wear it without fear

My dear lgbt+ child, 

Happy Halloween! Did you know that halloween has a history as a lgbt holiday? 

-  The Castro, a district in San Francisco played host to an annual children’s costume contest starting in 1948. Back then, many (straight) families with kids lived there. 

- In the 1960s, most families moved to cheaper suburbs and instead “single men” moved into the district. Many of those “single men” were gay (many of them were expelled from the military for being lgbt+ and decided to stay in San Francisco instead of returning home and facing hate. San Francisco allowed to to find housing and employment.).

- As a result of that, gay bars opened in the district, which in turn attracted more lgbt+ people to move to The Castro. It became a “gay district”. 

- It was also home of the Black Cat Bar, a gay bar which featured the live entertainer José Sarria. Police raids of gay bars were routine back then and many people got arrested. José who was openly gay advised them to demand jury trials - now many courts were overloaded and judges began to expect actual evidence of a crime which resulted in less people being arrested. He became the first openly gay candidate in the United States to run for public office. 

- With The Castro known as a gay district, the annual children’s Halloween party turned into a adult lgbt+ event in 1979. Halloween became known as “the major holiday” for lgbt+ people. 

There are other history facts about lgbt+ Halloween: 

- If interviewed before 1969, lgbt+ people often wore masks to hide their face during the interview. Wearing a mask was a symbol for “being in the closet” which is one of the reasons why the stereotype “lgbt+ people love extravagant fashion/love dressing up” exists.   

- Halloween gave trans people a chance to wear clothes that represent their real gender without the fear of getting arrested (It was common to arrest trans people for wearing “deceiving” clothes). 

I hope all of you have a safe and happy Halloween! <3 

With all my love, 

Your Tumblr Mom

the best part of seeing ClexaCon things is to watch this place created to celebrate wlw - an actual, proper space. one you can treat the wlw characters like the heroes they are, where we can have a safe space for wlw around the world to go there and meet their favorite actresses, where these same actresses are celebrated and have the opportunity to have a firsthand experience of the impact their acting has - i know they go to other cons, but in these places being wlw is just secondary, it’s like you’re stealing a spot or enjoying the crumbs; while ClexaCon is about them, it’s there to celebrate them. You can see by the way the actresses are reacting to the crowds, they never saw so many people gathered because of their characters like this. We also have a space to discuss what representation means, how to do it better, what the shows and media in general are doing right now. We have a place where people who care about this can meet each other - and what can happen in the future because of this? They’re also empowering artists, journalists, youtubers and people in general that can speak for us. Besides that, ClexaCon is a place where wlw can be free to be themselves, wear their wlw shirt without fear, meet another fans and have the experience to see that they are valid. 

Everything we talked about through this year and before that are important issues, but they’re often invalidated, so having a con out there where we can see people talking about this is a way to humanize the discussion.

HTTYD 3 drabble: Berk: The Forever Home of Dragons

“This… is Berk. Once the home of the largest species of dragons, as well as the Alpha and only known living Night Fury. But that was ten years ago. Now… the dragons have left, and Berk is once again the village it was fifteen years ago. Home to only Vikings and livestock. Why? Because a chief and alpha had to make the hardest choice of their lives, for the better of their people. A chief, protects his own. And protecting… sometimes has hard consequences.”

While Hiccup narrates this, the camera travels through Berk, where only people and animals can be seen. No dragons, only traces of them. all of the dragons building are still there- the hanger and everything. Hiccup refused to get rid of them- they were the only things that reminded him of the dragons- and more specifically Toothless. Even though it caused pain to see them as a reminder, it also brought comfort.

Then the camera goes towards the landscape around Berk, towards a cliff that overhangs the ocean. There, Hiccup sits alone. Staring off into the distance where the dragons had disappeared all those years ago, and hadn’t been seen since. In his hands, he held Toothless’s saddle, the manual one that Hiccup had needed to help control. He fingers the worn leather sadly, a small sigh of longing escaping him.

Astrid steps up behind him, setting a hand on his shoulder reassuringly. Hiccup lifts a hand and places it on top of hers, his gaze still on the horizon. She steps forward and sits down beside him, her eyes also falling towards the horizon. She looks back at her thirty-year-old husband and chief, noting the bit of scruff on his chin, indicating that he’d forgotten to shave that morning.

