trigger warning: he kisses me and i
get a contact high,
i spend the rest of the night
wondering whose bed you’re falling
asleep in and if you’ll get
the urge to tell me you’ve been
thinking of me
trigger warning: he kisses her too
and i spend the rest of the
week forgetting my middle name,
i do not think of you
when i let him put his hands on the
scar tissue you left behind
trigger warning: he looks at me like i
am glowing and i pick out
every girl in the grocery store that
deserves to be the one holding his hand,
i do not go to bed that night
trigger warning: he is nothing like
you and most nights i’m not sure
what to do with my hands
trigger warning: i promised myself i
would never write about you again
—  trigger warning: i make promises I can’t keep | fragilefuck

mean girl anthemfor those days when you’re feeling a little superior to the basic bitch.

bubblegum bitch - marina and the diamonds // run the world (girls) - beyonce // candy store - heathers // homewrecker - marina and the diamonds // video kid - the birthday massacre // diamonds (remix) - rihanna // flawless (remix) ft. nicki minaj - beyonce // smile - lily allen // bad girls - m.i.a. // blah blah blah ft. 3oh!3 - ke$ha // anaconda - nicki minaj // feed me diamonds - mdnr // i love it - icona pop // work bitch - britney spears // bitter rivals - sleigh bells // applause - lady gaga // pour it up - rihanna

roy: my anaconda don’t
riza: no
roy: my anACONDA DON’T
riza: roy don-
roy: MY ANACONDA DON’T WANT NONE UNLESS YOU GOT BUNS HUN
riza: i’m leaving you

2

Watch out! He’s burning way too hot!

Finally finished cleaning it!

Feel free to colour, use it for your blog and stuff just please don’t claim it as your own! I worked hours cleaning this up for you guys to enjoy!

anonymous said:

Fuck you and all feminist sluts. You guys always complain you want equality and blah blah blah! Really? No doesn't mean no, it means yes! Men have been on Earth longer than women and have always been the dominant sex. Why should we listen to your clueless rants and protests? If we men want to rape women, we CAN, and we WILL! Your stupid protesting will get you nowhere in life. Feminists should DESERVE to be raped! If a man wants her body HE SHALL HAVE IT!

In all seriousness this is the all time saddest mail I have ever received.

THAT DELETED SCENE!! PERF!!

Guys like what even these two little mofos will be the death of me they will kill me someday I am convinced

So Hayley in deleted scenes asked about the rings and so Klaus answered her and she was fine with his answer 

so then Elijah gotta always gives his lol and is always against Klaus he was like

Elijah: “Perhaps blah blah blah etc.”

Hayley quickly  was like “No no way blah blah etc.” about what Elijah said 

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and then she looked at Klaus that she agreed with him 

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THEN HAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!! LOOK AT WHAT KLAUS DOES……….. I CANT HAHAHAHA little mofo turns his head at Elijah all smug looking like……….. well wifey agrees with me Elijah …… what now?

image

THESES TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!
 DAMN IT WILL BE THE END OF ME I am convinced 

SO PERFECT TOGETHER

soulmates <3 

anonymous said:

i have lost all hope for stydia :((

But why? Literally nothing has changed since the beginning of this season. Stalia is being fast tracked, they’ve had their first fight, already made up, blah blah. Regardless of Stydia happening or not there is no way that Stalia should last considering Malia has lightyears more of development to do (outside of Stiles) and this is Stiles’ first relationship. Like, thats no.

Second, I know everyone is disappointed over this 11th episode ‘tradition’ but there was never any tradition to begin with. Its a silly coincidence and fandom blew it up into something massive (as fandom does) and now people are disappointed.

Third, Parrish. Could it happen? Yeah. And? It wouldn’t be Lydia’s first relationship, or last. 

Malia, Parrish and anything else doesnt mean that Stydia doesnt have a chance. Everyone is so anxious as if season 4 is break it or make it time. Its not. There are a confirmed 20 episodes ahead of us … maybe even more. The story doesn’t stop. 

