Pixie. 20. Swedish/Tunisian. Biology Student.
Aspiring Zoologists. Belly dancing. Crazed otaku.

10th February 2014

Video reblogged from AnimeXMangaXInternet with 365,086 notes

memento-monet:

roseanneathema:

jvmieryandee:

scardeycas:

mister-holmes:

sailor-rina:

salve-amicus:

Anti-rape wear. Its almost impervious to knife attacks and tearing/stretching.

The waist and thigh extremities of the garment are cut and tear resistant (the guy in the video cant cut them with industrial scissors) and they cannot be moved more than a few centimetres when locked into place, the forward area in front of the genitals is also reinforced.

Please, for the love of god, even if you cant donate, just spread this idea wherever you can, they need $50,000 to be able to manufacture it and they currently have just over $6,000 with 20 days left.

Go to igg.me/at/AR-Wear to donate and/or view their full info.

PLEASE PLEASE SIGNAL BOOST THE SHIT OUT OF THIS I WANT MY NOTIFICATIONS FILLED WITH LIKES AND REBLOGS OF THIS

GUYS THERE ARE ONLY TWENTY DAYS LEFT AND THEYRE STILL FAR FROM THEIR GOAL
IF YOU CANT DONATE AT LEAST REBLOG TO SPREAD THE WORD

OK WTF

TUMBLR IS SO ANTI-RAPE SO WHYYY DOESNT THIS HAVE HUNDREDS OF THOUSANDS OF NOTES??? SPREAD THE WORD!

It’s really upsetting to think that this kind of thing even needs to be invented/used but it obviously does and it’s important. I think the idea and concept will give women confidence and security IF they need it. Watch the video and if you can’t donate anything, reblog the post :) 

Too broke to donate, but I’ll boost the hell out of this.

This is brilliant.

Source: salve-amicus

30th January 2014

Photo reblogged from AnimeXMangaXInternet with 103,292 notes

lovingmarlseveryminute:

Fun Fact: that guy in the video actually rescued and saved that lion when he was a cub. He then visited the lion when he grew older, and it recognized him, which is why he was embraced in a hug.

lovingmarlseveryminute:

Fun Fact: that guy in the video actually rescued and saved that lion when he was a cub. He then visited the lion when he grew older, and it recognized him, which is why he was embraced in a hug.

Source: smosh

30th January 2014

Photo reblogged from ☀ morning sun with 13,625 notes

dollywaifu:

<3

dollywaifu:

<3

Source: kirakiradoodles

30th January 2014

Photoset reblogged from A blog. with 75,449 notes

becausemypenranoutofink:

exitinsistexist:

from Beauty by Rino Stefano Tagliafierro

This is both beautiful and very disturbing.

Source: exitinsistexist

29th January 2014

Photo reblogged from WOLVES with 1,039 notes

wolveswolves:

Rainforest wolves can successfully catch over 200 salmon in a single evening of fishing
Picture by Ian McAllister

wolveswolves:

Rainforest wolves can successfully catch over 200 salmon in a single evening of fishing

Picture by Ian McAllister

29th January 2014

Photoset reblogged from (ノ≧∀≦)ノ☆*・゜゚・* video games have ruined my life * with 205,210 notes

natsui:

how come i can keep a poker face on when reading aggressive frickling and frackling but i end up a gooey mess when there are cute nose boops and shy kisses and shit

Source: natsui

29th January 2014

Photo reblogged from WILDE THING with 186,526 notes

nadiaaboulhosn:

inabluebox:

“I also thank Angelina for dressing in hijab while she visited not just Iraqi refugees but refugees in Afghanistan and Pakistan. Not only did she look good in it, she showed respect and appreciation for their culture and religion and made sure that the focus was not on her looks but rather her mission.”

this is showing respect. not taking model pictures in front of a mosque. bye.

nadiaaboulhosn:

inabluebox:

I also thank Angelina for dressing in hijab while she visited not just Iraqi refugees but refugees in Afghanistan and Pakistan. Not only did she look good in it, she showed respect and appreciation for their culture and religion and made sure that the focus was not on her looks but rather her mission.”

this is showing respect. not taking model pictures in front of a mosque. bye.