After a while the two stand up and head back towards the village, where Hiccup is met by his two children, Stoick the second and Lili. The two children wish to go on a walk to the cove, which Hiccup visited often these days. So Hiccup and Astrid took their children to the worn path and began he trek to Raven’s Point. Stoick asks his father for a story: a story about the dragons and how they left. Hiccup sighed and nodded, picking up Stoick in his arms before beginning…

…Hiccup and his family have reached the cove by the time he finishes the story, and they’re all sitting on the ground by the small lake. Hiccup lifts his head and smiles sadly at his family, but Astrid’s eyes are wide and the kids are looking slightly afraid. Hiccup stares at them in confusion f or several seconds before he turns and looks at what they’re gaping at. He gasps in shock, feeling light-headed. There, standing on that rock where Hiccup had met Toothless for the second time, was a black Night Fury. The dragon stared at them before grinning gummily and jumping down, rushing over to Hiccup before colliding with him, pushing him to the ground. Hiccup stares at the dragon in shock, before he breaks down in a mixture of tears and laughing, hugging the dragon back tightly while burying his head into Toothless’s neck. “You came back, bud.” Hiccup whispers, but pauses when he hears another Night Fury shriek come from the rock formation. He looks up and sees yet another Night Fury step forward, followed by two minnie Nigh Fury’s. Not only that, but a Nadder that looked dizzily similar to Stormfly had landed not far from the rock, near the pond. Silence fell for a moment before Astrid shrieked and stood up, dumping Stoick on the ground in her mad haste to get to her dragon. Stormfly runs forward and the two meet in a fierce hug, Astrid crying fervently.

Hiccup stood up and hugged Toothless again, only then realizing how much bigger Toothless had grown. He was about a foot taller, and his wing span was also longer. Hiccup opened his eyes and looked down Toothless’s back, noticing the automatic tailfin still attached to Toothless’s tail. It had been surgically placed in, so that it wouldn’t come off and Toothless could wear it without fear of it falling apart.

Hiccup pulls away, his hands holding onto Toothless’s head. He smiles through the tears, while Toothless grins back at him, the dragon’s butt wagging back and forth in his joy, much like a dog would do. Hiccup hugs him again- tighter this time. He never wanted to let go, for fear that his dragon would fly off again and never return.

But finally Hiccup pulls back, as had Astrid from Stormfly. Toothless turned around and cooed towards the other Night Fury’s, who cautiously crawled down the rock and towards the humans. Hiccup steps forward and holds out a hand slowly to the dragons. The large Night Fury hesitates, but the younger ones immediately bump their heads into his palm. Toothless steps closer to Hiccup, his tail wrapping around his human. The other Night Fury looks from Toothless to Hiccup before stepping forward and also placing its head into Hiccup’s palm. The chief smiles happily, then looks at Toothless for an explanation.

“A family.” Astrid whispers from behind him. “He has a family, Hiccup!”

Hiccup stares at them in awe, before turning to look back at Toothless. Toothless is staring at Stoick and Lili wondrously, looking back at Hiccup in curiosity.

Hiccup smiled and held out a hand, motioning for Stoick and Lili to step closer. “These are my kids, Toothless. And Astrid’s my wife now.”

Toothless sniffs at Stoick, making the small boy flinch in fear. Hiccup smiled and took Stoick’s hand, showing him how to hold it out. Stoick did so slowly at first, but then he smiled happily when Toothless licked it and began to coo happily. The small Night Furies came up and began nudging at Lili and Stoick, making the children laugh and giggle before picking up the small dragons. Astrid smiles and comes to stand beside Hiccup, Stormfly close by her side. Astrid had one hand on Stormfly’s head, the other going to wrap around Hiccup’s shoulders, hugging him happily.

Squawking, roaring, and the sound of flapping wings can be heard from above. Hiccup, Astrid, and the kids stare up at the sky in wonder and shock. There were hundreds of dragons- hundreds- flying in the direction of Berk. Hiccup’s eye found Cloudjumper among them, as well as SkullCrusher, Grump, Hookfang, Barch, Meatlug, and all the other dragons that had once lived on Berk- plus others. Hiccup looked to Astrid, who looked back at him with an overjoyed smile on her face.

Toothless had returned, the other dragons had returned. It was like a wonderful dream come true, but Hiccup knew that the dragon standing before him was very much real.

Hiccup then turned back to Toothless, hugging him again.

