Everybody in the world has a superpower that compliments their soulmates superpower. When together, both their powers increase in strength exponentially. You have the most useless power ever, when one day……
But what if Anakin isn’t ignoring Kylo Ren? What if that great pull Kylo feels towards the Light is Anakin Skywalker desperately trying to save his grandson from his own fate, the way his wife and son tried to save him?
what if Anakin is literally constantly standing behind Kylo Ren, sputtering with ghostly frustration, going, “No! No! No! Do not do that! Do NOT do that! oh for fuck’s sake.”
This is almost certainly what is actually happening.
“Ben if you skewer my son-in-law with that lightsaber then SO HELP ME”
“Ben Solo your mother is blaming me for this, get your ass home and apologize now or I swear-”
And Yoda and Obi-wan are watching, shaking their heads. “Now you know how we felt,” Obi-wan says.
Yoda agrees: “A bitch, karma is.”
I love this. So many people can just totally see Anakin trying to strangle Ben from the afterlife.
The Waynes, being a noble and ancient house, do have a family motto– it’s dignified and Latin, and it’s on the family crest– but the current generation has decided that the family motto is actually “talk shit, get hit” and frankly, Bruce doesn’t know how to handle that
“Could somebody please remind Tim of the family motto” “Talk shit, get hit, Timothy” why are his kids like this?? Translating it into Latin doesn’t make it legitimate, but nice try
Tim and Damian have one of those “It has been __ days since our last incident” dry erase boards hanging in kitchen. They have never hit double digits, and they are not ashamed.
You know those people that spoil the movie halfway through because they figured out what’s going to happen? Bruce. And because he does that, all of his kids try to beat him to the punch. The Detective Clan has been permanently disinvited from all superhero movie nights. (Especially Dick. He’s the worst offender.)
Since Duke is entering the batfamily– and living in the Manor– with very little knowledge of the existing members, odds are most of his information about the other kids will come from Damian. Please. Imagine that trainwreck.
Warren and Tyagi demonstrated that buying common luxury items wasn’t the issue for most Americans. The problem was the fixed costs, the things that are difficult to cut back on. Housing, health care, and education cost the average family 75 percent of their discretionary income in the 2000s. The comparable figure in 1973: 50 percent. Indeed, studies demonstrate that the quickest way to land in bankruptcy court was not by buying the latest Apple computer but through medical expenses, job loss, foreclosure, and divorce.
Giving up a latte or another such small extravagance in this environment wasn’t going to be enough. Yet the personal finance shills continued to tell people their problems were mostly of their own making.
This strikes me as being directly related to those jackholes who are enraged when someone poor has some small or relatively small luxury: they think this is how economics work.
I’m tired of feeling guilty for every tiny indulgence that makes me feel human.
This makes me remember a story a friend of mine told me.
He was in a college course for learning financial stuff, like how to invest wisely and shit like that because he was working for the local library system in their accounting department and had to be able to advise employees on how best to use the new investment options the library was offering.
So, the professor tells the class that they should ALWAYS be saving at least $25 per paycheck into a savings account even when it’s hard because that is the only way to get into the habit of saving and also the quickest way to having emergency cash, but it was better to do at least $50.
Not terrible advice, certainly, but… My friend said there was no way he could do that. The professor scoffed at him about high dollar luxuries like coffee shop drinks or name brand food or clothes or a computer or using the bus instead of a car.
Now, my friend did not own a car; he bike rode everywhere. His wife used the bus. Both he and his wife worked. He did not buy name brand food; he got cheap store brand food in bulk and only bought what he already knew would be used in his meal calendar planned for two months at a time. He brewed his own coffee at home. He kept his electricity usage to a minimum and taught his wife and children to do the same. His kids weren’t indulged with sweets or many toys. They didn’t buy candy or hobby items. They got the free local TV channels which they honestly only used to track weather on a salvaged TV they got from a friend. They only got new clothing when their kids grew out of the old or something of theirs was too worn to patch or repair and always from thrift shops. All their furniture was secondhand and usually picked cheap from garage sales. They made the agonizing decision to purchase a home instead of renting because the net savings over all were justifiable because the house payments were cheaper than renting. They budgeted for a total of ten dollars to be put in the savings account per month, not per paycheck.
My friend and his wife planned their expenditures down to the cent at least two months in advance to make sure they could make it. They constantly researched to find the absolute best value of every item they bought. Thankfully, my friend had the analytical mind for that kind of planning. No purchase ever went unremarked upon or without heavy consideration, no matter how small. They spent wisely and stretched every dollar as far as it could go.
