Men fucking scare me.
Now, some are going to go like, "it's not all men", " Are you also scared of your dad/brother/male relative?", "Another 'feminist' hating on men" and so on probably. Sure, it's not all men but it's always men.
I was scrolling insta when I came across a reel where a guy is complaining about how whenever there is a crime concerning a woman, we raise our voice and protest yet when there is a crime concerning a man, there is barely even news coverage. Which is certainly true and fair. But seriously, right now? Why is it that men always complain whenever people are trying to give justice to a poor victim girl?? I totally agree that whether men or women, all victims should get their justice but have some fucking sympathy instead of complaining?!?
Next, another reel where a lawyer guy was talking about women's safety laws and all, the comments? "Law for women, la*da for men". Well, why don't you go and take a look at the statistics? Maybe read the news daily, I mean the local one. Again, I'm NOT against men's safety, ofc no. It's just that, why can't men complain or raise their concerns without pulling the women with them? What do you want? The laws that are made for us (not that they're REALLY useful) to go nil??? Or what?? Equality? That is feminism. Fucking equality!! You don't hear a true feminist complaining, "why do men get paid more than us? Salary for men, chillar for women" or anything, instead it's "We want to get paid the same as that of a man." Again, I'm NOT speaking against men particularly, just the ones who feel enraged towards us just because we want to get treated as a human first, and equally.
I was talking to a guy friend and his attitude is, "Yeah what happened to her is TERRIBLE but hey, it's not like I can do anything about that? I would never do that and be a good person but that's all I can do, I can't tell the rapists that what they did was wrong and they'd too be like 'oh yes yes oops we did wrong' right?". Now, I do understand his perspective but sure a bit more sympathy and kindness won't hurt anyone?? He even has a sister!! And in the age of social media, anyone with a phone can contribute to some extent.
When I read the details of the case, my soul cried out. I can't even imagine her sorrow. Oh my goodness. My insides felt all queasy reading those gruesome details. All girls of all ages have almost experienced a bad incident with men. Harassment, molestation, abuse, assault, SOMETHING! So many cases everyday and so many more which don't even get registered. Rapes have become so common in India that unless and until it's something very gruesome, people don't even bother that much. It's always "What has it got to do with me" until it's someone you, someone who is close to you. 78 years of independence yet girls are still caged behind walls.
It's always "Beti Bachao, Beti Padhao", Beti padh toh li lekin Beti bach nahi pai. Why is it always "Arre voh toh ladhka, voh toh aise he karega", Voh aisa kyu karega?!?
Why is that ladhkiyo ko mana karte hai raat mein bahar jaane ke liye because it's not safe for her, lekin ladhke puri raat awaaragardi kare, koi dikkat nahi.
Why can't we just teach boys to respect women? To not just respect women, but to respect everyone? The next person is a living being, is that not a good enough reason to not be cruel??
https://www.instagram.com/reel/C-ry4xNvZw0/?igsh=N2M0bW51c3dueGpi
Ajeeb toh hai.
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just watched beetlejuice beetlejuice at the theaters, and can I just say, I loved it! it definitely didn’t disappoint and was a zany adventure, just like the first one.
and it kinda added layers to betelgeuse in a way. because spoilers I definitely thought they would go the same route for astrid and jeremy, the same way they did for lydia and betelgeuse in that what jeremy wanted was for astrid to marry him so that he could get out. instead it was a more sinister method, and it makes me wonder why betelgeuse never tried it. it can’t be because he doesn’t know about it, because he’s the type of ghost to read the handbook backwards and forwards just so he can find every loophole to exploit. like my head keeps going in circles. especially for the first movie where lydia had initially wanted ‘in’ while he wanted ‘out’, the switcheroo method that jeremy tried with astrid would’ve been perfect then. even in this movie where he already has experience of lydia backing out of their deal, he could have had lydia promise to exchange her soul for his. with how much she wanted to save astrid, I’m sure lydia would have agreed. instead, he just wanted to remarry her. it’s interesting because it means betelgeuse, as putrid, crass, disgusting, and opportunistic as he is, actually seems like he has lines he won’t cross.
