people better not give her shit about this

My Reaction When People Say They Hate Stefan

Originally posted by elittlejoia

Because he is a nice guy?

Because he treats people with respect and acknowledges their rights? 

Because he let Elena make her own choices?

Because he feels bad about his past and all the awful things he has done?

Because he (excluding Bonnie for this post) is the most selfless character on the show?

Because he frequently saves his brother and proves how much he loves him despite all the shit Damon gives him (their relationship is very one-sided)?

Because he is the voice of reason most of the time?

Because he tries to fix all of Damon’s mistakes?

Because he gives up his own happiness and safety to help others?

Because he was the only person (excluding Nadia) that treated Katherine with human decency when she was dying?

Because he overcomes all the shit and drama he is put through?

Because he always aims to be a better person and avoid hurting people?

Because no matter what he has a pure heart?

Because he understands what is and what isn’t acceptable?

Because he not only cared about Elena but also her family and friends and still cared about her and supported her (and her family and friends) when she left him for her brother? 

Because he is a complex character that went through actual development and has an intriguing story that the show is meant to be about? 

Originally posted by lastwordem

in light of that one interview i just want this scene
  • corrupted jasper writhing on the ground or s/t: we all get what we deserve, I deserved for this to happen
  • garnet, sitting placidly cross-legged on her shoulder: the hilarious thing is that's completely true but not for any of the reasons you think

i know a girl who thinks a lot

lost in her head, she spends most of her time day dreaming about what ifs could’ve beens.

she likes to think she knows whats right in the world.

she thinks she’s alone, she hurts herself in ways you wouldn’t understand. and when she cries herself to sleep at night it isn’t because of the pain she feels physically.

i know a girl who spends a lot of time by herself,

and when people ask her she makes up friends and tells them off, maybe even telling them she likes being alone

but there’s a difference between being alone and feeling lonely.

so in the past few days, she’s lessened her friend group down to five shiny new toys and a couple boys who don’t understand.

she doesn’t care anymore, not because she’s heartless, but because she’s trying to find ways terminate her stay.

so she breaks contact with those who don’t seem to care anymore,

she figures its better to stop giving two shits about people who don’t give one shit about her.

maybe she’s surviving, 

but it sure as hell isn’t for long.

FitzSimmons pregnancy headcanon

I sent this to @agentcalliope as I was falling asleep last night, and she has demanded that I share it here:

They keep it on the down low for a while.  Some Jews are superstitious about telling people too early and I can totally see Jemma being like “it’s better to be safe than sorry in this instance” and Fitz giving her so much shit for being superstitious.  While technically immediate family is okay, they still don’t tell their parents until a couple months in, after she’s showing (though only just).  It’s Fitz mum they tell first and it’s kinda impromptu.  Maybe it’s because they’re on the phone and she’s begging him to have dinner with his grandmother/aunt/estranged father when they’re in the states so that they’ll stop pestering her and Fitz is like “Fine, whatever, but there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.  Jemma’s pregnant.”



“You need to be happy for her.”


“She’s your best friend, Leo.”

“Mum, what are you on about?”

“Look, darling, I’m not an idiot.  I know how you feel about her.  But, please, she needs you to be happy for her.”

“Can…can you hold on a second?  Jemma!  Jemma!  …did we never tell our mums we got together?”

“…oh no…”


Stop writing about people who don’t give a shit about your poetry. Stop chasing after people who won’t even look at you when you’re bleeding your feelings out. You deserve so much better than this. You need to understand that you deserve more than you think you do. Don’t keep building bridges for people who aren’t looking to cross it.
—  something i needed to remind myself and others

Who cares about the presidential election at this at this point? Everyone is so worried about Trump winning for no reason. It’s not like Hillary is any better. The only difference between that bitch and Trump is that she’s better at concealing her true feelings in the face of the public. White people dont Give a shit about wether black people have jobs. Period. It doesn’t affect them, it affects us. Black people have nothing to gain from any elections in this country. We have a black man in office for God’s sake and that hasn’t changed shit. Our people are being shot every fucking day regardless of who our president is. Our struggles have not changed since Obama has stepped into office. We are still paying ridiculous amounts to get a college education, we are still suffering, there is still a huge lack of jobs, and people of color are still being discriminated against. Black people don’t have a voice when it comes to politics. But my question is… How do we have a black president, yet black people are still the most mistreated group in The United States. I’ll answer that. They don’t give a shit about black people and they never will. We can’t rely on these idiot politicians to change the outcome of our lives. We need to do that shit ourselves. We need to create jobs within our own community and educate ourselves. The only way to escape this cycle is to educate and empower ourselves.

