ok but has anyone considered… stormtrooper memes. stormtroopers with injokes. stormtroopers quietly passing along little nudges and references while they’re standing guard or patrolling endless hallways. hux pausing halfway through a speech, suspiciously— he just heard a very tiny, staticy giggle. like,
(standing in front of blank wall or empty box) nothing to see here, move along
let’s just put that in the back pocket for now mmkay
*eats ration bar* mm mmm tastes like [dead comrade]
you can’t be mean to me on my birthday
*force chokes a problem*
(between heavy darth vader wheezes) i’m not mad, i’m just disappointed.
(when something falls over) rebel scum!
*points at large machine* mom
it’s party time (everyone stands perfectly still for at least a minute)
(when friend come into the room) you’re surplus to requirements
they put a worm in him
*picks up thing that is not a phaser* pew pew
i’m matt the radar technician
millennium falcon as a code for “mother fucker”
Sending troopers new to the unit on an ruffleluff hunt
spreading the rumor that Hoth is secretly the main base because that’s the only place their uniforms make sense as camo
tagging other trooper’s helmets with mysterious substances when they’re not looking
radioing sanitation to ‘come take out this trash’ when dragging another trooper
there’s coffee and doughnuts in the breakroom
*does something dangerous* eat me ass first
healthy habits start at home
well, as we all know, [lie]
*gives someone a pinecone* (very difficult to pull off)
i can’t go out dressed like THIS!
my morale is so [genital adjective] right now.
does anyone need to stormpooper before we go
fun is illegal
*puts foot in small box* i live here now
doubletime sleeping
*points at captain phasma* mom
*humming Vader’s theme tune when someone’s in trouble*
Jedi are a myth
Kylo Ren is a myth
*explaining damage* It got KRed. (Kylo Renned)
KRUBAR Kylo Renned Beyond All Recall/Recognition/Repair
Calling helmets faces (a relic from the clone days)
Backtalking superior officers “begging to be spaced”
Kylo Ren is having a moment as an acceptable excuse for deviating a patrol route
General Hux is in a good mood as an acceptable excuse for deviating a patrol route
And Captain Phasma is smiling at us under that helmet (synonymous with “bullshit”)
Finn accidentally slipping into stormtrooper memes while with the Resistance and getting some odd looks.
Finn trying to explain to them why their Force-using manchild deadly enemy destroying property in a rage is funny and getting some more odd looks.
Finn feeling a little knot in his gut when he realizes he’s never going to be able to tell these jokes again. How’s he even going to connect to these people enough to make them laugh when they’re all scared shitless? How’s he going to carry his entire squad around in his head when he can’t even speak their language anymore?
Meanwhile Rey’s standing there squinting suspiciously at a pinecone.
Okay but Rebels who see Finn being upset and making a concerted effort to figure out meme culture. Rey and Jessika talking it out while Jessika is teaching Rey the cultural miscellany of Resistance and pilot culture.
Rey being the first one to get it, because she synergizes what Jessika’s telling her and what Finn’s explaining and realizes, this is all communication around communication, the key point is shared understanding, and then she starts making her own, with Jessika, and Finn picks it up, and soon the whole base is in on this bastardized mix of stormtrooper meme and purely Resistance meme and a ridiculous combination of the two.
And then they interact with stormtroopers and something goes on in the background on the First Order side and a Resistance soldier asks, “Is Kylo Ren having a moment?” and there’s muffled laughter and an absence of blasterfire from the stormtroopers.
Pretty soon there’s a whole code that stormtroopers and resistance soldiers can use to communicate. “Nothing to see here, move along” means “I’m ignoring you on purpose, don’t shoot me,” and “I’m KR’d” means “I want out, please capture me.”
From the Rebel side, “Help me Obi-Wan Kenobi” becomes “throw me a bone here” in either direction to ask for a favor; “That’s no moon” means “you’re walking into a trap here/we’ve got a secret weapon you won’t like.”
Okay, I was expecting someone to pick this up, but damn, this is even better than I hoped.
I’m pleased to be represented by Godzilla, but we need more than one ace character, even if he is the size of 500 non-ace characters.
Hate to be that person, but that screenshot is from Godzilla ‘99. The Godzilla in that film is a mutated, pregnant female lizard looking for a place to lay her eggs, which happens to be New York. Now, I know aces can have sex, and Japanese Godzilla is, as far as I know, pretty asexual, but maybe that one (‘99) is a better example of single mothers having badass representation.
Okay, but the ‘99 Godzilla is able to reproduce without help from another one. Asexuals get a lot of really distasteful jokes about ‘reproducing asexually.’ That Godzilla is a solid tongue-in-cheek joke. I mean, yes, the other Godzillas also work and I 100% support representing asexuals as nuclear-energy-breathing creatures of great and awesome power, and representing single mothers as world-conquering beings both terrifying and excellent in nature, but…yeah.
“Someday I will kill the man who wrote keep the home fires burning—they play it in the hottest weather, too.”—
Siegfried Sassoon in a letter to musicologist Edward Dent, 1915
Remember when I blogged this? So I just found out who wrote “Keep the Homes Fires Burning.”
Ivor Novello.
With whom Sassoon had an affair in 1924. (via larazontally)
I’d say Sassoon clearly can’t hold a grudge, but the first time he met Ivor Novello he DID flat-out ignore him in petty spite because he hated that song so much. Clearly he got over it though. (via outoflullabies)
Not gonna lie, REALLY into the one where Vader survives Mustafar and Padme does what needs to be done to save her children ('Kill him for me, then' wow that is SO MUCH MY JAM) and honestly even if you never write another word for that 'verse, thank you so fucking much for that, that is EVERYTHING I am here for.
yeah no I was literally already going “wow I hope someone sends me an ask about that AU where Obi-Wan’s life sucks even worse than usual so I have an excuse to talk about Padmé/Vader as a ship, I REALLY DO”, trust me, buddy, you tied your wagon to the right star here, you REALLY did.
