:o

me when i FUCKING get you *image of two mourning doves cuddling*

"can i hit?" no. my parrying skills are unmatched

at the club no drinks.in.fully stone cold sober: what if thsre was a secret city

Face twists with bravery as a chill runs through the air We have to find it.

We have to find it

nice outfit LOSER. 1443 called but in a dialect of Early Modern English that hadn't experienced the Great Vowel Shift yet so i don't know what it said

You guys are always like "being crushed by 10,000 tons of rock probably feels good as hell" or "being torn to pieces by hunting dogs would low key fix me" and I feel like those things would actually be unpleasant.

How about "Drinking an ice cold strawberry milkshake probably feels good as hell". Do you guys like that one.

In my joyful dreams I never frown. Smilent Hill

youtuber: schools are failing to teach kids how to read me, so high that i cant read: am i the child left behind

i bring a sort of "there's a fatphobic terror at the centre of all eating disorders" vibe to the conversation that thin people don't like to hear

​still genuinely might be the best own ive ever seen in my fucking life

Remember when 10 year old girls used to wear happy bunny t shirts that just said shit like “I’m going to skin you alive”

well maybe you should blearily wake up at 5:08 in the pre-dawn light and find the sleeping soft tiny mammal body of your cat just inches from your head like a miracle too beautiful for speech, and you should rustle one hand out from your blankets to rub fingertip circles across the warm eggshell dome of her little velvet-wrapped skull and on the bristly patches just where the cups of her ears begin, and as she inclines her head into your fingers and purrs without ever opening her little eyes you should feel a love so tender that you understand how that love could have reached out from the fireside into the inky spangled nights long gone to reach her, and then you'll feel better

[Image ID: Tumblr tag from hotTubSharts reading: and then maybe she'll wake you again at 6 to the sound of her puking on the floor. maybe /End ID]

I was lying in the leaf litter today when some moss spoke to me. "Excuse me, do you know the species of this fallen log beneath me?" asked the moss. "Hmm. No. Sorry, I'm a little fuzzy on logs," I said. "What a coincidence," said the moss. "I'm a little fuzzy on logs too."