“This… is Berk.” The camera zooms in on the island, showing the hanger where dragons were once again inhabiting. “Yes, dragons once didn’t inhabit this island- for ten years they were absent.” The camera goes through the village, showing dragons perched on top of buildings while others were looking around for their owners. It shows the original “gang” each reacquainting with their dragons, Fishleg’s with tears and laughs, while Snotlout just walks up in shock before hugging Hoofkang fiercely. The twins start shouting words of joy before attacking their dragon, and before long the two and dragon are rolling about on the ground. Valka hugs Cloudjumper without any words, only tears, while Grump just simply lands on top of an unsuspecting Gobber, effectively smushing the large man in a bone crushing hug.

“But they returned.” Camera then shows Hiccup stepping out from the forge, holding Toothless’s old saddle in his hands. Toothless jumps up and down in excitement, moving closer while Hiccup begins to strap it on.

“And with an unspoken promise to never leave.” Camera then shows Hiccup climbing onto Toothless’s back, zooming out to show Astrid on top of Stormfly. Hiccup smiles at Toothless, who grins back before he pushes his foot in the pedal, the now manual tailfin adjusting position.

Toothless jumps into the air, Hiccup whooping in joy. Stormfly and Astrid join them, and soon Valka does as well, (Stoick and Lili in her lap). The “gang” swoop up and join as they go, but before long Toothless and Hiccup began to pick up speed.

“yes. This is the Berk as we know it, and always will. The forever home… of dragons.”

Hiccup and Toothless fly up onto the large mountain stack over Berk, Toothless letting out a fierce roar while Hiccup just stared at his village, a smile of complete contentment and joy on his face.

The End.

hidradenitis suppurativa

This post is for all the people like me who have an illness that hardly anyone has even hered of, never mind found a cure. To all of the people who go to the hospital every 6 weeks to be prodded and poked by someone who has never dealt with this condition before. To all of the people who are told not to shave/wear deodorant in fear of a flare up. To the people who cannot wear vest tops without something covering their arms, as they fear the looks they will get when they lift their arms. To the people who are in agony when they lift their arms or even just walk around. To the people that are told “there’s nothing I can do” and “it’s incurable, medication can help to control but never get rid of it”. This post is to the people like me who deal with hidradenitis suppurativa every day, yet no one seems to understand how much we hurt. To all of these people, you are strong and beautiful no matter how you may feel, and i am here for anyone that needs me.

This Town || Peter Parker x Reader [[request]]

[[request prompt: okay i’m so happy that you’re taking requests again and i was wondering if you could do a peter x reader based on the song ‘this town’ by niall horan??.]]

Omg anon I absolutely adore this song???

I hope this meets your expectations ahhhhh ♡

also! I want to dedicate this to @toms-spidey because they were just so kind to me last night! I found myself smiling so much, and I just ugh, thank you for making my night ♡ you’re the best, Charissa!

please Picture Tom Holland’s spiderman/Peter Parker for this story!!

**I apologize for any grammatical errors since this was all written on my phone. When it’s posted then I’ll make sure to edit it a few more times just in case!**

warnings: a dash of angst with some fluff in the end ♡

tags: {anonymous}

{{request status: open}}

Don’t repost/plagiarize this story! Reblogs are fine!

——————————

{everything comes back to you.}

Peter Parker was truly a pathetic man. Even at 23, he still felt as though he hadn’t learn a damn thing.

All his life, he had only loved one girl, and the same girl was quickly slipping through his fingers.

Peter had met [Full Name] on the day he moved in with his Aunt May and Uncle Ben in their two bedroom apartment. He was quiet when he first moved in with them and felt terribly homesick. His parents had just passed away, and he always felt like he didn’t belong, like he didn’t have a place to call home.

Not used to being in such an unfamiliar home, Peter wakes up in the middle of the night. He throws back the covers and tiptoes out of his aunt and uncle’s apartment with fresh tears in his eyes. Only when Peter was outside of his apartment did he slide down the front door, allowing his tears to fall freely as choked sobs escaped from his chapped lips.

Too caught up in his own misery, Peter didn’t notice the door settled across from him open, nor did he see the young girl who wiped the sleep away from her eyes as she stepped closer to him. The girl notices his trembling form first when she kneeled down next to him. She doesn’t ask any questions, just simply wrapped her arms around his back.

