So when people leave, I’ve learned the secret: let them. Because, most of the time, they have to.

Let them walk away and go places. Let them have adventures in the wild without you. Let them travel the world and explore life beyond a horizon that you exist in. And know, deep down, that heroes aren’t qualified by their capacity to stay but by their decision to return.

phoenixwrites:

calonari:

lordofthewolves:

iconic video of my childhood

I have memories of my adolescence and me and fganon reciting this to each other constantly.

kissinghimintherollyjoger:

Outlander was filming in my town today! I’ve never been more excited in my life, nothing like this ever happens in SCOTLAND let alone my town! but I’ve calmed down now so I’ll give you a little description of everything that went down. Me and two of my friends heard from my other friend that her dad was going to be an extra as a prisoner in a dungeon, and on the inside of the palace (we could see just inside the entrance) there was hay bales and sentry’s walking back and forth so they were using both the exterior and interior. The outside of the palace was guarded by red coats, and the scene which took place consisted of Claire walking/being lead by a Mackenzie clan member (I’m almost certain it was the man who told Jamie about his mothers sweet smile, I can’t remember his name though) up to the doors, talking to the guards, and then going in. They also rehearsed a scene, where (we think, but can’t be 100% sure) Jamie (as soon as we saw him we freaked out. like hyperventilated.) carries possibly Claire out of the prison in his arms. Catriona is so beautiful in person, and although we didn’t get to meet her (even though we were the only ones there!) she smiled at us and we all like freaked out and grinned like idiots back. Her and the cast were so cute too, they were like fake punching each other and laughing and ah it was amazing, hopefully they’re still filming tomorrow so I can go watch again!

crydaisy:

brokendildo:

my friends cat had surgery and now he has no pants

Half cat half uncooked chicken omg

crydaisy:

brokendildo:

my friends cat had surgery and now he has no pants

Half cat half uncooked chicken omg

phoenixwrites:

amandasmouth:

phoenixwrites:

Yeeeeeep.

I completely disagree. Hook is beautifully written with a back story and good character development. He’s funny and brave. And he genuinely loves Emma and even little Henry.
People who don’t like Hook don’t dislike him because of him. They dislike him because the writers killed off Bae. And that’s sad. Bae dying sucked. A LOT. But to hate Hook for it is just immature.

Hook has had zero to no character development.  He went from locking Snow and Emma in an enchanted jail cell to rot, physically assaulting Belle, to suddenly being “a good guy” for absolutely no reason aside from an inexplicable feeling for Emma.  Which also had no lead-up.
He hasn’t known Emma long enough to really love her and considering he’s spent most of his life on a revenge quest for his former love—sorry, not buying that he’s suddenly “in love with Emma” within what, a week of knowing her?  Bullshit.  That’s rushed writing.  That’s bad writing.  And I guaranfuckingtee you, if he were played by an old, unattractive guy, Hook would not be thrust into a hastily rushed relationship with Emma nor would he be on a badly-written redemption arc.
People dislike Hook because he’s a shabbily written character, has had no resolution towards the terrible things he’s done, but is suddenly being thrust in the center light purely because he’s physically attractive and snarky and a shallow audience likes that.  .  

phoenixwrites:

amandasmouth:

phoenixwrites:

Yeeeeeep.

I completely disagree. Hook is beautifully written with a back story and good character development. He’s funny and brave. And he genuinely loves Emma and even little Henry.

People who don’t like Hook don’t dislike him because of him. They dislike him because the writers killed off Bae. And that’s sad. Bae dying sucked. A LOT. But to hate Hook for it is just immature.

Hook has had zero to no character development.  He went from locking Snow and Emma in an enchanted jail cell to rot, physically assaulting Belle, to suddenly being “a good guy” for absolutely no reason aside from an inexplicable feeling for Emma.  Which also had no lead-up.

