Happyfrog56 - Tumblr Blog

if y’all see this floating around: yes, it’s from me, and yes, you can find the original post on hoyolab under the same user <3

one of my favorite things about Tumblr is that unless you're following a literal brand account or someone who has their first and last name as their username, you can follow someone who's just funny or shares your interests or something for like four years before you find out they're actually a famous artist or have 2 million YouTube subscribers or wrote a book that's considered a keystone reference work in all modern scholarship or whatever. one of many reasons this is the superior social media experience, which is impressive considering how bad it is here

what do they put in large rocks that make u just want to. stand on it.

I see a man (fictional), I am generally like "okay". I see the same man (fictional) being put in a situation, covered in dirt and blood, perhaps soaking wet, actively sobbing and shaking like a chihuahua, and I am saying "yay" and "yippee" and things of this nature

Are fedoras really that bad?

YES YES THEY ARE

all that magic and Rio still decided to wrap her hands around her throat oh so they’re lovers

im only saying this once

the only acceptable jobs for spider-man

broke high schooler

broke college student

freelance photographer

high school teacher

unpaid intern

pizza delivery guy

research assistant for doomed scientific project

guy who stands on street and spins sign for quiznos

being spider-man

and thats IT i dont want any of this “hes a genius tech ceo making millions” SHIT. Spider-man is BROKE and he missed rent this month and he has a tiny apartment and thats how its MEANT TO BE. he doesnt make money because he is our Friendly Neighbourhood Spider-man and not fucking Tony Stark.

Lemme tell u guys a story

In my freshman year, my great grandma passed away. She never threw out or sold anything worth keeping if she could help it, having grown up in the Depression, so when she passed, my grandma suddenly inherited a lifetime’s worth of treasured items. She distributed most of them to her kids and grandkids, saved some sentimental items, and donated most of the clothing and trinkets to charity. I got back the stuffed leopard I’d given great-grandma in the hospital; the fur was still as soft as it’d been when I bought it. One of the biggest things she had to sort through was jewelry. For a year after my great-grandma died, my grandma was setting out organized rows of costume jewelry on basement tables and chivvying her granddaughters to take what they wanted.

And then, after all the choosing, she snuck me into her room while my cousins picked through wristwatches. On her bed were two small jewelry boxes: an old wooden one, and a cushioned one in white pleather.

“I brought you in here because if I gave these to your cousins, they’d sell it. I don’t want these sold. Do you understand?”

I understood.

This is the story of the biggest lie my grandma ever told her mom.

Great-grandma’s birthstone was garnet, and she loved the look of the stones, but could never justify paying for some. Her husband worked constantly, and so did she, and new clothes for the kids was more important than jewelry at the time. When my grandma was 16, she saved her first paychecks to buy her mom a garnet ring for Mother’s Day; that’s what was in the wooden box. The original receipt, handwritten, was crammed into the lid. Great-grandpa saw that ring and teared up; he’d always wanted to get his wife something nice like that, but hadn’t ever had enough money for it. Determined, he vowed to change that. He set aside money for years, slowly, hiding it away in a box in the attic, vowing to buy his wife something she could always wear with her ring.

Time passed, and inflation happened, and he slowly squirreled money away in the hopes that jewelry might get cheaper again sometime. Time passed again, and age had little mercy on him. He got older, typed up a note, and placed in in the box, describing what the money was for; he knew his time was near. Under no circumstances was the money to be spent on anything other than giving his wife a nice gift. The letter read, “One day, my dear Ruth, you’ll have garnet earrings to match that ring.” It’s what great-grandma had always mourned missing; she had such a nice ring, and no good earrings to go with it.

Well, men don’t live forever, and when great-grandpa passed away, my grandma cleaned out her mom’s attic as she prepared to move somewhere smaller. Going through boxes of polaroids and paper clips, she stumbled on the box of earrings money, note and all. She stashed it with her coat, and after that day of cleaning, went to the jeweler before her mom could try and spend the money on something too sensible. She came back with the white pleather box; sure enough, still nestled inside that box were two clip-on garnet earrings.

”Mom never got her ears pierced, you know. That’s why it took so long to find a good pair.”

Once she’d gotten the earrings, grandma presented them to her mom, along with the note. The paper was obviously old and warped by moisture, but it was legible. My great grandma cried happy tears and treasured those earrings more than any other jewelry; the last gift her husband could give her. Decades after the fact, I’d seen her wear them to Christmas parties and worry over them, checking that they stayed on her earlobes.

There was never any note from great-grandpa. Never any box. Never any earring money. My great-grandpa had spent his saved money keeping himself and his wife confortable throughout retirement. To set aside hundreds of dollars, even a bit at a time, for garnet earrings, was never a thought that crossed his mind. My grandma had seen her mom, exhausted, wracked with grief, and lied through her teeth about where she’d gotten the money for those earrings. She faked the note and everything, making sure her mom wouldn’t wonder where the money came from, and never winced at the pinch in her own pockets. And she never told a soul, not even my mom, until great-grandma was safely and thoroughly buried herself.

something they don’t tell you about being autistic is that every character you write WILL end up autistic/autistic-coded whether you like it or not

it is truly almost incomprehensible that israel's week-long bombing of lebanon is the most intense aerial campaign in the 21st century, outpacing the american bombing of raqqa and anything russia has done. it's insane. all carried out with the full agreement of the US government

Remind me later.

the angel staying over at my house asked for a nightlight in their room and i told them buddy, don't you produce your own light? what're you gonna do with more? and they said they wanted to see why people like it so much. and also that the nightlight i own is blue and they're been trying to understand color. anyways i think they've stared at it for an hour now

I like how teens are too young to figure out their sexuality unless its heterosexual

she let me hit because i say things like “okie dokie”

Saying "ow" not because it hurts but because it seems to be the correct thing to say at the moment is such a weird human trait.

every time i start to feel cringe for being too deep in the hyperfixation i remember the intense depression i have waded through and have to remind myself that enjoyment is fleeting (so grab it with both hands), and life is for loving (so hold that love close), and if anyone thinks i’m cringe they must not be having a very good time (and i hope they can find a good time soon).

