KIROKAZE
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ojovivo
Monterey Bay Aquarium

Janaina Medeiros

Love Begins
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

izzy's playlists!

JBB: An Artblog!

if i look back, i am lost

Kaledo Art

blake kathryn
Sade Olutola
Misplaced Lens Cap

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
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todays bird
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
Not today Justin

★
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@megame
I was there the day the strength of tumblr staff failed.
a prayer
Les Félins (René Clément), Days of Being Wild (Wong Kar Wai), Malcolm T. Liepke, Gustav Vigeland (Eros and Psyche), Stephan Sinding (Adoration), Soul Eom (kiss, hug and die)
˗ˏˋ☕ˎˊ˗
“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
T̼̦H̡͚̫̿Ę̮̜͜ ̲D͕̰Ḁ͒ͬY̶̮͛̀̈ ̶̳͈̕͞I͢ ̬͈ͫ͞D̷͇͢O͕ ̵̡̮̲́N̡̼̎O͏Tͦͤ̒̈͠ ̟̯͘͞ Ŗͧͮ̀ÈͥBΙ̙̙̉҉L̺Ơ̽͠Gͪ ͒T̕͠H̵̿ͪIͪS͉̤̭ ̀̿͟I̸̋͑̀S̸҉ͥ͘͘ ̵̢̤̈́͝T̜̙̊̎H͈͍̘͌͢Ë̛̳͖̟ ͉̦̀̋D͍́̕͟Ā͞Y̦҉̶ͮ̒ ͊Iͤ’̙ͥ̋͟M̞͏ͩͤ҉ ̱ B̐Ι̿U̷̓R̥ͤ̈́͋I̻ͭ͗̕̕E̽͜D̢͉̠ ̷̌ͥ̀S̵͇ͩI̔X̦́̐̈́ͮ ̨̯̰ͥͫF̨̝̮͊É̗̯̕E͌̈́̕Ṫ̖͏͕̔ ̪̻̗̥U̹ͯN̵̺D̤̄̍Ë̴R̾ͩ҉̜ ̼̀̆
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I like that people included male rape victims as well! This is a good post
“They shouldn’t have gone out with someone they met online.”
always always reblog
This is amazing as a two time survivor it’s fucking time to hear this shit debunked! Hate has no place!
I see this so much and I can never not reblog it
When I was 13 years old and curious about sex and love, I asked my mom if she had had sex before marrying my father (of whom she is still married to, and has been since before I was born). She said that that wasn’t really a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ question. I said ‘sure it is, you’ve either had sex before him, or you haven’t’. She brought me onto the couch and sat me down and told me about the boy she liked when she was young and how one night she snuck into his house while his parents were gone and they were kissing and he said they should have sex and she said that she wanted to save sex for marriage and he laughed and basically took all her clothes off and he raped her and as my mom was telling the story she cried and this was the second time I had ever seen my mom cry. She was 12 when it happened.
In grade 8 I got a call from my friend in the middle of the night and she was drunk in the park crying and told me that she went out that night with some other friends and they drank a little and her guy “friend” starting flirting and yes she laughed at first but then he tried to pull her shirt over her head and she pulled away and he ripped her shirt and it was her favourite shirt and then he pushed her to her knees and HIS BEST FRIEND HELD HER JAW OPEN WHILE HE FACE FUCKED HER. And so I went to the park and picked her up and took her home and slept in her bed with her except we didn’t sleep because she just cried and her mouth bled and this was four years ago but I still have to be the one to bring her items to the till it the cashier is a man, and she still has anxiety attacks and she’ll get a rash all over her body and I just want to kill those boys but instead they are still walking around. And I’m in the bathroom with her, dabbing at her skin with a warm cloth until it returns to its regular colour.
And in grade 9 one of my closest friends was kinda seeing this boy and so they hung out one night and then she said that she really had to be getting back home and he said that she wasn’t going anywhere until she gave him what he wanted and he parked the car and took off her clothes and she said no and he ignored her and so she laid in the backseat totally limp and just cried and it wasn’t even sex, he just masterbated by using her body instead of his hand and she came to school the next day with vodka in her water bottle and she drank all day and I had to fight her to get the alcohol away from her and she just cried and threw up and I skipped class while I held her hair back and that same boy texted me a month later, asking if I ever wanted to hangout sometime.
And in that same year my very best friend who has never even kissed a boy, confessed to me that when she was 9 years old, her 12 year old cousin made her give him a hand job and he told her that was what cousins do and he gave her a chocolate bar afterwards and she told me that he probably doesn’t even remember it but that it’s something that she’ll never have the luxury of forgetting.
