(Source: utnereader, via recharges)

mymodernmet:

Lifestyle photographer Grace Chon recently turned the camera on her 10-month-old baby Jasper and their 7-year-old rescue dog Zoey, putting them side-by-side in the some of the most adorable portraits ever.

(via madeofpuredestruction)

Timestamp: 1397598075

mymodernmet:

Lifestyle photographer Grace Chon recently turned the camera on her 10-month-old baby Jasper and their 7-year-old rescue dog Zoey, putting them side-by-side in the some of the most adorable portraits ever.

(via madeofpuredestruction)

2,163 plays
  • Trackname:

    Bed (Official Trey Songz Remix)
  • Artist:

    J Holiday & Trey Songz

(Source: st4ysane, via lovurs)

"You’re a fighter. I can see it in all your mannerisms: the way you walk, talk, hold yourself, and look at people. You know that you are made from the passion of a moment and that you have the stars in your blood. Everything about you screams “I have been broken and I have overcome.” You want people to test you. You want people to feel inferior when they look at you. You have scars on your skin and on your soul and you wear them proudly. You know that the only person who is allowed to break you is yourself and you will never let that happen again. But despite all of this you crave love. You want someone who makes you feel soft and like you don’t have to have it all figured out. You want someone who sees the scars on your skin and doesn’t run from them, or even just accept them, but wonders how they got there and what finally made you realize that spilling the stars from your skin won’t heal the wounds in your heart. Your walls are higher than even the tallest waves of the ocean that swims behind your eyes when you’re at your weakest. No one has ever had the courage to walk up to you and look you in the eyes and say that you aren’t just pretty because someone like you can’t be confined to society’s standards of pretty. You are so much more than that lousy word. You have the power of a goddess in your heart and the grace of a pianist in your soul. You are a fighter; but that doesn’t mean you can’t be a lover. That doesn’t mean that you don’t deserve to have mountains moved for you. That doesn’t mean that everyone you touch has to crumble because they can’t handle the power that courses through your veins. I know you can’t belong to me because the only person who you belong to is yourself and you’ve worked to hard to have that taken from you. You are not mine, you are yours and everything in you is fighting to keep it that way. But I do not wish to own you, just to simply give you a place to go when you’re tired at the end of the day and no longer wish you were a fighter."

It’s 5:09pm and you’re asleep on my chest and I love you (via writing-the-difference)

(via kasskay1245)

femmewolfprince:

asapscience:

The Midnight Planétarium watch not only tells time, but follows the orbit of our solar system’s planets. 

Im crying

(via diva-cunt)

Timestamp: 1396799900

femmewolfprince:

asapscience:

The Midnight Planétarium watch not only tells time, but follows the orbit of our solar system’s planets. 

Im crying

(via diva-cunt)

"You know that place between sleep and awake, that place where you still remember dreaming? That’s where I will always love you. That’s where I will be waiting."

(Source: tenmytruelove, via diva-cunt)

Timestamp: 1396799587

"You know that place between sleep and awake, that place where you still remember dreaming? That’s where I will always love you. That’s where I will be waiting."

(Source: tenmytruelove, via diva-cunt)

thisiscasey7:

forgott-en:

nedhepburn:

This one time I painted a living room with a girl.

This was a handful of years back. It was about eight months before the huge, flame-out of a breakup. That day, though? That day we painted the living room? It was pretty uneventful. We painted my parents living room for $50 between us and a pizza. That was it. I think we watched Anchorman or something after that.

But it still holds as on of the most indelible memories I have. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not still in love, it happened, it was good, it ended, and we’ve both moved on. But I’ll never forget that day. Because it’s never, in the long run, about the grand gestures. You can fly across the world and show up on her doorstep with a rose in your teeth and a ring in a little velvet box but I can guarantee you that - more often than not - she’s going to remember the time you built the birdhouse in the back yard, or what have you, a whole lot more.

Life wasn’t meant to be taken in large movements. The next day will inevitably arrive, you’ll sleep, and the moment will have passed. But when you have a hundred thousand small moments, you can step back and appreciate the picture a lot more than metaphorically blowing your load on some grand moment that, in all honesty, look, you’re not Bruce Fucking Springsteen, you’re not going to be able to blow everyone’s mind every single night. You’re not Romeo and/or Juliet. There’s no reason to drink the poison together in some flame-out gesture. So that leaves us with the small stuff. It’s all about the detail.

