Shipping is a way of life

I don't have a ship. I have an armada!

166,580 notes

Me on my period

Uterus:
Oh, so, no baby?
Uterus:
Okay
Me:
No -
Uterus:
SDUFGYADFUIFSDHUFDSH
Me:
FUCK FUCK FUCK
Vagina:
*unleashes red sea*
Pad:
I'm not cleaning that up.
Ovaries:
Oh, our turn? My bad, here~
Cramps:
Howdy
Junk Food:
Don't listen to the cramps, you do want us
Chocolate:
No me
Acne:
Wow, this face looks like a great spot to settle down
Pad:
CHANGE ME EVEN THOUGH I ONLY CAUGHT 20% OF THAT
Vagina:
I can do better, hold up
Vagina:
*Niagara Falls*
Pad:
You still missed.
Lower Back:
Whoa, am I late? Haha, hope you don't plan on sitting in this position too long.
Ovaries:
WSIUDIUFASJDFHADSU
Cramps:
*sings the Ave Maria*
Uterus:
USAHDFIADSHFUFUGUJADIUEWRFHSJKKKKKKKSAJFXXZXCZJ
Me:
*dead*

Filed under tw: menstrual cycle tw: period XD also EWWW

977,542 notes

baku-babe:

best-days-of-my-flerm:

23deecy:

23deecy:

comeon-letsgoandplay:

ishipelsanna:

youremybrandnewday:

sp0tlessmiind:

tiptreecrossing:


livingmywayeveryday:

vickified:


“If a clock could count down to the moment you meet your soul mate, would you want to know?”

lol yes, so then i can shave.

     One minute, 37 seconds.     My legs are shaking. Holy cow, there is no way I can do this. None.     One minute, 29 secods.     I glance around at the faces surrounding the room. Of course my Meeting would take place in the gross, overcrowded cafeteria.     One minute, six seconds.     Somewhere within these four walls, someone has the exact same countdown on their wrist. They’re going through the exact same pressure as me.      54 seconds.     Mom said I should be excited, not nervous. Yet I still find myself wiping my sweaty palms on my dress. I can’t believe she talked me into wearing a dress. I mean, shouldn’t  my Soul Mate meet me as I normally am? All plain jeans, blah shirts, and wild brown curls?     30 seconds.     Something deep within me tells me to stand up. I do, drawing the attention of my tablemates. They all know too. They smile encouragingly up at me. I chew my lip nervously.     25 seconds.     That same feeling pulls me towards the center of the room. My stomach drops away from me as I take a step in that direction.     20 seconds.     I continue in that direction. With each step the tempo of my heart picks up.     19. Faster.     18. Quicker.     17. More rapid.     16.  It’s racing.     Oh my god this is it. The moment my life changes forever.     My eyes search frantically around the cafeteria, searching for someone who looks as nervous as me. For someone who’s heading towards their future with no sense of direction like me.     10 seconds.     The feeling directs me slightly to the left. I turn to accomodate.     5. My heart has given up entirely.     4. I stop walking.     3. Just waiting left.     2. Everything is about to change.     1. Deep breath.
     0000 d 00 h  00 m  00 s
     Someone bumps my shoulder. I twirl around and my gray eyes meet blue, blue ones.     “Hello there, love. It appears as though we’re Soul Mates then, eh?”     As my words fail me, the only thing I can think is “I’m so glad I shaved this morning.”

“Thats weird…” I checked my wrist, the clock had just hit the 30 second mark but I looked around and there was no one there. I was a worrisome guy overall but I felt justified, I mean today was the day I was meeting my soul mate. Not that I expected my dream girl to be in the storage closet at work but still I was nervous. 
Walking out with a box the boss had requested I walked back to my cash register setting it on the shelf. My wrist hit the 20 second mark
19 seconds
18 seconds
Where was she? I could not help but get worried that an error would pop up or that she was gone and my timer would run out with no response. I panicked, I’d change my own fate if I had to. Running out of time I hurried through the back door. There was a park outside and maybe I was supposed to be there to find my soul mate. 
10 seconds
9 seconds
A faint ding of the doorbell hit my ear. Wait was that it?? She was here! I turned around running back to the counter. “Don’t worry I’m just in the back!”
I ran out looking at my wrist as it hit zero. Out of breath “Hi I’m Matt!” Sticking out my hand for a handshake it was met by a firm hand. Meeting my soulmate’s eyes for the first time they spoke. 
“I’m Steven.” The man gave a smile “It’s nice to meet you.” 