Because Vader went and killed Palpatine for Padmé, right? SPECIFICALLY for her. Like, he OFFERED, originally, but when he actually goes and DOES it, it’s because she tells him to do it and he is immediately like “anything for you, angel!!” and then not only does it, but does it and DECLARES HER EMPRESS.
You know. The person who all the clones answer to. The person HE answers to. THAT empress.
There are only ever two Sith, okay, and because there are only ever two Sith there have to ALWAYS be two Sith. Vader killed the apprentice, so he became the apprentice, and then Vader killed the master, so therefore he should be the Master, and should be attempting to pluck Ahsoka off some backwater planet all “I HAVE SO MUCH TO TEACH YOU, APPRENTICE”.
Except instead he goes back to where he left Padmé and is like “??!? WHERE IS” and then proceeds to chase her down, and the moment she finds out he’s the survivor she puts on a smile and opens her arms to him and reels him RIGHT in.
Sith apprentices kill Sith masters to BECOME Sith masters, but Anakin did not actually care about being a Sith master–he wanted to be a JEDI master, yeah, but Jedi masters are one of many and still answer to the Order, and it’s a very different thing. And really, what Anakin ACTUALLY wanted was always just Padmé and Luke and Leia (and Obi-Wan, of course Obi-Wan, but–well, three for four is better than canon got him, so yeah). So Vader killed Anakin and got (nearly) everything Anakin wanted, and Vader killed Palpatine and got everything HE wanted, and he is therefore ENTIRELY CONTENT with what he has and would quite happily go along with anyone who’d let him keep it.
And he killed Palpatine in Padmé’s name. In EmpressAmidala’s name.
So yeah. Vader is definitely not the master in this scenario.
I keep seeing a lot of posts about how Steve was in the wrong in CACW because while Tony had a plan, Steve didn’t offer any alternative to it, he was just like NOPE. The thing is though, something that immediately struck me when I watched the movie was the timing of everything. Ross and Tony bring Steve and the others the Accords THREE DAYS before they are to be signed. Those Accords were not drafted, approved and supported by 117 countries in a week. This was 100% intentional. This is also very, very common in American politics. When politicians want to pass a bill they don’t want people to look at closely, they schedule votes at weird times or when a large # of people are away from the Hill (Capital Hill). So you get these 11th hour bills that are hundreds of pages long that no one has had a chance to read, ask questions about, or negotiate on about changes. These bills are stuffed with completely unrelated stuff that gets passed as well because the whole thing has to be signed off on/approved. It’s called “pork barreling.” Those are the questions Steve tries to bring up to the group. When he’s like ‘what happens when…?’ And Tony brushes aside his concerns like ‘oh, I’m sure we’ll get to make changes later when everything dies down.’ But Steve is like what are we agreeing to NOW though? And practically as soon as they are given the “generous” 3 day warning, Peggy dies. Steve flies off to London and everything goes to hell. What time is there to propose or discuss an alternative plan??
The timing was 100% intentional to make sure the Avengers would be subject to the Accords as written–no matter what was lurking on the bottom of page 440 in fine print. Steve is 100% right to be suspicious. This is one of the dirty tricks of American politics that Steve would be totally aware of. And sure, maybe there’s a chance that everything was above board, reasonable, and so on, but you would NEVER sign a thing like that w/o actually checking/reading it. that would be foolish. I mean, did we forget that Project Insight was authorized and approved by The World Council? I guarantee you that Steve hasn’t. I absolutely believe that Steve would have been willing to talk everything out, negotiate, listen to everyone’s pov, and really consider everything carefully…but there’s no time given to do that. It’s all last minute, non-negotiable, and shady. Steve is a master tactician, natural leader, and a reasonable, thoughtful person who is a Big Picture thinker. It’s weird that people just assume he rejects the Accords because he’s being childish or something. That’s not Steve Rogers at all.
THIS. THIS. ALL OF THIS.
Steve was not being unreasonable or being “I DO WHAT I WANT BECAUSE CAPTAIN AMERICA FUCK YEAH” or incidentally “selfish.”
a. All of the points that op makes above - YES. ABSOLUTELY. There was no attempt at a “can we review this and think this over?” and “can we reach a reasonable compromise?” Because nope, the Avengers are presented with a “hey 117 countries ‘agreed’ to this and we better sign because we kinda fucked up in Lagos and this comes on the heels of fucking up in Sokovia (even if Sokovia is technically on the heads of Tony Stark with Bruce Banner and Wanda Maximoff in supporting roles).”
b. Friendly reminder - Steve is pushed to make those drastic choices because Sharon Carter warns him that the order for Bucky Barnes is shoot to kill. Not capture, not question, no further trial or investigation - even in a world where there is available technology to mimic a person’s appearance or with the knowledge that Bucky was savagely tortured and brainwashed and robbed of choice and agency.
