Quinn can make sense if you want her to. Just like Blaine.

sothinky:

poemsingreenink:

The thing that will forever irritate me the most about Glee fandom was the lack of…yeah okay sympathy, but really mostly the lack of imagination most people was willing to put forth when it came to Quinn’s storyline.

Based off very little little cannon information we have made huge, involved, interesting head cannons for Blaine’s family and using that information we explained everything form his wardrobe, his mental state, his infidelity and that one time he sneezed.

(We can infer and guess till the cows come home, but if cannon can blow your idea out of the water in 2.5 seconds with an actual scene of Blaine and his family then…yeah you’re doing some guess work. Which is pretty much what fandom is for so yay.)

We do the same thing with Kurt.

But with buckets of actual cannon information (Her horrible religious parents who she still loved even as they threw her out of the house. Remember the “Please I’m scared I need you!” conversation? Her roller coaster of a ride trying to fit back into Mckinley the fact that she..you know..had a baby at 16 and that maybe had an effect on her and how she viewed her life. Nothing? Really?” ) Quinn was just repeatedly written off as “Nope crazy. Glee writer’s hate Quinn and her storyline makes no sense. No sense at all. How can anyone make sense of that girls’ storyline?”

Let’s be honestly, LOTS of Glee storylines don’t make sense. But there was a surprising lack of attempts to put some of the pieces together to figure out why Quinn does the thing she does. And you can do it! You have BUCKETS of stuff to work with!

It was just really disappointing.

I always felt this way too, Poems. 

darksilenceinsuburbia:

Out of the Closets, Into the Streets: Gay Liberation photography 1971-1973 at Edmund Pearce Gallery, Melbourne

1. Phillip Potter. Gay is Good,1971, printed 2014

Digital C type print on Kodak Endura Matte
© Phillip Potter

 2. Phillip Potter. Queens, 1971

3. Ponch Hawkes.Gay Liberation march, Russell Street, Melbourne. Melbourne, 1973

4. Rennie Ellis.The Kiss, Gay Pride Week, Melbourne 1973. Silver gelatin photograph. © Rennie Ellis

5. Barbara Creed.Julian Desaily and Peter McEwan in the back of a VW Combi van, Melbourne. Melbourne, c. 1971-73. Digital C type print on Kodak Endura Matte. © Barbara Creed

6. John Englart.Dancing with the Hare Krishnas in the Sydney Domain. Sydney, 1973.Digital C type print on Kodak Endura Matte. © John Englart

7, 8 & 9. Anonymous. Graffiti on Melbourne streets.1971-73

gwydionmisha:

america-wakiewakie:

Forty Percent of Police Families Experience Domestic Violence | Jezebel 
In fact, domestic violence is two-to-four times as prevalent in police officer families as it is in the general population. Yikes.
The National Center for Women & Policing report that two studies have found that at least forty percent of police officer families experience domestic violence, in contrast to ten percent of families in the general population.
This is scary for many reasons, but perhaps most especially because police officers have privileges and accessibility that the average citizen does not.

Domestic violence is always a terrible crime, but victims of a police officer are particularly vulnerable because the officer who is abusing them:
1. has a gun,2. knows the location of battered women’s shelters, and3. knows how to manipulate the system to avoid penalty and/or shift blame to the victim.

One of the most disturbing parts is that police departments often handle cases of police family violence informally; without an “official report, investigation, or even check of the victim’s safety.”
This seems almost impossibly shady, but who knows? On all the police procedurals I watch (and that would be MANY), the cops always want to process everything above the board. But maybe that’s because our protagonists are “good cops”? Perhaps the reality is that not every cop is Benson or Stabler — it could be that the reality is much more depressing — or, er, realistic. At least it very much looks that way.
Perhaps this has something to do with the fact that NYPD cops are now required to run criminal background checks on victims of domestic violence. Yes, the victims. Jesus.
(Photo Credit: Anton Prado PHOTO/Shutterstock)

And if you leave, his buddies have a free hand to pull you over and harass you with no consequences to them.

gwydionmisha:

america-wakiewakie:

Forty Percent of Police Families Experience Domestic Violence | Jezebel 

In fact, domestic violence is two-to-four times as prevalent in police officer families as it is in the general population. Yikes.

The National Center for Women & Policing report that two studies have found that at least forty percent of police officer families experience domestic violence, in contrast to ten percent of families in the general population.

This is scary for many reasons, but perhaps most especially because police officers have privileges and accessibility that the average citizen does not.

