not even entirely done

anonymous asked:

long haired yurio.

there he is!

Don’t ever tell me that marching band isn’t important.

I have had so many problems with public schools putting all the emphasis on athletics. When a school’s budget is cut, they don’t choose to take a little from each program. No. They choose to completely eradicate the arts programs, usually starting with the marching band. If you don’t play sports, you’re not a valuable asset, you’re not qualified for scholarships, and you mean nothing. Marching band? Why would we be impressed that you’re in marching band?

Anyone can do that.

Okay, fine. Anyone can do marching band. Anyone can spend hours on the field doing the same forty-second section over and over and over and over. Anyone can hit over 75 precise dots on the field with the correct step sizes, the correct amount of steps, the correct timing, without being so much as an inch to either side, in order and without looking at the yard line markers or the field. Anyone can memorize all of those extremely specific points on the grass and varying counts for steps and then execute them with a shako visor pulled down over your eyes and looking up at the press box the whole time. If you look down at the yard line markers to see where you are, congratulations, you just lost points for the group.

Anyone can memorize eight pages of notes, rhythms, dynamics, phrasing, and tempos. (But of course, before you do that you have to learn an instrument with hundreds of different fingerings and learn how to make slight changes in your lips to change notes and stay in tune.) Memorize all seven and a half minutes of music and then marry it to the seventy-five pages of drill you memorized. Do them both perfectly and at the same time. But you can’t just do what you memorized. You have to do it in perfect sync with everyone around you and know how to make the slightest adjustments to fit perfectly within the group. If you’re an inch to the right or barely a thousandth of a step sharp, it’ll throw everything off.

But anyone can do that.

Then add in the fact that you don’t get any individual credit for doing this. The closest you’ll come to recognition is your identity lumped into “The Such-and-Such Marching Band” as you all march onto the field looking exactly the same. You don’t have a number on your back. You have a uniform intended to erase you and turn you into dot T14 and nothing more.

But, for some reason you can’t explain, you love it. You love throwing everything you have into this ridiculously precise pursuit and then not getting any credit for it. You start thanking people when they call you a band geek. You start taping pictures of marching bands into your locker. You start wearing your band shirt everywhere you go. Because you look at the person in an identical uniform next to you and you know that you’ve done this for them and they’ve done this for you. This is more than just a team, this is a family; and if one person is missing from the form, the show can’t ever be the same. 

It costs so much money, so much time. You’re out there on the field in the blazing sun for fourteen hours a day during summer band camp, out in the street getting frostbite on your fingertips during the holiday parade. If anyone knew what you went through for this, they would wonder what made it all worth it.

And the truth is, what makes it all worth it cannot be described. It’s the camaraderie between you and the center snare, the colorguard newbie, the tenor sax player in the set in front of you. It’s the sunset behind you lighting up the back of your plume. It’s the hazy nostalgia that racks your chest with emotion. There’s something about the family you’ve chosen and the experience you’ve internalized that gives you the passion to throw everything down onto that field like nothing else matters in the world… because in that moment, it’s true. 

Your nerves are damaged from the cold. Your skin is damaged from the sun. Your joints are damaged from marching and marching and marching. You’re physically and mentally drained, your body is irreversibly compromised, you’re broke as hell, and all you have to show for it is a polyester jacket and a couple of blurry photographs.

But sports are what require hard work and dedication, not marching band.

Even though you complained basically the entire time you marched and even though you’re done with it, you pull out those photographs and you remember. You remember your first day of high school band camp when you had absolutely no idea what you were getting yourself into. You remember your first final retreat when they announced your band’s name as state champions, and you wanted to cry with happiness but you weren’t allowed to move, so you just clenched your fists so tight that your fingernails dug white crescents into your palms. You remember coming back the next year and thinking you knew everything as a sophomore, only to realize there was still so much to learn. You remember the band trips you spent months fundraising for, all the lame tourist attractions you visited between performances, and how you wouldn’t trade those memories for all the money in the world. You remember being a junior and getting nervous because people looked up to you now: as an upperclassman, as a section leader, as a friend. And then you were a senior and you cried on the final day of band camp. You remember how your life became a series of lasts. You had to decide which of the freshmen would inherit your band cubby, your lucky bottle of valve oil, your bus seat. You went to graduation but it didn’t mean anything because you still had one last band trip coming up. You didn’t shed a tear when you tossed your cap but you cried like a child after your last parade. You remember on the plane ride home, you expected to feel devastated and heartbroken, but you just felt… empty.

You remember printing out what seemed like the most difficult solo in the world. You remember driving up to your college and entering a room with a chair and a stand and a couple of people giving you skeptical looks. You remember getting an email from the college marching band with your audition results and reading it with tears of joy in your eyes because you realized it was starting all over again.

But marching band doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t matter.

Tell me that it doesn’t matter. Tell me as many times as you want. You could scream it in my face and I still wouldn’t hear because the music we’re making is too damn loud to let anything else in. 

