bellaruska:

leonkyuwata:

mayrlynray:

supermansadork:

thehuntingwinchester:

a-dash-of-hiddles:

allonsyimpala:

santiloveatthedisco:

kentromanoff:

That time Peter Parker was trained by Natasha Romanoff. 

It’s a spider thing

It’s a spider thing

Don’t you love how Peter can do it with his calves but Natasha has to use her inner thighs. This whole equality thing is great.

Thighs are stronger than calves, and you can get a tighter grip, as well as have a higher chance of breaking things. Peter was intending to disarm, Natasha was ready to kill. Natasha is a trained assassin, and Peter is a student who works for a newspaper.
Given their backgrounds and experiences, it would be UNequal to have Peter using skills and disarming tactics that Natasha was trained to do so.

So yes, this whole equality thing is great.

Owned

This post is brilliant.

also peter has bALLS OK you dont want to SLAM YOUR FUCKING TESTICLES into someons fucking SKULL 

Reblogging for last comment. Laughing for 3257865 years

murasaki-me:

redsuns-n-orangemoons:

shybairnsget-nowt:

americas-liberty:

Students Fed Up With Michelle Obama’s School Lunch Overhaul — Menu-Item Snapshots Spell Out Why

Wow that is depressing. 

okay but is that michelle’s fault for pushing for healtheir lunches or is it school districts’ faults for cutting corner by cutting calories but not making lunch any healthier?

let’s look into it.

^^^Agreed. She is trying. School boards aren’t.

1630revellodrivesunnydale:

korilian:

1630revellodrivesunnydale:

I love Natasha Romanoff, I do, but can we remember another Marvel lady who wasn’t sexualised, who was clever and badass?

Thank you.

While we’re on the subject: 

And special kudo’s to Mystique, who managed to be bad ass and clever and compelling and completely made me forget the fact that she was running around naked.

Award for best addition to my post.

brave-heart-juliet:

inkstainsonmyjacket:

xxduhastxx:

meowbeastt:

gymleaderkarkat:


What are you so afraid of!?

I’m REALLY sorry but it looks like they’re about to rap battle

That’s exactly what I thought, too

Epic Rap Battles of DISNEYYYYYYYYYYYY

QUEEN ELSA
VERSUS
PRINCESS MERIDA
BEGIN!
Elsa:Hey nice hairMs. Curly ass froYou’re out of controlMine is slick like the snowYour right it’s petty to justfocus on your lookShould we focus on talent'cause we know you can't cookGo ahead and threaten me with yourlittle wooden weaponBut not even a bear cankeep me from steppin’
Up on your turf ‘cause I’m straight rippin’ from NarniaAnd if you walk out the door nowI promise no harm to ye’.
Merida:That’s richcoming from a from a Frozen ass bitch
I don’t even need my bowto deal with this sitch’
I didn’t realise you started rapping'cause I thought we kept it classyWith the noises coming out your mouthI thought it was your sister being gassy!
You’ll destroy yourselfby keepin’ everything insideYour powers can’t be controlled ‘causeyour sick in the mind!
Both parents are dead!Now you’re ill in the head -If I didn’t know better I’d say you hated red -Hair! Cause you changed your sisDidn’t notice till now but your fate is thisTo be upstaged by we the new dominate raceI guess people like us better b/c gingers are running this place.
Elsa:Don’t pop your topyou unreasonable scotIf you weren’t so selfish then you’d’ve not
turned your mom to a bearhow the hell is that fair?At least when I try and change peopleI only change their hair!
If you say you can go change your fateBut I know the only reason you say you canIs cause you suck at choosing a date!
Merida:Don’t bring up dates to me, ai’ght'Cause your sister knocked down two men in two nights!
And yet there you are up in your castle aloneHope you don’t get frostbite sweetie just from sitting on your throne!
Once you look inside yourself you’ll realise your a shamNot an actual royal specimen like I am.
And now you  understand I’ve just kicked your ass, sotake my solemn advice dear.And let it go.
WHO WONWHO’S NEXT?
YOU DECIDE!!!

You read the beginning and outro in the voice and you know you did

brave-heart-juliet:

inkstainsonmyjacket:

xxduhastxx:

meowbeastt:

gymleaderkarkat:

What are you so afraid of!?

