Pro-choice Is About So Many Things Other Than Abortion That You Should Keep Your Nose Out Of.

All queer people are safe with me 💜

Please Reblog is Your Blog is Safe for Non-Binary People.

If my mutuals can’t rb this then we can’t be mutuals

the seven deadly sins are such bullshit fear tactics. if youve left the church, embrace them.

be proud of who you are. be happy when you look in the mirror and see how hot you are. yeah i see you flexing in the mirror after a workout. nice progress btw honey you look nice today.

dont worry about getting seconds, or thirds even, at dinner. dont worry about eating what society says is "too much" or "too little". eat until youre full. set aside what you cant finish for later so you dont waste food.

its okay to be greedy. its okay to want things for yourself. sometimes we see things that people have and we're like "dude i wish i had that." thats just human. envy and greed on that level are normal.

take a rest day. dont bother going to church this sunday. take a shower, read a book, drink some tea, eat some good food, pet a cat or dog. take care of yourself; its not lazy.

be angry with those who wronged you. punch a punching bag, write about how much you hate them, go work out aggressively and take care of your emotions in a way that doesnt hurt yourself or others. its okay to not forgive the people who hurt you. you arent doing anything wrong, babe.

embrace your sexuality (or, if it applies, asexuality, cause yall need love too). stop feeling shame for wanting pleasure. go read or watch something that turns you on. explore your body. ask your partner to try something new. if youre asexual, then fucking step on the people who say you need to have sexual attraction to be human. you dont. you dont need to be allosexual (or alloromantic) to "qualify as a human." we all experience life in different ways. find your way to experience it.

thought crime isnt real

do no harm but take no shit

Petitions - UK Government and Parliament

Petition: Do not stop transgender people from receiving care in mainstream hospital wards

The previous government proposed changes to the NHS constitution which would mean transgender hospital patients in England may not be treate

Well fucks? Get to it!

the shock value really gets ya huh

New Sherlock Holmes adaptation idea: Watsondoes a voiceover narration of the story and it frequently contradicts what’s happening onscreen. Sometimes it’s literally just blatant lies. Watson also frequently looks into the camera like he’s on the office. It’s set in the original Victorian era so this should not be possible. He’s the only character who does this.

hte real april foule… was you.

I think I may never be sad ever again. There is a statue entitled "Farewell to Orpheus" on my college campus. It's been there since 1968, created by a Prof. Frederic Littman that use to work at the university. It sits in the middle of a fountain, and the fountain is often full of litter. I have taken it upon myself to clean the litter out when I see it (the skimmers only come by once a week at max). But because of my style of dress, this means that bystanders see a twenty-something on their hands and knees at the edge of the fountain, sleeves rolled up, trying not to splash dirty water on their slacks while their briefcase and suit coat sit nearby. This is fine, usually. But today was Saturday Market, which means the twenty or so people in the area suddenly became hundreds. So, obviously, somebody stopped to ask what I was doing. "This," I gestured at the statue, "is Eurydice. She was the wife of Orpheus, the greatest storyteller in Greece. And this litter is disrespectful." Then, on a whim, I squinted up at them. "Do you know the story of Orpheus and Eurydice?" "No," they replied, shifting slightly to sit.

"Would you like to?"

"Sure!"

So I told them. I told them the story as I know it- and I've had a bit of practice. Orpheus, child of a wishing star, favorite of the messenger god, who had a hard-working, wonderful wife, Eurydice; his harp that could lull beasts to passivity, coax song from nymphs, and move mountains before him; and the men who, while he dreamed and composed, came to steal Eurydice away. I told of how she ran, and the water splashed up on my clothes. But I didn't care. I told of how the adder in the field bit her heel, and she died. I told of the Underworld- how Orpheus charmed the riverman, pacified Cerberus with a lullaby, and melted the hearts of the wise judges. I laughed as I remarked how lucky he was that it was winter- for Persephone was moved by his song where Hades was not. She convinced Hades to let Orpheus prove he was worthy of taking Eurydice. I tugged my coat back on, and said how Orpheus had to play and sing all the way out of the Underworld, without ever looking back to see if his beloved wife followed. And I told how, when he stopped for breath, he thought he heard her stumble and fall, and turned to help her up- but it was too late. I told the story four times after that, to four different groups, each larger than the last. And I must have cast a glance at the statue, something that said "I'm sorry, I miss you--" because when I finished my second to last retelling, a young boy piped up, perhaps seven or eight, and asked me a question that has made my day, and potentially my life: "Are you Orpheus?" I told the tale of the grieving bard so well, so convincingly, that in the eyes of a child I was telling not a story, but a memory. And while I laughed in the moment, with everyone else, I wept with gratitude and joy when I came home. This is more than I deserve, and I think I may never be sad again.

Here is the aforementioned statue, by the way.

*“Oh, Ashley” from the Hunicast intensifies.*

Pour one out for a real one.