He hasn’t known Emma long enough to really love her and considering he’s spent most of his life on a revenge quest for his former love—sorry, not buying that he’s suddenly “in love with Emma” within what, a week of knowing her?  Bullshit.  That’s rushed writing.  That’s bad writing.  And I guaranfuckingtee you, if he were played by an old, unattractive guy, Hook would not be thrust into a hastily rushed relationship with Emma nor would he be on a badly-written redemption arc.

People dislike Hook because he’s a shabbily written character, has had no resolution towards the terrible things he’s done, but is suddenly being thrust in the center light purely because he’s physically attractive and snarky and a shallow audience likes that.  .  

(Source: confessuponatime)

Open Letter to ESL Learners

If you get me to give you my number under the pretense of “speaking better English”  and then immediately text me a pick-up line in your native language, I am going to be pissed. Dude, I gave you my number so that you could have a person with whom you could practice your English, not for your bullshit French romantics.

MEN OF THE WORLD: STOP TRICKING WOMEN INTO GIVING OUT THEIR PERSONAL INFO. STOP PRESSURING WOMEN INTO GIVING OUT THEIR PERSONAL INFO. STOP BEING FUCKING DOUCHEWADS.

bogusjake:

when ur running down the stairs with no bra on

image

(Source: marlboro-kisses)

becauseiamawoman:

Self-care cheat sheet via honoryourselfnow.net

becauseiamawoman:

Self-care cheat sheet via honoryourselfnow.net

basedpidgeot:

ker-smash:

taskscape:

ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS

Give me this owl

stuff like this keeps me going. y’know? why should i be sad when there’s a guy somewhere who goes about his normal life with an owl following him about

(Source: poyzn)

zero-graviza:

Do you hear the people sing…? No? Well, you’re going to. Because I know all the Les Mis songs and I’m not afraid to use them

pyksii:

saddeer:

I have this weird theory that some people are drawn to each other because their atoms were near each other when the universe was created and over time the same atoms keep coming back together

DID YOU JUST SCIENTIFICALLY EXPLAIN SOUL MATES?!

n0-p0st-0n-sunday:

pvnkslut:

If you pull me on your lap there is a 101% chance I’m going to make out with you.

i would advise you to avoid santa

youngbloodcaster:

onesilentcall:

sammybitchfacewinchester:

reading-rainbow:

THIS AIN’T A SCENE, IT’S A

GAH

DEH

ARH

REH

WE’RE GOING DOWN DOWN INANULLIARAN

AND SUGAR WE’RE GOING DOWN SWINGIN’

I’LL BE YANUMBAWAH WITHABULLIN

ALLUDIGA CORNFLAKES COCKITENBOOLIT

DANCE DANCE, WEFALLEENAPAH DOO HURRDAH

DANCE DANCE, ANEEZADA LIES YOU LUVDALEEB

This has made me realize 90% of old Fall Ouut Boy songs wouldn’t need to be changed into Simlish for a Sims game.

cupidmike:

mjwatson:

