the reason why sansa stark is an amazing character to me isn’t because she endures or because she is smart or capable, but because 99% of the characters in the story have gone through horribly traumatic things and almost all of them end up becoming huge dicks because of it while sansa, despite experiencing trauma during such a formative stage in her life, has only gotten more kind/understanding.
THE FINAL DAY
This is the last day before the a good chunk of the fandom is gonna be pissed.
If we find out the Doctor’s name, people will be upset. If we don’t, a whole other bunch of people will be upset.
God forbid someone gets kissed.
I think it’s pretty safe to say that no matter what happens in The Name of the Doctor, a lot of people are going to be upset.
So in these last hours, let’s all just treasure this moment of peace. And when the episode airs, I can only hope that we can all get along amicably. Opinions will be flying left, right and centre, so let’s try not to maim anyone or freak the fuck out on anyone who disagrees with your personal opinion.
So let’s regroup.
Let’s remember, we all love this guy:
And this guy:
And these glorious bastards:
And some of us love River:
And some of us want this marvellousness back:
And some people don’t know a Sontaran Probic Vent from a Tribophysical Waveform Macro-kinetic Extrapolator but what we all have in common is LOVE.
So no matter what happens tomorrow…
Because you love the SHOW passionately. And it’s kinda gorgeous that we, as nerds, rally around love. That’s our thing.
So, y’know. Don’t forget to be awesome, fandom.
What’s sad is Arizona feels horrible for cheating, and she’s grateful for everything Callie has done for her but she can’t apologize for her behavior yet because Callie hasn’t apologized for hers.
Remember what Owen said last season about Teddy getting over Henry’s death and how if she “needs a bad guy”, someone to blame her grief on, he would take the fall?
Callie inadverdently made herself the “bad guy” in Arizona’s trauma. She pushed her like hell to recover from her physical and emotional trauma and now she’s working again and socializing again and even having sex again but even though Callie has been her savior she’s also become the “bad guy” that Arizona takes all her rage out on.
Callie made the call to cut off her leg. Callie yelled at her to get back to work, she pushed her to have sex, she pushed her into buying the hospital. All these things in the long-term had good consequences overall but not for their relationship because to Arizona she doesn’t see all these things as inherently good.
Arizona wants to love her wife the way she did before but she can’t now because Callie has victimized herself amongst this whole thing but it wasn’t her trauma to be a victim of. Yes she lost Mark, but so did Arizona. And Arizona lost Lexie, and Arizona lost her leg, and her spirit, and her self-confidence.
This is why there are support groups for people who are recovering drug addicts or for widowed army wives or for people recovering PTSD or rape. Having a supportive husband or wife or family is all integral to the journey to recovery but a part of it is also being able to talk to people who were actually there.
Callie keeps trying to rationalize Arizona’s emotions and insecurities but Arizona feels like it’s belittling because Callie wasn’t there. And honestly, Arizona looked repentant, guilty, heartbroken, apologetic; she was ready to take full responsibility for what she did until Callie mentioned the plane crash.
Callie wasn’t on the plane. That is significant because all season she’s been acting like she was. She said after everything “we” survived. Callie didn’t survive the actual plane crash. Arizona did. Those are facts, and to Arizona, Callie was diminishing her suffering by lumping herself into that group. Callie was not a survivor. She was deeply affected by what happened, yes, but she wasn’t on the plane.
“Believe it or not, how you see another person usually has very little to do with them. Your views, your opinions, your perceptions and your judgments all stem from you. They are a function of who you believe you are or are not. What is inside you ultimately determines how you approach other people.”
—hey! its ok if youre a poc and sometimes you feel like you hate white people!
hey! its ok if youre a woman and sometimes you feel like you hate men!
hey! its ok if youre an lgbt person and sometimes you feel like you hate straight/cis people!
hey! its ok to be momentarily angry with people who have oppressed you for centuries! blowing off steam now and then is good!
