No guys don’t worry this young woman’s celebrity is going to be totally different. No yeah we’re going to do it right this time, she’s totally not going to be exploited at all. No i promise it’s different this time this teenager is totally in charge of her career, she’s not made to do anything. Yeah we promise we’re going to make sure this rapid rise in fame and complete stripping of privacy is not going to do any long term damage this time, she’s going to be totally fine this time

last of us tv adaption decided to make a Gay Romance For The Ages out of a Gay Pettiness Subplot and i respect that sm 💘but PLEASE recognize both r valid

desperately need people to understand that alicent is a victim but she’s also an abuser and a perpetrator

that she actively makes choices to harm other women because of jealousy and envy and the greed deep in her bones because submitting to suffering didn’t get her what those women fight to grasp for themselves.

she is absolutely a victim, in show.

that doesn’t change that she abused rhaenyra and her children, her own son, most likely helaena given how she flinches every time her mother touches her, and is actively weaponizing the patriarchy of westeros against other women- rhaenyra primarily, but also mysaria and dyana.

she isn’t the moral, righteous force of good that even she thinks she is, she’s a wounded woman directing all of the rot, pain, and fury inside her at the wrong people and forces.

any action cartoon made after 2008 doesn't last... all they know is, be bisexual, get cancelled & fucked over by executives

wrote a whole long post about dean’s relationship to his queerness and then deleted it because i couldn’t put it better than: there is a word i know. but i can’t say it. i can’t think it. i’ll just keep drawing horses

Midnight thought of the day: I feel like Wild deserves to be a little annoyed after the whole thing in the doodles where Twilight wouldn’t let him hunt and Legend wouldn’t let him shoot seagulls, like we have to remember that it’s implied that this guy cooks for nine people several times a day. And meat is probably really good for their high exercise kind of lifestyle.

Like he’s perfected cooking while traveling and knows how to maximize meals for days full of cardio without ending up exhausted and it would irritate him that people are trying to limit what few things he can make and make it harder for him to get enough food for them all anyway.

He’s kind of the hunter of the group, he’s the archer, he’s the one Legend worried about getting him when he’s in bunny form. And even when others help him collect ingredients by fishing they do it in the slow way that may not provide enough food for them and get mad when he’s being efficient about it.

I NEED TO KNOW WHEN JEANS BIRTHDAY IS

masc!reader x price

The air is freezing on the hill that you and Price had decided to climb up an hour ago when there was still a tiny slither of light left in the sky. You're wrapped up not-very-warm in tactical gloves and your usual everyday clothes, maybe a little generously with one jacket shared between you. But hey, it makes for a perfect excuse to sit down on the damp grass once you reach the peak, huddled together like two cold penguins.

Stars litter the darkness above the hill, and you're high enough to see out for miles. You rest your cheek on the top of John's beanie, holding his head to your chest and his hands in your own. He cuddles into you closer, pressing his lips to your palms every so often.

"Can see the whole city from up here," you murmur, kissing his forehead and gazing out over Liverpool as he does the same. Your Captain hums, eyes flicking to you for a moment.

"Look out for my nana's house." You glance at him, then giving him a gentle squeeze, reply, voice a little quieter and understanding.

"'Course I will, sweetheart."

Read an exclusive excerpt of "Chapter 5: The Mysterious Cal and Lily" from Tangled Vines: A Complete Investigation of the Vatore Disappearances, the bestselling phenomenon sweeping Sim Nation!

The advent of the Roaring '20s put a new city on the map. Prohibition was in full swing across the nation (though often loosely and selectively enforced), but citizens were more eager than ever to revel in excess. Producers of alcoholic beverages (including the Vatore family itself, having swiftly resumed business operations despite the loss of its future inheritors) transitioned to an outward emphasis on medical spirits while moving recreational production underground. Equally clandestine speakeasys began cropping up by the dozens, but one city's winding sidewalks, grimy storefronts, and labyrinthine system of underground tunnels made it particularly well-suited to hosting these secret locales. Soon enough, San Myshuno was the pinnacle of glitz, glamor, and elegant debauchery. All who attended a party wanted to be seen. Curiously, though, two of the names most often uncovered in tabloid archives, Cal and Lily, seemed to fully avoid the increasingly ubiquitous flash of the camera. While other frequenters of the speakeasy circuit often found their grainy black and white faces in print, providing endless fodder for the burgeoning gossip rag industry, this pair remained elusive, which of course sold even more papers. Fellow partygoers pitched first-hand accounts to the highest bidders, and readers clung onto every salacious word. Lily and Cal were always observed to arrive together, but she would soon make a beeline for the gramophone while he settled in at the bar. Nearly every report calls Lily an exquisite beauty with an almost supernatural ability for drawing men into her orbit. In some instances, partygoers describe a herd of suitors nearly erupting into fisticuffs as they competed for her attention. It is impossible to say how many of these accounts are exaggerated or even fabricated. Nevertheless, it is clear she was quite the force. At the end of the night, she would leave with her chosen companion, stupefied by his stroke of good luck, on her arm. Meanwhile, Cal would watch listlessly from a distance, nursing a glass of whiskey he was never observed to actually drink. The relationship between the two was unclear, as was his reason for accompanying her, as he seemed to have little interest in the raucousness surrounding him. He rarely engaged with other guests or even Lily herself, though there is at least one report of an argument in which he seemed with little success to be dissuading her from leaving with yet another man. One cannot help but draw parallels to a certain set of siblings with suspiciously similar names. Despite being younger, Caleb Vatore was always said to be protective over his sister Lilith's interests, even if she rarely heeded his advice. Digging into the newspaper archives at Myshuno Meadows Library unearths several more disturbing accounts. Increasingly, there were whispers that the men Lily seduced completely vanished from San Myshuno society after coming into contact with her. While there was a small spike in unsolved murder cases at the time, a concrete connection between the victims and the mysterious Lily cannot be made. In one story, which admittedly reads like a hallucinatory drug trip, Lily is described as a succubus with glowing red eyes and sharp blood-stained teeth. This account was clearly dismissed, for its revelations were never entertained further. All at once, the champagne and glitter dissolved into a more sober era, and these socialites vanished from public life just as swiftly. In isolation, similarities between Cal and Lily and the disappeared Vatore siblings may seem like mere coincidences. In truth, it cannot even be proven that they existed. No official records matching either individual have been discovered. One could argue that they were works of fiction concocted to boost sales or composites drawn from several individuals. However, considered alongside the evidence to be presented in later chapters, the theory that this duo and the Vatores are one and the same becomes too tantalizingly probable to dismiss.

people hate lesbians. PEOPLE HATE LESBIANS!!!

Btw, if writers are supposed to stick to very narrow lanes in terms of what they're allowed to write, that would mean Terry Pratchett, a white British man, should never have written Nation, a novel exploring themes of colonization (amongst many others) from the perspective of a fictionalised tribe reminiscent of the very sorts of people his country has murdered and colonized over the centuries. And Nation is one of the best books I've read in quite some time.

Is this a shameless plug to read Nation, btw? Yes it is. Go read it now. Then everything else that man ever wrote.