and dash is all black and white

Well...shit.

Look, despite being a SuperCorp shipper, I never actually thought they would become a thing. It was just one of those ships that I liked because of the great chemistry and if they never happened then at least I could enjoy their scenes together and read some fanfiction. I’ve had a lot of these ships over the years.

But even I cringed when they dashed the shipper’s hopes for a joke. People put a massive amount of emotional energy into this ship, whether or not I or anyone else actually thought it would happen. That’s a lot of feelings that they treated like a huge joke, like something to laugh at.

While I don’t think that was their intention at all, that’s still how it appeared. On top of them ignoring all negative criticism for the show, pushing Mon-El ahead despite how widely hated he is, relegating the black male lead to a support character behind the white male lead they brought on to replace him, and invalidating Kara’s entire relationship with James in season 1, this has become a melting pot of bad decisions.

I think this might just tip the scales. With the whole Clexa thing, we’ve seen what happens when a lot of very hurt and determined LGBT shippers bond together to send a message.

And what I’m seeing on social media right now is almost exactly the same thing I saw when Lexa died. We all know what happened there.

The Evolution of box braids

Box braids didn’t become popular until the early 80′s when the GOAT Patrice Rushen took to the R&B and jazz scene

But at the time, they weren’t really called “box braids.” They were individual braids inspired by North African cultural aesthetics, especially Egyptian. However, box braids have their roots in our home region, West Africa as well.

Early on, you saw a peep of these beautiful, intricate hairstyle in the late 70′s from the female singers in Oddysey and S.O.S. Band

I believe both singers from these bands appeared with these hairstyles in the year 1977. So box braids have been here in African-American culture for a LONG time. It just didn’t really become a fad until the early 90′s because before then, these hairstyles were looked at as “trippy” Afrocentric hairstyles that artists would wear to get in touch with their African roots. The 80′s was a time where a lot of African-American artists’ fashion were inspired by West and North African roots.

 At the turn of the decade, you began to see box braids become more mainstream with Janet Jackson, Naomi Campbell’s ethereal ass, rapper Yo-Yo, and Jada Pinkett Smith.

Then in the mid 90′s, Stacey Dash makes braids en vogue by sporting the famous look in Clueless.

All the middle to upper-class girl caught on to box braids because of this but who should really get credit is the incomparable, Brandy Norwood!

Ask for “Moesha” at the hair salon, and it was say no more.

Mariah’s white-passing ass tried them on for size in her Thank God I Found You remix video and they looked dope!

And then here comes sexy stemme Alicia Keys bringing back our great-great-great North African ancestry in 2001

She made cornrows cool for all the black girls in grade school!

And I almost forgot! Beyonce really made kinky twists hot in the early ‘00s as well

Always looking like somebody’s cool redbone cousin rollin’ up at the family cookout 

Then Christina Aguilera tried to join in on the fun, but we said, “Nah, sweetie. You Latinx but you not afro honey. But you look cute sis”

*fast forward to several years later*

Unfortunately, box braids were no longer as popular as they were in the early ‘00s. Bad, synthetic weaves dyed a tacky brown were in from 2004-2008.

But in early 2013, box braids had a revival!

Thank you, Keri Hilson! You may not be shit, but you did that thing! I always said you was my hair-fashion icon tho. I can’t stunt on you.

We had Zoe Kravitz make braids cool for the edgy, sarcastic and loner black girls like me!

Soon, we saw so many pictures of black girls modeling box braids on Tumblr and Instagram!

Solange soon rocks these braids because she’s hip and poppin’

Then Christina Milan being Afro-Latina, she had to get in on this

Even Tia or Tamera

Soon, these 90′s R&B girls came back for a reunion with their beautiful, braided locs!

We all saw Ayesha Curry try to butter up to the black female community by taking an adorable selfie with her mama 

Now we got Instagram models and actresses making braids en vogue!

(Babyhairs aren’t mandatory and I recommend women with type 4 hair to get these styles. If you are under, I wouldn’t keep these in for very long)

So now box braids are everywhere, and they are the go-to for a black girl’s protective style, especially if they have my hair type! But anyone who is black and of African descent can wear them. You don’t have to have tightly-coiled hair to wear these, but they are what the styles are intended for since the hair is apt for them. 

 And notice something else; none of these styles were coined or invented by white or non-black women. They were all made and adorned by black women. And Patrice Rushen is the Godmother of protective styles. Don’t whitewash these!

Why do I not see more Black Sails on my dash? You’re talking about a show that does polyamory, doesn’t shame sex workers, has a narrative that continually reinforces that racial equality is mandatory for people to get anywhere in life, does the best plot twist on Kill Your Gays that I’ve ever seen, gives us female characters that are nuanced and even flat-out awful but still humanized and sympathetic, doesn’t queer bait, and your villain is literally always a rich white straight cis man… Like why is this show not plastered all over tumblr? And did I mention it’s about freaking PIRATES? Get on this shit, people.

anonymous asked:

Yakuza!Hanzo with pregnant s/o? During the pregnancy and birth?

((SO I MADE THIS A LIKE TWO PART STORY BECAUSE YAKUZA HANZO IS LIFE….I also do an excessive amount of research on things for this and it FUELED my need))

From a hostess at an upscale bar to the wife of a Yakuza boss. It sounded like the storyline of one of those movies or TV dramas and yet, this was your life. You had drawn the eye of Hanzo Shimada; the sophisticated, suave man of few words who initially frequented the establishment when holding private business meetings. You could feel his eyes on you whenever you had been working and soon found yourself requested as a personal hostess for the sharply dressed man with the hawk-like gaze. Enticing professionality morphed into actual attraction; small gift of affections turning into a request to date you which soon led to marriage.

