“Whistling At Your Mom” - a Peruvian TV show finds the mothers of men who catcall women, do makeovers on said moms, then have them walk by their sons so they can firsthand see their sons’, and it’s exactly as epic as you expect

(via Whistling At Your Mom - YouTube)

“GAY IS REGAL NOT ILLEGAL” – “GAYS STAY OUT OF KOOKIES,” activists protest the treatment of lesbians at Kooky’s Bar, New York City, August 30, 1971. Photo by Bettye Lane, © The Lesbian Herstory Archives. In 1971, Kooky’s (149 West 14th Street), one of the few lesbian bars in Manhattan, came under fire when the owner made her hostility to the gay liberation movement, and particularly lesbian feminists, well-known. According to an article for the Village Voice by pioneer Arthur Bell, on August 30, 1971, forty-five years ago today, “several gay women’s groups marched from the Lesbian Center on Prince Street…to a place called Kooky’s….They accused Kooky’s of watering down and over-pricing their drinks, of insulting their customers, of refusing service to lesbians, and of being a [Mafia]-operated bar. The women demanded that lesbian bars be run by lesbians and that the [Mafia] stop taking advantage of them.” During the demonstration, Bell “managed to get inside the bar to have a few words with Kooky herself…: ‘From what I hear, I think they’re communists. They don’t want people to be in this business. They must be a little sick. Why don’t we send them to Russia?’…Is Kooky’s a Mafia-controlled bar? [Bell asked]. 'Listen,’ she says, pushing me out the door, 'I think they’re communist. I think it’s all very sick.’” #lgbthistory #lgbtherstory #lgbttheirstory #lgbtpride #QueerHistoryMatters #HavePrideInHistory #BettyeLane #LesbianHerstoryArchives (at West 14th Street)

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is there a place for women who haven’t / don’t get catcalled

I don’t get cat called because I live in a city where if you aren’t thin and/or white (or asian); people ignore you so it’s never something I had to deal with and so I always feel some sort of weird way about cat calling that is I feel this narrative that ~every woman~ has and it’s like well I don’t so idk what that makes me

I really appreciate you guys cheering me up like this, thank you so much 😭 💖
I’ve been feeling kinda tired and depressed the past few days cus everyone else is at school so I’m kinda alone without any work or money so haha i’m pretty screwed unless I find a job. I know I shouldn’t be so upset about this but it’s just a bad time for me.

And yeah it’s really annoying how you can be really okay with yourself and you body and looks and then assholes force you to remember that the society thinks you’re delusional for liking yourself. I just can’t believe that somebody would see my existence as offensive and it’s really upsetting.


Pairing: Azazel/Janos
Warnings: Sexual harassment, extremely violent language, violence, rough sex
Words: >6K
Continuity: tattoo fic

Summary: Back story. It takes exactly one year and a stranger laying hands on Janos at the annual street fashion show for Azazel to figure out the relationship is serious.

The sun is setting and it’s still hot for Portland, and humid, but Azazel is dressed in habitual black, his suit jacket over one arm. His back is to the brick expanse on the left of Triple Cha’s picture window where shade has kept the wall cooler than the art gallery’s sun-bathed red bricks across the street.

“So are you guys calling this your anniversary?” Raven asks as she hands Azazel a clear plastic cup.

Azazel turns his gaze to the contents of the clear plastic. There’s fruit and ice bubbling up inside something alcoholic. It’s colorful like Raven but with a twist of class that reminds him of Janos’ coveted sangria. “That sounds serious for what we have.”

Raven snorts with a total lack of grace; it’s cute rather than unattractive. “Janos seems to be taking it seriously. I hope you got him something for the occasion.”

Azazel shrugs and watches the fruit rise and then drop, buoyed by slippery bubbles. He always brings Janos something when he visits but he hasn’t come with anything more special than any other time. Why would he? Yes, he enjoys Janos in every possible sense, but mainly he enjoys Janos for as long as he can. There’s no doubt in his mind that Janos will eventually move on; it’s what Azazel would do if he were Janos.

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Hi, How Are You?

The campus was crowded during the lunch time, so I walked to Guadalupe street. There is a place called Thai, How Are You? in Austin; it has a cute frog-like alien drawn on the white wall, from the side of the building facing the 21st street, with a “Hi, How Are You?” friendly gesture and a slogan.

The alien was famous for Kurt Cobain wearing its portrait on a t-shirt.

I heard the alien was subjected to repression and vandalism, but re-emerged every time it was obliterated or disfigured, until it was given up on, and subsequently became something of a landmark. It was used as a part of visual framing of the Austin City Limits Music Festival.

Now a restaurant has appropriated the greeting of our extraterrestrial friend, making it a part of a brand and commercializing it but also protecting it from further attempts of erasure.

Timed Prompt: (10 min)

  • Prompt: Kyungsoo’s little brother(s) drops ice cream on a random stranger’s shoes.

“Minseok! Jongdae! Hey! Stop running right now! Hey!” Kyungsoo calls after his younger brothers as he scurries down the street after them. He could curse his mom for leaving him with the rascals for the evening, there was a ‘game of thrones’ marathon he wanted to watch. Now though, he is stuck fooling around with these hoodlums. They wanted ice cream and, for the love of God, Kyungsoo had no other choice but to bring them to Baskin-Robbins so they would stop their whining. He’d give anything for his brother to take his spot, but the 20 year old college student was long gone away from home the minute he walked across the stage. He could punch Junmyeon for leaving him alone.

