Theme

It Was a Dark and Stormy Night...
megustamemes:

One man’s loss is another man’s gain.

megustamemes:

One man’s loss is another man’s gain.

(via veogirl)

rootswillbindus:

duplication:

don’t cross oceans for people who wouldn’t cross a puddle for you.

No, do it. Do cross oceans for people. Love people, all people. No conditions attached, no wondering wether or not they’re worthy. Cross oceans, climb mountains. Life and love isn’t about what you gain, it’s about what you give.

(via leaf-royblood13)

ask-theoff:

jadedkitten:

fandom-mused-fandom-games:

WAIT
WHAT
WHEN DID THIS HAPPEN
OH MY GOD 

SPREAD THE WORD

REBLOGGING AGAIN

ask-theoff:

jadedkitten:

fandom-mused-fandom-games:

WAIT

WHAT

WHEN DID THIS HAPPEN

OH MY GOD 

SPREAD THE WORD

REBLOGGING AGAIN

(via saggitaruwhatever)

buddha-kid:

Unconditional love really exists in each of us. It is part of our deeper being. It’s not “I love you” for this or that reason, not “I love you if you love me.” It’s love for no reason, love without an object. It’s just sitting in love, a love that incorporates the chair and the room and permeates everything around. The thinking mind is extinguished in love. If I go into the place in myself that is love and you go into the place in yourself that is love, we are together in love. Then you and I are truly in love, the state of being love. That’s the entrance to Oneness

buddha-kid:

Unconditional love really exists in each of us. It is part of our deeper being. It’s not “I love you” for this or that reason, not “I love you if you love me.” It’s love for no reason, love without an object. It’s just sitting in love, a love that incorporates the chair and the room and permeates everything around. The thinking mind is extinguished in love. If I go into the place in myself that is love and you go into the place in yourself that is love, we are together in love. Then you and I are truly in love, the state of being love. That’s the entrance to Oneness

(via laughing--daisies)

bikinipowerbottom:

"She’s really pretty for a black girl"

image


“He’s really cool for a gay guy”

image


“She’s doing really well for a woman”

image

(via hanniballecktor)


this is the most important gif on the INTERNET

this is the most important gif on the INTERNET

(Source: theprincessofarendelle, via laughing--daisies)

Benoit wants the K

When Benoit opened his door, he was surprised to see a note on the floor just over the threshold. He blinked curiously, bending to pick it up- it had his name written on it, in pretty handwriting. With a jolt, he realized that it wasn’t in Japanese- it took a moment for him to notice- so with a hopeful smile on his lips he flipped it over to read it. Only one person he knew would write something to him not in Japanese, and sure enough…

shslsweetconfectioner:

"Ah, Benoit, there you are~!" Iris said happily when she spotted the smaller male enter the kitchen, closing the door behind him. He took out his white board and started to scribble on it as he walked over to her.

'I got your note, why did you want me?'

Iris quickly read the words on the board, nodding slightly. “I wanted to know if you could help me with something, that’s all~” She turned her back to him, and started to search through a few drawers as he walked closer to her. “I thought… I could shake things up, have someone help me directly, you know?” She glanced to him over her shoulder, sending him a grin- it looked a bit wider than her normal ones…

"Don’t be shy though, c’mon~ Come closer~" The blonde waved a gloved hand to beckon him to her. He stopped moving behind her, not directly, but in the perfect spot…

The smile on her face widened to a creepy grin. “It’s just… Gotten so booooring… I want something fun to happen~ Hee~” She giggled a bit, before one of her hands gripped something that was in the drawer. She lifted her hand, and pulled it away from the drawer, closing it after. “Thanks for being the…” the blonde paused, musing what the correct word to use was. “..Sacrifice.

Suddenly she turned towards him, a few skewers in her hand. They easily tore through the small boy’s shirt and skin as she pushed them into his stomach, digging in deep enough to just barely poke out the other side. “Hee~” Iris’ expression seemed alien for the girl, her eyes wide and crazed.

"<I’m sorry, Benoit…>" she whispered as she stepped closer, wrapping her free arm around him, her hand holding the back of his head and holding him to her. "<But it had to be you… It’ll be okay…>" She didn’t sound so sorry… "<I just… Got so bored… And hungry.>” with that she pulled away, ignoring the blood that got on her dress and the trail of drool sliding down from the corner of her mouth.

"<Good night~ Heehee~>" The blonde yanked the skewers back out, stepping back as blood fell from the small male and he fell to the floor. Her crazed eyes normalized slightly as she watched the life drain from him. She lifted up the weapons, licking a bit of the blood off of them, giggling to herself.

