i felt like doing something different

like i love taliesin a lot & i love percy a lot, & there’s always been something very reassuring to me about taliesin– he’s never been harsh or rude and he’s always been unapologetically him, wearing makeup & nail polish & doing his hair different colours and styles

& maybe it’s just me zoning into other bi guys like some sort of Sixth Sense™ but i’ve always felt comfortable if taliesin’s speaking or presenting something or if it’s percy’s time to shine on critical role and i get this– and i always have– comforting, soft vibe from him

it’s just such a huge relief to see one of my favourite people come out as bi. as another weird nerdy bi guy, it’s such a relief and it’s made me so happy he feels comfortable enough to share that with us

Rick Riordan won a Stonewall award today

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Renaissance Faire - Race and Culture

This month hosts The Renaissance Pleasure Faire in Los Angeles. For those of you who have never been to a Ren Faire, one of the key aspects of it is costume and dressing up. 

When I was in High School and would go with my High School friends, I was always a little jealous of the costumes that they would wear. All of my friends in High School you see, were white. The costumes that they would wear always looked right on them and somehow, wrong on me. 

One year, I took things into my own hands and decided to dress as a Chinese Peasant. I got a Rice Paddy hat from our local chinatown and a pretty drab and easy top and pants (I super wish I could find these photos for you guys)  

The effect worked, a lot of people noticed my costume and laughed at my little joke.

Still, I would look at my friends in their beautiful dresses and flower crowns and envy that they could easily slip into this land of make believe and I still felt a little bit like an outsider. 

I don’t believe that anyone particularly made me feel this way, it was just something that made me aware of my race when usually it’s something I don’t necessarily think about. 

So, I went and decided to just wear the ‘wrong’ feeling costumes anyways, it was all pretend and I could do anything I wanted. 

But this year, I decided to do something different. I did some research and found out that during the Elizabethan period, the Ming dynasty would have been in power. I did some research online and found myself a Ming Dynasty costume. 

It was everything I had ever wanted. I felt pretty, but also I felt like I belonged. I felt like I was able to share my culture and what was beautiful about that time period with people who didn’t know. A lot of people stopped me to ask about my costume! I wish I had known a little bit more about accurate construction or really, anything about the Ming Dynasty, but I still felt right in it. 

There are lots of cultures that existed during the Elizabethan era and I encourage any People of Color to share that when they go to a Renaissance festival next time! I would love to see more costumes, maybe Armenian or Turkish or Mongolian! 

Next year I want to take this as a starting point and try to incorporate more elements of fantasy. There are lots of Chinese dramas that take period costumes and throw some fun fantasy elements into it. Here are some cool examples:

2

It’s really vitally important to me the way women are portrayed. As someone who has always felt at times pretty genderless because of my size, it interests me to challenge ideas of prejudice and femininity and what it is to be a woman. It’s still something that I don’t have all the answers for but I would like to make a bit of a difference; do something, anything, that causes people to have more sense of equality.

i remember the first time i saw a trailer for Split in the movie theaters. i was with family and the theater was full and i’d been mildly enjoying the trailers and perked up a bit when the tell-tale ominous music of a horror movie trailer started, because i love good thrillers.

except then it was frame after frame after frame of a person with dissociative identity disorder being portrayed as everyone’s boogey man, the shrieks of the little girl protagonists as he appeared wearing different clothes and a different voice, people in the theater jumping and giggling every time they showed the man doing something horrific. and i felt frozen in my seat.

my sister leaned over to me when it was finished and said “i want to see that” with a look on her face like it was the greatest trailer she’d ever seen.

like it wasn’t a punch to my gut everytime i heard someone whisper “psycho” or “crazy” and other terrible things. like in that moment i didn’t feel like running away from all these people, like i didn’t feel unsafe and filthy. because these people getting their thrills from a demonizing potrayal of a mental illness.

and the thing is, it matters.

because if i bring it up people will say “oh but it’s not really mental illness, like depression or something. he was just fucking crazy which is totally scary haha”. yeah well, not haha. not haha because DID is a real mental illness but that’s not what it looks like. people with DID aren’t murderers or dangerous. but now, because movies like Split are all people have seen of illnesses like DID, that’s their frame of reference.