That’s what love is. Attention to detail.

And the moment will end. And then things will get boring. And it might get a little quiet. And it might all end horribly. And you might hate eachother at the end. And you might walk away from eachother one day and never speak again. But that’s just how it goes.

But she’ll remember the time you held the door open for her on your first date.
She’ll remember the time you laughed at her impression of the landlady.
She’ll remember the time you stayed up all night that first time.
She’ll remember the small things a lot longer than the big ones.

But everything ends. And I’ll tell you why you have to make the small things, the small moments count so much more:

One day, probably a while longer from now, when old age takes ahold of someone, she might just only remember your smile. Everything you ever did together, every second, every moment, every beat, every morning spent in bed, every evening spent together on the sofa, all of that - gone. Everything you ever did will be reduced to the head of a pin. She won’t remember your name. She’ll just remember your smile, and she’ll smile. She won’t know why. It’s a base, gut reaction. But she’ll smile, uncontrollably, and it will come from somewhere so deep as to know that you touched her on a primal, honest, and true level that no scientist, scholar, or savant could ever begin to explain. There is no more. There is nothing else. There is just this: She’ll remember your smile, and she’ll smile.

And you know what? That’s all that really matters in the end.

I just cried at this

(via diva-cunt)

Timestamp: 1396799434

thisiscasey7:

forgott-en:

nedhepburn:

This one time I painted a living room with a girl.

This was a handful of years back. It was about eight months before the huge, flame-out of a breakup. That day, though? That day we painted the living room? It was pretty uneventful. We painted my parents living room for $50 between us and a pizza. That was it. I think we watched Anchorman or something after that.

But it still holds as on of the most indelible memories I have. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not still in love, it happened, it was good, it ended, and we’ve both moved on. But I’ll never forget that day. Because it’s never, in the long run, about the grand gestures. You can fly across the world and show up on her doorstep with a rose in your teeth and a ring in a little velvet box but I can guarantee you that - more often than not - she’s going to remember the time you built the birdhouse in the back yard, or what have you, a whole lot more.

Life wasn’t meant to be taken in large movements. The next day will inevitably arrive, you’ll sleep, and the moment will have passed. But when you have a hundred thousand small moments, you can step back and appreciate the picture a lot more than metaphorically blowing your load on some grand moment that, in all honesty, look, you’re not Bruce Fucking Springsteen, you’re not going to be able to blow everyone’s mind every single night. You’re not Romeo and/or Juliet. There’s no reason to drink the poison together in some flame-out gesture. So that leaves us with the small stuff. It’s all about the detail.

That’s what love is. Attention to detail.

And the moment will end. And then things will get boring. And it might get a little quiet. And it might all end horribly. And you might hate eachother at the end. And you might walk away from eachother one day and never speak again. But that’s just how it goes.

But she’ll remember the time you held the door open for her on your first date.
She’ll remember the time you laughed at her impression of the landlady.
She’ll remember the time you stayed up all night that first time.
She’ll remember the small things a lot longer than the big ones.

But everything ends. And I’ll tell you why you have to make the small things, the small moments count so much more:

One day, probably a while longer from now, when old age takes ahold of someone, she might just only remember your smile. Everything you ever did together, every second, every moment, every beat, every morning spent in bed, every evening spent together on the sofa, all of that - gone. Everything you ever did will be reduced to the head of a pin. She won’t remember your name. She’ll just remember your smile, and she’ll smile. She won’t know why. It’s a base, gut reaction. But she’ll smile, uncontrollably, and it will come from somewhere so deep as to know that you touched her on a primal, honest, and true level that no scientist, scholar, or savant could ever begin to explain. There is no more. There is nothing else. There is just this: She’ll remember your smile, and she’ll smile.

And you know what? That’s all that really matters in the end.

I just cried at this

(via diva-cunt)

yeahsono:

that’s a better lesson than what my mom gave me. when my period came she said ‘maybe you’re dying’. she still thinks it funny

(Source: ilikeubuturcrazy, via emilynicole0)

Timestamp: 1396799193

yeahsono:

that’s a better lesson than what my mom gave me. when my period came she said ‘maybe you’re dying’. she still thinks it funny

(Source: ilikeubuturcrazy, via emilynicole0)

(Source: meeresstille, via eblo)