The sick reality is that many of the renowned academics and writers among Gaza's thousands of martyrs will, in twenty years time, be quoted and memorialised by the same universities and institutions that have denigrated them and enabled their slaughter.
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Very excited to finally share the art I did for @mculadieszine! I did the ladies of Agents of SHIELD–Jemma Simmons, Melinda May, Daisy Johnson, Bobbi Morse, and Elena Rodriguez. I was so honored to be a part of this project and had so much fun working on this piece!
Commissions
Redbubble
Instagram
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aisha and anne
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more girl rivalries in fiction should end in them having sex with eachother
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ever since i was a little girl i knew i wanted to look at photos of benito mussolini hanging upside down and giggle
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“Il ventennio fascista non fu, come oggi qualche sciagurato immemore figura di credere, un ventennio di ordine e di grandezza nazionale: fu un ventennio di sconcio illegalismo, di umiliazione, di corrosione morale, di soffocazione quotidiana, di sorda e sotterranea disgregazione civile. Non si combatteva più sulle piazze, dove gli squadristi avevano ormai bruciato ogni simbolo di libertà, ma si resisteva in segreto, nelle tipografie clandestine dalle quali fino dal 1925 cominciarono a uscire i primi foglietti alla macchia, nelle prigioni, tra i confinati, tra i reclusi, tra i fuorusciti. Venti anni di Resistenza sorda, ma era resistenza anche quella: e forse la più difficile, la più dura e la più sconsolata. Vent’anni: e alla fine la guerra partigiana scoppiò come una miracolosa esplosione. E il 25 aprile finalmente i vecchi conti col fascismo furono saldati: e la partita conclusa per sempre. Vittoria contro noi stessi: aver ritrovato dentro noi stessi la dignità dell’uomo. Questo fu il significato morale della Resistenza: questa fu la fiamma miracolosa della Resistenza.””
— Piero Calamandrei
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currently enduring the worst kind of suffering (i am once again hyperfixating on characters with barely any content at all on ao3 and any other platform known to humankind)
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thinkin about the chosen one story told from the pov of the person standing next to them again. thinkin about the one who has to stand by and watch the chosen one become a weapon, a sacrifice, an offering to the machinations of plot and can do nothing but make sure they’re fed and rested and soothe them when they wake up screaming from nightmares. thinkin about the fierce devotion that has to exist to follow someone to the end of the world just so they don’t have to die alone. thinkin about the terror they’d feel every step of the journey knowing it’s not their place to change how the story plays out. thinkin thinkin thinkin.
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Can't let British people have air conditioning because first they'd call it something twee like "the climate fixer" and then in 20 years they'll call it "the climb" or "the climmy"
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Once Upon A Time Season 4
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