Peter felt a pressure behind him and immediately stiffened, looking up to see a girl around his age gazing at him with comforting (color) eyes. Seeing the cute girl, Peter felt his face redden with embarrassment, knowing that his face was a mess of snot and salty tears. In a vain attempt to clean himself, Peter wipes his nose with the sleeve of his sweater, “I-I uhm, I just-”

“Ssssh, it’s okay. I know that you’re sad. What’s wrong?” The kindness in her voice seemed to ease his tears a bit, the gentle stream stopping to that of momentary droplets when Peter sniffs and admitted to her, “I miss my mom and dad. They died in an accident, and now I don’t have anyone.”

The girl was quiet for a few seconds, not saying a word. Suddenly, Peter felt her arms wrap around his form, bringing him closer to her when she tells him with a happy smile, “That’s not true! You have me from now on! I’m [Name], what’s your name?”

As if all of his sadness melted away from just being near her and seeing her smile, Peter felt his tears stop altogether before he flashed her his own tiny smile, “I-I’m Peter.”

And they had been inseparable since.

{and i want to tell you everything, the words i never got to say the first time around}

When Peter realized his true feelings for [Name] at the ripe age of 15, what prevented him from confessing to her was his own cowardice.

[Name] was just so beautiful and kind. She was raised by loving parents who taught her to be forgiving and fair, and Peter was honestly so grateful to them for the fact that this amazing girl existed. Without [Name] in his life, Peter was sure that he would turn into some cynic who hated life in general.

He would always be grateful for the unconditional love [Name] had given him, and he had every intention of telling her his feelings-

until the bite happened.

When the radioactive spider had bitten him during a class field trip, he tried to act like he was okay. That nothing would change.

But as the days past, and his body would suddenly feel feverish, he could feel something changing from within him. When he woke up the next morning to see that his body had become less scrawny and a bit more filled with some muscle, his aunt and uncle had been pleasantly surprised. Despite their initial shock, they passed it off as Peter going through puberty and thought nothing of it.

And how oh so wrong they were in the end.

Peter wouldn’t realize his power until a few days later, and it wouldn’t be until a tragedy struck that would change him into the superhero he was today.

Realizing that he could sense things before it happened, coupled along with how weirdly strong he became (along with his abilities to climb walls), Peter began to abuse his powers. He strayed far away from [Name] and his aunt and uncle, not answering any of their concerned calls or texts as he explored the city without a single hint of fear.

Wearing a makeshift mask, Peter would wander around Queens, and whenever he saw one of his bullies, he would pick a fight with them. Knowing that they couldn’t stand a chance against him, he would beat them within seconds, having them cry out as they begged for him to stop.

The rush he felt back then had been indescribable as he thought to himself, So this is what it feels like to be on top.

One late night, when he was bored with picking fights, he felt someone run into him. He looks to his front to see a shady man wearing a torn hoodie carrying a loaded bag in his hand.

“OI GET BACK HERE! THAT’S ALL OF MY CASH! Someone, ANYONE, stop him!”

With a scoff, Peter ignored the man’s cries, believing that such crimes were none of his business; that the police could handle it. He was a selfish bastard that truly didn’t have a care in the world for thinking that way.

His Uncle Ben was the first to notice the change in him, and Peter remembers the day he had lost him like it was yesterday.

He walked with Peter around Queens, telling Peter that he had somehow changed for the worst. His behavior was out of character, and he had been making his aunt and best friend worry about him.

“[Name] has come by so many times, only to feel disappointed when you’re not around. She’s been so sad lately, Peter, and she misses her best friend.”

Peter ignored the way his heart clenched at the sound of her name. When his uncle placed an arm on his shoulder, he quickly shrugged it off, “Why can’t you understand that I have changed for the better! I can finally defend myself and-”

Suddenly, gunshots were heard when his uncle quickly pulls him to the ground, “Stay down, Peter!”

“Uncle Ben, wait-” but the older man ignores him, seeing the gunman running toward him when he stops him. The criminal struggles against his uncle for a few minutes before quickly firing his gun, making the bullet lodge directly into his abdomen.

“UNCLE BEN!” Peter stands, catching sight of the guy who ran away as he recognized him as being the same man he didn’t stop that day.

I’m such a fool!

His panicked cries echo throughout the city as he screamed for help. He tried to stop the blood from blooming against Uncle Ben’s abdomen, but there was just so much of it.

A few minutes later, his uncle died while his hands were stained with his blood. Peter would never forget the deep crimson hue that painted his pale skin, serving as a constant reminder that he did this to him.

He had been the cause of his uncle’s death.

Broken and riddled with guilt, Peter didn’t go to school for days, making Aunt May even more worried about him. She told him on so many occasions that Ben’s death was not his fault, but he never believed her. Peter knew the truth; he knew what he did that day, and he had let that criminal run free.