A Response to ‘Women Against Feminism.’
Imagine this:
The year is 2014. You are a white Western woman. You wake up in the morning in a comfortably sized house or flat. You have a full or part-time job that enables you to pay your rent or mortgage. You have been to school and maybe even college or university as well. You can read and write and count. You own a car or have a driver’s licence. You have enough money in your own bank account to feed and clothe yourself. You have access to the Internet. You can vote. You have a boyfriend or girlfriend of your choosing, who you can also marry if you want to, and raise a family with. You walk down the street wearing whatever you feel like wearing. You can go to bars and clubs and sleep with whomever you want.
Your world is full of freedom and possibility.
Then you pick up a newspaper or go online. You read about angry women ranting about sexism and inequality. You see phrases like ‘rape-culture’ and ‘slut-shaming.’ You furrow your brow and think to yourself: ‘What are they so angry about? There is no such thing as sexism anymore.’
Now imagine this: 
The year is 2013. You are a 25 year-old Pakistani woman. A few months ago, you married the man you love. A man you choose for yourself. You are also pregnant with his child. You see your life stretching out before you, filled with hope and happiness. Suddenly, you and your husband are dragged away from each other. You are both beaten with bricks and batons. You can’t fight back. You can’t escape. No one comes to help you. Through your fading vision, you look up, and look into the eyes of one of your assailants: into the eyes of your father.
The year is 2013. You are a 23 year-old Indian woman. You are a physiotherapy student with a promising career ahead of you. You are sitting on a private bus travelling home alone on a warm December evening. You gaze out of the window as the buildings of New Dheli rush past you and feel content. Suddenly, a blunt force hits the back of your head and you fall to the floor of the bus. A group of strange men are standing over you. They bring the metal bar down on you again and again and again until all you can taste is the blood filling up your mouth. You pray that you will die soon. And you do, but not then. You are raped, beaten, and tortured over and over again. Death is slow and agonising.
The year is 2014. You are a 13 year-old girl from Niger. You no longer live there though. You are now living in the neighbouring country Nigeria, sitting alone in small room on a small bed in a small apartment high above the city of Kano. You are not allowed to leave. Your stomach is swollen from the unwanted life growing inside of it. You had no choice. The father is a man in his 40s. He is a businessman. He has bought you as his wife. You were a penniless, uneducated girl when he came for you. You don’t know of any life you could have had. Neither did your family: just one less mouth for them to feed. You still have the body of a child, and it’s straining under the pressure from the one inside of you. You feel like you’re about to be split in two. You don’t wonder if you will survive the birth. A part of you doesn’t want to.
These are fictionalised accounts of real events that have happened to real women living in our world today. They follow the past 250 years of women and men campaigning for women to be given equal rights to men to prevent these kinds of injustices and abuses on the grounds of gender taking place. Over the course of this time, campaigners – Feminists, both female and male – have been locked up, beaten, tortured, and even killed, in the pursuit of equality. They did this with pen and ink and print; they did this with their voices; they did this with their bodies; they did this with art and music; they did in courts of law and halls and houses of government that they fought be to allowed into.
They did this so that women would no longer been seen as property, livestock, breeding machines, sex objects, punching bags, or infantile morons. They did this not just for themselves, but also for their daughters, and their daughters, and their daughters for generations to come. They did this for women they would never meet – women who lived across countries, across vast oceans, across the entire globe, and even across time.
They did this so that women like me – a white Western woman – could attend school and university; to learn to read, write, and think critically; to gain a degree; to get a job and be paid an equal salary to a man in the same position; and to sit here with my own computer and type all of this.
Feminism is a movement for freedom, equality, choice, love, compassion, respect, solidarity, and education. We may argue, we may disagree, we may struggle to understand the choices and perspectives of others sometimes, but these core beliefs of the movement have never changed, and they never will.
That is why I am a Feminist.
If you feel that you have so far lived your life unaffected by even the mildest form of sexism – anything from feeling uncomfortable when a man catcalls you in the street, to feeling scared walking home alone at night in a secluded area – and are treated with love and respect by every man in your life, then to you I say: I’m glad for you. If you don’t think you need feminism, then that is a victory for the movement. You have fulfilled all those dreams that every suffragette being force-fed in prison and every ‘witch’ burnt at the stake dreamed you would one day.
But perhaps take a second to consider the life of the Pakistani woman who was beaten to death by her own family for marrying a man of her choosing. Or the life of the Indian woman who was raped, beaten, and murdered on a bus by a gang of men. Or the life of the little girl in Niger who was sold to a man more than twice her own age and forced to carry a baby that may kill her to deliver. Do they still need feminism?
And perhaps take a second to consider this too: Even in our liberal, Western world, why do women still only fill 24% of senior management jobs? Why are more women than men domestically abused or even killed every week at the hands of their male partner or ex-partner? Why is there still a pay gap (in the UK specifically) of 15% for women doing the same jobs and working the same hours as men?
And what about on a cultural level? Have you ever noticed how comedy panel shows usually only have one female panellist compared to 4-5 male ones? That almost every dieting product on the market is solely aimed at women? How a lot of newspapers and advertising campaigns will use a sexualised or pornographic image of a woman to sell news or products that have nothing to do with sex?
Or perhaps on a personal level: Do you choose to wear certain clothes because you want to or because you feel ‘unfeminine’ if you don’t? Do you choose to cover yourself up because you want to or because you feel ashamed or intimidated by a man looking at your body? Do you shave your legs and underarm hair because you want to or because you will look ‘ugly’ if you don’t? Did you parents dress you in pink as a baby because they liked the colour or because you were born a girl? Do you want to have children because you want to or because you are a woman?
When you look at yourself in the mirror in the morning, do you see yourself through your own eyes, or through the eyes of the men that will look at you when you walk out the door?
The fact is, like it or not, you still live a world where gender matters. Where gender controls not just the entire course of your life – but the lives of women all over the world. Every second, a child will be born female in a country where she will persecuted for this random biological occurrence for the rest of her life. So before you hold up your anti-Feminist placard proudly and smile at your own sense of empowerment, think not what Feminism can do for you, but what it can do for that one girl. She needs someone to stand up for her. That someone could be you.
[ x ]

