ink-splotch:

There comes a point where Susan, who was the older girl, is lost to Narnia because she becomes interested in lipstick. She’s become irreligious basically because she found sex. I have a big problem with that.” - JK Rowling

Can we talk about Susan’s fabulous adventures after Narnia? The ones where she wears nylons and elegant blouses when she wants to, and short skirts and bright lipstick when she wants to, and hiking boots and tough jeans and big men’s plaid shirts when she feels like backpacking out into the mountains and remembering what it was to be lost in a world full of terrific beauty— I know her siblings say she stops talking about it, that Susan walks away from the memories of Narnia, but I don’t think she ever really forgot.

I want to read about Susan finishing out boarding school as a grown queen reigning from a teenaged girl’s body. School bullies and peer pressure from children and teachers who treat you like you’re less than sentient wouldn’t have the same impact. C’mon, Susan of the Horn, Susan who bested the DLF at archery, and rode a lion, and won wars, sitting in a school uniform with her eyebrows rising higher and higher as some old goon at the front of the room slams his fist on the lectern. 

Susan living through WW2, huddling with her siblings, a young adult (again), a fighting queen and champion marksman kept from the action, until she finally storms out against screaming parents’ wishes and volunteers as a nurse on the front. She keeps a knife or two hidden under her clothes because when it comes down to it, they called her Gentle, but sometimes loving means fighting for what you care for. 

She’ll apply to a women’s college on the East Coast, because she fell in love with America when her parents took her there before the war. She goes in majoring in Literature (her ability to decipher High Diction in historical texts is uncanny), but checks out every book she can on history, philosophy, political science. She sneaks into the boys’ school across town and borrows their books too. She was once responsible for a kingdom, roads and taxes and widows and crops and war. She grew from child to woman with that mantle of duty wrapped around her shoulders. Now, tossed here on this mundane land, forever forbidden from her true kingdom, Susan finds that she can give up Narnia but she cannot give up that responsibility. She looks around and thinks I could do this better.

I want Susan sneaking out to drink at pubs with the girls, her friends giggling at the boys checking them out from across the way, until Susan walks over (with her nylons, with her lipstick, with her sovereignty written out in whatever language she damn well pleases) and beats them all at pool. Susan studying for tests and bemoaning Aristotle and trading a boy with freckles all over his nose shooting lessons so that he will teach her calculus. Susan kissing boys and writing home to Lucy and kissing girls and helping smuggle birth control to the ladies in her dorm because Susan Pevensie is a queen and she understands the right of a woman to rule over her own body. 

Susan losing them all to a train crash, Edmund and Peter and Lucy, Jill and Eustace, and Lucy and Lucy and Lucy, who Susan’s always felt the most responsible for. Because this is a girl who breathes responsibility, the little mother to her three siblings until a wardrobe whisked them away and she became High Queen to a whole land, ruled it for more than a decade, then came back centuries later as a legend. What it must do to you, to be a legend in the body of a young girl, to have that weight on your shoulders and have a lion tell you that you have to let it go. What is must do to you, to be left alone to decide whether to bury your family in separate ceremonies, or all at once, the same way they died, all at once and without you. What it must do to you, to stand there in black, with your nylons, and your lipstick, and feel responsible for these people who you will never be able to explain yourself to and who you can never save. 

Maybe she dreams sometimes they made it back to Narnia after all. Peter is a king again. Lucy walks with Aslan and all the dryads dance. Maybe Susan dreams that she went with them— the train jerks, a bright light, a roar calling you home. 

Maybe she doesn’t. 

Susan grows older and grows up. Sometimes she hears Lucy’s horrified voice in her head, “Nylons? Lipstick, Susan? Who wants to grow up?”  and Susan thinks, “Well you never did, Luce.” Susan finishes her degree, stays in America (England looks too much like Narnia, too much like her siblings, and too little, all at once). She starts writing for the local paper under the pseudonym Frank Tumnus, because she wants to write about politics and social policy and be listened to, because the name would have made Edmund laugh. 

She writes as Susan Pevensie, too, about nylons and lipstick, how to give a winning smiles and throw parties, because she knows there is a kind of power there and she respects it. She won wars with war sometimes, in Narnia, but sometimes she stopped them before they began.

