“Belle is the feminist princess so much better than Cinderella who is a bad role model for girls!”

Oh. Oh really

So she was a bad role model when she:

  • Stood up to her abuser twice
  • Didn’t whine or moan about only getting until midnight at the ball
  • Used the derogatory name her abusers had given her to proudly announce herself to the prince because she wouldn’t let them win
  • Remained kind and courageous through the abuse she endured
  • Worried more about the man who delivered her the news about her father’s death than herself (”that must have been very difficult for you”)
  • Forgave her abuser, because she knew continuing to stay mad would only bring her down.
  • Felt sorry for how her stepsisters because of what they had become due to their mother
  • Had just had her mother’s dress destroyed and the chance of meeting her only friend taken away from her, but still cared for the beggar woman who asked for some milk
  • Didn’t try to hide who she was for the prince
  • Told a man of wealth off for hunting after a stag - “just because its what’s done doesn’t mean its what should be done!”
  • Cared for all her animals

A female character doesn’t just have to punch things and not wear a corset to be a good role model. I love Belle, but don’t dismiss Cinderella when she’s just as good as a role model as Belle!

(also feel free to add what I have missed!)

‘I loved her not for the way she danced with my angels, but for the way the sound of her name could silence my demons.’ — Christopher Poindexter. 

MAKE BOY’S WONDER WOMAN CLOTHES.

SHOW BOYS IN WONDER WOMAN CLOTHES IN YOUR ADS AND COMMERCIALS.

BOYS CAN AND SHOULD IDOLIZE WOMEN.

THANKS

Tumblr is such a negative place. Every damn time I get on this site, opinions on [some celebrity] have changed.
#bae one day and #awful the next.

EVERY SINGLE CELEBRITY IS PROBLEMATIC. No one is perfect. But when someone says or does something wrong, make a note of it and explain why it wasn’t okay then move the fuck on.

I’m really tired of feeling like I need to hate people.

Role Models

Marinette is sent to the Principal’s office.

This piece is apart of a gift exchange with the loveliest group of people! Not only did I have this beautiful piece of art gifted to me by the awesome @yunyin, but it felt like each and every piece of art and fic that came out of this exchange was a gift for us all! So a big thank you to the amazing @baneismydragon for this wonderful idea that really helped spread some much needed cheer!

And on that note! I was assigned to create something for the sweetest of the sweets, @sweet-childhood-dreams! We recently were discussing some ideas and this fanfic is based on one of Lisa’s hilarious ramblings! I hope you don’t mind me using it as a prompt Lisa! (But I just couldn’t resist! :3)

(ao3 link)

Marinette wondered how it had come to this.

There she sat, her back rigid straight, while before her the Principal continued on with her lecture.

She didn’t know what to do with her hands, and it was bothering her to no end. Placing them on the Principal’s desk seemed inappropriate. She tried crossing her arms against her chest but that seemed too rebellious and defensive. Resting them on her lap, one on top of the other, didn’t seem to work either as the sudden weight of them and the feeling of her sweaty palms made her squirm. Eventually she gave up, propping an elbow on her armrest, while her left hand swung idly by her side over the side of her chair.

Once she had finally settled, she was better able to focus on the situation at hand, listening in intently in shock and frustration as the Principal continued with their slightly judgemental speech…

Marinette could feel her body stiffening as with each remark she became more and more defensive and she tried to control her anger as the chiding continued. Her hands locked into fists—

—Until she felt a sudden nudge against her wrist. Out of view from the Principal’s eyes and under the table, a hand reached for hers. Marinette turned to her partner in crime, meeting his bright green eyes as he offered her a small smile. She relaxed, her hand unwinding as their fingers tangled. Her ring knocked against his as they held onto each other.

They found comfort at one another’s touch and while their nerves still plagued them. But as always, they were more than willing to face their next challenge as a team. He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, to which she easily returned.

Emma had gotten into a fight.

“…So you can see why we have called you here today,” the Principal continued, to which the couple nodded. “Emma’s behaviour today was quite alarming—”

“She’s never done anything like this before!” Marinette interrupted before turning to look at Adrien who frowned, bringing his free hand up to the back of his neck. “Well…not like this at least.”

“Well, that being said, I thought it best to have the two of you join me today.” said the Principal, even in her soft reassuring voice, the underlying impression she gave was vast disappointment, bordering on condescension. Marinette’s hand tightened around Adrien’s. “It seems that the catalyst for this incident is that Emma has been telling lies at school and when confronted about it, things became physical.”

Marinette gasped. If she had taught her children anything, besides how loved they were, she had hoped it would been that truthfulness was always the better path than lying.

“I’m sorry,” Adrien asked, interrupting her thoughts. She turned to look as his brows furrowed in confusion, “But what do you mean by ‘confronted’?”

“Well,” the Principal said, “she’s been telling the other students that her parents are Ladybug and Chat Noir.”

Immediately, the pair froze, dropping their hands, before looking at one another, mouths agape.

A single beat of silence past.

“I…well—ummm…” Adrien tried his best to form a response, but like Marinette, who had slowly brought a hand up to cover her mouth, he had no way of properly forming a reply.

“You can see how preposterous this whole thing is,” the Principal went on, misinterpreting their shock, “which is why I think it’s important we have this discu—”

“WE WERE ROLEPLAYING!”

