freesnack:

As Requested 

+ You walk out of your shitty roadside motel room that you’ve been staying in since you ran away from home. It hasn’t been cleaned since the 50s but at least no one will find you out here, in the middle of the desert. You head towards the ice machine, but someone is already there. It’s the most popular girl in school, who you’ve had a crush on since 6th grade. She’s run away too. 

+ The year is 1987, You’re part of a ragtag band of misfits that have been friends since childhood. All of you are gay, but no one has admitted it yet so rifts are forming in the gang. One summer morning you roller skate over to your best friend, the only other girl in the groups house to tell her you’re in love with her. Will it tear group apart once and for all or bring you back together? 

+  You and your closest friends sit on the roof of your suburban house watching the sunset. The crisp, nearly-autumn breeze blows against your over sized hoodie while you sip cheap, lukewarm beer from a paper bag. No one says anything, no one has to. 

+ It’s 1:30 am and you’re driving out of the city with your girlfriend asleep in the passenger seat. there are lights glowing on the highway and in the city behind you but it feels like its just the two of you, and you wish it could last forever

+ You’re on the road with a crappy RV you bought somewhere sketchy with your best friend and her dog on the trip of a lifetime trying to make it as a bluegrass singer. You fall in love over crumpled maps, roadside lemonade, campfire sing alongs, and grimy dive bars where you pay for meals by washing dishes. 

+ You walk into your room, satin gown flowing in your wake,You dramatically collapse into a dark velvet chair as if the cameras are rolling. You put on a record and pour your fourth glass of red wine. Your fifth husband has mysteriously died, good thing he left everything to you in the will.

+ You’re at a Halloween party in the basement of a seedy punk club, so wasted you can’t see straight. The ground starts shaking. More than it was before, are you imagining it? No. The bands screaming has gone from angry to terrified. The apocalypse is happening right now. 

+ You stand in front of the house at the edge of town. The house with boarded up windows. The house with broken glass in the yard instead of flowers, like everyone else in your small misty mountain town. The house no one talks about. The house you only go when you have no where else to go. You have someone to find in there, someone you need to bring home. 

+ You’re a music producer who died overdosing on cocaine at a club in the 70s. You awaken in the exact spot you died in the year 2073. Youre hungry, thirsty, and hornier than you’ve ever been. But most importantly, you look as fly as you always have and you’re surrounded by beautiful women. 

+ She’s an urban witch. A drugstore sorceress, mixing potions of Xanax and gasoline. Selling them on a street corner in the east village. No one knows her name, few know her face, But they say you’ll know her when you see her. You approach her on a chilled November night and offer a pack of cigarettes for a love potion. Hands shaking with anxiety and cold. She looks you in the eye and tells you you don’t need love potion. She’ll give you everything you want for free. 

+ You’re a nerd, a nobody, the kid who sits by herself at lunch. The kid who never talks and never gets noticed by anyone. Yet here you are, dressed in your big sisters clothes, standing in the coolest girl in schools living room while a party rages around you. Tonight you’re going to be cool. Tonight you’re going to be the life of the party. Tonight she’s finally going to realize you exist. This is either the bravest thing you’ve ever done or the stupidest.

+ You’ve been climbing the mountain for three days and three nights. Out of food, out of water, and utterly, painfully alone. Just when you think you can walk no farther, you hear a waterfall in the distance. With your remaining ounce of strength you launch yourself the final few yards. You collapse to your knees and peer into the clear, cool water. But Instead of seeing your face your entire life is reflected back at you. 

(Source: repressedcinema)

forever-my-soldiers-girl:

Part of the Valentine’s Day care package I just sent out

mango-pup:

Dogblr we need you!

Short version: I have a friend in New York working her first year as a teacher. Her students have a pretty rough life, so she wants to help them feel connected to the world. She’s asking for photographs and objects with stories from all over the world. If you’d be able to send them a photo and story of your pups (not fiction, just a snippet of your life) she’d be very grateful. Send me a message and I’ll send her address.

Long version:❤️💜💚💛🧡💙❤️💜💚💛🧡💙❤️

CALLING EVERY CREATIVE AND BEAUTIFUL PERSON I’VE EVER MET. If you’re reading this, that means you.

❤️❤️❤️❤️

I AM BEGGING for your help on this very important project I’m doing.

It’s called Mott Haven Meets the World.

The school I work at, PS 154, is in the South Bronx, an area teeming with poverty and crime.

The school is surrounded by projects and highway, by litter and broken glass. There’s very little green. Not enough art. It’s a bleak and scary place to grow up in and many of my students don’t step outside it.

