awful stories

All this anti marriage equality campaign stuff is honestly getting to us . The constant ads about how marriage equality is wrong and that by “voting ‘yes’ means that children in schools will be forced to wear skirts and question their gender and sexuality” etc etc . Its fucking awful , i hate seeing stories from news outlets in my newsfeed about the survey papers being stolen from peoples mailboxes and being discarded in bins or sent back with 'no’ by strangers , hearing about rocks being thrown through marriage equality supporters houses simply because they are hanging rainbow flags out in support , having the general public not acknowledge it effecting trans people as well as LG people. It makes me upset that my right to be with someone is being debated by the entire country , and it makes Marcey frustrated because she is all for equality, plus Kai , her brother , is bisexual .

And there is still over a month to go with it all 😔

anonymous asked:

It's funny but in my experience, only Jonerys fans can write a decent love triangle between Dany/Jon/Sansa. They always have Jon being tragically torn between the two for pretty legitimate reasons. But when a Jonsa fan tries to write the triangle, they can't help but demonize Dany and make Jon feel like he is punching a baby in the face every time he interacts with her.

Hi anon! 

I have actually read the triangle fics too and I’ve read some damn good Jonerys shipper fics where you can read how genuinely torn Jon is (Roles and Raptures was the first fic where I was genuinely worried that J0nsa could work against Dany and Sansa was a likeable character you could empathise with).

And then there are awful J0nsa stories that write Dany to be a tyrannical one-dimensional brat with basically one line (bend the knee) whose thirst for global dominance can only be rivalled by The Brain.

And then of course there is the J0nsa fan who tries to take Dany’s storyline and just replaces Dany with Sansa because apparently Sansa isn’t allowed to have her own unique storyline. I literally saw a J0nsa fic called “We Sail Together” where the plotpoint was boatsex…..wow.

None of this matters at the end of it because Jonerys is canon. I think that’s how I’m going to finish all of my ant*-posts from now on. The reinforcement that we are canon and therefore we win. Because I too can be petty. Only difference being, I’m right and I win. 

Originally posted by justalittletumblweed

13 reasons why is bad: a summary

- romanticises mental illness 
- incredibly triggering
- no compelling story
- boring main character
- 9000 bike riding scenes honestly what the hell
- main girl wrecks main guys life for no apparent reason
- feels like a john green book, and not in a good way
- just, Yikes

Here is my commission from @gabriel-fucking-agreste​! This was so much fun to do! I’m super thankful that I got to do this incredibly cute prompt. Ugh they’re so precious!

Commissions are still open!

10 years into the future
  • me, a chem teacher: so kids, how was your spring break?
  • some kid: ATTACK ON TITAN SEASON 3 CAME OUT LAST SATURDAY!!
  • me: *softly gasps. a single tear rolls down my cheek* attack on titan season 3....
Beyond hope?

Time for me to blabber about Mutsuki some more because #whynot I see a lot of people saying he’s too far gone to be redeemed, and while his actions are certainly disturbing and someone needs to stop him soon (and he will face consequences for them), I just really, really don’t think “too far gone” fits with the themes of the manga, or with Mutsuki’s character. I could of course be wrong, but we’ve seen plenty of other characters come back from similar acts. (This isn’t to bash any of these characters, because I pretty much love almost all of TG’s characters–except for, like, Tokage et al–and it isn’t to say that people have to like or root for/can’t be mad at Mutsuki; it’s fine for people to have their own opinions.)

We have seen several characters try to kill a main character’s human best friend or romantic interest for purely selfish reasons and go on to be redeemed:

We’ve also seen Kaneki use Shiono against Eto in a similar fashion to how Mutsuki’s using Yoriko, and Shiono actually wound up dead. It is terrible and not okay in any of these circumstances, but it didn’t make Kaneki past the point of no return.

We have seen a violent, sadistic murderer character romantically obsessed with Kaneki to an unhealthy point go on to recover:

Hell, Shuu even helped plan Kaneki and Touka’s wedding celebration for them. Good job, Shuu.

While I desperately hope Mutsuki does not kill Yomo because I love Yomo and the idea of him dying makes me feel sick (and I’m honestly not sure Mutsuki will kill Yomo; if he does I’ll be mad at him but still root for him), we have seen someone who killed a loved one who sacrificed themselves for a main character be forgiven by that character and work alongside them:

Kaneki deliberately chose to ensure that Karren would sacrifice herself for Shuu in order to spare Shuu and Ui. Shuu forgave him for that, and it’s also worth remembering that Amon and Akira forgave Touka for killing Kureo, and Hinami helped Kaneki save Akira even though she knew her father killed her parents.

