i am probably the most ill fitted person for making this

5 Reason’s Why Supernatural is the Gayest Show on Television (That’s Still Stuck in the Closet)

To start with, I’m not delusional.  I’m fully aware that the studio and execs have settled into a comfortable pattern with Supernatural, and especially considering it’s heavily mixed demographic (interestingly, it was ranked a favorite among republicans and democrats in 2016) they’re unlikely to rock the ship with a canonically queer relationship between two of it’s main characters.  

However, it’s important to understand exactly how much queerness is bubbling beneath the thick surface layer of “no homo:”  from the orgies of male-on-male eyesex to the inspiration for most of its main characters, Supernatural is queer to its very core. 

Here are five (blaring but stubbornly unacknowledged) reasons why:

1.  Dean’s gratuitously bisexual inspiration. 

Whenever someone claims a queer interpretation of Dean is baseless, I’m always happy to direct them straight to his flamingly bisexual source:  Dean Moriarty, his namesake and direct inspiration, a la the novel On the Road.  

Admittedly, I read On the Road and didn’t particularly enjoy it, as I found it to be a somewhat masturbatory reassertion of masculinity for its narrator, Sal Paradise.  Sal idolizes and fixates the charismatic Dean and his promiscuous lifestyle, openly having sex with and impregnating multiple women, and is all around a heterosexual power figure…right up until the point at which Dean propositions a male prostitute.  

Though he’s never shown doing anything gratuitous with male characters (since the book was published in the 1960s, it wouldn’t have been legal to) it’s clear that Dean is very much bisexual, not ashamed of it, and in terms of personality, very similar to Dean.  There are a few key differences (Dean Moriarty, for example, legitimately gives zero fucks about anything, whereas Dean Winchester is secretly a little ball of anxiety with the weight of the world on his shoulders) but it’s clear where Eric Kripke got his inspiration from.

Moreover, Dean Moriarty was in turn based off of the real life bisexual counterculturist Neal Cassady, who among other things had a twenty-year sexual relationship with a male poet.  Here, he is pictured in a Denver mugshot: 

So next time someone tells you the homoerotic subtext of Supernatural exists only in the imagination of rabid fangirls, remember that Dean is the direct descendant of two ragingly bisexual icons.

2.  Castiel (or at least his wardrobe) was also based off of a bisexual character.

For a show so aggressively devoted to a “no homo” interpretation, it has a real propensity to drawing inspiration from queer characters:  everyone’s favorite baby in a trench coat, for example, was modeled after the demon-busting John Constantine from the Hellblazer comics.  Yup, another bisexual.   

Though in true assbutt fashion, his love of men is censored in movie and TV adaptions, Constantine unabashedly swings both ways in paper form – a.k.a. where Kripke found inspiration for Castiel’s look.  Here, we see him platonically receiving a man-hug from one of his bros:

So I’m not saying the fact that two out of three main characters are modeled after canonically queer figures could have anything to do with Supernatural’s gratuitous queer subtext, but y’know.  It might.

3.  Cas himself is sexually complex (and literally cannot be straight.) 

Dean has made reference to the fact that he “doesn’t swing that way” (ironically, both of which times he was literally in the midst of blatantly flirting with men.)  

Cas, however, has no such reservations:  he’s never indicated, vocally or otherwise, a preference towards either gender, so much as outright declaring that he doesn’t give a damn.  

He reacts to male and female flirtation much the same way:  just try and tell me his suspicious glower and Mick wasn’t similar to Mandy the waitress (and try and tell me they both weren’t acting like they’d like to eat him for dinner.)

Moreover, the only time we’ve seen him ever achieve some kind of intimacy with female characters is when they’re literally throwing themselves at him.  Hey, he’s an aesthetically pleasing fellow – or rather, an aesthetically pleasing something.  

Which brings me to my next point that he isn’t really a fellow at all:  Cas not only gives zero fucks about sexual orientation, he also gives zero fucks about gender.  Sure, he’ll spend seven years in the same ill-fitting trench coat, but he’ll also rock a petticoat like nobody’s business.

I’ve discovered that the writer for “Lily Sunder Has Some Regrets,” Steve Yockey, is a gay man, which honestly makes it all the more perfect:  not only does it establish the Orlando-esque flexibility (or nonexistence) of Cas’s gender, but it eliminates the possibility of his straightness.  

And I want Destiel to be canon as much as anybody, but am I opposed to Cas being a genderfluid lesbian?  No.  No, I am not.    

4.  Dean can textually be interpreted as bisexual (and probably should be.)

For anyone who questions whether Dean not being straight as an arrow, I’m happy to point out some very canon things that happened on the show:

(Examples courtesy of @some-people-call-it-tragic!)

And yes, when feeling threatened, he’s professed not to swing that way.  But you know how many queer people I know who have at one point felt compelled to lie about our sexual orientation?  Every single one.  And I live in the bluest of blue states – Dean was raised in Bible Belt America and spends most of his time in the Southwest.  Not to mention the fact that he was raised during the heat of the AIDS academic.

In other words, he has every logical reason to be wary at the prospect of coming out of the closet, or even acknowledging same sex attraction at all.

Moreover it’s been canonically established that Dean has a habit of lying about himself to protect his image of masculinity:  according to Dean, he doesn’t do shorts, chick flicks, cucumber water, skinny jeans and sunglasses, and Taylor Swift music.  You know how many of those things he loves?  All of them

Finally, not every member of the cast or crew might agree (though I know for a fact that some of them do) but their interpretations do not effect textuality.  And Dean can textually be interpreted as bisexual.  

5.  Dean and Cas make a better couple than any of their love interests.

I’m going to state something I feel is obvious:  Cas and Dean have more buildup, tension, chemistry, emotional connection, and romantic history than literally any of their other interests.  

Take Lisa, for example:  she’s Dean’s longest lasting introduced as female partner, and she’s introduced as the “bendiest weekend of his life.”  

Furthermore, I’d argue that sexual attraction notwithstanding, Dean was never romantically in love with Lisa.  To him, she epitomizes his desire for a mother figure, a home, and his lost childhood, as is best demonstrated in his fantasy from “Dream a Little Dream of Me:”  Lisa isn’t a seductive or romantic figure here – she’s a maternal one. 

Though since Dean has never had a long lasting relationship (or, to my belief, been completely in love with a girl) it’s easy to see how he’d misinterpret these feelings as romantic love. 

Then we have Cas, who’s introduced by pulling Dean from the depths of hell, who makes most one-on-one scenes with Dean look like a soft core porno, and who recently (canonically!) declared his love for Dean.  

I don’t dislike Lisa, but it’s easy to see which of the two relationships is more three-dimensional, more original, and more worthy of screentime.

World Enough and Time + Disability Representation

Warning: Spoilers

I expected World Enough an Time to be an amazing episode because, hey, two Masters and Mondasian Cybermen.  I did not expect this episode to be amazing because of disability representation, but it was.  In fact, I might call this episode one of my favorites, not because of the story, but because it was the first time I have seen myself onscreen.

I don’t talk about my disabilities on this blog since my main blog @spoonieswimmer is my platform for that.  I am chronically ill.  I am disabled.  I have been sick for four and a half years.  My illness was actually what got me into fandom in the first place, and it effects every second of my life.  In all that time, tonight was the first time seeing someone like me on screen.  And the character is the co-star on Doctor Who, my absolute favorite show.

Now don’t get me wrong.  Disability representation has been getting better.  (Class, anyone?)  In the past two seasons of Doctor Who, we have had 2 disabled characters.  (3, counting World Enough and Time.)  That’s great, but still a little weak.  And, disability is not one size fits all.  As a person with an invisible illness, my life is very different from someone who is D/deaf.  So, tonight was not the first time I have seen disability on tv, but it was the first time I have seen someone with a disability like mine.

If you haven’t figured it out yet, I am talking about Bill Potts.  Up until this episode, Bill was not disabled.  I am not even sure she was written to be disabled in this episode, but that does not change the fact that she is disabled.  In the absolute broadest terms, a disability is a condition that causes limitations in a person’s life.  Now, it is actually much more complex than this, but Bill’s fake heart definitely posed limitations on her.

I’m going to break down aspects of the episode and how they relate to me as a disabled person.  We’ll start with some superficial comparisons between Bill and myself and get deeper as we go.

  • Bill has a large device (her artificial heart) sticking out of her chest.  This is what keeps her alive.
    • I have a device implanted under the skin of my chest called a portacath.  A thin tube connects this device to my aorta and the tube ends just above my heart.  Every week, I have a needle inserted through my skin into the port and it can be used to deliver lifesaving medication.  Although my port is much smaller than Bill’s heart, it is still noticeable and uncomfortable.
  • Bill spent a significant portion of the episode dragging around an IV pole.
    • As part of my treatment, I get IVs done twice a week, though it used to be daily.  I spend six to ten hours a week hooked up to an IV, and, let me tell you, those things are really hard to drag around.  I actually spend most of my time watching Doctor Who while the bag drips.
  • At one point in the episode, Bill sat down into a wheelchair.  She could still walk, but it was on hand, which means she was likely a part-time wheelchair user.
    • Mobility devices are part of my life.  I have used a cane for some time, and lately I have been thinking of getting a wheelchair for part-time use.  I can walk, but it is painful and takes a lot of strength and energy that I don’t often have.
  • Bill cannot leave the hospital or her heart stops working.
    • Due to my disabilities, I am effectively housebound.  I leave my house about once a week, and get extremely sick every time I do.  I have had to quit school, sports, and all social activities because of it.
  • Bill has one friend for her entire stay in the hospital.  
    • It is very alienating to have a disability.  This is not only because it takes so much energy to go out and often you aren’t able to, but it is extremely hard to make and keep friends when your lives are so different.  
  • Bill’s one friend betrays her.
    • When you get sick, you quickly learn that friends don’t stick around.  Once they realize you won’t get better, they slowly stop talking to you one by one.  Four and a half years later, I have no friends left.  I thought that they were true friends, but they betrayed me, just like Bill was betrayed.
  • Bill spends the entire episode waiting for the Doctor.
    • When you are disabled, you spend a lot of time hoping, praying, and waiting for someone to help you.
  • Bill gets turned into a Cyberman.
    • Help does not come fast enough for the disabled.

I’ve cried over this episode.  I have spent a long time writing this, and I still have not managed to convey how important it is to me.  How important it is to have representation.  I could probably spend days pointing out metaphors for disability in this episode, and I sincerely hope that this is not the only time I will ever see myself on screen.  Representation is so important for every minority, but please, please, do not leave the disabled out of your activism.

anonymous asked:

okay so i grew up in a christian home and i am going to be a freshman in college this year. i didn't have sex in high school because i was afraid of parents finding out, and i didn't come out to them (i'm bi). i don't think there's anything wrong with sex before marriage really, and i know there's resources out there but, what your tips were for your first time/being safe/birth control etc. i know my parents will just have to accept my sexuality later on but i'm just looking for help...


General Sex Tips

1. I would highly recommend that you spend some time “getting to know yourself” before having sex. Feel around down there, see what feels good and what doesn’t. See if you can get yourself turned on. The more experience you have knowing what works for you, the better you’ll be able to communicate with your partner or partners and have an enjoyable experience. 

2. If you have a vagina, odds are that your first time having sex is going to be slightly painful. This is totally natural, and will go away as time goes by. But be prepared to be upfront with your partner and to ask them to go slowly or use more lube if things do start hurting. 

3. Speaking of lube, it doesn’t really matter what type you use, unless you have allergies. Lube can be used on condoms, dildos, penises, etc. Totally safe to go in your vagina or any other orifice, it’ll just feel sticky afterwards and you may want to shower.

4. Condoms! There are many different kinds (ribbed, flavored, hot and cold). Magnum are large condoms, so if you are buying condoms and don’t have a monster dick, you probably should not use them. An ill-fitting condom is an ineffective condom! Also make sure to always store condoms correctly and to throw them out after their expiration date. Only one condom at a time folks, wearing two condoms is not twice as protective. They’re more likely to rip.

5. If you have a vagina, you should be peeing and/or showering immediately after sex to prevent UTIs. These are no joke! They are extremely painful infections that cause you to pee blood. Always pee after sex. Pee twice. People with penises can also get UTIs, but it’s far harder.

6. Did you know that only 25% of people with vaginas can have vaginal orgasms? So if you can’t, don’t stress! There are all sorts of different orgasms to be had, and they are all equally amazing. If you’re not cumming, you’re not being stimulated properly. Try a new position, a new technique, try having your partner or partners stimulate you in a different area. The page I linked above is a bit gender specific, but it has really useful information, so please ignore these terms.

7. Foreplay is so important! Vaginas take an average of 20 minutes to get properly revved up and horny. The reason you’re “dry” down there is because you’re not properly stimulated. You can always use lube in a pinch or ask your partner to go down on you, but you’ll find that sex is easier and more enjoyable when you are literally “wet down there”.

8. Period sex. Oh how I love period sex. If you’re a first timer, you probably will be very disgusted by it. Vaginas are at their most sensitive during this part of the cycle, so achieving an orgasm can be easier. If you’re going to have period sex, throw a towel down first. Blood comes out super easily in the wash, you don’t have to do anything special to the cloth to get it clean. You will probably want to shower afterwards!

