Debido a la escasez de imaginas en español y sobre todo de Marvel, me he tomado la molestia de crear este blog. Espero que lo disfruten tanto como lo disfruto yo al hacerlo.
Op maybe you just hate women. Like really, are the words that I type on this stupid blue website actually worth you commiting a murder for? You can't even ask for extra ketchup at McDonald's and you're gonna what? Kill somebody? Be fucking for real. Go outside, see a psychologist for your violent thoughts, and shut the fuck up forever
If your feminism doesn't include poor women, disabled women, mentally ill women, LGBT women, sex workers and women of colour it's not feminism!!!
Okay.
I tick almost all your boxes. So how are you helping me? How are you fighting for my rights, my safety, my dignity or my freedom?
I am poor. How are you helping me? By encouraging me to prostitute myself. You're telling me it's a job like any other, better even, because I will be my own boss, be empowered and sexually liberated, if only I let men I don't know nor desire penetrate my body for money. For some reason it's not a job you are very keen on doing yourself. But it could be a great opportunity for me. That's it. That's all you are doing. You've never volunteered at your local food bank, you've never donated to a homeless shelter, oh but you know how I can get out of poverty. By letting men fuck me.
I'm disabled. How are you helping me? By drawing shitty cartoons of naked women in wheelchairs singing "all body types are beautiful". I don't give a damn about that. I care about getting a job despite my disabilities. I care about getting financial support to deal with my disabilities. I care about not being assaulted by men because of my disabilities. Meanwhile you're sharing photoshoots of amputees in lingery to prove we're all fuckable.
I'm bi and gender non conforming. I've been harassed and beaten for it. I've been called "sir" or a "dyke". I've struggled with dysphoria for the better part of my life. I need people to stop assuming femininity = womanhood in order to be safe. And how are you helping me? By calling me a que*r relentlessly, no matter how many times I ask you to stop. By telling me I'm not a real woman because I don't fit gender stereotypes. By claiming I have a male brain and people like me will probably end up committing suicide if we don't get injected with artificial hormones. By telling me I'm a bigot if I don't agree to date men, no matter how they identify.
I struggle with PTSD and depression, like a lot of women. How are you helping me? By sending me private messages telling me to commit suicide for the opinions I just shared. By cheering men on, when they send me graphic rape and death threats. It seems mentally ill women can actually go fuck themselves in your very inclusive feminism.
I'm often mistaken for an "arab", a "muslim", and treated accordingly. How are you fighting racism and helping me get equal opportunities and safety? By using people of colour as talking points on the internet. By waving them like props. By drawing shitty cartoons again and turning us into your token woc, putting words in our mouthes.. By calling basic worldwide feminism "white feminism". By calling feminists of colour "nazis". By calling ex muslim women who risk their lives speaking out "islamophobic". By claiming white men who use they/them pronouns are oppressed by us. By chanting that we should be hanged. By saying that if we allow black women to play sports with white women then surely we should accept men. By being completely ignorant about what happens in non western countries and not caring one bit because you're too busy advocating in favour of the most racist industry of all; pornography.
I have many friends who've been in the sex industry. I see how you treat them. Yes, I see how much you care for sex workers everyday. I see how you fight for their rights... by throwing your fists in their faces. When you beat them up at feminist protests for carrying a sign that says prostitution harms women. I see how central they are to your feminism, when you declare that what happened to them, what left them with PTSD and disabilities, should be legalized. When you call them "sluts" and "whores" against their will. When you intimidate them into keeping quiet. When you interrupt their lectures. When you shout "listen to sex workers!!!" only to turn your back on them the minute they don't say what you want them to say.
Your feminism is purely performative. We're nothing but pawns to you. Not only do you not do anything to actually help us, but you treat us like dirt the minute we contradict you. I'll help a victim of male violence no matter what her beliefs are. I'll help you, even though I think your opinions are abhorrent. But you think I deserve to be beaten to death for disagreeing with you. I'm "included" as long as I keep my mouth shut. I'm sick of you. Stop trying to use me. You don't care. You don't do anything. You're a joke. You don't speak for me. You don't represent my interests. I don't want to appear on your shitty cartoons. You know nothing about class struggle.
Reblogging because I've seen this person come up on my dash a few times already.
OP is a TERF and has no problem stating that they hate men and transwomen. Super trolly as well. Figures though since it's a 20 year old ignorant kid basically.
Ok so I read an Au where Peter din't disappear in Infinity war but instedand of him was Y/n, who was Tony's daughter, the one who disappear. And there is a watch that y/n gives to peter when she makes a promise about having a date with peter in 5 years.
I read this like 3 weeks ago in the bus and I didn't like the post so now I can't find it.
Go to paypal.me/Ale1008 and type in the amount. Since it’s PayPal, it's easy and secure. Don’t have a PayPal account? No worries.
Please help me reading this, is very personal and my calling for help.
