reflection in television

I can’t see very well.
—  Ravenclaw, forgetting to wear their glasses, and flying through a rainstorm.
18 DEEPEST LIFE QUOTES FROM THE GAME OF THRONES

  • Fear cuts deeper than swords.”
  • Once you’ve accepted your flaws, no one can use them against you.
  • “Never forget what you are, for surely the world will not. Make it your strength. Then it can never be your weakness. Armour yourself in it, and it will never be used to hurt you.”
  • “A man who won’t listen can’t hear.”
  • “Chaos isn’t a pit. Chaos is a ladder. Many who try to climb it fail and never get to try again. The fall breaks them. And some are given a chance to climb, but they refuse. They cling to the realm, or the gods, or love. Illusions. Only the ladder is real. The climb is all there is.”
  • “The man who fears losing has already lost.”

  • “Power resides only where men believe it resides. […] A shadow on the wall, yet shadows can kill. And ofttimes a very small man can cast a very large shadow.”
  • The brightest flame casts the darkest shadow.
  • “Different roads sometimes lead to the same castle.”
  • “My old grandmother always used to say, Summer friends will melt away like summer snows, but winter friends are friends forever.”
  • He who hurries through life hurries to his grave.
  • “A lion doesn’t concern itself with the opinion of sheep.” 

  • I swear to you, sitting a throne is a thousand times harder than winning one.”
  • “A bruise is a lesson… and each lesson makes us better.”
  • The greatest fools are often times more clever than the men who laugh at them.”
  • Always keep your foes confused. If they are never certain who you are or what you want, they cannot know what you are like to do next.”
  • “A woman’s life is nine parts mess to one part magic, you’ll learn that soon enough…and the parts that look like magic turn out to be the messiest of all.”
  • “A bruise is a lesson… and each lesson makes us better.”

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Shadowhunters Season 2 Episode 17 Review w/ Matthew Daddario | AfterBuzz TV

anonymous asked:

Have you seen the bold type do you recommend it?

*steps up on soap box* ahem

Why I recommend The Bold Type

I know that a bunch of people have written posts like this, but here’s my iteration, which comes from a place of: 1. Love, 2. being the exact target audience, and 3. watching too many TV shows that don’t give me what I want. The Bold Type, as it turns out, is all about going after what you want. It is about rejecting the societal standard that tells women to become meek in the workplace and, instead, use that standard as a bar over which you can raise yourself and become even better. The Bold Type is along the same vein as the short-lived MTV show Sweet/Vicious— feminism for women, to entertain women, to show women in lights that we are interested in seeing. I think that the success of this show could cause a boom of similar shows— sleek, modern, female-centric. Watching The Bold Type isn’t just about The Bold Type. It’s about supporting the content that we want to see.

There are three main characters— Jane, Kat, and Sutton. All are best friends. All are in different places in their careers. All are successful in their own right. And all work at the fabled Scarlet Magazine, a magazine written by women for women to be their saucy older sister, guiding them through life. Instead of 50 Ways To Please Your Man, it’s 50 Ways To Please Yourself. Instead of Lipsmackers That Will Stay On While You’re Lipsmacking it’s Lipsmackers That Will Stay On While You Take On The World. Their boss, Jacqueline (we’ll get to her later; she’s my favorite character) refers to this as “self-feminism.” Other people are important, absolutely, but make sure you’re taking care of yourself and your needs too when it comes to work, relationships, and sex. Scarlet Magazine is about real women who are motivated, who are struggling, who are successful, who are scared, who are human. It’s a publication that I, personally, would love to read.

Jane works for the writing department. She is a young writer who is thirsty to prove herself, but is also conscious of the fact that she’s low on the totem pole. The pilot begins on her first day as a writer, when you find out that Jane is a smart, capable, confident young woman who was raised on Scarlet Magazine. This is her dream job. She’s organized, thoughtful, and resilient. Although she tends to complain about her assignments, she always comes through and makes them her own.

