emerald-avenger:

tarteauxfraises:

kendrajbean:

In the mid-1930s, an Australian journalist visited Germany to report on the rise of fascism and interview Adolf Hitler. The atrocities she saw there, which included the public beating of Jews, forever changed the course of her young life. Nancy Wake, who died Sunday at age 98, would spend World War II fighting Nazism tooth and nail, saving thousands of Allied lives, winding up at the top of the Gestapo’s most-wanted list and ultimately receiving more decorations than any other servicewoman.
Wake made her way from Spain to Britain, where she convinced special agents to train her as a spy and guerilla operative. In April 1944 she parachuted into France to coordinate attacks on German troops and installations prior to the D-Day invasion, leading a band of 7,000 resistance fighters. In order to earn the esteem of the men under her command, she reportedly challenged them to drinking contests and would inevitably drink them under the table. But her fierceness alone may have won her enough respect: During the violent months preceding the liberation of Paris, Wake killed a German guard with a single karate chop to the neck, executed a women who had been spying for the Germans, shot her way out of roadblocks and biked 70 hours through perilous Nazi checkpoints to deliver radio codes for the Allies. (via)



I’m going to keep talking about this until you all buy her god damn biography. Because I don’t think you guys understand.
She was NUMBER ONE on the Gestapo’s most wanted list during the war.  There was a 5 MILLION FRANC prize on her head.
They called her the White Mouse because of her skill for escaping certain death. 
She was parachuting into a camp once and got tangled in a tree. A French soldier saw her flailing around and said, “I hope that all the trees in France bear such beautiful fruit this year.” She answered only, “Don’t give me that French shit.”
She would smuggle messages, food, and supplies in a supply truck and when she passed German posts she’d wink at the soldiers and say, “Do you want to search me?” They never did.
She found out at one point that her men had been hiding a female German spy, protecting her. The rule was to kill them, but the men didn’t have the heart. But Nancy Wake did. And she never regretted it.
When she killed a man with her bare hands, it was an SS sentry who’d spotted her and she killed him to prevent him from raising the alarm during the raid. She would later say of it, “They’d taught us this judo-chop stuff with the flat of the hand at SOE, and I practiced away at it. But this was the only time I used it - whack - and it killed him all right. I was really surprised.”
She died in 2011, 3 weeks before her 99th birthday.
If you don’t think Nancy Wake deserves a movie and a TV show and all the damn recognition in the world, you’re wrong. 

emerald-avenger:

tarteauxfraises:

kendrajbean:

In the mid-1930s, an Australian journalist visited Germany to report on the rise of fascism and interview Adolf Hitler. The atrocities she saw there, which included the public beating of Jews, forever changed the course of her young life. Nancy Wake, who died Sunday at age 98, would spend World War II fighting Nazism tooth and nail, saving thousands of Allied lives, winding up at the top of the Gestapo’s most-wanted list and ultimately receiving more decorations than any other servicewoman.

Wake made her way from Spain to Britain, where she convinced special agents to train her as a spy and guerilla operative. In April 1944 she parachuted into France to coordinate attacks on German troops and installations prior to the D-Day invasion, leading a band of 7,000 resistance fighters. In order to earn the esteem of the men under her command, she reportedly challenged them to drinking contests and would inevitably drink them under the table. But her fierceness alone may have won her enough respect: During the violent months preceding the liberation of Paris, Wake killed a German guard with a single karate chop to the neck, executed a women who had been spying for the Germans, shot her way out of roadblocks and biked 70 hours through perilous Nazi checkpoints to deliver radio codes for the Allies. (via)

I’m going to keep talking about this until you all buy her god damn biography. Because I don’t think you guys understand.

She was NUMBER ONE on the Gestapo’s most wanted list during the war.  There was a 5 MILLION FRANC prize on her head.

They called her the White Mouse because of her skill for escaping certain death. 

She was parachuting into a camp once and got tangled in a tree. A French soldier saw her flailing around and said, “I hope that all the trees in France bear such beautiful fruit this year.” She answered only, “Don’t give me that French shit.”

