♡ IF YOU LOVE SOMETHING, SET IF FREE, BUT DON’T BE SURPRISED IF IT COMES BACK WITH HERPES ♡
Claire Keane

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I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
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we're not kids anymore.

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$LAYYYTER

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@mydadsucks69
♡ IF YOU LOVE SOMETHING, SET IF FREE, BUT DON’T BE SURPRISED IF IT COMES BACK WITH HERPES ♡
If Tsukiyama and Kaneki were women
Lès bien
Okay but look at this gif I found
Juuzou: I like to keep my metabolism on it’s toes
Juuzou: Like, what’s it gonne be today? Complete starvation or 6,000 calories?
Beyond leaving Wammy's House
tfw you’re miserable bc you killed everyone you ever loved but at least you’re god now // a ‘Light Wins in the End’ playlist about regret
a sequel playlist to bops for when you become god of the new world // a ‘Light Wins in the End’ playlist (click here for the post about it)
“The priest and the friars Approach me in dread Because I still love you My love and you’re dead”
Kira’s New World has been around for a while now, but Light’s finding that he’s sort of bored. Or at least, he visits L’s grave more than he’d like to admit.
Proving a point to my boyfriend.
PLEASE REBLOG if you (male or female) believe it is perfectly okay and natural for a guy of any age to cry
I’ve never hit reblog faster or harder.
i will be honest, sometimes in obata’s official art Light IS drawn with similar body proportions to like fucking Pennywise. His arms shouldn’t be that long. He’s not a sewer clown. He doesn’t need the reach.
i’m crying
Task force watching L and Light eat dinner through the cameras and Matsuda is like “Aw it’s kind of sweet to see them both use chopsticks for their noodles! They really are so alike!” And then Aizawa just deadpan zooms in on L’s bowl which is filled with Fruit by the Foot that he’s delicately eating with chopsticks.
Everyone goes wild a minute later when he lifts a long berry strip, offers it to Light and they all watch their boss’ son get tenderly fed fruit leather by the world’s greatest detective.
Please don’t assume there’s a deeper meaning to this bc of the lyrics I just really like Lana Del Rey
the only thing i knew about sex at the age of nine was that
1) it was for mommies and daddies who were married;
2) it made me, my five year old sister, and my baby brother.
i learned everything i knew about sex from the internet while secretly browsing grownup sites on my 4th generation ipod touch i earned for doing so well at a piano recital. because of the nature of, you know, men and their internet porn, i learned that my sexual role as a woman was to be slapped and pissed on and tied up. i didn’t know what healthy sex was. i didn’t know it should be mutually consensual, or that it was okay to want sex with girls. i didn’t know that sex should be good for both people. i learned that sex would hurt, and that sex was about men and men only, and that i would be forced into sex whether i liked it or not, and that it was normal to have sex with big, burly, grown men as a teenager. i learned it was normal to cry during sex. i was scared of sex for so many years because of that, and the way i was exposed to sex at a young age led to the inappropriate and traumatic sexual encounters i had (occasionally with older people) later on in my teen years.
the day i got my first period, i was ten-and-a-half. i was swimming in the river with my best friend, and when i got out to go to the bathroom, i noticed brown blood on the inside of my mint-green tankini bottom. i knew what a period was, but i hid it from my mother in shame. she found out, eventually, of course. she told me, you have a woman’s body now, and if you have sex, you could have a baby. all i heard was, you have a woman’s body.
i started shaving my vulva when i was eleven, because i saw memes on memegenerator about how disgusting “hairy pussy” was. i wanted to be sexy. i was eleven years old, and all i wanted was to be sexy. it hurt, and it itched, and it made me uncomfortable, and i’d sometimes nick my labia with the razor, but i did it anyway, because i didn’t want to have a nasty, “hairy pussy.”
eleven was the age i first started getting pinched on the EL. i was an early bloomer: i had B-cup breasts already, and my menstrual cycle was regular enough that i could keep a calendar. i started wearing a full face of makeup to school and buying shorts that rode all the way up my skinny twelve-year-old thighs. i remember the day i stopped jumping off the swings the summer after fifth grade. skinned knees weren’t sexy. smooth, flawless legs were sexy, and i was a sexy girl. i was probably the sexiest little girl in the whole world. my parents hated it. they told me i was too young, but i knew the truth. my body was older, maybe 17 or 18, so my brain must be, too.
when i was twelve, i had a secret kik account that my parents didn’t know about. i used it to message strangers. i made all sorts of friends. i wasn’t stupid. i used a fake name. never showed my face. one of my friends asked me for a bra picture. i was a cool girl, right, i was sexy, so i sent him a picture of me in front of my bedroom mirror in my little white training bra with the blue butterflies.
sexy, he said.
that was all i wanted.
i’m not typing out all this bullshit because i think it’s something special. i’m typing it out because it’s not. i’m typing it out because i see the same thing happening to my little sister. i’m typing it out because i see the same thing happening to that little millie bobbie brown, sexiest actress at thirteen. i’m typing it out because i’m sixteen years old now, a girl in the eyes of the law and a woman in the eyes of men.
mothers, talk to your daughters. tell them to jump off the swingset and skin their knees. tell them to get dirt on their dresses. tell them that they’re a woman on their 18th birthday, not at ten-and-a-half on the first day of their menstrual cycle. the world is confused. the world is sick. if your daughters don’t hear about how to treat their bodies from you, they’ll hear it from the sick, sick world, and they’ll do the things i did.
let girls be girls.
don’t force womanhood on little girls.
i encourage men to reblog this post
I’m not a man but ppl need to hear this
Aizawa: Why are you doing dumb shit?
Matsuda: In my defense, I was left unsupervised.
Criticism? Never heard of it
Matsuda: Light-kun, how long do you think it takes until you start hallucinating from sleep deprivation?
Light: I think-
L: seventy two hours.
Matsuda: How do you-
L: [stares past him] there’s a clown behind you.
In this house we love and respect Touta Matsuda