the world laughs in flowers

falconrune: thecuteoftheday: Heidi the rabbit! Heidi has...

Mon, 11 Mar 2013 00:20:23 -0400

thecuteoftheday:

Heidi the rabbit!

Heidi has arthritis in her knees and hips so to help with the pain, she swims a few times a week!

Sometimes she wears a scrunchie on her ears so that they don’t get wet!

"You are not weak just because your heart feels so heavy."

Mon, 11 Mar 2013 00:11:10 -0400

“You are not weak just because your heart feels so heavy.”

- Andrea Gibson (via thatkindofwoman)

colffeine: And maybe we were too young to know what love was....

Mon, 11 Mar 2013 00:08:27 -0400

colffeine:

And maybe we were too young to know what love was. But we did, and we still do.

Mon, 11 Mar 2013 00:07:49 -0400

Fic: Ad Libitum (chapter 2)

Fri, 01 Mar 2013 21:33:56 -0500

Fic: Ad Libitum (chapter 2):

alianne:

alianne:

Title: Ad Libitum
Rating: all audiences for now, but it will definitely go up later

Summary: What if Kurt and Blaine had never met in Ohio? What if Blaine, just starting his first year at NYADA, instead happens to run into him in a hallway of a performance school in New York? This is a story about how they meet, and everything that brought them there, and everything that happens from that point on.

Author’s Note: Chapter 2! Here it is! I always feel like I need to use the Author’s Notes to explain everything I write because I always have a hard time knowing when to let go of a chapter and let you guys read it. But, well. Here it is.

Again, so many thanks to mixedberryjam for the beta, I wouldn’t post anything without you! And bluecloudsupabove thanks for the support! I wouldn’t even have written anything without you! You are both The Best! *hugs*

Available on Livejournal or the AO3)

Reblogging because no one was online when I posted.

rembrandts: Kurt dipping Blaine was just too much for me to...

Thu, 29 Nov 2012 17:53:18 -0500

rembrandts:

Kurt dipping Blaine was just too much for me to take. So I threw my feels at my tablet.

"You turn eighteen, and nineteen, and twenty, and it doesn’t matter if you indulge in frosted cake..."

Tue, 27 Nov 2012 18:45:59 -0500

“You turn eighteen, and nineteen, and twenty, and it doesn’t matter if you indulge in frosted cake and birthday candles or not, the clock strikes and it sounds like a childhood’s sad song preached by no one in particular through an empty cathedral and it happens anyway. The universe will grant you a cotton lipped wish in apology, so, go ahead, buy the candles. You’re eighteen and you drink for the first time since the one incident mid-spring that made school unbearable and ruined the entire summer before you turned seventeen, and you end up crouched in between two couches crying out soft, broken nonsense. You’re eighteen and you’re half in love with your Literature teacher and you never admit to it because the action of it is fucked up enough, right, and you are not something even half lovable anyway. You see California that summer and the disease you carry everywhere of homesickness does not relapse during the night. You decide you have probably been going to the wrong places your entire life. You get a tattoo just before you turn nineteen, and almost everyone is there with you, and the bee’s kiss buzz of the needle feels grounding, like summer’s song rising from the season long rattling of your bones and turning it into poetry across your right thigh. You turn nineteen and no one is in town but your mom buys you a cake anyway and it is just another day. You have a lot of firsts that year, your first cigarette and your first New York sight, and they feel the same somehow. You take a drag of New York mid autumn and it feels like nothing you’ve ever felt and it burns a little and you’re not entirely sure you like it, but it makes you feel other worldly and inhuman, so you smoke two, three, ten more cigarettes that year and you go back to New York for a second and third time, and you love it this time, East Coast geography turned to nicotine in your system. The third time you go you turn twenty mid trip and you forget the birthday candles but you swear to yourself that you will never forget the year you were nineteen. You keep recycling words and memories to make sure you don’t forget. It’s probably because you have only been twenty for three months and this, the business of being an adult is both miserable and joyful and also a simple fact. You look in the mirror and you are twenty. You know, with a confidence that sometimes shakes you, that you want to create, to turn California mountains and shiny, indecisive, alcoholic youth into things people can tuck in their journals like pressed flowers. You know you won’t be happy otherwise, that there is no alternative to your happiness but the words, no plan b. You think you know your body and the places across it that can make you sigh out static, rumbling galaxies named Love, and you know already, that you like the feeling of tall boys with large hands, and how it feels to make promises with your body when there is a boy next to it and music in between you. You know this, but you do not know, yet, the feeling you dreamed of when you were sixteen and seventeen, of jumping from something tall and daring edged into a deep, fountain youthed body of water, but you see a beautiful girl at a party that takes your breath away and you imagine it might feel like her eyes meeting yours. She does, and you feel like you’re fifteen. You realize, one weekend, sitting by the curb of a stranger’s house, too drunk, too mean, too fucked up, that you are in indigo blue deep over your head. That to this day you do not know how to speak to your parents without feeling misunderstood and that there are still things you are not brave enough to even admit to your twenty year old self. That being twenty feels a lot like being nineteen, but with more panic attacks during the night, and the drowning feeling in your lungs. The next time the world forces you deeper into adulthood you make sure to buy candles, close your eyes, and wish on young and bright and impossible things.”