If I had stopped him that day, then Uncle Ben would still be here today!

Consumed with his thoughts and guilty conscience, Peter felt so depressed that he couldn’t even move.

As if knowing that he was suffering, May leaves him alone for a few minutes, not saying a word when a knock was heard against the front door.

He was grateful for the distraction, needing to be left alone when someone knocked at his bedroom door.

“Peter?” He stiffens, hearing her voice as he buried himself deeper into the blankets.

He couldn’t speak, only managing to let out uneven sobs when he felt [Name] lean over him in his bed. She runs a gentle hand through his hair before placing a kiss against his damp forehead, “You have me, you’ll always have me.”

Her words were the catalyst that made Peter suddenly pull her to him, wrapping his shaky arms around her form as he buried his face within the crook of her neck. He cries against her, allowing [Name] to soothe him with her gentle touch.

I love you, but I’m a monster that doesn’t deserve you. I know I don’t deserve you, but please, don’t leave me. I need you.

{i saw that you moved on with someone new in the pub that we met he’s got his arms around you it’s so hard so hard}

Peter always knew that [Name] was the only girl he would ever love, yet what prevented him from telling her was how he was living a double life.

Using his uncle’s death as his motivation, Peter quickly became a masked hero known as Spider-Man. His alter ego had attracted the attention of many people as he quickly became the protector of Queens.

Through his battles, Peter knew that he made a number of enemies and would never bring himself to involve [Name]. His distance and (feigned) lack of romantic interest in her was what prompted the young woman to find love with someone new.

Although it broke Peter’s heart each time, he tried to convince himself that as long as she was happy, that it was okay.

That he was doing the right thing for her sake.

Yet, every time he saw her, she would give him the most melancholic expression. It was almost an expectant look, like she was waiting for Peter to do something.

But Peter was always afraid to find out what she wanted, constantly reminding himself that [Name’s] safety was of the utmost importance.

Now, years later, Peter realized that things would never break even for him when it came to [Name]. She was engaged to this guy she had been going steady with-

And their wedding was today.

Peter was invited, but he knew that he could never go because it hurt too much. Just seeing the girl of his dreams in the arms of some other man was enough to make his blood boil with an aching jealousy. He knew that if he was at the ceremony, then he would immediately object to the marriage before whisking [Name] away in his arms.

But he couldn’t take her away, regardless of how much he wanted to.

So he drowns his sorrows by swinging around the city, looking for any signs of trouble when he lands against an empty rooftop. His thoughts were interrupted when he sees a white figure in his periphery. Gazing down at the street, he feels his senses begin to tingle when a woman in a pure white dress runs out into the road.

Not even thinking twice, Peter swings downward and captures the woman in his arms, swinging away from the incoming traffic with the woman’s dress fluttering behind her. He doesn’t look at the woman until he lands against another rooftop, “Miss, are you-”

His words die against his throat, seeing [Name] herself in his arms as tears ran down her face. Her makeup was running, and she wouldn’t stop crying when she clung on to the front of his suit, “Oh god, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!”

Peter feels his heart galloping from within his chest and quickly comforts her, “Ssssh, it’s gonna be okay. What’s wrong, honey? Why aren’t you at your wedding?”

She shakes her head, “Th-There is no wedding. My e-ex, I found him cheating on me before the ceremony, and I feel so awful. B-But maybe this is what I d-deserve.”

Peter’s heart was practically breaking now, “Baby, you don’t deserve this. You don’t deserve any of this, so what makes you say that?”

“B-Because all my life, I’ve only ever l-loved Peter!” He stiffens at her confession, feeling her tears soak into his suit when she cried against him, “S-Spider-Man, you have to understand. All of the guys that I have dated always knew that I didn’t completely love them! E-even my fiancé did, that’s why th-there’s no wedding.”

{you still make me nervous when you walk into the room them butterflies they come alive when i’m next to you over and over the only truth}

“Oh [Name], I’m so fucking sorry!”

He catches her questioning glance, already knowing that she was confused as to how he knew her name.

Without a hint of hesitation, Peter rips off his mask, fully revealing himself to [Name]. She gasps as a myriad of emotions ran though her eyes, but one thing rang strong within her expression-

And that was love.

