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Sept. 17 1:10 pm

jean-luc-gohard:

justice4mikebrown:

The Shaun King storify is a must-read.

Ferguson     Michael Brown     ArrestDarrenWilson     

[x]

Steve McQueen     

delanesbrain:

Night time on the Heritage Trail.

Minneapolis     Stone Arch Bridge     St. Anthony     Heritage Trail     my heart     

I don’t know if my being here will help bring you back. But I am here.

The X-Files     this arc killed me     

young avengers mcu: arden cho as kate bishop (hawkeye)

young avengers mcu: arden cho as kate bishop (hawkeye)

Kate Bishop     Hawkeye     

banji-realness:

breelifts:

socialjusticekoolaid:

Protesters from across St Louis turned up and turned out for the first St Louis County Council Meeting since Mike Brown’s Death. (Part I)

The St Louis County Council wasn’t as bad as Ferguson’s Council, but still very few answers and virtually no accountability from the folks who unleashed unholy hell on the residents of Ferguson, following Brown’s murder. #staywoke #farfromover

KEEP POSTING I NEED TO KNOW! DONT STOP POSTING ABOUT THIS. IT IS NOT OVER!

Arrest Darren Wilson and all cops who extrajudicially execute black people!

Ferguson     ArrestDarrenWilson     

beans28:

Flip-Flop

9.16.14

Minneapolis     my heart     

thenorthwestexplorer:

Hart Cove

Location: Central Oregon Coast

Date: August 31st, 2014

landscape     photography     Oregon     

gang0fwolves:

I love my skin!

Im gonna cry :’)..

Lupita Nyong'o     

If you are female, expressing hatred for your own body is not just acceptable, it’s practically de rigeur. Failure to indulge in the requisite amount of self-flagellation – my thighs! my skin! my face! – isn’t just negligent, it’s unfeminine. Self-hatred is fundamental to how femininity is constructed, more fundamental than any of the more obvious external symbols (dress, make-up, shoes). What matters is not that you are beautiful, but you know your place in the beauty hierarchy (and since every woman ages, every woman’s place will eventually be somewhere at the bottom).

Young women are encouraged to bond over their dislike of excess body hair, surplus flesh and “uneven” skin. They are meant to do so in a jovial way, egged on by perky adverts informing them what “real women” do: worry about having underarms beautiful enough for a sleeveless top, celebrate curves with apologetic booty shakes and cackle ruefully over miserable Sex-and-the-City-style lunches of Ryvita and Dulcolax. It’s a gendered ritual; men get football and booze, women get control pants and detoxes. We are supposed, of course, to be grateful. Hey, you don’t have to be perfect! Just know you’re not perfect and act accordingly, with the appropriate levels of guilt and shame!

Fairy tale after fairy tale tells us that what matters is being beautiful “on the inside” but what does that really mean? It means submission, obedience and the suppression of one’s own desires. Don’t be haughty and proud. Clean the hearth. Kiss the frog. Love the beast. Suck it up when you’re replaced by a younger model. Sure, you may look fine, but you mustn’t feel fine. You mustn’t be vain. You mustn’t be angry. All fury and pain must be turned back on itself. That way you’ll be a real princess: silent, fragile and never threatening to challenge the status quo.

- Glosswatch, Almost Famous, real women, and the normalisation of self-hate. (via nextyearsgirl)

There will come a time when you want to cut off all your hair. Do it. Realise that the thing you want rid of doesn’t lie in the long curls that frame your face so perfectly. Live with short hair for a while. It’ll grow.

You won’t always want to talk to people. That’s okay. When it’s late and you hear your friends talking in the next room, you don’t have to join them. You’re allowed your solitude. It makes company sweeter and it teaches you how to survive alone. You will need that skill.

In the winter, you’ll believe that nothing will ever grow again. You’re wrong. Every year, London looks like it’s on its last legs, wheezing through those last cold days in March. Every year, spring comes like an explosion and the city shakes off its sleep.

Mundane problems will get the better of you sometimes. Don’t worry. Try as you might, life cannot be an endless, beautiful, intense moment. Find comfort in money worries and late trains; they’re a welcome rest in between heartbreaks and breakdowns.

People will call you a cynic, a wry smile on their faces. Pay them no mind. You alone know that you are capable of a love greater than anything they can comprehend. You alone know that you are not willing to sell your identity and respect to the first smirking halfwit to pass by. It is not cynicism. It is reverence for your own vast and fathomless heart, and it makes sense only to love someone who understands that and is awed by it.

You will not always get what you want when you want it. Accept it. Your goals are not set in stone and you are not on a fixed trajectory. Sometimes, life will take its time and you will have to play the long, interminable game. Play it well and with as much grace as you can muster. Live at your own pace.

At night, you will occasionally wake up afraid, wanting to die. Don’t give in. Night plays its tricks, but you are not so easily fooled. Your mind will play its tricks, too. It will make you believe that you’re not who you are, but you must not give in. You take a breath and you tell yourself that you are here. That you always were.

- Practical Advice for Difficult Women (#20 - 9th December)
self-care     
”Guardians of the Galaxy suffers from the common Hollywood problem of making every single incidental character a man, from the Nova Corps officers to the space pirates to the prison guards to Ronan’s goons. The only background female character is the Collector’s assistant, whose role is to scrub things while wearing a minidress and then get blown up.
- How Guardians of the Galaxy fails women  (via coulda-been-played-by-a-woman)
GOTG     sexism     bless     

imaginarycircus:

ducktrainer:

saemiligr:

dear-monday:

So we know it’s JK’s headcanon that Dudley has a magical child, right? Imagine his kid starting to show signs of magic and Dudley remembering all the odd things that used to happen around Harry. Imagine his kid coming home from Hogwarts and being all, “WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME UNCLE HARRY WAS FAMOUS?” Imagine Dudley reading up on Harry and finding out about all the stuff he did and all the things that happened to him and struggling to grasp how his scrawny, speccy cousin saved the wizarding world. Imagine Dudley, white-faced with terror at his first big family get-together with Harry, Hermione and all the remaining Weasleys. Imagine Mrs Weasley being decidedly cool towards him until he eats fifth helpings of everything she cooks and telling her that she’s the best cook he’s ever met. Imagine Dudley meeting Fleur. Imagine the others embarrassing Harry by telling Dudley stories about him. Imagine Dudley and Harry going down the pub together for beers. Imagine Harry still calling him Big D. Imagine Dudley cheerfully never dieting ever again and being fat and happy forever THE END.

This makes me absurdly happy

did they just made me happy about DUDLEY

I have thought about this before. I imagined Dudley breaking down and sending Harry a letter somehow or other. Like maybe he goes to all the local nature preserves and quietly talks to all the owls until one agrees to take his letter. And he tells Harry his small daughter made their TV only play old reruns of the Vicar of Dibley for a month and she somehow turned every plate of vegetables into a pudding. And so he’s sorry to ask, but he needs help. His wife is at her wit’s end. Please help.

Read More

Harry Potter     Dudley Dursley     i'm not crying     you're crying     

excepttheeyes:

"Gideon Prewett. It took five Death Eaters to kill him and his brother Fabian. They fought like heroes."

(Rose Leslie as Molly Prewett/Weasley, Eddie Redmayne as Gideon and Fabian Prewett, Arthur Darvill as Arthur Weasley)

Harry Potter     Molly Weasely     Arthur Weasley     creys     
No One's Gonna Love You by Band of Horses
we’re reeling through an endless fall
we are the ever-living ghost of what once was
but no one is ever gonna love you more than i do
no one’s gonna love you more than i do
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