one more because of reasons

2

next in the psych gem au, gus! (here’s shawn + context)

he came out of the ground shortly before homeworld’s discovery of earth, and then quickly rose to stature from his success in the courtroom. as an era 1 zircon he had much more innate ability than later zircons, and was able to keep evidence and records in his gem without the use of added technology. 

during the beginnings of the gem rebellion especially, he served as both prosecution and defense for a great number of cases, some of which took place in front of the diamonds themselves. 

for a couple thousand years he worked toward aristocratic treatment and actually got relatively close to being granted his own pearl - but he wouldn’t have wanted it, and thanks to a certain rebellious sapphire he was meant to defend, he realized that he wanted NONE of it.

that sapphire (shawn) convinced him to fuse and escape to earth, at which he was thrust head-first into the revolution and embraced it. only after spending time on earth did he discover his thermokinesis, as he’d had no use for it before.

even thousands of years later, he prefers a neat, symmetrical aesthetic. but he of course still indulges in more human-like pleasures with shawn. especially eating.

The moment in Wonder Woman with the glasses had me cracking up for more than one reason. First of all, because Steve is like, “She’s still too distracting. Here,” and has Diana put on the glasses and then Etta goes, “Ah right, the specs. Put them on and suddenly she’s no longer the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen.” Then Diana looks in the mirror and seems to like the glasses. So the scene is funny in and of itself but it’s also a slight dig at Superman and Supergirl and their ridiculous glasses disguises hahaha.

10

MY TOP 10 QUEEN CONSORTS OF SCOTLAND & ENGLAND (11-16TH CENTURY)

Margaret of Wessex, Queen of Scotland (1070-1093) • Matilda of Scotland, Queen of England (1100-1118) • Eleanor of Aquitaine, Queen of England (1154-1189) • Margaret of England, Queen of Scotland (1251-1275) • Philippa of Hainault, Queen of England (1328-1369) • Joan Beaufort, Queen of Scotland (1424-1437) • Elizabeth Woodville, Queen of England (1464-1483) • Elizabeth of York, Queen of England (1486-1503) • Margaret Tudor, Queen of Scotland (1503-1513) • Anne Boleyn, Queen of England (1533-1536)

8

Q: Can we talk baby goats and how that completely blew up?  How everyone loves you holding baby goats in the show?

Travis Fimmel: Oh, did they really?  Oh, that’s funny.  I don’t know if I’ve held a goat.  I held a lamb one time, it was a lamb.  I dunno, I just walked past and I grabbed one.  I needed something to hold because the two girls sitting next to me weren’t very happy with me.  It got comforting that way.

(long post, sorry)

In spite of everything I love Harley Quinn but, damn, writers treat her so badly. I swear, the temptation to make her actually stupid must be terrible because it’s so often implied, or explicitly stated, that she slept her way through school. First of all, it does not work like that.  Second, she’s not a therapist or a psychologist, she’s a psychiatrist, she’s a fricking MD and a damn young one too. Managing pre-med and collegiate gymnastics that she relied on to keep her scholarship? Harley is fucked up, but she’s not the dumb blonde she plays. (also stop making her stacked, she’s a gymnast. she is 4’11” of pure muscle and is not top heavy)

If you want a good Harley backstory it’s simple. She’s ADHD but medicated and slightly robotic because of it. I want to take special care not to demonize meds but, rather, people’s disapproval of neurodivergence and a lack of focus on what is best for a patient rather than what is most convenient for others. So, maybe, around ten years old Harley is a hyperactive space cadet who’s brilliant at tests but sloppy at coursework, who would be a gymnastics prodigy if she could actually focus on technique and put in practice time instead of fooling around. Then the meds come and it’s actually really cool because she can do the things she needs to do instead of just wanting to do them, doing something else entirely, and getting in trouble. People are proud of her, she’s proud of herself. But now there are expectations. Family and teachers and coaches overschedule her, find worth only in her success and don’t care about her mental health at all as long as she’s performing and castigate her when she does fail. Fuck if you don’t internalize that. But she doesn’t look unhealthy and she’s doing amazing. She actually has to choose between the Olympic trials and continuing her grad studies. She probably has some issues with self-harm but it either doesn’t look like self-harm or is well covered up. 