We’ve seen characters who suffer from mental disturbances engage in acts of extreme violence (including against former friends) and go on to grow:

Takizawa (and Tsukiyama actually) I never thought would get any kind of redemption, and look at him (them) now. You could argue that some of these situations are framed slightly differently by the narrative, but many of them are not. And I haven’t even brought up all the things characters like Kaneki, Amon, Ayato, and Touka have come back from (Touka and Ayato were my original favourite murder children in this series). One of my favourite things about Tokyo Ghoul is how morally gray every single character is–no one is fully evil and no one is fully heroic.

I kind of think the fact that characters are never beyond the point of no return is one of the points of Tokyo Ghoul. Characters who are narratively beyond that point (Furuta) still have shades of gray in them and complex motivations, and the story makes clear it’s their choices that are paving their paths to destruction (which seems to be exactly what Furuta, for example, wants anyways, as he’s essentially given up on ever receiving any kind of love). Characters who want love and a place to belong and prioritize finding it–however messed up, counterproductive, and downright wrong that prioritizing might be–usually do find it eventually, even if it’s not where they expected to find it. Additionally, characters who have people who care about them in particular tend to recover. I’m not saying I see a happy ending for everyone, or even for Mutsuki specifically, but I do expect him to find some peace even if he doesn’t survive the manga, since that’s most consistent with the manga’s themes. 

not the lost princess

because somebody said “write it” when i said this.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’m not the princess,” Liza told the first man who informed her, shocked, how she had the green eyes of the royal family and hair as dark as the late queen’s. She had been joking, of course, pretending to take him seriously as she counted out his change. No one had accused her of being the princess in the first place. Princess Aliara, the last of the royal line of Adamar, had drowned in the Silver Sea ten summers ago. Everyone knew that.

~

“I’m not the princess,” Liza told the old woman, the princess’s childhood nurse, who clutched her hands to her chest the moment she fell off her horse in the castle courtyard. She didn’t want any more confusion than there already was.

There were silver streaks in the woman’s hair and tears in her eyes. “It’s you,” she repeated, as if she hadn’t heard.

“No,” Liza explained, already impatient. “It’s not me. I’m not her.” It was what she had told the royal minister who had been fetched by the man in the shop last week at least seven times by now, but he’d insisted that the other royal ministers had to see her, had to see if she was real, and wouldn’t leave the shop.

“I’m real,” she’d said. “Really annoyed.”

The man’s eyes had filled with tears. That seemed to be happening a lot around her recently. “You sounds just like you did when you were little.”

Liza threw up her hands and told anyone who would listen that this man hadn’t known her when she was a little girl growing up in a costal town far away, but finding out she had lived in some proximity to the Silver Sea only sent everyone into more of a frenzy. In the end she agreed to come, if only because the royal minster would take care of the cost, and the capital city had a real library to visit.

“I’m not the princess, though,” she reminded all the minister’s servants when they bobbed curtsies to her. “Just to be clear.”

~

“I’m not the princess,” Liza told Kara, the girl who had claimed the right to interrogate her first. She was the lost princess’s best friend, or something, and she’d said she was the only one who could possibly tell if this so-called princess was an impostor.

Kara scoffed, hands on her hips and her eyes mistrustful. “Of course you’re not, kid. No one who claims to be Liara is. She’s dead.” But her voice sounded a little more uncertain with each word as she looked Liza over. “So what’s your excuse? What’s your made up story for how you’ve suddenly regained your lost memory and remembered you’re a princess, or whatever?”

Liza glanced around at all the court watching her, still bewildered as to how she was being interrogated as a possible impostor when she’d never claimed to be anyone in the first place, and finally repeated what she’d been saying all day. “My name is Liza. I’m a baker. My parents were bakers before they died. They were not the king and queen. I am not the princess. Can I go to the library now?”

The room filled with deliberating murmurs rather than answers, and Liza leaned back in her seat with a groan.

~

“I’ll give you credit,” Kara said, sounding as if she’d rather do anything else, “you really do look like her.”

“I’m not her,” Liza said, as if repeating it for the hundredth time would make Kara finally believe she wasn’t trying to pretend she was. As if saying it a thousand more times would make half the royal ministers stop thinking she really was.

She wasn’t allowed to go home, not until they’d come to a consensus on her princess-related status. “I’m a prisoner,” she yelled at Alder, the most annoying of the ministers.

