i am not human enough for any of this right now

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.”

I’ve decided to tell you guys a story about piracy.

I didn’t think I had much to add to the piracy commentary I made yesterday, but after seeing some of the replies to it, I decided it’s time for this story.

Here are a few things we should get clear before I go on:

1) This is a U.S. centered discussion. Not because I value my non U.S. readers any less, but because I am published with a U.S. publisher first, who then sells my rights elsewhere. This means that the fate of my books, good or bad, is largely decided on U.S. turf, through U.S. sales to readers and libraries.

2) This is not a conversation about whether or not artists deserve to get money for art, or whether or not you think I in particular, as a flawed human, deserve money. It is only about how piracy affects a book’s fate at the publishing house. 

3) It is also not a conversation about book prices, or publishing costs, or what is a fair price for art, though it is worthwhile to remember that every copy of a blockbuster sold means that the publishing house can publish new and niche voices. Publishing can’t afford to publish the new and midlist voices without the James Pattersons selling well. 

It is only about two statements that I saw go by: 

1) piracy doesn’t hurt publishing. 

2) someone who pirates the book was never going to buy it anyway, so it’s not a lost sale.

Now, with those statements in mind, here’s the story.

It’s the story of a novel called The Raven King, the fourth installment in a planned four book series. All three of its predecessors hit the bestseller list. Book three, however, faltered in strange ways. The print copies sold just as well as before, landing it on the list, but the e-copies dropped precipitously. 

Now, series are a strange and dangerous thing in publishing. They’re usually games of diminishing returns, for logical reasons: folks buy the first book, like it, maybe buy the second, lose interest. The number of folks who try the first will always be more than the number of folks who make it to the third or fourth. Sometimes this change in numbers is so extreme that publishers cancel the rest of the series, which you may have experienced as a reader — beginning a series only to have the release date of the next book get pushed off and pushed off again before it merely dies quietly in a corner somewhere by the flies.

So I expected to see a sales drop in book three, Blue Lily, Lily Blue, but as my readers are historically evenly split across the formats, I expected it to see the cut balanced across both formats. This was absolutely not true. Where were all the e-readers going? Articles online had headlines like PEOPLE NO LONGER ENJOY READING EBOOKS IT SEEMS.

Really?

There was another new phenomenon with Blue Lily, Lily Blue, too — one that started before it was published. Like many novels, it was available to early reviewers and booksellers in advanced form (ARCs: advanced reader copies). Traditionally these have been cheaply printed paperback versions of the book. Recently, e-ARCs have become common, available on locked sites from publishers. 

BLLB’s e-arc escaped the site, made it to the internet, and began circulating busily among fans long before the book had even hit shelves. Piracy is a thing authors have been told to live with, it’s not hurting you, it’s like the mites in your pillow, and so I didn’t think too hard about it until I got that royalty statement with BLLB’s e-sales cut in half. 

Strange, I thought. Particularly as it seemed on the internet and at my booming real-life book tours that interest in the Raven Cycle in general was growing, not shrinking. Meanwhile, floating about in the forums and on Tumblr as a creator, it was not difficult to see fans sharing the pdfs of the books back and forth. For awhile, I paid for a service that went through piracy sites and took down illegal pdfs, but it was pointless. There were too many. And as long as even one was left up, that was all that was needed for sharing. 

I asked my publisher to make sure there were no e-ARCs available of book four, the Raven King, explaining that I felt piracy was a real issue with this series in a way it hadn’t been for any of my others. They replied with the old adage that piracy didn’t really do anything, but yes, they’d make sure there was no e-ARCs if that made me happy. 

Then they told me that they were cutting the print run of The Raven King to less than half of the print run for Blue Lily, Lily Blue. No hard feelings, understand, they told me, it’s just that the sales for Blue Lily didn’t justify printing any more copies. The series was in decline, they were so proud of me, it had 19 starred reviews from pro journals and was the most starred YA series ever written, but that just didn’t equal sales. They still loved me.

This, my friends, is a real world consequence.

This is also where people usually step in and say, but that’s not piracy’s fault. You just said series naturally declined, and you just were a victim of bad marketing or bad covers or readers just actually don’t like you that much.

Hold that thought. 

I was intent on proving that piracy had affected the Raven Cycle, and so I began to work with one of my brothers on a plan. It was impossible to take down every illegal pdf; I’d already seen that. So we were going to do the opposite. We created a pdf of the Raven King. It was the same length as the real book, but it was just the first four chapters over and over again. At the end, my brother wrote a small note about the ways piracy hurt your favorite books. I knew we wouldn’t be able to hold the fort for long — real versions would slowly get passed around by hand through forum messaging — but I told my brother: I want to hold the fort for one week. Enough to prove that a point. Enough to show everyone that this is no longer 2004. This is the smart phone generation, and a pirated book sometimes is a lost sale.

Then, on midnight of my book release, my brother put it up everywhere on every pirate site. He uploaded dozens and dozens and dozens of these pdfs of The Raven King. You couldn’t throw a rock without hitting one of his pdfs. We sailed those epub seas with our own flag shredding the sky.

The effects were instant. The forums and sites exploded with bewildered activity. Fans asked if anyone had managed to find a link to a legit pdf. Dozens of posts appeared saying that since they hadn’t been able to find a pdf, they’d been forced to hit up Amazon and buy the book.

And we sold out of the first printing in two days.

Two days.

I was on tour for it, and the bookstores I went to didn’t have enough copies to sell to people coming, because online orders had emptied the warehouse. My publisher scrambled to print more, and then print more again. Print sales and e-sales became once more evenly matched.

Then the pdfs hit the forums and e-sales sagged and it was business as usual, but it didn’t matter: I’d proven the point. Piracy has consequences.

That’s the end of the story, but there’s an epilogue. I’m now writing three more books set in that world, books that I’m absolutely delighted to be able to write. They’re an absolute blast. My publisher bought this trilogy because the numbers on the previous series supported them buying more books in that world. But the numbers almost didn’t. Because even as I knew I had more readers than ever, on paper, the Raven Cycle was petering out. 

The Ronan trilogy nearly didn’t exist because of piracy. And already I can see in the tags how Tumblr users are talking about how they intend to pirate book one of the new trilogy for any number of reasons, because I am terrible or because they would ‘rather die than pay for a book’. As an author, I can’t stop that. But pirating book one means that publishing cancels book two. This ain’t 2004 anymore. A pirated copy isn’t ‘good advertising’ or ‘great word of mouth’ or ‘not really a lost sale.’

That’s my long piracy story. 

Exploring in Colorado

(With reference to this post here)

Required supplies:

  • Water
  • more than that.
  • I’m not kidding people die of dehydration more than anything else I’m talking 2 liters minimum.
  • snacks
  • first-aid and survival kit including after-bite, splint supplies and emergency signalling devices, and a thermal blanket.  I am absolutely not kidding people get lost a mile from the road and die of exposure.
  • Map, your phone won’t work more than a mile from city limits.
  • change of socks.
  • something iron.
  • an offering or three.  you might not need any, you might need all of them.

Etiquette:

  • Always close any gate you open. Even if the fence around it is gone.  Both from a spiritual perspective and becuase there’s a nonzero chance the farm isn’t abandoned and the livestock is lurking in the scrub.
  • Cattle will stare at you.  As long as they’re on the other side of the fence or river or ditch it’s fine.  If there’s no barrier you need to leave.  Range cattle fight coyotes and cougar and the worst of winter and don’t give a single fuck about you.
  • That’s not lore Range Cattle will fucking kill you.
  • Never approach any horse, but especially the ones without humans.  They’re either fae or feral and the odds of them eating your hands are about the same.
  • Drink your water.
  • There are Others in Colorado, but the relationship is not nearly so adversarial out here.  They’re like your neighbors but only sometimes corporeal.  Mind your manners and obey any posted signage and you’ll be fine.
  • posted signage includes trees fallen across paths or washed-out sections of trail (trail closed), bits of dead animal on stumps or fence posts (occupied, fuck off) and the smell of urine (Mountain lion or bear turn right the fuck around)
  • Don’t eat anything you find there unless you brought a permit for it with you.  Anyone who says you can forage on public land is a liar and going to get their ass poisoned or cursed.
  • If you did bring a permit, leave an offering anyway.  The Law of Man is not the same as The Law of Mountains and you need to pay taxes in both.
  • Salute magpies, and any bird larger than them.
  • Everyone going uphill yields going to everyone going downhill, regardless of whether or not they’re human or real.
  • If you’re over 7000 feet and you seem to have picked up another member to your party, it’s just the mountain wondering what’s happening.  It’s like bird watching for them.  Be polite, pick up your trash and call the mountain whatever name it gives you.
  • Drink your fucking water.
  • If you feel like you’re being followed, especially at dusk, you absolutely turn around and tell whatever’s behind you you know they’re there.  This is becuase it’s almost certainly coyotes and they need to be told to fuck off.  If you can see what’s following you, face it and walk calmly backwards towards civilization until it goes away or you’re back in your car.  If you can’t see what it is, tell it you’re headed home now, then you can turn back around and proceed calmly back from whence you came.
  • Do not, under any circumstances, run.
  • things that run are meant to be chased and everything up here is faster than you are.
  • also you’ll fall off a fucking cliff.
  • If you get back to the car or edge of the wild space and still feel like you’re being followed, check your shoes, pockets and any baggage for extras and leave them.  If you’re STILL being followed, they’re being rude and you’re allowed to chuck a rock at them.
  • I’m not kidding about the water.
  • Don’t go into any “abandoned” buildings because 1. there’s a nonzero chance the building isn’t actually abandoned and then you have to explain to the rancher what the fuck you’re doing on their land 2. if it is abandoned it’s probably structurally unstable 3. the only things inside are rattlesnakes and tetanus.
  • Exception to above: if you hear thunder, you’re close enough to be struck. you can step inside then, but do not touch anything, especially the building it’self.
  • You are encouraged to walk out to abandoned tractors and plowshares and touch them.  Don’t move them but stop to say hi and have some water.
  • If you find human remains, don’t panic.  If they’re out there, they wanted to be found.  Write down (you won’t be able to remember later, trust me) where you found them and inform the park service/police as soon as possible.
  • Drink your water.

