@prettyinfeels / prettyinfeels.tumblr.com
I’m desperate, I realize this isn’t the best platform for this, but please donate if you can, share even if you can’t. I’ve lost my home to a fire at the end of January, I’ve found another place but the security deposit and first months rent were more than I thought it was gonna be. I also just had to spend $250 on new tires, and I may have to do more work on my car. Please
doing stuff is so hard shout out to anyone who has done anything
#CAN YOU BELIEVE THIS CHEERFUL AND HAPPY INTRO WAS FOLLOWED BY THE SCARIEST EPISODE IN DOCTOR WHO HISTORY
Chocolate guy has learned how to make corrugated cardboard. he is a powerful eldritch being who cannot be contained. The only reason we seem to be alive is because his interests are exclusively in the making of delicious lifelike desserts.
PACKING TAPE?? fucking PACKING TAPE??
“I know I’ve told this story before, but my abusive ex refused to let me take birth control. I was on the pill until he found them in my purse. I went to the Student Health Center—they were completely unhelpful, choosing to lecture me about the importance of safe sex (recommending condoms) instead of actually listening to my problem. Then I went to Planned Parenthood. The Nurse Practitioner took one look at my fading bruises and stopped the exam. She called in the doctor. The doctor came in and simply asked me: “Are you ready to leave him?” When I denied that I was being abused, she didn’t argue with me. She just asked me what I needed. I said I need a birth control method that my boyfriend couldn’t detect. She recommended a few options and we decided on Depo. When I told her that my boyfriend read my emails and listened to my phone messages and was known to follow me, she suggested to do the Depo injections at off hours when the clinic was normally closed. She made a note in my chart and instructed the front desk never to leave messages for me—instead, she programmed her personal cell phone number into my phone under the name “Nora”. She told me she would call me to schedule my appointments; she wouldn’t leave a message, but I should call her back when I was able to. And that was it. No judgment. No lecture. She walked me to the door and told me to call her day or night if I needed anything. That she lived 5 blocks from campus and would come get me. That I wasn’t alone. That she just wanted me to be safe. I never called her to come to my rescue. But I have no doubt that she would have come if I had called. She kept me on Depo for a year, giving me those monthly injections in secret, helping me prevent a desperately unwanted pregnancy. I cannot thank Planned Parenthood enough for the work they do.”
—
I know I’ve reblogged this before, but it bears re-reblogging (?). This is how you respond to abuse, this is how you give people control over their bodies/uteruses, this is how you act as a generally non-judgmental and compassionate person. I love this story so fucking much.
(via coffeewithants)
I think people have truly lost any ability to be patient with storytelling.
‘I don’t understand this’ They’ll explain it if you wait.
‘I don’t like how this episode left things hanging’ There’s a continuation next week.
‘This character is flat’ Wait for them to be fleshed out.
So many of the complaints I see about shows lately are people being confused by things THAT THE SHOW WANTS YOU TO BE CONFUSED BY THATS THE FUN OF MYSTERY AND FORESHADOWING YOU ABSOLUTE GOBLINS THE MAIN CHARACTER IS ALSO CONFUSED AND THEYRE GONNA DO A BIG REVEAL AND EXPLANATION LATER IF YOU WOULD JUST FUCKING WAIT
If you want to get better, eventually you’ll get to a point where your brain doesn’t know it’s a joke and will take it seriously
“BuT iTS a cOpINg SkiLl”
Yeah and a fucking bad one
“I use humor to deflect”
Yeah talk about that more with a therapist
Listen I'm a little drunk but... yarn crafts are so important. Textile arts are the backbone of society. All of us take our clothing and accessories and upholstery for granted and it's honestly shocking
I used to buy affordable t-shirts and they were comfy and nice, now I buy them in the same price range and they're sandpaper. They don't wick away moisture and the print comes undone after two washes. I buy denim and the crotch falls apart in months. I read about how modern Singer sewing machines are disappointing and then look at the delicate machining and the beautiful finishes on my 1875 machine and wonder if this is progress?!
Reblog if you're desperate for clothing that doesn't feel like sandpaper or if you like machines that go thunk instead of going obsolete in two years
aquarium outfit inspo
i loved the vision so i thought id bring it to fruition.
Sorry to disappoint…?
(Also, there are Irish Asian (sorry for the broad descriptor) people! Irish people can be wasian! Why would that disqualify you??)
So @carriageofaerietails and anyone else who wants to hear: the Time Someone Tried To Insist I Was Jewish.
Warning: anti-semitism.
I was still in school, probably somewhere between 13 and 15 when this story takes place and I was in RMPS (Religious, Moral, and Philosophical Studies) class which was one of my favourite classes and the one I passed my first exam in with 97% and then greatly disappointed my teacher in when I didn’t study for my Higher and only got 74%.
I was sat beside a boy we’re going to call Richard. Because he was a dick. Our surnames were right next to each other so I dealt with this boy for all of my school life because he also become House Captain the same time I did (no I did not go to private school, UK schools often have houses and shit because why not).