9. Communication is key. You cannot just lie back and think of England and hope that you’ll achieve a magical orgasm. It’s not like that. What turns your partner or partners on may not turn you on. This is absolutely fine! You may not even want to cum or be able to cum during your first time having sex, and this is fine too. Tell them what works and what doesn’t and be AS SPECIFIC AS POSSIBLE. 

10. On a similar note, you are not obligated to do anything to anybody else or to yourself that you are not comfortable with. You do not need to give blowjobs or hand jobs or even have sex with someone if you aren’t 100% into it. If someone is pressuring you and thinks that sex equates a happy relationship, then I would advise you to ditch them and get on with your life.

11. Protection! Please use protection. Whether this is condoms, birth control, an IUD, whatever. The pull out method does not work. I am a product of the pull out method. Not everyone with a penis has precum, but many do. Don’t take the chance! I am on birth control and I love it, but that’s a whole different post. 

12. Dildos come in all different shapes and sizes. You can get ones that are smaller and thinner than actual penises and ones that are comically large. Make sure to use lube! Wash them with dish soap in your sink and leave to dry. Some dildos that are “hyper realistic” come with a powder that you have to put on them. These are incredible dildos, I highly recommend them. They feel so life like!

13. Edible underwear does not taste all that good. Neither do flavored condoms.

14. Black sheets or black blankets and sex are not a good mix. You will see cum stains. They wash out super easily, you don’t need to do anything special to clean them. Just keep them out of sight when your friends and Aunt Kathy come over.

15. If you start having sex and decide that you want to stop having sex then please tell your partner and stop. You are not obligated to keep going if you feel uncomfortable. Your body = your choice.

16. If you have a vagina then you will want to make an OBGYN appointment shortly after you start having sex. These are vagina doctors and they can check your vagina out to make sure that everything is okay. You should probably get your vagina checked out often if you have multiple partners. If you are in a relationship with one person and use protection, then once a year is fine.

Tonight is actually my five year anniversary so that’s all for now! Good luck babe. Lots of love, you’ll be fine.

Episode 4 was a fandom wide callout post.

all you fools too busy being pissed bc Coran went all show crazy and basically re-characterized the paladins to what the masses found entertaining, to notice that the entire episode was literally a fandom wide call out post. they literally called us out guys. 

lets go over the list of things Coran said/did in ep 4 and compare them shall we?

let me preface this by saying he literally wasn’t himself and i still love him just as much as before, my gorgeous man.

”I worked up very specific personas for each of you. This is going to help the audience connect on a much deeper level with each team member.” 

as if they didn’t already have defining personalities that make them very likable and awesome? sounds familiar right? its one thing to speculate and theorize based on what we know about a character especially if we don’t know a lot about said character. the writers put a lot of time and effort into developing these characters and even said during an interview once that one of the things that bugged them about og Voltron was that the only properly developed character was Keith. the other guys didn’t get a chance to be loved. and that was what they aimed to do, to give every paladin and character the chance to be loved. since the beginning the fandom has been bad at this. taking one teeny trait from each character and twisting them so that the only thing that matters is that trait. 

         “lover-boy lance”

throughout the series lance is known  to flirt with…pretty much every cute alien girl. of course. hes handsome, charming, girls love him. Coran wipes away all of the actually relatable things about his personality in favor of this charming flirt who would win over girls. Lance is insecure, he’s witty, he is the freaking sharpshooter, the teams sniper and their glue. he’s voltrons right hand now for a reason. he got into the garrison which is a military space exploration base, not just anyone gets in. hes incredibly intelligent and a great pilot. amazing really. bc simulations are always absolutely terrible and rarely help. oh yea, and hes charming.but god forbid anyone forget that hes a flirt. who cares about the other stuff that will actually help the audience connect with him. 

        “science wiz pidge” 

its no secret that pidge is incredibly intelligent. she is one of the characters who haven’t gotten their developing points until this season. in one of the first flashbacks we learned she nearly gave up studying because some kid decided to be a dick and bully her. Matt pulled her out of it and encouraged her to work hard. later on in ep 4 coran says that her science doesn’t need to be factually correct because noone will understand her either way. he undermined her intelligence because . well. noone cares what she says as long as it sounds smart. fanfic writers do this a lot. like. a lot. i understand that you may not have the same knowledge that the girl who hacked herself into a military school base undercover at he age of 14-15 (if the theory that the garrison is a high school program is correct) because she had gotten banned for sneaking in and hacking into the computer system, but if you really do insist on focusing her on her smarts, do some research. no to mention. pidge may be the youngest, but she really is more than science and calculations. shes intelligent yes, but she can hold her own in battle (at the age range of 15-17 with no prior battle training), shes afraid of the possible reality that all her efforts are wasted and Matt and Sam are dead, she is actually pretty social with the paladins (she can even be seen hanging out in the kitchen while hunk makes glass cookies.) and beyond her intelligence, shes wise. shes not just random science facts, she knows how to hold her own in situations outside of battle and books. shes street smart. 

       “lone wolf keith”

now i know this was said to allura, and ill get to that. but if the keith vlog showed us anything, its that  hes not just a moody loner teenager.  i am very guilty of this myself. i portray keith as a human disaster. we don’t know hen he was left alone, we don’t really know much of his story. i head canon that his dad left him to fend for himself but every month woul drop off food or money or something. i head canon hes terrible about taking care of his body. but at least i don’t call him moody and move on.  i give him a background to fill in the blank space, but sometimes i forget and focus too much on his folded arms and  pouty face. he smiles. he laughs. hes an actual precious bean.  but hes also afraid of being pushed away. hes guarded and does his best to be strong. he hides his feelings and protects his heart with everything he has. (geez boi who hurt you). he is not the human embodiment of “teenagers” by mcr. aka he has feelings too. not to mention he also got into the garrison, and was the top pilot regardless of how he got in, if it happened to be by recommendation like most people think. 

      “humourous hunk”

as a hunk stan this one annoys me the most. throughout the episode hunk is consistently embarrassed, and even protests the fart noises, fart jokes, etc. he is purposely tripped for laughs. the fandom forgets that hes not just the fat funny guy, or just the personal chef. hes overcome so much since babies first lion flight, he used to get sick, constantly had to be the voice of reason to keep his teammates out of trouble,  he is just as intelligent as pidge and is actually one of the only people that can keep up with her science stuff. keith and lance even stated that they didnt understand anything they’d said. hes a fantastic engineer even if he had a few tummy mishaps. hes an amazing pilot too, and extremely sassy. he and pidge probably rigged the game console to work in space, And hes pretty friendly and cautious. he is NOT meant to be the comic relief. (say it louder for people in the back)

     “shiro the hero”

a lot of the fandom has taken to calling shiro daddy, sexualizing him (”now put on this tight shirt”) and focusing on shiro and only shiro (shiros the “favorite character” of corans little show). hes great. he really is. and the man needs a break. voltron is a kids show. he isnt meant to  be sexualized, none of them are. hes more than his arms and his leadership abilities. the biggest issue i have with the whole shiro thing. regardless of if hes a clone, when shiro returned he cut his hair differently, and wore short sleeves. everyone i know, including me, said they’d be fine with the clone if he had kept his hair long and “as much as i love the arm view” and didnt change his outfit. its a kid show. his body shouldn’t matter.i am also guilty of this, and ep 4 opened my eyes to it. coran lifted shiros arm as if to prove that thats what the audience really wanted. he treats shiro differently bc hes the real star here and everyone should know it. ofc, hes the black paladin. (i wonder where the whole “the black paladin is the only one who really matters here” mindset came from. looking @ u ‘84). shiros may have ptsd, and hes constantly trying to hold himself together for his team, and its obviously not easy. maybe thats why hes got a cute white floof. the stress. 

      alluras erasure  

another point that always bugged me. the fandom either forgets allura exists, or that she is just stealing lances place temporarily. Allura is the blue paladin. while keith is gone, she is not filling in. shes a paladin now too. for coran to call her keith, and constantly call her keith, even though she obviously has a few choice words to say about it, its distrespectful. she says his plan is working and he replies with “why thank you keith…i like to keep you in character” once again, erasing her existence. now im not as well versed in this particular topic, but id like you to keep in mind that he talks to his princess with that mouth, and that she IS the princess and not a fill in while keith leads. feel free to elaborate on this more. 

     coran “fires “ team voltron. 

this. i find extremely entertaining. remember that legal trouble last year bc of the leaks? and right around that time the klance shipper started threatening them if they didn’t make it gayer and put keith and lance together? the  fandom, who wanted all of this to happen their way, were threatening to get it cancelled and such just because things didnt go their way. shiro, the leader, disagreed with coran and tries to shut him down. and coran in fit of rage says:

you’re a bunch of quitters! quitters! i’m a visionary! i have thoughts, ideas, i dont need you anyway. ill rewrite the show, get rid of the whole lot of you, replace you with new paladins! and the show will be better than ever before!…except for you shiro, ill never get rid of you, you’re our most popular character!

this is essentially what the fandom was saying. now, was this definitely their plan, to call us out with this bit, in not sure, but honestly, its almost too coincidental.

the writers have made it clear that they heard us, and have always been listening. and really, thats why i love ep4. you’re angry because you know you got called out but haven’t admitted it to yourself. the writers do their best to bring us the best show possible, but they cant satisfy everyone. why cant we just be happy about Actual Meme ™ Matt, and look forward to season five instead of fighting them because we got our shit handed right back to us. weve gotten a  taste of our own medicine, so chill. i enjoy them keeping us on our toes, surprising us with every turn, theyre great writers.who cares if one or two things pissed you off? we both know youre not gonna stop watching.

answering asks!

ok ive been gettin a lot more asks lately i think ?? n i try to answer just abt all of them but im prob gonna have to cut back a tiny bit. if ur question wasnt answered, check to see if its answered in the faq or in previous answer batches! thank

Keep reading

Dangerously in love (part i)

Amour, Affluence, and Ammo

Author’s Note: Literally been working on this forever and I’m in love with the concept so I hope you guys like it too. Was gonna post this later but ehhh I’m impatient. This is a mafia!au because if you guys didn’t know I pretty much made my Tumblr account because of @spidereyhes courtesy of thirsty Thursday. I was the og mafia tom anon and tbh love the concept so I started an account and decided maybe I should use some of the many ideas I have instead of continuously bothering her. Also huge ass shoutout to @dusktillholland because holy shit Abby has helped me like every step of this process and let me bounce off ideas and helped me come up with ideas and I think throughout the story there will be lines that are the ones she messaged me because they’re literally so good. She is a fucking saint and pretty much knows how this story is gonna go (plus some twists and additions) and is just straight up awesome so check her out. I hope you guys really enjoy this or even if you don’t give me some suggestions on how to improve it. I accept good, bad, meh feedback and love the support you guys give. I feel so tacky asking for this but like please reblog or like comment/mail/message me because seriously I want to hear what you guys think because this AU means a lot to me. I especially want to hear what you guys think about Layla. So yeah, I hope you love it as much as me. (P.S. the first chunk of writing takes place in the past and then after that it’s present day).


Part ii

Word Count: 5216

Warnings: Crime, violence, sexualness, swearing, probably other things

Taglist: @tbholland @stephie-senpai @cersei-lannister @i-love-superhero @chinalois @behxndthemask @ttholland @johnmurphys-sass @harperislit @curlshawnholland @theharrisontomytom

Other Taglist: @fufaation15

Footsteps echoed through a guarded hallway. At the center a women in a pastel yellow prison jumpsuit with the number 00098221 across the back along with the name of the correctional center. Her wrists and ankles bound tightly. She was an interesting beauty, with a dark aura and elegance shrouding her. Her hair was braided out of her face, courtesy of her cellmate. Her eyes glanced around the hallway watching all that was going on. She locked eyes with a girl maybe around 19 sniveling, tears streaming down her eyes. Pathetic. They were going to eat her up in there. But there wasn’t anything Layla could do. The guard accompanying her took her to a desk guarded behind glass. 

“Layla Y/L/N, correct?” The officer said. Layla nodded peering over the desk. She subconsciously played with the chains binding her wrists together. The bracelets were the only accessory she had for a while, maybe she’d miss them. The officer behind the desk disappeared into the office before returning with a bag labeled 00098221 accompanied by a mugshot. The prisoner allowed a small smile to pull on her lips. Probably her best one yet. She was never a fan of pictures but figured she might as well put on a show if anyone could see it.

The current officer holding onto her led her to the same room she’d been frisked down in when originally taken in. Other women were in a similar situation than her. Oh, how she remembered that day. She used to fight up but at this point knew the routine all too well. She laughed quietly watching one person sit on the floor and pout. ‘Oh honey that won’t get you anywhere’ She thought. Her hands were uncuffed first and then her feet. She stripped out of the ill-fitting jumpsuit as well as stripping off the provided underwear and bra. She opened her back and pulled out her original booking outfit, just as she remembered. A Tommy Hilfiger bandeau top, windbreaker, jeans, sunglasses, and her jewelry. She put on her clothes before grabbing her wedding ring. She kissed the gem in the middle before slipping it onto her finger. Lastly, she finished off with a necklace.