(Tip Jar)

are you familiar with the feeling of oh-my-holy-moly-my-life-is-a-complete-mess? me too fam. but now, it’s time for change. It’s time to get our shit together and here are some tips to get started.

note : this is just a beginning guide; which only includes 1/100 of the tips to get you life together. I’ll probably make a part two if this is helpful?


1. do not procrastinate.

sounds crazy? but honestly, just don’t. procrastination leads to stress and anxiety and helps you lose your shit.

but, how do we not procrastinate?

  • ‌get things done early. remember that sheet of paper your professor gave around in class having the list of all the assignments to be done that semester? yes, do that work months before if you have time.
  • do your homework the day it’s given. (no watching tv before you do)
  • ‌study in the time you’re actually studying. don’t go on your phone half the time. If you’re doing that, you may as well put your books away.

‌other resources -

2. become the master of  “fake productivity”

fake productivity is basically when you do mechanical work (i.e. stuff which doesn’t require much brainpower) to get into the real “productivity” zone. it helps you brain prepare for the big task ahead. here are some things to do -

  • make your bed
  • do the dishes/laundry
  • clean your room (i know it’s messy yo)
  • get your closet together
  • empty your inbox (be it gmail or tumblr)
  • do a smol workout?
  • make a to-do list/ organize you calendar
  • do a easiest or the most enjoyable task off your to-do list

3. plan, plan and plan

your planner/bullet journal should be your best friend. plan those essays you got to write, that research paper you have to do, down to the time you need to go out for dinner with friends. Plan. Every. Single. Thing. I. Really. Mean. It.

+ and follow up with those plans!! you have already wasted a lot of time on planning, you hAVE to follow up with that planning, right?

4. wake up early

why?  waking up early gives you the time to do things slowly and carefully so that you get it perfect in one go and your life isn’t a complete disastrous mess.

how to wake up early? i got you.

5. have a healthy lifestyle

an example -

x wakes up at 7 am every morning, goes for a short run to wake herself up and comes back to have hearty breakfast of eggs, bacon, slices of bread and a mug of steaming hot tea. she starts on her work after that, doing it without stressing about it. Then, after a nice hot bath and a delicious lunch, she goes out to a cafe to work on her online classes and to hang out with her friends. coming back home, she does a quick workout, takes a shower and heads off to make dinner. Having an early dinner, she spends the remaining few hours relaxing, drafting blog posts and spending time with her dog. at 10 pm everyday, she heads off to her bed, looking forward to a glorious tomorrow.

..sounds like a fairy-tale, right? you can definitely live it though.

In general, your day should have the following stuff  -

  • ‌sufficient hours of work using which you can get all your work done
  • ‌a healthy breakfast, lunch and dinner (yep, no skipping meals)
  • ‌a workout, generally of 15 - 30 minutes at the least
  • ‌interaction with people, like hanging out with friends or family
  • ‌sufficient sleep and resting time (preferably 8 hours of sleep)
  • ‌a fixed routine consisting of you waking and sleeping at fixed time
  • ‌a ‘me’ time at some point of the day where you don’t worry about work or anything and focus on relaxing after a long day.

6. believing that coffee sucks

why? its basically a drug and if you need three cups of it just to get started on work, you’re going to have a really hard time during finals.

Instead, get enough sleep so that you have enough energy to study without being a coffee addict. or you can even swap coffee for water. (hey, you’ll be more hydrated!)
side note - a cup of coffee per day is okay though. I love coffee too and I totally feel you but don’t overdose on it, okay love?

some extra things to know about -

  • ‌have a companion to keep you accountable at the start.
  • ‌do have a laid-back day once in a while, you’re human after all.
  • balance work and play. reward yourself for shit done.
  • keep track of your spending, earnings, investments, etc.
  • stop being a perfectionist. seriously, you dont need to rewrite all those notes, trust me (comes from a was-a-perfectionist-kind-of-still-am-but-trying-not-to-be perfectionist)
  • ‌don’t stress yourself out. getting your shit together is a journey and not a result.
  • remember, change will come. yes, it will; but only if you take action. start now.

also, on a side note - and this might seem very ironic, but sometimes you don’t have to have your shit together. life is always a mess and trust me when I say this, no one - yes no one - has their shit together and sometimes it’s worth it to lead a messy life and enjoy it without having any fixed rules and regulations like you would have if you wanted that perfect life. enjoy the life you lead and stay wonderful, loves!


- ̗̀   the adulting 101 series   ̖́-        

part one : kicking a rut

go check out my other masterposts here and you can always send in a request for a masterpost as my ask box is always open!!

much love, Taylor  (´。• ᵕ •。`) ♡

Peep is a hearing aid. It is still getting used to this, because it used to be a regular dragon. And now it is a full-time employed hearing aid dragon, all two inches of it, perched on its sorcerer’s ear.

The sorcerer is named Vigil, which is short for Vigilante. Peep tried to point out to its hapless human that being named after their secret identity is a terrible way of keeping it a secret, but Vigil continues to be named Vigil. (It is ridiculous, in Peep’s eyes, how often its good advice goes ignored.) Vigil’s often-changing gender was another surprise to get used to, since dragons don’t tend to have genders.

“What’s a gender for?” Peep had questioned Vigil on its first day of work as it tried to find the best position to stay hidden behind her ear, while holding onto her piercings for balance.

Vigil hummed thoughtfully before answering, “Decoration, I suppose.”

That might have been a joke, but Peep wasn’t sure.

But being genderfluid was a feature of Vigil, not a problem. No, it was the vigilante thing that was the problem. Every night after the labs had been shut up for the day the other apprentice sorcerers would head off to eat dinner together, or watch some shark jousting at the Oceania, or do other normal activities like flying. Meanwhile, Vigil would murmur a few words under their breath to shield their face with a spell, tuck the lab’s resident firekeeping dragon into their sleeve, and go out to foil evil.

It was a terrible hobby, which Vigil would know if they ever took Peep’s advice.

The root of the problem, Peep had decided, was that Vigil was so caught up with how they could that they never considered whether they should. Yes, Peep’s human was remarkably clever, anyone could see that. Vigil didn’t let the fact that they were only an apprentice sorcerer get in their way— they dyed their hair to look like it had been turned blue by frequent exposure to magic, had Peep sit behind their ear to make the quiet world more understandable, and coaxed the lab’s firekeeping dragon to stay in their sleeve and breathe fire on command. With their face hidden, Vigil passed admirably for a fully grown sorcerer.

But they weren’t one, and that was going to get them in trouble one day if Peep didn’t figure out a way to help them.

“You’re going to get hurt,” Peep informed Vigil as he piled boxes into his arms.

“What are you talking about?” Vigil muttered, balancing the pile with precision. “Nothing in the back room is dangerous.” He sidestepped another apprentice coming into the storage room and emerged behind the counter.

“Not in the back room. You’re going to get hurt while out foiling evil if you keep it up. This woman says thank you and keep the change, and the rude guy next to her is trying to get your attention by snapping.”

Vigil dropped the change into the floating tip jar and turned to the man.

Shifts at the lab’s storefront, where anyone could purchase potion ingredients and charms prepared by the apprentices in the labs, were Peep’s busiest times as a hearing aid. Vigil could hear well enough if it was one well-enunciated person alone speaking, but the chaos of the labs, with everyone talking at once, meant he relied on Peep the most.

“He wants one mud-repelling charm,” Peep reported as the man talked, “and make it quick because he’s an asshole, or because he got mud on his very expensive shoes, something like that.”

Vigil made his thoughtful face while listening, one of the many ways he filled the pauses before he could respond in situations like these. “Sorry, we’re out of those. Can I get you anything else?”