 I watch my friend carefully. Her excitement is glowing all over her pretty face. Exactly 2 minutes left, she tells me. We’re waiting at the bus stop and the bus is coming in two minutes. I think she hoped she’d meet them on a beach at sunset or something. ”I mean that’s ok - these things can’t always be romantic I mean my mum met dad when he was working at the book store and it’s not like you can plan it to be romantic I just hoped, I mean everyone hopes don’t they-” she breaks off, looking at me awkwardly. “Sorry. It’s just a big day for me you know.” Yes I do know. You’ve been going on about it for the past year. I smile at her. ”Don’t worry. You nervous? You’ll be ok, you always are,” I grin, determined not to ruin this for her. It’s selfish of me to be moody. This is her future being determined. Right here. In now, precisely 1 minute 30 seconds. She smiles at me, but it isn’t quite reaching her eyes. She’s restless and keeps tapping her foot. Her eyes are wide with.. fear? Excitement? Nerves? Probably all of them and a thousand more things I can’t imagine. She keeps checking her wrist. So do I. The bus comes around the corner. 1 minute 10 seconds. ”Hey. I’ll leave you alone now ok? The bus is here. I’ll sit a couple of seats away, and be there if you need me,” I say, squeezing her arm reassuringly. “Good luck.” I hope it sounded sincere. The bus pulls up and I climb on first, taking a quick glance at her while I give the driver my ticket. She’s shaking and looks a little green. I want to give her a hug but know I shouldn’t interrupt now. I look at the passengers and it’s full of pensioners. My heart starts beating frantically. What? I can’t see anyone else at the bus stop. But she’s only 18, she can’t end up with a 80 year old.  I turn around and look at her - she’s breathing hard. The bus driver asks if she’s ok but she ignores him. Her eyebrows are creased and her face is flushed. Oh. Oh no. Stay calm. Someone is probably late. I give her a thumbs up and try to smile reassuringly. I think it’s more of a grimace. I take a seat near the back. Look at my watch. 25 seconds. She sits down a few seats away.
 Suddenly a dark shape runs past my window and a boy jumps on the bus. He has that same frantic look in his eyes. I breathe out with relief. ”Yeah get on, we’re running late,” the driver says, taking his ticket. The boy looks around, carefully stepping towards the seats. He’s tall and handsome, holding a sketchbook. I smile slightly; my friend hates art. 4 seconds He spots her. 3 seconds His eyes widen as he walks closer, as if being pulled by an invisible rope. 2 seconds My friend stands up too, that same rope tying her to him. 1 second - ”I was worried the bus would leave. No way could I miss meeting my soul mate!” he jokes, though he looks just as nervous as she. They smile at each other as they both sit down together. I can’t hear what they’re talking about.
 I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. Suddenly I’m crying. Hot tears dropping down my cheeks.
 I look at my wrist, scratching at it. Trying to get rid of it. 
 The numbers have never changed.
 They’ve always been at 0.

Oh my god that last one…. My heart… The feels….

AGH ALL OF YOU WRITE A BOOK THIS VERY INSTANT. PLEASE.

Oh my gosh……. THE FEELS!

The king and queen of Arendelle were slightly shocked that their tiny baby girl had a starting number of little over three years. But they soon shrugged it off; it must be the future arrival of a young prince from another kingdom with his parents, showing him off. What else could it be? Elsa was just an infant. Nothing would matter until she was older anyway; sure, she could meet her prince at age three but there was no way she’d be seeing him again for years. At least 30 years. Okay, 15.
With this simple explanation to calm them, they paid no further attention to the little girl’s timer. Especially not when the king and queen were expecting another little one, a few short years later. When Princess Anna was born in the royal couple’s bedroom, the king ran out into the hall to fetch Kai and Gerda, who had been entertaining little Elsa during the process.
The queen, holding her bundled, brand new baby girl, smiled serenely and let out a sigh, feeling relaxed for the first time in hours. Bright bluish eyes stared up at her in wonder as she fished the child’s arm out from the blankets. Tiny fingers curled around one of hers and she beamed down at the little one.
Only then did she think to peek at the number on her new daughter’s wrist, and the smile froze on her face. It was counting down from ten.
Ten seconds.
Nine.
What in the world? The queen lightly rubbed at the ticking numbers on the infant’s soft skin, thinking there must be some mistake. How could a sweet little baby meet her one true match just minutes after birth?
Three.
The doors burst open as Princess Elsa squealed in delight, skipping toward the bed.
Two.
The king and their favorite attendants followed closely, amused by the girl’s excitement.
One.
Elsa hopped up, grabbing her mother’s arm, and sat upon the sheets, face to face with her new little sister.
New little Anna.
Both tiny wrists read 00:00:00.

