spent my easter afternoon giving bucky wings what even is my life
Sorry by Halsey
If you see this you are OBLIGATED to reblog w/ the song currently stuck in your head :)
*rolls eyes* I could go on for hours about this…
If you’re a rookie (or heck, a really annoying veteran marcher) don’t try to patronize those who are older or more experienced than you unless they are very clearly in the wrong (for example, 15 steps ahead of the line). It’s not only disrespectful more often than not, but chances are you don’t know what you’re talking about and they will be able to realize and correct their own mistakes without input from someone who doesn’t have as much experience as they do (assuming they’re self-aware enough to realize they’re not perfect). Plus, if it’s really an issue the directors will address it, you should probably just focus on learning your own show.
(And all you older/more experienced marchers, don’t be jerks when know you’re in the wrong)
most teenagers need 9 to 9 1/2 hours of sleep per night. that leaves 14 1/2 hours open per day.
the average length of a school day is 6 hours and 42 minutes.
most teachers say students get around 3 1/2 hours of homework per day.
on average, high school students have about an hour of extracurriculars a day.
teenage who have jobs work two hours and 25 minutes per day (more on weekends) on average.
allowing an hour for dinner, and another hour total for showering/grooming, that’s a bit over 15 1/2 hours.
that’s an hour more than what’s left over after you factor in a healthy amount of sleep. and that’s without any breaks/transportation time/snacks/family time etc.
the expectations that society has for teenagers mean it’s basically impossible for us to get enough sleep unless you sacrifice one or more of the above activities.
but noooo, it’s those damn phones
(you can find pretty much all of these statistics with a simple google search)
being a writer is like *googles synonym for bad* *googles synonym for happy* *googles synonym for tired* *googles synonym for walked* *googles synonym for
Halsey – Nightmare (2019)
Your daughters do not exist to give you grandchildren
warnings: extreme fluff
Tony is breathless, and Peter is grinning. Their skin is damp and cooling, and the painted stars above could almost be shining, dark though it is. It always seems to end like this, with Peter curled lightly around Tony, smiling brilliantly up at him as he waits for him to come back to himself.
“You look happy,” Peter murmurs, and loves him for it.
“I am happy,” Tony replies sleepily, like he’s got a secret, and Peter loves him for that, too. “I have reason to be.”
Peter is grinning, cheeks growing hot in spite of himself. He can’t help it. It’s all still so new – Tony’ weight warm and steady on top of him, Tony’ legs woven together with his, Tony’ hair tousled and spread out over Peter’ chest like a curled wisp. “Do you, now?”
“You know I do.” There’s a hand on his cheek, and Tony is leaning up to kiss him, soft, unhurried. And then he pulls back, shifts his position, propping himself up on his forearms, now planted carefully on either side of Peter’ head. He brushes a stray lock of hair off Peter’ forehead, and his eyes are strikingly soft. “Do you know the story of how people came to look as they do now?”
Peter shakes his head. “Will you tell it?”
He knows the answer.
Tony seems to sense this, but gives it gladly anyway. “Of course.” He clears his throat theatrically, and begins. “There was a time, in the beginning, when humans looked very different than we do today. We each had four legs, and four arms.” With that, he takes one of Peter’ hands in his own, and presses the wrist to his lips before continuing.
“We had two heads, as well, and so we each had two necks…” – a kiss to the fresh purple marks blooming at the hollow of his throat – “…two noses…” – a quick nuzzle at the tip of his nose – “…and two mouths.” He traces a fingertip over the seam of Peter’ lips, and kisses it, delighting in the way Peter sighs, before he carries on with the story.
“But the gods, fearing the power we possessed in this form, saw fit to split us….” Here he slowly drags a finger down the center of Peter’ chest, “…right down the middle, body and soul alike. And so now we are all condemned to live our lives as but one half of a whole, until we can find the piece of our soul that was stolen, and be complete.”
Peter is suddenly very aware of the quickening of his heart, and Tony’ hand resting over it. “Will we know them when we find them, I wonder?”
Once again, he does not wonder. He knows. He has always known.
Tony does not hesitate for a moment before answering, “I found you, didn’t I? And I know you.”
Peter could not stop the blush or the smile spreading across his face like rosy dawn in the morning sky if he tried, and he does not try. “And I know you.” He tilts his head up just as Tony angles his down, and their two mouths fall to meet each other as waves fall to the shore, their four arms circling each other and holding, tight.
“And now that we are together, as we are meant to be,no one challenges us” Tony whispers in a hot rush against his lips.
“Tony,” Peter breathes back. And then he is lost, to the sweet downward push and drag of Tony’ hips, to the taste of coming home.
It really says something about how society treats children that today I told a 13 year old I was proud of her hard work and she nearly cried into my shoulder.
•the randomness that is me•@braindump03@witchy-n-stuff03@aesthetic-n-stuff3
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