the media does it with DID, with schizophrenia, with every single personality disorder, with bipolar, with everything else that is “scary”. raising awareness for depression and anxiety is important, they’re valid and serious illnesses. but hardly anyone tries to protect people with “scary” disorders. this halloween when costumes of the main character crop up, people will giggle and buy it because it’s so creepy and cool.

i’m reminded that, although i don’t have DID, much of my mental illness is defined by symptoms that are used in other horror movies. that people who have “scary” disorders are the entertainment in everyone else’s world. and for people who do have DID, that movie is absolutely devastating.

so if you buy a ticket to see Split, please know that’s it’s not harmless entertainment or a good thrill. it’s fucking ableism and you’re being ableist if you go see it.

(please reblog, neurotypical or not)

Y’all know my obsession with mer!Stiles but what about professional merman!Stiles and single dad!Derek whose little girl is obsessed with mermaids?

Derek understands it’s probably not healthy to try indulge all of his daughter’s impossible wishes, but she rarely asks for anything and if she wants a mermaid for her 6th birthday he’s going to find a way to make it happen.

Enter Stiles - professional merman. Derek isn’t exactly sure if a dude is quite what his daughter wants in a mermaid but between not wanting to ruin the surprise and the fact she pretty much squeals MERMAID!! MERMAID!! MERMAID!! when she sees anything that even slightly resembles a fish, he thinks a guy will be fine. 

Derek is expecting…well, he’s not actually sure what he’s expecting. Do professional mermaids grow up wanting to be professional mermaids or does the job just come with a particular…lifestyle, like surfers and lifeguards and people way too obsessed with Disney? Whoever Derek is expecting to show up at his door though, it certainly isn’t someone who greets him by saying, “holy shit, you’re gorgeous” followed by “wait, I mean…holy shit you’re gorgeous.” Derek hasn’t felt his cheeks turn red since he was fifteen, which is why he’s totally not to blame when all he manages to say in return is, “do you come with your own tail?”

“Why, you planning on supplying one for me, big guy? I do have my own tail but if kitting me out in a different one is something you’re into….” he winks, like he was fucking born to, and for a moment Derek is kind of terrified he’s accidentally hired a hooker who thinks Derek has a weird mermaid fetish. 

“Um…no….that’s….okay.” He swears he used to have better game than this. Not that he’s trying to flirt with Stiles. He hired him for his daughter’s birthday party, for fuck’s sake. There are rules. He’s almost certain. 

“Great, well, if you could just lead me to the pool….” Stiles squints. “You….do have a pool, right? Once someone hired me to sit in a bathtub all day and while you might think getting paid to sit around in bathtub all day is the world’s best job, believe me when I say it’s not.”

Half an hour later, Derek blushes again - this is really getting out of hand - when Stiles knocks on his back door, panting, “okay, so, I know my website says professional and please trust me when I say I am but…could you help me get my tail on? Usually I have my buddy Scott to help me set up but it’s his anniversary today and, well,” he shrugs. Derek doesn’t stop blushing for the rest of the day, in fact. Especially during lunch when the kids go inside to watch The Little Mermaid and Stiles flops up onto the pool side, the moles scattered all down his neck and chest doing funny things to Derek under the glare of the sun. Not even the way Stiles’ nose starts to burn puts him off. All it does is force Derek outside, awkwardly standing over Stiles, shyly holding out some sunscreen. 

It doesn’t help that Stiles is perfect with the kids, either. No question is too silly for him and he even manages to coax his daughter’s friend Isaac to the edge of the pool even though Isaac is frightened of mermaids and the only reason he came today is because his daughter promised to hold his hand all day and protect him (which Derek noted fondly Isaac couldn’t stop talking about all week, according to his older brother).

The real problem starts, however, when his daughter asks Stiles if he will fall in love with her daddy because her daddy deserves true love because he’s he bestest daddy in the whole world and mermaids always always make sure when they fall in love it’s the “big explody” kind of love, right? You’re not an evil mermaid, are you Stiles? You won’t try to drown my daddy if he kisses you, will you? 