I’m REALLY sorry but it looks like they’re about to rap battle

That’s exactly what I thought, too

Epic Rap Battles of DISNEYYYYYYYYYYYY

QUEEN ELSA

VERSUS

PRINCESS MERIDA

BEGIN!

Elsa:
Hey nice hair
Ms. Curly ass fro
You’re out of control
Mine is slick like the snow

Your right it’s petty to just
focus on your look
Should we focus on talent
'cause we know you can't cook

Go ahead and threaten me with your
little wooden weapon
But not even a bear cankeep me from steppin’

Up on your turf ‘cause I’m
straight rippin’ from Narnia
And if you walk out the door now
I promise no harm to ye’.

Merida:
That’s rich
coming from a from a Frozen ass bitch

I don’t even need my bow
to deal with this sitch’

I didn’t realise you started rapping
'cause I thought we kept it classy
With the noises coming out your mouth
I thought it was your sister being gassy!

You’ll destroy yourself
by keepin’ everything inside
Your powers can’t be controlled ‘cause
your sick in the mind!

Both parents are dead!
Now you’re ill in the head -
If I didn’t know better I’d say you hated red -
Hair! Cause you changed your sis
Didn’t notice till now but your fate is this

To be upstaged by we the new dominate race
I guess people like us better b/c gingers are running this place.

Elsa:
Don’t pop your top
you unreasonable scot
If you weren’t so selfish then you’d’ve not

turned your mom to a bear
how the hell is that fair?
At least when I try and change people
I only change their hair!

If you say you can go change your fate
But I know the only reason you say you can
Is cause you suck at choosing a date!

Merida:
Don’t bring up dates to me, ai’ght
'Cause your sister knocked down two men in two nights!

And yet there you are up in your castle aloneHope you don’t get frostbite sweetie just from sitting on your throne!

Once you look inside yourself you’ll realise your a sham
Not an actual royal specimen like I am.

And now you  understand I’ve just kicked your ass, so
take my solemn advice dear.
And let it go.

WHO WON
WHO’S NEXT?

YOU DECIDE!!!

You read the beginning and outro in the voice and you know you did

voltisubito:

cutebabe:

queerfabulousmermaid:

girlsgetbusyzine:

dashuri96:

http://www.inglotcosmetics.com/nails/products/141

this retailer sells a halal nail polish. this allows for oxygen and water to go through the nail, which makes it acceptable to wear during prayer. spread the word. 

“Being a relatively modern creation, nail polish remains obviously unaddressed by early Islamic sources. But the general consensus in the Islamic community is that praying with nail polish is impermissible because of the waterproof barrier it creates on nails, which prevents the wudu ritual from being completed five times a day.” (source)

For any Muslim followers.

^^^^^^^

HEY

NO

DON’T ACTUALLY USE THIS FOR THE SAKE OF WATER PERMEABILITY. IT’S NOT VERY EFFECTIVE.

It’s only water vapor permeable, and it’s not at all water permeable when you apply multiple coats, a top coat, or a base coat.

You should use the Tuesday In Love water-permeable brands instead! They’re completely water permeable and come in a whole ton of colors!

Here’s a test that a sister did comparing the Inglot brand and the Tuesday In Love brand on a paper towel so you can see for yourself.

please please please spread this around, I would hate for a lot of sisters to have their prayers invalidated because of something like this.

Rape culture is when I was six, and
my brother punched my two front teeth out.
Instead of reprimanding him, my mother
said “Stefanie, what did you do to provoke him?”
When my only defense was my
mother whispering in my ear, “Honey, ignore him.
Don’t rile him up. He just wants a reaction.”
As if it was my sole purpose, the reason
six-year-old me existed,
was to not rile up my brother.
It’s starts when we’re six, and ends
when we grow up assuming the natural state of a man
is a predator, and I must walk on eggshells, as to
not “rile him up.” Right, mom?

Rape culture is when through casual dinner conversation,
my father says that women who get raped are asking for it.
He says, “I see them on the streets of New York City,
with their short skirts and heavy makeup. Asking for it.”
When I used to be my father’s hero but
will he think I was asking for it? (will he think)
Will he think I deserved it?
Will he hold me accountable or will he hold me,
even though the touch of a man - especially my father’s -
burns as if I were holding the sun in the palm of my hand.