You counted yourself as lucky. Most of the other hostesses or former yankee girls ended up in loveless, violent marriages with men who wanted a trophy wife and punching bag all in one. Hanzo treated you like a queen; granting your any desire or wish, showering you in gifts and private displays of affection. You wanted for absolutely nothing and lived in the lap of luxury within the Shimada faction walls. Anytime you left, you were flanked by personal female guards and whenever Hanzo had important ‘legitimate’ meetings, you were on his arm as his doting and loving wife. He didn’t involve you with any of his illegal practices, you were an exquisite flower in the garden of his life and he planned to keep you safe. And his child that grew inside of you.

“Beloved…”

You smiled, Hanzo’s voice was still tinged by sleep, his hands lightly moving over your waist to rest on your growing stomach. You tilted your head to the side as Hanzo placed a gentle kiss against the side of your neck, his chin resting in the crook of your shoulder. You had neither been actively trying to conceive nor working to prevent it, letting fate handle any type of family planning you’d fall under. When he found out you were pregnant, he was ecstatic in his own ways; his eyes lit up, he pulled you to him and kissed you hard and openly in front of the doctor that made the housecall. Hanzo wasted no expense in making sure your pregnancy progressed smoothly; a personal chef on call 24/7, a masseuse that you could visit in person or request on the estate, your own private midwife and weekly spa trips to keep you ridiculously pampered and relaxed. He had even begun accompanying you more after you expressed that you felt lonely with him gone so often.

This is how you found yourself waking with him at least three days out of the week, enjoying a meal or two together as he answered calls and dispatched orders to his secretary who would then pass them onto whomever needed to hear them. You leaned back into your husband, humming contently as his arms wrapped tighter around your body. His lips pressed hard against the side of your neck again, drawing a quiet chuckle from your lips and a pleased sigh from his. Covering his hands with your own smaller ones, you massaged the back of his hands before deciding to speak.

“Good morning dear husband”, you teased playfully, earning a throaty huff of a laugh at the formal nickname. “I hope I didn’t wake you…”

“No dearest”, Hanzo started between another kiss, squeezing you again. He had never made you second guess his attraction to you even through the pregnancy, his level of affection almost growing as you did. “Waking in bed without you however was inspiration enough to rise.”

A wave of nausea had pulled you out of your sleep and forced you out of bed, your hand combing through Hanzo’s hair as you rose as not to wake the man. You had slipped to the down to the kitchen and fixed yourself a cup of peppermint-ginger tea, obnoxiously sweetened to your preference. Turning your head, you gave a soft ‘oh’ when you saw he had already gotten dressed, the white button up covering his once shirtless torso.

Turning yourself around, Hanzo pulled back slightly, your eyes looking him up and down, humming approvingly. Hanzo wore both traditional and modern clothing, both looking dashing on him but the latter edging out with your preference. He wore black slacks, the white button up tucked in but not buttoned all the way up, the navy blue tie hanging undone around his collar and his black hair still down. A warm, thankful smile began to pull at your lips, your eyes connecting with your husband’s dark ones. This was a ritual that the both of you had started from when you had first been brought into the Shimada clan. You initially had been no more than a glorified wallflower; pretty, pleasant and essentially useless. Before meeting Hanzo you had been a working girl your entire adult life, working hard to earn your keep and live your life as comfortably as you could. Doing absolutely nothing left you antsy, restless. So in the morning you would rise with your then boyfriend and assist him with getting ready. You’d pick out his ties and socks, button up his shirts and assist him with putting his shoes on. It made you feel at least somewhat useful before you became the lady of the house.

Reaching out, you pulled him closer so his torso rested against your pregnant belly, one of his hands lifting to lightly stroke at your cheek. Your fingers made quick work of the button up, your fingers playfully ghosting under his shirt to lightly stroke the edges of clan’s dragon tattoo on his left shoulder before closing it. You worked your magic, tying his tie into a trinity knot, your hand smoothing over his chest as you looked up at him affectionately. His hand moved from your cheek to your chin, holding it as he dipped his head down and pressed an affectionate kiss to your lips. His free hand tenderly massaged your belly as he pulled away, smiling down at you.

“Remember to tell your doctor this, beloved.”

You nodded your head, understanding he was  referring to your nausea. He’d text you mid-day just to make sure it had been done and would take care of it himself if your pregnancy brain made you forget. Always watching out for you.

“Of course, my love.”


“Boss we can just force our way back in there…she can’t tell you to get out like that ca–”

Hanzo stopped on a dime and snarled at the man that had dared to speak, his eyes pinning the man with a look that could kill. The younger man immediately bowed, stammering an apology as he backed out of the room at the quiet recommendation from a senior member. Hanzo was known for his chilling calmness, his cutting words and icy gaze usually enough to break anyone who would cross him. But now he was on edge, snapping angrily at anyone that would speak to him as he paced. No one could blame him really. Hanzo had been kicked out of the room by your midwife after snapping at her when you went through a particularly rough contraction, the man demanding to know why the pain medication hadn’t kicked in yet.

So now all he could do was pace while several of his guards fidgeted about, thrown off by their boss’ energy. He could hear your cries through the door, his heart tugging every single time it reached his ears. His twin dragons begged to be set free, to protect their master’s mate, Hanzo was barely able to fight the urge himself. But he knew that it would upset you so instead he would wait, his heart in his throat and nervous flitting in his belly. Time trickled by, far slower than Hanzo would have liked, hours feeling like days. Until the strong, loud cry pierced the air.

It felt as if the world around him melted away, the strong, growing cries of the newborn working everyone into an excited frenzy. Someone clapped Hanzo on the back, another on the shoulder and they were all cheering when the door to the room you had been delivering in slid open a crack. The midwife smiled and motioned for Hanzo to come forward, his men pushing him when his feet froze to the ground, excited and intimidated by the prospect of finally meeting his child.