She would smuggle messages, food, and supplies in a supply truck and when she passed German posts she’d wink at the soldiers and say, “Do you want to search me?” They never did.

She found out at one point that her men had been hiding a female German spy, protecting her. The rule was to kill them, but the men didn’t have the heart. But Nancy Wake did. And she never regretted it.

When she killed a man with her bare hands, it was an SS sentry who’d spotted her and she killed him to prevent him from raising the alarm during the raid. She would later say of it, “They’d taught us this judo-chop stuff with the flat of the hand at SOE, and I practiced away at it. But this was the only time I used it - whack - and it killed him all right. I was really surprised.”

She died in 2011, 3 weeks before her 99th birthday.

If you don’t think Nancy Wake deserves a movie and a TV show and all the damn recognition in the world, you’re wrong. 

(via marys16th)

eriklovescharles:

The things Charles Xavier forgot to mention to Logan:

1. Erik and I were lovers.

2. Erik and I started the X-Men.

3. I was a drunk.

4. I was a slut.

5. I was a drug addict.

6. I used to hate my mutation.

7. I spent ten years not giving a fuck about mutants.

8. I met you years ago at a bar and you told me to “fuck off…”

9. Erik and I broke up. And he created the Brotherhood to piss me off.

10. And to be honest; I don’t care if Erik aka Magneto tries to kill every single fucking X-Men on the planet (including you). I will forgive him and take him back as my lover and boyfriend.

and

11. And for the past 50 plus years; Erik has enjoyed getting in drag. But I suggest you never mention it to him.

(Source: x-menunited, via marys16th)

hale-the-majesty:

noizs-nipples:

adriofthedead:

kumagawa:

in the tumblr tagging system, unsourced artwork is considered especially heinous. on this blogging platform, the users who source these felonies are part of an elite task force called the source your fucking artwork unit. these are their stories.

image

image

if you didn’t read that and hear the narrator’s voice, you’RE LYING

(via marys16th)

stansusedbloggingemporium:

When I was just starting high school, a girl who rode my bus invited me to stay the night at her house and when I did she got really emotional and told me no girls ever stayed over because she was a lesbian and if you don’t think that’s the saddest thing ever you need to re-evaluate your life

(via marys16th)

I’m calling Dean.

(Source: samwinchesterappreciation, via mooseleys)

makochantachibanana:

theblogofeternalstench:

I didn’t want to go to an engagement party, so I was asked to babysit my sister’s ridiculous dog instead.

you’ve made the right choice

(via marys16th)

vrappi:

Insert coin
And be ready

vrappi:

Insert coin

And be ready

(via libbywednesday)

otakuwithbrooklynrage:

colorfulrussianfireworks:

image

HOLY SHIT THERE IS A BOOK ABOUT ME 
ROSE ARE YOU SEEING THIS

image

I….
DAVE ARE YOU SEEING THIS?

image

WILL YOU GUYS SHUT THE FUCK UP I AM TRYING TO SEE IF SENPAI WILL NOTICE THIS GIRL 

I just noticed that it’s the same person

(via libbywednesday)

gothiccharmschool:

losertakesall:

ilikeprettyclothes:

fromcarouseltohair:

allyssumdays:

