you are my sunshine
my only sunshine
you make me happy
when skies are gray
you’ll never know dear
how much i love you
please dont take
my sunshine away
Once a year, every year, right?
no but women are so badass okay
because there will inevitably come a point in every woman’s life where she wakes up in a pool of her own blood and her reaction will be dammit now i have to do laundry
that is some suave superhero shit and you won’t ever be able to convince me otherwise
so far Tumblr is obsessed with:
- A genocidal, time-travelling alien
- A sociopathic detective
- An insane, mass-murdering god of mischief
- A manipulative cannibal
- Two monster-hunting serial killers
welcome to tumblr
Don’t forget the gay angel
This is so accurate I want to cry
Have you ever noticed how anti-homosexual arguments from the Bible are often MUCH less researched than those that support it? Like how they tend to exclusively get their arguments from a literal translation of solely specific English translations, and stand upon that thin pedestal, also negating research, culture, and society and it just frustrates me SO much.
This is so correct and is the bane of my existence right now. “Well I see this word here in English so it MUST mean—” no please stop.
asks you if she’s pretty
your heart will drop like a wineglass
on the hardwood floor
part of you will want to say
of course you are, don’t ever question it
and the other part
the part that is clawing at
will want to grab her by her shoulders
look straight into the wells of
her eyes until they echo back to you
you do not have to be if you don’t want to
it is not your job
both with feel right
one will feel better
she will only understand the first
when she wants to cut her hair off
or wear her brother’s clothes
you will feel the words in your
mouth like marbles
you do not have to be pretty if you don’t want to
it is not your job” —it is not your job | Caitlyn Siehl (via faintestglance)
2. when school starts and you want to jump rope instead of play kickball, be careful not to trip and hurt your knees.
3. if you grow up and a boy makes your heart hurt, you do not have to be ashamed.
4. if you fall in love with a girl
who wears the same clothes
as you, it will be easy for me to buy you both presents.
5. if I teach you anything, I will teach you to be gentle.
6. you are not Atlas and the world
is not a burden for you to carry.
7. if you do not like your body, if you feel like you were put inside the wrong one, I will stand by and watch you become again.
8. because we are human beings and we do not always have to
take what we are given.
9. I will love you constantly, fervently, always.
10. I will teach you the value of
the word “no” so that, when you hear it, you do not question it.
11. when the war comes
and you want to fight, I will
sleep with clenched fists until you come home to me.
12. when the war comes and you don’t want to go, I will sleep soundly.
13. you are allowed to be soft. you are allowed to break and bend. you do not have to be strong. you do not have to be a soldier.” —a letter to my future son | Caitlyn S. (via alonesomes)
For as much as they tell you about Stop Drop and Roll as a kid, I really expected to be on fire more times in my life.
i just sprayed a giant spider with febreeze for like fifteen straight seconds do you think it’s dead i’m afraid to go check
Obviously Doctor Who has brought me to tears time and time again
And let’s not even talk about LOST
But I’ve never been as emotionally wrecked by an episode of television on a real-life level like I was by The Body.
I was curled up on the couch, all horrible gasping choking crying sounds. But not because of fictional characters, not really. Because it wasn’t about the death, it was about the negative space around it. The reactions. The people still living. And those reactions: putting your fist through a wall, socially inappropriate outbursts, needing to see to believe, crying about what to wear to the morgue. Those could be anyone’s. That was what was so real about this episode. There was no soundtrack. No relief. It wasn’t fantasy, it was life left over. It didn’t offer any escape from that because there isn’t any escape from death. There are sisters to grieve with and father-figures to fill out the paperwork and friends to bring back too much food from the vending machines because they panicked, but there is no escape from it.
Good job, Joss Whedon. I’m always impressed, but this time I was blown away.
Last time I checked we were Christ followers, not Paul followers.
Well for Christ followers, we sure do pay a lot of attention to his letters.
Honestly, why are we even discussing swearing anymore? Are we in high-school? Stop focusing on what you think is bad. Start focusing on what you think is good (or what is good, you know, like, feeding the poor or helping the broken).
Amen. Let’s get over ourselves and get some stuff done, mmkay?
I KEEP THINKING I HAVE MESSAGES AND THEN IT’S JUST THIS UGH WHY
- BBC: Wow.
