#BEST FUCKING FIVE FOREVER!!!!!!!

[thorne-antics]

Me in middle school, obsessed with Shadowhunters, shipping the main couples: aw they're cute

Me now: amateurs.

Middle school me: huh?

Me, pointing to Rayllum: AMATEURS.

[rainecreatesstuff]

every time I remember the Bad Kids I get so fucking emotional. What if you were 16 and the world was against you but it’s ok bc you’re together.

[crossbackpoke-check]

the pics of morgan and joel are from travis sanheim's wedding this weekend!

^^^me experiencing the one-two knockout punch of “oh they WERE each other’s wedding date” followed by the realization that sanny finally got married 🥹😭 cheers indeed!!!

[girlwiththegreenhat]

you know what? at least he got his wedding. i guess ,

[axolozzy]

louie dump

there’s a wholeee bunch more old art but it sucks ass so i’m not posting it

[anaalnathrakhs]

i <3 feeling like i'm literally always making the wrong choice

[songofwizardry]

so I had the summer (in reality, like… almost three months) off from one of my volunteering roles and I’m 20 minutes into my first meeting back and I am already so irritated and angry. maybe this is Not A Good Sign.

[todayisafridaynight]

obsessed with the bullets from my 'physical impacts from 'gaming'' notes for class cause they all talk about violence and aggression an yeah that sure is a thing in videogames but have you considered ichiban deserves to enact a lil violence. just a bit. also he's the light of my life and the ray of sunshine in the dark and

[folkinsomnia]

screaming myself hoarse til I pass out we were together during a very tumultuous time in our lives I will always have your back and be curious about you about your career your whereabouts!!!

[cakesandfail]

A word of advice: don't google those weird songs you used to sing in the playground as a kid. Not because they're all super offensive (though some of them are), but because while you fondly remember songs about farts, some people fondly remember bullying others with things that include your own personal theme tune from the whole of year five

[feralnumberfive]

"He's not the kind of guy who's going to date."

THEN DON'T FUCKING PUT HIM IN A RELATIONSHIP. NOT EVERY SINGLE GODDAMN CHARACTER NEEDS TO BE IN A RELATIONSHIP.

"I mean, he's a 64-year-old man in the body of an 18-year-old. So we thought he could have a love story."

No, you waited until Aidan was 18 and Five's body was 18 and then immediately jumped on throwing him in an actual relationship.

Wait, Five isn't straight?

tua s4 spoilers

so to be clear did any one except steve blackman actually want this then 😭

[garaks-padded-bra]

fundamentaly embarrassing to show reference pictures to the hairdresser. Like yeah. Hey. Here's a picture of a guy who looks cool. One day I would liketo look cool as well. Can you try to make me look cool. With these paltry ingredients Can you try your very best to alchemize a guy who looks cool right now. In 30 minutes, can you make me into a person. Hey, for twenty five dollars, can you fuck my shit up forever? Could you give me a haircut. Is that too much to ask. Could you cut my hairs

[sidras-tak]

Accessibility takes too goddamn fucking long.

My brother was paralyzed in October 2023. We got him home from the hospital (in Texas, when we live in Iowa) in a clunky old hospital chair. He hated it. He was scared and angry and in pain and his life had just changed forever and he couldn’t do anything for himself in that wheelchair. His first goal (aside from learning how to transfer) was to get a wheelchair. My family was lucky enough to afford one so we thought it would be easy enough. Nope.

We couldn’t buy him a wheelchair. He needed a prescription. For a wheelchair. A doctor had to examine him and declare him in need of a wheelchair. It wasn’t good enough that he had scans and tests showing tumors cutting off his spinal cord. He needed his primary care doctor to examine him during a physical and write a prescription. He was making 2-4 transfers a day, tops. He had no energy to get to a doctor. Home health was in and out every day. He had no time to get to a doctor. He didn’t get a prescription for almost a month. Then it had to go through insurance.

We asked if we could skip insurance and just buy a wheelchair for him. Nope. They wouldn’t sell us one, not even at full sticker price. It needed to be approved by Medicare. We ordered a wheelchair, a nice one, a good shade of green, sporty, small. It would let him move around the house. He would be able to cook, to reach drawers and get stuff from the fridge and brush his teeth and put his contacts in at a sink. We were told it would take awhile, maybe two months. Silently we all hoped he would be around to see two more months.

