“Somewhere between wanting to keep the tears of you running through my veins, and wanting the silence only you can speak to me out of my head.”
thugsindara3as (via wordsnquotes)
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year

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he wasn't even looking at me and he found me

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@stargazingalice
“Somewhere between wanting to keep the tears of you running through my veins, and wanting the silence only you can speak to me out of my head.”
thugsindara3as (via wordsnquotes)
He’s a great man.“ "Yea… He’s also a good one.
Greg Lestrade, Sherlock. (via arielgryffinpuff)
Imagine dragons sleeping the same way giraffes do
Yessss! I wanna draw sleeping dragons tooo
Maybe they sleep like camels…
or cats…
or…. uh… snakes?
Yeeeeaaaaah
Or maybe they sleep on trees
maybe they sleep like bats
@elektronx
This is not what I thought they meant when they named a band Imagine Dragons, but I’m all for it.
The sign of intelligence is that you are constantly wondering. Idiots are always dead sure about every damn thing they are doing in their life.
Sadhguru Jaggi Vasudev (via thequotejournals)
“ It’s armor. On a woman. It doesn’t have to look feminine.”
If I ever don’t reblog this, it’s because I’m dead.
game devs take note
What a weird impulse. Why would you need it to look feminine? Or masculine? It’s armor to protect your body from death. Not dying should be gender neutral.
Have you ever wondered where books come from?
Well then, let me show you, because that’s what I do for a living.
Right now, it’s this time of the year, and the little ones have just freshly hatched:
You’ll notice they’re still blind and naked when they hatch. So I make them little coats to keep them warm during their first winter:
See how they happily line up to put them on:
See? Better. Now they’re ready to go and explore the world.
And if they make it through the winter and we take good care of them, they will grow up to be strong and wise like their older fellows:
So, in case you were ever wondering, now you know.
As a Publishing Professional I can say that this is 10000% accurate, and I am a little concerned you’re just giving away all of our industry secrets on Tumblr.
I am a famousy awards-winning author of BOOKS and I endorse this post.
pass it on.
I’m so mad because this worked
help me roger
Reblogging myself because
Originally posted by gifs-for-the-masses
Reblogging myself because… what was that? Five minutes?
O_O
………my friend has made me curious
Insomniacs know better than anyone how it would be to haunt a house.
Michael Cunningham, By Nightfall (via wordsnquotes)
here for mentally ill people who don’t want to go to college
here for mentally ill people who drop out of school
here for mentally ill people who are still living with parents in their twenties
here for mentally ill people who can’t have a job
here for mentally ill people with no or low ambitions
here for mentally ill people who aren’t high functioning and are seen as “lazy” in the neurotypical world and have even been stigmatized in the mentally ill community. you are all important and valid. i’m proud of you.
Cinder by myques
Sarcastic people tend to be marshmallows underneath the armor.
Stephen King, 11/22/63 (via wordsnquotes)
I’m such a “Look at the moon!” person.
All den Frust, all die Hektik vergisst man wenn sich unsere Lippen berühren.
Enno Bunger (via broken-hearts-and-high-hopes)
the next time we love, we will do it properly, fully. not as wolves or shadows or beating hearts. as humanly as we know how. all fingers and tongues and questioning eyes and how limbs are just limbs until you touch them and then they’re alive, they’re alight, they’re swelling into something more than you thought ever could be. so we press our fingers into our fingers and marvel that our palms can do this. that you can touch me and my belly is full of electricity. that i can touch you and suddenly you are glowing and growing and brilliant.
But laugh?“ He pressed the flat of his hand against my stomach. “Here lives laugh.” He ran his finger straight up to my mouth and spread his fingers. “Push back laugh is not good. Not healthy.” “Also cry?” I asked. I traced an imaginary tear down my cheek with one finger. “Also cry.” He put his hand on his own belly. “Ha ha ha,” he said, pressing his hand to show me the motion of his stomach. Then his expression changed to sad. “Huh huh huh,” he heaved with exaggerated sobs, pressing his stomach again. “Same place. Not healthy to push down.
The Wise Man’s Fear, by Patrick Rothfuss (via kingkillerarchives)