Have some patience and have hope but curb your expectations (this should be the shows tagline, tbh).

anonymous said:

I have a head cannon that Cecil wears roller blades everywhere. Like, he has special dress roller blades, and stuff. Different color rollerblades for different outfits. Fancy roller blades for dates. Some galaxy print roller blades he bought to impress Carlos. Just... Roller blade Cecil.

image

and then Cecil finds out that Carlos doesn’t know how to roller blade and decides to teach him.

Family Don't End in Blood

Summary: Castiel must raise Dean’s daughter after Sam and Dean’s deaths.

Warnings: main character death, death of parents, angsty shit

(So I got this request a few days ago and really loved it because my ultimate weakness is TFW as family/parents. However, the result is kind of unlike anything else I’ve written before, at least in my opinion. It’s not a reader insert, and it’s just kind of… I don’t know, different? Anyway, I hope you like it, even though I didn’t know what to name the kid so she just doesn’t have a name… and the ending is sort of blah… I’m gonna stop criticizing myself now so just read it gosh ~Sam)

***

At first, he was Cat.

It wasn’t surprising that her first word was ‘dada,’ and even less surprising was Dean’s reaction; he hadn’t stopped smiling for days, clinging to her even more than usual and beaming proudly down at her every time she spoke his name. However, it wasn’t long before she figured out her uncle’s name, too (although she had trouble pronouncing s’s and called him Bam instead of Sam), and shortly thereafter starting calling Castiel by her own version of his name, as well.

He could still remember the first time she said it. Sam and Dean had often tried to get her to learn his name, gesturing to the angel and repeating “Cas, say Cas” until it didn’t even sound like a real name anymore. But of course back then he wasn’t around as often as he would have liked, and so the one-year-old’s father and uncle eventually moved on to teaching her other words (or at least trying to).

Sam’s attempts were usually more realistic, prompting her to learn words like “food” or “bunny” (in reference to the stuffed rabbit he’d gotten his niece when she was still a pink-faced, unbelievably small newborn, which she slept with every night since coming from the hospital). Dean, on the other hand, could be found many days playing with her on his bed in the bunker, pointing to different records and instructing, “Say music. Muuuuuu-sic,” or, one time, “Baby, can you say Metallica?”

Castiel, on the other hand (when he was able to visit, once every few weeks or so), didn’t push her much to learn words she wouldn’t understand the meanings of anyway. He was still new to the difficult world of taking care of children, but he could imagine it would be somewhat patronizing constantly being made googly-eyes at and asked in strange voices to say things like “shoe” or “toy.” So when he was left alone with her to watch over her while Sam and Dean were away or busy, he usually spared her the English lessons and opted instead to play with her in silence or hum quietly until she fell asleep.

It was one of these peacefully quiet times that she first said his name (or her version of it). The two adult Winchesters had left her alone with Cas while they bought supplies and groceries, and as per usual, the bunker had been rather silent for the past hour, save for the child’s gibberish babblings and peals of laughter as she clumsily fumbled around with blocks and her beloved bunny. However, she lost interest in her toys the moment her father and uncle strolled into the room, arms weighed down by multiple grocery sacks, which Dean immediately put down before rushing over to the little girl seated on Castiel’s lap.

“Dada!” she squealed happily, reaching her arms up for him. Dean swept her into his arms and gave her an exaggeratedly loud kiss on her soft cheek, causing her to burst into giggles. Cas smiled softly at the sound of her laughter as he stood up from the couch and smoothed out the wrinkles in his trench coat.

“Hey, baby girl,” Dean greeted her lovingly, holding her on his hip and nodding towards Castiel. “Did you have a fun time with Uncle Cas?”

Turning her bright green eyes towards her honorary uncle, her few tiny teeth showed as she broke into a grin and exclaimed, “Cat!”

Cas looked up at the child curiously, and Dean’s eyes widened with amused surprise. “Hey, looks like she finally figured out your name, Cas,” he smirked. “Well, sort of.” He adjusted the bow on top of her head and prompted, “Can you say Cas?”

