The dream chooses the dreamer, not the other way around—and Lazlo Strange, war orphan and junior librarian, has always feared that his dream chose poorly. Since he was five years old he’s been obsessed with the mythic lost city of Weep, but it would take someone bolder than he to cross half the world in search of it. Then a stunning opportunity presents itself, in the person of a hero called the Godslayer and a band of legendary warriors, and he has to seize his chance or lose his dream forever.
What happened in Weep two hundred years ago to cut it off from the rest of the world? What exactly did the Godslayer slay that went by the name of god? And what is the mysterious problem he now seeks help in solving?
The circus arrives without warning. No announcements precede it, no paper notices plastered on lampposts and billboards. It is simply there, when yesterday it was not. Within these nocturnal black-and-white striped tents awaits an utterly unique, a feast for the senses, where one can get lost in a maze of clouds, meander through a lush garden made of ice, stare in wonderment as the tattooed contortionist folds herself into a small glass box, and become deliciously tipsy from the scents of caramel and cinnamon that waft through the air.
The Second Civil War was fought over reproductive rights. The chilling resolution: Life is inviolable from the moment of conception until age thirteen. Between the ages of thirteen and eighteen, however, parents can have their child “unwound,” whereby all of the child’s organs are transplanted into different donors, so life doesn’t technically end. Connor is too difficult for his parents to control. Risa, a ward of the state, is not enough to be kept alive. And Lev is a tithe, a child conceived and raised to be unwound. Together, they may have a chance to escape and to survive.
Sixteen-year-old Cinder is considered a technological mistake by most of society and a burden by her stepmother. Being cyborg does have its benefits, though: Cinder’s brain interference has given her an uncanny ability to fix things (robots, hovers, her own malfunctioning parts), making her the best mechanic in New Beijing. This reputation brings Prince Kai himself to her weekly market booth, needing her to repair a broken android before the annual ball. He jokingly calls it “a matter of national security,” but Cinder suspects it’s more serious than he’s letting on.
Kate Harker and August Flynn are the heirs to a divided city—a city where the violence has begun to breed actual monsters. All Kate wants is to be as ruthless as her father, who lets the monsters roam free and makes the humans pay for his protection. All August wants is to be human, as good-hearted as his own father, to play a bigger role in protecting the innocent—but he’s one of the monsters. One who can steal a soul with a simple strain of music. When the chance arises to keep an eye on Kate, who’s just been kicked out of her sixth boarding school and returned home, August jumps at it. But Kate discovers August’s secret, and after a failed assassination attempt the pair must flee for their lives.
Children can have a cruel, absolute sense of justice. Children can kill a monster and feel quite proud of themselves. A girl can look at her brother and believe they’re destined to be a knight and a bard who battle evil. She can believe she’s found the thing she’s been made for.
Hazel lives with her brother, Ben, in the strange town of Fairfold where humans and fae exist side by side. At the center of it all, there is a glass coffin in the woods. It rests right on the ground and in it sleeps a boy with horns on his head and ears as pointed as knives. Hazel and Ben were both in love with him as children. The boy has slept there for generations, never waking.
The Reds are commoners, ruled by a Silver elite in possession of god-like superpowers. And to Mare Barrow, a seventeen-year-old Red girl from the poverty-stricken Stilts, it seems like nothing will ever change. That is, until she finds herself working in the Silver Palace. Here, surrounded by the people she hates the most, Mare discovers that, despite her red blood, she possesses a deadly power of her own. One that threatens to destroy the balance of power.
In a dark and dusty shop, a devil’s supply of human teeth grows dangerously low. And in the tangled lanes of Prague, a young art student is about to be caught up in a brutal otherworldly war.
Meet Karou. She fills her sketchbooks with monsters that may or may not be real, she’s prone to disappearing on mysterious “errands”, she speaks many languages – not all of them human – and her bright blue hair actually grows out of her head that color. Who is she? That is the question that haunts her, and she’s about to find out.
The year is 2575, and two rival megacorporations are at war over a planet that’s little more than an ice-covered speck at the edge of the universe. Too bad nobody thought to warn the people living on it. With enemy fire raining down on them, Kady and Ezra—who are barely even talking to each other—are forced to fight their way onto an evacuating fleet, with an enemy warship in hot pursuit.
