i’m going to make a blog called so-unrelatable and i’m just going to go through really obscure tags reblogging things like “does anyone else hate it when you’re going antiquing and you drop your vibrator into a priceless arabesque vase and the entire table starts bumpin and you just gotta be like Oh My God These Antiques Are Haunted”
when this blog exists let me know and i will reblog all the things forever
whenever i see these post-apocalyptic films set in the USA where everyone is pretty much just killing each other with no mention of other nations i always just assume that the rest of the world is fine and has learnt how to resume life as normal
*hears first notes to Sugar We’re Going Down*
*punches out of casket*
am i morE THAN YOU BARGAINED FOR YET
the worst thing you can say to someone is ‘you’re too sensitive’ because that’s basically saying ‘you feel things more deeply and fully than i do and this inconveniences me because now i have to be more mindful of my own actions’
you’re not too sensitive, the world is just callous and stubborn. sensitivity doesn’t make you weak and callousness doesn’t make you strong.
"Stiles, if you have it, we’ll do something. I’ll do something.""Scott, just listen to me, okay? You’re not no one. You’re someone, you’re… Scott, you’re my best friend. And I need you. Scott, you’re my brother. So if you’re gonna do this, I think you’re just gonna have to take me with you.”
Mackie: "Last night I was, like, sitting around in a hotel and I was like, yo man, there’s a midnight screening and this is my first Marvel movie. I’mma go say what’s up to the people. So I grab a cab and shoot to 42nd Street, I walk in and I’m like what up, dog?”
Fallon: "Did people freak out?!”
Oberyn Nymeros Martell, Tyrion muttered under his breath as he fell in beside the man. The Red Viper of Dorne. And what in the seven hells am I supposed to do with him? He knew the man only by reputation, to be sure… but the reputation was fearsome. When he was no more than sixteen, Prince Oberyn had been found abed with the paramour of old Lord Yronwood, a huge man of fierce repute and short temper. A duel ensued, though in view of the prince’s youth and high birth, it was only to first blood. Both men took cuts, and honor was satisfied. Yet Prince Oberyn soon recovered, while Lord Yronwood’s wounds festered and killed him. Afterward men whispered that Oberyn had fought with a poisoned sword, and ever thereafter friends and foes alike called him the Red Viper.