“All done,” She alerted her guard. He nodded and led her back to the desk. She was free, well she had to do some paperwork but she could finally leave this hellhole. The words the front desk women were saying went in one ear and out the ear, as Layla’s fingers quickly worked to sign everything.  

“That’s all Mrs. Y/L/N. We hope to not see you back here,” The front desk lady joked. Layla forced out a fake laugh.

“Of course not, I think I learned my lesson,” She smiled. Her guarding officer led her to the room she remembered as the visiting room and gestured she could go free. Her eyes scanned the room until she landed on exactly who she was looking for. It took all of her not to run up to him, but she had an image to uphold. She sauntered across the room and tapped the man on the shoulder. He turned and a large smile graced his face.

“Excuse me, were you in prison or a spa?” The man chuckled taking in her appearance. 

“Mmm I do feel quite relaxed,” She smiled. She leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. He moved to deepen the kiss but she blocked his lips with a finger. “Later darling.”

A coo caught Layla’s attention and she peered down. A bouncing baby girl sat before her. Tiny, chubby, and most importantly her’s. She picked up the angel and pulled her closer into her arms shutting her eyes for a moment. It was the first time she could actually hold her, hug her, all those things she couldn’t do for months. 

“I hope you remember mommy,” Layla cooed, holding onto her child like she was going to disappear from her arms. The baby was small, no more than three months old but she was bigger than her mother had wanted. Her mom still wanted that infant, that she only saw for brief moments before she was whisked away and left in a cold hospital room chained to a bed next to an officer who had a gun on his hip not trusting her after her mid-labor outburst. Her birthing moment was stripped away from her, a majority of her pregnancy spent in a cell having to figure out if this slop was even good for her baby girl. She got fucked over and while she appeared calm, cool and collected, make no mistake the woman was fuming. “Let’s get the fuck out of here,” She said coldly.

“Language, Layla,” Her husband quipped. She rolled her eyes. 

“She can’t understand yet Julian don’t worry. And honestly with us as her parents it’s a miracle if her first word doesn’t end up being cunt,” She said holding her baby girl to her chest. Julian sighed but nodded knowing how she could get. She had been in a cell for months, so he couldn’t really judge her behavior. The small family walked out of the correctional facility and down to the man’s Mercedes. Layla slid on her sunglasses to protect against the suns rays and pulled her daughter closer to her chest, to provide warmth. “It’s freezing outside, I bought her all those coats and all she has on is a thin hoodie.”

“Because she’s just as stubborn as you are, she cried every time I put it on and after wrestling with her for maybe 30 minutes I said screw it and sped over here because I knew you wouldn’t want to be left waiting.”

“Well, I am her mother so she’s going to be strong-willed. You probably just didn’t put it on correctly,” She dismissed. The man rolled his eyes but chose not to argue with his tense wife. He had seemed her a couple of times, behind glass. He never told her about their child. The prisoner couldn’t bear to hear about the baby girl growing up without her. He watched as his gorgeous wife sat in a dank room across from him, attempting to hold it together. She was strong but the life was draining from her every moment she spent in there. The mischevious light flickered from her eyes and her skin seemed to lose its luster. His wife was a free spirit and to see her chained down hurt him inside too. He glanced at the love of his life and saw that the life was already returning to her form, she radiated the same power she did walking into the prison telling him not to worry because she’d ‘make it her bitch.” She did exactly that but even though no one dared to fuck with her she was still miserable. To him she was a goddess and seeing her brought down by mortals was sickening.

Layla took a spot in the backseat so she could keep her eyes on her baby while the little one sat in a car seat. As soon as the baby was buckled in they drifted off to sleep.

The car ride home was quiet. Only the radio in the background added to the atmosphere as they made their way down the roads. Layla requested to make a quick pitstop at a gas station. She swung the doors open of the cheap venue and went over to the cashiers stand, tipping her sunglasses.

“Never thought I’d see you again,” A giddy blonde woman said. Layla shrugged, while she wasn’t happy about the situation she got lucky. She was only charged with one crime, not the multiple she’d racked up.

“Yeah well, you know I don’t do well with being caged,” The newly freed woman mused. There was a tension in the air.

“Look, Layla, I know we made a pact but I couldn’t leave my parents for so long and you’ve just always been fearle-”

“So it was okay for me to take the fall for your mistake, yeah I get it,” Layla cut her off.

“Well you’ve always been so fearless and they were pressuring me so I just-”

“I didn’t come here to play nice Gia.”

“I didn’t betray you! I got punished too.”

“Oh you spent a month in a county jail, picked up some trash, and have to wear that ankle bracelet. Gia I had to give birth in handcuffs, I haven’t seen my child. I’ve always had your back and the one time I needed you to take the fall for me you decided to be selfish. I don’t want to hear it.”

Gia quickly shut up and nodded. “I owe you one.”

“You owe me many, I’ll just add this to the fucking list,” She spat. She glanced over her shoulder at her husband in the car. “Let’s just speed this up.”

The backstabber got from behind her post and went to the storage room. Sitting on the floor were two duffel bags. Layla scooped them up and strutted out of the store without another word. She dumped the mysterious bags in the truck before reclaiming her seat.

“And that was about?” Her husband asked.

“In due time.” They had a lot to talk about. Prisons didn’t really allow for the privacy that one’s in their lines of work needed. Another hour got them to a quiet house out in the woods.

“Welcome home Queen,” Julian said helping her and the baby out of the car. Layla felt like she was in a fantasy. 

“You actually did it?”

“Well I’ve been working on it for a while, I wanted it to be a surprise.”

She pulled him into a passionate kiss, grabbing at his face to pull him closer. Ever since they officially started dating they wanted to build their own house away from everyone. That way they could have their privacy and not have to worry about their reputations. He made that come true.

“It’s amazing,” She mused, making him laugh.

“You haven’t even seen the inside yet,” He said carrying the baby carrier in one hand and grasping onto his wife’s hand with the other. She grabbed her duffel bags, slinging them over her shoulder and unlocking the door. 

Just like her dreams. A cozy little home for them to live in. She dropped her bags down and locked the door. 

“Maybe I should go away more often you get really productive,” She teased, sitting on the couch. Julian rolled his eyes and sat next to her, putting an arm around her shoulders.

“We have much to discuss,” He said.

“Do we? There’s not much to miss,” She trailed off. He sighed.

“Layla, I want you to stop being in the business,” He blurted. Her eyes bugged out of her head and she stood up.

“Are you fucking insane?” She demanded.

“Lower your voice, she’s asleep. And no I haven’t. She needs a mother, I can’t do this without you.”

“Then you would need to quit too because I can’t do this without you.”

“Layla, your team is different than mine. That girl sold you out. She made you seem like a monster if you hadn’t taken a plea you would have been gone for god knows how long.”

“Julian, I am done with her and working with people for good.”

Layla preferred being a lone wolf in the first place, but when an old friend came to her for help that tiny heart Layla claims she doesn’t have gave in. She should have known not to trust the clumsy and spineless girl. When they were younger she snitched on one of their other friends for shoplifting. But she felt like being giving and helping her friend steal from a wealthy douchebag.

The plan went perfectly until blabbermouth left a glove with her fingerprints. In interrogation, she folded and spun a tale about how Layla forced her into stealing from the guy just to save her ass.

But that was the past now and there was no way she’d go in doing business with anyone ever again.

“Darling, it’s dangerous. Why can’t you just let me handle finances?”

“Because I’m not a quitter alright,” She said.

“It’s not quitting it’s being smart.”

“Julian, I love you with that thing in my chest that I may or may not have, people call a heart. And I know you love me with that big heart you have, but I’m going to do this and I’m going to keep working until I’m the best.”

“And if you end up in prison again?”

“Well next time I won’t be pregnant so I’ll have no qualms about escaping. You know I’m smart and more than capable. I’ll let you be a big boss and I’ll be my own boss,” She said gently caressing his face. He weakened at her touch and nodded.

“It’s not like I could stop you anyway.”

“That’s the spirit, besides you should be happy with me.” She waltzed over to the bags and unzipped them to reveal bundles and bundles of cash. “At least the dumbass could hide it until I come out.”

“Guess she’s not completely useless.”

“And this money is going to be saved for my baby girl.” She picked up the sleeping infant, cradling her close. “She’s going to have everything in the world that her mommy can get her hands on. She’s going to be so spoiled because she’s a little princess. I love you my darling Y/N, you’ll be as badass as mommy one day and there will be hell if anyone takes you away from me again. Isn’t that right?”

A glossy black Rolls Royce sat in front of an illustrious hotel. The man sat in the back of his car scrolling through his phone. He wore a fitted black suit, hugging against his muscular frame. His brown hair gelled perfectly back and his lips looked soft. His demeanor exuded power. Underneath his eyes appeared soft and puffy showing that he probably ran low on sleep. Looking down at his Rolex, he checked the time. 12:50, asshole’s late again

The door to the car swung open and a man dressed in a tight black t-shirt and jeans got in the back. His casual attire contrasted against the lux creme leather seats. His hair tousled just the right way, giving him a rebellious carefree look.

The man who owned the car glanced up at him unamused. “You’re the only person who dares leave me waiting.”

The other man held a wicked grin. “That’s because I’m your best friend. Also, I always come bearing good news.” 

“The good news being what Haz?” The boss said fixing a stray strand of hair. He still appeared annoyed, but he slightly softened up.

“We found him, Tom. He has a place out of the city,” Haz said enthusiastically. 

“Let’s take a trip then.”

Y/N’s eyes glanced down at her gold watch. The audacity of this professor to actually lecture for the whole hour and a half period. She tapped a pen against her journal. There were doodles displayed on the pages like most college students, except it didn’t contain the normal hearts and flowers. 

Lines and figures, scattered across multiple pages showing floorplans. Everything was detailed showing every entrance, exit, and security post.

Slowly, students began zipping up their backpacks and rising from their seats. Y/N slammed her notebook shut and tucked it into her backpack. Leaving the stuffy lecture hall and walking out into the clean air, helped clear her senses. Finally, her weekend was getting started at a prompt 1:30 on a Friday afternoon. A quick 10-minute walk took her to a large parking lot, where she waited by a silver Mercedes. 

Y/N zipped up her leather jacket, feeling colder the longer she had to wait out here. Where was she? She’s never been good with time management. Before, she found herself getting upset tall heels clicked against the pavement, making Y/N glance up.

“Sorry, I’m late. I was politely debating my last test grade,” A tall Puerto Rican girl wearing a trench coat and thigh high boots said coming up and unlocked her pristine car. She popped the trunk, dumping in her backpack and allowing her friend to do the same, before slamming it shut.

“I’m sure it was very polite Ms. Future Lawyer,” Y/N teased getting into the passenger’s seat.

Her friend giggled, getting into the driver’s seat. She whipped out of her parking space, almost hitting someone else. 

“Isabel!” Y/N screeched, as her friend meekly attempted to drive off after the almost accident.

“Sorry sorry sorry,” Isabel said, knowing how jumpy Y/N could get. She made sure to stay extra focused until she was able to get on the highway. “What are your plans for the weekend?”

“Just spending time with family, working on assignments. I have some essays and tests and projects, you know the usual.” Her response earned a groan from Isabel.

“You’re so boring, we can go shopping or off to brunch. We can go clubbing or do something. C’mon…”

“No, Isa. I’m swamped.”

Isa pouted, knowing her friend had a stubborn tendency that wouldn’t be budged. The rest of the ride consisted of small talk about classes. Y/N talked about her classical literature lecture and Isa went on about her chemistry lab. They took this ride every day since both girls preferred staying home with their families instead of in a dank depressing dormitory. 

“I believe this is your stop, don’t forget to give me 5 stars on Uber,” Isabel giggled, pulling to her usual stop in front of a beautiful red house. 

“Thanks, girl, see you Monday,” Y/N said, grabbing her backpack and walking into the driveway. Isabel made sure her friend was safely inside the gate, before pulling away and driving to her own home minutes away.

Y/N waited a few moments before quietly making her way across the sides of the house, and jumping over the back gate. Her landing was sly, almost catlike in her pose as she hit the ground. 

The wooded area she now found herself in was thick, piles and piles of colorful leaves that reached her knees. Trudging through the noisy mess, she drifted further and further away from the beautiful neighborhoods and crowded roads. A smile graced her lips when she finally saw a moderately sized stone cottage style home. Ivy began to curl up the walls of the home, giving it a dreamy whimsical charm. Something stopped the smile on her face though when she noticed a barrage of expensive black cars in front of the home.

Oh shit.

On the interior of the cozy home was a soft scene. Tom sat by a toasty fireplace, taking in the warmth. He shut his eyes, appreciating the peaceful moment. He hummed contently for a few moments.

“Boss, he isn’t giving up,” A voice said cutting off his moment of meditation. Tom sighed and turned around seeing two of his workers, drag in the man who dared cross him. The man was an older gentleman, but in exceptionally good shape for his age. One of the workers kicked him in the shins and forced him to his knees allowing Tom to tower over him. The younger man had changed clothes from his normal dapper suit to a tight fitted black turtleneck, black jeans, and boots.

