please share this so people are aware this toy is NOT SAFE.
Please be very very careful when buying toys for your birds, just because its labelled as a bird toy does not make it safe because unfortunately some companies care more about making money than the welfare of our animals.
I’ve seen some people saying that Bill’s sexuality is being written as to ‘in-your-face’ because she references it all the time, but honestly, that is a sign that Moffat has actually managed to write a realistic LGBT person because let me tell you, in safe company, we will do nothing but talk about how ‘gay’ we are. We literally cannot help ourselves, if there is a pun to be made, it will be.
Thank you guys for loving my hc’s just as much as I do! I’ve listened to you guys say you want a fic, so instead of hc’s I’ve taken the dot points out so it flows better. We’re about 3/5 of the way through!
This is the most ugliest creature she has ever seen, Seraphine thought. She glances at Fen beside her, wincing at the sharp pain caused from the movement of her shoulder. Her wolf was growling at the creature in front of them. It was feakishly tall, wearing a dark, ragged, old cloak, it’s face wrinkled like a prune. Taking note of the creatures’ eyes, like deep, deep pits of nothing, Seraphine couldn’t help but wonder who this creature is. The air feels static until it answers out loud for her. “The Suriel,” it says. Seraphine tried to hide her surprise, tried to hide the fact that she had no weapons, not even a pathetic stick to defend herself—besides Fen who was already injured himself. “Are you the one who brought me here?” she asks the Suriel boldly, because there was no other way to face a creature weaponless and injured. The Suriel raises it’s eyebrows like it knows Seraphine’s secrets—she shivers at the thought of a creature like the one in front of her knowing her deepest secrets. “I meant here,” she clears her dry throat and gestures at the camp. “Did you save me?” The Suriel gives her a simple shake of it’s head. “You and I are more alike than you think, Seraphine. Funny, what fate can do.” He gives her the most devilish smile. “Find the ancient one. She can—” The Suriel suddenly stops, and sniffs the air. “I have to go, your m—” A dagger was now pressed against the Suriel’s throat from behind. Seraphine recognised that dark hair, those midnight blue eyes staring right at her—through her, into her soul.
“Before you leave, old friend,” Kastiel whispers into the Suriel’s ear, “I’ll make you a bargain.” Kastiel’s eyes are still on the girl, she was so thin, so pale and helpless, that he couldn’t pass up the opportunity to help her. Why is there such a feeling in his heart—the need to protect someone he has even yet to talk to? “Make no mistake,” the Suriel replied back. “I am only a relative of the Suriel your mother knew—and maybe I’m not as friendly.” Kastiel takes his eyes off the girl and turns toward the Suriel. He had no time for games. “I’ll give you the ruby, in exchange for healing the girl fully—no tricks.” Ignoring the girl’s sharp intake of breath, her mortal heart beating faster and louder in his fae ears, Kastiel awaits for the Suriel’s reply. “Fen too,” the girl suddenly blurts out, gesturing to her wolf. “I want him healed,” she says, adding a quiet please that made Kastiel’s heart squeeze. Her voice sounded awful. Kastiel hadn’t even talked to his team about the possibilities of returning without the ruby, but whatever their punishment was, he wouldn’t allow it to happen—he was willing to take all the blame for this, so long as he helps the girl now. “And what, Prince of the Night, would I do with a ruby that big? Where would I even put it?” the Suriel asks. “In my pockets?” he gestures at his tattered, old cloak, shrugging. Kastiel didn’t care what the Suriel wanted at this point. There was nothing in this world that he owned that was more worth it than the girls’ back, patched up and healed. The Suriel shares a knowing look with Kastiel, his eyes glinting. “I want your cloak, prince.” “Done,” Kastiel says, already feeling the burn of the tattoo etching on his upper forearm.
Seraphine’s breath was knocked out of her—feeling her body heal itself from her cuts and bruises, her malnourishment from the long, long days on the road slipping away. The Suriel gives her one last look, a strange one, before it disappears from her view. “Are you alright?” the boy—no prince says to her. Now that she can see him better in the daylight, Seraphine notices his broad shoulders, his tan complexion and the way his full mouth curves up, in a secret smile. There is no doubt in her mind that he is the most beautiful man she’s ever seen. He takes a small step towards her, but Fen is already growling before the prince could say anything further. “Oh, hush Fen,” she orders her silly wolf. Seraphine looks at the unusual group in front of her—two girls, one with beautiful long red curls, and a pale complexion, another with dark hair and skin; and three boys— all tan with dark hair. But the one in front of her has the most beautiful blue eyes. “I know I should be scared, but isn’t it odd to feel safe with a company of strangers.” The air suddenly feels heavy between them. “Do you trust me?” he asks, reaching for her hand. “Yes,” she answers, without any inkling of doubts, and reaches towards him too.
