I would shit my fucking pants
I would kill myself
My soul would of evaporated right there
Hay thar. I'm a 20+ year old art student and this is my personal blog.
It's mainly to reblog stuff that interest me, which include
Be warned, I spam a lot of stuff everyday in here, your dash will be several pages longer. BE VERY WARNED. I also sometimes post some NSFW things.Main blog: ones-inspiration, which is my art/animation/writing blog thing for references and art stuff.
Sometimes I don't know if I offended someone or not by their reactions (it's hard to tell online) so... just to let you know I don't mean it, don't take it to heart. I don't joke about things, or purposely write some trolling/flame-attracting messages (unless I'm pissed off and looking for a fight, which is rare). If it seems that way, I probably phrased my words wrong or spoke too bluntly. Please be forgiving if I've made such an error.
When I was maybe 13 years old I laughed along to rape jokes, just like everybody else. At first it’s a shock, then the edginess seemed funny and then you become numb to what is actually being said.
I was fourteen the first time I heard of someone I personally knew getting raped, she was a year above me at school and used to get laughed at and called a slut and would sit on the back field crying.
Later that year I developed feelings towards a girl, two years older than me. The feelings were mutual but nothing romantic ever grew from it, I asked why. She was raped repeatedly by her grandmothers friend from the ages of six until nine. Her parents told her to forget about it and not to stir anything up. So she didn’t. As far as I know she’s finally with someone and I hope he takes care of her and makes her happy.
The jokes weren’t too funny anymore. I started going to parties properly when I was fourteen. That’s when I saw girls getting taken advantage of for the first time. Girls who older boys had supplied and filled up with alchohol. Then taken around into the garden or an alleyway when they could barely stand. Sometimes they would need to be carried. Then at school these boys would brag about getting laid that night. I couldn’t fathom how fucking a girl who can’t move or control herself constituted as consensual sex, but everyone seemed to accept it, so I blindly accepted that aswell.
I lost my virginity that year. Nothing special or amazing, just me and a girl I had been talking to for a while decided to do it. She was older and had been having sex for a while, so I hoped she wouldn’t see it as a big deal. Although that’s when I really understood the intricacies of sex and how that is not what was going down every weekend at these parties.
Then one of my friends got raped. I wasn’t there that night. She came to me in years. Saying what had happened. Blaming herself. Everyone blamed her. People didn’t see it as anything other than she was embarrassed. She was completely off her face drunk and didn’t say no but didn’t say yes. She couldn’t stop it. I felt so helpless as I sat there holding her and I didn’t know what to do to ease her pain. When she spoke to me in that moment I was her and felt the powerlessness and distress that she had.
More times it happened. A girl I was seeing had been raped by her cousins. Another by her uncle. Another by her step dad. A few by guys at parties.
I lost respect for guys at my school. Joking about rape. Boasting about having sex with drunk girls, usually younger than themselves. I couldn’t take it, my friend group ended up being me and my best friend in a group of us guys and fifteen girls.
One night someone tried to do it to my friend. She went to use the toilet in a park but he pushed her into the bushes and mounted her. I was worried why she had been gone so long so went looking and found her underneath him in tears saying stop. I ripped him off, took him to the toilet and put him through the toilet, jumped on his head and took my friend home.
From then on I never let it happen. I would pounce on guys trying to assault girls. I became the predator of the predators. Most of that isn’t worth going into.
Point being, I never understood or could relate to the animalistic behaviour that so many of these teenagers and young adults were exhibiting. This obsession with going on the pull every night out and trying to get laid. An obsession that they felt they were completely entitled to.
My dad spent two years as a prison guard when the economy went bad and he couldn’t do anything else. He would come home late when only I was still up and over a few drinks tell me the stories of how these men operate and what they do. As he drowned his stress and frustrations and spilled his thoughts to his impressionable teenage son, my anger and disgust began to boil over.
What I did to these guys got worse and more intense. But I couldn’t get all of them and I couldn’t stop it happening more times to other friends of mine.
I couldn’t stop it but I tried so hard.
Eventually I stopped going out as much. Any parties or anything of the sort always ended up in trouble, and I didn’t want to end up arrested again. I tried to start a group to help people, set up a counselling service at school, a website. But nobody was interested. Some people went as far as to say I was only doing it to meet and get with girls. But nothing could be further from the truth. I knew their lonely suffering and just wanted to lend an ear and let them know it’s not all bad.
