talking about Rosie The Riveter, fun fact: while the We Can Do It picture has become the most-well known depiction of her in modern times, it wasn’t really a famous image when it was made—in fact, it wasn’t even intended to be her
the most famous depiction of Rosie The Riveter during WWII was probably Norman Rockwell’s painting
hint: if a person with clinical depression and anxiety says theyre tired …. dont tell them they have no reason to be …. bc guess what….. They Know and Its Shitty
Louder!!!
I just want to add one thing-
If you have depression or anxiety? you’re not tired for no reason.
You’re tired because you have depression/anxiety.
Not only do they both come with low energy/fatigue as a legit common side effect, but they’re both fucking /exhausting/. fighting your brain all the time? exhausting. adrenaline crashes from anxiety/panic attacks? exhausting. being on edge all the time? exhausting. plus doing things costs /more/ energy when you have those mental illnesses.
You’re not tired for no reason, you’re tied because you have an illness that makes you tired.
if you are a young thing i have one piece of advice for you:
being enthusiastic and happy about things you love is more important than being apathetic and snide. you will go so much farther in life spending energy on and talking about something you love than wasting energy on only complaining about or making fun of something you don’t.
don’t focus on mocking others for being genuinely excited about something. focus on the things and people you love.
me looking at the person i like: i am enamored even with the way your fingers move, with the way the light plays on your skin, with your freckles and your smile and your laughter, with your voice, with how you get around the things you love, with your humor, me aloud: what’s up asshole
whenever i have those brutal searing being-dissolved-from-inside period cramps during school or work i pretend i am a viking warlord who has been stabbed in the abdomen but i killed the assailant so i’m the only one who knows im injured and i have to carry on normally til the end of the battle to keep up my mens morale
In the Netherlands, abortion is freely available on demand. Yet the Netherlands boasts the lowest abortion rate in the world, about 6 abortions per 1000 women per year, and the complication and death rates for abortion are miniscule. How do they do it? First of all, contraception is widely available and free — it’s covered by the national health insurance plan. Holland also carries out extensive public education on contraception, family planning, and sexuality. An ethic of personal responsibility for one’s sexual activity is strongly promoted. Of course, some people say that teaching kids about sex and contraception will only encourage them to have lots of sex. But Dutch teenagers tend to have less frequent sex, starting at an older age, than American teenagers, and the Dutch teenage pregnancy rate is 9 times lower than in the U.S.
I endorse evidence-based medicine, and evidence-based activism.
Omg educated people don’t do stupid shit. What I would have never known!
remember when Leia dressed in a dead man’s clothes, dragged one of her best friends into Jabba’s palace in chains, activated a detonator she was holding and kept holding it while staring down Jabba’s thugs and all the guns pointed at her, sold her friend to Jabba, rescued her boyfriend–who she knew was blind–and dramatically whipped off her disguise to give a clever one-liner and make out with him.
like it was a terrible plan in the first place, but you can never be more Iconic than that
The more I see this, the more I’m convinced that Leia would have gotten along with Clone Wars Era Anakin, Ahsoka, and Obi-Wan like a house on fire.
Or a Planet on Fire.
The Sidious on Fire.
Honestly, this is how you know she’s Darth Vader’s daughter.
when moana realizes who te ka is and the ocean parts, everything slows down, that soft music starts to play, and she walks calmly across the seafloor as te ka claws her way towards her, then the music slows and they stare into each others eyes as moana reaches out to her > every movie in existence
if you think you are about to tell me, a sociology major, whose current biggest academic interest is fandom studies and the social impact of genre fiction, that fandom and genre fiction has zero social impact…
please do us both a favour and not do this thing
Oh my God I spent an entire semester in a writing class with my teacher telling me that my writing was crap because I write genre fiction and fantasy, this post almost made me cry, if you wanted to yell for a while about this I would be desperately interested to hear it.
Baze doesn’t start repeating Chirrut’s chant when he dies, at least not quite.