And as long as we’re on the subject: Steve is clearly right to be paranoid about what might have been in the Accords. We see that he’s possibly the only person actively trying to read through them, in the initial scene where the Avengers are arguing about them, but he’s obviously not making very good progress because the Accords are like an inch and a half of what I expect is very small print. And once the Accords are signed off on by half the Avengers, we see:
a. The ‘shoot to kill’ order on Bucky Barnes, a prisoner of war who has been tortured and brainwashed for 70 years. They are aware of this, okay, because they know who the Winter Soldier is, which means that a large portion of his files were part of the SHIELDRA dump that Natasha executes. They’re not hunting down a dude who’s been intentionally committing assassinations and terrorist acts, they’re after a guy in need of medical treatment and more therapy than he could possibly ever receive, even in a super soldier’s lifetime. They know his situation, and, honestly, if I were Steve, I’d be feeling pretty goddamn immovable on the subject of Bucky’s execution too. I’m not a lawyer or shit, but I’m actually not even sure Bucky’s legally done anything wrong–I think there are caveats for ‘post-brainwashing and torture’ events. I mean, if you do a terrible thing at gunpoint, that’s considered a mitigating circumstance, surely 70 years of mad scientists tinkering with your brain qualifies. Shit, even if he had blown up the consulate, you would need to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that he’d been acting under his own will, not under HYDRA’s forced compliance, in order to justify a ‘shoot on sight’ command.
b. Total rejection of the right to trial. Steve even explicitly asks for a lawyer for Bucky, and is shot down out of hand. Now, like I said, I’m not a lawyer, but I can tell you that the Geneva convention guarantees the right to a fair trial, with a defense lawyer and everything, to everyone. The fucking Nazi Party got trials, okay, and that means that something in the Accords allowed the UN to bypass that requirement, not only for Bucky (who is, yes, the Winter Soldier), but also for the entirety of Team Cap, which included a war veteran (Sam), a loyal SHIELD agent (Clint), and a girl barely out of her teens (Wanda). They do not get trials before getting sent to the Raft, they just get locked up, and there’s every indication that no one outside the Avengers and the UN even knows what happened to them. Y’know what total loss of right to trial prior to imprisonment probably looks like to a dude who survived World War II? Nothing nice, I’ll tell you that.
c. As long as we’re on the subject, the Accords clearly gave the UN the right to treat any enhanced person they deemed as ‘exceptionally dangerous’ terribly. Wanda is placed under comprehensive house arrest, and then she’s tossed in a prison and a straitjacket. When we see her in the Raft, she barely looks cogent, might’ve been drugged, etc. I mean, if I was trying to subdue a vastly powerful telekinetic and psychic, I might go for heavy sedatives as my solution of choice. They don’t even look like they’ve gotten medical treatment for their injuries–Clint’s face is still a mess. That’s not approved treatment of prisoners, ever.
d. Disregard for the need to investigate a terrorist act resulting in the death of a ruler on foreign soil. I don’t care if you have a picture of the ‘perpetrator,’ you should still be doing an investigation.
I’m sure I could think of other stuff.
TL;DR: Steve’s concerns about the Accords pan out, probably in exactly the ways he was most afraid of. Being able to amend a document later doesn’t mean that you’re not subject to it now, and being subject to the Accords is clearly a problem.
At 11 o’clock at night, you moved across the train car to sit far too close to two girls about half your age so you could interrupt our conversation to tell us how pretty we are. We said thank you, have a good night, and went back to our conversation.
You interrupted us a second time to say that you didn’t want to bother us, but we needed to hear it, how pretty we are. We said cool, thanks, have a good night, and went back to our conversation.
You interrupted us a third time to say you wouldn’t say anything else, you didn’t want to bother us, you just had to let us know. We said have a good night, and went back to our conversation.
This seemed to perplex you. You came all that way across a train car to bestow upon us this life altering knowledge - the fact we were pretty - and all you got was a polite thank you? You grumbled about gratitude, about how you better not end up on facebook, were we putting you on facebook? Why was my friend looking at her phone? Was she putting you on facebook? All you’d done was tell us we were pretty.
At this point, my friend says, “Sir, we’re trying to have a conversation. Please don’t be disrespectful.”
This was when you got angry. Disrespectful? YOU? For taking the time out of your day to tell us we were pretty? Did we know we were pretty?
“Yes, we knew,” says my friend.
Well, that was the last straw. How dare we know we were pretty! Sure, you were allowed to tell us we were pretty, but we weren’t allowed to think it independently, without your permission! And if we had somehow already known - perhaps some other strange man had informed us earlier in the day - we certainly weren’t allowed to SAY it! Where did we get off, having confidence in ourselves? You wanted us to know we were pretty, sure, but only as a reward for good behavior. We were pretty when you gifted it upon us with your words, and not a moment before! You raged for a minute about how horrible we were for saying we thought we were pretty, how awful we turned out to be.
I took a page out of your book and interrupted you. “Sir, you said you wouldn’t say anything else, and then you kept talking,” I said. “You complimented us, we said thank you, and we don’t owe you anything else. It’s late, you’re a stranger, and I don’t want to talk to you. We’ve tried to disengage multiple times but you keep bothering us.”
At this point, our train pulled into the next stop. My friend suggested we leave, so we got up and went to the door.
Seeing your last chance, you lashed out with the killing blow. “I was wrong!” you shouted at us as we left, “You’re ugly! You’re both REALLY UGLY!”
Fortunately, since our worth as human beings is in no way dependent upon how physically attractive you find us, my friend and I were unharmed and continued on with our night. She walked home; I switched to the next train car and sat down.
So, strange man, I know you’re confused. I don’t know if you’ll think about anything I said to you, but I hope you do learn this: when you give someone something - a gift, a compliment, whatever - with stringent stipulations about how they respond to it, you are not giving anything. You are setting a trap. It is not as nice as you think it is.
But you’ll be happy to know that when I sat down in the next car, a strange man several seats over called, “Hey, pretty girl. Nice guitar. How was your concert?”