anonymous asked:

So I forgot that people think/thought that Mor and the King of Hybern are mates was a thing... Mates are equals and the king looked at Mor and called her a prize, after making Az cry out in agony and distracting her from killing him (highfaelucien said something about it when it originally happened)

So I got this ages ago and somehow forgot to answer it oooooops

I had no idea people thought that they might be mates! But holy shit I hope that’s not true because EW EW EW GROSS

Mor deserves SO much better jesus h christ give her the moon and the stars and protect her at all costs

I reject this, like you said, mates are equal and there’s nothing like this in their relationship


i built a home for you, for me (this is a place where i don't feel alone)

{Because I am slightly evil and enjoy crushing people hearts with angst, I decided to be nice and give a New Years gift: a fluffy fic. A very fluffy fic.I hope everyone enjoys it and has a happy New Year. Let’s hope the 2015 will be full of promises, love, and a shit ton better than 2014.} 



She’s drunk. You don’t know how she even made it back to your dorm, she’s a stumbling mess. She opened the door and fell down while holding the doorknob. You sighed and helped her sit on her bed. Which is where you are now, helping her undress while she babbles about something. She smells like whiskey and vomit and you untie her shoelaces. You slip her boots off, unbutton her leather pants and yank them off. She starts laughing and you’re kind of creeped out; you’ve seen her drunk before but never this wasted.

You pull her shirt off and you slap her hands away from where they were trying to unbutton your shirt. She’s a giddy, drunken mess and you don’t know why or how she got so drunk but you know she’s had a bad day (she didn’t look so good this morning) and you guess it was rougher than you thought. The thought makes you feel like crap because she didn’t come to you and ended up self destructing.

You end up carrying her into the bathroom. You run a bath because she’s not really capable of standing up on her own and you could just hold her the entire time, but she’s been playing with your hair and speaking nonsense, and it’s been getting on your nerves. You might drop her just to annoy her.

After you get her into the tub, you sit on the toilet seat, brushing your teeth. She’s slapping the water and causing it to splash everywhere. You leave her and go to the wardrobe (the bathroom door’s open of course, you still need to hear for safety reasons) and change quickly, bringing a pair of flannel bottoms and t-shirt with you for Carmilla. When you walk back into the bathroom, she’s just staring at the wall. She turns to you and she looks like she’s going to puke.

Ah, crap.

You drag her out of the tub, sloshing water all over the floor and flick up the toilet lid. You stand behind her, holding her hair, while she throws up. You sit on your knees and put your hand on her shoulder and rest your forehead against her bare back. You follow the water droplets that are running down her back with your eyes. You drop a kiss on her spine and help her move away from the toilet. You flush it quickly. You somehow manage to dress her while she rests against the sink cabinet. You kiss her temple and help her stand up.

She’s a little wobbly but not as bad as before. You make it your bed, where she promptly falls face first into the sheets. You put her legs on the bed and she groans while you turn off most of the lights. You slip in the bed, squishing yourself between the wall and Carmilla, so she can get to the toilet quickly if she feels sick again.

You place your hand on the small of her back and fall asleep to the sound of her breathing.


“Carmilla, just give me it back!”

“No way in fiery hell, Sweet Cheeks.”

“Carmilla! Just give me!”



She laughs and pushes past you and jumps on top of her bed, holding your yellow pillow over her head like a trophy. You huff and walk towards her and she jumps in the air, hits you in the face with your pillow, and you faceplant on her bed. You hear a thud and her laughter, and when you look at her, she’s standing on your bed, hunched over in laughter.

The nerve.

You snatch one of the pillows off her bed and smack her in the knees. She collapses onto her knees and you hit her in the face with the pillow. While she recovers, you yank the yellow prize out of her hands and stand next to her bed, and you puff out your chest. She launches herself at you and slams into your stomach. You lose your breathe and you fall on her bed with Carmilla wrapped around your midsection. She starts tickling you and you screech (you’re surprised that no one has filed a noise complaint yet).

