vvhitehouse:

attracted to men sexually, repelled by men emotionally


“This is The Department of Partially Deceased Affairs. You’re on our system as a primary care giver. Would you be interested in training to be a PDS Community Care Officer?”

“This is The Department of Partially Deceased Affairs. You’re on our system as a primary care giver. Would you be interested in training to be a PDS Community Care Officer?”

trinandtonic:

sherlockspeare:

(X)

hell yeah ben

HELL YEAH KEIRA

HELL YEAH

joegilgun:

Say what you want about Donna but to me, she was incredibly insightful, and I still think she was the smartest companion.

sparklehorsettes:

arya appreciation week ~ free day

8 of many themes explored throughout Arya’s arc

luke newberry at the launch party for hunger magazine [x]

"Men always say that as the defining compliment: the Cool Girl. She’s a cool girl. Being the Cool Girl means that I am a hot, brilliant, funny woman who adores football, poker, dirty jokes, and burping, who plays video games, drinks cheap beer, loves threesomes and anal sex, and jams hot dogs and hamburgers into her mouth like she’s hosting the world’s biggest culinary gang bang while somehow maintaining a size 2, because Cool Girls are above all hot. Hot and understanding. Cool Girls never get angry; they only smile in a chagrined, loving manner and let their men do whatever they want. Go ahead, shit on me, I don’t mind, I’m the Cool Girl.
Men actually think this girl exists. Maybe they’re fooled because so many women are willing to pretend to be this girl. For a long time Cool Girl offended me. I used to see these men - friends, coworkers, strangers - giddy over these awful pretender women, and I’d want to sit these men down and calmly say: You are not dating a woman, you are dating a woman who has watched too many movies written by socially awkward men who’d like to believe that this kind of woman exists and might kiss them. I’d want to grab the poor guy by his lapels or messenger bag and say: The bitch doesn’t really love chili dogs that much - no one loves chili dogs that much! And the Cool Girls are even more pathetic: They’re not even pretending to be the woman they want to be, they’re pretending to be the woman a man wants them to be. Oh, and if you’re not a Cool Girl, I beg you not to believe that your man doesn’t want the Cool Girl. It may be a slightly different version - maybe he’s a vegetarian, so Cool Girl loves seitan and is great with dogs; or maybe he’s a hipster artist, so Cool Girl is a tattooed, bespectacled nerd who loves comics. There are variations to the window dressing, but believe me, he wants Cool Girl, who is basically the girl who likes every fucking thing he likes and doesn’t ever complain. (How do you know you’re not Cool Girl? Because he says things like: ‘I like strong women.’ If he says that to you, he will at some point fuck someone else. Because ‘I like strong women’ is code for ‘I hate strong women.’)
I waited patiently - years - for the pendulum to swing the other way, for men to start reading Jane Austen, learn how to knit, pretend to like cosmos, organize scrapbook parties, and make out with each other while we leer. And then we’d say, Yeah, he’s a Cool Guy.
But it never happened. Instead, women across the nation colluded in our degradation! Pretty soon Cool Girl became the standard girl. Men believed she existed - she wasn’t just a dreamgirl one in a million. Every girl was supposed to be this girl, and if you weren’t, then there was something wrong with you."
Gone Girl, Gillian Flynn. (via whoistorule)

sloangrey:

"Look, I’ve known Jake forever. Our friendship is little-boy-holding-little-girl’s-hand."

"I am not a spy. I am plain Claire Beauchamp, and nothing more." | The Garrison Commander

Obstruction? What’s that? It doesn’t sound like a serious crime.

Ah, well, I suppose it’s whatever the English say it is. Aye, it was near to four years ago now. They put a levy on all the land-holders in the county, sent out small parties of soldiers collecting food, horses for transport, and suchlike. Aye, it was one day in October, Captain Randall came along to our place. My father was away. He’d gone to a funeral. I was up in the fields when I heard shouting.

spoken-not-written:

who-lligan:

artbymoga:

promising-promises:

princesssugarbutt:

So yeah I can see how many fingers you’re holding up

THIS IS VERY ACCURATE

THIS IS VERY BEAUTIFUL

Is this accurate? Is this what it’s actually like to not be able to see clearly?

yes