I want a friend that I can just lean against and relax like that.

(via eustaciavye77)




I remember how much her realization that she was “never going to be good enough for him” resonated with me when I first watched this movie. She decided to push herself, not to be with him, but to prove him the fuck wrong.

Strong female role models who can still wear pink and love fashion. Yes yes yes.







It’s not perfect, the straw feminist character is annoying and unnecessary for instance, but I love this movie, too.

(via seananmcguire)





goodbye i’m gone bye


via thesilverdevastation



And in contrast, observe Rose Tyler, BAMF, in promo stills for Series 1:

Firmly rooted. Looking straight at the camera. NOT smiling.  Even when Nine is guarding her with his body, she’s directly engaging with whatever they’re confronting. And sometimes she’s looking at the viewer, or the action, and Nine is looking at *her*.  She’s a force to be reckoned with. She’s a force to be reckoned with.

I am so done with Doctor Who. I loved 9 and 10 so much, and Rose and Martha and especially Donna. I tried to like 11, I tried to like Amy and Clara, but now I am done.

(via stfu-moffat)




it takes 237 muscles to fake an orgasm but 15 to say “it’s called a clitoris and it’s right here”

#don’t ever fake an orgasm let them know they disappointed you

In the interests of honesty, there are sometimes good reasons for faking.  Either you’re bored/tired/want to get it over with and the other person seems to think it’s an Olympic event and you know if that person gets the reaction they want you can go home and watch TV or read, or your partner has done everything you like, but you are just not hitting on all cylinders that day.  Sometimes faking it is just the end to an event that has stretched out well past fun.

This is my experience.  Your results may vary.

Really? You can’t just say “I’m done for now” or “It’s not happening tonight”? Those do not sound like people worth having sex with, if they can’t accept that.


Chris Pratt is so adorable.

Yeah, but I’m reblogging it for the raccoon.

(via zarhooie)






What’s interesting about good and moral people is that they actually have to try and function in a word that isn’t. And the older you get, the more interesting that becomes. Because it’s also the hardest thing to do in the world. (x) (x)

#yes #yes this so very much #it’s easy to be an asshole in a world full of assholes #especially when you have/had a shit life and have/had some nasty shit happened to you #but to still be kind #not to waver #to stay who you are #is a very hard thing to do #it’s easy to love #and it’s easy to hate #but it takes strength to be gentle and kind #and this is why every single superhero in the marvel universe looks up to steve #clint said it himself #steve brings out the best out of people #when you’re around steve you want to do what’s right because of the sheer power of steve’s goodness #oh god  #steve i love you so much it actually pains me please send help

And this is why I love Steve Rogers and I refuse to buy into this crap that “writing Good Guys is boring” and “let’s grim him up a bit, make him more into Grim Brooding Dark Superhero Name Here, that’ll be interesting.” 

Writing Good Guys is never boring. 

The ridiculous thing about Steve Rogers is that he is everything that is brave, earnest and true.  And no, he’s not perfect, he’s not a saint, he’s sassy and snarky and occasionally trips face first into the Land of Adorkable. (All right, maybe not occasionally.  Maybe all the flippin’ time.)  But good is awesome.  Good rocks.  Good doesn’t mean soft and weak and boring.  

Doing the Right Thing is hard and it hurts like a sumbitch at times and you’ll get crap thrown at you every which way but Steve Rogers keeps going and somehow manages to stay kind and still be this sweetheart, despite everything else that would’ve broken other people long ago.  

Somehow you read about Steve being playful and pretending that he doesn’t understand modern technology but is probably the biggest techie geek there is.  You read about Steve saving puppies and kittens and telling a wide-eyed six year old girl that she can be Captain America when she grows up if she wants to be.  You read about Steve charming little old ladies and respecting the hell out of women in general and you can bet your ass he’s not some chauvinistic asshole with entitlement issues.  You read about skinny Steve and you realize Captain America’s always been in him, even when he didn’t have the strength to match that superhero heart of his.  You read about Steve trolling the hell out of his teammates and Tony goes “SON OF A BITCH WHO KNEW?!” and Clint cackles over and over because this is rich, this is awesome, Captain America’s a little trolling shit and PHIL DID YOU SEE THAT?

