Powerpuff Girls was actually a show about a group of small children crushing the patriarchy and no one will convince me otherwise
Anyone who tries to convince you otherwise obviously wasn’t watching the same show.
Ah Jason, he is a total legend. Yes, our first ever meeting in the lobby of a Belfast hotel did start by him rugby tackling me to the floor yelling “WIFEY!!”
- Emilia Clarke
I AM SO BEYOND FUCKING DONE
reading a foreign language: yeah
writing in a foreign language: ok
listening to a foreign language: wait
speaking in a foreign language: fuck
”..Who the hell is Natasha?”
I became so engrossed in the idea of Natasha being the Winter Soldier I COULDN’T HELP IT
FUCK ME OH MY GOD
This is a sea otter with hiccups.
This would probably be funnier if that were actually a goddamn sea otter.
Recently, your mother and I were searching for an answer on Google. Halfway through entering the question, Google returned a list of the most popular searches in the world. Perched at the top of the list was “How to keep him interested.”
It startled me. I scanned several of the countless articles about how to be sexy and sexual, when to bring him a beer versus a sandwich, and the ways to make him feel smart and superior.
And I got angry.
Little One, it is not, has never been, and never will be your job to “keep him interested.”
Little One, your only task is to know deeply in your soul—in that unshakeable place that isn’t rattled by rejection and loss and ego—that you are worthy of interest. (If you can remember that everyone else is worthy of interest also, the battle of your life will be mostly won. But that is a letter for another day.)
If you can trust your worth in this way, you will be attractive in the most important sense of the word: you will attract a boy who is both capable of interest and who wants to spend his one life investing all of his interest in you.
Little One, I want to tell you about the boy who doesn’t need to be kept interested, because he knows you are interesting:
I don’t care if he puts his elbows on the dinner table—as long as he puts his eyes on the way your nose scrunches when you smile. And then can’t stop looking.
I don’t care if he can’t play a bit of golf with me—as long as he can play with the children you give him and revel in all the glorious and frustrating ways they are just like you.
I don’t care if he doesn’t follow his wallet—as long as he follows his heart and it always leads him back to you.
I don’t care if he is strong—as long as he gives you the space to exercise the strength that is in your heart.
I couldn’t care less how he votes—as long as he wakes up every morning and daily elects you to a place of honor in your home and a place of reverence in his heart.
I don’t care about the color of his skin—as long as he paints the canvas of your lives with brushstrokes of patience, and sacrifice, and vulnerability, and tenderness.
I don’t care if he was raised in this religion or that religion or no religion—as long as he was raised to value the sacred and to know every moment of life, and every moment of life with you, is deeply sacred.
In the end, Little One, if you stumble across a man like that and he and I have nothing else in common, we will have the most important thing in common:
Because in the end, Little One, the only thing you should have to do to “keep him interested” is to be you.
Your eternally interested guy,
Happy International Women’s Day
HTTYD2 Details1. fire reflected in eyes 2. fur vest 3. facial movements 4. soot mask 5. armour 6. grey hairs
Just stab me in the heart why don’t you? *sobbing*
Think twice before you judge a parent.
Guys, please watch this. This has to be one of the most powerful videos in the world, I bawled my eyes out
I REALLY HATE WHEN PEOPLE ARE RUDE TO TEACHERS FOR NO REASON
WOW!!!! A TEACHER WANTS ME TO PAY ATTENTION!!!! HOW CRUEL!!!!!
WHOA!!!!!! A TEACHER WANTS ME TO BE IN UNIFORM!!!!!! WHAT A BITCH!!!!!!!!
OH MAN!!!!!!!!!! A TEACHER WANTS ME TO PUT MY PHONE AWAY!!!!!!!! WHAT AN ASSHOLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
GEEZ!!!!!!!!!!!! NOW SHE’S YELLING AT ME!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHAT THE FUCK DID I EVER DO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Mikasa Fucking Ackerman
Mikasa Fucking Kick Everybody’s Ass Ackerman XD lol
Growing up, my dad had a rule. “You can’t get a tattoo. If you do, I will make you get it removed. Unless, that is, you join the army and can shoot a seagull in the eye from a mile away, or you have a near-death experience.”
On July 12, 2011, I rode my bicycle to the camp I worked at. On my way home, I rode down a hill, and stopped at the bottom. I looked both ways, and there was no car coming. I started to turn left when I got hit by a car going ~55 miles per hour. I completely shattered the windshield, and when the driver stopped, I was ejected back onto the road. The doctors in the emergency room were absolutely perplexed when I arrived, because they all agreed that I should have died, and they were amazed to release me 4 and a half hours later with only 16 stitches, a concussion, and a chipped tooth. During my recovery, I was angry and confused. A couple if days after my accident, I received cards from my eight year old campers. One of them drew a giant paper crane, and said, “if you fold a thousand paper cranes, you’ll get better”.
Not being able to read, ride a bicycle, or put stress on my body, I cut up an old sudoku puzzle, went on YouTube, and learned how to make a paper crane. By the end of the day, I had a laundry basket full of black and white paper cranes.
I kept making paper cranes, even after I made a thousand, and I ran into a dilemma. What do you do with paper cranes once you’ve made them? A girl in my class had committed suicide the same day I had my accident, and I brought a purple crane to her wake. Her family could not have been happier the moment I presented them with this crane. Something clicked in my head right there. I started giving them to people and hiding them in random places for people to find. I started making art with them, and they became a major part of who I was.
This tattoo is symbolic of my accident, and could not represent me any better.