Read this. Read all of this. Then read it again.

cupidmike:

mjwatson:

A Response to ‘Women Against Feminism.’

Imagine this:

The year is 2014. You are a white Western woman. You wake up in the morning in a comfortably sized house or flat. You have a full or part-time job that enables you to pay your rent or mortgage. You have been to school and maybe even college or university as well. You can read and write and count. You own a car or have a driver’s licence. You have enough money in your own bank account to feed and clothe yourself. You have access to the Internet. You can vote. You have a boyfriend or girlfriend of your choosing, who you can also marry if you want to, and raise a family with. You walk down the street wearing whatever you feel like wearing. You can go to bars and clubs and sleep with whomever you want.

Your world is full of freedom and possibility.

Then you pick up a newspaper or go online. You read about angry women ranting about sexism and inequality. You see phrases like ‘rape-culture’ and ‘slut-shaming.’ You furrow your brow and think to yourself: ‘What are they so angry about? There is no such thing as sexism anymore.’

Now imagine this:

The year is 2013. You are a 25 year-old Pakistani woman. A few months ago, you married the man you love. A man you choose for yourself. You are also pregnant with his child. You see your life stretching out before you, filled with hope and happiness. Suddenly, you and your husband are dragged away from each other. You are both beaten with bricks and batons. You can’t fight back. You can’t escape. No one comes to help you. Through your fading vision, you look up, and look into the eyes of one of your assailants: into the eyes of your father.

The year is 2013. You are a 23 year-old Indian woman. You are a physiotherapy student with a promising career ahead of you. You are sitting on a private bus travelling home alone on a warm December evening. You gaze out of the window as the buildings of New Dheli rush past you and feel content. Suddenly, a blunt force hits the back of your head and you fall to the floor of the bus. A group of strange men are standing over you. They bring the metal bar down on you again and again and again until all you can taste is the blood filling up your mouth. You pray that you will die soon. And you do, but not then. You are raped, beaten, and tortured over and over again. Death is slow and agonising.

The year is 2014. You are a 13 year-old girl from Niger. You no longer live there though. You are now living in the neighbouring country Nigeria, sitting alone in small room on a small bed in a small apartment high above the city of Kano. You are not allowed to leave. Your stomach is swollen from the unwanted life growing inside of it. You had no choice. The father is a man in his 40s. He is a businessman. He has bought you as his wife. You were a penniless, uneducated girl when he came for you. You don’t know of any life you could have had. Neither did your family: just one less mouth for them to feed. You still have the body of a child, and it’s straining under the pressure from the one inside of you. You feel like you’re about to be split in two. You don’t wonder if you will survive the birth. A part of you doesn’t want to.