You struggle to get out of her grasp and she moves, so now she’s straddling you with her head tucked into your neck, tickling your sides and laughing against your skin. You, somehow, manage to push her off you and you attack her, so now she’s the one trying to escape. She’s kicking her legs into the air and tears are leaking out of her eyes and laughing in your face and she looks so carefree and eighteen again, and you wonder when was the last time she felt this young.

She pushes at your shoulders and you lunge over her and grab the yellow pillow. You quickly shuffle off of her and slide down the bed. You turn and you were going to jump to the safety of your bed, but she tackles your legs and you fall to the ground with a thud. She crawls up to you and she looks panicked (you guess you fell harder than she thought you would’ve), but when you laugh and tangle your hands in her curls, she softens and grins. You pull her down for a long kiss full of laughter and love.

You don’t know why she’s in a good mood today, but you’ll take her good days without complaint or question.

You’ll take her bad ones the same way.


You end up eating dinner on the floor, resting your back against Carmilla’s bed. She had gotten up and made you hot chocolate and grabbed an unopened packet of cookies for you, which is almost empty. She has a half a cup of blood and has eaten half a loaf of sliced white bread because, “I can eat whatever I want, cutie, and never lose this body. One of the perks of being immortal”.

You’re curled up against her side, munching away on a cookie and the yellow pillow is between your backs and the bed. She grabs another slice, folds it in half, and promptly devours it. You catch a sight of her fangs when she eats the bread.

She catches you staring and she looks at you in confusion. You trace her lips with your fingers and when she opens her mouth, you drag the pad of your finger down one of her fangs. When you look at her face, she looks expressionless but you see something that looks like fear in her eyes. You place your hand on the back of her neck, tangle your fingers in her hair, and kiss her hard. When you pull back, she kisses you on the tip of your nose and drinks some blood. You eat another cookie and Carmilla does her weird bread thing that’s secretly kind of cute and quirky, and you giggle a little about that.

She looks at you and looks perplexed, and you see that she had bread crumbs all over her shirt and face, and you laugh. You feel bad for laughing though, because she jumps at the sudden noise and you just breathed all your cookie breath in her face. She looks worried and her face is all scrunched up, and you brush the crumbs off her face and shirt. You shake you head and she offers you a slice of bread. You take it and rip of the crust and hand it to her. She laughs but takes it anyway, crushes the crust into a ball and eats it.

God, you’re so in love this this dork.


You’re standing in the doorway of your room with you mouth wide open. The beds are pushed together and, well, there’s a blanket fort. There’s only two lamps on and they’re in the dark blankets. You can see Carmilla’s shadow inside the fort. You have no idea what’s going on, but the fort looks freaking awesome.

“Uh, Carmilla?”

“Oh shit! You’re back already?” She slips out of the fort and looks at you wide eyed. Her hair is disheveled and her shirt is askew, letting you see a sliver of pale skin.

“Uh, yeah?”

“Damn, I misjudged the time,” She puts her hands on her hips and bites her lip.

“What is-how did you do this?” You gesture to the room; the furniture is everywhere and you’re sure that you didn’t have that many blankets in your dorm.

“I had the Ginger Squad help me out a bit with building it and the blankets. Xena’s long limbs were finally useful.”

“Ah,” you nod and stand next to her, looking at the fort in awe. “Why?”

“You said you were going to be a little late today and I knew you weren’t feeling so well.” She bites her lip again and you slide an arm around her waist and pull her into a long kiss. She pushes at you and chuckles. “Go get in it, Munchkin.”

You set down your bag and crawl into the fort. The lamps are dim and they give off an orange glow inside the space. You gaze around the space in awe and you notice LaF’s laptop is sitting on a pillow (not the yellow one, that one’s in the pile of pillow backrests). Carmilla slithers up next to you and you punch her lightly in the arm.

“You jerk, you didn’t have to do this!”

“Do you like it?”

“Yes I like it! But still, it must’ve been horrendous to make!”

