UNDER NORTHERN SKIES.
1,001 notes

(Source: nevermindtheb0ll0cks, via nevermindtheb0ll0cks)


11,835 notes clementattlee:

this will always be my favourite picture of england

clementattlee:

this will always be my favourite picture of england

(via perksofbeingmental)


276,153 notes simonsprocket:

ruinedchildhood:

Drive Through

Instructions unclear

simonsprocket:

ruinedchildhood:

Drive Through

Instructions unclear

(via perksofbeingmental)


181,403 notes

annieleonhardt:

boys who hate bright lipsticks because “itll get all over them” fail to realize it will come nowhere near them

(via perksofbeingmental)


18,531 notes

(via butim-sirius)


1,831 notes "I take myself out to dinner and do not look at my phone once. I do not call a friend up and ask them to join me. I listen attentively to the conversation in my head. I walk with myself to the library. Read novels, magazines, dusty collections of poetry. Browse zines online and buy a stack of ones that catch my interest. I close my eyes in bed and put my hands in-between my thighs. Know when to go faster, when to slow down, when to speed it up. I moan without shame. I make myself coffee, sip it languorously on my balcony, let my bare shoulders be warmed by the sun and ignore my neighbor’s sideways looks. I put on lipstick on the days I am not leaving the house. Walk around confidently, wearing only underwear and carelessness. Shake my limbs to the busting beat of a song and do not worry about my arms going one way and my legs another. I bite down hard on “monogamy.” Swish it around in my mouth, run my tongue over its bumps and curves, and then spit it out. I bleed on scraps of paper. Let my thoughts out. Listen to them more intently than any person could. I see all parts of me and do not blush. I do not look away. I do not try to run. I stare deeper. Force myself to keep eye contact. Accept all that is inside of me. Make my apologies. I bend my hands in forgiveness. I rise, dripping in the blood of past and future guilt and say, it is okay. All of you. All of me. It is okay."
In A Committed Relationship With Myself | Lora Mathis 
(via lora-mathis)

76,803 notes

greetings:

waking up from hangover like

image

(via perksofbeingmental)


19,387 notes

(Source: not-a-bang-a-whimper, via uglyandyoung)


96,251 notes diamondinbrute:

 

diamondinbrute:

 

(Source: yehitslogan, via mddykng)


3,639 notes

theperksofdatingme:

the perks of dating me: i can recite just about every episode of Friends from memory

(via lilfoxie)


606 notes

coffing:

i need to get laid by yesterday


39,495 notes christs:

(via Tumblr Archive Poster)

christs:

(via Tumblr Archive Poster)

(Source: minxina, via extrasad)


4,674 notes "The first time he calls you holy,
you laugh it back so hard your sides hurt.
The second time,
you moan gospel around his fingers
between your teeth.
He has always surprised
you into surprising yourself.
Because he’s an angel hiding his halo
behind his back and
nothing has ever felt so filthy
as plucking the wings from his shoulders—
undressing his softness
one feather at a time.
God, if you’re out there,
if you’re listening,
he fucks like a seraphim,
and there’s no part of scripture
that ever prepared you for his hands.
Hands that map a communion
in the cradle of your hips.
Hands that kiss hymns up your sides.
He confesses how long he’s looked
for a place to worship and,
oh,
you put him on his knees.
When he sinks to the floor and moans
like he can’t help himself,
you wonder if the other angels
fell so sweet.
He says his prayers between your thighs
and you dig your heels into the base of his spine
until he blushes the color of your filthy tongue.
You will ruin him and he will thank you;
he will say please.
No damnation ever looked as cozy as this,
but you fit over his hips like they
were made for you.
You fit, you fit, you fit.
On top of him, you are an ancient god
that only he remembers and he
offers up his skin.
And you take it.
Who knew sacrifice was so profane?
And once you’ve taught him how to hold
your throat in one hand
and your heart in the other,
you will have forgotten every other word,
except his name.
"
PROFANE, by Ashe Vernon (via latenightcornerstore)

(via latenightcornerstore)


34,352 notes

Do I Wanna Know? by Arctic Monkeys
2,080 notes

Only Love by Ben Howard