Source: inabluebox

29th January 2014

Post reblogged from AnimeXMangaXInternet with 102,988 notes

bronzebasilisk:

smitethepatriarchy:

bubonickitten:

capitolhillofficial:

capitolhillofficial:

Dragons are henceforth a feminist icon. You’re no longer allowed to participate in the appreciation of dragons and dragons in culture unless you’re totally down for helping the equality movement. 

Anti-feminist blogs are mad about this post so everyone should reblog it.

I saved this image off Tumblr awhile ago and I never thought I’d find another use for it

image

FUCK YES.

APPROVED

Source: foxyplaydate

29th January 2014

Quote reblogged from Sexism! As Seen on Facebook with 70,900 notes

i.

“Your name is Tasbeeh. Don’t let them call you by anything else.”

My mother speaks to me in Arabic; the command sounds more forceful in her mother tongue, a Libyan dialect that is all sharp edges and hard, guttural sounds. I am seven years old and it has never occurred to me to disobey my mother. Until twelve years old, I would believe God gave her the supernatural ability to tell when I’m lying.

“Don’t let them give you an English nickname,” my mother insists once again, “I didn’t raise amreekan.”

My mother spits out this last word with venom. Amreekan. Americans. It sounds like a curse coming out of her mouth. Eight years in this country and she’s still not convinced she lives here. She wears her headscarf tightly around her neck, wades across the school lawn in long, floor-skimming skirts. Eight years in this country and her tongue refuses to bend and soften for the English language. It embarrasses me, her heavy Arab tongue, wrapping itself so forcefully around the clumsy syllables of English, strangling them out of their meaning.

But she is fierce and fearless. I have never heard her apologize to anyone. She will hold up long grocery lines checking and double-checking the receipt in case they’re trying to cheat us. My humiliation is heavy enough for the both of us. My English is not. Sometimes I step away, so people don’t know we’re together but my dark hair and skin betray me as a member of her tribe.

On my first day of school, my mother presses a kiss to my cheek.

“Your name is Tasbeeh,” she says again, like I’ve forgotten. “Tasbeeh.”

ii.

Roll call is the worst part of my day. After a long list of Brittanys, Jonathans, Ashleys, and Yen-but-call-me-Jens, the teacher rests on my name in silence. She squints. She has never seen this combination of letters strung together in this order before. They are incomprehensible. What is this h doing at the end? Maybe it is a typo.

“Tas…?”

“Tasbeeh,” I mutter, with my hand half up in the air. “Tasbeeh.”

A pause.

“Do you go by anything else?”

“No,” I say. “Just Tasbeeh. Tas-beeh.”

“Tazbee. All right. Alex?”

She moves on before I can correct her. She said it wrong. She said it so wrong. I have never heard my name said so ugly before, like it’s a burden. Her entire face contorts as she says it, like she is expelling a distasteful thing from her mouth. She avoids saying it for the rest of the day, but she has already baptized me with this new name. It is the name everyone knows me by, now, for the next six years I am in elementary school. “Tazbee,” a name with no grace, no meaning, no history; it belongs in no language.

“Tazbee,” says one of the students on the playground, later. “Like Tazmanian Devil?” Everyone laughs. I laugh too. It is funny, if you think about it.

iii.

I do not correct anyone for years. One day, in third grade, a plane flies above our school.

“Your dad up there, Bin Laden?” The voice comes from behind. It is dripping in derision.

“My name is Tazbee,” I say. I said it in this heavy English accent, so he may know who I am. I am American. But when I turn around they are gone.

iv.

I go to middle school far, far away. It is a 30-minute drive from our house. It’s a beautiful set of buildings located a few blocks off the beach. I have never in my life seen so many blond people, so many colored irises. This is a school full of Ashtons and Penelopes, Patricks and Sophias. Beautiful names that belong to beautiful faces. The kind of names that promise a lifetime of social triumph.

I am one of two headscarved girls at this new school. We are assigned the same gym class. We are the only ones in sweatpants and long-sleeved undershirts. We are both dreading roll call. When the gym teacher pauses at my name, I am already red with humiliation.

“How do I say your name?” she asks.

“Tazbee,” I say.

“Can I just call you Tess?”

I want to say yes. Call me Tess. But my mother will know, somehow. She will see it written in my eyes. God will whisper it in her ear. Her disappointment will overwhelm me.

“No,” I say, “Please call me Tazbee.”

I don’t hear her say it for the rest of the year.

v.

