and that other thing is pizza

Science Partners (Peter Parker x Reader)

A/N: With all of the Homecoming hype, I figured I would write another little thing about our cute web-slinger. Enjoy!! xx

Warnings: cute, cute, cuTE, and the cheesiest of tropes

Originally posted by jessikaort

It was a new year. A new year of hell. Peter always did fairly well in his classes, especially his science classes, but he still hated the idea of being invisible as he navigated the crowds of hormonal teenagers. He also hated listening to guys and girls complain about broken phones when he had to worry about broken bones as he kept the streets safe. 

He didn’t hate school quite as much, however, when he walked into chemistry and saw you. You were a new student and you sat perched on a stool, alone at a back table. Your hair shone in the sunlight that streaked through the classroom window. Peter would swear that your eyes glittered like (Y/E/C) jewels when your eyes met his. You flashed him a shy smile before looking away. It was only for a moment but Peter was undeniably head-over-heels. 

“Parker,” the teacher barked. Peter snapped his head to look at the teacher. He gripped the strap of his backpack nervously. “It is nice of you to finally join us. For the rest of the year, I think it would be kind to your new science partner that you arrive on time.” The teacher gestured to you with one liver-spotted hand. 

Peter’s heart leaped into his throat as he willed his feet to move towards you. He placed his bag down with a thud and nervously took the stool next to you. “I’m (Y/N),” you whispered, tapping his shoulder lightly. 

“I’m Peter!” he blurted out as the teacher was going over the syllabus. His face went as red as a tomato and a few students snickered. The teacher shot him a threatening glare before continuing. You smiled and giggled lightly, pink creeping up your cheeks. 

The entire hour, Peter kept stealing glances at you. Everything about you was perfect. The shape of your lips, the color of your eyes, the rise of your cheek bones, the curve of your nose. An oral pop quiz was given and Peter was impressed by your intelligence. You raised your hand for almost every question and every time you were right. 

Every now and then you would catch Peter staring. Your heartbeat was rapid the entire class period. His chocolaty brown gaze made your breath hitch and your stomach flutter. When he wasn’t looking, you would also steal glances. His jaw clenched in concentration. His messy hair fluttered in his eyes. His surprisingly defined arms and chest moved gracefully under his sweater. 

Towards the end of class, the teacher handed out a list of various labs you could choose from to get yourself acquainted with the lab. You looked over the purple paper and looked up at Peter who was staring directly at you. His chin was propped up on his hand and he had a dazed smile on his face. “So, um, Peter, what do you think?” you asked.

“I think you’re amazing,” he mumbled. His eyes grew wide as he realized what he said. You looked away, hoping to hide the intense blush on your cheeks. “I.. I mean no, well, yes, you are, but I, uh…” You could say that Peter was saved by the bell, for the high pitched school bell began to ring and Peter was out the door before anyone else. You stared at the empty stool and your shoulders drooped a little. This was going to be an interesting year. 

Peter made his way to the lunch room, trying to block out the embarrassing image of him making a fool of himself. He somberly waited in line for his lunch and then took his usual seat with his friend, Ned. “New year, dude. New year means new girls,” Ned said, nudging Peter’s shoulder. Peter just slowly shook his head, staring down at his grease soaked pizza. “What’s wrong with you?”

“I met the new girl,” Peter mumbled. 

“Dude, tell me about her! Is she that bad that so you’re like this now?”

Peter shook his head once more. “No, Ned. She’s astounding. She’s so intelligent and she made this really funny joke in class and her face… Ned, her face. She’s the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever seen. And she’s my science partner..” Peter went on and on with great enthusiasm about you. Ned encouraged it. 

You walked into the lunch room, gripping your bagged lunch and looking around nervously. You finally found who you were looking for and made a bee-line for the table. “And Ned, her shirt fit in all of the right…”

“Um, Peter?” you interrupted nervously, standing behind him as Ned eyed you humorously. You saw his shoulders tense and his ostentatious hand gestures freeze in mid-air. He slowly turned in his seat and looked up at you. “You forgot this in chemistry,” you held up the hand not holding your lunch to show Peter’s backpack. 

He gingerly took the bag from you, his fingertips brushing against your hand. You would laugh at yourself later but you could have sworn you felt sparks when his hand touched yours. “Thank you,” he mumbled, looking into your eyes. You could feel a heat creeping up your neck and you gripped your lunch nervously.

“Would you like to sit with us?” Ned piped up, breaking your attention away from Peter’s gold-flecked eyes. 

You flashed him a smile, and nodded. “Yes, thank you,” you stammered. 

“You wouldn’t mind, Pete, right?” Ned winked at him. 

“Not… Not at all,” Peter said, scooting over so you could sit next to him. You made yourself comfortable as you slid in next to your cute new lab partner. Your shoulders brushed together and Peter cleared his throat. 

“So, (Y/N), I’m Ned. Peter has told me a lot about you.” Peter angrily took a bite out of his pizza. You giggled shyly and began unpacking your lunch. “Peter here is very good at chemistry with other people, just so you know.” The boy in question let out a very angry sigh, his jaw clenching. You bit your lip and saw that Ned was playing wing-man. 

“Is he now?” you asked, sounding intrigued. “Maybe you could show me a thing or two… In the lab, of course.” Peter perked up but continued to stare down at his food. 

“So, (Y/N), have you ever studied anatomy?” Ned asked, waggling his eyebrows at you and nodding towards Peter. You suppressed a giggle as you felt Peter kick him under the table. 

You made sure to flutter your eyelashes a little as you looked sideways at the very embarrassed boy and said, “The human body happens to be a.. main interest of mine.”

Peter almost choked on his milk and you couldn’t help but let out a laugh. Ned roared with laughter and Peter was once again bright red. “He’ll get this flirting thing down eventually,” Ned said through fits of laughter, patting your hand reassuringly. “So, where ya from?”

Ned made pleasant conversation the rest of the lunch period and Peter gradually came out of his shell. You could tell that you would become fast friends with the two boys and your feelings for Peter had already begun to take root. Peter, at one point, even attempted a pick-up line. 

“What lab were you thinking of doing?” you asked Peter. 

“Well,” he began, puffing out his chest and looking at you through half-lidded eyes, “I was thinking we could mix copper and tellurium because you’re CuTe.”

“Impressive, Peter,” you said with a giggle. He looked very proud of himself for the “effectiveness” of his flirting. The lunch bell rang and all three of you stood up to leave. “Well, I’ll see you in gym, Peter. See you tomorrow, Ned!” you shouted over your shoulder. 

“Gym, huh? You guys can be gym partners! You can help her with her squats, spot that a… ouch, dude!” Peter punched Ned’s shoulder as he was talking. Peter watched you walk away, a soft smile on his face. You glanced once more over your shoulder and flashed a gorgeous smile at Peter. Peter was not going to hate school at all this year. 