October 2012 was the worst time of my life. I was at the pub with my dad and got a text from my fifteen year old sister. She had been seeing a boy who was twenty, I had just found out. A boy who I knew and would have considered me a friend of his. But he was not one to me. I knew he had tried to assault a twelve year old a year ago, and made it clear I wanted nothing to do with him. He had raped my sister repeatedly in every way and place possible. When we thought she was staying at a friends he had forced her to stay at his and be subjected to abuse all night long. Me and my dad went to his house, kicked the front door in and confronted him in the middle of a family barbecue with his large family all there. My dad told him to leave the country or he would kill him. We left. We found my sister. We went home.
When the gate was closed behind us all hell broke loose. We told my mum what happened and then my dad and her both broke down in tears. I remember trying to grab her to console her but she just fell to the floor dragging my dad with her, both of them screaming with tears pouring down their faces. I felt the same, but I guess I had to be the strong person in that situation. I wiped the tears from my face and held the rest back, I held my sister and told her I loved her and that it wasn’t her fault. We went for a walk and a cigarette together. She said she wanted to tell me before but didn’t know what I’d do. I asked what she meant. She said she didn’t want me to kill him and go to prison. I told her I would kill him anyway.
The police did nothing. My sister refused to say anything happened because she was scared of his family. The police felt we were overreacting. The male and female officers were both rude and arrogant and took a long time to come around but left in a flash.
I filled four petrol cans and left them in my friend’s with a plan to burn his family home and all of them to the ground. My dad bought a machete. My mum had a knife in her handbag. We all found out at the same time and made a promise none of us would do anything if the others didn’t either. And it was left.
For two years, seven months and ten days I have thought about what happened. I’ve spend two years and six months regretting that I did nothing. Not a day goes by I don’t remember it. The fact there was nothing I could do to protect my little sister and that I still can’t do anything to take it back or to make it better. And if I could I would do absolutely anything to change what happened to her.
For all my complaining and anger and frustration and ranting and raving and fighting and threatening and attacking and vigilance and pride I still couldn’t protect her.
There’s still nothing I can do.
And every single time I think about it I feel so impotent and helpless, then I feel selfish because that must be nothing compared to what she went through.
Nothing compared to what any of these victims go through.
I saw a comment just today somewhere online, a picture of a tweet. It read something along the lines of, ‘Why are people complaining about getting raped. There’s children in Africa starving and you’re here getting annoyed that someone wanted to have sex with you so bad they raped you, grow up,’ and people had retweeted and liked this comment. Mainly men. Even some girls. I cannot understand this mentality and nor do I want to, this comment to me sums up peoples ignorant mentality towards the issue.
Rape isn’t funny.
Sorry just had to get this down (via samsmindandthoughts)
On friday, I went to school in my Grell cosplay. On friday, I wanted to celebrate a fun day with some friends I met at a convention who are attempting to put on a nearly impossible show. On friday, I went to school expecting a few strange looks, confused questions, rude comments, and maybe even a few laughs.
What I didn’t expect was that I would be attacked by someone that I had never even seen before.
THEY HAVE THE ACE ATTORNEY OFFICIAL MANGA IN MY LAW LIBRARY I AM CRYING.
Your honor, something is amiss here!
As you are probably aware, library materials are labeled with barcodes as well as a number to determine their location on the shelf, as per the Dewey Decimal System. The books just to the left of the manga are labeled, as are the DVDs just in view on the lower shelf. Look even further behind these shelves and you’ll see that even those books are labeled!
Ladies and gentlemen of the courtroom, I invite you to take a closer look at the volumes that are, allegedly, part of this law library! Something is missing from the spines, isn’t there?
Where are the bar codes?!
This is a blatant contradiction! The OP is lying— these volumes cannot, therefore, be a part of this library at all! I propose that they simply brought these materials in for the sake of the joke!!
Only focusing on one aspect and not the whole of the issue, are we, Mr. Wright? Typical.
Your honor, if you bring your attention to the books just left of the manga, you’ll notice there’s a book (the second to the left) that also does not have a bar code.
If you examine the picture even closer—particularly the DVDs below—you’ll see that they bear bar codes, but not on the spines. No, they have them on the back and/or front of the DVDs. Of course, this method of labeling and organizing isn’t limited to products of the film industry alone.
Therefore, I’d like to propose that it is entirely possible that the manga books do, in fact, belong to the library!