“My name is Kastiel, and this is my team—Grigor, Ariadne, Lilia and Zephyr,” he says into Seraphine’s ear, smelling the sweet smell of her silver hair. Kastiel clears his throat and shifts his arms under her weight, which was too light for his liking. He didn’t want to think of the possibility of dropping her, remembering how her body fell from the sky earlier. Kastiel hadn’t mentioned the black pit to her either. He didn’t want her to feel caged in his arms, with no where to turn when he asks her about it. “Seraphine,” she suddenly says slowly, not taking her eyes away from the sky ahead. As they make their way home, the mist preventing Kastiel’s magic is slowly thinning. He could already feel his own magic returning. Kastiel sends a message into his father’s mind. “Father, we’re on our way back.” There was slight static before his father replies. “Hurry home, Kastiel, your uncle is getting anxious,” his father says with humour in his voice, making Kastiel feel warm from the sound. There was a pause before his father asks, “did you get the jewel?” “Yes father, but something strange has happened—” “Something strange,” his father interrupts, “in the magical forest that is no-man’s land?” “Father please, be serious. There’s a girl–” But before Kastiel could continue, an awful scream tear from his mouth. He felt pure, painful agony from his chest and arms. He looks down at the sight of Seraphine covered in flames around him. She too was screaming, trying to contain whatever powers she had into herself. The smell of burnt flesh invaded his nose. Kastiel uses the water powers inherited from his mother to douse the flames in hands and on her body, but he couldn’t concentrate on holding her up and making sure they were still in the air. He could already feel her slipping through his arms. Kastiel’s team tried to help, before strong familiar arms wrapped around him. Kastiel closed his eyes, swallowing another scream coming out of him. He still couldn’t get used to the feel of winnowing, especially when it was for longer distances, but he thanked the God’s that his father and uncles were there. Finally, for what felt like an eternity, Kastiel and Seraphine land with a loud thud in his house in Velaris.
Summary: You worry about the fate of Legolas after the battle.
Pairings: Legolas x Reader
Word Count: 929
Warnings: Mentions of dead bodies (?)
Requested by:@localfatgirl; #39: “I just can’t stop thinking about you.” Sorry it took so long.
A/n: This is the hardest Drabble that I have ever wrote. It took me all day to write it because I grew up with two very different Legolases. The Lord of the Rings one and then The Hobbit one so it was difficult. Also how do people title this things. I have such a hard time.
LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED IN FUTURE STORIES
The battle of the five armies was finally over, but your
anxiety wasn’t. While every member of the Company was safe, you had not known
the faith of the blonde elf.
You were quite taken with him when they had first captured
you and the rest of the company. There was just something about his eyes that
really drew you to him. His attitude however could use a little work.
It was obvious that you caught his eye as well. I mean, you
were an elf travelling with dwarves and wearing dwarf clothes that was tailored
to fit your size. That was pretty damn interesting.
After Thorin was separated from the rest of the group,
Legolas, his name was something you found out later, came to speak to you about why you were
journeying with dwarves. You had gone on to explain that you were raised by
dwarves since you were an elfling and you had talked about your life up until
Thorin was escorted back into your cell and you were escorted to talk to the
King. You had not seen the prince since.
Actually, the last time you saw him, he was fighting Bolg,
something that you, Kili and Fili had avoided by leaving the towers before you
got a chance to check it out.
“Y/n!” you hear and you turn around to find Dwalin.
“Come on lass. We need to make our way down the hill,” he
says, approaching you. You turn your attention back to the towers where you had
last seen the prince. He had not exited yet and you were worried that he may never.
“Y/n?” Dwalin asks, laying a hand on your arm.
“Adad. I need to know what happened to the blonde elf,” you
tell him, quietly. He removes his hand and you make your way to the tower. You
step over the dead bodies and you move up the stairs.
You pull your bow and arrow as you hear footsteps coming
down the stairs. You put your weapon down as you realize it’s the just king.
“My lady,” he says, nodding and walking past you.
“Where is Legolas?” you ask quietly, not turning to look at
him. You hear him pause in his movements.
“He is safe. If you hurry, you might be able to catch him
before he leaves,” he replies and you step forward.
“Y/n?” Thranduil asks quietly and that makes you pause in
“Yes, my lord?” you ask. You were not raised by elves, but you knew
when to give your respects even if he did lock you up in a prison cell.
“Take care of him, will you?” he asks and that surprises
Was the King giving you permission to court his son?
“My lord?” you ask.
“Legolas needs someone to – care about and I think he had
found that person in you so I ask that you take care of him. He is the only
person I have left that is worth caring about,” he responds and you finally
turn to look at him.
His back is towards you and it’s obvious that he’s very
“I promise I’ll take care of him,” you say and he nods slightly
before walking away, but you call out to him making him pause.
“My lord, I think that your people care a lot about you and
that if you let yourself, you’ll find that they are also worth caring about,”
you tell him. He looks at you slightly before walking away.
You turn around and run up the stairs, praying to mahal that
Legolas didn’t leave yet. When you get to the third level, you find him overlooking
the frozen falls.
Legolas turns as he hears you. You smile at him and move to
his side and it would’ve been an amazing view if there weren’t so many deaths.
The amount of bodies that lay on the ground made you want to throw up, but you
were not about to do that.
You turn away from the scene below and opt to face the
inside of the tower.
“I had hoped that you would not be amongst those below,”
Legolas says, crossing his arms.
“And I as well. I was worried when I didn’t see you walking
out of the tower,” you tell him.
“I just can’t stop
thinking about you for some reason,” he tells you after a few moments of
silence. You turn to face him.
“Honestly, I cannot
get you out of my head either. I know I shouldn’t because of our differences in
social status and living arrangement, but I just can’t. Not since I first saw
you,” you tell him, “And I don’t know what to do about it.”
Legolas walks over
to you and grabs your hand in his.
“I don’t want to separate
from you,” he says and you rest your hand on his cheek.
“And I don’t want to
separate from you either,” you tell him.
“Come with me,” he
says and you look at him confused. “Come with me. Travel with me around middle
earth,” he says again.
You think about
everything that you have been through in your 141 years of life. You think
about your dwarven family members, thinking about their reactions and you can’t
help, but think it is time that you find who you truly are.
“Okay,” you tell him
quietly. His blue eyes, that you love so much, lights up. “Really?” he asks
“Really,” you tell him, giving him a big smile. He returns it and
pulls you into his arms for a kiss. You knew your father wasn’t going to be
happy, but you also knew that he’d try, for you and that’s all you could ever ask for.
