Margaery Tyrell + tumblr text posts



here’s a tip: if you start dating a depressed person, don’t be surprised if they are still depressed while they are dating you.
they’re not depressed because they’re single, and you are not an all-powerful cure for mental illnesses. just be there for them.




(Source: rexuality)

(Source: allmymetaphors)





No more excuses.

I will forever reblog this

It’s sort of horrifying that we all know what they’re talking about without them really saying it.. that it’s become that much of a norm in our society that we just know.

(Source: meryylstreep)

(Source: iliketogif-it)

I want your Monday morning
sleep soaked eyes
dream drenched voice,
lazy bones
‘five more minutes please babe.’

I want your Tuesday afternoon
coffee break,
glasses off, laughter on
‘just hold me for a while
it’s been a hard day.’

I want your Wednesday evening
fingers through hair
teeth nibbling nails
neck craning, eye glazing
‘this paperwork never ends’

I want your Thursday night
drinks for two
bones unbind
muscles let loose
flats, slacks,
‘just me and you’

I want your finally Friday
stretch soul smile,
sun sipping light
from the glaciers in your eyes
fingers unfurl, hand extends
‘c’mon babe, lets go wild’

I want your weekend.
your movie marathon Saturday
reading by the fireplace
kissing in the blankets
want your Sunday morning
orange juice and pancakes
white sheets, tender skin
hair like the Fourth of July
‘let’s not get out of bed today.’

I want your ordinary
and your stress, rest, release
I want your bad day and that terrible night
I want you drunk in my arms
forgetting the place but never my name
I want your lazy and your lonely
and your fist full of fight
I want you everyday
in every way
for the rest of my life.


Fundamental Rights // $28
“I once
Had a friend
That couldn’t fathom
I would proclaim,
“Men are so
With a hardened
Heart and
A clenched jaw.
He asked me
To give
Some examples;
And I poured
With corrupted tales
Of a woman’s crusade
To even
Control her own
I surged with
The truth that
All of the rosy-cheeked
Little girls
With their matted hair,
Dirtied tennis
Shoes and
Thirsty hearts,
Living in
The simplest meaning
Of the word,
Are born under
A glass ceiling that
Eventually crushed
Their backs,
Broke their
And took the
Childish gleam from
Their eyes.
I teemed with
The staggering
Numbers of women
That have endured
Rape and unspeakable
Trauma that
Are blamed for
The actions of their
Rapist in a court of law,
Because men
Are entitled to your
Body if your
Wardrobe warrants or
If you’ve had a little
Bit too much
That night.
I searched for some
Type of understanding
In him, maybe even
A hint of blind compassion
But instead I was
Slapped with
A jaded utterance
Of “not
All men are to
There it was.
No amount of
Gut-wrenching tales
Of citing the plight
Of women our
Entire lives
Could compare to
Their need
To make our life-long affliction
About themselves.
No fragment of our
Beings belongs to
Us anymore, not even
Our own bloody discord,
Maybe it
Never did.
Screams of injustice are
Always chalked
up to
Exaggeration because
Men have more
Important things to
Concern themselves with.
Because in the end,
The blame is the only thing
They’re worried about.
I couldn’t help
But laugh
At the thought
“How can anyone
Say men are
brianna carrasco, ”through the looking glass ceiling” (via youwillunderstand)

GLAMOUR: On Brooklyn Nine-Nine, you play a cop. Tell us three things you’d make illegal.
ANDY: Talking on a cell phone while in a public bathroom stall. Stopping conversations to show people pictures of your dog. And farting on airplanes. That’s essentially taking someone’s nose hostage. Promise me this article won’t be all about farts! I want to stay a little glamorous. (x)

(Source: winchesterboysss)

(Source: christophtango)


the american education system

(Source: badgrampa)