The man did not want anything else.

“He said a bad word at you,” Peep said virtuously, because it considered cursing very terrible unless it was done by someone it approved of.

“I could tell,” Vigil muttered, watching the man storm out.

Peep itself was watching someone else enter the store— a rather short knight-in-training in a very unfashionable cap. Peep considered itself an expert on fashion, as well as on poetry and Vigil’s safety. It was because of its expertise on that latter subject that it noticed the knight-in-training. It watched them go right to the shelves of magical candy on the other side of the room, and approved.

“This little kid at the counter wants ingrediants for a stink potion,” Peep repeated absentmindedly as it mulled over the newcomer, and Vigil went back into the storeroom.

He mumbled the ingredients to himself as he found them on the shelves. “Glass eggs, spider eyes—”

“Gross,” Peep commented. “You need friends.”

“—black-spotted mushrooms. Friends would make this less gross how?”

“They wouldn’t. But they might keep you out of trouble.”

“And that’s exactly why I don’t need any. I like trouble.” Vigil went back to the counter and put the ingredients in the girl’s basket.

Peep took the opportunity to notice the knight-in-training again (they were still examining the candies) before turning back to its duties as a hearing aid.“She says thanks, and also that you need friends.”

“Quit it,” Vigil hissed, and greeted a regular customer who signed their request for a fever-reducing charm.

Peep quitted it for all of ten seconds before Vigil was searching the dusty back corners where the healing charms were stored. “You’re only a baby sorcerer, you can’t go around foiling evil all by yourself. Eventually evil will foil back.”

Vigil objected strongly to being called a baby sorcerer. “I hired a hearing aid, not a babysitter.”

“Wrong,” shouted Peep, who loved being right. “You hired a dragon, and a dragon always knows best.”

“Dragons also always live with several nest-mates, which you don’t have, so you’re one to talk about needing friends.” Vigil snatched a fever charm from where it had fallen on the floor with more violence than necessary and straightened up. There was a guilty pause. Dragons are excellent at telling when pauses are guilty. “I mean…” Vigil said quietly.

“Everyone needs friends,” Peep said, trying not to sound like it was going to cry. Unfortunately, dragons are as terrible at not sounding emotional as they are excellent at discerning guilty pauses.

Vigil stroked the tiny ridges of Peep’s back with one finger. “Hey, I didn’t mean that.” His voice was soft.

“I could have nest-mates if I wanted,” Peep said, still sniffling. Dragons’ lying abilities fall squarely between their skills at recognizing guilty pauses and not sounding emotional.

“Of course you could,” Vigil soothed. “You’re the best dragon I know.”

“Including Crackle?” Peep asked, wanting to be sure. “Crackle isn’t even that great of a firekeeper. I’m much better at being a hearing aid than it is at making fire.” Crackle had three nest-mates and its very own nesting hallow in the chimney over the lab’s fireplace, and was very conceited about it in Peep’s opinion.

Vigil abstained from passing judgement on Crackle. “You’re the best hearing aid a sorcerer could have. I’m sorry for what I said.”

Peep blew its nose on a lock of blue hair. “Ok.”

Vigil winced but didn’t comment on that. At the counter he gave the customer the fever charm and they exchanged a few words in sign language that Peep didn’t need to aid in, giving it time to search the room again for the knight-in-training, who was now carrying over a jar of blue candies to purchase. They looked at the apprentices behind the counter, all busy— and their eyes slid right over Vigil’s face without recognition.

Peep frowned to itself. They would never recognize Vigil as the hero who had saved them the other night on their own, not when Vigil had hid his face so well. Clearly, Peep had to intervene, for Vigil’s own good.

Pushing Vigil’s hair aside, Peep stretched itself out as far as it could without falling off his ear, and flapped its green wings urgently. The knight-in-training, not looking, didn’t notice. Humans were oblivious.

Peep flapped its wings some more, and puffed out some violet smoke. On the other side of the counter, the knight-in-training’s eyes flicked to the fading puff of violet in surprise, and followed it down to the tiny green dragon preening with victory, and then to the sorcerer it was perched on.

“You!” Kit shouted.

Peep quickly returned to its hearing aid position. “That knight person over there says ‘you!’ very loudly,” it told Vigil.

“Fuck,” Vigil whispered, trying to avoid the knight’s glare. “That’s the squire I helped the other night! How did they recognize me?”

“Big mystery,” Peep said unhelpfully.

The knight-in-training pushed their way closer to Vigil’s section of the counter, not to be ignored. “You’re that vigilante!”

“They say you’re a vigilante, and probably good friend material.” Peep gave the knight-in-training a wave. They waved back.

Vigil batted at his ear. “Stop that, stop being friendly! I’m a masked vigilante, people aren’t supposed to know who I am.”

The knight-in-training raised an eyebrow, looking at Vigil’s name tag. “In that case, why is your name literally the first half of the word vigilante? Doesn’t seem very masked to me.”

Peep crowed victoriously. “New friend! Can we keep them?”

the other stories about these characters can be found in my tag here. thanks for reading!

Why I Quit German

WARNINGS: This story is really gross and/or horrifying but also hilarious imho.  Your health always comes first, so mind the tags:  Violence, Cannibalism Mention, Suicidal Ideation, Feces, Sleep Deprivation, Airplanes, I generally had a really bad time but now it’s hysterical.  Most of the story is under the cut because it’s eight miles long.


In August of 2009 I flew back to Honolulu to do my sophomore year of college with the intention of entering 400-level german. What happened instead is the closest I’ve ever come to personally dying or actually murdering someone.

The problem started the day before my flight, when I attended a birthday party for a very dear cousin in Denver, and due to be in 1 of 2 adults present, ended up driving a bunch of teenagers home and didn’t get home until 12:30 that night.  Oh well, my flight’s at 6AM anyway, I’ll just stay up. I can sleep on the plane, I thought, like a complete fucking fool.

Keep reading

Am I missing something? I was under the impression that, now more than ever, feminists were loud and present and defensive. I thought I was seeing a wave of even braver men and women on social media, calling out bullshit and striking down misogyny. I thought the last nine months built an online army of journalists and Twitter users and anyone else who’s fed up with sexism and its disturbing presence in the administration, fighting every day against the trails of normalized misogyny Trump leaves behind and defending the women who speak out about it.

But there’s a ringing silence now. And it’s looming around Taylor Swift’s groping trial. A woman who is constantly attacked for being silent is now getting the worst of it.

Colorado DJ David Mueller is suing Swift for $3 million in damages after she alleged that he lifted her skirt and grabbed her during a meet-and-greet photo op. Mueller was fired soon after, and sued Swift, her mother, and her radio promotions director for defamation.

As much as grabbing women in sexual violation has been dismissed and normalized by our country’s leaders and its people, it’s an issue of sexual assault that made Andrea Swift want to “vomit and cry at the same time” seeing the look on her daughter’s face post-backstage incident.

Firsthand, I’ve seen girls run out of clubs in a heartbreaking tearful mixture of shock, fury and disturbance after a man grabbed them sexually without any form of consent. I’ve seen girls weakly laugh it off because they think that’s what they’re supposed to do. And I’ve seen guys stammer excuse after excuse after excuse, because they’re taught to search for anything to blame but themselves.

I’ve also seen girls, on and offline, race to the defense of those who were violated. I’ve seen them deliver completely scathing responses to regular people and political leaders alike who try to dismiss a woman’s story of sexual assault in any way or call it anything less than it is.

These people I’ve seen are incredibly vocal. They like to hold others accountable, and they spend a really admirable amount of energy spouting their support to women, famous and not, who choose to speak out about their sexual assault experience.

Let’s just take Ke$ha’s trial, shall we? Tons of celebrities, journalists and everyone in between shouted their encouragement, their disgust at her alleged abuser. Adele used her acceptance speech at the 2016 Brit Awards to publicly express her support of Ke$ha. Lady Gaga, Ariana Grande, Snoop Dogg, Kelly Clarkson, Lorde and a clump of other pop stars (apologies to Snoop Dogg and his admirers for grouping him into a ‘pop stars’ category) used Twitter to do the same.

And then, two days after a New York judge denied Ke$ha a court injunction, Taylor Swift donated $250,000 towards any of Ke$ha’s financial needs. Kind, right? Nope, no one seemed to think so. Internet users everywhere shamed Swift for her donation, including the “I-always-know-the-best-thing-to-say-on-the-Internet” Demi Lovato.

Lovato tweeted “Take something to Capitol Hill or actually speak out about something and then I’ll be impressed.” This attitude was reiterated widely across Twitter, because it’s Twitter. And also because Taylor Swift, no matter what on the Lord’s green Earth she does, cannot win. But that’s another story that would take pages and pages to tell, so I’ll refrain myself.