My friend brought in a hand written copy of his budget (because he didn’t have a computer or printer and paper was an expense he built into the budget so he could do the planning) and showed it to the professor the next day in front of the class and asked, “Where do I squeeze out $25 per paycheck?”
The professor hemmed and hawed as he went through the budget. He kept starting to say something on one line or another and then would stop himself and go to the next. Sometimes he would say shit things like “where is your gas column?” “We don’t own a car.” He spent about twenty minutes staring at my friend’s carefully planned and managed budget and could not see a single place where it could be improved.
“I guess you can’t,” the professor said and was apparently so bitter about being wrong that my friend had to keep from laughing at him even though the entire experience had soured him something awful.
People who are not struggling do not understand how money works for poor people and just assume we are horrible at managing it instead of realizing we just don’t have any. Luxury items aren’t killing us; low wages and a shit economy are.
You could have told me that this was written by Victor Hugo himself and it’s so accurate I probably would have believed it despite the reference to an appliance a century before it was invented
1. I died. MEANS: I am overwhelmed. NOT: I am deceased.
2. OTP MEANS: One True Pairing.
NOT: One Time Password.
3. Mom/Dad MEANS: Role Model.
NOT: Mother/Father.
4. I hate this. MEANS: I freaking love this.
NOT: I deplore this.
5. Slay. MEANS: Show ‘em how it’s done.
NOT: Murder.
6. Thanks for ruining my life, see you in hell. MEANS: You mean so much to my life. I’ll never leave this fandom.
NOT: A series of insults.
7. Adhkydvkvecibggrxavjnxjxsz MEANS: A state of wordless excitement.
NOT: An aneurism.
Also, 8. Rude! MEANS: This gave me a lot of feelings I didn’t ask for. NOT: Discourteous or impolite.
And, 9. How Dare You? MEANS: You are amazing, this is amazing! NOT: And express of indignation.
10. Fuck you and the horse you rode in on! MEANS: You made my heart hurt, but it’s a good hurt. I love you! NOT: I hate you and wish harm on you and your animals.
11. Was that necessary?? MEANS: Why did you remind me of that painful bit of characterisation/canon? NOT: You took that too far/That was needlessly painful for the sole purpose of reactions.
bless this new trend of saying ‘yikes’ honestly this is the word i’ve been looking for my whole life. the perfect combination of disinterested, detached, amused, and passive aggressive. five letters that say so much yet are vague enough that you won’t get involved in any drama
today my anthro professor said something kindof really beautiful:
“you all have a little bit of ‘I want to save the world’ in you, that’s why you’re here, in college. I want you to know that it’s okay if you only save one person, and it’s okay if that person is you”
I feel like a few people I know could stand to read this.
Padme is gonna fix it right? I mean, we haven't even gotten to the handmaiden-ing thing. Those girls will raise Anakin well, I think. ;)
“No one owns you, Ani,” Padmé repeats, not understanding how he can ask that like he’s worried. Except–she does. Of course she does.
He’s nine. And she’d even thought it herself, too.
Of course he’s worried about not being owned.
“You are a friend to Naboo, and you have done a great thing for our people,” she tells him quietly, again barely resisting the urge to grab his hands. She knows she would still grip them much too hard, especially now. “You will never be a slave again, but I promise, you will not be abandoned. Naboo will take care of you as one of our own, if you will have us. We would be honored to take care of you.”
“I can fix things,” Anakin says, ducking his head in a very young way, his hair hiding his eyes. "And I can fly–you saw, I’m a really good pilot. And I know how to–”
“Ani,” Padmé interrupts carefully, and allows herself to settle her hands very gently on his shoulders. “I know that you are valuable. You are very valuable to me. You are kind and you are brave, and–”
“I’m not brave!” Anakin blurts, shaking his head. “The Council would train me if I was brave. But they looked, and I’ve got too much fear in me.”
“That makes you no less valuable. We all have fear in us,” Padmé says, mystified as to how fear could possibly be a hinderance to a peacekeeper. Fear is like pain–a needed warning, and a lesson. “Fear is a thing that you feel, but brave is a thing that you do. And I have already seen you choose to do it time and again.”
Anakin ducks his head again, looking very small, and Padmé wants so badly to wrap him up in her arms and all her regalia and disappear him someplace where the Jedi and the Gungans and the Supreme Chancellor and just–none of them are, not a one, just herself and Sabé and Rabé and Eirtaé and–
Someone like Anakin should never look so small. Really, no one should, but Anakin of all people even less so.
