Melody is a gleek.
Melody is a oncer.
Melody ships Tike/Asian Fusion.
Melody ships Snow x Charming.
Melody is a baroness in the Tike fandom.
Melody loves Mike, Tina and Santana.
Melody loves everyone in OUAT.
Melody loves to talk.
Melody loves followers.

iammelodyg:

Before I was in any other fandom, I was first a gleek.
Always have been and always will be. 
T___T

iammelodyg:

Before I was in any other fandom, I was first a gleek.

Always have been and always will be. 

T___T


1 year ago · 124,743 notes · originally from gleeksrauhl

bleerios:

According to GleekOutBR, there is a candlelight vigil being held at Paramount at 8 PM PST to honor the life and death of Cory Monteith.
For anyone who is not able to attend this vigil in Los Angeles, please light a candle at 8 PM PST, adjusted for whatever timezone you’re in, and share it with Tumblr and/or Twitter via picture, Instagram, or Vine.
If you’re not able to do so, simply reblog this post or post a picture of a candle. I encourage any person who was affected or touched by the loss of Cory, no matter what fandom or part of fandom you’re a part of, to take part in this movement. Let’s make this the biggest Tumblr-wide vigil in history. For his family. For his friends. For his co-stars. For his fans. For Lea. For Cory.

bleerios:

According to GleekOutBR, there is a candlelight vigil being held at Paramount at 8 PM PST to honor the life and death of Cory Monteith.

For anyone who is not able to attend this vigil in Los Angeles, please light a candle at 8 PM PST, adjusted for whatever timezone you’re in, and share it with Tumblr and/or Twitter via picture, Instagram, or Vine.

If you’re not able to do so, simply reblog this post or post a picture of a candle. I encourage any person who was affected or touched by the loss of Cory, no matter what fandom or part of fandom you’re a part of, to take part in this movement. Let’s make this the biggest Tumblr-wide vigil in history. For his family. For his friends. For his co-stars. For his fans. For Lea. For Cory.

(via backseat-seren8)


1 year ago · 48,251 notes · originally from bleerios

sleep, eat, fangirl, repeat: Grief and Fandom 

wingardiumdelarosa:

stirlazy:

Cory Monteith (Finn Hudson on Glee) died last night. I woke around 4 because I was having a restless night and decided to just be awake for a little while in hopes of going back to sleep more soundly eventually and looked at my phone to find a text from…


1 year ago · 1,981 notes · originally from stirlazy
#creys

There’s going to come a day when we’ve all grown up, had a career, maybe got married and had kids, when were all going about our daily routine. Maybe you’re driving to work with the car radio on, or you’re making dinner with the tv on in the lounge. Life as usual, and then we hear a name. It’s the name of the person you had a blog dedicated to when you were 16. The person you had posters of up on your bedroom wall, or as your desktop background. The person off that show you used to watch every week, as soon as it came out, or that band you used to love. The person from the cast of a movie that changed your life, or the character who you scrolled through page after page of fanfiction of. You haven’t heard that name in a long time, and it brings everything back. And then the name is followed by three words you thought you’d never hear. Has Passed Away. And then you put down the potato peeler and lean back against your kitchen bench, or you pull over to the side of the road, and tears are streaming down your face. And all over the world, there are people who used to be just like you, with tears marking their cheeks and sobs forcing their way out of their throat, because they remember. Because fandoms never really die out. We never really move on. We never really forget.  

(Source: gallifrey-man, via backseat-seren8)


1 year ago · 225,617 notes · originally from
#creys #glee #my fandom

"I will miss the boy who can’t dance" — (via shotmetothesky)


1 year ago · 15 notes · originally from shotmetothesky
#cory monteith #sad #creys

Cory… ;( 

Today is such a sad day. The news about Cory’s death shakes me to the core. After hearing the news, I couldn’t really function well. I would do chores and forget about Cory for awhile, and then all of a sudden it just comes back to me. I couldn’t really cry but inside it feels heavy and a little hard to breathe.

I may not have been a hardcore Cory/Finn fan but this saddens me more than I have expected. I don’t know if it would have felt the same if it was somebody else in Glee. I want to shout or cry or break things but I couldn’t.

It has been awhile since I posted because I have been busy with work, then I moved to another fandom and I don’t think it is appropriate to post stuff here that are not relevant to the Glee fandom. But after learning about Cory’s death I cannot help but share the grief that everybody in this fandom has felt.

Glee is my very first fandom. It will forever hold a special place in my heart. It was during my addiction to Glee that I found tumblr, learned to create gifs, gained self-proclaimed good fandom friends (Shannon, Kaitlyn, Katy, Gale and more), used twitter as a stalking device, and so many more fangirl things.

