about

Natalie | 14

free spirit. winter's child
i write things and sometimes they're good, but mostly i just cry about movies.

important: dogs, cereal, sebastian stan, art, kickass ladies, the cosmos.



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currently

WATCHING

political animals
orange is the new black s1

READING

♤ paper towns
♤ lotsa stucky fic

WRITING

✎ sad attempts at poetry ✎ stucky fic (ever-so-slowly)

NETWORKS

ohdanners:

the area of exposed skin between a crop top and a pair of high waisted shorts is sacred and magical


Jul 289281via©

xekstrin:

I bet you think you’re really smart, huh? I bet you think you’re clever, punk! WELL GUESS WHAT! -strokes your face- you are

you are and I love you


Jul 2845241via©

wartortles:

*holding phone in hand* where the fuck is my phone


Jul 28313975via©

cinnahearts:

Blue Ombre Birthday Cake (by Lisa Lemony Kitchen)

Jul 2822871via©

agirlnamedagnes:

This is what my husband and I purchased at the grocery store the other day.

We don’t have kids.

We are adults. We pay bills.
And drink water from a whale.


Jul 2860663via©

teenscoolest:

losing everything but weight


Jul 28609897via©

mrskittyforman:

if you ever see me reblog something as a link please dont judge me im sorry im probably on mobile and didnt mean it


Jul 2844380via©
me: forgets i'm wearing eyeliner
me: rubs eyelid
me: who the hell is bucky

thenorsebros:

x

officialunitedstates:

all good breakfast food starts with b

  • bacon
  • bagel
  • bread
  • bran muffin
  • beggs
  • bsausage

dxiry:

autumn smells great because everything is dying

clintbarttons:

but when will chris evans grab my left boob…..

"Passengers. This is not a shoe. This is disorder. This is size ten chaos. This— see this? This is death. In this locomotive we call home there is one thing that’s between our warm hearts and the bitter cold. Clothing? Shields? No. Order. Order is the barrier that holds back the frozen death. We must all of us on this train of life remain in our allotted station. We must each of us occupy our particular, preordained position. Would you wear a shoe on your head? Of course you wouldn’t wear a shoe on your head. A shoe doesn’t belong on your head. A shoe belongs on your foot. A hat belongs on your head. I am a hat. You are a shoe. I belong on the head. You belong on the foot. Yes? So it is." - Snowpiercer (2013)