#fuck english homework

[beefshaker]

relaxing and taking a break from literary analysis (mandatory). Meanwhile i might partake in some literary analysis (voluntary)

[skhardwarevers1]

I feel like I’ve learned more vocabulary and strange writing techniques from Chonny than I have any English teacher in my life

[mintflavoredfemurs]

Had to do an English assignment on juxtaposition and I took my favorite boys and spent 2-3 hours total on em.

Hhhggh i need to sleep

[rubber-glovs]

Guys I just woke up and I'm still in bed, I haven't eaten breakfast yet, I haven't done SHIT. But yk what I have done???? FUCKING HOMEWORK I HATE THIS SHIT SO MUCH WTF WDYM YOU WANT ME TO WRITE A FUCKING ESSAY U CAN SUCK MY DICK FOR ALL I CARE AND WTF WHY IS EACH HW TAKE A FUCKING HOUR LONG I HATE MY FUCKING LIFE

[pyromaniacbibliophile]

tumblr stop tumblring i need to english homework

[capybaraonabicycle]

I just thought of the worst possible combination of characters :D

[ID: left image: Grace Chastity clutching a folder and holding a sign that says "Cancel Homec*mming! Don't dance with temptation!". Right image: Clara Oswald standing in a door saying "Who asks for homework? Amateur." end ID]

I honestly don't know who would win in a fight just that there would be a fight. They would annoy each other SO much. From day one. Please let them be teacher and student. I know Clara doesn't teach older students but please. Her and the Doctor could be investigating the deaths Grace's rampage brings about or something.

Clara would crack jokes in class about making out with Jane Austen and Grace would try to jump her (violently. with the intent to kill.) Grace would pester Clara consistently. About homecoming. About homework. About people cheating in class. All things Clara would NOT care about and hate that she has to take care of it anyway. Grace would try to kill her after a week and when that doesn't work (plot armour TM) she would try to get her fired. Clara would stop calling on her in class, no matter how much she raised her hand.

Clara would be so lost with how to handle her (and also would NOT want to bother, she has a murder case to solve for heaven's sake), to the point that Grace is completely convinced she is absolutely incompetent. And then they would come face to face for real, trying to stop Grace from committing the murders - and probably exorcising the Lords in Black from Grace or something - and Clara would get to be her badass clever self. And Grace would be like 'damn THAT was behind all that carelessness? Why didn't I get that in class?!' finally having the respect for Clara she deserves.

They're just so similar yet so different. They are both control freaks who don't have their life under control AT ALL. They are both SO ready to throw hands and do extreme stuff at the drop of a hat. They're also very prone to lying to try to keep in control. They're both incredibly selfish and self obsessed.

But Grace is a prude (with an agenda) and Clara is sex-positive. Clara is generally trying to be a good person, Grace does NOT care. Clara needs to be hero, Grace is very happy being the antihero as long as she gets to decide and doesn't have to feel the repercussions.

They would clash so beautifully. Someone please write that fic <3

[ourtinyhotel]

the english homework is calling

[nonbinarylesbianherb]

my brain trying to stop me from writing fanfics instead of studying

[recycledcactus]

you are coming down with me

anytime me and an irl friend mention anything about dying we both just go "hand in unlovable hand"

[hella1975]

ive got an essay due at 3pm tomorrow and ive not even looked at it i am so so unserious about my degree and by the grace of some higher being i somehow keep managing to crawl through it's actually getting a bit funny

[unicornsaures]

oh my god i need to stop going onto tumblr after writint a single sentence. Doli this is why you cant get shit done

[vbs-kaitos-big-naturals]

its really fucked up how i cant just go to classes and have fun and practice if i feel i need it and instead i need to do assignments or else they will call me bad at existing and everyone will hate me for inconveniencing them. and it sucks that the assignments make me so stressed i just dont do them anymore because im afraid yall i am so afraid

[olivers-cocoapuffs]

@loaf-of-soup ^_^

Evan looks away from his sisters tristful eyes, brimming with tears threatening to over flow. It takes everything in him not to cave, not to hunt down whoever dare hurt his little sister.

Because this time he’s at fault for Pandora’s heartbreak.

Evan got a stupid fucking tattoo because he chose his best friend and boyfriend over his baby sister. Over himself.

“I can’t save us.” Pandora chokes out, clinging to Evans hand desperately. Like she can stop him from walking away.

“Save yourself.” Evan whispers back, pulling away from her. He knows that if he doesn’t leave now, he won’t ever leave.

