Rise Up, Oh Heart, For There is Another Battle to Win
Month
So I wrote a short story that I’ve been posting on here bit by bit (I WILL POST THE NEXT SECTION, I SWEAR TO GOD) and I happened to have written it for a class and I brought it in to be critiqued and I just. I can die happy, because I straight-up witnessed a room full of Very Serious Critical Authors (yes I am a little derisive of my Very Pompous College Peers) get into a violent ship war. It escalated to shouting, the teacher looked horrified, and at least two people had brought in copies of the story annotated to support their ship–and these two came in armed and loaded for bear. Or heteronormativity, but same difference.
And so after class I came back to my dorm room and burst through the door and announced to my roommate:
“I have thrown the golden apple of ambiguous lesbianism among the masses and war has broken out.”
And honestly I’ve never been so proud of a sentence that ever came out of my mouth.
mutuals if i like your negative posts please just imagine me patting u on the back comforting you, not like i actually like that you’re hurt
for real though, personal posts get a bad rap
like i will see people apologize for making a lot of them and i’m just
dude
a) it’s YOUR blog, you can recite the greek alphabet one post at a time if you really want to
b) you don’t owe your followers shit
c) personal posts are fucking interesting, man. if i am following a blog i am okay! with knowing about the person behind that blog! nobody’s gonna begrudge you having a life outside the intermajig and talking about it.
*SMASHES the reblog button into a million pieces*
the fic: there’s only one bed
my ass, knowing damn well they’re gonna fucking share that bed: are they gonna share the bed 👀?
I WANT GAY ROMANTIC COMEDIES GOD DAMN IT I AM SO TIRED OF THE ONLY GAY MOVIES BEING DRAMATICALLY SAD BECAUSE THEYRE GAY AND SOMEONE HAS AIDS OR SOMEONES A COWBOY OR SOMEONE DIES GIVE ME YOU’VE GOT MAIL WITH TWO WOMEN GIVE ME SIXTEEN CANDLES WITH TWO BOYS GIVE ME SOMETHING
HOLLWOOD, HEAR THIS CRY
The lake house with two girls
I know I run a book blog so maybe this isn’t the right platform for this, but girls: Please look out for other girls. Tonight I was stuck at a bus stop in Shoreditch circa 2 AM and saw another young woman getting harassed by a drunk, aggressive dude, and at first I thought, “She’s got it under control.” But then he started touching her and I went “No, that’s definitely not right.” So I barged over and shoved him out of the way and said, “Beth?? Oh my God, how are you, I haven’t seen you since grade school!” And this girl I’d never seen before in my life threw her arms around my neck and whispered, “You are an angel, thank God.” We talked for fifteen minutes, the creep lost interest, I watched her get on the bus and I will sleep so much better knowing she got home in one piece. If you see something weird happening, intervene. The worst that can happen is embarrassment, and I think that’s worth the risk when you consider the alternative.
Every platform is the right platform for this.
Ninety-year-old Freddie Oversteegen was one of the few women that were active in the Dutch resistance during WWII – along with her sister Truus and the famous Hannie Schaft, who was killed just before the end of the war. When Freddie was 14 years old, a gentleman visited her family home to ask her mother if she would allow her daughters to join the resistance – no one would suspect two young girls of being resistance fighters, he argued.
And he was right. The Oversteegen sisters would flirt with Nazi collaborators under false pretences and then lead them into the woods, where instead of a make-out session, the men would be greeted with a bullet.
Ladies and Gentlemen I present to you, The real Black Widow
My fave piece of star wars discourse was in like 2010 when that picture of nat portman went around of her in the Stop Wars shirt stylized to look like star wars and some dude was all like fucking fake geek girl probably hasnt even seen the movie.
Do not apologize to me for your bad English. There is nothing to be sorry about for learning to speak English. It’s hard. You are trying your best and I’m proud of you.
concept: a TV show runs for a decent number of years. More than four. The characterizations stay consistent. The writers don’t do anything wildly inappropriate like excuse rape or abuse. No one you’ve invested hours upon hours of your life into has their story reduced to a “shocking” death scene that has no meaning beyond that shock value. The quality of the storylines don’t take a sudden, strange spiral downward. When it ends, you leave it feeling bittersweet. Sad that it’s over, but glad you got to experience it and take a journey with some people who you came to care about.
The show you’re looking for is called Leverage.
It is available on Netflix.
That vaguely flirtatious vibe you have with all your single gay friends
This is a real thing
its this constant air of like “i’d be down if you were down but i’m not going to pursue it and neither are you so lets just lowkey flirt all the time”
It always gets me when MRAs bring up the draft as an example of discrimination against men. Yes, it’s true that no woman in America has ever been subject to conscription in times of war; however, being that the most recent draft was in 1973, most likely neither have you. If you get to drag up stuff that happened before you were born, so does everybody else - and I’m pretty sure the ladies are going to win that particular game of misery poker.
