Me @ my otp
@ashlockley at us @allankg
dirt enthusiast
cherry valley forever
đȘŒ
Cosimo Galluzzi
Three Goblin Art

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we're not kids anymore.

Andulka
One Nice Bug Per Day

⣠Chile in a Photography âŁ
RMH
YOU ARE THE REASON

Janaina Medeiros
Game of Thrones Daily
Aqua Utopiaïœæ”·ăźćșă§èšæ¶ă玥ă
taylor price

blake kathryn
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
sheepfilms

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@othercitruspocket
Me @ my otp
@ashlockley at us @allankg
Repeat after me, kids: your significant other liking multiple genders does nothing to invalidate the fact that they like you best.
It simply means that they could have chosen literally anyone on earth, regardless of gender, and yet they still picked you.
@allankg dis u
(via Activity - Business Caviar)
Quick Take Awayâs:
Always look good and professional.
Trust is destructive. Better have more enemies around you, rather than friends.
Let everything look easy for you.
Be in the center of attention.
Plan step by step and fallow it on. Donât bite more than you can chew.
Never enforce others to do what you want. Lure them to the point that you want.
Speak less, act more.
Keep your distance emotionally and physically.
Never act like a smartest person in the room. Others will place target on your back.
it was probably a mistake to rewatch what we do in the shadows this late at night but whatever
the scene
i love hamilton the musical
bye
Lol of all the posts to be on radar for XD
staff any chance you could put this: http://macallanspecter.tumblr.com/post/101710500058/original-watercolour-art-as-you-can-see-a5-on Which I actually like, on radar? â€ïž
Insp. (x)
church
priest: *opens bag of communion bread* 16 ducks in a trenchcoat: *shuffle excitedly*
The girls are never supposed to end up together. I watched that movie with Ellen Page and Alia Shawkat, the roller-skating movie, the one where Ellen and Alia are best friends, each otherâs only comforts in their podunk town. They need each other, and they hug, and they dance, and they tell each other I Love You, and Ellen meets a skinny boy who plays in a band. It doesnât even work out with the boy, but thatâs almost tangential. The girl was never a real option. I think thatâs why itâs really difficult for girls. For me. We follow narratives and our fingertips trace the contours of the stories we love and we long to escape within the confines of our own lives. Meet your boyfriend in the pouring rain and yank down his mask and kiss him upside down. Run with your boyfriend to the front of the ferry and throw your arms out to the side and scream, âIâm king of the world!â If you are a girl in love with a boy, your possibilities are infinite. If there is a special girl in your life, you love her as a friend. You love her as a friend, but she becomes less important to you as you grow, and you leave her behind for a boy. She might even stand next to you when you marry the boy, and she might catch the bouquet of flowers that you throw to her. Youâre giving her permission to move on, move away from you. Itâs a ceremony of separation. But if you should fall in love with a girl - and loving and falling in love are two very distinct things - the first kiss is the end. Youâve all seen the movie. Or the television show. Or the after-school special, or youâve read the book that was banned from your schoolâs library for containing Sexual Content. The point of your story is not to fall in love. The point of your story is to struggle. Your story begins with a lie and climaxes in a truth and ends with a kiss. In the movie of your life, forty-five minutes are devoted to you figuring out how to say that you want to kiss girls, and another half-hour is devoted to peopleâs objections, and maybe the last fifteen minutes is you kissing the girl. Maybe you donât even get to kiss the girl. Maybe she tells you that sheâs flattered, but she doesnât bat for your team. The critics swoon; itâs realistic, they say, so realistic, to depict the struggle of the modern teen, the heartbreak of irresolvable incompatibility. Isnât that always what celebrities cite in their divorces? âIrreconciliable differences.â And so youâre lying on the floor of your bathroom, your knees curled to your chest, or youâre on your sofa with a pint of ice cream, or youâre in bed watching your favourite sad movie on Netflix, and the collective weight of all that you consume settles on your shoulders, leans in, and whispers, âYou were never meant to fall in love.â You were never meant to fall in love. Your story ends in tears or it ends in death. Jack Twist was bludgeoned to death with a tire iron and Ennis Del Mar was left alone in his closet to dance with an empty shirt. Alby Grant found Dale Tomasson swinging by a noose in the apartment that had been their safehouse, their respite, and he sank to his knees and cradled Daleâs bare feet and he cried. The Motion Picture Association of America axed Lana Tisdel and Brandon Teenaâs sex scenes, but they didnât have a problem with the extended shot of Lana cradling Brandonâs corpse in her fragile arms and falling asleep next to his body. Love and intimacy are ours only in death, or so it would seem. I donât want to die. Isnât that a very human experience? Not wanting to die? When does anyone who looks like me get to grow old and raise grandchildren and hold her wifeâs hand as the skin wrinkles, turns translucent? Sometimes my father asks me if Iâll ever date a man. Sometimes he doesnât ask. âYou are attracted to men, and you dream about falling in love with men,â he says, as if he can will his imaginary daughter into existence merely by speaking about her. Or maybe he is just looking out for my safety. Heâs seen the movies, too. He loves me. He doesnât want me to die.