BRIEFING NOTE: Told through a fascinating dossier of hacked documents—including emails, schematics, military files, IMs, medical reports, interviews, and more
What was once the western United States is now home to the Republic, a nation perpetually at war with its neighbors. Born into an elite family in one of the Republic’s wealthiest districts, fifteen-year-old June is a prodigy being groomed for success in the Republic’s highest military circles. Born into the slums, fifteen-year-old Day is the country’s most wanted criminal. But his motives may not be as malicious as they seem.
From very different worlds, June and Day have no reason to cross paths—until the day June’s brother, Metias, is murdered and Day becomes the prime suspect. Caught in the ultimate game of cat and mouse, Day is in a race for his family’s survival, while June seeks to avenge Metias’s death. But in a shocking turn of events, the two uncover the truth of what has really brought them together, and the sinister lengths their country will go to keep its secrets.
It’s been six weeks since angels of the apocalypse descended to demolish the modern world. Street gangs rule the day while fear and superstition rule the night. When warrior angels fly away with a helpless little girl, her seventeen-year-old sister Penryn will do anything to get her back.
Anything, including making a deal with an enemy angel.
Scarlett Dragna has never left the tiny island where she and her sister, Tella, live with their powerful, and cruel, father. Now Scarlett’s father has arranged a marriage for her, and Scarlett thinks her dreams of seeing Caraval—the faraway, once-a-year performance where the audience participates in the show—are over.
But this year, Scarlett’s long-dreamt-of invitation finally arrives. With the help of a mysterious sailor, Tella whisks Scarlett away to the show. Only, as soon as they arrive, Tella is kidnapped by Caraval’s mastermind organizer, Legend. It turns out that this season’s Caraval revolves around Tella, and whoever finds her first is the winner.
Laia is a slave. Elias is a soldier. Neither is free.
Under the Martial Empire, defiance is met with death. Those who do not vow their blood and bodies to the Emperor risk the execution of their loved ones and the destruction of all they hold dear. It is in this brutal world, inspired by ancient Rome, that Laia lives with her grandparents and older brother. The family ekes out an existence in the Empire’s impoverished backstreets. They do not challenge the Empire. They’ve seen what happens to those who do.
When Ruby woke up on her tenth birthday, something about her had changed. Something frightening enough to make her parents lock her in the garage and call the police. Something that got her sent to Thurmond, a brutal government “rehabilitation camp.” She might have survived the mysterious disease that had killed most of America’s children, but she and the others emerged with something far worse: frightening abilities they could not control.
In a land ruled by a murderous boy-king, each dawn brings heartache to a new family. Khalid, the eighteen-year-old Caliph of Khorasan, is a monster. Each night he takes a new bride only to have a silk cord wrapped around her throat come morning. When sixteen-year-old Shahrzad’s dearest friend falls victim to Khalid, Shahrzad vows vengeance and volunteers to be his next bride. Shahrzad is determined not only to stay alive, but to end the caliph’s reign of terror once and for all.
They find a book written in Latin… one guy doesn’t take Latin and doesn’t want to mess up the pronunciation. The girl is studying Mandarin. Another guy recommends sticking it into Google Translate but that’s likely to land them with gibberish. They leave it alone.
The car won’t start. They call an Uber.
The vampire captures the girl and insists that she wears the gown to dinner. The gown is actually hella cute. Only problem is it’s not in her size. Oh, it only comes in 2’s and 4’s? Sorry, vamp, you want me in that dress you contact the goddamn company and tell them to get their shit together.
“How did you possibly know that? It saved our lives!” “I’ve got two degrees and I spend way too much time on Wikipedia.”
They encounter a spirit that gains power the more people believe in it. One girl makes a vine and uploads with, “fakest ghost ever!!! Right??” Twenty minutes later the spirit is destroyed.
The circus is in town tonight. Except she’s lived her whole life here and the circus has never come before… it’s also in a pretty sketchy part of town, not somewhere you’d want to walk alone at night. She goes to a movie instead.
“You’d need an ARMY to fight this evil!” “Okay. I’ve got 20,000 followers, lets see how many can make it.”
The Evil Whispery Voice of Doom tells the jock that it’s going to kill his pretty blonde girlfriend. The jock gets offended because, excuse me, Cindy and I are just friends. However, Marty over there is my boyfriend and I’m not saying you should kill him, just stop making assumptions yeah?
“This spirit tried to convince me it was Jerry when it texted but its texting style is COMPLETELY DIFFERENT so yeah that didn’t work.”
We could have easily gotten lost and ended up at some creepy cabin in the woods, but luckily we all had functioning GPSs. Beach party, we’ve arrived!