Everyone has rolls when they bend over. Everyone. Lets just get this out of the way right off the bat. In the last few months, I’ve had over 30 women ranging from rail thin to extra large naked in my bed and I would routinely ask them to hug their knees. You won’t believe this… ALL OF THEM HAD TUMMY ROLLS. Not one was exempt. Even my super fabulous professional model 6 foot tall and some amazing Katie had rolls. The stomach pictures turned into some of my favorite images from the project… so quit thinking they’re bad, and try accepting (dare I say embracing?) yours!When people say “you’re gorgeous”, believe them. I tend not to, and it’s a cryin’ shame. When people genuinely compliment you, it’s because they really see it. Try to not dismiss their perspective as wrong and assume that you know better. They see all of you. We see our flaws. Believe them.“Arm flab is embarrassing.” No its not, go fuck yourself. No, not you. The people who tell us that, silly.You’re not stunning despite your body. You’re stunning because of your body. There is a distinct difference. I grew up in a culture that would deem “unattractive” women as “special spirits”. A degrading categorization that implied that the only thing worthwhile was whatever was inside. Well, yeah. We are all much much more than our bodies, but our bodies are a beautiful part of us too. Beauty comes from the inside AND the outside.  I am of the firm belief that every person is beautiful, and so this leaves the inside to be the part that is the most telling when it comes to true “beauty”.A guy can pick you up off your feet, and it won’t break his back.  “Wait, whaaaaaa Jes? You’re full of shit.” Nope. This just happened to me for the first time in… six years? I’m considerably heavier than I was 6 years ago (like… 70 pounds heavier) and so when I ran up to my friend Eric for a hug and he picked me up with my heels in the air… it left me breathless. I had forgotten that it was possible; I had accepted a life void of being lifted. So exhilarating. Eric didn’t suffer any injuries and walked away unscathed.You don’t need to exercise every day in order to feel better about yourself. Many believe that someone who’s fat needs to exercise as much as possible in order to prove that they’re committed to becoming “less fat”. As if accepting one’s body as is would be a sin, and that’s just silly. Yes, exercising has wonderful physical and mental benefits, but you don’t owe it to anyone else to make an effort to change your body unless you wanna. You do not have to alter yourself to be okay. Period.You’re allowed to fall in love with yourself. I promise. This will be the scariest thing you will ever do, and that’s okay. It will also be the most amazing (albeit super gradual) experience you will ever have. It doesn’t make you narcissistic. It doesn’t make you vain. It is liberating in every form of the word.

It’s also okay to have days where you don’t love yourself. Read this. No really. Read it. And then realize that we’ve grown up learning and internalizing that we are not okay our entire life. For me, that’s 26 years of self-hate indoctrination and brainwashing.  It’s going to take a lot longer than you think to reverse this thinking, and it’s definitely not going to happen overnight. Allow yourself to have “weak” days. Cry, mourn, sob, yell, throw things. Whichever. Then get up, brush yourself off, give the media the finger, and move forward because you’re a warrior.Everyone’s boobs are uneven. If you have a lot of boobs, they might be way uneven.  Don’t stress. This is totally normal.There are people who prefer large ladies. And I mean all sizes of large. I thought that my best bet in life was to find a partner who accepted my fat. Pause. Give me a minute to hang my head and shake it at myself. Not only are there people who adore “thick” women, but a LOT of them who prefer it. This eventually ends up in an interesting territory which Marianne talks about here, but the point that I’m trying to make goes back to the “despite vs because of” argument. Here is what you need to know: you do NOT need to settle for a lover who is “okay” with your body. You have the right (and millions of opportunities) to find someone who is infatuated with your body. You deserve to be worshiped, woman!Fat chicks bang hot guys… ALL. THE. TIME.I know that hot is relative and all inclusive depending on who you chat with, but for these purposes, lets talk about the “universally attractive” kind of hot. Y’know, the kind fat chicks don’t deserve? We want to pretend that we don’t know what I’m talking about, but lets be real; we totally do. The fact that “fat chicks bang ‘hot’ guys” was one of the most powerful realizations I’ve had thus far. In line with the above paragraph, I knew that there would be someone that would find me attractive but the pool would be small (because of my body) and potentially full of guys I didn’t personally find sexy. So I would have to settle for anyone that would take me. After all, how could a conventionally gorgeous man (tall and with tattoos of course) like fat chicks?  Weh-he-hell, let me tell you somethin’: through various sites, events, parties, and corner store meetings, I found myself with over a hundred men who were champing at the bit to get with this. I was the one who had to sift through and pick the hottest of the hot. Ladies, over a hundred. “Girls” showed what society thinks about that when Hannah’s character has a weekend romance with an attractive and wealthy doctor. People flipped their shit. “Patrick Wilson is so hot he would never do Lena Dunham” was the most eye catching. Wilson’s wife responded to that rubbish here, but the tweet speaks volumes about what the majority of people think unconventional women deserve. Jesus christ, it’s annoying. I won’t spill the details of my bedroom coming and goings, but lets just say this: the hottest guys in Tucson and I get along just fine. I would recommend reading Emily’s article on xoJane for a better explanation of what I’m struggling to say. Know this: the myth that “atypical” bodies can’t be paired with “typically attractive” bodies is false. Women need to know that all bodies can be paired with all bodies.Riding during sex will NOT collapse his insides. Just trust me on this one, what you fear is totally false. Here’s a great article that changed my life.Wearing whatever you want is a political statement. Join the revolution. Throw style rules out the window. Wear the tutu. Wear the horizontal stripes. Wear the turquoise skinny jeans. Wear the see-through blouse. Wear the bikini. Wear the sweat pants. Wear the shirt that says “Does this shirt make me look fat?”. Wear whatever it is that makes you happy. This is your life.You are fucking beautiful. I’m saying this with a straight face and seriously meaningful look where I maintain eye contact for an uncomfortable amount of time. I know you don’t feel like you fit into the category of gorgeous that our world creates. I know that its hard. I know that its a daily battle. But fuck their fascist beauty standards. The second you stop looking for a skinny model in your mirror and start looking at YOU… is the second you will start to appreciate what you are. Stop looking for flaws. Stop looking for differences. You are perfect. You are more than enough. You are the best thing that has ever happened to you. And you are fucking beautiful.Say it with me.