“Hanzo…come say hi.”

Your voice drew him the rest of the way into the room, warmth exploding in his chest as he laid eyes on you and the small bundle you held in your arms. Your face was ruddy, hair stuck to your skin by sweat, eyes heavy with exhaustion; but he was sure you had never looked more beautiful. He stopped in front of you, his hand lightly stroking your cheek, his other hand shaking as it came to lay gently upon the head of the newborn. The newborn boy fidgeted at his touch, his mouth opening in a big yawn as Hanzo lightly stroked his face. Emotion made his throat feel tight as he dipped down, pressing his lips hard against your forehead, pulling the both of you into a hug. Haruto gave a whine at being jostled, the newborn fidgeting before settling between his mother and father quietly.

“Haruto Shimada”, you hummed softly as Hanzo pulled back, your head falling to the pillow on your bed, patting the space on the California king sized bed next to you lightly. Your midwife hung around the background, cleaning up the area quickly and quietly, the omnic nurse following right behind her.  Hanzo took the seat, taking your hand gently and kissing your knuckles hard, as he scoot back to lay amongst the pillows with you. Immeasurable pride, love, happiness and need to protect filled his being as he looked between you and Haruto contently. You leaned your head onto his shoulder, peeking up at him through your lashes. “Would you like to hold him love?”

Hanzo barely nodded before you were carefully passing the newborn into his arms, the Yakuza head breathing stopping for several moments. Haruto fidgeted, smacking his lips lightly in a yawn once more as he turned into his father’s touch. Hanzo took this time to study him thoroughly; thick black hair covering his head, face chubby and skin ruddy from being birthed. Later, he would say that Haruto was a peculiar looking little thing when he came out but right now at this moment the child was the image of perfection. Your snort drew Hanzo’s attention up, your finger pointing to the foot of the bed with a humored smile.

Yuuki and Ame sat at the end of the bed, curled into a loose pile on top of one another and rest at your feet. The translucent blue dragons were content to sit and wait, intrigued yet protective, instantly acknowledging the new charge that had been added to the family. Extending a hand to them, you gently pat Ame on the head as he moved forward, chuckling quietly as the dragon purred under your touch.

“Keep him safe”, you ordered softly, knowing there was no real need to tell the dragons what to do.

“The dragons will consume our enemies”, Hanzo reminded you, his voice soft but mirthful as he leaned over and lightly kissed you on the forehead, cradling your sleeping son to his chest lovingly.


((I hope this is okay anon! I know I went on a tangent but it was fun!))

BTS Reaction to You Wearing a Revealing Dress to an Award Show

MASTERLIST

Anonymous: “BTS reaction to you wearing a revealing dress at an awards show (a dress that mostly shows your breasts are

Hey guys sorry for being MIA we kinda forgot to post lmfaooooo 


JinThe Vegas heat is no joke you thought while your stylist got you ready to attend the BBMAS with your love, Jin.  

Your stylist laid out two dresses. The first was a hideous long sleeved black dress– one which would have been a bad choice considering the warm weather. The second dress was a short white dress accented with summer flowers and a tulle skirt. The dress was perfect, but the neck was cut deep, real deep. The neck was deep and cut down to you mid-section in a V shape. You thought it would be too risky to wear to an award show, but then thought what the hay as the weather was ridiculously warm.

After some time, when your makeup and hair was all a tall dashing Jin walked in. You turned around to face him and noticed that he was covering his mouth. 

“Aigoo, where are your clothes?” Jin was quite conservative and seeing you in a revealing dress shocked him. He soon came to realize that it was pretty smart that you chose this dress considering the weather and who could complain. He though the dress was visually pleasing, to say the least.   

Once you two hit  the red carpet Jin would whisper some PG-rated things in your ear, followed by  "Let’s switch outfits IT’S TOOO HOT!“ 

Originally posted by cyyphr

Suga: When you asked Yoongi what you should wear, you didn’t know what you expected.  

"Whatever you want,” “ Anything,” and “I don’t know” were just a couple of his answers.  

You couldn’t argue though, Yoongi never really cared about your outfits or how you looked, and although it bugged you at first, you appreciated how he love you for you. 

For the award show, however, you wanted to look your best. You knew BTS always looked like kings on the red carpet, and you wanted everyone to know that you were Yoongi’s queen. So, you asked the stylist to help you out. She presented you with a gorgeous dress, one that you thought was prettier than you. You were reluctant at first, but soon gave in once you thought about what Yoongi would think.  

When the big day arrived, you waited for Yoongi to come pick you up from your room. When you opened the door, Yoongi would be frozen– his mouth would be left open and his pupils would expand. You were nervous at first, maybe he thought it was too revealing, or maybe you didn’t look really good. Before your thoughts could go any further, Yoongi would pull you into a hug and tell you how beautiful you looked. 

Originally posted by cyyphr

J-Hope: After hearing of BTS’s nomination for an award, you were ecstatic because this meant you would be attending an award show with Hoseok. This wouldn’t be your first rodeo, BTS had many public appearances and you attended many with them. This time around, you wanted to stand out and be different from the regular party goers at the event. You decided to wear a backless red dress that left most of your upper half exposed. Hoseok was awestruck from the moment he saw you, he adored your outfit and wanted nothing more for the world to see his girl. Throughout the night, Hoseok would be uploading numerous pictures of you as well as constantly telling the members how lucky he is to have you. 