The angel watched without comment as she squealed again, “Cat! Cat!” and pointed emphatically in his direction.

It was the first time she ever spoke to him directly, and after that day, she never stopped.

For a while, it was always just “Cat, Cat,” as she would hold her chubby arms out and make grabby hands for Cas when Sam or Dean would hand her over to him. She would giggle giddily as soon as she had settled in his arms, and would rest her fingers on his stubbly cheeks or play with the buttons on his coat.

As she grew, Cat turned to Cassie, her uncle to Sam or Sammy, and Dada to Daddy; she learned to walk on shaky, unsteady, and later confident and constantly-moving little legs; diapers and pacifiers were replaced by Hello Kitty sneakers and bicycles, and somewhere along the way, Castiel developed an unprecedented and unconditional affection for the little girl as if she was his own. And the feelings were more than mutual. Of course Dean was still the go-to for comfort after nightmares or when her scraped knees required more attention than just a band-aid, and Uncle Sam was great when it came to learning how to swim and making sure she ate the vegetables that Dean said weren’t that important. But Cas, he was her storyteller, coming up with bedtime stories about heroes that saved the world more than once (he claimed they were purely fictional, but one day, she would learn otherwise). He was her weird-uncle-mixed-best-friend, a walking encyclopedia to answer every question she could come up with—and damn, did she come up with a lot of questions.

Castiel tried to answer them as best he could, not sugar-coating things or dumbing them down, because he knew she was smart and had to learn these things eventually, anyway. But even still, there were only so much you could tell an eight-year-old, no matter how mature or intelligent the child, and sometimes, he struggled.

“What are those paintings in my room?” They’re for good luck, he’d tell her. And by good luck, he’d think the truth to himself, I mean they will keep you safe from the demons and even angels who would love to bring you harm.

“Why am I not allowed downstairs?” That’s where your father hides your birthday presents. That’s the dungeon where your father and uncle keep monsters hostage for interrogation.

“Where’s Daddy and Sammy?” They’re working this weekend—working to take out a coven of witches in Baltimore.

And the worst.

“Why don’t I have a mommy?”

Cas had frozen in place at the sound of her voice, hand still gripping the knife he’d been rinsing off in the sink while preparing her lunch. It was good, he supposed, that Dean and Sam had been out when she asked the inevitable question they’d all been waiting for her to ask; it would have hurt them too much to have had to explain it to her, would have reopened wounds that had never really closed to begin with. And even though it pained Castiel to think of it as well, she deserved the truth about her own mother—but still…

He recovered himself before she even noticed his original discomfort, placing her finished PB&J on a plate in front of where she sat at the kitchen table, feet swinging lazily beneath her chair. Sitting down beside her, he watched as she mumbled a hurried “thank you” before taking a large bite of the sandwich and looking back up at him, waiting for an answer. He hesitated, seated uncomfortably on the edge of his chair and staring intently at the crumbs falling to the table.

“Cassie?”

Her small voice brought him out of his thoughts, and he took her napkin and used it to gently wipe her chin and lips clean of peanut butter and grape jelly.

“Your mother,” he began slowly, his voice even lower than usual, “passed away when you were very, very young.” Technically before you were even born. She was six months pregnant. You survived, and she perished.

“Does that mean she died?” she asked, mouth full of peanut butter.

He nodded curtly. “Yes, it does.”

Surprisingly, the little girl seemed less affected by his statement than he’d expected. Her rushed eating became slightly less zealous, and the corners of her pink lips turned downward the slightest bit, yet there were no tears, no sniffling as he’d anticipated. Instead, she simply furrowed her brows thoughtfully, appearing years older, and swallowed the last bite of her sandwich before chasing it with a long sip of milk.

“How did she die?” she asked, eyes wide with innocent curiosity. She gazed up at him, looking even more like Dean that she always did.

