#define humanity

[uovoc]

my sister and I both agree that one of the best parts about china was how there's food everywhere. And not just, like, bags of chips, but real hot, cooked, tasty food. You hike to the top of a mountain and there's a guy with a cart selling chicken skewers and freshly steamed corn on the cob. When you hike to the top of a mountain in america, what do you get? Nothing. An uninterrupted view of nature. Where did we go wrong as a country

[nikoisme]

Thinking about giving post part 43 John shorter hair because,,, y'know. trans allegory and also for that feeling of control over yourself

[cheeseanonioncrisps]

Emotional scene from Muppets Star Trek.

[rosefires20]

My brainrot today is thinking about just how incredible for a character Eowyn is.

Genuinely. The series might not have many female characters but the ones we do get go so fucking hard.

To me, Eowyn is literally the definition of defining being a woman for oneself. She rejects the roles she is given despite acknlowdging the importance and its mostly because she knows part of the reason is that she is a woman.

The reason why she is obsessed with Aragorn isn't because she loves him but because she wants what he has. She wants the freedom and courage and bravery that Aragorn has at every turn. She literally has multiple conversations during the Two Towers about how what she fears most is a cage. All this girl wants is the freedom to be and not be forced into a role. The best thing is that she literally gets that.

The segment of Return of the King about Eowyn and Faramir is literally about her piecing together what she truly wants. She doesn't want Aragorn. She wants freedom and the ability to choose. Faramir does nothing but encourage that in her. Their love story is literally one of the healthiest love stories I've seen in a long time because at the heart of it, their love is a place to return home to for both parties. Both go off to lead and help their people for a considerable amount of time before returning to each other but that does not diminish their bond. Even Faramir, I believe, falls in love with her bravery and dedication to her loved ones. The reason she went to Pelenor Fields and Gondor with the troops of Rohan was because she had things she wanted to fight for. She wanted to fight for herself, her people, and her loved ones. She is the one who protects Theoden after he is killed so that his body gets the treatment it deserves. She encourages Merry and helps him go to the battle because she sees her struggle in Merry. They feel helpless standing around when there are things to be doing.

Let's also not forget the fact that she was around Grima Wormtounge just as much as the King was. She was exposed to the same poison and awful words that eroded the king. It's even implied that her care for him is part of the reason why Theoden was savable when Gandalf showed up. She had the same power and bravery as everyone else even if she didn't see it in herself.

Then at the end of the day, SHE decides where she wants to go and what path she wants to walk. She walked the path of a warrior. The path of a princess/ruler. The path of a caretaker. But in the end she decides which elements truly mean something to her outside of gender definitions. That is what makes her character so incredible to me. In this she literally kills one of the biggest enemies in that battle with such a badass line.

[redysetdare]

Everytime I hear someone say "love is what makes us human"I think of that one guy who was trying to describe humanity and said humans were featherless bipedals and another guy responded to that claim by bringing in a plucked chicken saying "BEHOLD A MAN"

Like I could hold up a million animal species and say "BEHOLD A HUMAN" because they feel love. Something that isn't just a human experience.

The point being that describing a group based solely off a few features or emotions makes the definition too broad to claim that it is what makes that species said species.

Saying humans are humans cause they have no fur would include furless animals. Same with saying love is what defines humanity. Like either you think elephants don't feel love or elephants are human. Your dog doesn't actually love you or your dog is human.

You can't use vague overly broad concepts to define humans as a species. So maybe stop trying to dehumanize people for not feeling the same emotion as you in the same way you do?

[sysig]

How far did you get? (Patreon)

[posi-pan]

wayne brady is pansexual!!! 💗💛💙🥳

i’m pansexual. in doing my research, both with myself and just with the world, i couldn’t say if i was bisexual, because i had to really see what that was, especially because i really have not gotten a chance to act on anything. so, i came to pansexual because — and i know that i’m completely messing up the dictionary meaning — but to me, pan means being able to be attracted to anyone who identifies as gay, straight, bi, transsexual or non-binary. being able to be attracted across the board. and, i think, at least for me for right now, that is the proper place. i took pan to mean that not only can i be attracted to any of these people or types physically, but i could be attracted to the person that is there. i’ve dealt with the shame. a shame cake, just eating it every single day — and then worried about… people finding out. i’ve always had a wonderful community of friends who are in the lgbtq+ community, people that i’ve grown up with in shows, gays and lesbians, and, later in life, my trans relatives and my niece. i’ve always had that community, but i've always felt like a sham because i wasn’t being forthcoming with myself. i could speak out about black issues because i can’t hide that. and you can play at being an ally, but until the day that you can truly say, “this is who i am, and i wanna stand next to you,” that's not… i always wanted that day to come. i’ve told myself in the past, also, nobody needs to know my personal business. the world can absolutely go without knowing that wayne identifies as pan. but that gave me license to still live in the shadows and to be secretive. what does that feel like to actually not be shameful, to not feel like, “oh, i can’t be part of this conversation because i’m lying?” i had to break that behavior. i’m now trying to be the most wayne brady i can be. i don’t know about most, actually. i’m still coming together. but if i’m healthy, then i can go onstage at let’s make a deal and be the best wayne brady that everybody wants and expects. i can be the best dad that maile needs. i can be the best friend to mandie, the best son to my mother, and one day, the best partner to someone, because i’m doing this for me. not dating yet though! [laughs] i am single, but it’s not about being with someone right now. i’ve got some work to do still. then, wayne as a single, open-minded pansexual can make a decision and be free and open to other people.