No, sweetheart, I won’t drown your daddy if he tries to kiss me.” He looks over at Derek, waggling his eyebrows. Derek, god help him, has never been so endeared in his life. 

See, daddy,” his daughter yells, putting her hands on her hips. “I told you.”

Stiles bites down on a laugh and Derek crosses his arms, raises an eyebrow at her. “Lacy, what have I told you about trying to set daddy up with strangers?”

“But Stiles isn’t a stranger, daddy. He’s got a tail.” 

Derek sighs, leading Lacy into the house. “I’m sure Stiles already has a lovely mer…person waiting for him at home.”

“You won’t ever find love if you don’t take a chance, daddy,” Lacy pouts, sounding scarily like Erica whenever they get onto the topic of his love life (which is horribly frequent these days).

“Yeah,” Stiles call after them, “take a chance, daddy! I promise, we merfolk don’t bite.” He pauses. “Much.” He winks and Derek blushes for probably the 100th time that day.

He hates everything.

Except, he really doesn’t because after putting Lacy to bed, he comes back down stairs to find Stiles’ number on the envelope of cash he had left out for Stiles to take. 

We merfolk don’t have use for money but if you want to buy me dinner some time, we do like to eat.

P.S. Curly fries are optional but highly encouraged.

P.P.S. If you bring me this money instead of curly fries, this relationship is not going to work. 

(Spoiler alert: Derek doesn’t bring Stiles his money. Instead he puts it in a box, still inside the envelope, which neither of them touch until Stiles proposes five years later when they use it to buy celebratory engagement pizza and that fancy ice cream that Lacy loves so much - which she henceforth insists on calling “finally ice cream” because, well…..finally.)

By Way of Spontaneity (Part 4)

Summary: On a whim, Bucky declares you to be his girlfriend to his grandma and mother. They’re eager to meet you and he asks you to pretend to be with him for just one dinner with his family. But is that really all?

Word Count: 1,184

Warnings: None.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

A/N: This part is a little longer and filled with a few details. I hope you all enjoy :) 

Originally posted by bucksstan


Raising a brow, you turned to face Bucky when you felt a few seconds and he wasn’t helping you out with your stuck zipper. You nudged your head up. “What’s wrong with you, huh?”

Bucky suddenly cleared his throat and shook his head. “Nothing! Turn around.”

Without waiting for you to do so, he grabbed you by your shoulders and spun your around himself, quickly zipping you up. You couldn’t help the impressed whistle.

“I’ve been fighting with the stupid thing for the past ten minutes,” you said.

Bucky smirked, waving his fingers. “I have magic fingers.”

You laughed. “Shut up. Let’s go.”

Keep reading

{PART 1} I Won’t Stop You // Jeon Jungkook, Vampire!AU

Originally posted by jengkook

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Vampire!AU, Fantasy, Angst, Smut

Summary; You drive to your boss‘s house with the intention of returning his wallet he left at the office. You feel uneasy, seeing his manor for the first time - Jungkook also feels uneasy, but for reasons that you could never begin to imagine.

A/N; This is the first instalment of a request I received that I decided to turn into a series that will contain smut. I’ll release a new chapter every Tuesday between 9pm-10pm (U.K Time), I hope you enjoy part 1 ^^

{Part 1} {Part 2}

Keep reading

It’s really vitally important to me the way women are portrayed. As someone who has always felt at times pretty genderless because of my size, it interests me to challenge ideas of prejudice and femininity and what it is to be a woman. It’s still something that I don’t have all the answers for but I would like to make a bit of a difference; do something, anything, that causes people to have more sense of equality.