A/N: This ended up a little longer than I expected. Also, this is set up perfectly to become a series! What do you guys think? Would you want that? Let me know and send in requests!! xx

Meet the Interns: Kaytlin

Stuff I like: I like any and all things Disney, tiny houses on wheels, reading, Nashville hot chicken, writing, Pinterest, sketching, dancing while cleaning, the color maroon, sloths, contraptions that make organizing my life easier, traveling, the Enneagram, hot tea (preferably hibiscus blends), hiking, sleeping in frigid rooms with lots of blankets, poetry (especially by Erin Hanson), strange documentaries, remembering useless and seemingly unrelated information, candles, being dared to do things, dogs, little dogs, big dogs, macaroni and cheese, writing letters with flair pens, Breyer’s vanilla bean ice cream, my planner, bubble baths, Christmas and Halloween, cinnamon roasted almonds, fluffy cats named Gwitey, pizza with melty cheese and jalapenos, aquariums, museums, Dr. Pepper, popcorn, analyzing other people’s laughs, the beach, and road trips.

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TalesFromThePizzaGuy: Gluten does bad things to people

I’ve worked as a wage slave cashier at a mediocre pizza buffet for several years now, and I’ve encountered more than my fair share of irrational customers, but the one I dealt with today really takes the cake. Here goes:

A lady strolled into my store around 5 o'clock with two other customers. I rang them up and entered a coupon that the lady handed me. I also activated a rewards card for the lady and ran through the basic layout of the buffet with her, since this was her first time eating at my store. Completely normal exchange that I have multiple times a shift.

Then, almost immediately after I finished ringing her up, the lady returned to my register to tell me that she needed a gluten-free pizza prepared for her. I informed her that, unfortunately, gluten-free pizzas have to be purchased in full off the menu for about the price of an adult buffet. I then said that I would be happy to have my manager void our first transaction and ring up a gluten-free pizza for her, pointing out that she might end up saving a dollar or so in the process. She sneered something along the lines of “it’s a little late for that, don’t you think?” in my direction and walked away. I felt terrible for approximately 4 seconds before I realized that I couldn’t care less about this customer or her problems, so I continued on with my shitty day.

About fifteen minutes later, the lady strutted back up to me and flicked her recently-activated rewards card onto the front desk, saying “I won’t be needing this anymore” in the most passive-aggressive tone I’ve ever heard before returning to her table. I instantly recognized this as her attempt to make me feel bad by implying that she’ll never return to my store, which was funny to me, because I would’ve left this store for good months ago if I weren’t so desperate for money.

Anyways, a little while later, I began to notice that the lady was dishing up a decent amount of pizza from the buffet, which surprised me considering her apparently debilitating gluten allergy.

The lady eventually returned to the front desk once again while I was halfway through a phone order. She stood there with her arms folded, waiting for me to hang up. Once I did, she told me she wanted to speak to my manager without even looking in my direction.

I retrieved my manager from the kitchen and introduced her to the lady, who instantly started tearing into me and my apparently lackluster service. First, she accused me of incorrectly applying her coupon to the original ticket; fortunately, my manager stood up for me and told her that she just didn’t read the coupon correctly.

Then, she had the audacity to say that I rang her up for a normal buffet knowing that she was allergic to gluten and refused to correct my mistake, while the exact opposite was true. She even said that all she’d eaten was salad and soup even though I’d watched her dish up pizza with my own eyes. My manager apologized and refunded her entire meal, which really pissed me off. The lady started to walk away, but not before muttering something unflattering about me under her breath.

At this point, I arrived at a critical crossroads in my pizza career. I asked myself if I could justify freaking out at this lady if it would mean losing my job. Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it), my rational side took control and I kept my mouth shut as this witch of a human being slinked out of my store with the most aggravating smile on her face. I’ve never been closer to just giving up and quitting on the spot.

TLDR: Evil woman harrassed me for doing my job correctly.

PS: I know this story is far from the most interesting thing to be posted on this subreddit, but I felt like anyone who’s ever worked in the food industry could relate to my experience of dealing with an irrational customer. Hope you enjoyed.

By: Go_To_Bethel_And_Sin

i pretend to take a hardline stance on plain pizza but in reality I love like, a shit ton of other types of pizza. I do take a stand against pineapple and mushroom on pizza but most other things are alright with me. I like tomato, basil, garlic pizza probably more than the best slice of a plain ny style slice, white/broccoli pizza is bomb too. NY/NJ definitely have the best pizza in the entire country tho, we’re snobs about it cuz it’s true. Rest of ya’ll just gotta deal with that fact ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

11 Questions Tag

Rules:

1. Always repost the rules

2. Answer the random 11 questions posted for you

3. Create 11 new ones and tag 11 people

4. Let the person who tagged you know that you answered ( @sehhunie thank you for tagging me!!)

1. what was the last picture you took with your phone?

its literally my coffee from the other day bc im basic

2. what’s your favorite pizza topping?

i’m rlly plain, i just love cheese pizza

3. do you have any weird/odd talents?

hmmm it’s not a talent, but my pinkies are double jointed

4. what’s the worst thing you’ve ever eaten?

i can’t rlly think of anything right now, only thing i can think of is like beef jerkey but that’s bc i don’t eat beef

5. if you won the lottery, what would you do with the money you won?

probably put most of it toward college, and some luxuries, help my parents with expenses, that kind of thing!

6. what is your favorite language and why?

i think french, japanese, and korean are my favorite languages to listen to, they’re just really beautiful to me 

7. what’s your favorite season (winter, fall, spring, summer)?

spring

8. have you ever met any celebrities?

i met miranda cosgrove when i was like 9, she was nice, i also met a few bands @ festivals

9. do you hold grudges?

depends on what the grudge is for

10. what was the first kpop song that you heard?

i believe it was TVXQ’s mirotic! my sister had showed it to me when i was rlly young, but the first one that made me rlly get into kpop was SNSD’s i got a boy

11. choose one word to describe your ult bias!

passionate! (if you can’t tell.. my ult is yoongi)


my 11 questions

1. summer/spring or autumn/winter?

2. the first fandom you were in on tumblr?

3. long or short hair (on yourself or others)?

4. favorite color?

5. when is your birthday?

6. what places have you always wanted to visit?

7. which of your biases is closest to your “ideal type”? why?

8. favorite kpop concepts? 

9. how would you describe your style?

10. pastels or neons?

11. if you were in a band, what would your role be in the group?

tagging: @wonsikah @sunpeachs @cyypher @1freakey @mybinnie @softjiminstan @jonghyunbase @hanbit @purplejoonie @127cherrybomb @namartia (you guys don’t have to do it!) 

iwasapruneratfaverolles  asked:

PLEASE TELL THE CHILDREN THE STORY OF MS. STUBELS

Grace fuck, why would you invoke her name like that???

Okay, fine, gather round children, buckle up because we’re going on a bumpy ride back to everyone’s collective least favorite place: 7th grade.

Some background: I went to a very small Catholic school. One class per grade (we were the largest with 19 kids), everyone knew each other whether they wanted to or not. Despite basically every teacher and faculty members insistence that we were The Best And Most Special Class In The School and that everyone loved having us, the longstanding 7th grade teacher Mrs. O’Hara decided to retire in the summer of 2008, meaning the school had to find us a new teacher for the upcoming year. This would be like, the first new teacher in the school in a while, and as she was getting the ‘best class’, it was viewed as a Big Deal. Somewhere in like July or August we got a letter announcing Mrs. Stubel, and it came with a list of books to pick for the summer reading, and that was basically all the information we had.