GOSH It’s like you read my mind! This is what exactly I wanted written I’m squealing OMG

reblogging for tehcheshirecat (this was the post i found it yay!)

I have to tag this or i won’t find it for a bajillion years

This is one of the reasons I love this fandom; I get amazing things like this even before I know I want it.
This is EXACTLY what I wanted.

Just a head’s up that this is a 2009 movie called “Timer”, only there you can choose whether to install it or not, whereas here you’re born with it :)

baku-babe:

best-days-of-my-flerm:

23deecy:

23deecy:

comeon-letsgoandplay:

ishipelsanna:

youremybrandnewday:

sp0tlessmiind:

tiptreecrossing:

livingmywayeveryday:

vickified:

If a clock could count down to the moment you meet your soul mate, would you want to know?

lol yes, so then i can shave.

     One minute, 37 seconds.
     My legs are shaking. Holy cow, there is no way I can do this. None.
     One minute, 29 secods.
     I glance around at the faces surrounding the room. Of course my Meeting would take place in the gross, overcrowded cafeteria.
     One minute, six seconds.
     Somewhere within these four walls, someone has the exact same countdown on their wrist. They’re going through the exact same pressure as me.
      54 seconds.
     Mom said I should be excited, not nervous. Yet I still find myself wiping my sweaty palms on my dress. I can’t believe she talked me into wearing a dress. I mean, shouldn’t  my Soul Mate meet me as I normally am? All plain jeans, blah shirts, and wild brown curls?
     30 seconds.
     Something deep within me tells me to stand up. I do, drawing the attention of my tablemates. They all know too. They smile encouragingly up at me. I chew my lip nervously.
     25 seconds.
     That same feeling pulls me towards the center of the room. My stomach drops away from me as I take a step in that direction.
     20 seconds.
     I continue in that direction. With each step the tempo of my heart picks up.
     19. Faster.
     18. Quicker.
     17. More rapid.
     16.  It’s racing.
     Oh my god this is it. The moment my life changes forever.
     My eyes search frantically around the cafeteria, searching for someone who looks as nervous as me. For someone who’s heading towards their future with no sense of direction like me.
     10 seconds.
     The feeling directs me slightly to the left. I turn to accomodate.
     5. My heart has given up entirely.
     4. I stop walking.
     3. Just waiting left.
     2. Everything is about to change.
     1. Deep breath.

     0000 d 00 h  00 m  00 s

     Someone bumps my shoulder. I twirl around and my gray eyes meet blue, blue ones.
     “Hello there, love. It appears as though we’re Soul Mates then, eh?”
     As my words fail me, the only thing I can think is “I’m so glad I shaved this morning.”

“Thats weird…” I checked my wrist, the clock had just hit the 30 second mark but I looked around and there was no one there. I was a worrisome guy overall but I felt justified, I mean today was the day I was meeting my soul mate. Not that I expected my dream girl to be in the storage closet at work but still I was nervous. 

Walking out with a box the boss had requested I walked back to my cash register setting it on the shelf. My wrist hit the 20 second mark

19 seconds

18 seconds

Where was she? I could not help but get worried that an error would pop up or that she was gone and my timer would run out with no response. I panicked, I’d change my own fate if I had to. Running out of time I hurried through the back door. There was a park outside and maybe I was supposed to be there to find my soul mate. 

10 seconds

9 seconds

A faint ding of the doorbell hit my ear. Wait was that it?? She was here! I turned around running back to the counter. “Don’t worry I’m just in the back!”

I ran out looking at my wrist as it hit zero. Out of breath “Hi I’m Matt!” Sticking out my hand for a handshake it was met by a firm hand. Meeting my soulmate’s eyes for the first time they spoke. 

“I’m Steven.” The man gave a smile “It’s nice to meet you.” 