Originally posted by nnochu

Rap Monster: Namjoon was beyond excited to be nominated for so many awards and so were you. You were so proud of him and his members and were happy at the chance that you would be able to support them backstage. Everything was going perfectly while planning for the award show, the only thing was your outfit. You didn’t know what to wear and what would be appropriate. You wanted to match your boyfriend, of course, but you also wanted to impress him. So when the stylist came to you for an idea of what you wanted, you didn’t hesitate to tell her about the kind of neckline you wanted.   

When the day of the award show finally arrived, you headed to BTS’ room in your long, deep necked dress. You were excited to see what Namjoon’s reaction was. He always gassed you up about your fashion and couldn’t wait for to hear his hype. When you entered the room, all eyes were on you, especially Namjoon’s. When you saw the look on his face it would be like the look he gave you when you first met. He would walk to you quickly and take you into one of the bedrooms. 

“You look so hot, Y/N,” he would say. “How about we just stay here and I can un–" 

"Uh, Namjoon.. You kind of have an award show to go to.”  

Originally posted by bexsblogposts

Jimin: As BTS gained popularity with their music so did their rep. This meant that the group would attend many award shows and after parties, all of which you were invited to as well. One party, in particular, was celebrating BTS’ win. It was a huge party with many people and you wanted to make your mark, so you did so with a bold dress. Your dress was pink and exposed your chest area quite a bit. Jimin was startled at your outfit choice, but it quickly grew on him. Throughout the night you’d catch him stealing glances at you followed by him embarrassingly looking away. What a mochi, you thought, what a goosedarnit mochi.  

Originally posted by sosjimin

V: Knowing that Taehyung is the fashion icon in BTS, you couldn’t embarrass him with any ordinary dress at an award show.  

You decided to get in contact with the best stylist the world. The stylist placed you in a fashion forward piece that exposed your chest areas. The dress was a deep blue color that and hugged your body in all the right places and was accented with jewels. This piece was controversial, iconic, and fashion forward all at the same time. This made you anxious for what Taehyung would say.  

So there you stood, posing in the middle of the dressing room waiting for to V to arrive. Once Taehyung arrived he nonchalantly walked by, barely looking at your dress, lazily saying “cool dress.” He stood on the fitting podium while his stylist sized him up, and in slow motion, you scanned his body up to his face and that’s when he said it. 

“Try again hunty.”

Originally posted by vthesecretoilet

Jungkook: BTS were nominated for many awards at the award show that you would be attending to with them. You were going to support BTS, but mainly for your boyfriend Jungkook. Being your first award show, you wanted to dress to impress. When you found the perfect dress, you wanted to surprise Jungkook the day of the award show. When the day arrived, you called Jungkook down to your hotel room to meet you before you all left to head to the red carpet. You opened the door, somewhat seductively, and looked into Jungkooks eyes as he scanned your body from head to toe. 

“Wh-what are you wearing..” Jungkook asked in a nervous tone. 

Suddenly, he lifted his hand up to block something from his view. You looked down to where he was avoiding and noticed that it was at your exposed breasts. 

“You don’t like it?” You asked in an unintentional disappointed voice.  

Jungkook looked at you quickly and lifted up your face. “No, babe you look hot. I just don’t want anyone to give you any fishy looks. Only I should be able to see you like this.”  

You chuckled at Jungkook’s comment and pulled him out the door. Little did you know that Jungkook would literally be avoiding you the whole night because of your outfit. He was just too shy to see you like that and his eyes would be scarred for life. When it would be time to take pictured, he would just hover his arm around you. He would even go as far as pretending not to know you.

Originally posted by baekon-stripss

DannyMay Day Five: Moment in time/clocks

…He always gets a feeling first. Like the air shifts around him. A disturbance if you will. He knows it’s really bad when, coupled with The Feeling, all his clocks stall for a single second. He turns on his monitor. The nagging will not go away.

Daniel is up to something

He finds his young charge brooding by his school locker. His friends standing next to him. He can feel it down to his ghostly tail. Daniel is going to do something, what, he can’t decide. There are too many possibilities.

“Danny are you sure you want to go through with this?”

“Yeah man, this seems a bit drastic, even for you”

“I’m just so done with this town! How can nobody tell it’s me after three whole years of saving their collective ass!? I mean come on! I’m sticking my arm through a locker!”

As he said, Daniel has made his arm intangible and is rummaging through his locker. Nobody seems to notice.

“I should just come to school as Phantom in my regular clothes”

“Dude, with your luck people would think you’re trying to copy Phantom”

Daniel appears to be quite offended by that statement. Yelling things like “how can I copy myself as myself”

“Hey at least you have your parents on your side this time around”

Clockwork chuckles, his charge can be quite the drama queen. Daniel proceeds to bang his head against the locker.

The school day rolls by and nothing out of the ordinary has happened Yet. Clockwork knows better, “The Feeling” has not dissipated. However a tingle races down his spine as lunch time approaches.

“FENTON!”

“Oh no”

The boy he calls Dash is angrily making his way towards Daniel. Something about a test he failed and misplaced aggression. Clockwork scowls, Daniel seems resigned to the oncoming assault. The entirety of the cafeteria looking on. However something in his eyes changes. He stands.

“Dash I’m not in the mood for your BS right now”

“Who do you think you’re talking to Fen-tina

Clockwork scowls, this brute of a boy better watch himself. He may only interfere when absolutely necessary, but no neanderthal will lay an unjust finger upon his son-young charge, he meant young charge. Daniel clenches his fists.

“You know what Dash, I don’t care just leave me alone or you’re gonna regret it”

The hulking boy grins like the cat that got the cream. Clockwork’s “Feeling” intensifies. He knows the unforeseeable event will happen soon.

“What are you gonna do about it Fen-tonio?

