therosyone - Tumblr blog

[therosyone]

[therosyone]

[therosyone]

[therosyone]

How Finn Sees The World

In the latest ep of Adventure Time, we find out that Finn is Red/Green Colorblind.  Also known as Deuteranopia, it is most common in males, especially Caucasian males.

Using a Colorblind Simulator (go try more pics yourself!) these are a compilation of how Finn probably sees the Land of Ooh.  Especially interesting is that he doesn’t really see how pink Princess Bubblegum is, or how red Flame Princess is!

Also, here’s an example of why Finn probably confused the Emerald for a Ruby:

Kind of easy to confuse the two in a dark cave.

[therosyone]

[therosyone]

[therosyone]

[therosyone]

[therosyone]

[therosyone]

[therosyone]

Rape culture is when I was six, and my brother punched my two front teeth out. Instead of reprimanding him, my mother said “Stefanie, what did you do to provoke him?” When my only defense was my mother whispering in my ear, “Honey, ignore him. Don’t rile him up. He just wants a reaction.” As if it was my sole purpose, the reason six-year-old me existed, was to not rile up my brother. It’s starts when we’re six, and ends when we grow up assuming the natural state of a man is a predator, and I must walk on eggshells, as to not “rile him up.” Right, mom? Rape culture is when through casual dinner conversation, my father says that women who get raped are asking for it. He says, “I see them on the streets of New York City, with their short skirts and heavy makeup. Asking for it.” When I used to be my father’s hero but will he think I was asking for it? (will he think) Will he think I deserved it? Will he hold me accountable or will he hold me, even though the touch of a man - especially my father’s - burns as if I were holding the sun in the palm of my hand. Rape culture is you were so ashamed, you thought it would be easier for your parents to find you dead, than to say, “Hey mom and dad,” It wasn’t my fault. I didn’t ask for it. I never asked for this attention, I never asked to be a target, to be weak because I was born with two X chromosomes, to walk in fear, to always look behind me, in front of me, next to me, I never asked to be the prey. I never wanted to spend my life being something someone feasts upon, a meal for the eternally starved. I do not want to hear about the way I taste anymore. I will not let you eat me alive. Rape culture is I shouldn’t defend my friend when an overaggressive frat boy has his hand on her ass, because standing up for her body “makes me a target.” Women are afraid to speak up, because they fear their own lives - but I’d rather take the hit than live in a culture of silence. I am told that I will always be the victim, pre-determined by the DNA in my weaker, softer body. I have birthing hips, not a fighter’s stance. I am genetically pre-dispositioned to lose every time. Rape culture is he was probably abused as a child. When he even has some form of a justification and all I have are the things that provoked him, and the scars from his touch are woven of the darkest and toughest strings, underneath the layer of my skin. Rape culture leaves me finding pieces of him left inside of me. A bone of his elbow. The cap of his knee. There is something so daunting in the way that I know it will take me years to methodically extract him from my body. And that twinge I will get sometimes in my arm fifteen years later? Proof of the past. Like a tattoo I didn’t ask for. Somehow I am permanently inked. Rape culture is you can’t wear that outfit anymore without feeling dirty, without feeling like you somehow earned it. You will feel like you are walking on knives, every time you wear the shoes you smashed his nose in with. Imaginary blood on the bottom of your heels, thinking, maybe this will heal me. Those shoes are your freedom, But the remains of a life long fight. You will always carry your heart, your passion, your absolute will to live, but also the shame and the guilt and the pain. I saved myself but I still feel like I’m walking on knives. Rape culture is “Stefanie, you weren’t really raped, you were one of the lucky ones.” Because my body wasn’t penetrated by a penis, but fingers instead, that I should feel lucky. I should get on my hands and knees and say, thank you. Thank you for being so kind. Rape culture is “things could have been worse.” “It’s been a month, Stefanie. Get out of bed.” “You’ll have to get over this eventually.” “Don’t let it ruin your life.” Rape culture is he told you that after he touched you, no one would ever want you again. And you believed him. Rape culture is telling your daughters not to get raped, instead of teaching your sons how to treat all women. That sex is not a right. You are not entitled to this. The worst possible thing you can call a woman is a slut, a whore, a bitch. The worst possible thing you can call a man is a bitch, a pussy, a girl. The worst thing you can call a girl is a girl. The worst thing you can call a guy is a girl. Being a woman is the ultimate rejection, the ultimate dismissal of strength and power, the absolute insult. When I have a daughter, I will tell her that she is not an insult. When I have a daughter, she will know how to fight. I will look at her like the sun when she comes home with anger in her fists. Because we are human beings and we do not always have to take what we are given. They all tell her not to fight fire with fire, but that is only because they are afraid of her flames. I will teach her the value of the word “no” so that when she hears it, she will not question it. My daughter, Don’t you dare apologize for the fierce love you have for yourself and the lengths you go to preserve it. My daughter, I am alive because of the fierce love I have for myself, and because my father taught me to protect that. He taught me that sometimes, I have to do my own bit of saving, pick myself off the ground and wipe the dirt off my face, because at the end of the day, there is only me. I am alive because my mother taught me to love myself. She taught me that I am an enigma - a mystery, a paradox, an unfinished masterpiece and I must love myself enough to see how I turn out. I am alive because even beaten, voiceless, and back against the wall, I knew there was an ounce of me worth fighting for. And for that, I thank my parents. Instead of teaching my daughter to cover herself up, I will show her how to be exposed. Because no is not “convince me”. No is not “I want it”. You call me, “Little lady, pretty girl, beautiful woman.” But I am not any of these things for you. I am exploding light, my daughter will be exploding light, and you, better cover your eyes.

