this one just annoyed me

stardust--erso  asked:

Hiya! Just wanted to come and say thanks for being a safe spot for reylo shippers. I used to ship reylo until I got bullied out of it. People said I was condoning abuse. Like guys, they're fictional characters... no one's getting hurt. Idk it just annoys me how antis try to generalize all people who ship a couple as "bad people" who are okay with abuse. Sorry for the rant. I guess what I'm trying to say is I don't know what to ship anymore. ):

You know, you can ship whatever the hell you want. You know you’re not hurting anyone by enjoying a couple of fictional characters, and antis can pontificate as much as they want, but I won’t be told what do think.

You are in charge of your experience. No one else. If you want to ship reylo? Ship reylo! If you want to ship Stormpilot or Kylux or HanLeia or FinnRose, ship away! I won’t judge you.

And it’s helpful to remember: The people that mind don’t matter, and the people that matter don’t mind.


This instagram user has been reposting other artists work and claiming that they made them. I blocked them and tried to report them but wowowee is this annoying 😤😤😤

(art in that screenshot includes works from @amethystocean-adr @deadlandsqueen @beccadrawsstuff)

anonymous asked:

What if, in your vampire au, Ardyn meets Alucard from the Hellsing Abridged? This would probably end in a total mess, right before the eyes of Ravus and Victoria, don't you think? - Barbecue anon

I mean…

You’re trying to tell me that Ardyn and Abridged!Alucard aren’t the same character???


whenever i can’t draw i always default to these losers in a shoujo-manga au.

@therapists: could u pls just aknowledge that mental illness actually exists and that I’m not being difficult just to annoy you and that it’s not a personal attack if my years long suffering isn’t cured after one session with you

like… I’m trying man and I know my behaviour isn’t always logical and that my patterns are unhealthy but I can’t just snap out of it because that’S NOT HOW BRAINS WORK

Can I just say that I love my mutuals?

Literally everyone I follow who is commenting on this whole Jinmin thing is defending Jin. And damnit, I appreciate that.

Oh and for the record, if you think Jin is in the wrong for this, you’re wrong. It was a bit cringy, I agree, but I hope you all realize that Jin has been on the receiving end of that (and countless other) rude jokes since the beginning of time.

I agree with the belief that Jimin is Not a delicate flower that can’t handle shit, and how Rude of anyone to even imply that. He’s a strong and grownass MAN that has come so freaking far in his self confidence and for anyone to say that one of his best friends making a joke about this (DURING A GAME OF INSULTS AND PURPOSEFUL NEEDLING) would crush his soul or something is just beyond ridiculous.

Jin apologized, Jimin was Very clearly not upset, and their best friendship is intact.

(And if you’re really still pissed at Jin, go count all the times Jin has been called a pig, or fat, or ugly (bonus points for never getting any sort of apology), and then come back to me and we can talk.)

Can I just remind people that many bisexual and pansexual people, myself included, use gay as an umbrella term for all people attracted to the same sex and we use it as a descriptor for our and everyone’s same sex attraction because it’s specific to that part of our identity. So please stop policing me for using gay to describe my and characters’ same sex attraction. Using gay as an umbrella term is not the same as invalidating and erasing a bi/pansexual person’s identity.

Ugh. One of my least favourite tropes in fiction is Good Guy Gaslighting. 

You know the drill. Heroic Main Character is part of some Underground World (hidden society of vampires/clones/faerie etc) that needs to be kept Top Secret.

Then oblivious Side Character (most often love interest), who is kept in the dark for Their Own Safety starts to catch glimpses of the Secret World. Maybe they see someone survive an attack that should have killed them, maybe they see someone do magic. Whatever it is, they freak out, and go to The Main Character to tell them this crazy thing they’ve seen.

And of course, of course, the Main Character who Knows Best and is doing it For Their Own Safety, assures them that they were seeing things, and totally mistaken, and it’s OK, they’re not crazy, but maybe they just need to take it easy?

And so it continues for however many episodes the writers decide to drag out the ‘let’s watch this character believe they’re going mad as the main character deliberately encourage that perception for their own ends’.

I just hate it so much because it is, at the core of it, gaslighting. It’s deliberate, cruel gaslighting but because it’s done For Their Own Safety by the Heroic Main Character, it’s never condemned and is regularly used as a plot device.