Peter had always looked disapprovingly on the care with which Susan applied her makeup back home in England, called it vanity. And even then, Susan would smile at him, say “I use what weapons I have at hand,” and not explain any more than that. The boy ruled at her side for more than a decade. He should know better. 

Vain is not the proper word. This is about power. But maybe Peter wouldn’t have liked the word “ambition” any more than “vanity.”

Susan is a young woman in the 50s and 60s. Frank Tumnus has quite the following now. He’s written a few books, controversial, incendiary. Susan gets wrapped up in the civil rights movement, because of course she would. It’s not her first war. All the same, she almost misses the White Witch. Greed is a cleaner villain than senseless hate. She gets on the Freedom Rider bus, mails Mr. Tumnus articles back home whenever there’s a chance, those rare occasions they’re not locked up or immediately threatened. She is older now than she ever was in Narnia. Susan dreams about Telemarines killing fauns. 

Time rolls on. Maybe she falls in love with a young activist or an old cynic. Maybe she doesn’t. Maybe Frank Tumnus, controversial in the moment, brilliant in retrospect, gets offered an honorary title from a prestigious university. She declines and publishes an editorial revealing her identity. Her paper fires her. Three others mail her job offers. 

When Vietnam rolls around, she protests in the streets. Susan understands the costs of war. She has lived through not just the brutal wars of one life, but two. 

Maybe she has children now. Maybe she tells them stories about a magical place and a magical lion, the stories Lucy and Edmund brought home about how if you sail long enough you reach the place where the seas fall off the edge of the world. But maybe she tells them about Cinderella instead, Sleeping Beauty, Rapunzel, except Rapunzel cuts off her own hair and uses it to climb down the tower and escape. The damsel uses what tools she has at hand. 

A lion told her to walk away, and she did. He forbade her magic, he forbade her her own kingdom, so she made her own. 

Susan Pevensie did not lose faith. She found it. 

korranation:

aer-dna:

If you’re excited bc of Korra’s new hairstyle but also really emotionally conflicted bc no pigtails clap your hands.

korranation:

aer-dna:

If you’re excited bc of Korra’s new hairstyle but also really emotionally conflicted bc no pigtails clap your hands.

image

behindinfinity:

Goodnight, Night Vale. Goodnight.
When I hear him say this, despite everything, I feel like everything is going to be okay.
Here’s the first of many WtNV illustrations I’m working on. It’s been so very inspiring!
My tag for WtNV things: [✖]

behindinfinity:

Goodnight, Night Vale. Goodnight.

When I hear him say this, despite everything, I feel like everything is going to be okay.

Here’s the first of many WtNV illustrations I’m working on. It’s been so very inspiring!

My tag for WtNV things: []

shakesqueered:

jcatgrl:

screamingcrawfish:

elfpen:

jackthevulture:

kimmity:

roachpatrol:

steampunktendencies:

What is your Steampunk Name ?

chief inspector prudence knightchild

professor adelaide addlehold

Duke/Duchess Ambrose/Violet Worthingwood (for Jack and Crystal lol)
Violet is an awesome name tho. There arent enough people with the name Violet.

Captain Henrietta Worthingwaddle
Awww yuuussss

duke victor addleton, nice

lady fanny wakewood.
…that sounds oddly suggestive.

captain henrietta worthingtopper

Baroness Ursula Rumblehold

shakesqueered:

jcatgrl:

screamingcrawfish:

elfpen:

jackthevulture:

kimmity:

roachpatrol:

steampunktendencies:

What is your Steampunk Name ?

chief inspector prudence knightchild

professor adelaide addlehold

Duke/Duchess Ambrose/Violet Worthingwood (for Jack and Crystal lol)

Violet is an awesome name tho. There arent enough people with the name Violet.

Captain Henrietta Worthingwaddle

Awww yuuussss

duke victor addleton, nice

lady fanny wakewood.

…that sounds oddly suggestive.

captain henrietta worthingtopper

Baroness Ursula Rumblehold

rosalarian:

carinabn:

Mermaid ring!

Dear future wife: this is what you give to me when it’s wedding times.

rosalarian:

carinabn:

Mermaid ring!

Dear future wife: this is what you give to me when it’s wedding times.

staff:

Today’s the day. The day you help save the internet from being ruined.

Ready? 

Yes, you are, and we’re ready to help you.