So…the first day of class. She seems nice enough. Very…ditsy, I guess? It was very easy for her to get herself off topic while talking. She constantly paced around the room, never staying in one spot for longer than a second, complaining she has restless leg syndrome. Which like, I’m sure she did, but she was in the middle of introducing herself and then went on a 20 minute tangent about restless leg syndrome without anyone prompting her. It was almost like you could see her scattered thoughts flying around her head.

So anyone, she eventually gives somewhat of an introduction- she had only taught in public schools before, and kept worrying she ‘didn’t know’ how to teach in a Catholic school despite the entire class insisting literally nothing was different, you just teach the curriculum, twice a week we have religion class with Sister Mary King, that’s literally it (she still talked over us in worry), she told us about her kids, she told us about her obsession with Emily Dickinson, stuff like that.

And then she hands us this worksheet.

She’s like, “Oh, these are just some basic questions for you to answer! Just so I can get to know you guys better!” like in lieu of an icebreaker game, which is fine, but…the questions. The questions were all “What is your most haunting fear?”, “What is your deepest regret?”, “Have you ever experienced the pain of loss?”, “What was your worst injury?”, “What was your worst nightmare?”, all questions like that, and then on the back she wanted us to draw a gravestone and write out what we wanted our epitaph to be.

We were twelve year olds, mind you.

Oh my God and one girl missed the first day because of her grandmother’s funeral, so when she came the next day and saw what the teacher was insisting she do for homework, she almost had a panic attack? And the lady still made her do it? Literally who wants to think about death anymore at a time like that omfg.

Okay, so then we get to the summer reading book reports, right? Now, she had given a list of maybe, 20 books that you could pick from, read it, and then present an oral report on it. You had to have notecards and you had to be able to answer questions from the class at the end. All in all, I’ve had worse projects.

So, on this list, she apparently put Madeleine L’Engle’s entire book series on the list…only she did not make it known that this was a series and not multiple stand alone books, so when reports started up it caused mass-panic of kids trying to put together plot points and make connections on what the hell they had read.

I was the only kid in the class who had chosen to read “A Wrinkle In Time”, and that has since lead to a series of events that…really actually scares me, I’m still incredibly freaked out, I’m not going to get into it right now because it’ll take away from the current story, but just know that I’m not above wondering if it only happened because I read the book for Stubel.

Anyway, so like, I got through the report okay. The class asking questions about it was fine, but the teacher kept asking questions that didn’t make sense, like, at all. My friend Angie has always had super neat handwriting and Mrs. Stubel got like, obsessed with her notecards and asked if she could borrow them for something. When we got our grades back a few weeks later, Angie had points taken off for not having notecards.

And then her teaching just…didn’t happen. She’d never stay on a topic, she’d always get herself distracted! We were not learning anything. And like, this wasn’t a class of advanced smart kids that loved to learn. By all accounts we should’ve been thrilled. But it got out of hand. It got to points where we had to start teaching lessons to ourselves, asking teacher from other grades for help, always coming home in tears, complaining constantly to our parents and the principal because this woman wasn’t teaching us anything. There were two kids who asked her multiple times for extra help, and she told them each time to ‘talk to me after school’, but then she’d leave immediately after school so they wouldn’t be able to talk to her. They finally brought up the issue in the middle of class and she had a breakdown, yelling about how nobody ever thinks that maybe the teacher has a lot of work to do, and maybe she’s entitled to taking off early, but when we tried to argue she shouldn’t schedule meetings and then break them off in the name of relaxation, she stormed out of the room and tried to get the principal to give us detention. (Which, like, our school didn’t even do, and she was the only one in the wrong during this situation) We are still in September at this point, and already at least ten kids have parents considering transferring them to another school. (And remember, there was only 19 of us, and most of the class had been together since preschool, so that was a big deal).

Then, she starts coming in with all the weird bruises. All the Moms™ immediately started gossiping that her husband had to be beating her, and that’s why she was so screwy in the head. But the way she talked about her husband made it seem like he *might* be dead, and we actually did witness her fall and smack her head into a doorknob once, so no one really knew what to believe. (Also, I’m not trying to imply that abuse would make someone crazy or ‘damaged’ or anything, this is just what was being said. I think they were trying to turn her into a more sympathetic character, because if you feel sorry for her you don’t have to hate her for frustrating your kids so much, and Hate Is A Bad Emotion.)

Also…this woman and Emily Dickinson.

She talked about Emily Dickinson every chance she could get. None of us knew who Emily Dickinson really was before she got there and you could see in her mind it was a capitol offense. She found out the curriculum didn’t have room to cover her (because like, we had a text book), and was way too upset about it. She started reading her poems whenever she found the time (usually somewhere in history class), and always gave us very detailed accounts about her dressing up as Emily and reading her poetry at the library.

Now, two things to note here:

  1. The library did not hire her to do this. She would literally just get in the mood, put on an Emily Dickinson costume that she made by herself, drive to different libraries, and just read poetry out loud to everyone there until someone eventually asked her to leave.
  2. The way she described these events…her tone, the look on her face, her posture…you could just tell that she was getting some sort of sexual gratification out of this? Like dressing up as Emily Dickinson in public and reading her sad poems is really what got this lady’s jollies rocking? Got her all hot and bothered? Which is…a lot, but why would you tell a bunch of seventh graders about it holy shit. What about that sounds like a good idea! What about that turns you back on!

So anyway, we learned a lot about Emily Dickinson against our will.

One of the Davids™ was reading a book for pleasure- which shouldn’t have been a shocker, a lot of kids always had books on them, but Stubel got really interested and asked if she could borrow it from him. He was like ‘sure, after I finish it?’ but she took it that day. He asked her for it back for like five weeks straight.

And…the strudels.

Okay, so the school was trying some dorky thing to promote ~togetherness~ or some virtue or something, I don’t remember the specifics of why, but each class had to make a huge themed poster and hang it on the wall outside the classroom. Which was like, whatever, not the most thrilling project but at least it allowed us to be productive vs just sitting there as the teacher runs about the room rambling about her family vacation from four years ago. Mrs. Stubel decided we needed a quirky nickname and after like three days of deliberation we were christened “Stubel’s Special Strudels”!

(points for alliteration or whatever, but no one actually voted for that and what exactly do strudels have to do with Catholicism? It became a big running joke amongst the kids)

Also, in case you were wondering, she didn’t explain the assignment correctly to us- so every other class had like these beautiful, artistic, well-themed and put together posters, while ours was just…literally a bunch of shit thrown together on paper. Nothing fit with each other, it was literally embarrassing to look at.

But then…she wouldn’t drop the strudel thing. Like she kept bringing it up. She got really into strudels and would just tell us random shit about them. Finally, someone jokes that we should get strudels one day for a party (like instead of a pizza party), and she’s Freaking Out and On Board. She really wants to buy us strudels and have a breakfast party now. She talked about it for like two days straight.

So like… you know in school when you would have a pizza party, usually the teacher would buy it? That’s how they always happened in my experience (not counting the last day of 10th grade when some kid had pizza delivered to the school for lunch but it didn’t get there until math class lol). But especially in grade school? Like if it wasn’t a PTA made party that’s super organized, the school would buy the food, right? Right?

