Posted 1 hour ago


When I say “boys are dumb” what I really mean is “boys have been raised in a patriarchal society that forces them into an incorrect and problematic view of masculinity that not only forces them to strip away valuable virtues from themselves, like patience and gentleness, but also forces them them to view and treat women in unhealthy ways that devalues women as people and makes them into objects purely for a man’s benefit”

but it’s a lot faster to say “boys are dumb”

Posted 2 hours ago
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Posted 5 hours ago



A while ago I heard a version of this story where Athena has pity on Medusa and turns her into the gorgon to protect her from all men. A gift instead of a punishment for her brother’s crimes.

It always stuck with me, so here’s a doodle.

She missed most the comb.

A foolish sentiment to prick amongst all she had suffered, but still,

She missed it, mourned it, and spoke nothing of the loss

When the cavern home of vipers like herself yawned wide

To cradle her with shadows.

Her sisters would not understand.

Born to bronze, the pair of them; sleek in their painted scales,

And fangs too sharp, numerous to care

For a tangle or two, as like to unknot of its own as to be parsed from its neighbors free.

They had not, those twins immortal, ever sought the comfort of touch

In any save each other; their orbit complete, 

Undying eyes four brazen mirrors reflecting devotion

No force could sever.

They did not know, those elder beasts, her peace in the careful stroke 

Of carved horn teeth through labyrinth curls

And thoughts too dark for dreaming when the night mists rolled in 

Lonely and cold.

They did not know how like a caress was the care she took

In picking tangles free when strength and monstrous rage

Would rather bid her tear and shred and smash and howl

And show the pallid Gods the worth 

Of all their petty hurts.

They did not know, the Strong One, the Far Travelling, 

Could not have guessed what comfort their soft, pink sister found

Imagining the hand that smoothed her ordered curls

Belonged to someone caring; 

Someone gentle, whose hands would map her bones

With reverent touch and awe;

Someone soft and kind, like her.

Yet when at last someone did lay His hand upon her hair,

There was no kindness in it, only conquest, 

And for all she fought and bit,

For all the Beast of her bloodline, the Warrior of her naming 

Did tear, shred, smash and howl, 

She could not make that petty, vicious hurt

Sting the lighter, burn the less,

Foul her heart the more.

She broke her horn comb, 

Shore free her locks and let them fall just there,

Upon the bloodied stones, where neither wit nor strategy prevailed.

She spat her summons; let the Virgin answer for her kinsman’s crime.

Let Wisdom speak and tell this monster why!

Long-bearded men, in after years, wrote out the matter differently, it’s true,

But what man stood ‘twixt the Beast and the Blade that long and lowering day

To hear the words two women born of Gods had spoke

While tears and blood and brine dried up

And shattered horn powdered underfoot?

What man bid the temple stones repeat the bargain struck

When, She whose eyes wove age-long battleplans,

Who smiled alone for riddles, tipped her head; listened, considered,

Then granted all the Beast girl asked; 

Armored her skin to insult and attack,

Armed her, hand and eye with weapons even Gods might fear,

And curled her tumbling hair into such restless, angry venom

That even when her mortal days were spent,

The rage of it would hiss and writhe and strike with poisoned fang

At any grasping hand.

Long-bearded men, in after years, declared her state

A cursed thing; beauty poisoned, shame made flesh,

Hateful, wanton, baleful, bad.  All things one would expect

Long-bearded men to think of a maid whom Wisdom made

Impervious, unconquerable, untouchable,


But, for all the wealth its pieces bought her, 

She did still miss her comb;

The kiss and slide of fantasy and soft, familiar scratches

Through hair that did not struggle;

The simple pleasure of touch that put disorder right

That soothed, that comforted,

Set loneliness aside in rhythmic tugs and made her feel

Beloved and content,

A little.


— C Kingsgrave

Posted 6 hours ago
If a guy calls you ‘princess’ in a condescending manner, assert your newly appointed royal status and have him beheaded.
Cosette, Book III (via incorrectlesmisquotes)
Posted 7 hours ago


"you need to make this appointment yourself"


Posted 8 hours ago
Posted 9 hours ago

I’m a feminist, but I think that romance has been taken away a bit for my generation. I think what people connect with in novels is this idea of an overpowering, encompassing love — and it being more important and special than anything and everything else.

(Source: hazelancester)

Posted 10 hours ago



These are some of them, most were golden retrivers and labradors, but also included german shepherds and other breeds. Sadly most are dead now, while many people forget them and don’t spare them a thought. 

As people lay dying, trapped and hurt, a team of nearly 100 loyal and courageous search dogs put their lives on the line to help humans. Without them, many more would not have survived, yet few people consider them. 

In such a chaotic, terrifying, hot, acrid-smelling, smokey and loud environment, countless human lives depended on their ability to focus, listen, respond to their handlers, and work tirelessly. Stepping over cracked glass, hot tarmac, through flames and thick smoke, being winched over deep ravines, they battled on to seek out survivors and bring them aid. 

They worked around the clock, day and night, searching, sniffing, over and over. Not only did they search, but they comforted - many eyewitnesses speak of how the dogs would stop and sit by newly-recovered victims, giving them a sense of hope and relief, before moving on to look for the next. As the situation became desperate, and the rescue workers and fire teams became utterly distraught at the amount of people who were recovered dead, these dogs brought them comfort, sitting with them on breaks, letting them grieve.

Many of these dogs are old, and have passed away. Let us remember the courage and loyalty they showed at such a horrendous event. They didn’t have a choice, but nonetheless they did what was asked of them and helped save countless lives. Don’t let their bravery be forgotten today either, or their determination to be a ‘good dog’ despite the scary and dangerous environment around them.

And let’s not forget that these dogs actually became depressed when they kept finding dead bodies; they thought they were failing to save people. The workers helping had to hide in the ruble just to let the dogs find a living person and lift their spirits.

Posted 11 hours ago


marvel studios is going through a moment where they could literally pick any character and make a successful movie if they wanted to. for fucks sake they made one about a team that not even most marvel comics fans really cared about, when no one was asking for a movie about them, a team that features a talking tree and a talking raccoon, and it had the fucking biggest box office of the year so far. stop giving me those weak ass excuses for the lack of female led movies

Posted 12 hours ago


I have the best hairstylist ever

Posted 13 hours ago







okay but a story about an asexual pirate who gets made fun of by the crew until he saves all of them from sirens

A pirate for the adventure, not the booty


oh my gosh i want that on a bumper sticker


Trying to pilot a ship here. Thanks.


(Source: uncanny-xmen)

Posted 14 hours ago
Posted 15 hours ago



…did…did Barbie just break the fourth wall. 

that is stacy you uncultured swine

(Source: rrraquelle)