nobody need me

the princess stayed in the tower and read books about better girls, where their hands learned how to hold swords, where they rode in on horses. i gave her books as often as i could. she devoured them.

her princes saw her and pretended to be scared off by dragons. got too lost in the thicket. didn’t want to handle it.

“tell me what it’s like, out there,” she whispers to me for the millionth time. i take her from The Throne into her bed, tucking her in and making sure her feet are covered. 

“boring without you” i say as always, “but i did bring back a great story.”

i tell her about how the stars change beyond the equator. how there are places it looks like there are twin suns. how the desert crawls into you but so does snow. i talk about the taste of fruit and promise to bring her back some. she falls asleep while i murmur about rivers, and then in the morning i bring her from bed to Throne, even though she can do it on her own. sometimes she likes help, is all, and i’m happy to give it. 

she doesn’t want help getting dressed. the men come for me, blindfold masters i have almost befriended. the path we take away from her is always different, carefully manufactured so i don’t know exactly where she’s located. after all, a lady might get ideas about things.

they let me go in the queen’s room. i report findings, ask for fruit in the next week’s supplies, am told not to spoil the princess, that she must be kind and waifish and wanting when the prince comes. i spend an hour suggesting that fruit might turn the blood sweeter and am allowed six oranges.

in the next week, she marvels over them. turns them in her calloused hands. smells them. holds them until she can’t control her curiosity, devours them. i bring her books about rivers. i bring her books about deserts. 

“when is our birthday?” she asks me tonight. i’m knitting her a scarf for it.

“soon,” i tell her, “i’ll come by.”

she rolls onto one side, looks up at me in the dimming light. “I’m glad they chose you to be mine,” she says, and i drop a stitch. my heart sings against the inside of my wrists. i blow out a candle so she can’t see the blush and i can’t see her lips. i know what she means, i say. i know what she means.

it’s twenty-three for both of us. i bring her a cake we both eat, her on her throne and me on the floor. i am in the middle of laughing when she falls silent in the still night. “nobody else ever comes for me,” she whispers. i say nothing.

we have more cake, we go to sleep. i don’t know if she knows i’m awake, but i hear her crying.

the men come, the men take me. the one that smells like cedar always laughs at my jokes. the queen half-hates me because i remind her of “that nasty thing” they forced on their daughter. 

“the left wheel needs oil,” i mention, “she’s having trouble turning again.”

the queen’s nose goes up. she never reacts when i mention her daughter’s wheelchair by name - doesn’t find it funny we call it a throne, thinks it’s well enough to leave alone.

“well, she’ll have a prince in this next month coming for her,” says the queen, “i’ve arranged it all,” says the queen, “he’s … had the situation explained to him first this time. i thought it would be best,” says the queen. “we’re paying him…. quite a lot for his effort,” says the queen.

situation. she means that her daughter can’t walk very far. she means the situation of towers. i excuse myself. i find my girl books about turning down marriage. i’m not sure why. it’s all she’s ever wanted.

they blindfold me and take me. cedar laughs at my jokes. the sawdust one is here this time, even he chuckles at a few. we ride horses through places i’ll never see clearly. 

“so according to the queen this is the last time i’m needed, huh?” i ask them as they walk me blindly up too many stairs for my girl to make it down, “i’m sorry i never made your acquaintance.”

cedar laughs. he takes off my blindfold and for a second, lets me see his face. “it’s been an honor,” he says, shaking my hand, “you’ve been a perfect lady.”

i spend the day with my princess pretending i am not peeling apart from my bones. i just want her to be happy. to get to come home. 

it’s late. “do you think in a past life i was a mermaid?” she asks.

“almost definitely,” i tell her. 

it’s quiet for a while after. “what if,” she whispers, “i don’t want to leave?”

i sit up and look at her from across the room. 

“it’s just,” she says, “i have you here and all the books i need and nobody makes me walk too long and i don’t feel like… like i’m wrong here.”

i want to tell her she’s never been wrong. that she’s always fit into my heart like a puzzle piece. that, more importantly, the leadership i see in her glows like a fire - that, no matter her body, she’s always been kind and gentle and smart and sweet. a princess that could bring a nation to her feet and do so lovingly.