Yeah, so she was like, if this is happening you guys need to give me the money. Just give me the money and then I’ll pick them up on my way to work!! And after some arguing some kids are on board. Strudels should only cost a couple dollars right?

And she’s like, oh no, I’m gonna get them from this high end bakery near my house so it’ll be special, but they’re not cheap and it’ll be a big order! I’m gonna need like fifteen dollars from each of you!

And at this point I’m just like…lady. Come on. 

But she keeps insisting. She’s not gonna go until every student in class pays up.

And I’m like…I’m poor. I don’t even like strudel.  And some of the less-naïve kids are siding with me.

And then she pulls that “you guys are just spoiling all the fun for your classmates” shit, like the naïve kids who already paid up, so it gets to the point where we just gotta cave and give her the money.

(I ended up stealing it out of my Crazy Bitch Aunt’s wallet so it’s whatever, I guess.)

And then of course, shockingly enough, every morning she was met with “where are the strudels?” and every morning she went wide eyed, slapped her forehead and yelled in embarrassed horror “I totally forgot! Tomorrow, guys, I promise!”

Honestly, with how scatterbrained and confused she always was…like to this day I can’t tell you with 100% certainty whether she hustled us or was just actually forgetting about the damn pastries, I choose to lean towards the hustled us side because that’s just the type of people I’m used to, but if I found out it was innocent forgetfulness I wouldn’t exactly be surprised.

She couldn’t handle more than one person talking at a time. Like, we’d have break periods, or group work, or something and all the talking made her go wide-eyed and batty. She’d look overworked and anxious and would be darting around the room trying to do work or something but she couldn’t focus and she’d yell at anyone who tried to talk to her directly. I remember one time she was using this boys desk for something so he asked “where am I supposed to sit?” and she snapped “Sit on the ceiling for all I care!”. And this kid was the Class Clown™ , so he immediately grabbed a chair in one hand and started climbing the bookcase to try and reach the ceiling. She’s standing right next to this and doesn’t even notice. He got all four chair legs planted on the ceiling and was trying to somehow maneuver his way into the chair (I really don’t know what the plan was exactly- he was really tall and it was a small building, so I think he probably had the idea that if he can get his body upside down and in the chair, and stretch out his arms like a hand-stand to hold onto bookcase, he could arguably sit on the ceiling.) but he slipped. Crashed into my desk and the two desks next to me, knocked over the book case, broke the chair in half and hit the desks with enough force to knock them down lower. It was hilarious. Everyone was loosing their shit cracking up (he was fine) and it still took Stubel like five minutes to notice his lying out across the desks right in front of her eyes. She was pissed but how did she miss any of it in the first place? She was barely being helpful in whatever it was she was trying to do.

This was the year the Phillies were going to the World Series, and all the grades were having a Phillies Rally in the cafeteria so a news crew was coming to the school and each class was supposed to come up with fun little cheers for them to broadcast. Multiple cheer ideas were presented to her and she vetoed all of them, someone even suggested just singing the damn eagles theme song with replaced words and calling it a day but she vetoed that too, she was very adamant that she could come up with a cheer all by herself and it’ll be the best one (whoever had the best cheer was winning like an ice cream day or something idk). And then like…literally five minutes before the rally she just hands us signs with the letters and was like ‘we’re just gonna spell out Phillies it will be cute won’t it my strudels???’. We were the weakest class there, predictably. I think we lost to the kindergarteners. There might still be a video online of me yelling “ i “ passionately at the top of my lungs. It was online bc our cheer was so bland the news crew cut it out of the broadcast.

I literally can’t say enough about how she never taught us anything. She’d be going on some tangent about how she doesn’t understand the science behind skiing, and I’d be like “Okay yes but please can you just tell me where Romania is on a map???” And she’d start fights whenever someone actually wanted to learn. It was so easy to get her angry but so hard for her to stay on topic. Kids started teaching the class themselves! Like seriously, she’d be rambling and one of us would just go up to the podium, open the teacher’s guide textbook and just start reading out loud and talking over her. By the time she noticed we’d be halfway through a lesson. And we understood it better than when she tried! You know something’s wrong when pre-teens are more qualified for a job than an adult who supposedly went to school for this.

We were in the church having run-throughs for our upcoming Confirmation and she almost set the church on fire…fifteen different times. In less than half an hour. How hard is it to hold a candle?

Okay, and here’s when stuff starts kicking up. It was October 28th, a Tuesday, and it was our last day of school that week because they were having parent-teacher conferences the rest of the week. So we were just hanging out, watching movies in class and reading (lord knows we weren’t learning), and Stubel calls me over to her desk.

So like, she had given everyone little bags with candy for Halloween, but I get up there and she hands me an extra one. And she’s like “Molly I know your birthday is tomorrow and I bought you a present but I left it on my coffee table this morning by accident! So just have the candy for now!”

And I’m like….”Ma’am I’m like, the sixth birthday this year. You didn’t give anyone else presents?”

And she goes “Oh, I know but this is a special secret surprise. I just know you’re gonna love it! Do you wanna stop by my house later this week to pick it up or should I just give it to you Monday after school?”

And like…In writing this sounds like a non-threatening exchange, and like, it was, but I felt so uncomfortable holy shit. I’m looking over my shoulder and shooting my friends SOS signals. Something about this felt so weird in my gut omfg. I told her thanks and I’d just see her Monday.

So we flash forward to Wednesday- my 13th birthday, the day the Phillies won the world series, and also the day my mother innocently strolled into the school for her meeting only to be met with screaming, the sound of heavy destruction, and the school secretary Mrs. Daily running at her in a panic, waving her arms and yelling “YOUR MEETING IS CANCELLED YOUR MEETING IS CANCELLED GET IN MY OFFICE NOW!”

So my poor mother, who thought she could handle this whole meeting in a few minutes and barely be an hour late for work, is now barricaded in the front office with the school secretary, as the noises from down the hall get louder and louder. The woman explains that they had gotten so many complaints about Mrs. Stubel that this morning, when she got to the school, the principal Sister Patricia called her in and said “Listen, we need you to be professional and still have the parent conferences, but we have to let you go. We just don’t think you fit in well here, and the kids need to come first and feel comfortable in their school.” and like, I’m paraphrasing because I wasn’t there, but we all know she was very polite and professional about it.

Mrs. Stubel, however…was not.