“Thanks. Good,” I said, then looked away and put on my headphones, the universal sign for ‘I’d like to be left alone.’
“Wow. Fine. Whatever. Fucking bitch,” he said.
Fucking creepers. May I ask how feminism or anything similar would actually have prevented this from happening? This ya already socially unacceptable.
Men - because to be clear, I called them ‘strange men’ because they were strangers to me, not because there was anything abnormal about them - act this way because they are raised in a culture that lets them believe their time and opinions are more important than the time and opinions of women, and that as a consequence, they are owed women’s attention. They are socialized to believe women should be grateful to them for their attention, and that they are being denied something rightfully theirs when women are not.
Raising someone with feminism, the idea that all sexes/genders are equals and thus no party is beholden to or more important than another, would have prevented this by not allowing men to grow up expecting ‘rights’ that are not actually theirs. You say this is socially unacceptable, but there were 20+ people on that train who actively watched us being harassed and did not say a word. It is socially unacceptable, but this kind of thing happens to me and many other women multiple times a week, with often more traumatic results.
So, yes, I believe more feminism would prevent sexist moments like this. Also, water is wet, the atmosphere is 78% nitrogen, and cheese is addictive.
REBLOGGING FOR THE FUCKING COMMENTARY
“when you give someone something - a gift, a compliment, whatever - with stringent stipulations about how they respond to it, you are not giving anything. You are setting a trap. It is not as nice as you think it is.”
I don’t care about how much you agree with a post, if it’s made by a nazi, a terf, a racist or anything gross- don’t fucking reblog it.
Also, if you see someone otherwise really cool reblogging something with a gross source, let them know. Sometimes a person has no idea what the OP’s beliefs are and will gladly delete the post once they find out.
I always welcome it when people tell me that I’ve reblogged something by someone creepy. I’d rather know and take it down than unknowingly support creepy awful people.
I think the most plausible The Force Awakens headcanon I’ve ever run into is that the galactic media started holding Ben up as the face of the nascent New Jedi Order from a very young age, and everything that’s happened since then is basically the equivalent of a former child star meltdown.
Just, you know, instead of getting drunk and trashing his hotel room, he shivs his dad and blows up the sun, because Skywalkers never do anything small.
you know when you read a piece of writing so effortless, so graceful and unpretentious that you are both a) thrilled to the point that you have to put it down and walk in a quick circle to make it last longer but also b) PHYSICALLY INCAPACITATED with snarling jealousy and rage
Youre looking for short writing prompts right? What about a character making a meal or something? I think I saw marvel in the tags so, uh, what about Steve cooking/figuring out how to work a microwave, since they were apparently made after ww2..?
All right all right all right, Steve with cooking implements, I am very here for this. We’re going to assume that, somewhere between the movies, the Avengers DID actually cohabitate in the Tower, because I’m having trouble letting go of that part of comic canon. This is probably right after the first movie, before Ultron and Winter Soldier. Unfortunately that means no Sam, which I am sad about, fortunately that means I am not within my rights to wallow in the pain that is Bucky Barnes. And awaaaaaay we go.
“All right, and that button does what again?” Steve asked, frowning.
Tony huffed a sigh and drummed his fingers against the counter, agitated. “C’mon, Cap, we’ve done this like twelve times, how do you not have this yet?”
I still think Parker and Hardison is one of the cutest couples ever created on screen. In lots of tv shows and movies, there’s the cliche that everyone knows the characters love each other…except the characters themselves. It works pretty well, which is why it happens so often.
But what works better with Parker and Hardison is exactly what the show did. Everyone does know that they care dearly for one another and eventually love one other INCLUDING Parker and Hardison.
Parker just wasn’t ready to give that part of herself to him. She was still discovering herself and the new feelings she was feeling. The fact that Hardison knew exactly how she felt and waited for her without pushing her while still letting her know he was interested was honestly beautiful and very developed of them as characters.
So while doing some pirate research for the play I’m writing I stumbled upon one of the most amazing things I’ve ever read. In the 5th century A.D. there was a Scandinavian princess called Alwilda who’s father tried to set her up to marry Alf, the Prince of Denmark. Alwilda wasn’t cool with this so she and some female companions dressed as men, stole a ship, and sailed away. Eventually they met a company of pirates who were in need of a new captain and they were so captivated by her that they elected her as their new leader. Her crew became so infamous that Prince Alf was sent out to stop them. When their ships met he took Alwilda prisoner and she was so impressed by Alf’s skill that she agreed to marry him after all and eventually became the Queen of Denmark.
I stopped caring whether this was factually accurate about halfway through because it’s completely AWESOME.
Medievalist here for triumphant fact-checking: this story is, if not true, at least true according to the history of the Danes (Gesta Danorum) written in the 12th century by Saxo Grammaticus. You can read his account of Alwilda’s story in the original Latin here, or in English translation here. Highlights include:
She exchanged woman’s for man’s attire, and, no longer the most modest of maidens, began the life of a warlike rover. Enrolling in her service many maidens who were of the same mind, she happened to come to a spot where a band of rovers were lamenting the death of their captain, who had been lost in war; they made her their rover captain.
I love the implication that there were lots of Danish maidens just WAITING for the opportunity of a life of piracy…
En Anglais, on ne dit pas “quatre vingt dix neuf”, on dit “ninety nine” qu'on pourrait traduire comme “Hurr durr, regardez mois, j'ai un système de numérotation fonctionnel” et je crois que c'est magnifique.
