the more ghibli films i watch the more i’m convinced hayao miyazaki is the only man alive who understands what love is
no one will ever really Get™ true love and romance like the people who make studio ghibli films do
Good. Omens.
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@ldybluerse
the more ghibli films i watch the more i’m convinced hayao miyazaki is the only man alive who understands what love is
no one will ever really Get™ true love and romance like the people who make studio ghibli films do
Good. Omens.
How could you ever be broken?
but then again, its kind like putting a meat suit on and telling a shark not to eat you
We (men) are not fucking sharks!
We are not rabid animals living off of pure instinct
We are capable of rational thinking and understanding.
Just because someone is cooking food doesn’t mean you’re entitled to eat it.
Just because a banker is counting money doesn’t mean you’re being given free money.
Just because a person is naked doesn’t mean you’re entitled to fuck them.
You are not entitled to someone else’s body just because it’s exposed.
What is so fucking difficult about this concept?
How can you not reblog something like this
As a man I’m real fucking tired of the idea that I have no impulse control. We all have it, some of you jackasses just think you’re above it.
If anyone is offended by generalizations of men, don’t blame feminists. Blame the gross men who pretend that all men are gross just to make themselves look less gross in comparison.
Also, if you honestly believe that modest clothing will help, try wearing a meat suit but covering it with modest clothing.
You’ll still get eaten, because a predator who sees you as a piece of meat won’t care what clothing you’re wearing.
I mean there was a time when women wore clothing that took at least a half hour to get into and sometimes it took assistance... and they still got raped.
There are also societies that exist today, where women are naked all the time and they don’t get raped more frequently than women who are dressed.
Its almost like rapist don’t care about the amount of clothing there is or isn’t....
Got this talk as an education major too. If you’re going into public service you serve all of the public.
If you’re going into public service you serve all of the public.
I’m going into Social Work and had a similar conversation with my therapist.
Therapist; you do know you will be working with Republicans, right?
Me: I knooowwww... I know how to behave. Just because I don’t like their lifestyle doesn’t mean I’m going to treat them like shit.
I’d laugh harder but this is uncomfortably accurate.
Stop calling me out Tumblr
in addition to the fact that people just have different natural rhythms, a big reason why we can’t seem to go to bed as early as we “should” is that nighttime is, for many of us, our safest and most fulfilling time of day. we don’t have to work, we won’t be contacted by bosses or insurance companies or collection agencies or other suffocating life business… we’re likely only to be contacted by our friends, or by no one at all. night time is release; it’s ours. we can rest or recreate. we can do things we actually want to do. who would choose to cut that short?? just to usher in the next morning when our lives are not our own again? nighttime is precious and nothing could be more normal than the desire to embrace this
So, y’all remember that post that said animals in urban areas slowly became nocturnal to avoid encounters with humans? Apparently that includes humans.
...humans are animals. We’re a social animal, a pack creature. Which means we only want to deal with our pack and not random outsiders like capitalism forces us to do.
Teachers should let kids eat and drink in class, I have no idea why high school teachers act like tiny dictators of their pathetic kingdoms. Like, let them go to the bathroom, if they are hungry let them eat, if they are thirsty let them drink.
It shouldn’t really be so difficult.
Anyway, children are people, so maybe stop adding onto this post trying to justify why it is ok to treat them and train like animals in a 1920’s zoo.
As a teacher, the reason kids at my school (high school in Australia) aren’t allowed to eat and drink in class is because:
1. They leave food scraps and wrappers all over the desks and floor and refuse to clean it up
2. They throw food
3. They spend half the lesson sharing around gum/lollies/drinks instead of doing the work
If they’re allowed to eat and drink, it makes teaching 50% more difficult to do. There’s a reason they have recess and lunch breaks
Cool, I’m from Australia.
If they refuse to clean it up then they can’t eat in class and enjoy detention. Same goes for 2. The same things that would happen when students blatantly and purposefully flouted any other set of rules.
3 is not a real thing, like, it might happen in the rare occasion kids have lollies in class because they have to be covert about it and because it is so rare. If being able to eat whenever you wanted was a granted they wouldn’t be smuggling contraband around the class.
There was always gum under my fucking table because we weren’t supposed to eat it so people would just put it under the desk.
Had a teacher who said he only cared about gum being put under the desk and so if we chewed gum then just put it in the bin and he didn’t care.
