ARE WE NOT GOING TO DISCUSS HOW SHE FOLDED HER HIJABS TO LOOK LIKE THE HAIR OF THE CHARACTER, THAT IS SUCH A LOVELY AND GREAT IDEA. OHMYGOD
honestly, this is so important though. at 18, i had been depressed for so long that i was afraid of what would happen if it were to get treatment. “if this part of me goes away, who am i? will i still be the same me?” i was legitimately afraid of getting help for myself. your depression may shape you, but it doesn’t define you.
THIS IS SO FUCKING VALIDATING I CAN’T EVEN.
GETTING HELP DOES NOT MEAN LOSING CREATIVITY.
Let me repeat that, in case you weren’t clear: getting help - therapy, medication, self-care - does NOT mean losing creativity. I know too many fabulous creative people who lose themselves and their art to this nonsense.
There are a number of students in my GCSE class that have behavioural issues and if they feel uncomfortable they can do anything from storm out of the classroom to throwing chairs and punching their tables. They’re great kids, they just dont always see the light at the end of the tunnel and when they are in stressful situations they dont know what to do other than lash out sometimes. They are 10 months away from their final exams and the pressure is being mounted on them in every aspect of their school lives.
Last week one of the students saw me making little origami stars. Its something I do when I’m feeling anxious to help me focus on something else. He asked if I could show him how to make them. He had been clenching his fists all lesson, which I’ve noticed is a tell that he is struggling to retain composure. I gave him a strip of paper and talked it through with him. Soon half of the class were asking me to show them. They all picked it up really quickly.
After about five minutes and about 8 stars later, the student sat back down and was in a much calmer and motivated mood for the rest of the lesson. Our next lesson I placed a box of paper strips on my desk and when I saw anyone getting worked up about their work I silently placed a strip in front of them and let them get on with it. The lesson after I was amazed to see that students would go up to the box of their own accord, pick up a few strips and head back to their desks to continue working after calming down.
Yesterday I brought a large jar into the classroom and placed my anxiety stars in there. The boys put their strsss stars in there too. When they fill the jar I’m going to bring sweets into the lesson to celebrate them working hard and working through their problems in a positive manner. I know I’m not the teacher they deserve just yet but I feel like I’ve made a big breakthrough with them.
art therapy is important.
We need more teachers like this
OH MY GOD
Can we have a Clifford live action movie? Not a kids movie either.
Like, Emily Elizabeth’s parents are working for a government agency developing a super soldier serum. None of their testing is working and they start testing the serum on larger mammals in hopes of seeing better results. They inject a variety of animals, including a dog. Nothing. They are desperate and on the verge of having their project shut down when they notice one of the test dogs is pregnant. It gives birth and they bring one of the puppies home for their daughter.
To their shock, the puppy they brought home starts to grow at an incredible rate, its fur mutating into a brilliant red as it does so. They are ecstatic because their research has finally seen a result, albeit one they weren’t expecting. There is only one problem.
Clifford has become attached to Emily and refuses to leave her side. Emily, too, has fallen in love with her new pet. They decide to let their project be canceled rather than try to separate the two. Unfortunately, the government discovers their secret and begins a campaign to retrieve Clifford at any costs. During the initial conflict, Emily Elizabeth’s parents are killed trying to help her and Clifford escape. Emily and her dog flee into the wild. This sets the opening of the movie.
Over the course of the movie, Emily and Clifford are on the run and we see Emily grow into a young woman, everything about her honed into a survivalist expert. She and Clifford roam the backwoods, constantly in fear of being captured. On one of her rare trips into town one day, Emily witnesses a bank robbery in progress involving multiple hostages. She calls Clifford and the two of them save the lives of the hostages but wreck the bank in the process. The local news capture footage of Clifford and it isn’t long before the military arrives in town.
Emily wants to just run away again, but she sees that the military is destroying the town, driving people out of their homes and destroying property in their search. She decides that enough is enough and rides Clifford back into town and fights the military. Amidst the fighting a huge truck arrives. A general (who was her parent’s superior officer) gets out and smirks. He tells Emily Elizabeth that Clifford’s mother wasn’t the only animal that gave birth to a litter of babies after receiving an injection. The back of the truck unfolds to reveal a massive tabby cat. The cat strains against its bindings and tears free, immediately leaping onto a nearby group of soldiers and devouring them. Emily is horrified and orders Clifford to attack.