Chirrut’s chant is “I am one with the Force and the Force is with me”. What Baze says “The Force is with me and I’m one with the Force”.
Reverse order.
And it’s not because he’s just picking it up where Chirrut left off, Chirrut is silent when Baze reaches him. Plus when he starts his suicide run after Chirrut is dead he says exactly the same thing: “The Force is with me and I’m one with the Force”.
Again, reverse order.
It made me think.
What if the chant was always two part, meant for two people to conduct? One saying “I am one with the Force and the Force is with me” and the other replying “The Force is with me and I’m one with the Force”.
Chirrut haven’t heard the second part in years, not since Baze lost his faith. He could he supposes find another partner for the chant but he doesn’t want to, it’s Baze or no one.
He still keeps his own part, his own faith are as strong as ever and he makes no demands that Baze say his part. It will genuinely from the man’s heart or not at all, but he can’t refuse that the loss pains him some times.
Hearing Chirrut’s chant sometimes annoys Baze, it reminds him of what he once had but lost. But he says nothing. Whatever he does or doesn’t believes these days he won’t take faith away from another. And he knows that Chirrut isn’t doing it to upset him, but because it means something to him. So he stays silent on the matter, though sometimes he wishes he could say it again.
And the last thing - the very last thing - that Chirrut hears in this world, as consciousness fades from his body is Baze’s heartfelt voice saying “The Force is with me and I’m one with the Force”.
That ADHD feel when youre constantly exauhsted and keep promising you’ll go to bed early and take care of yourself but then the second the sun goes down you have Endless Energy and are wide awake and it goes right through till you collapse of exauhstion at 5 AM. Lather rinse repeat until you get bad enough you pass out with the lights on in your normal clothes at 7 PM on a friday and dont wake up until 2 PM the next day. And the cycle continues.
theory: r2-d2, upon seeing Living Legend Luke Skywalker for the first time in a couple of decades, chases him all around the Resistance base, squealing with rage:You FUCKER you LEFT ME you JEDI PIECE OF SHITE you useless Jedi fuck come back here so I can fucking kill you –
He shocks him repeatedly, while Leia howls with laughter in the background
Everyone is born with a smudge that clears into a black tattoo when they turn 18. It is discovered the text equates to a username. Later, we discover it is not actually your destined username, but that of your other half. It is unknown whether this other half is your true love or nemesis.
Clint’s soulmark curves under the line of his collarbone, in tiny,
precise handwriting. And
it’s…interesting. It’s in Russian, he
learns that real quick as a kid, and when he’s seven, still living at home with
his parents and his brother, he finds out that one of his teachers speaks the
language. He rushes up to her the very
next day and explains, hasty and stammered, and she smiles kindly, offering to
translate it for him.
He pulls down the collar of his shirt—he sees her eyes drag on the
hand-shaped bruise on his wrist, but she doesn’t say anything—and she leans
down to read his words.
“Let’s see,” she says, and reads out the Russian words. Clint tries to memorize the sound of it, so
that he’ll know his soulmate when they meet him. “Oh,” the teacher says quietly, and smooths
his shirt back over his mark. “Listen,
baby, I don’t think it’s anything you need to worry about just yet, okay?”
“What does it say?”
She gives him a smile, sort of grim and sad and confused, and says, “I’m
sorry, baby, I’m not going to tell you.
You don’t need that on your conscience today.”
where everyone puts a self insert character into their favourite media via fanfic and fanart?
and not “oh this person looks like me” LITERALLY YOU
actual non-canon-compliant, over the top, embarrassingly sincere pictures and writings about you, the fan, being dropped into your favourite shows and films and books (and not dying instantly)
because it used to be both a cringey sincere fanfic trope and a tongue in cheek comedic fanart trope and I kind of… miss that fun?
Can we talk about K-2SO OMG he is such a precious child and he is so rude and I love him
MY DEAR ASSHOLE ROBOT.