I’m actively sobbing.

Reblogging again because of awesomeness.

I can’t even handle this right now.

True. All of it. (And hi, I’m working on being more accepting of my upper arms, because I want to wear sleeveless things this summer.)

gothiccharmschool:

losertakesall:

ilikeprettyclothes:

fromcarouseltohair:

allyssumdays:

Everyone has rolls when they bend over. Everyone. Lets just get this out of the way right off the bat. In the last few months, I’ve had over 30 women ranging from rail thin to extra large naked in my bed and I would routinely ask them to hug their knees. You won’t believe this… ALL OF THEM HAD TUMMY ROLLS. Not one was exempt. Even my super fabulous professional model 6 foot tall and some amazing Katie had rolls. The stomach pictures turned into some of my favorite images from the project… so quit thinking they’re bad, and try accepting (dare I say embracing?) yours!

When people say “you’re gorgeous”, believe them. I tend not to, and it’s a cryin’ shame. When people genuinely compliment you, it’s because they really see it. Try to not dismiss their perspective as wrong and assume that you know better. They see all of you. We see our flaws. Believe them.

“Arm flab is embarrassing.” No its not, go fuck yourself. No, not you. The people who tell us that, silly.

You’re not stunning despite your body. You’re stunning because of your body. There is a distinct difference. I grew up in a culture that would deem “unattractive” women as “special spirits”. A degrading categorization that implied that the only thing worthwhile was whatever was inside. Well, yeah. We are all much much more than our bodies, but our bodies are a beautiful part of us too. Beauty comes from the inside AND the outside.  I am of the firm belief that every person is beautiful, and so this leaves the inside to be the part that is the most telling when it comes to true “beauty”.

A guy can pick you up off your feet, and it won’t break his back.  “Wait, whaaaaaa Jes? You’re full of shit.” Nope. This just happened to me for the first time in… six years? I’m considerably heavier than I was 6 years ago (like… 70 pounds heavier) and so when I ran up to my friend Eric for a hug and he picked me up with my heels in the air… it left me breathless. I had forgotten that it was possible; I had accepted a life void of being lifted. So exhilarating. Eric didn’t suffer any injuries and walked away unscathed.

You don’t need to exercise every day in order to feel better about yourself. Many believe that someone who’s fat needs to exercise as much as possible in order to prove that they’re committed to becoming “less fat”. As if accepting one’s body as is would be a sin, and that’s just silly. Yes, exercising has wonderful physical and mental benefits, but you don’t owe it to anyone else to make an effort to change your body unless you wanna. You do not have to alter yourself to be okay. Period.

