Yeah Heartbreak Sucks But Have U Seen The Ending Of Dps

collection of things I’ve overheard in some of my classes

History:

guy to my teacher-‘you know woody from toy story’s bi?’ ‘really? well there always was a vibe between him and buzz’

‘I thought Carlisle was near Newcastle’ ‘No, it’s on the other side of the country’

‘Emily, would you ever kill someone?’- shouted across the classroom

‘I don’t even know what a citizen is! Am I a citizen?!’

Biology:

‘sir, you are not a perv!’

‘oh my god! what an absolute ledge!’

‘why are punching holes on the cover of your book?’

‘no Ethan, you can’t add me on snapchat’

‘god, how did you not hear what i said? are you deaf or what?’  ‘umm i’m deaf in one ear’ 

English:

‘while watching Romeo + Juliet - ‘wow what a turn out’ 

‘ohh Romeos’ such a lad!’

‘woah bit extreme there’

‘they’re complete drama queens!’

‘well, you see this guy just nicked a boat, went to the middle of a lake and had his sexual awakening because he saw a mountain’

‘here’s me sitting on a toilet with no walls or roof while i was in Australia’

Spanish:

‘i asked a girl why her hair was like that (it was a weird style) and she turned around ‘i have alopecia’ God i wanted to die!’

‘waiit, you have the same birthday? thats mental!’

‘go see if he’s in the bathroom or SSC’  ‘i think we’ve lost him miss’

 ‘so did he really just stab himself in his hand? you didn’t do it?’  ‘well simply, yeah’

i’ll probably to them later if i remember or if more happen

okay i should stop im over dramatic

i hate time

it only moves slow when i actually want something to happen

its been less than 20 minutes since i messaged this guy and it feels like its been half an hour wtf

Dark Academia Extended Tag 🪐

Taken from @wellyouwontknow on weheartit

1. Are you going to learn Greek, Latin or French?

2. Will you drink coffee or tea as you read trough old books?

3. Running through the dark, mysterious forests behind the school at night or early morning walks around the school?

4. Will you read Kill Your Darlings or The Picture of Dorian Gray?

5. Will you read The Secret History or Dead Poets Society?

6. All-girls school, all-boys school, or going to a school for everyone?

7. Will you tell your friends about Oscar Wilde or Edgar Allan Poe?

8. Will you tell the rough truth or the sweet lies about what happened last weekend?

9. Will you prefer the sound of the crowded library (flipping pages, pencils meeting paper, soft whispers) or your shared dormitory at night (snoring, fire crackles, rain tapping against the window?

10. Running in the rain or laying on grass during summer?

11. At night, when they ask for a scary story, will you tell of true crime or urban legends?

12. Will your old radio play classical or jazz?

13. Will you take history or English class?

14. Will you dance in the moonlight, or play the piano, softly?

15. Will you prefer an old countryside manor, or a big city house?

16. In an empty classroom, will you solve equations on the blackboard, or search for answers in an old forgotten book?

17. Will you sit on a bench, in silence, with the person that you love, or dance at a ball with the same person?

18. Will you write music or poetry?

19. Will you go to a crowded reception, or spend the night telling horror stories to your friends?

20. Will you be a student at a boarding school in the countryside, or at a prestigious university?

21. A quiet and desired solitude or a group of friends with whom to break the rules?

22. Will you play Hamlet or Othello?

23. Will you pledge allegiance to the gods of science or literature?

24. Will you be forced to abandon love for ambition or ambition for love?

25. Will you visit rainy London or gloomy Paris?

26. Will you experience a forbidden love, because homosexual, or because incompatible with the social differences?

27. Will you play the piano or the violin?

28. Will you study late at night, or from early morning?

29. Will you be crazy about old novels or old movies?

30. Will you visit an abandoned chapel, at night, or a hidden library?

31. Will you wear tweed blazer or a trench coat?

32. Corduroy or plaid pants?

33. Oxford shoes or Doc Marten's boots?

34. A beige blouse or a black turtleneck?

35. A pocket watch or metal glasses?

36. Will you prefer the sound of dead leaves crunching under the feet or the feeling of the sun on your skin on a winter day?