Prompt: Finn/Poe taking Rey to a green planet bc she loves that shit but they're not flora/fauna experts so when she starts trying weird stuff (running through the bush, trying to figure out what's edible, etc) they don't know what to do
Yes, absolutely, Rey on green planets is my new favorite thing. Also, if you didn’t expect this to be pre-OT3, you should have. Also, this is my first time writing these three, so be gentle with me.
“Oh, Force,” Rey breathed, turning on her heel, neck craned back and mouth open in delight. The trees towered over the Falcon, the sunlight filtering green-gold through the leaves and dappling the ship and its passengers in faint shadows. Poe watched her spin, her arms out and her head thrown back, and tried not to think too much. “Look at them! How do they get so big without falling over?” she asked, looking at Poe with wide, curious eyes.
He grinned, hands stuffed in the pockets of his new jacket–he’d gotten his old one repaired while Finn was in a coma, and the swathe of red material replacing the lightsaber damage had made the ex-Trooper beam at him. “Hey, I’m a flyboy, not a botanist. I don’t pay attention to trees unless they’re in my way.”
often times my mouth doesn’t move as fast as my brain does, so I either end up pausing to think for long periods of time in the middle of a sentence or I end up jumbling words and stuttering as a result (this is a common symptom of ADHD)
and I want people with and without ADHD to understand this
so shout out to all my fellow peeps with ADHD or ADD
you’re not stupid
you’re not weird
just take a breath and know your brain is literally so full and smart and working that your body just has a hard time keeping up sometimes.
Is this what happens to me when I turn into a broken record, and I’m talking about something, and then I get caught on a word that I can’t get past?
Like, “I’m talking about something I’m really excited about and I really wanted to tell you, tell you, tell you, tell you–” and then I have to start over. Is that an ADHD thing? I just figured I was a train wreck.
Minimum wage is meant as a stepping stone to earning more later on in life.
I see minimum wage for teens, undergraduate students, elderly, and those living with a disability.
Let’s see what President FDR had to say about the minimum wage:
“No business which depends for existence on paying less than living wages
to its workers has any right to continue in this country.” (1933, Statement on
National Industrial Recovery Act)
“By living wages, I mean more than a bare subsistence level — I mean the
wages of a decent living.” (1933, Statement on National Industrial Recovery
Act)
Also, ahahaha “It shouldn’t be a living wage. It’s for people with disabilities and old folks” who…apparently don’t deserve to live.
I couldn’t find a job that paid me a living wage when I was an undergrad. So I got two. And I still ended up maxing out two credit cards and regularly over drafting. And since I was working so much I also started getting Ds and Cs so I lost my small honors scholarship. So I had to drop out of college and keep working low wage jobs.
My credit is still a mess almost a decade later, I still haven’t been able to get back to school. And I’m still paying off the student loans I took out trying to survive my two years in college.
But yeah totally undergrads don’t need to make a living wage. Take a fucking seat OP. Only someone extremely privilege enough to not need a living wage during those times has the luxury of believing the bullshit you’re spewing.
woah wait why do people with a disability not need to make a living??
Because ableist douchebags like the OP think we don’t deserve to live.
So…just to recap…according to the OP…
Elderly people: don’t deserve to live, even though…they’re people.
Disabled people: don’t deserve to live, even though…they’re people.
Teens and undergrads who might be supporting themselves completely because either their family doesn’t have the money to help or won’t help: don’t deserve to live, even though…they’re people.
being a female means needing to see 10 different doctors to get a proper diagnosis because they always think you’re exaggerating and/or lying
define proper diagnosis. I mean, does that just mean the diagnosis you want?
no :) it means going to 10 different doctors who disbelieved your symptoms until the 11th found cysts on your ovaries :) which may mean infertility :) sit on a cactus :)
I call bullshit
Of course you do. Like the first 10 doctors. 😒
I call bullshit on the story. If you think you have an issue you should see a specialist not just your PCP.
Like the 4 “specialists” I saw for the crippling numbness in my face and legs I had for over a year while they told me it was “stress”? When it was finally found that I had scars on my brain and spine? Those “specialists” we’re male neurologist who wouldn’t give me an MRI because “women stress too much”. Go fuck yourself.
MY SPINE WAS BROKEN FOR 2 YEARS BECAUSE MY DOCTORS TOLD ME I JUST HAD BAD CRAMPS AND REFUSED TO TAKE XRAYS. FUCK YOU AND YOUR ENTIRE LIFE. WHEN WILL BOYS REALIZE THEIR EXPERIENCES ARENT STANDARD???? I ALSO LOVE THIS IDEA THAT YOU CAN JUST GO TO A SPECIALIST WHENEVER YOU WANT LOL IF OUR PCP DOESNT BELIEVE US WHEN WE TELL THEM OUR SYMPTOMS THEY ARENT GONNA REFER US TO A SPECIALIST YOU FUCKING MOLDY WALNUT
My parents began noticing something large in my throat, saw a specialist….Guess what? Told me to lose some weight..even though I wasn’t overweight. I would have my period for weeks at a time. Was told that it was teenage hormones and stress.
Two fucking years later I attempted suicide they ran a battery of tests as required and bam! They find out that I have untreated Hashimoto’s. The “thing” was a goiter. Possible symptoms of an untreated thyroid disease is the goiter, unexplained weight gain, and depression. All they had to do was test my blood, but they said young people don’t have thyroid problems. 😒
-Allie
Ten years ago, my mother—who is a pretty tough cookie—started feeling both ridiculously wired, anxious, and incredibly emotional. Every doctor she saw told her she was going through early menopause, even though she was still menstruating. Her health declined to point where she was barely sleeping, losing weight, and crying constantly, which was a huge red flag because my mother never cries. Finally, she went to see another doctor 2.5 hours away who referred her to an endocrinologist. And what did the endocrinologist say? He diagnosed her with one of the most advanced cases of Grave’s Disease he had even seen, and said if she had gone just a few more months without being treated, she could have FUCKING DIED.
