I hate the way you talk to me, and the way you cut your hair. I hate the way you drive my car. I hate it when you stare. I hate your big dumb combat boots, and the way you read my mind. I hate you so much it makes me sick; it even makes me rhyme. I hate it, I hate the way you’re always right. I hate it when you lie. I hate it when you make me laugh, even worse when you make me cry. I hate it when you’re not around, and the fact that you didn’t call. But mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you. Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all. // 10 Things I Hate About You (1999)
My great-great-grandmother’s portrait hung in the university up until the Revolution. By then, the truth of their romance had been reduced to a simple fairy tale. And, while Cinderella and her prince did live happily ever after, the point, gentlemen, is that they lived.
Rachel Morrison (the Oscar-winning cinematographer who worked on Black Panther) has a Lesbian Power Level that cannot be measured with traditional instruments
and in case you think I’m setting myself up for disappointment
not to be a gay ass femme but can we please acknowledge her jawline
shesaheroyousee 