2018 goal: don’t make the same mistakes as 2017

RB IF YOU ARE BI, SUPPORT BI PEOPLE, OR LIKE CATS

—  Steven Grant Rogers

above is a list of suicide hotlines from around the world. please do not feel as though you are alone, it is important to remember that you are not alone and there are thousands experiencing the same thing you are. there is always someone who is willing to listen to you and stand by your side during these dark times.

there needs to be a constant and ever growing conversation about mental health and how harmful and deadly it can become. we need people to no longer be scared to reach out, to speak, to share, to no longer feel trapped and suffering in silence, scared of what others may think.

reblogging this post can help save a life

I HAVE WAITED ALL YEAR TO POST THIS

Reblog if you're gay, lesbian, bisexual, pansexual, asexual, transgender or a supporter.

IF YOU SCROLL PAST THIS UNFOLLOW ME IMMEDIATELY I SWEAR TO GOD

*throws rainbow confetti in air*

Supporter. :3

SUPPORT!!!

SUPPORT

Support

Support all the way up!

Pan and ace

*tosses bi-ace confetti*

Puppy’s First Visit To The Beach Will Make All Other Dog Photos Out There Irrelevant

This little fella’s name is Champ. He’s a 9-week-old golden retriever that went to the beach for the first time in Hagar Township on Lake Michigan.

Photograher Patrick Holthof

Captain Swan Aesthetic: Lieutenant Duckling

Happy birthday, Liz! ♡ (@princesswan)

Awww :)

Reblog If You Can Take Off Your Bra Without Taking Your Shirt Off.

I think we broke the notes…

i feel like i’m reblogging history. “the post that broke the notes”

THERE ARE NO FUCKING NOTES

WE HAVE REACHED INFINITY

what the heLL

Um….guys….

There are negative notes….

WHY ARE THERE NEGATIVE NOTES?

HOW ARE THERE NEGATIVE NOTES?!?!?!?!

Its in the black hole of tumblr

At time of reblogging, this post has 1 note :’)

Uhm nothing was there then I hit the heart and 1 note popped up.. Guys I’m scared..

it has reset to 0 notes. what have you done?

now it’s floating in the middle of the thingy

EVERY DAMN TIME

There’s literally nothing there. 

What is this? 

I couldn’t scroll past this. I need to be part of history for this. There are no notes do you even realise

Let it be known I was here on this day of march twentieth twenty sixteen and I’m laying in bed at nine thirty am

WOO NO NOTES PARTYYY

WTF IS THIS?!?! IM CONFUSED NO NOTES WUT DA ACTUAL FUCK

I LIKED IT AND IT HAD ONE NOTE.

ONE.

NOTE.

Oh wow there are seriously no notes..

What the heck.

OH MY GOSH IT’S TRUE. There were 0 notes, now i liked and just one note popped up! I’m.. I’m not sure how this can happen..? But now I’m part of history YEAH 24th March 2016 - 03:05 am

WHOA SO WEIRD

I just had to see it for myself and it’s true. Holy crap.

On this day, March 24th, 2016 at 12:22 in the afternoon, I have made myself part of history.

it’s back

Huh….

I’ll probably always reblog this

I feel like tumblr staff have been motoring this post and they put a special code in it so no notes ever show up

This post is historic

Always reblog the broken post 💪🏼

I don’t understand what’s happening

There isn’t even a point liking this, just reblog

@lds-fbi

Reblogging for historic post

Yep. No notes.

whoa

Wow look I’m a part of tumblr history

No notes, I’m love it

NO NOTES

THIS IS SOME WIZARD SHIT IDEC ITS 28/03/17 AND STILL NO NOTES

The fuck is this shit? Mega confused y'all.

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCKKKJKK

A blip!!!!!!

WHAT THE FRICK FRACK IS HAPPENING THERE ARE NO NOTES WTF

Pirate Diplomacy

A quick thing that I’m dedicating to @shoedonym, who had the idea of Killian threatening people while looking, well, like this.

It’s almost night time in Storybrooke. The hour between light and dark, where distances grow fuzzy and the eyes play tricks.

The thieving hour, it ought to be called. At least, in the opinion of a young criminal mastermind by the name of Jack Bradagan, who is probably given to more poetic flights of fancy than most thieves.

Storybrooke, he has discovered in the short time since he stumbled through a portal, is a very sleepy, unassuming town. The port is far less crowded than any he’s ever visited back home. In fact, at this hour, it’s all but deserted. There is no noise and light spilling from taverns beckoning sailors to drink and spend their coin, no brothel or loitering whore to be seen anywhere, no late-night gambling or merchant stalls.

He has his target. He has his crew. He also has a sword, and several knives hidden in strategic places upon his person. He takes a deep breath, then motions to the other four, and they make their way along the docks, to the lone sailing ship tied up at the pier. The Jolly Roger.

The gangplank is down. Jack leads the way up to the deck, almost giddy with excitement. The price he paid for the tip-off looks to have been worth it. It’s not nearly this easy to even board a ship back home.

“I don’t think you want to do that, mate,” says a man’s voice behind him. It’s a hard, world-weary sort of voice, a voice that has seen more than its share of thievery. It’s followed by a soft cooing sound that seems out of place. The voice goes on, “Turn around.”

Jack is already doing so. His heart is simultaneously somewhere around his knees, and trying to jump into his throat. He knows that voice, or rather, he knows what a voice like that means. It’s a voice used to giving orders. He’s heard it from many a captain, though never quite like this.

The man standing in front of him looks like he was made for thieving hour. He is dark-haired and dressed in shades of black and grey and navy, so that he seems to blend into the falling night, except for the pale skin of his face and hand. His one hand, which is currently holding a sword, the curved blade pointing at Jack. The other arm ends in a wicked curve of metal. More metal gleams at his belt: a strange-looking badge of some kind.

Strapped to his chest is a baby. Jack blinks, taken aback, but it is definitely a baby, cradled against the man’s chest, tiny hands flailing a little.

Keep reading

It’s a conversation that’s a while in the making.

Only partly because of Emma’s own reluctance to broach the subject.

They’ve come a long way, the pair of them, truths and fears and uneasy declarations slip from lips nowadays far more easily than they ever did before. But that’s not entirely the point. The point is that it’s still a difficult conversation, the point is that there are still some things she’s afraid of. Hard things are still hard with or without courage. Hard things still form a misshapen lump in her throat – with or without his encouraging hand in hers, with or without the cursory kisses to her temple.

With or without that thick feeling in her heart when she thinks about the two of them as some sort of perpetual thing.

It’s just a different kind of hard.

(She loves him too much for it to be anything but.)

Keep reading

This is beautiful and heart breaking

My gay heart

I don’t think straight people even understand we have this fear

A very quick messy sketch of Killian with his and Emma’s baby, since Colin said he’d use one of these carrier things.

(sorry about the watermarks, unfortunately some people are jerks. DO NOT REPOST PEOPLE’S ART, PLEASE JUST REBLOG/SHARE!)

some fucking resources for all ur writing fuckin needs

Jen & Colin in the S2-S6 Bloopers

🍁autumn-dreamin🍁