Domestic violence is always a terrible crime, but victims of a police officer are particularly vulnerable because the officer who is abusing them:

1. has a gun,
2. knows the location of battered women’s shelters, and
3. knows how to manipulate the system to avoid penalty and/or shift blame to the victim.

One of the most disturbing parts is that police departments often handle cases of police family violence informally; without an “official report, investigation, or even check of the victim’s safety.”

This seems almost impossibly shady, but who knows? On all the police procedurals I watch (and that would be MANY), the cops always want to process everything above the board. But maybe that’s because our protagonists are “good cops”? Perhaps the reality is that not every cop is Benson or Stabler — it could be that the reality is much more depressing — or, er, realistic. At least it very much looks that way.

Perhaps this has something to do with the fact that NYPD cops are now required to run criminal background checks on victims of domestic violence. Yes, the victims. Jesus.

(Photo Credit: Anton Prado PHOTO/Shutterstock)

And if you leave, his buddies have a free hand to pull you over and harass you with no consequences to them.

bluart106:

Two men dancing, Harlem, 1920s.
According to George Chauncey’s eponymous Gay New York, the Harlem Renaissance of the ’20s provided an opportunity for gay men to create their own social and cultural spaces within the burgeoning nightlife in the neighborhood. 

bluart106:

Two men dancing, Harlem, 1920s.

According to George Chauncey’s eponymous Gay New York, the Harlem Renaissance of the ’20s provided an opportunity for gay men to create their own social and cultural spaces within the burgeoning nightlife in the neighborhood. 

(Source: howpeoplelived)

not-homophobic-but:

These tweets from @OfRedAndBlue are very important.

“An estimated 63 percent of young men between the ages of 11 and 20 who are imprisoned for homicide have killed their mothers’ batterers.”
Kimberle Crenshaw, in her article Intersectionality and Identity Politics: Learning from Violence Against Women of Color. (via supreme-shieldmaiden)

(Source: conjecturesandconversations)

Margaery Tyrell + tumblr text posts

(Source: kpfun)

guardian:

Ninety-year-old gay couple marries in Iowa after 72 years together
"This is a celebration of something that should have happened a very long time ago". Full story »
Photo: Thomas Geyer/AP

guardian:

Ninety-year-old gay couple marries in Iowa after 72 years together

"This is a celebration of something that should have happened a very long time ago". Full story »

Photo: Thomas Geyer/AP

(Source: theguardian.com)

“Wal-Mart earned $27 billion in profit last year. They could afford to pay their bottom million workers $10,000 more a year, raise all of those people out of poverty, cost — save taxpayers billions of dollars, and still earn $17 billion in profit, right? It’s simply nuts that we have allowed this to happen. […] You know, this ridiculous idea that a worker on Wall Street who earns tens of millions of dollars a year securitizing imaginary assets or doing high-frequency trading is worth 1,000 times as much as workers who earn tens of thousands of dollars a year educating our children, growing or serving us our food, throwing themselves into harm’s away to protect our life or property, that this difference reflects the true value or intrinsic worth of these jobs is nonsense.”

iangalager:

bloodpactgirlscout:

iangalager:

a list of things remus lupin is good at:

  • finding people to purchase pot from
  • falling asleep with little or no warning, sometimes in the middle of class or conversations
  • never brushing his hair
  • smacking people in the face with his elbows when he’s excited about a story he’s telling
  • making bacon sandwiches
  • wearing mismatched socks
  • remembering in which old book he can find very obscure spells or pieces of information
  • giving head
  • making terrible puns and cackling at them even when nobody else in the entire world thinks they’re funny
  • winning arguments when he’s stoned
  • being emotionally masochistic and overdramatic inside his head but never telling anyone else about his problems
  • not holding children even when asked to pick them up
  • making lists that he throws away ten minutes later

image

image

ur headcanon about children confused me but also gave me this mental image which is 100% canon.

I JUST SCREAMED OH MYOGGDO WHAT AN ABSOLUTELY PERFECT REMUS LUPIN YOU DREW

shanology:

tharrow:

bluandorange:

I am all about Bucky thinking that Captain America is a goddamn joke

and that it’s an even funnier joke when he finds out Cap is Steve

Because he knows Steve SO WELL he knows ALL THE WAYS he at once fits the persona perfectly and all the ways he doesn’t fit it at all. Steve…