Castiel cleared his throat and took her now-empty plate, taking it to the sink. “She died saving your father from someone who wanted to hurt him.” Metatron. “She was very brave.” She didn’t deserve to die, but I couldn’t save you both.

The girl nodded, deep in thought. Her smile had indeed fallen, but she appeared less genuinely sad than solemn out of obligation. Castiel understood that; she’d never known her mother—no one even spoke of her—and with Sam and Cas there to help raise her with her father, her mom’s absence went practically unnoticed by the child who didn’t know anything different. At that moment in time, she didn’t mind that she didn’t have a mother. As long as she still had Daddy and Sammy and Cassie, she was fine. But even still, there was something in Cas’s tone and in the air that deflated her a bit, made her feel serious and a little sad even if she wasn’t sure why, really, like the one time Cas took her to church and they had to be quiet and pray.

“Well,” she finally spoke, wiping a milk mustache from her lip with the back of her sleeve. “I’m glad Daddy didn’t get hurt, then.”

Castiel nodded. “Yes. So am I.”

And he was. Of course he was grateful that Dean had survived the attack, even if it had come at a cost. But from the moment they’d brought his tiny, premature newborn back to the bunker and begun their stint as Team Free Will, Parent Edition, Cas had known that it was only a matter of time before Dean stopped surviving. Even though they managed to keep the child away from the hunting world rather well, he’d known—and Sam and Dean had known, too—that one day, her dad would be gone, as well, reunited with her mother only in death. Every time she was left under Castiel’s watch while the brothers went on a hunt, or even when he accompanied them and left the girl in the care of Charlie or Jody Mills, he was constantly on edge, wondering, “What if this is it? What if today is the day she becomes an orphan?”

She was twelve when it finally happened. Perhaps, if Castiel’s grace hadn’t completely burnt out several years earlier, condemning him to mortality for good, he would have been able to save them from the demons that took their lives. But he couldn’t, and he didn’t, and even though there was nothing he could do about it, he always partially blamed himself for it.

In one day, she lost both her father and uncle, and Castiel lost the greatest friends he’d ever known. In a moment, their lives came crumbling down, suddenly lost and alone… except they still had each other.

Castiel tried his hardest to be everything she needed, but the first few years were perhaps the most difficult thing Cas had ever survived, and that included the apocalypse and Purgatory. There were nights where he’d find her glaring down at an Algebra textbook, and would gently place his hand on her shoulder or begin to ask if she needed help only to see her snap in front of him. Angry, seemingly unprovoked tears would stream down her face, still so innocent and young despite the despair in her (Dean’s) eyes, and she’d cry and scream because it’s not fair they’re gone, you should’ve saved them, I should’ve saved them—never mind the fact that she hadn’t even been in the same state as them when Sam and Dean perished. I don’t want you, I want my family. Unless you can bring my dad or my mom or Sam back, leave me the fuck alone!

And even though he didn’t know much about raising teenagers and he no longer possessed the ability to mind-read, Castiel knew she didn’t mean what she said. In his brief tenure as a human, he’d learned that grief could make people say things without thinking, and even though he grieved differently than her, he understood why she did what she did. Of course, the outbursts sometimes hurt anyway, but never for long, because every night when he checked on her before bed, the door was always unlocked despite the perfectly functioning deadbolts on the inside of every room in the bunker. He’d see her curled up on her bed, usually with her back to him, tightly squeezing the bunny Sam gave her that she never would completely outgrow.

And when he’d sit on the edge of her bed and smooth his hand over her hair, she would always mumble “I’m sorry” in the most broken, hoarse-from-crying voice he’d ever heard, and all would be forgotten. Cas would tuck her in the way he’d seen Sam and Dean do ever since she was a baby—it seemed so long ago—and, even though only hours before she had ‘hated him’ and ‘never wanted to see him again,’ she would always, always say, “Love you, Cas” right before drifting to sleep, and he always said it back.

