Charlie doodles, she punches a big ole tv screen. Imagining her venting after the meeting with Carmine

Did I imagine her singing “Bet On It” as I drew these? (yes)

i can handle one (1) Event™ per day. whether it be a phone call, an appointment, trip to the grocery store, play date with a friend, etc. only one, that's it. any more than that and i am Stressed

Can you imagine that somewhere on that fuckass laptop, in our universe, on green Earth, there is a KitTy kiss scene already written because Cassandra is almost at the end of the book and I can feel it in my kneecaps that she has this shit written as fuck WHAT THE FUCK

clary fairchild | the mortal instruments

i am 100% certain some shadowhunter somewhere has put brother enoch on their hear me out cake

The question is: Shouldn‘t we all?

just did a really good job of cutting a bagel there's no weird thin or thick parts it's all even all over. this is huge for me

your month, your flower friend!

thinking of new ways to be annoying and off putting give me a second

How it feels to find a fanfic where your favorite character is going through literally the worst horrors you can imagine

they should invent blankets that make you feel warm (good) but don't make you feel warm (bad)

HAPPY BIRTHDAY WIKIPEDIA EDITING ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

you have cat to be kitten me

Okay, but I would pay extra for this driveway.

Um, can I please get every neighborhood kid and animal to come walk across my driveway? Can I get a cat to just run around on there? This flock of ducks did such an amazing job!

I was 18 months old when my parents built their house. After pouring the concrete slab for the foundation, my father, world’s most sentimental man, carried me down into the hole so he could preserve a single imprint of my little baby foot in the house he was building for me to grow up in.

Naturally, I wriggled loose, so what is actually preserved for posterity in my parents’ basement floor is my mad dash through this glorious new mud pit, followed by my father’s footprints in hot pursuit, a visible scuffle where the fugitive was captured, and then my father’s prints returning to the ladder.

I hope some future archeologist finds your parent’s basement floor because they’re going to lie down on the ground and cry about it.

once i master my adhd and stop believing that i’m waiting for my life to begin and accept what i cannot change and finish cleaning my room and stick to a productive schedule and drink enough water and meditate and organize all the important papers in the paper pile and start being consistent and say the nice things to myself and gain confidence its OVER for you bitches

this is the true gen z experience

once in my sixth hour we were talking about 9/11 and i announced very loudly “more people died in hurricane maria than in 9/11 but nobody really cares because you can’t use hurricanes to justify imperialism” and then not even 5 seconds later i said “yeehaw my beets.”

man and you were only six hours old