slk

Rape Culture (Cover Your Eyes)

everyone read this. please everyone read this.

(via shisno)

[therosyone]

DO U EVER HAVE THIS CELEBRITY THAT EVERY SINGLE TIME YOU SEE THEM YOUR HEART FEELS LIKE ITS GOING TO RIP OUT OF UR CHEST AND YOU GET BUTTERFLIES IN UR STOMACH AND U START SMILING REALLY BIG

[therosyone]

harry styles is gonna be one of those dads who tries to relate to his children and uses all the popular words he hears kids using and always asks his children if he’s a hip dad

[therosyone]

1. Cut your hair every now and then. Fresh starts are always nicer than you think. Who needs split ends anyways. 2. Pick a song you really like. Listen to that song a lot. And I mean a lot. Dance around your room naked to that song, beat the song lifeless till it annoys the hell out of you. Then pick a new song and go through the same process. We all need to really hear music, we need to understand what the song we are listening to is really about. 3. Paint your toes black, make it as perfect as possible. Then, scratch it off. Remember nothing is permanent. 4. Go on a run with your dog. Try to race him and beat him. Realize you can out run many things. Then go back and pet your dog, realize that some things you need to go back for. 5. Decorate a plain backpack. Glue on sparkles, glitter, diamonds, newspaper and magazine clippings, lace & ribbon, anything else that may fancy you. Remember, you don’t have to be the same person you were a minute ago. 6. Buy some pretty lights and string them up in your room. Turn off all the lights except for one when you go to bed. Remember it isn’t always dark and lonely. Change your perspective. 7. Lay outside one night. Breathe in breathe out. Accept that you are only one person and cannot do everything at one time. You can take your time. The creator of the stars you’re looking up at did not do it all in one day. Pace yourself. 8. Get up every morning and stand in front of the mirror. Naked, fully clothed, backwards, upside down, who cares how, just do it. Observe yourself. Notice the wrinkles under your eyes from laughing a lot. Count your freckles. Admire your ass. Then name 3 things you love about yourself. You need to love yourself.

Tips from Blossite on how to be okay with yourself. (via blossite)

[therosyone]

vertical/personal/l♥ve

[therosyone]

You don’t know true frustration until you’ve dug several times through a pile of black clothing, in order to find a SPECIFIC article of black clothing.

[therosyone]

If you’re a teen you must follow this blog.