My history teacher calls me Tashbah for the entire year. It does not matter how often I correct her, she reverts to that misshapen sneeze of a word. It is the ugliest conglomeration of sounds I have ever heard.

When my mother comes to parents’ night, she corrects her angrily, “Tasbeeh. Her name is Tasbeeh.” My history teacher grimaces. I want the world to swallow me up.

vi.

My college professors don’t even bother. I will only know them for a few months of the year. They smother my name in their mouths. It is a hindrance for their tongues. They hand me papers silently. One of them mumbles it unintelligibly whenever he calls on my hand. Another just calls me “T.”

My name is a burden. My name is a burden. My name is a burden. I am a burden.

vii.

On the radio I hear a story about a tribe in some remote, rural place that has no name for the color blue. They do not know what the color blue is. It has no name so it does not exist. It does not exist because it has no name.

viii.

At the start of a new semester, I walk into a math class. My teacher is blond and blue-eyed. I don’t remember his name. When he comes to mine on the roll call, he takes the requisite pause. I hold my breath.

“How do I pronounce your name?” he asks.

I say, “Just call me Tess.”

“Is that how it’s pronounced?”

I say, “No one’s ever been able to pronounce it.”

“That’s probably because they didn’t want to try,” he said. “What is your name?”

When I say my name, it feels like redemption. I have never said it this way before. Tasbeeh. He repeats it back to me several times until he’s got it. It is difficult for his American tongue. His has none of the strength, none of the force of my mother’s. But he gets it, eventually, and it sounds beautiful. I have never heard it sound so beautiful. I have never felt so deserving of a name. My name feels like a crown.

ix.

“Thank you for my name, mama.”

x.

When the barista asks me my name, sharpie poised above the coffee cup, I tell him: “My name is Tasbeeh. It’s a tough t clinging to a soft a, which melts into a silky ssss, which loosely hugs the b, and the rest of my name is a hard whisper — eeh. Tasbeeh. My name is Tasbeeh. Hold it in your mouth until it becomes a prayer. My name is a valuable undertaking. My name requires your rapt attention. Say my name in one swift note – Tasbeeeeeeeh – sand let the h heat your throat like cinnamon. Tasbeeh. My name is an endeavor. My name is a song. Tasbeeh. It means giving glory to God. Tasbeeh. Wrap your tongue around my name, unravel it with the music of your voice, and give God what he is due

Tasbeeh Herwees, The Names They Gave Me (via cat-phuong)

I am weeping.

(via strangeasanjles)

Source: rabbrakha

29th January 2014

Photoset reblogged from Mei's art blog with 5,799 notes

king and prince, father and son

Tagged: baby nox okay

Source: grand-piano

29th January 2014

Photoset reblogged from AnimeXMangaXInternet with 932 notes

Shingeki no #FAIL. (╯°□°)╯︵ ┻━┻

Tagged: snk

Source: zetsueen

29th January 2014

Photoset reblogged from AnimeXMangaXInternet with 555,448 notes

sschol:

this is from spy kids

Source: nasturbate

29th January 2014

Photo reblogged from i am a prince with 57,170 notes

junglelad:

forestferncreations:

dichotomization:

There have been over 90 recorded cases of amphibians being found alive but fully encased in coal pockets or stone geodes. Of these cases, 40 involved frogs or toads. After a few minutes exposed to air it comes-to-life In most cases the animal dies with 24-72 hours but there are some references that when these poor creatures were quickly allowed into fresh pond water they seem to have survived indefinitely.

WOW WHAT

Necromancer a couple millenia ago was just like.
" you know what’d freak some miners out?"

junglelad:

forestferncreations:

dichotomization:

There have been over 90 recorded cases of amphibians being found alive but fully encased in coal pockets or stone geodes. Of these cases, 40 involved frogs or toads. After a few minutes exposed to air it comes-to-life In most cases the animal dies with 24-72 hours but there are some references that when these poor creatures were quickly allowed into fresh pond water they seem to have survived indefinitely.

WOW WHAT

Necromancer a couple millenia ago was just like.

" you know what’d freak some miners out?"

29th January 2014

Photoset reblogged from i am a prince with 365 notes

Tagged: killuahunter x hunter

Source: killuas-complex

28th January 2014

Photoset reblogged from AnimeXMangaXInternet with 262,151 notes

i thought it said vegetarian i was so confused

Source: pleatedjeans