There stopped being gum shoved under the table by his students.
I don’t know how teachers have not figured out how resentful students clearly are in high school and how much better they respond to mutual respect. Students would go to war for teachers that showed them respect and even students deemed as “troubled” would give so much more effort, time and respect to a teacher who approached them on equal footing.
Hi. Former high school math teacher (in the USA) here.
The only reason my students couldn’t eat in the classroom was because we had mice and couldn’t guarantee the sanitary conditions of anything in the classroom. I was open with my students about it. One young woman started carrying a roll of butcher paper in her backpack. She’d cover her table and snack while her team worked. End of class, she gathered up the butcher paper and brought it to me to cut it into pieces for scrap paper. Any food-stained paper was trimmed into the trash. Sanitary, no leftover mess, and by the end of the year we had stacks of scratch paper. None of the other kids objected to her team being able to eat; if they wanted to snack they moved their chair over there or asked her for some paper for their table. HER rule was that if you came to her table for snacks you had better also be ready to work.
Best behaved class I ever had, and one student who could only get food at school was often brought extra containers of food in those little cheap ziploc containers and given it in my classroom.
This was a remedial math class, by the way. Every student in there was “difficult.”
Seriously “You can eat in class, but if you don’t clean up after yourself, you won’t be allowed to” is not a difficult concept, and it’s better than punishing everyone for something they MIGHT do.
I had two vastly different experiences with teachers I want to point out; one I was doing something I shouldn’t and the other I was doing something that should be cool.
The first teacher was my U.S. History teacher, for the first two or three weeks of class he would wake me up, because I was sitting in the back of the class and sleeping (this is the example of what I shouldn’t be doing) but since I always answered his questions correctly (I read the assigned reading) and turned in my homework assignments, he started leaving me alone to just sleep. Actually about a week after he stopped bugging me, I happened to be wide awake and bushy tailed. He told me to put my hand down, go back to sleep because no one else would answer with me doing all the work. I was an A+ student in that class.
Contrast that with an elective course that was something to do with preparing for the future (balancing check books, sewing, how to do laundry, basically home economics and college prep in one). Here I am, over achiever (I was bored and it wasn’t hard work) I have my work book completed, I have read the course book, besides random assignments I can’t do because we haven’t been given them yet... I’m done with my homework and it’s probably halfway through the semester. We were having time to do our course work in class, but I’m done. So what am I doing? Sleeping? Nope. Talking to other students? Nope. Not being a distraction in the least. I’m reading a mother fucking book. I am silently reading a fictional book.
My teacher tells me I need to put it away and do the work. Told her I was done. She said I can just keep working my through the workbook. Told her I did that too. She said that I needed to sit quietly then. I said I was just reading, not like I was being disruptive. No. I had to put my book away now. Thankfully, I was older and a lot more mouthy at this point because I said no and if she had a problem she can call my mother, I was fine with that. I knew my mom would go apeshit to be called for a disciplinary reason due to me READING a book because I already finished all my course work.
I also knew the school liaison officer (we took martial arts together with another police officer from the same force) and was cool with the vice principle. So, if she wanted to drag me off, I knew she would have to explain why she was punishing a student for reading in her classroom.
Sad thing is, the history teacher was a younger guy and still relatively new to teaching and the economics teacher had awards for “best teacher” from actual competitions
Emotional Stuff
Feel free to ignore. I will be talking about loss and mention a car accident.
This time of year is hard. So many anniversaries happen in one go for me.
Four years ago on Christmas Day, there was a knock on the door. My brother who lived in Georgia came for a visit. It was the first time in years we spent Christmas together. The eldest brother had moved back from Texas not long before that and my dad was on leave. We were all home. And I wasn’t in a wheelchair from surgery.
We took a picture of the three of us on the couch, it was the first one we had together in a long time. And it would be the last one.
December 26 is the Anniversary of my car accident. Woo, thanks drunk driver. I still have pain to this day from it. It’s been eight years too.
January 15th is my girlfriend’s father’s birthday, she lost him one year before we met... On January 16th. So the 15th is hard for her and this year I think the 16th is going to be hard on me. I’m still in a limbo on what I should do. She’s been making an effort again but I just feel so disconnected. I’m not even happy to see her messages most of the time and even after years I was still excited to talk to her all the time until this past year.