Swift was ripped apart for “silence” after her donation. She was also ripped apart for her “silence” during the Women’s March. She Tweeted about it, celebrating the day and expressing her pride in everyone who marched. But of course that wasn’t enough, because it never is. She was annihilated for not going to her local march. (Even though she’s one of most photographed and stalked celebrities in the industry and could probably not go to a march without people harassing her and/or accusing her of going for attention and a photo op, but whatever it’s fine.)

Before my fury completely takes over my fingers and I start to type a fuming address to everyone who continually hates this girl because it’s what they’ve been in the habit of doing since 2012, let me take it back to the trial.

I’ve never heard silence quite this loud. (I hate myself, that is a Taylor Swift lyric, whatever.) It’s obvious, and not just to me.

…Everyone is a feminist until it comes to Taylor Swift. This has been proven to me enough times to make me scream internally while staring at Tumblr.com. Demi, is your Internet down? Or are you in a plane on the way to Capitol Hill to discuss sexual assault and actually impress someone?

Where is everyone? Where are the mighty feminists I so admire, I so try to be? Suddenly they aren’t as loud.

But Taylor Swift, no matter what card you think she plays, is a forcibly strong human being. To be hunted down every day physically and on the Internet, to be mocked at absolutely every turn, you can’t be a weak person. You just can’t.

Swift only countersued for $1. Before you open your mouth or press that little blue button in the corner to compose a Tweet, close it and take your hands off the keyboard. She’s not doing this for the money. Her mother wanted to keep it private until DJ Mueller sued. She’s doing this to show every other girl who watches her with adoring eyes and the ones who pretend they don’t that you can report your sexual assault. You can hold the person accountable. She’s showing men who mock her for her dating life but objectify her at the same time that they will not be tolerated. And it’s being met with silence. But we’ve known since the early days of 2010 that silence doesn’t follow Taylor Alison Swift for long, and it won’t now.

—  Huffington Post article discussing the feminists’ silence on the Taylor Swift sexual assault trial (x)

I think a big part of how I see the world is that -

In college I was sick. In particular I was anorexic, and I nearly starved myself to death. I never accomplished anything, made commitments I couldn’t keep, lost track of time, and struggled with the most basic life tasks. I was anxious (mostly because I correctly knew that everything was going horribly) and lazy (because I could not possibly do enough things to matter, and doing things was hard and hurt) and unreliable and terrible. I ended up owing people a lot of money (I have since paid them all back) and failing at things that were really important to me and to other people.

And now I am in a good environment for me. I live with people who I can be reasonably assured don’t hate me and will tell me when they need me to do things differently, and I am no longer anxious. My work has clear expectations and is bite-sized and doesn’t pile up on me, and I reliably deliver it and do a good job. I have enough money I don’t have to deal with the mental overhead of deciding whether to buy the food I want, and I spend that mental overhead on better things. I am still messy and I am still bad at getting places on time, but I’m never late on rent. I am mostly a productive, honest, trustworthy, reliable person and I’m getting better at those things. I have friends and kiss girls (and the occasional boy) and I make a positive difference in peoples’ lives.

Some of the difference was immaturity and lack of skills; much of the difference is that I had starved my brain until it stopped functioning; much of the difference was that I was in an environment that was not shaped to my strengths. But living through it gave me this powerful sense that the difference between a “lazy” person and a “successful” person, between a reliable person and an unreliable person, between a “good” person and a “bad” person, is a lot about whether they are in an environment shaped to their strengths. That almost everybody will be great in the right environment and really really struggle in a bad one. And some people have never ever encountered a bad one and think they’re just inherently great; and some people have never encountered a good one, and think they’re just inherently miserable and hard to get along with and unreliable and untrustworthy.

I absolutely think people are still accountable for the things they do in bad environments. I’ve worked really hard to fix the things I fucked up at when I was sick, and I don’t mean “it’s all the environment” to mean “it’s not you”. Just - the same you who was miserable and did bad things will be happy and do good things, in better circumstances, and lots of the human project is building those circumstances. 

I don’t know how to give everyone an environment in which they’ll thrive. It’s probably absurdly hard, in lots of cases it is, in practical terms, impossible. But I basically always feel like it’s the point, and that anything else is missing the point. There are people whose brains are permanently-given-our-current-capabilities stuck functioning the way my brain functioned when I was very sick. And I encounter, sometimes, “individual responsibility” people who say “lazy, unproductive, unreliable people who choose not to work choose their circumstances; if they go to bed hungry then, yes, they deserve to be hungry; what else could ‘deserve’ possibly mean?” They don’t think they’re talking to me; I have a six-figure tech job and do it well and save for retirement and pay my bills, just like them. But I did not deserve to be hungry when I was sick, either, and I would not deserve to be hungry if I’d never gotten better.

What else could ‘deserve’ possibly mean? When I use it, I am pointing at the ‘give everyone an environment in which they’ll thrive’ thing. People with terminal cancer deserve a cure even though right now we don’t have one; deserving isn’t a claim about what we have, but about what we would want to give out if we had it. And so, to me, horrible people who abuse others all the time deserve an environment in which they would thrive and not be able to abuse others, even if we can’t provide one and don’t even have any idea what it would look like and sensibly are prioritizing other people who don’t abuse others. If you have experiences, you deserve good experiences; if you have feelings, you deserve happy feelings; if you want to be loved, you are worthy of love. You flourishing is a moral good; everybody flourishing is in fact the only moral good, the entire thing morality is for. Your actions should have consequences, sure, and we should figure out how to build a world where those consequences are ones that you can handle, and where you can amend the things that you do wrong. When you hurt people, that can change what “you thriving” looks like, because part of thriving is fixing, and growing from, things you have done wrong; but nothing you do can change that it is good for you to thrive.

I reject that I ever deserved to starve, and so I reject that anyone, ever, deserves to starve. I reject that I ever deserved to suffer, and so I reject that anyone, ever, deserves to suffer. Happiness is good. Your happiness is good. And without a single exception anywhere I want you to thrive.

I have a confession... I don’t belong here.

I’m not usually one to to say how she feels, let alone write down how she feels, but recent events have made it hard to hide where I’m at, so I thought I’d take a page from my good friend’s book and lay it all out here. To see if it helps.

Over the last few months really exciting things have been happening. Some things you know about, some you don’t. Suffice it to say life is good. And I’m terrified. I am utterly a fish out of water. I am lost and confused. And no one knows it. My life used to be small. I was a sun flower in a small garden. I thrived on what water I had and was fine. Fine. ish. I wanted more. I pretended that I knew more than I did so that I wouldn’t seem like such and outsider to my peers. Fake it till you make it, right? I knocked down doors that were locked and found opportunities that were hidden away form me. I was succeeding at the unimaginable. And then I pushed. And I pushed. And I pushed. Until I found myself weeping from a broken back because I had been pushing at brick walls that wouldn’t budge. I’d pushed too hard. And I became so terrified that I would be discovered as a fraud that I became selfish and insensitive. All to conceal a devastating fact. I don’t belong here.

I grew up on a small farm. We as kids worked the farm to help out. My mother moved us around where she could find work when my father lost his eyesight. we struggled always but we survived. This isn’t meant to be a pity party. My folks are strong as fuck. My point is, none of this is supposed to happen to girls like me. I was just a girl who loved to make people laugh, who loved the theatre and was terrified of being invisible. But recent events have put me in a position where lack of anonymity is making my screw ups more prevalent to some. And its an awful feeling. I try really hard to appear to be a person that is supposed to live in this kind of situation I’m in, because I love it here. But the secret is, I have no idea what I’m doing. So I fuck up. And I perhaps come across as self-absorbed and opportunistic as a sad attempt to look mightier than the small town girl that I really am. This is my way of keeping people far enough away that they wont see the cracks in my armour.

Here’s my other big secret. I love a lot. Like A LOT. I cant help it. My attraction to good humans can not be harboured and I am not ashamed. You look at my phone and I generally have 7 text threads going on any given day. I want to know everything about you at all times. I want you to share your deepest passions and griefs with me. I wanna know you inside and out! Here’s the thing, I don’t like to let people love me. Fucked up right? I want to love you but I don’t want you to need me. Cause I’ll disappoint you and you’ll go away and then it’ll all be for nothing. If I’m really scared of your love i’ll be unemotional, or distant, or if you’re really lucky- I might even be mean. 

Anyway this is my point: This exact life I’m living right now is a combination of my greatest dream and my most terrifying nightmare. I am not invisible and I can’t escape the love and the loving needs of others. I’m living a life that many including myself have only dreamed of. And I’m terrified that I’m just going to screw it all up.

So I’m writing this to let you know I’m going to work really really hard and do my absolute best to not fuck this up. Any of it. This is the steepest learning curve I’ve ever had in my life and I can no longer hide the fact that I feel in over my head. But stick with me, K? I’ll figure it all out really soon. 

Thank you for everything that you’ve given me and the patience you continue to give me. I’m sorry if it seems like I’ve taken your love for granted. It’s actually just the opposite. I just didn’t want you to know ;)


anonymous asked:

Hey man I was just wondering what your take was on the whole controversy around the age difference in Call Me By Your Name and people deeming it as pedophilia because it portrays an adult man pursuing a minor? I know you loved the film so am interested to hear your opinion on the topic.