A year passed since the last time either of them had seen Sam or Dean Winchester alive, and then a year and half, then two; and slowly, slowly, things started to be okay again. Dean’s baby girl started high school and went with a boy to homecoming (she looked so much like her mother with her hair in an elegant braid, and so much like Dean with her excited emerald eyes; Castiel took pictures and placed copies in Sam’s and Dean’s bedrooms). When she got the flu for the first time, he did everything he could for her without an angel’s grace, and when Cas caught the flu from her, she did the same for him.

She got her license and took her father’s Impala for the first ride it had been on in five years, Cas sitting shotgun. They both teared up a bit when Led Zeppelin automatically started blaring through the speakers, but neither one would admit to doing so.

Castiel watched her graduate (she ranked third in her class), and afterwards hugged her in the auditorium in front of the other graduates so tight and for so long that she eventually groaned “Caaaas,” rolling her eyes in embarrassment. But she hadn’t really minded.

And now.

It was hard to believe that the young woman in front of him had once slept in his arms, weighing less than seven pounds. Now here she stood, a few weeks over eighteen years old and already off to change the world everyone always knew she would. He watched from the doorway with a solemn smile as she placed her final suitcase in the back of the Impala and slammed the trunk close before strolling up to him again, hands shoved in the pocket of her Stanford hoodie and green eyes darkened with bittersweet sadness.

For a brief moment, they stood wordlessly in front of the bunker, taking each other in and putting off the inevitable. It was Cas who finally broke the silence, running a hand across his jaw. “You had better call me as soon as you arrive. That way I’ll know you got into Palo Alto safely.”

She smiled a bit, turning her eyes downward. “Yeah, I know. I will.”

They shifted on their feet awkwardly, and she cleared her throat, tugging at the hem of her bright red hoodie bearing the name of her destination. “Think Uncle Sammy would be proud?” she asked quietly, not meeting Castiel’s eyes, which had only grown more intense with age, his crows’ feet crinkling as he managed a small smile.

“I know he would be very proud of you,” he answered, placing his hands on her shoulders.

Without a moment’s hesitation, she threw her arms around her honorary uncle’s neck and buried her face against the trench coat he still wore all these years later. Fuzzy memories of Dean and Sam resurfaced in her mind, along with more crisp and recent memories of the past six years she’d spent with Castiel, and suddenly, leaving Kansas seemed a lot harder than she’d thought. She squeezed her eyes closed in an attempt to keep away tears that fell anyway.

Cas immediately held her back just as tightly, reluctant to let go of his little girl—and she wasn’t even technically his. (But somehow, she was.)

I’m very proud of you,” he murmured, resting his head on top of hers and relishing the feeling of her presence. Who knew how long it would be before she was able to visit again? “And I know that your mother and father, and your uncle, too, wherever they are… I know they’re proud of you, as well.”

She nodded weakly against his shoulder before finally pulling away, attempting to be discrete as she wiped tears away from her cheeks. Letting out a shaky breath, she said, “I should probably hit the road soon…”

Castiel nodded. As hard as it was to say goodbye—it seemed he was always saying goodbye—he couldn’t wait for her to begin her first year at Stanford, for her to change the world the way only a Winchester can, only this time, she’d change the world with words and education instead of with blood and sacrifice. He forced himself not to walk after her as she got into the passenger’s seat of her (Dean’s) car and closed the door behind her, waving at him through the rolled-down window and revving the engine.

“Bye, Cat,” she smirked sadly, and Castiel watched the Impala pull away from the bunker and disappear onto the horizon.

It always comes down to BETH :D

*blah blah blah Beth is so dead blah she hasn’t been seen on set blah blah blah this is fact blah blah oh so legit blah BLAH*

Isn’t that what the predictions for every wrong death speculation looked like last season? lol

People have been predicting Beth’s death for 3 seasons now so please excuse me if I sound bored and disbelieving of this crap *yawn*

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Oh my god, what if Simmons had a boyfriend, and the guy always went to Fitz everytime he wanted to give a gift to Simmons or something.

