agender femme
(she/her pronouns
[only cause its easier]),
aromantic grey-asexual,
vegetarian (working my way up to vegan)
occasionally NSFW (only boobs and stuff)
"Slightly" obsessed with foxes.
Currently in a relationship with the most incredible man in the world :)
This is just my little blog of the things I love and my world :)
(and numerous terrible jokes)
plus I follow back!! :D
my Instagram and Snapchat are also Malaayna
  • kitkatghost:


    How to, step-by-step, make expressions mean different things by changing just one facial feature at a time. *shrug* I’m not very good at explaining how I do expressions, I just…feel out what kinds of muscles seem to fit and tweak those. And sometimes, ever so slightly, little adjustments could mean the difference between fury and euphoria. 


    (via gingerofsuburbia)

  • heroin-paradise:


    Every time I read this my heart breaks

    In tears everytime

    (via cryomatik)

  • swexan:



    I’d just like to point out that 50 Shades of Grey was Twilight fanfic and Twilight was inspired by Muse so when you think about it, it’s kinda because of Muse that 50 Shades was written in the first place oh

    And Muse came from England which traces its roots back to the Anglo-Saxons and Romans, so really, in the end, Julius Caesar wrote 50 Shades of Grey.

    someone should totally just stab caesar

    (via cryomatik)

  • piertotum-locomottor:



    Post-It Notes from a Stay-At-Home Dad.

    These were all very entertaining :P

    I love how he calls his wife “permanent roommate”

    at least my coworker is hot


    (Source: drugcartels, via cryomatik)

  • hermionemollycharliepond:



    my year 8 students had to do a budgeting activity pretending they were living out of home on $2000 a month and I find this written on there help I can’t fucking breathe

    We had to do this and I was partnered with a boy whose parents are a scientist and a doctor. My family spawned the book: Top Drawer Villain - autobiography of a London criminal.

    First of all, we had to choose where we would shop. He wanted to buy from Booths. “We are not buying from Booths," I snapped. "Get on Asda’s website right now." His face froze.

    A-Asda?" he whispered. "But that’s where… The Lower Classes shop.

    This was a good start.

    We then had to decide on a menu. We started on breakfast. “Toast," he said.

    Toast," I said. "Great. Look, Asda has its own wholemeal—

    Warburton’s thick-slice white bread. Nothing else. With olive oil.

    You WHAT?" I choked. "You have olive oil, on your toast, in the morning?

    He frowned. “Who doesn’t?

    Okay," I said, "but what will the children eat?

    He gaped at me. “The children? We have children?

    We continued. All was well until it came to what we would have on our sandwiches. We even sorted out the children’s lunch - they, of course, would get free school meals. “Yes," he agreed; "if we can’t even afford Bertolli then they can get school meals on the government.

    He asked what dressing we should have on our ham. “Nuh-uh," I said. "Can’t have ham. I’m vegetarian.

    But I’m not.

    Yes, but we’re married and we can only afford one sandwich filler so it has to be vege—

    We’re married!?

    Of course we’re married! You’re devout Christian - how do you think I convinced you to have children?

    He shook his head, frowning. “Well I want ham. You’ll have to put back the washing powder - I need ham on my sandwiches.

    We continued. Finally, it was dinner. “Okay," he said, clearly thinking hard; "for dinner, we can have… Chicken nuggets and… Beans?


    Vegetarian nuggets then. And beans.

    We need vegetables. The children have to have a balanced diet.

    You and your children!" he yelled, and the whole class looked around.

    They’re your children too!" I screamed back.

    He leapt to his feet, shaking his head and looking distraught. “I don’t believe it - I don’t believe you! I wouldn’t have your children!

    Please," I cried, standing up also. "Don’t—

    I want a divorce!

    And he walked out of the classroom.

    The teacher stood up and stared between me and the door through which he had vanished. “I’m sorry," I whispered, "but we couldn’t do it any more. There were just too many differences - I can’t live with someone who thinks champagne is a budget.

    I can’t wait to see this guy when he gets to university.


    "I can’t live with someone who thinks champagne is budget"

    (via gingerofsuburbia)