human defenses

touched up some old drawings bc im excited about the new short!! i know some people are less than thrilled and like listen i get the frustration but no amount of spawn camping or bad potgs will stop me liking this adorable bird-loving dreamworks death machine so

heres bastion being a friend

This is what a blessing looks like. 

so I woke up this morning to quickly check tumblr and I FOUND @hitamory‘s posts of an Ajin mp100 AU????????????????????


anonymous asked:

Israel never dehumanized anyone. The "Palestinians", on the other hand, dehumanize Jews from the womb, teaching hate in schools, making Jewish blood cheaper than water. Talk to me when Hamas or Fatah decriminalize marijuana or homosexuality.

Israel never dehumanized anyone? Ok then let’s take a look at some statements made by Israel’s leaders and founders. 

  • Palestinians are beasts, they are not human.” - Deputy Minister of Defense, Eli Ben-Dahan
  • The Palestinians are like crocodiles, the more you give them meat, they want more.” - Ehud Barak, when he was Prime Minister of Israel
  • The Palestinians are beasts walking on two legs.” - Menahim Begin, Former Prime Minister of Israel 
  • When we have settled the land, all the Palestinians will be able to do about it will be to scurry around like drugged cockroaches in a bottle.“ - Rafael Eitan, Former Chief of Staff of the Israeli Defence Forces
  • We declare openly that the Arabs have no right to settle on even one centimeter of Eretz Israel… Force is all they do or ever will understand. We shall use the ultimate force until the Palestinians come crawling to us on all fours.“ - Rafael Eitan, Former Chief of Staff of the Israeli Defense Forces 
  • There was no such thing as Palestinians, they never existed.” -Golda Maier, Former Israeli Prime Minister 
  • “We shall reduce the [Palestinian] Arab population to a community of woodcutters and waiters.” - Uri Lubrani, Former Israeli Prime Minister’s special adviser
  • We have to kill all the Palestinians unless they are resigned to live here as slaves.” - Shlomo Lahat, former mayor of Tel Aviv
Humans Are Weird

Another “humans are strange and confusing creatures” idea came to me. Our smell. “What about our smell, Sab?” I hear you ask, “Are you saying we would smell bad?” Allow me to answer your question with another question. What of the aliens who don’t rely on sight? (And, why? Do you think you smell bad?).

Imagine, if you please, a species of aliens, who, not unlike the Earth bat or mole, has very poor eyesight. One way they could get around is through superior hearing; another way they could recognize one another is through smell. But what do humans have to do with this? Perfume. How confused would those aliens be, to be walking around the ship when all of a sudden they smell someone unfamiliar.

“Who are you?” asked Draxonis, in his gruff Thelonian voice (Thelonians, from Thelonis, have remarkable senses; sight isn’t one of them, unfortunately). Human Steve stopped in the hallway and glanced around; was he talking to him? “It’s me, Drax.” Human Steve replied. “It sounds like Human Steve, Draxonis said defensively, but Human Steve has never smelled so… musky.” Human Steve sniffed his collar and chuckled. “New perfume, buddy, sorry.” He patted Draxonis’ shoulder playfully and continued on his merry way. Draxonis had heard of “perfume”, humans and Delfini used it to artificially alter their odour. However, the Delfini only seemed to use it during important rituals or traditional ceremonies; flowery smells were only used at Pelona, for example (the annual Shedding Of The Skin, a very joyous time of year for young Delfini). But there were no Delfini on board. Humans seemed to use it daily, without much regard as to what the smell was. It only served to confuse and disorient poor Thelonian crew members like Draxonis.

Perfumed soaps, laundry detergent, deodorant, perfume, fabric softener, diet, shampoo, conditioner… changing but one of these can drastically alter a person’s smell. The possibilities are endless.

Fic: Bruises and Blush

Title: Bruises and Blush

Author: Billowsandbreeze

Rating: T for fluff, insinuating flirtations, and swearing.

Pairing: Jaal Ama Darav x Sierra Ryder

Summary: Jaal observes the crew and finds a comforting commonality.

Author’s notes: Just a fun little drabble to explore Jaal’s curiosity and growing affection for Sierra and the crew. Plus, the start of some inviting flirtation. Takes place when the Tempest first goes to Voeld. Huge thanks to @intergalactix for looking this over and letting me borrow the evolution line she suggested for Vetra.

“Fuck, that was cold. I can’t even feel my face anymore.”

Jaal chuckles at Liam’s words as the cargo bay doors close behind them. He’d had no idea the humans would be so…sensitive to Voeld’s climate, bundling their bodies almost beyond recognition to combat the elements. But even the other aliens—the Turian, Vetra, and the Krogan, Drack—had complained when they had ventured out into the snow. Perhaps the Milky Way was a much warmer galaxy than he had originally considered.

