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Giveaway Contest: We’re giving away fifteen vintage paperback classics by Homer, Walt Whitman, Carson McCullers, Ray Bradbury, John Steinbeck, Shakespeare, and others! Won’t this collection look lovely on your shelf? :D To win these classics, you must: 1) be following macrolit on Tumblr (yes, we will check. :P), and 2) reblog this post. We will choose a random winner on August 19, at which time we’ll start a new giveaway. And yes, we’ll ship to any country. Easy, right? Good luck!

Destroy the myth that libraries are no longer relevant. If you use your library, please reblog.

And this is what I feel most of the time *laughs hysterically*

The shikasaku ship is superior simply because genius x genius in the friends to lovers way is just That good. and before you haters come at me saying sakura's not a genius, let me tell you that a) shut up b) sakura is a civilian born ninja and most people had no expectation from her. all she had was her unnatural chakra control. the fact that she came that far without any genetic advantages (hint: naruto with his huge chakra reserves and sasuke with his shortcut sharingan) is amazing on its own. and the fact that she surpassed her teacher who is a SENJU btw there's advantage there, is simply incredible.

i was going to talk about shikasaku but it turn into a sakura post my bad

You didn’t reblog a text post chain three years ago. Strange things start happening.

I want a story about a king whose son is prophesied to kill him so the king is like “whatever what am I supposed to do, kill my own kid wtf is wrong with you” so he just raises him as normal, doesn’t even tell him about the prophecy, and instead of some convoluted twist of events that leads to the king’s murder the son grows up and when the king is very old and dying and in excruciating pain the kid is just like alright I'mma put him out of his misery.

R E B L O G   T H E   P I G E O N .

good things will happen 🧿

things that are meant to be will fall into place 🧿

when i was 12 i babysat this girl for a few years and she would come to me and show me her art, drag me by my wrists and point at the pieces she’d made during the week. and she’d be like “do the voice” and i’d put on a sports-announcer olympics-style voice and be like “such form! this level of coloring! why i haven’t seen such perfection in crayola in a long time. and what is this? why jeff, now this is a true risk… it seems she’s made … a monochrome pink canvas…. i haven’t seen this attempted since winter 1932… and i gotta say, jeff, it’s absolutely splendid”  and she’d fall back giggling. at the end of every night she’d check with me: “did you really like it?” and i’d say yes and talk about something i noticed and tucked her in.

she was just accepted into 3 major art schools. she wrote me a letter. inside was a picture from when she was younger. monochrome pink. 

“thank you,” it said, “to somebody who saw the best in me.”