She flipped her chair and stormed out of the office, and locks herself in the seventh grade classroom. She started wrecking the shit out of that place, screaming obscenities and the top of her lungs, they had to call the cops on her! She was locked in there for almost an hour! And let me just give you a nice little list of everything she did in that classroom:

  • Smashed three windows.
  • Threw everything off her desk and carved swear words all over it.
  • Got cleaning fluid that she knew would damage the chalk boards, smeared it all over.
  • Cracked the chalk boards by repeatedly smashing chairs against them.
  • Wrote swear words all over the walls and on desks
  • Went into students desks, ripped up their books.
  • Stole my glasses. (which were in my desk bc I only used them in class at the time)
  • Threw some desks around.
  • Carved swear words into the boards. (there was so much carving I’m assuming she just had a knife on her person, which has to lead to the question, did she have a knife on her while she was in class with us?)
  • Physically ripped the hooks to hang backpacks on out of the wall.
  • Knocked the closet door off it’s hinges.
  • Ripped up all the books in the bookcases and threw their pages all around the room.
  • Wrote lewd phrases inside student’s desks.
  • Broke multiple chairs.
  • Used her podium as a battering ram against the wall that’s in front of where the backpacks go. (the wall won but Damage Was Inflicted)
  • Set a fire in the trash can.
  • When the principal and other teachers started trying to get in, she tossed her rolling chair at the door to scare them off.
  • She was screaming curse words at the top of her lungs the entire time, and cursing the school and the kids and the principal and the church in general, and the school building was small, so all the parents and the smaller children that had to come to the meetings (who were locked in their respective classrooms in fear) heard everything.
  • So much more? But it’s 4:30 in this morning and this list is already long.

So my mom is in the front office and deadass the

entire police force

shows up, running down the hallway to the classroom yelling at her to stop, and it takes a while for them to get her out holy shit. They knocked down the door and she tried to escape out of one of the broken windows! But they got her and dragged her out.

So of course, in such a small school with very involved parents this shit spread like wildfire. The entire town knew within the day. The poor principal called the newly retired old-seventh grade teacher and was like “So we…need some help” and the lady was like “I already heard I’ll be there Monday” omfg. I remember I got a text from one of my classmates saying “if your birthday wish was for us to be set free from the beast I love you” omfg.

So, we eventually go back to school on Monday and everyone’s buzzing. The principal has us go to the cafeteria and she ‘delicately’ explains the situation, and that the old teacher is coming out of retirement for us, the school has a restraining order against Mrs. Stubel now and that she’s sorry we had to deal with this mess. Our classroom had to go under some heavy reconstruction before we could be let back in there, so for like two weeks we alternated between the cafeteria and the preschooler’s classroom, we had no books or anything, just provided loose-leaf paper and pens. It was like, surreal, but everyone was just so happy to be rid of her and to be in the presence of a competent teacher omfg. We eventually were able to get back into our usual classroom.

  1. It took a while for things to go completely back to normal, though. After the big spectacle she made, for weeks after she was fired we were all very scared of the possibility of Mrs. Stubel returning to the school with a gun in hand. It was always a topic we whispered about at lunch with wide eyes and shivers. Like…genuine nightmare scenario.
  2. About two weeks after she was fired, a boy in the back of the classroom gasped loudly during SSR, and when we all looked at him, he whispered in anger “She never gave us our freakin’ strudels!”
  3. About three months after she was fired, we were lined up at the door to go to Library when a few of us looked through the windows and saw something darting through the trees. It was fast and we couldn’t make anything out, so we let it drop. When the class and teacher returned half and hour later, the book she had borrowed months before from one of the boys was sitting on his desk. It was just laying there, the room was silent, nothing had been disturbed…but I have never seen a book look so threatening. People were freaking out. Someone kept insisting that she turned the book into a bomb. No one figure out how she got in the school, and no one could figure out how she got it on the right desk, as we had switched the seating arrangement since she had last been there.  
  4. A full six months after she had left, it was nearing the end of the school year and our class was dicking around during our last computer class. Someone found a website (that we weren’t allowed to be on) that pulls up any police records attached to whoever’s name you enter, so someone decided to search Mrs. Stubel as a joke. We ended up finding out she had like six DUI’s.

Aaaaand that’s the story of the horrendous teacher I had for two months in 7th grade. One of my favorite party stories but tbh she still haunts me™ .

Things the signs love

Aries: To feel wanted. Baby animals (especially kittens). Corny gifts. Stability. Forehead kisses. Red lipstick. Deep and meaningful conversations. Vodka. Mutual feelings. Drunk texts. Holding hands. Hot showers. Comedy movies. Someone that will make them better as a person. 

Taurus: Traveling. Roller coasters. Commitment. Neck kisses. Fun dates. Comfort snacks. Peanut butter. Watching horror movies with a significant other. Warm, fluffy towels. Buying pointless things. Late night tumblr sessions. Stuffed animals. Meaningful letters. Getting dressed up. Bubble baths. Forest. Rain and storms.

Gemini: Make out sessions. Instagram. Feeling wanted. Cute dates. Tall boys/short girls. Fluffy rugs. Romance movies. Collecting random things. Messy rooms. Wine. Conversations about sex. Being made feel special. Driving with the windows down.

Cancer: Small animals. Silk pajamas. Pretty things. Flowers. Cute lingerie. Vanilla milkshakes. Buying expensive makeup. Stuff that smells good. Fan-girling over celebs. Late night Netflix. Pizza. Roller skating.

Leo: Night drives. Fairy lights. Soft, worn in hoodies. Stars. Instagram. Fireworks. Soft cheeks kisses. Bear hugs. Stomach butterflies. Giving advice. Salted caramel. Champagne. Amusement parks.

Virgo: Face masks. Commitment. Dogs. Turning up music loud while driving. Disney movies. Feeling acknowledged. Sound of rain. Music. Shooting stars. Black and white photographs. Fashion.

Libra: Candles. Fireworks. Bonfires. Commitment. Romance novels. Big animals. Warm houses. Skinny jeans. Drinking with friends. Salt and vinegar chips. Sending ugly pictures to friends. Lip syncing beyonce or justin bieber. Smell of books. Dogs. The milky way.

Scorpio: Cold drinks. Full bank account. Adrenaline rushes. Deep, passionate kisses. Warm socks. Inside jokes. Staring. Hand written letters. Sarcasm. Movies (scorpios are movie freaks). Soapy showers.

Sagittarius: Horror movies with friends. Weed. Photography. Architecture. Gossip. Classy outings. Sarcasm. Face and body products. Reaching high levels on video games. Sassy remarks. Traveling. Cactuses. Piercings. Adventure. Croissants.

Capricorn: Expensive makeup. Feeling wanted. Photo booths. Clean houses. Clouds. Sarcasm. Dirty jokes. Sparklers. Green grass. Festivals. Drunk texting. Pretty underwear. Boybands. Late night tumblr sessions. Dark lipstick. Passionate kissing.

Aquarius: Aquariums ( :’) ). Beach bikes. Long strolls on beach. Sundresses. Innocent gossip. Booty. Late night texting. Blasting music in car. Exotic drinks. Trampolines. Rock jumps. Books. Christmas lights. Pretty views.

Pisces: Old movies. Heart shaped sunglasses. The universe. Knitted blankets. Shimmery eyeshadow. Learning. Smell of rain. Daydreaming. Chill songs. Sea shells. Drawing. Brand new pens.

You are in a café with me, what tea do you order?