I didn’t answer this question when I first received it at least two months ago because it’s a complicated issue and it demands that I go into things I wouldn’t normally go into. That said, since this movie means a lot to me and it’s going to be a big part of movie culture for the next year or so, I want to take a stab at answering this.

First of all, I think personal experience dictates a person’s perspective on anything, especially art. That means that if for any reason Call Me by Your Name is triggering or makes you uncomfortable based on your own experiences or feelings, you should do whatever you need to do to stay away from it. I do not believe that gives you the right to say that those that do support the film are supporting pedophilia or glamorizing rape. 

That said, I’m seeing a lot of moral absolutism when it comes to the discourse around this issue. It’s an innate human desire for every issue to have a clear “right” and “wrong” but that’s just not the way of the world. Personally, I’m not keen on people who aren’t able to admit to or identify when subjects are more complicated than a simple dichotomous answer. This is especially frustrating for me given the subject matter. Would it suddenly be OK if Elio’s character were 18, instead of 17? Because “that’s what the law says”? If we follow that train of thought, we fall very quickly down the rabbit hole that depends on laws dictating what is and is not “right” - I think we can all easily admit that the laws are a poor judge of this. 

Even more than that, I think that calling the relationship depicted in the story “predatory” shows an astounding lack of critical thinking and analytical skills. It’s that straight-forward. It’s like when you’re in high school and you have to write a paper about the book you were reading for class. Say the thesis of this paper is, “Oliver is predatory character” - ok, sure, show me the evidence! But guess what? It’s not there. I’ve read the book twice now and there’s not enough textual evidence to support that claim. 

To arrive at the conclusion that Call Me by Your Name depicts pedophilia means that you would first have to strip away all the necessary context within the film that defines the relationship itself. 

As someone who has experienced first hand what it’s like to be groomed by a pedophile and then be abused for more than a year, it’s offensive to me that people are lodging this claim against the movie. This is a movie that celebrates what it’s like to be in love. I’m not asking you to agree with me or share that experience with me. I’m not even asking you to change your opinion on the film because that’s your right just as much as it is mine. That’s simply how I feel about it. 

Context is everything. Moral absolutism is dangerous. 

You Understand, Right?

Characters: Dean Winchester x Sister!Reader / Friend!Reader, Sam Winchester x Sister!Reader / Friend!Reader, Bobby, John

Length: 1663+ words

TW: Suicide. Depression. Abandonment. Dean being a jerk. 

A/N: Another word vomit that I did when I couldn’t sleep last week. I just had the idea in my head for the whole night, and I knew if I didn’t write it down, I wouldn’t be able to remember it the next morning. So, here it is! Feedback is encouraged!

SERIES MASTERLIST


The thing about the Winchester family was that they collect family like one would collect dolls. They have a lot of family around the State, any of them willing to do anything for the brothers. They always had a saying. 

Family doesn’t end in blood.

Except it does. They can say it as many times as they want, but there isn’t anything they wouldn’t do for the family. Their blood family. 

You were 4 when you were collected by John, and shipped off to Bobby’s. You were basically raised alongside the brothers from then on. Sam being a year older than you, and his brother, Dean, being 5 years older than you.

You were 5 when Dean ran out of breakfast. Bobby, and John were gone on a hunt, leaving 10 year-old Dean in charge. There was half a single granola bar left, and he looked uneasily between you and Sam, both of you had complained about being hungry. He gave you a strange look, and even though you were 5, you knew what it meant. Afterall, John gave you the same look when he told you why you can’t come home to your parents. It was also the same look that Bobby gave you when you asked about your parents. The look of guilt. You turned away, not being able to handle the fact that his decision had already been made when he was 4, and the responsibility of Sam’s livelihood was thrusted into his hands.

“Not hungry,” you mumbled, despite your roaring stomach. Sam’s eyes lit up with glee as he snatched the snack from his brother’s hand, and you can see Dean’s face visibly relax.

“Sammy’s my responsibility. You understand, right?” Dean asked, a hopeful smile on his face.

You gave him a nod, hopping off the chair, and went back to your bed, hoping you can sleep away the hunger. 

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

What do you have against Bex? (Can u also provide evidence thanks 💜)

When I first got this ask, I was tempted to play it off as a joke and say “the fact she exists,” and leave it at that. But I feel like it’s important to stay informed. And if you genuinely don’t know, I’ll give you the complete rundown. It’s long, it’s messy, and it’s nasty, so bear with me.

First, and introduction. When I talk about Bex, I’m referring to the actress Bex Taylor-Klaus, who is the voice actor (or VA) of the character Pidge in the show Voltron Legendary Defender on Netflix.

It all began a while ago when Bex liked a comment of a picture. The picture involved a ship called Shei//th. I censored the name so it doesn’t show up in the tags of that on tumblr. But essentially it’s a ship between two characters, Takashi Shirogane, a 25 year old pilot who is the leader of the team, and Keith Kogane, one of the other “paladins” or fighters on the team. People like me find this ship to be distasteful, since Shiro is an adult, and the others are teens (it’s actually a bit messier than that, since an official Voltron source listed Keith as 18, but the producers of the show, Lauren Montgomery and Joaquim Dos Santos, said they were not consulted on the book so there’s some question as to whether it’s canon or not). Either way, the consensus by most reasonable people is that it’s probably not a healthy thing to depict in children’s media, when you consider the considerable age difference, the power imbalance (leader, senior officer with someone they are in charge of), and finally, the iconic line by the character of Keith himself when he defines their relationship as a familial one.

Nonetheless, the ship persists, as nasty things on tumblr are wont to do. There’s a lot of shipping discourse on tumblr between two distinct groups which can be labelled as “antis”–people who are not in favor of any Shiro/paladin ships, or what has become to be known as “shaladins”–people who ship any variation of Shiro with the paladins.

Here is where Bex got involved. On Instagram there was a picture of a black shoe and a red shoe together and the joke was about the shoes being a prophecy that Shei//th would be canon. A joke, mostly, considering all the evidence above. But here’s where Bex got herself in trouble. She liked a comment on the picture where someone said “Keith is a power bottom confirmed.”

Obviously, this caused a bit of an uproar within the fanbase, especially between the discourse between antis and shaladins. Shaladins were celebrating that an Official Voltron Source liked their ship, and antis were angry about that acknowledgement of the ship at all by official sources, and the sexualization of a kid’s show (more on this later.)

So of course this sparked the discourse on tumblr. One user, @lancehunks, who was receiving asks about Bex, tagged her in the replies.They were definitely unfavorable. 

and 

and a few more. 

Bex, being the big strong, adult, woman she is, decided that she could not take this obviously grievous insult to her name [sarcasm], and decided to reblog them all and respond to them. Keep in mind, that @lancehunks was just 13 years old. And Bex (22) decided that these were appropriate responses:

Yep, you read that right. Not only an adult but employed on a kid’s show! To a 13 year old! The target audience of the very show she’s a part of! (Oh, the hypocrisy). But wait, there’s more:

Just in case you’re confused, let me tell you the many, many reasons why this is unacceptable. 

  1.  Bex is an adult. You’d think she’d be a little more mature by now just in general. It’s the internet and there are trolls.
  2. The person she was addressing was 13!!!! Do I think it was mature to tag Bex in all those posts? No. But it’s… behavior that you can expect from 13 year old’s on the internet. If we swore at and tore down every single one of them every time they did something dumb, we would need a lot more therapists for teens in the world. Plus it’s really disingenuous to pretend that we wouldn’t have done something similar when we were younger if we were in that position.
  3. Bex is famous. While she’s certainly not on the caliber of massive A-List stars like Tom Holland or Zendaya, she has a fanbase that exceeds the normal person’s friend group. Just because she’s been on TV before, she has groupies that will support her no matter what, who will troll for her, who uncritically and unconditionally worship her. I’m not a Bex fan, nor do I really care to know her well enough to know just exactly how many fans she has, to be certain she does have them. When she publicly reblogged those words, that “motherfucker,” those fighting words, she weaponized her fanbase. What I mean when I say that is her behavior gave her groupies permission to behave the same way. By targeting someone who didn’t like her (a thirteen year old!!!!!), she opened the gates to her fans and groupies doing the same thing, to a kid.

This lead to some terrible things happening. The 13 year old was getting death threats, sexual violence threats, and nsfw content, all because Bex just couldn’t let it go. 

What does this mean? Finish it? Finish the kid? If you’re so sick of the fighting, then why did you even respond in the first place? Bex is the one who escalated the situation. Bex is the one who caused the fighting in the first place (by that I mean the fighting between the two that night, the fighting between antis and shaladins has been going on for as long as the show).

There we go. Now he have something resembling dignity. But unfortunately the damage was done, and user @lancehunks deleted their blog. As a direct response to Bex’s actions. Bex caused a 13 year old to leave tumblr. 

