When friends wonât believe theyâre cute and perfect
when friends insist that youâre cute and perfect
shhhhhhhh youâre cute and perfect deal with it
Oh god that works so perfectly

Love Begins

izzy's playlists!
Sweet Seals For You, Always

Origami Around
đȘŒ

if i look back, i am lost
Peter Solarz
wallacepolsom

â

ç„æ„ / Permanent Vacation
Stranger Things
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
I'd rather be in outer space đž

shark vs the universe
Misplaced Lens Cap
$LAYYYTER
No title available
we're not kids anymore.
Aqua Utopiaïœæ”·ăźćșă§èšæ¶ă玥ă
taylor price

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@nevergarish
When friends wonât believe theyâre cute and perfect
when friends insist that youâre cute and perfect
shhhhhhhh youâre cute and perfect deal with it
Oh god that works so perfectly
Things get better.
Itâs a terrible thing, I think, in life to wait until youâre ready. I have this feeling now that actually no one is ever ready to do anything. There is almost no such thing as ready. There is only now. And you may as well do it now. Generally speaking, now is as good a time as any.
Hugh Laurie   (via agypsysoultoblame)
This is the truth.
(via thelingerieaddict)
zefrank1 has to be my all-time favorite user on youtube, and favorite internet artist period.
I admit -- I cried the first time I watched this.
That moment when your life drawing homework asks you to draw yourself as you look in a mirror remembering your first kiss, and you can't do it.
...
Yeah.
Finished reading Catching Fire just now. ... Welp. All my mind is doing is "Gahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh"
âExcuse me while I throw this down, Iâm old and cranky and tired of hearing the idiocy repeated by people who ought to know better. Real women do not have curves. Real women do not look like just one thing. Real women have curves, and not. They are tall, and not. They are brown-skinned, and olive-skinned, and not. They have small breasts, and big ones, and no breasts whatsoever. Real women start their lives as baby girls. And as baby boys. And as babies of indeterminate biological sex whose bodies terrify their doctors and families into making all kinds of very sudden decisions. Real women have big hands and small hands and long elegant fingers and short stubby fingers and manicures and broken nails with dirt under them. Real women have armpit hair and leg hair and pubic hair and facial hair and chest hair and sexy moustaches and full, luxuriant beards. Real women have none of these things, spontaneously or as the result of intentional change. Real women are bald as eggs, by chance and by choice and by chemo. Real women have hair so long they can sit on it. Real women wear wigs and weaves and extensions and kufi and do-rags and hairnets and hijab and headscarves and hats and yarmulkes and textured rubber swim caps with the plastic flowers on the sides. Real women wear high heels and skirts. Or not. Real women are feminine and smell good and they are masculine and smell good and they are androgynous and smell good, except when they donât smell so good, but that can be changed if desired because real women change stuff when they want to. Real women have ovaries. Unless they donât, and sometimes they donât because they were born that way and sometimes they donât because they had to have their ovaries removed. Real women have uteruses, unless they donât, see above. Real women have vaginas and clitorises and XX sex chromosomes and high estrogen levels, they ovulate and menstruate and can get pregnant and have babies. Except sometimes not, for a rather spectacular array of reasons both spontaneous and induced. Real women are fat. And thin. And both, and neither, and otherwise. Doesnât make them any less real. There is a phrase I wish I could engrave upon the hearts of every single person, everywhere in the world, and it is this sentence which comes from the genius lips of the grand and eloquent Mr. Glenn Marla: There is no wrong way to have a body. Iâm going to say it again because itâs important: There is no wrong way to have a body. And if your moral compass points in any way, shape, or form to equality, you need to get this through your thick skull and stop with the âreal women are like such-and-soâ crap. You are not the authority on what ârealâ human beings are, and who qualifies as ârealâ and on what basis. All human beings are real. Yes, I know youâre tired of feeling disenfranchised. It is a tiresome and loathsome thing to be and to feel. But the tit-for-tat disenfranchisement of others is not going to solve that problem. Solidarity has to start somewhere and it might as well be with you and me.â
Hanne Blank (via thestoutorialist)
I feel that this is so important it was necessary to be reblogged once if not more. The whole notion of âreal womenâ is absurd and disrespectful.You are not doing any woman any favours by proclaming that âreal women have curves.â What about the smaller women with A cup breasts; do they not count as âreal women.â
I understand the idea behind the âreal women have curvesâ because, after all, it is important to promote body positivity. However, is it really necessary to deride less curver women as inherently less womanly? No. Women come in all shapes and sizes, as the essay above outlines, and NO ONE has the right to decree what a âreal womanâ should look like.
Repeat after me:
There is no wrong way to have a body.
There is no wrong way to have a body.
THERE IS NO WRONG WAY TO HAVE A BODY
/end discussion
(via rose-tinted-vintage)
Pretty sure Iâve reblogged this before.
Itâs worth reblogging again.
(via thelingerieaddict)
Men and women, we are all real no matter how we are.
I always remember this show oh-so fondly.
Illustrations by bloochikn at deviantart.com
The universe is evil sometimes. I want some cake so bad, but our oven is out. I want recreational activities, but I am sick. I want to eat this banana, but my asshole kitten knocks it to the floor. Fuck you, universe. How would you feel if I knocked your banana to the floor?
Breakfast sausage is seriously like the best shit ever. I don't even care about the dick jokes people would make.
Reality and my own thoughts are like my two worst enemies.
I giggled way too much at this.
"What happens when you ring up Land O Lakes butter at a grocery store."
Why can I never remember that I am incapable of curling my hair and not having it look like a total mess? D:
I just need to throw those stupid foam curlers out.
My day was just made by reading a debate on Dragon Age: Origins vs. Dragon Age 2.
My conclusion: They tried too damn hard to push a game out too damn soon, and attract a new damn pack of kids to a game that was supposed to be goddamn tactical, not a goddamn button masher. And I wasn't the only one to think that.
Seriously BioWare, the tactical combat is one thing that made me love DA:O. Why did you take that away from me? Why?
That moment when you're watching the "virgins" episode of RuPaul's Drag U, and you're damn near in the same category that's seen as pitiable. 22 and a virgin really isn't that bad of a thing. I'm not proud, but I'm not ashamed either. I mean, it's my body, and it's not defined by society's milestones. But I ain't no prude either. It'll happen when it happens. Side note: RuPaul is awesome.
Indoor/Outdoor hot tub. Waaaaant.
Yet another section to add onto my dream house.
I want... All of them.