 #somebody calls steve ‘mature and responsible’ #steve looks all modest and goes ‘well thank y—’ #'you're KIDDING right' bucky interrupts #'he used to pick fights with guys three—no FOUR times his size #kept trying to join the army so he could what? shoot a few bullets before a fly landed on him and took him out for good? #then some guy whispered ‘psst you want us to make you bigger? we think it might work this time’ to him from a dark alley #and steve said ‘yeah okay’ and by some miracle it didn’t kill or deform him #so then he spent some time skipping around bopping nazis on the head #which yeah sure okay #but then I was gone maybe SIX MINUTES before he decided it would be fun to grab a plane and play chicken with an ocean #so that knocks him out for a while but when he wakes up does he decide to take it easy for a while?#maybe stop trying to give the people around him as many HAPS—that’s heart attacks per second—as possible?’ #'bucky—'#'shut up steve #the answer is no #no he does not #he starts fighting aliens #ALIENS I tell you #and after he gets knocked around by THEM things taper off for a while #only eight maybe nine unnecessary life-threatening stunts a week #until he decides it’s time to shake things up and takes on a vast government agency full of traitorous trained killers because why not? #oh but he gets help #two people #you know to even up the odds #and—’ #'BUCKY' #'shut up steve I'm telling her how mature and responsible you are' #'I'm sorry I forgot my parachute yesterday could you please just let it go' #'WE WERE FLYING OVER A DESERT DID YOU THINK YOU COULD DIVE INTO SAND JUST AS EASY AS WATER'#'I'm not used to putting chutes on! it was an honest mistake! I'm sorry ma'am here's your autograph we'll just go now c'mon buck'

(via sunshineandsuperheroes)

*SKIPPING AROUND BOPPING NAZIS ON THE HEAD*

dying. just dying.

image

dogofulthar:

Okay I’ve been sitting on this bit of Harry Potter meta for a while now

So, Snape is a dickface and Dumbledore isn’t perfect; most of us have come to terms with these facts.

But Snape is kinda interesting - though not, to me, for the tortured-love-related reasons some people find him interesting.

What interests me is why he was allowed to teach at Hogwarts for so long, given that literally everyone could see that he was an abusive asshole who should not be allowed near children.

The reason, which I think is explicitly stated somewhere in the books, is that Dumbledore wants him somewhere he can keep an eye on him, and that’s a decent reason; Snape is an extremely valuable asset in the fight against the Death Eaters, and not an entirely trustworthy one.

But I think there’s more to it than that.  I think that Snape may be the only man that Dumbledore ever feared.

The moral of the entire series is a fairly simple one - love will put things right.  With enough love in enough places, everything will be okay.  Voldemort loved no one, was unable to love, and that caused him to be evil.  It’s very straightforward.

Snape doesn’t fit.  He loved Lily Evans—deeply, truly—and that love only made him more malicious and cruel.  As such, Dumbledore has no idea what to make of him.  His whole philosophy—and the whole philosophy of the books—is predicated on love being selfless, forgiving.  He doesn’t understand.  As such, he can work with Snape, can find some common ground, can occasionally manipulate him, but he can never trust him, because he can’t comprehend what motivates him, so he’ll never be able to predict his actions.

This, I think, is an underaddressed dichotomy, both in the books themselves and in the fandom.  The books set up an opposition between Dumbledore’s allies and Voldemort’s, a war between unconditional love and not-love.  But there is a third side, represented by a few wild cards, most notably, Snape.  Conditional love, love for a select few, love that can coexist with hate.  Snape, the Malfoys, the Dursleys, Grindlewald, Kreacher, even fucking Aragog probably are all examples of this.  Heck, teenage James Potter might even qualify.

All of them (except Aragog) all, at first glance, seem to support Dumbledore’s belief that love will put things right.  But just because they eventually come out on the side of good (except Aragog), it doesn’t negate years of cruelty and abuse—cruelty and abuse  motivated by the same love that eventually led them to change their ways, but which supported hatred because it was bound up in jealousy and feelings of betrayal.

Snape and similar characters undermine the whole philosophy of the narrative, because they show that love does not necessarily correlate with niceness.  Dumbledore, a walking font of The Philosophy of the Narrative, is freaked the fuck out by this, and, tl;dr, this is why Snape is allowed to hang around Hogwarts being a dick to children.

10 Lies Depression Tells You | Anne Thériault

usakeh:

1. You are a bad person who deserves bad things.

2. You are unhappy because you are lazy or lacking in willpower. Happiness is a choice, a choice that you have failed to make. Somehow, somewhere over the course of your lifetime, when faced with some metaphysical fork in the road, you chose the wrong path. You brought this curse down on yourself.

3. Your sadness is the baseline by which the rest of your life should be measured. This sadness is your norm, and any other emotions, especially positive ones, are exceptions to the rule. Yes of course there will be good times, of course there will be flashes of joy; you will certainly, on occasion, experience the pleasure of a good book or a ripe juicy peach, However, those experiences will be few and far between. Your bad days will always outnumber the good.