Can I be honest with you? Like I know we’ve only known each other for what a month. But damn, my feelings for you are off of the charts. And I know when we hang out, I get all flustered and shy, because you do something to me. I’m not very good at speaking, and I’m not very good in letting my feelings be known. But I really like you. And it’s not just like I’m attracted to you. But let me explain it. It’s like when I’m with you, every little part of my body and soul rejoices, because for once in my life I’m with someone who seeks to understands me. Someone who laughs at my jokes, and in turn I laugh at theirs, and someone I feel like something can actually happen. But I’m so freaking afraid that you don’t feel the same way. That’s why sometimes I don’t answer you right away, or I act like I don’t care, but I really do, because I am also at the same time trying to protect myself. Because the last time I felt this way about someone, they left, and I was broken for a long time. But I feel like you’re different, and I like you. And I’m sorry this is tangent but, I just gotta let you know, why I say things and why I do things. I just wanted to let you know.
—  (via young-wildandfresh)
Haunting Me (Chap. 3)❤️

Haunting Me: Y/N is a normal young adult living in New York, but little does she know that she’s a reincarnation of the long lost Bucky Barnes’ fiance from the 1940′s. What happens when she runs into Steve in 2012? Most importantly, what happens when she runs into The Winter Soldier? 

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x POC Reader 

Warnings: Angst. Fluff. Kidnapping. Major feels. 

72 Hours Earlier

Bucky was a hundred percent sure that he had seen the girl in front of him before. Maybe it wasn’t from face to face encounters, but he had in fact seen you. It started with the mission briefing he was given two days ago.

Pierce sat in front of him with that sly, devilish smile of his that made Bucky’s skin crawl. He opened the manilla folder in his hands and began reading everything about his mission, especially his target.

“The man you saw on the bridge earlier is a menace and needs to be terminated as soon as possible. Do you understand, soldier?” Bucky nodded silently. His eyes were focused on the picture in front of him, memorizing any necessary details. It was crucial for him, as he was expected to complete his missions without any unnecessary casualties.

“You see this woman, James?” Pierce pulled out another picture and held it in his face. It wasn’t a formal photograph by any means, it looked as if someone had snapped the picture of you as you walked about, doing your day to day things. The older man’s eyes watched Bucky’s closely, studying his face for any signs of reactions.

Bucky’s brows furrowed as he took in all of your features, especially your skin tone. You were quite beautiful, no doubt. Hydra had attempted numerous times to purge out any sort of unnecessary ways of thinking, especially the sense of attraction. Fortunately, as much as he was tortured, they failed to do just that he guesses.

“After you get rid of him, I want you do something…a bit unorthodox. A bit different from what you’ve done in the past.”

His eyes flickered between the picture and the man. Every time he asked him to do something “unorthodox” it usually meant something along the sadistic lines. The only time he was asked to do this was when he tortured a target. He didn’t enjoy that one bit. 

“I want you to find this girl, James,” he explained, peering down at him. 

“And I want you to impregnate her. By any means necessary.”

You shifted awkwardly as he studied your face. 

You felt like he was staring into your soul, into your very being and you felt so exposed. You were used to men staring at you sometimes, even if they were just giving you side glances, but the way this man was staring at you made you feel so hot in the face. 

“I think you must be mistaken, s-sir,” you stuttered. They must’ve really brainwashed him for him to believe something like that. You felt a pang of guiltiness as you thought about it. The poor man must have been abused in so many horrible ways for him to be having the delusions.

“But I-I’m only twenty two years old. Maybe you knew someone who looked like m-”

His eye twitched at your words and he ran a hand over his face in frustration. You immediately shut your mouth at his actions. He let out a growl before looking back at you. 

“I knew you,” he demanded. “I don’t know how, but I did. I saw you in my head after you cursed at me on the bridge.” 

Your eyes widened once again. You didn’t say it out loud, but he was probably having hallucinations. It was the only reasonable answer, but something struck you that he wasn’t the reasonable type. Not by a long shot. 

“Okay then…” you trailed off, looking around the room. You felt yourself shiver uncontrollably. It was freezing in the room, especially since the heat hadn’t been turned on yet and it was cold as ice outside by now. The sun had gone down all the way now and you were for sure that you were in the middle of nowhere. 

That’s when the sudden realization kicked in and you found yourself slowly starting to panic. You were trapped in here with this man, far away from the protection of Steve and the police. You didn’t see your purse anywhere in the room, meaning your phone was gone, along with your medication. 

Uh oh. 