“My balls are frozen solid,” Drack says with a shake of his armor, sloughing off the ice stuck between the metal joints.

Vetra laughs over her shoulder. “It’s not like you need them anymore.”

Drack grumbles, but he’s grinning. “You always need a quad.”

Jaal’s lips quirk up as he sets down his rifle and begins to unfasten his armor. This new crew is bemusing, their comfortable manner with one another surprising him time and time again. At first, he hadn’t known what to make of them, all different in looks and demeanor. But the more he has observed, the more he sees the crafted workings underneath—the ties and relationships that allow them to function as a team. They are still strange and their customs foreign, but he thinks he’s beginning to understand.

There’s a muffled hiss, and his eyes slide to his left. The Pathfinder is unbuckling her suit, a pained scowl on her face.

“Are you injured?” He asks her in concern.

She shakes her head and smiles. “Nothing serious. Just a stray shot to the ribs.” Her smile turns quickly into a grimace as she peels away the underlining of her armor.

Jaal’s eyes widen.

The newly exposed skin on her abdomen is a sheer explosion of color—mottled blues and purples and a deep slash of green—that spreads halfway down to her hip.

“Ouch,” Vetra says, coming closer and bending down to inspect the Pathfinder’s side. Jaal blinks in surprise as the Turian pokes the skin with a sharp talon and laughs at Ryder’s flinch. “Human evolution could’ve used a few more armored plates, eh, Pathfinder?”

Ryder brushes Vetra’s hands away with a scoffing breath. “We make up for it in other ways,” she says, her brows raising.

Drack’s voice booms in amusement. “You wouldn’t survive otherwise! Humans are so…squishy.”

“Only compared to your thick skull,” Liam chimes in from across the way, leaning on a crate and crossing his arms.

Affectionate laughter soon fills the space. They are…teasing each other, Jaal realizes with a smile. It is something he can grasp, a…commonality between them so recognizable that he finds it infinitely pleasing. This form of bonding, so much like his sisters pulling at his fringe and comparing him, unflatteringly, to a kaerkyn, is finally something he can understand.

Ryder turns to him with a grin, and, emboldened, he finds his eyes drawn once more to her skin.

“Do humans often change color?” he asks, lifting a hand toward a deeply-shaded spot of purple.

“Only if you’re doing it right!” Peebee calls down as she passes by from above.

Jaal frowns, confused, but he notices Liam roll his eyes and Ryder chuckle.

Ah, another joke to figure out.

“It’s just a bruise,” Ryder says, turning to her locker, but she looks at him from the corner of her eye. “Do angara not get bruises when they get injured?”

Now he understands. The discoloration is a result of trauma.

“No,” he says. “When we are hurt, our skin hardens, protecting the vulnerability beneath.”

Her brows raise. “Really?” She eyes him speculatively, as if searching for proof of his words, and he shifts his feet, suddenly wanting to blush beneath her gaze.

Clearing his throat, he nods. “I take it humans have no such defense.”

“Unfortunately not.” She slides a thin shirt over her head, covering the bruise and the rest of her unblemished skin.

He leans closer, his voice lowering for her ears alone. “Peebee’s words. What do they mean? What must I ‘do right’ to see you change more?”

He meant it innocently enough, but he watches, fascinated, as her skin turns a brilliant shade of pink before his eyes. She is blushing, he decides, her cheeks a particularly dark red.

A small laugh escapes her mouth, and even though he thinks she is embarrassed, Ryder meets his gaze with a smirk.

“Now, Jaal,” she says, her voice quiet and teasing. “You’re just going to have to figure that one out for yourself.”

He leans back, delightfully surprised. He is almost sure she is flirting with him, and curiously, he finds his body’s natural current responding, charging higher at the very idea.

“Are you…” He pauses, trying to find the right words to express his interest. “…permitting me to do so?”

She simply smiles at him, coy—a frustratingly unclear indication of her desires. But then he considers that perhaps she is not free to show herself more plainly, not in her current role as their leader.

Stashing her pistol into her locker, Ryder steps back and gives him a slight nod. “See you around, Jaal.”

And then she is gone, climbing the ladder toward the helm of the ship. He stares after her, long after she has disappeared from sight. It is Liam settling next to him that draws him back to the present.

“Hey, man, you wanna work on a project with me?”

His words are so open and hopeful that Jaal feels himself instantly at peace. Yes, out of all of them, Liam reminds him the most of home.

Nodding, Jaal clasps him on the shoulder and, for now, pushes his burning curiosity at Ryder’s flirtations to the back of his thoughts. “Of course, my friend! What do you have in mind?”

Let the world know that in Mexico, good people are fighting for their lives against the corrupt goverment and the organized crime -wich is the same shit-  Let the world know that the good people in Mexico are dying at this very moment. 


