my suitemate came out and asked everyone to be quiet because she had to get up early and she was very drunk and loud and kept me awake late every night this week so…
oh god an e/r au where grantaire is an author and the forewords and afterwords of all his books are love letters to a beautiful blonde boy his readers would kill to know the name of
THE WORST PART OF HAVING CURLY HAIR IS WHEN PEOPLE ASK IF YOU HAVE BRUSHED YOUR HAIR LIKE NO I FUCKING HAVEN’T BECAUSE IF I DO THAT I WILL POOF UP AND LOOK LIKE A FUCKING CLOUD SO WOULD YOU RATHER WALK AROUND WITH A FUCKING CLOUD HEAD OR WITH PRETTY CURLS SHUT THE FUCK UP AND EAT YOUR STRAW HAIR
mr. sulu, plot a course for ‘as far away from my responsibilities as possible’ yes warp 10 would be great thank
No but Percy Jackson literally did interrupt his own funeral
so today it snowed for the first time this year and ive naturally been online all day and didnt know so i went to take out the garbage in bare feet and stepped in an inch snow and i just yelled "what the fUCK" and i just heard my neighbour in his backyard go “oh my god she’s outside”
99% of being a musical theatre fan is singing duets by yourself
You’re not a REAL Gatsby fan unless you’ve read the book. Unless you’ve read every Fitzgerald book. Unless you’ve read their early drafts, mailed to you by Fitzgerald himself. Unless you first read Gatsby when Scott handed it to you in a Parisian bar in 1925, apologising for the cover when he saw you disapproved. Unless you embarked on an intense friendship with him that culminated in rumours that you two were having a clandestine homosexual affair. Unless you once took him to the Louvre so you could prove to him that his penis wasn’t any smaller than those on the statues there. Unless Scott turned up, drunk and uninvited, at your house so many times that you had to move more than once. Unless you continued to exchange increasingly infrequent and terse letters with him for the rest of his life, then missed his funeral because you were in Cuba. Unless you called his literary talent “as natural as the pattern that was made by the dust on a butterfly’s wings” and won a Nobel prize and wrote For Whom The Bell Tolls. That’s right, you poser, if you’re not Ernest Hemingway you can fuck straight off right now. We’re on to you.
this is the single greatest thing i will ever reblog during my stay here on tumblr.
so tonight my philosophy professor had these nasty bruises all over her arms and she stopped mid-lecture to say “sorry you guys have to look at my bruised-up body, my friend brought a stripper pole over for thanksgiving and that shit is not easy. tip your strippers. tip your strippers well” and then immediately kept talking about philosophy
Welcome to Texas where the forecasts are made up and the seasons don’t matter.
date idea: participate in the overthrow of the state