(Long story short: The FCC is about to make a critical decision as to whether or not internet service providers have to treat all traffic equally. If they choose wrong, then the internet where anyone could start a website for any reason at all, the internet that’s been so momentous, funny, weird, and surprising—that internet could cease to exist. Here’s your chance to preserve a beautiful thing.)

bluerobotto:

My first giveaway on tumblr *c*

You can win one messenger bag from the ones available in BlueRobotto’s shop (Check out the shop for more pics and the description of each bag)

PRIZE:

1 person will be randomly selected as winner from the notes in this post.  The winner will chose 1 bag from the ones available and it will be sent to them without charge.

If this post gets more than 500 notes 2 winners will be chosen.

If this post gets more than 1000 notes 3 winners will be chosen.

How to participate:

  • You don’t have to follow BlueRobotto.
  • Reblog this post to participate, only 1 reblog to prevent spam.
  • Likes count too.
  • If you win I should be able to contact you through your tumblr.

Things to consider:

  • Shipping to anywhere in the world, BlueRobotto will cover the shipping expenses.
  • Any question feel free to send a messege :)

The givaway will end on saturday september 20th, at 10:00 PM Central America time.

Good luck to everyone who participates :D

You can also contact BlueRobotto on twitter @bluerobotto if you want to ask anything.

aquaforia:

sciencetoastudent:

spacecadetbird:

valleyfair:

now there’s actual solid evidence that dicovery’s shark week is as garbage as I always thought it was

#STOP DOING THAT#STOP LYING AND ACTUALLY PUT UP ACTUAL FUCKING DOCUMENTARIES#GIVE ME ACTUAL KNOWLEDGE ABOUT MISUNDERSTOOD CREATURES OF THE DEEP#GODDAMN

This is an incredibly important video.  Please watch it, everyone! 

And people wonder why I do not like “Shark Week.”  Well, here’s your answer.

So true, I used to like this channel and Animal Planet. Get back to your roots guys, you don’t need to be shitty like other channels.

tashaturtletwentytwo:

stagdogwolfandrat:





AU where Harry is brought up by Sirius and Remus.


Harry swaggering into Hogwarts at age 11.Harry trying to lean back in his chair like he’d seen Sirius do.Harry knowing all the secret passage ways in his very first year itself.Harry knowing the perfect hexes for Malfoy.Harry pretending to be really embarrassed by Remus teaching them in 3rd year, but secretly feeling delighted when he finds the rest of his class thinks he’s the coolest teacher they’ve had.Harry getting howlers from Sirius announcing the next Weird Sisters concert.Harry fiercely defending werewolves.And most importantly, Harry who is happy and loved. Harry who has someone to go home to. Harry who has someone to talk about his teenage woes to. Harry who grew up knowing what wonderful, brave people his parents were.






#can u imagine sirius sending all his letters as howlers#’HELLO HARRY WE MISS YOU A LOT YOU ANNOYING BRAT#THERE’S THIS WEIRD SISTERS CONCERT DURING WINTER BREAK AND WE’VE BOUGHT YOU A TICKET NO OBJECTIONS#LOTS OF LOVE FROM YOUR FAVOURITE GODFATHER#AND I GUESS FROM REMUS TOO’ (via amnesiacbutterfly)

tashaturtletwentytwo:

stagdogwolfandrat:

AU where Harry is brought up by Sirius and Remus.

Harry swaggering into Hogwarts at age 11.
Harry trying to lean back in his chair like he’d seen Sirius do.
Harry knowing all the secret passage ways in his very first year itself.
Harry knowing the perfect hexes for Malfoy.
Harry pretending to be really embarrassed by Remus teaching them in 3rd year, but secretly feeling delighted when he finds the rest of his class thinks he’s the coolest teacher they’ve had.
Harry getting howlers from Sirius announcing the next Weird Sisters concert.
Harry fiercely defending werewolves.
And most importantly, Harry who is happy and loved. Harry who has someone to go home to. Harry who has someone to talk about his teenage woes to. Harry who grew up knowing what wonderful, brave people his parents were.

teacupwarrior:

Imagine that at the end of Dumbledore’s speech at the beginning of the year, he asks if there are any questions, and one first year muggleborn kid raises his hand, whips out a smart phone and asks for the wifi password.

And then Dumbledore just casually says “Sherbet lemon, with a capital S”, and commences the feast like it’s no big deal while the non-muggleborns think WIFI is some sort of secret society.