antithetical to our lives. Do not fall for their propaganda — their goal is to obfuscate the truth with half truths and incomparable circumstances.

[dykeulous]

btw your homophobic republican grandma is not a radfem. no, the conservative woman talking about “womanly brain” & being explicitly anti-abortion isn’t a radfem, either. no… the spiritual woman telling young girls to “return to their divine feminine” & selling out cheap dating instructions & “tips” & promoting the idea of “female-specific” emotions, thoughts, and feelings, most likely isn’t a radfem. your radical christian mom that disowned you for being trans isn’t a radfem. please. PLEASE LEARN what radical feminism is. i am BEGGING you.

[lucabyte]

A belief in Nominative Determinsim

[lunacias]

She's feeling a swell of an emotion at confessing all of this. She works to get it under control. /// Although he can't understand her, HAYWARD, too, is choking up a little at the sound of PAIGE's voice.

[strawberri-draws]

shuichi posting

[thevirgodoll]

to all of my dolls finding themselves:

originality is the "aesthetic" you are looking for. individuality is the "it factor" you are looking for. from your personality, pieces, hair, cadence of voice...even down to your favorite foods or special interests. you aren't supposed to change every aspect about yourself to be more palatable for everyone you meet. that actually makes you BORING!!!

"but so and so is doing this" "but what if people don't like it" ... so??? don't take people disliking your aesthetic as a sign that you need to do something different. like, of course they don't like it or have second thoughts - it's because THEY wouldn't do it themselves because it wouldn't go with THEIR given aesthetic. HELLOO??????

unless they are like minded, stop asking other people to weigh in on the things you CLEARLY like about yourself. especially if it's a core personality trait or interest. your LIFE isn't a group project. your LIFE is not a co-op game.

and yes... people will try to force you to assimilate and follow the crowd by speaking misfortune on your rebrand, your expression, your hobbies, your chosen path out of jealousy. however, that jealousy is lowkey unspoken respect for the fact you have the candor to go against homogeneity.

your authentic dedication to everything that makes you YOU is what will bring you the illustrious life you so fervently seek in the end...not some book a celebrity wrote or a youtube video. it's in YOUR DNA to be a star already in anything you want to do.

there isn't one tutorial on this world wide web that will help you if you don't realize you have the components within you first. there is NOTHING wrong with you!!! you are EVERYTHING that is right already!!!

NEVER conform to the way they think you should shine.

[samble-movedd]

"homura is an evil abuser who wants to control madoka and hates their friends" tired trope, canonically untrue, congrats on falling for the facade put up by a middle schooler.

"homura sees herself as inherently evil and abusive due to her upbringing, past actions, and status as a witch, which is still ongoing even at the end of rebellion" fresh, new, actually closer to canon, doesn't demonize a child for being mentally ill.

[art-is-kayos]

Sight of a Star - Blue-ish Star Ryōshū and Don Quixote

[stagefoureddiediaz]

Calling it now - this episode is going to really play on the buck wanting kids and Eddie and his constant saving children (and his want for more kids) and play on them wanting to give kids what they didn’t get themselves as children - that’s why Eddie is always first in to save kids and why we’re getting a buck and Jee baking scene.

It’s all about parenthood - the desire to be a parent (to have their kid back).

I think the sperm donor arc might be coming back into play for buck - and be part of the issues that arise with tommy - buck wanting kids v Tommy not wanting them etc.

[realbeefman]

house is all id, impulse and reckless behavior and selfishness, and wilson is all superego, overthinking and moral judgement and selflessness, and together they act as the other's ego. house wants to biopsy a patient to stop his own pain, wilson tells him he's going to cross a line if he does. wilson wants to tell the world how he's justified the taboo of euthanasia, house steps in to tell him he'll ruin his life if he does. ultimately, this is why they fall apart when separated from each other, why wilson is miserable when he tries to cope with amber's death without house.

wilson will always try to be more selfish, to care less, wish that he was more like house, and house will always wish the inverse, that he is capable of caring as deeply as wilson does, that his own empathy ran as deep as wilson's. but in the end, they are both incapable of embodying those traits they admire in the other on their own. they can only truly function together.

this is the point in the show, for me, where it becomes clear that house and wilson have been set up as star-crossed lovers. it's only here, in 8 x 21, that they both accept fully who they are to each other. they have both accepted that they will only be able to be happy together, that only through acknowledging how they complete each other will either of them be able to be fulfilled in life. the tragedy is that they have only been able to find life at death. the price for their happiness together is the looming inevitability of wilson's death

anyways. rest in peace sigmund freud you would’ve loved analyzing house md yaoi

[mollysunder]

For once I actually went through the Arcane AMA and found those quotes about Silco's motivation. It's kind of wild to see it in full context.

First, I didn't even know the "dirty little thing" insecurity was an agreed upon perspective, I just thought it was one writer's opinion but no, Christian Linke (Praeco) let us know that was Silco's thing. Ok. I can see how that can tie in to how Silco and Jinx connected, personal insecurities from a hard life.

But then Amanda Overton (leeloo104) goes into detail.

I already know the creative team said they don't think political struggle is "relatable" (yikes), but I've never seen this extra tidbit before!

What do you mean this all so Vander will respect Silco again?!!??!? First of all I could really go in about how Arcane's team seem incapable of having any character fully articulate an actual in-depth explanation about on their grievances with the status quo and what changes should be applied that isn't somehow about familial validation. *looks at Jinx*

Instead, we need unpack how this motivation is at best, very weird, or flat out doesn't make sense. The quote makes it sound like Zaun was fully Silco's idea to win back Vander's love and respect, but Silco said a free Zaun was their shared dream. And regaining Vander's respect seems like a moot point when Silco killed Vander.