- ABC: Yeah, I know, isn't it great? Anyways, at the end, he--
- BBC: Wait
- BBC: Wait
- BBC: You're saying
- BBC: The main character...survives to the end?
- ABC: Well...yes
- ABC: Yeah, yes.
- BBC: I...don't understand
- ABC: Well, you see, by the tenth season the fanbase has become very attached to him.
- BBC: Tenth...
- BBC: season...?
No shit you don’t understand when you lump 3.5 billion people into a single stereotype.
Post ‘Journey’s End’ AU where Nine is the half-human Doctor…
Special thanks to christinatylerrp for beta reading…
The pressure bandage made that horrible sound of stretching synthetic material as the Doctor wound it around Rose’s wrist. She refused to meet his gaze. He wasn’t even offering her a gaze to meet, eyes turned to his work. Over, under, over, under. Rose winced at every new layer of wrapping. She flexed her fingers impatiently. The Doctor shook his head.
“If you’re gonna complain you can do this yourself.”
“Fat lot of good that’d be,” Rose muttered. “Don’t know the first thing about first aid, do I?”
“Don’t know the first thing about safety, more like.”
“You’re one to talk.”
The Doctor pulled the bandage taught and bent over her wrist, tearing the polyester to a proper length with his teeth.
“You’re not supposed to do that,” Rose chided. “It’s one of those ACE bandages, you don’t need to cut it just wrap it once more.”
“Any more and you’ll lose circulation,” the Doctor grumbled. He secured the bandage with the little metal hooks and placed a kiss on the back of Rose’s hand. “There.”
Rose pulled her arm away, working the kiss into her skin with the thumb of her opposite hand. “Thanks.”
A moment of tense silence went by, Rose sitting with her legs dangling over the edge of the Torchwood hospital exam table and the Doctor watching her intently from his exam chair. “Are you gonna tell me what happened or do I have to hack Torchwood’s mission report records again?” Rose didn’t answer, tugging absently at the fraying corner of the bandage’s modified end. The Doctor leaned forward, licking the pad of his thumb and rubbing a smear of dirt off of Rose’s cheek. “Hey,” he said, stern but gentle. “Tell me what happened.”
She unconsciously leaned into his touch. “Long day.” The Doctor cupped the side of her face in his palm, fingers massaging the hairline behind her ear. A satisfied hum escaped her throat. “That feels nice.”
He stared pointedly at her. She sighed. “Field mission. Recon work in one of the -stan countries. Don’t remember which.”
“Pakistan?” The Doctor pulled his hand away and sat back in his chair, arms habitually folding over his chest.
“Maybe. Doesn’t really matter now. We were there investigating a…” She waved her uninjured hand by her head, searching for the word. “An occurrence. Something falling from the sky, like normal. Intel got the report O-two-hundred. Dispatch called me in.”
The Doctor nodded. “Heard you leave. You didn’t say goodbye.”
“Thought you were asleep.”
“You know I don’t sleep.”
The Doctor snorted. “Don’t make this about me. Back to Pakistan, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan… Afghanistan, maybe?”
Rose’s mouth twitched. “I think it was Afghanistan, actually. Had to wear my desert camo. The jacket’s about a size too small.”
“Oh,” the Doctor smirked. “I am a fan of your desert camo.”
A genuine smile lit Rose’s face and her eyes met the Doctor’s for the first time since he’d walked into the exam room. He smiled back. Her face fell, eyes dropping hastily, almost as if she felt guilty for grinning.
“What happened, love?”
So if I understand scripture one way, and he understands it another way, is that it then? Do we part ways? Or do we take the bread and the wine and does Christ hold us together? Is there something that trumps whatever differences we have?
This is sort of the bullshit that really pushes people away (from the church). That when you have a particular conviction, and all of the sudden your orthodoxy, or your faithfulness to Jesus is called into question. Every time I’m in an interview like this it always comes down to this. “Are you not a Christian?” “Have you gone liberal?” “Have you given up?”
This is why so many people don’t want to be a part of a church. Because if you on a particular issue, see it this way and not this way, your entire faith is called into question. This is why so many people just give up, and; This isn’t an issue of taking God seriously, this isn’t an issue of God’s holiness, or an issue of discipleship, this is an issue of the tent might be a little bigger.” —Rob Bell (via dancinglikeghosts)