captaindarkiplier

twinkletwinkleyoulittlefuck:

thepreciousthing:

adire-adire:

victorysunshine:

goldfish-kisses:

geek-in-a-box:

martiemcfly:

WHY ARENT THERE ADULT-SIZED PLAYGROUNDS

LIKE EVERYTHING IS THE SAME AS A KIDS PLAYGROUND

BUT BIGGER

WHY DO WE NOT HAVE THOSE

theme parks. just. theme parks.

but u have to pay for theme parks

that’s the adult part

son of a bitch

ladies and gentlemen, behold

the St. Louis City Museum:

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Playground for adults and children.

They even serve alcohol.

I know where we’re going guys

I have been there twice and it is heaven on earth. I’m 17 and it’s freaking awesome.

markiplier-is-pwetty

markiplier-is-pwetty:

trapg0ds:

joseguwop:

" i want a 6’3 boy "
bitch you need a job

have a seat 

men have preferences out the ass
"i want a girl with big boobs, thick thighs, a big ass, a tiny waist, long hair, no makeup, preferably a mix a mix between beyonce and a kardashian"

but if a girl has one preference, suddenly she’s an unemployed bitch

fuck outta here with this bullshit this post is trash 

I want a guy who got the booty. Preferably Markiplier.

baeliisbored

zeklos:

foreverdepressedteen:

allhailtheboyking:

IM GOING TO SCREAM IM IN CLASS AND THESE GIRLS WHO BULLIED ME IN 5TH GRADE ARE WHISPERING AND THEYRE LIKE

"holy shit did she go to our elementary school"

"i dont know if thats her"

"i rly dont think thats her guys"

AND THE TEACHER CALLED MY NAME AND THEY GO

"holy shit shes hot"

THIS

IS

THE

FUCKING

L I F E

YOU FUCKING GO IM PROUD OF YOU

OWN IT FOR ALL OF US

fanfictious

Wipe Off My Sweat |SeaChaos|

fanfictious:

Words: 505

Ratings: Every nightmare is a dream and every dream is a nightmare when the mind is clouded by the thoughts of another,

Warnings: Anthony’s got some weird ass nightmares, bruh.

Notes: For the beautiful anon asking for cute SeaChaos cuddles after Anthony had a night and for the gracious thelittletikes4lyf who let me choose one of three ships, so long as it was dark. Enjoy, loves. 

Vicious hazel eyes watch him, flaming within the inky shadows. A toxically malicious laugh booms around Anthony, who begins wiggling restlessly, blatant fear washing over him. Pathetically warbling as his hands remain motionless, tied down with thick chains that rattle like hollowed bone with each tremor of the Italian’s body.

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