These are fictionalised accounts of real events that have happened to real women living in our world today. They follow the past 250 years of women and men campaigning for women to be given equal rights to men to prevent these kinds of injustices and abuses on the grounds of gender taking place. Over the course of this time, campaigners – Feminists, both female and male – have been locked up, beaten, tortured, and even killed, in the pursuit of equality. They did this with pen and ink and print; they did this with their voices; they did this with their bodies; they did this with art and music; they did in courts of law and halls and houses of government that they fought be to allowed into.

They did this so that women would no longer been seen as property, livestock, breeding machines, sex objects, punching bags, or infantile morons. They did this not just for themselves, but also for their daughters, and their daughters, and their daughters for generations to come. They did this for women they would never meet – women who lived across countries, across vast oceans, across the entire globe, and even across time.

They did this so that women like me – a white Western woman – could attend school and university; to learn to read, write, and think critically; to gain a degree; to get a job and be paid an equal salary to a man in the same position; and to sit here with my own computer and type all of this.

Feminism is a movement for freedom, equality, choice, love, compassion, respect, solidarity, and education. We may argue, we may disagree, we may struggle to understand the choices and perspectives of others sometimes, but these core beliefs of the movement have never changed, and they never will.

That is why I am a Feminist.

If you feel that you have so far lived your life unaffected by even the mildest form of sexism – anything from feeling uncomfortable when a man catcalls you in the street, to feeling scared walking home alone at night in a secluded area – and are treated with love and respect by every man in your life, then to you I say: I’m glad for you. If you don’t think you need feminism, then that is a victory for the movement. You have fulfilled all those dreams that every suffragette being force-fed in prison and every ‘witch’ burnt at the stake dreamed you would one day.

But perhaps take a second to consider the life of the Pakistani woman who was beaten to death by her own family for marrying a man of her choosing. Or the life of the Indian woman who was raped, beaten, and murdered on a bus by a gang of men. Or the life of the little girl in Niger who was sold to a man more than twice her own age and forced to carry a baby that may kill her to deliver. Do they still need feminism?

And perhaps take a second to consider this too: Even in our liberal, Western world, why do women still only fill 24% of senior management jobs? Why are more women than men domestically abused or even killed every week at the hands of their male partner or ex-partner? Why is there still a pay gap (in the UK specifically) of 15% for women doing the same jobs and working the same hours as men?

And what about on a cultural level? Have you ever noticed how comedy panel shows usually only have one female panellist compared to 4-5 male ones? That almost every dieting product on the market is solely aimed at women? How a lot of newspapers and advertising campaigns will use a sexualised or pornographic image of a woman to sell news or products that have nothing to do with sex?

Or perhaps on a personal level: Do you choose to wear certain clothes because you want to or because you feel ‘unfeminine’ if you don’t? Do you choose to cover yourself up because you want to or because you feel ashamed or intimidated by a man looking at your body? Do you shave your legs and underarm hair because you want to or because you will look ‘ugly’ if you don’t? Did you parents dress you in pink as a baby because they liked the colour or because you were born a girl? Do you want to have children because you want to or because you are a woman?

When you look at yourself in the mirror in the morning, do you see yourself through your own eyes, or through the eyes of the men that will look at you when you walk out the door?

The fact is, like it or not, you still live a world where gender matters. Where gender controls not just the entire course of your life – but the lives of women all over the world. Every second, a child will be born female in a country where she will persecuted for this random biological occurrence for the rest of her life. So before you hold up your anti-Feminist placard proudly and smile at your own sense of empowerment, think not what Feminism can do for you, but what it can do for that one girl. She needs someone to stand up for her. That someone could be you.

[ x ]

Read this. Read all of this. Then read it again.