Briefly Daniel’s eyes glow green. He looks about ready to leap at the boy. Clockwork secretly hopes this is the timeline where he does. In a deathly serious voice Daniel responds

“you don’t want to know”

the brute appeares to be taken aback by the sudden shift in the atmosphere. The crowd seems to back away a step. Daniel commands respect, and exudes lethality. Clockwork smirks. That’s the strength his young charge is admired for all throughout the Ghost Zone. Daniel’s Ghost Sense goes off. The children seem perplexed by the smoke exiting his mouth. He smirks. “The Feeling” reaches its peek.

“Anyway, I wish I could stay and finish this little exchange but…”

bright rings of light appear at his waist. His friends face palm. The students gasp in surprise and jump back. The Dash boy stumbles on a near by chair. The English teacher gasps from his position at the door. Daniel grins almost manically. Clockwork roars with laughter for the first time in eons.

As the rings travel up and down his body, leaving behind black and white jumpsuit. Realization strikes the English teacher who looks about ready to faint. The students one by one come to the same conclusion. The brute of a boy sitting on the floor looks on in frozen astonishment. Finally the rings end their journey. Danny Phantom stands before the school in all his heroic glory. He looks Dash in the eye.

“…I have ghost butt to kick, and I don’t hurt civilians, no matter how much of a jerk they can be”

he grabs his friends by the arms and phases up and out through the roof. Clockwork is wiping away tears of laughter. His young charge is always entertaining to watch. Instead of following Daniel’s exit, Clockwork surveys the damage. The Dash boy looks ready to vomit. The English teacher actually fainted. The students squealed, groaned, and sighed. A redhead kid seems to be shouting about how he knew it all along. All in all nothing too bad that would require him to step in.

Clockwork turns off the Daniel monitor. His young charge is quite the sassy hero. The Feeling has evaporated. The revelation of his Ghost half was the grand event. Everything is back to normal within the Clock Tower. A knock at the door. Clockwork smiles and prepares his congratulations.

“All is as it should be”

anonymous asked:

So I know a lot of ppl ship Gabe/Peggy and I was wondering if it was canon or just a headcanon? Plus when shipping characters like these (one white, one black, pre-Loving), do you go for historical accuracy or just say fuck it and ship them together?

It’s comics canon! Gabe and Peggy got married after the war. The mcu just chose to ignore it and go their own way. There’s no good reason why they didn’t follow their arc.

As far as interracial relationships, just because they were illegal doesn’t mean they’re historically inaccurate. In fact, it’s been legal since the late 1800s in the northeastern US where Gabe and Peggy would probably end up. It became legal in all 50 states in 1967, which is well within Gabe and Peggy’s lifetimes. Gabe and Peggy being in love in the late 40s and early 50s would have been absolutely plausible.

But seriously, black and white people didn’t just not fall in love because they couldn’t get married. That’s like saying gay people didn’t exist before 2012. My dad’s best friend in the late 1950s was mixed. So there is no saying “fuck it”, because it’s not a fabricated comics-world thing. It’s a fact.

looking for blogs to follow!

my dash is always so fucking dead so i’m looking new blogs similar to mine to follow, so give this a reblog if you’re blog is any of the three below:

  • monochrome
  • mangacaps
  • sad shit

and thats basically it, i’ll only be looking at blogs that reblog, i’m desperate so go all out guys  ❤

edit: its alright if you reblog slight nsfw, but im not really looking for anything explicit

Zelda's Log #0: The Permanent Roomate

A/N: first chapter! Read the prologue first, if you are a new reader!
—–

The morning following her arrival to Hateno Village, after giving him a kiss on his brow, Zelda left a deeply asleep Link to get acquainted with her new place of residence.

Clad in her more comfortable blouse, pants and boots, she wandered through the winding road up the hill, until she could reach a height at which she could observe the whole place.

The sight brought a satisfying smile to her face.


7:46 a.m.

It’s amazing how Hateno has changed! It was a small settlement a hundred years ago, now it’s bursting with life and activity. Link's​ house is one of the oldest ones - it was about to be demolished, can you believe it?


She kept walking, reaching the premises of the Laboratory, with the intention of greeting its colorful resident.

Despite her extremely youthful appearance, Zelda recognized the sheikah scientist - her glasses gave her away.

‘Goddesses, Purah, what happened to you?!’, Zelda gasped in shock, hands covering her open mouth.

‘Occupational hazards, Princess’, the tiny child-woman said, shrugging and giving her a cheery wink. ‘Good to see you again!’

'Likewise. I came to see​ how you were faring’, Zelda informed her, ‘and to ask if you could see how my Sheikah slate is working’.

Purah checked the device thoroughly while she explained the Princess her findings on the past century - she was not scant on the details of her accident.

‘It’s perfectly fine, but some upgrades wouldn’t hurt’, she explained, tapping the screen. 'Go back to Link's​ and see if he has spare parts’.

‘How do you know I’m at his house?’, Zelda asked.

'Symin went out and brought some gossip on how Hateno’s newest mystery resident arrived with a lady in a white dress on the back of his horse’, Purah explained, gesticulating with excitement. 'Besides the black fog at the castle faded in a burst of light the other day. You don’t have to be a genius to assume you both defeated the Calamity!’

'Which is true’, Zelda assured. 'I wouldn’t be here if we hadn’t, would I?’

'Sure thing! But in all honesty, I think people probably think you just got hitched’, she chuckled, with a cheery grin, 'white dresses can be misleading!’

The Princess’ face looked as a freshly mined ruby.

'Purah, I will return later with the materials’ - Zelda dashed to the door - 'I need to fix this misunderstanding!’

Zelda didn’t even have to open the door, for Link smashed it open. He waved to the scientists.

'I was looking for you’ - he grabbed her hand, taking her with him - ‘Come with with me’. He seemed a bit upset.