“We have to find a way to destroy it! We—what are you doing?” “Looking up ‘exorcising demons’ on Google. Oh look, first hit.”
The child she bares will be the devil’s spawn. Good thing she doesn’t want kids. Or if she changes her mind she can always adopt.
“How can we possibly outwit this serial killer…” “… There’s gotta be an app for that. Lemme look.”
Only the virgin will survive… Turns out they’re all virgins. One is asexual. One wants to wait until marriage. Two just haven’t found the right person yet. One is meh about sex. So we all survive, yeah?
The girl does not fall. She was on varsity track.
“Quick! We need someplace to hide the artifact. And then decoys to confuse the beast! What have we got?” “… I’ve got a hundred plastic bags stuffed into another plastic bag.” “PERFECT.”
i would pay to read a book of a collection of modern horror stories
They’re trapped in a haunted cabin one of them inherited from a Weird UncleTM. Mysterious figures, things going flying, screams and drumbeats and chanting, blood pouring down the walls, the whole bit. They pull out the Ouija Board.
“BRO, WHAT IS YOUR DEAL?”
S…A…C…R…E…D…L…A…N…D
“Oh.”
“Oh geez. Oh no. This is Native American land. Oh goodness I am SO sorry.”
“Um so, like I inherited this property and a couple acres, can I like…donate it?”
W…H…A…T
“Yeah man like, what tribe are you? I don’t want to live here, this cabin is grody and Uncle Tim was a fuckin’ weirdo. It’s your guys’ land, just like, what tribe?”
C..H…U…M…A…S…H
“Cool. Uh, I guess we’ll…call them…in the morning?”
T…H…A…N…K…Y…O…U GOODBYE
“Oh. Well fuck, like, that was easy.”
I was all set to dislike this when I saw the title, thinking it was gonna be another bashing of my generation post… then boom! Talk about saving the day!
also I think it’s important we realize that being nice to children needs to also apply into their teenage years.
when I was 17, five months after my dad had died in a house fire and I lost my home and we nearly ended up homeless, I was lucky enough to go on a school trip to the bahamas to study the reefs. This was my Ultimate Dream, as an aspiring marine biologist, and I couldn’t believe it was coming true. It was the only good thing to happen to me since the fire, the only thing I’d genuinely looked forward to.
But I had ADHD and could be too loud (by then I was good at not talking out in class so I was only loud when we were ALLOWED to be) and a little whacky. My humor was “weird,” I had asthma, and to top it off, I wasn’t pretty.
When we got there, the outpost where we were staying was run by college students, probably getting their graduate degrees, all aged about 22-26. And they saw us all as their age, even though some of them nearly had a decade on us.
And since they saw us as peers rather than children, they felt comfortable making judgements about us, and they decided I was weird and annoying.
And they were mean to me. They made fun of me, deliberately made me feel excluded and odd in front of each other and my own peers, and sometimes when I’d say something in class they’d make a face, say “Ohhhkaaaayyyy,” and look at each other knowingly while they pretended they were even trying to hold back laughing at me. They avoided calling on me during classes, didn’t want me participating, and generally made it obvious how annoying I was to them.
I even noticed that another person in my class was just as weird, if not more, than I was, but she was gorgeous. And to people looking at us as adults instead of children, that mattered.
And it ruined everything.
Another adult on the trip started paying attention and thinking perhaps there was a reason the people in charge didn’t like me. After all, what kind of adult is mean to a kid for no reason? So one night at a festival when she saw me take apart my inhaler, she misunderstood what it was and told the teacher in charge of our trip she’d seen me using drugs. I wasn’t allowed to go anywhere alone for the rest of the trip, not even the bathroom at the airport, despite my friends and a few other peers defending me.
I was mortified and ashamed and ended up lying there in bed every night, wondering how something I’d looked forward to so much could end up so terrible. I wanted nothing more as a child than to be good and win adult approval, and somehow I’d made all the adults there dislike me. I thought it was my fault.
I’d love to see all of these people again now, as an adult myself, and tell them what I was going through.
Tell them, “did you know, when you made fun of me all week back then, when you made me feel untrustworthy and called me a liar, I was grieving the loss of my father. I went away to try to stop thinking about him and the fire and losing my home and everything else, just for a week, and you stole that from me? You ruined that for me?”
Be. Fucking. Nice. To. Children.
