this is the part i was talking about

cordwainerbird  asked:

Hey dude, how open are you to talking to new folks and such? I absolutely love your work and it would be such an honor just to talk about stuff with you. Because even aside your incredible art you seem like a real interesting person!

Shit dude you butter me up too much. I appreciate the kind sentiments but I ain’t nothin’ special. I’ll talk to just about anyone who wants to chat but I can’t say I’m any good at keeping a conversation going. In all honestly I gotta disagree with ya, I’m a really boring person. I usually just kinda sleep all the time, I don’t really do anything substantial or really have anything worth talkin’ about. I think I end up coming across as spacey and unfriendly because of that. Hell I haven’t even gone to a movie in two years. Most exciting part of my day today was waking up at 7pm instead of 8pm. Kind of a huge loser neet over here. 

But yeah aside from all that feel free to hit me up brah.

alternative pronouns to they/them are good and let me tell you why.

english is one of the only languages where they/them can be comfortably adapted to a single person. other languages don’t have this option often.

support people who use pronouns like xey/xem and zhi/zhem. support Jewish people who use the nonbinary genders listed in the Torah. support people who go by pronouns that mean “it” in their languages. support people who make up their own pronouns.

and if you use nontraditional pronouns or pronouns from another language please know your gender and you are valid and beautiful, and your pronouns deserve to be respected.

6

I know your act. You do your little dance, you beat polygraph machines, you always manage to guess the right culprit after missing the first four or five times. You whip that hair around and fall over every reasonable girl that Guster hasn’t unsuccessfully hit on already. And now you’ve made your way to O'Hara.

Every time I see that new official art where Victor and Yuuri are training in Russia this….. thing pops into my head

When they first get there Yuuri is like “are you gonna give me a tour?” And Victor is like “sure!” He then shows Yuuri around the entire building, starting from the locker rooms, going through the hallways with him and showing the small restaurant/cafe where all the skaters eat when they train for hours and hours a day.

Then Victor pulls him to a dark hallway somewhere deep in the building, presses him against the wall and kisses him so hard because “you’re here. You’re here living with me, training with me. I’m so happy.” It gets kinda hot and heavy until after like 10 minutes they can hear Yakov yelling their names somewhere in the distance. They pull away from each other, huge grins on their faces and Yuuri is blushing a little. Victor drops his head on Yuuri’s shoulder, breathing heavy and he’s like “do we have to go there? Can’t I just take you home?”

Yuuri chuckles, gently wraps an arm around his neck and says “I want to test the ice and I wanna see you skate here. I’ve seen videos from your practices but I want to actually see you here in your home rink.” And then Victor blushes because !!!! And he kisses his fiancée one last time, a gentle peck on his lips before leading him back to the rink where all the other skaters and a very pissed Yakov is waiting, complaining about how Victor was supposed to quickly show Yuuri around and it’s been over an hour!  Victor and Yuuri just smile at him as Yuuri apologizes for being late.

Georgi is probably looking at them with hearteyes because “ah, that young love” And Mila is grinning knowingly at them, giving them a thumbs up from behind Yakov’s back

4
4

exo’rdium in japan // junmyeon “taking pictures with his eyes” ft. sebaekchan’s extreme secondhand embarrassment

10

Mean Girls, Seventeen edition: Who are the plastics? They’re teen royalty. If Pledis was Ceci Magazine, they would always be on the cover. Plan V + My Angel

agirlcalledfrost  asked:

OH OH OH PLEASE TELL US A BOARDING SCHOOL STORY PRETTY PLEASE

so my school had this thing called “senior skip day,” except that senior skip day didn’t exist and every year the administration sent out emails in the spring that were like DON’T FUCKIN SKIP CLASS OR YOU WILL RECEIVE RESTRICTION (restriction was like, my boarding school’s equivalent of detention where instead of staying after school you had to go to bed early and help stuff envelopes advertising the summer program until your hands were BLOODIED AND CRIPPLED BY CARPAL TUNNEL) and every year the seniors were like YOLO THEY CAN’T PUNISH ALL OF US!!!!!

  • spoiler alert: yes they can? THEY ALWAYS CAN.
  • 200 years of american high school and teenagers still think that there is a cap limit on kids in detention and that you can leave after 15 minutes if the teacher doesn’t show up.

anyway, my senior year, we all got together and nattered at each other until some brave soldier (i feel like it was my friend paula but WHO KNOWS) was like “OK SENIOR SKIP DAY IS THIS THURSDAY!!!! NOBODY GO TO CLASS OR UR A SCAB.”

  • she didn’t say scab because she’s not from the 1920s and we aren’t newsies, though this story would be way more interesting if we were
  • what she said was “YOLO THEY CAN’T PUNISH ALL OF US!!!!!”
  • except not yolo because it was 2009 and drake hadn’t been invented yet except as a dear sweet boy in a wheelchair.

we also used this email system to communicate with one another that has very deeply informed the way i understand email and which probably makes it very frustrating to be my friend and receive emails that have subject lines like “URGENT” and then just 42 links to the same florida georgia line youtube video.