i included more quotes from the article than just strictly pan related because it’s quite touching. good for him!!!! 🌈👏🥰

[palossssssand]

I hit 'em with the human beam

[boxheadpaint]

truly shout out to fat and hair

[lovesickeros]

☆ de fontaine

{☆} characters furina {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings angst, suicidal thoughts, hurt / no comfort {☆} word count 1.4k

This wasn't fair. This wasn't fair. This wasn't fair!

She thought, for one moment, she could put the mask down and breathe – for one moment of daydreaming, she thought she could just be Furina. She thought she would finally get to live the live she should've had in the first place, the life she threw away to play God to an audience who saw her as nothing but a circus animal, dancing to their whims. Furina just wanted to be selfish for one brief and fleeting moment..and it was gone before she could even grasp it in her hand. A comet soaring past far out of her reach.

She can barely keep her hands from violently shaking as she looks down at them – broken and bloody and more a corpse then a person – and she feels so numb she can't even feel the rain pelting against her back. None of this is fair, she wants to scream, why is it always me? But her voice is silent beneath the torrent of rain. She wonders if the ocean would take her if she sank into it's depths – just for a moment, she wonders how it would feel to finally be able to sleep at ease.

Furina is tired.

But Furina is nothing if not useful, isn't she?

So she forces her feet to move, dragging against the stone beneath her heels, and drags their bloodied body into the nearest empty building, letting the rain do the work of washing away the smeared blood following her path. The smell makes her feel sick, the feeling of it sticking to her hands and gloves makes her lightheaded, but she persists. Because Furina is useful, because Furina won't let them die out in the rain, because Furina won't stand by and just let them rot on the streets like some..pest.

Furina wants to go home. She wants to sleep and she isn't she if she wants to wake up, this time. But she keeps going anyway.

Because it's all she's ever done, and the habit sticks.

An Archon she may not be, not anymore, but the expectations of five hundred years still linger like eyes on the inside of her skull. They watch her, pry and prod at her thoughts, mocking laughter and judging eyes following her as she forces herself to dance to the song they weave with glee. Furina never stepped off that stage – she's still there, she thinks, watching the crowd stare at her in disdain as the curtain call looms above her like a guillotine. She still hears Neuvillette deliver her damnation and salvation with a trembling voice, still feels her hair stand on end when electro crackled like the crack of the whip, Clorinde's blade aimed at her like a loaded gun.

She's trapped on that stage and she never left, not really.

She hates it. She thinks she hates them, but it's not their fault. They didn't ask for this, didn't ask for everyone to turn against them, didn't ask for her to save them. Neither did she..yet here they are, she thinks.

She tries to tell herself she's in control this time, though. She can stop performing her part in this horrible, bloody play any time she wants. It makes her feel better, just for a little while, if she convinces herself she's still Furina, painfully human.

And Furina has always been good at lying.

It's the believing that's the hard part.

There isn't time for her to wallow in her own self pity, though. They're still bleeding out onto the dusty, creaky floorboards of some random, broken down house and she's just standing there as the blood stains the wood. She can fix it – she's good at fixing things. She's done nothing but fix things – try to, anyway – for five hundred years. She can fix a little wound, how hard could it be? Her hands are clenched so tight they ache as she kneels down, wincing at the creak of the floorboards beneath her heels– she hesitates just long enough to wonder if she's making a mistake before she peels away just enough of the outer layer of their clothes to see the deep, bloody gash across their chest. She tries not to think about it – it's deep, too deep, and she feels dizzy just looking at it, but she's handled worse, right?

Furina can fix it. That's what she's good at.

She doesn't feel so confident when she tries to wrack her brain for..something. Five hundred years, and a little wound stumps her? No, she had to have learned something, right? She's decidedly not trying to buy time because she's panicking, parsing through hundreds of years of memories like flipping through a book. Furina isn't made for this, not really – she's running on nothing but adrenaline and she's really not sure what she's doing, but she's trying. And just like before, it won't be enough, will it?

She'll fall short again – she'll be too late to fix it before she's alone again.

Furina was an Archon..used to be. What use would she have for that sort of knowledge? Which makes her predicament all the more harrowing and bleak. What was she supposed to do?

Furina had heard it first hand, that vitriol in Neuvillette's voice. She isn't sure she's ever heard him that..angry before. She's not sure he would listen to her if she tried, either. And that scares her more then anything. All of Fontaine was up in arms about this..imposter, yet here she was, staring down at them bleeding out in front of her, and she was trying to save them.

Why? Why is she throwing away her only chance at normalcy for a fraud? Why didn't she just turn them in?