Heather Chandler x Reader Prompt: N/A Requested by: N/A Warnings: Homophobia, gendered slurs A/N: I interrupt this stream of requests to give you: Gay
Heather Chandler never thought she’d see the day where she found her girlfriend sobbing in a stall in the girls toilet. She’d gone in to reapply her makeup during lunch with Heather Duke and Heather McNamara and had heard sobbing in the third stall. Assuming it was just some nobody she ignored it, going straight to the mirror to check her eyeliner while Duke threw a few insults at the crying girl.
“Don’t even bother, Heather, she isn’t even worth it.” Chandler sneered, noticing McNamara move towards the stall with a concerned look, she rolled her eyes and ignored her. No use in feeling pity for people who won’t give you anything in return. With vague interest at kept an eye on McNamara, running a hand through her hair. Maybe she could try a new style? Or at least a trim of some kind. She heard the telling creak of a door and paid no mind to McNamara, until a gasp filled their ears.
“Y/N?!” Chandlers eyes widened at her exclamation. In a matter of seconds Chandler had dropped her eyeliner, shoving her friends aside and dropping down on her knees in front of her girlfriend. The confusion on Duke’s face spoke volumes for all of the Heathers. This wasn’t right. Losers cried in bathroom stalls. People who aren’t worth the time it takes to speak to them did things like this. Not their friend, Y/N. Definitely not Heather Chandler’s Y/N.
Pushing your hair back from your forehead and tilting your head up with a manicured nail, Heather C saw what had caused McNamara such distress. A large black and blue bruise marred your eye, along with a bleeding cut on your forehead. Eyes that normally gazed at Heather with affection and unconditional love were filled with terror and misery that made her stomach twist in fury.
“Who did this?” Heather asked, fury dropping from her words as she, pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. Your arms moved to wrap around her waist, clinging to her like a shipwrecked man would to a piece of flotsam, and Heather carefully hugged you back. She could hear her friends tittering to each other behind her and blocked out their whispers, concentrating on the growing rage inside her.
“K-Kurt and Ram.” You stuttered, wiping your eyes quickly. “T-They saw us together, before school. They know that we’re… I’m sorry, Heather.” You croaked, knowing how badly she wants to keep the relationship a secret. That didn’t matter anymore. If those mouth-breathers knew then it was only a matter of time until the whole school knew. Heather needed to form a plan, and soon. She was silent a few more moments, thinking the situation over. When her eyes met yours again, they were the same stern and cold ones she used when dealing with business.
“Heather, take her to the infirmary.” She said, standing up and brushing off her desk, snapping her fingers at McNamara who rushed forwards and took your hand, helping you up. You gave your girlfriend a worried look, but she gave you a smile back. “I’ll meet with you by my car, after school.” She told you, pressing a kiss to your cheek and turning to Heather Duke, who looked just as angry as she was. “Heather?” She asked, and Duke stood to attention. Chandler rolled her eyes and leaned on one leg, tapping her shoe.
“Yes, Heather?” Duke responded, always willing to please. She reminded Chandler of a lap dog. Always there to bark and nip at the ankles of her enemies at her order. It was useful, to say the least. She crossed her arms and smiled, showing her straight white teeth. “You’re coming with me.” Her voice was like a sickly sweet poison, talking as if the following words were some innocent church phrase. “We know some boys who need castrating.”
You were fast asleep in your bed at home when you saw Heather again. It’d been hours since you were sent home from the incident. Calls had been made, and after a gruff talk from your parents you were sent upstairs to your room. They reacted better than you thought they would, saying while they didn’t quite understand why you were ‘what you were’ they would do their best to support and love you. And right now, that was all you really needed.
Sleep had come quickly once you lay down in your bed, but seemed to be stripped away in an instant as a knock at your window brought you round to consciousness. Lifting yourself from your bed, the aches and pains of your joints begged you to stop straining yourself, but you pressed on. There was only one person who would come knocking at your window at night. Slipping from your bed you crept over the the windowsill and opened your blinds, eyes meeting with your girlfriends. She looked as perfect as ever, her clothes immaculate, gorgeously styled blonde hair framing her pretty face. You grinned at her and unlocked your window, wondering how you got so lucky.
She climbed into your room silently, locking the window behind her before turning and pulling you into a tight hug. You pressed your face into her shoulder and breathed perfume in, letting her hold you close. Her touch filled you with a feeling of warmth like no other, and you’d never felt safer than when you were in her arms. “I’ve dealt with everything.” She whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your temple as you sighed. There was no point in asking for details. You trusted Heather, and if she said it was sorted then it was sorted. Leading her over to your bed the two of you lay down, resting your head on her chest and holding each other tight.
“Parents?” She asked, running a hand through your hair lazily. You gazed up at her, smiling at the view. “Confused, but supportive. Yours?” She shrugged and nodded. “The same, really. I was in more trouble for what Heather and I did to Tweedledick and Tweedledumb.” Her grin grew at the thought, as you laughed. Normally you weren’t one that enjoyed others being hurt, but considering the circumstances, Kurt and Ram absolutely deserved what was coming to them “Jesus. What did you do?” You giggled as she ran a finger along your jaw, happy to see you smile. “I put my croquet mallet to use,” She said, voice aloof, a smile twitching at the corner of her mouth. “and Heather was more than willing to throw around her limited power as well. Listen, all you need to know is that I’m still at the top, and nobody will ever hurt you again, unless they’ve got some kind of brain damage.” Your heart swelled at her words, and you hugged her tighter. It was so hard for you to believe someone like her would ever even look at someone like you. But here you were, protected and loved by her.
