to write a proper

in reference to all the racism in the sw fandom (and fandom in general) here’s some thoughts.

black and brown fans do not owe y'all shit.

we do not owe you our time, and our coddling, and our patience. if you have racist tropes in your writing or in your art, the proper response to someone pointing it out is not “why are you being so aggressive and starting discourse?” or “please don’t give criticism my anxiety can’t handle it.” the proper response is to say “okay, i didn’t know that. thanks for pointing it out, I’ll fix it.” that’s it. y'all do not get to police and control our tone over our rightful outrage at the racism we have to face not only in our everyday lives but also in fandom. not only that, but there are already plenty of resources that explain exactly why something is racist, and it’s your job to look for it.

if this means you “don’t feel safe making fic or art” okay don’t do it then. if your feelings are more important than the collective mental health of fans of color, then i dont want you making content. and to all you apologists who say “but that means we’ll have less representation!” i would rather have less representation and less content if that meant that I wouldn’t have to read another racist fic or whitewashed fanart ever again. if you accept racist content in the name of “progress!” you can choke.

A Lesson in Discretion Part 2

Characters: Professor!Dean x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, things get a little hot n’ heavy again, student/teacher relationship

Description: The reader visits Dean at his apartment for date night. Who knew streaking the last piece of pizza could lead to such things…

A/N: I wrote part 1 for this a while ago and loved Professor Dean so much that I had to do another. You could just read this on its own though. I think if I were to write more Professor Dean though that I’ll just start a proper series from the very beginning. Still, hope you like it xx Masterlist


Giving a quick glance either side of the hallway, I tap lightly on the apartment door in front of me. In my free hand I have our pizza and our movie for tonight. Dean opens the door with a smile. He surveys the corridor then, satisfied with our privacy, leads me inside.

“Smells good. Did you remember the garlic bread?” Dean asks and I have to roll my eyes.

“What kind of loving girlfriend would I be if I forgot my man’s favourite pizza order?” As I put the boxes down on the coffee table he wraps his arms and links them around my waist.

“I’m sure I’d find some way to forgive you if you ever did,” he smiles smugly before planting a sweet kiss on my lips.

While Dean unboxes the food, I take off my coat to reveal a shorter skirt than I was wearing earlier and I’ve left more of the buttons undone on the blouse. He can’t help but stare as I join him on the couch. Kicking off my shoes, I cosy up to him and he wraps one arm around my shoulder as he presses play on the movie.

We sit in comfortable silence, enjoying our pizza and just being together. Subconsciously, he moves his finger in little circles on my shoulder blades, it tickles but I manage not to jerk away- I’m normally very ticklish. I move my head to rest near his heart and get more comfortable. I can hear it speed up during the tense scenes, proof that I made a good choice with an action-thriller. By the climax, we’ve both drunk enough beer to have a good buzz but we’re not off-our-faces drunk. While some might say that having to spend almost every date in the same apartment is boring, I have to disagree; I quite enjoy our lazy Friday nights in with no one to bother us. Keeping the relationship a secret sucks at times but it does also kind of add to the attraction. Like how people get drawn to forbidden love and affairs.

The end credits roll up the TV screen accompanied by the movie score. Neither of us wants to escape the comfort of the sofa to stop the DVD.

“If you sort out the TV, I’ll let you have the last slice of pizza.” Dean jokes, I know as well as he does that the moment my back is turned he’ll wolf it down.

“Or, you could do it while I eat the pizza and watch.” I say, getting cocky.

“No! If I do it, I get the pizza.”

“Fine.” I roll my eyes, drawing out the ‘i’ and smiling. He nods warily before kneeling down by the TV. The moment his back is facing me, I snatch the last slice and make a spectacle of taking a victorious bite. He immediately sees me and stands up with his hands on his hips.

“Oh, you’re gonna regret that!” He remarks slyly.

Thinking one step ahead, I jump over the back of the sofa and run to the kitchen still holding the remains of the pizza. Dean catches on straight away and chases me.

“Come ‘ere ya little pizza thief.” He growls, darting from side to side.