4. Your family and friends do not love you. Your family are people who feel obligated to spend time with you because as luck would have it you share a similar genetic makeup. Your friends are people that you somehow tricked into thinking that you, as a person, have some kind of value, and now they don’t know how to extricate themselves from your pathetic, needy grasp. No one spends time with you because they enjoy it; they do it out of a sense of duty, a feeling of pity. Whenever you leave a room everyone breathes a sigh of relief.

5. Your family and friends do not want to hear about how sad you are. No matter how sympathetic they may seem, no matter how sincerely they might ask how you are feeling, remember that it’s all an act. The more that you open yourself up to them, the more you pour your heart out, the more resentful of you they become. Do not fall into the trap of sharing your feelings; do not give into the temptation to draw back the curtain and, like a tawdry magician, reveal your grotesque sadness. Your sadness is a choice, remember? This burden is yours to bear alone.

6. Your friends and family deserve better than you. Everyone deserves better than you.

7. In order to make up for your unhappiness, it is your responsibility to make sure that everyone around you is happy. If you can manage to maintain a near-constant veneer of kindness, helpfulness and sincere interest in others, then that will make your presence more tolerable. Your amiability, though entirely inadequate, is the best apology that you can make for your existence.

8. Everything is your fault.

If you plan a picnic and it rains, it’s your fault. You should have been more thorough when you checked the weather. You should have learned to be an amateur meteorologist so that you could better read the clouds. You should have packed a canopy. If you go out for dinner, for your once-in-a-blue-moon, hire-a-babysitter-and-wear-a-nice-dress date and the food or service or conversation is anything less than exceptional, it’s your fault. You should have read more restaurant reviews, should have asked friends for more recommendations, should have prepared cue cards with talking points. If someone is unkind to you, it’s your fault. You should have smiled more, been more gracious, tried harder to be whatever it was that they needed in that moment.

Everything is your fault.

9. There is no cure for your sadness, no effective treatment, no way of managing your symptoms. There are, of course, doctors and pills and various therapies that help other people, but you’ve tried all these things and they don’t work for you. Nothing will ever work for you.

10. You will feel this way forever.

If you are depressed, experiencing suicidal thoughts or otherwise need someone to talk to, please call 1-800-273-8255.

Source.

This article hits so close to home with me, right now.

notbecauseofvictories:

image

[made rebloggable by request]

no but like

there’s a seraph who sleeps in the pews of the city’s churches because it’s the only place she feels comfortable stretching out her wings, feathers nearly blocking out the stained glass windows. At night, the prayers embedded in the stonework whisper to her, a litany of please and help and need, as inexorable and unceasing as the rattle of the subway beneath her.

and there’s an angel of the third sphere who plays pickup basketball with a young prophet—a young man who walks through metal detectors each morning to get to a high school where only fifty percent will graduate, but loves calculus and singing in church every Sunday. “Your jump shot’s insane, man,” the saint-to-be laughs, clapping the angel on the back, right between the wings. And the angel, who can see how the light catches on the young man’s halo, laughs too.

and there are ophanim sitting on the girders of half-built skyscrapers, unafraid of falling; passing sandwiches and thermoses of campbell’s soup between them, speaking in tongues about the traffic on I-90 and last night’s Bears game.

and Israfel sneaks away from celestial choir practice to attend concerts in the park, but he usually ends up absently sketching equations modeling the wavelengths into the grass. There’s an adjunct mathematics professor who sometimes attends, and afterwards they discuss hyperharmonic series in the gathering dusk.

angels in the public libraries, reading children’s books and touching the illustrations with just their fingertips, like beholding a sacred text.

angels moving along the cracks in the pavement and between the alleyways; going without fear into the worst neighborhoods, because they have walked in the valley of death and fear no evil—not even the mastery of it that humanity demonstrates through abject poverty, ignorance, social immobility.

angels glaring at potholes  and rolling their eyes at delays (the work of the Deceiver, no doubt) and running to catch a subway that goes not even a hairsbreadth of the speed their wings could carry them.

angels looking up at the statues made in their image, grey forms on grey pedestals with granite wings, and snickering to themselves. (The artist missed a few hundred eyes, they think; mouths and limbs and grace and song and fire and flight—)

but then they gaze up at the brutalist skyscrapers with windows reflecting the flame-colored sunset and low-hanging exhaust, spindly radio towers forming a winking blue halo if you crane your neck just so. And the angels think maybe the humans caught a glimpse of the divine after all.

~*~urban angels~*~