You felt your chest begin to tighten, followed by the feeling of lightheadedness. Little black dots began to dance around your eyes, causing everything to blur. You mentally scolded yourself as you felt your breathing becoming uneven. You had struggled with anemia your entire life. Especially now, as an adult, you were having so many issues with battling it. Your doctor had prescribed you Iron pills which you were to take in cases like these, but of course, your pills were in your purse. 

Which was probably sitting in a random person’s possession right now. 

Bucky, noticing your state, leaned forward and placed the back of his hand onto your forehead. You weren’t running a fever, but you were reacting in a strange manner. He had no clue what was happening, he hoped you weren’t in any mortal trouble. 

“Y/N,” he spoke, his eyes wide as he watched you sway from side to side. You slumped over, but immediately, he caught you in his arms. Your head lolled onto his shoulder. 

He placed a hand onto your back, feeling along your clothed body until it was resting in a specific position. “Shit!” he muttered, before lying you on your back. He began untying your shoes, pulling the strings from the lace until they were loose enough for him to slide off of your feet. Once they were off, he reached froward and began unbuttoning your jeans. 

“N-No!” you gasped, causing him to jump and shift his gaze over to your horrified expression. “Get away!” you cried, pushing his hands away from your body. You tried to wiggle your legs in hopes of kicking him back, but in one move, he held your legs still with his metal arm.   

Bucky looked over at you, his face set in an extremely unhappy frown. “I’m not going to…” he trailed off, suddenly realizing why you were panicking. It wasn’t usual for him to feel guilt, but he felt it at that moment and it frightened him to no end. Who was this mysterious girl that caused him to react this way?

“You’re anemic,” he explained, although he was positive you already knew. “You need to get as much air as possible, along with any source of iron. You’re having an attack right now, which can last no more than thirty minutes without medical attention.” 

You were beyond shocked at his words. How did he know all these things? Anemia was a bit hard to spot unless you were a doctor. That meant, among the many things they taught him, they wired some medical training as well. 

You felt your chest tightening, sending you into a further panic. You hated feeling this way, the last attack you had was in fourth grade and it was borderline traumatizing. 

Bucky reached forward again, slower this time, and began unbuttoning your jeans slowly. You whimpered as he slowly tugged the material down your thighs, before discarding them to the side. He then made his way to the flannel you were wearing and began unbuttoning each of the little buttons and sliding the material off your body, leaving you in a small under tank top. 

He gently placed his hands on your side and rolled you over until you were lying on your side. You tried to inhale as much as possible, but without the medication, you knew you weren’t getting much rest tonight. 

Another shiver crept through your body, goosebumps forming along your body as the fall temperatures filled the room. You felt Bucky place the bed comforter onto your body, before standing once again. 

You had no idea what he was doing. You thought that maybe he was just going back to the table and occupy himself, but instead you felt the bed beside you dip from the weight of him. You felt your hands being pulled in front of you, causing you to open your eyes. 

“What are you doing?” you tugged your arms, trying to free yourself from his iron grip. He wrapped his flesh hand around your wrists as he placed one of your shoelaces around them and tied them into a knot. You winced, staring up at him in shock. 

“I’m making sure you don’t leave,” he said nonchalantly, his face void of all emotion. “I’m not finished with you yet.” 

You let out an angry sigh and yanked your wrists away with as much force as you could muster. “Well, I’m finished with your bullshit!” you spat. His eyes widened at your sudden courage. 

“I’ve been kidnapped, shot at, beaten and held captive against my will by you! The least you could do is treat me with some kind of decency! Why are you such a prick?” you couldn’t stop the string of insults that poured from your mouth no matter how hard you tried. You knew you messed up as soon as you saw his eye twitch. 

For some reason, he didn’t move. Or speak.

 He only stared at you, his eyes wide. 

1940

“Why are you such a prick?” 

You picked up the nearest object closest to you and launched it at your boyfriend’s head. The small container of blush landed right in his face, shattering all over his suit. You turned around in search of something else to throw, but you felt yourself being spun around forcefully. 

“Y/N, I swear on my life, I wasn’t flirting with that girl!” Bucky exclaimed. He tried to touch your cheek, but you moved away quickly. 

