Superwholock runs rampid on this blog! Although it is mostly just a reflection of my extreemly random interests.

 

avenqcrs:

hey you

yes you

is today your first day of school? tomorrow? or maybe it’s your 50th day of school?

either way

youre looking great

you are going to rock this

i believe in you

youre gonna knock em out of the park, champ

best wishes, 

me

holyhobbitshit:

shinitama:

sadness-or-euphoria:

Doctor, this is why I love you. Right here.

Vincent van Gogh was a man who is somewhat famous for his mental instability. He later ended his own life. For the Doctor to go and show him that his art mattered, and that his existence mattered…is amazing. And I wish someone could have shown this amazing artist how much he contributed to the world.

I wish the Doctor could show everyone how they mattered, because everybody does matter. In our own small way, we change the world simply by existing.

I will always, always, ALWAYS reblog this when it’s on my dash.

It’s Monday. I’m going home at 6pm and a middle aged man and a teenage boy are the only people left on the bus with me. I consider the fact that because the driver is also a man I am the only person left on the bus with the correct genetic makeup for boobs. I’m automatically scared, scared because of my own anatomy. I wonder how old I was when I realized that my own body was going to be the cause of the constant anxiety and fear I feel in situations like this. I get off at the last stop and the older man smiles at me while following me up the street. His smile drips, drips, drips and my heart is pounding, pounding, pounding. He turns off down another road, but I run the rest of the way home.

Not all men.

I’m at home on a Tuesday, beginning to plan the travels I want to go on next year. I dream of wandering the streets and meeting strangers. I just can’t wait to escape the city I’ve lived in for 17 long years. But… my mum is hesitant. She’s forever worried about the danger that being a young girl traveling alone can bring. I’ll be alone and she’s scared. Surely I’m invincible. I feel invincible. But I know, I know this danger is real and I can’t help but think to myself, if I feel unsafe in my own city, how am i going to feel in a strange place with strange men who don’t speak the same language as me? If I was my brother planning this, I would probably just be wondering if European girls are going to be hot.

Not all men.

Wednesday is a beautiful sunny day but I’ve always been told that I don’t have a “nice enough body” to wear a bikini on the beach. Ever since I was 6 years old I’ve thought that having tummy fat was ugly. That skin that doesn’t have a perfectly golden glow is undesirable. I amble to a clear patch of sand in my one piece and I can feel pairs of eyes latching onto me. Hairy men in speedos who I don’t look twice at eat into my body with their stares. I’m a piece of meat. I am a piece of meat? I am here for their amusement. Please don’t let me be eaten alive.

Not all men.

Thursday night two friends and I are walking to our god damn school dance when we hear “Jesus look at you! You sluts heading to a pole?” These words snarl out of the mouth of a respectably dressed man and we stop in horror. Shivers roll up my back in fear. It’s dark. We are alone. What. Do. We. Do??? One of us pulls the finger back. I can never be sure how quickly a sexist man can get angry so we walk quickly away. We’re angry, so so angry. But also so… deflated. I wonder if we deserve this shame.

Not all men.

Sitting on the internet, Friday night and scrolling down my Facebook newsfeed:

“Haha, good job at the game today bro. You RAPED them!”
“Damn with tits like that, you’re asking for it :P”

Another sexist comment…
Another sexist comment…
Another sexist comment…

I’m shrinking and shrinking and shrinking and I want to CRY because these boys don’t realize how small they make me feel with just pressing a few keys. I see these boys on the streets, I talk to these boys, I laugh with these boys. Dear GOD, dear GOD i hope these boys don’t think actions speak louder than words…

Not all men.

Three rules that have been drilled into me since I was young run through my mind at 1.30am on a Satur… Sunday Morning:

-Don’t ever talk to strange men
-Don’t ever be alone at night in a strange place
-Don’t ever get into a car with a stranger

I break all 3 of these laws as I pull open the taxi door. Making light conversation with the driver, he doesn’t see my sweaty hand clutching the small pocket knife I keep hidden on me at all times. He doesn’t even realize the fear I feel at his mere presence. He cannot comprehend it, he never will. How easy would this 15 minute car ride be if I was born a boy?

Not all men.

It comes to Sunday, another snoozy, sleepy, Sunday and someone has the AUDACITY to tell me not all men are rapists. I say nothing.

I’m a 17 year old girl.
When I am walking alone and it’s dark, it’s all men.
When I am in a car with a man I don’t know well, it’s all men.
When men drunkenly leer at me on the streets, it’s all men.
When a boy won’t leave me alone at a party, it’s all men.

Not all men are rapists. But for a young girl like me? Every one of them has the potential to be.

Not.
All.
Men.

a piece i wrote for an english assignment about my personal experiences with rape culture, in particular with the saying “not all men” which i know has been makin a lot of controversy on the internet recently! idk just wanted to share (via trueho)

Anonymous asked
So if we wanted to watch some French animation, what films would you suggest?

genderphobia:

disneyforprincesses:

ursulatheseabitchh:

image

the Triplets of Belleville is about an elderly woman searching for her son who was kidnapped in the middle of a Tour de France race. It’s largely free of dialogue, but the sound effects and such are wonderful. It was nominated for an Academy Award for Best Animated Feature—it lost to Finding Nemo.

image

A Cat in Paris is about a young girl and her cat who discover mysteries in the course of one night. It was also nominated for an Oscar for Best Animated Feature, but it lost to Rango.

image

Persepolis is based on an autobiographical graphic novel by Marjane Satrapi about her early life in Iran. It was nominated for an Academy Award for Best Animated Feature, but it lost to Ratatouille.

image

the Illusionist is about an aging magician and an imaginative young girl who form a father/daughter relationship. It was also nominated for a Best Animation Oscar, but lost to Toy Story 3.

image

The Rabbi’s Cat is a story about a cat who swallows a parrot and gains the ability to speak like a human. It is set in 1920’s Algeria.

image

Ernest & Celestine is the adorable story about a big bear and a little mouse who forge an unlikely friendship. It was also nominated for an Oscar in Best Animated Picture, but lost to Frozen.

image

Kirikou and the Sorceress is a story inspired by West African folklore that tells the story of Kirikou, a boy who was born with the ability to walk and talk, who saves his people from an evil witch. The film was popular enough to spawn sequels and a stage adaptation.

image

A Monster in Paris is a 3D animated musical film that is reaaaaalllly loosely based on the Phantom of the Opera. It’s set in 1910 and is about, surprisingly, a monster that lives in Paris, and his love for a young singer.

image

The King and the Mockingbird is an 80’s film about a cruel king titled Charles V + III = VIII + VIII = XVI, who is obsessed with a young shepherdess, and whose attempts to capture the young girl are thwarted by a mockingbird whose wife the King had previously killed.  

Those are probably the most famous of the feature length animated films.

But the animated short films are just as glorious. Here’s a compilation of a bunch of short films and I can link you to others as well. 

Sorry for the long answer but I just really love French animation.

Reblogging over here. French animation tends to do better with diversity than Disney does, hahaha. 

THE FIRST FILM IS MY FAVOURITE OMF