They were dying – that should've been a good thing, shouldn't it? So why didn't it feel like it?

"Why you?" Her voice breaks as she speaks in harsh tones, grabbing the front of their shirt in trembling, bloodied hands. "Why now?" She wants to scream, to demand answers they can't give, to claw back the reprieve she was promised after five hundred years of agony..and all she can do is sob into their chest, pleading for an answer that will not come. "Why me?"

Silence is their answer, and it hangs heavy on her trembling shoulders as she cries.

Of course they don't, she thinks bitterly, no one has ever answered her pleas spoken in hushed sobs. Not her other self and certainly not them.

Furina has always been alone. Furina will always be alone.

Because Furina never left that stage, never left that moment when she looked at herself in the mirror and took up a mantle too heavy for her to bear. She always finds her way back eventually. There's no one on the other side anymore – she stands alone on a stage, waiting for an inevitable end she isn't sure will come.

"Please," She pleads through tears and choked sobs, clinging to them like they are all that keeps her from sinking. "Please don't leave me, too." The words burn on her tongue – how pathetic is she that she craves companionship from the bloodied body of the imposter? Perhaps she's truly lost her mind after all these years..perhaps she's finally gone mad. She must have.

But their presence is like the first feeling of gentle warmth upon her skin as the sun crests the horizon, like the gentle lap of tides along her heels, the sway of branches and leaves as the wind blows through them like an instrument all it's own. They are the soothing sound of rain against the window as she watches the dreary skies in fond longing, the first bloom of spring as color blooms upon the landscape like paint had been spilled across the hills and valleys.

They are like the faint spark she carefully nurtures and stokes, so fragile even the smallest wind could blow it out like a candle. She cradles it within her palms, pleads with whoever will listen – prays that someone finally listens, because if not for her, then for them.

She's failed to protect too much already, let too many people with so much trust in her fall between the cracks of her fingers like grains of sand. She won't let them go – she can't.

If nothing else, if she couldn't be saved when she begged for salvation from that five hundred year long agony, even if she never got that chance..

Furina will make sure they do.

[fresanita]

Angel Dust Turns Human - Pg2

Part 1

I'm so sorry about the quality, idk what size the canvas should be when it comes to comics, this is technically my 1st one☹️. I PRAY it doesn't look crappy on other people's end💔

Anyways, I had drawn these 2 pages (technically 4ish with how I spread them out) within 3-2 days bc I just rlly wanted the idea to get done already🤲 Sorry if the pacing wasn't that good when I introduced Alastor - again, I don't know how to convey that in 'comic form' (?) since this is my 1st, but I tried😔 (it probably needed more frames/pics but I was rlly lazy).

If you couldn't tell (☹️), Alastor & Angel Dust have some backstory (!!!) - Alastor didn't realize until he saw his human form, which looks very different from his Hell form. The majority of this is in Angel's pov, so this is kinda unreliable narrator, in a way. I need to mention, idk if anyone's written/drawn anything w a human in Hell, but my first thought was they'd definitely pass out from the heat usually portrayed - hence the heat exhaustion; Angel kinda passes out before he could fully react. Btw, I don't like how I drew Angel on pg6 so let's ignore it🙏

Also, Alastor pronounces his name as "Antoní", or An-tone-nee, with emphasis on the last sylabel, which is why it's spelled with an accented "i" - I just forgot to use that when I wrote the dialouge💔

My fav thing to draw was him holding Angel's face and carrying him, Parental Alastor fans RISE✊️!

[mmelolabelle]

I cannot believe people were so pissy about Assad’s casting as Armand, look at him —

The man looks like every homo-repressed renaissance painter’s wet dream - like 10/10 would paint him as Jesus or several angels into as many frescoes as possible.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Bestie Deficiency

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[the-knife-consumer]

Hocotatians are sloth/mole/gibbon thing. To me

[uncanny-tranny]

The obsession with "natural = good" isn't truly rooted in what is "natural" but is rooted in complex politics based on what is deemed "natural" by others - those in power. The whole "natural is pure, is right, is morally just" has not historically applied to the marginalized because of our supposed proximity to the "unnatural." Our bodies, our behaviour, our lives and souls will continuously be defined as "unnatural" so long as "natural" remains seen as pure and godly, so long as "natural" is equal to power.

[buccellato]

Having a normal one thinking about tristamp Knives considering himself a "proper" independent in comparison to Vash, but all of the traits he is shown valuing as a plant are the things that humans would value in a production plant, not a plant that exists separately from humanity. The early development of his powers, the fact that he doesn't need fuel (food or water) for replenishing his energy? Ideal for something that a human values for production! Plus he can't communicate with the higher dimension in the same way Vash does, he can only draw energy to produce things—and we know from the fight in the finale Vash is pretty evenly matched even while holding back (and by extension, we know that Vash is more baseline powerful than Knives in Trimax). But by all measures, Vash is less "useful" as a plant to No Man Land's current production capabilities compared to Knives (who could pretty much be a one-man factory).

Anyways I'm not going anywhere specific with this. I'm tired and running on fumes, just rotating things in my brain.