Kat works in social media— in fact, she’s the head of her department. She tends to see the world through the lens of her camera even when she isn’t working. Kat, by nature of her position, is always on-call. She sees what is beautiful about the world and what is beautiful about people. She also knows, with great clarity, what is important to her, and always fights for these issues— perhaps a little relentlessly. Kat excels at her job, but she doesn’t excel at relationships. She likes “casual,” preferring to have flings. When she meets Adena, a beautiful Muslim lesbian, her idea of relationships and her sexual identity goes out the window. I am looking forward to seeing Kat and Adena’s relationship evolve just as any ol’ heterosexual relationship on television would— full of ups and downs, but also full of love, sex, and moments that just make you hold your breath. Luckily, these two ladies already serving a full course meal.

Sutton is the final female in our group of girls. Undoubtedly the lowest of the three girls on the corporate ladder, Sutton’s reason for that is simple: she didn’t have the socioeconomic privilege that Kat and Jane had been lucky to have, and got off to a more disadvantaged start. Sutton had fought her way to her position tooth-and-nail. And, better yet, she’s damn good at her job. Sutton is the most tenacious character on the show. She’s spent years fighting for herself, and she isn’t about to stop now. The romantic plot-line revolving around Sutton involves her dating a superior in the company, which is normally a story arc that might make me cringe, but Sutton is 25 and Richard is probably in his late-20s, early-30s. There’s lots of respect between the two of them, and their relationship isn’t a conflict of interest because Richard works for the legal department for the company that owns Scarlet. This relationship is adorable, sexy, and Sutton absolutely holds the power in it, meaning that we, as audience members, can root for these two.

The Bold Type shows female friendships exactly the way I know them to be. They love and support each other. They overshare. They talk over each other. They play and tease. They make cultural references in a speedy fashion that temporarily makes you think you’re watching Gilmore Girls. They get selfish. They apologize for being selfish. They fight and make up. They change the direction of their conversations constantly, flashing from topic to topic like strobe lights, showcasing how incredible women are at multi-tasking. It’s the dream female friendship that all of us are desperate for on TV, and no romantic sub-plot is going to tear that down. It’s like Friends without the guys, and as much as I love Chandler, with a show like The Bold Type, I think we can live without him.

Perhaps the best character on The Bold Type is the girls’ boss, Jacqueline. She is the head of Scarlet Magazine; the leader who knows what she wants and knows how to get it. As fearless as she is, she is not to be feared. Jacqueline may be respected, admired, and adhered to by her staff, but if you’re looking for Miranda Priestly, you won’t find her here. Jacqueline cares about facilitating the careers of her employees. She rules her disciples with a firm but fair hand, often giving them more than they deserve. Life is hard, especially for women in the corporate world, and Jacqueline understands that. Her character’s scenes are always an absolute treat— the ones I look forward to the most when I sit down on the couch to watch The Bold Type with a glass of red wine and a feeling of safety on the side. Because I, as a viewer, have learned in just a few episodes (five, to be exact) that these writers are ones that I can trust. They’re speaking using my voice, the voice of my friends, the voice of my peers, the voice of my generation.

Turning your television on to The Bold Type means hearing women discussing issues that are relevant to you. It means being inspired by their tenacity and individual power. It means enjoying an episode full of sumptuous fashion, invigorating music, and a bustling city life. The Bold Type is a show that you can turn on and see yourself reflected in your TV screen— whether it’s your sexual identity, your racial identity, or the personality traits that make you who you are. It’s not that The Bold Type never utilizes tropes, cliches, or predictability. It’s that they do it differently, they do it better, they do it while conscious of what it is and what their show is.  

The Bold Type doesn’t necessarily preach that you a required to live your life boldly. The lesson to learn here is much simpler than that: live. Simply go out and live your life, get what you want, make yourself happy. Stay safe, stay kind, stay supportive, stay healthy, stay loving each other. Perhaps Jacqueline describes this mentality best in her speech in the pilot episode of the show. She says, “I expect you to have adventures. I expect you to fall in love. To get your hearts broken. I expect you to have sex with the wrong people; have sex with the right people. To make mistakes and make amends, take a leap and make a splash. And I expect you to unleash holy hell on anybody who tries to hold you back.”

So you heard her. Let’s go unleash holy hell, ladies.

