Norman Reedus + cigarette


Hear Me Roar

Remember when you left Gotham? Before all this, before Batman? You were gone seven years. Seven years I waited, hoping that you wouldn’t come back. Every year, I took a holiday. I went to Florence, there’s this cafe, on the banks of the Arno. Every fine evening, I’d sit there and order a Fernet Branca. I had this fantasy, that I would look across the tables and I’d see you there, with a wife and maybe a couple of kids. You wouldn’t say anything to me, nor me to you. But we’d both know that you’d made it, that you were happy. I never wanted you to come back to Gotham. I always knew there was nothing here for you, except pain and tragedy. And I wanted something more for you than that. I still do.


What it’s like to be a senior in college.


What it’s like to be a senior in college.


Possibly the most British moment in any film ever

Just an experiment. Reblog if you actually give a fuck about male victims of domestic violence and rape.




This lack of notes is disturbing.

They are just as important. Equal rights, equal treatment.

“It’s ok to objectify guys, they’re guys, they don’t care.”

“Guys can’t get raped, they never don’t want sex.”

“Men should be the ones to do the asking.”

“Men should always pay on a date.”

“It’s okay for me to be sexually attracted to watching two gay men have sex, but not for men to be attracted to lesbians.”

“It’s impossible for men to be victims of domestic violence, they’re bigger and stronger than women!”

“Sexual predators are always men.”