January 24th, four years ago my brother turned 32. His last birthday. He was so excited, he got advanced tickets to see Deadpool on Valentine’s Day. It was probably the Marvel Movie he was most looking forward to.
February 1st he would be declared brain dead. He never got to see Deadpool.
School starts next week. I have orientation later today.
I’ve been in Texas for a year now, I don’t have friends here and it’s been a slow go trying to make friends online.
I have been craving touch and affection but don’t have anywhere to turn, especially as I’m Ace and sex repulsed. This means one-night-stands arent really my thing. Social Anxiety and low self-esteem mean I’m not exactly the type to make random friends and just... lay on them. I tend to be the type that once your my friend I will probably follow you like a puppy until you get sick of me (which most people do).
I don’t have insurance here. I haven’t had a therapist in over a year... I constantly am trying to prove that while I’m not “that disabled” I am “too disabled” for retail work (I cant stand on my feet for two hours much less an eight hour shift), have to do this because I am trying to get Medicare in Texas. Which is a fucking joke.
I keep wondering why I can’t write, because I want to be creative. Why I can’t enjoy things. Why I can’t handle life lately... then I realize I’ve probably run out of spoons and have been stealing plastic ones from restaurants for years. And I probably have more forks in me then I can handle. Probably why 2019 I just... stopped functioning. It was a chore to get out of bed, showers sometimes are more trouble then they are worth to get into but lovely once there. I’m proud I remembered to take my medicine almost daily. There was a period where I couldn’t be bothered to eat this past year too.
It doesn’t help I’ve been under pressure to just be better by people who don’t understand guilt trips and throwing fits don’t make someone better.
The truth is, I was barely making it for a long time already. Twelve surgeries, a history of depression, and life going “here’s a bunch of shit that’s going to cause you deep emotional turmoil”, it’s a wonder I didn’t break sooner I guess...
Haunted houses be like this was an asylum and mentally ill people used be here how fucked up is that
I was always under the impression that abandoned asylums were scary because of the historical mistreatment of patients...
I figured they were haunted because a lot of people died under traumatic circumstances after spending a lot of time being tortured.
Pretty sure they aren’t scary because people inside are mentally ill, but scary because we willingly put vulnerable people (it wasn’t just the mentally ill but also the socially “unacceptable”) into a hell hole with both people who loved to be sadistic pricks, apathetic fuckers tired of their job so being cruel through non-action, and people who thought they were “helping” by fucking people up more.
Watch: A documentary is explaining the many ways movies, TV shows and ads makes fat people feel cursed and invisible
When you only see yourself depicted on the screen as a sidekick, a villain, a predator, or a joke, how does that affect the way you view yourself in real life?
Gifs: Fattitude
WATCH THE PREVIEW
“At the end of the day, fat is portrayed mostly just as a joke,” says Lieberman. “Or a monster,” adds Averill. “That’s the two-sided coin.”
Honestly? This is a problem for all areas of “unattractive” in media. Don’t get me wrong, as a chubby girl and woman, I relate to this. But as an American that was born with too-big-and-too-many teeth with a too-small-mouth-and-jaw it was hard seeing movies where the bad guys (which is a LOT, including in animation) had terrible teeth. Almost all villains have this close up of them smiling evilly at some point and you get this look at their crooked teeth. Sometimes they would be yellow or blackened, maybe missing a few. Sometimes you would see a bug running around their teeth.
I was fixated on teeth for most of my life. I noticed when people had crooked teeth, or gross colored. I know that part was because my own teeth were terrible. I would have nightmares about my teeth falling out (and this was due to my crooked teeth, ever since getting braces four years ago, I haven’t had a nightmare that involves losing teeth). I had no confidence in my smile, I would cover my mouth if I was laughing too much and my teeth may show. For those with different cultural norms with smiles, big open-mouthed smiles in the United States is considered “friendly”, “open”, “good”. If you don’t smile with teeth showing people will often view it as “lack of confidence” or “hiding something”. This makes a tall (I’m 5’9”, but most of my clients as a Massage Therapist were women and most of them were shorter than me), kinda-chubby, and not exactly good looking female seem intimidating.
Because American media also do that; make ugly people the villains or jokes. People who are “okay” looking are sidekicks and background characters.
I do want to point out I am talking about my experiences with United States media and not others. One of things I love most about British television is a lot of their actors look like normal people. Granted, they are good looking average people, but they aren’t Hollywood perfect
canon: they died
fanfic: fUCK YOU
Canon: and so they never met
Fanfic: here’s a funny story
Canon: There was tension and pining, but they never even kissed.
