bromar:

*goes to england*

me: excuse me, what time is it?

brit: time wots that m8?

*big ben chimes*

everyone starts to count the bongs on their fingers*

brit: OI IT’S 7 BONG

yiffmebabyonemoretime:

yiffmebabyonemoretime:

if i had a dime for everytime an adult man made me feel uncomfortable

image

Nothing ever ends poetically. It ends and we turn it into poetry. All that blood was never once beautiful. It was just red.
― Kait Rokowski (via percontes)

(Source: writingsforwinter)

She had rooms in her mind that she would not look into.
Wallace Stegner, Angle of Repose (via misswallflower)

spaloonbabuguuscooties:

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i didnt study for this

(Source: spaloonbabooguuscooties)