Loose Lips Sink SHips

all-right-blondie:

That time when Raven actually said what most of us want to say to a teacher who picks you for the answer when you clearly don’t know it, for usually no other reason than to embarrass you and make you look stupid. One of the main things I hate and always will hate about school. 

anunexpectedhotdwarf:

Supernatural and Doctor Who parallels

Part 1

yohena:

mr-storm:

the-soberstoner:

Dope ass sleeve

The fact people are still reblogging this is kind of cool!  If it ever reaches 50k notes I’ll need to do something cool to commemorate it c:


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yohena:

mr-storm:

the-soberstoner:

Dope ass sleeve

The fact people are still reblogging this is kind of cool!  If it ever reaches 50k notes I’ll need to do something cool to commemorate it c:

-

(Source: modifiedalchemist)

quazza:

rnoth:

OH MY GOD IM WATCHING SEASON 4 OF HELLS KITCHEN AND GORDON RAMSAY DISGUISES HIMSELF AS ONE OF THE CONTESTANTS I DONT THINK IVE R EVER LAUGHED THIS HARD IN MY LIFE HE E LP 

whAAAAT

(Source: naya-darren)

There’s nothing hidden in your head

The Sorting Hat can’t see,

So try me on and i will tell you

Where you ought to be.

(Source: hearthorne)

(Source: reckless-discretion)

slenclerman:

slenclerman:

slenclerman:

slenclerman:

what do you call a mouse wearing a purple hat

image

fine fuck you guys yall re missing out on some quality humour

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if this hits 1,000 notes ill say the answer

image

(Source: clannyphantom)

adiunge:

sycamoreleaf:

exteritio:

ignesco:

Do you understand now?

Anna is literally the best fucking writer though

Once upon a time, there was a water glass. Nothing much happened in its life. Water was pured, flowers were held and cleaning was done. One way or another, the water glass was doing just as it was intended of it. Everything was perfect.
Untill the day the Boy picked it up.
If asked, nobody would know how it happened. “The Boy was clumbsy” some dishes would whisper. “She was too close to the edge”, others would add. But it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter who did it, or why. The glass didn’t care if it was an accident or not. It was ruined - never to hold another flower, never to hold pure sparkling water…
They tried to patch her up, tried so hard. Glue was sticking out here and there, and other gasps could not be trully filled. It could bot hold water… It was hideos… 
“Father will be sending it to the garbage can, as everything else that is broken” a plate whispered, but the glass couldn’t care. Nobody had any need for a broken glass anyway. Hide her away untill the very End.
But then Mother came home and she took it aside. She gently took it apart and made it pretty with shreads of gold. The Boy had come to look in wonder, but dared not touch the glass and for that the glass was thankful. The fear will never escape it, that the glass knew. Even when Mother placed it on the top shelf, to be admired by all, the glass still shot the Boy suspecting looks. 
But time did pass and it held water and flowers again, but it still felt broken. It wanted to go back to being a water glass, but try as it might, the cracks would not go away. Guests would what a shame it was that it broke, but always with a “look how beautiful it is now - trully one of a kind”. The Boy would beam at those words at times, and almost attemt to speak. But the look Mother would give him would silence him just as quickly. 
It occured to the glass at that moment that it was not just a water glass anymore. No matter how well the cracks were fixed, it couldn’t. But they haven’t sent it to the bin… so maybe… it could still be useful in some way.
Mother still decorated it with flowers and Father still admired it as it sat on the top shelf. Maybe, being broken, does not mean its the end…
Time passed even more and the Boy became Father - a wise and kind Father as the water glass has ever seen. One day, he had his Boy break a glass - much like he had broken it once upon a time. 
“Can you make it the way it was bofore?” 
No, the old and broken water glass wanted to say. No it can not. Nothing can make it as it was. You can try and fix it, but it will always be broken. But that doesn’t mean it cannot still do other glorious things! 
The glass sat there, on the top shelf, watching a lesson worth its gold. It remembered the day its Boy broke it and how close it came to the trash bin. But it remembered how Mother patched it up as best as it could. It remembered how it tried to be a waterglass again, but could not. It remembered giving up, but it also remembered getting back up and shining brighter.
Broken glasses will always be. Accidents will always happen. Cruel Boys will always be. Some water glasses cannot be saved, while others can be anything. The difference between the trash bin and the top shelf lies in but the right push to be better than before.
“Do you understand now?”
It was broken and hardly perfect anymore, never to be as it was before… but now it wore it scars proudly, for it was more than just another water glass. 
Because it knew being broken doesn’t make it the end.