“You’re a smart man Julian, I’ll give you that. Just not smart enough for me,” Tom said pacing in front of the defeated man. “You know you should really work on the people you hire. Really need to strike fear into their hearts. If I ever doubted one of these guys would cross me, they’d be gone.” He took a pause as he noticed his men were now uneasy. “Your wife gets that Julian, but not you and it’s a shame. It really is. Because now you’re stuck in this situation all because of a few rats in your crew.”

Julian licked his now busted open lips. The metallic taste of blood dug into his taste buds. He made sure to keep eye contact with the younger man, not letting him show submission. The kid was cocky and he’d be damned if he let some pretty boy on a power trip be his downfall after years of working in this business. 

“I like Layla, Julian, hence why I’ve decided to leave her out of this proceeding,” Tom continued.

“You leave her out because you know you don’t have a chance against the both of us,” Julian spat, which was quickly met by one of Tom’s goons kicking him in the stomach.

“Keep interrupting and see what happens,” Tom warned. “As I was saying let’s keep this man to man. I want my fucking money, Julian.” Silence filled the air. “That was me allowing you to speak.”

“Now why would I give you the satisfaction?” Julian said in a tone one takes when talking to a child. Condescending with an air of false friendliness. 

“Ooh, so you’re not going to deny that you’ve stolen from me. I appreciate the honesty,” Tom mocked. “Now where is it?”

“Well that’s the question, isn’t it. If you’re as smart as you claim to be there should be no problem with you finding it yourself.”

Y/N cautiously maneuvered around her house, making sure not to be seen. She army crawled until she got to the back entrance. Quietly, she wiggled her key in the lock, cracked the door open slightly and crawled into the kitchen. She softly shut the door and decided to hide in the cabinet under the sink. Voices danced from the living room.

“No, no, no I don’t play games. I’m in control here and you’re at my mercy. So don’t make me ask again,” An unfamiliar voice said. Y/N looked puzzled attempting to place the posh accent hurling threats. 

“I’m not scared of some 20-something year old who had this business gifted to him on a silver platter,” A recognizable voice said. Dad. Y/N now felt her heart beating out of her chest. Her dad was outnumbered and at the mercy of someone who didn’t seem amused. She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out her phone to call her mom. Normally she wasn’t the type to bug her mother while out on a mission (especially one as extensive and risky she was on that required her to be gone for months), but this was an emergency. Accidently Y/N put the call on speaker, making the phone ring loudly. She fumbled around, quickly turning the phone off and curling up, praying to God no one heard.

Time stood still, her breath felt caught in her chest as the cabinet door swung open. She gasped as large hands pulled her out of her hiding spot and roughly bringing her to her feet. Her eyes met dreamy chocolate brown ones which she would normally have appreciated, had he not had a monster grip on her wrist. 

“And there’s the princess…” He teased. It was the same voice she wasn’t able to recognize. He held her wrists tightly with one hand, while the other picked up the phone and looked at who she attempted to call. “No need to bring mommy dearest into this now is there?”

Words didn’t form in Y/N’s mouth, her only response was to attempt to push out of the man’s hands. She pulled and wiggled and wrestled. He turned out to be much stronger than her, flexing as his grip remained firm.

“Careful princess, I wouldn’t act up if I was you,” He taunted, dragging her into the living room. She grunted, still trying to free herself but was placed next to her father forced to her knees. Julian resisted the urge to hang his head in shame at the fact he couldn’t even protect his own daughter.

One of the workers pulled out a rope and tightly bound her hands together. Tom threw his head back in laughter. This was rich. “Things have gotten interesting now haven’t they. Julian, I’d barely believe she was yours, thankfully she has her mother’s good looks.”

Julian stayed silent, licking his lips again trying not to seem nervous. Tom sauntered over towards the two, pulling out a switchblade and pressing a button to reveal the shiny chrome. He hovered sharp metal near Y/N’s face, him ghosting movement less than a centimeter from her skin.

“Does the pretty pretty princess have anything to tell us?” He teased.

“She’s not in the business,” Her father spat. The blade drew closer and closer, threatening to slice through her soft supple skin. “It’s hidden in an account,” He spit out. 

“Where’s the account?” Tom demanded not moving an inch. He could feel her shaky warm breath. 

“The account…it’s under Y/N’s name…at Wellington,” Julian admitted defeat. Tom removed the knife, putting it back in his pocket. Y/N stared at her father with hurt in her eyes. Why was he dragging her into this mess? He had always been so hellbent on keeping her away and now he funneled stolen funds through her name, knowing they could be traced by enemies. He opened his mouth to say something, but Y/N was brought back to her feet with a rough tug. 

“We have a trip to make don’t we darling,” Tom said, removing the rope from her hands. Her wrists still tender from the tight bondage. 

“Don’t you dare hurt her.”

“I’m not going to do anything, just taking her on a little joy ride. Boys get him to text me the specific account information, Harrison you’re in charge until I come back,” Tom ordered holding her wrists in his hands. He strutted out of the house, taking her to his Rolls Royce. The driver opened the door allowing Tom and Y/N into the backseat and locking the door, figuring this wasn’t going to be a joyous ride.

The entire ride Y/N felt her hands shaking, stuck in the car with some guy who despised her father with a passion. The ride was silent, minus the noises expected when being on the road.

The driver promptly stopped the car in front of the bank in question. Y/N knew Wellington banking relatively well considering the fact her father had chosen to hit it up a few years ago.

“You’re going to go in there and ask them what’s the maximum you can withdraw, but take less than the maximum so it’s not suspicious and then come back,” Tom instructed. He then handed her his phone which had the account information on it. Y/N nodded, getting out of the car. She debated on making a run for it, but it was pointless since Tom now knew where she lived. How did he even find them? Her parents were so careful about keeping everything secret. She walked into the large bank, fiddling with her leather jacket.

The line was relatively brief for a Friday afternoon. She forced a smile, getting to the front of the line. The teller seemed friendly enough.

“Hi, I need to make a withdrawal,” Y/N said before rambling off her account information.  

“Wow, someone’s a good saver,” The teller smiled looking at the amount in the account. “How much do you need?”

“Like 4,000,” Y/N threw out a random number. “It’s for my rent, it’s a super nice apartment,” She quickly added. 

The teller nodded, completing the transaction. “Have a nice day.”

“Random question, what’s the maximum withdrawal?” Y/N asked as she took the sealed envelope and tucked it into her jacket pocket. She had half a mind to stash 1 thousand but decided today wasn’t the best day to attempt to push her luck. 

“5,000,” The teller said nonchalantly. “Have a nice day ma’am.”

“You too.” With that Y/N quickly walked out of the bank and got back into the Rolls Royce. She handed Tom the cash and his phone.

“See princess that wasn’t that hard now was it,” He said thumbing through the bands and counting. “Okay, this is 4,000. What’s the max?”

“5,000 a day but doing withdrawals every day is suspicious,” Y/N said quietly. Tom groaned, leaning back into the plush leather seats.

“This is going to take forever,” He grunted. 

“How much is in there?” She asked.

“300,000. Your dad stole 300,000 from me and put it in a fucking account,” He said frustrated. 

“Only 300k? You can’t tell me you’re upset about that much,” She scoffed, feeling a burst of courage. That’s a small amount for her dad in terms of missions. 

“It’s about the principle of the thing princess. No one steals from me and gets away with it.” His hand remained on the cash as if it was going to disappear. 

“And what’s so special about you?” She challenged in a huff. The driver shifted in his seat, rolling the partition up not wanting to be a part of this. He drove Mr. Holland around enough to know it was best to stay out of his business. Tom chuckled, placing a hand on Y/N’s thigh giving it a firm squeeze.

“So many things princess, so many things.”

Tom kept his promise and returned Y/N in one piece, not like he had much of a choice considering she held control over his funds. She ran to her bedroom, trying to take in all that was happening. That left Tom alone with Julian and a couple of security guards. 

“I must say I appreciate you introducing us,” Tom said with the click of the tongue. He knew the man prized his family so this would just drive him up the wall. The father bit his tongue considering he was still heavily outnumbered. “I look forward to seeing her all the time until I get my money back.”

Julian kept his mouth shut as Tom and his men began to file out of the hidden home. “Watch yourself Holland,” The older said to the younger. Tom chuckled, leaving the home and slamming the door behind him.

The father now left in his living room, rubbed his temples. What the hell have I done? Holy shit Layla is going to kill me.

Captain’s Colours

ANON: “Can you write something about a human on a ship with aliens and they are all really confused by why she wears makeup/does things to alter her appearance? Or recommend one? Thanks”

Well, I tried my hand at writing a small story for this anon! I’m not quite sure of the quality, but I hope you like it! If you know of any stories involving aliens and makeup, please reblog this and link them!

There were only two human crewmembers of the Explorer, and both of them were women. The rest of the crew, save for Vi, had never met a human before applying to join the Captain on her maiden voyage to the furthest reaches of space (Or rather, that one really good restaurant a few planets over, as their first stop turned out to be). As such, human traditions were quite the mystery, and one many of the crew wished to unravel.

Captain Amelie, a tall, adventurous human with very little understanding of the phrase ‘patience’, was the resident curiosity, for lack of a better phrase. Rita, the resident engineer, was persistent in her day-to-day routine, down to the minute, and her appearance was just one of the things that could be relied on to stay the same every day. Captain Amelie, however, seemed one big, rainbow-coloured ball of spontaneity.

Keep reading


Okay, so someone linked this article to me tonight, and I’m just. So thoroughly disgusted currently. I don’t know who this guy is, the article says “Tituss” from  Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt.

Here’s the thing. I keep peafowl. Have for years. At this point, I can read peacock body language better than I read most human body language. And that bird? That bird is very uncomfortable. The harness looks ill fitting, and you can see clearly in the first photo that he is ducking down to try to back out of the harness to escape. In the second photo you can see by the wide set of his legs, the bend of his ankles, and the slightly open wings that he is trying to lie down and is being held up by the harness (which, again, looks ill fitting and uncomfortable). In the third photo, he is again trying to lie down and is only marginally more successful (and still, to me, looks uncomfortable/unhappy by the way he is holding his legs and not actually lying down).

The other thing is that putting a peacock on a leash in a harness is incredibly dangerous and irresponsible. As someone who literally has a pet pea in the house who is probably the tamest pea out there, I can with 100% certainty tell you that I would never, ever put her into a harness or on a leash. I would never endanger her in that manner.

Because peafowl have incredibly powerful legs and wings, and thin, hollow bones. One good flush (the motion of jumping into the air to take flight) while trapped on a leash could result in bruising and even broken bones that would, if nothing else, cost thousands of dollars to repair, if they even can be (repairing bird bones is amazingly difficult and not generally very successful). Peafowl flush with enough power to break their own necks if they flush in an enclosed area- I should know, I lost a girl a few years ago to that very thing during a bad thunder storm, when she spooked right up into the ceiling of her coop.

As if that’s not enough, birds - wild birds, game fowl like peacocks - are 100% capable of stressing out so hard that they go into shock and die. They can literally get so upset it kills them, and being restrained (for example, being walked on a leash in a harness down a city street where there’s a lot of things that ping as DANGER to peafowl) is a definite stressor.

I don’t watch this show. I don’t know this person. I don’t have any more information than what I can very clearly see in these photos about what is going on, but it makes me ill to see. This man clearly has no repertoire with this bird- it wants out and away, and should NOT have been made to do this.

And I want to be clear- I am not against folks owning peafowl as pets. I’m against people putting peafowl through situations in which they are unhappy and uncomfortable.

This lady? This lady is doing it right- peacock perched on her arm, and the bird is clearly relaxed and comfortable riding around with her and sitting near her. I cannot tell if he’s wearing a harness (if he is, it fits well and comfortably and the line attaches under the bird’s breastbone instead of on their back) or if she has leg tethers (seems more likely) like a falconer. Either way, this is a safer, happier bird.

Personal Statement Time

Good Morning All,

I thought I would do a quick write up on personal statements since this is the time of year to start really working on/finishing yours… That and I can’t get to the gym because Safelite is replacing my windshield (damn you tractor trailers). 

What goes in a personal statement?

Yes, this should be a pretty silly question for those of you applying this year, but for those of you who are still very early on in the process, the personal statement is an essay about yourself and why you want to go into medicine. There are hundreds of other careers out there, many of which are far less stressful and generate far more income, so you had better come up with a good reason why you would like to become a doctor. 

What if I can’t really put my finger on it? What if I just know I want to help people?

Well, I wish I could say thats fine… but its not. When I started the process, I knew I wanted to be a doctor, but I couldn’t quite say why. Truth was, I had a lot of experiences contributing to my decision, and without ever really sitting down to think about it, none jumped out at me. In reality 99.9 percent of human beings want to help other people. Its why you hear your friends in their late 20’s who are not in medicine saying things like “I just really want to find a job where I can make a difference”. People naturally feel good when they make someone else feel good and as a result, you can’t exactly write a personal statement about your general feelings. The question that got my mind thinking was this “If you want to help people, why don’t you be a ____? insert "cop” “firemen” “guidance counselor” etc. 

So what do I write about?