Okay this is so important though. As much as they may act like adults and want to be treated like adults, high schoolers are still developing and maturing and it is So. Very. Important. To be kind and supportive of them. If you’re in your 20’s, a high schooler is no more your peer than the 10 year old next door is. They will expect to be (and should be) treated differently than a 10 year old, but you are still a role model/support system to them.
THIS. SO MUCH THIS.
It breaks my heart how little the teens I work with have been positively affirmed by adults. One of the boys in my youth group, 16 years old, is this incredibly talented young man who can play 30+ instruments, sings like an angel, is the kindest most golden-hearted kid ever, and is an incredible actor. He can be a little too loud and goofy, and his humour can be random at times when he uses it to deal with awkwardness (don’t we all do that a bit tho?), but who cares?! It’s what makes him so unique and wonderful! And if he ever is getting too wild at youth group, I’ll just gently ask him to take it down a level and he will do so immediately because he is a darn respectful kid.
This kid- I have such a soft spot in my heart for him. But one time, after he confessed to me how badly he had been bullied in elementary school, I got the chance to affirm the amazing gifts of kindness and leadership I saw in him and he started crying because he could hardly believe it.
Seriously. No one ever tells him what incredible gifts he has. No one bothers to look past the awkward jokes to the deeply caring young man behind them. No one. Not his peers, not his teachers. Yknow, he told me once that he is sure all his teachers hate him because he goofs off sometimes. It broke my heart to hear that.
Teenagers can be awkward. They can be loud and goofy and they talk too much and forget to pay attention sometimes. And that is OK!!! They are still young!! They are still learning!!! Cut them some slack, for goodness sakes! Don’t take misbehaviour as a personal offence against you. And please, PLEASE, affirm the good qualities you see in them like compassion and kindness and leadership. Teens (and people in general actually) deserve to know that they are worth a heck of a lot more than just a pair of A+s.
sometimes i have too many emotions and sometimes i have none at all but i always always feel like i’m drowning
Learn how to swim Bitch
i made this post when i was in A Mood and all the replies are so angst and depressing except this Whole Ass Mood. Learn how to swim Bitch it’s 2018 we’re dealing with our problems
We really have harmed a whole generation of trans and gnc children by failing to communicate how serious a decision binding actually is, how there’s no ACTUALLY safe way to bind, how it permeneantly damages the body, how it can make top surgery more difficult in the future. I don’t think we should be keeping trans kids from binding (we let kids do all sorts of things they’re really not old enough to understand the potential consequences of) but we owe them the ability to make informed decisions at LEAST
So this is definitely an important conversation to have, but can you point me at some reading about “permanent damage”? I might just be lucky, but I had zero lasting effects from binding. I’d like to at least read up on it so I can have this conversation and be more specific than “be careful.”
Of course! I can’t easily source right now but I am more than happy to provide further info when I am not at work and on mobile. Unfortunately, like a lot of trans healthcare, a lot of what we know about binding is anecdotal and word of mouth. BUT permeneant damage can include:
-Musculoskeletal damage. Binders are indiscriminate compression tools; they can’t flatten the chest without applying pressure every other anatomical structure underneath including the spine, ribs, lungs and heart. Many people who bind experience chronic back pain, shoulder pain, sharp stabbing chest pains, permeneantly decreased lung capacity, literal spine deformation, etc etc.
-A continuation of the above but the ribs are actually jointed bones. Their ability to flex is absolutely vital to their ability to withstand trauma and protect your vital organs. Imagine the damage that would be done to your elbow if your bent your arm to full flexion and then tightly bound it closed like that, for six, eight, twelve hours per day, every day, for weeks or months or years. And you don’t NEED a functioning arm to live!
-Tissue atrophy. Forcing chest tissue to lay in an unnatural way can and will change the way that tissue looks, even to risk of atrophy. Some people who bind and only moderately dislike the way their chest looks find that they HATE the way it looks after binding for a period of time. Tissue atrophy can also make top surgery more difficult in the future, and increase the risk of complications like nerve damage.
-Worsened dysphoria. Once someone starts binding and becomes accustomed to seeing themselves with a flat chest, it can be much more difficult to see yourself without one, and dysphoria that much more intolerable. You can imagine the psychological feedback loop of binding more in response.
The typical safety measures passed around about binding are harm REDUCTION measures and should not be advertised as making binding “safe.” Binding is not safe. It is a very serious health decision with long term consequences and should be treated as such. That doesn’t mean it’s the wrong decision, but it should not be considered the DEFAULT decision for chest dysphoria which is frankly how it’s currently treated.