A little something something in honour of Jared-in-tight-Tshirts day

“Jesus, Sammy,” says Dean, “did that shrink in the wash?” It wouldn’t be the first time. Laundromats are always a slightly unstable quantity. Dean’s lost all kinds of beloved clothing over the years. (The Stanford T-shirt Sam mailed him during his first semester at college. A vintage Iron Maiden tour T-shirt he’d picked up for cents at a Goodwill in Philly. Shreds of pink satin, six months after Rhonda Hurley, pulled and pocketed surreptitious from a malfunctioning machine outside Cleveland.) 

Sam looks down at his chest, at the logo straining tight across the taut-pulled fabric. “No-oo?” he says. Dean raises an eyebrow. 

Two patches of pink blossom rosy over Sam’s cheekbones. “I went shopping,” he says, “the other weekend. In Kansas City. When I went to see that film.” 

“Yeah,” says Dean, carefully neutral. 

“Well,” says Sam. “The sales assistant. Uh. I did think it was a little tight but.” He rubs a hand over the back of his neck. The movement tugs the T-shirt even tighter, emphasising the curved lines of Sam’s pecs, the rounded swell of his bicep. “Threw it in half-price,” he mumbles. “Said it would be a shame.” 

Dean’s amused, mostly. Sammy’s taste in clothes is… idiosyncratic. He can’t imagine his brother in the kind of boutique that might sell him something like this. He tries to picture her, the salesgirl, heart-eyed over this big scruffy scarecrow. She was probably tiny, tiny and glamorous and young. 

“Lady-killer,” he says. 

Sam turns pinker, looks up to meet Dean’s eye. Aw, Sammy, Dean wants to say. He doesn’t quite understand how Sam can still be so clueless around women, so surprised every time he gets hit on. And it doesn’t sound like this chick was trying too hard to be subtle. Half-price. 

Then, “Who says it was a lady?” Sam says, and Dean’s world tilts a little bit sideways. The tiny blonde saleswoman in his head dissolves, resolving into a hard-bodied, chisel-chinned dude, a guy looking Sam up and down as he twists in the mirror. This isn’t. Dean doesn’t.

He blinks at his brother, open-mouthed, but Sam’s already shrugging, looking away. “Yeah, I don’t know. You’re right, it’s… I’ll go take it off.”

“Hey, no,” Dean says without thinking, his own cheeks heated now, tingling-flush with an indefinable anxiety. “Leave it, Sam. It looks good.” 

Sam wrinkles his nose. 

“Really,” Dean says. His eyes skitter again over Sam’s chest, the breadth of his shoulders, the veins that twist down his arms. “You look good,” he says.

It was dark, the room glowing every shade of blue; flashy, neon lights leaking rainbows through the walk-out windows. Alec was draped across the bed - the wrong way round, head at the end - the moonlight catching in his hair, sheets tangled around him, his focus on the balcony.


“this may be the first time I’ve seen paris sober.”


Magnus. He was on the balcony pouring a drink, his unbuttoned jeans exposing the waistband of his boxers; bronzed skin more like silver in the pale light.


“well, this may be the first time I’ve seen paris ever,” Alec mumbled as he turned his head away, the side of his face pressed into the mattress. He traced a finger through one of the creases, mind wandering to earlier: both of them caught up in the sheets, fingertips grazing over hips; mouths hot and wet, pushing against eachother, pressing into skin; the crisp night air eventually cooling heated bodies, calming heavy breaths.




Alec shifted at the voice, once again facing the balcony where Magnus was stood expectantly, a shoulder leaned against the wall, glass of scotch in hand. He was silhouetted slightly, the city lights floating around him, sneaking into the room and framing him with colour.


“it’s good,” Alec decided, his voice low and quiet as he watched Magnus move towards him, ice clinking casually with each step. He let out an involuntary hum of content as he felt a hand run through his hair, ends pulling just barely as Magnus curled and then uncurled them round his fingers, one at a time. Alec could feel himself staring as the warlock skimmed a finger along the ridge of his collarbone, before going up his neck, and flicking off his chin gently; the sensation leaving a tickle in his throat.


“good,” Magnus murmured, the beginnings of a fond smile softening his face, starting at the corners of his eyes before working down to pull at his shadowed lips.


Poe x Rey | MIT roommates au,  where Rey, the genius-freshman with one of the highest IQ of the east coast, has to share an apartement with the smart and supportive, but sometimes sardonic, senior Poe Dameron (needless to say her first robot was named BB –Poe’s idea– and worked properly only after the eighth attempt)


why is no one talking about the fact that men in a muslim country (turkey) wore skirts and went to protest with women on the streets because a girl got raped and killed by a man ?

they went on the streets for the rights of the women.

muslim men did.