They live in scary situations, in shelters, in abusive homes, or lonely homes, they’ve lost parents and loved ones, been exposed to sexual abuse and have a fear of violence. They hear gunshots at night. They have to take care of little siblings because their parents are not able to. There are hard working, caring, loving parents and families doing their best and struggling because of the crushing society they live in. The people in this community carry the weight of the world on their shoulders.

All they’ve been through has made my kids put up such a hard front. I was out of my depth with how high their walls, with the stony faces I got from some of them.

I came into the school in the New Year and threw the rule book out the window. Instead of writing lesson plans, I brought in things to play with. Objects of beauty, bright sparkly jewelry, vibrant soft fabric, stuffed animals, some live bugs, smooth stones and pebbles. Sensory objects. Snuggly blankets that were made for me by friends who loved me. Soft pillows.

AND WE PLAYED.

I played music. Songs about hope and peace and change and beauty. We danced. We laughed. They spontaneously made their own bad ass music, banging out amazing beats with intense and evocative rhythm.

They are experiencing JOY. A flood of it and they are responding by showing kindness, maturity and calm. They are asking questions and slowing down to find some answers. They are dressing up in beads and capes, imagining themselves as warrior kings and queens.

They are writing and drawing and hugging and loving and living. Making music and building community.

It’s nothing short of a miracle! I have never laughed so much. These little sweet babies who have grown up in such a harsh environment are BLOOMING. Taking on leadership roles. Becoming self assured.

This momentum cannot be stopped, because it’s alive, but it can pick up steam.

These students have just flourished by letting their guard down enough to see that they are LOVED. They are loved so hard by so many caring, nurturing adults in that building.

Let’s take it further! Let’s show them that the world loves them.

I’ve traveled so much and seen so much goodness and beauty in this world, but I came back to teach in my home city to realize how bleak and segregated it still is.

The science is sound. Stress and learning don’t mix. I want them to be flooded with so much warmth and positivity from all over the world, that their woes melt away, or at least are forgotten for a while.

Over the past two days, I’ve seen all ~60 of them show kindness, happiness, love and tenderness, all because I stopped saying no and started saying yes! Yes to fun, to life, to creativity and exploration and expression.

SO HERE’S WHERE YOU COME IN:

Send us care packages.

Fill them with love.

With objects representing world cultures. Letters and photographs of you and your family having fun together.

Photos of your babies and your pet, smiling and loved. Photos of people you have lost, and the stories of what they meant to you.

Photos of the people who make you laugh hardest, who pick you up and give you a shoulder to cry on when you’re at your worst.

Photos of girls and women loving each other and having each others backs. Photos of men being kind and soft and nurturing.

Photos of warm embraces. Wedding photos. Candid, silly photos. Loving couples. Fierce, nurturing women. Soft, gentle, kind and loving men.

Photos of people of all races, genders and religions mixing and having fun.

DROWN OUT THE HATE AND VIOLENCE. Give them something to hold onto when they leave the safety of our school and go back into hard, dark lives.

Today I planted dozens of interesting objects in my classroom for the kids to just play with. I also planted the below photo of my dad, Donal Kerins, reading to me and I can’t tell you how many of them came up asking questions about it. I planted dozens of personal photographs in the room among the toys and beads and objects and they came to me with questions of wonder.

Send boxes that represent your life and the good things in it. Your culture. Your family. The wildlife that lives where you live.

Pass on a sweet gift that loved one gave you, one you can part with, knowing it will reach the hands of a love and touch starved 5th grader who the world has tried to make an adult.

Send foreign currency! They loved my Chinese money!

Fill them with objects pleasing to the eye and touch.

Natural objects. Smooth stones. Pretty rocks. Dazzling sparkly jewelry. Carved marble or stone figurines from places you’ve traveled. The kiddos are Wakanda/Black Panther obsessed, so anything of that aesthetic would be especially appreciated. Send beads and feathers and soft fabrics with pretty calming fabrics.

Send flowers. Flower crowns. Leis. Things to make them feel pretty. Face paint!

Send drums and shakers and other percussion instruments. These kids have TALENT that needs to be nurtured. Our teachers, administration put in crazy hours trying to flood them with love, but they need more. They need more to really believe it.

Send photographs you’ve taken of natural objects. Animals. Dazzling images. Calming images. We may not have much neighbor in reach, so send images of it to us.

It ignites their imaginations. I think this is how we can change the world. At the very least, you will change the lives of the students in our community.

My goal is to get enough packages that the 5th grade can’t handle them alone. That we have to pass some onto younger grades to open and sift through. That we get so many we have to get parents to help.

That we get creative ideas bouncing around about how to sort or share our information.

That we have so many packages full of love, that we have to start walking around, handing them out to strangers. Strangers who are sad and downtrodden and alone. Perhaps that will bring a little joy into their lives. The people of Mott Haven are so hard working. There are parents desperate to help their children, to see them succeed and grow and flourish.

