Things & Stuff

nowaki-star:

peanutbuttergamegrumps:

this fic is a work of art

I fucking love My Immortal.

The difference with a single player game is that in the same way you lose yourself in a good novel, you can lose yourself in a single player story. You see it in all these games, where you can fill your house with turnips or decorate your armor with a dragon skull. It lets you go inside for a little while and, well, not hermit up necessarily, but be in another place and time for a while. It is escapism and you can’t really have that when ‘BonerLord247’ goes running past you in the middle of a raid.

d-dracarys-s:

You freaking guys. I FINALLY own a piece of Angel Aura quartz, and it is even more beautiful in person than I ever could have imagined. Wow.

Gorillaz - Clint Eastwood
7,634 plays
cubchoo:

a shocking but not unwelcome twist

cubchoo:

a shocking but not unwelcome twist

siriuslymeg:

itscauseyoureafuckinelf:

likewolfandcat:

lemony-socks:

rabidchild:

ponywithafez:

This video is titled “SNAPE REALISES THE FUCKING CANDLES ARE FLOATING”

I cannot unsee this.

“SNAPE REALISES THE FUCKING CANDLES ARE FLOATING”

“SNAPE REALISES THE FUCKING CANDLES ARE FLOATING”

ohmygod

dangerscissor:

kippy413:

dangerscissor:

i appreciate how immersive the gameplay is in x/y

That crow is so cute

yes she is thank you

iambloodworth:

Poster proof came in. It’s a matte print. 
Special thanks to #s, ritualmist, and always-through for the designated corner-holders.

iambloodworth:

Poster proof came in. It’s a matte print. 

Special thanks to #s, ritualmist, and always-through for the designated corner-holders.

milesedgeworthz:

I didn’t know mia fey had a snapchat

milesedgeworthz:

I didn’t know mia fey had a snapchat

deebott:

queenofbeerss:

This dress makes me want to die


Fuck me alive

deebott:

queenofbeerss:

This dress makes me want to die

Fuck me alive

Patrick Stump Young Blood Chronicles

Until I started taking my antidepressants, though, I didn’t actually know that I was depressed. I thought the dark staticky corners were part of who I was. It was the same way I felt before I put on my first pair of glasses at age 14 and suddenly realized that trees weren’t green blobs but intricate filigrees of thousands of individual leaves; I hadn’t known, before, that I couldn’t see the leaves, because I didn’t realize that seeing leaves was a possibility at all. And it wasn’t until I started using tools to counterbalance my depression that I even realized there was depression there to need counterbalancing. I had no idea that not everyone felt the gravitational pull of nothingness, the ongoing, slow-as-molasses feeling of melting down into a lump of clay. I had no way of knowing that what I thought were just my ingrained bad habits — not being able to deposit checks on time, not replying to totally pleasant emails for long enough that friendships were ruined, having silent meltdowns over getting dressed in the morning, even not going to the bathroom despite really, really, really having to pee — weren’t actually my habits at all. They were the habits of depression, which whoa, holy shit, it turns out I had a raging case of.