Unfortunately, I can’t answer that for you. What I can offer, are some suggestions of where I looked to find the answer. The first being personal health issues. This is a great reason to be interested in medicine. If you have been unfortunate enough to have a recurring or serious health issue, and were inspired by the amazing nurses and doctors you worked with, then talk about it. If that doesn’t quite fit your bill, the next place I would look is shadowing. Pay attention here, if you think about your shadowing and can’t come up with at least one influential experience, you probably need to do more shadowing before further considering medical school. Remember that the admission committees want to make sure your really really certain that medicine is the life for you. That means shadowing a lot to see what it’s like first hand. This category will apply to many of you looking to write your statements(its ultimately what I used). Remember to keep reading though because if you just write about shadowing, I promise you will not get in. Lastly, there is caring for a family member. I urge you to use caution on this one. I am passing no judgement on this but it would seem that everyone has had an ill grandmother or grandfather that they assisted, and I get the vibe that the ADCOM’s get lots of statements about this. Thats NOT to say that if this is really why you want to be a doctor, you shouldn’t write it, I’m just merely warning you that it had better be pretty damn convincing with the popularity of that topic. OHHH, the real last I suppose would be writing about an underserved medical experience. If you are lucky enough to have a meaningful one of these… god bless you. I still don’t fully understand the absurd overemphasis on underserved medicine, but it appears to be the golden ticket. Excuse my bitterness on the topic but it is beyond frustrating to live in an area that has few if any underserved populations, acquire numerous great healthcare experiences that are in “well served” populations, and then be penalized on your applications for not having “meaningful underserved experience”. If this was made quite clear to me as a freshman that I needed to seek out underserved opportunities, and that all of my “well served” experiences would be cast aside, I wouldn’t be complaining, but anyway… I digress.

So I have an idea of my topic now, what do I need to put in this statement?

Your personal statement should be exciting but not corny, and above all, honest. This is your chance to show the ADCOM that you can capture their attention by being unique and genuine. Include info about your discovery of medicine and your interests, then incorporate your topic from above. It should ideally flow chronologically while being clear and concise. Generally, you want to shoot for a page or two, but NO MORE than two (single spaced, word count is on AAMC’s site). Remember, these committees read thousands of these, so yours should be memorable, but most of all, it should be you. Yes, what I’m saying write this yourself. Under no circumstances should you be considering hiring someone to write your essay. Proofreading and editing, yes, thats a great thing to have someone else do, but writing, absolutely not. 

What did I personally write about?

While I would love to post my personal statement for you all to read, it would put too much of a connection between me and this blog. That and I’m not sure the legality of doing so, and then having someone inevitably steal it and use it (none of you…but googlers). So I will have to describe what I did: I started with the portrayal of myself, the attending, and the patients family standing in a room, all of us surrounding a horribly ill neonate. I conveyed my desire to be there for not only the patient, but also the family. This was essentially my hook into medicine as the attending “gave me this patient” to research and present on all week. It was the first time anyone had allowed me to “participate” in healthcare and I loved it. 

Next I jumped back a bit and explained my curiosity for medicine from a young age, and my abnormally early start into pre-hospital medicine at just 16 years old, followed by my quick progression into an EMT. 

I then jumped back to the neonate and further illustrated my experience helping to care for him and describing all that I had learned in the week, but clinically, but also socially. I learned that I had the ability to connect with people in their time of need and I really enjoyed speaking with the family, despite the difficult nature of many conversations. Most of all, I knew I wanted to be there” for the many other sick patients and scared families in the future. 

A simple statement, yes! But did it get the job done, absolutely! These statements aren’t about coming up with the most elaborate, memorable, perfect essay the ADCOM has ever read, but more about making you a human being rather than a small stack of papers on their desk. There is a lyric that I really like, and I think it applies a lot to personal statements in its own way “Cuts on paper hearts can be awful deep”. What I mean is, if you can tug at a string of the ADCOM’s heart and make them believe in you and your desires, then you have succeeded. 

But wait ?!?!

You didn’t include the topic I wanted to write about, or the story I’m using, or the experience I value most etc… Sorry I just had to add this to help address some of the inevitable questions I will receive. Anyway, your right, I have by no means addressed EVERYTHING about writing a personal statement, but what I do feel comfortable saying is that I have covered the general basis of the statement and what should be in it, and what some safe topics are to write about. If you have further questions, or more personal questions, as always, I will be glad to answer them, just shoot me a question on here. Other than that, remember, you want this and its one of your life goals… a silly little essay surly won’t stand in your way :)

Until next time,



HEYYY…so here’s some stuff!

Those of you who’ve never seen my 2011 SVA thesis film “Balancing Act”, go check that out. Super-long-story-short, it’s my “magnum opus” IP that I really wanna do something with someday. Alternatively, it’s that “I made this in Elementary School and created a bunch of characters based on me and my friends and wanted to make my own animu idea that usually goes nowhere and has been in development for 20+ years while I work on other/newer/better ideas” IP. Y’know, one of those. You probably see ‘em on DeviantArt and Tumblr all the fucking time; hence why I don’t really post stuff about it online much these days. That said, posting this art here isn’t a confirmation that something’s happening with it. I’d just stocked up SO many doodles and sketches I felt like putting them out there eventually. Some of these date back as far as 2012 and this isn’t even half of them since I have plenty from various sketchbooks I’ve never scanned.

“What the fuck is this shit, Kirb!?” WELL KIDS, it’s the adventures of self-insert-I-wish-I-was-a-superhero-character and his friends as they go through their trials and tribulations of forming a makeshift superhero team and fight bad guys and learn valuable life lessons about being different, self-acceptance, dealing with deep personal issues and eating healthy or some bullshit. It’s gone through countless re-iterations as I’ve grown and learned and expanded my life views. I want it to be a story that’s really deeply impactful and meaningful, but it’s not something I’m ready to do yet. I need to get better at all aspects of film-making and storytelling. There’s a lot of basic things about “what am I saying?” regarding the story that haven’t been fully fleshed out. Might be years before I ever get to that point; or maybe I never will. Who knows. But once in a while, I’ll draw these four kids and experiment around with shit.

“Frost” (the skinny fuck who looks like ani-’me’) has various blue and white hoodies, is generally awkward (I made him way too “””cool””” in the thesis film; I was emulating Yusuke Urameshi’s sarcastic attitude) and a massive fuck-up (JUST LIKE ACTUAL-ME, HEYYY) and I’ve spent the last year on the story side of things researching a lot about various mental illnesses and how to apply them to him in ways that benefit his development as part of a team he fits into (or not).

“Ilaqua” was previously the character based on (and who looked like) Mike Luckas, that I decided…now I think well over 3 years ago, to change to a girl. I debated back and forth which character to switch (because I wanted two guys and two girls on the main cast) and thought about changing the Earth-elemental guy, but decided to gamble on tossing her in with the many, many Water-elemental girls. (a.k.a. I felt it was easier to differentiate Girl!Mike from the likes of Katara and Korra than seeing Girl!Nick get more-easily compared to Toph.) Mike helped me re-design her (which was also tricky to make sure she wasn’t too similar to Grace Liu’s Enna) and “Mikaela” has become one of my favorite characters to draw.

“Nico” (now re-named in tribute to TwistedGrimTV) is mostly the same. Honestly, getting a hat shape with him that I don’t despise has been my biggest difficulty with him. I also wanna try giving him way more exaggerated anatomy (something like Sajad Gharibi); a body he’d be picked on for having even though he’s not violent at all by nature (he’s actually meant to be more paranoiac and anxious), nor is he “the big dumb one”.

“Kathy” is also mostly the same, but there’s been some minor things I keep trying to fix with her design that I can’t quite get right. I wanted to go more gothic with her choice of fashion, which lent itself to her mysterious demeanor. My biggest aggravation is finding a hair-shape that isn’t a pain in my asshole. It’s evolved a lot from the Rumiko Takahashi-style cut, but I’m still not happy with any particular shape yet.

I also had some help from Mike Luckas and Xander Mobus on trying to design some practical, yet “we have no money or resources to get really efficient ones” superhero costumes. Most of their superhero nicknames (invented by Frost, which the new TMNT beat me to the punch on with Michelangelo’s nicknames for the bad guys, whoops.) are still WIP. Currently I like “Cardice” for Frost and “Landlord” for Mantel. Previously Ilaqua was “Firefighter” and Kathy was “Brightside” but those both may change; they might all change. Hell, ALL of this might change in 15-20-30 years from now if this ever gets made.

On that note, I GREATLY appreciate all the interest in it! I’ve had many folks from time to time ask if I ever plan on doing something more with this concept. It is my every intention to someday; in fact I THINK about it every day. Maybe I’ll do it as a movie, maybe it’ll still be a series like I originally thought, or maybe somehow it’ll be a game or something. Maybe it’ll be none of those things. Maybe it’ll be a hologram projected directly into your brain stem. Who the fuck knows. Here’s a bunch of drawings about it. Enjoy. Or not.

Run! // Jung Hoseok


the prompt: can I have the ‘were best friends and I stole a dragon egg’ au with j-hope? Thanks if you do write it! based on this prompt: “you’ve been my best friend for years, and I can tell you anything, right? good, because I sort of stole a dragon egg.”

words: 1544

category: hogwarts!au + friendship scenario

author note: so i rlly wanted to start a hogwarts series based on namjoon’s sorting (since i disagreed with most of it and it’ll be a challenge) so i thought why not start with hobi? this request seemed to fit perfectly so i took it. also, this is a friendship scenario, not a relationship scenario. it’s my first time writing one but i liked how it turned out. hope you do too.

I’ll probably make a pt 2 eventually (there’s a reason I only made them fifth years) also loOk at the gif wow.

- destinee

Originally posted by bangtannoonas

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Day 6 : Flu (Lance)

YEET i’m back with another fic for @vldwhumpmas2017 !! another college au and i think pre-Klance if you squint hard enough.

“Are you ever going to finish that essay you have? Also, isn’t it due after the Christmas break?” Keith said as he walked into Lance’s room to give him the coffee he had asked for earlier. Lance had been working extremely hard on that one essay for the past week, which brought about sleepless nights, and Keith was finding it to be rather ridiculous. Christmas break was starting in a few days, and everyone around them was already getting festive and ready to pack away for home.

“I need to do well in this. I need to get as close to a perfect score as I can on this. This is the ONLY class I’m good at.” Lance’s eyebrows were furrowed, eyes fixated on his laptop screen as he continuously brainstormed for different ways to convey his ideas even better in his essay.

“Suit yourself..” Keith muttered as he left the cup of coffee on Lance’s desk next to his laptop before promptly leaving the room. Even the air that he was breathing in Lance’s room felt so heavy and stressful.

Fast forward to two days later, Keith finally caught Lance outside his room heating a leftover sandwich from the day before for breakfast before leaving for class. Lance was sniffling and coughing as he shot a small smile at Keith.

“How’s that essay you’ve been endlessly working on?” Keith asked, happy to finally see his dorm mate out of his tiny room and getting some relax time.

“It’s coming together I guess.” Lance replied, voice sounding thick and congested. Keith winced. That did not sound good.

“Do you need something? Medicine? You sound a bit congested.” Keith asked.

Lance shook his head, “It’s nothing. It will be gone by later.”

They both should have known that was not the case, and the night before the break, when everyone had their bags packed and ready to go back home for Christmas, Lance was bed-bound and hacking up a lung.

“Woah, what has happened to you?” Keith commented as he walked into Lance’s room that night, wondering if Lance had already packed his bags to go home or if he was still working on that godforsaken essay.

“I feel terrible..” Lance muttered, blowing his nose into a tissue before a coughing fit had taken over.

“You were probably stressing too much over that essay.” Keith said, grabbing the thermometer from Lance’s bedside drawer, “Aren’t you supposed to go home tomorrow?” Keith said as he sat down on the side of Lance’s bed.

“How in the world am I supposed to go home like this?” Lance sighed. He still was not contented with the essay he had written, and was planning to complete or almost complete it that night, but after his last class for the day he felt like he could do nothing but lie on his bed for the rest of eternity.

“Is anyone picking you up? Your mom?” Keith asked, placing the thermometer in Lance’s mouth. Lance shook his head in response.

The thermometer did not take very long to beep, and when Keith pulled it out of Lance’s mouth, he almost fell off his seat. Lance was burning at 39.4 degrees celsius (103 farenheit).

“Your fever is crazy high. How’s the rest of your body feeling?” Keith asked, wiping off the thermometer with a wet wipe before placing it back in its case.

“Achy. So achy. And so cold. And this entire room is spinning. And my throat hurts so bad. And I can’t stop sneezing or coughing…” Lance croaked before another one of his coughing fits started. Keith cringed at the sound of phlegm in his throat.

“You probably haven’t had any medicine right? Since you’re the most terrible person at taking care of yourself.” Keith said as he got up and left the room to retrieve flu medication for Lance.

Lance swallowed the two pills with much difficulty, “God, that hurt so bad..” Lance croaked as he put a hand to his chest.

“Get some rest. I’ll come back to check on you later.” Keith advised, dimming the lights in Lance’s room and leaving.