'I know I should have let you know where I was going’, she recognized, letting herself be guided by him. 'Where are we going?’

'You’ll see’.

Zelda looked to the village as they approached it. There was a small crowd gathered near the general store. Immediately an idea popped in her head.

'A-are you going to introduce me…’, she asked nervously. ’…to the people?’

He nodded, smiling widely.

'What are we going to tell them?’, she asked, trying to find the words to explain easily who was her and how she got there.

'The truth’.

She squinted at him, not sure if he was going to tell an abridged version of the facts, or actually the whole story.

Before she could even muster a word to introduce herself, Link surprised her.

‘This is Zelda’, he presented her, 'she is living with me from now on, as my permanent roommate. Be nice to her, please, she is new to many things’.

No more details. A very Link introduction for sure. Only one thing made her iffy.

People kindly greeted her, giving her a warm welcome. Some people even gave her gifts, mostly prepared meals and flowers.

Once she knew all the names, both returned home.  

'Permanent roommate? Seriously?’, Zelda asked, certainly upset, leaving the gifts on the table. 'What kind of concept is that?’

Link huffed.

'I’m sorry, but what else would I say to them?’ - he shrugged- ‘We’re not newlyweds​, like some people thought, and they already know mostly everything about you but your name’.

'What do they know about me?’, she asked startled, worried about his answer.

'I’ve been running around all the corners of Hyrule for months, talking more and to more people than I ever had in my entire life’, he informed her. ‘Most folks in Hyrule know about me and my mission’ - he sighed, drooping his shoulders - 'go figure out the rest’.

'And I was thinking how fantastic would be a life in anonymity, at least for a while’, she sighed in resignation.


12.35 p.m.

I had a really eventful morning. Not only I was able to catch up with the findings of a very rejuvenated Purah - my Sheikah slate is in dire need of updates in comparison to Link’s - but I was also introduced to the villagers by my “permanent roommate” - a term coined by Link to describe our current living status, which I find uncomfortable, to say the least, considering all that has transpired between us.


After lunch, Zelda went to the Lab to upgrade her slate, and wandered around, trying its new features.


3.17 p.m.

I am amazed by the upgrade features! I am out of words by the compendium. I’m so eager to complete it; I might be able to add something new if I am lucky enough to discover a creature or a stone.


The rustle of grass took her eyes away from her writing. She already knew who it was.

'What do you want, permanent roommate?’, she asked, closing her notepad, not even turning to face him. 'I’m busy with my research’.

‘You aren’t. You always do that thing when you are mad’, he noted, 'You shut yourself away, not telling why you are acting like that’ - he sat on the grass next to her - ‘I’m not leaving until you explain yourself’.

‘Your poor choice of words when explaining our relationship to the villagers’. She cut straight to the point.

And then it dawned on him. Zelda heard the slapping noise of his hand against his face and a troubled groan.

‘I’m sorry’, he apologized in a pitiful tone, ‘I didn’t mean it; I thought it described well out situation’.

‘I know’, she acknowledged, turning to face him, ‘That’s why I went to be grumpy on my own. I can be petty if I want to’.

‘I do remember that’.

‘It’s not just that though… I thought people didn’t know who I was’, Zelda commented, playing with the grass blades. ‘I wanted a fresh start, to do whatever I wanted, specially researching’

'No one is telling you what to do now, but’ - he stroked her hair- 'you are who you are, and you can’t rub that off you…You can be a scholar, and still fulfill your royal duties’.

She nodded.

'Let’s go back home’, he requested, offering his hand for her to stand up, 'I made you cake’.

'Sounds like a good plan’, she observed, holding his hand.

They walked hand in hand back home, silently, stealing glances.

Once home, she realized that next to the cake was a beautiful notebook, covered in leather.

'I forgot to give you your birthday gift last night’, he admitted, handing her the item, 'I thought you might want to continue your research in a proper logbook’.

Her eyes widened, with a spark of glee shining on her emerald irises, and a wide smile graced her lips. Her priceless reaction made him feel extremely rewarded.

'Goddesses, it’s fantastic!’, she shouted, examining it, ‘Thank you’ -she held the notebook against her heart- 'this means so much to me’.

He just remained silent, cheeks tinted red.

‘I have a lot of research to do’, she told him coyly, tapping the hard-covered notebook. 'I consider you have the qualifications required to be my assistant… What do you think?’

‘As long as it doesn’t involve eating raw hot-footed frogs’ - he made a disgusted gesture - ‘I accept’.

His answer compelled her to give him a big kiss on the cheek.


7:33 p.m.

This is the first, albeit unofficial entry in this log. I have to catch up not only with a hundred years of research, but also with all the people who remain from our past and present. Link will join me in this quest, not only as my guardian and assistant, but also as something else - to my surprise, this logbook had a charming dedication, perhaps added after a misunderstanding we had during the day, related precisely about our relationship status:

May we never be apart ever again.