So now, here he is, chasing his brothers down the street and calling their names. The two boys are holding ice cream cones in their hands, and he doesn’t want them making a mess. Yet, boys will be boys, he muses.

When he finally catches up to the two, he’s breathing like an obese woman who had run a fifty mile marathon; chest heaving and sweat parading down his face, his body hunched over, hands resting on his knees.

“Don’t,” he inhales deeply, “do,” another inhale, “that again.” he sighs. Standing up straight, he notices that the two boys have stopped moving. His eyes shift upward and there a tall, rather handsome young man stood looking incredibly pissed off.

Oh God, he thinks. The man’s gaze is staring downward and Kyungsoo follows his line of sight and nearly faints. On the man’s shoes is the wonderful mixture of vanilla and chocolate ice cream, spilled in all its glory, plopping from his shoe onto the ground. One would consider his life in a predicament such as this. He needs to say something.

“I’m so sorry, my brothers were running and they’re so clumsy. You guys apologize!” The two boys bow their heads respectively, on the verge of crying.

The man’s face eases up when he sees how sorry they are, “It’s alright, nothing a rag won’t fix.” he offers them a smile.


Rage darkened his features and he slammed his fist flat against Steve’s chest, right above his heart. “Leave me the fuck alone,” and he fled into the gloom, Steve unable to keep pace with him, blindly stumbling through the dark streets and calling his name like a spell, slipping on water that had frozen over.

And the third piece I did for Still Let Me Sleep by @teatotally for the Stucky Big Bang. This is such a great fic and it was a joy to do art for it!

Here are the other two pieces

Calle 7, Bogotá, Colombia, Aug. 18, 2016

  • *in the lab*
  • Mary:*sipping coffee* How was the date last night, Molly?
  • Sherlock:*at his microscope; rolls his eyes*
  • Molly:*sighs* Bloody awful! We had absolutely nothing in common. He thought a specialist registrar was a marriage guidance counsellor.
  • Mary:*raises an eyebrow* Wow...
  • John:*sympathetic* Chin up. You'll meet someone.
  • Molly:*shrugs* I don't know; maybe it's me.
  • Sherlock:Oh for God's sake, Molly, of course it's not you. You're perfect.
  • Molly:...
  • John:...
  • Mary:...
  • Molly:...
  • Sherlock:*looking between them; frowns* Oh, come on. This is not news!
  • John & Mary:*murmur their agreement*
  • Molly:*blinking; overwhelmingly happy* R-really?
  • Sherlock:*nods* Yup.
  • Molly:*throws her arms around his neck; kisses his cheek* Thank you.
  • John:*mutters to Mary* We think so, too.
  • Sherlock:*cheeks pink* You can sod off.

Tokyo 4020 on Flickr.

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Calle 7, Bogotá, Colombia, Aug. 18, 2016

Imagine - El Diablo


1. Hey! Can you make a story with El Diablo & reader. Where el diablo is protective of her and other guys hit on her, one even tries to have sex with her and she can’t get rid of them but El Diablo finds out. Please thanx

2. our short like 4'9 short but your Adorable and you are um blessed? In the womanly areas? With el Diablo or killer croc?

Imagine Diablo’s reaction to you getting harassed.

!WARNINGS: Harassment, near rape experience, death by fire !

You were walking along the alleyway trying to find Diablo, he spent yet another night occupied with- whatever he does at night, you usually see him disappear behind one of the back doors here.

Suddenly you heard a bunch of street thugs call out to you from somewhere in the shadows.

“Hey Chica! What are you doing alone here in the streets?” The voice seemed to be on your left side.

Another one called out from your right, but you tried to ignore it, “This one’s a cutie.”

Footsteps seemed to be surrounding and encircling around you, you tried to ignore their comments the first time but it wasn’t working. You had no doubt your face showed utter fear, as they started laughing at you and moving in on you.

“Hey baby, why don’t we put these blessed features to good use, huh?” he said  groping your breasts before painfully gripping your waist and slamming you against the brick wall.


“Who’ll save you now? Superman? Batman?” He said grinding onto you, the laughter of his gang had died down by now.

“I ain’t no Superman or Batman, but I’ll be there if my woman needs me to.” you heard Diablo’s voice, if you could see him now you know he would have his fists clenched and his eyes raging with fire.

“E-El Diablo…I…I”

Originally posted by el-diiablo

You saw the man infront of you drop to his knees and burn.


“Are you okay?” He said stepping over his victim and checking you for any injuries.

(A/N: I keep changing the style of my imagines, well the requester gave me specifics so I guess I’ll do them this way if the requests are specific and the other ones when they aren’t as specific. I know SS week is over but I might as well kill 2 birds with 1 stone.)


I became a feminist when I realized that I shouldn’t feel weak whenever I acted girly. When I was younger, it wasn’t that I was treated like I was weak because I was a girl, it was that I felt like in order to be strong I couldn’t be girly. Also, my teachers, my parents, everyone I knew, treated boys as if they couldn’t act mature because they were a boy. I really got interested in feminism after I was catcalled for the first time. When my little sister told my mom that I was catcalled I expected her to get mad that someone would treat me like that, but instead she said “awww” as if it was cute! Well that’s how I became a feminist. I know that what I experience isn’t nearly as bad as what some people experience, but it’s still a reason to be mad. People act as though because the sexism isn’t blatantly obvious, that it doesn’t matter. But we shouldn’t have to compromise our equality.

Those are great reasons for becoming a feminist, and one that others can relate to, as well.

What or who sparked your feminist awakening? Send me an ask or submit your story!