37. Will you smoke a cigarette on the terrace of a cafe, reading the newspaper, or drinking red wine at night, a violin in your hand?

38. Will you spend hours in a museum, starring the same piece of art, or typing an essay on a typewriter?

39. Will you wear your hair tied by a ribbon, or braided?

40. A hazy graveyard at dusk, or a wild horse running in a field?

41. Will you prefer a Gothic-style building (high windows, towers) or neoclassical (columns, sober)?

42. Will you meet your love in secret between two shelves in the library, or behind a chapel?

43. Will you read Jane Austen or Henry James?

44. Will you wear the portrait of your loved one as a medallion, or place one of their letters against your heart?

my inbox is open! send me a number <3 (or do it yourself too)

My brother cracked my rib one morning and gave me half of his orange in the evening.

I remember being younger and sometimes wishing to be a single child, to have all the attention and gifts and time but when he was away from home for the first time, I remember crying and stroking his side of the sofa as if blurting out my first wish- for him to be home, without thinking twice, without a shadow of doubt. Even the genie cried. Growing up with a sibling is like being the only people on a stranded boat, constantly figuring out how you can live with them and questioning how you could ever live without them.

One evening, in a fit of anger, I told him how I never wanted him to be my brother and he yelled that he didn't ask for it either. The air smelled like kerosene and my chest was filled with arsenic. I was raging and threw his favorite toy aeroplane down the window, 7 stories of guilt and shame. He cried all night and I wanted to cut off my right hand, the hand that hurt my baby brother. I didn't know if he was ever going to forgive me or even talk to me. The next morning at breakfast, he didn't look at me or say a word, I felt like my chest was about to explode and guilt clouded my vision. But then, I felt a hand quietly holding half of an orange my way.

The only people on a stranded boat. How do you live with them? How could you ever live without them?

-Ritika Jyala, excerpt from The world is a sphere of ice and our hands are made of fire

nvm he messaged me back <3

i hate time

it only moves slow when i actually want something to happen

its been less than 20 minutes since i messaged this guy and it feels like its been half an hour wtf

The inherent homoeroticism of killing your enemy and immediately regretting it

Coursework

Hi, can some of yous leave recommendation’s for fiction books on/about female obsession

living your best dark academia life:

learn french, greek or latin

wear tweed, glasses and oxfords

read and write poetry

learn to play piano, and also the violin is magnific

always have a book on you 

be gay 

practice painting, drawing and other arts 

go to museums

murder?

i used to think that icarus’ death was just a tragic accident—the kind so prevalent in greek mythology, where the hero survives the most dangerous part but tragedy befalls in the most unexpected/preventable way as a result of hubris/arrogance/carelessness. but icarus’ fate was no accident. tragic, yes, but also beautiful in its inevitability: a tribute to the inexorable entanglement between love and death, desire and destruction, intimacy and decay — all of which are ultimately just forms of want and loss. after all, everything has a price, an equal and opposite reaction.

desire is synonymous with fire. it’s something i think mortals are only capable of experiencing in tiny doses: little fires in our guts, live wires down our spine, warm flushes across our cheeks. like taking very small sips of too-hot tea, desire must be drawn out over a lifetime of intimacy—lest it burn us up completely. but apollo feels things with all his immortal intensity: he is pure fire and light and heat. i am not sure there exists a purer form of love than that of the sun.

this is why icarus’ fate is no accident, nor another allegory on the dangers of hubris. it was inevitable from the start. the same way achilles’ virility and vitality was paid for with his death at such a young age, the heat from apollo’s fleeting, fatal moment of desire for icarus is the same as a lifetime’s worth of slow-burning love between two mortals.

i like to believe that icarus didn’t lose his life—not exactly. he just lived it all at once in a single, blazing moment of intimacy with the sun.

Going through the pile of books to go to charity shops and there’s this amazing kids history one that’s literally like

Give your friend a neolithic burial