“I want you.
Your lips on mine.
Your hands around my waist.
My lips on your neck.
My hands running through your hair.
I want you.
In my bed.
Right next to me.
Holding me tight.
Talking about anything.
Gentle kisses in between thoughts.
Our tired eyes holding contact.
Slowly falling asleep.”—(via makelvenotwar)
I really hate my sister’s parenting style. “Let him do whatever he wants but when I tell him no for once he throws a temper tantrum so just ignore him till he calms down and give him what he wanted in the first place.” Like are you fucking serious? It’s getting worse every week, I see it happening before my eyes. He’s going to be starting school soon and it’s going to be a problem. Fucking discipline your kid, jesus fucking christ. Maybe he wouldn’t be such a fucking monster all the time.
"The artist isn’t just the creator of style but also its bearer, and the artist’s very presence is a work of art in person, creation on the wing by means of a turn of phrase, a gesture, a way of dressing, the aura of charismatic influence." Richard Brody - The New Yorker
“I’m drunk. I’m fucking drunk. There’s kids up stairs. I love those kids. I’m so drunk. Sweet dreams. Sweet dreams. Sweet dreams.”—Peter drunk as fuck as he slowly makes his way up the stairs to his room.