“Really?” you spat, your eyes narrowed. “Then why was she all over you? Why didn’t you stop her?” 

You and he had just come back from your first date, which consisted of the two of you driving out of town to another city and going to a drive-in. You knew there would be some friction because of your skin color, but when you pulled into the driveway, people started staring shamelessly. No matter how much you begged Bucky, he refused to leave. 

And to make matters worse, when he left the car to get snacks, he was immediately stopped by some brunette who was shamelessly hanging on his arm. Instead of turning her down, you watched as he laughed at all her little jokes and even gave her a hug. 

You were pissed. 

“Is that what this is about?” he asked, his tone becoming significantly softer. You rolled your eyes and turned your back on him. He hated when you shut him out, especially since you two were together now. 

Bucky let out a small laugh, walking towards you with a dorky grin. You scoffed, eyeing him out the corner of your eye. Was he serious? Did he really think that little of your relationship?

“What is so funny?” you asked, glaring at him. 

Bucky bit back the grin that threatened to form on his face as he placed both of his hands on your shoulders. He bent down so that he was eye level with you and looked deep into your eyes. 

“Sugar,” he chuckled. “That girl was my sister, Rebecca.” 

Immediately, you felt so embarrassed. You covered your face with your hands and let out a groan. You tended to overreact at times, your mother always told you it would be the death of you. She was right. 

Bucky let out another laugh at your flushed face and pulled you into a hug. He rested his chin on top of your head as he held you close. 

“I’m so sorry!” You mumbled into his chest. 

“Don’t be, doll,” he replied, pulling away from you. He peered down at your smaller self and smiled down at you. He pried your hands away from your face, revealing you. 

“If it makes you feel any better,” he whispered, leaning his forehead against yours. 

“Rebecca really, really wants to meet you.” 

“Are you alright?” you asked, waving your hand in front of Bucky’s face. 

He inhaled sharply, blinking away the memory that burned into his brain. He was right, he knew you. Just like he knew Steve. But the real question was, how on earth did you get here? 

Were you frozen as well? That was highly unlikely, as he would’ve known about it at one point. It was highly illogical, but maybe -just maybe- you were immortal. But that didn’t explain your memory loss. How were you not remembering as well. 

“Bucky?” you found yourself saying. His eyes snapped back to you at the sound of his name leaving your lips for the first time. You looked the same, from the frown on your face, to the length of your hair. How was this possible? 

“You’re really starting to worry me-”

“Jane,” Bucky spoke, his voice full of emotion. You cocked your head to the side.

Your name was Jane and you loved to wear red lipstick.” 

Alexander Pierce knew many things in this world. 

He knew that President Kennedy would’ve shaped the century if he had lived, he would’ve created a revolution for mutants. He knew that aliens did exist, also that there was life among other galaxies. He knew every dirty little secret the United States had swept under the rug, far away from the public’s knowledge. 

But one thing he didn’t know, was how on earth Y/N Y/L/N was not only alive, but the same exact age as 1942. To his knowledge, you weren’t put in a cryo chamber, or even accidentally frozen with Rogers. You died of lung cancer, for fuck’s sake. How the hell did you manage to leapfrog through time as well as Rogers and Barnes? 

Looking back on your medical history, you had nothing out of the ordinary. You were anemic, allergic to strawberries, and suffered from mild headaches sometimes, but that was it. Hell, you hadn’t been to the doctor in a few years, that’s how good your health was. So what gives? 

That’s when he started flipping through your family history. Your family wasn’t anything special, archives went all the way to the late 1800′s before they stopped. Pierce rubbed his temples as he stared down at the many papers scattered before him. 

The mission he gave Barnes was simple, but now that he went rogue and completely went MIA, he wasn’t so sure if his decisions were adequate. If he succeeded, you would be with child in no time. 

In the past Hydra had failed to create another Winter Soldier with lab work. The serum only worked in every one in a million chance, which was far too risky for him. Instead, he figured, maybe Hydra wouldn’t have to create another soldier. Barnes could. 

Not just any woman could be chosen. It had to be you. It was odd that you had popped up just in time, but your DNA was somewhat abnormal than others. Pierce was absolutely sure of it, but you had no idea as of now. 