And in grade 10 I knew a girl who invited her best friend over to watch Disney movies and then he started to put his hands down her pants and she said no but she is 130lbs and he is 220lbs and he called her a tease while she tried to fight him but he used one hand to hold her down, and the other to put inside of her and i was the one to push her inside of a classroom and stand in front of her while calling the police when he showed up at our school looking for her and she was so damn scared.
And a few months later I skipped class and was in the car with a guy who i had had unprotected sex with in the past while under the influence of cocaine but this time I was sober and I insisted we use a condom but he told me he couldn’t feel anything while the condom was on so he ripped it off and I said I refused to have unprotected sex again and so he just grabbed me and forced himself into my mouth and I was crying and he pulled me onto him and I just came saying “stop” over and over like a broken record but he must’ve heard something different because he went until he came and I just sat naked in the backseat while he drove me back to the school and said “we should do this again sometime”. And I had five showers that night and I scratched at my skin so hard to try and rip his fingerprints off of me, I still have the scars.
And I found out soon afterwards that that same guy had raped a classmate of mine, 5 months earlier and she told me about how he brought her McDonald’s first, and how he said they could take things slow and she told me about how he didn’t listen to her either. And he goes to our school and so after she told me about her incident and I told her about mine, we decided to report it to the police and the trial is currently still going on and he told people about it, except in his version we are just “asking for attention” and all his friends talk about how bad they feel for him. As if HE is the one that still wakes up screaming. As if HE felt like his skin no longer was beautiful, no longer belonged to him. And I held her in my arms as she bawled after giving the police her statement. And she did the same for me.
And I met a woman a year ago in a paint store and she had a service dog and I asked what the dog was for and it turns out that she had been so brutally raped and abused in her life, that the dog is literally trained to keep men away from her.
And I’m so FUCKING SICK AND TIRED OF THIS WORLD WE ARE LIVING IN. How many rape victims eyes have I already looked into? How many more will I? And how many more friends will I hold while they shake? Because I don’t know how many more I can take. And who the fuck still has the nerve to make rape jokes? And… Something just has to change. Please, someone just start being that change.
-16 year old girl
Did I reblog this already I dont care
Read it. Every. Word.
please raise your children to wash their hands after they use the restroom I’ve watched too many men walk straight out of the bathroom from the stall without a second thought and it’s keeping me up at night
I mean if you taking a piss who cares if you don’t wash your hands, unless you just like go full power and spray yourself like a out of control fire hose
stay the fuck away from me
people who wash their hands after peeing are weak and must be culled
The only excuse for not washing your hands after you piss is mastering the art of pissing without touching your genitals.
You wash your hands every time you touch your dick? How grimy is your dick?
I’m literally never shaking a man’s hand ever again in my life y'all need jesus
remember how i told y'all?
(they don’t wash their hands after shitting either)
What I’m learning is that men are the reason for “employees must wash their hands” signs and why I never put 2 and 2 together is beyond me
Just out of curiosity, do yall wash your hands every time you touch your arm or the back of your hand or any other part if your body?
wash your fucking hands, dickfingers mcgee
what the fuck is wrong with these dudes bruh
I want to spray this post with Lysol
AHEM.
“According to epidemiologist Richard T. Ellison III, it doesn’t matter what you do in the bathroom when it comes to keeping your hands clean. ‘The rationale is that when toileting, it’s possible to have fecal material and fecal bacteria get onto your hands … So it’s wisest to always wash with soap and water even after urinating. Neither plain water nor alcohol hand sanitizers are effective at removing fecal material or killing bacteria in fecal material.’