Ok, I never imagined having to do this and as I write it I feel very embarrassed. As some of you know, I told you last year that I was in a horrible situation, in which my family found out that I was abused by my aunt’s partner. This situation of keeping everything secret for so many years caused me many problems.
To begin with for many years I doubted if the abuse had really existed, I wanted to convince myself that everything was a dream, although deep down I knew it was not.
That also caused me to had rejection of my own body, so I have low self-esteem and eating disorder since I was 14 years old.
At 15 I started having panic attacks and hurt myself , so that made me lose a school year for the first time.
At 19 I started having panic attacks when I was leaving home and I did not know how to explain it to my family, I was embarrassed and angry not to know what was happening to me, that’s how I began to remember that child abuse more clearly. My family thought I was not going to study because I was lazy, so I stopped going to school in the middle of the year. Everyone talked about my depression as if it were something invented, a joke, a whim that I had.
The next year I tried again, I did not sleep all night, but I went to my first day of class, which happened horrible, I could not stop vomiting. I decided that I had to talk to my parents. They understood immediately and took me to the psychiatrist and psychologist, who diagnosed me: very low self-esteem, anxiety, eating disorder, depression and my biggest enemy, social anxiety.
I began to go to psychotherapy and little by little I was getting better, I went back to talking with some friends, to eat a little better and something that I thought I was never going to value so much, bathe often.
But there was something that was still there, the abuser, I had to tell everyone that this man was a rapist pedophile because even that for everyone he was an angel, I knew the monster that he really was.
Well, I did it one day, without wanting to, because my grandmother called me on the phone while I was cooking to ask, very calmly, if this man had ever done anything to me.
I did not know what to do, I started to have very strong tachycardia and the crying came out, I said yes and I gave her the details that she needed.
But…
She did not believe me.
I cried much louder and finished the call, immediately I got a message from her asking me not to say anything to my aunt, because it was going to ruin his life.
It seems that the only one who could suffer was me.
My aunt found out anyway because she was listening to the conversation from the other room and there started a new nightmare, my whole family found out.
My parents and siblings were with me, the rest of my family pointed to me and yelled at me that I was a liar.
The attacks started again, but I try to be stronger. I started a new year and I went back to try to finish high school, I’m in the last year of art, and for now I’m doing well, but after 2 years locked up at home I use my only energy in going to study and work as a volunteer in a school with disabled children every Tuesdays.
But now I’m 20 almost 21 and I can not have a job, because I need to concentrate 100% on the study and I do not want to risk getting a job that I have to leave due to anxiety attacks until at least November, when if everything goes well, I graduated.
So I’m very embarrassed to be doing this but, if you could donate even $ 1, I will be very grateful because in my country it is very helpful. And if you can’t donate it’s ok too!! Please reblog, and thank you for reading this.
Also if you see bad grammar please tell me too, English is not my first language.
why would 8 be brought up if it’s EVEN in a post about ODDS??????? the post said “every single ODD number has an ‘e’ in it” not “every single number with an ‘e’ is odd” what the fuck
No sabias como había pasado tan rápido, estabas sentada en la cama con Peter repasando las ultimas dos clases de Física, la charla era fluida y se reían de a ratos, ahora estabas acostada con Peter arriba besándote mientras sostenías su cabeza cerca.
Tampoco te habías dado cuenta de en que momento ambos se habían quitado parte de la ropa. Estabas en sostén, con el short aun en su lugar pero con el cierre bajo mientras que Peter estaba solo en ropa interior.
Pasaste las manos por su espalda mientras el bajaba a besar tu cuello, todo iba bien hasta que sintieron un golpe en la puerta.
- Peter, el señor Stark está aquí - La tía de Peter abrió un poco la puerta pero enseguida la cerro - Oh! Lo siento! No vi nada!
- Tía May! Ya vamos, dile que espere unos minutos.
- ¿Stark? ¿Como Tony Stark? - Preguntaste mientras te subías el cierre de short y alcanzabas tu camiseta del suelo.
- Eh... si, el viene seguido, por una beca que me dio.
- ¿Mi hermano viene seguido a tu casa por una beca? - Preguntaste levantando la voz mientras te vestías mas rápidamente.
- ¿Tony Stark es tu hermano? Oh dios, el va a matarme.
- El nunca dijo nada sobre ninguna beca, ni que estuviera yendo a las casas de los becados.
- Y tu nunca me dijiste que Tony Stark era tu hermano, ni siquiera tienes su apellido!
- Si lo tengo, solo que uso el de mi madre, es mas seguro si nadie me reconoce en la escuela, sin contar que no salgo frente a una cámara desde que tengo 10 años!
- El señor Stark va a enojarse por esto.
- OH! - Gritaste
- ¿Que? ¿Que sucede ahora?
- No hay ninguna beca! Tony me dijo que se estaba viendo con el chico que llevaba el traje ese de la araña! Eres tu!
Peter cubrió tu boca rápidamente con su mano.
- No grites! Mi tía no tiene porque saberlo!
- No puedo creer que esto me este pasando mi hermano va a matarme esta vez.