“You’re home,” he’d responded fondly, and she’d screamed in a very un-princesslike manner and gone to find Kara, who at least wouldn’t keep asking her if she remember so-and-so-’s name, or how she had tripped on that step and sprained her ankle when she was six.

“When I was six I was frolicking happily on a beach somewhere on the southern coast,” she told Kara crankily. “Not cooped up in this castle.”

Kara laughed derisively. “Oh, honey. Liara’s ship sank near the eastern coast. You don’t even have your story straight.”

But despite Kara’s firm belief that Liza was a liar and a pretender, Liza sensed that her laughter was becoming warmer, and she directed more snide comments at the ministers than she did at Liza. Perhaps, Liza even dared to think, Kara was starting to like her.

Kara noticed that she was being stared at, and half-smiled back. “Don’t be offended. You’re almost as bad of a liar as she was, too. That’s actually a point in your favor.”

Liza rolled her eyes and tugged at Kara’s sleeve to pull her closer. “Show me the way to the library again. I get lost in the halls every time I try to go without you.”

“They say true royalty isn’t capable of being lost in the royal palace.”

“Tell that to the ministers.”

~

“I’m not the princess,” she said automatically, before she’d processed the boy standing in front of her. He was supposed to be the princess’s illegitimately-born cousin, or something. One way or another, he was one of those next in line for the throne if the princess did not magically turn up sometime soon (which she wouldn’t, because she was dead).

“He’d do a rotten job,” Kara had said, curling her lip, when they’d seen him march through the front hall from their little alcove in the balcony. “He can’t be king.”

“Why do you care?” Liza asked, trying to sneak a peak at Kara’s cards.

She pulled her cards away and whacked Liza’s arm lightly with them. “I’m engaged to the throne, silly. The real princess would know that.” But that last sentence was an afterthought. She’d almost entirely stopped accusing Liza of pretending, recently. “And I won’t marry Henry. He makes fun of anyone once their back is turned, and he spreads rumors about whatever he likes, and once he kicked Liara’s puppy because it was in his way.”

“That sounds like an exaggeration.”

Kara shook her head, looking almost grim. This clearly wasn’t one of her jokes. “No. Liara was so angry she threw her shoe at him. Hit him in the head, hard. He was bleeding. It was a big scandal that she would hurt her own cousin, everyone rushed to cover it up with a story about how he fell and hit his head.”

“I take it they didn’t get along?” Now she was worried. If Henry wanted to be king, what would he do to Liara? What would he do to her, if he believed she was the princess? “Is he dangerous?”

“Don’t worry, Liza. I’ll protect you.” She was kidding, her brown eyes soft, but Liza felt a little safer anyway.

~

“I know you’re not,” Henry sneered, and walked past her.

Kara gripped her hand, which was all that kept Liza from running after him to yell about just how many people were pretty sure she was, and how he was a rude, terrible person who would never marry Kara because she wouldn’t allow it, and how someone who kicked puppies was not fit to look at the throne, let alone sit in it, and how, also, he smelled.

He didn’t, but it would have been nice to tell him that. She almost didn’t let Kara pull her away.

~

“I’m not the princess,” Liza said when Alder asked yet again for another retelling of how she’d come to be a baker in a small town far from the castle. She was too tired to go through it again, too frustrated with all these dithering people too scared of having to work out the convoluted succession of a throne that had no obvious heir to accept that their princess wasn’t there to solve the problem.

She was not, however, too tired to notice Henry’s small victorious smile as he sat in the back of the room and listened. Everyone knew that the one year in which the royal throne could remain empty in the wake of the king and queen’s deaths was drawing to a close. An heir would have to be announced soon.

If it wasn’t Aliara— wasn’t Liza— it was almost certainly Henry.

After the horrible, boring meeting was over, she found Kara in the library and bunched up next to her in the window seat too small for two people. “Tell me about the princess,” she said, and Kara complied, because they were both coming to wish, like the ministers, that she was there.

~

One year after the queen of Adamar had passed away with her daughter’s name on her lips, the royal ministers met in the throne room. Liza had denied being the princess to the very last. There was nothing else for it but to declare the heir to the kingdom.

Henry hadn’t stopped smirking since he’d received the message asking him to attend that morning. Kara watched him with a blank face but a sick stomach, thinking how she would never sit on a throne next to his— thinking about running away, grabbing Liza’s hand and running with her back to the beach far from where the princess had died.

