onion's replies

anonymous asked:

What do you think of woman who uses lingerie and does makeup,and beig empowered by it? You think that invalidates her feminism?

empowerment is such a useless concept tbh.

your personal feelings on make-up really don’t matter when you’re talking about structural oppression. feminism doesn’t give a shit whether you are ~empowered~ from wearing eyeliner or not.

what feminism cares about is the fact that girls are pressured and groomed to wear make-up from their childhood on, that employers are less likely to hire you or pay you well if you don’t wear make-up, that the beauty industry is largely controlled by men and focused on making women feel insecure about their natural body so they can advance capitalism, that the beauty industry spends billions of dollars each year to contribute to the idea all girls are raised into that it’s only their looks that matter and give them worth.

i don’t think that wearing make-up or lingerie invalidates someone’s feminism, no. i do think that, regardless of your personal feelings on the matter, you have to be able to criticize make-up and femininity in general on a structural level though. you have to recognize that femininity is compulsory and imposed on women from the patriarchy. you have to recognize that women who don’t or can’t perform femininity the way it is dictated, especially disabled, lbpq+ and trans women and women of colour, are punished for it. and if you can’t do that because you’d rather cling to useless liberal concepts like empowerment then yes, that does invalidate your feminism.

Tommy's Girl (Tom Holland)

Originally posted by tomhollandislife

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader, Cole Sprouse x Reader

Warning: Cursing

Summary: Tom calls Y/N to see what time they would be home while they are still hanging out on set with Cole. But, when Y/N thinks they hung up on Tom, Tom overhears their conversation with Cole.

Author: Dizzy

A/N: Another Cole and Tom fic! I loved the last one and I’m glad others did too. This sweet fic was requested by an anon who said, “can you do another tom imagine ft cole? I luv your last one!!! The reader stays back at set with cole when she recieves a call tom. After they finished the call, she thinks she hung up but she doesnt and tom overhears their conversation. And cole asks if she would ever cheat and she tells cole how much she loves tom. She gets home and tom is already asleep so she sneaks into the bed with him accidentally waking him up, he doesnt tell her he heard he just says i love u, and she just gets confused.”


Masterlist Request a Prompt


You sat in Cole’s dressing room, drinking and laughing with him. You loved times like this, where you could relax after work with one of your best friends. You sat close to Cole, his arm around you while he told a story of him and his brother, a story you’d never heard before.

There was a moment of pause in Cole’s story because you two were laughing so hard and the memory. It was then that your phone rang, the loud staccato of your ringtone broke the laughter and you cleared your throat to answer it.

“Hello?” You answered and slapped Cole’s arm in an attempt to quiet him.

“Hey, babe. When are you coming home? I was thinking about making dinner soon.” Tom’s voice echoed through the phone.

You smiled, played with the hem of your shirt as you spoke. “I don’t know. I’ll be home in an hour maybe? Cole and I are just hanging out.”

“Oh okay. Do you mind picking up some onions on your way home? I’m going to go through all of the ones we have. I’m making that spaghetti you love.”

You couldn’t help but gasp at the mention of your favorite meal. “Really? Tom, you like never make that.”

“Well, I was thinking since you’ve been eating take out with Cole and working hard so much lately, you deserved a home cooked meal. But, you need to get the onions, okay?”

“Okay.” You replied, taking a look at Cole, who was making faces at you. “Thank you, baby. I’ll see you at home.”

“You’re welcome, love. Bye.”

“Bye.” You repeated and hung up.

Or at least, you thought you hung up as you set your phone down beside you.

“Sorry, Cole. Tom was just wondering when I was getting home. He’s making that spaghetti I love.” You apologized, the smile Tom put on your face did not falter.

“It’s fine, Y/n. How have you guys been?” He asked, placing a hand on his knee.

“Good. Great, actually.” You smiled, a blush crawling up your cheeks.

“That’s nice. Can I ask you something?”

“Of course. What’s up?”

“Would you ever cheat on Tom?”

The question shocked you as you sat frozen for a second, tried to process what Cole had asked and shook your head.