“You’re gonna have to catch me first!” I giggle, giddily running around the apartment. Unfortunately, Dean’s apartment is very small so it’s not long before he catches me, grabbing me by the waist.

“Gotcha!” He shouts triumphantly, spinning me around to face him. Before I can even attempt to wiggle free, he rests his forehead on mine looking deeply into my eyes.

We’re both quiet for a moment, catching our breaths back while staying in the same position. Dean is the one to speak again first.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N.” He whispers, tucking a stray strand of my hair behind my ear.

“Even when I steal your food?” He leans in even closer, our lips almost brushing eachother.

“Especially when you steal my food.” Then he connects our lips. He starts gentle at first, slowly moving his hands around to support my back and hold me tighter to him. It always amazes me how he can go from sweet to spicy so quickly when we’re kissing. The longer we stand there, the more passionate he gets. Our tongues dance together, only breaking apart to breathe, and his hands have moved lower, resting on the backs of my thighs. He hoists me up to his waist and I wrap my legs around him as we slowly make the short journey to his bedroom.

Dean sits on the edge of the bed, me now sitting on his lap almost straddling him. His kisses have become more hungry, leaving my lips to make a path down my neck to my collarbone. He stops every so often, sucking and nibbling at certain spots; I’m going to be so marked up by tomorrow. Not that I care all that much.

Desperate now for more skin-to-skin contact, I begin unbuttoning his shirt revealing more of his tanned, freckled skin. He does the same, frantically undoing all the buttons on my blouse and slipping off the fabric leaving me in my black bralette he got a peek at earlier in the classroom. Dean then rests his hands under my skirt on my upper thighs, they send a warm tingle through my skin. My own hands slip past his open shirt to rest on his smooth chest. Unexpectedly, he flips me onto the bed, prompting a squeal from me, so he’s now on top. One knee resting between my thighs and the other to my side, he pulls off his shirt before resuming this most heavy of make out sessions.

While I can feel the arousal pooling in the pit of my stomach and I can tell without looking that Dean feels it in him too, I know that we won’t go all the way, not if I don’t want to. Dean agreed with me when we first got together that he wouldn’t push me to do anything I didn’t want to do. It sounds sappy but, we’re waiting until it feels right; it’s just one thing that makes me love him more. Plus, I want my first time, not just with Dean but first ever, to be , well, special. I’m not going to do something I’m not comfortable doing just yet.

Gradually, his kisses grow sweeter again before becoming just the two of us looking into one another’s eyes.

“I love you De,” I can’t help but smile every time I say it.

“I love you too Y/N.” He replies then kisses me tenderly on the forehead.

After much shuffling around, we both get under the covers to go to sleep. I’m now in one of his old t shirts that smells like him and he has stripped down to just his boxers. With my back to his stomach, Dean wraps both arms around me to spoon.

“Goodnight beautiful,” he whispers, placing a small kiss on my shoulder.

“Goodnight handsome.” I yawn and snuggle closer. If I told people I’m dating my teacher, their first thought would probably be to say “The sex with an older guy must be amazing!”. I’m no expert, obviously, so I would have nothing to compare it to. But, the best part about dating Dean, is moments like these. Calm, content moments. Moments where he makes me feel safe and full of love. I love Dean with all my heart and, one day, I’ll show him just how much that is.

Published by @hillywooddestiel 20.08.17


thoughts, feelings, y’know that sorta thing

edit 2: this is a post about bipolar disorder, made by me, an artist with bipolar disorder, strictly for other people with bipolar disorder. stop tagging it for unipolar depression, anxiety, bpd, psychosis, or anything else (those are just the most used tags on this) because it’s not about those. even if you think you can relate, tagging this as anything other than bipolar disorder is stripping my meaning away from my work, and invalidating my feelings as a mentally ill person AND an artist. stop doing that.

edit 3: do NOT put this on gore/guro blogs. thanks.

why does no one on this g-dforsaken website know how to write a proper apology it’s this simple