 I watch my friend carefully. Her excitement is glowing all over her pretty face. Exactly 2 minutes left, she tells me. We’re waiting at the bus stop and the bus is coming in two minutes. I think she hoped she’d meet them on a beach at sunset or something.
 ”I mean that’s ok - these things can’t always be romantic I mean my mum met dad when he was working at the book store and it’s not like you can plan it to be romantic I just hoped, I mean everyone hopes don’t they-” she breaks off, looking at me awkwardly. “Sorry. It’s just a big day for me you know.” Yes I do know. You’ve been going on about it for the past year. I smile at her.
 ”Don’t worry. You nervous? You’ll be ok, you always are,” I grin, determined not to ruin this for her. It’s selfish of me to be moody. This is her future being determined. Right here. In now, precisely 1 minute 30 seconds.
 She smiles at me, but it isn’t quite reaching her eyes. She’s restless and keeps tapping her foot. Her eyes are wide with.. fear? Excitement? Nerves? Probably all of them and a thousand more things I can’t imagine. She keeps checking her wrist. So do I. The bus comes around the corner. 1 minute 10 seconds.
 ”Hey. I’ll leave you alone now ok? The bus is here. I’ll sit a couple of seats away, and be there if you need me,” I say, squeezing her arm reassuringly. “Good luck.” I hope it sounded sincere.

 The bus pulls up and I climb on first, taking a quick glance at her while I give the driver my ticket. She’s shaking and looks a little green. I want to give her a hug but know I shouldn’t interrupt now. I look at the passengers and it’s full of pensioners. My heart starts beating frantically. What? I can’t see anyone else at the bus stop. But she’s only 18, she can’t end up with a 80 year old. 
 I turn around and look at her - she’s breathing hard. The bus driver asks if she’s ok but she ignores him. Her eyebrows are creased and her face is flushed. Oh. Oh no. Stay calm. Someone is probably late. I give her a thumbs up and try to smile reassuringly. I think it’s more of a grimace.

 I take a seat near the back. Look at my watch. 25 seconds. She sits down a few seats away.

 Suddenly a dark shape runs past my window and a boy jumps on the bus. He has that same frantic look in his eyes. I breathe out with relief.
 ”Yeah get on, we’re running late,” the driver says, taking his ticket. The boy looks around, carefully stepping towards the seats. He’s tall and handsome, holding a sketchbook. I smile slightly; my friend hates art.
 4 seconds
 He spots her.
 3 seconds
 His eyes widen as he walks closer, as if being pulled by an invisible rope.
 2 seconds
 My friend stands up too, that same rope tying her to him.
 1 second -
 ”I was worried the bus would leave. No way could I miss meeting my soul mate!” he jokes, though he looks just as nervous as she. They smile at each other as they both sit down together. I can’t hear what they’re talking about.

 I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. Suddenly I’m crying. Hot tears dropping down my cheeks.

 I look at my wrist, scratching at it. Trying to get rid of it. 

 The numbers have never changed.

 They’ve always been at 0.

Oh my god that last one…. My heart… The feels….

AGH ALL OF YOU WRITE A BOOK THIS VERY INSTANT. PLEASE.

Oh my gosh……. THE FEELS!

The king and queen of Arendelle were slightly shocked that their tiny baby girl had a starting number of little over three years. But they soon shrugged it off; it must be the future arrival of a young prince from another kingdom with his parents, showing him off. What else could it be? Elsa was just an infant. Nothing would matter until she was older anyway; sure, she could meet her prince at age three but there was no way she’d be seeing him again for years. At least 30 years. Okay, 15.

With this simple explanation to calm them, they paid no further attention to the little girl’s timer. Especially not when the king and queen were expecting another little one, a few short years later. When Princess Anna was born in the royal couple’s bedroom, the king ran out into the hall to fetch Kai and Gerda, who had been entertaining little Elsa during the process.

The queen, holding her bundled, brand new baby girl, smiled serenely and let out a sigh, feeling relaxed for the first time in hours. Bright bluish eyes stared up at her in wonder as she fished the child’s arm out from the blankets. Tiny fingers curled around one of hers and she beamed down at the little one.

Only then did she think to peek at the number on her new daughter’s wrist, and the smile froze on her face. It was counting down from ten.

Ten seconds.

Nine.

What in the world? The queen lightly rubbed at the ticking numbers on the infant’s soft skin, thinking there must be some mistake. How could a sweet little baby meet her one true match just minutes after birth?

