i loved girl meets world as much as the next disney-channel-watching-teenager.
i know they didn’t get to show all thee things that could’ve been done with gmw. i know they were restricted from many things they wanted to do. i know the show could’ve went much farther than it did. i know that. we all know that.
but what many gmw fans have been preaching is how they wanted more representation, more diversity, and now we have it with andi mack. we have a cast that’s predominantly poc, interracial marriage, a plot line about an issue that’s seldom spoken about on disney, and a boy who practically melts while talking to another boy (and will very likely end up being very gay/bi/pan/anything but straight really).
it’s about middle schoolers–and you can’t say it’s “too young a demographic,” because that’s how we started with gmw–just middle school kids who are represented as just that, and going through life one step at a time, tackling different conflicts that come up. the twist is needed. it’s refreshing, and can be very real for some kids who may feel out of place for being in a situation like that. it’s a nice way to show that there are people out there like them, and that these things can happen, and that they’re not alone, and that they are valid.
boycotting this show because it’s not a continuation of gmw makes me sick, and confused. when’s the last time you’ve seen a show on disney channel centered around an asian-american family? when was the last time you’ve seen on disney the story of a girl who was raised to believe her real mother was her sister? correct me if i’m wrong, but this is what disney needs, especially after losing a show like gmw that was unable to reach its full potential.
the acting is pretty good, the cast is goddamn adorable, it’s created by THE terri minsky, the amazing woman who was responsible for the awesome show lizzie mcguire. plus it’s got less restrictions, way less than gmw had.
this doesn’t mean this show will ever be gmw. no show will ever be gmw, and i don’t think it would be fair to even compare the two shows just yet, if at all. but i know for a fact that rowan and corey and sabrina and amir would want you guys to give this show a chance (dare i say especially sabrina, since she sings the damn theme song), because it’s change, but it’s a good change, and it deserves to be given a fighting chance.
we can’t do this if people don’t put the pettiness aside, and give this show a chance. this show is important.
Happy birthday to the wonderful, amazing, inspiring, fantasmagorical, beautiful, brilliant, strong, incredible Queen Alex Kingston ❤ While I’m not obsessively tweeting and reblogging everything about you like I did when I was 13, you’re still my hero! Much love and have a wonderful day!🎉❤❤❤
Honestly, if it wasn’t for my not wanting to miss when Harry does something, I’d be outta here for the next month.
Like, have none of you heard music before? Sometimes it’s literal, sometimes it’s not. Sometimes it’s about someone, sometimes it’s about lots of different people, or sometimes it’s about the fantasy person they have in their head. Sometimes, it’s about a dog (hello Martha by the Beatles).
What baffles me is that we spend most of our time fascinated and discussing Harry’s sex life, but they minute he actually discusses sex the entire fandom becomes a mess. Does it really matter who the songs are about? Like, really? In the grand scheme of things, who gives a fuck?
Just enjoy the music, and enjoy Harry smiling, wearing pink suits. Grow the fuck up.
That’s How a Moment Lasts Forever - Post-BatB Oneshot
“Why do you keep
so many tea sets?”
The old man
chuckled, leaning back in his armchair as he watched his littlest
grandchild. While her two older siblings had chosen to play outside
in the snow, she stared at his bookcase, which, instead of being
filled with books, was lined with teapots and teacups made of wood,
porcelain, and china.
“Well, you know
your father’s a potter; he gives me the ones that no one wants.”
“But do you even
use them?” the girl asked. “They’ve got chips and cracks in
them. They wouldn’t make good tea.”
definitely your mother’s daughter,” the old man replied. “I
suppose…I keep them because they deserve a home, a place to
The girl raised her
eyebrows. “You make it sound like they’re alive.”
old man’s voice took on a spooky tone. “Sometimes they talk to me
The girl laughed.
“No they don’t!”
“No, they don’t,”
he agreed, laughing in return. “But can’t an old man have his
hobbies? I like antiques! I’m a collector, always have been! You
see that?” He pointed at a tiny, intricately decorated box on the
mantel above the fireplace. “It plays a lullaby if you open it.
The king’s grandfather made that for me when I was a boy.”
tea sets were momentarily forgotten as the little girl ran over to
the mantel and seized the box in her hands.
man raised a gnarled hand, but there was no need; the girl set the
box down with the utmost care. She lifted open the box, revealing a
tiny, incredibly detailed replica of a rose. The rest of the inside
was gold and cornflower blue, with a castle painted on the inside of
the lid. She located the winding handle on the side, and with a nod
from her grandfather, wound it up and let it play.
At once, a little
melody, strong but sweet, began to emit from the box, causing the
rose to rotate slowly in place. The girl sat, entranced by the box,
while the man closed his eyes and hummed along.
“You won’t find a
box like that anywhere else,” he finally said. “That’s why it’s
The girl waited
until the last notes faded away, then looked up at her grandfather to
ask him a question. But what she saw startled her into concern
rather than curiosity.
Grandfather!” She rushed forward, drawing out her handkerchief to
wipe his tears away. The song was beautiful, yes, but it wasn’t a
song that should be cried over!
He smiled and let her wipe away his tears. “You are very kind. My
mother used to sing that song for me.” He didn’t need to say the
“Oh,” the girl
whispered. “I’m sorry.”