“I can read Huttese and Bocce and I understand Binary, and I can fix anything I can take apart, and I can take apart anything if I’ve got tools. And I know how to build a portable vaporator and I built C-3PO all by myself, and I know how to find food and water in the desert and cook porridge and stew, and, and I–” he stutters, and Padmé just listens helplessly as he keeps obsessively rattling off his skills like he thinks needs to prove something about himself to her. She lets him, because he seems just as helpless to stop himself. She doesn’t know what to say anyway.
Maybe she has a little more sympathy for Obi-Wan holding back from telling him about the Council just yet, though. Listening to this hurts.
“That’s very good, Ani,” she manages once he finally runs out of words, or maybe just runs out of breath, and swallows hard at the sight of him. He’s flushed and half-panting and looks like he might cry. She feels like she might cry, and she wants to disappear him more than ever. She wishes Master Qui-Gon had lived. She wishes Obi-Wan could do–something. “I’m sure you’ll do very well on Naboo, if you stay.”
“Stay where?” Anakin asks, giving her an unnerved look, and Padmé thinks of his fear and uncertainty and poorly-defined concept of “freedom” and has a strange, irrational urge to never trust another sentient near him again.
“Wherever you want to,” she says anyway, because Anakin is free, even if he still doesn’t fully understand what it means, and she can’t answer that question for him. “We’ll help you find a place you like. Naboo will take care of you no matter where you are.”
“I’m scared,” Anakin says, shoulders hunching again and expression ashamed.
“That’s okay,” Padmé says, tightening her grip on his shoulders hopefully not too much. “You can fix things and fly, and you are a very good pilot. And you are so, so brave and kind.”
“I’m not,” Anakin says, shaking his head.
“Would an angel lie to you?” Padmé asks with a weak attempt at a smile. Anakin tries to return it, she thinks, but his attempt is even weaker. She does not blame him. “You can feel as afraid as you like. That’s fine. We’ll be here to help you be brave, too. We are Naboo. That is what we do for each other.”
Anakin stares at her for a long moment, nods helplessly, and then starts to cry. Padmé is certain she grips him too hard when she pulls him into a hug, but he only pushes in harder.
“We now know that 24 hours without sleep, or a week of sleeping four or five hours a night induces an impairment equivalent to a blood alcohol level of .1 percent. We would never say, ‘This person is a great worker! He’s drunk all the time!’ yet we continue to celebrate people who sacrifice sleep for work.”—
Rep. Gwen Moore (D-WI) has had enough of the growing movement to drug test poor people who need government assistance. So on Tuesday, she’s introducing a bill that she says will make things fairer.
Her “Top 1% Accountability Act” would require anyone claiming itemized tax deductions of over $150,000 in a given year to submit a clean drug test. If a filer doesn’t submit a clean test within three months of filing, he won’t be able to take advantage of tax deductions like the mortgage interest deduction or health insurance tax breaks. Instead he would have to make use of the standard deduction.
Her office has calculated that the people impacted will be those who make at least $500,000 a year. “By drug testing those with itemized deductions over $150,000, this bill will level the playing field for drug testing people who are the recipients of social programs,” a memo on her bill notes.
Moore has a personal stake in the fight. “I am a former welfare recipient,” she explained. “I’ve used food stamps, I’ve received Aid for Families with Dependent Children, Medicaid, Head Start for my kids, Title XX daycare [subsidies]. I’m truly grateful for the social safety net.”
I am 100% behind this idea.
YESYESYESYESYES
This is brilliant, and should absolutely happen.
Or it shouldn’t happen, and the insane, racist, classist policy of drug testing welfare recipients should be ended immediately.
I don’t understand why High School Musical 4 is going to get an entire new cast when all they had to do was set it at Chad and Ryan’s wedding
Sharpay - mellowed out some with age, still struggling to make it big, chronically single - insists she’s happy for Ryan but quickly devolves into her obligatory show-stopper about how she’s sick of waiting to meet someone who’s right for her. (Mostly the song entails Sharpay singing her ridiculously long laundry list of requirements while trying on bedazzled wedding dresses.)
There’s a running gag that Troy is supersupersuper late for the wedding. We may or may not ever actually see him, since Zac Efron didn’t even come to the damn ten year reunion and is apparently a huge party pooper. What we do see is Gabriella on the phone with him every fifteen minutes or so, urging him to hurry up. Eventually she decides that he’s obviously stuck in traffic because he doesn’t care about their friends enough and wonders if she should break up with him. Cue the obligatory once-a-movie Gabriella Is Sad song.