1. Rosehip tea: Which book did you love when you were younger?
2. Oolong tea: Which book series could you read again?
3. Rooibos: What is one of you favourite books?
4. Strawberry tea: Tell me about your first kiss, if you had one.
5. Apple tea: Tell me about your first break up, if you had one.
6. Earl Grey: Which countries have you visited?
7. Chai: Where do you want to travel next?
8. Darjeeling: What languages do you speak?
9. Hop tea: Do you have a favourite tea? Which one?
10. Herbal tea: Which person would you chose to travel the world with?
11. Nettle tea: Are you jealous on a person? Why?
12. Ice tea: Do you miss somebody? Why?
13. Yellow tea: What shampoo do you use?
14. Peppermint tea: What is your favourite gif at the moment?
15. Ceylon tea: Do you have a song you like, but have bad memories with?
16. Hibiscus tea: What is a song you can always hear?
17. Flowering tea: What is a movie you can always watch?
18. Pu-erh tea: What is a book you can recommend to others?
19. Turkish tea: What is your favourite cake?
20. Green tea: What was the first movie you saw in a cinema?
21. Blueberry-Muffin tea: Tell me a memory, which makes you smile.
22. Panda tea: Do you have pets? Which one?
23. Butter tea: Show / Tell me about one thing i your room you find awesome.
24. Hot chocolate: Do you have (a) stuffed animal(s) sitting in your room? Which one(s)?
25. 24 flavors: What is your favourite word?
26. Jasmin tea: Can you draw / paint? Wanna show me something?
27. Kombucha: What do you order on a pizza?
28. Cloud tea: Which movie do you want to watch next?
29. Gunpowder tea: If you had the chance: would you go to space?
30. Matcha: Bonus question of you choice! I might answer…

JIN X RAP MONSTER  SPAM BECAUSE:

They take care of the members like no other 

Originally posted by charrytommoto

And laugh together like no other

Originally posted by minhasgifskpop

To tears sometimes 

Originally posted by de-drums

Namjoon used to pull Jin just to make a heart

Originally posted by mochixhamster

Or concentrate so hard (to make one)

Originally posted by jimins-bootae

Today they make them with the eyes closed

Originally posted by flyingpandasrule

They crush while dancing while we pray no one will break a bone

Originally posted by kc-junghsk

They have these weird moments we can’t get but still love

Originally posted by yovibeispretty

Just keep in mind  they are the eldest and the leader 

Originally posted by sugamysavagebaby

Namjoon thinks Jin is so cute

Originally posted by byeoltan

He watches Jin acting cute like he is witnessing the next big thing since pizza

Originally posted by slut4bangtan

He also tries to make Jin cuter (GOALS)

Originally posted by boys-love-hell-yes

Or, remember when  they were  alone in the studio

Originally posted by lacuna-matata

And namjoon wasn’t able to take his eyes off Jin

Originally posted by yoongi-path

But again … he isn’t the only one

Originally posted by hopeatuuli

Mr third guy from the left is worldwide handsome and VERY caring:

Originally posted by iwaslookingforhope

Speaking of Namjoon’s obsession he usually holds Jin the same way

Originally posted by cryseok

by putting his hand around Jin’s wide shoulders

Originally posted by chimneytaels

Namjoon is way too smooth

Originally posted by siomaichi

And it works because Jin shares his food with him and yall know how much Jin loves his food (MAAANHI MANHI if you had no clue)

Originally posted by blessedbyjarry

THE aura. THE charisma. THE air around them changes when they stand together. Their presence together is THAT powerful.

Originally posted by namjinkiss

SO powerful. Even their cute selfies revived the dead ARMYs killed by the previous events

Originally posted by minyoongi-sempi

They are soooo~oooo cute and precious and must protect material when they play with filters, you forget that one of them is called rap “MONSTER”. 

Originally posted by mafiakpopper

“Jin put his hand on Rapmon’s thigh as he laughed. Namjoon ignored all the cameras and he held it thightly while smiling” It sounds unreal but …No. This is not a fanfiction. This is reality:

Originally posted by badgizibe888

The way Rapmon hugs him and how Jin just puts his head on his shoulder is like a scene from a movie too

Originally posted by namjoon-be-my-friend

I mean, look at this, you can’t feel nothing even if dead

Originally posted by namjinlove

And space is not part of their dictionary: look at all the empty seats but they slept next to one another

Originally posted by boys-love-hell-yes

It was never a coincidence (Did you just “Awwww” now? don’t worry 99% do)

Originally posted by hopeatuuli

And we can’t let out a post about these two without the GIFT SENT BY THE HEAVENS this year: THE kiss!

Originally posted by jeonsshi

It’s the ship that the WHOLE fandom approves no matter what. Why you say? I mean look at them. How can you not?

Originally posted by bwibelle

So with flying kisses from both our lovely Jin and beloved Rapmon,  I finish this post wishing it has made you smile a bit <3

Originally posted by w-t-f-yes

I love these two so so so so much so I hope you liked it too^^ 
If you want to see more Try: 

  • V X JIMIN SPAM HERE
  • SUGA X JIMIN SPAM HERE
  • JIMIN X JHOPE SPAM HERE

By @mimibtsghost

anonymous asked:

Hi, I really love your voltron headcannons, could u do more shiro ones?

happy birthday shiro!!!