-Link (your permanent roommate, who loves you)

Stacey Dash Says Why No White History Month

There should be White History Month in America. That way we can teach all the things Americans have done in history, like:
1 Cherokee Trail of Tears
2 Japanese American internment
3 Philippine-American War
4 Jim Crow
5 The genocide of Native Americans
6 Transatlantic slave trade
7 The Middle Passage
8 The history of White American racism
9 Black Codes
10 Slave patrols
11 Ku Klux Klan
12 The War on Drugs
13 Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo
14 How white racism grew out of slavery and genocide
15 How whites still benefit from slavery and genocide
16 White anti-racism
17 The Southern strategy
18 The rape of enslaved women
19 Madison Grant
20 The Indian Wars
21 Human zoos
22 How the Jews became white
23 White flight
24 Redlining
25 Proposition 14
26 Homestead Act
27 Tulsa Riots
28 Rosewood massacre
29 Tuskegee Experiment
30 Lynching
31 Hollywood stereotypes
32 Indian Appropriations Acts
33 Immigration Act of 1924
34 Sundown towns
35 Chinese Exclusion Act
36 Emmett Till
37 Vincent Chin
38 Islamophobia
39 Indian boarding schools
40 King Philip’s War
41 Bacon’s Rebellion
42 American slavery compared to Arab, Roman and Latin American slavery
43 History of the gun
44 History of the police
45 History of prisons
46 History of white suburbia
47 Lincoln’s racism and anti-racism
48 George Wallace Governor of Alabama
49 Cointelpro
50 Real estate steering
51 School tracking
52 Mass incarceration of black men53 Boston school busing riots
54. Jim Crow
55Church Bombings and fires in deep south to Blacks
56. Church Shootings
57. How the Irish and Italians became white
58. The Perpetuation of the idea of the “model minority”
59. Housing discrimination
60. Systematic placement of highways and building projects to create ghettos
61. Medical experimentation on poor poc especially Blacks including surgical and gynecological experimentation
62. History of Planned Parenthood
63. Forced Sterilization
64. Cutting children out of pregnant Black mothers as part of lynchings
65. Eurocentric beauty standard falsification
66. Erasure and eradication of all achievements of Ancient Africa and Kemet
67. White washing of history and cultural practices of pocs
68. Media manipulation and bias
69. Perpetuation of the myth of reverse racism
70. The history of white cannibalism
71. White fragility
72. Man made Ebola and A.I.D.S.

We kids with strict parents all know that moment when you’re supposed to be doing something but your fat-ass is just laying on your bed and then you hear loud footsteps coming towards your room and you get up as fast as you possibly can, like so fast that usain bolt would be proud, and dash to the other side of the room to make it look like you’ve been hard at work like one of snow whites dwarfes at the diamond mines, when in reality, you are a scared, and tired squirrel that just wants to eat nuts, be fat, and sleep all winter.

The Dashing Florist. CS AU.

So this is my first shot at a one shot - since the word count is 11,579, I guess I didn’t succeed all that well. Sorry! 

Anyway, this fic is gifted to @lenfaz for her birthday, Happy Birthday shipmate, as she mentioned she would like this to happen in her reblog of the original prompt post  I hope you enjoy it Lena. 

Thanks as always to my incredible beta @ilovemesomekillianjones and her continuing encouragement for me to write whatever my crazy muses throw at me. You’re the best!

Also available on AO3 and FFN


The door jingled as it was roughly pulled open, the sweltering heat followed Graham Humbert as he stormed into the office.

“He’s done it again,” an accented voice rang through the space.

“Done what?” a muffled voice called back. Graham followed the sound and found a very pert ass sticking out from under a desk.

“He’s parked his delivery van in one of our bays. August is looking for somewhere to park that doesn’t involve a three-block hike.”

The body under the desk wriggled back a little, then there was a sharp crack, followed by a ‘fuck’, and finally his boss pulled her lithe body from under the furniture.

Emma rubbed her head where it had collided with the desk as she stood. “This is the third time this week,” she grumbled. “And it’s only Tuesday.”

“I know. You have to do something about it, Em. We need our vehicles on hand, not miles away.”

“I know,” Emma agreed on a tired exhale, brushing her hands off on her black skinny jeans. “And I’ve told him this as many times as I can remember. I pay way too much for the privilege of those parking bays and he thinks he can just…” she stopped mid-rant. “You know, I’ve had enough of his shit. Maybe it’s time to do something that will get the message through his thick hair.”

“His what?” Graham asked.

“What?” Emma responded, unclear on what he was asking her.

“You said thick hair.” Maybe she hit her head harder than I thought, he mused.

You know what I mean, Graham. Time to get the message through his thick skull,” Emma exaggerated the word, nodding once in self assurance before she marched for the door.

“Hey, now, Swan. Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Like what?”

“Like flash him your boobs. Not everyone is pulled toward their magnificence.”

Emma protectively cupped her breasts. “Don’t listen to him girls, there isn’t a man alive able to resist your charms.”

Graham laughed at her as she left.

Keep reading

Racism in Fandom: My Experience with The 100

So with the 100 about to start again (NOT going to watch it though), I thought it would be a good time to talk about how racism in fandom and television and my experience with the 100, as well as why I, along with many others should have realized it was problematic from the beginning, not only when a lesbian was killed (this is also the reason I deleted most of the 100 posts off my blog, even the ones after Lexa’s death).

In February, the majority of the blogs I followed were freaking the fuck out over Clexa. So I thought, why not? I’ll binge watch it. Everyone I followed was going on and on about its great representation. But while watching, I kept having the nagging feeling something was seriously wrong with this show.

Keep reading

@ people asking me why I’m not responding to all the people reblogging and replying to the post that I made about Gal MONTHS ago… I made it MONTHS AGO and it’s not like it’s constantly being reblogged on my dash and since I’m on mobile a lot, I don’t necessarily SEE all the responses. Plus I don’t have to respond to any of the stuff if I don’t want to? We are also allowed to have different points of view. So many of you are trying to see the world as purely black and white when it’s not. I believe Gal truly believes in peace and love and coexistence. She served in the IDF because it’s required of all Israeli citizens and she never served in combat. Neither the Israeli nor Palestinian governments are innocent. Hamas is a terror organization and Israel as a country is a very controversial topic. But the people who live there… The innocent civilians… they should not have to suffer regardless of their nationality. I saw someone say “Just because her service was mandatory doesn’t mean it was right.” Like fucking okay dude if she refused to serve she could go to prison. Idk how long but a few years at least? You can talk about it being the noble thing to do all you want but if you had to choose between 3 years in prison or 1 to 2 years serving as a trainer, which would you choose? It doesn’t make her a bad person. Especially when she went to law school to be a human rights attorney after that and uses her newly garnered fame to advocate for peace and equality for all. She does NOT support the Palestinian genocide. She supports the soldiers in the IDF BUT that’s the same as any people in America supporting our troops. It doesn’t mean you support everything the military does. It means you care about the people risking their lives. She’s a good person and if anything she will bring more light to the situation over there. There are literally people dying over there and the American military is a fucking shitshow itself and you’re going to focus on her?? The woman who says she “wishes no country had the need for an army.” Priorities, people…