Keith came into the room constantly throughout the night, so worried for Lance that he was unable to sleep well. He woke up at two hour intervals, which he spent slipping into Lance’s room and watching over him until he felt tired again.

The next morning, Keith had awakened to violent coughing from Lance’s room followed by a congested groan, indicating Lance had woken up as well and clearly was not feeling any better.

“Your fever is still as high.” Keith said after taking Lance’s temperature.

“I also still feel as terrible.” Lance muttered, rubbing at his nose with a tissue. The waste bin that had been placed at Lance’s bedside by Keith last night was already half-filled with tissues and gross.

Keith quickly left to prepare a cool wet towel for Lance’s forehead, “Have you contacted your parents that you won’t be able to make it home anytime soon?” Lance’s eyes widened in realisation as he shook his head, obviously having forgotten to tell his parents about his sickness. “Do I have to do EVERYTHING for you?” Keith groaned, grabbing Lance’s phone on his study desk.

It was the first time Keith had ever conversed with Lance’s mother, and she was extremely nice over the phone, thanking Keith non-stop for taking care of her (Keith quotes) ‘son that never takes care of himself’. Keith was also invited for Christmas dinner if Lance could recover and return home in time.

“Are you not going home for the holidays?” Lance asked, congestion slightly surpressed after consuming another two pills after breakfast.

“I don’t have a family.” Keith responded, looking down at the floor.

“Oh, sorry. My mind’s a little fuzzy and I forgot.” Lance said, pursing his lips as he stared down at his two layers of sheets, the air in the room suddenly becoming tense.

“Sorry for what? I’ve already gotten used to it years ago. I’m living fine without my parents or anyone else.” Keith smiled, trying to make Lance less awkward about fhe situation. Lance flashed an embarrassed smile back.

When Lance had fallen back asleep, Keith had gone back out to their kitchen to make porridge for Lance to eat for lunch and dinner. He knew how to make it because this recipe was the last thing his grandmother had left him before succumbing to her terminal illness, and since then Keith has made this porridge for himself whenever he was under the weather while living himself. Best porridge he’d ever tasted if he could say so himself.

“This porridge is amazing!” Lance said before choking on his own words, sending him into another coughing fit.

“Don’t talk when you eat your food, damn it.” Keith smiled a little. Lance was the first person to try his grandmother’s recipe other than himself, and he was glad that Lance found it delicious too.

The cycle of sleep, eat, and sleep again continued for the rest of the day.

The next day, Keith was pleasantly surprised to find himself waking up without having to hear any monster sneezes or violent coughing coming from the adjacent room. He went over to check on Lance, and was glad to find that his voice also sounded better and his fever had gone down slightly.

“I’m telling you, your porridge does wonders.” Lance grinned.

“It’s probably the medicine. Now eat your porridge then take your medicine.” Keith ordered.

“Yes mom..” Lance muttered, happily consuming every bite of Keith’s porridge.

By the end of that day, Lance had managed to leave his bed to get himself a glass of water, and even drop by Keith’s room to chat.

“At this rate I’m recovering, we can leave for my house tomorrow!” Lance exclaimed, but had unexpectedly contradicted himself when he flew into a coughing fit right after, causing an eruption of laughter from Keith.

“Yes, totally, phlegm boy. Now go back to your bed and rest.” Keith advised. Lance sighed, taking his advice, and left.

Later that night, Keith had gone to Lance’s room once again to check if he was asleep and doing okay, but instead found Lance at his table, yet again staring at his essay and picking at every tiny mistake. Keith sighed, slamming the laptop shut and sitting on Lance’s study table.

“I just started! And I’m feeling so great? I’m bored!” Lance shouted indignantly.

“Not until you’re fully recovered! Last time I checked, you still had a fever.” Keith chided lightly.

“Just another like, ten minutes? Please? I have things I have to correct..” Lance begged, even attempting puppy eyes, trying his very best to get Keith to let him continue.

“Goodness me, are those puppy eyes?? They’re terrible.” Keith laughed, “back to bed, Mister McClain.”

“Got it..” Lance sighed, getting up from his study chair and going under his covers, silently planning to use his laptop again when Keith leaves.

“Good night, Lance. I’m taking your laptop with me.” Keith smirked, picking it up in his embrace as he dimmed the lights and left Lance’s room.

“NOT FAIR!” He heard Lance shout from the hallway. He knew Lance too well after the year they had spent living together to leave the laptop with Lance.

He kept the laptop in his bedside drawer, locked it with a key and placed the key under his pillow. Lance would never be able to open that.

“Mom! It’s me, Lance! I’m coming home today! Yes, I’m fine now. Yup! Got it Ma. I will stay safe. Yes, Keith is coming with me. See you later! Love you too!” Lance said over the phone as he packed his bags. Earlier that morning, Keith had taken his temperature, which was within normal range now, and had given him the green light to go home and returned Lance his laptop. The two of them were planning to get on a train in the afternoon that headed for his hometown.

Lance had planned to continue with his essay in the train, but when the time came, he realised he was still as lethargic as he was when he was sick and could not bring himself to take his laptop out of his backpack.

“I thought you were planning on finishing up that essay?” Keith teased when he noticed Lance lean back on his chair and close his eyes.

“Shut up, mullet. I’m dead tired..” Lance sighed.

“Considering the way you were screaming earlier in the dorms, of course you are.” Keith smiled, “hey, lean on me.” Lance, surprisingly, did not hesitate to get comfortable on Keith’s shoulder, and had drifted off to sleep real quick.

Before getting off the train, Lance had taken his temperature again one more time. His temperature had risen slightly, hovering between a normal temperature and a slight fever.

“You won’t tell my mother anything, alright?” Lance said, his voice sounding uncomfortably thick again. The two of them knew that his speedy recovery was too good to be true.

“Fine. But if it gets really bad I have no choice.” Keith agreed.

Lance and Keith were greeted with a feast back at Lance’s home for dinner. His siblings and parents were all there to welcome Lance home, and meet Keith for the first time.

“So, Keith confiscated my laptop?? I had such an important paper to complete and he just TOOK IT??” Lance complained, taking a sip of his eldest sister’s home-made fruit punch.

“He had been working on that assignment day and night for the past week, which was no surprise why he had fallen so ill. I had to do it to him.” Keith calmly explained his stance.

“You did great, Keith. My brother never knows how and when to stop.” Lance’s slightly younger sister praised. Lance let out an indignant squawk in response.

“Thanks for taking such good care of Lance. I am so surprised he had gotten over his sickess so quickly!” His mother exclaimed, squeezing Keith’s hand lovingly. He smiled, enjoying the warmth he felt in Lance’s household.

Keith and Lance returned to Lance’s room at night when they were done with dinner and chatting, and Lance immediately plummeted onto his bed face-down in exhaustion.

“I. Am. Exhaused.” Lance groaned. The thickness of his voice that he had hid from his family all night had come back.

“Take your temperature. I’m positive it has gotten higher.” Keith passed Lance the thermometer and the packet of flu medication that he had proudly brought over in case of emergency, which had actually happened.

The beep came not too long after, followed by Lance groaning, “Damn it, it really has…” Lance went to sleep right after taking more medication that night, praying that his fever would miraculously disappear the next day…

Well, it did not, and Lance and Keith were going to visit a flower park that day with Lance mother.

“Oh dear, Lance, why are you sneezing so much?” His mother asked when they had gotten to the park and Lance had resumed his uncontrollable sneezes.

“Allergies? Lots of pollen in the air, you know.” Lance lied.

Never in his life was he allergic to anything.

Remarkably, Lance had managed to pull through that day, secretly taking medication after every meal so as to not worry his family. The two of them retreated to Lance’s room straight after dinner, claiming that they were exhausted from the long day and wanted to rest early.

“I feel so guilty..” Keith muttered, lying down on the bed next to Lance as he handed Lance the thermometer.

“You’re guilty? I’m the one blatantly lying to my own family.” Lance sighed, placing the thermometer under his tongue. He groaned, slamming his face down on his pillow when the thermometer read a high temperature.

“I think it’s time you actually get rest.” Keith advised, taking a look at the temperature reading when Lance handed it back to him, a whopping 38.8 degrees celsius (102 farenheit).

“I think so too..” Lance sighed, popping pills into his mouth and swallowing them, “ah, it hurts to swallow again.”

“Good night.” Keith said as he got up to switch off the lights in the room.

The next day, a loud cheer of happiness erupted from Lance’s room, which shocked the entire household.

“I FEEL ALIVE AGAIN!” Lance shouted, running around the room with the thermometer in his hand, with a wonderfully normal temperature reading.

“THANK GOD!” Keith responded, banging his head on a pillow. It was Christmas Day, and the two of them were so glad that Lance was finally free of sickness.

“Y’all sound so stupid.” Lance’s younger brother stated as he walked past their room, which earned roars of laughter from people both inside and outside the room.


Needless to say, the two of them really enjoyed Christmas to their hearts’ content that day.

Wynonna Earp 2X09 Thoughts and Faves

This week on Wynonna Earp, everything was super fine, there were no creepy dolls or paintings from right out of my nightmares, and all the girlfriends in Purgatory recognized what an amazing, special thing they have together, laying to rest their current conflict before anyone could do anything impulsive and ill-advised…J/K, this week was feelings hell.

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Bushwick's Brittany Snow on Pitch Perfect 3, recovering from self-harm and her new action film

Those who only know Brittany Snow as ditzy Chloe Beale, one of the Barden Bellas in Pitch Perfect, are in for a surprise when they see post-apocalyptic thriller Bushwick, which sees the actress play a college student who turns into an action heroine after the hipster Brooklyn neighbourhood comes under military attack.

Whereas in Pitch Perfect Snow has to play dumb as her character doesn’t want to graduate, in Bushwich playing college student Lucy she is faced with a stark dilemma when she exits a subway station and discovers that New York is under attack from Texans wanted to secede from the United States.

“Lucy is a girl who has to utlise her intelligence and adjust to her surroundings in order to survive,” says Snow. “It poses the question, what would you do in that situation if you had no prior experience of being in a violent atmosphere, would you stand up and try to save others and yourself or would you just lay down? I don’t know what I would do.”

In Bushwick, Lucy does what anyone would want to do when under attack, she teams up with Stupe, played by muscle man Dave Bautista, best known for playing Drax in Guardians of the Galaxy.

As she ventures through Bushwick, she gets attacked form all sorts of people, including locals complaining about gentrification. For the actress, the leading role offered a departure from the type of characters she’s been playing ever since she became a child star appearing in shows such as Guiding Light, American Dreams and later on Nip / Tuck.

“The things that people know me for are more light and fun, I guess, I sing in a lot of things,” says Snow. “But this movie is definitely different to what people have seen before, because I’m shooting guns.”

It forced the 31-year-old to get out of her performing comfort zone, something she admits that she struggled with at first. She says she butted heads with directors Cary Murnion and John Milott over the kitschy tone of the action sequences. “ I wanted to gear towards it being grounded [in realism]. They knew that this needed a heightened element to the action, where it’s also sort of funny, and maintaining that tone and - I hate to call it a B-movie, I can’t because I’m in it – but that sort of genre of film was planned and very specific.”

But we shall soon be seeing her singing again as the third instalment of Pitch Perfect will reach cinemas in time for Christmas. She reveals that Chloe will be even stranger this time out. “I can tell you that I have a love interest this time,” she says tantalisingly. “I think, weirdly enough, that Chloe is even more weird in this movie. They let me do a lot of improvisation and let me do what I really wanted to do, so I just ran with it.”

Just as Bushwick has seemed to hit the zeitgeist with its look at the divisions of society in Trump’s America, Snow argues that Pitch Perfect was the perfect film to tap into the desire for more female empowerment in the movies: “It was definitely lightning in a bottle of so many things that happened simultaneously that had the right synergy with the cast actually getting along rather well and also Pitch Perfect being about letting your differences bring you together.”

She waxes lyrical about the franchise; “It’s about a bunch of misfits and I think us girls work well together because we are so different and people really like to see different types of women, different sizes, different comedy styles and different appearances. It’s refreshing because that’s how the world is, and you don’t get to see that enough in film.”

Born in Tampa, Florida, the actress had her first modelling job at the age of three. Yet she admits that despite the successful start to her career she always felt like an outcast. “I was definitely not a popular person and didn’t go to school,” she says in stark contrast to Chloe who tries everything to stay in school.

“I only went to one year of high school before I moved to LA to do American Dreams, so I was definitely not with a group of friends and I felt like I had to make my own quirky habits and things like that. So I definitely related to Pitch Perfect and I think a lot of girls do, even if they are part of the cool group.”

She was schooled on set, of which she says, “It got very confusing shooting at the same time as doing chemistry. Am I acting, or am I blowing something up in chemistry class?”

Through her teenage years Snow battled with anorexia, depression and self-mutilation. At the age of 12 she began following fad diets. After an intervention by the Guiding Light producers she began eating again, but this led to depression and after she went to work on American Dreams she began cutting herself.

She says of overcoming her anxiety and illness, “I know this is going to sound really cheesy but probably being an example for my nieces and for my friends and for people that have gone through similar things that I have gone through and trying to be strong for them, even though shit gets tough. I think that is maybe some of the most fearless things I’ve done.”

