#I WROTE THIS IN 5TH GRADE

[bobcross1010]

IM GONNA COMBUST INTO 55 MOTHBALLS AND ONE WILL FLY INTO SOMEONE'S MOUTH

[immaterial-girl]

rent is so great bc on first watch ur like “im not sure what just happened but that was awesome! im sure if i watched it more i would understand it” and then it’s like

angel got paid $1000 to kill someone’s dog (circumstantially). benny is like “yeah my girlfriend’s sad bc her dog died :(” and mark is like oh my god. should we throw a party. should we invite bella hadid. and then they do the most cuntwrenching song of the whole show about the culture that comes from a disenfranchised community which is just musical high after lyrical high after performance high and just when you start wondering how they could possibly end this song or if u even want them to an alarm goes off for two of the characters to take their AZT and that’s how they find out they both have AIDs so they can bang about it. and just before this is a spoken word poem song i used to dissociate during as a child but it’s so bad i’ve looped around to loving it as an adult bc yeah thats what live art is like

and it’s the best musical in the world

[griffincloud]

I just bought all your stickers!! if i may suggest some characters i would say frostpaw, moonpaw, dovewing, and bristlefrost :3 i would buy them so fast

Thank you so much omg?? I gotta pack them when I get home since I'm heading to class but ty for the suggestions! I haven't read past The Apprentice's Quest unfortunately so I'd like to catch up on the newer books if I was to make merch of the newer characters, but Dovewing is a character I love so she'd be cool to look into

[chao-mp3]

I can't explain how much I love the fact that the term "cardverse" is associated mainly with hetalia, even tho its just a name for an au you could use in literally any fandom, and I've seen people do that, but at the end of the day, it will allways mainly be hetalia

[revoltinglesbians]

research projects continue to haunt me. i will forever know an unnatural amount about so many random ass topics. sick!

[quatregats]

Honestly The Dragon King might literally just be a very long allegory for anger issues

[skyburger]

im probably never gonna watch the kenobi series but i did just find out there was a qui-gon scene so i went to find that. it was awesome btw i have a soft spot for qui-gon. but then in the recommended i saw it... vader vs. obi-wan in that series and i watched it and

[jamiecaniglia]

[sesamie]

clem oh my god both my band directors are leaving this year and I'm so so so so so scared. they don't even know what we're gonna do for marching band next year. they have no pieces. we don't have a theme = we have no flags. no flags means just a stick. I can't be just a stick!!!!!!!!!

never fear my dear here is what i have to say to this: i haven't had the same band and choir directors for any of my three years of high school so far - they keep leaving and getting hired and leaving and whatnot, nobody sticks around. things seem relatively stable now, but it was pretty turbulent while things kept changing. i have no idea how big the marching production at your school is (my school is tiny and has no such thing as the huge cool field-show type marching band, but we do a parade once or twice a year!) so there could be much bigger implications for your band changing hands, but just know that i got through it eventually and you can too!!! it was a really big adjustment for me but if you still have a lot of the same friends in your band then a new director feels a lot easier to handle. and if you don't, then gosh i don't know, i wish you luck, take it as a learning experience?

that being said new directors are definitely scary. i had a director for a tiny period of time (just three days) that was so different to any director i've had before that it fundamentally changed how i understand music. it's crazy stuff!!!

[kaijuno]

Life really does align in weird ways.

My bully from 5th grade who snapped my glasses in front of his friends just found me on social media a few weeks ago.

He wrote me a long apology saying how he was now a father to a 3 year old little girl and was taking her to get her first pair of little glasses in the next few days—and it brought back what he did. He said couldn’t ever handle the idea of someone doing that to her.

My first instinct was to tell him to get lost, but I realized I was getting what I always prayed for. I just wanted the people who were mean to me to eventually understand it—even if it took a personal experience to relate to and 14 years to open their eyes.

A piece of me healed in that moment as I gave him glasses advice for his daughter because I was the same age when I got my first pair.

Kids are really ruthless, but it takes a healed adult to reach out to apologize. And there is always time to change; it’s never too late.

[nightvale359]

You think if i send my friend a link to the beyblade i want she’ll get me one for christmas

[raeygina-george]

i can't find the melted chocolate post i made which is so terrible bc its expiration anniversary is tomorrowww

[rainbowbokchoy]

flashback to that one time I wrote a y/n fanfiction about van gogh in the 5th grade for an assignment that eternally and emotionally attached to him

DOCTOR WHO • S05E10 ❝Vincent and the Doctor❞

[imnotgrimimjustagrumpyreaper]

Every time I remember hypervelocity stars I melt into a puddle of tears on the floor and am inconsolable for hours.

[this-doesnt-endd]

Thinking about the time in fifth grade where someone wrote the word bed as ded by mistake and my teacher got mad cause “you’re in fifth grade you should never be mixing up d’s and b’s” and that “there is no such think as a mistake its just laziness” like girl we were 10

[lizzobetumblin]

Melissa hated her feelings. 

She buried them in a chest in the 5th grade (along with her ability to express them). Other peoples' feelings on the other hand was her forte. She could process, decipher and regurgitate other peoples emotions effortlessly. This gift could’ve taken her through college, all the way to a degree in psychology. Distinguished Dr. Jefferson with a PhD and a cozy office and impressive roster of high-profile, weallthy clients was a shiny idea. Fate would have a different hand for Melissa her talents were exhausted on mediating family fights, friend group drama, and charming her way out of confronting her own feelings. 

