Goncharov? You Mean Blorbo From My Shoes?

reblog to enlist your mutuals in building the House :)

‘Stranger Things’ Cast Vows To ‘Hunt’ Real ‘Monsters’ Of Injustice With SAG Win [x]

someone in my target language: hi :)! how are you?

me and Duolingo in haunting unison: the boys have the pears

when you forget to read the tags on a fic

if i was a vampire i would be so scared to shapeshift into a swarm of bats because what if i get stuck like that

All things that have form eventually decay

reblog if you've officially outlived the queen of england

I KNOW HOW MY FILTHY MUTANT ABILITIES UPSET YOU, SCHMIDT. DON’T WORRY–

–YOU WILL DIE PURE. NO MAGNETISM 

JUST FISTS.

Sometimes writing is like having an enormous lake in your head, and you want to get it out of your head and into a proper place for a lake so other people can come and go swimming and ride jet skis and stuff, except all you have to move the lake is a teaspoon. So you’re just sitting there frantically flinging water out of the lake with your teaspoon and telling people, “Guys, this lake is going to be so cool when it’s done,” but it will never be done. There is so much lake.