Unless Silco knows Vander isn't dead, and that Singed's been slowly turning Vander into Warwick. But then why does he talk to the Vander statue like Vander is dead? I don't doubt Silco wouldn't visit Warwick even in Warwick's confused state. Either way, the Vander that Silco wanted to receive validation from doesn't exist anymore.

I get that they probably wanted to connect Silco's motivation to Jinx's obsession with Vi, but that can be problematic too! It just ends up where Silco and Jinx are written in a way where their search for emotional validation takes precedence over any attempt for them to communicate a coherent and detailed observation on the surrounding politics of their environment.

It would be one thing if they were minor characters, or this was just related to Jinx because she's the youngest in the cast and her story is about understanding who she is. But it's both of them, Silco's at least in his forties, and they're a part of the main cast. On top of that, I'd say their the two most politically influential Zaunites in the cast, and we know NOTHING about what they stand for, what they think the future should look like. Nothing, just vibes.

[lovesickeros]

☆ from gold, i am undone

{☆} characters tsaritsa {☆} notes cult au, yandere, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings blood, implied self harm, implied suicide attempts {☆} word count 0.9k

You weren't meant to be here.

You can feel it in the marrow of your bones– it weighs you down like heavy shackles, gold bleeding from your pores until it is all you know. The taste of ichor on your tongue, the warmth of its invasion beneath your skin, that gleam of gold that lingers in the color of your eyes like specks of dust.

You are changed, and you are whole.

But you are so unbearably broken.

A shattered piece of porcelain hastily put back together with gold to fill the cracks.

Decoration, in the end, for you are not fit to walk as "mortals" do. This gold had filled every empty crevice of your body, spilled the red into your frantic hands and made you bleed so it's callous gold could make room inside your body. It has taken from you many things, given many more, but you scratch and bite and tear until it drips onto the floor and even then it never leaves. It stains the floor no matter how hard you scrub– a permanent reminder of the sickening gold that molds you into something that used to look like you– that does look like you. Desecrated, yet so horribly divine.

All you see is a monster.

Something new, something old.

A hollowed out shell, wounds left to rot and fester until you suited the image of the Creator they bore upon statues and murals, the Creator worshiped in prayers spoken in hushed whispers and joyous chants praising your magnificence.

But what magnificence is there in detachment? What joy is there to be found in carving a God out of a human? They kneel like lambs before the shepherd, but the flock has made you– and you want to unmake them. Unweave the tapestry of their being stitch by stitch until it all falls apart and the world knows the cost of casting molten gold into the shape of a human, knows the price that has been left unpaid.

You want to take it from them. Watch them squabble and pray, blind sheep stepping into the wolf's open maw– to tear the seams of their being until the world is unwound by your heavy hands.

But you know it will not satisfy you.

Nothing does anymore.

You are no wolf. Only the shepherd who guides.

And with every drop of blood spilled, they ripped the humanity from your very bones until your body was the cast in which they made something anew– something gold, something horrific. A monster as much a God, a beast as much a man.

There is nothing left but absolute authority.

You try again and again to mend this act of desecration, to peel back the outer shell and rend the gold from your marrow– but your body cannot, will not, die. It mends itself back into place no matter how damaged, and all you feel is the uncomfortable tug of your body forcing itself to live. You cannot die, but were you ever truly alive at all?

Yet with every cycle, you know only one constant besides the thrum of golden ichor in your veins– cold.

Ice that burns, ice that spreads and festers and devours. Claws that pull you apart until the gold runs thick, teeth that burrow into your bones and rip it out from the source..eyes that witness the fall of a God with reverence– hungering, all consuming reverence.

You welcome it.

It is the first time you felt pain since you were cast into an image of a being you were not meant to be. The sting of cold upon your skin makes you shiver, your body tries to reject it, but you want to welcome it– for a brief moment that lasts only as long as it takes for you to blink, you see the glint of something familiar in the reflection of her empty eyes. Something achingly, horribly familiar– something human, all the more terrifying for it.

Even when Teyvat itself crumples like paper beneath the weight of her sins – of this desecration anew, this wretched heresy – you allow her hands to do it again. You grasp her hands in yours like chains, willing her to shackle you, willing her to pull you apart and make you whole again. To break you until the gold cannot put you back together again.

You long, each time, for those eyes like spears that lodge into your skin– burrow deep and sting deeper, making gold flow like water. You long for the biting tongue, the cutting words and those teeth like weapons– long to see the spite and anger and impure disgust aimed at the woman of silver who leads you down a hall that ends only in damnation. You follow each time like the lamb led astray by the wolf, but you do not wail in betrayal when she sinks her teeth into your throat and devours you whole.

For is it a sin if you welcome it? Has their God sinned, in the eyes of the flock, for welcoming such heresy with open arms? For allowing the wolf into their home?

Is it a sin to be broken beneath the only hands that have loved you?

Is it a sin to want to love, too, those hands and teeth stained in gold?

Then you shall be damned, you swear it. Damned, but gold no more.

For death is the closest you have ever felt to being human.

[keicordelle]

I'd been worried that the Haurchefant scene wouldn't hit as hard in French given how much the English made me cry, but damned if this doesn't hurt just as much, just in a different way

[TR: Heroes don't have the right to be sad...]

[TR: But you, you have such a nice smile. Try not to forget... mine...]