“Feelings.” Even saying it out loud to herself seemed silly. Something reserved for ‘cry babies’ and water signs. Typical Sunday nights started tame, reading or writing fan-fiction and drinking cranapple juice. And then like clock work her father would yell her name, 

‘MELISSA!!!’ Emotionless, she’d get up dust off her Winnie the Pooh shorts and make her way downstairs. On the long walk down the hall to the stairs leading to the living room brawl, she’d go through her check list: 

1.) Don’t cry.   

 2.) Stay neutral; Deescalate

3.)Don’t take anything personal. This isn’t about you

She padded down the carpeted stairs in her old soft socks to see her mother tightlipped and tear streaked thinking, 

‘she broke rule number 1’. Her father, Michael was proud and angry, his big belly filled with self righteousness. She knew he would be unyielding in his resolve and at this point her only option was to deescalate.

 ‘Rule number 2’. Then her sister the water sign and calamity for the evening sat on the floor nearly fetal, face red and raw with emotion. 

‘Its not your fault’ Melissa wanted to say ‘You just didn’t follow the rules… you’re loved.’ But she couldn’t say that because she’d be breaking rule number 3. It wasn’t about how Melissa felt. Even though she felt like screaming,

“VANESSA, YOU DIDN’T DO ANYTHING WRONG. DAD—YOU JUST HAVE PENT UP ANGER BECAUSE YOU GREW UP IN THE HOOD OF DETROIT AS A BLACK MAN IN THE 60s AND 70s. YOU NEED A HEALTHY OUTLET LIKE.. I DONT KNOW… THERAPY?!?!?! THIS IS A WASTE OF ALL OF OUR TIME. I LITERALLY JUST WROTE THE BEST SAILOR SATURN x CHIBI USA FANFICTION EVER AND THIS IS KILLING MY VIBE!”

Instead, she decide to hear every one out. She decided to help. To calm her dragon of a father down. To be a translator for her emotional sister. To not take it personal. To stay neutral. To not cry. 

9 years later, at her fathers funeral she still never broke the rules. She played her flute and spoke at his memorial. She was present for her mother because it wasn’t about her. When other peoples' emotions bubbled up she stayed neutral. She sat through both services and she did not cry. It wasn’t until she excused herself to make a phone call outside did she collapse onto the stairs of the funeral home and weep alone in the cold Detroit snow. 

It’s okay to break the rules sometimes, she reminded herself. As long as no one else sees it.

Traumas began to compact on Melissa, as they do. Humans tend to collect traumas like pebbles on a long hike. We toss them into our backpacks and keep moving forward. Some hikers would falter, but Melissa was built for this. She’d carried the stones of her family’s traumas uphill for years. She was strong. 

When men began to befriend and reject her, saying ‘you’re too good for me’ but not too good to make them feel good. She carried that. 

When childhood friends began to cut off the strings of her heart, saying ‘We can’t be friends anymore’. She carried that.

When her family separated like dandelion seeds, it seemed like they’d never be together again. Melissa slept on so many couches, floors and car seats sometimes she didn’t know if she’d see them again. 

She carried that. 

Dying was never an option though sometimes she didn’t mind the thought of it. Peace and warmth were two things she’d desperately yearned and hadn’t felt fully since the womb. Then one night in the pitch black of the hot, sweaty, roach-infested studio in southeast Houston she slept in she wondered:

‘Why can’t I break the rules?’ She’d seen everyone else in her life break them like popsicle sticks. And she didn’t just want to break the rules, she wanted to break them boldly and loudly and annoyingly and honestly and sloppily like every one else gets to do. It was in that moment, tucked in a thin jacket inside of an 8-foot high instrument cubby in the inky darkness—it hit her. 

‘Is my suffering for a high purpose? Or is my suffering trying to kill me?’ 

She cried. 

She escalated. 

She took it personal. 

But it wasn’t enough. She wanted to scream in a microphone in a sea of shadowy faces. She drank whiskey and wove her pain into rock music. 

‘Music is my boyfriend’ she declared. The only man that kept his baggage to hisself. And it healed her. It gave her voice reason and purpose. 

The pebble-laden hike became lighter with time. The incline eventually evened out to flat, beautiful landscapes where the breeze finally met her back. She knew it wasn’t gonna be easy or sunshine but even the rain cleansed her and it was beautiful too. 

Somewhere in the rain she decided rules were meant to be built and broken. Like trust and love and friendships and families. Because every thing deserves the opportunity to change and grow. 

So... She broke rule number 1 on stage while singing a beautiful song. Dr. Jefferson (PhD) screamed for her to stop but she didn’t listen and the tears flowed like rivers of emotion down her cheeks. 

Rule number 2 was broken when she grew older and saw the injustices of the world. Marching with hundreds in protest she realized not everything needs to be pacified. 

And one day when she finally fell in love, she broke rule number 3. No matter how much training she’d done she couldn't help but take every thing her lover said and did personal. But it was ok. Because in all her resistance she realized breaking rules was her power. 

Melissa began to fall for her feelings. Her feelings gave life purpose. They weren’t always logical, as feelings seldom are. They were sloppy and embarrassing and rude and so fucking uncomfortable. But they were hers. And they were real. And when she sat alone sipping wine, staring at the moon…They were the only ones still by her side. Ready to break the rules for her because they loved her. 

And she finally loved them back.