neighborhoodwatchbec:

Are you an Illinoisstuck, Indianastuck, Michiganstuck, ACENstuck, or any combination of the four?

Are you a girl? Do you like girls? Are there females in our local fandom community that are important to you?

If so, STOP EVERYTHING YOU ARE DOING. Just for a few…

kidpixelated:

ASSASSINS UNITE TO UNLOCK! KEEP AT IT EVERYONE! WERE ALMOST THERE!

SEDRFGTBHNJ! THIS TENSION! I CANT! 

ASSASSINS! MAN YOUR INTERNETS NAO!

(via aaami)

I… just finished ACRevelations…
I… uh… am rendered speechless, and my eyes are sore from crying…

Requiescat in pace, Altaïr and Ezio…
*curls up in a corner & quietly sobs*

I was strolling in the our school field with two of my friends, during break. It was a nice, summery day, the ground was ablaze with little white flowers and grass, we were all in a good mood… Then, one of my friends, (let’s call her A), was commenting about the beauty of these small, pretty white flowers. The world was at peace and tumpty tumpty tum…

Then…

THEN…

Out of the blue, a bird DIVE-BOMBED at our heads, my friends and I yelled a bit and then we laughed, until the bird took a U-turn and proceed to dive-bomb us, again…

We did what any sensible person being dive-bombed by homicidal birds would do: RUN. LIKE. HELL.

Of course, with the universe ready to laugh at me and aided by my hyper-mobility and accident-proneness, I tripped over my own feet and fell. I had, most spectacularly, managed to sprain my right ankle!

Don’t get me wrong, a sprain’s a fairly common occurrence… It’s just surprsing that an accident-prone kid like me has never sprained herself before (Nevermind that I have faked sprained ankles before).

Oh well, there’s always a first time…

So, there I was, flat on the ground, keeling up in pain. By the time my friends A & V reached me, I sprawled on the grass, laughing my arse off…

They tried to help me up, but I could barely hobble a few steps. So, V ran off to get some help, leaving me back comfortably reclined on the ground with a very amused A remarking about the fact that she had never heard of anyone spraining their feet while wearing sports shoes.

We spied my friends walking towards me. I waved at them (I was still flat on the grass). They found it funny, and found it even funnier as i nodded to acknowledge them… (Everyone in school knows I have a history bumping into things, tripping over absolutely nothing and getting hurt in the weirdest of ways… It’s an art, baby!)

Things became all the more stranger as they figured out a way to transport me from the field to the school building… It involved grabbing my limbs and leaving the rest of my torso dangling between the four (or was it three?) people transporting me… (Before you jump the gun, I ain’t all THAT heavy okay? I’m exactly 56 kgs!)

No sooner than the procession began, we gave up as L remarked I was more liable to dislocate my bones this way (Hyper-mobile, people).

In the end, I managed to hobble back to the corridor (like a boss) and sat there (like a boss) till school ended, keeping myself entertained by alternating between reading a Tom Holt book and sketching skeletons in various postures. You see, it was half-day, and my class was on the first floor and it was a nice summery day… Plus, I got a free period to chill, so all was molto bene! (Uh, the school corridor is open from one die, and surrounds a quadrangle court, so I was sitting in shade, grinning greetings to teachers while munching food!)

And here I am, as of now, lounging about in the house, cringing when my foot pains (BADLY), telling my tale to you and wasting everyone’s time. But hey, ‘tis my first sprain, and hence, a very momentous occasion for me!

So, there was this teacher. And then, there was me. We both sat facing each other. He asked me out of the blue, “Soooo… Have you studied anything about this subject?”
The subject in mention was utterly new to me. I replied truthfully, “Sort of.”

He frowned, as though he couldn’t comprehend what I just said.

Then he queried, “It is so tough?”

I had to fight the urge of banging my forehead on the wall. I repeated, enunciating most clearly, “Sort. Of.”

He parroted his query, “It is so tough?”

I sighed internally and gave up.

This was going to a very long half hour…

is questioning the moral integrity behind being rallied around to vote for a damn kid from our school just because she is from our school.

Just because she is from our school doesn’t make her a deserving candidate to win. All parents do not have the resources to distribute flyers & make announcements in their ward’s schools to garner a fake amount of votes. There are others who deserve the win so much more.

It is so fucking unfair! I can’t even begin to describe my disappointment & annoyance.

A competition should have a fair playing field and THAT, very sadly, is not helping.

Never mind, I know most of the people are in this for, ahem, “the glory of our school” and other jazz.

Okay, the sprain is getting to me. I’m not accustomed to hopping on one leg as a usual mode of transportation for any purposes whatsoever.