“P-Peter-” he stops her from speaking with a hungry kiss, conveying all of the love he felt for her before crushing her to his chest. “I’ve loved you for forever now, since the time I had lost my parents and you had promised me that I always had you; since the day I lost my uncle and you were still with me as I made a silent promise to myself to become a hero that you could be proud of.”

[Name’s] sobs didn’t lessen, even when she smiled and jokingly punched him in his chest, “Y-You jerk! How could you keep such a secret from me?”

He flashes her an apologetic smile before hugging her again, “I’m sorry. All I wanted to do was protect you.”

“Jerk, I’ll never forgive you!“ [Name] looks away from him, sniffing a bit before slowly continuing, "But…I-If you want to make it up to me, then you have to listen carefully to what I say next.”

Peter lifts up her chin so that she was looking at him. Even with her makeup running as her eyes glistened with unshed tears, Peter swore that she was still the most beautiful girl in the world to him, “Anything, I’ll do anything. I would take a bullet for you, walk through glass and open fire for you. All you have to do is ask, and I’ll do it.”

She shakes her head and leans toward him before whispering against his lips, “You silly dork, all you have to do is spend the rest of your life with me to make up for all of the years that we haven’t been together.”

“It’s a deal.” Peter mutters passionately before sealing his promise with a deep kiss. He wraps his arms around her back, finally gathering his courage as he swore to always keep her by his side.

This time, Peter was going to love [Name] like he had been wanting to ever since he was a child.

{everything comes back to you. everything comes back to you.}

[end]

Lysander Headcanons

1. What they smell like:
He smells like his really fancy perfume; it has a sharp, clean scent that cut through other smells, so he knows he will never smells bad. His perfume has a light lemon-like scent with a pinch of bergamot.

2. How they sleep (sleeping position, schedule, etc):
He always sleeps at the same time. 10:30PM. He never remembers his dreams and is a heavy sleeper. More than often he won’t hear his alarm clock and Leigh has to wake him up to not miss school.

3. What music they enjoy:
Like Castiel, he enjoys rock music. He prefers genres that are melodic and have softer voices, so he can sing along better. He also enjoys classical music.

4. How much time they spend getting ready every morning:
About 15 minutes; spends most of the time taking care of his hair.

5. Their favourite thing to collect:
Loves collecting fountain pens. He thinks they are beautiful and they inspire him to write more. He thinks he always needs to write more.

6. Left or right-handed:
Left-handed but has been training himself to be able to write with both hands for a while now.

7. Religion (if any):  
His parents are pretty religious and Lysander and his brother are thankful for the values they were taught. Now they prefer to follow their own beliefs but are respectful towards their parents. They will go to church with them when visiting day on a Sunday.

8. Favourite sport:
He doesn’t really care about sports but likes physical activity. Will go to PE classes without complaining.

9. Favourite touristy thing to do when travelling:
He loves visiting historical sites and to learn about them. Also enjoy visiting old churches and local parks, so he can gather some inspiration for his writing.

10. Favorite kind of weather:
He likes when it’s a bit cloudy, but too cold. He thinks a day like that is the perfect opportunity to enjoy the day, since it won’t be too hot or cold. His favorite season is fall, because it’s cold enough to wear his kind of clothes without overheating.

11. A weird/obscure fear they have:
He’s afraid of being forgotten. Due to his memory loss problem and recent amnesia, he realized how terrifying it is to forget someone. One of the reasons he writes so much is that he can always be able to remember himself, but will other people? That’s his biggest fear.

12. The carnival/arcade game they always win without fail:
Anything that requires a good level of concentration and patience.

anonymous asked:

Every type of person should be able to say/do/wear/draw what they want without fear of 'cultural appropriation' or 'fetishising' or what other bullshit, as long as it isn't hateful

You had me at first I must admit

anonymous asked:

Hi! Because of recent posts I'm curious to ask. What exactly is your opinion on "white people brown facing" anime/cartoon characters? I can understand when people say it reminds them of times where white ppl painted their face black to make fun of poc and it's racist. But time's changed and we don't want to represent a race, but a personality/character we love when we cosplay? It's just sad to see hate when hate wasn't intended? Isn't cosplay art of imitation? What do you think?

Uh You may not think hate is involved, but every single dark skinned person who has tried cosplay has received hateful comments solely about their skin being “wrong” for the character.

That’s it, that’s the experience. Before you even lift a scissors you’re ‘wrong’ and a 'bad’ Cosplay… Fortunately this attitude is changing but I haven’t met one POC cosplayer who hasn’t gone through this.