“According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, handwashing can prevent various illnesses and infections. Ellison added that it can also keep us from coming in contact with E. Coli and hepatitis.This is especially important for men to bear in mind because of perianal sweat. This type of sweat forms around the perianal area, which is the patch of skin outside the rectum. It can then spread to one’s underwear and to other parts of the body like the penis. Biology professor Pat Fidopiastis explained, ‘The point is that simply touching the penis in an effort to direct your urine flow can be more than enough to transfer harmful microbes to your hands, and then on to the pretzels sitting in bowl on the bar.’“
WASH.
YOUR.
HANDS.
I reblog this every time I see it. Don’t be disgusting, wash your fucking HANDS.
The bar is so low for men, holy shit.
the bar is on the ground and these chucklefucks have brought shovels
I can’t stop laughing about dickfingers McGee.
Avengers: Endgame (2019) dir. The Russo Brothers
Brenda had TIME today
I adore her
Okay, Brenda. I see you
it’s hilarious to me when people call historical fashions that men hated oppressive
like in BuzzFeed’s Women Wear Hoop Skirts For A Day While Being Exaggeratedly Bad At Doing Everything In Them video, one woman comments that she’s being “oppressed by the patriarchy.” if you’ve read anything Victorian man ever said about hoop skirts, you know that’s pretty much the exact opposite of the truth
thing is, hoop skirts evolved as liberating garment for women. before them, to achieve roughly conical skirt fullness, they had to wear many layers of petticoats (some stiffened with horsehair braid or other kinds of cord). the cage crinoline made their outfits instantly lighter and easier to move in
it also enabled skirts to get waaaaay bigger. and, as you see in the late 1860s, 1870s, and mid-late 1880s, to take on even less natural shapes. we jokingly call bustles fake butts, but trust me- nobody saw them that way. it was just skirts doing weird, exciting Skirt Things that women had tons of fun with
men, obviously, loathed the whole affair
(1864)
(1850s. gods, if only crinolines were huge enough to keep men from getting too close)
(no date given, but also, this is 100% impossible)
(also undated, but the ruffles make me think 1850s)
it was also something that women of all social classes- maids and society ladies, enslaved women and free women of color -all wore at one point or another. interesting bit of unexpected equalization there
and when bustles came in, guess what? men hated those, too
(1880s)
(probably also 1880s? the ladies are being compared to beetles and snails. in case that was unclear)
(1870s, I think? the bustle itself looks early 1870s but the tight fit of the actual gown looks later)
hoops and bustles weren’t tools of the patriarchy. they were items 1 and 2 on the 19th century’s “Fashion Trends Women Love That Men Hate” lists, with bonus built-in personal space enforcement
Gonna add something as someone who’s worn a lot of period stuff for theatre:
The reason you suck at doing things in a hoop skirt is because you’re not used to doing things in a hoop skirt.
The first time I got in a Colonial-aristocracy dress I felt like I couldn’t breathe. The construction didn’t actually allow me to raise my arms all the way over my head (yes, that’s period-accurate). We had one dresser to every two women, because the only things we could put on ourselves were our tights, shifts, and first crinoline. Someone else had to lace our corsets, slip on our extra crinolines, hold our arms to balance us while a second person actually put the dresses on us like we were dolls, and do up our shoes–which we could not put on ourselves because we needed to be able to balance when the dress went on. My entire costume was almost 40 pounds (I should mention here that many of the dresses were made entirely of upholstery fabric), and I actually did not have the biggest dress in the show.
We wore our costumes for two weeks of rehearsal, which is quite a lot in university theatre. The first night we were all in dress, most of the ladies went propless because we were holding up our skirts to try and get a feel for both balance and where our feet were in comparison to where it looked like they should be. I actually fell off the stage.
By opening night? We were square-dancing in the damn things. We had one scene where our leading man needed to whistle, but he didn’t know how and I was the only one in the cast loud enough to be heard whistling from under the stage, so I was also commando-crawling underneath him at full speed trying to match his stage position–while still in the dress. And petticoats. And corset. Someone took my shoes off for that scene so I could use my toes to propel myself and I laid on a sheet so I wouldn’t get the dress dirty, but that was it–I was going full Solid Snake in a space about 18″ high, wearing a dress that covered me from collarbones to floor and weighed as much as a five-year-old child. And it worked beautifully.