When hearing this news, Bex offered a half-assed apology:

This is the most insincere apology I have ever seen. “The internet has Bad things on it and it’s YOUR fault for seeing them” is not an apology. The best part is that she’s a big fat hypocrite. “Sometimes, when it’s harmless, the best thing I can do is shake my head and keep scrolling.” So why didn’t you Bex? Why didn’t you keep scrolling instead of targeting a 13 year old?

In light of recent political events, though there’s one thing that stands out to me: 

Sound like anybody you know? The esteemed President, perhaps?

*disclaimer* I am in no way claiming that Bex is a Trump supporter. I don’t know enough about her–and I don’t want to know enough about her–to know where she leans politically. I’m just drawing the attention to the similarities in moral equivalency going on, here.*

Sure you targeted a 13 year old and weaponized your fanbase, but someone tagging you in a snarky post is just as bad, right? (Wrong.)

You’d think that would be the end. You’d think that Bex would be capable of living and learning, or maybe even just taking her own advice, and keep scrolling. But here we go again.

The next bit of drama started when the possibly canon guide book was released, stating Keith’s age as 18. There was a big celebration on the shaladin side because technically, that would make it “legal” for Keith and Shiro to have sex. Besides the fact that legal  ≠ moral, again, Voltron is a kid’s show. But on tumblr this time, Bex posted this.

This time, the discourse surrounding Bex was a little different., This time, the discourse mostly focused on the fact that even if Shiro and Keith disregarded canon and morals and the fact that it’s a kid’s show ever did get in a relationship, the only thing that matters is how they like to have sex.

This is a problem for a lot of reasons. There’s a culture, pretty prominent on tumblr of women, mostly white, who are obsessed with gay sex. They write fanfiction and p*rn solely for their own personal gratification. This, of course, is a gross misinterpretation to wanting LGBT+ representation. If you aren’t a mlm (an acronym for men-loving-man, that includes many sexualities) then writing p*rn about is sexualizing them, using them as a tool to get yourself off, and not like complex human people. Mlm are more than how they like to have sex. In fact, that shouldn’t be a part of a discussion for anybody except between willing partners. This also feeds into the popular and damaging stereotype that gay men are predatory by nature.

So, as a whole, not good. 

And again, we have a whole situation escalated by Bex. The worst part is, to people who tried to explain this to her, the only response they were given was a gif:

So once again, a minor dared to express their distaste for Bex on tumblr. But this time, they didn’t tag her. This time, they censored her name. But Bex found it anyway. And she decided to do the exact same thing that led to a minor leaving the website, and to stop watching the show. 

Have no fear, this time though. This time, Bex is going after a 14 year old, at least she’s not going after kids anymore, right? [sarcasm]

Some final notes. 

Bex claims to be an LGBT+ rights activist. I’m also pretty sure she’s a lesbian herself (again, I already know too much about her, I’m not looking to get to know her better.) So, you’d think, as someone who wants equality for LGBT+ people and communities, she’d have the wherewithal to listen to specific subsets of that group when they say something about themselves, like, for example, young mlm who don’t appreciate being sexualized by a white woman. So I couldn’t help but laugh out loud when I saw this on her blog:

Now, I happen to agree with the above statement, but it’s so ironic, so hypocritical that Bex is talking about the sexualization of anything. Because kid’s shows aren’t safe from her sexualization and mlm certainly aren’t. How can one person be so incredibly oblivious? A mystery that I don’t have any interest in solving. 

I also want to address something a little more devious and a little more dark. I personally know of at least 12 different people who sent Bex asks, politely explaining some of the things I’ve talked about here, or relaying how her words hurt them personally. Bex never answered any of them. But she did answer this:

Just to be perfectly clear, I do not condone or encourage hatemail. Do not send people anything wishing them death or harm in any way. I have never sent nor do plan on sending hatemail, and you should be ashamed of yourself if you do.

However, this is incredibly nefarious. Bex doesn’t answer any of the many asks she got that were polite, but proved her wrong. She didn’t answer any of the young mlm who gave her their personal stories and who weren’t anonymous. Instead, she publishes this. And she did this on purpose, to make her look innocent, to make her look like she’s the one being attacked. I get hatemail every single day too. Things along similar lines to this. I block the user. Delete them, One, because I don’t want to expose my followers to that kind of negativity on a daily basis, two, a mature person knows that deleting them is the best kind of revenge because the user will be constantly looking for a response and they will know they had no effect on me and three, because if you do that, eventually they stop. This is intentional on Bex’s part to make the people who don’t like her look bad. I don’t like Bex at all, and I certainly do not support that message. Any reasonable person wouldn’t. Also the fact that it’s an anonymous message adds a certain air of doubt as to who sent it. 

The point is, Bex is purposely ignoring polite and well-meaning people and posted this to “prove” she’s the one on the “good” side because no good person would send that message.

This is also worth noting: 

This was posted after the lancehunks debate but before the power bottom comment she made. In this post, Bex admits that a relationship between Shiro and any of the paladins is predatory in nature. She said that. Her words. And then after that she said that Keith was a power bottom. 

The last thing I want to say, is that Voltron is a kid’s show. It’s rated US-TV-Y7. Which means for years 7 and older. Regardless of the ship, there should be no sexual content, be it fanart, of fanfiction of Voltron characters at all. We are all collectively responsible for keeping content age-appropriate for the target audience. So, stop it. All and any ships. 

For minors, this is my advice to you:
Bex is a predator, a hypocrite, and a liar. Do not engage with her. Block her. Do not tag her in any of your posts. She has a history of targeting minors. Protect yourself. Do not engage.

I wonder why each little bird has a someone to sing to

i got a few requests for a companion piece to the gifts of beauty and song, my retold sleeping beauty fairytale, so here you go

so maleficent is the good fairy here, right, and the three fairies are the bad ones, so like fae do they each appear to be what they’re not. and aurora, given fae gifts and raised by fae, is nearly fae herself. maleficent knows that only an elf could hope to sway a fae heart, because elves are impervious to their glamour. maleficent kidnaps the young prince philip, and brings him to the elven realm. she tries to bargain a prince for a prince, but the king is unswayed. a human prince, he declared, is only worth an elvish servant, so that’s what she gets.

maleficent takes the servant and puts him in philip’s place, gives him that name, and watches as the servant elf is made a prince among mortals, watches as he eventually captures aurora’s heart, and saves her from her living death. watches as the elf servant turned prince becomes a king, as the almost-fae princess aurora becomes queen, and their two kingdoms become one and they rule the land of men together.

this, of course, begs the question – what happens to our dear human philip?

he is not the first child that has been bargained away to the elves, and elf queen thalia settles the young boy on her hip and raises an eyebrow at her husband, waiting. the child awakens by degrees, until he’s clutching her neck and blinking at the gathered elves. thalia is only grateful that he hasn’t started screaming, like so many of his kind do.

normally the children that are bargained to them are put to work in the castle, where they’re safe, where their clumsiness and their ignorance and their mistakes will be glossed over, where she and the king will ensure they will be politely ignored rather than harassed. they’ve lost a servant boy, and so she’s sure a servant boy is what this young human is meant to become.

except a woman of the court steps forward, and she’s old, old enough that it shows, that her curly hair has gone silver and wrinkles are etched deep in her face. lady ember is older than the forests they reside in, is older than her grandmother, than her great grandmother. everyone’s lost track of her exact age, but she’s the oldest elf in village. thalia likes her – she and lady ember have skin of the same dark shade. thalia hopes that if she is to live long enough, she and lady ember would look alike.

“i would like the child,” she says, eyes like amber, and for the moment she appears younger than she ever has. there’s something eager in her, and it brings a life to her that thalia hasn’t seen in a long time.

thalia looks to her husband, and king celedor gives a minuscule twitch to his lip which is an equivalent to a shrug. she sets the young human on the ground, and ember holds out a single hand. the child looks behind him, then in front him, and takes cautious steps forward. he steps until he can take her hand, his own looking small and pale in hers. “it’s been a long time since i was able raise a child,” ember says, “i would like to do so again. will you come home with me?”

and thalia understands. elf children take many hundreds of year to mature, and ember would not risk dying on a child before it could take care of itself. but humans are candles that burn at both ends – hot, and fast. within a decade or two the child in front of them will be able to survive on his own, will not need lady ember to coddle him for centuries.

he nods, and finally opens his mouth to say, “i am philip.”

“hello philip,” lady ember smiles, “i am lady ember of the mother tree. now you are lord philip of the ember tree.”

they are elves. they don’t do something as gauche as gasp, but the sentiment comes out just the same. celedor’s mouth drops open a millimeter and thalia’s right index finger twitches. raise a human child like a beloved pet they could all understand – but to adopt one, to truly adopt one that she’d just met and didn’t know and bequeath to him the estate and title the noble name of the mother tree?

lady ember leads her new son away, and the gathered elves can do nothing but stare.

