...to defeat the huns.

DeAnna aka Dee or Meowbooks. Student of Life. Hufflepuff. Whovian.
If you're just looking to see what I'll reblog: Optimism, Doctor Who, Harry Potter, Supernatural, things about social media, social issues, geeky things, Pirates of the Caribbean,NBC's Chuck, Game of Thones, Quotes and a slew of other stuff that tickles my fancy.

{ wear }



By Dr. Andrea Letamendi

Leagues and legions of superheroes are usually effective as a direct result of the union of each member’s unique abilities, whether they include super-human strength, lightning-speed, telepathy, or other powers that individually define each of them as a deserved hero and collectively create an unstoppable force.

In Guardians of the Galaxy, we’re introduced to a band of outlaws, outsiders and outcasts. With the exception of some sweet dance moves and decent marksmanship, we don’t immediately get the traditional introduction to the colorful rainbow of superpowers we’re accustomed to with superhero teams. There’s no amazing, no fantastic, no spectacular. The Guardians themselves refer to themselves as “losers” and the “biggest idiots” in the galaxy. They underperform or fall below normative expectations. In fact, these space misfits offer something rarely seen in superhero films: the Guardians show emotional, neurological, developmental and communication deficits that 1) are not expected to be resolved or cured at the end of the film and 2) do not make them ineffective as heroes.

The following is a conceptualization of each character’s below-average functioning across some psychological dimensions and why these deficits do not create significant limits for them.





I absolutely played Wonder Woman when I was a kid. I had the lasso, the whole bracelet thing, I even had my twirl down. I just knew that I was going to be taken back to Paradise Island, because that’s really where I belonged. I was this small little Amazon just waiting to express myself, waiting for my true mother to come and get me.


Was going back through my blog earlier, and found this. Reblogging for Ashleigh because this edit is even cooler than the other one!

(via cpt-tightpants)




By Chris Sims

Q: I am sick of hearing that a Wonder Woman movie is too hard. I know how I would do it, but what’s your pitch for a Wonder Woman film?@Bibphile78

A: A few weeks ago, I probably would’ve backed off of this question, for two simple reasons. The first is that I was pretty sure my specific tastes don’t really match up with what goes into a big-budget Hollywood film, but that was before we knew Marvel was spending a ton of money on a live-action arena show involving dirtbikes and skateboard tricks, and that they’d cast someone who once played Velma in a Scooby-Doo movie to play Aja in a big-budget Jem and the Holograms picture. At this point? I’m pretty sure I’ve somehow ended up being the target market for mass media, and believe me, I’m as surprised about that as you are. So what the hell, let’s pitch a Wonder Woman movie.

Oh, right, the second reason. Well, that one’s a little tougher to get around. As I’ve occasionally mentioned before, I don’t actually like Wonder Woman. Like, at all. That might complicate things.





By Rachel Edidin

If you didn’t catch the news, last Friday, the website Comic Book Resources posted a five-page preview of the latest issue of the Game of Thrones comic book adaptation. And the pages they published — the pages Dynamite Entertainment sent out as representative of the book, which is a standard practice for comic book publishers — included an incredibly graphic rape scene. Erect penis, front and center. Woman bent back nearly double, naked, arched like a porn star.

It just so happens that was also the week that HBO decided to add—and then vigorously defend — a graphic rape scene in the Game of Thrones TV series (a trend the network continued this week), and that both fall in the middle of Sexual Assault Awareness month — and yes, thanks, HBO, Dynamite and CBR, we are in fact extra aware of sexual assault now, so, well done, there. It’s worth noting, too, that this is coming on the heels of an incident where a fellow comics editor and journalist got a slew of graphic rape threats for having the temerity to critique the portrayal of a teen girl in a piece of cover art (also published on CBR).

But it’s also not just this week, or this month. It’s this year. This decade. This lifetime. This is business as usual.

I am so tired of writing about rape, and especially rape in pop media, because I have had this conversation dozens and hundreds and thousands of times, as a crisis advocate and an educator, as an editor and writer, as a human being. Because last week, a fellow pop-culture journalist realized that she’s gotten so many rape threats that they’ve begun to feel routine, and this is the landscape where I work every day.

Because rape is still the go-to for lazy storytellers trying to look edgy or add depth to a heroine’s backstory with a minimum of thought.


Let’s talk about Sharon Carter.



"But then, something occurs which snaps the brooding adventurer out of his gloomy reverie…"
Steve: That girl! When she walked by, I thought I was in the past again — looking at — her!
Steve: How wary she looks — clutching that cylinder as though her life depends on it!

Tales of Suspense #75, by Lee and Kirby

First introduced in 1966, Sharon Carter has over the years become one of the most iconic characters in Captain America mythos. She has no superpowers. This alone puts her on a whole new level of badass, since despite her relative normalcy she can hold her own as part of a team that includes Captain America, War Machine and Valkyrie.

At different points in her (long and tumultuous) history she has been a SHIELD agent, a freelance spy, a mercenary, a renegade agent and sometimes more than one of those things at once. She has been presumed dead, she has been executive director of SHIELD, she ran an all-female SHIELD spec ops squad, she has fought behind enemy lines, she suffered trauma and brainwashing and throughout all that she stayed true to her ideals and always strived to do the right thing.