Still smiling, you sat up and cupped her face with your hand, gazing into her eyes, which for once had a soft expression. You sighed happily, and in a quick movement pressed your lips to hers in a gentle kiss which she returned just as eagerly, happy to give and receive such affection. After a few more seconds you pulled away, and she began to gingerly kiss the bruises on your face. You closed you eyes and let her, feeling the pain fade away ever so slightly.
“I love you, Heather.” You mumbled without realizing, feeling her freeze. You thought for a moment you’d done something wrong, when she pulled your body flush against hers, destroying any previous anxiety you had. “I love you too.” She murmured a little hesitantly. There was a hint of embarrassment in her voice, and you wondered if she’d ever said, or even had those three words spoken to her. You were definitely going to change that. Rubbing her back with your hand you kissed her jaw, whispering sweet nothings to her as she relaxed in your arms. And that was how you stayed throughout the night and into the morning. Loved, warm and safe in each others company. You couldn’t wish for more.
A/N: Thank you for reading! Sorry if this seemed a little OOC. I’m practicing how to write the Heathers characters and rather liked this one. Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed!
Luckily, Willy lived in the same
building as you, only a couple floors down. You knocked on the door and waited
a couple seconds. You’re looking down, playing with your hands. Tears still
falling but your arm muscles are tired from reaching up to stop them. There’s a
strange feeling in your mind. It’s blank. Not being able to create a thought.
Hello! This is a short fanfic about Dan Howell based on two requests that I got. I hope you enjoy it and let me know what you think!
You leaned a little bit closer into your boyfriend, snuggling your head into his chest. He smelled like flowers, probably because of his laundry detergent, but it was a lovely smell that you’d started to identify with him. You felt him slightly change his posture to accommodate your new position and smiled to yourself. You had been dating Dan for only a few weeks but you felt so at home and relaxed with him. You had known him for a lot longer and your friendship had gradually evolved into something more. Movie nights like these had not been uncommon only now they involved cuddling, which you certainly did not mind. You’d sometimes wonder if Dan ever pondered on why the two of you hadn’t kissed yet, seeing as you’d told him many times that you felt comfortable and safe in his company. He must have thought about it, but being the gentleman that he was, had not asked or bothered you with it. From the corner of your eyes you noticed he’d turned his attention from the tv to you, gazing down at your face with a smile on his. “What are you looking at?” You softly asked, lifting your head so your chin rested on his chest. “My beautiful girlfriend, I believe.” Dan smiled, and he planted a kiss on your cheek. You slightly turned your face to his as he kept his close to you, leaning in and looking into his eyes. He raised his eyebrows as if asking you a question, to which you nodded, because you knew what he meant. Slowly, he put his hand on your cheek, moving his nose over yours once before he kissed you softly, both your eyes closed. He expected you to pull back but you didn’t, instead you let him continue and deepen the kiss.
THIS ASK TOUCHED A VERY SPECIAL PART OF MY SOUL BC THIS IS A CONCEPT I LOVE
In my headcanons, they’re all in their 20s.
- kaz brekker is the ultimate kingpin involved in bootlegging, drug smuggling, bookmaking and whatever else seems profitable
- he smokes way too much and it is honestly annoying to everyone around him (except for jesper who smokes just as much)
- kaz’s broken leg helped him avoid the draft and so, while all other gang bosses were off fighting in the war, he could leisurely build up his empire
- jesper wasn’t so lucky and often escaped dangerous battle situations by the skin of his teeth. He returned from wwi shell-shocked, yet tried to play it off
- he’s jittery after the war and tries to ignore his bad memories by fleeing into gambling and drink. it doesn’t help against the nightmares, though
- kaz worked with jesper before the war and is happy to have him involved in his business again. he uses jesper as a kind of mad dog, his security in stand-offs
- the roaring twenties are a kind of play-ground for jesper and music hall actress nina, who works as a spy for kaz
- inej can absolutely rock the flapper style bc of her lithe figure, but she often chooses to disguise as a boy - it allows her more freedom of movement than dresses do
- jan van eck: stock broker, banker, filthy rich
- wylan van eck: dreams of one day being a professional musician. didn’t have to go to war until the end of 1917 because he was previously too young. He was always a sensitive soul, but proved to be surprisingly tough when faced with battle
- kaz takes wylan in when he hears that the boy knows a thing or two about fire-arms - especially about developing them
- kaz brekker looks impeccable in his suit and leather gloves and crow’s-head cane. he wears a flat cap, though, like all the boys in the barrel
- nina is somewhat famous and her full figure is a bit of an exception to the fashionable ideal of the time, which is why she attracts so much attention. men cannot take their eyes of this epitome of womanhood
- she seduces men for their secrets and then drugs them to make a quick escape
- matthias is the fjerdan soldier who was trapped behind enemy lines and subsequently imprisoned. nina met him during the war when she worked as a nurse
- inej is urged by her parents to go to ketterdam and find work there, as the suli are forced to live on the outskirts of cities where they perform
- she runs into kaz when he sees her escape a group of ruffians who were harassing her by somehow making her way onto the rooftops
- kaz would like to continue to be cold and calculating, but inej drives him mad with crazy feelings he never knew before
- especially when she’s in one of those fancy beaded and sequined dresses that show off her elegance and graceful movements
- especially when she comes to him while he’s standing in the company safe counting out the kruge for a hit-man and her silent disapproval makes him doubt his ways
- jesper and nina, however, are having and absolute ball and hitting the town most nights
- it’s for work, in a way. you can’t help but find out information when alcohol loosens people’s tongues
- once at a party, jesper teaches wylan how to become a better shot out in a mansion’s garden, but the two of them just end up making out and get in the next car that’s driving back into ketterdam
- inej loves music and dancing and has records playing any time of day or night. she dances to them on quiet feet and kaz often silently makes his way to her door and just standa there watching her until she notices him
- nina makes friends with a circle of artists and writers and becomes the muse of almost all of them
- matthias has a hard time adjusting to ketterdam after he’s broken out of prison. he has an especially hard time accepting the fact that he owes his life to those who were his enemies during the war
- kaz brekker buys one of the first cars the barrel has ever seen up close
- wylan helped choose it bc he knows a lot about mechanics
- jesper crashes it one night when he’s driving after quite a lot of whiskey (it was for a dare)
- needless to say, kaz is absolutely furious about it
EXO wolf reaction to their mate being missing but she was actually spending time with other members
Probably me xD I always forget telling mom where I am. Admin A~
/I don’t own any of the gifs used, unless stated otherwise/
*Just stands there watching you like a sad puppy* “I thought you were in danger… but here you were… my heart almost stopped…” *sulking*
*Angry at the boys for not telling him that you were there with them while he was worried sick*
*Acts like he is angry the whole day but in reality he is just glad you weren’t missing or anything* “I’m angry because I was worried like hell… you could’ve left a note or something… there are hunters in these woods you know?”