“it will be okay,” i say, “there’s more fruit to discover.”

she doesn’t say anything. i think i’ve ruined something by accident, but i don’t know what. i don’t really sleep. i don’t say anything when the men come take me.

the world outside without her is boring. no mermaids. i put my hand in a river once a day, just thinking about her. 

two weeks later i am awoken by my name, and a voice i recognize perfectly. cedar stands above me in the darkness. “i know two things in this world,” he says to me, “and one of them is about love.”

this time we make the trip without blindfolds. i see the squalor they keep her in. i see the waste surrounding her castle, the terrible place she’s in. rage fuels my footsteps even when they start flagging. 

the prince is already there. he has dropped her twice, cedar tells me. i am already running up the stairs even though i can barely breathe. i hear her crying through the door and i don’t need to get ready - the fire that starts in me burns so brightly.

i roar inside. turn dragon and beat back prince with girl made rage. the bruises on her body turn me into giant snake. i eat the man alive, or at least i chase him from the place, never to be seen again. later i will hear a rumor about a demon that stole the princess from him.

she cries into my arms. i take her down every single stair. i hear her murmur her thanks into my hair and then i kiss her, because i can’t handle it, because i have places to show her and she has my heart to lead.

my house isn’t much but it’s near a river. she likes putting her hands into it. i take her places when she is able, and otherwise i bring the places back. we read books together. cedar no longer works for the queen, but he’d rather live with the man of sawdust making tiny wooden figurines.

i lie in bed next to her, stroking her soft hair. “do you think i was a centaur in a past life?” she asks.

“definitely,” i tell her, and kiss her, gently. she holds my face and pulls herself closer to me.

“will i be a good queen? i mean, in this life?”

“i’m certain of it,” i reply. i can hear the truth ring in it. the bone-deep certainty.

she’s quiet for a moment. “you saved me,” she whispers, “and usually we’d end up married. but…”

i don’t know how to answer that. i feel ice down my spine suddenly.

“i’m not demanding, is all,” her voice shakes, “i’m asking this time. for you to choose me. for me to be yours, i mean. and for you to be mine. permanently.”

the next birthday we celebrate, we are both queens.

Join me in AU Territory for a few minutes, okay?

a.  So Obi Wan Kenobi basically ends up going, “NOPE. FUCK THIS NOISE.” and decides to raise baby Luke Skywalker himself.

(He’s not a true Jedi anymore; not when he can see all the mistakes he’s made with Anakin in full, excruciating detail.  Not when those closely held values of detachment and denial of emotions have led to fire and death and grief and…

No.  He will not turn.  He might not be a perfect Jedi, but he won’t turn to the Dark Side.)

b.  So he loves Luke with all his heart and baby Luke is basically the teeniest, most adorable ball of sunshine and light and his smiles are a balm on Obi Wan’s broken heart.

c.  Also.  Obi-Wan joins the Rebellion. Because hope doesn’t just lie in Jedi and the Light Side of the Force.   Hope lies in the people who are willing to live and die for their freedom, who are there to resist the Empire and its lies.

d.  Eventually, Obi-Wan finds Rex and Ahsoka and of course, that means baby Luke has more family members who will love him.  Maybe he’s not growing up as royalty the way Leia is, but he is equally treasured and precious to Uncle Rex and Aunt ‘Soka.

(Except Luke calls her Snips - just out of the blue - even though Obi Wan has never told him about this nickname and he doesn’t understand why Aunt ‘Soka suddenly catches him up in her arms and holds him tight tight tight.  He thinks he’s made her sad but Aunt ‘Soka tells him she can be his Aunt Snips and thus, Aunt Snips she became.)

e.  Obi Wan does not want to put the burden of stopping Vader on Luke’s shoulders.  It is monstrously unfair and neither Luke nor Leia should be burdened with the task of repairing their father’s mistakes.  This was Obi-Wan’s failure and it is his job to make it right.

f.  Vader chases after Obi-Wan’s ghost in various Rebel skirmishes - Jedi who mysteriously disappear and escape his finest soldiers,. Imperial shipyards being sabotaged, the best scientists of the Empire making successful defections.  He is always just one step behind, just one moment too late.  Vader’s rage knows no bounds.

