Rebellious Blog

RSS

A 90 years old man holds hands with his 40+ boyfriend. People call him a pervert, no one knows he’s been hibernated for 70 years. People call another guy short. No one knows he has a serious genetic mutation that causes him to turn into a green raging monster. People call a man ugly. No one knew he had a serious injury to his face while fighting with his assassin of a wife who didn’t like the nest he had built them. People call a man stupid but they don’t know he is the norse god of thunder. Re-post this if you are against bullying and stereotyping. I bet 95% of you won’t do it, because you do what you want.

(Source: stravaganza)

Bikini…Assemble!!!

totalefinsternis:

explosivemarbles:

totalefinsternis:

mafiaprinceza:

dc9spot:

also…the villian

and………a bonus!

I totally want to cosplay as bikini Loki.

Oh girl, I would totally cosplay as bikini Iron Man (Woman?)

…I know how to make tops like that pretty well. I should make it.

If you did this, I would TOTALLY do it with you. 

AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH BIKINI AVENGERS ASSEMBLE??!?!?

ok I’ll add it to my list…I have no idea when to wear it, but seriously, I can make that IM bikini. I’ll do it :D

I require all of these.

totalefinsternis:


 Marvel Comics makes history with a gay X-Men marriage.Marvel Comics’ Astonishing X-Men is set to experience a new sound effect on top of its booms, whams, and sknits: the bong of wedding bells. Specifically, it’s the wedding bells of Marvel’s first gay marriage between longtime X-Man Northstar and his civilian boyfriend, Kyle. After pairing up the couple in 2009, Marvel is officially tying their knot in June’s Astonishing X-Men #51.(x) 

Awww, Northstar :)

Hell to the Yes!

totalefinsternis:

Marvel Comics makes history with a gay X-Men marriage.

Marvel Comics’ Astonishing X-Men is set to experience a new sound effect on top of its booms, whams, and sknits: the bong of wedding bells. Specifically, it’s the wedding bells of Marvel’s first gay marriage between longtime X-Man Northstar and his civilian boyfriend, Kyle. After pairing up the couple in 2009, Marvel is officially tying their knot in June’s Astonishing X-Men #51.

(x) 

Awww, Northstar :)

Hell to the Yes!

(Source: iamthefirstavenger)

totalefinsternis:

starkexpos:

theprophetchuck:

ohmycomelookatthis:

Who just ordered this shirt?  I DID!!!

I WANT IT TOO.

I NEED IT.

I wish it wasn’t $17 ;_;

SO MUCH WANT!!!!

totalefinsternis:

starkexpos:

theprophetchuck:

ohmycomelookatthis:

Who just ordered this shirt?  I DID!!!

I WANT IT TOO.

I NEED IT.

I wish it wasn’t $17 ;_;

SO MUCH WANT!!!!

theregotheovaries:

Oh god yes. Thanks tumblr

*snickers* So much SNAP!!!!

(Source: lorthedinosaur)

anaaesthetic:

entertainmentforthesoul:

Michael Fassbender in GQ Magazine.

Full story & behind the scenes video of the cover shoot.

God damnit, Michael Fassbender.