*Trying really hard to control his temper and not start a fight with the boys* “i know they kept you safe but… I looked for you everywhere! Why didn’t you tell me where you were… that you were safe with them!”
*Finds them having fun at the bonfire and just sits next to you* “Are you seriously…. you know I was dead worried about you? Hey… at least give me a bite of that :c”
*Almost starts crying when he sees you at their tent* “This girl… I thought she… I’m just glad she’s okay… they protected her”
*Literally appears like this in front of your tent* “Are you okay? Are you harmed? Who protected you? There was a hunter around… i thought… I’m just glad you are okay and never left their side”
*Really angry at himself for not realizing sooner that the pack would protect you if he wasn’t there* “I trust my pack.. what is wrong with me? Why can’t I calm down when it comes to her?” *Total drama queen tbh xD*
*Doesn’t say a word but is about to cry out of frustration* “I looked for her in the entire forest… went crazy and almost attacked the other pack… and she was here… with them… playing hide and sick? … and they didn’t invite me either…. ugh”
*Gives them the thank you nod that kinda seems like I’m going to kill you nod* “Just…. next time… tell me she’s coming with you”
*The boys have to calm him down because he went crazy and couldn’t stop crying thinking you were gone* “She’s…. alive…. safe…she’s….okay…”
*Alpha is very proud of his pack* “Just as expected… you kept her safe.. gave her company. Couldn’t expect less, thank you my wolves”
So as I’m still salty about Addy most likely getting retired let’s talk about what American Girl is doing rn
Because I usually try to keep this blog positive but americangirlstar is p*ssed so let’s have a friggin discussion
Here’s the thing with American Girl thus far:
They are focusing too much on their Contemporary Dolls
American Girl was created in the 1980s by Pleasant T Rowland. She was inspired by the history around her in Colonial Williamsburg and decided to write a line of books to teach History to girls through girls like them, accompanying them with “beautifully crafted dolls and accessories that fed a girl’s imagination and taught history through the lives of its young heroines.” (American Girl Ultimate Visual Guide, page 10)
Now, remember that. American Girl was created to teach girls history through their dolls and their stories.
Which leads me two the fact that FOUR Contemporary Dolls were released this year.
[Pictured: 2017′s Contemporary Characters, with Tenney Grant, Z Yang and Logan Everett on the top and Tenney Grant, Z Yang and Gabriela McBride on the bottom]
And while it is nice to have a Black Disabled GotY, a Korean Doll and the first boy doll, their stories don’t really teach much except for the usual “be yourself” stuff.
Also released this year were two BeForevers (half as much as the Contemporary), and one of which was a re-release with NO COLLECTION and the other of which hasn’t been released yet.
[Pictured: Felicity’s Collection, including the doll, accessories, three books and undergarments; nothing else, which is much less than the other dolls]
That’s not all. Ignoring all the advertising Tenney has gotten with the BeForevers not getting much, what else shows AG’s shift in focus? The movies.
Originally, AG released movies exclusively for their Historical Characters. Samantha’s came first, followed by Felicity and Molly. Kit’s was even released in theaters. (Which I remember, because I went to see it and brought by Nicki doll along too)
After that? Chrissa- the 2009 Girl of the Year- got a movie. Now, by this point, Girl of the Year was kinda a side thing. Yeah, they got cool stuff, but they weren’t overhyped or anything. Chrissa changed this: she was extremely hyped, getting a huge collection, TWO gal pal best friend dolls and a movie. I remember seeing trailers for the Chrissa movie before the doll was even announced to the public: They called it “The Girl of the Year Movie” and it was a big deal.
After Chrissa, it started to die down a little with Lanie and Kanani, but when McKenna rolled around, for some reason she was also given a movie and big collection. Well, ok, that’s fine, until Saige came out the next year, also with a huge collection and movie. Then Isabelle, and by this point we all kinda realized that American Girl cared WAY more about the GotYs than the Historical Characters. The next BeForever movie didn’t come until 2016, with Melody and Maryellen, both of which were Amazon Prime Exclusive.
Which I guess makes sense from a business standpoint- according to page 14 of the Ultimate Visual Guide, it takes only two years to make a Girl of the Year and three to make a BeForever, since they have to make sure everything is Historically Accurate.