Argh…
Has it EVER crossed your mind that some people are able to enjoy Castiel doing stuff independently from Dean, simply because they enjoy the character? I don’t need Cas to have sex with lots of people to “become a better match” for Dean or anything like that. I don’t even need to see Cas having sex with others, but I don’t mind if he does if it is done in a believable way that rings true to the character (for me).
I am so sick and tired of people’s assumptions about Cas-girls and Cas-centric non-shippers, you have no idea.
For me, being appreciative of independent!Cas merely means that I do not have to see the character revolve around his relationship with Dean. That does not mean I want him to dump Dean, or be with others to become Dean’s equal (which is bullshit anyways). The relationship between Dean and Cas is beautiful to me, I enjoy it very much, and I support them becoming a romantic unit in canon.
Books Have Ruined My Life! A Series of Opinionated Thoughts.
Part. 1 My expectations of Romance
As a kid, I fell in love with the idea of love. I became obsessed with romance. Everything I watched and everything I read had to be about love. Even now as an adult, I am obsessed with it. I watch shows like “Fringe” and all I care about is how the love for Peter Bishop makes that show turn. Yup, all the parallel universes and science cannot live up to it. I pick up a book and immediately latch on to the love story which is like storyline C. I can’t help it. I am in love with love.
And it has ruined my life. It has. I keep waiting for that light at the end of the tunnel. I keep waiting for fate to throw my destiny at me. Unfortunately, I have learned that life is a bitch and fate a fickle whore. In fiction, when a loved one dies, fate sends you someone else. This new person does not replace your lost love, but helps you rebuild your broken heart. In life, my life anyway, I learned that death can often leave a gaping hole in your heart that never heals. I also learned that when you are the shy awkward girl at school fate is not going to send you some knight in shining armor to help you find your voice.
Still, even though life has given me lemons I still hold out hope for that ice cold and incredibly sweet glass of lemonade.
Why?
Because Dimitri saw past Rose’s age to the warrior inside.
Because Curran doesn’t care who Kate’s father is or what is coming for them.
Because Adam waited for Mercy.
Because Ethan lives.
Because Colin, believes in Penelope.
Because Noah touches Echos Scars.
Because Mr. Darcy saved Elizabeth’s family from ruin.
Because Captain Wentworth forgave Anne.
The thing is… these stories and those men were created in the minds of women. Do these guys exist? Do people actually stand outside bedroom windows holding boom boxes over their head? Do ladies run through city streets, just to tell the guy they love it has always been him? Do rich guys actually ignore class and finances to marry the cinder girl?
Does life actually work that way? I hope so. I hope with all my heart.
I am old fashioned and I want an old fashion love story. It’s the reason I haven’t joined my friends in their online dating website craze. I hope for an angry first meeting filled with pride and prejudice, but ends with a bewitched soul ending. I hope for the forbidden love of an older guy or the boy next door. I am a hopeless romantic and I want the kind of romance that will inspire my grand children when we recount the story on our front porch. I want the story that still makes my heart skip a beat 20 years later. I want him to build my dream house and duel for my hand. I want him to come back to life. I want him to be patient. I want him to not give a damn about my past. I want him to believe in me. I want him to forgive me. I want him to love me forever. I want his soul to find mine.
The problem is, I am not sure it exists outside the pages of a novel. I may just spend the rest of my life hoping for, waiting for, searching for, but never finding it. I want a love worthy of literature.
Let’s talk. What do you guys think? Does this kind of love exist? Do you have a storybook romance?
PSA - tumblr =/= the real world
If you think tumblr followers or how many notes you get on a post matter or make you better than another person that you’re terribly wrong and need to take a long hard look at your life.
Sure notes and followers are good and fun on tumblr but please never use them in an argument to say that you’re better than someone.
Whether it be cosplay, art, or ANYTHING.
Some of you may know what I’m talking about and some of you may not. I will just say that I see people being VERY high and mighty because they have more followers or notes. If you really think that way then I just feel sorry for you. (except not really because you’re obviously a gigantic cunt)