It wasn’t fantasy. It was a concrete plan. She had the horses waiting. She felt herself calming as Alder called everyone to attention, knowing that even if they could do nothing for Adamar once Henry was king, at least they could do this.

And then Aliara walked into the room.

No, she glided into the room. She swept in so like a ghost that half the company spooked or flinched, but she was very, very real. She had the green eyes of the royal lineage. She had dark hair braided over her shoulder the exact way the queen used to wear it. She had a smile that was almost, almost smug.

“Please,” Liza said, sweeping a curtsey and lifting her eyes to the sunlight falling through the high glass windows as if she could look any more perfectly innocent. “I must beg your forgiveness. I have been a coward to insist for so long that I could not remember my childhood here, when I have never forgotten my true self. I thought I could bear the shame of never coming forward. I even convinced myself it would be better for Adamar to have my dear cousin as king.” She pressed a hand over her heart. “I’m sorry, Henry, for pretending not to know you, and almost letting this burden fall on your shoulders. But I have seen the light in time. I am here, Alder. I am the princess.”

Henry went pale with fury, meeting her halfway across the wide floor of the throne room and catching her arm so she could not approach the throne.

“Don’t you dare,” he snarled. “We both know you’re a liar. Everyone else will soon realize to. Don’t bother trying to pull it off.”

She yanked her arm back so hard that he was almost unbalanced and fixed him with a glare that had no princess in it and all of the fire she used to pump in her huge ovens at the bakery. “Don’t cross me, cousin. Or do you need me to throw another shoe at your head?”

He faltered just long enough for her to walk past, head held high, and up to the dais. “Come here with the crown, Alder. Careful on the steps. I tripped on them when I was six, you know.”

“Y-yes, princess,” Alder said, hastily coming forward.

She raised an eyebrow, indicating with one hand that there was no one else on the dais with her. “I’m not the princess. I’m the queen.”

~

“I’m sorry,” she told Kara, late that night. It had been a very long day, and her head ached from the weight of the crown, and she only wanted to go to sleep, and she didn’t know if Kara was angry, and didn’t want her to be.

“I’m the one who needs to apologize,” Kara said, stepping closer, reaching out for her hands.

“For?”

“For my false accusations over the past year, of course,” she said with a straight face. “I don’t know how I didn’t recognize you from the beginning.”

“The princess,” the new queen said, unable to figure out full sentences as Kara pulled them closer together, gently pushing strands of her hair back.

“My princess.”

“Yes,” the baker-princess-queen sighed. “That.”

10

*Brushes off dust* It’s been 84 years…

Reunited Friends AU part 9!~
Finally got some free time to work on this! I’ve been busy graduating university, moving out and getting a job, so I’m sorry you had to wait this long. Another bridge part really but hooray for talking it out and now the plot can continue!
Thank you all for your continued support and patience, as well as the lovely messages/tags you have left me. I promise I read them all and greatly appreciate them!! THANK YOU!!

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11]

you know, when i was 13, if i had known there would be an anime about naruto’s son i would have lost my shit. my self insert oc, courtney uzumaki (married to naruto) would have mothered boruto and his sister who’s name escapes me. i would have written that into our god awful rps somehow. it would be right up there with the fact that in our rp canon my self insert oc divorced naruto and instead had sasuke’s children.

6

“Maybe more possible than you realise… My real name is Sabine Wren. I was sent in to get you out.” When Commander Sato’s Rebel Cell receives information that a number of imperial cadets wish to defect to the Rebels, Sabine Wren is sent in undercover to rescue them. The pilots – Wedge Antilles and Derek ‘Hobbie’ Klivian – would become two of the Alliance’s greatest assets, fighting in numerous battles against the Empire. — Wedge Antilles’ revised backstory as an Imperial Fighter Pilot from Star Wars Rebels.

bbc.com
Forbidden love: The WW2 letters between two men - BBC News
Love letters written during World War Two and discovered in a trunk in Brighton reveal a forbidden relationship between two men.

While on military training during World War Two, Gilbert Bradley was in love. He exchanged hundreds of letters with his sweetheart - who merely signed with the initial “G”. But more than 70 years later, it was discovered that G stood for Gordon, and Gilbert had been in love with a man.

At the time, not only was homosexuality illegal, but those in the armed forces could be shot for having gay sex. The letters, which emerged after Mr Bradley’s death in 2008, are therefore unusual and shed an important light on homosexual relationships during the war. What do we know about this forbidden love affair?

Wednesday January 24th 1939

My darling,

… I lie awake all night waiting for the postman in the early morning, and then when he does not bring anything from you I just exist, a mass of nerves…

All my love forever,

G.