~

prince elion – eli, to everyone who doesn’t want the prince of the elves nursing a personal grudge against them – comes home in the dead of night, when he can slip past the guards and the fawning people on the street and sneak into the royal quarters.

“mother,” he greets as he enters the library. his father sleeps early, but his mother doesn’t go to bed until nearly dawn. he kneels by her side, and she runs a hand through his hair, tugging the leather tie off when it gets in her way. his mass of dark curly hair tumbles around his head, and as he shakes it out leaves other debris fall out. thalia sighs, but doesn’t remark on it.

“your hunt went well?” she asks, although she knows the answer. eli is one of the best hunters in the kingdom, and his hunting parties – comprised of the strongest and best among the noble families – are notoriously profitable.

he grins, teeth extra white against his skin, “of course, mother. did anything interesting happen while i was away?”

“the faerie maleficent came and bargained away a human prince,” she says, “she wanted you in return. your father gave her a servant boy instead.”

eli laughs, too loud and boisterous, in a way he would never allow himself to laugh around his father or his subjects.

~

philip thinks perhaps he should be screaming, or crying, or causing some sort of fuss about this new life and this old woman who insists she’s his mother now. but he’s never had a mother before, and this new place is beautiful. they live in palace carved out of an enormous tree – the mother tree that their name comes from – and philip is given a lot more freedom as an elf lordling than he was as a prince.

he hopes the boy who took his place is nice to his father, and doesn’t mind long evenings with only the servants for company. being a prince can be very lonely. he knows from experience.

ember gives him rooms and toys, but warns him that he has a lot of work ahead of him. as a human, he’s at a severe disadvantage here at the elf court. elves are faster than humans, stronger and smarter and wiser. “it sounds to me,” philip says, “that maybe they’re just older. if i had hundreds of years, I could be all those things too.” ember’s eyes crinkle at the corners when she smiles, and he returns it.

philip knows hard work. he was set to rule a whole nation, was set to lead whole armies. he knows training and learning and patience. learning to become an elf lord seems like it will be a lot easier than being a human king.

lady ember and her servants are harsh, but fair. in their home, in the mother tree, he is a pampered lord. out of it, however – he acquires many scars from training, from falling and failing. ember and her staff run him ragged into the ground, because he must be able to keep up with elves.

they have hundreds and hundreds of years to practice, to become strong and smart and fast. philip doesn’t have that long, so his mother forces him to do more, train harder, learn faster than would be expected of any elf.

so he learns. the first time he beats his trainer at an archery competition, he feels a swell of pride like nothing he’s felt before. as he inches his way to the level of his teachers, and then surpasses them, the feeling stays.

they’ve always been kind to him. but as his skill grows, they come to respect him, and that’s far more valuable.

~

eli hears of the human that lady ember of the mother tree took as her own – of course he does, it’s all anyone can talk about. but he doesn’t actually get a chance to see the boy, because lady ember keeps him safe on her lands, in her tree that none of them dare trespass on. so he assumes, like many, that she keeps him coddled and safe, away from those who would seek him harm, away from a world that would seek him harm.

then, two decades from when she gave young philip her name, lady ember finds him at court. she tilts her head, and he bows. he may be higher in rank, but he was raised to respect his elders, and lady ember is certainly that. “prince eli,” she says, “your next hunt is coming up, isn’t it?”

“yes, my lady,” he answers, wondering if she has a request. he doesn’t mind tracking down a certain type of meat or pelt for her – he likes the challenge, and likes lady ember.

she smiles at him, and for some reason he feels as if he’s staring into the jaws of a dragon. “excellent. might my son join you? he grows bored of hunting on his own.”

the last thing in the world eli wants to do is keep an eye on a bumbling, spoiled human. but this human is also the lord of the mother tree, and he can think of no response that wouldn’t bring his mother’s wrath down on his head. “of course, lady ember.”

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BTS skinship in public vs in private

my second post in my BTS reactions/preferences series whoopidy whoopidy whoop. are they reactions or preferences? ahhh idek anymore gah

also PLEASE message me any requests you have whether they be dirty reactions or fluffy imagines, I WANNA HEAR THEM ALL :P

the following content is for mature minds only ;)

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— aquiver | 04 (m)

aquiver (adj.) [uh-kwiv-er] in a state of trepidation or vibrant agitation; trembling; quivering

pairingmin yoongi x reader
genre/warnings— mentions of death, slight angst, mentions or mature themes, fluff
words10,495

:: summary— Yoongi can’t remember the last time he was able to successfully bring himself to the point of orgasm, then Namjoon gives him a business card advertising ‘Healing Hands’, and that’s where he meets you; pretty and innocent looking, who gets paid to provide hand jobs for a living…

note.— inspired by the novella ‘The Grownup’ by Gillian Flynn, literally just the main character’s past occupation haha

» 01 :: 02 :: 03 :: 04 :: 05 :: 06 :: 07

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A/N: Okay, you guys. I just can’t wait any longer, I’m so excited to share this fanfiction (and this cover) with you all. I am so hyped! May I introduce? In a heartbeat.

Synopsis: Showing up on time for an important job interview is all you worry about when you rush through the streets of New York City on a sunny day, not expecting at all to bump into Thor, God of Thunder and his mischievous brother Loki. Before you know it, you get dragged right into a gruesome battle between two foreign realms and the atrocious menace of Ragnarök, confronted with breath-taking magic, terrifyingly hazardous threats and a fierce warrior who claims to be a Valkyrie. And as if this wasn’t enough already, you find yourself headfirst falling in love with the God of Mischief who, much to your disppointment, already seemed to have set his eyes on someone else, leaving you struggling with rejection, jealousy, heartache and more antagonising pain than your human heart could ever cope with.

Pairing: Loki x Reader
Rating: M
Chapter: 1/?
Warnings: SPOILERS FOR THOR RAGNAROK, violence and blood, mentions of slavery, death, self-harm, depression, panic attacks, jealousy, grief, heartache, smut, Dom!Loki. (More warnings might be added throughout the story)

Read it on AO3!

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Humans Are Weird - Language

Crew Recreation Room, SSV Eternal Grace

“Hey, toss the remote over here, will ya?” Chief Jesse’s accented voice was barely audible over the rabble created by the rest of the crew in the packed rec room of the spacecraft. His outstretched hand was waiting for a remote, which was thrown his direction by one of the human engineers across the room. “Cheers mate. Now, if I can get everyone’s attention!” He waited for a few moments to be acknowledged and rolled his eyes, not surprised that he was ignored. He stood up on one of the tables and slammed his left boot down onto it, the impact creating a loud enough bang that turned a few heads. “I said shut the bloody hell up!” That got everyone’s attention, and Jesse nodded with approval as he pulled his datapad from a pouch on his duty belt and held it up for him to read.

“Alright-y, ladies, bastards, and the rest of you lot, I’ve got a few words from our ever-so-lovely captain regarding a few security concerns they’ve raised with me. Firstly: Op-Sec! That’s short for “Operational Security” for those that can’t understand acronyms. While we aren’t a part of the IMSF, we are contracted to the Intergalactic Governing Council, meaning that we do have a level of secrecy that we need to abide by. That means when talking to your folks back home about how things are going, you need to be more mindful about what you are telling them. Please don’t tell them about where our next few ports of call are, or the areas we’re operating in at the current time unless you are on a secure channel or it is a matter of dire emergency. Last thing we all need is a bunch of pirate pricks to raid us all because one of us had a loose pie-trap, you got me?”

Jesse listened to a murmur of agreement before nodding approvingly and consulting his notes. “Sweet! Second: It’s come to my attention by some of the guards that some of you horny buggers are sneaking off to secluded areas to do the do, if you get my drift? Now, because I’m a decent bastard - yes, hard to believe that, but I am decent,” he had to wait a moment for a few chuckles to settle down before continuing on, “I won’t be naming names or shaming people. Honestly, I don’t care who or what you decide to fuck, as long as it’s in your own time. What I do care about is the use of protection and the locations where I’m hearing people are being caught in the act.”

Zan’via and another member of the crew, a human medical staffer by the name of Kelly Jean, were standing towards the back of the room listening to him remind the group that areas like the engine rooms and storage bays weren’t conductive to ‘safe sex’. Zan’via noted that every once in a while Kelly would chuckle at a few words and phrases that the security chief would use, and once the man had finished his announcements, Zan’via decided to see what exactly caused Kelly to find they’re friends speech humorous.

“Excuse me, Doctor Jean, if I may have a moment of your time?” Zan’via spoke up before the woman could leave and return back to the medical wards.

“Certainly, Zan’via. What’s the problem?” She replied, gesturing towards an empty table nearby.

“Well, I found it a slight bit concerning that you were quietly laughing during Chief Lynn-Michael’s announcements on what I believe were fairly serious subjects.” They started, leveling a neutral expression towards the doctor.