These women knew how to wear these clothes. It’s a lot less “restrictive” when it’s old hat.
I have worn hoop skirts a lot, especially in summer. I still wear hoop skirts if I’m going to be at an event where I will probably be under stage lights. (For example, Vampire Ball.)
I can ride public transportation while wearing them. I can take a taxi while wearing them. I can go on rides at Disneyland while wearing them. Because I’ve practiced wearing them and twisting the rigid-but-flexible skirt bones so I can sit on them and not buffet other people with my skirts.
Hoop skirts are awesome.
Hoop skirts are also air conditioning. If you ever go to reenactments in the South, particularly in summer, you’ll notice a lot of ladies gently swaying in their big 1860s skirts – because it fans all the sweaty bits. You’ll be much cooler in a polished cotton gown with full sleeves, ruffles, and hoopskirt than in a riding jacket and trousers, let me promise you! (This is part of the reason many enslaved women also enthusiastically preferred larger skirts – they had more to do than sit in the shade, but they’d get a bit of a breeze from the hoops’ movement as they were walking.)
They’re also – and I can’t emphasize enough how important this is – really easy to pee in. If you’re in split-crotch drawers (which, until at least the 1890s, you were), you can take an easy promenade a few feet away from the gents and then squat down and pee in pretty much total privacy. It gives so much freedom in travel when it’s not a problem to pee most anywhere.
People also don’t realize that corsets themselves were a HUGE HUGE IMPROVEMENT over previous support-garment styles – and if you have large breasts that don’t naturally float freely above your ribcage (which some people’s do! but it’s not that common), corsets are often an improvement over modern bras.
They hold up the breasts from underneath, taking the weight of them off your back. Most historical corset styles don’t have shoulder straps, so you’re not bearing the weight of your breast there, either, and you can raise your arms as far as your dress’s shoulder line allows (which is the actually restrictive bit – in my 1830s dress, literally all I can do is work in my lap, but in my 1890s dress I can paddle a kayak or draw a longbow with no trouble. Both in a full corset). They support your back and reduce the physical effort it takes to not slouch, helping avoid back pain. They’re rigid enough that you don’t usually have to adjust your clothing to keep it where it belongs. They’re flexible – if you’re having a bloaty PMS day you just … don’t lace it as tightly, and if your back muscles are sore you can lace it a little tighter. And you can undo a cup (or, y’know, not have breast cups) to nurse a baby without losing any of the structural integrity of the garment.
I do educational/historical dressing and people are really insistent, like, “The corset was invented by a man, wasn’t it?” “Actually, women were at the forefront of changing undergarment styles throughout the 19th century!” “But it’s true that it was invented by a man.”
Uh, well, it’s hard to say who “invented” the style but it’s very likely that women’s dressmakers mostly innovated women’s corsets and men’s tailors mostly innovated men’s corsets, honey. Because those exist too.
Everything about all of this is accurate.
@star-anise
Yeees.
Also? These fashions are about taking up space. They’re about being loud and visible and saying HERE I AM. About saying “I’m so rich, I need someone to help me dress every morning.” And about saying, “I am not solely here for male consumption”–there’s a reason so many cartoons lampooning women’s fashion are about how hard those ladies are to kiss, and how impossible it’d be to have a quick fuck in them. (Which it actually isn’t, but that’s beside the point)
Historical women’s fashions aren’t 100% unproblematic and absolutely wonderful. They make stark class distinctions incredibly visible, because you simply cannot wear some of these dresses and keep them maintained without a private staff to do a ton of work for you. They upheld a standard of femininity a lot of women were excluded from. They limited women’s and girls’ participation in sports and athletics.
But damn, women wore them for a reason.
Please stop and read this.
I’m doing a project on gay rights in today’s society.
So if you believe that same sex couples should be allowed to get married, please reblog this.
