Petunia Dursley: I have lived in this house for twenty years, and now in a single night, I’m expected to leave.
Harry Potter: They’ll torture you. If they think for a moment you know where I’m going, they’ll stop at nothing.
Petunia Dursley: You think I don’t know what they’re capable of? You didn’t just lose a mother that night in Godric’s Hollow, you know. I lost a sister.
enthusiastic and sober consent is the only fucking consent get this through your numb fucking skull. someone saying no means FUCK NO and if they later ask “YOOoooo bro why’d you stop?” tell them that if they want something then they should SHOUT YES and BE ENTHUSIASTIC and they shouldn’t feed into the cultural complex that women have to say no to keep up the appearance of being ~pure because purity is a fucked up made up concept for when women could be exchanged for sheep based whether or not they bled on a fucking sheet
"I don’t understand bisexuality, I don’t think it exists"
well I don’t understand physics but you don’t see me floating off into space because gravity no longer applies to me
10 am, college town. Two men, one unloading a truck, are talking. Three women pass them. One man says to the other: “Watch out for the women. The pretty women.” I, one of the women, turn around. He is grinning at me.
I say, “Excuse me. I don’t appreciate that. Stop sexually harassing women on the street. My body is not yours to comment on in public.”
I am wearing flats, jeans, a sweater that exposes no cleavage, and a long trench coat. I have wet hair and no make up.
And I just spent the last two hours discussing sexual harassment with my boyfriend, who is writing a research paper on attitudes towards harassment in this college town. Most of the conversation revolved around late night harassment, when people are drunk and wearing going out clothes.
I am fucking sick of this bullshit. I am sick of choosing seats in cafes away from men, of crossing streets in the middle of the day, of wanting to cry after telling these men to stop. And I’m sick of so rarely seeing other men tell men to stop— or at the very least listening to me and other women about our experiences. And I’m sick of being written off as a “shrill feminist” when I become upset about just how often I fear for my safety because of my gender.
And by the way— someone commenting on my body and leering at me is not a “compliment.” Please get that through your heads. Anything that makes me feel scared and like I cannot be safe is not a compliment. Shaking my hand, introducing yourself, and saying, “You look pretty, so I wanted to talk to you” is an acceptable compliment, although women who are clearly on their way to class or work probably don’t want to be bothered.
TOP 20 TV SHIPS (as voted by my followers)
20. Ben and Leslie (Parks and Recreation)
"The things that you have done for me to help me, support me, surprise me, to make me happy, go above and beyond what any person deserves. You’re all I need. I love you and I like you."