but it was okay : the most important thing was and had always been her

Rick Riordan won a Stonewall award today

for his second Magnus Chase book, due to the inclusion of the character Alex Fierro who is gender fluid. This was the speech he gave, and it really distills why I love this author and his works so much, and why I will always recommend his works to anyone and everyone.

“Thank you for inviting me here today. As I told the Stonewall Award Committee, this is an honor both humbling and unexpected.

So, what is an old cis straight white male doing up here? Where did I get the nerve to write Alex Fierro, a transgender, gender fluid child of Loki in The Hammer of Thor, and why should I get cookies for that?

These are all fair and valid questions, which I have been asking myself a lot.

I think, to support young LGBTQ readers, the most important thing publishing can do is to publish and promote more stories by LGBTQ authors, authentic experiences by authentic voices. We have to keep pushing for this. The Stonewall committee’s work is a critical part of that effort. I can only accept the Stonewall Award in the sense that I accept a call to action – firstly, to do more myself to read and promote books by LGBTQ authors.

But also, it’s a call to do better in my own writing. As one of my genderqueer readers told me recently, “Hey, thanks for Alex. You didn’t do a terrible job!” I thought: Yes! Not doing a terrible job was my goal!

As important as it is to offer authentic voices and empower authors and role models from within LGBTQ community, it’s is also important that LGBTQ kids see themselves reflected and valued in the larger world of mass media, including my books. I know this because my non-heteronormative readers tell me so. They actively lobby to see characters like themselves in my books. They like the universe I’ve created. They want to be part of it. They deserve that opportunity. It’s important that I, as a mainstream author, say, “I see you. You matter. Your life experience may not be like mine, but it is no less valid and no less real. I will do whatever I can to understand and accurately include you in my stories, in my world. I will not erase you.”

People all over the political spectrum often ask me, “Why can’t you just stay silent on these issues? Just don’t include LGBTQ material and everybody will be happy.” This assumes that silence is the natural neutral position. But silence is not neutral. It’s an active choice. Silence is great when you are listening. Silence is not so great when you are using it to ignore or exclude.

But that’s all macro, ‘big picture’ stuff. Yes, I think the principles are important. Yes, in the abstract, I feel an obligation to write the world as I see it: beautiful because of its variations. Where I can’t draw on personal experience, I listen, I read a lot – in particular I want to credit Beyond Magenta and Gender Outlaws for helping me understand more about the perspective of my character Alex Fierro – and I trust that much of the human experience is universal. You can’t go too far wrong if you use empathy as your lens. But the reason I wrote Alex Fierro, or Nico di Angelo, or any of my characters, is much more personal.

I was a teacher for many years, in public and private school, California and Texas. During those years, I taught all kinds of kids. I want them all to know that I see them. They matter. I write characters to honor my students, and to make up for what I wished I could have done for them in the classroom.

I think about my former student Adrian (a pseudonym), back in the 90s in San Francisco. Adrian used the pronouns he and him, so I will call him that, but I suspect Adrian might have had more freedom and more options as to how he self-identified in school were he growing up today. His peers, his teachers, his family all understood that Adrian was female, despite his birth designation. Since kindergarten, he had self-selected to be among the girls – socially, athletically, academically. He was one of our girls. And although he got support and acceptance at the school, I don’t know that I helped him as much as I could, or that I tried to understand his needs and his journey. At that time in my life, I didn’t have the experience, the vocabulary, or frankly the emotional capacity to have that conversation. When we broke into social skills groups, for instance, boys apart from girls, he came into my group with the boys, I think because he felt it was required, but I feel like I missed the opportunity to sit with him and ask him what he wanted. And to assure him it was okay, whichever choice he made. I learned more from Adrian than I taught him. Twenty years later, Alex Fierro is for Adrian.

I think about Jane (pseudonym), another one of my students who was a straight cis-female with two fantastic moms. Again, for LGBTQ families, San Francisco was a pretty good place to live in the 90s, but as we know, prejudice has no geographical border. You cannot build a wall high enough to keep it out. I know Jane got flack about her family. I did what I could to support her, but I don’t think I did enough. I remember the day Jane’s drama class was happening in my classroom. The teacher was new – our first African American male teacher, which we were all really excited about – and this was only his third week. I was sitting at my desk, grading papers, while the teacher did a free association exercise. One of his examples was ‘fruit – gay.’ I think he did it because he thought it would be funny to middle schoolers. After the class, I asked to see the teacher one on one. I asked him to be aware of what he was saying and how that might be hurtful. I know. Me, a white guy, lecturing this Black teacher about hurtful words. He got defensive and quit, because he said he could not promise to not use that language again. At the time, I felt like I needed to do something, to stand up especially for Jane and her family. But did I make things better handling it as I did? I think I missed an opportunity to open a dialogue about how different people experience hurtful labels. Emmie and Josephine and their daughter Georgina, the family I introduce in The Dark Prophecy, are for Jane.

I think about Amy, and Mark, and Nicholas … All former students who have come out as gay since I taught them in middle school. All have gone on to have successful careers and happy families. When I taught them, I knew they were different. Their struggles were greater, their perspectives more divergent than some of my other students. I tried to provide a safe space for them, to model respect, but in retrospect I don’t think I supported them as well as I could have, or reached out as much as they might have needed. I was too busy preparing lessons on Shakespeare or adjectives, and not focusing enough on my students’ emotional health. Adjectives were a lot easier for me to reconcile than feelings. Would they have felt comfortable coming out earlier than college or high school if they had found more support in middle school? Would they have wanted to? I don’t know. But I don’t think they felt it was a safe option, which leaves me thinking that I did not do enough for them at that critical middle school time. I do not want any kid to feel alone, invisible, misunderstood. Nico di Angelo is for Amy, and Mark and Nicholas.

I am trying to do more. Percy Jackson started as a way to empower kids, in particular my son, who had learning differences. As my platform grew, I felt obliged to use it to empower all kids who are struggling through middle school for whatever reason. I don’t always do enough. I don’t always get it right. Good intentions are wonderful things, but at the end of a manuscript, the text has to stand on its own. What I meant ceases to matter. Kids just see what I wrote. But I have to keep trying. My kids are counting on me.

So thank you, above all, to my former students who taught me. Alex Fierro is for you.

To you, I pledge myself to do better – to apologize when I screw up, to learn from my mistakes, to be there for LGBTQ youth and make sure they know that in my books, they are included. They matter. I am going to stop talking now, but I promise you I won’t stop listening.”

petrichordiak  asked:

can i hear more about the class you hijacked? (this doesnt have to be private)

I actually got out of bed just so I could go full rant about this on my  computer, so y’all buckle up (thank you for giving me this opportunity lololol)

Okay, so this happened about a year, maybe a year and a half ago. I’m gonna go ahead and make this one public for the benefit of those that didn’t follow me back then, if that’s cool.

Let me preface this by saying that I had taken literally every one of the professor’s classes before then. Partly because they were the only anthropology style class the uni offered, and partly because halfway through the second class I realized that literally everything was the same, except the books, which we never used. Even the assignments were the same, and I had perfected a system of how to do those quickly, easily, and last-minute, lol. So it was pretty much the definition of an easy A, and the prof liked me bc I was nice, actually listened to her even though I’d heard it all before, and didn’t rat her ass out for not actually teaching what she was supposed to, lol.

I should’ve known right there.

So when there was an opportunity to take a Native Americans in North America class with her, I jumped on it. I needed the hours, I obviously knew a lot on the subject already, and it would be another easy a, if history was anything to go by. 

It became one of the most frustrating classes I have ever taken.

As always, the class started the same as the others. We started out learning about vocab and models. NBD, we’d get to specifics eventually, right?

Now there are about 16 to 18 weeks in your average semester.

By week 6 we had yet to learn anything about Native history. She’d assigned some reading about the moundbuilder’s archeological sites, but nothing about the modern day. Maybe she was just taking it slow, I thought, though I was bothered by her only talking about Natives in the past tense. But she’d told me in the first class I’d taken with her (years ago by now) that she was enrolled Native, so I didn’t call it out immediately. 