“Well, as long as you like it, it’s worth it.” She grins and you see her fangs highlighted by the soft light. She curls up next to you and lays her head on your shoulder. You kiss her forehead and tangle you fingers with hers. “You wanna watch something? I convinced LaF to let me borrow their laptop for tonight.” You nod and grab the computer while Carmilla settles back on the mound of pillows. You curl up into her side and browse this one download LaF has on her pc, Show Box, for movies. She lets you pick the movie.

You pick The Fault In Our Stars.


You regret picking that one.


You wipe your tears and you catch Carmilla rubbing her eyes.

“I thought vampires didn’t cry.”

“I thought you were going to pick some romcom or something. Jesus, Cupcake, why did you pick that one?”

“Everyone said it was good.”

“Before or after the tears?! I pick next time.” You agree and sniffle. Carmilla’s eyes are shining and she looks a little distraught. You wrap your hand in her, no, your shirt. She looks over at you, leans over and wipes the tears off your cheek. She’s looking at you with a gleam in her eye, like you are the sun and the stars and the moon above and it’s making your chest ache.The light is glowing against her skin and her hair looks black and she is so beautiful, you will never get tired of looking at her.

You pull her into a kiss and her hands slip under your shirt, squeezing your waist. You roll over so you’re on top of her and she tangles her fingers in your hair and pulls you back to her mouth. Your hands slip under her shirt and run up and down her hard stomach. She moans and you roll your hips into hers, making her groan louder. You pull back from her mouth and take off her shirt, then yours, and you kiss her so hard, her head gets pushed far into the pillows.

You laugh because the image of her head being covered by pillows reminds you of an ostrich.

She gets the pillows off of her face and glares at you. You smile and cover your teeth with your hand.

“Shut up, Creampuff.”

“Alright, Ostrich.” She rolls her eyes and grounds her hips into yours and that makes you stop laughing. You push her shoulders into the mattress and she drags her nails down your back. You let out a throaty moan.

“Now who’s laughing?”


You’d never thought you’d have sex in a pillow fort.

You’d never thought you’d be dating a vampire, either.

You’re not really complaining.


You’re at a New Year’s party and everyone is waiting around for the ball to drop. You lean against Carmilla and she’s twirling your hair with her finger. You know she doesn’t really want to be here, so you ask her if she wants to go outside, and she replies quickly. You take her hand and lead her into the yard. The sky is clear and Carmilla watches the stars gleaming against the dark canvas. You rest your head on her shoulder and she wraps her arm around your waist.

You stay like that until you hear the countdown. You’re a little nervous; you’ve never been kissed on New Years, but when Carmilla is gazing at you, you’re not so nervous anymore. You hear the countdown finish and Carmilla swoops down and kisses you soundly. She is so gentle; her hands are on your face and she is kissing you like you’re her last breathe, and it reminds you of the first time you kissed back when she saved you. You break apart slowly and when you open your eyes, she still has hers closed.

You press your forehead to hers and she opens her eyes slowly. You notice they’re shining and you rub your thumbs over her cheekbones. She closes her eyes and you kiss her eyelids gently, then her forehead and nose. You place your forehead back on hers. She smiles softly at you and you drag your hands down her neck.

“You know I really love you, right?” She stills for a second, then you feel her nod against your forehead.

“And I you,” her breath dances across your lips, “I have never loved anyone greater than I love you. I have centuries of love to give, and you have it all.”

You kiss her because that was probably the most poetic thing anyone has ever told you. She chuckles quietly. “I guess this means I’m your drunken mess.”

“No, Carmilla, you’re my drunk. You’re not a mess.”

You hear the party going on behind you but being here, with Carmilla, is all you could ever ask for. She kisses you again with the moonlight shining against her cheekbones. You rest your head in the crook of her neck and you feel her raise your clasped hands. You place a hand on her shoulder and she has hers on your waist.

You begin the New Year waltzing in a grassy backyard, under the moonlight, wrapped in warmth that is Carmilla, and she smells like woodsmoke and new beginnings, and you think that this year will be the best you’ve ever had.


Oh hey

If you know me, I love birds a whole lot. I have two of my own!

The thing is, someone in my area need to rehome two dusky conures, who are bonded, and I really wanna give them a better home. (ie, someone who er… doesn’t see birds as ploys to get money. I hate people selling their pets.)

I need Literally any amount of money. My mom is iffy about giving me even a penny and I need to at least show her I’m willing to do what I can to help these birds.