Pale people rarely have this experience because SO MANY characters are pale.

Now you, faced with a character not pasty and skin as white as snow, your skin is always “right” so I guess you think the easy solution is to paint yourself and escape getting called “the white Allura” for example.

This is not the solution this is literally the whole problem.

🙄 how do you expect to not receive backlash considering the history of brown/black face?

POC haven’t been even allowed to wear their own skin comfortably without fear of ridicule 😑 but YOU want to do it?

Look if you’re brownfacing you’re going to get the clap back for wearing somebody’s race for them.

(Cough as for your white anime fan 'they are a Japanese character from Japan’ BUT THeY R TOTallY wHITE and I headcanon X and Y and Z white models as live action for THeM crowd, you’re on your own special level of embarrassment)

OTL …..spend time and effort on that costume you love and you should be recognizable with or without the accompanying level of melanin.

If your MAIN GOAL is to match the character all the way down to skin tone (outside of your race) anyway then maybe you should rethink who you want to Cosplay as.

TLDR; I don’t like seeing brown/blackface. POC don’t consider it a kind homage, it’s an act of ridicule.

pricklyest  asked:

if I only ever read one issue of daredevil which one should it be

Daredevil (2011) #7, no doubt! 

[Image: the cover of issue 7. Matt, in full Daredevil costume, is lying on the top of a snow-covered water tower. He’s grinning and making snow angels.]

It’s a really soft and fluffy solo issue that doesn’t require knowledge of the rest of the series or Daredevil history, and it won the 2012 Eisner Award for Best Single Issue. It’s also very funny in places (it’s the issue with the “I’m Not Daredevil” sweater).  

[Image: Daredevil panel. Matt stands, arms outstretched, grinning. He shouts, “Happy holidays, people!” He wears a sweater that reads “I’m Not Daredevil” and a little devil horns headband. In one hand he holds a white and red striped crooked cane that looks like a candy cane, with mistletoe on the end. Foggy is in the background, looking sad and wearing an antler headband.]

In it, Matt takes a group of children from the Cresskill School for the Blind on a field trip, but their bus crashes, leaving Matt and the kids alone and lost in the snow in the Catskills. Matt is really good with kids, canonically, and this issue has a bunch of moments that just like… make my heart hurt with it. 

[Image: Daredevil panel. Matt, in his Daredevil costume, with torn clothes over it, kneels in front of a little girl, who is crying. Matt puts a hand comfortingly on her shoulder. “Sydney? What is it, honey?”]

Rather than being exclusively a narrative about, like, a supercrip (who therefore takes on the role of a nondisabled person) rescuing regular crip kids (symbolizing and infantilizing disabled people generally), it’s actually a story about, like, uniting under stress, and using the skills and knowledge that you have, and disabled people working together.

Not only is it really cute and sweet but it also (at least somewhat) contradicts this narrative of disabled weakness/helplessness in crisis, and it shows the amazing things Daredevil could be as a series if Matt could just… interact with and work with and be supported by other disabled people. Like 90% of what I want in my life is for Matt to have disabled friends, honestly, and Matt mentoring disabled kids is pretty damn great too. 

Like, this in the context of Matt being “the man without fear”: 

[Image: Matt, wearing a sweater that reads “I’m Not Daredevil,” swirls a glass of wine. He says, “Getting them out of their comfort zone for a day or two gives them a chance to experience new things and find out it won’t hurt them.]

The issue is written by Mark Waid, who did the rest of that run, and has art by Paolo Rivera. Rivera is really good at working with Matt’s cane, and this issue also includes a bunch of other blind/low vision kids who use different styles of canes and tech. It’s just generally like a warm and soft issue and I care about it a lot. 

[image: Daredevil panel. Syndney, one of the Cresskill kids, sits on a high countertop, legs over the edge. She holds a steaming cup of soup, Matt’s long white guide cane leaning against the counter next to her.]

9:03 a.m. she’s sitting on the porch step, blue fingered, a mortal body and a timeless soul, watching the sun blend early shades into the crisp morning. her bike leans waiting on the little wall her father built when she was a little girl, careless with her eyes closed and her heart moving without one hundred pounds of fear wearing her down-

tell me dear, what do you dream of at night?

a) riding your bike out into the fields with your arms wide open and the wind blowing stories in your hair

b) flying high on pixie dust and fighting crocodiles who swallowed clocks like sand in an hourglass

c) taking the leap of faith down into the ocean with your arms closed around you in a tight embrace and all your worries swallowed behind a row of perfect teeth

tell me dear, do you dream at all anymore?