The Real Man of Steel

Pairing: Clark/Superman x Reader

Request:  Hi, Could you write a Superman smut? Like have it really fluffy at the start. Maybe that Clark is really awkward, so is reader. maybe that reader finds out that he is Superman in this? Maybe while they are having sex and his grip is too strong

Smut: Yes

Words: 2673

Requests are open!

Masterlist

Originally posted by sir-henry-cavill

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Haunting Me (Chap. 8)

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

A/N: I’m sorry for the million year wait, guys! Hopefully the twist at the end makes up for it! I hope you guys like it! - D. 

Warnings: Violence. Kidnapping. Hostage situation. Angsty as heck. Memories of abuse. (If you’re uncomfortable with any of these, keep scrolling.)

Series Masterlist

Bucky’s tired blue eyes focused on the small alarm clock on your nightstand, watching as the numbers slowly flickered on and off.

2:00 PM.

Looking back down at the smart phone in his hand, he felt his brows furrowing with worry. You had mentioned to him that your class would end somewhere around one fifteen, yet you were nowhere to be found. He recalled you explaining that sometimes you’d have to stay an extra five minutes to pack up your easel and set up your work to dry, but even now as he sat on your bed, he began to feel so damn uneasy.

She’s fine. He thought to himself as he stood from the bed and began pacing around your small apartment. Standing in your living room, he glanced back down at the phone in his hand, debating on whether to shoot you another text despite having done so already many times. It just wasn’t like you to not respond to him. He had text you earlier a few seconds after you had stepped outside, asking where the cereal was and you had responded almost instantly. But now, all he got was absence.

He tried watching some movies, specifically the ones you had on your bookshelf just for him. The one about the ogre and donkey nearly had him punching a hole through the screen and of course, the one featuring a dinosaur theme park had his anxiety levels through the roof. No matter how hard he tried to distract himself, that dreadful feeling was still there.

With a distressed sigh, Bucky rested his head against the back of the couch in your living room, staring at his reflection through the darkened television screen. He was probably overreacting reacting, he knew that, but still…something just felt off for some reason he couldn’t put his finger on. Maybe, just maybe, you were running late. It happens, hell, even Steve ran late during mission briefings. He looked down at the phone, feeling it buzzing rapidly in his hand. The sound alone nearly made him jump out of his skin, but as soon as his eyes focused on Steve’s name, he immediately pressed answer.

“Hello?”

Buck!” Steve panted, his breaths coming out in short, ragged huffs. From what Bucky instantly recognized the background noise which heavily resembled the usual New York City rush. Typical Steve.

“Damn it, Steve,” Bucky groaned, sitting forward. “Did Tony kick you out of the tower again?”

As funny as it sounded, it was a regular occurrence. There had been plenty of times Steve had pressed all the wrong buttons when it came to Tony, resulting in the latter throwing Steve out of the tower for a couple of days. Bucky smirked as he remembered the way Tony shouted at Steve after he’d lost a very intense game of monopoly. Those two had the hots for each other, Bucky was sure of it. They just needed to get that sexual tension out.  

“Shmidt had a daughter and she- wait what? Oh, come on! That was two weeks ago!”

Immediately, Bucky’s eyes widened as he processed his friend’s words and he slowly stood from his spot on the couch. With slow, heavy steps, he made his way towards the balcony and gazed out into the city, his heart thumping wildly in his chest. “Steve,” he breathed, his voice shaking slightly. “What did you just say?”

“I said the game was mine fair and squa-”

“Steve!” Immediately the blond ceased his rambling, much to Bucky’s relief. This was urgent.

“Fury called an emergency meeting about two hours ago,” He explained. “Turns out Schmidt has a daughter.”

Bucky gripped the railing tightly, his metal fingers dug into the metallic bar as he desperately tried to calm himself down. Shmidt had a daughter. Flesh and blood with the same mentality as his, but no matter how many times the words rang through his mind, it just didn’t make the slightest bit of sense. What happened in Germany took place over seventy years ago. If he were to somehow have a child, she’d have to be over seventy years old by now. He highly doubted an old lady could cause much damage. But then again, they lived in a world where demi-gods and super soldiers existed, so anything was possible.

Slowly, he began to piece things together.

“A daughter,” Bucky spoke, feeling his chest tightening. Steve hummed in agreement. “Jesus Christ, he had a daughter.”