“No. Oh god, no. I would never cheat on Tom. I love him, Cole. He’s the best damn thing to ever happen to me.” You stated in an offended tone. “I should- I should go.”

You stood up and started to get your things and all the while, Tom had heard every word, finally knowing that you loved him before he hung up the phone.

“I’ll see you later.” You muttered and walked out the door, despite Cole’s begs for you to stay.

You walked out to your car, texting Tom and apologizing that you would be home later than what you said due to something coming up. You needed to drive around to take the stress off, just as you used to as a teen.

It was nine o'clock by the time you texted Tom again, an hour after you last one with you saying you would be home soon.

You were still upset by what Cole had asked, but you were not as upset as you were earlier. You couldn’t help but feel a sense of comfort when you walked into the home you shared with Tom.

The house was quiet as you walked into the kitchen, where a plate of spaghetti waited for you.

You assumed Tom had already went to bed as you set your bag down. You smiled to yourself and walked into the bedroom to find Tom asleep, hugging a pillow and snoring softly with the TV still on.

Without a sound, you climbed onto the bed near where he rested and ran your fingers through his hair. You smiled softly as he stirred before he woke up.

“You are one light sleeper.” You laughed lightly. “Thank you for the dinner. I’ll eat it soon.”

Tom yawned with a lopsided smile. “How was your time with Cole?”

“I don’t really wanna talk about it.” You sighed.

“Oh, did something happened?” Tom asked, knowing exactly what happened, but asked nevertheless.

“Yes.” You said and took in a deep breath. “But I’ll tell you about it later so you can sleep and I can go eat and then come back and join you.”

You ruffled his hair a little and placed a kiss on his lips before walking to the door, but was stopped when Tom said your name.

“Y/n?” His voice was soft and innocent sounding.

“Yeah, honey?”

“I love you.”

You stood, shocked for a moment at what caused Tom to say those three magical words before you accepted the idea of him loving you too and confessed your own feelings softly.

“I love you, too.”

CS FF: Every Little Thing

Summary: Trapped in Storybrooke, Emma learns Killian is cursed in Hyperion Heights with a new identity and no memory of her or their daughter.  She decides to send her shadow to visit him, hoping that it will trigger memories of her.  

Rating: G

Note: Thanks for the responses to You Have the Right to Remain Sexy.  This is something that I would love to see on the show in season 7.  I just really need them to find ways of keeping CS connected and Killian sensing Emma.   I hope you enjoy it!  ~Steph

…Every Little Thing: Part 1/1…

Emma stared at their wedding photo, as her thumb swiped across her husband’s face.  

“I miss you,” she whispered, wiping at a tear on her cheek with her other hand.

It had been nearly a month since Killian had been taken from her.  She was trapped in Storybrooke and she now knew Killian, along with the others, were in Hyperion Heights in Seattle.  It took a while and some fancy spells, but she was able to learn they were cursed with new identities and no memory of their former lives.  Killian was a cop named Officer James Rogers.  He had no memory of her or their six year old daughter, Ellie.  

The thought made her heart ache.  But Emma knew that she and Killian were deeply connected.  No matter what happened, no matter how far apart they were, they would always be a part of each other, always sense the other.

Even though he had no memory of her, she needed him to know that she was doing everything in her power to get to him and the rest of their family.  Emma knew she needed to send him a message and hoped that it would trigger memories of her.  She thought back to when Killian was trapped in Neverland and had sent his shadow to deliver the Black Fairy’s wand to her.   And that’s when she decided she would do the same.  

Emma lifted her eyes from the picture frame and stared at her shadow that hovered before her.  It hadn’t been easy removing her shadow and it had been even harder making it so it was only visible to Killian.  It could only remain separate from her body for 24 hours.  

Emma turned the frame over, removed the back, and lifted their wedding picture out.  She placed the photo in the hand of her shadow.

“Find Killian,” she said.  “Find my husband.  Help him remember.  Let him know I’m always with him.”

And with that, the shadow flew out of the window.  

Emma stared at her wedding ring and then squeezed her eyes closed.  “I love you,” she whispered.