Taylor and Chad are SUPER amicable exes and she’s organizing the entire wedding with an iron fist. Chad and Ryan didn’t have to do anything. Kelsey is on piano. Zeke is baking their cake, obvs.
Troy is SUPPOSED TO BE Chad’s best man, but again, he’s supersupersuper late. At one point while Gabriella’s on the phone with him, Chad runs up behind her and yells “DUDE. GETCHA HEAD IN THE GAME” into the phone.
Honestly I’d watch this in a heartbeat and I hated HSM.
2016 is cancelled honestly fuck it I’m done. And you know what 2017 is suspended until further notice. Time is not allowed to advance till shit stops being so fucking awful.
1. Just because you took 7 classes in high school doesn’t mean you can manage 7 classes in college.
2. Just because you woke up at 6am everyday in high school doesn’t mean you can wake up at 6am everyday in college.
3. Just because you got straight A’s in high school doesn’t mean you’ll necessarily get straight A’s in college (and that’s okay).
4. Just because your teachers in high school said they were preparing you for college doesn’t mean you’re actually prepared for college.
5. If your advisor says it’s too much, it’s too much.
6. If Health Services says to take a day off, take a day off.
Ok so it’s the classic story of a young maiden wants a thing and a witch is like “promise me your first born child” and the maidens like “k” and that should be enough but no the witch keeps coming around like “yo where’s my first born child pls” and the maiden is like “bitch I don’t even have a boyfriend” and the witch keeps coming back and being like “how’s the bf search?” And just being generally annoying. then she just keeps coming round and hanging out and they fall in love and the first born child is already the witches and everyone lives happily ever after
Apply to a job, wait (1) day, then call. Give them your first and last name. Tell them you submitted an application and that you’re very motivated to find [Enter field name] work. Let the conversation lead you wherever it takes. Be very polite. Say” thank you for your time, I’ll be looking forward to hearing back from you.” Rinse, repeat. This is to force them to be looking out for your application.
When you get to the interview, shake their hand firmly, tell them your first and last name.
Describe your experiences as “ two years transcription and data entry” if you have a desk job interview and “ [however many years] costumer service, retail and stock” for your retail jobs.
Don’t use job “ buzz words” I stg they hear them all day. Say things like, “ I’m detail oriented and am very good at taking instruction.” “ I would like to work for a company with integrity and I feel that [ company name] would be a good fit”
When they ask you if you have “reliable transportation” say YES. don’t tell them what kind of transportation, just say yes. (if you don’t do this, you wont get the job , I’m telling you right now).
Research the company. Know what they do, why they do it, how OLD the company is. WHERE it was founded, and what kind of position you’re intending to apply for.
When they ask you “ give us a situation where you had to blah blah blah” Make one the fuck up. Make yourself sound good as hell, and like you put your company’s needs slightly above the customer’s needs, but make the customer happy.
If they ask you about being outgoing, Say you “like to focus on your work so you can concentrate on doing things right” (which buys you out of having to act friendly all the time)
Questions for after the interview:
1. Does this position offer upward mobility?
2. Do you enjoy working for the company? (if you’re not interviewing for a temp agency who will send you anywhere)
Then, shake their hand, Ask them to repeat their name (REMEMBER THIS) say thank you for your time, wish them a nice day and leave. write their name down outside if you have to, just remember the fuck out of it.
AFTER your interview, send a card directed to the name of the person who interviewed you (I’ll give you them) that says “Thank you for the interview, I appreciate the opportunity. have a great day” This shows that you have an understanding of professionalism, and will have them thinking of you kindly (or at least remembering you) when they’re shuffling through the choices.
DO NOT tell them you just moved to the city over the phone. In person, tell them you just moved to the city. Make it sound like the only reason you need a job is because you moved. Not because you’re desperate.
__________
The titles of each section are key words you can use to search for jobs on Snagajob.com and Simplyhired.
For @littlestartopaz, with the prompt “Your technomancer has a nightmare about the
electric-user and decides checking on her is the best way to calm down. But the
electric user wakes up before she can leave.”