We get to week 8, halfway through the semester, she hadn’t covered anything. No mention of treaties, modern movements for civil rights, AIM (American Indian Movement), the illegal overthrow of Hawai’i, buffalo kill offs, smallpox blankets, Chicago museum’s bullshit, NAGPRA (a law protecting grave sites and demanding the return of remains to their Nation by museums and sites, if the Nation will accept them (sometimes they allow the remains to be housed by the museum bc they’re typically more secure there, but that’s very rare)) beyond how it affected archeologists, the different regions, the language families, ghost dance, the flooding of lands by companies illegally, human zoos, RESIDENTIAL SCHOOLS, THE FUCKING TRAIL OF TEARS, NOTHING.

Like your 4th grade history segment, as racist as it probably was, probably was more informative than this bitch was being, okay? And I was getting mad. Y’all know me. Native activism is a huge part of my life, and has been for years. Students were being allowed to say really racist shit unchecked. The prof wasn’t teaching jack. Misinformation was being spread, even by the prof.

It felt like even in a class dedicated to us, we didn’t matter. Our history didn’t matter. 

I was fed up.

Then, she pissed me the absolute fuck off. She proceeded to spend the rest of the class talking about South America.

Now, our Indigenous family below the equator absolutely deserve to be discussed. They have so many issues that really, really need to be boosted and respected. We do not raise their voices often enough. But this was a class specifically about North America, and her reasoning for making it otherwise was racist in so many ways.

First, she changed the curriculum outside of its scope because she was “MORE INTERESTED IN SOUTH AMERICA, AND WOULD HAVE TO DO RESEARCH TO TALK ABOUT” the issues I was publicly demanding to know when she would cover. As if her personal interest and ignorance were more important than our lives. 

(side note, it turns out she was lying about being enrolled and Native. Her white supremacist brother (not even kidding) had said that a Cherokee woman chief in Minnesota or some shit had enrolled them. I asked her if she meant Wilma Mankiller, the first modern female Cherokee chief. She said no, it was someone else, and in the late nineties, after Wilma would’ve no longer been Chief. I publicly called her out, and even another student jumped in to help, because there was no other woman Chief then, and there was no recognized Nation that far North. Her white supremacist brother had lied bc he felt othered while working near the Din’e on a job site, bc they didn’t include his racist ass, lol. So she’d lied her way into being allowed to teach a class she didn’t even know or care about. So at this point, I was fucking done with her, lol)

She also was showing us old propaganda films, and literally every group she discussed was being painted as ignorant, warlike savages by her and the materials. She even defended a man that intentionally exposed Indigenous peoples with no immunity to certain diseases to said diseases ‘just to see what would happen.’ She recommended his books, including ‘Noble Savages’ to us. I shouldn’t have to explain why that’s racist, lmao.

All of this is to say that I was VERY fed up, she (and the class) was VERY racist, and she was going down.

Then her foolish self decided to assign a massive project where we were supposed to ‘teach the class’ about a Native subject (y i k e s, esp. since the class was full of non-Natives). Since I was Fed Up, I decided to skip the usual schooling on cultural appropriation to instead teach everyone (including her) about just a smattering of the important things she hadn’t even mentioned in passing. :)

What followed was a 33 page powerpoint.

Apologies for any inaccuracies, and blanket tw for slurs, racism, death, csa, torture, child abuse, etc etc etc

(I added all the regalia pics bc they made me happy and calmed me down, which I was gonna need. I set the presentation up as “Man, I sure had trouble deciding what to make my presentation about. Should I talk about X? Y? Z? This? That? This? And so on until I reached residential schools and Reconciliation as my discussion topic.)

I hope those gifs work. If not, they should be under my “Oka Crisis” tag, or “n i fn a history” and “n i fn a protests” tags. I also had decided early to use the Nations actual names where possible.

Oh look, a quick and easy way to make people realize THIS IS WHY YOU DON’T FUCKING REFER TO US AS SLURS, and here’s how to discuss the issue without being additionally harmful.

OH LOOK, SOURCES

#FreeLeonardPeltier

Getting progressively angrier at this point. The class is smart enough to stay silent.

#MMIW #NoMoreStolenSisters. Please bring them home. Whatever it takes.

Stayed on this slide juuust long enough to stare each person in class down.

Oh look, we’re finally hitting my actual topic. Again, shit’s about to get very heavy. Please read only if you can. I will not be glancing over these to check them rn, bc I can’t. I’m sharing just for y’all to see, and hopefully reblog to educate people.

I honestly wept as I worked on this part. I can’t read it again.

Calling it out.

AYUP. Canadians are so nice and their government isn’t problematic at all

There are survivors that are my age, and younger.

Not letting them forget that this isn’t just in the past. It still wounds us.

It still hurts. We’re still recovering.

I included resources for them, including the prof, to actually educate themselves, since our school sure as shit wasn’t going to do it.

A handful of my sources.

Anyways. I was done. So fucking done. She (the prof) still tried to guide the class back and pretend that it was acceptable that she hadn’t taught them anything. I didn’t let her. I reminded them all that the only reason that this was Canada focused was bc they’d just had the Truth and Reconciliation reports, whereas the US government hasn’t put any effort into assembling data on their atrocities. Go figure.

Anyways, happy #Canada150 everybody :)

OK to reblog.

“make the princess speak and you will have the crown of kings.”

my knees hurt, as usual, from scrubbing. technically i’m too high of Maid Station to help out with these things, but i like seeing what happens when you clean. the development of things. how a lot of effort can make something. i like learning and trying and working hard to get towards something.

and i’ve seen them, from the back of pillars, from behind cracked doors, from beside her (on the best days) the way they talk to her. oh beautiful won’t you just look at me. oh darling. if you speak i’ll be your prince. if you speak i’ll be your king. 

the princess, i know, finds the lines of suitors boring. it’s in the way her hands are always moving. she hides yawns, leaves early, we make her apologies. once, a man comes and tries to startle her into screaming. she rolls her eyes and looks directly at me. i have to hide my smile behind my sleeve. he is taken away while still screaming.

by accident, i find her once, crying. when we imagine princesses, they always cry daintily. hers is hoarse, angry, and something in it breaks me. in my station i should apologize and bow and leave. instead i am frozen, watching her shoulders heaving.

she looks up and spots me, her cheeks ruddy. i know i should go but instead i make a big show. i act as one of her princes. i make grand gestures and speak in deep voices. i frantically offer her handkerchiefs and trip over my own two feet. a smile crawls up over her, slowly. i dab my sweat away and offer her the used rag. i feign a fluster, turn a terrible cartwheel, make shadow puppets. the sound of her laugh, raw and rusty, sends shivers through me.

for a while, i do not see her after this. but then i am called to her chambers. she is crying again. i offer silly gifts, pebbles and dusting rags and a candlestick from her own kitchen, pretend to steal it, use it as a hat, rock it as a babe. she laughs more easily this time, gladly, and when she laughs i am taken by more important maids, thereby officially Excused.

it goes like this for months. the winter comes. i rarely see her. i spend my week thinking about ways to please her. i knick interesting cookies, show her shiny buttons, learn to cartwheel in a full skirt, and then promptly how to make it look foolish again. i learn how to juggle hot bread and dance as a man would, i learn how to balance on a ball and how to fall down without hurting myself, how to fake a fight with my own body, which colors she likes and which don’t please her.

i show up on a cold eve with a knotted line of scarves hidden down my sleeve, worried and breathless, wondering why she’s been crying. the door opens and she is sitting there, happy. at first i’m confused, but she waves me in. next to her is her small dessert, in two containers. i’m not sure how to respond, so i fake a fall to hear her laugh, and then sit at her feet. she gives me ice cream - so rare a treat. i know what went into making it - the hours of shaking. it’s smooth and tasty. i don’t feign my reaction, but she laughs anyway, kindly. 

it goes like this. i see her more frequently. she likes giving me new things, watching me discover i hate kiwi and love oranges and would die if it made her laugh breathlessly. i’ve made her keel over with cackling and she’s put a fire in me. sometimes we just sit there, quietly, enjoying each other’s company. 