Whu…wha….*melts into a puddle* I will follow Magneto anywhere…


They told me the big black Lab’s name was Reggie, as I looked at him lying in his pen. The shelter was clean, no-kill, and the people really friendly. I’d only been in the area for six months, but everywhere I went in the small college town, people were welcoming and open. Everyone waves when you pass them on the street.
But something was still missing as I attempted to settle in to my new life here, and I thought a dog couldn’t hurt. Give me someone to talk to. And I had just seen Reggie’s advertisement on the local news. The shelter said they had received numerous calls right after, but they said the people who had come down to see him just didn’t look like “Lab people,” whatever that meant. They must’ve thought I did.But at first, I thought the shelter had misjudged me in giving me Reggie and his things, which consisted of a dog pad, bag of toys almost all of which were brand new tennis balls, his dishes and a sealed letter from his previous owner.See, Reggie and I didn’t really hit it off when we got home. We struggled for two weeks (which is how long the shelter told me to give him to adjust to his new home). Maybe it was the fact that I was trying to adjust, too.Maybe we were too much alike.I saw the sealed envelope. I had completely forgotten about that. “Okay, Reggie,” I said out loud, “let’s see if your previous owner has any advice.”____________ _________ _________ _________To Whomever Gets My Dog:Well, I can’t say that I’m happy you’re reading this, a letter I told the shelter could only be opened by Reggie’s new owner. I’m not even happy writing it. He knew something was different.So let me tell you about my Lab in the hopes that it will help you bond with him and he with you.First, he loves tennis balls. The more the merrier. Sometimes I think he’s part squirrel, the way he hoards them. He usually always has two in his mouth, and he tries to get a third in there. Hasn’t done it yet. Doesn’tmatter where you throw them, he’ll bound after them, so be careful. Don’t do it by any roads.Next, commands. Reggie knows the obvious ones —-“sit,” “stay,” “come,” “heel.”He knows hand signals, too: He knows “ball” and “food” and “bone” and “treat” like nobody’s business.Feeding schedule: twice a day, regular store-bought stuff; the shelter has the brand.He’s up on his shots. Be forewarned: Reggie hates the vet. Good luck getting him in the car. I don’t know how he knows when it’s time to go to the vet, but he knows.Finally, give him some time. It’s only been Reggie and me for his whole life. He’s gone everywhere with me, so please include him on your daily car rides if you can. He sits well in the backseat, and he doesn’t bark or complain. He just loves to be around people, and me most especially.And that’s why I need to share one more bit of info with you…His name’s not Reggie. He’s a smart dog, he’ll get used to it and will respond to it, of that I have no doubt. But I just couldn’t bear to give them his real name. But if someone is reading this … well it means that his new owner should know his real name. His real name is “Tank.” Because, that is what I drive.I told the shelter that they couldn’t make “Reggie” available for adoption until they received word from my company commander. You see, my parents are gone, I have no siblings, no one I could’ve left Tank with .. and it was my only real request of the Army upon my deployment to Iraq, that they make one phone call to the shelter … in the “event” … to tell them that Tank could be put up for adoption. Luckily, my CO is a dog-guy, too, and he knew where my platoon was headed. He said he’d do it personally. And if you’re reading this, then he made good on his word.Tank has been my family for the last six years, almost as long as the Army has been my family. And now I hope and pray that you make him part of your family, too, and that he will adjust and come to love you the same way heloved me.If I have to give up Tank to keep those terrible people from coming to the US I am glad to have done so. He is my example of service and of love. I hope I honored him by my service to my country and comrades.All right, that’s enough. I deploy this evening and have to drop this letter off at the shelter. Maybe I’ll peek in on him and see if he finally got that third tennis ball in his mouth.Good luck with Tank. Give him a good home, and give him an extra kiss goodnight - every night - from me.Thank you,Paul Mallory____________ _________ _________ _______I folded the letter and slipped it back in the envelope. Sure, I had heard of Paul Mallory, everyone in town knew him, even new people like me. Local kid, killed in Iraq a few months ago and posthumously earning the SilverStar when he gave his life to save three buddies. Flags had been at half-mast all summer.I leaned forward in my chair and rested my elbows on my knees, staring at the dog.“Hey, Tank,” I said quietly.The dog’s head whipped up, his ears cocked and his eyes bright.“C’mere boy.”He was instantly on his feet, his nails clicking on the hardwood floor. He sat in front of me, his head tilted, searching for the name he hadn’t heard in months. “Tank,” I whispered.His tail swished.I kept whispering his name, over and over, and each time, his ears lowered, his eyes softened, and his posture relaxed as a wave of contentment just seemed to flood him. I stroked his ears, rubbed his shoulders, buried myface into his scruff and hugged him.“It’s me now, Tank, just you and me. Your old pal gave you to me.” Tank reached up and licked my cheek.“So whatdaya say we play some ball?” His ears perked again.“Yeah? Ball? You like that? Ball?”Tank tore from my hands and disappeared into the next room. And when he came back, he had three tennis balls in his mouth.”

And here come the tears…

They told me the big black Lab’s name was Reggie, as I looked at him lying in his pen. The shelter was clean, no-kill, and the people really friendly. I’d only been in the area for six months, but everywhere I went in the small college town, people were welcoming and open. Everyone waves when you pass them on the street.


