Sophia. 18. Boston, MA
1 234


angels-of-porn:

mihlayn:

new zealand’s finest

Why do I live here 

vaginapowersactivate:

vaginapowersactivate:

my brother was running up the stairs on all fours and he slipped and just kind of gave up

can’t wait to tell my brother that his picture has 50 notes

theatre-tech:

He even has the math to back it up.

deductivereasonable:

h34rken:

put a fucking bag on your head and sleep you god damn piece of shit

take a nap on a fucking ski lift

ferblatin:

me trying to be romantic

deathby-chanel:

deckthebunkers:

do you find it weird that you’ve known your parents for your entire life but they’ve only known you for a portion of theirs

This fucked me up

owldude:

*sees moon*
*remembers outer space*
nice

radvillain:

ghost: *haunts my house*

me: chill

ghost: aight

radsturbate:

marry someone who has a different favorite cereal than u so they wont eat all of urs

sadsk8r:

doctors: why are all your bones broken
me: totally gnarly kick flip
doctors: fucking savage bro

Till’ 3005 (at Mission Park)

She was beautiful, but not like those girls in the magazines. She was beautiful, for the way she thought. She was beautiful, for the sparkle in her eyes when she talked about something she loved. She was beautiful, for her ability to make other people smile, even if she was sad. No, she wasn’t beautiful for something as temporary as her looks. She was beautiful, deep down to her soul.
F. Scott Fitzgerald (via onlinecounsellingcollege) ←

I think I’d miss you even if we’d never met.
The Wedding Date (via timid) ←