Also, it turned out that her thyroid levels had been moving out of the normal range in a progressive pattern for years, but nobody bothered to look at her past test results until after the diagnosis. They would just do a test, see that it was “in the normal range” and leave it at that. She could have caught it before she even had symptoms, instead of basically being accused of having hysteria.
i had a brain aneurysm/hemorrhage ten years ago, doctors still tell me im faking my disability BECAUSE YOU CAN TOTALLY FAKE LIMITED MOVEMENT OF THE LEFT SIDE
My sister had intercranial hypertension which was causing headaches, dizzy spells and loss of vision, and you know what the hospital told her? She was being a hysterical girl and making it up. A few weeks later she spent roughly a month in hospital and had several lumbar punctures to relieve her RECORD HIGH spinal pressure that was causing so much strain on her brain and optic nerves she was being sent blind.
Everytime I see this post (and it’s been a good 5/6 times), it has different stories and experiences of women who have been horribly mistreated by doctors and it just blows my mind that this is so big. It’s absolutely disgusting how terribly women are treated in the medical world and something needs to be done about that.
my friend lea had back pain, then pain in her legs and feet, and then numbness. despite seeing 7 different doctors over 2 years, by the time they found the cancer it was inoperable. chemo and radiation didn’t work. the cancer spread. she died and left behind a 5 year old daughter.
A few years ago I would go through spells where I literally could not stand on my own and I couldn’t get out of bed. I would be freezing and too weak to eat. I would keep having heart palpitations as well. I got up the money to go to a clinic and they told me it was just stress and to basically just work on chilling out. I saved up money for a few weeks to do this and I pretty much get a “chill out” from them.
As time went on it got worse, most noticeably the heart palpitations were happening almost constantly. I went again to a different clinic and was told it was normal and that it was probably stress. They did no tests, and they told me it would “just go away”.
Two weeks later I ended up collapsing going down some stairs, and at the hospital it was discovered that I had such severe anemia that my heart could barely keep up with trying to get enough oxygen to my body. I had developed left ventricular hypertrophy (my heart muscle is too big) and because of them ignoring me and dismissing me I’m at a much higher risk of heart attacks and stroke now.
I went to the doctor with severe intermittent pain in my upper right stomach area that was so bad I had to miss school. Despite the fact that my period has been on a regular 3 month cycle for years, and I still had two months left until my period, my doctor told me it was period related cramps and or indigestion. 2 months later I’m in the hospital getting my gallbladder removed. It was so obstructed that there was gangrene developing my my system.
So…everyone who’s given me shit for that one post (about medicine and equal treatment and shit) can just read this because I’m sick of defending my case.
I’d like to take a second to list all the people I wish had known more about dyscalculia growing up:
My first grade teacher, who noticed when on a verbal counting test that I went from 99 to 100 to 200 and told my parents I just needed a little practice
My third grade teacher, who couldn’t understand why I would turn in a timed multiplication table test with absolutely nothing written on it, or burst into tears when asked to bring it home and have it signed by my parents
My school corporation, who placed me in advanced mathematics for two excruciating years based on aptitude tests, apparently unaware that aptitude and ability are not one and the same
My fifth grade teacher, who privately admonished me for “laziness” because I couldn’t stop making “silly mistakes”—like switching multiplication and addition, or flipping numbers like three and eight, or failing to follow every step of a math problem
My sixth grade math teacher, who publicly called me out for writing the formula for the Pythagorean Theorem on my hand, claiming I didn’t study, though I had spent five hours the night before preparing
My parents, who grounded me every time my report card came out, trying their best to discipline what they thought was laziness
My family doctor, who, once told about my math troubles, prescribed me ADD medication without any running any kind of diagnostic
My Algebra teacher senior year after I was diagnosed, who claimed that giving me extra time on my test would be “unfair to the other students”
Every teacher who ever laughed and pointed at the clock when I asked them what time it was
The boy in my band class that said I was the “stupidest smart person he’d ever met”
My former boss, who when I told I had dyscalculia told me “I probably have it too, I am always mixing things up!” (she was an accounting major and ran the accounting portion of that place of business)
But you know who would have really benefited from knowing about dyscalculia? Me. I wish I had known. I wish I could go back and tell my ten year old self that it wasn’t my fault, that I am extraordinary in the best way. I wish someone, somewhere along the way could have seen what was really going on.
That’s why dyscalculia awareness is so important.
oh my god.
I. had no idea this was a thing. looked up the symptoms and
‘inability to tell, at a glance, how many objects are in a small group’
THIS. THIS IS A THING? THAT OTHER PEOPLE HAVE?
‘struggles with directions, anxious about moving from one location to another’
I memorized the route to all my classes in high school and yet if I didn’t have COMPLETE AND UTTER FOCUS I would STILL GET LOST it was so unbelievably stressful
‘is constantly late because struggles with understanding the passage of time’
‘struggles to read analog clocks’
‘moves too fast or too slow’
‘struggles with basic math/memorizing math facts like times tables and formulas’
GOD. I spent MONTHS on those times table tests; long after everyone else had gotten theirs done, I was still taking and retaking those awful, awful tests.
