Photo
cassiesteele:

I love so many #doughtnuts #imeanbitches

cassiesteele:

I love so many #doughtnuts #imeanbitches

(via mrcheyl)

Text

mama-panther:

[cries but also keeps eyeliner intact]

(via prettycheesy)

Tags: gpoy
Text

yoncevevo:

he’s cute but i’m not liking his selfie because i want him to know he ain’t shit

(via prettycheesy)

Audio

(Source: cureforsoul, via middled)

Tags: music
Quote
"Why does my happiness depend on your attention?"

— MB 4:24 a.m (via lavishyouth)

(Source: fvckupss, via prettycheesy)

Text

landorus:

cashier: that’ll be $4.20

me: bruh

cashier: bruh

(via prettycheesy)

Photo

(Source: mercu-ry, via night-shapes)

Photo
virginx:

"We part only to meet again"

virginx:

"We part only to meet again"

(via prettycheesy)

Photo
Text

jesspinkman:

being a pessimist is great i’m always either right or pleasantly surprised 

#the optimistic look on pessimism  

(Source: xcyst, via sexuallyactivegrandma)

Photo
Photo
Photo
disimba:


He even pulled his pants up so the bottoms wouldn’t get wet

disimba:

He even pulled his pants up so the bottoms wouldn’t get wet

(Source: icanlift, via listenand4give)

Tags: ALENA
Photo
criterias:

asylums still best

criterias:

asylums still best

(Source: willahpalvin, via iwontletthemcatchme)

Quote
"

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the sound I heard when I was 9 and my father slammed the front door so hard behind him I swear to god it shook the whole house. For the next 3 years I watched my mother break her teeth on vodka bottles. I think she stopped breathing when he left. I think part of her died. I think he took her heart with him when he walked out. Her chest is empty, just a shattered mess or cracked ribs and depression pills.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s all the blood in the sink. It’s the night that I spent 12 hours in the emergency room waiting to see if my sister was going to be okay, after the boy she loved, told her he didn’t love her anymore. It’s the crying, and the fluorescent lights, and white sneakers and pale faces and shaky breaths and blood. So much blood.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the time that I had to stay up for two days straight with my best friend while she cried and shrieked and threw up on my bedroom floor because her boyfriend fucked his ex. I swear to god she still has tear streaks stained onto her cheeks. I think when you love someone, it never really goes away.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the six weeks we had a substitute in English because our teacher was getting divorced and couldn’t handle getting out of bed. When she came back she was smiling. But her hands shook so hard when she held her coffee, you could see that something was broken inside. And sometimes when things break, you can’t fix them. Nothing ever goes back to how it was. I got an A in English that year. I think her head was always spinning too hard to read any essays.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s that I do.

"

— It’s not that I don’t love you.  (via ithurtssomuch)

(Source: extrasad, via iwontletthemcatchme)