Abbey, 18.
Fangirl.
Jesus freak.
Whovian.
Potterhead.
Avenger.
Sherlock (wait what are we called?).
Psycho.
Art Major/Creative Writing Minor.
Lover of all things cute, funny, and awesome (like animals and puns).
I’m also into a huge list of other shows and things but honestly I just don’t want to list them out and you don’t want to read them, so… check out the blog! ;)

hiddlestalker:

*AGGRESSIVELY STILL ISN’T FINISHED WITH HOMEWORK*

(Source: agentrodgers, via thequietsinger)

Notes
530831
Posted
4 months ago

youaintshitok:

Chocolate comes from cocoa, which is a tree.

That makes it a plant.

Chocolate is salad.

(via thequietsinger)

Notes
542306
Posted
4 months ago
summertimelovegirl:

thecutestofthecute:

captain-snark:

moist-fondling:

themanicpixiedreamgrrrl:

Literally me when I hurt people

oh god oh god oh god im so sorry is it here did i hurt you here oh god im so sorry friend

OMG AT THE END WHEN HE JUST SCOOPS THE CAT’S HEAD TO HIS CHEST. FUCK.

I will reblog this until the day I die

I think we all will.

summertimelovegirl:

thecutestofthecute:

captain-snark:

moist-fondling:

themanicpixiedreamgrrrl:

Literally me when I hurt people

oh god oh god oh god im so sorry is it here did i hurt you here oh god im so sorry friend

OMG AT THE END WHEN HE JUST SCOOPS THE CAT’S HEAD TO HIS CHEST. FUCK.

I will reblog this until the day I die

I think we all will.

(Source: 4gifs, via powerqueenregalshipper)

Notes
692580
Posted
4 months ago

So I randomly was gone for a long time (like 2 weeks)

and i can totally tell y’all missed me so much :)

haha jk

but really

(Source: myotpisjesusandme)

Notes
3
Posted
4 months ago

So I randomly was gone for a long time (like 2 weeks)

Notes
3
Posted
4 months ago

twistedtheuntoldstory:

merlincholia:

thefoxxybenedict:

Traversing the galaxy for intergalactic travels to Pigfarts!

this should be one of those, “mandatory reblog” posts for the starkid fandom because like, this is where Starkid comes from…

this was also improvised

(via starshiprangerrachel1)

Notes
71984
Posted
4 months ago

shellfish-machiness:

You know who else is underrated? Owl City. This introverted guy who wrote a bunch of songs on his computer in his parents basement. With lyrics like “reality is a lovely place, but I wouldn’t wanna live there” and “please take a long hard look through your textbook, cause I’m history” and he tweets stuff like “got groceries. Enough social interaction for the week” and “girl I ain’t no astronaut, but I need a little space” and I love owl city

(via gonecrazy-backin5)

Notes
124838
Posted
4 months ago
yonderdarling:

mastergrandmaul:

thegrimsleeper:

How to make guests uncomfortable in your home

This is the single greatest thing I have ever seen.

*bryan fuller scribbling down notes in the distance*

yonderdarling:

mastergrandmaul:

thegrimsleeper:

How to make guests uncomfortable in your home

This is the single greatest thing I have ever seen.

*bryan fuller scribbling down notes in the distance*

(via someboredidiot)

Notes
188710
Posted
4 months ago
myotpisjesusandme:

there are two kinds of people…

lol who brought this back?

myotpisjesusandme:

there are two kinds of people…

lol who brought this back?

(via tumblinginprogress)

Notes
89
Posted
4 months ago
withmoore:

lexlifts:

alyssaaraee:

i didn’t know alpacas were so majestic

it is my goal to have one of these in my backyard when i am older 

boing boing

withmoore:

lexlifts:

alyssaaraee:

i didn’t know alpacas were so majestic

it is my goal to have one of these in my backyard when i am older 

boing boing

(Source: iloverandomfandomsxx, via demon-angel-halfblood)

Notes
482044
Posted
5 months ago
nobodycars:

delicatness:

checkmyshoe123:

gratuitousabs:





“If a clock could count down to the moment you meet your soul mate, would you want to know?”


     One minute, 37 seconds.     My legs are shaking. Holy cow, there is no way I can do this. None.     One minute, 29 secods.     I glance around at the faces surrounding the room. Of course my Meeting would take place in the gross, overcrowded cafeteria.     One minute, six seconds.     Somewhere within these four walls, someone has the exact same countdown on their wrist. They’re going through the exact same pressure as me.      54 seconds.     Mom said I should be excited, not nervous. Yet I still find myself wiping my sweaty palms on my dress. I can’t believe she talked me into wearing a dress. I mean, shouldn’t  my Soul Mate meet me as I normally am? All plain jeans, blah shirts, and wild brown curls?     30 seconds.     Something deep within me tells me to stand up. I do, drawing the attention of my tablemates. They all know too. They smile encouragingly up at me. I chew my lip nervously.     25 seconds.     That same feeling pulls me towards the center of the room. My stomach drops away from me as I take a step in that direction.     20 seconds.     I continue in that direction. With each step the tempo of my heart picks up.     19. Faster.     18. Quicker.     17. More rapid.     16.  It’s racing.     Oh my god this is it. The moment my life changes forever.     My eyes search frantically around the cafeteria, searching for someone who looks as nervous as me. For someone who’s heading towards their future with no sense of direction like me.     10 seconds.     The feeling directs me slightly to the left. I turn to accomodate.     5. My heart has given up entirely.     4. I stop walking.     3. Just waiting left.     2. Everything is about to change.     1. Deep breath.
     0000 d 00 h  00 m  00 s
     Someone bumps my shoulder. I twirl around and my gray eyes meet blue, blue ones.     “Hello there, love. It appears as though we’re Soul Mates then, eh?”     As my words fail me, the only thing I can think is “I’m so glad I shaved this morning.”