I went to the Philadelphia Trans Health Conference and went to a workshop held by a chiropractor who works with trans men (as well as being a trans man himself), so I’m going to pass on his advice to people who bind:
Stretch your chest, shoulders, and back everyday (at least)
This is a passive stretch where you place a foam roller at the bottom of your spine (to support your hips and lower back), and lifts your shoulders off of the ground, with your arms on the ground to balance you.
This stretch is meant to be held for a few minutes, open up your chest, and aid your everyday posture.
You probably don’t own a foam roller, he advised to wrap a towel or blanket very tightly and tied as a substitute. I use a layer of bed foam rolled up with two belts to keep it rolled. Whatever you use, it ought to have a bit of give and it needs to lift your shoulders off the ground.
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This is an active stretch. Stand in front of a doorway with your feet together (if the door way was not there, your toes would be touching the wall, not crossing through it). When you lift your arms up and put them against the wall, your feet, hips, and arms should all be in line with each other (your arms should not be behind you with your feet and hips in the doorway).
Make a “W” shape with your arms against the wall so that your elbows are the closest part of your arm to the ground, and take one small step forward.
You should feel a pull in your lower shoulders, but it should be comfortable to hold. Donot over stretch, you shouldn’t be leaning your weight into your arms to balance, your weight should be balanced by your legs. Do not judge yourself and think you are doing yourself a favor by thinking that you ought to have a bigger step. Sure, you could overstretch today, but you need to be able to do this tomorrow too! Hold this for 10-15 seconds. (Yet again. Do. Not. Overstretch.)
Bring your feet back together, and do it the other foot. There will probably be one foot that is easier than the other, stretch that step more often than the less difficult step.
Bring your feet together and bring your elbows up so that your upper arms are parallel to the ground and your elbow forms a 90° angle with your forearms. Take your small step forward and hold for 10-15 seconds and switch feet.
Now reach your arms up as high as you can. It doesn’t have to be much higher than the last stretch, if that is as high as you can go, then that’s it. If you can’t reach higher than the last stretch, put your arms down at your sides and then lift your arms up from your sides and put them against the wall (sorry he didn’t include a picture of this one in the slides, message me if this is unclear.)
Your goal is to be able to reach your arms up like in the picture so that you form a Y shape. Step forward and hold for 10-15 seconds, then switch feet.
His advice was to do this stretch as often as you use the bathroom at home (shoot for 3-5 times a day).
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The next two stretchs don’t have pictures! If you can do these stretches with ease and want a more intense version, try using dumbbells and incorporating it into your workouts.
If you’ve ever done snow angels? Put your heels, butt, shoulders, and arms up against a wall (as much of your body as you possibly can should be touching the wall) and lift your arms up as high as you can go like you are making a snow angel.
Alternatively, lay down on the ground instead of up against a wall if you need to work your way up to lifting your arms above your head.
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Again, with your body up against the wall, but this time with your arms in front of you, bring your arms up like Frankenstein’s monster, so that they are as high as your shoulders. Hold this for a few seconds.
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After trying these stretchs, it’ll probably be clear where your range of motion is most limited. For me, the most useful stretches are the W and 90° angle doorway stretch and foam roller stretch, bc I have the most trouble with my lower shoulders and chest. Try to maintain your range of motion where you have it, and use these stretches to improve your range of motion where you are limited.
Maybe the world was supposed to end in 2012, but somewhere some group of raggamuffin heroes saved the day and we’re living in the post credits world, waiting for a sequel
I think enough has happened in the meantime. Ready for that goddamn sequel now
I wish I knew the exact time and date that harry told snape ‘there’s no need to call me sir professor’ so that I could take a moment of silence to remember the moment each year
Judging from the context of the chapter…
We know that it’s September 2nd. I’d put it between 9:00 AM and 11:00 AM. (They have breakfast and then a free period. They have Snape’s class before their break, which was before their lunch.)
But in the UK first period typically only starts at 9 AM. So free period from around 9-10 AM and Snapes class from 10-11 AM I’d say.
Okay so 10am-11am every September 2nd is now an hour dedicated to remembering the most glorious piece of dialogue ever spoken by a fictional character
ok this just appeared on my blog with ample time for you all to prepare because apparently I stumbled across it months ago, and scheduled it to post on september first. executive function TRIUMPH!!!!!!!
Worth noting that tomorrow is the 20th anniversary of the greatest burn in history
andtheytoldustotellyouhello 