  • the extent of hunk’s familiarity with shiro pre-voltron was that one time he saw shiro in the garrison hallway and thought “oh hey me and that guy have the same gloves, neat”
  • shiro and lance are both in the Unsettlingly Good At Dealing With Near Death Experiences club
    • lance: [almost gets blown up] [hits on allura immediately after waking up]
    • shiro: [gets stabbed by radioactive wolverine claws] “haha don’t worry keith it takes more than several things trying to kill me to kill me”
  • whenever anyone compliments how well put together shiro is keith automatically remembers the time shiro almost started a fire in his dorm making pizza bites
  • “we’d like to speak to your leader” “sure” “…” “…oh right- hello-”
  • shiro is the paladins’ adult guidance, coran is shiro’s
  • whenever shiro says something inspiring allura lowkey takes notes
    • “how do you…. do that” “uh… encourage others?” “yeah that”
    • bless this girl’s soul she just prefers running people into the ground to motivate them
  • one time pidge fell asleep in the vents and shiro went to get her but his big ass shoulders wouldn’t fit and he was stuck for like an hour
  • shiro, whenever something goes wrong: “part of me is like, whatever, you know? you know those days when you’re like ‘this might as well happen?’ adult life is already so goddamn weird”
There was a guitarist who was supposed to come in and couldn’t make it. Ryan, who is an engineer in the studio, says I can see if Mitch can come down. He came in and he was just a monster. The second day he couldn’t come down because he had to do a shift in the pizza shop. The thing with Mitch is that something felt so new to me – he was someone else who had never done it before. He was working in a pizza shop and had never been in a studio. It felt like we had each other to walk out together. He was someone who had no preconceptions about me or who I was or anything and he’s a legend. Now he’s one of my closest friends.
OC asks
  1. What is your OC’s favorite color?
  2. Does your OC collect anything? What do they collect?
  3. What kind of things is your OC allergic to?
  4. What kind of clothing does your OC wear?
  5. What is your OC’s first memory?
  6. WWhat’s your OC’s favorite animal? Least favorite?
  7. What element would your OC be?
  8. What is your OC’s theme song? 
  9. Do you have a faceclaim / voiceclaim for your OC?
  10. What deadly sin would best represent your OC?
  11. What are your OC’s hobbies?
  12. How patient is your OC? How hot-headed are they?
  13. What is your OC’s gender / sexuality / race / species / etc.?
  14. What foods does your OC like to eat? What are their least favorite foods?
  15. If your OC could have any pet, what would they choose? Why?
  16. What does your OC smell like? 
  17. How do they make a living? What kind of job do they want / not want? What is their dream job? What do they think of their current job?
  18. What are your OC’s greatest fears? Weaknesses? Strengths?
  19. What kind of music do they listen to? Do they have a favorite song?
  20. If they came from their world to ours (if not already in our’s) how would they react? What would they do?
  21. What personal problems/issues do they have? Pet peeves?
  22. What kind of student were they/would they be in high school?
  23. What is a random fact about your OC? 
  24. What is their outlook on life? What is their philosophy / what do they think in general about living?
  25. What inspired you to create them / how did you create them? Were they originally a fancharacter? What was their personality / design like when you first made them?
  26. Who is the most important person in their life? Why? Who is the least important to them (that still has an impact and why?
  27. What kind of childhood did your character have?
  28. What kind of nervous habits do they have? Do they stim? Do they have any kinds of addictions?
  29. If they could choose their epitaph for their grave, what would they choose?
  30. Do they want to get married? Why or why not? Would they ever want kids? Do they have kids? Why?
  31. What is their most traumatic memory/experience? What is their favorite memory?
  32. If they could have one thing in the world, what would it be?
  33. Would they ever kill someone? What would someone have to do to push them to kill someone? If they would kill someone, why? 
  34. What social groups and activities does your character attend? What role do they like to play? What role do they actually play, usually?
  35. How is your character’s imagination? Daydreaming a lot? Worried most of the time? Living in memories?
  36. What does your character want most? What do they need really badly, compulsively? What are they willing to do, to sacrifice, to obtain?
  37. What’s something that your character does, that other people don’t normally do?
  38. What would your character do with a million dollars? 
  39. What is in your characters refrigerator right now? On their bedroom floor? Nightstand? Garbage can?
  40. Your character is getting ready for a night out. Where are they going? What do they wear? Who will they be with?
  41. What does your character do when they’re angry? Why?
  42. Does your character have any scars? Where did they get them from? 
  43. What was the most offensive thing your character had ever said?
  44. How does your character react/ accept criticism?
  45. If your character was given a slice of pineapple pizza and they HAD to eat it (or something bad would happen), how would they react? Do they even LIKE pineapple pizza?
  46. Your character is given a voodoo doll of themself. What do they do with it? Do they see if it actually works?
  47. Can your character draw? What do they like to draw? Do they doodle?
  48. What were their parents like? How has that affected how they are as an adult?
  49. Does your character like candy? Do they get sugar rushes? What are they like when they get a rush?
  50. If your character was presented with imminent and unavoidable death/fatality, how would they react? Would they try to avoid death anyways? Would they try to make their last days count? 
Cheap Creative Date Ideas

• hide and seek at Barnes and Noble

• pick out books for each other at Half Price bookstore

• read to a group of local kids at a library (ask their parents first)

• make a homemade pizza together

• have an impromptu photo shoot at a park

• go thrifting

• Facetime and Netflix so you can see each others reactions

• people watch and make stories for them at a mall

• try on clothes at a store you know damn well you can’t afford

• do laundry (don’t knock it till you try it)

• attend an outdoor event (often times they’re free or dirt cheap)

• teach other one of your favorite hobbies/things (2k, makeup, cooking, basketball, etc)

• play something at the crib (jenga, speed, uno … okay maybe not uno but you get the idea)

• hang out with a family member (i guarantee free food 9 times outta 10)

• late night star gazing (find a good rooftop where there aren’t many lights, makes it a lot better.)

• make each other a mixtape

•find a swing set and talk about elementary school memories

Hogwarts House Study Moods
  • The Gryffindor: group quizzes and jeopardy and flashcards, interacts with material whenever possible so they make models for chem and draw out maps for history and act out Shakespeare, studies in some friend's room a bit too loud to actually be focusing, highlights bc it's the quickest, pomodoros involve longer time divisions, always in OH listening to others' questions, forgets to eat and then they all order pizza followed by a Taco Bell run in the wee hours of the morn when they're hungry again
  • The Hufflepuff: learns by teaching others, has to study in advance bc they know others are going to ask for help during exam weeks, secretly procrastinates by planning for everything in their bujos, washi tape tabs, fruity non-caf teas and herbal teas to relax or sleep or to settle nerves, has gel pens in every possible color, draws the neatest diagrams, can't prioritize so studies everything, uses that essential oil trick to remember things better by smell association, focuses best with dubstep
  • The Ravenclaw: notes, notes, and notes, mind maps to connect ideas no matter how unrelated they seem, solo studying in their rooms, green tea, classical music in the background, gets led off track focusing on details that have never been mentioned in class, will die for graph paper, accidentally pulls all-nighters bc they're so obsessed with understanding every single thing inside and out, color codes with basic colors nothing fancy, eats a bunch of toast and cereal bc they don't want to waste time
  • The Slytherin: practices old tests and gets extra material from others who have taken the class, motivated by watching others study so they're always at the library during finals or at dark and quiet cafes, the night owl-iest of the bunch, iced cold brews no matter the weather, makes comprehensive study guides that cover all testable points, does nothing all term but kicks into high gear a week and a half before any exam, owns a billion black pens and has an opinion about each of them, listens to indie alt

Go for the thing you actually want to do.  

Many students, teachers and family told me studying 2D animation in school from 2009- 2013 was foolish because there were already no more 2D animation jobs, and that I should study 3D animation. But I hate rigorous, technical work, I honestly hate computers all together. I’m not built for that kind of thinking, and I’m not interested in it. I was and am far more interested in drawing and film making than mastering technology. I’m almost four years out of school now, and have now had far better career opportunities than many of my 3D classmates because I am passionate about what I do.

My senior year of college,  I narrowed the parts of the animation process that I am most interested in to writing and storyboarding. But, I was afraid to pursue those jobs because I knew from interning in studios that they were highly coveted positions. So, I went for cleanup and animation jobs, hoping to work my way up. I even got lucky and landed character design work down the line, though I’m not particularly interested in design. It was only when i started taking storyboarding classes, making storyboards in my spare time, pursuing storyboarding jobs, calling myself a storyboard artist, that those opportunities started to become available to me. And it turns out, I’m far better at storyboarding than I was at those other positions, because it’s the thing I enjoy the most. This is not to say “don’t take that cleanup job that pays the bills.” Take that job, and do online storyboarding classes at night, and read storyboarding blogs on your lunch break, make storyboard samples and comics in your free time on nights and weekends… Then, ask for storyboard tests, and test and test and test. It might take a while, no worries. Go ahead and put ‘storyboard artist’ on your website in the meantime instead of ‘illustrator’ or 'cleanup’ or whatever your more accurate fallback job is.

Don’t work in a studio in your fallback job and wait for someone to give you the opportunity. You might think because you are hard working at your compromise job, the management will reward loyalty with the job you politely asked for, or maybe were even too polite to actually ask for. They won’t give you that job. They probably won’t even help you get that job. So test within that studio if they’ll let you, and apply other places in the meantime while you keep paying the bills with that job.

