I hope you remember for the rest of your life how, very likely minors, killed themselves because they identify as something. You looked at your sad life and said “wow im pretty bored today, lets tell a teenager they should kill themselves” like seriously. You tell us we need serious help (yeah and most of us do) when you are telling mentally ill 13-18 year olds that they dont deserve to live because they look at something and say “hey thats me.” Its called coping and saying its unhealthy to cope this way is stupid because its better than me killing myself just because of how sick i am. Coping is normal, and the way i cope is perfectly healthy.
Leave us alone, we didnt hurt you.
Freedom is in sunlight, mountain hikes, riversides and in the night’s sky full of stars. Freedom is in laughter and in tears, and in moments we hold someone we love. Freedom is in breaking bread together. Freedom is in the quietness and in your breath; it is deeply felt in ordinary moments. Freedom is simply knowing what’s real. Freedom is doing what’s right. Real freedom may seem pretty boring by today’s standards; it is not spectacular, bedazzling, enthralling or entertaining — but it means absolutely everything. Freedom is a forgotten land waiting for you to remember. Begin to remember. — Bryant McGill
So I was pretty bored earlier today, and I stumbled across this screenshot I saved. I don’t know if anyone responded to this, but I decided to roll with a fanfic loosely based on @percyyoulittleshit’s post. (Hope that’s alright!) It’s unedited, fair warning, but I’m posting it anyways.
A blast of cold air engulfed Annabeth as she entered the bakery, followed by the sweet scent of a freshly baked cake. This was probably the best idea she’d had all day.
‘Sally’s Sweets’ had been open a few months now, but Annabeth had been so busy with AP’s, finals, and track that she hadn’t even had a passing thought about stopping into the little bakery. But now that she had, she was pretty sure she’d be a regular. The shop was small, just two tables with two chairs each placed in front of the windows. The walls were painted a bright blue, and the one wall had a mural of a beach hand painted on. And then there was the front case. Oh, that beautiful little case filled with cakes and cookies and beautiful pastries.
Annabeth found herself in front of the case, debating whether she should try the dark chocolate cherry cupcake or the vanilla blueberry one when a voice stated “My favorites the blueberry, it’s hard not to have one every day.”
Annabeth looked up. A boy about her age stood before her, tan with dark, windswept hair and green eyes. Flour was smeared across his cheekbone, and stuck in his hair. It was all Annabeth could do not to drool.
“Well,” she started, and swallowed her excess saliva quickly. “I guess I’ll have to try that one.”
“Awesome, for here or to go?”
“For here,” she replied. “Don’t really have anywhere to be.”
The boy put on a pair of gloves, and put the cupcake on a plate for her. “How about some lemonade or something to drink?”
“Lemonade would be great, thanks.”
“Alrighty, that’ll be $4.34.”
Annabeth paid and, when the boy wasn’t looking, left a generous tip in the little jar labeled 'College Fund.’
The boy retreated into the back, and Annabeth sat down, eager to try the cupcake. Truth be told, she wasn’t having the best birthday. But just one bite of the desert changed that.
It was sweet, but not overly so. The blueberry frosting was creamy and fresh, and the cake was so fluffy. Annabeth couldn’t help the noise of appreciation she made at the desert.
Suddenly, she noticed the boy back at the counter, smirking. She finished the bite and asked “What?”
“Nothing, I just like to see how people like the food when they first try it. My mom’s such a good baker. It makes both of us happy to see other people enjoy her stuff.”
“Yeah, this is amazing. I’ll definitely be back.”
The boy wiped his hands on his apron, walked over to the table and sat down. “Usually we get people here with a friend or on a first date. Why’re you here by yourself?”
Annabeth sighed. Truth be told, she was kind of glad for the company. But she wasn’t sure she should tell this guy the truth. She didn’t want his pity. However, one look into those sea green eyes, she found herself spilling her woes.
“Well, it’s kind of my birthday. The problem is, my dad, step mom and half brothers are out of town for a wedding. I stayed home for work. But they won’t be back till day after tomorrow.”
“Oh man, that sucks. No one should be alone on their birthday,” he replied.
“No, it’s fine. My friend Piper treated me to breakfast this morning. She has work from three to eleven though.”
“Wait, Piper McLean? Waitresses at the Cabana?” He asked.
“You know her?”
“Yeah! Used to go to camp with me, out in Long Island. We weren’t super close, but we’d dare each other all the time.”
Annabeth’s mind was reeling. “Camp Half-Blood? The one with the strawberry fields, and the climbing wall?”
“How’d you know?”
“That’s where I met Piper,” she replied.
A wide smile spread across his face. “Wow, they weren’t wrong about the whole 'small world’ thing. Hey, no one should be alone on their birthday. I close up in an hour. Would you ever wanna grab dinner? Your choice where. I mean- you don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just figured, since it’s still kinda early and you didn’t have other plans-”
“I’d love to. How about burgers at Five Guys?” She replied, smiling.
His stomach growled, and she laughed. “Burgers sound amazing right now. My treat?”
“Only if you insist,” she replied, getting up to grab her bag.
“Be back in an hour?”
“Sounds like a plan!”
“Oh, and I forgot to ask,” he continued as she got to the door. “What’s your name?”
“Annabeth Chase. Yours?”
“Percy Jackson,” he replied.
“Annabeth Chase, before you go,” he continued, walking to stand in front of her. “You have a smear of frosting on your face.”
With that, Percy swiped his thumb across her cheek, wiped the frosting on his apron, and walked back into the kitchen. Meanwhile, Annabeth stood at the door another moment, successfully flustered.
This was turning into a decent birthday after all.
Freedom is in sunlight, mountain hikes, riversides and in the night’s sky full of stars. Freedom is in laughter and in tears, and in moments we hold someone we love. Freedom is in breaking bread together. Freedom is in the quietness and in your breath; it is deeply felt in ordinary moments. Freedom is simply knowing what’s real. Freedom is doing what’s right. Real freedom may seem pretty boring by today’s standards; it is not spectacular, bedazzling, enthralling or entertaining — but it means absolutely everything. Freedom is a forgotten land waiting for you to remember. Begin to remember.
Perfection is the opposite of progress. Once you’ve reached perfection, there’s nothing more to come. It’s a final state with nothing to expect. Nothing to do. Nothing to improve. I think that’s pretty boring.
my therapist today when I told her I wish I’d never make mistakes
Sighing Rial placed her paws on to her purple cloaks pockets, leaning back against the frozen tree she took in a big breath, puffing it out, watching as the cloud of breath floated away, It was a pretty boring day today today with Sans off to god knows where and papyrus sleeping..thank god… would she love a drink right now, a nice sweet, would make even the dullest of days bright, The two had recently gotten in to a small fight, each said a few things and now well…she was trying to cool down her sizzling temper.
“But without you Im incomplete~” She sung aloud, her earphones in the music blaring, it was always one way to tune out the world and at least it gave her some sense of…fun. “True love, True love~ it must be True love~” Opening an eye ever so slowly, the blue flair in it slowly simmering, finally her temper was down. as was the heat radiating from her, how ever it had melted most of the snow under her.
Nagisa Hazuki had been an inmate of the Iwatobi Correctional Facility off and on for the greater part of four years, so long it began to feel like home. He’d made many friends on the inside, as well as some terrible enemies. This time, however, Nagisa found himself in a cell all alone, and for good reason. Having nothing but walls and bars to stare at made most days pretty boring.
Today was not one of those days.
A tall man with blue hair and red glasses walked by his cell. “Hey!” Nagisa shouted. “You’re not Mikoshiba! Who are you?”