I’m sitting outside a cafe when it happens, sipping some cheap drink, pretending to enjoy the sunshine. The counter runs to zero, and there is an audible click, the tab deactivates, falls off. The clink of polyurethane to cobblestone floor is echoed a few feet ahead of me. I shake a proffed hand, look up at a disdainful face. 
“This is all I get?”

It’s just a couple more weeks, now. I’ve been watching closely as the numbers tick steadily down. Just a couple more weeks, I keep telling myself. Out of my group of friends, I’m on what they like to call the “fast track,” people whose numbers start much lower than others. 
Two weeks, six days, fifteen hours. The clock keeps ticking. Two weeks, one day, four hours. 
The days are getting so close now I’m pretty sure my uncontrollable excitement is starting to seriously annoy everyone around me. My friends tease me incessantly about who they imagine my soul mate will be. Tall, short, fat, dimples, nail biter, foot tapper.  
At one week, three days, and seven hours, the clock stops. 
Instead of a soul mate I get condolences, a therapist, and a broken clock.

he had always tried to cover up his clock, it made him feel uneasy and he preferred not to know. He want the moment to be right because it feel right, not because the numbers on his wrist (however accurate they might be) said so. 
Even so, He knew it is soon,  the exact time slipped his mind but he knew that there were only hours left when he showered that morning. He had casually wondered what happens to the clock when it reaches zero…
And so, on this day, the most important day of his life, Sean made no unusual effort, the red scarf around his wrist stopped the nerves. And the board under his feet distracted his mind. Where was he going? Sean wasn’t sure. Fate knew.
Grinding to a stop at a busy road, his eyes were drawn to a boy in a bright blue sweatshirt, carefully unwrapping a bright red scarf from his right wrist. He had his eyes closed, and appeared to be holding his breath.
Suddenly he opened his eyes, but before he looked at his wrist he glance upwards. Sean felt the thump of his heart stopping as their eyes met. 
The boy in blue began to run to Sean, his face full of happiness and uncertainty, forgetting to watch traffic. Sean was too late. All he could do was shout.
Blue was becoming stained with red as Sean ran to the fallen boy, He lifted his right wrist to find the clock stopped at 0d 0h 0m 1s and with a haunting feeling he began to unwrap his own wrist, he didn’t know what to hope for.
Sean’s clock had stopped at 0d 0h 0m 1s.

Oh, God, what happened last night? was the first thought that crossed my mind when I woke up. I knew that going to the bar wasn’t going to end well, and the hangover didn’t help. After a couple minutes of sitting, I decided just to deal with it and get ready for the day.
Today felt like it was gunna be a bad day. I knew that this hangover would make me a complete mess for the day. But, there’s nothing I can do about it. I was stupid last night, so I’ll just pay the consequences.
I got into the bathroom, and I smelled the horrifying scent of puke on myself. I immediately got into the shower and got this wretched smell off. While showering, I began to wonder what happened last night, considering the whole night was blacked out.
I started thinking about everything that could have happened, then finally, I thought about my clock. I had known the time was close, but I never bothered to check the date. Oh, don’t be worried, I thought. There’s no way it could have happened then. I went on with my shower, but the thought was still in my head.
Finally, I gave in, and looked down. When I did, I almost had a heart attack. No… no! It can’t be! I started panicking. No, no. No! I ran to my room to lay down in my bed to try and get this thought away, but it couldn’t leave my brain, those wretched numbers.
0d 0h 0m 0s

nobodycars:

delicatness:

checkmyshoe123:

gratuitousabs:

If a clock could count down to the moment you meet your soul mate, would you want to know?