it’s in her hands, always moving. little things i thought were just her, fidgeting. here’s how she says she’s thirsty, this is what her hands do when she needs a second to think, here’s how she shows she’s happy. this is how i learn to speak back to her. around her i spend much of my time smiling. i feel every visit is a gift. a new part to unravel. i find out she doesn’t respond to spoken things, that she needs to be looking in order to know you were speaking. sometimes she has me talk and she holds her hands to the base of my throat, her eyes wide and wondering. sometimes she just looks at me and i forget that i’m her jester in chief. i get caught up in her eyes, in how expressive they are when she’s happy, in how when she’s sad i feel like i’m drowning.

i never see the king or queen, but i know when she’s had a visit with them, because she never comes back happy. two winters i have known her, two winters and now we dine frequently. i am often called to stand beside her, to whisper translations of her desires into the ears of someone more important than i, someone who gets to be the voice of royalty. i can’t decide if i’m her friend or her plaything, but i don’t know i care much of the distinction. every moment i’m near her is a moment free of friction. i take stock of suitors and curtsy to them in daylight only to mock them in the candle’s eye later.

she asks me one night to stay. it has been a bad day. it’s completely not okay. i cannot say no but i cannot, by my station, stay. but she begs with her eyes and her hands and i know i’ll take the punishment. 

we lie beside each other. i make sure to turn to her when i speak. in the dark she can’t see me, so i move my hands in the way i’m learning. she asks if i am ever lonely. i cannot tell her that i am always lonely without her beside me, so instead i say i think all people are very lonely and just are pretending. she laughs a little at that and says she thinks her parents are the two most lonely people that ever met. her mother was like her; broke a fairy curse and talked, just once, although nobody knows what she said. well, excepting her father, who was the only one around, and who won her hand in marriage.

from her mother she learned the art of hands, of speaking without words - from her father she learned that who she was included a curse. that she just wanted someone who would make her open like a rose - someone who could fix her. how she stared out into the royal garden and wished on flowers to be what her kingdom needs.

she fell asleep pressed against me. i couldn’t breathe. i was still awake in the morning. 

the punishment never came. we spent nights like this. the handmaidens had grown to know me. whenever their princess was stubborn, i worked magic and made her lovely.

it was a terrible thing. i did too good a job, i think. the princess glowed too much or shone too brightly - or at least, i saw it that way, so who knows what the truth is. every day it felt like we were being rushed with princes. 

her father’s temper at hosting failed. it was the day before her twenty-first birthday and first time i’d ever seen him. he stormed in at the end of the session. “just speak!” he said, “it’s not that hard! do for others what your mother did!” 

“tomorrow is your last day of this,” he warned her, “either you pick a prince or i pick for you. i’m done with it.”

he stormed off. she was left shellshocked and trembling. that night she didn’t ask me to come, but i waited outside, just in case she changed her mind. i understood why she needed space. either she’d speak and be married tomorrow or she’d be married shortly. i heard her crying and it took everything in my power not to rush in and hold her, cradle her gently. but i cannot come into a room of a royal person without being invited. i stayed there, tears in my own eyes, thinking of treason.

the next day was a huge festival. what had been a birthday celebration was turned into a day about princes. i watched her shake her head. i tried to cheer her up. i tried everything. i frequently came inches from causing public humiliation, toed the line of mocking and failing to acknowledge my station. she wouldn’t smile. not once. not even for anything.

the day was long. the bonfire wore down. i watched her crumple into herself. i was out of ideas. i knelt at her feet. her eyes barely looked at me. just wait, i said to her with my hands, i’ll be right back. i took off running.

the price of stealing is losing my hands. these things that i spoke to her with. these things that mattered so much to me, that helped with my comedy and cleaning. 

i didn’t think of them. i bloodied my fingers when i ripped the royal roses from their stems. and then i ran, as fast as i could, back to her feet. i picked them to show you, i said, as she gasped, looking at my treason, they’re beautiful and nobody told them to open to reveal their secrets to the bees. they are unbroken. as you are. as you always will be. 

she fell off her throne and for a second i was beyond speaking, worried something had happened, or she’d fainted, or i’d said the wrong thing. but then she was on her knees, her arms around me, and i heard it. i heard the soft croak of her speaking. just one word, and it sent shivers down me. my name, in her voice, awkward and unwieldy, but full of love and passion, burning fire through me.

i felt a hand on my shoulder. i was pulled away from her. they already had me in handcuffs while i struggled to get back to her, to tell her i loved her, to beg her to run off with me or maybe just hold me around her, maybe just have her for a moment, because i couldn’t live without her for a moment longer.

they put me in the cells. i rotted in there, for a while or for no time at all, i’m not sure. the thorns scarred my palms. i watched the scabs build up and flake off. every time someone came down, i flinched, wondering if i would be the next to be taken and chopped into bits.

but one day the light was different. not the smoky torch of the jailer, instead a bright light in a lantern. at first when i saw her, my breath caught in my throat, mistaking her for my princess.

but she was my queen. at first we stood in silence. and slowly, i moved my hands to speak. is she married? is what came out, even though i should be more worried about me myself and me.

she is not. she bit her father on the arm when he tried to make her. then she fought him. and then ran away. it took us a bit to find her, i’m afraid. she threatened her own life and the life of everyone in this place. the queen was smiling. i was told there was a young woman who could make the princess speak, whom she would die to save, who brought roses to her feet. someone in a cell, rotting. are you her?

the memory of her voice rang through me. i’m she.

yes, her hands said, for even now, aren’t you speaking to the silent Queen?

she opened the door. come, she said, let’s get you cleaned up for the ceremony.

the crown of kings. when she wraps her arms around my neck and laughs next to me, i am royalty. when she smiles or makes a joke or asks to see my cartwheel again, i’m lost in her. i kiss her whenever i can, which is often. we have roses in a vase at the base of our bed, and for all of the kingdom, i’d give my hands if it would keep her laughing.

the next time she spoke was just once, at our wedding, where she said the two words i do to bind us for eternity. she had learned from me, from holding her hands over my voicebox, the way i learned from her how to use hands to speak. sometimes at night she says my name, just because she likes what it does to me.

i’m more blessed than a king. every day i spend with her is a day i spend happily. 

So imagine after the war, Draco’s friends are thinking okay, Draco was only obsessed with Harry Potter because they were arch enemies but everything will go back to normal now. And then eighth year starts and nothing changes?

Draco is still staring at Harry Potter over the other side of the Great Hall, at breakfast, at lunch and at dinner. He still talks about how the great Harry Potter gets this or the boy who lived gets that. And the Slytherin are like ??? Why are you still obsessed with Harry? And Draco’s like ??? I’m not. We’re enemies remember? And his friends have to tell him no not anymore. You’re on the same side.

So Draco’s very confused for a while, not sure how he should be acting. And then he realises, even though he no longer hates Potter’s guts, he still wants to stare at him every meal. He still wants to find excuses to talk about him to his friends. He still wants to make snarky comments to Potter every class…but only because it’s the only time he gets to talk to him.

Despite all the warnings, it still hits Draco way too abruptly when he realises he’s in love with Harry Potter. He’s in the middle of a potions double when his eyes, completely of their own accord, latch on to Potter turning his head and laughing at something the Weasel said. Draco stares and stares as the realisation washes over him. He keeps staring even long after Potter has turned his head back to the front of the class and all he can see is messy black hair.

Pansy works it out first. Even before Draco’s potions epiphany. Although for once she understands the importance of keeping her mouth shut. So when Draco comes to her with his revelation, she is not at all surprised. And she is here to help. She convinces Draco to cool it with the snarky comments and work up the courage to actually talk to Potter.

And so - with plenty of encouragement - Draco does. At first it’s just small things like asking Potter for a spare quill in class, or saying excuse me politely as they pass rather than pushing into Potter. And then one day Draco works up the courage to say good morning to Potter when he runs into him in the Great Hall during breakfast. And Potter says good morning right back, albeit with a puzzled expression on his face.

Soon, Potter no longer looks puzzled. When Draco greets him, he returns the sentiment with a smile, that seems to grow with each day. It’s that smile which gives Draco the push he needs to approach Potter in the library one night and ask if he might like to share his table. An enthusiastic yes from Potter lights a small spark of hope in Draco’s pining heart.

