Stacie. 21. Open. noLA. Poodles. Pretty things. Music. Movies. Friends. The TV Show, I don't have actual friends. Making things. Kickin' it.

 

scurrilizzie:

adraughtofamortentia:

supermoclel:

are you ever in the middle of saying something or showing someone something and you realize that literally no one cares 

I’ve literally stopped talking mid-word in a story and no one has noticed.

like on the daily

famekiller:

lilyliqueur:

beyond—the—sea:

queue-t-pi:

When I saw this I’m pretty sure my gasp could be heard across the world. That’s why he doesn’t have Lily’s eyes. It makes so much sense!

*cries*

DON’T FUCKIKNG touch me

BACK AWAY FROM MMMMEEEEEEEEE… *cries ugly massive tears*

famekiller:

lilyliqueur:

beyond—the—sea:

queue-t-pi:

When I saw this I’m pretty sure my gasp could be heard across the world. That’s why he doesn’t have Lily’s eyes. It makes so much sense!

*cries*

DON’T FUCKIKNG touch me

BACK AWAY FROM MMMMEEEEEEEEE… *cries ugly massive tears*

monorailsandmagic:

disneycamera:

as-seen-on-disney:

just-another-disney-dreamer:


For your safety, remain seated with yer hands, arms, feet, and legs inside the boat.
Para su seguridad, permanezca sentado con las manos, brazos, pies, y piernas dentro el barco.

What a time to be alive.

That comment made me spit my tea everywhere

ITS PIRATES OF THE FRICKIN CARIBBEAN HOW DOES THAT EVEN HAPPEN DID HE GET HIT WITH THE CANNONBALL???

"Ugh this boat is so slow. What kind of ride is this?! Lemme try to make it go faster… I’ll use my hand as an oar…. Oh shit."

monorailsandmagic:

disneycamera:

as-seen-on-disney:

just-another-disney-dreamer:

For your safety, remain seated with yer hands, arms, feet, and legs inside the boat.

Para su seguridad, permanezca sentado con las manos, brazos, pies, y piernas dentro el barco.

What a time to be alive.

That comment made me spit my tea everywhere

ITS PIRATES OF THE FRICKIN CARIBBEAN HOW DOES THAT EVEN HAPPEN DID HE GET HIT WITH THE CANNONBALL???

"Ugh this boat is so slow. What kind of ride is this?! Lemme try to make it go faster… I’ll use my hand as an oar…. Oh shit."

sasstiel-sassbutt:

arasellle:

justheroverthere:

I’m the person who knows their Hogwarts house but not their blood type

I know mine. it’s

image

pureblood

this post just got 209348451 times better okay

(Source: hufflepuffinthetardis)

cybersity:

i dont understand how people can just get tattoos without even giving it a second thought i cant even find the commitment to stick a sticker somewhere

Sometimes you’re 23 and standing in the kitchen of your house making breakfast and brewing coffee and listening to music that for some reason is really getting to your heart. You’re just standing there thinking about going to work and picking up your dry cleaning. And also more exciting things like books you’re reading and trips you plan on taking and relationships that are springing into existence. Or fading from your memory, which is far less exciting. And suddenly you just don’t feel at home in your skin or in your house and you just want home but “Mom’s” probably wouldn’t feel like home anymore either. There used to be the comfort of a number in your phone and ears that listened everyday and arms that were never for anyone else, but just to calm you down when you started feeling trapped in a five-minute period where nostalgia is too much and thoughts of this person you are feel foreign. When you realize that you’ll never be this young again but this is the first time you’ve ever been this old. When you can’t remember how you got from sixteen to here and all the same feel like sixteen is just as much of a stranger to you now. The song is over. The coffee’s done. You’re going to breathe in and out. You’re going to be fine in about five minutes.

The Winter of the Air  (via fuckinq)

(Source: kalynroseanne)