And I still have to turn everything into addition to get it to make sense. 10-7? count up from 7 to 10, on my fingers. do it again to make sure I’ve done it right. 4x6? that’s 6+6+6+6. keep track of it on my fingers. do it again to be sure. 18/3? start adding threes together, keeping track of how many it takes, on my fingers. do it again to be sure. STILL SOMETIMES GET IT WRONG because even addition is hard.
just.
dyscalculia.
is a thing.
thank you for this post.
Oh my god, Set.
I do the counting up thing on my fingers, the sets of sixes… I have the worst time with clocks and times tables…
Can’t NOT count what is on the table instead of being able to guess right away… I am always early, always. Because I have no idea what time I’ll be able to get there by. I cannot “get” analog clocks!
And perhaps this isn’t part of it but as soon as a number is no longer 100% necessary I forget it. Which is awful when I figure it out, do what needs doing and someone asks me the number.
Estimating cost of items in cart? Lord what??? People can do this without a calculator? I have no judgement of time either. Has it been a minute? An hour? Idk man. Wow. Woooooow. I should look into this more…
right?!?
god, ESTIMATING I HATE ESTIMATING prices and rounding and estimating
do you remember those standardized testing questions that were like ‘guess how many cubes are in this pile of cubes’ or ‘guess how many olives are in this olive jar’ I was always like BUT HOW?? ugh I hated those.
and yes! the forgetting the numbers mid-problem thing!
man, tipping causes me great anxiety, because tipping is IMPORTANT and I have to use a calculator or write it down and then I feel like people are judging me and the ABSOLUTE WORST is when you have to figure out the tip, add it to your bill, select a suitable amount of money, and then TELL THEM HOW MUCH MONEY YOU WANT BACK nooooooo please no
I was going through my emails and one of my online orders has been dispatched and when I ordered it I had to put in a state but New Zealand doesn’t have states and I was annoyed so I put “New Zealand doesnt have states you fuckass” and now in the dispatch email under delivery addess it totally has “New Zealand doesnt have states you fuckass” as part of it woops.
I write. I swear to God. I actually love writing fanfic. BUT, and here’s the catch, I have a ton of trouble coming up with short fic ideas. Short anything ideas, really. The most memorable example is that one time I decided to write how I thought someone being able to see the future would pan out, just a few pages of character study, dicking around with super powers, nothing fancy. Smash cut to a year and a half later, I’m wrapping up my 350 page novel and staring dismally at my 200 additional pages of worldbuilding. And it’s always like that, it gets so out of hand.
SO. My solution to that is this. If you have a craving for a specific pairing that you know I ship, shoot me a prompt and I’ll throw together a short fic for you and post it. I’m trying to unwind after finals, so it’ll be good for me, and you’ll get fic, so it’ll be good for you.
Hit me up.
This is your reminder that I’m bored and open for prompts.
*banging my fists on a table* LET CASHIERS HAVE CHAIRS
Every time I see a cashier with a chair I’m like “I support this business”, no joke. That shit shows me that a company actually CARES about it’s employees. Quit making people stand on their feet for 8 hours straight that shit is torture.
Wait, do cashiers not have chairs in the US?
No, we don’t. At least not where I’m at. We need to stand on our feet so we don’t look “lazy” to the customer
Okay, this might be a stupid question but how do checkouts in big grocery stores and such work in the US? In Germany they look like this:
you put your stuff on the belt thing and the cashier checks it but that doesn’t really work when they’re standing - at least it wouldn’t be as comfortable for the cashier or the customer
It’s just like that, except the cashier is standing
in sixth grade my homeroom teacher caught this kid stephen saying, “that’s so gay.”
so he told the class that for the rest of the week, anytime you wanted to express something negatively, you could say, “that’s so stephen.”
and it started out as a joke, where even this stephen kid was going around using it, laughing at it, not really caring. it was funny, i guess.
but then one of his friends got a bad mark on a test and said, “that’s so stephen.”
we had a blacktop recess and everyone kept saying, “that’s so stephen.”
and when we got too loud doing groupwork and had to separate and work silently, everyone in the class kept muttering, “that’s so stephen.”
and the weirdest part was that even though it was just a word we were using, even though it had nothing to do with stephen, we all sort of blamed stephen.
and as everyone kept using “that’s so stephen,” all week, you could see stephen himself finding it less and less funny. we played a game called “pamplemousse” in french class and everyone got stephen out right away if they could. someone literally went and found one of stephen’s art projects when nobody else was around and ruined it so he had to start over.
and when my homeroom teacher found out about it, he sat everyone down and told us that it wasn’t okay to say “that’s so stephen” anymore. that the things we’d been blaming him for weren’t his fault and the things we’d been doing to him weren’t fair.
he told us that stephen couldn’t help it that he was stephen. he didn’t choose to be stephen. he was born stephen.
and that’s when it clicked.
we all felt pretty stupid, i think, for sort of falling for it, but i’ll be damned if i’ve ever had a teacher get a lesson across so utterly and completely as mr. bernard did.
One of my favourite anecdotes about the first Golden Age of Piracy is that, at one point, Captain Henry Morgan left England in one ship, and arrived in the Caribbean commanding a completely different ship, and nobody knows why. What happened to the first ship and how he acquired the second one are entirely unrecorded.
At some point in his short career (1715 until 1718), the English pirate Ben Hornigold attacked a sloop near Honduras just to steal all the hats of the crew, because his own crew had gotten drunk the night before and they had tossed every single one of their own hats overboard.
Bartholomew Roberts, arguably the most successful pirate in history by ships captured (a whopping 470 in 3 years), didn’t actually want to be a pirate. His ship was captured and he was forced to join the pirate crew.