He went on hospice care on a Saturday in March. On Monday, I was calling his friends to come see him before he died. I got a call on his phone. It was the wheelchair company. They were about to order his wheelchair, she said, but there was an issue with insurance— had he stopped being covered by Medicare? Well, yes. When he started hospice care, he got kicked off Medicare. The very nice woman I talked to told me to call her if he resumed Medicare coverage so she could order his wheelchair. He died less than 12 hours later.

We ordered that chair for him in early December. Medicare didn’t approve the order until March. He was dead before they got around to it. He wanted that fucking wheelchair so badly. The only reason he had any semblance of independence and any quality of life for the last five months of his life was because the wheelchair company lent him an old beater chair, a very used model of the chair he ordered. If I could go back and change one thing about his end-of-life, I would get him his dream wheelchair. He told me again and again he couldn’t wait to get it, so that he could feel like a person again. He made the best of what he had with that old beater chair, but it still makes me mad to this day. He was paralyzed. He needed a chair that afforded him dignity. We had the money for it. And yet, we were left waiting for five months, for a chair that wouldn’t even get ordered until the day he died.

[puppmeo]

Have you ever been assumed to be romantically attracted to someone and even just the thought of that makes you want to throw up . Anybody

[redrook]

thinking about the time I was 5 and a teacher explained what Heaven was to me for the first time (all the best people are there, recess is forever, and I could eat as much chocolate as I wanted) and I'm like ma'am sign me the FUCK up (roughly speaking) and then she had me pray to Jesus to ask to become Xtian

And I was SO absolutely excited, because I thought I'd get immediately beamed up into Heaven, Star Trek style. Everyone else in my class may have been excited about recess coming up, but they were SUCKERS because I was about to get FOREVER recess, and INFINITE chocolate

And I'm like man what's wrong with people that everyone doesn't do this. And my teacher was like you are so smart and that's so true and I'm like yeah I AM so smart and that IS so true

cut to around an hour later, and I'm now angry, confused, and hurt, that Jesus was taking so long to beam me up to Heaven and I was expected to go to REGULAR, FINITE, TEMPORARY recess. A little delay, I could understand. The man was probably very busy. But once it got to a whole hour, that was just unreasonable.

So I go and ask the teacher what went wrong, and why Jesus was dragging his feet on this whole taking me to Heaven thing, and she was like oh. I'm sorry. You only go to Heaven when you're dead.

And I asked her something along the lines of, so the only people who know about Heaven are dead people. and we can't talk to dead people

And she uncomfortably said, Yes.

And I just scowled at her and walked away.

She never tried to talk to me about Jesus or Heaven ever again, but I hope the next time she wanted to convert a five year old, she thought about me scowling up at her in my thick rimmed glasses asking what exactly the holdup was for the Good Lord to just fucking kill me already lmao

[fleshadept]

one of my oldest memories is from when i was about five or six years old. my grandma was visiting that evening, so she was tucking me into bed. now, my parents raised us agnostic with a side of unitarian universalism, so i knew next to nothing about christianity, or that god fellow, or whatever. my grandparents never approved of this, convinced they were damning us kids to hell forever.

so when my grandma was tucking me in and she told me to repeat after her and say “i love you jesus,” i did.

but then she said: “there. and now you’ve let jesus into your heart.” and kissed me and left me to dream sweet child dreams probably of jesus saving my immortal soul or whatever.

except, i didn’t know who the fuck jesus was, and i did not understand metaphor. i certainly had not realized that by saying that, i had apparently invited a small man to take up residence in my heart. my child brain raced with panic: was he in there? what would he do? would i be able to feel him moving around? was he stuck forever now? that seemed mean to him, and felt like my grandma had played a trick on me.

so, sensibly, i decided my best bet to expel this tiny man who i had NOT wanted to move into my heart (aside from surgery, which i discounted as an option when i imagined asking my parents about it) was to do the reverse incantation: i fell asleep that night mumbling and mentally shouting I HATE YOU JESUS I HATE YOU JESUS I HATE YOU JESUS, hoping he would get the message and relocate somewhere that wanted him.