hahahaha good job
This is how we know cats are sent from heaven
This is how we know that whatever trouble cats cause is deliberate

Janaina Medeiros
ojovivo
wallacepolsom
Mike Driver

roma★
Keni
RMH
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

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Jules of Nature

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$LAYYYTER

pixel skylines
Sweet Seals For You, Always
Today's Document
occasionally subtle
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
Sade Olutola
Show & Tell
d e v o n

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@lilprincessgigi
hahahaha good job
This is how we know cats are sent from heaven
This is how we know that whatever trouble cats cause is deliberate
CUTENESS OVERLOAD. [source]
*doesn’t show affection* oh no, I’m making things awkward!!
*shows affection* oh no, I’m making things awkward!!
*doesn’t show affection* oh no, I’m being distant and cold!!
*shows affection* oh no, I’m being clingy and overbearing!!
To everyone who tries shaming people with “y’all are too busy with [insert frivoulous fad here] to care about [insert important world issue here]”
It’s not healthy to only think about the negative.
This thread is important and I’m pissed that it’s necessary but there are a lot of sick people out there and I want as many women and girls to be protected as possible. Please spread this around so more women can know what to do while in a highly dangerous situation.
there’s also this
On carrying and using knives: don’t show your blade until you stick your attacker with it. This is a mistake a lot of ppl do; don’t brandish it bc you could be disarmed and the attacker could get it from you. Close distance and stab in one quick motion, go for the throat, stomach, groin etc. It is better to go for the kill, better them than you
“Those poor boys”
“She deserves to be punished too.”
“I’m not saying I support rape, but-”
“Sorry to say - she deserved it.”
“She put herself in harm’s way”
“But if she was fingered, then that’s not rape.”
“She ruined their lives.”
“Well she didn’t exactly say ‘no’..”
“Yea, but did you see what she was wearing?”
“Boys will be boys!”
“She should know better than to drink at a party…”
Cannot not reblog.
“She should have tried to enjoy–”
“She’s just saying something now for atten-“
boy am i glad this has so many notes
“But he’s a dude. That’s not ra-”
“He should’ve enjoyed it.”
“She must’ve lead him on.”
“But she orgasmed. That means she liked it - “
“She’s slept with so many people! She’s a slut-“
“Get over it, at least you’re still a virgin”
“Women can’t rape because…”
“Be grateful it wasn’t a man!”
“I’m sorry she hurt you but don’t call what happened to you rape, it’s an insult to the REAL victims…”
“You weren’t raped, you’re just lesbophobic.”
“She shouldn’t have posted provocative photos!”
“She shouldn’t have been dressed like that … she was asking for it!”
“It’s the woman’s responsibility to not put herself in dangerous situations, she should have been more aware.”
reblogging because it’s gotten even better since last time
I love this post!
“Well he paid for dinner, she kind of owed him.”
“She’s his wife, it’s her job to please him.”
“Oral isn’t rape.”
“Well he wasn’t armed, she could have walked away.”
“Guys can’t be raped, they love sex!”
“She didn’t fight back; it wasn’t rape.”
A good post
the day I do not reblog this is the day I’m buried six feet under
I tried to explain to a friend of mine who has never ever been poor in his life why it is that poverty is a cycle, and why it’s so difficult to escape poverty.
His response was, “just save money”. I kept trying to explain that when you are living paycheck to paycheck, there really is no saving money because most of your income is being spent on basic needs: food, shelter, clothing, transportation.
So, then he responded, “well, why can’t you just save $5 every week”. Well, a lot of poor people do try to save. I would manage to get a few hundred in my savings account, but then you get a flat tire, or you end up getting sick and missing a week of work, or you have an unexpected bill. And, that few hundred dollars suddenly disappears. I tried to explain to him that when you’re poor, unanticipated expenses can very quickly and easily blow through what little you have in your savings account and put you back at square one.
I also tried to explain that when you are that poor, you need to make purchases while you have the money. Like, if I needed a new pair of jeans and I had an extra $30 that week, I would buy myself a new pair of jeans that week because I didn’t know when I would have an extra $20 or $30 to spend. So, he countered that with, “You don’t need to buy clothes. You could have put that $30 in your savings.”