But something was still missing as I attempted to settle in to my new life here, and I thought a dog couldn’t hurt. Give me someone to talk to. And I had just seen Reggie’s advertisement on the local news. The shelter said they had received numerous calls right after, but they said the people who had come down to see him just didn’t look like “Lab people,” whatever that meant. They must’ve thought I did.

But at first, I thought the shelter had misjudged me in giving me Reggie and his things, which consisted of a dog pad, bag of toys almost all of which were brand new tennis balls, his dishes and a sealed letter from his previous owner.

See, Reggie and I didn’t really hit it off when we got home. We struggled for two weeks (which is how long the shelter told me to give him to adjust to his new home). Maybe it was the fact that I was trying to adjust, too.
Maybe we were too much alike.

I saw the sealed envelope. I had completely forgotten about that. “Okay, Reggie,” I said out loud, “let’s see if your previous owner has any advice.”
____________ _________ _________ _________

To Whomever Gets My Dog:

Well, I can’t say that I’m happy you’re reading this, a letter I told the shelter could only be opened by Reggie’s new owner. I’m not even happy writing it. He knew something was different.

So let me tell you about my Lab in the hopes that it will help you bond with him and he with you.

First, he loves tennis balls. The more the merrier. Sometimes I think he’s part squirrel, the way he hoards them. He usually always has two in his mouth, and he tries to get a third in there. Hasn’t done it yet. Doesn’t
matter where you throw them, he’ll bound after them, so be careful. Don’t do it by any roads.

Next, commands. Reggie knows the obvious ones —-“sit,” “stay,” “come,” “heel.”

He knows hand signals, too: He knows “ball” and “food” and “bone” and “treat” like nobody’s business.

Feeding schedule: twice a day, regular store-bought stuff; the shelter has the brand.

He’s up on his shots. Be forewarned: Reggie hates the vet. Good luck getting him in the car. I don’t know how he knows when it’s time to go to the vet, but he knows.

Finally, give him some time. It’s only been Reggie and me for his whole life. He’s gone everywhere with me, so please include him on your daily car rides if you can. He sits well in the backseat, and he doesn’t bark or complain. He just loves to be around people, and me most especially.

And that’s why I need to share one more bit of info with you…His name’s not Reggie. He’s a smart dog, he’ll get used to it and will respond to it, of that I have no doubt. But I just couldn’t bear to give them his real name. But if someone is reading this … well it means that his new owner should know his real name. His real name is “Tank.” Because, that is what I drive.

I told the shelter that they couldn’t make “Reggie” available for adoption until they received word from my company commander. You see, my parents are gone, I have no siblings, no one I could’ve left Tank with .. and it was my only real request of the Army upon my deployment to Iraq, that they make one phone call to the shelter … in the “event” … to tell them that Tank could be put up for adoption. Luckily, my CO is a dog-guy, too, and he knew where my platoon was headed. He said he’d do it personally. And if you’re reading this, then he made good on his word.

Tank has been my family for the last six years, almost as long as the Army has been my family. And now I hope and pray that you make him part of your family, too, and that he will adjust and come to love you the same way he
loved me.

If I have to give up Tank to keep those terrible people from coming to the US I am glad to have done so. He is my example of service and of love. I hope I honored him by my service to my country and comrades.

All right, that’s enough. I deploy this evening and have to drop this letter off at the shelter. Maybe I’ll peek in on him and see if he finally got that third tennis ball in his mouth.

Good luck with Tank. Give him a good home, and give him an extra kiss goodnight - every night - from me.

Thank you,

Paul Mallory
____________ _________ _________ _______

I folded the letter and slipped it back in the envelope. Sure, I had heard of Paul Mallory, everyone in town knew him, even new people like me. Local kid, killed in Iraq a few months ago and posthumously earning the Silver
Star when he gave his life to save three buddies. Flags had been at half-mast all summer.

I leaned forward in my chair and rested my elbows on my knees, staring at the dog.

“Hey, Tank,” I said quietly.

The dog’s head whipped up, his ears cocked and his eyes bright.

“C’mere boy.”

