WE’RE GETTING AN EXTRA HOUR OF DESTIEL LETS GOOOO

I’m fucking yelling I found this klance drawing on my computer from 2016 and I have no recollection of drawing it and I don’t think I ever posted it?????

I’m losing my shit

I envy people who can fall asleep as soon as their heads make contact with a cushion. I am lying in bed awake at 1 in the morning thinking about how I am horrible at socializing. Tell me your methods please .

To socialize and sleep.

¡felíz día de los muertos!

ghost choir 👻 🎵

Toph is the best it's a fact

Iroh: so Toph, what are your goals in life?

Toph: I’ve been banned from every major city’s transportation system except Omashu

Toph: I don’t know what their limit is but I will fucking find it 

going through my concert videos and immediately thought of this post:

you’re telling me josh sings as the torchbearer during this part…

Paul once reminded me, 'Don't forget, you're not very good, any of you, you know that, don't you?' I had forgotten, I had. It had gotten to the point where I was really believing in myself, you know, really having a good time being me. Apple was in its (comparatively) early days. I had been back from America three months, this was summer 1968. It was design time for stationery and advertisements and logos, we were building our image by being and that was trouble, being. Being was sticking your neck out and getting bites all over it. I don't think I ever hated anyone as much as I hated Paul in the summer of 1968. Postcards would arrive at my house from America or Scotland or wherever, some outright nasty ones, some with no meaning that I could see, one with a postage stamp torn in half and pasted neatly showing the gap between the two halves. Joan received one bearing the words: 'Tell your boy to obey the schoolmasters,' and signed: 'Patron.' Far out. Lots of people were getting postcards in those days; Christ, you know it wasn't easy. These were the days long before Klein came into town. These were the days when Neil Aspinall as Managing Director would come into my room in Apple in the middle of the day and collapse on the sofa and sit, staring and staring. He tells me now it was fear. I knew then it was fear. We were all frightened. We were frightened of Them and we were frightened of each other and we were frightened of the press. At about this time Paul wrote 'Hey Jude'. Remember: make a sad song better.

As Time Goes By, Derek Taylor (1973)

imagine meeting a boy you think is cute when ur 15 and writing some music together and through a series of events multiple MULTIPLEEEE people end up brutally murdered about it including the boy. this happened to my good friend sir james paul mccartney-

Me

Biggest failing of the internet is that in order to be vibing with my friends I have to actually be talking to them. I socialize like a cat I just show affection by sitting next to you. Ily but sometimes I have Nothing to say. Not a damn thing going on in my head

One of my favorite things to do is read. I can spend hours of my day devoted to reading a book. I have an entire bulleted list of books I desperately want to read. I love to read because I live for the feeling of getting lost in them.

they’re so fucking rom-comy that’s what gets me. The 1950s summer meetcute set to a perfect and lyrically pertinent soundtrack?? The joke that is a gangly teenage boy looking like Elvis when viewed by someone who’s legally blind?? the whole good boy corrupted by an older leather bound teddy boy much to the dismay of his overprotective father thing they’ve got going on?? romantic trips to PARIS of all places?? they’re so fucking cliché who wrote this shit