heads are

if you ever ask a woman who’s clearly in a bad mood “are you ok” and she says “i’m fine!”, she’s not trying to like, wrap you into her unwinnable haunted carnival game of emotional manipulation. she probably immediately began to second guess every contributing factor to her bad mood when you pointed it out

you could have literally slapped a strangers ass and then called her dog a slut and in the .5 seconds she takes to collect her thoughts before the “i’m fine!!!” she thinks well maybe there was a bee on that butt and i mean coco is kind of promiscuous for a schnauzer yeah i’m fine i’m fine (she’s not)

whenever kids from classes 1a and 1b are arguing over which class is best they keep comparing their classmates and stuff, but like, not too seriously

until one time someone from 1b said ‘well, we don’t have a mineta’ and class 1a just didn’t speak to them for a week

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because of the recent lance hogwarts house hubbub i made these edits. feel free to use them however you please (ps they’re transparent)

· like/reblog/credit if you use or save · 

Guilt


Reference used for this artwork is credited to the lovely @solas-an <3 thank you again for the screenshots! :D

[Want to purchase this work? Head over to my Redbubble!]

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#ThankYouBones week: Day 12 - 1 Bones Cast. Final thank you

I don’t even know where to begin with this day. If I let myself think about it I won’t be able to stop myself from crying. I’m going to miss this cast so much. I am so proud of them, this show has made their careers, not only the cast but also the crew. We shouldn’t just thank the cast but most importantly the crew. If it wasn’t for them the show wouldn’t be on air. This wonderful cast has changed my life in so many ways. My journey started by watching David Boreanaz on my TV screen when I was 7 years old. I’ve followed him since childhood and continued to follow him to this show, if it wasn’t for David I wouldn’t have found this wonderful show. I wouldn’t have fallen in love with all these wonderful, well-written, complex and thoroughly developed characters. These actors are vastly underrated and literally deserve the world. If it wasn’t for the show I wouldn’t have made some amazing friends through this fandom - on Tumblr and over Twitter. I wish the cast and crew all the best for the future in their future roles and they finally get the recognition they deserve. I will continue to follow them in their projects and will always remember them as the cast that I fell in love with when I was 13 years old. 

Confessing to Baze, his friend of so many years, the one from whom he had become inseparable from even in childhood, was a daunting task. But he did it – because love, too, cannot be stopped, can’t be torn away from him, nor would he ever lie to the other. He considered a range of possibilities from the negative (awkwardness, the erosion of their friendship, the unlikely but still frightful disgust) to the positive (acceptance, happiness, maybe even reciprocation). But Chirrut never expected this. Baze doesn’t just reciprocate his feelings; he treasures them, gives them back tenfold, years of pent-up affection spilling out at the first opportunity this poor neglected boy has ever had. Every moment alone, there are Baze’s hands at his shoulder, his waist, his cheek, not quite possessive but appreciative in a way that makes Chirrut’s face go red. It almost hurts, sometimes, to think how completely Baze has been without love his whole life to make him so thankful just to be cared for. Despite the pain that lurks between hugs and kisses taken with shy eyes and hesitant smiles at every single chance, Chirrut catches his tears only once. Baze sleeps with his head on Chirrut’s chest, his body curled close, needy, though innocently – they haven’t even broached the topic of sex yet, both still content with exploring one new feeling at a time. Chirrut has barely drifted off when he feels Baze shudder (doesn’t hear him, there’s nothing to hear) and a moment later senses the dampness on his shirt where Baze hides his eyes.

“Baze…?”

“Don’t go,” He whispers hoarsely, whether it’s brought on by the remnant of a nightmare or a memory or just one of those worries that seems to plague him constantly. “Please don’t go.”

All the ingredients of a lovely Daily Mail pointless letter: not much happening, rambling storytelling, a bit of Margaret Thatcher and a dash of pidgin English when them foreigns are talking. Classic.