My personal fave is Sam Bellamy. His life story reads like a tragic epic novel - poor sailor boy, becomes one of the youngest/wealthiest/most generous (“Robin Hood of the Sea”) pirate captains, hangs out being a pirate with his other dudebro pirate captains, left a mysterious love back from his days of poor sailor boyitude, tragically and abruptly dies at 28 in a storm alongside his closest dudebro pirate captain (possibly whilst on his way to revisit his mysterious love).
These are all great but I think there are two things in particular we really need to talk about:
1. Attacking a ship simply to steal the crews hats has never happened in a movie at that is a travesty.
2. What I’m getting from this is that Bartholomew Roberts is quite literally the Dread Pirate Roberts.
Today I got a reply to a comment saying that the author had been so discouraged by the lack of response on the last two chapters that they had decided not to finish it, but that they had changed their mind and were now thinking of finishing. Just because I took 30 seconds to comment on each chapter.
It doesn’t matter if the fic is years old
It doesn’t matter if you don’t know what to say (“I loved this” is always music to an author’s ears, no matter how many times we hear it)
The author will not think you’re a creeper if you’re commenting on every single one of their fics
The author WILL cuddle your comments close to their hearts like the precious gems that they are, even if they’re only one word.
Comments and feedback matter. I’ve written in fandoms and for pairings that have very active, vocal fans who comment a lot, and I’ve written for ships that are not terribly popular and don’t get much reaction. The difference in my attitude is incredible.
Your feedback matters to authors. Click the kudos button, but please, take the time to leave a comment. Even if it’s just one word. If you like the writing and want to see more, let the author know
/rant
yes yes yes yes yes yes
Comments are very motivational.
Kudos is wonderful and I want to thank everyone who’s ever clicked that little heart on AO3 but I have to admit, getting a comment would be even nicer :)
I live for comments. Every time I get one, my confidence and happiness goes through the roof. As an amateur writer, knowing that someone out there reads and likes my stuff - and likes it enough to spend time writing in response - is probably the greatest feeling in the world.
I look at ever single reblog to see if they put tags saying they like it, it honestly means so much to get something saying you enjoyed & if you say it directly to me I will legit thankyou so many times bc it honestly keeps me going
also that whole tale of aragorn and arwen thing where he saw her in the woods at twenty and fell instantly in love and it’s very beren and luthien? lies.
aragorn decided he was going to marry arwen when he was like, six.
and everyone thought it was just the cutest thing, baby estel with his little crush on the great immortal evenstar, and everyone would tease him about it relentlessly and he would get so mad, and pout, because how dare they doubt his word.
(arwen spent a lot of time biting back smiles and nodding very seriously when aragorn brings this up with her. no, estel, I do not know why they are laughing perhaps they have remembered a particularly funny joke.)
and then aragorn grows into this gangly teen and oh my god can you imagine being a pimply greasy teenager around fucking elves it’s a wonder he has any self-image left. His voice breaks every other word and the laundresses are beginning to wonder if something is wrong with the sheets because estel keeps washing them himself and aragorn wants to die, god, arwen is never going to marry him if he stays all elbows and skinny knees and he can’t even look her in the eye anymore without blushing, eye contact is probably something to look for in a husband–
(arwen, who never had to go through puberty because elves don’t do anything so undignified, tries to comfort him by saying she likes his blemishes. aragorn gives her a look of such utter, miserable despair that she starts laughing.)
(this is a mistake. he spends the next three weeks nursing his wounded ego and refusing to see her.)
estel is twenty when he asks for her hand. he is lean, slender and fair as a new tree, and so arwen does not feel guilt in kissing his cheek and gently refusing. he is still green, he will weather greater storms than this–and he takes it as he should, clasping her hand and swearing to ever be her loyal friend.
they write to each other–when she is in lorien, when he wanders with the rangers of the north, fights alongside gondor, travels to distant lands. it is an inconstant tie–he is rarely afforded time enough to put pen to paper; she is reserved so as not to encourage what may not be. (she signs her letters always, your friend. She likes him too well to be cruel in this.)
the years pass. his weariness and strife creeps onto the page, and she sends him tokens to fend off the darkness–leaves from lothlorien, the ribbon from her hair, snippets of poems. it is not enough it is never enough I am sorry, she writes.
his reply is gentle: you are enough. do not stop writing.
(she carries that letter tucked inside her sleeve for a long while, like a talisman–though against what evil, she does not know.)
she is in the house of her grandmother when a familiar voice calls out to her: my lady luthien!
this is when arwen looks up, sees aragorn–broad of chest and rugged, still wearing his battered mail, with one hand balanced lazily on the pommel of his sword. All the trees of caras galadhon are gold but he is shadow and silver, kingliness resting lightly on his shoulders–
I’m on very strict orders to put out the third section today, so here, this is the last section of this story. Murder happens, if blood is an issue for you. If you haven’t read them yet, here are Parts the First and Second.
Here are the things that everyone
knows about Harry Ainsel.
One.
Harry is short for Angharad, a nickname taken after years of mangled
pronunciations and never shrugged off.
(Fact: ‘Angharad’ means ‘more love,’ which Harry has always found funny,
in a bitter and ironic sort of way.
‘Harry’ means nothing at all, and she is easier behind the armor of it.)
Two.
Harry was born at the last stroke of sundown on the spring equinox. (Fact: this information could not be hidden
from her cousin, and they could not be convinced to hide such a prime weapon
from the rest of the world. Harry has
borne up under the hisses of ‘half-folk’ and ‘shadow-girl’ for nineteen years,
with teeth and fists clenched tight.)