“Buck,” he replied. “Y/N hasn’t been answering her phone either. Has she called you?”


The sound of metal scraping against metal filled your ears, pulling you out of your slumber and forcing you into consciousness once again. Your eyes fluttered open, trying their best to adjust to the darkened room you were being held in. Your brain fought to register where on earth you were, but failed miserably as soon as you realized you weren’t in your apartment, or even in Stark Tower.

You were in some kind of building. 

At least that’s what you thought. The sound of water was everywhere, filling the entire area with the sound and by looking around at what little light you had, you were in a wide space. The only source of light was coming from above, where the many vents provided small openings for the sun. But the smell -Jesus- you’d have to drench yourself in soap when you got home. If you’d even make it home, that is.

You shivered, realizing that somehow, you had lost your jacket and currently had to face the autumn temperatures in just a plain shirt. You closed your eyes once again, mentally scolding yourself for not wearing layers like Bucky had suggested. You opened your eyes once again and peered up above, hoping to be met with at least one good sight today. But much to your dismay, you were met with the sight of your wrists cuffed to a pipe. Well that’s just peachy.

The sound of metal scraping against metal shook you from your thoughts, causing your heart to thump wildly in your chest as you tried to pinpoint it’s origin, but due to the constant echoing, you couldn’t figure it out for the life of you. 

“Well, well, well,” the soft, feminine voice rung through your ears, snapping your attention away from your wrists. “So you’re the famous Y/N Y/L/N?” 

You watched as the redheaded woman stepped out from the shadows, revealing her heavily scarred face, one that you couldn’t bring yourself to look away from no matter how much your brain screamed at you to. Deep gashes covered her forehead and cheeks, and god, her eyes are what you found most unsettling. Two crimson colored eyes stared back at you, full of something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. An odd mixture of playfulness and hatred, which you knew all to well may have been aimed at you. 

She placed one foot in front of the other, slowly making her way towards you before crouching down, inches away. You swallowed loudly, feeling your body tremble with anxiety. Who the fuck was this woman? And why was she after you? 

“Who are you?” You blurted, your eyes never leaving her crimson ones. The longer you stared, the more you felt yourself growing anxious. 

“Oh, come on, Y/N,” She cocked her head to the side, her thin, red lips curling into a mischievous grin. One that brought a wave of nausea down your body. “You don’t see the family resemblance?” 

You frowned, blinking up at her with a look of pure confusion. She looked like a complete psychopath, one that you highly doubted that you’ve seen before. She grinned wider, her large teeth lining together perfectly. 

“Uh oh, they didn’t tell you much about him, did they?” she asked. You blinked over at her dumbly, earning a small, nasally laugh from her. 

“My name is Sin,” She spoke, her eyes burning directly into yours as she stood, glaring down at you. “But you’ve probably heard of my father, Red Skull.”

Immediately, your mind was full of a million thoughts at once. Shmidt had a daughter. A very psychotic daughter that was prone to kidnapping random women off the street. You knew damn well who her father was and what he did, but you had no idea what it had to do with you. From what you understood, the bad blood was between her and Steve, not you. You let out a loud gulp before looking back into her eyes. 

“What do you want from me?” You expected the words to have some kind of tact, but with each word, your voice shook with fear. 

Sin let out a snarky laugh, one that you had no idea could come from a woman and it shook you to your core. 

“What I want is simple,” She replied.You furrowed your brows. Nothing was simple with this woman, you knew that for sure. She was a fucking mess.

 “I want them to suffer the loss of a loved one. I want you dead.


“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Bucky asked as he peered over Natasha’s shoulder as she typed rapidly onto the laptop. Nat rolled her eyes and ignored him, typing faster and keeping her eyes glued to the screen despite the older man’s constant fidgeting. 

“How long is this going to take you?” He asked, leaning in closer, a bit too close for her liking, yet her green eyes never left the screen. Bucky squinted at the small words and numbers, before looking at Nat once again. With a frustrated sigh, she slammed the laptop closed and stood from the couch before making her way into your bedroom. 