Something I’ve noticed in a lot of reviews of Paterson is that, by and large, critics don’t really seem to get Laura.  More specifically, it seems like they don’t get why she’s worthy of respect or admiration.  They know that Paterson (the character) respects her; they know that Paterson (the film) respects her, but they can’t seem to figure out just why.  Why is Laura, with her cupcakes and her guitar and her black and white everything so important to our bus-driving poet?

I mean, gosh, it’s almost like what she’s doing is somehow actual real art.  Like she has a genuine eye for composition and a real talent for what she’s doing, like she picks up new skills quickly and incorporates them into the overall work of art that is her life without ever compromising who she is.

I don’t know; it just puts me in mind of some of the conversations I bumbled into this weekend, about what art is and how broad it actually is and what it can encompass and what it should encompass.

(And also, although we didn’t get into that very much over the weekend – how much what we see as “art” and “artistry” and who we see as “artists” depends on things like gender, and race, and class.  And would we, perhaps, take Laura more seriously if he were Laurence, and how would skeptical would we be of Paterson’s talents if she were – well, she.)

And it’s interesting and also very frustrating, because I don’t know that the movie could have done any more to show that Laura is Paterson’s equal.  Certainly Paterson himself treats her with the exact same respect and admiration that he treats the other artists he encounters.  And yes, she may not be the best at making pies, but she has her successes, too, and all of the artists we meet over the course of the film are works in progress. 

But she’s a woman.  A woman working in cupcakes and curtains and that’s not really art, is it?

Is it?

Date a girl who will take care of you while you’re sick. Date a girl with rows of sharp teeth. Date a girl who works long hours at the hospital. Date a girl who prefers to feed on fish, shrimp, and squid, but can crush shellfish and coral with her strong jaws. Date a girl who is a talented medical professional. Date a girl who is mostly harmless to humans, but will bite defensively if stepped on or bothered by divers. Date a nurse shark.

In this fandom we really have to stop mistaking acknowledgement for approval or fondness, and defense of humanity for stanning.

I don’t have an interest in Kendall Jenner’s life or career. However, I acknowledge that she is present in Harry ’s life, to the extent that he, as an adult by 5 years now, hangs out with her around his mother. I don’t have to like or dislike her for that to be true; my liking her would not make her any more present than she is, and my disliking of her would not make her any less present than she is.

My acknowledgement that she is in Harry’s life is not an endorsement of her in any way; my endorsement of her would be. If you don’t like her, fine; if you don’t like that she is a part of Harry ’s life, fine; but the solution to that would be to remove yourself from the position to observe, not the erasure of her from his life. He’s a big boy, and he already has a mother.


The Gulabi Gang is an extraordinary women’s movement formed in 2006 by Sampat Pal Devi in the Banda District of Uttar Pradesh in Northern India. This region is one of the poorest districts in the country and is marked by a deeply patriarchal culture, rigid caste divisions, female illiteracy, domestic violence, child labour, child marraiges and dowry demands. The women’s group is popularly known as Gulabi or ‘Pink’ Gang because the members wear bright pink saris and wield bamboo sticks. Sampat says, “We are not a gang in the usual sense of the term, we are a gang for justice.”

The Gulabi Gang was initially intended to punish oppressive husbands, fathers and brothers, and combat domestic violence and desertion. The members of the gang would accost male offenders and prevail upon them to see reason. The more serious offenders were publicly shamed when they refused to listen or relent. Sometimes the women resorted to their lathis, if the men resorted to use of force.

Today, the Gulabi Gang has tens of thousands of women members, several male supporters and many successful interventions to their credit. Whether it is ensuring proper public distibution of food-grains to people below the poverty line, or disbursement of pension to elderly widows who have no birth certificate to prove their age, or preventing abuse of women and children, the Pink sisterhood is in the forefront, bringing about system changes by adopting the simplest of methods - direct action and confrontation.

Although the group’s interventions are mostly on behalf of women, they are increasingly called upon by men to challenge not only male authority over women, but all human rights abuses inflicted on the weak.


Enchanted // Moon Bin


the prompt: may I please request the mermaid/enchanted voice au with Moonbin of Astro??
(from this au) “I’m a mermaid/merman, and you’ve fallen in love with my voice. How do I break it to you that you don’t actually love me, you’re just enchanted?”

words: 3922

category: fluff + angst

author note: have you guys heard the new astro songs yet? the aroha song is so sweet! for this scenario i decided to make moonbin the mermaid rather than the reader, which i feel like was the best decision bc now i’m in love with this mermaid au. also, i might do a spin-off of this for eunwoo?? or a sequel for bin?? probably both?? anyway, pls enjoy merman bin~

- destinee

Originally posted by starryeunwoo

Keep reading