• me: mom... dad... im g-
  • parents: gay?
  • me: going into battle and i need only your strongest potions
yellowcattower:

(X)

theotherwesley:

Me getting up in the morning like 

Stretchin’. Hittin’ the keyboard like

Friends comin’ online like



DID YOu SEE tHE THINGg MY GOD

terrorechoes:

having the worst internet connection in your friend group

image

grypwolf:

Ember lord they called him.
unimpressedcats:

i just …. can’t … quite … reach … 
keprion:

My reaction when an artist I like a lot tells me they were afraid to ask for an art trade. In that moment when I read the words I instantly let out a wordless groan followed by squeaking and heavy breathing of confusion and joy.

Every year, the bright Scandinavian summer nights fade away without anyone’s noticing. One evening in August you have an errand outdoors, and all of a sudden it’s pitch-black. It is still summer, but the summer is no longer alive.

Tove Jansson, The Summer Book (via snjorblom)

(Source: differenceetrepetition)