Give away because I can.
- A galaxy t-shirt must tell me your size (sorry I spelled that wrong up there)
- A wreath headband of flowers
- a bow tie of your choice in color. If you want a pattern i’ll do my best.
- A mystery box of things. OOooooo suprises!
- A mix CD. ooooo more suprises!
WHAT YOU NEED TO DO;
Write me a smutty fanfic of your favorite OTP. I like it short and sweet, so I’d say aim for 1000 words or less. I’ll be lenient if you make it extra juicy. Reblogs, likes, all those things help you out. You don’t HAVE to follow me and I’ll be disappointed if I only get one or two stories to choose from so get it out there.
If you don’t want one of the items I am making please tell me. Like maybe you don’t like flowers but you like the stars and t-shirts. I won’t judge. Through in a gender so I can accommodate with your mystery box.
I’ll send the whole package through the mail so when I declare a winner I will need your home address or an address you are comfortable with me sending your goods to.
THIS NEEDS TO HAVE ITS OWN BILLBOARD
my type of public transportation
“Why were you late in today?”
“Oh, I got tied up on the subway…”
“well that’s not going to get me many notes!”
“I don’t care.”
This is the best one yetActually, yes.
Dear god there are people who actually think that ”I’m fighting sexist and body-shaming oppression by telling women that they have to reach a certain level of oppression in order to be considered ~real women~, because otherwise they’re just a bunch of spoiled cupcake princesses” is radical sexism-fighting social justice
there is not enough alcohol in the world to help me deal with this fucking site sometimes
One of you made Kim Kardashian cry
“we’ve done our job” - Tumblr Community
the interwebs won!!!!
Shut up I wasn’t posting this to be funny. We didn’t win anything. You bullied someone. She might be famous but she still has feelings and your blind rudeness has obviously really hurt her. How can tumblr claim to be so against bullying and for positive body image when we still pull this shit. The things you say online have real life consequences, don’t assume that just because someone’s famous they won’t see your nasty jokes.
this show i swear to god
ok kids. im leaving you an essay. twenty pages. single spaced. 12 point times new roman font. one question: “where did you come from, where did you go, where did you come from cotton eyed joe” good luck this is due tomorrow
About three things I was absolutely positive. First, I had a pokemon. Second, there was a part of me - and I didn’t know how dominant that part might be - that wanted to be the very best, like no one ever was. Third, Gary Oak was unconditionally and irrevocably a douchenozzle.
Reblogging for the comment
How old are you?
How long have you been ten?
HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN TEN
Misty looked at Ash, his breathing still heavy from carrying her on his bike as fast as he could through the long grass outside of Pallet Town.
“You’re eyes are impossibly huge and black,” Misty said. “Your hair is… incredibly pointy, and doesn’t need product. Your face changes size and shape based on your feelings… and sometimes you speak like - like you’re from the 90’s. You never spend money on anything; you don’t go to the bathroom.”
The silence hung there, thick and heavy like a Snorlax blocking the bike path.
“How old are you?” Misty asked, not sure if she wanted to know.
“Ten,” Ash replied, with a slight smirk and an almost amused tone.
Misty knew that wasn’t true. Ash wasn’t like the other boys her age. He wasn’t even like her older sisters who ran the gym in Cerulean City. He was wiser and his passion was genuine.
Ash didn’t just want to catch them all, he needed to. He was going to be the best there ever was no matter how long it took, which gave Misty this nagging in the back of her mind. She had to know for sure.
“How long have you been ten?” she asked. Her voice weak, knowing full well the answer could change everything she thought she knew.
“A while…” Ash said. His voice trailing off, as if he were losing himself in a flood of memories.
Misty let out a faint gasp. She knew now. She was certain.
“I know what you are,” she declared, as if whatever had been holding her back from accepting the truth, finally let go of her hand and let her fall right down the Diglett hole.
Ash eyes were alive now, flickering like the flame on a Charmander’s tail.
He stared right into her and said, ”Say it… out loud. Say it.”
Misty’s heart was pounding louder than the thud of a Marowak’s bone club attack.
Despite the now eerily silent meadow, she could barely be heard as she whispered, “Pokemon Trainer.”
OH MY LORD HELP
HON HON HON I AM COMING TO FIND YOU, YOU STINKY FACED BROTHER OF MINE
HON HON BARK BARK EIFFEL TOWER CHIEN
Macabre Makeup by Miss Lakune
They say beauty is in the eye of the beholder, though sometimes it’s just an empty socket. Lakune’s elaborate makeup designs must surely resemble the kind of looks tormented souls ask for in the salon at the end of Hell, where looking fabulous goes hand in twisted, gnarled hand with the tortured demons locked inside, desperately clawing to get out.