“Oh? You noticed that? I’m sorry, I just find the way the Chief speaks to be amusing, that’s all.” Kelly said, blushing slightly at how she’d been caught out.

“The way the Chief speaks?”

“You have to admit, he does have a way with words, right?” Kelly prodded, now curious as to how Zan’via, and by extension the rest of the Gal’eth race, would interpret the Chief’s speaking patterns and mannerisms. There was a moment of silence before Zan’via emitted what could be interpreted as a ‘groan’ and shook their head.

“I would, if I could understand some of the terms and phrases he uses on a frequent basis.” They admitted with a small sigh, rubbing their face in irritation. “I’ve been meaning to ask him about it, but every chance I get he’s either busy or something comes up that needs his attention.”

“Maybe I can help. Granted, I’m not fluent in Australian English, but I’ve been around him long enough to pick a few things up.” The classifier that Kelly used before the name of the adopted universal language piqued Zan’via’s interest.

“Australian English? You mean there is more than one form of the language?”

“Well, yes and no. English as a whole is one language, but there are different versions or dialects of it, and each differ by region. The three major versions I’ve encountered in my life are American English, British English, and Australian English. The differences are subtle between them, like spelling and how there are different names between the three for the same object. Australian English, which is what our wonderful Chief of Security is quite fluent in, is actually an interesting blend of both the American and English systems, with some unique terminology and rules thrown in for fun.”

“For fun?” Zan’via asked with a surprised expression.

“Yes, for fun. There are a few ways that Australian English, or ‘Aussie’ as it’s referred to sometimes, is easily distinguished against the others. And that’s one right there: shortened versions of words.” Kelly said with a smile.

“I do not quite follow.”

“It’s a joke, both to Australians and to foreigners, that they are a lazy bunch and will shorten anything that can be shortened. Australian becomes Aussie, service center becomes ‘serve-o’, names like Bermingham, Wilson and McDonald are turned into ‘Birm-o’, ‘Wils-o’ and ‘Macca’ respectively. That brings me to a second trait: nicknames.”

“Nicknames?”

“The Chief’s full name and title is Head of Security Jesse Lynn-Michaels. When he was in the IMSF, he was Special Operations Chief Petty Officer Jesse Lynn-Michaels. That’s where he has his current ship’s nickname, Chief. It was a shorter way of calling his rank. The same carries across to any name or title if you’re an Australian, even if your name is relatively short. Occasionally he’ll call me Doc or ‘Kel’, or the Captain ‘Boss’. I’m sure he’s even shortened your own name from time to time.”

“You would be right on that regard, he constantly calls either me ‘Zan’ or ‘Zany’.” They said with what could be called a soft smile.

“See? It also serves as a benefit to tell when he’s being serious with you or not. If you hear him yell ‘Zany, get over here’, then you’re less likely to be in trouble than if he addresses you as ‘Zan’via’ or ‘Engineer’s Mate Third Class Zan’via Top’hei’.” Kelly stifled a chuckle as she saw the large alien being visibly shudder at the use of their full rank and title. “I guess some things are universal, right?”

“Agreed, and I see your point.”

“Good. Another classic hallmark which I’m sure you’ve noticed is the excessive swearing and use of rather frank terms and phrases.” Kelly said with a slight frown.

“That I have noticed; both him and his security team do sound more profane than other members of the crew.”

“Mhm. It’s another joke that Aussies don’t have a filter, and will often say what needs to be said at the expense of themselves and others. On one hand, this can be a benefit as you can safely assume that they are being genuine in their remarks. On the other, that same trait can get them into serious trouble. Do you think the Captain would have made those announcements in the same fashion, and with the same phrases?”

“I do not, it is safe to say that our Captain would have been much more formal and polite about the entire ordeal.” Zan’via said resolutely, their trust in the Captain surpassing everything else.

“Would you have paid attention through the whole thing?” The follow up caught them off guard.

“I beg your pardon?”

“If the Captain was the one speaking, would you have paid attention and remembered everything they would have said?”

Zan’via had to stop and think for a moment, recalling some of the longer briefings they’ve had to attend with the rest of the engineering department. The Captain was no doubt a good speaker, but they could admit that some of the time the Captain spoke could have been better spent on moving along with the subject matter.

“I do not like admitting this, but it is likely that I would forget some topics that they would cover.”

“You aren’t the only one, and that’s most likely why the Chief speaks so frankly and casually. It keeps the audience relaxed yet alert at the same time, and it also helps deflate any tension and unease when topics like sexual relationships are brought up. That said, Chief knows the limit, and if he started swearing and cursing with every second or third word he knows that he’ll lose his audience and risk getting himself in trouble.” Kelly’s datapad chimed at her from her pocket, and she quickly glanced at a clock on a nearby wall. “Oh, damn. Zan’via, I’ll be happy to continue this conversation later. I’ve got a patient in the Eye-See-You that I need to attend to.”

“Very well, ‘Doc’.” Zan’via said with a smile as the doctor stood up and hurried away.

‘I’ll have to ask her what certain words mean, next time…’

Someone to Watch Over Me

Title:  Someone to Watch Over Me (A Bodyguard AU)

Series Masterlist (coming soon)

Author:  Dean’s Dirty Little Secret

Six months ago, everything changed. Widowed and alone, Dean Winchester is determined to pick himself up and move on, so he goes back to his job as a bodyguard for Singer Protective Services. His first assignment? An actress receiving death threats, an actress with an uncanny resemblance to his wife.

You don’t want protection, don’t need it. Especially from someone as cold and impersonal as Dean Winchester. You’re not afraid of a bunch of stupid death threats, you just want to be left alone to live your life.

Two people, two very different lives. Who will be the first to let the armor slip?

Characters:  Dean Winchester, Female reader, Bobby Singer, Tiny, Sam Winchester (mentioned), Georgia (OFC), Melissa (OFC-mentioned)

Word Count:  2936

Warnings: language, mentions stalking, death threats, mentions of blood

Author’s Notes: This was written for two challenges: @impala-dreamer One Prompt for All (had to be Dean x Reader, no more than 3,000 words, and the prompt: “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to kill me.”) and @luci-in-trenchcoats AU & Things Challenge (I chose Bodyguard AU). I’m not gonna lie, a lot inspiration for this came from the Whitney Houston/Kevin Costner movie The Bodyguard.

***My work is not to be posted on any other sites without my express written permission.***

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Imagine Bill talking about how nervous he was during your first meeting and letting it slip he has a crush on you during an interview.

Originally posted by karlmordo

“So I- I didn’t ask you at first and don’t think anybody has let it go-” Jimmy said with a chuckle and Bill grinned to himself, nodding his head “But uh you said you met (Y/n) almost eight years ago? That’s- that’s a very long time you know.”

“Uh yeah” Bill rubbed the back of his neck a little nervously “My father had uhm he had invited me actually on set, to bemore specific, and I could never miss a chance like that. And- and that’s where I met her.”

“Hmh” Jimmy nodded his head “On the- on the set of Thor, right? Her character, and her as a person, has many fans that love her and is quite famous and so are you. Yet nobody has noticed a thing for all this time, it’s quite remarkable how you kept so low you know?”

“Oh uh” he chuckled “Well, it wasn’t that easy I will tell you. But we uhm had a friendship that we really wanted to last and for us to enjoy it we- we made the decision to be as subtle about it as possible. Our families knew of course, and so did our- our friends but uhm-” he cleared his throat, trying not to get off topic and let something slip of the two of you being more than just friends “It was all sort of- sort of us… living the moment every time, trying to make it just about… us?” he tried to explain with hand motions, hoping it didn’t come out so much as it being more than a friendship.

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Why We Need to Appreciate Padmé Amidala

In spirit of #SWisagirlthingtoo making its way around Twitter, I thought now would be the perfect time to make a post I’ve been wanting to write for a while. Star Wars up until recently has not given much attention to its heroines, perhaps with the exception of the iconic Princess and General Leia Organa. It is incredibly sad that it has taken this long for the franchise to realise that characters such as Leia, Padmé and Rey (as well as the many animated heroines we have met such as Ahsoka and Hera) have been and will forever continue to be definitive factors in the way many girls have and will grow up.

When it comes to Star Wars, I loved Leia and I love Rey, but they are both not the heroine I connected with. I connected with former Queen and then Senator Padmé Amidala from the highly criticised (although increasingly less so) prequels and then again in the animated series, Star Wars: The Clone Wars. Any Padmé fan knows that loving her as a character most often means you’ll often be told that in the end she did ‘nothing but cry over Anakin’ or is in no way comparable to her daughter, you’ll find it frustrating that no reference is made to her at all following Episode III and you’ll know that she has little to no presence in merchandising even when you are more than willing to throw coins down Disney’s way for her.

But Padmé deserves to overcome all of the above. Padmé constantly has to battle against both what people expected her to be (arguably a Leia clone) and the often restrictive and limiting definitions of what makes a “strong female character”, especially in pop culture. Regardless, here is why Padmé is such an underappreciated and amazing character.

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