There’s no excuse to me. Even people who want to direct can direct their own animated shorts in their spare time and build up a commercial directing portfolio from those shorts. You can do the same thing making crappy live action films with borrowed equipment in your spare time. It’s costly and time consuming, but you can throw your musician friend a couple bucks for the score, get a compositor buddy to throw effects on your short in exchange for some animation she needs, and buy a bunch of friends pizza to help you clean up scenes or hold lights or whatever. I’ve done it before.

I used storyboards as an example above, (read blogs during lunch, etc.) but apply that same tenacity towards whatever you want to do: vis dev, character design, comic penciler, stop motion fabricator, 3D modeler, whatever. I want to be a writer now, that’s the next hurdle for me. I’ve written two pilots and I’m taking it seriously, going to writing events, talking to people, refining my work and writing new material, and generally conducting myself as a writer. I have no idea how long, or even if this will take, but I’m pursuing it like it’s real because I enjoy writing, so I think I’d be good at it. Please don’t be one of these people that talks about all the stuff you’re “working on”, when you are really just thinking about working on that stuff. Too many of those in the world, please just go and get things done. “There are those who write, and those who talk about writing.” An adage I like. Apply it to whatever you like “There are those who design characters, and those who talk about designing characters…”

So please, everyone, go for what you want, don’t stop short now. You’ll be a lot better at your job when you’re doing the thing you like.

Acknowledge it.
In order to move on you need to acknowledge it or it may as well eat you alive.
Pushing it aside isn’t moving on.
You need to let yourself hurt, ache, scream in pain.
Punch the wall at 3 am and watch the blood fall from the bruises on your skin and realize you’re alive, yell at your neighbors for being annoyed by the noise, screw them for trying to stop you from reaching the peace you long for so badly.
Eat pizza and ice-cream until your stomach grows sick and now you can focus on another pain other than the one on your chest.
Isolate yourself from the world for as long as you need, drink, smoke, have nightmares.
Allow yourself to be immersed on a pit of self pity because you deserve it.
You deserve to feel pity for yourself because you were hurt and are still hurting.
Immerse yourself so you can fix yourself.
It doesn’t matter how long it takes.
Then rise from that pit and don’t look back.
Start doing the things you’ve always wanted to do and don’t feel bad for focusing on the one person that was and will always matter the most, yourself.
Acknowledge the pain but don’t let it get you down anymore for you are not the person you were 15 minutes ago, imagine 4 months ago.
Allow your heart to look for somebody else because sometimes the only way is to find someone that truly deserves all you have to offer.
Moving on doesn’t mean forgetting, it means letting go of something that no longer serves and deserves you.
—  This how to move on (kind of) - Mariana Teles Fernandes

anonymous asked:

Not a writing question but I was wondering what your opinions on the organization Autism Speaks were.

Ah, thank you for offering us an opportunity to share something very important to us. For those who aren’t aware, there is an organization in the US called “Autism Speaks” which claims to be a charity working to help autistic people. They are not a charity. They are a hate group.

Autism Speaks is not run with the help of any autistic people. It’s run by allistic people who think of autism as a horrible disease that needs to be eradicated. They run propaganda ads talking about autism like a plague which is destroying lives. They compare it to cancer. One of their propaganda videos famously shows a member of their board talking about contemplating killing her autistic child - while the child is in the room listening to her. Their goal is to “cure” autism - to wipe it off the face of the planet. They don’t see autistic people as people, but as tragic burdens to those around them. They want to take care of all the poor moms and dads whose lives were so tragically ruined when they found out their child was autistic. And they support organizations that torture autistic people and call it “therapy”, like the Judge Rotenberg Center.

This is not a charity. They think of us as broken, inhuman monsters who should be expunged from society. They are not helping us - they’re trying to exterminate us.

Their propaganda is a big part of why there is so much misinformation out there about autism and autistic people. The average person is likely to believe their claims that autism is a horrible disease, that the best way to help the people who have it is to cure them and make them “normal”. Especially the parents of autistic children might like the idea of “fixing” their kid.

News flash: We’re not sick. Autism is not a disease. At worst, it can be considered a disorder or disability, depending on your definition of such, but the vast majority of autistic people are perfectly happy being who we are. Our biggest hurdle isn’t some terrible defect in ourselves - it’s the negative attitudes and lack of understanding in those around us, and the expectation that our primary goal in life should be to act less like ourselves and more like the “normal” people who make up the majority (pro tip: there’s really no such thing as normal). Autism cannot be cured, because it’s not an illness. Our brains are hardwired differently than others, and that is a fundamental part of who we are. If you asked me if I would like a cure, I would look at you the same way as if you asked me if I would like to remove the color from my pizza, because it makes the same amount of logical sense.

Imagine if someone asked you if you would like to stop being (insert your nationality here). Like, just completely remove it from yourself. What would that even mean? Removing all your memories and experiences from that country? Erasing your native language and replacing it with another one? How would that even work? That’s the kind of thing that’s being proposed here.

What autistic people need is awareness, education, and sometimes assistance, depending on our individual needs. We dream of a world where seeing a person rocking back and forth gently and not making much eye contact isn’t met with indignation, disgust, or pity, and where our strengths are valued (and we have many!).

It should be noted that recently, Autism Speaks has changed their official platform slightly, supposedly focusing less on a “cure”, but I’m afraid I don’t buy it for a second. Anyone whose goal includes a “cure” at all is not advocating for our rights, and even if they did have a different mission now, the damage is long since done. Many of us may struggle, and many of us may wish there were certain problems we could do away with, but a “cure” is not possible and our goal should not be to eliminate autistic people from the world, especially given how much we contribute to society. Very few autistic people would actually desire a “cure”, even if one were possible.

So what does this have to do with writing? If you’re writing an autistic character who gets help from a charitable organization, do NOT make it Autism Speaks. That’s not what they do. If your character has any interactions with Autism Speaks, it will be more along the lines of being told they are broken and must be fixed, having the people in their lives treat them as less than human (or as deformed or defective) because they have believed the propaganda, being told they have no right to speak for themselves, and possibly suffering abuse and even torture at the hands of those who think they are “helping”.

There are plenty of good charitable organizations to help autistic people with what we actually need. If you want your character to support an organization in your story (or support the organization yourself by giving them positive exposure in your story), try one of these (and a little Google-fu can help you find a local one for you if you don’t live in the US or UK - search terms like “autism advocacy” and make sure it’s run by actual autistic people). We strongly recommend contacting them, letting them know what you’re writing, and asking how you can include them in your story and represent their work accurately:

Autistic Self-Advocacy Network (ASAN)

Autism Women’s Network

Autistic Rights Movement UK 

-Mod Aira

02/10/17 - It felt good for Friday to come after a very long and busy week. I was scrambling around in court all morning. I had a couple of pleas in Federal Court, and a couple other clients in custody. I managed to finish in court by lunch and caught up on things in the office in the afternoon. I got my preorder of the new Weeknd album on vinyl, and bumped that at home. Steph and I ordered pizza from Rustic Slice and watched Silk, which is fantastic.