Rape culture is you were so ashamed, you thought it would
be easier for your parents to find you dead,
than to say, “Hey mom and dad,”
It wasn’t my fault. I didn’t ask for it.
I never asked for this attention, I never asked
to be a target, to be weak because I was born with
two X chromosomes, to walk in fear, to always look behind me,
in front of me, next to me, I never asked to be the prey.
I never wanted to spend my life being something
someone feasts upon, a meal for the eternally starved.
I do not want to hear about the way I taste anymore.
I will not let you eat me alive.

Rape culture is I shouldn’t defend my friend when
an overaggressive frat boy has his hand on her ass,
because standing up for her body “makes me a target.”
Women are afraid to speak up, because
they fear their own lives - but I’d rather take the hit
than live in a culture of silence.
I am told that I will always be the victim, pre-determined
by the DNA in my weaker, softer body.
I have birthing hips, not a fighter’s stance.
I am genetically pre-dispositioned to lose every time.

Rape culture is he was probably abused as a child.
When he even has some form of a justification
and all I have are the things that provoked him,
and the scars from his touch are woven of the darkest
and toughest strings, underneath the layer of my skin.
Rape culture leaves me finding pieces of him left inside of me.
A bone of his elbow. The cap of his knee.
There is something so daunting in the way that I know it will take
me years to methodically extract him from my body.
And that twinge I will get sometimes in my arm fifteen years later?
Proof of the past.
Like a tattoo I didn’t ask for.
Somehow I am permanently inked.

Rape culture is you can’t wear that outfit anymore
without feeling dirty, without feeling like
you somehow earned it.
You will feel like you are walking on knives,
every time you wear the shoes
you smashed his nose in with.
Imaginary blood on the bottom of your heels,
thinking, maybe this will heal me.
Those shoes are your freedom,
But the remains of a life long fight.
You will always carry your heart,
your passion, your absolute will to live,
but also the shame and the guilt and the pain.
I saved myself but I still feel like I’m walking on knives.

Rape culture is “Stefanie, you weren’t really raped, you were
one of the lucky ones.”
Because my body wasn’t penetrated by a penis,
but fingers instead, that I should feel lucky.
I should get on my hands and knees and say, thank you.
Thank you for being so kind.
Rape culture is “things could have been worse.”
“It’s been a month, Stefanie. Get out of bed.”
“You’ll have to get over this eventually.”
“Don’t let it ruin your life.”
Rape culture is he told you that after he touched you,
no one would ever want you again.
And you believed him.

Rape culture is telling your daughters not to get raped,
instead of teaching your sons how to treat all women.
That sex is not a right. You are not entitled to this.
The worst possible thing you can call a woman is a
slut, a whore, a bitch.
The worst possible thing you can call a man is a
bitch, a pussy, a girl.
The worst thing you can call a girl is a girl.
The worst thing you can call a guy is a girl.
Being a woman is the ultimate rejection,
the ultimate dismissal of strength and power, the
absolute insult.
When I have a daughter,
I will tell her that she is not
an insult.

When I have a daughter, she will know how to fight.
I will look at her like the sun when she comes home
with anger in her fists.
Because we are human beings and we do not
always have to take what we are given.
They all tell her not to fight fire with fire,
but that is only because they are afraid of her flames.
I will teach her the value of the word “no” so that
when she hears it, she will not question it.
My daughter,
Don’t you dare apologize for the fierce love
you have for yourself
and the lengths you go to preserve it.

My daughter,
I am alive because of the fierce love I have
for myself, and because my father taught me
to protect that.
He taught me that sometimes, I have to do
my own bit of saving, pick myself off the
ground and wipe the dirt off my face,
because at the end of the day,
there is only me.
I am alive because my mother taught me
to love myself.
She taught me that I am an enigma - a
mystery, a paradox, an unfinished masterpiece and
I must love myself enough to see how I turn out.
I am alive because even beaten, voiceless, and back
against the wall, I knew there was an ounce of me
worth fighting for.
And for that, I thank my parents.

Instead of teaching my daughter to cover herself up,
I will show her how to be exposed.
Because no is not “convince me”.
No is not “I want it”.
You call me,
“Little lady, pretty girl, beautiful woman.”
But I am not any of these things for you.
I am exploding light,
my daughter will be exploding light,
and you,
better cover your eyes.

slk

Rape Culture (Cover Your Eyes)

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