     One minute, 37 seconds.
     My legs are shaking. Holy cow, there is no way I can do this. None.
     One minute, 29 secods.
     I glance around at the faces surrounding the room. Of course my Meeting would take place in the gross, overcrowded cafeteria.
     One minute, six seconds.
     Somewhere within these four walls, someone has the exact same countdown on their wrist. They’re going through the exact same pressure as me.
      54 seconds.
     Mom said I should be excited, not nervous. Yet I still find myself wiping my sweaty palms on my dress. I can’t believe she talked me into wearing a dress. I mean, shouldn’t  my Soul Mate meet me as I normally am? All plain jeans, blah shirts, and wild brown curls?
     30 seconds.
     Something deep within me tells me to stand up. I do, drawing the attention of my tablemates. They all know too. They smile encouragingly up at me. I chew my lip nervously.
     25 seconds.
     That same feeling pulls me towards the center of the room. My stomach drops away from me as I take a step in that direction.
     20 seconds.
     I continue in that direction. With each step the tempo of my heart picks up.
     19. Faster.
     18. Quicker.
     17. More rapid.
     16.  It’s racing.
     Oh my god this is it. The moment my life changes forever.
     My eyes search frantically around the cafeteria, searching for someone who looks as nervous as me. For someone who’s heading towards their future with no sense of direction like me.
     10 seconds.
     The feeling directs me slightly to the left. I turn to accomodate.
     5. My heart has given up entirely.
     4. I stop walking.
     3. Just waiting left.
     2. Everything is about to change.
     1. Deep breath.

     0000 d 00 h  00 m  00 s

     Someone bumps my shoulder. I twirl around and my gray eyes meet blue, blue ones.
     “Hello there, love. It appears as though we’re Soul Mates then, eh?”
     As my words fail me, the only thing I can think is “I’m so glad I shaved this morning.”

I’m sitting outside a cafe when it happens, sipping some cheap drink, pretending to enjoy the sunshine. The counter runs to zero, and there is an audible click, the tab deactivates, falls off. The clink of polyurethane to cobblestone floor is echoed a few feet ahead of me. I shake a proffed hand, look up at a disdainful face. 

“This is all I get?”

It’s just a couple more weeks, now. I’ve been watching closely as the numbers tick steadily down. Just a couple more weeks, I keep telling myself. Out of my group of friends, I’m on what they like to call the “fast track,” people whose numbers start much lower than others. 

Two weeks, six days, fifteen hours. The clock keeps ticking. Two weeks, one day, four hours. 

The days are getting so close now I’m pretty sure my uncontrollable excitement is starting to seriously annoy everyone around me. My friends tease me incessantly about who they imagine my soul mate will be. Tall, short, fat, dimples, nail biter, foot tapper.  

At one week, three days, and seven hours, the clock stops. 

Instead of a soul mate I get condolences, a therapist, and a broken clock.

he had always tried to cover up his clock, it made him feel uneasy and he preferred not to know. He want the moment to be right because it feel right, not because the numbers on his wrist (however accurate they might be) said so. 

Even so, He knew it is soon,  the exact time slipped his mind but he knew that there were only hours left when he showered that morning. He had casually wondered what happens to the clock when it reaches zero…

And so, on this day, the most important day of his life, Sean made no unusual effort, the red scarf around his wrist stopped the nerves. And the board under his feet distracted his mind. Where was he going? Sean wasn’t sure. Fate knew.

Grinding to a stop at a busy road, his eyes were drawn to a boy in a bright blue sweatshirt, carefully unwrapping a bright red scarf from his right wrist. He had his eyes closed, and appeared to be holding his breath.

Suddenly he opened his eyes, but before he looked at his wrist he glance upwards. Sean felt the thump of his heart stopping as their eyes met. 

The boy in blue began to run to Sean, his face full of happiness and uncertainty, forgetting to watch traffic. Sean was too late. All he could do was shout.

Blue was becoming stained with red as Sean ran to the fallen boy, He lifted his right wrist to find the clock stopped at 0d 0h 0m 1s and with a haunting feeling he began to unwrap his own wrist, he didn’t know what to hope for.

Sean’s clock had stopped at 0d 0h 0m 1s.

Oh, God, what happened last night? was the first thought that crossed my mind when I woke up. I knew that going to the bar wasn’t going to end well, and the hangover didn’t help. After a couple minutes of sitting, I decided just to deal with it and get ready for the day.

Today felt like it was gunna be a bad day. I knew that this hangover would make me a complete mess for the day. But, there’s nothing I can do about it. I was stupid last night, so I’ll just pay the consequences.

I got into the bathroom, and I smelled the horrifying scent of puke on myself. I immediately got into the shower and got this wretched smell off. While showering, I began to wonder what happened last night, considering the whole night was blacked out.

I started thinking about everything that could have happened, then finally, I thought about my clock. I had known the time was close, but I never bothered to check the date. Oh, don’t be worried, I thought. There’s no way it could have happened then. I went on with my shower, but the thought was still in my head.

Finally, I gave in, and looked down. When I did, I almost had a heart attack. No… no! It can’t be! I started panicking. No, no. No! I ran to my room to lay down in my bed to try and get this thought away, but it couldn’t leave my brain, those wretched numbers.

0d 0h 0m 0s

(Source: illness-and-instruments, via allonsyforever)

Notes
976695
Posted
5 months ago

shananasplit:

This might literally be the most adorable (not to mention photogenic, geez) cat alive.

Via: Imgur

(via thecutestofthecute)

Notes
519835
Posted
5 months ago

Disney Princesses + happy cousins in braids

(via arendorks)

Notes
26389
Posted
5 months ago
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