Studying together becomes a habit most nights. It starts off silently, Draco happy to share his space with Potter but too nervous to think of anything further to say past a simple greeting. Thankfully one day it’s Potter who starts the first conversation. It’s one of those awkward small talk type conversations about the weather but it leads in to an animated discussion of Quidditch that keeps them talking well into the night, ignoring several reprimands from Madam Prince for being too loud in the library.

And so Draco and Harry - he’s no longer Potter - become friends. And Draco’s happy. Happier than he’s been in a long time. And his friends know. Not just Pansy. All the Slytherins. It’s obvious. Because despite spending most of his free time hanging out with Harry Potter, and professing to have no remaining hate for him at all, Draco still stares at him across the Great Hall, at breakfast, at lunch and at dinner.

And so Slytherins, being Slytherins, begin planning, with Pansy at the lead of course. They already know how Draco feels, they only need to get Harry Potter to realise his own feelings too, which they suspect match Draco’s. Because he might have his head down in the Great Hall but they’ve seen Harry stare at Draco during Quidditch games for far longer than strictly necessary.

And so they do something that Draco would completely disapprove of, solely for Draco’s own good. When they know Harry will be walking by the Quidditch lockers after a Gryffindor practice, they plant two of their own at a nearby bench and have them talking far louder than normal conversation requires.

“It’s really rather embarrassing. Draco’s been pining for ages. I’ve never seen anyone who had it so bad.”

“But who do you mean? I’ve only seen him hanging out with Potter.”

“Exactly. Potter. It’s tragic isn’t it? He’s in love with the boy who lived. He should probably queue up like all the other groupies just to get his autograph.”

While the two younger Slytherins continue their staged and poorly acted performance, (Pansy will have words with them later) Pansy, safely hidden with a disillusionment charm, watches Potter’s reaction closely and is not displeased. At the sound of Draco’s name, Potter stops immediately to eavesdrop which is telling in itself. When his own name comes into play, a blush creeps slowly up his face. And when Draco’s love for him is revealed, an involuntary smile appears on Harry’s face very very quickly. Pansy knows now they only have to wait.

Sure enough, at dinner that night, Harry Potter makes his move. Always one for dramatics, he walks right up to the Slytherin table and plants a short but deliberate kiss square on Draco’s face before Pansy even has time to let out a wolf whistle.

Draco sits there, mouth agape, pale face not so pale for once, until another Slytherin gives him a nudge on the shoulder. He looks up and blinks at Harry Potter who is smiling down at him. Once more Harry’s smile brings him courage. He stands up to meet Harry, conscious of every eye in the Great Hall on him, and kisses Harry Potter right back.

And it’s the Slytherins who lead the cheers that erupt across the Great Hall. Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. At last.

I’m late but I’m watching don’t hurt yourself rn like wow now we know why Beyonce went out here & tapped one of the most iconic rock musicians to help her cuss her man out. I remember one of my relatives saying that Jack White was singing on Don’t Hurt Yourself like Bey was his sister and he was letting her trifling man know what it was.

I don’t even know how to feel about the whole thing b/c I’m not a proponent of a woman staying w/ a partner that cheats ever. I always figured that Solange was throwing hands b/c Jay cheated & I guess it should have been clear that he had to have been really grimey to her sister to elicit that kind of reaction.

I weirdly expected more from Jay Z even though I sort of always knew he didn’t deserve Beyonce b/c so many men are with women they don’t deserve and treat poorly.

I adored the push party photos and look forward to seeing the new babies pics. I’m not saying I want her home to be broken up but I would not have been mad if Beyonce had left him and went and found a fine young billionaire to have wild thoughts with in pools, okay?

The past 2 weeks have shown me that too many Black men think that making Black women suffer for their lackluster, thin love is a good thing. I think the albums the carters have made r really important & I think they open up vital convos about black love and romance they need to be had.

These albums push the importance of accountability, introspection, living an examined life. I’m hoping it will push Black men to think about how they harm Black women and black LGBT folk who are the only ppl who have their backs in this harsh, racist society. That it will push them to deal with their shit individually & collectively and stop projecting it onto us (i.e. Kodak Black who, as others have noted, hates himself & his Blackness). It’s hella distressing to realize that Black women will walk through fire to help Black men but that so many Black men like to insult and mock us for not meeting their colorist and racist beauty standards.

In an interview Molly Crabapple said smthing like men have gotten women to buy into this idea that our beauty is the most valuable thing about us and that the more beautiful we are, the better they’ll treat us. And we can see that this isn’t true, we can be the most beautiful woman in the world and they will still act a fool.

Jay had the girl everyone wanted and yet he was still running in these streets. Clearly he, and not his wife, was deficient. It shows me that a man’s character is important. If he has no character it doesn’t matter what a woman does he will still mistreat her.

Anyway 4:44 is good, I hope Yonce’s happy with her choice and as always I wonder what it looks like for Black women to have a love that edifies and liberates and that does not demand suffering to keep it.

SDCC SU Panel stuff!

- Zach: “Rebecca, what can you tell us about what’s to come next on Steven Universe?”
Rebecca: “I’m really excited, well … We’ve had these incredibly huge events lately, and we’re just gonna see the fallout, this bomb, there will be HUGE consequences to everything that’s happened, and the rollercoaster has sort of rocketed forward from here on out, so these next episodes were really exciting to make.”

- A VERY intense trailer was shown of what’s to come next. I couldn’t see it, I could only hear it. The audio I transcribed below:
Pearl: “I thought you’d see it someday, but … I thought I’d be there with you.”
Steven: “You’re safe! You’re here! I’m here! We’re safe, everything’s fine.”
Connie: “But it’s not, though.”
Steven: “I just wanted to save everyone, but I couldn’t even do that. I don’t know how I’m gonna get you out of this. Are you doing okay?”
Sadie: “Well, I’m worried about Lars being in space, and I hope he’s safe and all.”
Blue or Yellow Zircon: “You RAN?! From Blue and Yellow Diamond?!!”
Greg: “I don’t know anything about Homeworld, I don’t know anything about your (intangible), you guys have to put it in the contest!”
Pearl: “There are things on Earth that are impossible for me to explain. But I want to.”
Lapis: “They’re gonna take her anger out on this planet, just like they did before. I WON’T let myself get caught up in another war.”
Peridot: “Earth is our home now! Isn’t it worth fighting for … ?”

- A new Save The Light trailer was shown, and a new Peridot was revealed in the game! Her name is ‘Squaridot’, she has square hair, limb enhancers, and a left eye gem.

- Q: “Would Rainbow Quartz be the same or different with Steven?”
Rebecca: "Rainbow Quartz 2.0 would variably be different …….. it …….. Forget I said that. That’s a very good question thank you.”

- Q: “Have we seen the full extent of Lion’s powers?”
Rebecca: “I don’t think we’ve seen the full extent of Lion’s abilities yet”, etc.

- Q: “Which Off Color do you relate the most to and why?”
Rebecca: “Rhodonite. The neurotic one.”
Zach: “Padparadscha.”
Deedee: “Padparadscha.”

- Q: “I was wondering if there was any challenges making the music for the show?”
Rebecca: “Oh of course, we don’t get any extra time to do episodes with songs in them than episodes without songs in them. I think the most challenging one was Mr. Greg.”

- Q: “While making the show (cont.), I’ve been a creator for a long time, and I just had to ask: Do you gauge if something’s gonna be really popular? Like Padparadscha immediately became an enormous meme.”
Rebecca: “I think we focus on loving what we’re making. We all love Padaparadscha, so … I suppose it wasn’t a surprise to see people loved her too. I think some of the stuff that catches on is the fun ideas we have, and that was one of those where someone at a big writer’s meeting pitched that concept of a Sapphire that sees the past and we all just loved it instantly (cont.) … and thought how sweet that would be. And I always thought of Sapphires being Zelda-esque, so I really wanted a sort of Peach to contrast her Zelda.”

- Q: “Was Lars becoming pivotal something you planned from the beginning?”
Rebecca: “I think it happened naturally, because Lars was one of the oldest characters in the show. I was drawing Lars and Sadie back in college. They’re older than Steven Universe. I think they were always gonna be very very important.”

