People protect a woman who is burning her scarf
Misplaced Lens Cap

@theartofmadeline
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@reenie89
People protect a woman who is burning her scarf
!!!!!
ITS HAPPENING EVERYBODY STAY CALM
………..just maybe
today in naruto reddit
@infertilehidan
this was it for me
i wish all gas and electricity firms a very happy die
People who can become pregnant are not subordinate.
there’s only 4 hours of labor day left and absolutely nobody on my dash posted todaybor day is labor day. fucking unbelievable. i have to do everything around here
it’s that time of year again lads
good morning americans
As someone around for 9-11 and the "NEVER FORGET NUMBER #1 GREATEST TRAGEDY EVER IN HISTURY" response to it I am in thrilled and invigorated by the fact that younger people just make amogus memes and TikTok nonsense about it. A huge chunk of America cared more about it than any entire genocide and thought you would cry learning about it. They hoped it'd make every generation patriotically angry forever and ever and want to join the military. Instead you Photoshop the towers into squidwards house and shit. Never stop lol
I’m physically unable to take 9/11 seriously, entirely because my grade 9 english teacher was bizarrely obsessed with it. We basically had an entire unit on 9/11. We watched that documentary from those students that were doing a documentary of firefighters and wound up getting the only footage of the first plane hitting. We did a novel study of a book about some kid being in one of the towers for take your kid to work day and him and his dad squeezing past the wreckage of the plane to escape in time. We watched that Nic Cage movie of him being a firefighter during 9/11 that gets stuck in an elevator shaft when the place collapses. I am dead fucking serious, we had to make up fictional people that died in the attack, write an obituary for our 9/11sona’s, and then write and deliver a eulogy as their grief-stricken parent. At one point in the unit the teacher clarified that she hadn’t personally lost anyone to the attack, nor was she anywhere near New York when it happened. She never bothered to ask if any of us had actually lost someone in the attack, which kind of seems like a thing you should do before making us invent fictional victims to give eulogies for. The unit began with her demanding to know where we all were on the day of the attack and what we remembered, and she started crying when we told her that 1. we were two years old at the time and couldn’t remember shit fuck, the closest thing was one of the older kids kind of thought they remembered being very confused at adults freaking out over the TV but that could have been literally anything, and so this meant that 2. we were the last class she would ever teach that could possibly remember 9/11. Probably didn’t help that someone pointed out that we were the class born in 1999, so in two years she’d have students that hadn’t even been born during 9/11. That may have contributed to the teacher crying over the whole thing.
We’re Canadian.
That last sentence KILLED me. Jesus fuck.
I'm American and that last line was a suckerpunch
I'm just going to say it.
It's okay to have a low IQ.
It's okay to not be "smart", as in clever, witty, or cunning. It's okay.
It's okay to not be a leader. It's okay to be content following people- the important thing is making sure you're following the right people for you.
It's okay not to be good at maths and science, and it's okay not to be good at English or art or drama. It's okay if you're not good at anything "academic".
It's okay if you don't have a special talent, or a hobby you're particularly invested in.
It's okay to not be charming, or funny, or 'pretty'.
It's okay if you aren't society's ideal.
None of these things detract from you being a person. None of these things mean you have any less worth as a human being. Even if any of these things mean that you can't contribute to society as an engineer or a doctor or something, that doesn't mean you can't contribute to other people's lives. Don't let society determine your self worth.
Because you can still be kind. Still give people cookies, or hugs, or companionship. You can still do things, you could still find something that you're passionate about, you could still find your calling.
And even if you don't, that doesn't mean you aren't still human. All human beings have intrinsic value, just for being alive. You have the right to be part of society, and more importantly to be alive, whether or not you have something that make other people like you.
Your life is not dependent on others. You are allowed to just exist, to not have found that thing that makes you "you" yet.
It's okay, I promise.
Listen, as an Archivist I can tell you that the VAST majority of human history? Is recorded in the mundane.
"All human beings have intrinsic value, just for being alive."