So here’s something K-2SO has never told Cassian: he remembers part of his time as an Imperial droid. Not much–certainly not enough to know what to tell a Stormtrooper where he’s taking some prisoners, thank you, Cassian. Just a few minutes, prior to the reboot.
He remembers [IDENTIFY: SPY, REBEL ALLIANCE] ticking over his visual scanner. He remembers [COMMAND: ELIMINATE], and advancing on the organic in the overlarge coat. He remembers the organic–[IDENTIFY: MALE, HUMANOID, YOUNG]–pressing his lips together and taking aim with a blaster.
He remembers cold.
Which is stupid, of course, droids don’t feel cold, K-2 is designed to survive the vacuum of space.
But still.
The next thing he remembers is powering on, and wondering why he was on the ground. And then, of course, he ran a full-system diagnostic because if there’s one thing Imperial droids aren’t meant to do, it’s wonder, so clearly there’s a glitch in his programming.
The diagnostic returned a report that all systems had been set to full default. K-2SO lay perfectly still and issued a command to his circuits. [IDENTIFY: BASE COMMAND STRUCTURE.]
The code was still chasing itself in circles in an ineffective system search when the organic gave him a gentle prod with his boot.
[IDENTIFY: SPY, REBEL ALLIANCE], his system reported.
[YES, THANK YOU], K-2SO thought. Thought. He was pretty sure that was a glitch too. The lack of memory base and base command set were definitely glitches. He should report himself for decommissioning.
“Hey!” the organic hissed.
“You have reprogrammed me,” K-2SO deduced slowly–slowly for a droid, which means that the organic probably thought he’d done it instantaneously.
“Yeah, so don’t shoot me for it. Can you get me into the hangar?”
“Why should I?” K-2SO asked, flat, and the organic blined at him for a long moment before he bared his teeth.
[IDENTIFY: MAMMALIAN PLEASURE RESPONSE], his system chirped.
[PLEASE BE QUIET, I AM THINKING], K-2SO said, and he liked this thinking thing. He also liked this liking-things thing. He didn’t want to be decommissioned, and wasn’t that a major system failure.
“How about ‘because in the Rebel Alliance we don’t decommission mouthy droids’?”
[PROBABILITY OF DECOMMISSIONING: 98.97%] K-2SO’s system reported clinically.
[SILENCE], he ordered.
“You shot me,” K-2SO observed, pulling himself upright. The organic was still baring his teeth–grinning.
“Yeah, but you were going to kill me,” he said with a sharp accent. “I’m Cassian.”
[IDENTIFY: ANDOR, CASSIAN; SPY, REBEL ALLIANCE; NUMBER EIGHT MOST WANTED–]
[S T O P] His system finally stopped chattering, and something in his coding gave an almost audible crack as it snapped.
“Why would you tell me that?”
“Because you’ve already decided to help me.” Cassian was grinning, grinning, and K-2SO was annoyed to find that he was right. “What’s your designation?”
“K-2SO,” he said. “And there is an 82.4% chance of our capture and mutual decommissioning.” If he had been organic, he would have stuttered–he did not plan to say that. Apparently that crack was the filter coding between his analytic systems and his vocoder.
Cassian shook his head. “I don’t want to know, K-2. Come on.”
Your all in one spot au, will we be seeing Washington?
You’re goddamn motherfucking right we’ll be
seeing Washington. TBH I’ve basically
been waiting to get an ask about Washington before I move on because I’ve been
plotting the next scene FROM THE GET GO and really wanted to write it, so you
get to jump the line ahead of everyone else.
Without further ado: HERE COMES THE GENERAL.
Edit: I started writing this like…maybe over
a month ago? But then finals happened
and other shit happened and I’ve been, A, too busy to write, and, B,
desperately lacking in inspiration for this.
So now we’re back with the AIOS thing.