Why Wonder Woman was so Important to Me

I had the opportunity to see Wonder Woman recently, and I was left awestruck.  Wonder Woman is such a timeless character, and I feel this story and the way the film was made really captured the heart of the original character.  With DC’s track record, it had a high chance of being lazy and bad.  But it wasn’t.  It was original. Refreshing. I cried a lot, and here’s why.

1. Women Are Strong 

I’m not one to loudly complain about the misrepresentation of women in media (though we often are).  We’ve had some really awesome and strong female characters over the past couple years.  But somehow, Wonder Woman took this in a completely new direction.  Watching the Amazons fight the invaders on the beach nearly brought me to tears.  It was so special for me to see women take on roles we rarely see them in.  They were the fighters, the protectors, the providers.  There are many women out in the world right now who are fighting their own battles, much like the Amazons.  They’re providing for their families or serving their countries through the military.  It was a pleasant reminder that while men and women have differences, they are equally strong and skilled.

(Also yay for a female director!)

2. Actions Speak Louder

Many times, Wonder Woman is questioned.  She’s scoffed at for being a women (which would have been very common during that time).  She’s underestimated.  But what’s so amazing here is that she never has to prove herself to the men.  It would’ve been so easy for the movie to fall into that common trope.  She never argues with a man and she focuses her attention on others instead of herself.  She wants to kill Ares and stop the war. And in the end, her actions speak louder then her words ever could.  What I took from this is to rise to action.  Stop talking and start doing.  Ignore what others say, because you know what you can do.  Hold your head high and rise above.

3. Mutual Respect Brings the Most Success

As I said before, it would have been easy for the film to fall into certain tropes.  A trope we often see nowadays is a woman proving that she (or all women) are better then men.  That’s never a point of conflict in this film.  Her love interest, Steve, fights as her equal.  He isn’t clumsy or weak to make Wonder Woman look stronger.  He believes in her and helps her to the best of his ability. When they become interested in each other romantically, they both hold their own.  They love each other but are not dependent on one another.  We see the rest of the men in their gang react the same way later on.  They all eventually come to love and respect Diana.  It’s a great reminder that feminism is about collaboration and equality, not one gender being better then the other.  We each have something to bring to the table and our differences are what makes us stronger. 

4. It’s Okay to not be Okay

There’s a really interesting character in Wonder Woman’s gang named Charlie.  He’s supposed to be the world’s top shooter, but time and time again he fails.  He seen some things that have damaged him pretty heavily.  What’s really interesting about this character is that we never see this issue resolved.  He doesn’t have his big “hero moment” where he is suddenly able to shoot and save the day.  This is so much like real life.  We’ve all been hurt, and it’s ok to be damaged.  You have nothing to prove, but your great efforts will help everything to turn out right in the end.  At one point, Charlie even says to Diana “You don’t need me, you’re better of without me.” To this she replies “No, Charlie, if you’re not here, who will sing?” This implies that Charlie is still a valued member of the group, despite his shortcomings.  His friends are able to recognize his other strengths when he cannot.  


5. There is Much Darkness in the World, But Love Will Save the Day

Not much to say here, as Diana said it all in her own monologue:

“I used to want to save the world, to end war and bring peace to mankind. But then I glimpsed the darkness that lives within their light. I learnt that inside every one of them there will always be both. The choice each must make for themselves - something no hero will ever defeat. And now I know… that only love can truly save the world. So now I stay, I fight, and I give - for the world I know can be. This is my mission now, for ever.”

Often times love is portrayed as a great weakness. But it isn’t.  To love is to truly see beauty in the world.  To love is to be brave and strong.  Love is the greatest power of all.  

Additional Notes:

We must learn to forgive.  Diana had the opportunity to kill the chemist responsible for Steve’s death.  And she chose not too, instead focusing on the larger problem at hand and in turn leaving the past in the past.

There were not gratuitous or sexualized shots of the women in the film.  The framing was based around the action.  The women were all beautiful, but the film relied on it’s story and the strength of it’s lead rather then her beauty. 

There will always be hardship. There isn’t always one bad guy to fight.  We all will have to continue to fight our demons and endure through our trials.  But it’s the light and the love, those precious moments, that we fight for.

Thanks Wonder Woman.  You inspired me, and I’m so grateful.  I don’t think I’ve seen a superhero movie with more heart.  There will be many days ahead where I think “What would Wonder Woman do?” 

*I may edit and add on to more of this at a later time, but I wanted to get my initial thoughts out!

Pixar COCO ¡Viva México!

Ok, ok, so I recently went to see the movie and let me tell you something… it’s more than just a movie, es una obra de arte.

I’m not joking, really, my expectations went beyond what I thought. It was amazing in every way. Well, maybe I’m gonna make some spoilers, but I found myself in need of telling you my experience as a Mexican point of view.

Because yes, I’m proudly Mexican.

  • 1. Estás muy flaco, ¡come más!

This is funny. 

In each family, at least in mine, it is normal that your grandmother wants to feed you because, according to her, you are very thin. And this reminded me a lot of my grandmother, whom I sweetly called Yaya. And yes, she is a strong, very determined woman who always fills my plate with lots of food. 

But my Yaya’s food is always the best.

Originally posted by musicalhog

  • 2. El maravilloso ambiente

There was no time to take the eyes off every scene, every color, every sound, literally. In the land of the living, the colors were relatively balanced, since it is a village, when dusk comes, which illuminates each house in a beautiful orange color. The colorful cemeteries and ofrendas captivated me greatly, for the passion with which we adorn the tombs of our departed is more than a tradition; is a connection that even Death itself can never take away.

Originally posted by musicalhog

  • 3. ¡Música maestro!

My God, I can’t believe Disney has started its own theme with Mariachi music. 

AY, AY, AY!!

That. was. Phenomenal. 

The rest of the film, when I started to hear the voices of each character singing, dancing or even playing guitar, I almost felt like jumping and singing, clapping and dancing. If anything you must be sure, is that when a Mexican hears that kind of music, mariachi, trumpets, violins, the shoe, the drums, gives him an infinite desire to be celebrating forever.

Originally posted by wrlockbane

  • 4. La Chancla

La abuelita threatening everyone with la chancla. 

That’s typical of mexican family. No, seriously. Once my Yaya threw me la chancla voladora when I was little and I was running and they had yelled at me to stop. That could not be missing!

If you have never been threatened with la chancla, or much less have hit you with it, trust me, as a mexican you had no childhood.

Originally posted by auroras-boreales

  • 5. La Llorona

Originally, the song La Llorona is sung by Chavela Vargas. If you have never heard of it, I strongly recommend that you do so. That was totally amazing! 

“Ay, de mí llorona. Llorona, de azul celeste. Ay, de mí llorona. Llorona, de azul celeste…”

“Y aunque me cueste la vida, llorona, no dejaré de quererte. Y aunque me cueste la vida, llorona, no dejaré de quererte…”

Miguel’s great-great-grandmother sang it with such sentiment made me shed tears, because I’ve heard it since I was a little girl. My grandmother sometimes sings it when she’s cooking.

  • 6. Ay, Ernesto, no te rajes

Yes, yes, YES!!!

I actually knew that Ernesto de la Cruz was inspired by Pedro Infante and Jorge Negrete. OH, MY GOD! I love this man so much!

Originally posted by andyjwest

Maybe you can remember Jorge with the song Ay, Jalisco no te rajes! (From the movie The Tree Caballeros) There are other songs that I recommend you to hear. But my favorite has always been that.

Yo soy Mexicano, Mexico Lindo, Ella, Entre suspiro y suspiro, El Abandonado, and more…

  • 7. Alebrijes

Actually, this was a very original idea that I loved. 

Alebrijes are imaginary beings made up of physiognomic elements of different animals, a combination of several animals, not only fantastic but also real.
They’re handicrafts made with the technique of the cartonería, that they are painted with joyful colors and vibrant.

Alebrijes are one of the many wonders of Mexican art and a pride and the hallmark of Oaxaca. Having a alebrije or a collection of them at home is considered good luck and it is said that happiness will accompany anyone who owns one of these works of art. In addition, owning a alebrije is to possess the best of Mexican art, so vast, so colorful, so full of life and a beauty recognized internationally.

  • 8. La Familia es primero

Even though The Book of Life is also another of my favorite movies, something made me even love more Coco than this. 

Family.