Wh-WHAAAAT?! You’re kidding!!
(Shoot, he’s got me there… Better think of something fast! Something about the books that sets them apart from—
…! I’ve got it!)
While that may be true, you’ve also overlooked one critical error: the titles of the books! Whether or not your hypothesis regarding the labeling system is correct, these titles aren’t alphabetized correctly! What kind of self-respecting librarian would misplace such vital books?
While it pains me to have to point out something so obvious, I suppose I’ll make an exception for you, Wright.
Clearly, one look at the titles of the books next to the manga is a tell-all of this certain library’s less-than-stellar organization skills. None of the books are in alphabetical order, I’m afraid.
They could very well be alphabetized by author and not title, but it’s a little difficult to be able to decipher that from this single picture, wouldn’t you say?
Furthermore, the manga books themselves are in numerical order, suggesting some kind of system is in place, albeit not a very good one, if the alphabetizing is off.
At the end of the day, it seems like neither of us can draw a clear conclusion from this evidence alone. Your honor, I strongly suggest a recess in which we could investigate the library itself further.
I see the issue here very clearly.
Due to the uncertain nature of this case, we’ll have to postpone this decision until more decisive evidence can be obtained. The court will now take a 15-minute recess.
(W-wait, but I’m not—)
I’ve got some decisive evidence for you, pal!
We investigated further into the photo. Zooming in, you can see a label on the DVD case to the bottom left.
Photo Close-up added to the court record!
As you can see, pal, you can vaguely see the words “Of Toledo Law Library” on the label!
And, considering possibilities of the rest of that label, “University of Toledo" was the first to come to my mind!
A quick search on the University of Toledo’s Online Law Library Database revealed that there ARE the comics pictured in it!
Miles Edgeworth Ace Attorney Investigations volumes 1-4 and Phoenix Wright Ace Attorney volumes 1-5!
And there’s more!
The section these comics are filed under is the “Law in Popular Culture" Section, which matches up with the stickers on the rest of the books on that shelf: "Lowering the Bar: Lawyer Jokes & Legal Culture”, “Prime Time Law”, “Lawyers in Your Living Room!" and "Reel Justice: The Courtroom Goes to the Movies”!
Not only is it in the right section, it’s also a documented part of the Law Library’s database!
How’s that for decisive evidence?
Mother arrested after leaving kids in the car during job interview because she couldn’t afford childcare
March 27, 2014
Shanesha Taylor is a homeless, single mother of 2 children, who was arrested for child abuse this week. Taylor left her children, ages 6 and 2 years old, in her Dodge Durango while she attended a job interview in Scottsdale, Arizona.
A passerby found the children in the car, with the engine turned off and the windows cracked open. Once Taylor returned to the car, 45 minutes later, she informed the police officer that she did not have a babysitter for her children.
“She was upset. This is a sad situation all around. She said she was homeless. She needed the job. Obviously not getting the job. So it’s just a sad situation,” said Scottsdale Police Sergeant Mark Clark.
She was arrested and booked into jail for child abuse.
Her children are now in CPS custody.
Update from Prison Culture:
An email from Amanda Bishop who has organized a fundraising drive for Shanesha offers the following additional information:
Shanesha has been in jail over a week. She will be out within the next few days when her bail is done by her family. I do not know if the family would like me sharing any information regarding the jail she is at.
She has plans to get a specific lawyer when she is out. Her children are with family
Ms. Bishop also responded to a question about where the funds raised would be directed:
“All money from this fundraiser is deposited into a bank account of Shaneshas mother. The money is currently being used to bail her out. The money collected afterwards will be used for the care of herself and her children.”
Here is a local report where Ms. Bishop is quoted about the case here.
There is currently no more information available. @lifeandmorelife and I would like to encourage everyone who wants to support Shanesha to please donate to the fundraiser for now. You can also continue to spread the word about this story through your networks. A newsreport about this story is here.
We have been in touch with some folks based in Arizona, are gathering more information, and will provide updates as they become available.