The ultimate goal is $500, but even a dollar would help.


I will draw literally anything. Got an oc you want me to draw? Send me a ref, and I’ll do it. People, furries, eldritch horrors, I’ll draw it, nsfw or sfw. So no need to worry about me having any issues with it.

Full drawing, background and all: $5

Full body drawing…

            Just sketch: 50 cents

            Lineart: $1

            Colored: $1.50

            Pixel: $2


           Just sketch: 50 cents

           Lineart: $1

           Colored: $1

           Pixel: $1.50

All exta characters will double the price, unless you want a full drawing, then its only an extra $1.

Despite drawing sfw as well as nsfw, charging an extra $1 for porn drawings, depending on the complexity. If you need anymore examples, please don’t hesitate to message me! I went as cheap as humanly possible with these prices, as well, so price negotiation isn’t really a thing.


So, I went to a bookshop yesterday, just looking for something intetresting, when suddenly my eyes fell upon a book with asian (probably chinese?) woman and title “Soundless”. For a moment, I felt joy.

“Omg, a fantasy with deaf asian protagonist??? Give me that shit!”

My joy very quickly transformed to overhelming rage.

Oh no, this book isn’t about deaf protagonist. Sure, main hero lives in a village full of deaf people, but she is the CHOSEN ONE WHO CAN HEAR!!! Only one who can save these poor people, because she hears a call! (literally)

Much amazing. Such worldbuilding. Wow.

She must “save her fellow villagers from the curse that’s deafness and blindness!” (i am translating the czech cover, i dont have a clue what’s on english cover, but i bet it’s not much better)

And I am seriously SO. PISSED. OFF.

How DARE you, Richelle Mead (that’s the author - yes, she also writes some vampire books, i dont care)! How DARE you to take one of the most amazing linguistic phenomenas and use it in a shitty “asian”-like fantasy where “those poor deaf people suffer because deafness is shitty, right?”

 (because village sign languages are a real thing, yes)

Return to your fucking vampires and leave deaf people alone, would you?

What do you think about it, @andreashettle?

the shao/zeke/mylene conflict is upsetting my soul. like ofc mylene is dismissive of his music. hip hop is not a Thing yet and associated with a bad crowd and shit, so ofc from her standpoint it’s a distraction and an obstacle holding zeke back from his path to greatness. at the same time shao is recognizing zeke’s talent in a field that is not about making concessions to please rich white men who probably aren’t going to give him what he truly deserves. (the line about white people having nieces and nephews they’re going to promote first is SO REAL). mylene wants him to stop doing something that he’s good at & loves. shao wants him to stop trying to better himself (in the socio-economic sense) – he doesn’t know at this point that hip hop is going to be revolutionize the music industry and become lucrative. they both love him and want what’s best for him and they’re being selfish assholes and they’re making him choose and it’s HURTING MY HEART

I’m am abuse victim and knowing people ship Jessica and Kilgrave makes me feel genuinely sick.

don’t give a shit if you’re doing it because “oh the dynamic is interesting” would you say that to me about my abuser? don’t say that about abuse.

“oh he genuinely loves her”. yes. abusers do. it’s still abusive. my abuser loved me, for a time I loved him. that doesn’t make it healthy or good or redeeming in any way. fuck you.

“he doesn’t know any better” I’m sorry if you literally don’t know how to not force people to have sex, kill people, wet the bed or say ‘I love you’ that isn’t something to pity.

fuck. you.

“oh its interesting” bye. “I can ship what I want” bye. “it’s cute I love psychopaths!!!” double bye. take it from this psychotic person, we don’t like you. fetishistic dickbag.

it isn’t even in character for Jessica. she literally has ptsd triggered when she thinks about him how can you make that positive?

fuck off with your gross ass abuse apologist shit and get it out of my face and stop justifying it your disgusting things.

bunch a jacked up doctor who fan girls incapable of seeing David tenant play a villain and trying to redeem his literally abusive piece of shit character. he’s a good actor, a GREAT villain, but don’t try to redeem him.

And yet again people are twisting the last scene into an IR moment. Because god forbid that Ichigo and Rukia, while married to and having families with people that aren’t each other, stand together in a room without their circumstances being warped into something to suit the unhealthy and overly-reliant IR fanon. Business as usual.