BAM.
Also, considering the draft was voted into law by Congress in 1940 but the first woman was elected to Congress in 1973, men only have themselves to blame. We didn’t decide the rules of the draft. They did.
welp
Actually, the first woman was elected to Congress in 1916 and was in office in 1940. Her name was Jeanette Rankin.
She was also a lifelong pacifist. She opposed every declaration of war bll that crossed her desk, and her vote was the only one against the proposal to go to war with Japan, because “As a woman I can’t go to war, and I refuse to send anyone else.”
The men in Congress demanded she changed her vote and she refused. She was attacked by an angry mob and maligned in the press.
BAM.
am i bitter? yes. but do i try to move on and let go of past anger? well, actually, no
as a general rule if you see some “cool trick” on the internet that involves combining chlorine of any form (including bleach or tablets) with anything else, you shouldn’t do it because they are almost definitely trying to seriously hurt or kill people who don’t know any better. things like mixing bleach with other “household cleaning supplies” are especially huge red flags–it sounds harmless, but the chemicals in these things react to create extremely toxic gas, or worse
stuff like that almost universally comes from places like 4chan where it’s fun and cool to misinform people in the most dangerous possible ways, and it’s nothing short of evil that people use something as incredible as the internet to literally kill strangers for no reason
Time has an interactive feature to discover what your name would be if you were born today, based on popularity of your birth year vs. now.
My name would be Mylah. With all apologies to anyone named Mylah, I am now very happy to be named not Mylah.
Okay, so the current name is cool and all, but in 1960 mine would have been Guadeloupe.
However, since this is based on popularity at time of Birth versus overall popularity at the time, in 1890 I would still have been my name, because my great grandmother was.
If I was born in the 1930s I would have been ‘Trinidad’, which. Yikes.
Probably my favourite of the not-super-amazing options is the 1980s, with ‘Vera’.
Weird coincidence: the main character in a story I’ve been working on for a while, is named Vera.
If I’d been born this year my name would be Ansley. Which is far and away the best of the options. Also, if I’d been born in the 1900s, my name would be ‘Dean.’ Okay.
i was at a grocery store really late one night and some old guy kind of eyed me as i walked out of the store next to this other lady. She and I made eye contact and i knew she was scared too. we loaded up our groceries into our cars as fast as possible and I had way more bags than her so she got done faster than me. I panicked because i was sure she was going to leave so i just hurried faster, shaking a little, and then i noticed she sat in her car, watching me and making sure nobody came near. She waited not until all my groceries were loaded, or until my cart was put away, or until I got into my car. No, she didn’t drive away until I drove away.
And that was the moment that I realized how much women need other women. That we can’t win this war without each other and we have to be looking out for each other, every second.
my last year in new york city, i got off the subway around 9 or 10p.m. i only lived about 5 blocks from the f train, but i hadn’t gotten more than two before a woman’s hand suddenly touched my arm.
“that guy behind us is following you,” she said. “he was watching you leave the train car and followed you up.”
i hadn’t noticed him, or at least not noticed him following me. when we stopped outside a grocery store, he stopped half a block back and loitered. the woman linked her arm with mine and walked me several blocks out of her way to my front door and made sure i got inside safely.
another time, nocigar and i were walking home and at a stoplight a stranger grabbed my arm when i wouldn’t respond to him and tried to physically drag me over to him. she—who is, by the way, not a very physically imposing girl—ripped his hand off my arm and snarled, “don’t fucking touch her.”
protect your friends. protect strangers. there are good men in the world, but don’t wait for them to do something if you can do it yourself.
I was at a club once and my friend left with her boyfriend so I finished my drink and was heading out to the parking lot when three girls came up to me and basically surrounded me.
“Those guys behind us were talking about following you. We can walk with you.”
I have MMA training but have never in my life had been offered the protection and sanction of my own gender. This is so important.
GIRL CODE. FUCKIN’ GIRL CODE. LEAVE NO GIRL BEHIND. EVER.
I have been the girl left behind, more than once, and it’s a nasty, nasty experience that will destroy your trust in people, even if you can take care of yourself. I make it an absolute policy to never leave someone to the mercy of whatever shit is going down if I can help it.
I fucking hate it when kinksters do their shit in public.
When I say public, I mean the general public. Not ‘the public at a fetish con’, the regular ass walking down a street, out shopping, minding their own business, vanilla public.
Do not. Do that. Shit.
When you ‘express’ your kink in public, aka engage in public play, you’ve decided that you WANT observers. You want attention. Meaning that the attention of others is PART of your kink. Being seen, judged, observed, watched, etc. You’ve decided you want that from the public to satisfy your urge…
But the public never fucking consented to your play.