Tell me that it doesn’t matter when I’m standing on the field for the last time, knowing that everything behind me will last forever and that nothing will ever mean more to me than this… and all you’ve got is some money and a jersey with a number on the back.

Do not ever tell me that marching band isn’t important. It is everything to me, and it is everything to millions of other band geeks across the world.

When you refuse to support kids because they participate in the arts rather than athletics, you’re no better than the football player who takes lunch money from nerds.

To all of my fellow band geeks… keep marching, even if the world tells you it’s not worth it. It is. God, it is worth it, in ways no one else but you will ever understand. Continue your band career in college. Audition for a drum corps. Stay active in your high school band as an alumnus supporter. You are all my family. 

au where everything is the same except im a responsible human being

ellie’s baked chocolate thing

¼ cup of butter
3 tablespoons of sugar
½ coup flour
some amount of vanilla extract
a lot more sugar
just a little bit of milk
?? baking soda
????? cocoa powder

* step 1: in a depressive haze, while procrastinating several important projects, stumble across an “edible” cookie dough recipe. snort to yourself as you make the aunt joke about how all cookie dough is edible. decide youre going to make it

* step 2: get up and get the ingredients, follow them for almost the entire the duration of the recipe, then realize you don’t have chocolate chips. take out your roommates 3 month old microwavable melting chocolate from the fridge and take off a small, hopefully unnoticeable piece (if youre reading this, zi, i’m sorry)

* step 3: try to break it off into little chips. realize it isn’t working. try to use the electric mixer to break it off into little chips. its really not working

* step 4: mistakenly microwave the entire bowl thinking it will just turn into regular chocolatey cookie dough. make sure to think hard about how all the butter you creamed is melting but dont take it out of the microwave. just think about it

* step 5: taste it. its not good. add more sugar. taste it. still not good. add more sugar and butter. taste it.

* step 6: god damn it maybe you should just bake it into regular cookies? realize that because it was and “edible” cookie dough recipe, it probably wont bake well. probably

* step 7: damn it all to hell. youve made some cookies before. just pour some baking powder and crack an egg in there. use a butter knife to mix this poorly because you already put the electric mixer beater in the sink

* step 8: ok. maybe this will be a cookie? put some walnuts in there just cuz.

* step 9: think about how thats more of a brownie thing. well, it is kind of like a brownie. brownie cookies? oh jeez, what if they just melt into a solid thin layer on the baking sheet. ok, so you’ll just bake them in a pan, like blondies, or giant cookies that you can cut.

* step 10: you know what, while we’re at it, why not just make them into brownies? they’re kind of brownies? dump indiscernible amounts of cocoa powder in there. mix poorly with the knife again. dissociate.

* step 11: grease a very small baking pan, pour the… batter? dough? mix? into the pan. it will seem both like and unlike any chocolate baked good you’ve made in your life and its kind of uncanny but its fine

* step 12: ok, so who knows what this will be like, but who cares, it will probably be good. it’s a surprise. snort as you make the dad joke about not needing labels

* step 13: realize you didn’t preheat the oven. preheat the oven to whatever number feels right

* step 14: reorganize the dirty dishes in your sink. feel a bit more productive than before

* step 15: as you put away ingredients, waterfall some milk into your mouth so you don’t have to get a cup but also don’t put bacteria on the lip of the milk. it feels weird but funny

* step 16: sprinkle more walnuts on there in an empty but also genuine gesture towards simple zest for life

* step 17: put the chocolate thing in the oven until you can smell it.

* step 18: take it out. you probably put the knife in the sink when you were organizing the dirty dishes so now you have to wash a different one to poke the chocolate thing. poke it even though you think its for sure done.

* step 19: even though the top looks entirely cooked, the center is still entirely liquid. don’t worry; you might think that means if you put it back in, the top will burn, but just turn down the oven to whatever feels righter and wrap it in some foil and pop it back in and kinda stop caring about it

* step 20: check it again whenever. its still not done anyway

* step 21: check again. seems baked all the way through. looks like a loaf, smells kinda good. take it out again. where did you put that knife????????

* step 22: find the knife on the floor of the living room or somewhere else it shouldn’t be. bonus if its on carpet. why are you like this?

* step 23: slice a piece immediately and eat it with the knife and your hands (power combo). its………. ok. enjoy!


So I got bored and decided to redraw the Up To This Point cover art coz Rhett’s shoulders bothered me a lot lmao with a bonus “updated” version!!! Took me an entire day even though it could be done in 2h smh anyways still not used to drawing fetus Rhett and Link so uh


this has been an all day ordeal and it aint even done. The top photo isn’t even the ‘before’ entirely, it was almost an hour into cleaning. Just to give an understanding as to A. how slow i work and B. how bad my room was

i am very tired -_-

Okay, this may be the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my entire life. It’s even harder than coming out as a lesbian to my friends. 