All right kids
quick rundown of the shit you need to know (because these are characters from
one of the as-yet-untitled novels I’m writing, not fandom-access
characters). It’s set in a near future
where…basically Trump wins the presidency and sets himself up as a
dictator. We’re about 18 years down the
line from the guy (Stone) getting elected and shit’s gone to hell in a pretty
big way. People are getting deported,
people are reporting their neighbors to the police, whole families are vanishing
overnight. If you’re LGBT, non-white,
non-Christian, an immigrant, or an outspoken supporter of any of those things,
you’re in deep shit and a candidate for being disappeared. The novel revolves around Max, who is part of
a rebel organization called Polaris (largely made up of the people listed
above) and who is one of a few people who’ve started to pop up with superhuman
abilities. The existence of these
people—she calls them ‘blues’ and since she was the first one Polaris found,
they go with it—is pretty much an urban legend, largely because the government
has that shit on lock. Max’s ability
allows her to manipulate technology with her mind and make it do…basically
whatever she wants. Her (eventual)
girlfriend Lessa Stone is the daughter of the Trump-equivalent dictator, who
broke Max out of a holding cell and joined Polaris. Lessa, besides being gay as FUCK, is also a
blue, with the ability to generate a massive electrical current in her body and
project it as lightning bolts. So
basically I’m writing a novel that can be summarized as “girlfriends with
superpowers join a cast of LGBT people and PoC to smash the patriarchy.” This snippet takes place sometime between
Lessa joining Polaris and the two of them getting together properly (Lessa has
Some Issues to sort out regarding her sexuality, shockingly).
I shuddered awake, panting. The room was black around me, nothing to
reorient myself, and my hands shook as I reached out and fumbled with the lamp
on the floor next to my cot until the bulb flared to life.
Reblog for the next day even though I posted this at a perfectly reasonable hour because Adler told me to start doing that. And she has learned that if you needle me about my writing until I’m really flustered and then immediately hit me with a command about my writing, the command gets followed.
“Obi-Wan told me about the Council,” Padmé says gently as she stops beside Anakin, and he looks away from the smoldering remains of the pyre to give her a confused, worried look she can just barely see by the light of the dying fire. He looks exhausted, unsurprisingly. He’s just a little boy, and the pyre has been burning for hours and hours. It’s a miracle he’s even awake, much less standing.
“What about the Council?” he asks. Padmé’s lips thin. Obi-Wan at least could’ve–no, no. She won’t blame a man who’s lost someone so dear to him for being unwilling to immediately break bad news to a child who’s grieving and frightened himself at a damn funeral.
Well. She might, a little, but she won’t dwell on it, and she won’t hold it against him.
But Anakin saved her people. No matter her own grief, Padmé could never treat him so poorly just to spare herself. She would’ve thought the same of a Jedi.
“They’ve told him that they will not see you trained as a Jedi,” she says. It’s not the entire truth–it leaves out Obi-Wan’s own silence, and the way he’d denied her eyes as he held it–but it is true, all the same.
Kinder, she thinks, where there cannot truly be a “kind”.
“Oh,” Anakin says. There’s a listless numbness to the response, and his already dull eyes unfocus, drifting to a point just past her shoulder. Something stabs into Padmé’s chest at the sight.
“You will be coming with me,” she says abruptly, drawing herself up as her hands tighten inside her sleeves. She’d meant to ask it, not declare it–that had been her intention on the way over, leaving Obi-Wan behind–but all she can think when she sees that look on Anakin’s face is how abandoned and unwanted he must feel. He could not possibly think a worse thing than that.
“Yes, Master,” Anakin says quietly, looking at the ground.
“Ani,” Padmé says, her expression stricken, and Anakin flinches. She wants to throw her damn title on the fire. “Ani, no, I didn’t mean–I would never take your freedom from you. And even if I would, no one can do that here. This is the Republic.”
“I don’t get it,” Anakin says uncertainly, his shoulders hunching. Padmé grits her teeth against the sight. She is wearing Queen Amidala’s face and should not let so much show on it, but she can’t help it when his face looks like that.
“I swear to you, Anakin Skywalker, no one is going to own you while I breathe,” she tells him fiercely, dropping quickly to her knees in front of him to put them on a level with each other and only resisting the urge to grab his hands because she doubts he’d find any reassurance in the grip. Especially not how tight she’s sure she’d make it, whether she meant to or not.
“But–you won’t own me either?” Anakin says, looking even more uncertain. “And Master Qui-Gon’s dead and his heir isn’t allowed to inherit me, so–so then I–”
“You’re free, Ani,” Padmé reminds him. She thought he knew what that meant. He does, doesn’t he?