This would be a lot of help, thank you.
“All men have fears, but the Brave put down their fears and go forward. Sometimes to Death, but always to Victory.”
(insp)
Shoes
The other day in physical education, one of my friends wasn’t wearing his shoes during warm-up. The teacher (a sexist and arrogant asshole) called us to try to teach us something about badminton, he noticed that my friend wasn’ t wearing shoes. He asked why and my friend told him that he felt more comfortable for the warm-up and that it allows him to be more performant. My teacher asked for an exemple in sports where people do that and my dumb ass friend obviously told him, like the genius he is, that some people in Kenya train for marathon shoes-less. Long story short, they argued a little, but my teacher eventually made my friend shut up and the class went on.
Eventually, the teacher was playing games against two students and he wasn’t able to reach back enough to catch the birdie and the opposite team got the point.
And that’s were my dumb friend comes in. He screamed:
‘Maybe if you weren’t wearing shoes, you would have caught the lil birdie.’
The teacher ignored him, but now I’m pretty sure that my teacher hates my friend.
I just wanted to share this story.
The other week, I had another badminton class and my friend was still not wearing shoes and when my teacher noticed I think he died a little on the inside.
Tilda Swinton risked arrest waving a rainbow flag in front of the Kremlin in violation of Russia’s new homosexual propaganda bill. And she wants everyone who can to reblog it in solidarity.
Guys please reblog this, it won’t ruin your blog, this is important
Shoes
The other day in physical education, one of my friends wasn’t wearing his shoes during warm-up. The teacher (a sexist and arrogant asshole) called us to try to teach us something about badminton, he noticed that my friend wasn’ t wearing shoes. He asked why and my friend told him that he felt more comfortable for the warm-up and that it allows him to be more performant. My teacher asked for an exemple in sports where people do that and my dumb ass friend obviously told him, like the genius he is, that some people in Kenya train for marathon shoes-less. Long story short, they argued a little, but my teacher eventually made my friend shut up and the class went on.
Eventually, the teacher was playing games against two students and he wasn’t able to reach back enough to catch the birdie and the opposite team got the point.
And that’s were my dumb friend comes in. He screamed:
‘Maybe if you weren’t wearing shoes, you would have caught the lil birdie.’
The teacher ignored him, but now I’m pretty sure that my teacher hates my friend.
I just wanted to share this story.
a secret code between women: are you safe? in a contact of eyes. i’m here if you need me, the littlest shift of a skirt, of an inclined head, of watching the man who is asking you to smile, bitch. you aren’t alone on the walls of restrooms, i was where you are too. the quiet doling of emergency numbers, the shelters. the space between two women in a largely empty train station. the waiting game of two women strangers who walk, quietly and quickly, to their cars in abandoned parking lots, who watch to be sure the other leaves safely. text me you get home safe. the tally marks of drinks on hidden wrists, carefully disguised as other things ever since men picked up on what it meant and used it to target the “weakest link.”
my father tells me we have nothing to worry about. last night he sent me one of those email chains that say at the top “Safety Tips For The Women In Your Life!!!! Don’t Let Her Die!!”
me, and the stranger on the train. she is asleep and the man is asking me who i am going home to. i feel tears pricking the sides of my eyes. i am 13 while he towers over me. he reaches out one hand, and while i don’t know how she knows, she speaks up without opening her eyes: “If you touch my daughter, sir, I will murder you.” Whatever he grumbles is lost in history, because this moment I am so grateful for the existence of other people that I cannot breathe.
I am 19 and on my phone when i become aware of a 13 year old girl is smiling nervously at a man who’s saying disgusting things. I grab her arm. “There you are, cindy,” I say, and then look at the man like he is bile. “Do you need something from my sister?” i ask, and i walk away with her. she cries later.
this is the way of things: a silent, secret web. our promise to each other that despite our differences, when it comes to the wire, we become family, instantly. the unspoken promise. i’m here. i’m watching. i’ll witness.
Don’t patronize me.