But here’s the thing: it’s not just that the focus is now on hyping up the Girls of the Year. Let me repeat what I said earlier:
Rowland was inspired by the history around her in Colonial Williamsburg and decided to write a line of books to teach History to girls through girls like them, accompanying them with “beautifully crafted dolls and accessories that fed a girl’s imagination and taught history through the lives of its young heroines.”
The way this is stated expresses that the books came first, dolls second. Which brings me to…
American Girl seems to be more focused on playing it safe than creating interesting stories… and that’s a problem.
I don’t know about you guys, but I didn’t ask for American Girl Dolls every Christmas as a kid because I liked the dolls (though they are beautiful!). I wanted them because I remember the stories. I beggede for Josefina and Kaya because I loved their stories. My sister asked for Kirsten and Addy for the same reason, my little sister can’t talk about the dolls without bringing up how great Felicity’s books are. The reason American Girl has lasted this long is because the stories draw us to the characters, and we relate to the girls.
I don’t think American Girl understands this.
According to rumors, Samantha and Addy are going to be retired this year. Let’s look at what happens in their stories:
Samantha lives in the 1904 Suffragette Period, learning about the Women’s Rights movement, and helps her friend escape poverty and abuse. She learns about Child Labor and speaks out against it.
Addy lives in 1864, during the end of the Civil War. She is born a slave, and in the first book she watches her father and brother sold and then escapes with her Mama to the North, where she learns about freedom and tries to bring her family back together.
I could literally write an essay on how important the Addy Doll is (but this post is already to long so tl;dr I’m upset that AG thinks it’s a good idea to retire her). These two aren’t exclusive in their mature storylines: Kirsten’s best friend died on her way to America, Kaya also escapes slavery, Josefina and her family are dealing with grief from her mother’s death, Kit’s books deal with the homeless situation in the Great Depression, etc.
The thing is these storylines work because they’re not sugarcoated. We want to see a character struggle so we can cheer when they finally succeed. These were also realistic things that would happen to these girls: the girls feel real because real things happen to them.
But here’s the thing. I think American Girl is trying to get away from that, to write “safer” storylines. Look at a newer historical character: Maryellen, from 1954. What happens in her story? Well… she talks about how she had polio once- before the story, and it doesn’t really affect anything until she later tries to get people to vaccinate their kids. Her sister gets married. She wants it to snow on Christmas.
And… that’s about it.
And that’s a reason why the re-focus on the Contemporaries isn’t that great: the Contemporary Dolls have nowhere near as complex storylines. Just looking at the newer ones, Gabriela’s main focus is Poetry and Student Council, Z just likes to make movies, and Tenney gets a freaking record deal at the age of 12-13! How many little girls can relate to getting a record deal? Probably the darkest storyline would be Chrissa getting bullied, which is NOTHING compared to Addy having to escape slavery.
It seems that the refocus is less because the Contemporary Dolls make more money (though they might), and more because their stories are safe. You can’t have soccer moms yelling at you for a GotY who just likes gymnastics and doesn’t have to face racism in the 1860′s. You don’t have to deal with the problems of the past if you can just market to girls who like doll clothes and expensive doll furniture.
Which is why retiring two of their most significant Historical Dolls seems like a big misstep to me; Samantha tells girls about Women’s Suffrage and Child Labor, Addy tells them about finding freedom and dealing with racism in a crappy society. Retiring them makes it seem like AG’s trying to sweep all that “dark stuff” under the rug. And they can probably argue “Well, we have Felicity to talk about feminism and Melody to talk about anti-segregation.” Well, Felicity is a cool doll with a great storyline, but she doesn’t live in a period of change for women’s right and children’s rights. Melody is a great doll, but her storyline is more focused on her singing- she does experience racism in her life, but she lives in a town that is not segregated: she learns about segregation from her cousin, kind of passively experiences changes instead of taking part in the activity around her. While Addy and Melody are both interesting characters, Addy faces more difficulties and has a much different story than Melody.
I think I got a bit off track? But my point is basically that American Girl has forgotten that their main draw is their storylines. That’s why a lot of older girls still collect the dolls; we love the stories around them and the characters the dolls represent. But AG is trying much too hard to play the stories safe, and thus the company doesn’t seem as good now.
Seriously, ask a girl who likes AG to tell you about Mia St. Clair. Chances are they won’t tell you much. Ask them who Felicity is, and they’ll get way more into the topic. Because she’s far more interesting!
: Hi there sweetheart! 😘Can I request Thorin x
reader story? They are stuck in the cells of mirkwood, she and Thorin are in
the same cell. Ori askes if she could sing something to lift their spirit and
she sings far across the land - eurielle. Thorin is affected by the lyrics of
the song. Lots of fluff.
sing a song to comfort the now imprisoned company, but it hits a little too
close to home for Thorin.
“We’re never going to make it to the mountain, are
we?” Ori’s voice sounded so broken, so
sad. It made your heart ache. But what did it more was to see Thorin
sitting in the corner, just staring at the stone wall in front of him.
You had been thrown in with the fallen king when
the elves locked you away. You had tried
multiple times to reach out to him, to get him to talk with you, but he would
just blink and stare on. Everyone else
was feeling the helplessness in their situation, you could only imagine what
was going through his mind.
Had he failed?
Had he led this brave group to their doom?
In the near future I may be going on a lot of business trips, so I thought of a way to protect myself on the road.
It’ll also work for longer journeys, holiday trips or for the way to school.
Let’s start, shall we?