Bucky glanced over at Steve and Sam, who were both preoccupied going through the large stack of classified files they may or may not have stolen from SHIELD. It was risky, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Even if those measures ended up getting them all prison time. Bucky didn’t mind a few years behind bars, he just needed you home safe and he was willing to do whatever it took to get you back. 

“Will somebody please explain why we’re still here?” He snapped, running his hands through his hair. “Why aren’t we out there searching for Y/N? She could be in pain, or worse.

Sam let out a loud snort as he looked through the current file in his hand, not bothering to even look up from his work. Steve, however, gave his friend a pitiful look, one that Bucky had seen plenty of times when he voiced his concerns. God, Steve was such a dad sometimes. 

“We’re doing all we can, Buck, it’s gonna take some time.” Steve assured him. “We just need to find some kind of information on this so called Sin.” 

With a defeated sigh, Bucky made his way over to the couch and plopped down on the cushions. This is far from how he imagined this going. 

“You know,” Sam murmured under his breath. “You could get off your lazy ass and help, Tin Man.” 

Bucky’s head snapped in his direction, his eyes narrowing in disbelief. “You wanna run that by me again, Birdbrain?” He spat, standing up from the couch. Sam rolled his eyes and continued to stack file upon file onto the table. 

“I said,” He spoke louder, earning a frustrated sigh from Steve, who rubbed his temples with his fingers. “Instead of sitting on your ass and whining like a pre-teen girl, you could make yourself useful and look, too!”

Bucky gritted his teeth before rushing towards Sam, who stood from his seat quickly and crossed his arms over his chest. Before the prior could do any damage, Steve stepped between the two men and placed his hands on their shoulders, shaking them. 

“Now hold on a second-”

“STEVE!” 

Immediately, the entire room fell silent and the three men turned around to face Nat as she quickly made her way towards the table, setting down the laptop with a triumphant smile. 

“There!” She placed her finger onto the screen. Everyone leaned in close, their eyes widening in surprise as they realized you were closer than they thought. In fact, you were no more than twenty minutes away. 

“No fucking way,” Sam whispered. 

“They’re at the Statue of Liberty?” Bucky questioned, looking over at Nat with a perplexed expression. One which she snorted at before shaking her head and muttering “men” under her breath. 

“No,” she informed. “They’re under it.” 


Your heart thumped wildly in your chest as you stared down at the pitch black abyss beneath you. This was it. This was your end. You were sure of it. It was at least a hundred foot drop onto nothing but pure concrete. Instant death. 

“My, my, my,” Sin cackled as she tugged on the rope, momentarily forcing your feet off the shoulder of Lady Liberty. “Is Ms. Y/L/N afraid of heights?” 

You let out a shriek as you were lifted into the air, wrapping your fingers around the rope that was tied tightly around your wrists. You ignored the burning sensation each time it dug into your skin, far too focused on the hundred foot drop to notice. 

Sin watched you struggle, smiling wickedly as you kicked your legs and screamed in horror, before releasing the rope just enough for your feet to touch the ground once again. So far, her mind games were taking a toll onto you. You knew she was crazy, but this? This was batshit crazy, far beyond anything you’d ever seen. 

You had no idea how she even got the rope up here in the first place. It hooked over one of the spikes on Lady Liberty’s crown, before dropping onto her shoulder. And the worst part, she planned to record the entire thing and send it to Bucky. Sweet revenge, as she called it. But to you, it was pure insanity. This woman was beyond fucked up. 

“You know, Y/N,” She began, her eyes taking in your panicked self with a sick fascination. “My mother always said that some girls have a movie star face. Kind of like Audrey Hepburn or Dorothy Dandridge,” 

You felt the tears pooling in your eyes as you stared over at her as she talked, silently begging this to be nothing more than a giant nightmare, for you to magically wake up in the comfort of your bed and the security of Bucky’s arms. 

“And you,” she affirmed, lifting the phone in her hand and aiming the camera directly at you. “You’re one of those girls!” With a tap of her finger, she pressed record, much to your horror. The last thing you wanted was for Bucky to witness your end, especially at the hands of one of his enemies. 

With a final, defeated sigh, you closed your eyes. 