And then Fitz told the guy “oh she likes this like that or this thing blah blah” and the guy always went with the idea Fitz gave him, and obviously she loved it. 

and then simmons told the guy something like “Oh my god I love it! You know me so well” 

while Fitz was there like

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You're So White, Si-Si!

There’s a girl in my circle of friends who constantly says casually racist things, only to get extremely upset when I try to tell her that it makes me uncomfortable. She says things to me like, “You’re so white. You’re white on the inside.” or “It’s weird you don’t like watermelon”  or “you’re the most white black girl I know” and blah blah. She’s kind of the ringleader, so most of the rest of the group goes along with it—even the only other black person in the group (who beams happily when she receives the same comments). I’ve decided a long time ago that I want to distance myself from them. It really angers me that people in this country have been taught that black people should all act a certain way, or else they’re trying to be something they’re not. This is not okay. I don’t want to be compartmentalized into the media’s skewed idea of “blackness”. I am proud of my history, and to have someone invalidate it with a comment as simple as “You’re so white” is vastly frustrating.

[Submit your experiences here]

I’m angry.

For the record, Rebecca Hawkins doesn’t need to be ‘appreciated’ more — she needs to be taken for what she is, an overly forward, uncomfortably young child who was only included in the anime for the sheer purpose of making Yuugi uncomfortable and introducing a sort of “love rival” character for Anzu — and for some reason, despite the main characters being 17 years old at the point of her introduction, Rebecca is only 12. That’s not cute in the way a 12-year-old crushing on an older guy is supposed to be. She literally rubs herself on him and doesn’t listen when he says no. That’s not okay. Why are we supposed to be appreciating her more?

Plus the same post included Yuugi himself in a list of characters it’s ‘ok to like but female characters shouldn’t be bashed’ blah blah. ??? Have you seen any fanfiction website? Yuugi is the most horribly-written, ill-treated character out of any of them. Anzu gets treated awfully, yeah, and ‘anzu bashing’ is like some sort of secret code to get more readers somehow, but christ. Never once have I seen Yuugi glorified to the point that a female character’s importance has been cut out - it’s always Atem/Yami or Seto Kaiba that’s taking that spotlight. Including him just because he’s male? 

And don’t even get me started on Ishizu’s lack of tact with the whole Battle City thing. She basically orchestrated the whole fiasco, which led to dozens of people getting hurt. She didn’t care about the innocent bystanders who ran into Malik’s hunters. She basically sacrificed the safety of a bunch of younger kids to satisfy her own needs. Is this ever brought up in fic? Hell to the no. Her redeeming quality seems to be that she would go to such great lengths to save her brother, but that’s never treated as a bad thing. Where’s the fic exploring her potential as, you know, a failed hero or something? Where’s the guilt, the penance? Why is she always written as a ~*mysterious saint*~?

Don’t even get me started on Kisara. Oh man.

Real list of characters who get under-appreciated due to The Ships:

