In the New York Museum of Sex, there’s a bouncy castle made of bo*bs

communistbakery:

did-you-kno:

image

image

image

image

did u really sensor the word boob I’m gonna piss myself

• Stay up with me till 4am talking about what makes your heart race and whether you bite the head or the body of the gummy bears first.

• Ask me to read you your horoscope because you know I love that stuff so much, even though you think it’s bullshit.

• Use the word promise, not for anything big but for little things. Promise me the sun will rise. Promise me the sky is blue. Promise me that while so many people think the dirt on the ground is ugly it will still always have the ability to let beautiful things grow from it.

• Don’t ignore my writing when you know it’s about you. Don’t hate it. Don’t hate it. Even if you do. You’ll learn eventually that I wear my heart on my tongue and I hate that fact enough for both of us, but it’s who I am at 2am.

• Hold me to protect me from the monster under the bed, Hold me when I am the monster under the bed.

• Understand that sometimes I need you to get mad at me and I need you to argue, because I need to know you care and I was raised on the idea that anger is how people show care. Understand I’m working on erasing that but I’ll never get it out of my system completely.

• Let me in.

• Let me let you in.

If you ever think you’ve lost control of your life please know i just spent 45 minutes sitting on my bed looking in the mirror with my phone, trying to angle the camera differently, with my hand in front of the lens, to attempt to make it look like i was getting grabbed by a giant hand all for a fucking snapchat.

wwjdwtbfb

michaxl:

what would jesus do with that big fat butt

doriftuh:

PROCEED line up ~