To which I responded, “Well, if it were socially acceptable to walk around without pants on, then maybe poor people could climb out of poverty, but until then, when your jeans have holes in them, or don’t fit you anymore, you need to get some new ones.”
Then it kind of clicked for him.. a little.
So, I went on to talk about the sociological aspects of poverty, like how growing up poor, or growing up as part of a marginalized demographic pushes your starting block 100 feet behind your peers.. how our educational systems are set up to fail impoverished children. The light bulb flickered, but never fully turned on.
And, then he said, “I still can’t believe you were ever on food stamps.”
Yes, my friend, poverty and I get a nice little reunion every few years. I know it intimately, which is why you should sit back, relax, and just listen.
I never understood how it was so difficult to see the realities of poverty. To me, it is sort of common sense. And, what is irksome is that poverty doesn’t always present itself as an old beat up car, and falling apart sneakers. People who grow up middle class and financially secure seem to think that poverty looks a lot like dirty children with dirty clothes, and no shoes. But, it doesn’t. It can be that, but it’s often not.
I grew up in a nice house in the suburbs, but we were poor. We were very poor for a long time, in part due to my medical issues. People assume that because we went to Catholic school, and had a nice house that we were well-off. We weren’t. My mother worked 2-3 jobs, and my parents took out loans to pay for our school tuition. My mother’s parents helped pay for some of our education, even though they were also incredibly poor. My parents sometimes struggled to put food on the table.
I never had clothes that were dirty or falling apart, but most of my clothes and shoes were hand-me-downs from my older cousins. In fact, a lot of my toys were, too.
Both of my parents grew up in poverty. My father, especially, grew up in complete and abject poverty. Their parents grew up in poverty, and so did their parents. My parents made immense sacrifices to set us up for financial success, but life always finds a way to intervene.
Personally, my health issues have been the driving factor behind my own financial issues. I have amassed thousands of dollars in medical debt. I work a job that doesn’t use my degree at all because I can work part time and still get benefits, and because I know I won’t get fired if I need to take extended absences due to my health.
So, when you say, “I still can’t believe you were ever on food stamps,” you are really saying, “I have this picture in my head of what poverty looks like, and you don’t fit that image.”
That idea we have about what poverty is supposed to look like is a big reason why people in the middle class are so content with cutting safety net programs, even though they are one medical problem, one car accident, or one lay-off away from complete financial ruin. What does poverty look like, then. How do you “just save money”, then.
poverty in the developed world doesn’t look like a refugee child with flies on their face.
it looks like a normal person in normal clothes, in a normal apartment, with their bills spread out on the kitchen table, crying.
happy pride to everyone who can’t make it to a pride event
🌈 happy pride to closeted people
🌈 happy pride to people living in rural areas where there’s no pride event around for miles
🌈 happy pride to poor people who can’t afford to go to a pride event
🌈 happy pride to working people who can’t afford to take even a day off
🌈 happy pride to minors who don’t have parents or other adults willing to take them to pride
🌈 happy pride to disabled people who aren’t going to any pride events because you don’t know if they’re going to be accessible or not
🌈 happy pride to people with chronic pain who don’t feel up to going to any pride events
🌈 happy pride to people with chronic illnesses who are too sick to go to pride events
🌈 happy pride to neurodivergent and mentally ill people who can’t handle being at events with large crowds and loud noises
happy pride to everyone who can’t make it to a pride event no matter why that is! hopefully you can still do something yourself at home, either alone or with some friends. you don’t have to go to a huge pride parade in order to be proud of who you are or to have a good time! 🌈💖
If you are scrolling through Tumblr trying to distract yourself from something you don’t want to think about, or you’re looking for a sign. It is going to be okay. Just breathe. You are alive and you matter.
i reblog this everytime i see it because i always need it and figure others do toom