You’re allowed to fall in love with yourself. I promise. This will be the scariest thing you will ever do, and that’s okay. It will also be the most amazing (albeit super gradual) experience you will ever have. It doesn’t make you narcissistic. It doesn’t make you vain. It is liberating in every form of the word.

image


It’s also okay to have days where you don’t love yourself. Read this. No really. Read it. And then realize that we’ve grown up learning and internalizing that we are not okay our entire life. For me, that’s 26 years of self-hate indoctrination and brainwashing.  It’s going to take a lot longer than you think to reverse this thinking, and it’s definitely not going to happen overnight. Allow yourself to have “weak” days. Cry, mourn, sob, yell, throw things. Whichever. Then get up, brush yourself off, give the media the finger, and move forward because you’re a warrior.

Everyone’s boobs are uneven. If you have a lot of boobs, they might be way uneven.  Don’t stress. This is totally normal.

There are people who prefer large ladies. And I mean all sizes of large. I thought that my best bet in life was to find a partner who accepted my fat. Pause. Give me a minute to hang my head and shake it at myself. Not only are there people who adore “thick” women, but a LOT of them who prefer it. This eventually ends up in an interesting territory which Marianne talks about here, but the point that I’m trying to make goes back to the “despite vs because of” argument. Here is what you need to know: you do NOT need to settle for a lover who is “okay” with your body. You have the right (and millions of opportunities) to find someone who is infatuated with your body. You deserve to be worshiped, woman!

Fat chicks bang hot guys… ALL. THE. TIME.I know that hot is relative and all inclusive depending on who you chat with, but for these purposes, lets talk about the “universally attractive” kind of hot. Y’know, the kind fat chicks don’t deserve? We want to pretend that we don’t know what I’m talking about, but lets be real; we totally do. The fact that “fat chicks bang ‘hot’ guys” was one of the most powerful realizations I’ve had thus far. In line with the above paragraph, I knew that there would be someone that would find me attractive but the pool would be small (because of my body) and potentially full of guys I didn’t personally find sexy. So I would have to settle for anyone that would take me. After all, how could a conventionally gorgeous man (tall and with tattoos of course) like fat chicks?  Weh-he-hell, let me tell you somethin’: through various sites, events, parties, and corner store meetings, I found myself with over a hundred men who were champing at the bit to get with this. I was the one who had to sift through and pick the hottest of the hot. Ladies, over a hundred. “Girls” showed what society thinks about that when Hannah’s character has a weekend romance with an attractive and wealthy doctor. People flipped their shit. “Patrick Wilson is so hot he would never do Lena Dunham” was the most eye catching. Wilson’s wife responded to that rubbish here, but the tweet speaks volumes about what the majority of people think unconventional women deserve. Jesus christ, it’s annoying. I won’t spill the details of my bedroom coming and goings, but lets just say this: the hottest guys in Tucson and I get along just fine. I would recommend reading Emily’s article on xoJane for a better explanation of what I’m struggling to say. Know this: the myth that “atypical” bodies can’t be paired with “typically attractive” bodies is false. Women need to know that all bodies can be paired with all bodies.

Riding during sex will NOT collapse his insides. Just trust me on this one, what you fear is totally false. Here’s a great article that changed my life.

Wearing whatever you want is a political statement. Join the revolution. Throw style rules out the window. Wear the tutu. Wear the horizontal stripes. Wear the turquoise skinny jeans. Wear the see-through blouse. Wear the bikini. Wear the sweat pants. Wear the shirt that says “Does this shirt make me look fat?”. Wear whatever it is that makes you happy. This is your life.

You are fucking beautiful. I’m saying this with a straight face and seriously meaningful look where I maintain eye contact for an uncomfortable amount of time. I know you don’t feel like you fit into the category of gorgeous that our world creates. I know that its hard. I know that its a daily battle. But fuck their fascist beauty standards. The second you stop looking for a skinny model in your mirror and start looking at YOU… is the second you will start to appreciate what you are. Stop looking for flaws. Stop looking for differences. You are perfect. You are more than enough. You are the best thing that has ever happened to you. And you are fucking beautiful.

Say it with me.

I’m actively sobbing.

Reblogging again because of awesomeness.

I can’t even handle this right now.

True. All of it. (And hi, I’m working on being more accepting of my upper arms, because I want to wear sleeveless things this summer.)

(via marys16th)