“You didn’t know,”
the old man reassured her, smiling. “Besides, I let that old box play every day, and you don’t see me crying all the time, do you?”
“No,” the girl answered, grinning. “You’re very cheerful.”
“Well that’s good,” he exclaimed. “I’m glad I didn’t grow up to be an old grump like my father did.”
They sat in silence for a few more minutes; she admiring the music box, and he gazing at the tea sets in the bookcase that he kept so well polished that the imperfections shone in the light.
“Do you want to know the real reasons behind the tea sets?” he asked suddenly, waking the girl from her short-lived reverie. “Why I look after them like I do? You have to promise not to laugh or walk away.”
The little one shrugged, but sidled up to her grandfather’s armchair. “Okay. Tell me.”
“Do you promise not to laugh?”
“I promise.” Her eyes gazed up at him, wide and trusting.
“It’s because I used to be one myself.”
The girl sat there, eyes wide, lips parted slightly in surprise. She wanted to ask if it was a joke, but the old man looked completely serious. And she was just at that age where she was learning to take care of herself, but still young enough to believe in fairy stories, if they were spun the right way.
The old man’s lips curled into a real, genuine smile, one that only children would understand. “Magic.”
“What happened?” the girl’s voice was barely a whisper.
“Well…sit back a little, and I’ll tell you,” the man replied. “I was your age when this story took place. It started with a spoiled prince, an old enchantress, and a young farm girl who saved us all…”
“You used to work at the castle?” the girl said after he had finished his tale.
“Well, it was mostly my mother; she was the head housekeeper. I followed in the steps of my father, became a potter, and when I had your father, I taught him as well. Hopefully your older siblings will carry on the family business for me.”
“I bet they will.” The girl slumped in her chair. But soon she straightened up again. “Was the queen really an inventor?”
“Best in the world,” he replied. “She’s the reason why you have a fountain behind your house for laundry.”
“Is the Enchantress still alive?”
“I have no idea. Probably.”
“Were the musicians really world-famous?”
“Of course they were. Why would they lie?”
“Maybe to gain favor with the prince.”
“No, they’ve been in the paper before. I have clippings, if you’re really that skeptical.”
“Wow…” For a moment she was lost in her own daydreams of what it would be like living with famous people. But then another thought stole her mind away. “Could Plumette really fly? Like a bird?”
“Even after the curse she could float for a while, if she wanted to.”
“What do you want me to say about him? The man was an eccentric old codger right up until the day he…” The man paused for a moment, lost in the past. “Until he died.”
The girl pondered the word in silence, while the other sat in his armchair, thinking of times and thoughts that his granddaughter would never understand, no matter how much she listened, or how much she learned. She would never learn to appreciate time as he had, especially now, after all these years. And he was the last one, the one given the most time to contemplate what had happened. Everyone else had already passed on.
Sometimes, they would come to him in his dreams, as young as he remembered them that day: newly human and full of happiness. Lumiere would ask him how old age was treating him, Chapeau would clap him on the back and comment on his family, his mother would wrap her arms around him and tell him how proud she was of him. How proud they all were of him.
But Cogsworth always told him the time, how time was running out. Tick-tock, there’s not much time left. And though he always asked what Cogsworth meant, the old majordomo never explained himself, only kept repeating the same thing over and over again. Even now, Cogsworth was still as incessant as a real clock.
And yet…though he had time well-spent…it never seemed like enough. Well, not until now, as his youngest grandchild sat next to him, visions of magic and curses dancing in her head, the very age he was when the curse was cast. Filled with the wonder of a story that would die with him.
“I have a special task for you, little one,” he murmured, and the girl’s eyes lit up.
“What is it?” she asked. “Whatever it is, I’ll do it.”
“Don’t forget the story I’ve told you today. Not a single word of it. Write it down somewhere, make it a book. And tell your grandchildren. And have them tell theirs.”
“All right,” the child said. “Is it that important?”
“I don’t want anyone to forget them,” he continued. “They taught me a lesson; I am sure they will teach others too. You’ve probably been told that nothing lasts forever, haven’t you?”
“That’s right,” she said. “Mother told me that.”
“Well…this story only happened in a moment, out of all the time in the world. And when I die, the days I’ve lived will disappear. But now that I’ve told you, you can tell other people, and those people can tell other people, and the story will last longer than any of us.”
He wasn’t much of a storyteller at this age, but he could do this much for his family. He didn’t live his whole life just to die without people really knowing what happened all those years ago. It wasn’t just some curse; lessons were learned, and love was restored to the castle.
“Okay. I promise I’ll do it. And my children will do it too.”
Chip smiled and closed his eyes. He could picture them now, in the castle, carrying out their duties, royalty and service alike. Some would call them ordinary, but to him they were the most important people in the world. They didn’t deserve to be fleeting. They deserved to live on. Through story, through song, through legend.
That’s how a moment lasts forever…when our song lives on.
The only acceptable meme content is Phichit sending Yuuri Rick Ashley’s hit song “Never Gonna Give It Up” repeatedly for the last 5 years because Yuuri Katsuki is a trusting man who just….he just won’t learn.
P: “OH do you want to listen to my free skate btw? I thought we could mime through it tomorrow after my Psych class”
Y: “Yeah go ahead and send it. I might write your step sequence since I’m bored.”