if this is heaven (via nonbinareyskywalker)
Incidentally, this is why the lesbian community lost its collective shit over Carol, even though every straight male critic and his mother was calling it âboring.â It wasnât boring for us.Â
(via threeguesses)
hello my naughty followers
anybody up for Smutty Sunday again this week?
the best 12 seconds of the show lost in the transition from the workshop to broadway (from one last ride, precursor to one last time)
Now, see, this pisses me off.
Not everyone learns the same way.
When I was in nursing school, I didnât take notes in class. You know what I did? I played endless games of pocket tetris. The chair of the nursing program approached me about it once, going so far as to say that she thought for a time that I must have copies of her tests, since I aced everything she tested us on, even though I never appeared to be paying attention.
Visual learners, auditory learners, hands-on learners - everyoneâs heard of those types, sure. But thatâs not all there is. Thereâs a 4th learning style that is actually best suited to splitting the focus between disparate activities to learn most effectively. For me, that was playing repetative games or doodling, coloring print outs of Sailor Moon characters or fiddling with small âfidgetâ toys. An English Lit professor had identified this as my learning style a couple years earlier and lo and behold, I started learning better when I started catering to my actual learning style.
I was lucky; the chair of the nursing program knew about the learning style I exhibited and didnât bother me again about the fact I sat in the back and played mindless games in her classes. The goal of class is to learn, right? What the fuck does it matter if the person learning does so via note taking or doodling or looking at puppies? To this day I most effectively form associations and recall memories of things Iâve listened to by doing something very different with my hands and eyes.
Donât assume people are slacking off just because theyâre not learning the way you expect them to be.
Wow this makes so much sense
Ayyyy this is me too. Whenever I was in class I always, ALWAYS had to be doing something with my hands or Iâd never be able to focus on or remember anything. When I was younger my mom recognized this and at the beginning of every school year she made sure to talk to all of my teachers and assure them that while yes, I sat in my seat and doodle the whole time, I WAS paying attention.
Many years ago, I worked in a call center. While working there, I drew my first comic strip, âThank You For Calling,â which was about funny anthro people whoâwait for itâworked in a call center.
We got a new manager who was upset to see me drawing through my calls, even though I had some of the best stats in the company. He told my supervisor to take my paper away. I started drawing on my desk (not on purpose, just as a reflex). He took my pencils away.
My stats plummeted.
This wasnât me being stubborn or refusing to work: I was trying, I just couldnât do it. I had no focus or ability to retain what I heard from customers. Finally, my supervisor gave me back my art supplies, and everything went back to normal.
Everyoneâs brain is different.
In high school, I used to do most of my writing in history and other lecture-heavy classes. I was lucky that it just looked like I was taking incredibly detailed notes.
This is one of those things that sounds like a weird excuse to slack off, but this explains so much about my entire school career. I would doodle or write because I felt bored or distracted, but I still retained a ton of information and did really well. HUH.
Also, fuck this professor and the snitchy TA.
this blog is now exclusively a Bulbasaur positivity blog
1 like = 1 hug
1 reblog = 1 kiss
Thank you little Bulbasaur :)
I love you Bulbasaur.
Bulbasaur loves you back <3
I have a female Bulbasaur on LeafGreen named Ivy. I did consider Pamela, but thatâs my granâs name.
Awwwwwwwwww
Now what would be a good Pokemon to name HarleyâŠ
I canât think of one offhand.
Hmmmmm.
Someone suggested Ledyba maybe? :)
Clefairy would be close to correct personality wise
I want to draw this nowâŠ
#the only reason they interrupt their soulful intense gazing into each otherâs eyes #is so that they can commence soulful intense lust-filled gazing at each otherâs mouths