You were a mutant. 

You could reincarnate yourself at will. 

- FIN! ❤️   


Holy shitballs! Y/N is a mutant!!

Tag list of super awesome people! ❤️

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everystarstorm  asked:

As a biologist the episode "The Zoo" really interested me. A much smaller population separated for thousands of years makes me really wonder how physically different the zoo humans are to earth humans. The zoo humans are even selectively bread. It's just something I've been thinking about since I saw that episode.

@everystarstorm said:
Also adding to the selective breeding thing I think that adds to how complacent they are. After all humans are inherently curious and questioning but the zoo humans just aren’t. Not to say the socializing part didn’t play a huge roll in it but not one of the humans ever questions anything in the zoo. That’s not something humans do, it’s even the plot of several movies.

That’s a really interesting observation. Physically, the Zoomans even subsist on a different diet. And yet, Steven and Greg eat the food easily. That’s Homeworld’s reverse-engineering organic food like fruits. 

And they’ve never felt physical pain. Like, everyone is barefoot and walking on the ground, but I doubt the ground has anything that can actually injure them. One thing that interests me about the selective breeding aspect, is that Homeworld probably has records of them. The selective breeding may be such that it maximises genetic diversity or minimises congenital defects. 

In fact, having a species so separated for so many years, it would be interesting to ask whether they were still considered “human beings” in the way we see ourselves. Their physical makeup may appear the same, but physiologically, they might have faster metabolisms (judging by the length of a “day” in the Zoo) and different base inclinations.

Taking it further, in another few centuries, they might be considered a new branch off the genetic tree. 

Tutor Me? ReggiexReader! Part 1

Hey guys, so here is part 1 of my mini fic. So this part is probably pretty boring, but I wanted to just kinda set the story up! Pleaaaaase leave feedback in my ask and let me know if you want part 2 or if this part is just too shit. Thanks darls. 

PART 2 HERE.

PART 3 HERE.

EPILOGUE (SMUT) HERE.

Originally posted by ryan-coogler

(gif isn’t mine!)


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One of the most important things I have learned since I started working is that it’s okay to not know things. This was really surprising for me because in uni I always felt like I should already know everything - if a professor mentioned something they were not teaching in that course I mostly didn’t ask since I thought it was a prerequisite.

At work, no one cares. Or rather, everyone knows that you can’t know everything because there are SO MANY tools and frameworks and methods of doing stuff that you can’t possibly know them all. Especially if you’re fresh out of uni/college! Man, programming at uni and actually building software in the industry are so vastly different, it’s like learning to program all over again. And your colleagues know that you didn’t use Tomcat or Docker or Hibernate or Java EE because why would you? It’s okay!

This is why I don’t hesitate to ask anything, even things that seem to be self-evident to everyone else. Because I’ve never gotten a bad reaction from anyone finding out I didn’t know something. No condescension, no irritation, no confusion. Just explanations in a reasonable tone of voice in a way I could understand. So don’t be afraid, it might take some getting used to but this way you’ll learn so much and will be a lot more relaxed.
(That’s not to say I don’t have any problems at work or that there is no awkwardness. The social and organisational stuff is not as easy, but I never feel bad asking about technical stuff.)

I know a lot of people don’t like Archie but...

I was so moved by the evident frustration he felt when he was pounding the ice to get Cheryl out. We’d seen him vent to his dad that so much crap was happening to the people around him and he felt helpless. He wanted to do something. He wanted to make a difference. And when Cheryl ‘came back to life’, he smiled because he felt like he had done something right; he had made a difference.


Also, fuck you Hermione. You see a vulnerable helpless CHILD that’s been through hell and the only thing you can say is “what is she doing here”. Mother of the year eh???

Dean’s Flannel

Originally posted by demondetoxmanual

Summary: Flannel is a standard in the hunting world but it slowly becomes something more for Dean and the reader…

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 1,300ish

Warnings: language, implied smut

A/N: Written for @thing-you-do-with-that-thing ‘s Favorite Things Challenge. My prompt was “Flannel”…


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