Mutuals, do any of you have that "what white haired anime boy are you" quiz?
I found it, I'm not the op but here u go

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@juliaisdreamingg
Mutuals, do any of you have that "what white haired anime boy are you" quiz?
I found it, I'm not the op but here u go
DAAaHRLINg,
I’m on the
HIGGHwAAAAy
route 8
…inbridgeport
The nativity scene at Claremont United Methodist church
the plaque:
Hey y’all in case you don’t know there’s going to be a YouTube walkout happening from December 10th-13th in response to the new terms and agreements YouTube put in place. According to the new terms they’re allowed to delete channels if they don’t meet community guild lines, which historically for them has included LGBT related channels and content.
Many creators are not posting during this walkout and is asking for people not to use YouTube unless it’s related to the UK election (if you live the UK and still want to participate in the walkout but need to use YouTube to stay on top of election info I think there’s a UK one from the 13th-16th too!)
Anyway fuck those new terms and I’m gonna be deleting my YouTube app on my phone until the 16th.
[Image description: white text on a (mostly) black field: Join the YouTube WalkOut December 10th to December 13th 2019; the phrase “YouTube WalkOut” is inside a red square like the YouTube logo. Description Ends]
Reblogging for the additional info on the alternative dates for people in the UK. Good luck Storming the Castle, I mean: With the Election!
Oh, heck! Go ahead and storm the castle, too, if you’re up for it!
the last two weeks of the semester every single person looks like this as they walk by
Once a little boy went to school. One morning The teacher said: “Today we are going to make a picture.” “Good!” thought the little boy. He liked to make all kinds; Lions and tigers, Chickens and cows, Trains and boats; And he took out his box of crayons And began to draw.
But the teacher said, “Wait!” “It is not time to begin!” And she waited until everyone looked ready. “Now,” said the teacher, “We are going to make flowers.” “Good!” thought the little boy, He liked to make beautiful ones With his pink and orange and blue crayons. But the teacher said “Wait!” “And I will show you how.” And it was red, with a green stem. “There,” said the teacher, “Now you may begin.”
The little boy looked at his teacher’s flower Then he looked at his own flower. He liked his flower better than the teacher’s But he did not say this. He just turned his paper over, And made a flower like the teacher’s. It was red, with a green stem.
On another day The teacher said: “Today we are going to make something with clay.” “Good!” thought the little boy; He liked clay. He could make all kinds of things with clay: Snakes and snowmen, Elephants and mice, Cars and trucks And he began to pull and pinch His ball of clay.
But the teacher said, “Wait!” “It is not time to begin!” And she waited until everyone looked ready. “Now,” said the teacher, “We are going to make a dish.” “Good!” thought the little boy, He liked to make dishes. And he began to make some That were all shapes and sizes.
But the teacher said “Wait!” “And I will show you how.” And she showed everyone how to make One deep dish. “There,” said the teacher, “Now you may begin.”
The little boy looked at the teacher’s dish; Then he looked at his own. He liked his better than the teacher’s But he did not say this. He just rolled his clay into a big ball again And made a dish like the teacher’s. It was a deep dish.
And pretty soon The little boy learned to wait, And to watch And to make things just like the teacher. And pretty soon He didn’t make things of his own anymore.
Then it happened That the little boy and his family Moved to another house, In another city, And the little boy Had to go to another school.
The teacher said: “Today we are going to make a picture.” “Good!” thought the little boy. And he waited for the teacher To tell what to do. But the teacher didn’t say anything. She just walked around the room.
When she came to the little boy She asked, “Don’t you want to make a picture?” “Yes,” said the little boy. “What are we going to make?” “I don’t know until you make it,” said the teacher. “How shall I make it?” asked the little boy. “Why, anyway you like,” said the teacher. “And any color?” asked the little boy. “Any color,” said the teacher. And he began to make a red flower with a green stem.
~Helen Buckley, The Little Boy
I hate that I hesitated to reblog this just because I expect people to think it’s pretentious or melodramatic when it’s seriously real as fuck and I’ve witnessed it
This is what happened to me. I was young, first grade.
All the other kids have one teacher, while I had two, though I was in the same class. I took recess by myself. When the other’s took recess, I was constantly quizzed by my second teacher and shown how to color properly because ‘You don’t want your pictures to look like theirs, do you?’ I just wanted to color.
When I was allowed to participate with the rest of the class, I felt odd. “How fast does the earth move?” The main teacher asked. “100 miles an hour!” “One bajillion miles a hour!” I raised my hand. “Yes?” I swallowed and smiled. “I think it’s closer to 100,000 kilometers per hour.” I didn’t guess, I stated a fact. I was happy. And proud. Because I knew the answer. But somehow, when the teacher said ‘That’s correct’, it was with a large amount of disappointment and odd looks from the other kids. What had I done wrong? I didn’t answer questions anymore.