Okay so I’ve been thinking about my post and I can actually see how I’ve represented it in a way that could be taken differently to how I intended it, but this comment describes it perfectly. It seriously does. I love this comment, and I wish I’d written the text in the image in a different way, I really do. The comment before is perfect to me.

adiunge:

sycamoreleaf:

exteritio:

ignesco:

Do you understand now?

Anna is literally the best fucking writer though

Once upon a time, there was a water glass. Nothing much happened in its life. Water was pured, flowers were held and cleaning was done. One way or another, the water glass was doing just as it was intended of it. Everything was perfect.

Untill the day the Boy picked it up.

If asked, nobody would know how it happened. “The Boy was clumbsy” some dishes would whisper. “She was too close to the edge”, others would add. But it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter who did it, or why. The glass didn’t care if it was an accident or not. It was ruined - never to hold another flower, never to hold pure sparkling water…

They tried to patch her up, tried so hard. Glue was sticking out here and there, and other gasps could not be trully filled. It could bot hold water… It was hideos…

“Father will be sending it to the garbage can, as everything else that is broken” a plate whispered, but the glass couldn’t care. Nobody had any need for a broken glass anyway. Hide her away untill the very End.

But then Mother came home and she took it aside. She gently took it apart and made it pretty with shreads of gold. The Boy had come to look in wonder, but dared not touch the glass and for that the glass was thankful. The fear will never escape it, that the glass knew. Even when Mother placed it on the top shelf, to be admired by all, the glass still shot the Boy suspecting looks.

But time did pass and it held water and flowers again, but it still felt broken. It wanted to go back to being a water glass, but try as it might, the cracks would not go away. Guests would what a shame it was that it broke, but always with a “look how beautiful it is now - trully one of a kind”. The Boy would beam at those words at times, and almost attemt to speak. But the look Mother would give him would silence him just as quickly.

It occured to the glass at that moment that it was not just a water glass anymore. No matter how well the cracks were fixed, it couldn’t. But they haven’t sent it to the bin… so maybe… it could still be useful in some way.

Mother still decorated it with flowers and Father still admired it as it sat on the top shelf. Maybe, being broken, does not mean its the end…

Time passed even more and the Boy became Father - a wise and kind Father as the water glass has ever seen. One day, he had his Boy break a glass - much like he had broken it once upon a time.

“Can you make it the way it was bofore?”

No, the old and broken water glass wanted to say. No it can not. Nothing can make it as it was. You can try and fix it, but it will always be broken. But that doesn’t mean it cannot still do other glorious things!

The glass sat there, on the top shelf, watching a lesson worth its gold. It remembered the day its Boy broke it and how close it came to the trash bin. But it remembered how Mother patched it up as best as it could. It remembered how it tried to be a waterglass again, but could not. It remembered giving up, but it also remembered getting back up and shining brighter.

Broken glasses will always be. Accidents will always happen. Cruel Boys will always be. Some water glasses cannot be saved, while others can be anything. The difference between the trash bin and the top shelf lies in but the right push to be better than before.

“Do you understand now?”

It was broken and hardly perfect anymore, never to be as it was before… but now it wore it scars proudly, for it was more than just another water glass.

Because it knew being broken doesn’t make it the end.

Okay so I’ve been thinking about my post and I can actually see how I’ve represented it in a way that could be taken differently to how I intended it, but this comment describes it perfectly. It seriously does. I love this comment, and I wish I’d written the text in the image in a different way, I really do. The comment before is perfect to me.

(Source: agitabatur)


“This is the first time a real intruder has appeared”

“This is the first time a real intruder has appeared”

naradluffy:

naradluffy:

spn-dw-sh:

watchtheskytonight:

runaeveena:

is he from star wars?

eVERYBODY IS BASICALLY CAPTAIN AMERICA EXCEPT FOR CAPTAIN AMERICA

I’m sorry but are we not going to point out that a 6 year old knows Hannibal…

(Source: rhymewithrachel)

rawrism:

i do

rawrism:

i do

(Source: i-mpressed)

niknak79:

Secret hidey-holes in the wall are the coolest.

niknak79:

Secret hidey-holes in the wall are the coolest.