Originally posted by disneymusic

It may sound a little… cliché, but for me the family has always been the most important thing. In fact, I quite identified with Miguel’s family. I could see in my own flesh not only my grandmother, but my uncles, my cousins and my other relatives. We don’t live in one house, we live in different places.

Traditionally my grandfathers are doctors, and they wanted my mother to be a doctor, but she preferred to study theater just as my father studied music. And there could be no doubt that her own daughter would also want to be an artist.

When I first went to Europe to visit the Universities, my grandmother, who repudiated the idea of being an artist, came to me one day and said to me: “It’s your life, you decide what you want and what you choose will be always good for me.”

The love of the family is so different and so unique, that to a certain point it made me realize that I do not need love of a couple if I have people that I can always talk to and who can support me too.

  • 9. Recuérdame

This song was definitely the best of the best. Full of feelings, full of dedication, I should applaud the effort for composers, I haven’t had the privilege of hearing it in English, but I think you should also listen to it in Spanish, and I say it because the song sounds infinitely cool. and with the voice of the characters, made my skin prickly and shed more tears.

“Hasta que en mis brazos tú estés… Recuérdame…”

  • 10. Mama Coco

This, without a doubt, is my favorite. The entire character of mama Coco.

She may not appear more than some scenes from the entire film, but she is a very important and very captivating character. The relationship she has with Miguel is very special, an old mind woman and a big-hearted young man, the love of grandparents or great-grandparents is so strong and has no limits…

I have lived with my great-grandparents since I was two years old, and I loved them with all my heart just like them to me.

They are no longer with me…

But that does not mean that I have forgotten them. I remember them every day, every moment, when I least expect it, I sometimes dream about them. Sometimes I ask my grandparents how they were as young people, and I could imagine their lives in black and white films, where they wore dresses and suits.

The times of my great-grandfathers were hard, but were also beautiful, they enjoyed their entire life and were happy. Mama Coco was able to leave the world knowing that her father loved her and sang for the last time. Recuérdame with her great-grandchild.

What a beautiful scene, so simple, so lovely, that speaks for much.

Originally posted by musicalhog

Believe it or not, I loved Coco more than The Book of Life.

But I don’t think there has to be some anger cause somehow they seem to be something in como. For God’s sake, they do NOT seem at all, at least of the plot. 

Is more than obvious that the producers and the cast made a mega effort to make the film an original work, and yes, it is original, cause there were so many unexpected twists, plus that, again, made me cry.

Don’t hate Coco, really, the movie is worth seeing, and it is such a beautiful and so cute way of putting the family theme. 

The Book of Life talked about fear in being yourself: there is nothing wrong of being yourself and always follow your heart, while Coco talks about that it is okay to follow your dreams, but also think about your family, think about something that goes more beyond your expectations, but what you choose will always have the support of your family.

Two films focusing on Mexico, focusing on El Dia de los Muertos, two films that use direct themes, but that somehow made me realize what Life is like.

So, go ahead, Vive tu momento.

Originally posted by musicalhog

CASTIEL AND HIS SACRED OATH - 12x10, 12x12, 12x23

This scene here. This split second glance is so so important. I don’t know why people aren’t talking about it (I couldn’t even find any gifs of it and had to take pictures coz I’m computerly incompitent). But I wanted to give my own analytical response to this millisecond glance, because I think it demonstrates properly why Cas has never done anything about his feelings for Dean. 

First, some context from my behalf: I always assumed Cas had never admitted his love for Dean for one of two reasons, 1) he was an angel, therefore not quite understanding his feelings himself - perhaps confusing them with familial love, Dean style. Or 2) he was afraid his love may not be reciprocated. But after watching 12x10, 12x12 and 12x23, I can thoroughly rule out reason 1. 

Now, I’ll be talking a lot about 12x10 as that ENTIRE EPISODE and THIS LOOK are so closely correlated. 

Keep reading

Destiel, Bi!Dean and preparing the audience for a “shocker”.

I just did a re-watch of 12x10 and it really got me thinking again about Benjamin and Cas’s talk in the car with the boys about Benjamin and his female vessel.

At the time the episode aired, I think I was so excited about the prospect of Cas being in a female vessel, and how this could potentially shift a heteronormative audiences perception of Dean and Cas that I didn’t realise just what else they were trying to do.

This is about reassurance.

This is the conversation that was had in the car:

CAS: Benjamin is always very careful. Long ago, he found a powerfully devout vessel in Madrid, and her faith, it… she gave him everything – her trust and her body.

DEAN: Wait. So Benjamin’s a woman?

CAS: Benjamin is an angel. His vessel is a woman. But it – it’s – it’s more than that. She’s not just his vessel.

Just this small exchange is important as exposition for the audience. It is about preparing the audience for what is coming up. The idea that Cas was also once ‘a woman’. Which, okay, no he wasn’t a woman, he just had a female vessel, but imagine how that would have gone down had this exchange not taken place? Imagine how a general audience would have reacted to Cas and his female vessel had Benjamin just been another angel in a male vessel?

Probably a lot like the way Dean acted here, with confusion.

By giving us the Benjamin character and this particular scene as well, the writer has successfully prepared the audience for Cas in his female vessel. Preventing raised eyebrows and confusion because the audience will remember this conversation and apply it to Cas.

“Castiel is an angel, his vessel WAS a woman. His vessel is now a man, Cas is still a dude and it’s not weird. Cool beans.”

(when I think of a general audience watching SPN lets just say that I certainly don’t think of the fandom or tumblr. I think of my brother and that is something I won’t get into here. Heteronormative doesn’t even begin to cover it.)

The fact is, making one of your three main lead male characters a woman for an episode is a weird thing to do, the kind of thing that would probably make some audience members uncomfortable. So adding in this exposition, this reassurance, removes that level of discomfort, it gets them used to the idea first, like a buffer.

See for a show like SPN, whilst its always been a bit weird with its story lines, it’s never been all that progressive. As much as we would all like to wish that all SPN viewers were like us – liberal forward thinking people who are willing and eager for TV to break a few taboos – the chances are that is very much not the case. Its an old show, it has an established audience (apparently a bipartisan audience amazingly) and therefore breaking boundaries the way more modern shows have (such as American Gods, How to Get Away with Murder and Orange is the New Black) just isn’t really in the cards. Those shows established the taboo stories, the queer main characters, the representation, from the start. They built their audience on those foundations. SPN can’t do that without isolating part of its audience – unless it thinks very carefully as to how it may present such notions.

I hope I am explaining this in a way that makes sense. See this is of course about Bi!Dean and Destiel (as if anything on my blog WASN’T about those topics). Because here’s the thing. On any other, newer show, for Dean to come out as bisexual, for two male lead characters to enter into a homosexual relationship, it wouldn’t be a big deal. Those shows could build their audience around those concepts, because they would be ingrained into the show from the start.

For Supernatural, that sadly isn’t the case. SPN didn’t clearly establish Dean as Bisexual early on, and Destiel isn’t canon, it has always been the subject to interpretation with just enough ‘no homo’ so that anyone who chooses not to see it doesn’t have to (again, excluding 12x19 but we’ll get there)

One of the biggest hurdles to getting bi!dean and canon destiel, is for the SPN creators to overcome this fear that half their audience would reject them if they actually went there. It would be seen as coming ‘out of the blue’ and all those heteronormative people would raise their eyebrows and moan and be utterly confused by it.

That’s why Supernatural needs the buffers. It needs the gradual exposition, the subtle desensitisation of a general audience to anything even mildly “progressive”. If Supernatural wasn’t putting these buffers in place already, I would think we would have a problem. I would be much more apprehensive at even the idea that destiel could be a thing that is actually happening.

What is so fantastic, is that just like in 12x10 with the fem!Cas buffer that was Benjamin, we have already been getting buffers all throughout the last few seasons.