  • I’M NOT ASHAMED, but in that way where like i kind of AM ashamed so i’m really aggressively NOT ashamed? 

so the day of reckoning rolls around and my alarm goes off at 8 (class started at 8:05 but i liked to PLAY WITH FIRE when it came to being late; my mom actually asked the school to stop emailing her when i was a sophomore because i was late so often that their rote “Mrs. Ofgeography we are emailing you to say—” was CLOGGING UP HER INBOX and she was like “i GET IT MY CHILD IS THE MOST BORING MISCREANT OF ALL TIME.”) and i looked at my roommate elle and she looked at me and went, “you going?”

“hell no,” i said. “YOLO. they can’t punish all of us.”

elle, who was far prettier and far cooler than i was with the notable exception of her obsession with tswift’s “love story” and her tendency to look at the endangered species list and cry sometimes during study hall, quickly bizounced across the street to this shopping center thing where all the cool kids smoked in secret where huge trucks dropped off clothes for the Dress Barn. i think there were also tennis courts nearby. more importantly there was this chinese food delivery place and a lil restaurant that made HELLA BAGELS.

  • WHAT KIND OF BAGELS?
  • FUCKIN
  • HELLA.

off goes elle! meanwhile i’m like, “yessssss i’m gonna use senior skip day to watch 14 hours of tv shows and eat frozen peanut butter bars that i stole from the dining hall! I’M GONNA LIVE LIKE I’M 23 ALONE IN CHICAGO ON A WEEKEND WHEN MY ONLY PLAN IS TAKEOUT AND CUDDLING WITH THE FAUX-SNOW-LEOPARD BLANKET I WILL ONE DAY SURELY OWN.” 

of course, during this time the administration was continuing to send out emails that reminded us with increasing urgency that senior skip day was NOT A THING and that we were ALL GETTING RESTRICTION if we didn’t get our STUPID ASSES TO CLASS, GODDAMNIT, WE ARE NOT RUNNING A CIRCUS HERE. 

but i was like! yolo, motherfuckers!!! i already got into college, YOU CAN’T TOUCH ME.

at some point during the day elle and our friend ginna came back to the room with takeout from the chinese delivery place and we sat on our floor eating it and probably watching veronica mars or looking at the endangered species list and crying.

all of a sudden, elle said, “guys shut up, guys shut up, GUYS SHUT UP,” and ginna and i were like, “WHAT we have a LOT to SAY about FRIED FUCKING DUMPLINGS, ELLE,“ and elle said, "did you hear that?”

“hear what?”

that!”

‘that’ was the sound of one of our dorm moms, mrs. f, knocking on doors and saying things like, “IF YOU DON’T GET YOUR BUTTS TO CLASS IN 5 MINUTES YOU’RE ON CATEGORY 4 RESTRICTION FOREVER.” elle quickly scampered up our raised beds to hide in the corner, where a tiny human like elle could actually hide from view; i leapt immediately into what we called a closet but was basically a cubby with a flap that was DEFINITELY not meant for a 5'8” individual with knobby as hell knees.

our door, which was never locked because we both hated the effort of typing in the lock code, opened. mrs. f said, “mollyhall?”

i held my breath. 

  • i should add here that i seemed to be operating on like a scooby-doo level of logic where basically i thought that she was somehow NOT ALLOWED to investigate?
  • like, if she can’t see me, there is NO POSSIBLE WAY that she could prove i’m in here, right?
  • she’ll just poke her head in and be like oH GOSH NO KIDS HERE and leave!!

you can see the flaw in my logic.

mrs. f sighed. “mollyhall, i know you’re in here, i literally heard your voice ten seconds ago.”

  • there’s no WAY she guesses i’m in the closet!!!

“mollyhall, i know you’re in the closet.”

  • NO YOU DON’T
  • I AM SCHRÖDINGER’S SENIOR

“mollyhall—”

there was a creak. mrs. f stopped. it wasn’t actually a “creak,” so much as this like, prolonged groan? like it’s the sound an elephant would make if it sat on a really large accordion.

i poked my head out of the closet. mrs. f looked at me. elle sat up.

i said, “where’s ginna?”

  • YOU KNOW WHERE GINNA WAS.

“um,” said elle, “she’s in the—”

  • GINNA NO

ginna yes.

i really wish i could describe the sound the ceiling made when it collapsed. it sounded a lot like the way losing your breath feels. i sort of remember ginna falling in like, really slow motion, like i could see the expression on her face. i didn’t really think about how i would describe this in words. ginna’s face said:

  • oh no.
  • what have i done?
  • this was a mistake. 
  • i regret a series of decisions that i have made.
  • is there a way out of this?
  • are those oreos under mollyhall’s pillow?
  • why are there oreos under mollyhall’s pillow?
  • mollyhall, you HAVE a food cupboard, what good is a food cupboard if you don’t—
  • oh, crap.

she belly flopped onto the floor. i mean, the girl bounced. and then she just laid there. mrs. f looked at her. elle looked at her. i looked at her, still mostly in the closet. we were all going to get category 4 restriction forever.

ginna said, “hi, mrs. f. i feel like i should explain.”

4

start thinkin’ bee

anonymous asked:

I can't believe no one has been / is in love with Bellamy Blake. It's not realistic.

Gina Martin

Clarke Griffin

Me

Bellamy fans

Bob Morley