Those people didn’t sign up to watch you walk your slave on a leash down the street or see two dudes dressed like dogs sniff each other’s ass in a park or worse, spy your nipples and gonads and shit hanging out of strategically cut clothing.
It is absolutely fucking wrong to force people to be in on your kink and when you engage in public play that is what you are doing. That is not something you are entitled to. You do not have that right.
Aside from the fact that you have no idea whether or not your play is triggering to someone, they JUST DIDN’T CONSENT TO IT DUDE. Bottom line. I don’t care if they’re super chaste vanilla to the extreme or Mistress Sinfuck at nights and on weekends, if they didn’t consent to seeing your weird shit, they didn’t consent.
Bottom line.
Fuck your fetish.
Generally I get ‘bitch,’ quality variation in insult there. Then again, which of us is sending anon hate like a coward?
Love ya, dearie.
Baby bird season is incoming and I’d like to remind everyone that birds do not have a significant sense of smell. Bird parents will not reject birdlets because you have handled them.
If you see smol birbs with few or no feathers on the ground, you can safely put them back into their nest, bird parents will still care for them.
If you see smol birbs with some or most feathers on the ground, please leave them there, as bird parents are probably nearby watching and feeding.
nakey bird = accidentally fell out, is cold and scared, put back in nest! if you can’t reach the nest, try to put it on a wide branch or fork so predators can’t get at it as easily.
scruffy feather bird = starting to try the fly thing, not very good at it. only put in nest/branch if predators abound, i.e. you have four outdoor cats and they’re licking their chops.
fluffy feather bird = smol fly guy! do nothing. can probably get away from predators and will flip its shit if you pick it up.
Reblogging this because I’d always heard the ‘Don’t touch a distressed bird its mom will reject it’ thing treated as fact before now, I didn’t realise it wasn’t true…
You don’t know me until you stayed up till 4 A.M with me
So my time is running down to bitch about this writing class (I CAN SEE THE LIGHT AT THE END OF THE TUNNEL, THE END OF THE YEAR IS SO CLOSE, GOD, I CAN PRACTICALLY TASTE FREEDOM) and I need to get some stuff off my chest here. An open letter to my class under the cut for ranting and cursing and general miscellaneous bullshit.
Consider:
Instead of using that creepy ass quote Professor Sneep says about his obsession with his dead ex-friend as The Harry Potter Quote why don’t we use the one James Potter says to his son, whom he gave his life for, to comfort him as he walks to his death
“‘You’ll stay with me?’
‘Until the very end,’ said James.”Just a thought
THANK YOU.
The other night, I told this story to my sister, who had somehow never heard it before. She demanded that I write it down. (I sincerely hope she’s not planning to use this as some kind of college life advice for my nephew.)
There are three things you need to know to understand this story, provided you are not my sister:
- I started college at 15.
- I almost immediately got mono and didn’t realize it, assuming that I was sleeping 16 hours a day because sleep was the best thing in the world and I’d suddenly gotten really good at it.
- I made most of my bad decisions – like, most of the bad decisions I would ever make, and almost all the ones I could think of – before starting college.
These were not things I had in common with my freshman cohort. Any of them, as far as I could tell. They were all older than I was, they seemed to have all the energy in the world, and they had come to college to make those bad decisions they’d been dreaming of all these years but apparently couldn’t quite commit to until they were away from parental backup and support.
—Rabbi Moshe Leib of Sassov (via shiraglassman)
You don’t expect to hear a rabbi say “act as if there were no God” and mean not “do whatever you feel like doing” but “recognize that the ultimate responsibility for doing good in the world lies with you.” I kind of love this.
(via animatedamerican)
#religion #… I mean if anyone were going to say ‘act as if there were no god’ to mean ‘it’s all on you mate’ #it would be a rabbi (via thetrollingchaos)
*On Jakku*
Finn: *Points to the Millennium Falcon* What about that ship?
Rey: That one’s garbage!
*Meanwhile, somewhere in space*
Han: I feel a disturbance in the Falcon, like a voice just cried out, insulting my ship.
Han: …
Han: It’s a couple of parsecs that way. I can feel it.
i dont get offended at white people jokes even though im white because:
- i can recognize white people as a whole have systemically oppressed POC in america, which is where i live
- most people when they make white people jokes only mean the shitty white people and i am not a shitty white person
- im not a pissbaby
my white friends that have reblogged this give me life
4. Sometimes I am a shitty white person and the jokes remind me to FUCKIN STOP
If ur white and like this post I fux with u
^absolutely
5. It’s hard to be offended when white people jokes involve bland food/tourist dads in socks and sandals/white girls in yoga pants obsessed with pumpkin spice/suburban PTA moms and other harmless and mostly true stereotypes while jokes about POC involve them being called thugs/criminals/slurs/uneducated/illegal immigrants.
i fucks with u heavy if ur white and you reblog this