Information gleaned from the letters indicate Mr Bradley was a reluctant soldier. He did not want to be in the Army, and even pretended to have epilepsy to avoid it. His ruse did not work, though, and in 1939 he was stationed at Park Hall Camp in Oswestry, Shropshire, to train as an anti-aircraft gunner.

He was already in love with Gordon Bowsher. The pair had met on a houseboat holiday in Devon in 1938 when Mr Bowsher was in a relationship with Mr Bradley’s nephew. Mr Bowsher was from a well-to-do family. His father ran a shipping company, and the Bowshers also owned tea plantations. When war broke out a year later he trained as an infantryman and was stationed at locations across the country.

February 12 1940, Park Grange

My own darling boy,

There is nothing more than I desire in life but to have you with me constantly…

…I can see or I imagine I can see, what your mother and father’s reaction would be… the rest of the world have no conception of what our love is - they do not know that it is love…

But life as a homosexual in the 1940s was incredibly difficult. Gay activity was a court-martial offence, jail sentences for so-called “gross indecency” were common, and much of society strongly disapproved of same-sex relationships. It was not until the Sexual Offences Act 1967 that consenting men aged 21 and over were legally allowed to have gay relationships - and being openly gay in the armed services was not allowed until 2000.

The letters, which emerged after Mr Bradley’s death in 2008, are rare because most homosexual couples would get rid of anything so incriminating, says gay rights activist Peter Roscoe. In one letter Mr Bowsher urges his lover to “do one thing for me in deadly seriousness. I want all my letters destroyed. Please darling do this for me. Til then and forever I worship you.”

Mr Roscoe says the letters are inspiring in their positivity. “There is a gay history and it isn’t always negative and tearful,” he says. “So many stories are about arrests - Oscar Wilde, Reading Gaol and all those awful, awful stories. "But despite all the awful circumstances, gay men and lesbians managed to rise above it all and have fascinating and good lives despite everything.”

February 1st, 1941 K . C. Gloucester Regiment, Priors Road, Cheltenham

My darling boy,

For years I had it drummed into me that no love could last for life…

I want you darling seriously to delve into your own mind, and to look for once in to the future.

Imagine the time when the war is over and we are living together… would it not be better to live on from now on the memory of our life together when it was at its most golden pitch.

Your own G.

But was this a love story with a happy ending?

Probably not. At one point, Mr Bradley was sent to Scotland on a mission to defend the Forth Bridge. He met and fell in love with two other men. Rather surprisingly, he wrote and told Mr Bowsher all about his romances north of the border. Perhaps even more surprisingly, Mr Bowsher took it all in his stride, writing that he “understood why they fell in love with you. After all, so did I”.

Although the couple wrote throughout the war, the letters stopped in 1945.

However, both went on to enjoy interesting lives.Mr Bowsher moved to California and became a well-known horse trainer. In a strange twist, he employed Sirhan Sirhan, who would go on to be convicted of assassinating Robert Kennedy. Mr Bradley was briefly entangled with the MP Sir Paul Latham, who was imprisoned in 1941 following a court martial for “improper conduct” with three gunners and a civilian. Sir Paul was exposed after some “indiscreet letters” were discovered.Mr Bradley moved to Brighton and died in 2008. A house clearance company found the letters and sold them to a dealer specialising in military mail.

The letters were finally bought by Oswestry Town Museum, when curator Mark Hignett was searching on eBay for items connected with the town. He bought just three at first, and says the content led him to believe a fond girlfriend or fiancé was the sender. There were queries about bed sheets, living conditions - and their dreams for their future life together. When he spotted there were more for sale, he snapped them up too - and on transcribing the letters for a display in the museum, Mr Hignett and his colleagues discovered the truth. The “girlfriend” was a boyfriend.

The revelation piqued Mr Hignett’s interest - he describes his experience as being similar to reading a book and finding the last page ripped out: “I just had to keep buying the letters to find out what happened next.” Although he’s spent “thousands of pounds” on the collection of more than 600 letters, he believes in terms of historical worth the correspondence is “invaluable”. “Such letters are extremely rare because they were incriminating - gay men faced years in prison with or without hard labour,” he says. “There was even the possibility that gay soldiers could have been shot.”

Work on a book is already under way at the museum, where the letters will also go on display. Perhaps most poignantly, one of the letters contains the lines: “Wouldn’t it be wonderful if all our letters could be published in the future in a more enlightened time. Then all the world could see how in love we are.”