#i hate my fucking school

[kittyhazelnut]

I have been waiting to get a letter from the head of the nursing department at my school all fucking year that says I completed the first semester of school so I can apply for my LNA license. I have emailed her twice (which she ignored) and I asked her a couple weeks ago in a face-to-face zoom meeting of just the two of us, and she told me she would write me a letter. So why is it that I emailed her again yesterday and she just told me that I never even needed a letter because they submitted all of our transcripts to the board of nursing? Why isn't this something she would have told me when I fucking asked her to her face?

[dreamynightmarezz]

My school sucks. Alot.

Not in the list of what I said I would be posting, but whatever.

(TW for: drugs, smoking, swearing, pedophilia, weapons and assault.)

My school sucks so very bad. It is unclean, the teachers don't care about students whatsoever.

My friends math teacher (and my summer school teacher) told him he would get no where in life. MULTIPLE teachers at my school are pedophiles. The leadership program here sucks. TEACHERS swear. One 6TH GRADE teacher swears and insults students. She once asked/insulted someone in my class when she was substituting "are you on the spectrum?" When the student was asking a question. Students sell drugs (legal and illegal) and smoke it IN THE SCHOOL. Fights are daily, sexual and physical harassment is daily. Bullying is extremely common. Students are constantly found with weapons. I have a bad reputation at my school. Simply because I am different. I get harassed, assaulted, threatened daily. I am NOT safe in my school. Very strict rules that are very harmful to nurodivergent people. Such as: anything with a hood comes out inside any building, no matter the weather. (Forced us to take our hoodies off when the AC was broken and was extremely cold.) No headphones, even if no one is giving instructions or if it's silent working time. Eye contact. (I have gotten detention MULTIPLE times for not making eye contact.) There are only about 3-5 teachers in this school that actually care about you. And if you want accomodations? It is a LONG wait.

Did I mention they give out detentions for anything and everything?

[kotorinz]

so today was the that I was caught with my phone on me

[inkskinned]

the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.

three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.

two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.

their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.

one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.

i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.

i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.

and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?

you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.

a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.

someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.

[bixels]

Just gonna have to wait and see, right? Just wait and see! Just gotta wait and see! Who knows, we'll just have to wait and see! It's anybody's guess, we'll just have to wait and see! The future is exciting, we just gotta wait and see!

[opens-up-4-nobody]

:-P

[olliedollie1204]

taps mic. clears throat. remus being the embodiment of the thoughts and fantasies thomas considered "forbidden" means he was, at least for a while, the sole embodiment of thomas' queerness as something to be feared or ashamed of or disgusted by. before any of the other sides could accept this about themselves, before thomas could accept it about himself. remus is the source and the holder of thomas' most unwanted thoughts, which at one point (and while this is technically subtext it is like 1 inch away from being text) included thomas being gay. if we get any dialogue or confirmation of this in the series I will do 1000000 backflips break my neck and pass out on the floor

[hellenhighwater]

wait, you're a lawyer? for real?

I got an associates in stage tech, a double BFA in Graphic Design and 3D Design, and then went to law school on full academic scholarship, booked twelve classes, fell asleep during the Bar Exam three times (but passed with flying colors before the curve), and the motion for my admission to practice (put forward by my brother, also a lawyer), started, "My sister has many issues, but the one before the Court today is that of her admission to the State Bar of Michigan."

And somehow yes, they do let me practice law.

[tizzymcwizzy]

ladies and gentlemen and nonbinaries, i present to you, however unsurprisingly, yet another blonde man

[uc1wa]

18+ minors dni

tags: fem reader, oral sex

jaime reyes was a sweetheart, the cutest and softest boy you’d ever met. he wasn’t mean, didn’t argue, and always let you lead—whether that be when you both went out grocery shopping, or when you were sitting at the end of your bed, watching your sweet lover’s lip tremble and tears threaten to spill from his eyes.

