pencil chucking
week 1 of friendship: this is a cool person
week 30 of friendship: this is a gay egg

smaug-official:

sokka is a gift 

kardashy:

i found my senior quote

kardashy:

i found my senior quote

petpup:

today a teenage white boy looked me straight in the face, pointed at himself, winked at me, and said “so how about helping papa bear with his math homework?” and i think i was speechless for a total of 10 seconds before telling him i dont associate with people who call themselves papa bear

billywick:

daverdad:

the entire lord of the rings from the rings perspective

hand hand river dirt gollum hobbits pockets pockets finger envelope fire hand neck neck finger hobbits neck neck neck pocket finger LAVA

fusrodumbass:

kosmological:

phandoms-united:

art-sex-drugs:

I have finally hit my breaking point. For as long as I can remember I have endured my mother’s abuse, whether it is verbal, emotional, or as seen here physical. I can expect some act of violence on a daily basis, and her beating me is not an usual occurrence, but today something snapped. My mother did this unprovoked, and this time she didn’t stop. Usually it’s bad for a little while and then she’s done, today it went on for what seemed like forever. At a certain point I decided I was going to do something I never do, call the police. You see, my mother is a highly respected and very well known person where I live. She is on the board of ed, worked for CPS for many years, and is close personal friends with people like the local chief of police, director of our local CPS unit, and so on. I always knew that calling wouldn’t go anywhere and just upset her more, but today I had to try. While she was kicking me I found my opportunity, and somehow managed to get away from someone more than twice my size. I ran as fast as I could, knocking things over behind my, trying to find a phone. I dialed and they listened and my mother proceeding to beat me over it, while I screamed for help. For the second time today, I managed to get away from her and ran to my room. I barely had enough time to lock my door, before she starting trying to get it, to the point that she ripped my door off the frame. I decided I was going to stay locked in there, until the police came. The past few months I have been collecting evidence against her, voice recordings, pictures like these, and videos of her violence, so they couldn’t dispute what was going on. But I was dead wrong. 

When the officer finally came up to my room, I attempted to tell him my side of the story, but before I could get a sentence out he silenced me. HE told me that this was my mothers house, and I needed to live by her rules. If I didn’t she had the right to punish me. He also told me to be tankful for her, because he wanted to press assault charges against me. finally, he refused, despite my begging, for him to take me to a shelter for teens. 

I am utterly disgusted by the injustice that occurred today. I pray there is no one else out there who is living in such a situation. I am not sure exactly what I am getting out of writing this, except maybe that it’s just nice to be able to open up about this, when I have had to keep it a secret my whole life. idk. sorry for posting such heavy shit. 

Signal boost the fuck out of this

Firstly, thank you to everyone who has cared or been affected by my post. The overwhelming support that has poured in is truly remarkable. Over the past 24 hours I have received upwards of 1500 messages, asking about when this was, how I am doing now, and how can they help. To begin, this post was made way back in June after I was so disgusted with the way that the police treated me, they downright victim blaming, and I wanted it to be heard. It originally got about 100 notes and I was satisfied knowing that my feelings were validated. When I woke up yesterday morning I found that it had grown to about 4000 notes, overnight, and continued to amplify over the past two days.

In hopes of putting some of your worries to rest, I am no longer living in my mother’s house. It was a long summer, while I essentially exhausted every legal option I had to get out. CPS started an investigation that went nowhere, I tried to find another family member or friend that would take me in but it didn’t pan out, and even attempted to get myself emancipated, but without having a steady income it didn’t end well. Then almost two weeks ago, my mother caught onto what I was trying to do, and while I was away for the weekend, texted me telling me not to come back. She made it so that I couldn’t collect my belongings, and only had a backpack full of things in my possession. Currently I am staying with family until I have the means to get a place of my own, and trying to get myself enrolled into a local school, so that I can finish out my senior year.

I made this post somewhat naively, never thinking of the impact it could have. So when, so many of you have gone to my inbox sharing your own stories of hardship (and I encourage more of you too do so), it gave my perspective on how big this post became. Seeing the influence I have right now, I want use it to enact some change. The tumblr community is infamous for discussing change, but not acting upon it. Many of you have voiced strong opinions and a great desire to help. After thinking this over (and my that I mean coming up with hastily this last night) , I decided to startup a paypal account as means to donate to charities that work to end child and domestic abuse.

The donations, as they are received, will go into a PayPal account I set up. The following is what I plan to do with the money donated:

            -The first 300 donated will go towards necessities (As previously stated: I was kicked out, and am in need of some basics)

            -After 300 is reached, 90% of every donation thereafter will go to Joyful Heart Foundation

- The other 10% will go into a saving account for my college endeavors. (I am basically on my own to pay for it, and can only legally work part time) 

Not trying to offend anyone, but it is my understanding that if gif’s from a tv show, and photographs of Starbucks’s coffee cups can get millions of notes, why can’t an attempt to make a difference regarding something so horrible and yet far too common (3.6 reported cases in the U.S. each year). Please support me in taking this issue out of the dark, as well as helping those who have suffered. Even if you think that you have nothing to give, as little as a dollar can make a difference (it adds up!), and more importantly your spreading awareness about a worthy cause. 

Click here to donate!

holy shit guys reblog this. this is important.

winxhesters:

potato-tots:

secretlifeofageekygirl:

hugstyles:

why couldn’t i be born with an older brother who is my best friend and has hot friends that flirt with me and drives me places like mcdonalds when im sad and punches rude boys in the face for me.

My brother once sat on me and farted until I passed out

my brother duct taped me to a treadmill and turned it to the highest setting once

when I was four my brother locked me in a ferret cage for an hour on Christmas Eve

sea-shells-sea-shore:

when you’ve looked at a word so long that you progressively think “is this even spelt right? is this even a word? is this even English?” until you’re like “who even am I?” and begin having an existential crisis over your homework

nethport:

compliment the person you reblog this from in the tags

neongenesist:

Anime was a mistake.

rawdi-kun:

dying before your friends and welcoming them to hell like

image

kohwala:

lindsaylohoean:

WHY DOES YOUR NOSE RUN AND YOUR FEET SMELL WHERE’S THE LOGIC

#tweetlikeJaden

cielrouge:

eren-j-aeger:

Do you ever start a series and the entire time you’re watching the first episode you have your eye on that one character?

Like;

That one.

I want him.

image