When I was in the class with my second teacher, we did reading flash cards. “What does this say?” “Government.” She frowned. “And just how do you know that?” I answered as simply as I could. “It doesn’t sound like it’s spelled. It has ‘Govern’ like the governor, and it has ‘ment’ that rhymes vent which is what’s above us! Government!” “That’s not how you learn words, you need to remember how to spell them. Try the next one.” Why did it matter? I remembered and could read it. So I had to learn the ‘correct’ way to spell and read.
So on and so on until 5th grade, when I was falling behind all the other students and was told to try harder and pay attention. ‘Show your work or it counts against you.’ But I didn’t have any work to show… 45 X 3 just is 135. What work was I supposed to show when something was a fact? So I had to relearn math so my teacher didn’t flunk me out.
This has followed me into adulthood. “Think outside the box.” I can’t. There is a small area outside the box I am allowed and no further. That is what I have been taught. When someone wants something from you in this way, they want to know where it came from and for it to match their ideals… not something they can’t understand or want to consider. And there is always a right answer, even if you are just coming up with ideas.
“Do you have any ideas on this matter?” My boss asks. I shrug. “It’s not something for me weigh in on, that’s beyond my area.”
You broke me. You broke thousands of kids who could have been the new Tesla, Curie, or Einstein. And you wonder why new ideas aren’t new? Because you told us, at a very early age, that a new idea must already conform to what you understand and are comfortable with.
Let’s think about how much more advanced we would be as a society if our school systems didn’t break kids.
the crows are calling again
the only glow up that matters
the amount of notes… have none of u bitches been called before
just throw them away then! why is people hoarding stuff that no one wants better. it all has to go somewhere when you die anyway
Wow it’s almost like the problem is our entire commercial fast fashion industry and not Marie Kondo.
Okay so I looked up the article and apparently the problem here is that they can’t sell most of the stuff they get (and thus they send it to the dump) and I’m like… why not just give it to poor people for free then. I doubt a homeless person is gonna care if their extra layer has a button or is in style or not. Or turn them into scrap to sell at a fabric store, or something. There are so many other solutions… this isn’t a problem with Marie Kondo and the people making donations, there’s one with charities being capitalistic first and wanting to help second.
This is why I don’t tell 99% people im bisexual
I love how gay people do it too. Just… really? You’re literally saying the same shit to bisexuals that straight people say to you, and you don’t see the hypocrisy?
If youre biphobic or hate bisexuals, fucking unfollow me, for serious.
If youre biphobic or hate bisexuals, fucking unfollow me, for serious.
Why is this a thing like really? Homosextual people of ALL beings should understand that you like what you like and if the answer multiple choice then that’s just more love to go around non?
BY REBLOGGING THIS YOU ARE SAYING THAT YOUR BLOG IS COMPLETELY ACCEPTING OF BI FOLKS!!! BISEXUAL PEOPLE ARE PART OF THE LGBT+ COMMUNITY AND IF YOU DISAGREE, PLEASE UNFOLLOW ME
support 👏 or 👏 die 👏
YIKES.
What happened to supporting each other?
just an unfriendly reminder that i’m bi and if y’all are biphobic you can fuck right off
if you don’t respect the bi then you can leave bye
The funny thing to me about the whole “oh one day you’ll miss vagina and leave”argument is like…okay so you’re basically admitting that the only thing of value you’re bringing to the relationship is your dick then? Good to know.
I’m bi. If you’re biphobic just go. The door bitch. It’s in the corner.
Most of my friends are bi. You can fuck right off of you are biphobic. No one can insult my friends on my watch. Fuck biphobes.
I. Am. BI. biphobes jump off of a ledge and leave.
Good Omens described badly: a bookshop owner and a vintage car enthusiast play hot potato over the responsibility of killing an 11 year old
@silhouettecrow
Brushes you with an egg white wash so you'll develop a nice glaze in the oven
hey thanks
Katara: I've done as much as I can for the lightning wound, but it's gonna leave a scar, sorry Zuko
Zuko: eh, what's another scar from a family member amirite lmao
Sokka: ...what?
Zuko: the scar on my eye? did I never tell you guys my father did that?
[Later in Ozai's cell]
#zuko: [casually reveals major trauma caused by family members]
#the gaang: '..... life changing field trip time'
#the gaang: 'it's to ozai's cell and we're all bringing knives'
Aang: I utterly refuse to kill the Fire Lord, no matter how bad he is.
Katara: He’s the one who scarred Zuko’s face.
Aang: *Pulls out gun and cocks it* Alright lets fucking do this.
Had to reblog this one too
the raw power of imagining Aang holding a gun is too much for me the boy knows he can outdo a gun in power but he’s so mad that he makes the statement with the weapon that killed world leaders
I’m intimidated
The only acceptable icing is buttercream. Whipped icing is a cowards choice and fondant people are demons and gotta meet me in the street for their poor life choices that led them to accept Play-Doh as acceptable cake decoration
turn on ya location and we can talk
Hope you understand sign language then cause all you’re gonna be seeing is hands