The first time Rogers saw the shadow he was certain he was dreaming.  He was lying in bed late one night, staring up at the ceiling, but sleep wouldn’t come.  Sleep was a rarity for him.  He would toss and turn all night long.  He could never fully understand why he couldn’t sleep, but he knew something felt like it was missing.  Even stranger, he found himself sleeping on the left side of a queen size bed, staring at the empty side as if it should be occupied.  

He was in hour three of trying to sleep when a black figure swept in through his open window.  It hovered above his bed, looking down at him.  Rogers’ mouth hung open in shock as he stared at it.  He squeezed his eyes closed, sure it was his imagination.  But when he opened them, it was still there.  

“Bloody hell,” he muttered. “It must be a dream.”

But he knew better.  He knew sleep hadn’t yet come.  Rogers’ gaze swept across the slim figure.  Why did it seem so familiar?  

It was then that he noticed it was holding something.  It reached out and Rogers hesitantly lifted his hand, his fingers brushing against those of the shadow.  He felt a spark sweep through his arm as he took the photo from it.  The moonlight shone on the photo, illuminating the smiling faces.  Rogers couldn’t believe his eyes.  It was a wedding photo and he was the groom.   And the bride?  The bride was the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen.   Blonde with a smile that could light up a room.  

“Who are you?” he whispered.  “What is this?”

Rogers had never been married and had certainly never met the beautiful woman.  He knew he would remember her if he had.  But yet he couldn’t shake this feeling deep inside of him that he knew her.  None of this made any sense.  He shook his head and looked up at the shadow, but it had disappeared.  

He looked back at the photo, positive that in the morning this would be nothing more than a delusion born from sheer exhaustion.

Rogers felt something touch his cheek, as the sun warmed his face.  Slowly, he opened his eyes.  He backed away quickly, nearly falling out of bed when he was met with the sight of the shadow again.  It…she, he decided, had been caressing his cheek as she lay beside him in bed.

“What the devil is going on?” he muttered as he scrambled out of bed and away from the shadow.  

It was then that he saw the photo lying on the floor.  He picked it up and stared at the woman, his thumb running across her face.  He blew out a frustrated breath and then set the photo down on the night table.  Rogers decided that he would simply ignore the shadow and the strange events, and get ready for his day.

Keep reading

TimeWarp

Day I got- 19.

Theme- The Rocky Horror Picture Show.

Summary- The reader falls asleep whilst watching Rocky Horror.

Characters- Jared x Daughter!reader, Sam x daughter!reader, Dean x Niece!reader.

Warnings- slight angst.

A/N- This is for @winchesters-favorite-girl‘s writing challenge!! Rocky Horror is one of my all time favourite musicals so it was cool writing a fic based on it.


You were curled up on the sofa in a pair of shorts and and oversized sweater, it was nearing Halloween, one of your favourite holidays.

Your dad worked in Vancouver, you lived in Texas with your mom and your three younger siblings so you didn’t see him often, but you’d call and facetime each other as much as you could.

Your mom tried to get you to go to bed but you refused, wanting to wait for him to come home.

Keep reading

I Heart You

Betty stole Jughead’s groceries which somehow leads to them failing at baking together. (Based on recent Sprousehart activity). 
Word Count: 1.4k
ff.net

A/N: I nearly wrote Cole/Lili instead of Jughead/Betty so many times good lord. Guys this PR is getting too much. Anyway, thanks for reading! xD 


“Wow, Jughead, did you really buy lettuce?” Archie asked, pulling out the whole lettuce that Jughead had brought back from the grocery store. Apparently going shopping with Betty meant bringing back stuff that actually needed cooking and wasn’t just microwave pizza. Jughead groaned, looking at the lettuce disdainfully.

“Betty said I needed to eat healthy. Something about never seeing me eat anything but burgers and onion rings,” he replied and Archie laughed.