(Vader never sees or hears about the child in Obi-Wan’s care.  His heart has already been buried in the royal tombs of Naboo, where Padme Amidala lies in her forever sleep.)

g.  There is a holo of little Luke and little Jyn Erso playing together.  Jyn has not smiled in months as her father and mother have desperately tried to flee the Empire, so that they would not be forced to keep working on its latest monstrosity.  It is Luke who has made her laugh again for the first time as they ran and chased each other.

h.  Luke’s first friend, first crush and his idol is the dashing Cassian Andor.

i.  Obi Wan finds healing and a new outlook/philosophy on the Force when he becomes friends with Chirrut Imwe and Baze Malbus.  He and Luke make the pilgrimage to the Holy City of Jeddah and while Luke is too young to understand, the ruins of its ancient temple make the child “feel good.”  For Obi-Wan, it is a peace he’s not felt in years. 

j.  Some things are still meant to happen.  Obi-Wan and Vader clash over the years but each duel is inconclusive and both men walk away alive.  It takes years for the Rebel Alliance to gain steam.  Galen Erso still falls into the hands of the Empire.  The pilot Bodhi Rook still defects to the Rebels.  Jyn Erso and Cassian Andor still lead a desperate group to Shariff to retrieve the Death Star plans.

k.  The difference is that Luke Skywalker defies his somewhat overprotective Uncle Ben, having stolen a ship to Shariff to rescue all of his friends.  They barely make it off planet as the Death Star blows up its Imperial base, but Luke’s gotten to be a very good pilot and will spend his downtime happily chatting away with Bodhi Rook.    

l.  Baze spends a few minutes yelling at Chirrut for having the “suicidal tendencies of an Alderaanian lemmingray” before kissing him stupid and it is the first good laugh that Rogue One has, even as they are all safe and sound and alive.

m.  Luke grins even though he knows he’s in deep trouble with Uncle Ben.  There is a transmission from him - Darth Vader is now in hot pursuit of those lost plans and he is chasing after the Tantive IV.  They will all rendezvous with Princess Leia on Tatooine. 

It begins.  A long, long time ago in a galaxy far, far away…  

Sorry if you anticipated but I didn’t draw anything for Namjoon’s birthday. A lot of ppl loved my Jk comic and I felt a lot of pressure, I didn’t have any ideas and I was scared to disappoint someone.


But its mainly because I’m a bit done with the competitiveness in the fandom. I feel like this days it’s more about who will draw faster and who will get more attention. And this affects me a lot because I’m really not a competitive person, I hate the competition. I don’t want to draw something because I want my drawings to be the best or idk. I just want to draw because it makes people happy, myself included. I don’t care if I’m popular or not, I just want to make things that I like whenever I want.

Maybe I’m the only one who feel this way but I just wanted to talk about this stuff. Now that I figured out I’m feeling way better! Thank you for being so kind to me💘💘

somethingofavoid  asked:

could you point me in the direction of the evidence that alexander the great was a bottom? I absolutely don't doubt it's true but I've never seen anyone say otherwise so I figure there's some proof of some sort I'm missing, but couldn't find anything myself

you didn’t find anything because there is no proof, and in fact, the sources tell us the precise opposite. so why did i say he bottomed in my joke post? let’s get into it.

A (SIMPLIFIED) PRIMER: in ancient old mediterranean times it didn’t matter if you were a man who boned men or women – you should probs do both – but what mattered VERY much was whether you topped or bottomed. are you old enough to have a beard? now you’re too old to bottom. pederasty was the name of the game in the south (think athens) especially. if macedon followed these same sexual mores, we can’t be sure, tho they were likely similar. 

now that you know this, take note that hephaestion was actually older than alexander, taller, and more masculine and impressive-looking. according to the above – that’s called the dover model – it should be a given that hephaestion topped, right? or that they didn’t have a relationship at all, considering they were so close in age, and the dover model mandates a big age difference. then why do i have in my pocket two handy examples of hephaestion being identified not only as the bottom but as younger than alexander? observe:

• justin refers to hephaestion as “puer” (”boy” but with connotations in this context of “young pretty bottom boy”) 
• arrian refers to hephaestion as alexander’s “ἐρώμενος” (i.e. alexander’s beardless younger bottom) 

weird, right? we could take this at face value, discounting all that we factually know about hephaestion, or we could take a look at how romans of the late republic/early principate – when these biographies were penned – viewed sexuality in their own society, and how that may have influenced the way they interpreted alexander and hephaestion.