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☆ the dove
{☆} characters tsaritsa
{☆} notes cult au, imposter au, drabble, gender neutral reader
{☆} warnings violence, blood
{☆} word count 0.7k
Her hands are weapons, forged in a tragedy as much as a war of ash and blood that seeps into the earth and rots it from within. To them, however, she is salvation. Her hands are a kindness, not a threat. She sees it in their puffy, red eyes just brimming with tears, their fragile body so delicate and weak is still remains marred by wounds new and old – the gold still stains their skin, even long after it had been washed away.
She has seen it all – and she takes the injured dove beneath her wing with the sickly sweet promise that someday she shall mend its broken wings and teach it to fly again.
And in their stupor, they do not see her clip their wings.
It is for the best.
The wolves still salivate below the nest, waiting for her little dove to fall again – no, she shall not send her little bird to fly when it will just fall into their waiting maws once again.
This..this one is hers, she has decided.
Her little bird who dreams of the sky and the woman who clips their wings..what a tragic pair they must make, she thinks.
Not for her, of course. Yet not to them, either, unaware of the way she grounds them and keeps the key to their cage tightly in her fist.
"Tsaritsa?" The soft, meek lilt of the little bird draws her from her reverie, and she smiles – all teeth and little else, wolfish and predatory.
Yet the bird sees nothing but love in the sharp points of her canines.
As it was meant to be.
"Yes, little bird?"
She coos in honeyed tones, brushing her cold, cold hands against their skin, reveling in the way they shiver and shake beneath the ever present chill in her very bones. They do not fear the claws that ghost across their skin, and the smile they offer that illuminates their eyes like stars only proves her right – she wants to devour them whole. To see the stars in their eyes burn out beneath her teeth, their golden blood burn upon her tongue and down her throat.
"You promised to take me to the gardens today, remember?"
Her pearly, sharpened fangs peer out beneath her lips as she grins wider, unnerving to all but the little bird who sees not the wolf but the wool it wears, her hands finding their place upon their shoulders as she whispers into their ear.
She will guide her little bird where they cannot go, where their clipped wings cannot take them.
She will give them that bittersweet taste of freedom and then watch them try to catch the stars..
Just to drag them back down to earth where they belong.
"Of course, Creator – I am a woman of my word, am I not?"
Such sickly sweet lies come to her with ease – she lies and she lies and they do not see past the woolen cloak of the wolf until its jaw has snapped around its throat and its blood has painted the world a shimmering gold.
She will delight in that, too.
"If I may be so bold, Creator, you have been distant lately..have you grown tired of me already?"
Her words were as sharp as a blade, yet as dull as a rock, as sweet as they were dangerous. Like watching a mouse trap luring in its prey, she would snap it shut as soon as the little bird strayed too close.
"No! No, that's not..you've just been busy lately, I didn't want to intrude."
They remind her so much of a rabbit in those moments, and she so badly wants to know what would happen if she just took a small, insignificant bite..yet she restrains herself with a far too wide smile, her jaw clenched so hard she almost thinks they will hear it creak.
"Intrude? You could ever hardly intrude, Creator – what is mine is yours. Though, perhaps I shall have to lock you in my room to ensure you compensate me for depriving me of your presence."
In just a few short words, she snares the rabbit – her little bird, her Creator. They will see nothing but the sickly sweet lure of her smile, letting out a pretty laugh of their own as they press closer, like a bird wandering into the open maw of the beast lying in wait.
"As long as it has a nice view, I suppose I won't mind."
They jest, but she does not. And oh, how easy it is to ensnare an unsuspecting prey.
"Of course, Creator – just for you."
It won't be long until her little bird returns to its gilded cage, now. Permanently.
It is better that way.
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Rhaena is a Targaryen but, is her skin color the problem or is the writing the problem?
the writing, through and through. skin color is not a problem, but the writing degrading every character that they made black is awful. the velaryons are an ancient, rich and respected house, baela and rhaena are two amazing dragonriders. the show bent their stories to prop up the (white) main characters: rhaenyra and daemon. that’s not how inclusivity works, if you’re going to make characters of color, show them respect.
why is rhaena ordered around as a glorified babysitter? why not write a single scene of her with her father or brothers? why inflict trauma on her by first making her (black) mother die a horrible death then make her relive that sending her to the same place?
rhaena is beloved. rhaena is respected. rhaena lived in the vale as a princess, showered in praise and attention. rhaena is the last dragonrider, a beacon of hope and magic in this world. rhaena got her happy ending. black rhaena deserves that as much as white rhaena.
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