boys: if ur slutty enough to send a nude pic then u deserve to have it shared everywhere lmao
boys: please send me nudes baby you're so beautiful i just wanna see more of you please baby i thought you loved me

Alison + outfits

zubat:

If you’re in public and you can’t figure out a stranger’s gender, follow these steps:

  • Don’t worry about it.

adriofthedead:

presidentgay:

wenhux:

presidentgay:

queer teenage girls have to look out for each other because who the fuck else is going to???????

The “queer teenage girls” bit is unnecessary. “People” would have sufficed.

prime example of people not giving a shit about queer teenage girls lmao

image

stablevertigo:

What I mean when I say “I can’t do that”- Anxiety Version:

  • I am unable to do that
  • I am too stressed out to do that
  • I cannot face the humiliation of attempting to do that
  • My body will physically not allow me to do that
  • I am on the verge of a panic attack
  • I cannot do that

What people hear:

  • I am unwilling to do that
  • I am just shy
  • I am overreacting
  • I am lazy
  • I need to get more experience in social situation to help my anxiety
  • I need a push
  • I don’t want to do that

Inspired by X

neptunain:

i love losing followers. go you weaklings. you will never survive the winter

holyviners:

It’s so sad that someone who gave the world so much happiness, couldn’t find it for himself.

You’re free now, genie.

Forever missed, forever loved.

The Five Stages of Grieving a Fictional Character

one-of-your-classmates:

numba1fangirl:

1. Denial
2. Denial
3. Denial
4. Denial
5. GUESS WHO THEY’RE BRINGING BACK

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espniosa:

coolghost:

tv show. white man. hes sad. he has to do important thing but its hard. his girlfriend died probably. TWSIT!! theres another white man. maybe MORE. hes sad too but for different reason. its very deep probably. theyre best friends but not gay but maybe they are haha fandom!!! every girl dies or goes away. just not gay white man friend. 10 seasons 100 million viewers. what will moody white men do this week.

image

ruinedchildhood:

i need this for reasons

ruinedchildhood:

i need this for reasons

erebusodora:

msgryz:

the-cellist-in-portland:

Did you know: Chris Evans gets panic attacks. Yes, he does. This is one reason why he’s very private and didn’t really do any meet-and-greets on the Avengers’ sets.

It amazes and inspired me that a man who does what he does can do it, even with an anxiety disorder. You go, Chris.

This is why I get so upset when I hear negative comments about Chris and how he doesn’t seem as out-going as the rest of the Avengers cast. I remember hearing people complain about how he’s ‘rude’ and the like and it’s sad, because I highly doubt he intends to come off that way, he’s just more reserved than the others.

I remember hearing once that he actually went to seek psychiatric help before accepting the role of Captain America because of how anxious he felt regarding it. As well as the fact that he already played another Marvel superhero and he was concerned how comic fans would react to his playing another hero in that universe.

Just because someone’s in the entertainment industry doesn’t mean they’re going to be incredibly outgoing off camera just as much as they appear to be on camera. Some people just really enjoy acting; they’re not the characters they portray nor are they like their costars nor are they going to be incredibly outgoing because of their choice of career.

Now I’m really starting to root for this guy. Because, well. I kind of get the point more accurately than I wish I did.

"

It’s Monday. I’m going home at 6pm and a middle aged man and a teenage boy are the only people left on the bus with me. I consider the fact that because the driver is also a man I am the only person left on the bus with the correct genetic makeup for boobs. I’m automatically scared, scared because of my own anatomy. I wonder how old I was when I realized that my own body was going to be the cause of the constant anxiety and fear I feel in situations like this. I get off at the last stop and the older man smiles at me while following me up the street. His smile drips, drips, drips and my heart is pounding, pounding, pounding. He turns off down another road, but I run the rest of the way home.

Not all men.

I’m at home on a Tuesday, beginning to plan the travels I want to go on next year. I dream of wandering the streets and meeting strangers. I just can’t wait to escape the city I’ve lived in for 17 long years. But… my mum is hesitant. She’s forever worried about the danger that being a young girl traveling alone can bring. I’ll be alone and she’s scared. Surely I’m invincible. I feel invincible. But I know, I know this danger is real and I can’t help but think to myself, if I feel unsafe in my own city, how am i going to feel in a strange place with strange men who don’t speak the same language as me? If I was my brother planning this, I would probably just be wondering if European girls are going to be hot.

Not all men.

Wednesday is a beautiful sunny day but I’ve always been told that I don’t have a “nice enough body” to wear a bikini on the beach. Ever since I was 6 years old I’ve thought that having tummy fat was ugly. That skin that doesn’t have a perfectly golden glow is undesirable. I amble to a clear patch of sand in my one piece and I can feel pairs of eyes latching onto me. Hairy men in speedos who I don’t look twice at eat into my body with their stares. I’m a piece of meat. I am a piece of meat? I am here for their amusement. Please don’t let me be eaten alive.

Not all men.

Thursday night two friends and I are walking to our god damn school dance when we hear “Jesus look at you! You sluts heading to a pole?” These words snarl out of the mouth of a respectably dressed man and we stop in horror. Shivers roll up my back in fear. It’s dark. We are alone. What. Do. We. Do??? One of us pulls the finger back. I can never be sure how quickly a sexist man can get angry so we walk quickly away. We’re angry, so so angry. But also so… deflated. I wonder if we deserve this shame.

Not all men.

Sitting on the internet, Friday night and scrolling down my Facebook newsfeed:

“Haha, good job at the game today bro. You RAPED them!”
“Damn with tits like that, you’re asking for it :P”

Another sexist comment…
Another sexist comment…
Another sexist comment…

I’m shrinking and shrinking and shrinking and I want to CRY because these boys don’t realize how small they make me feel with just pressing a few keys. I see these boys on the streets, I talk to these boys, I laugh with these boys. Dear GOD, dear GOD i hope these boys don’t think actions speak louder than words…

Not all men.

Three rules that have been drilled into me since I was young run through my mind at 1.30am on a Satur… Sunday Morning:

-Don’t ever talk to strange men
-Don’t ever be alone at night in a strange place
-Don’t ever get into a car with a stranger

I break all 3 of these laws as I pull open the taxi door. Making light conversation with the driver, he doesn’t see my sweaty hand clutching the small pocket knife I keep hidden on me at all times. He doesn’t even realize the fear I feel at his mere presence. He cannot comprehend it, he never will. How easy would this 15 minute car ride be if I was born a boy?

Not all men.

It comes to Sunday, another snoozy, sleepy, Sunday and someone has the AUDACITY to tell me not all men are rapists. I say nothing.

I’m a 17 year old girl.
When I am walking alone and it’s dark, it’s all men.
When I am in a car with a man I don’t know well, it’s all men.
When men drunkenly leer at me on the streets, it’s all men.
When a boy won’t leave me alone at a party, it’s all men.

Not all men are rapists. But for a young girl like me? Every one of them has the potential to be.

Not.
All.
Men.

"
- a piece i wrote for an english assignment about my personal experiences with rape culture, in particular with the saying “not all men” which i know has been makin a lot of controversy on the internet recently! idk just wanted to share (via trueho)