He was instantly on his feet, his nails clicking on the hardwood floor. He sat in front of me, his head tilted, searching for the name he hadn’t heard in months. “Tank,” I whispered.

His tail swished.

I kept whispering his name, over and over, and each time, his ears lowered, his eyes softened, and his posture relaxed as a wave of contentment just seemed to flood him. I stroked his ears, rubbed his shoulders, buried my
face into his scruff and hugged him.

“It’s me now, Tank, just you and me. Your old pal gave you to me.” Tank reached up and licked my cheek.

“So whatdaya say we play some ball?” His ears perked again.

“Yeah? Ball? You like that? Ball?”

Tank tore from my hands and disappeared into the next room. And when he came back, he had three tennis balls in his mouth.”

And here come the tears…

(Source: stephaniekilbury)

totalefinsternis:

mckelvie:

cameron-stewart:

My friend Jamie McKelvie  recently designed this costume for Marvel Comics’ “Captain Marvel,” and I like it so much that I wanted to do a drawing of it.  Personal work, 2012

Instant reblog.

Yeah, I am liking it more and more.

totalefinsternis:

mckelvie:

cameron-stewart:

My friend Jamie McKelvie  recently designed this costume for Marvel Comics’ “Captain Marvel,” and I like it so much that I wanted to do a drawing of it.  Personal work, 2012

Instant reblog.

Yeah, I am liking it more and more.

albinwonderland:

pastelchainsaw:

fuckyeah-nerdery:

Saw this picture on imgur and just had to post it here, because this is without a doubt, one of the most badass women alive. Meet Katrina Hodge, a corporal in the British Army and Miss England 2009. According to Wikipedia, she enlisted back in 2004 after her brother challenged her to and earned the nickname “Combat Barbie” after showing up at her assigned unit wearing false eyelashes, kitten heels (whatever those are) and carry a pink suitcase. In 2005 her unit, the Royal Anglian Regiment, was deployed to Iraq, where she saved the lives of her comrades from a prisoner by wrestling not one, but two rifles from him and then knocking his ass out with her bare hands.
With her bare hands.
Then in 2009, she decided to compete in the Miss England competition to destroy stereotypes about women in the military. She didn’t win (she placed runner-up), but still became Miss England after the woman who did got into a fight and gave up the crown. While Miss England, Hodge convinced the people running the competition to ditch the bikini contest, because she felt that it was more important to be a role model than looking good in a bikini.
In 2010, she handed over the crown and returned to military service, being deployed to Afghanistan.
This woman is both a BAMF and a HBIC. Damn.

Kitten heels = really tiny heels that shouldn’t even be in the heel family.
REGARDLESS. HBIC Y’ALL

godamn

We should all want to be like her. Beautiful and Badass, both inside and out!

albinwonderland:

pastelchainsaw:

fuckyeah-nerdery:

Saw this picture on imgur and just had to post it here, because this is without a doubt, one of the most badass women alive. Meet Katrina Hodge, a corporal in the British Army and Miss England 2009. According to Wikipedia, she enlisted back in 2004 after her brother challenged her to and earned the nickname “Combat Barbie” after showing up at her assigned unit wearing false eyelashes, kitten heels (whatever those are) and carry a pink suitcase. In 2005 her unit, the Royal Anglian Regiment, was deployed to Iraq, where she saved the lives of her comrades from a prisoner by wrestling not one, but two rifles from him and then knocking his ass out with her bare hands.

With her bare hands.

Then in 2009, she decided to compete in the Miss England competition to destroy stereotypes about women in the military. She didn’t win (she placed runner-up), but still became Miss England after the woman who did got into a fight and gave up the crown. While Miss England, Hodge convinced the people running the competition to ditch the bikini contest, because she felt that it was more important to be a role model than looking good in a bikini.

In 2010, she handed over the crown and returned to military service, being deployed to Afghanistan.

This woman is both a BAMF and a HBIC. Damn.

Kitten heels = really tiny heels that shouldn’t even be in the heel family.

REGARDLESS. HBIC Y’ALL

godamn

We should all want to be like her. Beautiful and Badass, both inside and out!

Feb 9

kellenmeloni:

8 Shirtless Actors from X-Men and Avengers Animations :) :)

Um…. I have no issue with this.