high school love birds
if you dont know who the girl is, click here
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So many of you are genuinely monsters and you think you're the heroes. Forgive me for not believing that any of you ever actually gave a shit about Palestinians, as you sit here in your pro-hamas rallies with swastika flags while you chant "gas the jews!" and tear down posters of kidnapped hostages. You glorify Hamas, the terrorist organization that uses and abuses Palestinians, that shoots them if they try to evacuate from zones that Israel has warned they're going to strike.
You have been silent for decades while Lebanon and Jordan keep their Palestinian population in refugee camps. You have been silent when no other neighboring country has given Palestinians citizenship status that would enable them to live a comfortable, normal life. You were silent when Palestinian Islamic Jihad and Hamas rockets misfire and kill innocent Palestinians. You were silent when Hamas steals aid meant for civilians. You were silent when Hamas dug up water pipes from the ground so that they could make more rockets.
If you were silent then, you're using Palestinians as a mask for your Jew-hatred. If you want to really advocate for Palestinians, keep the same energy for every country, not just the only Jewish state, and try to educate yourself on what Israelis have been doing to try to help Palestinians, because I promise you it's way more than you've ever done in your life.
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A frustrating development with the growing lack of reading comprehension I've personally noticed is an emerging fervor of insisting things aren't canon unless they are explicitly stated beyond all reasonable doubt.
I can not emphasize enough how harmful a mindset this is to have. Yes, it's wonderful to have characters outright say "I'm trans," but to deny a character's identity for not saying that is dangerous.
Plenty of real people prefer not to use specific labels. Historically, people didn't have our modern terms or modes of expression. Many modern cultures don't use these terms, either, and plenty of people within those that do can't safely openly identify.
If the only representation you accept as canon is within modern (and let's be honest, wealthy white able-bodied American) standards, then you are denying yourself and others a huge amount of representation and seriously limiting the media around you.
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this is sort of pathetic, but when you were younger, you were sort of puzzled by the cartoon representations of fathers: how a kid would be outside with a mitt, waiting to play catch.
it's not that your father never played catch with you, but you also didn't like when he did. something about a hard ball coming quickly towards your face doesn't seem exciting. not that you'd ever say you don't trust him. you trust him, right?
it's not like he never tried to teach you anything. or never tried to parent. on rare days, a strange person would walk in your father's skin. bright, happy, magnificent. this version of your father was so cheerful and charismatic that you would do anything to keep him. and this is the version of your father that would laugh and gently coax you try again. this is the version of your father that would break down the small elements of a problem and point them out so you have an easier time with them.
as a kid, those days happened more often. but somewhere around 11, you started being too much of a person, and he was often cross about it. when he'd try to sit you down to learn something, you spent the whole time with your shoulders around your ears, nervous, uncertain. terrified because you didn't immediately understand how to navigate something. worried you will run out of his goodwill and then you will have the Other Father back, and you will have ruined a good day for your entire family. something about you being visibly afraid - it just made him angry. he would accuse you of not wanting to learn and storm away.
on tv, it's not like there's a lot of versions of men-who-are-mostly-fathers. they can be good dads, but usually their stories are not told in the household. so it's normal that your father is there, but he's never around. you know he was in the house, somewhere, it's just not that you guys ever... "hung out". he just seemed to get kind of bored of you, annoyed you weren't made in his perfect image. frustrated with how much energy it took to raise a kid. over time, you kind of adopt a bittersweet band around your throat - he knows nothing about me. he says at least i never abandoned my family.
and it's technically - technically - true. he was there for you. sometimes he even made an effort and made it to the big moments; the graduations and the dance recitals. he grins and tells everyone that he taught you. it almost erases the days in between, where he complains because you need a ride to school. the weeks that go by where he doesn't actually ever speak to you. the times you say i am struggling and he says figure it out on your own. i can't help you.
and that's fine! that's all fine. you can call him if you are having a problem with your car. or if you need a ride to the hospital. he loves playing hero, he just doesn't like the actual work that comes with being a father. and you've kind of made your peace with that; because you had to, because you don't want to live your life like he does; the whole world at a managed distance, a little rotating and controlled orb he can witness and take credit for but never truly love.
as an adult, you are rewatching some dumb cartoon - and again, the child standing in the rain, with a mitt, waiting for their father to come play catch. as an adult, there's this strange creeping dread - this little thing? this little thing, and their dad can't even show up for that? oh god, holyshit, it's not about the mitt, is it. oh god, holyshit, your father spent most of your life leaving you hanging.
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I imagine both drifter and bobby are somewhat desensitized of death. Bobby more so cares less of corpses and sees them more as things to loot, while drifter is somewhat numb to the ticking timer he's in (he makes off handed jokes about himself that sounds slightly concerning). Drifter still respects the dead and what theyve left behind, thinking that borrowing their weapons as some sort of relief for the dead (Quirrel's words ;u;). "Borrowing", because he knows well it will be used by others when these things outlives him, and hes ok with it. (He also believes that a tool that still serves its functions has no reason to go unused)
Bobby is a loud and proud jerk, and drifter rattled that concept simply by just being himself, unexpectant on how it would affect bobby. While he had been familiar of death, he never properly grasped the concept of losing someone he truly loved.
And he doesnt know how to deal with it.
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