Three.

The doors burst open as Princess Elsa squealed in delight, skipping toward the bed.

Two.

The king and their favorite attendants followed closely, amused by the girl’s excitement.

One.

Elsa hopped up, grabbing her mother’s arm, and sat upon the sheets, face to face with her new little sister.

New little Anna.

Both tiny wrists read 00:00:00.

GOSH
It’s like you read my mind! This is what exactly I wanted written I’m squealing OMG

reblogging for tehcheshirecat (this was the post i found it yay!)

I have to tag this or i won’t find it for a bajillion years

This is one of the reasons I love this fandom; I get amazing things like this even before I know I want it.

This is EXACTLY what I wanted.

Just a head’s up that this is a 2009 movie called “Timer”, only there you can choose whether to install it or not, whereas here you’re born with it :)

(Source: illness-and-instruments)

Filed under elsanna icest arencest young elsa young anna soul-mate timer 2009 movie reblogging again because it just aired on my tv and I'd love for someone to continue this ;) pretty please?

22 notes

finlyandka asked: Another promt, albeit a random one. Elsanna doing community service because they kind of screwed something up and got caught. Everything else is up to you.

moonstarsparkle:

"How many cars have we washed, Els?"

"Twelve."

"And how many did Mom and Dad say we have to do?"

"Thirty."

"We’re not even halfway!"

"Don’t worry, it’s only been an hour. At this rate we’ll be done before five."

It was bad enough that Mr. Weselton had caught them giving each other the exam answers. It was bad enough that they’d gotten suspended for a week. But now they had also been volunteered by their parents to spend the whole weekend doing community service ‘so that they learned some values and responsibility’. Their first task that Friday afternoon was to wash the cars of all their neighbors around the block.

Anna and Elsa had teamed up to complete this task, the way they always teamed up for everything, including that fatidic exam. Armed with buckets, sponges, and copious amounts of sunscreen, the sisters were rushing to finish washing the cars in time for Oaken’s cappuccino happy hour.

“I hate these things,” Anna continued her stream of complaints. “What do we have tomorrow?”

“Dog walking.”

“Oh, that’s better. Dogs are so pretty! Do you think they’ll let us walk Tinker Bell? I love that one.”

Elsa smiled at her baby sister’s enthusiasm. “I’m sure they will. You’ll spend all morning with her.”

Anna beamed at the perspective, and they went on rubbing soap over the car’s doors and windows. Elsa tried to focus on being done with their punishment, though, of course, it was impossible to ignore how Anna’s red hair glittered under the sunlight, or the way her toned body strained with the effort of washing, given the way those barely-there shorts framed her long legs and how the t-shirt slipped up every time Anna raised her arms. But she didn’t really notice just how close her sister was getting until she felt her hands on her waist and her voice from behind.

“Hey, Elsa,” Anna cooed.

Elsa jumped. “Anna! Anna, wait,” Anna’s hands began tickling her under the shirt. “I mean it, no, wait, someone could see us.”

Anna released her, giggling. She grabbed her sponge and, with a smirk, let it fall to the ground.

“Oops, I dropped my sponge.”

She bent down to pick the thing up and pulled Elsa with her. Protected by the car, Anna stole a kiss.

Oh, it wasn’t your ordinary sisterly kiss on the cheek. This was the kind of kiss that would give their highly religious parents a heart attack, and would surely get the girls sent to (yet another) Christian camp.

But they couldn’t really hate on the camps. Where else would they have been given the chance to share a bed, eat together, walk together, and on one memorable occasion even shower together? Really, they owed so much to those camps.

Elsa gave in to the kiss, closing her eyes at the feeling of her sister’s soft lips and the smell of her strawberry shampoo. Crouched behind the car, Elsa surrendered and made out with her sister like she had done so many nights during those fondly remembered camps.

They were precariously balanced on their toes, and the intensity of their movement completed the catastrophe. Elsa fell on top of Anna, who in turn fell on top of the bucket. Cold, soapy water splashed them thoroughly as they crashed onto the concrete, and the bucket rolled down the street. Anna and Elsa screamed –they were a mess of limbs, bubbles, and scrapes.

They got up laughing; the sun would surely dry them and in the meantime they didn’t feel like complaining about wet shirts. Elsa rolled her eyes and mussed Anna’s hair.