  1. this is what I did wrong
  2. it was bad of me
  3. I take full responsibility
  4. I will never do this again
Teenage Elia Martell Steals a Baby: a Very Short ASOIAF Fic
  • Doran: So, how did you guys like Casterly Rock?
  • Oberyn: *elaborate jerk-off motions*
  • Doran: ...okay, so probably not great. How about you, Elia?
  • Elia: *unwrapping cloak to reveal infant* I stole a baby, his name is Tyrion and I Love him.
  • Doran: can' can't steal babies. Probably not from anyone, and definitely not from the Lannisters.
  • Oberyn: Fuckin' watch her.
  • Elia: YEAH.
  • Doran: Why are you both like this. Does Mom know?
  • Princess of Dorne: *shouting from next room* Yes, I do, and Elia better not come crying to me if the Lannisters start pestering her to marry that baby!
  • Doran: What the hell is going on in the Westerlands?
  • Elia: *cooing at Baby Tyrion* Nothing that a GOOD SMALL BABY should have to deal with.
  • Oberyn: *even more elaborate jerk-off motions*

I am definitely not a langblr but I learned basic French and I am currently learning Korean starting with Hangul. There are a lot of things to be reminded whenever you are trying to learn a new language especially if you are new to the experience (like me lol).

1️⃣ It will take YEARS

Yes, believe me when I say that you will struggle. Those programs that claim that they will help you become fluent in a certain language in 3 months or less, they are probably over exaggerating. There is more in learning a language than just writing it and making sure you have proper spelling and it was translated correctly. You also need to understand it and be able to pronounce it properly with confidence. It’s just like learning your mother language, you were not able to be fluent in you mother language in just months or in just a year.

2️⃣ Starting with the characters is a must

If you are learning a language that requires you to use different characters, learn those characters first before the ‘translating game’. In learning Korean, you first need to learn Hangul, just like when you first learned English, you started with the Alphabet. After learning the characters, you can start forming words, and that is where the ‘translating game’ starts.

3️⃣ The struggle is real when learning the ‘accent’

This is the part where most struggle (including me lol). I struggled at pronouncing words in French mainly because I was not made to speak French (like how my the pitch of my voice gets higher whenever I speak English and drops down when I speak Filipino). It really does take time and many give up at this stage but since WE ARE STUDYBLRS, WE DON’T GIVE UP LIKE THAT.

4️⃣ The pressure is real when you try to use it IRL

I tried using French MANY times in real life when I have the opportunity to but then I just fail and make an embarrassment of myself and just go back to speaking Filipino or English and at the end, I will regret that I missed that opportunity. It will be hard to get yourself to confidently speak your new language especially if you don’t speak it enough (which is the reason for no. 3). But it is very important to have confidence in speaking it because if I hadn’t pushed myself to speak in front of many people in an unfamiliar language, then I wouldn’t be able to write and speak in English.

5️⃣ There will be times when you will lose motivation

For some people this is the first stage in giving up, but in terms of learning a language, this is completely normal. Yes you need to practice everyday in order to succeed but there will be days when you do not feel like it or it does not interest you anymore. Always remember to give yourself a rest because learning something out of your comfort zone can be tiring too. But there will also be days when you will wake up and feel motivated as if nothing can stand in your way and use that to your advantage and make up for lost time.

Idek if these actually help as I am not an expert and it no way can be labeled as a langblr or such but if it did, please like and reblog and follow my studygram (chrissiestudies) and tell me what other posts interest you because I am on summer vacation so I now have more time on Tumblr as opposed to before. 💕💕

The arts are not a way to make a living. They are a very human way of making life more bearable. Practicing an art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow, for heaven’s sake. Sing in the shower. Dance to the radio. Tell stories. Write a poem to a friend, even a lousy poem. Do it as well as you possibly can. You will get an enormous reward. You will have created something.
—  Kurt Vonnegut, A Man Without a Country.

no offense but gilmore girls did me wrong by not having an early seasons episode where luke begrudgingly pretended to be lorelai’s boyfriend to preserve her dignity after her date with rune

like, rune offers to be her pity date at another event that they’re going to with sookie and jackson (probably a very cutesy one, like a valentine’s day fundraiser for fruits and vegetables, because WHY NOT)

but in a way where he’s super, super, super insulting about it and definitely calls lorelai the jolly green giant because she made the unfortunate decision of wearing a green sweater on the day that rune and jackson bumped into her at doose’s and suggested this whole hideous mess.

and lorelai, who happened to bump into luke when she came into the store, is like, “actually, i don’t think my BOYFRIEND, LUKE DANES, would be too happy about that”

and luke distantly hears his name from across the store and looks over from where he stands, innocent and untouched by this madness, in the produce aisle.

