this must be how it feels to have a home @thestarkbtch - Tumblr Blog

powerfulwizard

Tiny baby on the bus: 👀

Me: 👀

catgirl-crimes

Good news y'all

crowleys-a-thot

Whenever a baby stares at me from now on:

matchagirl

sorry but if your bed isn’t against at least one wall you’re not valid

heartsdesire456

I used to think this post was stupid because most people like both sides of the bed free but then I realized some psychopaths put their bed like this so not even the headboard is against a wall and this post is about these animals.

ranger-truth

A single person’s bed is generally against 2 walls, a couple’s bed is generally against 1 wall, and people with 0 walls have no fear of the dark/unseen with direct access to their head, and therefore cannot be human.

unnonexistence

ok the bed just out in the middle of the room is bad but have you considered: only the footboard end against a wall

crumplelush

no i hadn’t. why would you put that image into my head?

aceofsquiddles

demansiabites

Okay, but how is this

time-traveling-fetus

seravph

girls learn to watch themselves in third person so they can constantly fix their laugh and smile and hair and dancing and speech in hopes they can transform into a different person that someone will love and girls fear that if anyone sees them in their most candid self then they will be deemed unlovable and I’m so exhausted from practicing my smile in the mirror but girls also know that the ability to be loved is synonymous with their worth

vampiremotif

humansofnewyork

“When I got my first one, he thought I’d done it to make him angry. He told me that only criminals had tattoos. And he didn’t speak to me for three days after that. I was his youngest daughter. Both my siblings were twenty years older, so I was his little girl. And I don’t think he could let go. We’d argue all the time. But he just wanted to protect me from everything bad that could happen. When I was in high school, even if I came home from a party at 3AM, he’d be awake in the living room. I’d hear the TV turn off as soon as I walked in. And even after I moved out, he’d always call to see if I was OK. Actually he’d make my mom call. Because he was too proud to do it himself. Mom would make small talk for a few minutes, then she’d always say: ‘Your dad wants to ask you something.’ I remember one time his voice was breaking on the phone. He just kept pausing, and asking when I’d be coming home again. I think he already knew about the cancer. We discovered it so late. By then we only had about three months left. It was hard to see him get so weak. He’d been strong his entire life. He’d been working since the age of fourteen. Never for himself. He never spent his own money. It was all for us. Eventually it got to the point where he could only lay on his bed. He was so sleepy from the chemo. But even then he kept trying to protect me. He would just keep saying: ‘I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me at all. I don’t want you to worry.’” (Berlin, Germany)