i already have a job and it's called keeping myself alive. why do i have to be employed on top of that

“It’ll be weird seeing her again. It’ll be like revisiting a memory that you thought you’d forgotten. Her hair will be longer, or shorter, her hair will have changed; hair always does. Her eyes will be the same. Hearing her voice will be like going back to the place you used to live and noticing the new curtains. Being close to her will be strange. She’ll say something like, “you look well,” and you’ll reply with a, “thanks, you too.” And it’ll feel like death, like an iron fist around your heart. And then she’ll point to your shirt and say, “is that new?” and you won’t have the heart to say you bought it seven months ago after she left, so instead you say, “I haven’t worn it around you before.” When she emits a small laugh you’ll feel the tiniest ounce of pride. She still finds you funny. When she’s telling you about her new life you’ll find your mind wandering into places you didn’t think mattered anymore. Places like, was she in love now and was she being treated well? Places like, did she ever miss you, and in and amongst all of her living did she ever consider coming back?”

— Sue Zhao 

“They were like two magnets who couldn’t decide whether to attract or repel.”

— Jay Asher, The Future of Us (via lehanewrites)

“I shouldn’t even think of you, much less love you. And yet, every time my guard is down my thoughts seem to drift toward you. And even if I shouldn’t, I really still do love you. And what a mess I am because of it.”

— defendinglarry1 (via slytherinwritess)

“She traced his jawline as he slept, her heart fluttering as a small smile graced his lips. She felt as if she could live in that moment forever; the moment between her finger brushing his skin and the smile appearing. It was soft, and simple, but it felt like everything. In that moment, she felt beautiful. Not because she actually was, but because even while he was asleep her touch could cause a smile, and that was more than enough for her.”

— R.G. // Excerpt from a book I’ll never write #85 (via softhearted-ly)

oak family game night

I don’t care about it at all (I have carried its weight around like a rock on my chest since the very day it happened)

do u ever miss your own energy. like damn what happened to me

THE PARENT TRAP (1998) dir. Nancy Meyers

HAAANK! THAT'S NOT ART BY THE OP HANK! OP REPOSTED IT WITHOUT CREDIT! HANK!

“I found the most delicate boy, who steals looks when the thinks I don’t notice. And, oh, he’s going to ruin me. He really is. I already know it. He watches like he’s afraid to want me and I watch like I’m afraid to be wrong. I am cataloging every look, every sideways glance, every shy smile that has us both looking at our laps. My chest feels heavy. My hands are too warm to keep all to myself and I’m burning up. Like an ancient sun. And I want him. And it’s going to ruin me. I just know it.”

— mama, I think I figured out how wind makes rubble out of stone, by Ashe Vernon (via latenightcornerstore)

“omg you’re so creative. how do you get your ideas” i hallucinate a single scene in the taco bell drive thru and then spend 13 months trying to write it

it’s okay to murder people but it’s not okay to disrespect your wife btw

it’s like no one wants to fucking take their bloody hands and cup their lover’s face, making a streak of red on their cheek with their thumb before passionately kissing anymore 

“why are you tired? you haven’t done anything all day” the simple fact that i exist drains me. hope this helps