Rainbow of positivity
#PrideMonth
if you dont have me on facebook you are probably not missing out on any posts but the comment section is important too lmao
I went to the Renaissance faire dressed as a warrior. I had a real sword with me, too. I was standing (in character) next to a sword-fighting ring, where kids of all ages got the chance to pick up a sword and challenge the champion. Some woman walks by, with her little girl. The girl starts walking towards the ring, saying she wants to fight. But the mom pulled her away hella sharply, and was like, “That’s for boys.” You don’t want to be a BOY, do you?” And the girl looked around and saw me. I think she thought I was a boy; I had my hair in a ponytail, and was wearing a hood. So she comes up to me and asks me, “Do you think girls can be fighters, too?” And her mom looks like she’s silently gloating. Like she thinks I’m going to say no. So I take off my hood, untie my hair so that it flows freely, and kneel before her. And I’m like, “Milady, anyone can be a fighter.” I swear, the look on that mother’s face made my day.
This post was good but then it got better
Okay, this is a slight topic diversion, but in response to the above comment. I’ve volunteered at the CT Ren Faire for years now. For the last 5 or so I’ve worked in the game section, and we have a game similar to the above comment called “Smite the Knight”. I’ve been in the ring before, it’s a ton of fun getting to run around with the kids. The main goal is entertainment. Have a good shtick, keep the crowd engaged, and let the kids have a good time.
In both work and observing, I have learned something about kids. A lot of parents try to get their boys to go fight. Of the young ones that do, they tend to be shy. You get the ones who just swing the boffer swords around with no regard for life, but, mostly, they’re reserved. It’s adorable. I mean, they’re kids.
But the girls. THE GIRLS. Holy crap. I swear, the pinker the dress, the more taffeta and glitter…the more intensity. I remember, the first year I worked there, one girl came in, grabbed the biggest sword she could, and WENT TO TOWN on our knight. Lifted it over head, let out this primal scream and mowed him down. Homeboy is 6′2″, she was FIVE. And once he was in the fetal position (He was fine. It was for show.) on the ground, she stopped, put her foot on his chest, and yelled “I AM A FIERCE PRINCESS!!”. Later in the day when she walked by a couple of us yelled “Ah! It’s the fierce princess!” and she stopped and flexed. It was the best, and I will never forget that girl.
OH MY GOD IT’S BACK YES
This has improved since last I reblogged.
I taught karate for like 5 years, and the girls were always, pound for pound, better than the boys. Even the girls who didn’t really want to do it and were only there because their parents made them were better than like 95% of the boys.
I was playing fiddle at a ren faire, and two little girls were really enjoying our set. After quite some time one of them walked up to me and shyly offered me her star tinsel tiara, because she “didn’t have any money. And this protects you from trolls!” I said “Thanks, that’s really sweet – but what about you? Don’t you need protection from trolls?”
At which point this six-ish-year-old girl whips out her certificate from the axe throwing booth and says “Nah, I’m fine.”
I still have that tinsel tiara. It’s draped over my modem. I figure it’ll protect me from the most trolls that way.
I am not in the habit of reblogging a post and slapping an “it got better” on there BUT I SAY GOTDAMN
Cat By IG: @Yoremahm Instagram: @artwoonz
#2 & 6: SELFIE!!!!!!
The amount of cuddling I desire is infinite
When sunlight hits brown eyes >>>
When sunlight hits brown skin >>>
When sunlight hits brown hair >>>
“But if you forget to reblog Madame Zeroni, you and your family will be cursed for always and eternity.”
not even risking that shit
scrolled past this, re-evaluated my life, then SCROOOLLLED back up and hit the damn reblog button.
She ain’t no games in real life so I take her serious all the time
Anyone with a name that starts with a “Z”, ends with an “i”, and isn’t some kind of Italian pasta, IS SERIOUS
I’m not climbing no mountain with a pig on my back, 🙅🏽🙅🏾🙅🏿 Negative.
Nope. I know better, have your reblog Madame Zeroni.
who the fuck is Madame Zeroni
Look at these stupid children who don’t know who Madame Zeroni is
i really fcking hate whoever first made this post! like seriously… im tired of coming across it 😤 ima always hit reblog tho cuz fck that
This the first post I seen reach 2 mill, imma still reblog tho, sry not sry
I’ve really been reblogging this for like 7 years lmao.
K but black girls fine as fuck..
napping together is my kind of date