  • Yuugi Mutou. No, really. You point me in the direction of one single piece that doesn’t write him off as a stereotypical uke in a homosexual relationship. Give me an actual fic that focuses on his and Anzu’s relationship - and not just their break-up as means for him to move on with the gay ship of the fic. And not just tiny bits and pieces of their past or future. Actual development of their relationship that doesn’t focus on some illness that has been brought into the picture. Yuugi is the character whose traits get ignored the most to make him fit into a bland stereotype in basically every fic. Even the finer points of his interactions with male characters, the very basis of their relationships, get ignored just so Yuugi can appear a little more feminine and dainty. Ugh.
  • Anzu Mazaki. I repeat, anzu bashing. Why is that a thing? Why is that okay? Why is her past with Yuugi never explored? They’ve known each other for years, he has obvious feelings for her — but she’s always chasing some other guy in fic, I guess because somehow her having a crush on ‘the other Yuugi’ before she learns they’re different people equates to her not caring at all about her childhood friend?? Did nobody pay attention to the fact that Anzu was the one who told him that it was okay for him to exist just how he is, that he doesn’t need to change for anyone? And why is Seto Kaiba the only other person she gets shipped with??? Are we just gonna ignore her amazing friendship with Jounouchi forever???
  • Hiroto Honda. He’s a romantic guy who loves dogs and would go to amazing lengths for his friends. You’d think he’d get a little more love in the fandom, but no. He’s somehow written off as comic relief? When in reality, he’s the one who’s been there for Jounouchi. He’s the best friend who knows the dark details of Jou’s past, things that Yuugi doesn’t even know. He’s the one who went six hours round trip to help a scared little girl reunite with her big brother at his own expense, and while he’s a bit rough around the edges himself, he is always there to keep Jou on the right track when he gets worked up. He put himself in incredible danger by storming an actual known gang hangout by himself, and yet he’s still too shy to ask out the girl he likes. Just. Can we stop ignoring him? The only people who claim to be fans of his tend to ship him with Otogi for their comic relief sessions in the anime, and I ain’t touchin’ that with a ten-foot pole.
  • Katsuya Jounouchi. I’m gonna start off here by saying that it’s okay to interpret his relationship with his father however you see fit. In my opinion, I do not believe his father is actually abusive — judging by how much he still loves and idolizes the guy, how he tries his best to repair their relationship instead of getting away. We can argue hours about human psychology on this one, but I’m gonna say his friends wouldn’t just let him live with the guy if there were a real reason to be worried, especially since Jou was strong enough to get out of other abusive relationships in the past. But moving on to Jounouchi himself, what the hell. His total devotion to his friends is never a thing when he’s shipped with Kaiba. A lot of his emotional problems are never brought to light, either. There’s only arguing, no understanding, and the very core of Jounouchi’s character development is discarded in favor of making him some sort of suicidal mopey loser who is somehow cured by sex that is rather shady in the area of consent. The point of his character is that you can learn to like yourself, so to focus on the opposite is just… Can we please have some proper characterization so that he’s not blatantly wrong in every fic ever?
  • Mokuba Kaiba. His strengths, the lengths to which he’d go to save his brother, are never explored. He only exists to be kidnapped or used as leverage against Seto. We’re all just gonna ignore that, at 12 years old, this kid snuck onto a private island and robbed people, unarmed, to defend an enormous corporation and his brother’s name? We’re also gonna ignore how his first encounter with Yuugi went down, or how much he grew to trust his brother’s mortal enemy after the events at Death-T and Duelist Kingdom? This kid kicks ass and would probably pull a glock on anyone who so much as looked at him the wrong way.
  • Mai Kujaku. Because the anime decided to shiptease her so much with Jou and then with Doma Arc Guy I Can’t Be Assed To Remember, she basically lost all her badassness and was turned into some sort of trophy to be won. I’d like to take a moment to point out that she met and hung out with a bunch of teenagers, and that’s okay! Making friends outside of your age group is A+! She remembers what it’s like to have fun with friends, while she provides them with food and her preparedness! Yeah! Cool! Now, in the manga, the boys were obviously entranced by the fact that she had boobies (as boys are wont to be), but it was kept to a minimum. In the anime, her relationship with Jou reached Mega Creepy levels - she’s 24, well versed with how the world works, why did they try to make it a thing?? Sure, later in life, a 7-year age difference isn’t much, but when one party is still in high school, you gotta kinda step back and rethink things, okay? Can we talk about how much she teaches everyone? How much she learns from Yuugi and Atem, and what she gives in return? How much she treasures Jou’s friendship? How giddy she is about Anzu and Yuugi’s relationship and how precious it is? How she doesn’t have to be someone’s piece of ass to be a great character?
  • Shizuka Kawai. Yes thank you again anime. Let’s make the little sister into nothing but the catalyst for comedic situations and completely turn her into a quiet perfect little angel to be won. Let’s ignore the fact that she, too, was affected by her parents’ divorce. Why don’t we talk about how much she believes in her brother? You can’t tell me she didn’t have her suspicions while he was with Hirutani. Why didn’t she want her father to know about how bad her eyesight was getting? She knew it would upset him - and she, in her own way, is trying to protect her family from the things that will further tear it apart. And can we talk about how ridiculous she is? Just. How she cheered so much for Jou even when he wasn’t doing his best, wholeheartedly believing in him and letting him know that? Nahh. She’s just there for Otogi and Honda to fight over, I forgot.