- Pale and Blue: (via goingoingone27)

Photo

Tue, 27 Nov 2012 06:27:05 -0500

Pre-mania Beatles. More like Chris Colfer and the Pips.

Sat, 24 Nov 2012 22:34:54 -0500

Pre-mania Beatles. More like Chris Colfer and the Pips.

klainebelievesinhappyendings: The day Burt Hummel utters the phrase; “Your mother would have loved...

Wed, 21 Nov 2012 18:58:28 -0500

klainebelievesinhappyendings:

The day Burt Hummel utters the phrase; “Your mother would have loved him.” to Kurt about Blaine will be the day I choke on my own tears and then fly into the sun.

Aren’t we supposed to die in a month or was that cancelled

Sun, 18 Nov 2012 21:55:22 -0500

Aren’t we supposed to die in a month or was that cancelled

Photo

Sun, 18 Nov 2012 17:31:04 -0500

"I am because we are"

Sat, 17 Nov 2012 23:48:33 -0500

“I am because we are””

Photo

Sat, 17 Nov 2012 14:13:58 -0500

rainystory: One more night AU Trailer | Klaine StorylineBlaine...

Sat, 17 Nov 2012 13:19:00 -0500

rainystory:

One more night AU Trailer | Klaine

Storyline
Blaine had it all. He was popular and dating the hottest girl in the school.
However, not everything was as it seemed.
Meanwhile, Kurt was the only openly gay in school. He was hopelessly in love with Blaine, but He knew he had no chance with him. But one night they run into each other in gay bar and it turned out that Blaine was gay as well and their feelings for each other were mutual. After that they started seeing each other but Blaine wanted to keep their romance a secret because he was afraid to come out and he didn’t want to lose his reputation…

Photo

Tue, 13 Nov 2012 12:29:23 -0500

machistado: This time I googled “fat baby seal” and found the...

Mon, 12 Nov 2012 17:16:13 -0500

machistado:

This time I googled “fat baby seal” and found the path towards permanent world peace.

Photo

Mon, 12 Nov 2012 17:15:34 -0500

squidwurd: srry my house is such a mess make urself at home

Mon, 12 Nov 2012 17:13:44 -0500

squidwurd:

srry my house is such a mess

make urself at home

coocachew: spiritedawayed: forgotten-sunsets: jarrodis: Satur...

Mon, 12 Nov 2012 17:11:22 -0500

coocachew:

spiritedawayed:

forgotten-sunsets:

jarrodis:

Saturday died in my arms last night. yesterday i had a feeling it would be that day. i just had a feeling. i have never watched something die before. he wouldn’t eat or drink and just wanted to snuggle, and as soon as he stopped breathing, his teeth clenched and his entire body went stiff. i was really confused and am really fucking sad. he had a nice last day, though. after i came home from the darkroom my dad and i gave him a warm bath in the backyard while he nibbled on apples. then i wrapped him up in a little towel burrito and we walked all around the neighborhood and it sounds stupid but i just showed him all these flowers, because i thought maybe he, in his lil rabbit brain, would think they were really pretty or something. i think he did. and i talked to him a lot yesterday, more than usual. told him about when i first met him, told him about a bunch of nice times we’d had together in case he’d forgotten in his old age. i sound retarded being this sentimental about a rabbit but honestly he was one of my best friends. and when someone or something is there almost your whole life, whether it’s a person, or an animal, or even something dumb like a table or a blanket, you feel it when it leaves. i suppose it was time. but it doesn’t make it easier. he has been there almost my whole life. (14 years! he was insane) it’s crazy. fuck. loved that little buddy. so fucking much.