What follows is the dramatic battle between Clifford and the mutant cat. Clifford has strength, but the cat is too fast and agile. It looks like Clifford is down for the count, when the townsfolk, recognizing that Clifford is on their side, come to his aid. They distract the cat long enough for him to finish the beast off for good.
The military retreats, the general swearing vengeance on the two of them, and Emily and Clifford ride off into the night once more. But the legend of the big red dog has already started. And Emily Elizabeth knows that the day will come when she and Clifford will need to ride into battle against the forces of evil once more.
The credits roll.
Post credits, the screen fades to black for a moment. The sound of waves crashing on shore fills the air. The screen flashes brilliant white. The light of the lighthouse moves on, revealing a rocky shore on a rainy day. The camera pans down to find Clifford and Emily gazing out to sea. A massive object hangs in the air off the coast, obscured in the clouds. A smaller object rapidly approaches them. It resolves itself into an advanced helicopter that silently lands just down the shore from them. Clifford lets out a low growl but Emily quiets him with a hand on his leg. A lone figure emerges from the aircraft, huddling his arms around himself to fight off the cold.
He approaches the two. His hair is short and somewhat curly. He wears glasses and a grey flannel shirt and seems unlikely to pose a threat to the two.
“Emily Elizabeth,” he says over the sound of the crashing surf, “I worked with your parents. It’s taken us a while to find you, after the Birdwell Island incident.”
“And who exactly is ‘us’,” she responds, eyes narrowing suspiciously.
Ignoring her question, the man continues. “Me and Clifford have a lot in common, actually.” He smiles a little awkwardly, then presses on. “I was hoping you might be interested in meeting my boss. He’s fairly excited to talk with you.”
“You still haven’t answered my question. Who are you and who do you work for?”
The man smiles. “My name is Banner. And I’m hear to talk to you about the Avengers Initiative.”
how long did you even spend writing this for that fucking twist ending because my friend you are one devoted fan
HOLY FUCK I JUST SPAZZED OUT AND EVEN DROOLED GIVE THIS TO ME NOW
And then [Vimes] realized why he was thinking like this.
It was because he wanted there to be conspirators.
It was much better to imagine men in some smoky room somewhere, made mad and cynical by privilege and power, plotting over the brandy.
You had to cling to this sort of image, because if you didn’t then you might have to face the fact that bad things happened because ordinary people, the kind who brushed the dog and told their children bedtime stories, were capable of then going out and doing horrible things to other ordinary people.
It was so much easier to blame it on Them.
It was bleakly depressing to think that They were Us. If it was Them, then nothing was anyone’s fault. If it was Us, what did that make Me? After all, I’m one of Us. I must be. I’ve certainly never thought of myself as one of Them. No-one ever thinks of themselves as one of Them.
We’re always one of Us. It’s Them that do the bad things.
Guys, I swear I had good intentions starting out.
I was thinking “Man, you know what we need? We need motivational werewolves. Because really, people area awesome, and don’t know it, and no one would argue with a werewolf trying to motivate you.”
Then I realized “And if a werewolf was dishing out compliments, It would comment on how nice you smelled!” And this was a good idea. I plan on redoing this sometime along with some companion pieces. It’s not the best, but good.
But then everything went wrong when I started drawing, and then, I had the horrible, awful, abysmal thought: “And I could draw it sort of in the style of Lisa Frank. The art of my childhood. Yesssssssssss.”
And… and I did this.
OMG let me tell you guys a story.
I was out one day and at a coffee shop after running errands prework.
This enormous Super Metal Viking looking Mother fucker who is scowling like he is about to lay waste to Lower Queen Anne walks by me, (I was outside) stops, backs up and stares down at me.
I was feeling like maybe he was about to do something good and then he yelled in this big ass bass voice,
YOU SMELL REALLY NICE AND LOOK PRETTY.
Then stomped away.
I think he was a motivational werewolf because I was feeling gross and ugly and upset that day and that moment made everything okay.
Thank you for making this OP and letting me remember.
This is my favorite story ever.