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socialjusticekoolaid:

What they won’t show you on CNN tonight: Ferguson residents line a parade of roses down W Florissant, leading to where Mike Brown was taken from this world. #staywoke #powerful #insolidarity 

(via beanarie)

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yunuen:

fake movies: avengers lady centric au (for nyssa)

Peggy is the one to get stuck in ice in and survive the century. Pepper doesn’t get rid of Extremis and becomes Rescue. Bruce Banner stays under the radar leaving Betty as the authority in gamma radiation. Jane retains some of the Aether’s powers. Thor is busy ruling Asgard, therefore Sif is the one tasked to stop Loki and retrieve the Tesseract. Director Fury rounds them all up along with Black Widow for his Avengers Initiative and, Barton being compromised, Maria Hill steps up as the marksman of the team. 

tldr; the ladies save the world instead

(via beanarie)

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nonmodernist:

bigbangpress:

Here’s a picture from our first book, A Hero at the End of the World, written by Erin Claiborne (eleveninches) and illustrated by Jade Liebes (hydrae). The two guys in this photo are Ewan Mao and his former best friend Oliver Abrams.

As a teenager, Ewan was prophesied to save Britain from an evil tyrant — but chickened out at the last moment. Instead, his best friend Oliver ended up defeating the villain. Five years later, Oliver is a national hero while Ewan works at a coffee shop and still lives with his parents. But the two friends are unwillingly reunited when a magical cult targets Ewan in a plot to end the world.

A Hero at the End of the World is a hilarious and gripping combination of YA fantasy adventure, queer romance, and political satire. It will be published by Big Bang Press on November 11, and you can find out more on our website!

fantasy adventure, queer romance, and political satire - this book is everything i’ve ever wanted in my YA fantasy loving heart

(via fantasyofcolor)

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blackgirlflymag:

An old sketch of Black Rage, done in my living room. Strange, the course of things. Peace for MO.

- MLH

Lyrics: http://mslaurynhill.com/post/95329923112/black-rage-sketch

(via angerisbeautiful-79)

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ancora-vivo:

infuckingsanityy:

tinalikesbutts:

Fucking kids care more about each other than we do

pure hearts

My heart melted

(Source: sizvideos, via beanarie)

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villainette:

What do you mean there was never a plot arc where Boyd got some answers, Erica got to tear shit up, and Danny got to use his talents? 

villainette:

What do you mean there was never a plot arc where Boyd got some answers, Erica got to tear shit up, and Danny got to use his talents? 

(via beanarie)

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soprie:

Stop calling what’s happening in Ferguson a “riot”.

It is not a riot.

Vancouver losing the Stanley Cup a few years ago was a riot. It was angry, drunken destruction with no purpose. (And as a Canadian, it was a shameful event)

Ferguson is not a riot. It is a protest. It is an uprising. It is a civil rights revolution. The prople of Ferguson may be angry, but they have a reason to be angry, and they are not violent, and they are not hooligans, thugs or looters. They are protesting for their human rights which are currently being denied.

Look at the difference between a riot and a protest. A riot is chaos. A protest has a purpose.

1 2

(via beanarie)

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dragonheartedrabbit:

"Waste of good ammo. It’s my privilege to buy you a replacement box."

"All self-respecting whites have a moral responsibility to support our growing number of martyrs to the failed experiment called diversity."

"I thank all Police, you are the ‘Thin Blue Line’ protecting normal Americans from aggressive and entitled primitive savages. America is surely at the tipping point."

Just a few quotes (in case it’s hard to read) from that collection of donation messages for Darren Wilson.

Does anyone else want to say it’s not about race?

Despicable.

(via ethiopienne)

Quote
"

After learning my flight was detained 4 hours,
I heard the announcement:
If anyone in the vicinity of gate 4-A understands any Arabic,
Please come to the gate immediately.

Well—one pauses these days. Gate 4-A was my own gate. I went there.
An older woman in full traditional Palestinian dress,
Just like my grandma wore, was crumpled to the floor, wailing loudly.
Help, said the flight service person. Talk to her. What is her
Problem? we told her the flight was going to be four hours late and she
Did this.

I put my arm around her and spoke to her haltingly.
Shu dow-a, shu- biduck habibti, stani stani schway, min fadlick,
Sho bit se-wee?

The minute she heard any words she knew—however poorly used—
She stopped crying.

She thought our flight had been canceled entirely.
She needed to be in El Paso for some major medical treatment the
Following day. I said no, no, we’re fine, you’ll get there, just late,

Who is picking you up? Let’s call him and tell him.
We called her son and I spoke with him in English.
I told him I would stay with his mother till we got on the plane and
Would ride next to her—Southwest.

She talked to him. Then we called her other sons just for the fun of it.

Then we called my dad and he and she spoke for a while in Arabic and
Found out of course they had ten shared friends.

Then I thought just for the heck of it why not call some Palestinian
Poets I know and let them chat with her. This all took up about 2 hours.

She was laughing a lot by then. Telling about her life. Answering
Questions.

She had pulled a sack of homemade mamool cookies—little powdered
Sugar crumbly mounds stuffed with dates and nuts—out of her bag—
And was offering them to all the women at the gate.

To my amazement, not a single woman declined one. It was like a
Sacrament. The traveler from Argentina, the traveler from California,
The lovely woman from Laredo—we were all covered with the same
Powdered sugar. And smiling. There are no better cookies.

And then the airline broke out the free beverages from huge coolers—
Non-alcoholic—and the two little girls for our flight, one African
American, one Mexican American—ran around serving us all apple juice
And lemonade and they were covered with powdered sugar too.

And I noticed my new best friend—by now we were holding hands—
Had a potted plant poking out of her bag, some medicinal thing,

With green furry leaves. Such an old country traveling tradition. Always
Carry a plant. Always stay rooted to somewhere.

And I looked around that gate of late and weary ones and thought,
This is the world I want to live in. The shared world.

Not a single person in this gate—once the crying of confusion stopped
—has seemed apprehensive about any other person.

They took the cookies. I wanted to hug all those other women too.
This can still happen anywhere.

Not everything is lost.

"

Naomi Shihab Nye (b. 1952), “Wandering Around an Albuquerque Airport Terminal.” I think this poem may be making the rounds, this week, but that’s as it should be.  (via oliviacirce)

When I lose hope in the world, I remember this poem.

(via bookoisseur)

I’m really glad I read that.

(via selfesteampunk)

(via beanarie)

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bisexualnatasharomanoff:

chriskaevil:

DC is being all gritty and “realistic” and Marvel just had a movie where the galaxy is saved by a dance-off and the power of friendship

and yet neither will produce a movie with a woman as the main character

(via angerisbeautiful-79)