One of my favourite things about Harry Potter is that Harry is such an unreliable narrator, not because he’s lying, but because he was so oblivious, just about anything could be going on under his nose and he wouldn’t even notice. It’s great because it supports basically every headcanon. Like, no, Harry would not have noticed if Sirius and Remus were dating, I know he’s The Chosen One but he’s about as perceptive as a pile of bricks.
So I’m moving into a new apartment, and I was told that the room had been damaged, but nothing could have prepared me for the fact that someone had carved Li Shang’s head out of the bathroom door and written “We must defeat the Huns!” on it.
“As soon as teenage girls start to profess love for something, everyone else becomes totally dismissive of it. Teenage girls are open season for the cruelest bullying that our society can dream up. Everyone’s vicious to them. They’re vicious to each other. Hell, they’re even vicious to themselves. It’s terrible.
So if teenage girls have something that they love, isn’t that a good thing? Isn’t it better for them to find some words they believe in, words like the ‘fire-proof and fearless ’ lyrics that Jacqui wrote? Isn’t it better for them to put those words on their arm in a tattoo than for them to cut gashes in that same skin? Shouldn’t we be grateful when teenage girls love our work? Shouldn’t that be a fucking honor?
It’s used as the cheapest, easiest test of crap, isn’t it? If teenage girls love a movie, a book, a band, then it’s immediately classified as mediocre shit. Well, I’m not going to stand for that. Someone needs to treat them like they’re precious, and if nobody else is ready to step up, I guess it’s up to us to put them on the path to recognizing that about themselves.”—The Devil’s Mixtape (via queerravenclaw)