More recently, she’s been inspired by Pitch Perfect director and producer Elizabeth Banks; “I started a production company a couple of years ago and directed a couple music videos and she’s helped me a lot, actually, and we have been talking about working together.”

They have already collaborated on a web series called Temporary, which is written by fellow Pitch Perfect star Chrissie Fit. “So Elizabeth is definitely an inspiration for me when it comes to knowing it can be done and that it can be done with intelligence and in the right way.”

‘Bushwick’ is in cinemas from 25 August and available on digital download from 28 August

anonymous asked:

How would Enma, Xanxus and Byakuran react to someone trying to convince their pregant s.o to leave them becaue they won't make good fathers



// Admin Chrome



Enma never thought that he would have the chance to have a family again. Hearing that you’re pregnant was one of the most joyful moments he had experienced in a long time. Of course, the world just really loves making Enma miserable.

“Look, I know you love him and everything, but I know for a fact that anyone who is the boss of a mafia family is not fit to be a father. No one.” Your sister furiously whispered to you as you bustled around the kitchen. You glared at her as you poured more tea into her cup.

“I think I can be the judge of that, not someone who does not even know Enma.” Your voice was calm, but Enma could tell that you were holding back your anger. Enma had come to greet your sister and you, but stopped before he entered the room, leaning on the doorway. His eyes followed you as you put back the teapot while rolling your eyes,

“Just…think about it. I know you have, right? I mean, someone who can kill so easily does not seem to be the type of person who could care for children.” Your sister pressed on, her voice quieter and gentler.

“I have never thought of that! Look, if you-” You finally had gotten to your limit, and was about to tell your sister off, but a cough interrupted you. Both your sister and you turned to see Enma’s dark gaze.

“I think that’s enough. I’m sure you should get home, it’s pretty late.” Enma’s voice was monotone, but you saw from the corner of your eye, a shiver from your sister. Your sister had only arrived an hour before, but the two of you knew not to argue.

Your sister got up to grab her purse, but before she got far past Enma, he grabbed her forearm, dragging her close to him. Enma leaned into the trembling girl.

“Ever speak ill of me towards my wife, and I’ll make sure she never sees you again.” The girl could barely stand after he was done, and once she was released, it took all her strength to bolt right out of the room.

“I hope you didn’t take any of that to heart.” Enma, now turned towards you, said. You walked over to him, and before he realized what you were doing, you leaned up and pecked him on the lips.

“Of course not. I just want you to know that I am confident you’ll be the best father ever, okay?”


Xanxus knows that he is not the picture-perfect lover, and to be honest, probably won’t be the best father. However, he does try, in his own ways. He is always there when you aren’t feeling well, and he does keep in mind to keep his anger in check around you just so there is no stress. To others outside your relationship, it may seem like Xanxus is neglecting you and does not give any thought to your unborn child.

That does not mean that people can speak for you and try to make your own decisions about your relationship. Xanxus can hear your mother over the phone, and it says something if he’s in the room next to you and her shrill voice can still be heard.

Have you seen what he is like when he’s mad? He’ll probably kill the baby if he starts crying! I just think it’s in your best interest if you leave him…”

“Mother, you don’t understa-”

I understand enough to know that he’s not fit to be having children!

“I’m going to hang up on you if you keep insisting on trying to convince me to leave my husba-”

Oh, so you married the psycho!? Listen to me, h-”

The line went dead, and it really only took you a few moments to realize that Xanxus was right behind you. He grabbed the phone from your hand, and slammed it down onto the receiver, smashing it into little pieces.

Xanxus scowled down at the broken pieces.

“I don’t give two shits what your mother says, you will be having my child and you won’t be leaving me.” His scowl doesn’t leave his face, but his hand comes up to gently wipe away the tear that had fallen down your cheek.


Byakuran was overjoyed at the news of child that you would be having with him. He couldn’t wait to meet the little one that the two of you created together. Byakuran never thought that he would have kids, and yet he could not see a furture without you or your future kids.

There was also the fact that now that you were pregnant, that meant that you could not run away anymore.

Byakuran left that little thought to himself, knowing that he shouldn’t be so possessive since he knew that you loved him unconditionally. It made him smile to himself when he saw you smiling down at your swollen tummy while telling it stories of the two of you.

It was as if it was the perfect fairy tale, but that was soon shattered when he walked right into an argument you were having with one of your friends that you insisted on staying in contact with (Byakuran was very picky on who you talked to and when, but he let this one slide because he knew that you were getting suspicious of his intent).

“-ou shouldn’t be with someone like him. He’s using you for the child!” Your friend exclaims, but you glare at him.

“I don’t think you should be speaking about anything in our relationship. I know Byakuran better than you, so I know for a fact he’s not using me.” Your friend rolls his eyes at your response.

“Why won’t you realize that Byrakuran is not cut out to be a father, or really your husband for that matter?!” The two of you haven’t noticed his presence yet, but Byakuran slowly walks towards the two of you.

“Hm~ What’s this? Someone yelling at my pregnant wife?” Byakuran pats your friend on the shoulder, shooting him a small smirk when he feels the man flinch at his touch. “Now why would you do such a thing?”

You can tell that Byakuran is furious, and you know for a fact that he heard the whole conversation. His dark tone and how tense his jaw is set gives away his masked anger.

Your friend just angirly shrugs off Byakuran’s hand, and scowls back at him in response, before turning his attention back to you.

“I’m not letting you waste yourself and your child around this creep, come on-” He goes for you arm, and before you can even blink, Byakuran already has your friend’s arm, twisting it till you can almost see the bone breaking slowly.

Once he lets go, your friend falls to the floor, the pain too much for him to handle.

“Come near us again, and I’ll kill you myself.”

kascreations  asked:

Here's a feels-inducing one for you! Sidon's reaction to finding out his s/o has caught an illness with a high death rate! :D

(I hope this one is feelsy enough to your liking my dear friend, I look forward to doing your next one~ Also I’m visiting relatives for a while so although I am on summer break they’ll probably be keeping me busy, I’ll try my best to submit as often as I can! Enjoy!~)

Can’t Let You Go

Word Count: 1847
Warnings: Angst, fatal illness, illness symptoms, vomit mention, blood

It was a very difficult feat reducing the optimizing and headstrong Prince of the Zora to tears but when he saw you laid in bed looking as if one gust of wind could whisk you away, the tears flew so freely that one would think that he had been crying every second of his life. Only those closest to him knew that this was not the case. It was only moments like this that could make Sidon feel this way; make him feel like his entire world was crashing down on him.

Sidon had known that you were sick for a while now but it had only been a gentle cough and light fever, nothing serious. You had never whined or complained. Every time he offered to excuse himself from his work to say by you, you always told him that you didn’t want to keep the Prince from his Kingdom. You said it would pass in a few days. You said you’d be fine.

Now here you were, two weeks later, restricted almost completely to your bed, and barely able to keep your eyes open.

After the first week, Sidon couldn’t help but worry even though you insisted you were okay, he was certain that you were getting worse. The maids and healers that cared for you while he was caught up with meetings and paperwork would inform him of your condition. Telling him that your coughs were quickly becoming more aggressive, your fever remained ever present, your movements were slower and sluggish, and you could hardly eat the food brought to you and even when you did it was never for long.

It seemed like your entire day was comprised of laying in bed because your body was too weak to carry you anywhere else, trying to sleep, coughing, trying to eat meals, or puking into a basin. You were miserable even though you tried to hide it.

He couldn’t take it anymore.

So, at the advisement of the healers, he sent a letter to a Hylian doctor requesting their services. It did not take long for the doctor to arrive in the Kingdom after hearing about your symptoms and once he performed a careful examination he was able to give a full diagnosis. It was not a good one.

You had caught a virus common to Hylians during this time of year and, at first, Sidon felt relieved thinking that surely this meant a cure had been developed. His heart dropped when the doctor informed him that there was no cure and, to rub salt in his fresh wound, most of those who caught this nasty disease did not make it.

Sidon, shortly after learning this devastating news, put everything else aside so that he could ten to your needs much to your meek protest. He couldn’t bear to be away from you and nobody could blame him. The Zora remained firmly planted at your side, hardly sleeping or eating anything as he watched over you. He couldn’t look away from your pale face for even a moment; he was afraid that if he did that would be the last moment he saw you alive.

It only took one moment for the cruel hands of fate to steal all that was precious to im in life. They had stolen his mother. They had stolen Mipha. They could steal you too.

Over his dead body.

During the daytime, things were manageable. The maids brought in the meals and medicine prescribed by the doctor to help with your symptoms. It was difficult for you to enjoy even the simplest dishes prepared by the kitchen but Sidon always tried to get you to eat something, even if it was just a nibble. It took some negotiating to get you to take the medicine, however, because according to you it tasted like Bokoblin crap.

Regardless, in the end, it didn’t matter because barely an hour late later it was usually coming right back up with Sidon apologizing profusely for making you eat and you always apologized for subjecting him to this nastiness.

Aside from that, everything ran relatively smoothly with you spending most of your time trying to rest while occasionally asking him for water or a story to fill up the silence in the room. Sidon had no problem doing any of these for you; he would gladly do anything that made this whole ordeal easier for you.

At night, it was a completely different story.

At night, things became unbearable.

Your illness seemed to take sick pleasure in terrorizing you at night because every one of your symptoms became excruciating and Sidon could only watch and try to do all he could to ease our suffering.

The fever spiked and while the heat burning around your head caused you to break out in a terrible sweat, the rest of your body remained freezing cold to the Zora Prince’s touch and shivered like a leaf in a raging storm. Sidon watched as your chest shook violently from the coughing fits that progressed into hacking that then progressed into the spilling of the contents of your stomach; even when there was absolutely nothing inside of your poor stomach to spill your body showed you no mercy. You would convulse and quiver over the basin dry heaving so violently and would not stop until you were reduced to an empty husk of a person sprawled out on the bed.

It was horrifying for Sidon to watch, though he knew it was ten times worse to experience it.

Tonight, was no exception. In fact, it was the definition of torture.

Your body was being particularly ruthless and once again Sidon was practically powerless to do anything about it. His love, his sweet treasure, his everything was coughing so violently he feared they would cough up their lungs and all he could do was hold their hand and offer to get them some water even though you both knew that would not help. Still he had to do something, anything to help you. Without saying a word, your body suddenly jolted up and Sidon released his careful hold on your hand to look up at you immediately concerned by your abrupt action.

Sidon’s eyes scanned your form noticing how your body convulsed aggressively in response to the terrible fit you were currently enduring. Then just as abruptly as you stood up you stopped and then fell silent and he could see your body still shaking.

Quickly he moved to adjust his chair so that he could look at your face saying, “My love, are you alri-!” His golden eyes dilated in horror seeing the trail of crimson running down your chin and pooling into your quivering hand. His heart shattered to see that you were crying, soft sobs replacing the horrible hacking and making you look even more weak and fragile than before. You were attempting to try and catch all the blood in your hand as if ashamed and terrified by what just happened.

Sidon stood up so quickly that he knocked his chair back and it fell to the ground with such a loud clatter that he was certain he had woken the entire palace but he didn’t care. He raced to retrieve a towel and then bring it back to you carefully wiping the blood from your hand and then pressing the cloth to your mouth as you sobbed. “I-It hurts…” Your voice comes out hoarse from coughing and muffled by the cloth and Sidon can feel himself start to cry along with you.

“I know, I’m sorry,” His voice breaks and he almost can’t stand looking at you reduced to such a poor state. The tears pooling in his eyes blur his vision and his hand shakes slightly as he wipes at the corners of your mouth trying to hold himself together and put on a brave face for you. He must stay strong for you. He must stay strong. He must…

Gently laying you back down on the bed, Sidon just watches kneeling beside the bed not even bothering to recollect his chair as he lets the towel drop to the floor. “It hurts so much… I-I just want it to stop… I’m so tired…” You hiccup in between your gut-wrenching sobs your fists clinging so tightly to the bedsheets that Sidon can see your knuckles turn white. “S-Sidon make it stop…”

You’re begging for help; begging for Sidon’s help and it is only a reminder that he is completely powerless.

He wished with every bone in his body that the sickness ravaging your body was a monster, something that he could see and properly fight off to protect you. Something that he could kill so that you would be free from this agony. Unfortunately, that was only wishful thinking. Unfortunately, he couldn’t do anything but sit and watch as you withered away in front of him.

Sidon carefully climbed into the bed wrapping you up in the blankets and bedsheets like you are a young infant before laying you on his chest holding you close to him. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” He whispered over and over again letting you cry out all of that pain he knows that you’ve been trying to hold in for his sake while he tries his best to console you. This is the least he can do for you.

If this dastardly disease did manage to succeed in its horrid plan he wanted you to be at peace; he knew it was horrible to even admit that you could leave him but he could not ignore the fact that was entirely too real possibility. Any moment your tired body could potentially give out and you could breathe your last and he wouldn’t be able to stop it. All he could do now was comfort you, keep you happy, keep hoping that you would get through this together.

He would stay with you no matter what.

No matter what.