And Bucky would’ve told him, Steve’s always been a punk, didn’t you fellas know that?

And the Howling Commandos would’ve had some stories about their crazy C.O. and the shenanigans he came up with and that Steve ran a mixed-race unit with a couple of soldiers from not even in the US ARMY and took no guff from anyone who complained about that

And Natasha doesn’t ever get disappointed in this good man, when she’s been disappointed by so many so called “good men” and she starts to believe.

And that’s the Steve Rogers story I’ll never get tired of reading.  Or writing. 

Fuck boring.  Steve Rogers will never be boring.  He’s my hero too. 

Did I reblog this already? I don’t care because IT GOT BETTER.

“Imaginary evil is romantic and varied; real evil is gloomy, monotonous, barren, boring. Imaginary good is boring; real good is always new, marvelous, intoxicating.”

― Simone Weil

Even better?  It’s not just MCU Steve that’s like this.  I’m reading some of the late 70’s/early 80’s issues right now, and what do we see but a Steve Rogers who spends two or three issues fighting a blockbuster who’s trying to burn Steve’s neighbors out of their homes so his employer can put up a shopping center - and the neighbors are a black special ed teacher, a Jewish glassblower, a white guy with a college degree who’s a firefighter because it’s the right thing to do, and a little old lady who’s a Holocaust survivor who was saved by Captain America in ‘45 (and doesn’t know who he is because he kept his mask on).  Later in the run he reestablishes contact with a childhood friend who’s gay and living with his boyfriend, and not only does Steve not recoil in horror, he defends their love as every bit as valid and worthy of respect as his relationship with his girlfriend. 

And the issues aren’t boring, and Steve isn’t a self-righteous goody-goody.  He blows his deadlines at work (he’s a freelance artist), he makes a fool of himself a couple of time romancing the pretty glassblower, he makes mistakes, he’s guilt-stricken because he let Bucky AND a poor guy named Roscoe who tried to sub for him as Cap die, and he makes mistakes.  It’s sweet and funny and yes, it’s clearly for kids and younger teens, but you know what?  These issues are well written and drawn, and as dated as they are in some ways, they’re so much more enjoyable than the grim, bitter wreck we see in the current comics, or the neocon jerkwad from Ults. 

Maybe, just maybe, the comics industry needs to remember to let their good guys be good for a change. 

(via tereshkova2001)


"you’ll change your mind about having kids some day"

you are right. it has happened. i have seen the light. i definitely want kids. i mean look how cute they are


(via zarhooie)

“Dude, you’re so edgy and politically incorrect. it’s totally ironic and satirical how you regurgitated those ancient and threadbare stereotypes. It reminds me of my great great great great grandpa, Cracker von Patriarch, who also challenged the status quo by embracing it with loving tenderness.”

I don’t know where I came across this, but it’s witty as fuck  (via naartje)


(via killyourenemies)

Take note college campuses (and the world, by extension).

(via note-a-bear)

Always reblog the Ballad of Cracker von Patriarch.

(via mumblingsage)

(via eustaciavye77)


OK but no, this actually makes me FURIOUS.

Because here’s the thing about socially sanctioned, fucked-up standards of female beauty: they train you from minute one to have shitty self perception, forever and ever, amen. I mean, this is literally where eating disorders come from, when you look in the mirror and still think you need to lose weight, even if your body is actually eating itself in a frantic bid to stay alive, and all because those size 0 jeans don’t fit yet. Their entire point is that women can’t win, and while fitting the very narrow parameters, or even some of the parameters, that our culture considers ideal might afford you certain privileges in terms of the clothes you can buy and the way certain people treat you, that doesn’t magically make you immune from insecurity, or self-hatred, or depression, or anything.