But uh, there it goes: I’m not a girl, and I’m not a boy either. I’m somewhere in between. I identify with “they/them” and my name is not Valentine anymore. My name has always been, is and will always be Charlie. 

There you go. 

i dont think tvd even understands the gravity of what they’ve done. Stefan and Caroline’s entire relationship is based around them helping each other gain control and change for the better and become better versions of the people they already are. By doing what they did in the finale, they basically said that everything they had, everything they did, every step caroline helped stefan take towards controlling his vampirism without going down a guilt spiral and every step he took himself was null and void. Stefan came into our lives as a genuinely good person who thought he should sacrifice himself for the people he cared about and that he didn’t deserve to be happy because of what he’s done in the past and he exited the show the same way. They completely obliterated 8 seasons of character development in 5 minutes. Steroline deserved better. Stefan deserved better.


Foster Sprites - There you go ! It’s finally done ! Even though I’m not entirely satisfied with it, I’m glad to say that I had - a bit of - fun ( but it was exhausting ) ~

you can say whatever you want and talk about your experience as fan of that singer or that band, but personally i’ve never seen a top artist with such a powerful management behind not saying a single word about a debut solo album everyone has been expecting for years now and instead leaving everyone and their dog to talk about it everywhere without one comment. planning stalkers meet&greets in strategic locations and calling paps to show they’re having dinner with producers, make DJs and singers talk about it, is not something you do if you haven’t even said who is your label to begin with. this is not a surprise photoshoot that begins and ends with the release of the magazine, it’s an album, it’s his main career and his main project for the future, i suppose, and the fact that there might be a single about to be released in 2 weeks or even if it’s not, there is (apparently) a complete entire album already done and recorded around the world in big secret for the past year about to drop in the near future, but said artist hasn’t said / wasnt allowed to say a word and didn’t find a way to engage the public to a project that should be exciting and great for everyone involved, is the shadiest thing ever and its something very unusual.  


I am here tonight because Ava told me that I could have my family back.

The ‘Brave-Ish Heart’ Stand Off (Favourite Scene, for Class Appreciation Week, Day Six)

*excited squeak* *wordless flailing* *deep breath*

This scene. Oh man, this scene is a writer’s wet dream, honestly. 

Now, this show isn’t perfect, or even entirely polished. It has pacing issues and things it could have done a lot better and some things it maybe shouldn’t have done at all, but at its core, it is wonderful no matter the quality of some of the details. (The characters. The strength is always in the characters.) 

And this scene holds the best viewing material of all. CONFLICT. In fact, it’s the most well done conflict scene in the whole show, even with the various fights with the Shadowkin. Because conflict doesn’t have to be a fight. 

Conflict can be a stand off. (Besides, there is a  gun and billions of lives at stake.)

This is four people, of four very different moralities and at least three different desired outcomes. Each want their own way, each has a different level of power and influence within the setting to try and achieve it. 

Let’s review. 

Desired Use of Cabinet: 

  • Charlie - that it is not used
  • Quill - use against Shadowkin
  • Dorothea - use against petals
  • Matteusz - that it is not used

Fucks given about the fate of the Earth (and themselves):

  • Charlie - some, but not enough
  • Quill - absolutely none
  • Dorothea - a lot
  • Matteusz - quite a few, to put it mildly

Assets for Achieving Their Goal:

  • Charlie - only one who can use the Cabinet, it all hinges on him
  • Quill - shouting, tears, severe emotional trauma and consequent need for closure via genocide (requires actual sympathetic person in room to have effect, overall: ineffective except on my heart)
  • Dorothea - gun, best understanding of everyone else in room
  • Matteusz - most universally liked person in room (as per usual), discrete texting skills (like damn, that boy made no typos), ability to swing objects

Like, what a mix. 

And it all just comes together so well: Charlie standing his ground, while Dorothea uses force to assist her rather reasonable/logical demand, and Quill desperately appeals to him as well as expressing annoyance whenever they deviate from what she considers important things to be considering. 

Plus all the while, you have Matteusz, the concerned bystander and then emotional manipulation tool for Dorothea. His initial slightly passive role in the stand off is made up for later when he knocks Dorothea out, removing one of the more volatile pieces from the board. *gives Matteusz a gold star sticker*

I’m sure I could say more on this, but I think I’ve pointed out the main reason I love it. In summary: 

The different motivations/moralities/dispositions. Opposing characters. Morally difficult decisions portrayed as such. No character is explicitly villainised (while Charlie and Matteusz are the ones with the moral high ground, the show passes no harsh judgements on Quill or Dorothea as to who was more ‘in the wrong’ between, because both characters had very sound reasons for their actions). 

It’s just a perfect example of the complex moral conflict that lies at the heart of the show and gives it such a strength. I never get tired of it. 


my fallout 4 oc, Carver :0 she’s probably gonna live forever just out of spite