"please, nena," he whimpers, his back pushed against the headboard with his legs sprawled out, his hands holding his thighs tightly, careful to not touch his length that is excruciatingly hard on his lower abdomen.

you’re sat at the end of the bed, sitting only in a bra and panties while jaime is completely nude, his face glistening from sweat. "it’s okay papa," you smile sweetly, one hand holding up your weight on the bed and the other rubbing the skin on his calf.

"don’t you wanna be good? i promise it’ll be worth it," you remind him, the hand that was touching his skin moving to your thigh and traveling to your lower regions. "i want you too, real bad, can’t you see?"

your legs spread open, showing the stain of wetness that’s blocking your core. his throat lets out another high pitched whimper, his fingertips turning white from the resistance he’s holding back.

"i’m so good, i haven’t even touched myself," and you know he’s good. he’s always good for you! jaime never touches himself unless your permission is granted, he’s always sending pretty pictures of himself while you’re at work, and if you ask him to be ready when you get home—he doesn’t think twice.

"my good boy, yeah?" your boyfriend whines while nodding his head, his teeth biting his lips as he finally watches you move, a sigh of relief escaping him.

you lean down, kissing up his legs until you’re at his tip which is red and veiny and ready for you. he watches with glossy eyes, his hands moving to the sheets beneath the two of you and deciding to fist those instead, wanting your touch to be all over him. "my pretty boy," you tilt your head teasingly to say once you’ve kissed his thighs.

the man above you could finish right then and there, coat your face all pretty and kiss it off of you like he has before. but you didn’t tell him to, so he wouldn’t dare.

"fuck, fuck, fuck," he whispers as your lips move to his tip, pressing a kiss to it before you spread your mouth, sucking smally.

he’s more than grateful. if you left it at that, he’d thank you. his wide eyes continue to watch you take him whole, his hand swinging to his mouth and his teeth biting on his fist.

it’s only until you look up that he stops, "it’s okay baby, wanna hear you tonight." and he loses control, moaning and whimpering and whining for you till he’s asking you how you want him to finish.

"in your m-mouth, nena? i can-fuck-i can on your face? p-please please i can’t hold it anymore," he whines and you look up at him knowingly, never taking your lips off of him until you’re swallowing his climax.

jaime’s so good for you, because he knows you’ll always be good to him. even if he has to wait, he knows it’ll be worth it, that you know just where and just how to touch him to make him get a taste of heaven.

hi honey bunches! tmrw is fdoc for me but i’m gonna try n be as active as possible! will happily take requests, just might take a day longer to respond bc of school, thank u <3

ALSO I HIT 1k LIKES YIPPIEE

[royaltea000]

paypig pov

[kittyhazelnut]

shout-out to the head of the nursing department who told us to read over the syllabus because there might be some questions about it on the test (and there were and I think I got them right) when she really meant it because they changed the room our class was held in and then made a snide remark when I showed up to the room we've had class in all year because I needed to rEaD tHe SyLlAbUs for the one (1) small change of one singular number in a 19-page document of repetitive bullshit.

[toytulini]

listen im ace and im pro kink at pride and whatever, but the way some of yall are wording your posts in response to the backlash against it is uh. really taking me back to the ace shitcourse era.

yall know theres nothing wrong with being a "virgin", right? that its not inherently shameful to have not had sex, to never have sex, even if youre not ace, even if you do want to have sex someday, like, its fine that you haven't had sex?

maybe if your problem is that theyre trying to police your behavior and shame you for expressing your sexuality, you can say that? instead of resorting to "haha stupid virgin gets no bitches" like my god. do you not hear how fucking regressive that attitude is? i know, i know, youre "joking".

get a better joke

[bacchuschucklefuck]

okay unironically I love so much that porter is like this world SUCKS its BAD here and it HURTS you why do you care abt it!!! and literally every single bad kid is like ngl we just hate ur ass it does not matter what ur philosophy is

[bixels]

This Twitter MLP human redesign drama is a mess, leave me the fuck out of it.

[gatoburr0]

I wanted to join idk

sharing is caring ffs Riley 😒😒 (read tags psst)