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As much as I a hundred percent think that Zed being played by a white guy was a terrible call (even though I love Milo Manheim) I’m very glad it happened.

I know Disney didn’t do it on purpose. They just don’t know that POC men exist outside of shows created specifically about black characters. But also, I personally think it was a good call because there is no way the things Zed went through would’ve been okay to see done to a POC.

Like honestly, it took me almost a year to even realize how messed up some of that stuff was.

The absolute biggest thing for me is when Bucky intentionally darkens Zed’s pictures to make people afraid of him (Like the paparazzi was doing to OJ Simpson’s mug shots???)

Or when Zed intentionally lightens his own skin to be more appealing. That was a very straightforward and easy metaphor to get, but still.

Yes the metaphors of racism do get lost (a LOT) because Zed is very very white. But also, if I had seen them do that to a POC, I would’ve raised all holy hell. I feel like, the way they went about it was good slightly, because they could do all these things without the repercussions of actually doing them.

So in a weird way, I think I prefer Zed being white because it’s a subtle way to show racism (metaphorically) and especially colorism (I think?) in Z2, that won’t actively get them in hot water.

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thinking abt the time i found a song from simcity 3000, a game i have never played, apparently downloaded onto my phone during march of last year even though i was extremely sick and bedridden during that time and i definitely did not download anything onto my phone. it haunts me.

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it just hit me that “i’d meet you where the spirit meets the bones” in ivy might mean that the narrator and her forbidden love will meet again in another life, when they’ll finally be together and now i’m internally screaming like i never did before

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sometimes i write songs at night.

i wake up and they’ve gone,

blasted into the wind

for strangers to hear them

in their dreams.

and they wonder

what do you mean,

most subtle of birdsongs?

oh friend, it’s me,

just a sad little girl

singing to the streets.

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a ship name for me and lune is very much necessary so … im thinking … lura … or … seongra. Or. zumin …

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also i was writing a scene where michonne was helping carol pick out a sexy outfit except it was impossible bc there is no such thing as a sexy outfit in 1966

i mean, look at this shit


the best writer in the world couldn’t create suspension of disbelief strong enough to make this not abhorrent


here’s hoping to having the chapter done this weekend, like, please god let me have that

none of this important

k bye

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yeah not to be overthinking things but im pretty sure the reason Kisara’s white dragon has “power that rivals the gods” is because uhhh it isnt actually a Ka and Blue Eyes White Dragon was probably a god that created itself a mortal vessel

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*puts thing down and does something else*

*goes to pick thing up again but it’s not where I thought it was* o h n o

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how dare you ask for something that is so me?

Ryan can feel it already, the shifting starting under his skin. The calendar says the full moon will rise on Friday, but the pull of it has already begun, hooking like pins behind Ryan’s navel and dragging his eyes up off his computer monitor and towards the big windows to look at the sky. Ryan forces himself back to looking at the screen in front of him and resettles in his chair. The chair creaks, and Shane looks up. Ryan ducks his head to avoid Shane’s shrewd gaze. 

Shane knows. He has since that long haul trip to Ohio early on the BFU days. Ryan had always prided himself on being so very careful, so very cautious, so very aware of making sure not to schedule filming trips during the weekend when the moon would rise, full and fat, and drive him into the nearest woods and turn him into a rippling mass of fur and teeth and claws. Except, that filming trip had been rescheduled three times already by the time they were finally able to go, and there’d been nothing Ryan could do. It’s awfully hard to keep something like not exactly being entirely human under wraps living in each other’s pockets like they do on the road. 

So. Shane knows. He’s never really asked any questions, and seems content to let Ryan never have any kind of conversation about it. Ryan has noticed, however, that Shane has always been very good about not scheduling anything the weekend Ryan isn’t available. 

Ryan sighs, and tries to rein his focus back towards the video he’s editing. It works, more or less. 

Later, Shane corners him near the fridge along the back wall of the office.

“You’re fidgety,” Shane observes, not looking up from the coffee he’s doctoring to his particularly preferred shade of caramel.

Ryan drops the spoon he’s holding and it clatters to the floor. Shane still doesn’t look at him, but Ryan can feel the flush crawling up the back of his neck as he bends down to retrieve the spoon, gripping it tightly in his fist. He watches Shane look up at the calendar tacked onto the whiteboard over the sink, and nod to himself. 

“It’s this weekend, isn’t it?” 

Keep reading

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slightly odd convo with my mum in which she complained about her uni assignments and i read out some gay bits from the bible 

from my new book about queer writing from history - it’s got a couple bits from Samuel in it, after Homer and Sappho - and then jumps straight from Catullus (1st century bc Roman) to Shakespeare, which is a very annoying gap of about 1600 years - especially when I’ve read queer poetry from at least the 1200s, like :/

Maybe one day they’ll put out a second edition or smth, but I understand how things can be hard to find an stuff

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