“I love you Vee.” Pandora calls after him, and Evan stops where he stands.

He exhales shakily. “I love you too, Dora.”

[achaotichuman]

Consuming

This is an original piece, I made. 2nd POV. Entails a character who sees and feels death around them and what happens when they finally meet them.

Trigger Warning- Slight horror and gore.

You’d seen death before. 

Knocking on the window, standing in the corridor. Waiting outside of hospitals you drove past. You’d always known it was there. 

Okay, maybe you hadn’t seen death himself. But you could feel his presence. Looming over the cradle of your dying baby brother. Standing in the corridor that let to your grandmother’s bedroom. Waiting at hospitals that housed the sick and injured. 

When your brother died you were sitting up in your bed. You had awoken because of a strange dream. You had been jumping on a trampoline, when you flipped you never hit the netting below. Rather you floated, staring at the sky as it began to erupt in a lightshow of flames. Fire fell down upon, lighting up the trees and consuming the earth. You felt at home in the heat. 

Your body jolted awake, and as you looked over across the room, to the old cradle that had been put in your room. You felt him. Standing there. You imagine what he looked like. Maybe like in the movies with a black coat and scythe. You thought about what his skin would look like. Maybe pale as the white cotton sheets squeezed between your then small chubby fingers. Or perhaps darker than your brown teddy bear, fallen to the floor from your thrashing sleep. 

When your brother’s breath was stolen, you felt ice in your veins. You didn’t remember what happened next, but then again it was so long ago. 

The next time you felt him was when your grandmother died. Middle of the afternoon with the lazy sunlight gleaming in through the windows. Splattering across your face, you felt its warmth as something distant, when the coldness overtook you again. Locking your limbs in place. You knew he was here as the panic throbbed through your chest. But what is a six-year-old to do when they feel something is wrong but are too young to understand what death is? You knew he was there but understood him as a child understood how math worked. It simply was something, a concept but not registered as something important to them. 

So you stared, as your mother passed you to bring your grandmother soup, she had been feeling ill lately. You listened to her open the door and call her mother, then ask again in a more panicked tone. Before the sound of the soup bowl shattering to the ground rang through the house. Your mother began to scream and you began to cry. 

Yes, you had seen death before. But not like this. You had observed him, watched him, felt him. Like winter passing through the world. But you had never met him. 

You were in a dream, you knew you were. Everything was nothing like the real world. 

You stood in a corridor. That same corridor. You heard a baby crying. Screaming, it was in pain, you felt it. You knew it in your veins. Panic was rising in your, begging for your body to go after the infant, but you could not move. Not even as you thrashed against invisible restraints. 

Death was nothing like what you thought. He was no mere man. 

You hadn’t used your life well. You had done horrible things, things that could be retold in a documentary. Or in some twisted up tv show. 

For that, you thought, this must be punishment. That your death would not be so kind. Your death would be brutal and slow. 

Down the corridor, it seemed never ending. The baby kept crying and you recognised it’s shrieks as your helpless brother, whom you had not even tried to save from the grip of death. 

From a door in the corridor. Slowly it creaked open. Tears were streaming down your face. Your vision was whiting in and out. 

You saw a head, a smile on it’s face. A smile too wide to be human. Reaching from ear to ear. It had no nose, but two eyes too small to be human. It stared at you, you stared at it. Unable to scream and unable to run. 

It’s neck became visible. 

It kept extending, out and out. A tentacle-like limb, it came towards you. Still smiling, still grinning like it enjoyed your thrashing. 

You tried to scream, you tried to scream so much you felt blood running down your throat, yet your mouth remained sealed shut. 

It stopped before you. It asked you, “Why are you here?”

You spoke, but the words were not yours. Like a puppet you were toyed with, like you had toyed with others in your life. Blood dribbled down your chin as you said, “For I am stained with blood that is not mine. For I was a creature unworthy of being called human.”

It’s sharp, bloodstained teeth glimmered in moonlight. Shining bright from the windows of the corridor. 

“Then as you consumed gluttony and hatred. I will consume you.”

It let you scream your pain and suffering as those gnashing teeth descended upon your skin. 

Yes you had seen death, you heard and felt him. 

Now you met him. 

And you truly felt him in every weeping part of your body, as he desecrated you. 

[felixrulezz]

i’m so fucking sick of school bc it’s the 4th fucking day and i was at school for six hours with no break bc i did homework during lunch then spent an hour and a half doing homework when i got home and im still not even fucking close to being done

[huh-1260]

What the fuck is a "anti thesis"