(via whiplashsplash)Source: vickah
If you could make your own house motto and sigil, what would they be?
i think we can all relate to the motto of house bradley-west
I have been waiting for this gif set forever.
my house would be house bradley-west
(via teddyrufusaltman)Source: agenderjolras
Rubbish day at admin job. Get to retail job and am offered cookies by D after mini-rant. Bad day made loads better.
You know, a few months ago this dude friend of mine showed up to hang out with me all dejected. Over a couple of drinks he explained his long face — earlier that night, he’d been walking down the street behind this really cute girl, and when she looked back at him over her shoulder, he thought it was in interest and smiled at her. Now, this guy is tall and skinny, can most commonly be found in glasses and t-shirts scrawled across with math jokes, is kind to animals, considers himself a feminist. What he doesn’t consider himself is threatening, so he was surprised, confused, and even hurt by what happened next: the girl in front of him responding to his called greeting of, “Nice skirt,” by taking off down the darkened street in a dead run.
“Yeah,” I said, “she probably thought you were going to rape her.”
“But that’s not fair,” he said. “I’m a good person; I’d never rape anyone! How could she think that? She doesn’t even know me.”
Out here in the wilds of the internet, I often find myself making arguments about shit like feminism and rape culture unilaterally. For one thing, there’s so much (like, so much) out there arguing unilaterally against this shit that I feel it’s necessary; for another thing, ‘round these parts there’s a lot of people jumping to hostility when it’s painfully clear they don’t have a handle on all the facts. But I’m more lenient with the people in my real life, especially dudes like the one mentioned above. I’m willing to extend to them a patience that I wouldn’t with strangers on the internet, because they matter to me, and it matters to me that they understand. So when my friend sat there that night, whining over his beer and responding to my attempted explanations with, “But I’d love it if a girl smiled at me on the street, or even catcalled at me! Fuck, even if a dude did it, I’d be flattered,” I decided to spend some time thinking about how to clear things up for him. It took awhile, but I finally came up with a metaphor to get the job done:
Consider the bank.
Overheard the best example of parenting at work today. There was a mother and her child routing through one of the clearance bins looking for letters to spell the child’s name.
Mother: Do you know which letters we’re looking for?
Mother: And if we can’t find one of them, it doesn’t matter, such is life.
Yes! Thank you! Bless you for teaching your child that you can’t always get the things you want.
Pick old favourite and newest favourite nail varnish colours to wear together.
Realise after doing so that they are almost you work’s corporate colours.
Slowly, telegraphing his every move, Steve reached out and clasped his hand to Tony’s shoulder. After waiting a bit, during which time Tony just looked curiously at him (but still guarded, too guarded), Steve moved his hand: slid it across Tony’s collarbone, cupped his jaw with it. Tony’s eyes widened with every inch Steve’s hand moved over his body.
“Gonna tell me what’s going on in that head of yours, Tony?”
“You really don’t want to know,” Tony breathed.
“Worried it might upset my delicate, nineteen-forties sensibilities?”
Tony snorted. His eyes dropped to the ground, then flickered back up. “Now that you mention it…”
my gift for everybodyilovedies. a little section from one of her fics WHICH YOU SHOULD GO READ. FLY SHOO. i hope it’s okay and happy stevetonyfest!
(via stevetonyfeels)Source: sconee