Here are some of my favourites:

  • Jesse x Cesar – 11x19 – These guys are my absolute favourite, they were created specifically to show the audience that you can be a gay man and also a macho man. That gay men aren’t stereotypes, that hunters can be gay and settle down and especially that gay romance doesn’t change the theme of the story. The big take away from this episode is that it shows the general audience that men like Dean Winchester can be gay/bisexual.
  • Hannah – 10x17 – This was a real eye opener for any Cas x Hannah shippers. Because Cas didn’t treat Hannah any different, and he had exactly the same warmth and affection for Hannah in her male vessel that he did in her female vessel. Basically this was a nice punch in the face for any homophobes watching. SPN doesn’t care about your heteronormative ships. You wanna ship Hannah x Cas? Fine! But Hannah’s in a dudes body now and guess what? Cas doesn’t care! How do you feel about THAT?
  • God is Bisexual – 11x20 – This was just a nice big fuck you to homophobes everywhere. Don’t like queer characters? This is NOT the show for you! Because in our world even GOD is queer! Yay for LGBT representation! It works as a buffer because once again it is sending a message to the general audience that this is the kind of thing you can expect on our show. We are changed now.
  • Dean rides Larry – 12x11 – Okay so maybe it’s not an obvious buffer, but it is kind of a subliminal message so I’m counting it. Dean riding that damn bull was the most sexual scene we have had on this show in seasons (and no that god awful thing that happened in 12x02 doesn’t count – nor does the same god awful thing from 12x08). The jokes alone, the sexual innuendos. This entire episode is loaded with subliminal messages basically screaming at the general audience to maybe just consider the fact that Dean likes guys.
  • 12x06/12x20 – Max Banes – like Jesse and Cesar Max works as a buffer because he is another way to get the general audience used to the idea that characters that are similar to Dean Winchester can be queer and it’s no big deal. Max is badass, funny, smart and charming and also 100% canonically queer (whether gay or bi we know textually that he is totally into dudes). Sam and Dean don’t bat an eyelid at his sexuality, so neither should the audience. It is just one part of his character and certainly not what his story is all about. Max is proof that you can have a queer character who is a badass and a hunter whose story is basically nothing to do with their sexuality. Their sexuality just happens to be a part of who they are.
  • And finally – Destiel – season 12 – I’m making this its own buffer because honestly? There is no way to view Dean and Cas’s relationship as non-romantic at this point. I think that the writers have slowly been turning up the dial on Destiel probably since 11x18. 12x19 really drummed it in for us though. The angel/human love themes of 12x10, the textual “I love you” in 12x12, the MIXTAPE and everything else about 12x19. This is all preparation. It is indeed a build up to a reveal. Destiel is it’s own buffer and even if people do still accuse it of ‘coming out of nowhere’ once it goes canon, all the writers have to do is gesture at season 12 and the fucking mixtape scene and say to those people “in what universe does the gifting of a mixtape between people who are not explicitly related NOT have romantic connotations?” Only a fool would argue with that if they had any knowledge of pop culture history. Sorry, but that’s the truth.

Anyway, that’s my thoughts on that. A show with a long established audience about to make a move that could potentially appear (but not really) out of left field would need to build up that move through a series of well thought out buffers, symbols, themes and subliminal messages before actually making it.

Like how Benjamin was the writers way of normalising Cas’s female vessel, the past two seasons have been a journey to normalise bi!dean and destiel in preparation for making both of these things explicitly canon. Yes we still have a way to go - it still needs to be stated explicitly in the text that Dean is into guys, in love with Cas bla bla bla, but we are getting there.

In summary. Destiel is endgame. Dean is bisexual. The general audience better learn to throw their heteronormative goggles in the bin because this is the state of this show right now, and it is good. 

Epoch

Epoch (m) a period of time in history or a person’s life, typically one marked by notable events or particular characteristics.

Words: 11.3k

Genre/Warnings: smut, language and angst

Pairing: Reader x Jungkook

Summary: When Namjoon breaks up with you, you’re left wondering what to do. Realizing you’ve been unhappy with your life, you go off to Hawaii. In Hawaii, you meet a cute desk clerk named Jungkook who saves your ass. (Based off of Forgetting Sarah Marshall)


You were waiting for your boyfriend, Namjoon, to come over. He had just gotten back from New York, where he had a few concerts. You worked with him, you were a lyric writer and producer. He had called you last night, saying, that he would be getting in early and wanted to see you.

Keep reading

brighter than fire (m)

Summary: There’s quite possibly nothing you hate more than Min Yoongi and his stupid, stupid face—and the stupid, stupid way he makes you feel.
Pairing: Yoongi | Reader
Genre: Fluff/Smut, Camp Counselor AU
Word Count: 11,371
Author’s Note: What better way to celebrate the summer than to mix Min Yoongi and camp counseling? Also, this is my first time getting to write really sarcastic Yoongi and I was really living. And to @minsvga – hEY thanks for encouraging sarcastic Yoongi in the first place, and lots of sinning; this is all your fault. 

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As soon as you step off the bus at the top of the mountain, surrounded by trees and forest and the fresh smell of pine, miles and miles away from your family and the troubles of everyday life—there is without a doubt in your mind that you’re reached your home. The sun is bright, hitting your eyes as soon as you depart from the vehicle, which only serves as a benchmark for what the next few weeks would consist of. And for the most part, you cannot wait to bask in the freedom and the responsibility and the adventure of resuming your counselor position at Camp Bulletproof for the fourth year in a row.

There’s an endearing aspect of being a regular at Camp Bulletproof, one that comes with smiles and waves exchanged with counselors who share the same experience as you, ones you’ve known for many years and have a friendship that can transcend the fact that you all didn’t see each other a lot more than you actually saw each other but that doesn’t stop any of you from spending hours on end supplying backstories for stories or sharing tales from school. It’s a gesture that is done very willingly given that some of these people have plagued your childhood and some of your most fond memories. For the most part, you can’t wait until after hours so the counselors could all have some time to catch up.

For the most part.

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Some thoughts I’ve been mulling over for a while...

SJM Haters: “No diversity!” *Shoving aside canonically black High Lords Tarquin and the bisexual Helion, Thesan, Nesryn, all of the Southern Continent, etc*

SJM Haters: “Everyone is white!” *Punching the non-white Illyrian races, not to mention about 90% of the Summer Court*

SJM Haters: “They’re all heterosexual!” *Throws Thesan, Mor, Aedion, the Blackbeak Matron, Thea and Kaya off of a cliff* (Actually, feel free to throw the Matron off a cliff lmao)

SJM Haters: “Rowan is abusive” *blatantly ignores the fact that Rowan was literally tied to a queen who forced him to do terrible things, and he still found it in himself to love Aelin unconditionally*

SJM Haters: “She doesn’t tackle any important issues!” *Stepping on Rhysand’s history of sexual abuse, not to mention Lysandra’s history of sexual abuse, oh and also Aedion, whose nickname was literally ‘Adarlan’s Whore,’ and the slave trade, and the treatment of ‘lesser faeries’ in comparison to ‘High Fae.’*

I’m not trying to say that the ACOTAR/TOG books aren’t without their flaws. Every book, every movie, every song, every piece of artwork that has ever been created has a flaw in some way. Often, there are multiple flaws. It is okay to acknowledge these flaws. It is okay to even criticize them. What is not okay is discrediting the immense amount of work that SJM puts into these books. She released two (2) fantasy novels longer than 200,000 words in a single year. I don’t pretend to know everything that goes on at Bloomsbury Publishing, but I honestly believe that she did that for her fans. She started writing Throne of Glass when she was 16; she got it published 11 years later. Books take time; lots of it. Ask George RR Martin, who also tackles the heavy genre of fantasy, but he’s been working on Winds of Winter for six years. Do you think SJM would have wanted to go over these books for another year or combed through them just one more time before she published them? Yeah, probably. Every author, writer, fanfiction writer, artist, or whomever, wants just a bit more time to add those final details, to keep chipping away (because let me tell you, even when it’s done, we don’t feel like it’s done). But you know what else? She’s probably damn proud of them, too. As well she should be. The amount of times I find myself laughing with these characters and crying and screeching, it says enough. 

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Possible-Future-Girlfriend

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky claims you can’t flirt for shit, you prove him wrong

Word Count: 2164

Warnings: pure fluff

Author’s Note: this is one of the first fluff i’ve written, i hope you enjoy (re)reading it :)

Masterlist Here

Sometimes you never really understood James Buchanan Barnes.