I still watch Glee, still listen to their songs, still ship Tike, still love Santana. The show might not be like it was when it started oh, come on admit it, but I’m still proud to call myself a Gleek - always have been and always will be. My being a gleek goes beyond tumblr and reblogging and making gifs. When something great happens to the fandom, I celebrate. When something sad happens, I grieve. Maybe not in tumblr but in my heart I will always feel what the fandom feels.

Lastly, I love you, Cory. You will be remembered.

image



the-absolute-best-posts:

ladysouth:
As seen on Facebook. (posted by Homestead Survival)
A sweet lesson on patience. A NYC Taxi driver wrote:I arrived at the address and honked the horn. After waiting a few minutes I honked again. Since this was going to be my last ride of my shift I thought about just driving away, but instead I put the car in park and walked up to the door and knocked.. ‘Just a minute’, answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor.After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 90’s stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940’s movie.By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets.There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboardbox filled with photos and glassware.‘Would you carry my bag out to the car?’ she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman.She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb.She kept thanking me for my kindness. ‘It’s nothing’, I told her.. ‘I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother to be treated.’‘Oh, you’re such a good boy, she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address and then asked, ‘Could you drivethrough downtown?’‘It’s not the shortest way,’ I answered quickly..‘Oh, I don’t mind,’ she said. ‘I’m in no hurry. I’m on my way to a hospice.I looked in the rear-view mirror. Her eyes were glistening. ‘I don’t have any family left,’ she continued in a soft voice..’The doctor says I don’t have very long.’ I quietly reached over and shut off the meter.‘What route would you like me to take?’ I asked.For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator.We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.Sometimes she’d ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, ‘I’m tired.Let’s go now’.We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico.Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move.They must have been expecting her.I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.‘How much do I owe you?’ She asked, reaching into her purse.‘Nothing,’ I said‘You have to make a living,’ she answered.‘There are other passengers,’ I responded.Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug.She held onto me tightly.‘You gave an old woman a little moment of joy,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’I squeezed her hand, and then walked into the dim morning light.. Behind me, a door shut.It was the sound of the closing of a life..I didn’t pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly lost in thought. For the rest of that day,I could hardly talk.What if that woman had gotten an angry driver,or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away?On a quick review, I don’t think that I have done anything more important in my life.We’re conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments.But great moments often catch us unaware-beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.


Follow this blog, you will love it on your dashboard

the-absolute-best-posts:

ladysouth:

As seen on Facebook. (posted by Homestead Survival)

A sweet lesson on patience. 

A NYC Taxi driver wrote:

I arrived at the address and honked the horn. After waiting a few minutes I honked again. Since this was going to be my last ride of my shift I thought about just driving away, but instead I put the car in park and walked up to the door and knocked.. ‘Just a minute’, answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor.

After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 90’s stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940’s movie.

By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets.

There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard
box filled with photos and glassware.

‘Would you carry my bag out to the car?’ she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman.

She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb.

She kept thanking me for my kindness. ‘It’s nothing’, I told her.. ‘I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother to be treated.’

‘Oh, you’re such a good boy, she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address and then asked, ‘Could you drive
through downtown?’

‘It’s not the shortest way,’ I answered quickly..

‘Oh, I don’t mind,’ she said. ‘I’m in no hurry. I’m on my way to a hospice.

I looked in the rear-view mirror. Her eyes were glistening. ‘I don’t have any family left,’ she continued in a soft voice..’The doctor says I don’t have very long.’ I quietly reached over and shut off the meter.

‘What route would you like me to take?’ I asked.

For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator.

We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.

Sometimes she’d ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.

As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, ‘I’m tired.Let’s go now’.
We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico.

Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move.
They must have been expecting her.

I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.

‘How much do I owe you?’ She asked, reaching into her purse.

‘Nothing,’ I said

‘You have to make a living,’ she answered.

‘There are other passengers,’ I responded.

Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug.She held onto me tightly.

‘You gave an old woman a little moment of joy,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’

I squeezed her hand, and then walked into the dim morning light.. Behind me, a door shut.It was the sound of the closing of a life..

I didn’t pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly lost in thought. For the rest of that day,I could hardly talk.What if that woman had gotten an angry driver,or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away?

On a quick review, I don’t think that I have done anything more important in my life.

We’re conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments.

But great moments often catch us unaware-beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.

Follow this blog, you will love it on your dashboard

(Source: mishalmoorebloggyblog, via the-absolute-best-posts)


2 years ago · 130,528 notes · originally from mishalmoorebloggyblog
#awwwwww

(Source: speak-nows, via lphendersons)



celestialhybrid:

What I love about Josh is that he’s not afraid of acting emotional, the voice, the eyes……shame the sound guy fucked over the dialogue and emotional interactions Dallas & Keach had

(via holymarymargaretmotherofemma-de)



Yesterday at Disney 


2 years ago · 15 notes · originally from angie2point0