Let’s MAKE IT HAPPEN.

Maybe I’m crazy. Maybe I’m gonna get myself fired. But there are at least two or three hundred of you I’m gonna start personally harassing if I don’t get a box of goodies from you soon.

NOTHING COMMERCIAL PLEASE. Nothing with plastic or advertising. They get enough of that. Send them things with meaning. Jokes and stories, artwork you’ve created or picked up on your travels. GOOD, PURE STUFF ONLY PLEASE.

I know you guys are crazy enough to do this for me. And spread the word.

raincityruckus:

to-galgadot:

💜😍💜😍💜😍

i am overcome

(via paintedimagining)

truclifford:

gazzymouse:

d4rke57mund:

me: *deletes fucking everything off my phone*

phone: your storage is almost full

When you delete things off of a mobile device (like a phone or digital camera), the file goes to your phone’s recycle bin (just like on a desktop computer or laptop), typically an invisible folder named .trashes or .trash. There, it continues to take up the same amount of memory storage as it did before you ‘deleted’ it. To empty your mobile device’s recycling bin, plug your phone into your desktop or laptop via USB as a memory device, right click on your desktop/laptop’s recycling bin/trash, and tell it to empty your recycling bin/empty trash. Your computer will empty all .trash/.trashes folders, including the one on your phone, actually deleting the files permanently this time, freeing up your phone/camera’s memory space. Reblog to save a life.

(I know this works on MAC with my Andriod, it’s not too far a stretch to do the same on Windows and/or with other phones as well. In fact, it should be easier to do on Windows since Windows Explorer is more conducive to finding hidden folders.)

FINDING THIS RANDOM POST ON MY DASHBOARD GAVE ME THE BEST ANSWER TO SHIT I’VE BEEN GOOGLING ABOUT FOR MONTHS!!!

HOLY

(Source: benwinstagram, via flirting-with-psychology)

apathetic-revenant:

penny-anna:

telltalelily:

61below:

penny-anna:

Bilbo was declared dead while he was away in the Hobbit (and had to do a bunch of paperwork to get declared alive again) but there’s no indication he was formally declared dead after leaving the Shire, even though most people assumed he had died.

Therefore I posit: having a missing person declared dead in the Shire requires the consent of their next of kin. Whoever Bilbo’s next of kin was at the time of the Hobbit (possibly Otho? I’m not sure) had him declared dead at the first opportunity but Frodo refused to ever do it.

Frodo had anxious hobbit bureaucrats knocking on his door every couple of years like ‘Mr Baggins… blease… it’s been 10 years… he was eleventy-one… can we fill out his death certificate yet’ and Frodo was like ‘absolutely not’.

Early on he genuinely couldn’t bring himself too but after a while it was more that he enjoyed irritating the local magistrate’s office than anything else.

I raise you: the hobbitish bureaucracy has no means to re-declare someone dead. They had no precedent to declare someone who was once-dead dead again. They would need the Thain, the Mayor, and the Master of Buckland to agree to changing the statute, and since the Thain and the Master are too amused by the whole henclucking that they haven’t gotten round to it just yet.

I’m upping the stakes with: last time Bilbo was declared dead when he was, in fact, not dead, they removed the law stating that you can have someone declared dead without a body, so when Bilbo left (happily aware of this legal loophole and snickering) he could never become legally dead again.

I am loving the implication here that Bilbo can literally never die in the eyes of the law. He’d love that.

a hobbit parent telling their kids the story of Mad Baggins and being like “thanks to a loophole in hobbit law he’s technically still alive today”

a hobbit child misinterprets this and lies awake at night worrying that Mad Baggins is still out there and will appear in their room without warning 

(via unpretty)

mud-foot:

mud-foot:

i have thus far read two entirely separate fics where spidermans dad meets spiderman and is like “?????? child???? this is child. oh my god where are your parents. im your parents now” and it is the literal best. the shenanigans of worlds ultimate dad trying to adopt his own son. perfection. 

(I dont know if tumblr is still weird about links, check in notes and i’ll link the fics there)

fic one      fic two

(via autumngracy)

badjokesbyjeff:

I am getting so sick of millennials and their attitude.

Always walking around like they rent the place.

badjokesbyjeff:

I know global warming is bad

but wouldn’t it be kinda funny if dinosaurs made humans go extinct?

gaiearth:

minelskede:

writing-prompt-s:

With the year almost over and with no major accomplishments, you want to try one last thing: spread a message of love in hopes that it will reach all corners of the internet to make people’s day. 

You are beautiful and worthy of love. Never forget this.

I love you @writing-prompt-s ❤️

This prompt doesn’t need a story

Us sharing this post is the story

(via badjokesbyjeff)