“Come on, little princess. Let’s get this over with.”

Anna smiled and made a little curtsey. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

Filed under elsanna modern!au one of my fav prompt ficlets ficlet great job!

6 notes

Chocolate

A thought that occured to me during the reading of a fanfic: I eat chocolate and brush my teeth yet still get cavities…Elsa and Anna on the other hand eat probably 3x the amount of chocolate I do and they have no cavities! I live in the 21st century and they in the 19th…*squints eyes* I think we need to investigate where dentists have gone wrong XDD

Filed under dental hygiene frozen lol random thought it also probably helps that they're animated but still XDDD

177,399 notes

You want to say Hi to the cute girl on the subway. How will she react? Fortunately, I can tell you with some certainty, because she’s already sending messages to you. Looking out the window, reading a book, working on a computer, arms folded across chest, body away from you = do not disturb. So, y’know, don’t disturb her. Really. Even to say that you like her hair, shoes, or book. A compliment is not always a reason for women to smile and say thank you. You are a threat, remember? You are Schrödinger’s Rapist. Don’t assume that whatever you have to say will win her over with charm or flattery. Believe what she’s signaling, and back off.

If you speak, and she responds in a monosyllabic way without looking at you, she’s saying, “I don’t want to be rude, but please leave me alone.” You don’t know why. It could be “Please leave me alone because I am trying to memorize Beowulf.” It could be “Please leave me alone because you are a scary, scary man with breath like a water buffalo.” It could be “Please leave me alone because I am planning my assassination of a major geopolitical figure and I will have to kill you if you are able to recognize me and blow my cover.”

On the other hand, if she is turned towards you, making eye contact, and she responds in a friendly and talkative manner when you speak to her, you are getting a green light. You can continue the conversation until you start getting signals to back off.

The fourth point: If you fail to respect what women say, you label yourself a problem.

There’s a man with whom I went out on a single date—afternoon coffee, for one hour by the clock—on July 25th. In the two days after the date, he sent me about fifteen e-mails, scolding me for non-responsiveness. I e-mailed him back, saying, “Look, this is a disproportionate response to a single date. You are making me uncomfortable. Do not contact me again.” It is now October 7th. Does he still e-mail?

Yeah. He does. About every two weeks.

This man scores higher on the threat level scale than Man with the Cockroach Tattoos. (Who, after all, is guilty of nothing more than terrifying bad taste.) You see, Mr. E-mail has made it clear that he ignores what I say when he wants something from me. Now, I don’t know if he is an actual rapist, and I sincerely hope he’s not. But he is certainly Schrödinger’s Rapist, and this particular Schrödinger’s Rapist has a probability ratio greater than one in sixty. Because a man who ignores a woman’s NO in a non-sexual setting is more likely to ignore NO in a sexual setting, as well.

So if you speak to a woman who is otherwise occupied, you’re sending a subtle message. It is that your desire to interact trumps her right to be left alone. If you pursue a conversation when she’s tried to cut it off, you send a message. It is that your desire to speak trumps her right to be left alone. And each of those messages indicates that you believe your desires are a legitimate reason to override her rights.

For women, who are watching you very closely to determine how much of a threat you are, this is an important piece of data.

an excerpt from Phaedra Starling’s “Schrödinger’s Rapist: or a guy’s guide to approaching strange women without being maced” (via lostgrrrls)

HOLY FUCK THE TRUTH.

Can every one of my male followers read this? And please, before you get defensive (“I would never rape anyone!”) keep in mind, women being afraid of Shrodinger’s Rapists (oh my god i still can’t get over the encompassing brilliance of this phrase) is a conditioned, learned response from being immersed in rape culture and the evolution of sexism and sexual violence in our society from the day we’re born. And unfortunately, it’s very difficult to unlearn without the efforts of all genders to dismantle it. Which is where you come in.

(via lil-ith)

It’s also just rude and disrespectful to patently ignore what someone has told you regarding their personal space, body, and time. Get a clue.

(via geekdomme)

I will always reblog this. Always.

(via myherocomplex)

So if you speak to a woman who is otherwise occupied, you’re sending a subtle message. It is that your desire to interact trumps her right to be left alone.

(via alamaris)

yes

(via thefitally)

(Source: lostgrrrls, via spoopanna)

Filed under tw: rape rape culture schrodinger's rapist yes all women