When you make an adult decision without calling your mother first.

ofgeography:

perfectxmystery:

image

when you realize your adult decision has unforeseen consequences:

image

(via molly-hayes-for-president)

smashlymyth:

I just really wanna be Katherine when I grow up

smashlymyth:

I just really wanna be Katherine when I grow up

(via effyeahnerdfighters)

lvysaur:

Isn’t it weird how glue doesn’t get stuck to the container it’s in

(via molly-hayes-for-president)

thegingerbatch:

please take a moment to appreciate how excited john looks that he’s about to kick the shit out of him

like hell yes i have been waiting two years to wrap my hands around your throat you miserable sack of shit i am so glad you’re alive cause i’m gonna murder you

(via molly-hayes-for-president)

my-patronus-is-obamas-face:

iluvatardis:

polyamorousmisanthrope:

valkyriestrikeofthelashatterdome:

gotterdammerungs:

                             (x)

And then in the future, everything changes. He’s been through it all, of course-watched humanity rediscover the heavens above them, watched them begin to wonder what’s out there. He cheered with the rest of the world when they landed on the moon, cheered as if he’d found Isla de la Muerta all over again, because there was something new. New treasure, a new horizon. But then they stop going, stop exploring, and he goes back to riding tankers across the rising seas. So he’s surprised when one day he wakes up from a night with his bottle of rum (his truest companion), and hears that there’s colonies on Mars now, and they need ships to supply them. He spends the next decade crafting new identities, learning all he can to qualify for the job, and after several tries (and even more faked deaths-this immortality thing isn’t all it’s cracked up to be in the age of the inerasable digital self) he gets it. The ships go nearly constantly now, the needs of the terraforming project creating an unbroken line of vessels from Mars to Earth and back again. “Show me that horizon,” he whispers to himself, his personal prayer of thanksgiving, each time they leave orbit, because the worlds, the stars are in motion and it’s never the same, with nearly three years for a round trip the ports are always different, even if they keep the old names. And finally one trip something goes wrong with the reactor, they’re too low on power and have to deploy the backups, and Jack (Lucky Jack, they call him, for he survives too many things he shouldn’t but science has yet to accept that maybe some things weren’t old wives’ tales after all) goes out for the spacewalk to bring up the solar panels. And as they rise, geometric patterns black against the sun’s glare, he’s struck by a powerful sense of déjà vu, because it’s all here-wind and sails, a ship beneath his feet and stars above his head, horizon in all directions. He wonders, for a moment, if the reason he’s still here is because the universe wanted a witness, to mourn the end of one age of exploration, and rejoice in the birth of the next.

Thank you for writing this. It made me cry, but oh I am so relieved to see the yearning for the stars.

That shouldn’t have given me as many feels as it did… 

'The world is still the same, just less in it'

(via misshudderz)

kingshezza:

sherlock’s smile when he sees redbeard in his mind palace is literally destroying me

image

i cant do this i can’t do it 

(via misshudderz)

creativereadingfanfiction:

Loki’s face when hearing Thor say this, right after he figured out he was Jotun.

(via misshudderz)

speedups:

when your favorite mutual unfollows you

image

(via misshudderz)