It’s only the first day of proper classes and John’s already giving Alex
that look of exasperated concern. The how late were you up last night and have you
considered a meal today look. The General Washington doesn’t need that letter
for a week and you look like a dead man walking look. The coffee
is not food and your hands are shaking look.
Alex is fine. John is
paranoid. And they have class.
“A class we already know everything for!” John shouts as he sprints
after Alex, two protein bars and a bottle of water in hand. John is still unfairly tall, and he catches
up with Alex in a heartbeat, snatching Alex’s two books away and shoving all
three items into his hands instead. “I
didn’t even buy the books, and I know
Laf didn’t either. And you remember better
than I do!”
Alex scowls, but eats the protein bars.
They’re chocolate-flavored and it’s possible
he got too absorbed in writing up his latest blog post to remember to eat
dinner, so he generously decides to forgive John’s hovering.
imagine if finn could have had bodhi as his mentor the way rey has luke??
bodhi who defected from the empire?? who would know what it’s like to have that guilt with you?? but also the hope?? to be a better person????
i’ve been cheated of a great relationship
“Ah, Finn,” General Organa says as he enters the room. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet. This is General Rook.”
Finn looks at the slight man next to her. He could be any age from forty to sixty-five, with salt-and-pepper hair and deep lines bracketing his mouth. His eyes are striking: big and dark and evaluating. “Sir,” Finn says, and salutes.
General Organa raises her eyebrows. “Bodhi Rook,” she says, as if that name should mean something to Finn.
Finn shrugs helplessly. “I’m sorry, I don’t know,” he says.
“Why would you?” Rook says. “It’s not the sort of story the First Order would have wanted circulating.” He steps closer to Finn and gives him a slow, measured once-over. “I was an Imperial pilot. I smuggled out the original Death Star plans before the Battle of Yavin.”
Finn stares.
“And I’ll be in charge of debriefing you,” Rook continues. And then he smiles, fierce and proud. “One traitor to another.”
being that writer ppl longingly think about all like “if only this writer wrote for my ship”
being that writer ppl have a love/hate relationship with bc “i loath that ship with every fiber of my being but this writer’s works about it are absolute masterpieces”
being that writer ppl read one work for and then read the rest with conSUMING NEED IN ONE NIGHT
being that writer ppl write meta/rec posts discussing their fic
honestly i respect religious lgbtq ppl so much? cause in all honestly, it’s fucking hard when both ppl who are and aren’t part of your religion are constantly questioning and attacking you. there are ppl who might ask you how it’s possible to be trans/gay and religious at the same time. there are ppl who tell you that you’re gna be punished for who you are, but that’s all bullshit. religion is a deeply personal thing, no one can dictate it for you. you’re not contradicting it by being trans and/or attracted to the same gender. yall are some of the bravest ppl out there, and your faith is just as valid as anyone’s. your god(s) accept you. fuck everyone who says otherwise
“I would eat his heart in the marketplace” is legit the most savage line I have ever heard, I’d like to personally thank Shakespeare for putting into words that feeling of rage and protectiveness women get when some fuckboy hurts another woman
Aphrodite laughs, head tossed back with stars in her hair, ‘We are immortal. We are ageless. We will never die.’
How do you kill a God?
Hera sighs, ‘You rob them of love and loyalty. They will be alone and unhappy, and eternity will seem like a punishment, but it is not death.’
How do you kill a God?
Zeus declares, rather confidently, ‘You deny them their power. Poseidon nods his head in agreement. ‘They will be weak and defeated, perhaps even chopped up into pieces, but it is not death.’
How do you kill a God?
Apollo closes his eyes. ‘You strip them of their senses. Their eyes, and they cease to see. Their ears, and they are rendered silent. They will be in the dark, conscious and cut off for millennium, but it is not death.’
How do you kill a God?
Hades whispers, though still his voice carries, ‘With another God. An immortal for an immortal. Era for an Era. A celestial being to strip another’s soul. He pauses, the rest are silent. ‘A God for a God.’
