The Latest

Jul 28, 2014 / 270,607 notes
It all comes down to the last person you think of at night. That’s where your heart is
Jul 28, 2014 / 134,586 notes
Jul 28, 2014 / 9,451 notes
Jul 28, 2014 / 96,915 notes



Marrying young is not the end of my freedom. It means I want to travel and see the world, but with her by my side. It means I still like drinking in bars and dancing in clubs, but stumbling home with her at 2am and eating pizza in our underwear. It means I know that I want to kiss those lips every morning, and every night before bed. If you see marriage as the end of your ‘freedom’, you’re doing it wrong.

Well this was just beautiful

(via rebeccaajeann)

Jul 28, 2014 / 786,585 notes


hell yes

This is my man, betches.
Jul 28, 2014 / 13,871 notes



hell yes

This is my man, betches.

(via rebeccaajeann)

Your soulmate is not someone that comes into your life peacefully. It is who comes to make you question things, who changes your reality, somebody that marks a before and after in your life. It is not the human being everyone has idealized, but an ordinary person, who manages to revolutionize your world in a second…
Unknown - via scatteredneedles (via perfect)

(via rebeccaajeann)

Jul 28, 2014 / 165,976 notes
Jul 28, 2014 / 133,231 notes





'if lesbians use dildos why don't they just have sex with a man?'


'if straight men like fucking women in the ass why don't they just fuck men?'

Finally, a brilliant response to a dumb question.


Being married someday is going to be so cool. like you get to come home to your best friend every single day and just do life together.
unknown (via amortizing)
sigh. (via stephanieeeelala)

(via rebeccaajeann)

Jul 28, 2014 / 28,764 notes
Jul 28, 2014 / 273 notes

(via nazrn)

Jul 28, 2014 / 53,229 notes

(via vic3v3rsa)

and I know I speak like my heart was broken last night
even though it happened last January,
when I thought I was numb from the cold
but I was numb from you
and sometimes everything you left behind cuts into
my tongue and I find myself choking up your name
even though it’s been 3 months since you’ve called
and I’m not sure how your voice still plays in my head
when I can’t even remember how it sounds
and there are scars and bruises all over me that I
could’ve sworn had faded but everyone looks at me
like I’m about to collapse
and sometimes I kiss boys who grab me like they
want to break me and I let them because there’s
nothing left to break
and sometimes they taste like you
and I used to smile like I wasn’t empty
but you’re stuck in my head
and in my heart
and underneath my fingernails
and I’m so sorry but you can’t stay here
I’m a collection of unsaid goodbyes and thrown up 3 AM “I miss you’s” (via extrasad)

(via impactings)

Jul 28, 2014 / 8,670 notes