When the sun rose the next morning, the maids brought in the food as usual giving the Prince time to wake you and then detangle himself from your body so he could go back to his place at your side. He watched overjoyed as you ate a third of the meal – it took a while, and you refused to touch anything until he promised to eat something too – but you managed to get food in your system. You even took the medicine with no complaints and Sidon could not have felt more relieved when an hour later you didn’t need to turn to the basin so your body could reject it.

Watching you take what he could only assume to be the best nap you had taken in two weeks, Sidon finally let his worries wash away and he rest his head on the edge of the bed placing his hand over yours admiring your sleeping face. The answer to his prayers was finally laid out to him so he did not need to worry anymore.

He could see it written on your face flushed with the faint hue of your color returning to your face as you slept so peacefully. He could feel it in his heart, mind, body, and soul. He could hear it in the room as if Hylia herself was standing there clearing all of the misery that had been hanging over the two of you.

Things were going to be okay.

just to put some armor on ya // stozier

in which stan is certain that he has the worst soulmate ever. that opinion doesn’t change when he meets him. college students!au, pennywise doesn’t exist!au, soulmate!au

author’s note: idea credit to @shitty-water and these two posts: x x. i haven’t written anything in ages please go easy on me.

Keep reading

2017 Annual Review

Stolen from Md-Admissions

1 - What did you do in 2017 that you’d never done before?

Quit a job, took antidepressants, went on a date!

2 - Did you keep your new years’ resolutions, and will you make more for next year?

Nah. I don’t typically make resolutions, though I always intend to get healthier and spend more time with Jesus.

3 - Did anyone close to you give birth?

Yup, 2 of my best buddies and my former nurse!

4 - Did anyone close to you die?

Sort of. My dad died. We weren’t close, but you know. I also had 27 patients die in 2017.

5 - What countries did you visit?

France, Israel

6 - What would you like to have in 2018 that you lacked in 2017?

More confidence in meeting new people, more enjoyment of my work, better time management, and the ability to say no without fear.

7 - What date from 2017 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?

1/1/17, when I turned in my notice for my old job; 7/14/17, my last day at that job; 4/16/17 my dad’s death date.

8 - What was your biggest achievement of the year?

Taking back control of my life and getting closer to the lifestyle in and out of work that I want.

9 - What was your biggest failure?

Laziness. In pretty much everything, but especially when it comes to physical fitness.

10 - Did you suffer illness or injury?

I got a cold or two, but otherwise I’m good!

11 - What was the best thing you bought?

My new house that is soooo cute!

12 - Whose behavior merited celebration?

My new office manager, who I love because she actually cares about the staff.

13 - Whose behavior made you appalled or depressed?

My older sister- neither of us were close with our dad, but she was plain mean about some things.

My former medical partners, who had no interest in helping me succeed in my job.

14 - Where did most of your money go?

Paying my way out of my old job and life. To the hospital, who had me ransomed for a buttload of cash to keep me working in that horrible place. To the apartment complex I stayed in briefly but had to honor a 6 month lease. To my new house which I am loving furnishing. Student loans. Taxes.

15 - What did you get really, really, really excited about?

Leaving my old job!

16 - What song(s) will always remind you of 2017?

Look What You Made Me Do by Taylor Swift- because it’s a crap song for a crap year.

17 - Compared to this time last year, are you:
I. Happier or sadder?

Much happier. SO MUCH HAPPIER.

II. Thinner or fatter?


III. Richer or poorer?

A lot poorer, thanks to having to pay my way out of a contract.

18 - What do you wish you’d done more of?

I’m gonna second MD-A and say more self care. I definitely did a lot better in 2017 because I did absolutely focus on getting myself to a better place mentally, but I wish I had taken better care of my body in addition to my mind.

19 - What do you wish you’d done less of?

Watch tv.

20 - How will you be spending/spent christmas?

Went home and hung out with my mom and sister and grandma. 
21 - Did you fall in love in 2017?


22 - How many one-night stands?


23 - What was your favorite tv program?

Probably Manhunt: Unabomber

24 - Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?


25 - What was the best book you read?

Finished up Bastard Out of Carolina by Dorothy Allison last week (so good!) and I’m almost done with a serial killer thriller now.

26 - What was your greatest musical discovery?

I didn’t discover anyone new this year but got a lot of new stuff from old faves.

27 - What did you want and get?

New job, house of my own, and a 4 day work week.

28 - What was your favorite film of this year?

Uhm, not sure there. Nothing sticks out at me.

29 - What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?

Turned 31 at home with my family. Nothing special this year.

30 - What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?

A fella. Or babies.

31 - How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2017?

Super casual at my old job- khakis and sweaters or leggings and tunics. New job is slightly more formal and I had to give up the leggings at work.

32 - What kept you sane?

Jesus, Prozac, Wellbutrin, medblr, and my family

33 - Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?

I really can’t think of anyone!

34 - What political/social issue stirred you the most?

Healthcare equality, immigration ban, rampant sexual harassment of women

35 - Who did you miss?

My granddaddy.

36 - Who was the best new person you met?

One of my work partners and a neighbor of mine, both of whom I knew before but have gotten to know much better in the past few months and they have become great friends.

37 - Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2017:

You can’t sacrifice happiness and contentment for money or approval. There’s never enough of either to make you happy.

some Winn Schott Jr. meta

I found a continuity error in Supergirl (surprise, surprise) that I’m basically just going to fit into some headcanon so it doesn’t bother me anymore. This post also features other Winn!Content with a heavy dash of Meta and Trauma, so be warned:

Okay, so. In the episode “Childish Things”, in Winn’s first confrontation with his father, he says “I watched my dad get dragged off to prison when I was eleven for murder. <<<pay close attention to the wording of that, as we’re going to revisit it twice.

Howeverrrrr, in the s2 episode “City of Lost Children” he says, in typical Winn fashion, “if somebody had given me action figures when they interrogated me about my dad, when I was ten? I would have sung like a canary.” Ten, folks, not eleven.


Is this merely a continuity error?

Well, it’s highly probable. I’ll save my rant against CW/DC writing for the sake of this post, but let’s just leave it at the fact that continuity errors in even the fairly important (and simple) details are definitely not out of the question.

It could also be, in the Supergirlverse, that the events leading up to Winslow Sr.’s incarceration did not occur in as timely a manner as we immediately assume. We’re quite accustomed to dramas showing us crimes being committed and the perpetrator getting arrested, convicted, and sentenced in the span of 40 minutes. But that’s not how it often works irl, and not the way it necessarily has to go in fiction.

Consider the Toyman. He’s a clever guy, and obviously he was smart enough to spend time planning the attack on his boss, even if it was still ill-conceived and ultimately did not work. But if he played his cards right, it’s entirely possible that the investigating law enforcement did not have enough evidence to convict him right away. Because yeah, the angry employee who got slighted is the first person the feds would seek to convict, but that doesn’t mean they had evidence to do so.

On the surface level this would in the least explain the age difference: a young Winn may very well have been interrogated by police when he was 10 and his father was not ultimately arrested until up to a year later when he was 11.

Now, if this is true, what it means potentially for the character is that there was a period of 1 month to 12 months where an angry and unhinged father who has crossed the line and snapped and actually killed a minimum of 6 people (during that first supervillainy event, although a 7th is later confirmed by Agent Chase and I’m gonna talk about that too), is still living at home, with his wife and kid.  Hence the Schott family having to live through that legal and emotional nightmare on top of the crime itself and no wonder his mom just took off.

The idea that Mr. Schott’s arrest and conviction was not immediate would also help explain the fact that the cops had to interrogate a 10 year-old-boy:

Winn doesn’t say "question” or anything that implies this was a chill “we’re here to protect you from your dad and we just need to hear it from you so we’ve crossed all our T’s” kind of conversation. He uses the word “interrogated” very deliberately, and in fact makes this reference to his childhood during a time when his coworkers are being pretty (albeit mostly unintentionally) cold in questioning a young boy, stating as a kid he might have been more inclined to be cooperative if someone had just been kind to him.

On the OTHER hand, it is slightly possible that Winn Schott is like most of us and doesn’t remember childhood events all that well when it comes to the passage of time. (I had years growing up I wasn’t even sure exactly how old I was until I counted but I’m a nincompoop so) However, being as old as he was and the events being as big and traumatic and memorable as they were, this is doubtful.


Going back to that first line (”I watched my dad get dragged off to prison”), because I only realized this when I went back to the episode to check and see if I was right about the inconsistency-

During the raid at the docks, Agent Chase tells Kara they’re not taking any chances (which they’re actually taking like a lot of chances with this terrible plan of action they have, like, wow, they are the worst agents ever, somebody fire them). Why is she so uptight about all this? Because Winslow Sr. “killed an agent the last time we apprehended him.”

Go back and read the lines again.

Read them.

Winn was there.

Winn was heckin there when his heckin dad was hecking getting arrested and being dragged off to prison immediately following an event in which he heck hecking killed an agent, if not literally in front of, in the very near vicinity of, his small son. (!!!)

I am. very calm. writing this now. I was not. calm at all. when I first realized it earlier.






Don’t you talk to me about any of the other characters’ traumas or excuse their behavior because of their childhood or family history - ever again. Appreciate Winn Schott Jr. folks. The purest sunshine child, who constantly overcomes so much, always forgives, automatically seeks the good of others first, is seldom thanked and always called upon to show up, and has so much empathy and caring he’s about as opposite from his dad as he can be. He deserves nothing but to be valued, cared for, and loved.

yr fave is problematic

Up Front Disclaimer: I actually think the language of “privilege” is uniquely ill-suited to articulating cis women’s relationship to being CAFAB, and some day I’d love to sit down with cis women and try and articulate exactly how the particular differences between cis women’s and trans women’s experiences function and what that means for our ability to function as a coalitional political unit, but right now…

Where mainstream (and even mainstream “radical” or “woke”) feminism deigns to engage with the lives and experiences of trans women at all, they are so convinced that transmisogyny is the purview of TERFs or some comically-off-base-and-clearly-self-interested caricature of “White Feminism” (like yr radical queer!! space isn’t white as hell? come on) that nobody is looking at their own shit and asking if maybe yeah, they’ve been part of the problem.

Like white people who talk about hating other white people, this performative anger/disdain/rejection is a distancing strategy, a way of avoiding the reality of transmisogyny in their own spaces and communities by offloading that burden onto a safe (frequently entirely imaginary, in fact!) target.

True story: your Feminist Fave has probably participated in, or happily rubbed elbows with others who have participated in, transmisogyny to their own benefit. Your friends have almost certainly done so. The loose collective of Canon Good Feminists who aren’t overtly racist, etc. is rife with cis women more than happy to mock trans women and equivocate or just ignore it when called out. With entertainers it’s basically a sure deal (I think Kate McKinnon is cute, too, ya’ll! Doesn’t change that she’s been doing transmisogynist shit forever without a second thought!) but even your honest-to-god icons are guilty here, too: every riot grrl band who wouldn’t cancel their show at MichFest, every theorist who acts like “people with penises” is a coherent social class, every trans dude who thinks tr-nny is his word, too…

The fact that you, as a person at least somewhat invested in feminist spaces, people, and theory, don’t have to keep track of this shit, is cis privilege. But unlike the more insidious parts of cis privilege, the parts more deeply embedded in our dumpster fire of a society, this is actually something you can disown. You can educate yourself on what your feminist role models and icons have said about trans women–all it takes is googling “*name* transphobia* every once in a while. If shit has been said, it’s pretty likely that some trans woman out there has done the emotional and intellectual labor of writing a summary post on their bullshit. It’ll be good for your praxis too–I think I’m a pretty decent feminist and 80%-ish of my personal feminist canon is trans women theorists and activists, TBH.

But I don’t realistically expect most cis people (or men, for that matter) to do this work because frankly, trans women don’t have the social capital to make our withdrawing support a meaningful action–and beyond that, we are oppressed under misogyny and can’t afford to not challenge it, even if the people we’re working alongside are actively sabotaging us. Nonetheless, it is possible (and not even that hard, in my opinion, but I have pretty well-worn pathways in my brain for sorting people according how sketchy they are wrt transmisogyny so IDK) even if yall don’t do it.

If I’m being honest, I am low-key a trans lesbian separatist, and this is why. I don’t trust cis folk or men to have my back because they’ve seen fit to stick a knife in it one (or two or five or a hundred) too many times, only to have ostensible allies to trans women make excuses for them or look the other way or hand them another fucking knife.

The question here cannot be "is my community and my feminism transmisogynist?” because I assure you, they are, and those questions are literally the least you can do. We need you to start asking “how are my community and my feminism transmisogynist, and what can I do about that?”. If you don’t, then no matter how well-intentioned you are, we’re gonna keep spinning our wheels, stuck in the same ditch we’ve been in for the last 70 years. Trans women are gonna keep dying, and nobody’s gonna do anything about it except other trans women, who are also being killed by the cisheteropatriarchal medical-/prison-industrial-complex that was, in a real sense, designed to do just that.

Again, not all of you will follow through here. This won’t be the first or last time I’m disappointed by folks who aren’t trans women. But I hope I’ve given you something to think about, that even if you still fuck up sometimes–which we all do–you’ve course-corrected at least a little. Trans women’s lives depend on it.

Written in reference to this tweet thread from Raquel Willis.