Where to perform: wherever it suits you
When to perform: Monday or Wednesday, Hour of Mercury or Hour of Sun, Waxing Moon, Full Moon or Waning Moon
the shoes you’ll be wearing
an orange, or brown or silver permanent marker
something to represent the elements (e.g. a bowl of water, soil, incense and a lit candle)
a few sheets of paper
a compass in case you don’t know where which cardinal direction is
Gather the required stuff and check out where the directions are in the area you’re going to cast the spell.
Put the representations of the elements in the directions where they belong (for me it’ll be: Air=East, Fire=South, Water=West, Earth=North)
Create a circle and set your workspace up in the West.
Now it’s up to you to draw symbols or a sigil on the soles of your shoes. A symbol could be a Rune like Rad and a sigil could be created out of a sentence like this one: „My journey is safe and joyful.“ (Hint: If you casting the spell for someone else, use their name instead.)
Present your work to the Elements, starting in the west. Say something like this: „To the West I travel safely, finding always a place to rest.“
Walk deosil around the circle and go to each cardinal direction until you come back to the West. Sentences for the other directions may be: „To the North, I travel safely, my feet are always on solid ground.“ „To the East, I travel safely, surrounded by good company.“ „To the South, I travel safely, overcoming all the obstacles that are put in my way.“
Ground yourself, open the circle and you’re done!
Merry Meet again!
Variation: If you don’t want to draw on the soles of your shoes, draw it on a colored sheet of paper and put it in your right shoe or sew it into your jacket.
Inspired by this post by likehemmins but the acc is unavailable. *fuck this*
Date night - Feysand fluff (Modern time AU)
After all the time of not talking Feyre had hoped Tamlin would show up. He promised. Then again he had promised to come to her house a couple of times a week. He hadn’t done that either. He had broken so many promises over the last few weeks and made so many new ones. He wasn’t willing to let her go out even if it was with him and he wasn’t there.
↝ summary: your father is someone who you can never seem to get along with. when he wreaks havoc, namjoon considers asking you out. you don’t take it lightly.
Detached murmurs fill the ballroom as your eyes take another bored sweep over it.
“Remember to smile,” your father whispers gently as he smiles at the guests. You mimic his smile, walking down the staircase alongside him. “I don’t need anyone knowing how much of a brat you truly are.”
When Steve volunteers to help Tony launch Stark Tech’s new Military Prosthetics Project, the last person he expects to see as he walks into the lab is the same guy who had him shoved up against a wall in the back of a club the weekend before.
Back then he had just been Steve Rogers; a civilian looking for a good time just like everyone. Here, he’s Captain America; hero, justice, and patriotism personified. Bucky, however, is still the flirtatious devil he had been back at the club, and he’s obviously not going to let something as trivial as Steve’s occupation get in the way of what he wants.
Prompt: “okay but like. steve and bucky. snuggling. everywhere. any time, any place, doesn’t matter who’s there, one of them’s on their back on something, the other’s draped on top, soft neck kisses and gentle totally safe for company touching, a hip squeeze there or a stroke down the back there. they have conversations with each other like that, lips against the other’s throat, or shoulder, or conversations with others in which the person on top’s comments have to be deciphered by the other bc mumbling”
How about Junkrat sleeping and cuddling with his s/o? Not NSFW
He sees you laying on the bed and quickly throws him next to you, his arms wrapping around you and tightly holding you close. Your hand spread across his back and he rested his head into your shoulder.
You felt as he quickly fell asleep, feeling safe in your company. You just smiled as he began to snore, pressing a kiss to his forehead.
Your own eyes fluttered shut, nose pressed against his forehead still. The smell of gunpowder gently lulled you to sleep. The two of you sprawled together as you slept together.
1. It’s not a disease, it’s a functional disability. There is a difference.
2. Please, don’t say “but you don’t seem autistic” to an autistic person. The reason why this is called an invisible disability is because - wait for it - it’s often not visible!
3. Autistic people exist within all the scale of intelligence spectrum. We’re all different, just like you. Most of us are not like Rain Man (Savant Syndrome is very rare and way different than autism, okay?) and if you throw out a package of peas on the floor, we wont be able to count them, just ask ourselves why we are considered disabled and not the moron throwing food on the floor.
4. We can have romantic and sexual relationships, friends and families too. Some of us are parents and doing fine.
5. The math professor you’re passing by in the corridor at university, the cleaner who’s trolly you just saw around the corner, the teenage girl waiting for the bus, the old lady walking her dog around your block, the musician you just heard on the radio, the toddler that seems uninterested in playing with the other kids in the park, the dad who’s always looking at his cellphone, may all be autistic. We are everywhere. We’re different.
6. When it looks like I’m going through the day smooth, it’s because I’ve done rigorous plans to not get a meltdown. And no, most meltdowns are not visible.
7. Being autistic, often means it’s difficult to reckognize feelings and separate them. That’s called alexithymia and that too is different from person to person. Some have more of it than others. It doesn’t mean we have less feelings or don’t feel as strong as non-autistic people. It simply means a lot of us have to spend time figuring out what we’re feeling and why, because our brain don’t tell us that automatically. That makes us feel chaotic, perhaps even frightened. It’s fucking exhausting too.
8. A lot of us hate surprises. That doesn’t mean we’re boring. It means that our brains have a limitied capability to visualize new situations and to shift focus. It can also be extremely frightening and make us feel loss of control, exposed and vulnerable.
9. It’s very difficult to try and tell your autistic brain that, for example, trying new food or going to an unfamiliar place with your friends to have a good time in safe company, is enjoyable. When you have a hard time both visualizing and generalizing, things that non-autistic people think are about the same, could feel like completely different things. We think in details, not unities, and that makes us perceive the world in ways that differ more than the usual differences between people.
