THE SCHOOL OF ONE THOUSAND NAMES:In addition to the five static schools of witchcraft and wizardry on the North American continent, there is another school which has catered to students for thousands of years. It has no name and no location: some years the patchwork band of longhouses, teepees, and kivas appears in the Pacific Northwest; other years it sits on the tear-stained earth of Oklahoma; some years it resides in Canada or the upper reaches of Alaska (a bit of a challenge for students from arid desert regions). The teachers come from the Salish, the Cherokee, the Navajo, the Iroquois, the Chippewa, and hundreds of other indigenous tribes. Rather than separate into houses, the students maintain their tribal ties: there’s no small amount of friction between different nations with historic feuds. The school has a legendary reputation for record-keeping and cultural preservation; students are also at the forefront of magical innovation, constantly searching for new answers to age-old questions (such as magic use in major urban areas). Wandless magic is common, but even more common is the process of creating one’s own wand: an elaborate ceremony that varies depending on tribal origin. It is considered a great privilege to collect a wand core from a mythical beast.Every summer there are huge celebrations combining dance and magic: families travel from all over the world to join their children at the school.
You’re all just pawns in her little game
Bryan Stevenson on The Daily Show.
SPEAK. THIS. TRUTH
We never say that all men deserve to feel beautiful. We never say that each man is beautiful in his own way. We don’t have huge campaigns aimed at young boys trying to convince them that they’re attractive, probably because we very rarely correlate a man’s worth with his appearance. The problem is that a woman’s value in this world is still very much attached to her appearance, and telling her that she should or deserves to feel beautiful does more to promote that than negate it. Telling women that they “deserve” to feel pretty plays right in to the idea that prettiness should be important to them. And having books and movies aimed at young women where every female protagonist turns out to be beautiful (whereas many of the antagonists are described in much less flattering terms) reinforces the message that beauty has some kind of morality attached to it, and that all heroines are somehow pretty.
For Skyler Press ♥
Thank you so much for taking part in my auction for The Tyler Hoechlin Birthday Charity Project. In fact, my thanks go to all of you - to everyone who contributed and to the organizers. It’s wonderful how our fandom can come together to make great things possible.
Thank you for the prompt too - it was sweet and sexy and I hope I could make you proud.
There’s a small surprise for you too - a friend of mine wrote something to go with this piece and I really hope you’ll like it as much as I did ;)
Oh my god guys, I am actually doing this. I can’t believe it. Please, please, please signal boost the shit outta this. I have been homeless on the streets and couch-surfing for the past 4 years, since I was 18yrs old and my parents choose religion over their child. This is my fucking ticket to freedom, something I have been dreaming of since the first time I attempted to run away from the abuse.
I have poured every last ounce of hope I’ve got left in my reserves for this. I haven’t looked forward to something more than a month in the future in years. I never envisioned myself living past 25, but my god in this moment I hope I can live past 50. I just… fuck. I’m so excited. :3
Anonymous said: Oh my gosh, Stiles following Derek around whenever he's sad. That is so fucking adorable what the fuck. I need someone to write this please oh my god
Derek comes home to a quiet house. The lights are off, the television’s silent, and there’s no take out boxes on the table, no loud greeting or big hands flying to catch his face for Stiles to kiss him hello.
He’s just a little concerned.
There’s a grumble from the couch, and Derek kicks off his shoes, pads into the living room to where there’s a full on nest of blankets and pillows.
"Did you relocate our bed?"
"Shit day," Stiles murmurs, toes sticking out over the couch arm. Derek squeezes his foot as he passes, tosses off his jacket and drops down to the floor.
Stiles peeks out from under a blanket, gives him a doleful smile, “Hi.”
"Hey," Derek runs his fingers through Stiles’ hair, and Stiles’ eyes flutter shut as he sighs, reaches out to grab Derek’s wrist.
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