“It’s really sad that Yhwach’s return marked the happiest moment in Ichigo’s life aka… not when he was married to Orihime, not when he had his child with her, but when Rukia returned to his life after all those years. I feel so bad for Renji and Orihime - they deserved better.”

First off, let’s not pretend like you give even a shit about Renji and Orihime. We know you don’t. Not one month ago you were waxing poetic about the both of them raising death flags, hoping and wishing they would die because you knew IR couldn’t be a thing while IH/RR loomed over the horizon. Don’t pretend like you care about them. It’s been fifteen years, we see through you.

Secondly, Ichigo says “Weren’t you supposed to bring your kid with you this time?” implying that yes, Ichigo and Rukia (and Renji!) have visited each other prior to the last chapter during the 10 year timeskip. If Ichigo seeing Rukia again is truly the “happiest moment of his life”, wouldn’t Yhwach have attacked long before this last chapter? Given the fact that he didn’t, I think that speaks for itself.

But lastly, did you ever stop to think that Ichigo’s happiest moment of his life would be being surrounded by his family and lifelong friends during an era of peace after years and years of fighting tooth and nail; to witness his closest friend attain greatness, to be in the presence of the woman he loves and his son, and to meet the child of his precious nakama? Did you ever stop to think for one second that any of these characters could attain happiness outside the very narrow scope of your shipping lenses? It’s not as if we don’t already know the answer.

  • me on a date: so how do you feel about janet van dyne?
  • them: oh, you mean hank pym's wife -
  • me, shrinking breadsticks with pym particles to fit as many as possible into my purse: sorry but i have to go home right now immediately

The scariest thing about Clinton’s gaffes this weekend (regarding the Reagan administration ‘starting a conversation’ about AIDS and telling people how they should react to Trump rallies) isn’t just that it reveals her as a person who doesn’t give a shit about the struggles of the marginalized

it’s that if you look at the way we teach people about, say, the progressive era, that’s how the history of popular struggle in America is taught.  We learn nothing about the movements that fought for better working conditions, better hours, better pay, we learn that politicians saw these movements, and more often saw people dying, and were moved to make change out of a sense of noble obligation.  The struggles of everyday people recede into niche versions of history, and we are taught that the only thing we can hope for is to attract the attention of elites through our actions and deaths.

The scary thing about Clinton’s statements is that that’s likely going to be how we’re going to teach the history of contemporary movements in a couple of decades.

Honestly, fanboys bitching about ghostbusters? Shut up. Let women and girls have this. Let us love it. Let us geek out. You don’t like it? Who gives a shit. You have had movies just like this made for you for decades. Now we get one and goddamnit what fucking babies you are to not just step back and let the people who are excited about this be excited.

My daughter loves Rose from Doctor Who, Hermione Granger, Rey, and now she gets lady Ghostbusters! And you better goddamn let her have this and let her love it. Stop shitting on things just because they are not for you.

“Orihime became a housewife for Ichigo. She deserves better! How are IHs satisfied by this shit?“

I goddamn swear, some people are annoying; can’t even go around without seeing this shit.

How in the world did you come to the conclusion that Orihime is a housewife? Please, enlighten me - how? You are so confident that she is a housewife and the people who hate her suddenly pitying her and echoing; ‘She deserved better’ when I am pretty sure most of you all didn’t give two shits about her. Antis are so very convinced that Orihime is a housewife and I am sitting here, wondering how they came into such result from one chapter. Oh, I know how!

Because she wore an apron.

Oh yes, the very sign of the housewife, right? Nevermind the facts that:

  • It could be on the weekends. Where I dunno, people take a rest from their work?
  • In everyone gathering event, mainly the girls set up the dishes and clean up the kitchen. So, Orihime could be doing that. You know, cleaning and stuff, so she wore an apron to not get her nice clothes dirty.
  • Just doing house chores. Does that make her a housewife? No.

My mom do the house chores and she cooks like a professional cook. Is she a housewife? No. She works the same length of my father.

Just because she wore an apron, does not automatically make her a housewife. For hell we know, it could be Ichigo who says, “Welcome home!” after Orihime says, “I am home!”

Until Kubo confirms so, stop saying Orihime is a housewife like it’s a fact. It’s not.

Apron =/= Housewife.