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tnwritingblog · 4 years

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tnwritingblog · 4 years

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person A: *sighs sadly* nobody likes me

person B, who hasn’t confessed yet but has been giving A love and support through the years:

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tnwritingblog · 4 years

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give me some non nsfw of your otp showering together

i’m talking about them dorking around like little kids in the shower together bc honestly, i am here for that????

i want them fighting over the temperature, and for a solid five minutes flipping to knob back and forth and glaring at each other with intense hatred as the nudge it the other way and their partner just glares at them

the taller one grabbing the shampoo and putting it up high where they know smol can’t reach it or being mad and holding it just out of their reach just to annoy the other one

panic when one gets soap in their eyes and they fumble around like idiots while screaming because it B UR N S

person a rubbing shampoo into person b’s hair soothingly as the water thrums on their back and they kinda just stand there bc it’s peaceful and relaxing

fighting over the playlist and song and when a song they hate comes on they argue over who’s gonna go switch it bc the shower is warm, outside is NOT

speaking of playlist, them acting out a song dramatically like their in a music video and trying not to slip and die but still having fun

drying their hair together and attempting to make the wildest hairstyles with their damp hair and seeing who can get the weirder one

but seriously not everything has to be sexual

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tnwritingblog · 4 years

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Imagine person A of your otp being fatally wounded in battle and slowly dying in B’s arms while they brokenly sing ‘you are my sunshine’

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tnwritingblog · 4 years

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“hi I’m Denice, your new coworker :)”

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tnwritingblog · 4 years

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Benedict Cumberbatch is too pure for this world, Sherlock is the greatest show in the entire universe and Andrew Scott's acting is the reason I'm still alive. Thanks for coming to my TEDtalk.

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tnwritingblog · 5 years

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I say ‘I love you’, and I do. But what is ‘love’? It’s just a word. An intangible, one-thousand-year-old, four-lettered symbol. A symbol used in billions of different situations by billions of different people, and even apes (the few who know sign language, anyway). A sweet nothing, whispered across centuries. Is love just a biological bubbling? An evolutionary device tailored to ensure the continuation of the species? Or is it a marketing tool - fodder for blockbusters and pop songs? The commodification of love has us judging our relationships against onscreen romances and earworm chord progressions. But it must be more than that. Maybe love is defined by its sheer undefinability. Or maybe love is divinity, connection, concordia. Or a leap across an abyss. Or the poetry of parallel bodies. Or someone who jostles you out of the fog, who attunes you to the present moment, who unmasks you. Whatever ‘love’ is, it’ll exist long after us. When we floated the Voyager probe out into the eternity of space, hoping to contact extraterrestrial life, aboard it was a recording of author Ann Druyan’s brainwaves as she thought about, among other things, what it is to fall in love. Well, whatever it is, I feel it for you.

Benedict Smith

, Letter #4 (via

benedictsmith

)

Wow so true

(via airmodreamdream)

This is the first thing I ever re-blogged and the nostalgia emitting from every part of my body is getting to me. Sixth grader, me: oH yeS i tHiNk i uNdersTanD *re-blogs five times in two minutes to make sure it worked*

#nostalgia #goodvibes #whoops

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tnwritingblog · 6 years

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A Typical Day At Band Practice...

~Play through part one, cry, find rocks with my friend, go to the brass sectional and put rocks inside a computer in the computer lab, while making a google fortnite account, then walking outside to the garden, picking a squash and some tomatoes, taking them to the trumpets, then running away. “Where did you find a fucking squash?” As we left the trumpets extremely confused, they managed to make the best out of the squash and tomatoes. Smashing the tomatoes in the senior courtyard and burying the squash. We laughed our asses off (and this isn’t even the best part), the trumpet section leader came running… “Mr. A is coming!” With those words, we sprinted out of the courtyard and headed back towards the garden, contemplating between messing with the low brass or going to get another squash, really, we just made fun of the kids that can’t march for about ten minutes. Then we got a call from the trumpets in the courtyard. Mr. A. left them, and they had found a dead bird. “Hurry up, you guys gotta get down here.” Heading back to the courtyard, where we found the trumpets digging up the squash to then smash the already deceased bird with. After that, we threw tortilla chips into the sewer through the grate. “We feed the turtles.” The chips laid on top of the gunk water, so we thought that it was a blocked off sewer with solid mud at the bottom. Well… We were wrong. The idea to lift the grate and put the squash in the “mud” was born. Our friend lifted the grate, while the other threw the squash into the sewer. Thinking that the squash was just going to explode from the impact, while in fact, the thick sewer water swallowed our squash, as the trumpet section leader played taps for our fallen angel. After laughing for a solid fifteen minutes, a freshmen trumpet put the dead bird on a tortilla chip and put it in the sewer. “Bye buddy.” Playing taps again, proper burial for Mr. Burb.

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tnwritingblog · 6 years

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“scythes are impractical battle weapons” you say but i can’t hear you over the swish swish of my huge fucking scythe, which is cool

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tnwritingblog · 6 years

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WHY ARENT THERE ADULT-SIZED PLAYGROUNDS

LIKE EVERYTHING IS THE SAME AS A KIDS PLAYGROUND

BUT BIGGER

WHY DO WE NOT HAVE THOSE

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