late republic/early principate sexual mores were a bit different from classical greek mores in that, simplified version, the socially superior partner had to top, and the supremely socially inferior – like a slave or a woman – was to bottom. hephaestion was second man in the empire with a massive presence in court; importantly, he was free-born. if alexander and hephaestion had a sexual relationship, which the roman biographers were fairly certain they did, that meant to the romans that hephaestion was either sleeping his way to the top (a common late republic sentiment – cicero used it against antony, like, hourly) which is very not befitting for, you know, the top general in the empire, or – worse – that alexander was a tyrant who was raping his second in command, and hephaestion wasn’t man enough to fight back against it. yikes. even worse option than that to the romans? alexander, king of kings, was taking the d from someone below his status. no matter what the evidence said – like hephaestion’s age and physicality and what we know about alexander’s personality, which i’ll get to in a minute – that was literally unthinkable. 

so the principate biographers lied. yep. in order to better mould hephaestion to their worldview, some bent the history so that hephaestion was younger and prettier (justin), or just plain unimportant enough that being alexander’s ἐρώμενος was socially acceptable (arrian). some laid into the nepotism angle even if they didn’t explicitly state fucking as the cause of it (plutarch). 

take-home message? history is malleable: like a memory, it never remains whole and accurate. the more often we pull it from the shelf, the more often it gets rewritten. 

idk, oprah. proof isn’t a thing that really exists for this period. but now that we know the roman histories are sometimes fake news, here’s some stuff supporting alexander bottoming: 

good evidence: historiography & the dover model

• what the romans had to say about hephaestion and alexander’s relationship is lowkey lies, so even tho we can’t definitively say hephaestion topped, we know that pretty much all evidence that hephaestion bottomed is not legitimate. that means the opposite could be true.

• alexander was younger than hephaestion, infamously remained beardless, and was physically smaller, which means that if macedonians followed southern sexual mores, and if alexander and hephaestion in particular even cared about bringing social politics into the bedroom (see how many variables?) then alexander would’ve bottomed 

pretty okay evidence: character extrapolation 

• i’ve had a prof bring up in class the fact that alexander was too soft for his parents, who worried he was effeminate, which we can safely interpret as “worried he was a bottom” – playing the lyre, not wanting to get it on with anyone in a way befitting a red-blooded macedonian guy, sleeping with the iliad under his pillow, other assorted twink activities. from his annoying high-pitched voice to the fact that he started dressing persian – seen as effeminate to macedonians – it’s pretty much accepted that he was an effeminate dude in his day. not conclusive, definitely problematic as being indicative of sexual position preference, but it is an argument i have seen.

not-really evidence but a component relevant to our discussion of the insidious crawl of unintentional historiography: 

• mary renault ran amok with the bottom/top thing in her books and made alexander finally topping and becoming a “man” into a whole arc in the persian boy, and it’s a fairly pervasive narrative in historical fiction that he’s a somewhat effeminate bottom. this isn’t historical evidence, but it shows how the narrative shifts – this interpretation, so widely distributed in fiction, is now undeniably present in our shared consciousness. (my joke post, which was geared toward an audience of like literally one person, was more about this.)

a final note is that people are just people, and we tend to forget that when we get so caught up in how fun it is to study ancient cultures. but at the end of the day, no matter the mores of their location and period, people are gonna fuck how they want, where they want, who they want, and when they want. like any other pair of young guys getting it on, i’d bet you ten bucks, realistically, that they switched. 

(source 1)
(source 2

why must we argue over who the best LI is for shepard when obviously?? the only important ship is shepard x happiness

so i never really trust anyone around me. because one second you’d feel like they’re the one who cares the most about you, then the other second you felt like nothing to them.

and even i feel so distant to my family. they ignored me too much, and now when they try to get closer, i push them away. i sealed myself from the outside world.

i’ve always feel so lonely. so empty. i dont let people see what’s behind these walls, but i want to see someone trying,

i want someone who is willing to fight for me

someone who spends their time wondering am i doing fine

someone who will be there to listen to my 3am thoughts

someone who would always check up on me

someone who’d tell me how much i meant to them, that the more i hold my shield, the more they will try to see what’s behind it


i want to see someone giving all their effort for me. don’t give up on me. i just want to feel the feeling of being wanted.

