teacher: what do you want to be when you grow up?
me: the saviour of the broken, the beaten, and the damned

ohawkguy:

someday i want someone to look at me the same way mark ruffalo looks at paul rudd

image

u deserve a nice boy who texts u back and buys u tacos and doesn’t kiss other girls behind ur back and who makes u laugh and thinks ur funny

strangecousinsusanx:

pale-fire:

Feminist Graffiti from the 1970s [x]

I haven’t seen this in a while. It never gets old.

howtotrainyouralpha:

I think once you’ve thought about how a person sleeps, how they’d feel pressed up against your back, or your head on their chest, how compatible your bodies would be in the same space of a bed-
once you’ve thought about that, you’re fucked.

mcsnuggie:

at this point my blood is probably 4.3% pasta sauce

Poetry doesn’t have to rhyme,
it just has to touch someone,
where your hands couldn’t.
— (via truzi)

[new text message/ 3:16 am]
I just drove 16 hours. I need to see you.

[new text message/ 2:09 am]
I’m drunk and I know I told you I didn’t want this anymore. But I want it. I want you. I’m sorry.

[new text message/ 12:13 pm]
Maybe if I could kiss you one more time everything would be alright.

[new text message/ 8:07 am]
Fuck. I shouldn’t have let you go.

[new text message/ 4:02 am]
Are you up? I miss you.

[new text message/ 4:05 am]
A lot.

[new text message/ 5:16 pm]
I saw something that reminded me of you and my throat caught fire.

[new text message/ 12:22 am]
I wish you were here.

[new text message/ 3:17 am]
I need you. Please call me back.

— 9 texts I wish you’d send me even though I know I’ll probably never hear from you again (via extrasad)

squidwardofficial:

waking up your friend the morning after a sleepover like

image

MS