Sharon is one of the few women heroes in today’s comics whose motivation and origin isn’t tied with a male legacy. Despite the fact that her relationship with Peggy Carter has been retconned multiple times, the one consistent aspect of it is that Sharon was first inspired to join SHIELD by Peggy and her wartime exploits. She carries a female legacy and lives up to that name, and her motivation is refreshingly free of male influence and agency.

It’s interesting to note that Sharon was introduced in the same issue as Peggy — in fact we actually met Sharon first, on-panel, while Peggy was mentioned but not named until later. Neither of them were ever meant to be a better or more valid character than the other: they’re simply two women from different eras, functioning in different narrative contexts. They are each other’s origin story and plot device, yes, but it always goes both ways. That is why even though in-universe Sharon is a legacy character, she isn’t one narratively. She is and always has been her own person.


Contessa: You were baldy injured…and your orders are to take it easy and sit this one out! So be a doll and play it that way, huh?
Sharon: Not a chance, Val! I’m physically and mentally fit again…and I’m resuming my command! Now tell me what’s going on…and that’s an order!

Captain America v1 #148, by Friedrich and Buscema

Personality-wise Sharon is brash, impatient, very stubborn and no-nonsense — traits more often associated with male characters (and reason why she’s so very often labelled a b*tch. Let’s be real here, Sharon isn’t very popular among fans, even female fans, which honestly boggles the mind). Despite her sense of justice she’s also very cynical; especially in Mark Waid’s Captain America she serves as a perfect foil for Steve Rogers’ idealism. Her misanthropic streak stems from her experiences as a SHIELD operative, in particular the time she was sent deep undercover and then apparently abandoned by Nick Fury behind enemy lines and had to fend for herself.

It would be impossible to summarise Sharon’s forty-seven years of continuity in a tiny tumblr post, so I’m just going to direct you to the wiki (and the Marvel wiki).

Good points to jump onboard the love train:

  • Captain America #444-#454, written by Mark Waid (1995)
  • Captain America v3, written by Mark Waid, Dan Jurgens (1998)
  • Nick Fury and Agent 13, written by Terry Kavanagh (1998)
  • Secret Avengers #17-#21, written by Warren Ellis (2011)
  • Captain America and the Secret Avengers, written by Kelly Sue DeConnick (2011)



By Andy Khouri

Digital comics retailer ComiXology announced on Saturday that it was “retiring” its existing iOS applications for iPhone and iPad and replacing them with a new version that does not include the ability to make in-app purchases, one of the platform’s most signature and popular features. The iOS app’s storefront is simply gone, leaving only a reader app in its place. Going forward, iOS users will have to pursue the less direct path of buying their digital comics from ComiXology’s Web interface and later syncing them to their devices using the new app. This process circumvents Apple — whose iTunes App Store takes 30% of all in-app purchases from all vendors in the IOS marketplace — and thereby presumably frees up more profit for comic book publishers and/or comic book creators.

Presently, ComiXology’s branded iOS apps for DC, Marvel, Image and IDW are working as they have been. The Android app has also been updated, and users can make in-app purchases with a new integrated storefront instead of through Google Play.

The news comes just a couple of weeks after ComiXology and Apple rival Amazon.com announced that the latter was acquiring the former, and the new iOS process resembles that which Amazon’s Kindle customers have followed to use those products on Apple devices.


Anonymous asked:
After "Don't rape" and "Don't threaten rape" what's the best way for men to improve the lives of women and girls in geekdom?


Okay, look: “Don’t rape” and “don’t threaten rape” are pinpoint-specific parts of social compact, also known as “the bare minimum expectations for getting to be part of society.”

These are things that should be taken as a given. Don’t hold up ”don’t rape” and “don’t threaten rape” like they are gifts.

I mean, don’t do those things, and deter others from doing them, and talk about all of this, but, fuck, man.


The best way men can improve the lives of women and girls in geekdom is to do their damnedest to shift the balance of power. Geek dudes—especially white geek dudes—you have something the ladies do not: you have a platform from which to speak about issues of justice with relative impunity. Use it. Better yet, share it with or give it to someone who does not have that privilege.

Are you a pro on a panel that’s all white dudes? Give up your seat to a woman of color. Encourage other panelists to do the same. Straight-up refuse to be part of panels that do not work toward equal representation. Hold speaker and guest lists at cons to the same standard. And talk about what you are doing, and why.

If you are in a position that gives you hiring power, hire women—especially into positions where they will have power, not just low-level editorial and work-for-hire gigs. Actively seek and use the input of women, and go out of your way to make really damn sure they’re credited for those contributions

Seek and vocally advocate for works by and about women, for female-friendly and generally diversity-friendly publishers, retailers, and fan communities. When someone does shit right, vote with your dollars and spread the word. When someone fucks up, call them out, and—if there’s any real potential for it and you’ve got the capacity—offer them impetus for and tools to change.

Buy girl books. Buy books with pink covers, and read them in public. Break down the box of geek masculinity, and live the geek culture you want to see and be part of. Subvert everything.

