lornrocks
I think I had a good day on twitter today.
The middle one is a perfect point. I’ll just leave it here.
Ladies, and gentlemen, this is the captain. If you look out the right side of the aircraft you will notice flight 195 challenging us to a race.
skyline-sunset-in-my-veins
goosegoblin
please put on your seat belts because it’s about to get raw as hell up in this bitch *sound of plane diving*
threadless
EXPERT TIPS: STYLIN’ YOUR THREADLESS TEE!
Are you wondering who that stylish fashionista in the photo above is? Why, it’s Anna Martin, blogger of Melodic, Thrifty & Chic! In celebration of all the spring-inspired girly tees we launched this week, we sat down with Anna and got some advice on how to style your favorite Threadless tees.
Check it out right here, and prepare for a stylish spring!
apapersea
gem192
Anonymous asked:
why are you a feminist???
forestgreenlesbian answered:
because people are still asking that question
because women are payed less than men in approximately 99% of professions
because chris brown can still have a career after assaulting rihanna but miley cyrus takes her clothes off and there’s a huge scandal
because of this:
because currently it is estimated ten million more girls are out of education than boys (x)
because we’re expected to be mature but hairless like a child, in control but not bossy, sexy but not slutty and definitely not a prude, intelligent but not opinionated, independent but reliant on men, natural but look like the girl in the magazine etc etc
because being called a girl, a pussy or a bitch is an insult
because when i told my mum i refused to get anything less than a’s in my exams she told me it wasn’t ladylike to be so cocky
because my brother and 90% of my male friends think girls who wear revealing clothing are asking for rape
because every person who identifies as female should be allowed to choose if they want to get married, have kids, have a career, go to uni etc etc without expectations
because tampons and sanitary pads are stupidly expensive
because some people reading this will have flinched at the fact i just said ‘tampon’
because there are men out there whose job it is to make young girls feel like absolute shit about themselves just so they can sell the next best beauty product
because female masturbation isn’t considered normal whilst men can talk about their own penises for hours on end
because feminists are still seen as crazy lesbians who dont shave and some still feel like they have to defend themselves by claiming theyre not any of those things when in fact if i want to be a passionate lady who likes other ladies and cant be bothered to shave my legs every twenty minutes then thats my choice and if i want to be someone who wears make up and shaves and goes out partying then thats my choice and if i want to be a combination of the two or anything in between then thats. my. choice.
because i believe anyone who identifies as female is fucking badass and deserves the same rights as every privileged stuck up old white man sitting around and making laws about our bodies
because how can you not be
i-gotta-go-good-day-bitch
flowercrown-princess
“i want to wear shorts because it’s hot but i really hate my legs” an autobiography
“I want to wear shorts but i didnt shave” the sequel.
“I want to wear shorts but I don’t tan and I’d rather not blind you” The trilogy
“I want to wear shorts but my huge dick always sticks out” a pop-up book
a pop up book
hourcat
One night, while they’re on shift, Dorian nods off in the passenger seat of John’s car. Stakeouts had always been John’s least favorite part of the job, cooped up in his car with a partner that either talked too much or too little; as much as he liked the guy, it was always hard to focus with the constant rumble of chatter coming from his right side. Recently, though, Dorian had been making these long periods in the car more tolerable–something he would never admit to.
For some reason, though, Dorian chooses that moment to fall into sleep mode, apparently for processing the information in the most efficient way possible. John turns to make a snide remark about the cabbie that just sped by when he notices this. He chuckles under his breath, watching intently as his partner’s face continues to light up and pattern all across his cheek. The normal blue he’s used to seeing is mixing with other colors–some green, some orange, and the occasional flicker of red, worrying him slightly. He says nothing, though, simply watches the circles curling and melting back into Dorian’s artificial skin.
“Show-off,” John grunts, but there’s a smile playing across his face, one that lingers as he watches the lights speed up.
sabellart