We were on a break and I being the nerd I was had whipped out my book to crack through a chapter before we got back to whatever we were doing. It was probably Buddhism because I swear to you, that’s the only religion we ever did. Every single year we studied Buddhism and I did this for five years. Honestly, I feel I have an excellent grasp on the religion and it seems like a cool one.
Anyway, Richard saw me reading and leant over to ask, “Is that the Jewish Bible?”
I stopped, confused as all hell, and said, “No?”
“Yes it is.”
“No, it’s not. Also, I’m pretty sure it’s called the Torah.”
“Are you Jewish?” He asked with a strange intensity.
I’m not. Honestly, at this point in my life, I’d never knowingly met a Jewish person and I don’t think he had either. This was a small rural Scottish school, not being Church of Scotland was already religious diversity.
I - for anyone who doesn’t know - am a half-Catholic, half-Protestant Northern Irish atheist. We had been raised atheist. I’m not even christened much to my Nana’s horror.
“No, I’m not Jewish,” I said.
“Then why are you reading their Bible?” he insisted. His entire face was twisted and I was slowly realising that Richard wasn’t joking. I’d spent my entire school life being accused of being things I was not: a trans woman, a lesbian, a member of the IRA, even a prostitute.
But all of those had been to hurt me. This was serious.
He leant towards me and spat, “You killed Jesus. It’s your fault.”
Dear reader, I was confused and shocked. You see, up until this moment I had never heard of this. And I’d done the reading. Jesus, if he existed, had been killed by the Romans. He’d been betrayed by Judas. Also, that was two thousand years ago. I was thirteen/fifteen. I feel like I would have remembered doing that.
I relayed this. I told him that even if I were Jewish, there was nothing wrong with that. He does not seem happy.
“Then why are you reading a book with gold pages?”
Back then, I didn’t understand what the fuck this would have to do with Jewish people. I had some vague knowledge of an incorrect connection, but couldn’t put it together. Now, I’m horrified I didn’t have a proper defence and that I was so naive.
At that moment, the teacher (who liked me immensely) returned and with one final antisemitic hiss, Richard retreated.
I didn’t tell my teacher because I was bullied so often that it was getting embarrassing but I remembered it.
The only thing I came away from that conversation with was confusion over Richard’s choice of attack.
You see, dear reader, the book I had pulled out to race through a chapter was none other than The Picture of Dorian Grey, by Oscar Wilde. A book with expresses antisemitic sentiments more than once.
I do remember my exact train of thought (but not exact wording because I was thirteen to fifteen and unaware of my sexuality if not my gender identity, I’m nonbinary masc) going as follows:
“If you were going to try and insult me and infer something about my character from my reading material… call me gay. It would at least be accurate! You utter philistine.”
That very Christian boy, by the way, as I already mentioned became a house captain alongside me when we were seventeen. He refused to participate (actually along with all the other house captains) in our mandated presentation about bullying the queer kids and - when I came out to the whole school in the middle of it - cornered me on the stairwell.
“I don’t approve of your life choices,” he said, looking me up and down, “and I certainly don’t approve of you pushing it on the younger kids.”
I - the founder and head of the only drama club in this school which was expressly for the bullied queer and neurodivergent kids to come and hide in during lunch due to memories of my queer friends and I being physically assaulted - said nothing back.
“And because of that,” he continued, “I don’t think we should ever speak again.”
I remember he was on the stairs below me because I remember taking a step towards him and still being taller. I remember thinking back to that moment in RMPS 4-2 years prior.
“Richard,” I said with surprising cheerfulness, “If I’d know that’d been the outcome, I’d have come out years ago.”
The shock on his face fuelled me for years. I’m not usually eloquent in face-to-face conflicts, I tend to need things at least half planned first, but that day it worked.
I don’t know what happened to Richard, I haven’t seen him since I left school but I don’t have hope he’s gotten better.
But yeah, that’s the really long story of the time someone insisted I was Jewish.
>is believed to be extinct
>shows up out of nowhere to be photographed for two hours
>refuses to elaborate
>leaves
Once again, I am BEGGING people to realize that tumblr tags are a filing system and not a visibility metric.
One does not come to tumblr to tag-spam for notes and get popular. There is no algorithm here. There is no monetization here. There are no influencers here.
This is where every other social media system comes to die. And we cackle and roast marshmallows on the pyre like the gremlins we are.
If you tag-spam to get your post seen by as many people as possible you are actually getting blocked by a bunch of people pissed off that you shoved an unrelated post into a tag they were looking through for relevant content. You also are going to be reported by people for spam. Because you are spamming.
So my Dad and brother took separate cars to dinner tonight, and this happened.
they look like they are arguing about who is going to go home and change
Oh, they were.
Jake: You’ve got to be kidding me Dad: You SAW me walk through the kitchen on my way to pick up your sister! Jake: No seriously do you have an extra shirt in your car this is ridiculous
Oh my god they’re gonna kill me they didn’t want to even walk into the restaurant together let alone have this many people reblog this photo
Honestly I’m not deleting my Tumblr solely in the hopes that this post one day hits 1 million notes
Good news!
World Heritage Post