What is going on inside that pretty little head of his? What keeps him up all night sometimes. He’s assured you that it’s not the nightmares anymore. Those are the things he left in the past, along with all the terrible memories. But let’s not get drifted off to the apprehensive shit here. You have much important things to concentrate on.

Bucky Barnes is much happier now. He jokes around, flirts with girls at clubs or parties or any other place. He loves the cinema, especially the TV shows - so much that he binge watches them whenever Bucky and you are hanging out at your apartment.

He’s catching up on the new technology, too. You and Steve bought him a new phone for his birthday this year and boy, he cannot stop clicking pictures on it. And you know snooping is wrong, but most of the pictures on his camera roll are of Steve, the New York City skyline and you. You were surprised at first, but this man practically spends every free second of his time with you, so that was enough of an answer. Plus, you’d be lying to yourself and the rest the world if you’d say that your phone gallery isn’t stacked with pictures of Bucky.

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Bygones of the Sun | 07 (M)

Originally posted by hobismole

Genre: Angst/fluff/(future)smut || dance captain!hoseok, bad boy!au, uni!au

Pairing: Reader x Hoseok

Length: 6.7k

Summary: Jung Hoseok was once the sweetheart of the school, the dance captain whom every girl, including you, can’t help but fall head over heels for. But like the force of the ever-glowing sun, everything that rises must also set. A year of inactivity later and he’s now the school’s resident bad boy. You’re a firm believer of allowing the past be the past, and yet you can’t help but wonder where the risen sun has gone into hiding—because perhaps its shadows have out-shined its own radiance.

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07

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self-control (part 1) - steve harrington

Steve Harrington x Reader

Warnings: Angst, some light cursing.

Summary: You’re in charge of homecoming but you don’t have a date.

A/N: OK, honestly I’m so proud of this you guys. It was like ten pages on a google docs. I hope you like it. I know a lot of people want a part 2 to twist of fate, and that will most likely happen pretty soon! But I want to do this as a series as well so we’ll see. Anyway, hope you all like it. I love the feedback, by the way, so tell me what you think!

Gif is not mine, belongs to the owner.

Originally posted by nwetss

The sound of the phone ringing woke you up. Startled, you ran a hand through your hair and looked around before registering where you were. Home. In bed. Things were normal again, right?

Wrong. It was two a.m and the phone was ringing. Why did your parents agree to get you your own line? You quickly flicked on your bedside lamp and then picked up the receiver. “Hello?” You mumbled barely coherently, slowly sitting up in bed.

“Y/N?” It was Steve. You could tell by the way he pronounced your name. Just slightly different than everyone else did. Like it had more meaning coming from his mouth.

You let out a long yawn. “Yeah, Steve. It’s me. What’s going on? Why are you calling me at-“ you glanced over at the clock on your night stand. “Two thirteen in the morning?”

“I haven’t been able to sleep at all,” he said, and you could hear the tiredness in his voice, all groggy and deeper than usual. “Let me apologize. Let me make it up to you. I fucked up, okay-“

“Fucked up is putting it lightly,” you cut him off, your words sharp like daggers. “I don’t want to talk to you about it. Especially not now.”

Steve sighed on the other line. You could almost picture him running a hand through his hair. You hated that you knew him that well. “Go to sleep, Harrington,” You said, and didn’t wait for a response before hanging up the phone.

You tried to go back to sleep but your mind kept drifting back to a few days ago, when everything starting going to shit.

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The Preacher’s Daughter // A Mitch Rapp Smut

Author: @minhosmeanhoe

Series Masterlist

A/N: This is mine and @stilinski-jpeg ‘s first series together and I’m so fucking excited for y’all to see what we have planned. Love you Nia and thank you for being my best friend. 

Relationship: Mitch Rapp x Reader / Mitch Rapp x OFC

Warnings: NSFW, Explicit Sexual Content, Smut, Fingering, Oral (Male on Female), Sinning, Underage Drinking, and Swearing.

Word Count: 6,176

Song: Shape of You by Ed Sheeran

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” I asked, my nervous voice ringing with the sound of my heels clicking against the pavement.

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say you won’t let go | 01

 part 01 | part 02 [final] 

Summary: You’ve been eighteen years old for ten years when Jungkook first moves in.
Pairing: Jungkook | Reader
Genre: Fluff/Angst; Roommate/Soulmate AU (In which you stop aging when you turn 18 until you meet your soulmate)
Word Count: 12,038
Author’s Note: I was going to wait and upload the whole thing in one giant oneshot but for the stake of everyone’s sanity, it’ll be split into two parts. props to @minsvga for always being down to beta! 

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The morning comes like clockwork, obviously, but sometimes you wish it didn’t. Sometimes, the morning is like an unexpected gust of wind, blowing away the present and the comfort and leaving you alone with nothing but your thoughts and the disappointing feeling akin to the sensation of something missing from your life. Which, considering everything the world and the fates and the bonds that connect individuals together and all the shit like that, is not too far off from a relevant problem in your life.

The days seem to blend together, time slipping between your fingers but leaving you with no opportunity or way to stop it or prolong it. You certainly feel different, older somehow and probably wiser, and you’re sure it shows in your eyes, in the curl of your lips, in the longing touch of your smile.

But you crawl out of bed in the morning, feet landing like a gentle sigh on the carpet, following the hall down to your bathroom until you’re situated in front of the sink and taking a long glance at your reflection. You don’t know why you insist to yourself to always look at the mirror, because it’s not like anything would have changed overnight, nothing ever really does. You take in your expression, the skin of your face and the darkness of your eyes, a harsh contrast to the youth of your face, the curve of your nose and the sharpness of your jawline—you: fresh, and young and not a day over eighteen-years-old, just as you have been for ten years.

This has been the way of human life since its creation, a science with no explanation and a connection that cannot be seen or heard or even felt. It’s a different kind of connection, moreso the type of link that brings two people together, two people whoever has a hand in predetermination believe would be the best fit for each other. A soulmate, an individual meant to compliment you in every aspect, someone gifted to you from unidentifiable figures; figures you would not even believe existed if not for the world they created and built, a world you now inhabited.

In theory, the unspoken rules of the whole soulmate business seemed easy: a case in which the aging process stops at the eighteen until one’s soulmate came along, done so in order for the pair of them to gain the ability to grow old together, experience life together, be there for each other during the true ups and downs of college and jobs and family. Every single person you’ve ever stumbled upon each has their own story, their own tales of their relationship. You’ve met people in a relationship that never grew, friends who realized they were each other’s everything, individuals who went through years upon years upon years of life with a soulmate fresh out of the gate—always a variety, never a wrong answer or a right one. Yet, they all seem happy, no matter where the path of life seems to take them.

But now that you’ve been eighteen for a solid ten years, you’re ready to call major bullshit on every single individual who dared to look you in the eye and tell you that they don’t care about the unwinding of fate.

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green-eyed monster

request: Could you do a Steve x reader where Billy hits on her and it forces Steve to admit his felling for the reader? Maybe some like cute fluff??

warning: some cursing

word count: 1,534

“Damn, look at the legs on that one.”

Steve couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the guy standing a few feet away from him. Billy Hargrove was the resident bad boy at Hawkins High School. He was obnoxious and a total asshole.

The two of them clashed on multiple occasions. It was clear that they would never ever be friends and Steve was perfectly okay with that. He didn’t want to associate himself with a guy like Billy.

“The things that I would do to that beauty.” Billy whistled making a couple of guys around him laugh.

Steve had been tying his shoes and trying to ignore the stupid shit coming from Billy’s mouth. He looked up to see the poor girl that had gotten Billy’s current attention.

He was shocked when he saw that it was you.

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What You Don’t Know About the Moon Signs

ARIES: They are fighters, they go through so much turmoil and still manage to rise above it. They have so much passion and love for their family and loved ones, they tend to hurt these people the most, as Aries is emotional and can go through a range of emotions in such a short span of time. They tend to beat themselves up a lot for all the shit they do. They just need the love and attention they may not have received in early life.


TAURUS: Family and home are very important to Taurus moons. They strive for long term relationships and are generally loyal to their significant others. They can come off as needy, clingy, and obsessive leaving them heartbroken many times in their life. This may stem from a family who suffocated them or were distant. They think they are boring and typical, they need someone who will love them for all their faults and see the life in them that others do not.

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