… only to find that lorelai is barreling over to him mouthing, “YOU’RE MY BOYFRIEND! YOU’RE MY BOYFRIEND!” over and over

and luke on some level of course suddenly wonders if he’s dreaming, because it’s possible he had a dream sort of like this once. he doesn’t like to think about it. dreams are just unreliable brain garbage that don’t mean much of anything.

and then lorelai drags luke and the head of broccoli he’s clutching back over to jackson and rune, luke looking to the ceiling like he is begging god to strike him down at this very moment

and she announces, “yep, here’s my boyfriend! luke!”

“that guy? that guy’s your boyfriend?” rune says.

“yep!” lorelai chirps.

“really? him?” rune snorts.

“i said he was my boyfriend. yes, he is my boyfriend. what do you think i am, a compulsive liar?”

“it’s probably better for you not to say ‘what do you think i am?’ to rune,” jackson mumbles apologetically.

rune, meanwhile, looks baffled. “i dunno, i just don’t see why a handsome guy like him would …” rune is cut off by jackson violently elbowing him in the side.

“oh, i’m his girlfriend, all right,” lorelai fumbles. “and he … thinks i’m just the greatest. don’t you, h-honey…pie?” she slides her arm through his with all the desperate awkwardness in the world.

“the greatest,” luke grunts.

“the greatest? that? he needs to get some standards,” rune mutters perfectly audibly to jackson.

“hey!” luke thunders, waving the head of broccoli threateningly at rune. “you wanna say that again louder, pal?”

rune grimaces, holding his hands up in surrender to the broccoli. “okay, okay! she’s your girlfriend. for some reason.”

“she sure is,” luke declares, putting an arm around lorelai’s waist and pulling her closer to him.

and lorelai smiles a big smile of giddy shocked amusement, awed-slash-delighted that luke is IN THIS.

… and basically luke and lorelai go on a double date to some sappy function with sookie and jackson and RUNE, and it is the greatest and most terrible thing to ever happen, and lorelai also forever teases luke for being an object of beauty in rune’s eyes. and sookie probably repeatedly tries to get luke and lorelai to kiss, like a weird overly invested supporting character in a romcom movie.

LIKE, i am glad that we got little glimpses of luke and lorelai fake coupling over the years, but WE NEEDED A FULL STORYLINE OF THAT GOODNESS and we all know it.

Russ, J. (1983). How to suppress women’s writing. University of Texas Press.

The cover of Russ’s book does an excellent job of summarising its main argument: that women’s writing is deliberately devalued in a range of ways. It’s on the wrong subject matter, it’s the wrong genre, it’s morally objetionable, it’s not proper art. In 1983 Russ wasn’t writing specifically about fan fiction (yet), but fan fiction readers and writers will recognise these tactics employed against them. “She wrote about men banging! And it most definitely isn’t art - it’s derivative and unoriginal!”

One of my favourite moments in the book comes towards the end, when after some self-reflection Russ realises that she and other white women within academia and the feminist movement have been employing exactly the same tactics to devalue Black women’s writing. With recent debates on race in both fandom and Fan Studies, this powerful moment of realisation is worth keeping in mind.

