megurashka:

this is so funny

(via iwilleatyourenglish)

He looks at rihanna. Like how i feel when i look at rihanna

He looks at rihanna. Like how i feel when i look at rihanna

(via florencelovesyou-deactivated201)

(via bogleech)

thestateonmtv:
“ suitep:
“Nixon’s last White House lunch before announcing his resignation, 43 years ago today.
”
I think about this all the time ……… dick u were an absolute ledge
”

thestateonmtv:

suitep:

Nixon’s last White House lunch before announcing his resignation, 43 years ago today. 

I think about this all the time ……… dick u were an absolute ledge

(via theghoulfucker)

gayhets:
“priest-kink-aesthetic:
“So uh yeah…I made a thing…..someone stop me please.
”
this post honestly made me astral project
”

gayhets:

priest-kink-aesthetic:

So uh yeah…I made a thing…..someone stop me please.

this post honestly made me astral project

(via roxolotl-remaking-deactivated20)

groovy-iyo:

Rihanna for Dazed Magazine by Harley Weir

mylittlenanaki:

Maud opening up to Starlight. Season 7, episode 4, Rock Solid Friendship.

We never had to say it, but…we got each other.

(via mylittlenanaki)

curseworm:

getlonelybythemountaingoats:

curseworm:

curseworm:

catholic school speedrun

during the first liturgy if you slap the communion wine out of the priests hands and collapse at his feet hollering in tongues you can clip right through the floor and go straight to hell

i can’t read but the phrase “hollering in tongues” makes me wish i could

thank you. i love you

(via curseworm)

shirazade:

Tessa Thompson photographed by Timothy Sean O’Conell

(via arcticwaters)

bogleech:

snails that look like this exist

I have no idea what they’re called

the photographer wants to be anonymous

(via speciesofleastconcern)

(via werewolve)

pagewoman:

“I went out to the hazel wood, Because a fire was in my head, And cut and peeled a hazel wand, And hooked a berry to a thread; And when white moths were on the wing, And moth-like stars were flickering out, I dropped the berry in a stream And caught a little silver trout. When I had laid it on the floor I went to blow the fire a-flame, But something rustled on the floor, And someone called me by my name: It had become a glimmering girl With apple blossom in her hair Who called me by my name and ran And faded through the brightening air. Though I am old with wandering Through hollow lands and hilly lands, I will find out where she has gone, And kiss her lips and take her hands; And walk among long dappled grass, And pluck till time and times are done, The silver apples of the moon, The golden apples of the sun.”

The Song of Wandering Aengus :

W. B. Yeats   

(via pagewoman)

(via curseworm)