"<Delicious~!>"

Mon cher Benoit,

Pourriez-vous m’aider avec une petite chose? Il me ferait plaisir! Vous arrivez à la cuisine très rapidement, s’il-vous plaît! À bientôt!

Bons baisers,

Iris

He grinned excitedly, then stuffed the note into his pocket. The boy’s heart pounded in his chest. She wanted to see him enough to ask for him! Of course he would help, with whatever she wanted. 

Benoit hurried to the kitchen excitedly, then hesitated outside of the door. He took his beret off and ran a hand over his hair before putting it back on. He didn’t want to look too excited.

The boy cracked the door open slowly, peeking in to make sure Iris was in there. Then, he slipped inside, letting it shut behind him. He smiled widely at Iris as he pulled out his whiteboard, quickly writing on it. “I got your note, why did you want me?" As she started to sift through the drawers, he walked a little closer, curious. Was she going to get him to help her cook again? That was so much fun the last few times. He remembered last time, she had held her hand over his on the spoon, teaching him how to stir the batter right… His cheeks flushed quickly, and he was thankful his face was painted so that she wouldn’t see. 

She turned around and grinned at him - oh no, could she see that he was blushing? - before beckoning him closer, and he nodded quickly. He was just behind her now, right to the side, and he tried to peer over her shoulder to see what she was looking for. He looked down, starting to write a question on the board to see if he could help her look, but stopped when she spoke again. Her voice sounded… different. She shut the drawer, so he assumed she had found what she was looking for. Benoit began to erase the half-written question.

He looked up uncertainly, a look of confusion on his face when she hesitated while thanking him. His smile was still there, it was just a little more questioning. He tilted his head a little to one side. but then she found the word.

Benoit’s eyes widened in shock as Iris plunged a fist full of skewers into his stomach, sending an eruption of pain through his body. He was frozen in horror, trying to register what happened. What was going on? 'Did she just…' The marker and whiteboard slipped from his grasp, clattering to the ground.

'…. stab me?'

Iris then switched to French, apologizing. It was a good thing, because his mind probably wouldn’t have been able to register the translation from Japanese. 

She had just attacked him.

His lip trembled, and his eyes glazed over with tears. Then, she embraced him, lovingly cradling the back of his head. “<I-Iris… I don’t… I don’t underst-stand…>” His voice shook more than his body was. “<W-why…?>” The tears slipped out of his eyes, and the pain in his chest was a thousand times worse than the pain of the skewers. She assured him that it would be okay, he would be okay…. How could he be okay? It was hard to breathe, he couldn’t… Benoit coughed violently as blood filled his throat, and it spilled from his black-painted lips, staining the shoulder of Iris’ dress. The sudden movement sent ripping pain through his abdomen, and he felt unsteady and lightheaded.

Iris pulled back, and his eyes were already dulling. It wasn’t going to take long. She roughly ripped the skewers out of him, and the wound poured the now-freed blood down his body. Without her support, he collapsed to the ground as his own life pooled around him. Tears still streaming down his face, he worked hard to use what little was left of his strength to pull a bracelet off of his left hand, clasping the crucifix of the rosary tightly in his hands. 

He was barely conscious now. "Sainte Mère de Jésus, mon ange gardien…” He whispered, as quickly as he could. It was barely audible, and he was gasping for the breath to get the words out. The room was spinning and turning black, and he couldn’t feel the pain in his stomach any more. It was more of just… numbness. 

"Saint Joseph et mon saint patron…" He could hardly make out Iris licking blood off of the skewers. His blood. 

"P-portégez-moi…" Benoit was getting desperate now. He couldn’t have moved his limbs if he tried, but he had to finish the prayer. He had to. 

What came next? He couldn’t think, couldn’t see, everything was gone except the sharp smell of blood and the cold floor. Benoit tried to close his eyes, to take another breath, but he couldn’t.

…spécialement à l’heure de ma mort…’

His heart stopped. It had taken less than two minutes.

Ainsi soit-il.

things—are—queer:

bobbycaputo:

Photographer Swallows 35mm Film, Allows Digestive Fluids To Create Astounding Images

SCREAMING HOLY SHIT THIS IS AMAZING AHHHHHH

fiyero-rocher:

theatre = art form

theater = location

if it has musical numbers = musical

if it does not = play

when in doubt, just call it a show

(via veogirl)

truebeliever980:

Spring 2014. Never forget.

truebeliever980:

Spring 2014. Never forget.

(via veogirl)