currently
Reading:
The Picture of Dorian Gray
Watching:
House of Cards
Teen Wolf
Graceland
It Could Be Worse
Crying Over:
The Social Network
Steve/Bucky
Kieren/Simon
TJ Hammond
Jack Benjamin
Basil Hallward
Quote:
"I don’t know anything ever. I really don’t."--Sebastian Stan.
info
tbh most of it is in my sidebar. but i'm stina and i'm from NORTHERN california (socal isn't my fav place) but i'm gonna be in washington dc for college, which is hella. i like the color purple (could you tell?!) and i cry at everything. and i have a lot of fandoms. and this tab is basically pointless but you've read this far, so.

anyway, here's my non-tumblr contact page
networks
tsn nostalgia

bisexual steve rogers

avengers initiative

twenty one pilots/bastille

spielbach

babes of the barricade

james buchanan barnes

harry osborn

gute nacht, meine freunde :)

sebastian stan + emojis

dorkycas:

@mishacollins: I hate having to micromanage like this… (x)

the-thorster:

Five Times Chris Evans Succeeded In Left Boob Grabbing And One Time He Didn’t

Baby: t-tt - t- tttt
Parents: Oh honey, his first words!
Baby: t-ttt-tt-t
Baby: To be, or not to be-that is the question
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles
And by opposing end them. To die, to sleep-
No more-and by a sleep to say we end
The heartache, and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to. 'Tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wished. To die, to sleep-
To sleep-perchance to dream ay, there's the rub,
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause. There's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life.
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
Th' oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of th' unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscovered country, from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all,
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprise of great pitch and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry
And lose the name of action. - Soft you now,
The fair Ophelia! - Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my sins remembered.

hey if u just added me on snapchat can u let me know who u are on here? three people just added me and idk who two of them are, so :)

tonyshalube:

there should be an avengers tv show but it should be filmed and executed like parks and rec

barnse:

hi i’m peter man i mean i’m spider parker i mean fuck