soulmates ; kiho

pairing: kiho, hyungwonho
words: 987
prompt: red strings of fate au

Kihyun first saw the red strings of fate when he was seven. It was the wedding of his aunt and the silky red ribbon was tied around her groom’s pinky finger. Kihyun believed in fate and love. Somehow, when Kihyun attended weddings, the red strings of fate appeared before his eyes. He would watch how happy the fated newlyweds were. But after the reception, the strings would be gone once again.

He stopped believing in the power of these strings when he was eleven. It was the wedding of his older sister. The red strings tied around his sister’s wrist ended around the groom’s bestfriend’s pinky. Kihyun never took off his eyes on the male, who managed to plaster a smile on his face the whole ceremony. His eyes, however, screamed in pain. Glassy and tears threatening to fall anytime. During the reception, Kihyun noticed how tangled his sister’s string was. Out of curiosity, he followed the red string and it lead him to the groom’s bestfriend crying his heart out in the back of the building.

Kihyun never mentioned his ability to anyone. He was scared that people would laugh at him or worse, would ask him favors. Kihyun hated doing things for people. Kihyun somehow never showed interest in love or dating. At first he thought that it was because of his busy schedule in medical school. But he figured out that maybe it’s because he feared of loving someone that is not his soulmate.

The sixth time Kihyun saw the red strings of fate was in his bestfriend’s wedding, Hyungwon’s. He was getting married to one of Kihyun’s classmates in med school, Wonho. Kihyun was an introvert, so when he found himself in Wonho’s company, he was surprised. The two hit it off nicely. Wonho became part of Kihyun’s trusted friends. One drunken night, Kihyun told Wonho that he had the ability to see the red strings of fate during weddings. Kihyun felt relieved. It was the very first time that he had told somebody and Wonho only smiled at him.

He introduced Wonho to Hyungwon three years ago and it was love at first sight. Wonho asked for Hyungwon’s hand and after a year of preparation, here they are. Kihyun arrived at the beach where the wedding will happen. He was a bit late so he decided against going to Wonho’s room and headed to Hyungwon’s instead.

The tall male looked stunning in an all-black suit with a white tie. Apparently, Wonho would be wearing white suit and a black tie. He accompanied the taller to the venue, together with their other friends.

Changkyun, who was holding Jooheon’s hand, had an arm around Kihyun’s shoulder. “When are you getting married, hyung?” He teased but there was a hint of worry in his voice.

Kihyun only smiled at the younger, ruffling his hair. He always loved seeing Changkyun and Jooheon together. Their strings tied on both their wrists, connected and never tangled. He never had the heart to tell Hyunwoo and Minhyuk that their strings was not connected unlike this fated couple.

As they took their seats in the front row, Kihyun can’t help but stare at Wonho. How he looked dashing in his all white suit, the black bow snug around his collar. His hair was slicked back and he wasn’t wearing his lip ring but he had his studs in his ears, just like how Hyungwon liked them. The male was grinning widely and just like how Kihyun guessed, tears streaked down his face. He can’t keep his eyes off however, the red string tied around Wonho’s wrist. Silky and red, just like how he’d seen it before. But it was different.

The string made his heart swell and his mind go in frenzy. His palms were sweating and his eyes stung with tears. He tried to grasp the red string tied around his own pinky, thinking that maybe he could pull it off. Kihyun gritted his teeth. He wanted to cut it off. He hated it. He loathes it. He hates the and how it was beautifully blood red, silky and soft. And how it was it met Wonho’s own string.

The wedding proceeded with Kihyun’s head pounding and heart clenching. Changkyun had asked him if he was okay, countless times. Kihyun lied and said he was okay.

It was the first time he saw Hyungwon cry. The tall male was grinning from ear to ear but there were tears of joy in his eyes. The wedding is done and they were in the reception.

“I’m so happy for you,” Kihyun smiled painfully, wiping Hyungwon’s tears. The younger chuckled through his sobs, hugging Kihyun again.

“You brought him to me. And I am eternally grateful,” Hyungwon whispered in his ear and as Kihyun looked at Wonho whilst he embraced his best friend, he can’t help the tears flowing.

Hyungwon pulled away, giving Kihyun’s forehead a peck before he walked off to talk to the other guests.

“I know you see it too,” an all too familiar voice sounded and Kihyun made sure his voice isn’t shaky before he spoke.

“See what?” He asked, looking up at Wonho who stared down at him. He didn’t know what Wonho was thinking. His eyes were blank and his face is pulled in a frown.

“These goddamn strings,” Wonho sighed, closing his eyes momentarily. “I see them too.”

Kihyun chuckled albeit hoarse and painful. His knees were weak yet he wanted to run away and curse fate forever.

“It doesn’t matter now, does it?” He said, wiping his tears with the back of his hand. “You love Hyungwon and Hyungwon loves you.”

“But—”

Kihyun cut him off by placing a hand on Wonho’s shoulder. He gripped, as if it would take away the pain in his heart.

“I’m just your soulmate, Wonho. But I’m not the one you love. That’s where fate decided to be a bitch.”