When Arkham accepts her, fresh from her residency, it’s not a mistake. The woman is amazing. All they can see is a mountain of achievements rather than the seething ball of nerves, self-loathing, and imposter syndrome boiling just under the surface. That’s when Joker comes in. He’s got the Hannibal Lecter shtick down. Where everyone else sees an intelligent driven young woman he sees a frightened overwhelmed girl who is working her hardest to convince the world she’s anyone other than herself. Sending her into a nervous breakdown would be too easy so he doesn’t even bother. Instead he’s open with her, almost friendly. The other doctors are amazed, Harley is amazed, she’s not done anything particularly revolutionary but, for the first time in forever, it looks like the clown prince of crime is showing progress. He unravels her and it’s a challenge, she flinches back and gets very serious when he comes too close to the real Harley under the professional. Still, soon she’s questioning everything. She doesn’t even really like her co-workers. She hasn’t had a real friend in years. She’s forgotten how to have fun. Did she ever want this to be her life or did she just do it for other people? It starts so slowly that it looks, at first, like she’s getting better at self-care. Maybe something totally silly one weekend, a trampoline park where she can enjoy the way her toned body moves without stressing out over landings, a face painting booth at a street fair, some garishly colored downright tacky decoration that clashes with her sensible apartment. Suddenly she realizes how much she hates knowing the difference between cream and ecru. The beigeness of her life is repulsive. She hates the person she’s pretending to be even more that she hates herself which is really saying something.

After her weekend of freedom she would have called in sick if it wasn’t so suddenly important to see him. The relief she feels at talking to one of Gotham’s most infamous supercriminals is disturbing but it is relief and she’s been swallowing a slow-motion panic attack for hours. She admits, though she shouldn’t, that she took his advice about doing something fun and he teases her, what would straight-laced Doctor Quinzel do for fun? Did she realphabetize her sock drawer or buy a new clipboard? It’s not important to impress him, it’s really not. He’s dangerous, cruel, and he looks so proud when she admits that she bought a lamp shaped like a lawn flamingo. The only mistake, he says, is that she should have stolen it. She hopes the wicked thrill it gives her doesn’t show on her face. It does. She almost even laughs. He likes it when he can make her laugh and she likes it when he likes things.

It’s wrong and unprofessional, the relationship she develops, and she knows it but her whole life she’s been so high strung. Nothing she’s done has been for her, she’s not sure she knows how to really do selfish things anymore, but he knows the selfish things she needs to do. It feels good when she follows his advice even when it’s small things like the rainbow striped socks she wears concealed under her very bland slacks and sensible shoes. She’s so happy, almost giddy, and he loves her happiness, he loves her, he loves the real her that she’s had to beat down and hide for so long, the her that even she isn’t able to love. She is able to love him, though, and since he loves her she’s able to love herself for him, to protect and nurture something so important to him.

When the choice comes between her old self, the tedious endless labor of making the world proud, and Him, the spectacular man that brought color into her life, it’s not even a question. She kills Doctor Harleen Quinzel, she throws away the version of her that let herself burn just for medals and hollow accolades. She embraces Harley Quinn and it’s so much a part of her nature she can’t even see that she’s still living her life for someone else’s approval, except this time that person is a murderous clown. She hasn’t let her hair down, she’s just put it in pigtails instead of a bun.

I was talking to my mum once about why she thought homosexuality was wrong/a choice and she told me that it was partially because the bible says that “confusion comes from the devil” and that whenever she heard LGBTQ people talk about their experiences with figuring their sexuality out, they said they were confused at some point. 

At the time, I didn’t know what to say to that. I had only recently come out to her, and I was still trying to find the best way to explain everything. But now I realize just how fucked up that statement is, because the confusion doesn’t come from liking someone of the same gender, it comes from adults demonizing that attraction. 

If a kid grows up in a household where being gay/bi/pan/etc. is normalized, then if they ever feel attracted to the same gender, or more than one gender, there isn’t any reason to be confused, because they haven’t been told that it is wrong. When I figured out that I liked both boys and girls, I was confused because I had been lead to believe that only one of those attractions was valid and that I wasn’t supposed to feel the other one. And when the feelings wouldn’t go away, I felt lost because it was supposed to be a choice. 

LGBTQ kids feeling confused has nothing to do with the devil, it has to do with society telling us that who we are is a mistake and that our feelings are possible to ignore/avoid.

How else can I say it
but like this?
Like a fever, I burned
and then broke.


How else can I say it
but like this?
Like the dawn, I broke
and then rose.

—  nathaniel orion g. k.
8

…I wonder if that was actually a good decision to make there, Kuroo

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A big angel with his beautiful smol angel. 

I swear I’m doing the devil’s work here since there still isn’t enough deckerstar fanart for my liking. I shall make more until more artists do the same. 

