blue ink pearls


Lena. 18. Reader, writer, artist. Sleep-deprived college student and chocolate lover. This blog is mostly fandom posts, but it also has lots of pretty pictures, and things that make me laugh. Fandoms include (but are not limited to): NCIS, Supernatural, Harry Potter, Game of Thrones, Orphan Black, The Borgias, and Downton Abbey.

karasratworld:

Cat feet are the cutest things in the world

karasratworld:

Cat feet are the cutest things in the world


This year July has 5 Fridays, 5 Saturdays and 5 Sundays. This happens once every 823 years. This is called money bags. So copy this and money will arrive within 4 days. Based on Chinese Feng Shui, the one who does not copy, will be without money. Figured I’d pass this on!

darklight1824:

doingthemost510:

purelyawkward:

MONEY.

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Only reblogging because I’m a greedy bitch who wants money.

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Hey doesn’t hurt to reblog ya knoww and if money is involved….

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My mom’s paycheck arrives in 4d days, THIS SHIT WORKKSS

chinese feng shui knows about tumblr ? image

brunetteinferno:

OMG I didnt notice until today.I reblogged this and got 10 dollars :D

got to pay for stuff somehow so why not. 

forever reblog

haha I got money today!!! 

Show me the moneyyyy!

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MONEY MONEY MONEYYYYYY!


growlithes:

Squidward kept this shit real


soundsofsunset:

madelinelime:

When I was a kid I thought your 20s were supposed to be fun, not filled with perpetual anxiety about financial stability and constantly feeling like an unaccomplished piece of shit. 

That’s because it was fun for baby boomers and they basically gave us this impression it would always be like that, but then they ruined the economy.

but everything changed when the baby boomers attacked


  • me: this fic fucked me up so bad and i cried for hours
  • me: here read it

ohawkguy:

the notebook problem: you see a notebook. you want to buy the notebook. but you know you have like TEN OTHER NOTEBOOKS. most which are STILL EMPTY. you don’t need to notebook. you’re probably not gonna use the notebook anyway. what’s the point? DONT BUY THE NOTEBOOK. you buy the notebook.


"I guess"
— I disagree with you but ill let you have this one because I don’t feel like debating anymore with your simple ass (via monitormylife)

simplypotterheads:

But okay listen: 7 years ago today, MILLIONS. LITERALLY MILLIONS. of Potterheads from all over the world were sitting with their brand-new copies of the Deathly Hallows and taking their final journey with Harry. It’s amazing when you think of the sheer scope of it-that many people in a sense united by this one book, riding the same emotional roller coaster simultaneously. 

Wow.


to believe in a universe as young as six or seven thousand years old is to extinguish the light from most of the galaxy, not to mention from all the hundred billion other galaxies in the observable universe


sniffing:

distressed—teens:

ddaughter:

i think its dumb if drug dealers get sentenced to longer in prison that rapists?? like people ask for drugs but no one asks for rape???

Finally someone said it.


weshouldreallytalkaboutanime:

the-impala-in-the-tardis-at-221b:

mishathekitten:

trust-me-im-the-editor:

deadpai:

fellowship-of-the-superwholock:

peaceismyname:

didntyouhaveaflamingsword:

biffan:

supernatural subtitles

YOU’RE MISSING MY FAVORITE ONE:

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these are tears streaking down my face people

WHAT ABOUT THE HISSES AT LUCIFER ONE

YOU ARE MISSING THE BEST ONE

what about 

and 

I’ve never watched supernatural with subtitles on. Are these actually there?

Yes, yes they are. I don’t have a pic, but one is demonic whooshing


Losing her is like watching the leaves fall from his branches in autumn, staring helplessly as the wind carries them away, trying to grab them despite the roots that keep him anchored to the ground.
Missing her is like facing the winter completely bare, allowing the snow to rest on his branches and lie heavy on him, feeling the lymph freeze inside his trunk.
Finding her is like rejoicing as buds sprout in the warm light of spring, sensing  the lymph run lively at his core, feeling his bark thicken while a fresh breeze blows around him.
Having her is like getting wet together during summer storms, drying off in the sun as the days slowly shorten, soaking up the nourishment from the ground on which they both find peace.
Loving her is constantly fearing of losing her, but always hoping – or knowing – that she will return in the end, just like the leaves always come back to make their tree green.