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If Disney Princesses Were Actually Sloths by Jen Lewis

Previously: Nicolas Cage as Disney Princesses

Give unto me.

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You just have to feel it. You’ll know, okay? You just have to let it happen. And then, probably when you’re not looking, you’ll find someone who compliments you.

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Just because your pain is understandable, doesn’t mean your behavior is acceptable.

Steve Maraboli, Unapologetically You: Reflections on Life and the Human Experience (via derikisu)

Keep this one in your back pocket for the next time someone acts like an ass and then tells you they’ve been through a lot of stuff. Respectful and yet still firmly keeping respect for yourself. 

(via emilyvgordon)

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Repeat after me, folks: romantic plotlines don’t ruin female characters.

A female character isn’t weak because she has normal human emotions. She isn’t anti-feminist because she has vulnerabilities. There’s a difference between a female character existing entirely to be in love with the male character and a female character who happens to have a romantic subplot as part of her story.

It isn’t feminist to insist that female characters have to be “badass” unfeeling robots, detached from absolutely anything considered “feminine,” including, apparently, emotions. Sure, we don’t want female characters to be damsels in distress, but swinging in the other direction, to cardboard-cutout-badass-making-quips, isn’t much better. Good female characters appear human. And sorry, romance-haters, but love is a part of that.

Rhiannon, FeministFiction, “Down With Love” (via tiorickyaoi)


(via geekbap)

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just wanna get rich enough to buy my mom all the shit she deserves 

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It’s Monday, and your hair is messy. You haphazardly put on your jeans and shirt as you moan about the day of the week - and I love you.

It’s Tuesday, and you’re stumbling your way around the room, trying to sort out the things you have to do. You stop to briefly kiss the freckles on my nose, asking me about my day - and I love you.

It’s Wednesday, and you’re quietly sprawled on the couch. You pat the spot next to you and pepper kisses on my hair because it’s my least favorite day of the week (and you know it) - and I love you.

It’s Thursday, and you’re wondering what the weekend will bring, but you’re still moaning about how the week is going by too slow for your tastes - and I love you.

It’s Friday, and I’m surrounded by DVDs and snacks you’ve prepared when I was gone. You welcome me with blankets and warmth from your arms - and I love you.

It’s Saturday, and you’re feeling lazy. You won’t let me leave your arms (or is it the other way around?) So you tuck me under your chin as we both wonder how much time we have left before sleep makes us miss each other’s faces - and I love you.

It’s Sunday,
and there’s nothing much to say but
I love you.

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i hate when people ask “who you tryna look good for?!” bitch myself bye

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People who try to pretend Mockingjay was a bad book are weak and will never survive the winter

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oh, god. i love amy schumer.

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Confidence isn’t walking into a room with your nose in the air, and thinking you are better than everyone else, it’s walking into a room and not having to compare yourself to anyone else in the first place.
— (via m-wol)

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Barack Obama has attained a level of sassiness one can only dream of.


Barack Obama has attained a level of sassiness one can only dream of.

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Zuko — Still Awkward 70 Years Later

socially awkward prince