Marinette stared at her husband, hand falling back to her armrest as her cheeks burst into flame. She gazed back at the Principal who had paused mid-speech.

Trying to find a way to make Adrien’s sudden outburst in anyway appropriate, Marinette tried in vain to find her voice. “Um, well, you see…” she squeaked, hoping with all her might to dig themselves out of this awkward hole Adrien had thrown them headfirst into.

However in her flustered state, her mind was blank. “We were…” she brought a hand up to her forehead, brushing back her bangs and instinctively reaching to pull on a pigtail that was no longer there. Instead she ran a hand through her short hair, and tried once more, “We, uh…we were…”

“…roleplaying?” Adrien finished for her with a shrug and she turned to glare at him. He grimaced.

The Principal remained silent, her own mouth open in shock and Marinette brought a hand up to her face in complete mortification.

“Right…” Adrien continued, and Marinette peeked out from behind her hand to see him visibly sweating, staring at the ground, “errr, we were roleplaying… ” emphasizing the word in such a way that if Marinette thought she could pass this off as a cosplaying endeavour, she was sadly mistaken. In her head she screamed, begging for him to just stop talking.

But he didn’t.

“And we had just started—thankfully—” and he balked at the implication, “I mean! We had just gotten into our costumes! We hadn’t done anything like that yet.”

Marinette kicked him under the table. He flinched.

“W-well,” he continued, bending down to rub his shin, “we were just about to—well, I mean, we were dressed up and the children came in—”

Marinette couldn’t watch. She held her head in her hand in embarrassment as she cut him off.  There was nothing left to do now then roll with it.“—and they thought we were the real Ladybug and Chat Noir!” she said through bared teeth.

“Right!” Adrien agreed, straightening in his chair as if suddenly happy to see some reinforcement on Marinette’s part on their unbelievable tale. “…So,” he continued, “from that day…we’ve, uh, we’ve been doing it more often!”

Silence engulfed the office once more as Adrien’s face turned redder and redder, matching Marinette’s own blushing complexion.

“I MEAN!” and his voice rose in pitch, reminding Marinette of a flustered Chat Noir from their younger years—something she would have looked back on fondly if not for their current situation. “I mean the dressing up part!”

Marinette turned to him, slowly allowing for him to see the darkest glare she could muster. A glare that demanded him to stop talking. “Dressing up for the kids,” she clarified.

“Yes, yes! We dress up as the heroes for the kids!” said Adrien. And Marinette nodded, until he continued, “…not for the other thing.” Marinette immediately stopped nodding along. But even then Adrien continued, “You know the rolepl—”

“You know what!” the Principal cut him off, clasping her hands together on top of her desk, “I think we’ve covered the matter!” And she continued on, awkwardly trying to divert the conversation back to how this whole debacle was merely rooted in an odd misunderstanding. She went on with a new lecture, this one with a recommendation that the couple have a long talk with their children about the difference between playtime and reality.

Marinette tried to focus, to be the good, proper parent and look as if she were taking this whole matter very seriously. If anything, she was hoping that they could move past this whole situation and burn the last five minutes of conversation from their memories. If only she could Lucky Charm their way out of this. Instead she felt as if Adrien had done a rather effective job of Cataclysm-ing the entire meeting.

She could feel his eyes on her, and she stubbornly tried to ignore him, even as he moved his chair closer to her side. That familiar touch on her hand returned once more and while she initially flinched away from him, she quickly acquiesced, letting out a sigh.

Eventually, she peeked up at him from the corners of her eyes, feeling the blush rise back up to her cheeks—this time not of embarrassment. It was a blush that reminded her of her younger self and a younger version of the man beside her.

She watched as a corner of his mouth tweaked upwards. And she could tell he was holding back a grin as his eyes twinkled in the victory of catching her gaze. She returned his stare with a fluttering feeling in her chest and he had the gall to wink at her. The action knocked her from her swooning as she remembered herself, remembered him, and worst of all remembered what he had done. She glared at him once more, hoping to silently communicate to him that they were not done with this discussion.

He pressed his lips together to suppress his smile and whereas before such an action might’ve caused her knees to buckle and heart to flip, now it just added to the fire in her eyes and the scowl on her face.

It wasn’t until later on that that look came back to haunt Chat Noir as he leapt through the City, laughing in a mixture of delight and fear as his Lady followed him, hot on his tail.

Rainbow land crabs are the official mascots of Pride Month! These clever crustaceans were chosen for their many similarities to members of the gender and sexual minority alliance, like: a bisexual’s ability to dig comfortable homes in moist soil, a bright blue carapace common to so many nonbinary genders, and very obviously the glistening red maxillipeds sported by both gays and lesbians.

6

“As a first-generation Japanese American, I’ve always wanted to play a samurai warrior like my Suicide Squad character, Katana. Samurai are almost always male, so growing up in America I had a hard time figuring out role models. Katana and I may not have the same personality, but coming from the same cultural upbringing, we share core values.

In Japanese culture there’s this idea of putting others before yourself, but I’ve also never wanted to let myself down. Someone recently told me how refreshing it is to see an Asian woman as a superhero. That stuck with me. Stand up for yourself and what you love.” - Karen Fukuhara, Suicide Squad (2016)