Rise Up, Oh Heart, For There is Another Battle to Win
Month
why are bras and period products so fucking expensive okay this shit pisses me off, it’s not like i asked for boobs or for my vagina to destroy itself every month
Edward was only 12 when he became a state alchemist, what are you doing with your life
well I have both arms so I think I’m doing pretty good
and my sibling remains in their own body so that’s a plus for me
I’m tall
my mom isn’t dead
My dad lives with me
my house remains unburnt and intact
this is a post for every person w gender issues ever
- one day you’ll find the pronouns and name and clothing and niche that fits u comfortably
- until then,and whether you have or haven’t, you’re a lovely lovely person and you deserve happiness
- there’s nothing wrong with you
- and nothin’ wrong with experimenting
- and nothing wrong with changing your mind
- and people love u
- and u love people
- and i hope the world is good to you because you deserve it
Gwen Sharp
(via cclbaldwin)
a guy at school today was wearing this damn fine red nail polish and I heard these two girls whispering angrily and looking in his direction so I listened in expecting them to be weird about it and the first thing I hear is “how the HELL did he get it so good did he get it professionally done or something you need to ask him where he found that colour jesus fucking christ are you KIDDING me”
I think this is a good example of how the world should work.
As a bisexual, it sickens me that some people WILL keep scrolling.
As the straight daughter of a gay man, it sickens me that some people will keep scrolling.
As a straight girl with a basic understanding of equality and love, it also sickens me that people will keep scrolling.
As a straight Christian woman, I pray that people will not scroll past this. Love, not judge.
I’m re-reblogging for that last one.
oh god.
The pacer is a test in gym class/PE that brings a shiver of despair down the spine of any unfortunate soul who has gone through it before. And it’s usually done at least once a year.
Students line up on one side of the gym, eyeing nervously the painted line before the opposite wall that will decide their fate. The teacher hits play on the stereo and a cheery woman’s voice echoes through the gymnasium. fuck that woman’s happy demeanor. She explains the rules as the kids wait anxiously. Get to the other line before the beep plays. Simple enough, right?
“Ready? Begin!” she calls, and the gut wrenching ‘beep!’ plays after.
The kids awkwardly half jog to the other line, with about 3 or 4 seconds before the next beep. Each time the horrendous noise plays they run back and forth to the lines. “Level one, complete” she says, as to pat you on the back for what little victory you’ve achieved.
Not bad, the kids think. But then comes level 2. level 3. With each interval the time between the beeps shorten, and you’re running as fast as you can to the other line. Your foot hits it, you pivot, the beep plays, youre running again. Your lungs burn, your throat is sore, your heart is on the verge of an attack. No rest. No mercy.
A girl is the first to crawl over to the instructor, defeated. Seeing one has fallen, other students begin to follow since “at least theyre not the first ones out”. Clutching their chests they bail out of the test. One girls crying. You can’t tell if the boy on the gym floor is alive or not. Three kids left for the water fountain and still havent made it back.
And then, the fallen sit there, watching the myths, the legends, the kids who have made it past 100 laps. 120. 150. When they finally collapse a cheer erupts from the students. Theyre heroes.
But the excitement only lasts for so long as the next round of nervous kids line up, who opted to go in the second wave and prolong their torture. The womans voice kicks back up. The beep plays. The cycle continues.
Well let me tell you, it was quite the pragmatic purchase. It has endless uses in my morning routine.
Such as making the bed:
Making toast:
Getting things off high shelves:
Making coffee:
Reaching the remote when it’s too far away:
And assisting me when I ran out of toilet paper:
I don’t know how I survived life without it.
No comment necessary.
You are my hero.
after more than a year… I need to reblog it again. Because.
is there a word for “i’m okay but it’s a fragile kind of okay so be gentle with me”?
I nominate ‘I’m eggshell fine’. Currently whole but easily crushed again.
raise your hand if you’ve ever been disgusted by your own fandom…
if you don’t raise your hand, chances are you’re the one your fandom is disgusted with
So my name is Joey White and I’m a very pasty pale British white guy at uni overseas. So I was introducing myself and this guy from Nigeria goes “Hi, I’m Joseph” so I said, “I’m a Joseph too! Joseph White.” Then he looked me in the eye and said in a dead serious tone “I’m Joseph Brown” and we nearly died.
oh dear god
soft satan
sad satan
little ball of rage
sassy satan
sammy satan
why did you kill gabe
:(
crying
Soft Cas,
Sad Cas,
Giving Dean a call.
External imageHungry Cas,
Clueless Cas,
External imageWatch your family fall.
IT GOT WORSE HOW IS THAT EVEN POSSIBLE
Soft Sammy
Sad Sammy
Hiding All That Pain
Happy Sammy
Sleepy Sammy
Watch Him Go Insane
It just got worse.
once upon a time, i was in an honors english class as a sophomore in high school, and we covered the great gatsby
and once a day, every day, one young man would say, in the exact same inquisitive tone of wonder,
“wait a minute! is nick gay for gatsby?”
until finally, one day, our teacher shouted, “YES NICK IS GAY FOR GATSBY BUT I CAN’T TEACH YOU THAT BECAUSE THIS IS A CATHOLIC SCHOOL.”
Let’s play a game.
Type the following words into your tags box, then post the first automatic tag that comes up.
you, also, what, when, why, how, look, because, never
….. I evidently have an allcaps problem.