“Well I’m glad you’re dating her, man. I mean, look at all this stuff!” Archie exclaimed, overturning the rest of the contents onto their dining table. Out fell beans, potatoes, tomatoes, peas, onions, chicken, and slim milk. “You’d think we’d need to feed an army or something. Also, slim milk? I didn’t realise you were watching your weight, Jug,” Archie said, chuckling. Jughead rolled his eyes and picked up the milk.

“This is for her – not us. I’ll run down and give it to her,” he said, exiting their flat. Once outside, he thought about the contents on the table and smiled for a moment before shaking his head and going down to where Betty lived with Veronica. The latter was out of town for the weekend. Something about her dad. At this point, Jughead had taught himself to tune out whenever Veronica mentioned her father.

Out of habit, he opened the door without knocking and heard something crash in the kitchen.

“Betty?” He called out, uncertainty and worry colouring his tone. There was complete silence for a few moments before she responded.

“Yeah?”

“You okay?” He began walking towards the kitchen. Hardly had he taken two steps in its direction when a flour-covered Betty Cooper came running out, apron undone and flapping around her as she bounded toward him.

“Don’t go there!” She screamed and collided with him. The milk fell, split open, and spilled all over the floor. Betty looked at it and her face crumpled with embarrassment and anxiety. “Veronica’s going to kill me. We just had the floors redone.”

“Didn’t you move in last week?”

“Yeah turns out her dad is super generous,” she said, rolling her eyes and going back into the kitchen. Ignoring her instruction, Jughead followed.

To say that the kitchen was a mess would have been an understatement.

It was as if Betty had single-handedly recreated the party she had thrown at Archie’s house all those years ago. Except the spilled alcohol was replaced with spilled flour and broken eggshells. Betty grabbed the washcloth and turned around to find Jughead staring at her in disbelief. Her cheeks heated up with an even deeper embarrassment as she waited for his reaction. To her surprise and relief, Jughead began laughing.

“What the fuck happened here?” He managed to choke out in between guffaws.

“I was trying to bake a cake. Apparently, I’m not very good at literally anything in the culinary area. I was going to bake a cake and bring it up for you because of how hard you tried to get me to eat healthy. Sort of like a “suck it!” moment. But then,” she hesitated and motioned to the mess in the kitchen, “this happened.”

“You wanted to bake a cake?” He asked, incredulity evident in his voice. Betty nodded mutely, waiting for the sarcastic quip that usually followed such questions. Instead, surprising her again, he walked over to the hooks where the aprons hung and, taking Veronica’s apron, put it.

“Well, then. Shall we begin baking the cake, Betty Cooper?”

Turned out baking with Jughead was a lot more fun. Unfortunately, a lot more fun also meant that it took a lot longer than it would have otherwise. It meant batter on each other’s noses. Trying to sneak batter behind each other’s backs. Throwing eggs at each other (and wasting four perfectly good eggs in the process) and eating whipped cream straight out of the can.

Finally the cake was in the oven and so the couple disappeared into the bedroom to have a different kind of fun while the cake baked.

The timer rang and Betty and Jughead came back into the kitchen, taking out the cake. Eagerly, Betty poked a toothpick into it… only to discover it was still raw in the centre.

“What the hell?” She said, staring at the runny centre in disbelief. Jughead’s face fell. Clearly they had both seriously believed that this was going to be a success.

“What do we go now?” Jughead asked, taking his turn at examining the batter-covered toothpick.

“I don’t know… Google it?” She said, looking at him unsurely. He nodded and she grabbed her phone, typing in:

middle of cake not cooking.

“Apparently we just need to stick it in the oven for longer,” she said, skimming the first result she got. Jughead nodded and put the cake back in the oven. Once again, they disappeared into Betty’s bedroom. After all, it was rare that Veronica left them alone.

When they returned to the kitchen and Jughead said, “Okay, now we need to talk about you switching the grocery bags. You can’t do this every time we buy groceries, Betty – I’m starting to lose my reputation as the most unhealthy one in the group.”

“Okay but Juggie you had marshmallows in your bag!”

“Do you truly believe that I wouldn’t want to give my marshmallows to you? To the woman I love? Betty, I would give you the entire packet. I just need to be the one who owns it.”