3

All’s fair in friendship and espionage.

more fun taz animations! still getting the hang of looping them in just 24 frames

“lets make headcanons that ‘fix’ the sexism of the sixties" 

or lets not in case they get popular and people new to the fandom confuse your headcanon for irl canon, and instead lets openly talk about the sexism, racism, homophobia, transphobia, and all the other bigotry ingrained into the show because of the time period and environment it was written in, ya know, like adults.

like, stop fucking ignoring the problems and actively address them. Especially in a show that is ABOUT moving beyond and learning from our bigotry and prejudice, actively criticizing it can help future series or movies also learn from the problems and fix them.

in s3 noora was the mirror.  noora, in this season more like an antithesis to sana. more accurately an aesthetic antithesis to sana.  sana and noora are very similar in character and values. noora doesn’t drink, she isn’t into hooking up. she like sana is different from the squad. but and big but here noora looks like norske partyjenter therefore she is accepted. this season we have seen people like elias and the pepsi max say that sana can’t be included in a norwegian cultural coming of age mile stone while asking after noora which just highlights to the audience that it’s not sana’s values but sana as a symbol of her faith that they have problem with. i guess what i am trying to say is that noora highlights the power of privilege

Sam was raised the exact same way as Dean with the exact same shitty parent and yet he has some tact and compassion. 

Saw this quote on a post, expressing something I’ve seen before about the differences between Sam and Dean, which (putting aside the suggestion that Dean has no compassion, which, bwuh?) is missing a major point about their respective upbringings.

Yes, Sam & Dean were both raised by John, but they had quite different childhoods. Case in point, compare the flashbacks in “Something Wicked” (with nine-year-old Dean) with “Just My Imagination” (with nine-year-old Sam.)

Sam, at nine, is being left alone in a cheap motel room. He has to feed himself and entertain himself. (He happens to get some help with that thanks to a friendly Zanna, but John had no way of knowing this.) Sam does get calls from Dean checking on how he’s doing, but even so, he’s NINE – it’s a clear case of neglect and it’s terrible. It also sets firm personality traits in Sam – primarily, that he learns he is responsible for seeking his own happiness (though his brother will try to support him in it, doing what he can to help Sam get what he wants.)

Dean, at nine, is being left alone in an even cheaper motel room. He has to feed himself, but before that he has to feed and entertain his five-year-old brother. He gets no supernatural help and no regular check-in calls, that we see. He tries to entertain himself, but an innocuous pastime as going to an arcade nearly gets Sam killed. Dean learns that he is responsible for someone else’s life, and that seeking his own happiness is not only inconsequential but actively harmful, that it lets down the people he loves.

This is not to say that Sam wasn’t neglected or that his childhood wasn’t terrible. He most definitely was, and it was. But if Sam is better adjusted than Dean, if Sam is better at showing tact and compassion, it’s not solely because he’s a naturally better person than Dean; it’s because Dean is a better parental figure than John is.

Update

Hi everyone, long time no see.

It’s been a long year. A lot of things have changed and I think it’s time I talk about something important. This Update has to do a little with the blog and a lot with me, so if you want to skip the rest of this you absolutely can, this is just something that has been on my mind for a while and pushing to be said. This seems like the best time to say it and I’m sorry if it gets a little long and a lot personal.

Keep reading

This has been on my mind for a long time.

It doesn’t apply to any one person in particular, it applies to multiple people.

I don’t trust people any more. I just don’t, and one of the main reasons is because I’ve had far too many people just disappear from my life without warning or ever giving closure. People who were best friends, people who were collaborating with me on stories and projects, people who I once would do practically ANYTHING for to make sure they were happy and well…

We just stop talking for some unknown reason, weeks turn to months, months turn to years. I get too nervous to attempt contact because I fear the conversation is just going to be awkward small talk which is absolute hell when it’s with someone you once shared everything with, that or I just can’t bring myself to ask “Hey so, is this thing over?”

I can’t count the number of projects I’ve had to abandon simply because the other person quit without telling me or just simply disappeared.

And it hurts so much because I love the projects that I work on, and when someone was there who made a huge impact on that project just stops being there, how can I possibly continue? I don’t want to ruin what we already had, I don’t have the heart to find a replacement when I’m not even sure if you’ll ever plan on coming back or not.

We might not have even been on a project together, maybe we were just super close.

I had a lot of close friends in high school, but after I moved away we just stopped talking. I thought me coming back to Oregon would fix this but it seems too late now, the damage was done and there’s no reconnecting left to be had.

And I’m never sure if it was me, or them, or maybe both. If I stopped being interesting, if there was something wrong with me, if I just didn’t try hard enough to keep contact, if that person found better friends and different interests, I just don’t know.

I’d rather hear “I wont be working on this project any more” or “Yeah we just don’t really connect like we used to” or even “I don’t like you” over this god awful torturous silence.

I don’t know. I don’t know why this happens so often, I wish I did, but I don’t.

And I wish I could trust people like I used to but this hurts me too much to keep making the effort.

I’m not trying to make anyone feel guilty, but rather this is just a cry out for something, ANYTHING to end the never knowing silence. Though I doubt many of the people I’m referring to even follow me any more.