True Story



they ask you about being a student and this is what it’s like: you get home from school feeling more exhausted than you did yesterday but not as exhausted as you’ll feel tomorrow and that’s just how it is. that’s how things go and you walk through the front door and you trudge up the stairs like you do every day and think maybe today you’ll take all those pills you’ve got hidden in the bathroom but then you remember you have four important tests tomorrow so that means killing yourself is not an option for today or maybe that means it’s more of an option but before you can figure that out you’ve already walked past the bathroom so there’s no point in walking back. might as well stay in your room and study.

it’s not like your physical or mental health even matters, you don’t even question anymore if it does. you’re too busy maintaining your gpa and writing scholarship essays and running two different clubs and participating in sports and band and choir or whatever else it is and you know that these activities are supposed to be fun, they’re supposed to be what you like, but nowadays they feel more like an obligation because colleges won’t consider you if all you have is good grades. no, that’s not enough, and you can’t help feeling that everything else isn’t enough either. you are not enough and you cry and cry but then stop crying when the headache occurs because how are you going to be productive while you have a headache?

anyways nothing is about you anymore, not really. you either don’t have time for activities you enjoy or said activities are no longer enjoyable because everything is an obligation now. that’s just how it is, and every single day you fulfill every single obligation, feeling more and more like you’re preparing for a future when that’s really the opposite of what you want.

but then again if you don’t have a future, if that future ends today, you won’t fulfill all your obligations tomorrow and maybe that’s a good thing but maybe it’s not, so you just keep living out of pure indecisiveness.

school may have taught you many things, but how to keep living was not one of them. it didn’t teach you how to be happy or how to love yourself and even though you were self-taught many scientific theories and ideas, things like happiness and self-love were not concepts you could ever fully comprehend on your own so nowadays you don’t even try to and oh why are you still here, this is not a productive usage of your time, you have four important tests tomorrow and those should come before everything else.

—  memoirs of a high school valedictorian // k.m. (via @perceivingwords)

The Breeding of American Slaves: True Stories of American Slave Breeding and Slave Babies. The reproduction of slaves to increase the wealth of slaveholders by coerced sex, sexual relations between master and slave to produce slave children, and favoring female slaves who produced large number of children. The purpose of slave breeding was to produce new slaves without incurring the cost of purchase and after termination of the Atlantic slave trade. Slaves were viewed as subhuman chattel.

antebellamy asked:

bellarke + boarding school au :))

Clarke is a senior and she hates the universe because of course when she finally decides to take that advanced English class they pick an unfairly hot grad student with amazing hair and bright eyes behind black glasses to be the Walden Writer-In-Residence Fellow instead of the usual stodgy wrinkled white-haired grandfather type. He’s working with their class to improve their writing and she knows she’s tempting fate (and something more dangerous) by going to his office hours so often, but it’s better if she stares at his hands and his freckles when it’s just the two of them instead of in the presence of the entire class. He’s nothing but cordial and professional with her, and she respects herself and him and his mind too much to do anything reckless. 

Their time at Arkadia Academy both ends when the air turns balmy and the trees lining the brick pathways and green quads bloom with white flowers, and she isn’t thinking of anything but her bright future when she walks across that stage even though she knows he’s in the audience.

(When they run into each other in a bar four years later though, things are different. Then, oh then, she does something reckless, but the timing is right and he is there to catch her. Bellamy–she still loves the way she can say his first name without guilt now–catches her as she falls head over heels for him, because he is right there falling in love with her too.)

Send me Bellarke + [a word] - I’ll write a headcanon

 Ten year’s ago I meet a very angry teenager. A girl with a chip on her shoulder and a story to tell. I didn’t want to talk to you at first, you where “Friends” with someone who had burned me pretty bad. (As burning’s happen in high school) But our class had some free time and you’re story sounded super cool. Little did you know that month’s earlier I had a gun in my mouth, I started the day before not knowing why I even bothered to go to school. My life was falling apart and I saw no future in myself.

After that one talk we started meeting up in the mornings, musing with friends we had no idea knew both of us. Found out we had classes close to one and other. At that time you had no idea that you started give me a little ray of happiness. You’re face was always bright when you saw me, you gave me a reason to get out of bed. Yah I had other friends but none of them cared like you. I am still sorry I pushed so hard to get you to do MacBeth with me but not sorry for what it gave us.

We both go a bunch of small roles which gave us so much free time. We talked, laughed and grew closer. You helped me with my lines and I helped you with make up. We where falling in love but we had no word to call it at the time. Everyone else saw it and soon it became a weapon against us, but we fought together. You became my first real hug, my first real kiss. My first taste of freedom. With you I felt like I could do anything and everything.

We went to the fall festival together and I regretted every moment my “best” friend was there because I just wanted to be close to you.

I had this drive to touch you, be near you. Hug and kiss and hold you. You gave me my first piece of warm clothing, and that ray of light kept growing. Then it happened, I snapped and cried in your basement. I spilled my heart to you about my abuse and you held me and promised to protect me. In that moment we became one heart and that red string was so tight around our fingers I thought they would fall off. I was attacked and you protected me, you gave me up so much to make sure I would have a safe home after I was 18, you helped me pass high school and do things I never thought I would do.

You where my date to prom, even if we where not dating. It was still a night that I hold dear. Finding out we had meet before. Now that blew my mind, because the world seems so big and yet we are always reminded how small it really is. You where a bully, an angry young girl with a chip on her shoulder much like you did then. But your chip was there for a reason and my gods how you have grown. How you have over come so much in these last ten years. 

Those two months we had to wait till my birthday where so long, she did everything to keep us apart. I stayed with my grandfather and we talked for hours on the phone and online when his internet would work. Hah, I longed for your arms. I wanted to feel you kiss the side of my head and sing wicked off key in the car. When I saw you at the fair I wanted to fly to you. And I swear to the gods I did. You held me and I was home. In that moment you became home to me.

I feel like I don’t tell you this even but my god I am so proud of you for everything you have over come. You are my hero.

Over the last ten year’s we have fought so many demons, we learned so much about one and other. We where in love even if we couldn’t call it love for so long. We dated others, we grew up but never apart. Always side by side, one was never with out the other. Then we had to finally give in, we gave our love a name. That name was Us. Simple, sweet and what we had always been Us. Slowly we came out to our friends and then you took the plunge and told almost all of your family. Some will never know and its better that way. 

It hasn’t been easy and we have had to face new hard wishes with becoming us. But I like us.

Us is, love.

Us is, home.

Us is sitting up till early morning going over movie plots, book plots.

Us is comic con and cosplay.

Us is our worst fights and our hottest deepest most intimate moments. 

Us is holding hands in public and sharing kisses.

Us is when we make bad jokes and die laughing.

Us is crying, learning loving and growing.

Ten year’s have come and gone but in that moment ten year’s ago, when a scared girl who honestly and truely had nothing to live for took a chance to make a friend. We sparked Us and Us is my favorite story to tell.

Here is to ten more year’s of Us, twenty more year’s of Us. Us for the rest of our lives. No matter what hardships or troubles come our way. Because I have you and you have and together we make Us.


when ur trying to get your friends to listen to twenty one pilots.



Shout out to the beautiful girl wearing headphones, lipstick, and a blue coat on the 1 line southbound subway:

the smiles we exchanged across the crowded car gave me twitterpated butterflies in my stomach. And when you guided me to your open seat as you got off and kissed my cheek, my heart glowed and my cheeks blushed. You made my day and I hope I see your lovely face again some day. Happy Valentines Day ♥️