“Sounds like a pile of fragile masculinity BS to me,” she replied shrugging and Jughead rolled his eyes, yet unable to hold back a smile. It had only taken a week for Betty to be this relaxed. A week away from her family and already her ponytail was becoming looser. He was about to respond to this when they smelled burning.

“What’s – oh fuck!” Betty whipped open the oven and smoke billowed out. Coughing, she waved her hand in front of her face and reached in to take out the cake. The top was black – completely burnt. It had gone down the sides to some extent too, taking away nearly a fourth of the cake.

“Betty, I’m so sorry,” he said, shaking his head at this tragic sight. Betty didn’t say anything. She simply stared at the cake for a while. Then, just as Jughead was going to propose saying some words before throwing it in the trash, Betty announced, “I can salvage it.”

“If you say so,” he replied, smiling at her enthusiasm at knowing how to save the cake. She disappeared to the other side of the kitchen for a few moments, only returning to take the icing. Jughead tried to sneak up on her a few times to see what she was doing but everytime, without so much as a glance in his direction, Betty would say his name in a warning I-know-what-you’re-doing tone and he would guiltily skulk away to his side of the kitchen.

Twelve minutes later, Betty announced, “Okay – it’s done!”

“Brilliant. What is?” He asked and she rolled her eyes, smiling at him and bringing the cake back. If you could still consider it a cake. It was more like a cookie made out of cake batter at this point. The surface was completely flat and Jughead was sure that there were fingers fatter than the thickness of the cake. But somehow, this was all okay because of the orange icing on the cake which read:

I YOU

“You… heart me?” Jughead asked, a smile playing along his lips.

“Mhm. Yeah – that’s exactly what it says. I swear, Jughead, sometimes I wonder why I even do things for you.”

“I think I know why,” he said, his smile widening.

“Why?”

“Because, Betty Cooper, you heart me,” he said and started laughing. Betty rolled her eyes but couldn’t hold back a smile.

“I guess you’re right. But, let’s be clear, you heart me, too.”

“How could I not?” He said and kissed her. Betty took this opportunity to take some frosting off the cake and, when they pulled apart, she put a large dollop on the tip of his nose, giggling. Jughead retaliated with his own finger of frosting.

Both were careful not to touch the heart and so, by the end of it, all the cake had was a on it.

You know that deadend ex who left you for a different girl and then came crawling back after your glo-up?

You know that friend or family member who can never be bothered when you need help, but comes by when they want something from you?

You know that person that rejects you, rejects you, rejects you, and then suddenly shows up when you’re successful and have something they could use, acting like they cared the whole time?

You know the types.

That’s cishet asexuals. They watched gay people die earning our current resources, and hid under a rock during every past riot, protest, and battle. They did not want A Single Thing to do with us. They did not want to be part of our community in the least. They didn’t even like us.

And now that we have some resources and shit, and we’re slowly gaining a place in the world, who should come wandering in claiming they’re entitled to an equal share? Who suddenly wants to be LGBT?

And some of you softhearted losers are really opening the door.

spoosch ha risposto al tuo post “sarah1281 ha risposto al tuo post “Or worse, mac n cheese on…”

I was gonna say it’s weird to put another starchy food/carb on pizza but… french do some pizza raclette/savoyarde/tartiflette, so we definitively put potato on pizza. (And I recently saw a <i><b>Flammkuche</b></i>-tartiflette, so with potato too)

potatoes or meat on pizza are perfectly normal u___u

Yesterday, I phoned hope and asked: Is it possible to extract a perfume from fish and onion? He replied: Yes. I asked: And is it possible to light fire from water? He replied: Yes. I asked: And can honey be extracted from bitter apples? He replied: Yes. I asked: And is it possible to place the Earth in Saturn’s pocket? He replied: Yes, certainly, of course, everything is possible! I then asked: Then surely, our Arab leaders will one day feel ashamed? And hope replied: Spit in my face if that ever happens. - Ahmed Matar
*Three boys in the city of Qayyarah, south of Mosul, November 2016.