You can claim that a character is under-appreciated and hate on others all you want. I understand that everybody has their opinions. But you gotta try to make a point along with it.

Please understand that many of the characters you see written in homosexual relationships that ‘further the female character erasure in this fandom’ are being treated just as badly as the ones who are being ignored. And that sometimes, the people who include the females treat them badly as well. I can’t count the number of times I’ve opened fic in hopes that it’d be something good, only to find my favorite ladies AND men shoved into stereotypical married-couple life with absolutely no flare of their real character included.

Female characters are not the only ones pushed aside in shipfic. Important male friendships are also torn apart and ignored in favor of one party going off in pursuit of gay sex. Important friendships, period, are ignored. Anzu doesn’t exist in puzzle fic. Yuugi doesn’t exist in puppy or pride fic. Who the hell is Honda? Proper characterization is optional!

I’m gonna get so many angry messages saying that I completely miss the point, and that females are completely ignored and it’s unhealthy for younger girls in fandom who are just searching for representation. Which is… not the point. Because as a very young girl in another fandom, I happened to notice these VERY SAME TRENDS. I loved the hell out of the ladies from the series, but they were honestly written better in fic than any of the male characters. The fics including them were few and far between, but at least they didn’t have their very base character traits destroyed for the sake of forcing them into a relationship that wouldn’t function in the way it was presented.

brucefrombrucesworldadventures said:

>ECH CONTINUE HEREH. "I do." Bruce stated in response to the question. And scourge was like, "I know pronounce you two married." >*fwooooo* Heavens to Betsy!

[[ sORRY I WAS REAL BUSY XDD ]]

Amy smiled brightly and kissed Bruce out of happiness. And then there was a party and blah, blah you get the point.

[[ I am amazing at narrating aren’t I?! ]]

Immature Start to My Week

Mom: blah blah septic system problems bleh

Me: “I’m sorry. That stinks.”

image

Mom: *suspicious + smirk*

Me: “… that must have really pissed you off. That’s a crappy way to start the week. Talk about life going in the crapper!”

Mom: “Are you done?”

Me: “…”

Her: “…”

Me: “Do you ever feel you’re just being dumped on?”

Okay so...

I was gonna go to the movies tonight with my aunt and cousins and I was going to wear a T-shirt with some jeans. No earnings, no hair clips or bands, no fancy-ass shoes, nothing like that. I looked like a guy (well, that’s what my aunt said…). My aunt told me to dress more “Lady-like”. Then like, blah blah blah, she started yelling at me because I was not wearing earrings. FUCKING EARRINGS. Lemme tell you something. I absolutely DO NOT LIKE EARRINGS. I don’t like wearing nail polish, don’t like shopping, don’t like wearing skirts and dresses. I don’t like anything like that. Hell, I can’t even make friends at my HOMEROOM because I didn’t like the things my peers liked. Man, I’m so mad and confused and sad and annoyed right now. Also, after school ended my aunt asked me “Do you have a crush on a guy yet?”. She asks me that EVERYDAY she picks me up from school. I always reply with “No, I don’t like boys.” But today I told her that and she said
“Well, you better not like girls.”
“I don’t like girls either…”
“Make a choice already, is it boys or girls?” Man, did she make me flip out. I freaking yelled “I DON’T LIKE ANY GENDER I’M FREAKING SO CONFUSED RIGHT NOW JUST STOP ASKING ME THAT.” Whelp, now I’m sitting on my bed and my head hurts and I wanna cry but I can’t and my throat feels dry and I just feel like shit.
Sorry if I annoyed you guys, just wanted to let that off my chest…

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