Meanwhile: Hold other men accountable. Don’t tell rape jokes. Call out bullshit.

And respect the anger of those of us who have been consistently marginalized. If you want to be an ally in this fight, recognize that the fight is not about you: sometimes solidarity means giving other people space to be frustrated and angry at a system from which you directly benefit, and sometimes that means that they will, by extension, be angry at you—and that this, along with everything else, means *that system* is your common enemy.

Speaking of systems: Educate yourself. Read How to Suppress Women’s Writing and call that shit out. Understand that in this fight, your voice is generally considered to mean more than mine. Fight that inequality as hard as you can—but meanwhile, while you’ve got that platform, use it.



Gabriele Dell’Otto, for your appreciation.

(via wolffpakk)



Tom Burgos


1. Problematizing comics fandom: A multitude of textual universes
[1.1] The relationship between slash fan fiction and comics fandom is problematic not only because of the shift of medium from source text to fan text but also because of the shift of fan community. Comics fandom is often viewed as consisting of heterosexual white men and comics are often explicitly marketed to them, excluding and othering the rest of the audience. Comics fandom online subverts this expectation of audience because the majority of fan authors and creators are women. While canon plots privilege action and conflict, and the problematic depiction of women characters in them is so obvious it hardly need be discussed, comics fan fiction reverses these trends: stories privilege emotional arcs, and female characters are depicted as more recognizably human even when they are secondary to the male characters.

[1.2] Comics fan works thus become completely transformative because of the shift in both fan space and fan audience: texts that are homophobic become homophiliac, authors and readers who are male become female, and that which had previously been other becomes the new norm. For these reasons, the fans are not just aware but indeed hyperaware of their own identity as subaltern and subversive practitioners.

[1.3] “When the overwhelming presentations appear homophobic, where are the positive queer identities to be found in these works? That homophobia is used throughout these texts (and others within the comics genre) by the authors to establish queer identities has been made readily apparent. All too often these identities are crafted as a reaction to the homosexual’s interruption of society’s heteronormative homosocial. As a result, these homophobic identities regularly appear as threats to heterosexual society: gays as murderers, villains, rapists, and pedophiles. And yet we have also seen where the positive identities can exist. It is due to the very nature of comics’ physical attributes (their visual aspects, panel structures, and blank gutters) that we are allowed an alternative space where queer identities that are not saddled with homophobia can be formed. (Buso 2010, 79–80)”

[1.4] Through this lens, all of comics slash fandom becomes a resistant and even a queer reading, an insistence on enacting and creating a virtual safe space for fans. Further, this self-awareness of identity (as feminine, as queer) becomes explicitly politicized through its declaration of being, which is then often rewritten from within the fan texts themselves. Comics fandom and fan fiction in particular face an especially unusual challenge because of the difference of medium. While many comics fan works are themselves comics—some of which are of professional quality in both artwork and writing—many more are in the traditional fan fiction format of short stories or novels. In some ways, this format is at odds with the original medium, in which the interplay of illustration, textual narrative, and dialogue is as crucial to the form as the story itself. For instance, Scott McCloud explains what he calls closure by describing how the comics format invites the reader to acknowledge that comics (and thus, all texts) are artificial creations that our brains then rationalize to fill in the blanks:

[1.5] “See that space between the panels? That’s what comics aficionados have named “the gutter.” And despite its unceremonious title, the gutter plays host to much of the magic and mystery that are at the very heart of comics. Here in the limbo of the gutter, human imagination takes two separate images and transforms them into a single idea. Nothing is seen between the two panels, but experience tells you something must be there. Comics panels fracture both time and space, offering a jagged, staccato rhythm of unconnected moments. But closure allows us to connect these moments and mentally construct a continuous, unified reality. (1993, 67)”

[1.6] Fan fiction and other fan works are efforts to join these disconnected moments and make sense of them in another fashion, by piecing together those elements visually present in the text with those that are clearly not. Reconstructing these pieces to create new works is not only a part of reading comics textually but also a part of reading fan works.

Catherine Coker, Earth 616, Earth 1610, Earth 3490—Wait, what universe is this again? The creation and evolution of the Avengers and Captain America/Iron Man fandom, "Transformative Works and Cultures" vol. 13 2013 (via draczedoesma)


The black women of Marvel

Misty Knight, Idie Okonkwo, Tilda Johnson (Nightshade), Tamara Devoux (Captain Universe), Monica Rambeau (Spectrum), Tamika Bowen (Wildstreak), and Ororo Munroe (Storm)

(via vintagegal)



Wonder Woman

(via arrowsandbracelets)


(Source: starksego, via tardisinhogwarts)



Diana by hedgehawke

(via comicbookwomen)



I FINALLY FOUND IT. That top panel, specifically. I tried so many word combos on Google Images…”bucky natasha sex” is what yielded it finally. I should learn to be more obvious with my keywords. ANYWAY. I found it. For science.

That panel is wonderful. A lamp is knocked over, and so is a plant. Her bra is hanging off another lamp, and his mask is sitting on the bed. These two, y’all.