I don’t curse people, I bless everyone around them.
horny for a meaningful relationship
i’m honestly one of those people that are just there like yeah i have friends and people talk to me but i’m nobody’s favorite person and nobody looks forward to talking to me everyday or anything and it sucks
|—||Shannon L. Alder (via maxkirin)|
"yeah, everything’s fine, i just tucked your kid into bed. but can i cover up the clown statue in the corner? it’s freaking me out"
"what? we dont have a kid. take our clown statue and get out of the house right now"
i miss when i was like 12 and it would be the night before a big field trip or something and i couldnt go to sleep because i was so excited. i miss being so into a book that i would stay up past my bed time reading it. everything seems so bland or something idk. i’m only 19 and everything is so tiring. i miss wanting to be awake
Finish the sentence: Do me
a favor and do me
and fucking do me
and then after that you’re going to fucking do me
#I’d say ‘that escalated quickly’#but actually it refused to escalate anywhere
He doesn’t remember it happening it the haze that follows him accepting that Rose is gone.
gone, not with him, not with her family. trapped in the void forever
(and oh that impossible word forever that had sounded so sweet on her lips, the impossible promise that he let himself believe that was now a mockery)
but when he looks at his hands, there are bruises forming and raw patches that are slowly oozing blood. it will heal in a few hours he thinks. superior biology.
(he turns to the side to boast to Rose about it since it’s always been a running joke and the fact that she’s not there grabs him by the throat and chokes the breath out of him, the pain of her absence akin to the pain of not being able to breathe.)
(that is, he’s dizzy and insensate and everything tingles and hurts because something essential is missing)
when he finally picks himself up to walk back to the TARDIS, he doesn’t look back at the wall. doesn’t see the smears of blood that he left on the pristine white surface; a marker that a tragedy had taken place in the sterile room.
can i just hate people and not feel guilty