I woke up today and chose violence so to piss off the Star Wars dude bros I present you with female characters who could beat up Han Solo:

Would Obliterate Him in Seconds:

1: Any female Jedi

2: Any female Sith

3: Any female Mandalorian

4: Any female Inquisitor

5: Any Force Witch from any coven (Nightsisters, Brendok etc…)

6: Leia

7: Sy Snootles

Would Obliterate Him in Minutes:

1: Aura Sing

2: Cara Dune

3: Fennec Shand

4: Captain Phasma

5: Sugi

Wouldn’t Break a Sweat:

1: Any of Padme’s handmaidens

2: Any female Togruta

3: Jyn Erso

4: Homestly most female Star Wars characters this is just who I could think of off the top of my head.

A Close Fight:

1: Cinta Kaz

2: Paige Tico

3: Eleni Syndulla

4: Hera Syndulla (maybe not beat him in a straight fight, but absolutely outfly him.)

5: Dr. Aphra

6: Maarva Andor

7: Kadara Calrissian

8: Rafa Martez

Let me know about the badass women I missed in the comments, maybe I’ll add them.

(Some may be included in a general category like Asajj Ventress would destroy him, but is included in the Force Witch category. Also feel free to suggest Legends and video game characters, I’m just less familiar with those so I didn’t include characters from them.)

We all must do our part to bully the toxic Star Wars bros, together.

Also let me know if you disagree with the ranking of any of the characters, they aren’t ranked in any order besides general category.

I'm crawling out of the sewer to say it again: don't let anyone stop you from writing what you want to write.

Don't let people saying your writing is too 'self indulgent' stop you.

Don't let people saying your writing is 'not original enough' stop you.

Don't let people saying 'you shouldn't write this' stop you.

Write what compels you.

hi heres the entire twilight movie as a stamp

[misogynistic person who is biased against women and favors men in all circumstances] wow it's so crazy that in literally every show and book and movie ever made all the male characters are likable and sympathetic but all the female characters are shallow and irrational... obviously this is the fault of the writing and nothing to do with me

Do you think Eurylochus used to lie awake at night wondering if he had been more devout and compliant that 558 men wouldn't have drowned?

Do you think as he was watching Odysseus choose what Zeus would do, he remembered his captain's words. That planting seeds of doubt would cause them all to die?

happy 10 years to my mf star wars rebels

first watched it two years ago and it has become my everything!!!

Star Wars Rebels Changed my Life

But before I tell you why, let me begin with my introduction (I rambled and did not edit, so please excuse any mistakes).

I was seventeen when Rebels aired (I know, I'm showing my age). At the time I was still riding off the Disappointment of Clone Wars being cancelled, and didn't know what I would think of this strange new show that was Totally Different.

I had read a fanfic in the Clone Wars section of Fanfiction.net about a week before it premiered. I will add to the tags later when I find it. But it was from someone who was so excited for Rebels and since, naturally, there was no fandom yet since it hadn't aired, posted it under clone wars. I, after reading it, was intrigued and decided to watch it premiere night.

It was one of the best decisions I've ever made.

By the time Kanan entered the cockpit, talking to Hera about picking up this kid, I was in love with the show. It was so different from Clone Wars, but in a good way. It tugged at my heart and made me laugh. From that day on, I was a fan. I cried when Kanan died, I jumped for joy when Ahsoka descended the ladder (she is still my favorite character of all time).

This little animated show got me through college, when I was still trying to find my identity outside of my family. It was there when I started my very first relationship (who I am happily married to now). It kept me sane on the worst nights, crying when my roommate and her friend broke my heart.

And it's biggest impact on my life? Well, in a strange turn of events, Rebels is one reason I have an English degree.

When I started college, after years of reading fanfiction, I began to write my own. This is important because, when I was young, my dad destroyed any sense of writing fiction.I'm from Appalachia and he disapproved of my fantasy stories, believing my only works should pertain to my culture. Eventually I gave up, and put down every story I had poured my heart into, because I believed that he was right.

When Rebels came along, I was inspired by the community to write. Under the penname PentoPapergal18, I went into college writing a little piece called Silent, yet Heard, where Ezra is mute. It is a rough piece and clearly showed my years of inexperience, but the community was amazing, supporting me. I carried the first draft in a purple binder, writing it out by hand before typing it up.

My professor noticed I was writing in my notebook before her class started and encouraged me to look into an English degree. Because of her, I ended up accepting it as my second major.

Now, I have two self-published pieces, and started a local writers group. I am working on the novel my dad discouraged all those years ago, and plan on attempting traditional publishing. Rebels fanfiction gave me the confidence to work toward my dream again.

(also, I have two dogs named Zeb and Vader. So yeah)

Thank you, Rebels, for giving me comfort on the hard nights. For giving a community that sparked my dream again. For giving me characters that live in my heart forever.

Time and time again I return to your galaxy. Each visit an open hug and a greeting from an old friend. I can never repay you for your impact on my life.

Thank you, Ghost Crew. May the force be with you.