You prayed that somehow, Bucky would be able to make it through this. You knew he was strong, far stronger than he knew he was, but if the worst case scenario played out and you didn’t make it through this, he’d be broken. You hoped with everything you had in you, that he would make it through this. 

Before you could think, the sound of wind whooshing past you caused your eyes to shoot open in confusion. 

“Ya know, lady.” A voice said from above you. “Tonight was my Aunt’s birthday dinner! I think you owe an apology to the both of us!” 

You followed the voice, your eyes peering above you. The sound you let out was somewhere between a cry of relief and a snort. Sin let out a snarl before tugging on the rope harshly, causing your feet to lift off the ground once again. 

“C’mon now, lady.” the mysterious man in red sighed as he cocked his head to the side. 

“I’ve got homework, too!”


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Date a girl who varies depending on your astrological symbol.

Aries: Date a girl who has raisins for eyes. She claims her spine is a vine, but you think she just said that because it rhymed.

Taurus: Date a girl who always says she’s “been there, done that, and bought the T-shirt”, then removes her jacket to reveal a t-shirt saying she performed whatever action you were talking about.

Gemini: Date a girl who has her hair in pigtails. Sorry, I misspoke. Date a girl who has pig tails for hair. Date a girl with ringlets made out of pig meat. Date a girl made entirely out of pork, actually. Unless you can’t eat pork for religious, medical, or ethical reasons, in which case, date a girl made out of chicken, quorn, or tofu. 

Crabby McGee: Date a girl who refers to everyone by [personality trait] McGee because she thinks it’s cute. You think it is. Almost everyone else disagrees, but probably because you’re the only one she calls Cutie McGee.

Leo: Date a girl who made matching ‘couples’ tinfoil hats for you both. They’re both fashionable and stop the very literal shadow government from interfering with your thoughts, she says. Obviously, since the shadow people control you by entering your dreams and planting subliminal messages to subtly alter your actions while maintaining the illusion of free will, and don’t control your brain directly via satellite signal any more, the tinfoil hats do basically nothing, but you wear it every so often so she doesn’t feel bad. 

Virgo: Date a girl who likes to catch octopi in her hands, paint them pretty colours, and then set them free again.

Terezi: Date a girl who always fucks up her astrology posts because she’s homestuck trash.

Scorpio:  Date a girl who replies to everything you say with “I know you are, but what am I?”. It’s not as nonsensical as you would think. She’s just stating that she knows you (a corporeal being who exists) are, and then wonders aloud what she (a corporeal being who, despite all common sense dictating that she should exist, does not) is, since she is not. You are. She is not. It is so simple, and yet she cannot understand the concept.

Saggitarius: Date a girl with built-in proofreading software.

Capricorn: Date a girl who is very mysterious and secretive. In fact, even knowing that she’s a girl, is very mysterious, and is very secretive, is more than she has ever allowed anyone to know. If you’re not the Capricorn dating her, you shouldn’t even know this. She won’t allow you to breathe a word of this to anyone. Check all your windows before you go to sleep tonight, non-Capricorns. Your doors, too. And under your bed. Was that light in the hallway on before? You’re probably just imagining that, right? Probably. It’s probably nothing. Probably. But maybe you should check, just to be sure.

Aquarius: Date a girl who appears in the reflection of a particular very small mirror when you look into it. Her face replaces your own, and she points past you, shakily warning you of the horrible monster right behind you. Once you turn, she speaks again, her voice strong and clear and guttural and rasping all at once, and tells you that, actually, she was mistaken. Now the horrible monster is right behind you. The hairs on the back of your neck rise as you feel ice cold breath on you that makes you whimper and straighten your spine. A long, slender tongue licks your neck and leaves a patch of saliva with the consistency of molasses. The voice, deeper still and echoing inside of your skull, says that you’ll do nicely for what she has planned. It’s actually a nice steak dinner and then snuggling up on the reflection of a couch as you watch the reflection of a VHS tape of Ghostbusters 2 on the reflection of a TV, but most people run away before they find that out. Or leave because they can’t stand Ghostbusters’ insensitive and caricaturish portrayal of the undead.

Pisces: Date a girl who was disappointed to find out about finger sandwiches. The name got her hopes up, but the actual ingredients dashed that hope on the rocks.