—  via (born-in-badlands)

anonymous asked:

okay hear me out: (1/2) after the Avengers are pardoned "everything goes back to normal", Tony is still a ball of anxiety, still doesn't believe in himself tho. And then The Avengers meet with the public, and someone comes over to Tony to talk to him, and they start crying (they way people do when meeting their idols sometime) they tell him how happy they are to meet him, how much they love him and look up to him, how Tony changed their life with all the good things he's done

(2/2) and generally they are just really emotional, and Tony is so stunned, and so touched at the same time. But then Clint and Steve decide to ruin the moment with “wow Stark, you’ve already managed to make someone cry?” and “I’m sorry about him [Tony], can we do something?” respectively. Tony is already shrinking in on himself, but then, unexpectedly this little person Tony was talking to starts to defend him. Their raised voice makes Peter come over. He realizes what’s happening and joins.


The girl looks a bit like a doll with those huge blue eyes and pretty, golden locks. She’s also crying. Which doesn’t make Tony panic at all, or so he tries to convince himself. It’s just, he’s not very good at comforting people. He’s absolutely awful at comforting kids.

And sure, he knew this whole meet-and-greet was a terrible idea, but he didn’t exactly expect people to break down at the sight of him? The kid’s outright sobbing, trying to get a word out but it’s incomprehensible and–Tony repeats, he’s not panicking. He’s just fighting the very strong urge to call the suit and get the fuck out of here, never to be seen again. He’s fine.

“I’m so-sorry,” the girl hiccups, “I’m just–you’re here and–I know this sounds stupid but you were just so, so, so important, you literally saved my friend’s life, you know, you made her so happy and you’re here now and it’s just, I promised I wouldn’t do this but you changed so much for her, for us, and I didn’t even, you’re my favourite hero Mr Stark and I don’t even know how to thank you!”

The more the girl talks, the faster the words seem to come, and it takes Tony along moment to catch up with what she’s saying and process the meaning behind it. Which. Is good?

It’s a little hard to believe that, because there are still tears running down her cheeks, though she’s wiping them away now, clearly embarrassed. Tony can’t help but smile at her, a bit tentatively perhaps, but genuine. She’s looking at him so–so–foreign, and it makes Tony want to hug her.

“Wow Stark, you’ve already managed to make someone cry?” sounds Clint derisively from behind before he has managed to come up with a reply. “We’ve only been here for seven minutes.” Clint sounds amused, but not in the easy-going, friendly way, and Tony tenses again.

“I’m sorry about him,” Steve speaks up from Tony’s other side, voice apologetic, “Can we do something?”

He’s not even looking at Tony but it still takes all of Tony’s willpower not to flinch. Being bracketed between the two men who are definitely not friends anymore, gives Tony all sorts of chills. He’s barely keeping it together as it is, what with all these publicity stunts lately to prove how well things are going in the team–when really, there is no team–he doesn’t need this shit on top of it.

The girl has stopped crying at least, is staring at Steve with narrowed eyes instead. Tony feels a stab of petty vindication that this kid at least isn’t falling over herself to greet the returned hero.

“Yes, you can, sir.” The girl says far more assertive than when she’d been talking with Tony. “You can back away and return to greeting your own fans because I really don’t appreciate your tone.”

She’s got her arms folded in front of her chest and stares at the three baffled men in front of her expectantly. Tony snorts. He can’t help it.

He does it again when she turns her head and winks at him.

“What’s going on?” Spiderman asks cheerfully as he bounces over to join their group.

Tony suppresses an eye roll. Of course Spidey comes over. That kid can smell trouble like the best of them, and he’s even worse than Tony at keeping his nose out of it.

“You’re Spiderman!” the girl exclaims excitedly, then immediately blushes and averts her eyes. “I was just, thanking Mr Stark here for being such an amazing person. He really helped a friend of mine go through a rough time, you know?” she peers up at them from underneath her lashes.

Then she frowns.

“I’m not sure what they’re doing here, to be honest,” she gestures dismissively at Steve and Clint. “But they’ll catch a clue eventually. I hope.”

Spiderman chokes on a laugh. “I like you!” he exclaims and drags the girl away, one arm slung casually over her shoulder. She lets him, just turns around to wave Tony goodbye with a bright smile that Tony can’t help but return.

Steve and Clint watch the two disappear into the crowd with growing apprehension. 

Nothing good can come of this

10

how to be a very cute little duckling as performed by kim namjoon