h.

Steve: *is a good boyfriend*

I need to follow up to say I reblogged this last night, and this morning I got some of the best news of my life, like, a life dream come true news thing.

FUCK, I though it was just another lucky meme but LISTEN. Since a week ago I was waiting a phone call to confirm me if I got a job or not in my university. I reblogged this yesterday’s night “just for fun and because I don’t want any bagel to be mad with me”, and today’s afternoon, while I was losing my time as always, the professor I was supposed to work with called me and asked me for my personal information to start working with her.

YALL IVE FIGURED OUT WHY THE HEATHERS MOVIE HAS SUCH A DIFFERENT FEEL THAN THE MUSICAL

jd only killed ppl in hopes of stealing their eyebrows bc his r so bad. pass it on.

What she says: I’m fine.

Today, I am wearing lacy black underwear. For the sole purpose of knowing I am wearing them and underneath that I am absolutely naked and I’ve got skin, miles and miles of skin. I’ve got skin to cover all of my thoughts like saran wrap, that you can see through to what leftovers are inside from the night before. And despite what you might think, my skin is soft and smooth and easily scarred. But that doesn’t matter right? You don’t care about how soft my skin is, you just want to hear about what my fingers do in the dark. But what if all they do is crack open windows so I can see lightning through the clouds. What if all they crave is a jungle gym to climb for a taste of fresher air.