10. We take things literally. Yes, we do. Even people who, like me, belong to the high functional part of the spectrum. We don’t read between the lines, we are often not very good at reading body language, faces or tones of voices. The spoken - or written - words are, for most of us, the one thing communication is about. Don’t get mad at us for not knowing that you really meant “life sucks and I need a hug”, when you said “I’m fine”, okay?
11. Generally, we care less for emotions than facts. Not because we don’t have emotions or don’t care about others - believe me, we do - but because they are a very uncertain navigation tool for us. It often makes us end up in situations where we come off as cold, indifferent, hard or just socially very awkward. As an autistic woman, this is often way, way more difficult with non-autistic women. I’ve lost count on how many girlfriends I’ve lost because of my inability to read between the lines and their inability to speak plainly.
12. It’s a tricky disability, because it takes so many different shapes. Sometimes it’s not visible at all, sometimes it’s even a strenght. Some of my autistic features, I wouldn’t want to live without. Others have the capacity of literally ruining my life. To be a 30+ female with an objectively smart brain in some areas, that somehow fails miserably with food, cleaning, remembering where things are, keep even basic order, doing the dishes, focus on studies, finishing tasks, shift focus and has such difficulties with surveying, short term memory and sense of time, is not a minor inconvenience - it’s a neverending, daily struggle that drains me and makes me feel like a complete failure.
Lot’s of girls and women with autism and ADD, never get the help they need, because we’re so good at hiding our difficulties. The diagnoses still very much describes boys and men within the spectrum, but girls and women often have a bit different symptomes - and we’re good at hiding them. Our family, teachers and friends, may not see our difficulties as “real” difficulties, especially not if we are high functioning in some ways. People think that since I read at least five times faster than the avarage person, that means I must be smart in “simpler” areas, like keeping track of time or knowing proper social behavior.
But autism doesn’t work that way and even when our difficulties aren’t shown, they’re still there and make our lives harder than others. It’s not whining, it’s telling it like it is. And if “pull yourself together and just get more organized” helped, believe me, we all would’ve been fucking masters on organizing, planning and prioritizing - and you would’ve begged for our assistance. But, alas, it doesn’t work that way. Do you even think that an autistic brain, who craves logic and order, would freely live in chaos if it could maintain order just by “pulling itself together”? Really? No, I didn’t think so.
The world isn’t nice to an autistic brain. And if you, like me, have been blessed/cursed with ADD as well, the world could be your fucking arch enemy.
So, if you’re a girl or woman with autism or ADD or both - or just suspect you might have it, or maybe just think “holy fuck, some of this shit actually describes some of what I’m feeling and thought I was alone and just a fucking failure”, I want to say:
You’re not alone, you’re not crazy and you’re not a failure. Your brain simply works different and you have the right to both ask for help and guidance with the struggles that you may feel embarressed about not getting right, and to find ways to use your strenghts and enjoy life on your terms. You’re not spoiled, you’re not a “snowflake”, not a brat or a lazy bastard just because people can’t see your struggles.
Be nice to yourself. For many years, I wasn’t. And sometimes I’m still not. I wake up in the mornings, longing for normality, for control and a quiet brain. I accuse myself, I’m unforgiving and ashamed. And then, when I’ve walked down that spiral, I somehow always get back again.
And I realise I kick ass, for going through life and not giving up. That I’m not a brat for wanting what the people accusing me of being lazy, unfocused, rude or stupid are taking for granted:
a mind that doesn’t constantly, 24/7, does it’s best to fuck up normality in an endless guerilla war you didn’t asked to be a part of.
The Brooklyn Bridge opened on this day in 1883. The bridge’s opening day was marked in both the cities of New York and Brooklyn and over 1,000 vehicles and 150,000+ people crossed the bridge that first day. Initially designed by John Roebling, a German engineer who had designed some of America’s shorter suspension bridges, the bridge went through its fair share of chief engineers. Shortly after getting his plans approved, John’s foot was crushed by a ferry, he contracted tetanus, and died within a month of the accident. This meant his son, Washington Roebling, had to take over as chief engineer. However, he too suffered health issues. After spending a lot of time over three years supervising the riverbed’s excavation in caissons (watertight structures used to work on bridge foundations), he was stricken with the bends and became bedridden. And so, Emily Warren Roebling, Washington Roebling’s wife, became the “first woman field engineer”. She spent the duration of the construction period both caring for her husband and ferrying information back and forth from him to the site. Upon the bridge’s completion, and in advance of the official opening, Emily became first to officially cross the bridge, carrying a rooster as a symbol of victory. Want to learn more about Emily? Come visit us, she’s one of the characters featured in NEW YORK AT ITS CORE.
2013.3.1.735 Edmund Vincent Gillon [Looking west down Old Fulton Street to the Long Island Safe Deposit Company building and Bankside Boon Dock bar and restaurant.] DATE: ca. 1974
Typical. Just typical. What a time to catch a cold, and boy
it was one heck of a cold. Amy Rose rolled over in her bed, sniffling as she
did so. She had so many things she’d wanted to do, but this damned cold had glued
her to her bed. She decided that she
might try and sleep some of the illness away, but as she closed her eyes ready
to sink into a deep slumber, her communicator buzzed loudly on nightstand
“Oh for god *sniff* sake, this better be *sniff* good!” She
spluttered as she reached over to the devise next to her.
“Amy! Where are you? Eggman’s attacking!!” Sticks screamed
down the devise.
Sticks’ voiced echoed around Amy’s head, increasing the
nagging headache that she already had.
“I’ll be right *cough* there!” Amy croaked in response.
She clambered out of bed, throwing on a clean dress, and
began dragging her self towards the danger.