Fanfic: Actually,
Canon: Torture the cinnamon roll.
Fanfic: Torture the cinnamon roll.
Canon: When they traveled they stayed in separate rooms
Fanfic: AND. THERE. WAS. ONLY. ONE. BED!!!!!
Canon: … and they were roommates.
Fanfic: oh my god, they were roommates…
Canon: They were international assassins who assassinated assassins.
Fanfic: But hot DAMN wait till you hear about this cafe they opened
Canon: They had a coffeeshop
Fanfic: but they were ASSASSINS
Canon: they were mortal enemies and attempted to murder each other on multiple occasions
Fanfic: bUT THEY GOT MARRIED AND ADOPTED CHILDREN
Everytime I reblog this has a new addition and it’s the best
Canon: They were straight
Fanfic: Lol
THE LAST ONE IS THE BEST ONE
I love fanfic so so so much.
Canon: Am I joke to you?
Fanon: No, just a disappointment.
The Cottage in South Downs is Bigger on the Inside
Okay, I really like decorating my house in LoveNikki Dressup Queen. I basically turned the first room into an indoor garden after I accumulated a lot of plants. Recently I realized I had the beginning of Crowley’s flat. Which turned into Aziraphale and Crowley’s cottage.
Just to clarify, I only arranged the pixels about to get this room, I did not draw this in any way.
Also... I was limited. LoveNikki doesn’t have enough bookcase options in it to begin with, much less enough variety to make this more interesting. And doesn’t have many books lying on the floor items... so I did what I could.
Happy New Year from our darling husbands :)
They are too sweet and cute!
Three for Three....
*finishes a roll of wrapping paper* oh shit free weapon
*bonks myself in the head* *bonks myself in the head* *bonks myself in the head* *bonks myself in the head* *bonks myself in the head* *bo
*bonks loved ones who dare to get too close* *bonks dog on bum* *bonks myself in the head* *lose tube to doggy guardian who is cool with butt swatting but not hitting their person with a CLEARLY DEADLY WEAPON*
Bye Whack-a-Doodle...
A good thread on whether “queer” is a slur and if it should be used or not.
“If I am unashamed of being queer, you do not get to give that word BACK to the fuckwits who made it a slur.”
you do not get to give that word BACK to the fuckwits who made it a slur
EVERYBODY WHO CAME OUT BEFORE YOU HAS TAKEN THE ROCKS AND BOTTLES AND MADE THEM INTO SHIELDS AND WINDCHIMES
Holy motherfucking shit. Don’t fucking come at me about Queer is a slur. I FUCKING KNOW IT IS. It was hurled at me like a fucking spear all through my youth. I know it’s a god damn slur. And it’s mine. You don’t get to take it away from me because you can’t take also away the scars it gave me while I was standing in front of my younger queer siblings in this community.
always, always reblog this one.
If my enemy swings a sword at me and I take that sword away from them, it’s my sword now. And the person telling me I can’t use it because it belongs to my enemy and I have to give it back to them sounds quite a bit like an enemy themselves.
^^ god that analogy
@deadcatwithaflamethrower
Yesssssssssss.
This came around again, but it’s worth sharing and remembering. You have the right to only accept certain words be used to describe you, but so does everyone else.
I have this bookmarked to through at people who DM me about using the word Queer.
If my enemy swings a sword at me and I take that sword away from them, it’s my sword now. And the person telling me I can’t use it because it belongs to my enemy and I have to give it back to them sounds quite a bit like an enemy themselves.
I’m here, I’m Queer! And I fully support queering many things.
“Let me be crystal clear: if you’ve faced a tragedy and someone tells you in any way, shape or form that your tragedy was meant to be, that it happened for a reason, that it will make you a better person, or that taking responsibility for it will fix it, you have every right to remove them from your life. Grief is brutally painful. Grief does not only occur when someone dies. When relationships fall apart, you grieve. When opportunities are shattered, you grieve. When dreams die, you grieve. When illnesses wreck you, you grieve. So I’m going to repeat a few words I’ve uttered countless times; words so powerful and honest they tear at the hubris of every jackass who participates in the debasing of the grieving: Some things in life cannot be fixed. They can only be carried.”
— Everything Doesn’t Happen For A Reason — Tim Lawrence