Image description:

The cover of How to suppress women’s writing by Joanna Russ, which consists of the following text:

She didn’t write it. But if it’s clear she did the deed… She wrote it but she shouldn’t have. (It’s political, sexual, masculine, feminist.) She wrote it, but look what she wrote about. (The bedroom, the kitchen, her family. Other women!) She wrote it, but she wrote only one of it. (“Jane Eyre. Poor dear, that’s all she ever… “) She wrote it, but she isn’t really an artist, and it isn’t really art. (It’s a thriller, a romance, a children’s book. It’s sci fi!) She wrote it, but she had help. (Robert Browning. Branwell Brontë. Her own “masculine side.”) She wrote it, but she’s an anomaly. (Woolf. With Leonard’s help…) She wrote it BUT

It’s so upseting to see female friendships portrayed this way. The girls have been friends for almost two years, they know Sana, yet when she does something strange they get mad at her instead of asking why or trying to find out what it’s happening. And it’s not like Julie doesnt know how to write proper friendships, in s3 the boys knew that Isak was acting weird (even Mahdi who wasnt very close to him) and Jonas offered to talk many times. The girls have been so selfish and distant all the season, and now this “they dont like you as much anymore” it’s really awful to see. 

Each time we get a new live-action Batman, I’m perplexed as to why we never get a Robin. No, I don’t mean Chris O’Donnell reluctantly moving to Wayne Manor when it looks like he’s already 21 or older. I don’t mean Joseph Gordon Levitt inexplicably being referred to as Robin during the very last minutes of a trilogy. And I certainly don’t mean hints of a long-dead Robin, sacrificed as additional kindling to toss upon the pyre that is Bruce Wayne’s grief.

Why don’t we ever get eight-year-old Dick Grayson? Why can multiple animated series and comic book arcs introduce a young, vulnerable child into Batman’s life, can give him purpose and gravity in the narrative and allow him to develop into a partner and then a hero in his own right, while movies either avoid him entirely or warp him into something unrecognizable? People more familiar with Batman as a pop culture icon than a character with a long, established comic history tend to be those who dismiss Robin by claiming that Batman is an eternal loner. That we’re tarnishing his character by burdening him with a child sidekick, and that he must prowl the night in solitude or we’re denying the most essential parts of his persona.

Are you kidding me? Batman independently paid for the floating space clubhouse that his Justice League buddies meet in. He is instrumental in connecting the entire database of heroes that make up the DC universe. You’re threatened by the potential presence of Dick Grayson? Bruce—in precious canon!– has no less than five adopted/biological children: Dick, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Cassandra Cain, and Damian Wayne (and sometimes Helena Bertinelli). That’s not to mention the multiple young people he mentors: Barbara Gordon, Stephanie Brown, and Carrie Kelley in some continuities (and these same people will defend The Dark Knight Returns until their bitter deaths, so don’t you dare object to Carrie Kelley in the same damn breath).

I don’t think any other DC hero builds as large of an extended family as Batman constructs for himself. The Batfamily is legendary among the fanbase. Bruce loses his parents and he’s devastated and has obsessive and antisocial tendencies, sure. His gruffness is charming, even, but it’s a calculated presentation to conceal the brokenness at his heart. He seeks out troubled children to protect and guide again and again, because he doesn’t want them to develop his own self-destructive qualities. Everything that certain sectors of fandom glorify about Bruce, Bruce himself actively fights against seeing take root in any other vulnerable child. He trains them to serve Gotham City, but more importantly, he provides them with the stability to recover themselves from the brand of tragedy that shaped his own life. If you ask Bruce his greatest accomplishment, he’d say without hesitation, “Nightwing.”

If you think of Robin as a quippy sprite of a boy in bright colors and pixie boots, you’ve barely scratched the surface of what makes this character so important to the Batman mythos. He provides levity against Batman’s darkness, and it’s refreshing, sure. But he’s so essential to Bruce confronting his own trauma and development in being able to function as a team player—as an eventual member of the Justice League, which is a cornerstone of the upcoming films—that I honestly can’t wrap my brain around universes that exclude him. Dick’s presence forces Bruce to focus outside himself, and outside the single-mindedness of his mission. Batman needs Robin a lot more than Robin needs him, and the films consistently rob Bruce of one of the most significant bonds in his life.  

We have a new universe on the horizon, and the herald of a dead Robin before we even get started. I hope the DC films are satisfying and successful—truly, I do. But it makes me ask the same question I’ve had each time a Batman film has released during the last few decades: why are cinematic universes so threatened by the premise of a living child being a part of Batman’s world?