FantasyWriter

juggling-geese:

 #how authoritative of you captain tightpants

This is what working with children is like.

hylianhero7:

chervenkotka:

for you and me who experience artblock..
keep on drawing!

this is beautiful and I won’t deny that, but I laughed way too hard at the end because I thought it said “And that’s all a mattress”

evelyne-r-etrange:

constantcalibrations:

chuck-the-funk:

thcbodycleanse:

this is like when you’re sitting with someone that you really like then you like touch knees or something and all of a sudden you feel all this energy going through both of you through this one point of contact
this gif is kinda like that

This will forever be my favorite gif

oh god i can’t handle the colors chosen for this

But can we talk about that description? Because that is the most beautiful and accurate thing I’ve read today.

evelyne-r-etrange:

constantcalibrations:

chuck-the-funk:

thcbodycleanse:

this is like when you’re sitting with someone that you really like then you like touch knees or something and all of a sudden you feel all this energy going through both of you through this one point of contact

this gif is kinda like that

This will forever be my favorite gif

oh god i can’t handle the colors chosen for this

But can we talk about that description? Because that is the most beautiful and accurate thing I’ve read today.

The story of a motherfucker who tries to take break a couple up over a joke status. It pains me that so many people see themselves as a “good guy” doing this. I used to think I was a good person, but now I try to disassociate myself from being “good” because that now translates into “insensitive and insecure whackjob praying on vulnerable women to get laid”

The story of a motherfucker who tries to take break a couple up over a joke status. It pains me that so many people see themselves as a “good guy” doing this. 

I used to think I was a good person, but now I try to disassociate myself from being “good” because that now translates into “insensitive and insecure whackjob praying on vulnerable women to get laid”

owlturdcomix:

We go forward.

inceptingdestiel:

Fangirl Challenge: [9/10] TV Shows → Firefly  
"No power in the ‘verse can stop me.
Castle

So I just started watching Castle season 5 and the show is still the best thing on the TV. Honestly, I love Nathan Fillion so much. If I could be half the man that he is, I would die extremely happy.

This so really does connect to me on a personal level. I am an aspiring writer and my dad was never really in the picture either (and he is now dead, so I have a million questions that will never be answered) and I’ve always feared that I would be an awful father because mines was awful. Even though this is fiction, knowing that Castle is such a good father to an incredible daughter gives me such hope that I will make my children proud someday. He is a great character, and Nathan is an equally great man.

Holding people away from you, and denying yourself love, that doesn’t make you strong. if anything, it makes you weaker. Because you’re doing it out of fear.
Sarah Dessen, This Lullaby (via ohteenscanrelate)

aheroandasavior:

Why I love Tumblr + Smooth

The Vineyard

I spend my time drowning in the tears beneath the surface, begging them to flow, to break the seal and drain the well dry. To have the despair trickle away down the hill. There are moments when the tears reach my eyes, but they retreat before they can fall upon my cheeks. I am denied the sweet release. A lifetime of repressed emotions. The dam it has created as far too strong to be broken. Is there a way to open the floodgates? Many years of my life I have searched for the answer.

Throughout my life I have been told that repressing emotions is unhealthy, but I receive no negative feedback from people when I do poor my feelings into a bottle and seal the cork. However, upon spilling those emotions out I receive a backlash from all around me. Friends and family don’t understand, strangers turn away and my enemies use it against me.

A wine cellar full of bottles I now possess. The labels on most have faded with time, and I do not know how I acquired them. And yet, I cannot rid myself of them. Nostalgia has me holding on to these bottles of disappointment and loss. I ran out of bottles long ago, and now the emotions have seeped into every crack and crevice of my being. They have slowly eroded all decoration. Everything that once made me who I am has now been washed away and destroyed. The pleasure I used to feel is now beyond reach; sunken in the wine cellar.

People used to come visit the cellar and see how remarkable it was. How I had managed to trap so much, cramming every last drop into the bottles. They were impressed with how I had managed to run such a successful vineyard. Alas, once the droplets started landing on the floor instead of the bottles, people became less and less interested in visiting the wine cellar. A few kind souls tried to help me repair the damage these droplets were doing, but I quickly threw them out. As much as I wanted and needed their help, I could not risk their own vineyards coming into disrepair while they helped me mend mine. And so they left. And I wanted to weep. But I could not.