This has always, *always* been true and it will not change. You are your own universe, and nothing and no one can change that.
i'm not actually mad i just like the comedic delivery of righteous but pointless anger
Never knew what love really felt like until i moved in with my best friends and realized that i didn't like staying in my room all day, and id much rather take naps on the couch where one or both of them are in the same room, doing their own thing peacefully. They make fun of me for all my dad naps, but it's so peaceful and comforting to fall asleep around the people you love and know that they'll look out for you and/or wake you up if something happens. I spent all day Saturday asleep, literally woke up late, got breakfast, sat down on the couch, and konked out for an hour. Woke up, vacuumed, went back to sleep. Woke up to make some chips, went back to sleep. When they leave town without me i can't take my couch naps cause it's not as comfy without them there. Humans are made for communities. Humans are made for best friends. Humans are made for napping with someone nearby who loves you.
for those interested in cowboy hat pet pics
One time I was at the mall with my grandfather and we met an employee who was a 6'2 woman. He later told me "Boy! 6'2! She must have to fight wannabe suitors off with a sword." and I realized with a start that my thing for tall women was genetic
when u only know one lyric in a song so it plays in ur head like this
CONSERVATIVES WIN ELECTIONS BECAUSE LIBERAL VOTERS VOTE CONSERVATIVE!
All you get from voting strategically Liberal, is a false solidarity with right-wing centrists who will enable the Liberal leader only to abandon you and vote Conservative when they get tired of doing so. If you want change, vote NDP. There's nothing to gain with voting Liberal. They do not share your goals.
It’s INSANE to me how controversial romance novels are. Romance novels. Like, being openly a fan of them immediately opens you up to people constantly coming at you like “but don’t you think it’s ~limiting- and ~juvenile~ to have a genre of books with happy endings for women?”
Like.
No?
Why is it such a big deal to want to read stories where women have sex and then don’t die at the end? Jesus Christ.
Why is the concept of female characters being happy seen as less creative than female characters suffering? (Trust me, creating a world where women win in the end takes a lot more creativity and artistic vision lmfao)
Anyway, literary bros will pry my romance novels with their happy endings from my cold dead fingers.
Or die in the very beginning of the book. But no one calls out James Patterson for writing another formulaic thriller in which a woman is horrifically killed after getting laid and then some man solves her murder. Every. Damn. Time.
But hey, those romance novels where women get happy endings are so limiting, eh?
Real talk: realizing how common it is for female characters to be punished for on-the-page sex with death was a big part of my embracing the romance genre. Once I noticed it I couldn’t unnotice it. It’s everywhere. A woman having sex in literature or non-romance genre fiction is the literary equivalent of a red shirt on Star Trek.
It’s not just the sex thing, though that’s a key element. It’s that, in romance novels, the heroine gets to be cared for the way she normally would care for everyone else. It’s wish fulfillment in that her romantic partner will do emotional labor, spend a great deal of time thinking about her, or sacrifice his desires or fortune or reputation to be with her, or spend days nursing her back to health, or risking his life to save hers. In romance novels, you’ll find men taking care of children, talking about their feelings, putting effort into their appearance—even if they are adorably bad at it. Watch how many romance novel protagonists fall in love with a man who happens to be rich or handsome, but she didn’t give in until his behavior changed and he starts mentoring her, or providing for her, or being gentle toward her, nourishing her, listening to her, appreciating her… I suspect romance novels are looked down upon not for being juvenile formulaic “beach reads” but because they paint a fantasy world that leaves men feeling uncomfortable or even emasculated. But whether you’re a Midwest housewife or a big city CEO, women who read romance novels just want to read about men loving women the way women are expected love everyone else—with a nurturing and protective form of unswerving loyalty. Great sex they don’t have to die for is also a huge bonus, but the *romance* part of the novel is genuinely more about the woman being appreciated (for her beauty or spunk or intelligence at first, and then for all of her by the end).
“women who read romance novels just want to read about men loving women the way women are expected to love everyone else—with a nurturing and protective form of unswerving loyalty.”
THANK YOU.
According to the website smartbitchestrashybooks, which analyzes romance novels to a great degree, one common element of the average romance novel is what they call the grovel. That is, there’s a turning point near the climax of the book where the leading man says, in effect, “I hurt you. I had my reasons, but they don’t make it right. I am devastated that I hurt you, and I will do whatever it takes to make it okay again. Leaving you is completely on the table even though I find the prospect horrific.”
And that’s a very important fantasy. To have your feelings, your pain, be made so absolutely central to the narrative, to someone else’s world. You could call it a power fantasy, but I don’t think that’s exactly right. It’s a significance fantasy. A romance story is a story in which the woman is the most significant damn thing in the book.
And when you think of it like that, you realize why some people are really, really threatened by it.