9:38 a.m. she’s sitting on the porch step, blue fingered, a mortal body and a timeless soul,  the sun already whispering in her face. the street smells sweet and warm, like hot chocolate on a winter’s day. the world lies waiting for her with rough edges and biting charms. she rises up and takes her bike on her way to school.

- she forgot how to fly | r.m

im-too-obssesed  asked:

Lumiere and Stanley

Stanley has never eaten so much in his life.

“More! Have more!” The man at his shoulder is pouring him more wine—which he really doesn’t need—and piling onto his plate dainty macarons, huge piles of vegetables, thick cheeses. Stanley doesn’t know many of the staff here—he’s always been a village boy, not much up on the court and its courtiers—but this one keeps circling back to him, showing kindness that Stanley can’t imagine he deserves.

There is talk and cheer all around the table, but he isn’t talking much. He’s still reeling from the last hour: the sun ripping out from the clouds, the villagers crying out as they remembered, all these fine and dainty folk coming from nowhere. And before that hour, a battle—and a dress—and a dress! That he was wearing! Wearing without fear!

The man slides into a seat beside him. He’s eating some bread as if it were the finest thing in the world—savoring every bite, as if this crust means more to him than gold.

“I was a golden candelabra,” says the man, casually. He smiles over the bread at Stanley, and his eyes wink.

“O-oh? I…I met a wardrobe.”

“You did more than meet her, mon ami; you inspired her. I hope you enjoy being the muse of the most fashionable woman in Europe.” Somehow Lumiere has found an entire roasted chicken. He’s plowing through it by himself.

“I—what?”

“She’s only ever focused on dressing women,” says Lumiere. “But she’s quite taken with you. Peas? No? More for me.” By heaven, you’d think the man was hollow by how much he was eating.

“So…I can keep wearing ballgowns?”

“Keep? You mean you don’t already wear them all the time?”

“Gaston thought that—”

“Gaston could barely wear heels that were more than half an inch high,” snorts Lumiere. “Play with someone your own size. And keep wearing pink. It’s your color.”

Stanley tries to find words. He was never too great with courtier’s speech—but, thankfully, there are some gestures shared by villagers and palace staff.

“Want some more cake?”

“Mon ami, you have no idea how badly.”

The more I go closer to islam, the less I want to live in a western country (especially usa). 

I want to live in a place where I can really connect to people because we have the same beliefs and morals, I want to live in a place where I won’t have to explain why I don’t eat out even though I’m not vegetarian/vegan, I want to live in a place where I don’t have to keep making excuses for not attending “BYOB” and swim parties, I want to live in a place where we can all walk to the masjid, I want to live in a place where the city will be filled with salam, I want to live in a place where I won’t be judged for practicing my faith (which happens in many muslim countries too but at least I won’t be in fear of violence), I want to live in a place where I can pray where I am without fear, I want to live in a place where I can eat out without worrying if it’s halal, I want to live in a place where the adhaan calms the city, I want to live in a place where there are more resources to learn islam, I want to live in a place where elders will tell me stories of prophets, I want to live in a place where I can tell stories to young ones and enlighten them with the knowledge I have, I want to live in a place where I can wear my hijab without fear, I want to live in a place where we can celebrate Eid without holding back. My heart yearns for this. It really does.

Torn

Requested** Could you do something along the lines of your best friend not liking Harry for some reason and she sleeps over and Harry is just sort of shot down by your friend and he gets all sad and cuddly??? 

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Why I love Ilvermorny...

It’s not because it’s an American, and I get to learn more about the place which I live and how it apples to a world I’ve loved as a child - though I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t a small part. Ilvermorny allows a fresh start. In the original novel we start out with an animosity toward Slytherin, it’s labeled by the characters. Gryffindor is good, Slytherin is bad, Raven claws are smart, and it leaves Hufflepuffs as ‘the nice ones’. 

Here we can all wear our house pride and without fear of being joked about, because there aren’t any labels attached to it. There is now bad, good, weak labels and stigma attached. I know were all proud of our Hogwarts house, I know I am, but isn’t it lovely that there’s no one who laugh when you say you’re a Pukwudgie? No one wondering if you’re sane like they do if you claim to be a Slytherin? 

J.K. Rowling has once again given us a fresh world of magic, and I hope everyone is enjoying it as much as I am.