Update #1 (4:30 p.m. central)
Shanesha is still in jail at this point. I was able to learn that she has a hearing scheduled on Friday at 8:30 am. Perhaps, she’ll be able to make bail at that point. Please keep donating to the fundraiser.
everyone’s all excited that DMMd is getting an anime and they’re wondering about porn
you guys are forgetting the most important thing
Clear’s Jellyfish song
Clear’s Jellyfish song
Clear’s Jellyfish song
cLEAR’S JELLYFIS H SON G
tw: abuse, rape, domestic violence
A few weeks ago my mom stapled pages of a story in one of her women’s magazines together and handed it to me. She gave it to me pretty much with the tag lines “for your feminist blog” and “something new to consider.” Indeed it was; she knows me well.
The story is titled “I was forced to be pregnant.” With a title like that, reading it was actually not on the top of my to read list. I thought it was about women not exercising their right to choice. I was very, very wrong on that one.
Have you ever heard of Reproductive coercion? It is a term that was quite recently coined by the advocates against domestic violence to describe a certain type of abuse some women face. It occurs when a man pressures their partner to have kids and/or impregnates them against their will. Reproductive coercion comes in three different types:
1. Emotional pressure that turns into verbal and physical abuse.
2. Sabotaging birth control
3. Marital rape
Over 75% of women 19-49 who reported once experiencing domestic violence also endured some type of reproductive control by men. It’s all about control and domination over a woman’s body.
The first story in the magazine is about a woman who got married around 36 years of age. After a few months of dating her boyfriend talked excitedly about having children. After he proposed he began calling her “The Babymaker.” She then confided with him that one of her fallopian tubes was blocked. He in return insisted she see a fertility doctor. She recounts, “I had finally met a great guy who was eager to start a family with me. What woman wouldn’t fall for that?” Soon after her honeymoon he persisted on in an obsessive manner, but his efforts had to be temporarily halted as she had to get emergency back surgery. Alas, 6 months into recovery he was back to pressuring her again. She was in much pain at the time due to her back, but she agreed to In Vitro Fertilization. She then became pregnant, but soon miscarried. In response, her husband grabbed her by the neck, choking her. He apologized, blaming his outburst on his grief and had her sign up for another round of IVF. And then a third round. She tried to put him off with the excuse that she needed to weigh more before she could take treatments, her husband forced her to get on the scale often and filled the fridge with fattening foods. “It hurt that all I was good for was getting pregnant.” She recounts. At the end, he screamed at her, threatening to replace her with a maid if she couldn’t get pregnant and she told him she no longer wanted to have his child. He destroyed bedroom furniture, pushed her down the stairs and threatened her with a gun. She fled to a domestic violence shelter.
The second story was about a woman who faced marital rape. This woman was 40, had a then boyfriend and two children from a previous marriage. After telling her boyfriend she did not want any more children, her boyfriend refused to wear a condom and began to rape her. She then became pregnant with her third child. Birth control was never an option for her because she couldn’t hide pills anywhere for he went through all of her belongings. Three months after giving birth, he raped her again, impregnating her with twins. She lost the twins in a physical fight with him, but soon became pregnant again. During her recovery she begged her obstetrician to remove her ovaries and devise a lie to tell him; that she had cancer. After a decade of sexual abuse and violence she was able to get a job that kept her out of the house and often times traveling.
One in four callers to the National Domestic Abuse hotline said that their partners had tried to force them to become pregnant. Why? As one woman stated, “Its like he wants to own me from the inside out.” Having a baby is the perfect tie that binds. These type of abusers want to create a circumstance in which their partner is dependent on him.
WHAT’S THAT HAVE TO DO WITH PLANNED PARENTHOOD?
Many voters never consider how defunding these clinics could hurt victims of domestic violence who turn to them for counseling as well as pregnancy prevention. Abused women will turn to health care providers long before they will turn to domestic abuse hotlines and organizations. Many women in abusive relationships rely on life saving, affordable care programs such as Title X. It is critical that such places are open and operation when women and children need them so desperately.
holy fuck im crying.
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.
If you can read this, and still think there is no situation in which a woman should have access to safe abortions, basically you’re saying that you value women as little as the abusive assholes in these personal, true stories did. That you’d rather have a woman die at the hands of her abuser than terminate a pregnancy, and that you’d rather have numerous children born into a dangerous, damaging, terrifying home than allow a woman to have control over her own body and her own reproductive choices.
being addicted to american tv shows is so annoying because you guys have so many stupid fucking holidays for everything that every other week im disappointed when I go to see if the next ep is up yet and its like nOPE it’s fucking ‘armadillo day’ or something in the states ffs
That’s funny cause in Texas armadillo day is a real thing
arE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS
As a Texan I can confirm this.