Here is the logic of patriarchy: only vain girls think they’re pretty; being vain is bad, and you’re not vain, so therefore, you can’t be pretty, either. Someone else is thinner than you; therefore, you can’t really be thin. Conventionally pretty girls are vapid whores, and you’re not a vapid whore; therefore, you’re not conventionally pretty, either, and any girl who is must be treated with utmost suspicion.  

Here is what happens when guys pay you attention as a teenage girl: sometimes, it’s creepy or unwanted or inappropriate or just not from anyone you’re interested in, and you’re still insecure as fuck; therefore, you feel unattractive. Or else, guys pay you attention, but you don’t feel like you’re allowed to acknowledge or enjoy it, even just at the level of a compliment, because that would make you a tease or a slut or an attention-whore, so you pretend it isn’t happening. Or maybe you’re gay or bi, and it doesn’t matter shit if guys are trailing around after you, because really you’ve got a crush on that redhead girl in your maths class and have absolutely zero idea about how to approach her. Or maybe you’re ace, and nobody who’s ever asked you out has understood what that means, and everyone you tell keeps making you feel like a freak for not being what they expect.

Here is what this comic says to me: that conventionally pretty girls who express insecurity about their appearance are infuriating and awful, because that insecurity cannot possibly be genuine, and is therefore only ever deployed as a way of fishing for compliments. Or else it’s because they know they’re beautiful, but also know they’re not allowed to act as if they believe it, and so just pretend to feel ugly as part of the social contract, which makes them fakers and liars. But either way, you’re totally justified in resenting them rather than offering friendship and positive reinforcement, because you’re not like other girls, are you! No, you’re special; you don’t go around being all boring and pretty while coding your speech in such a way as to potentially invite compliments. Only attention whores want compliments, after all, and you’re not an attention whore, so you don’t complain about your weight or your diet or your wardrobe issues or anything else that women are conventionally seen to be fixated with (even if you actually think about these things a lot), because then you’d be one of those women, and thus The Actual Worst.     

Which doesn’t mean it’s never frustrating if someone you consider to be conventionally attractive complains to you about how ugly or gross they feel, when you just can’t see what the problem is. After all, if you think they’re obviously way more gorgeous than you, and they’re calling themselves ugly, then what does that say about how you look to them? But, here, listen: Imma let you in on a little secret. The thing about insecurity and shitty, socially-conditioned self perception is, it’s utterly biased in favour of The Standards By Which I Judge Myself Are Different To The Standards By Which I Judge Other People. You can be a size eight and lamenting your lack of a thigh gap - which, by the way, don’t, because having one is actually dependent on the shape of your pelvic bone, and you can seriously hurt yourself trying to get one otherwise - and still think your curvy, size fourteen friend is beautiful, because you’re not judging her the way you judge yourself. You see your friends from the outside and know exactly why they’re worthy of love, but being inside your head, feeling freakish and uncertain and awful, it is so much harder to understand that you’re worthy, too. 

Yes, there are girls who fish for compliments by lamenting the lack positive of attributes they feel themselves to have, but do you know why this happens? Because fucking sexism tells us we’re not allowed to call ourselves beautiful; that beauty is the highest ideal we can ever hope to aspire to, but that it doesn’t matter for shit unless other people - and especially men - tell us we’ve succeeded. Of course some conventionally beautiful women fish for compliments; that is literally the way they’ve been trained to believe the system works. And of course some people - and not just women! - sometimes complain about their imaginary defects as a subtle way of disparaging others: because some people are fucking assholes, is why, and assholes will always try to manipulate the insecurities of others. But this is not a goddamn gender-specific trait, and acting like this is what women are always doing when they vocalise insecurities is counterfuckingproductive on a massive scale, and just: no. NO. THE NOPETOPUS RIDES AGAIN.



Here’s what this comic says to me: People who are not fat should not call themselves fat, because it minimizes and erases the lived experience of actual fat people. The last panel is not great, but the rest of it is spot-on.

I don’t disagree with a lot of what you said. Our society really shits on women’s body images in particular. But I will never be able to be sympathetic when someone who is literally half my size sits next to me and complains about how fat they are.