Just another 21 year old's multi-fandom blog...

Reblogged from snarkysweetness  146,451 notes







Steve Rogers did, in fact, realize that something was off when he saw the outline of the woman’s odd bra (a push-up bra, he would later learn), but being an officer and a gentleman, he said that it was the game that gave the future away.


No, see, this scene is just amazing. The costume department deserves so many kudos for this, it’s unreal, especially given the fact that they pulled off Peggy pretty much flawlessly.

1) Her hair is completely wrong for the 40’s. No professional/working woman  would have her hair loose like that. Since they’re trying to pass this off as a military hospital, Steve would know that she would at least have her hair carefully pulled back, if maybe not in the elaborate coiffures that would have been popular.

2) Her tie? Too wide, too long. That’s a man’s tie, not a woman’s. They did, however, get the knot correct as far as I can see - that looks like a Windsor.

3) That. Bra. There is so much clashing between that bra and what Steve would expect (remember, he worked with a bunch of women for a long time) that it has to be intentional. She’s wearing a foam cup, which would have been unheard of back then. It’s also an exceptionally old or ill-fitting bra - why else can you see the tops of the cups? No woman would have been caught dead with misbehaving lingerie like that back then, and the soft satin cups of 40’s lingerie made it nearly impossible anyway. Her breasts are also sitting at a much lower angle than would be acceptable in the 40’s.

Look at his eyes. He knows by the time he gets to her hair that something is very, very wrong.

so what you are saying is S.H.E.I.L.D. has a super shitty costume division….

Nope, Nick Fury totally did this on purpose.

There’s no knowing what kind of condition Steve’s in, or what kind of person he really is, after decades of nostalgia blur the reality and the long years in the ice (after a plane crash and a shitload of radiation) do their work. (Pre-crash Steve is in lots of files, I’m sure. Nick Fury does not trust files.) So Fury instructs his people to build a stage, and makes sure that the right people put up some of the wrong cues.

Maybe the real Steve’s a dick, or just an above-average jock; maybe he had a knack for hanging out with real talent. Maybe he hit his head too hard on the landing and he’s not gonna be Captain anymore. On the flipside, if he really is smart, then putting him in a standard, modern hospital room and telling him the truth is going to have him clamming up and refusing to believe a goddamn thing he hears for a really long time.

The real question here is, how long it does it take for the man, the myth, the legend to notice? What does he do about it? How long does he wait to get his bearings, confirm his suspicions, and gather information before attempting busting out?

Turns out the answer’s about forty-five seconds.

Sometimes clever posts die a quiet death in the abyss of the unreblogged. Some clever posts get attention, get comments, get better. Then there’s this one which I’ve watched evolve into a thing of brilliance.

Reblogged from asterismjess  3,833 notes

Please understand that I can’t spend all of my energy trying to get well. With a short-term illness like the flu, you can afford to put life on hold for a week or two while you get well. But part of having a chronic illness is coming to the realization that you have to spend some energy on having a life now. This doesn’t mean I’m not trying to get better. It doesn’t mean I’ve given up. It’s just how life is when you’re dealing with a chronic illness. By

An Open Letter To Those Without An Invisible Disability Or Chronic Illness


This is excellent. I wish people would understand that I am not my disease, but it does live with me as a permanent resident, so I have to acknowledge its existence and make appropriate accommodations. 

(via brighid45)

Reblogged from asterismjess  70,346 notes




it’s so funny to me how everyone on tumblr accepts each other’s sexual preferences, race, gender etc, but the second someone is like “i don’t really like that character” all hell breaks loose and you are fucking done

No one cares that I’m pansexual. No one cares that I’m a pagan. No one cares that I’m pro-choice. No one cares that I cut.

But heaven help me if I express my complete and utter loathing of Rose bloody Tyler.


Reblogged from asterismjess  15,552 notes

May I have your attention please


  1. Holding down a job is not a measure of value.
  2. Attending school is not a measure of value.
  3. Whether or not you can “contribute” to society is not a measure of whether or not your life is valuable and worth preserving.

These are standards held up by a society which values money and production over everything else. If you think life has any less value or worth because of an inability to do any of the above you’re fucking wrong.

That’s all.


Reblogged from asterismjess  192,587 notes

Being born a woman is an awful tragedy… Yes, my consuming desire to mingle with road crews, sailors and soldiers, bar room regulars - to be a part of a scene, anonymous, listening, recording - all is spoiled by the fact that I am a girl, a female always in danger of assault and battery. My consuming interest in men and their lives is often misconstrued as a desire to seduce them, or as an invitation to intimacy. Yet, God, I want to talk to everybody I can as deeply as I can. I want to be able to sleep in an open field, to travel west, to walk freely at night… By Sylvia Plath, on rape culture, etc. (via endthymes)

Reblogged from asterismjess  6,529 notes

The only people that can afford to take an unpaid job are those that are already well-off enough to survive without pay. That means that there are careers where the only way to effectively break in to the industry is to be well-off in the first place.

This is a major problem in many industries, including film, advertising, fashion, music, and others. If your parents can pay for an apartment in Manhattan, congratulations, you can get your foot in the door. If not, tough luck, go find another job more suited to your lower-class life.



Welcome to my life. Hoping that eventually I’ll have enough money saved to get somewhere but considering the living costs at the moment I’ll probably end up back at home completely broke however much I save. I just want to do something, anything at all, which involves printing as I miss it.

(via nothingbutthedreams)