o.O

c-bassmeow:

c-bassmeow:

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it may take time but there is someone waiting to hold your hand

My tears

i needed this 

I actually teared up 

(Source: sigi0, via draspell)

justfandomwritings:

castielismycherrypie:

dubsexplicit:

wet—kitty:

no one will ever understand the deep fucking connection I have with this film

For real though

Ok guys I need to talk about this movie.

The Breakfast Club came out in 1985 and to this day is, in my opinion, one of the greatest damn movies ever to barely even have a script.

During the famous “dance” scene, Molly Ringwald, who played the “princess” Claire, was supposed to a small little dance by herself, but she was shy so all of them did some dancing together, creating one of the most famous film scene’s to date. It was improvised.

During the scene in the film where the characters sat down and told why they were there, there was NO SCRIPT. John Hughes told the cast to sit there and improvise why they thought their characters were there, creating that heart wrenching scene everyone could relate to.

EVERYONE can relate to this movie and thats the best damn thing. 

On March 24, 1984, five students entered a detention room thinking it was just another Saturday. Before the day was over, they broke the rules, bared their souls, and touched each other in a way they never dreamed possible.

EVERYONE IN THE WORLD NEEDS TO SEE THE BREAKFAST CLUB.

This movie is life. not even joking.

(Source: david-own-world, via kittenwantscream)

dirtystorytime:

I’d try to be good. Honestly, I would.
I’d start just sitting behind you, and running a cloth or some soap up and down your arms. I’d wash your hair as you leaned forward and let me scoop handfuls of water to rinse the soap clean. It would all seem innocent enough. But when it comes to you, I am not innocent. My mind races. I can’t help but be aroused.
I’d make a concerted effort to keep my hands to myself. But with the guise of cleanliness, my hands would linger on your arms and back. It would trace down your side, and rest on your thigh. Would that be bad? I’d whisper, “I’m sorry,” in your ear. 
I’d be lying. And again my hand would wander across your thigh pushing between your legs, which were opened, subtly. Again I’d whisper, “oops. It was an accident.”
But it wasn’t. I wouldn’t remove my hand. Instead it would rest on you. Slightly moving, “I’m sorry about that..” again I’d perpetuate the fallacy of my words. My lips would beg forgiveness, but my hand would grow bolder, and my finger would soon slide down between your folds of your lips.
Your body softens, and leans back into my chest. Your head rolls to the side and my mouth leans in to kiss. My finger pulls back, upwards and grazes your clitoris. Are you sensitive? I’d nibble my way up your neck, “my apologies,” I’d say, “forgive me?”
My finger twists a circle around your clit as I lick your earlobe. And further down between your lips again and my finger enters you. I push a single finger inside.
"I didn’t mean that," I’d whisper as I worked that finger in and out. "How are you doing? Enjoying your bath?"
"Mmmhmmm," you’d moan in my ear.
My teeth graze your neck. I suck on your earlobe as my other hand reaches around your stomach, pulling you back into me. You can feel my arousal throbbing on your back.
My fingers extract, my hips press forward. My hands scoop under your legs. I want to be inside you. I need to be in you. I lift your legs up and lift you atop me. Your hand falls down to guide me inside you.
I can feel the squeeze of your pussy on my cock as I lower you onto me. Slowly, gently, entering you. 
Your head turns back towards mine and our mouths meet, your arm twists behind my head and pulls me to you. Your mouth opens to moan as I stretch you. Filling you. You are so fucking tight on my cock. Your hips gyrate in a circle as I continue to lower you onto me slowly. Almost all the way in, I thrust upwards. Filling you completely, and we both gasp and exhale a pleasured sigh.
"FUCK. I’m sorry, accident," I whisper as I enter you.
Your hips lift as your ass tightens, squeezing me as you push yourself up and down on me. Fucking my cock from above, controlling the flow. Moaning every time as you descend onto me. 
My hand reaches around, teasing your clit with my fingers. Twisting and trying to make you cum.. and cum..
Again I slide my hands under your knees and pull them closed against you. Your tightness intensifies against me. I lift you to the brink of sliding off and thrust into you. Lifting and letting you fall, in you, and back out.
The bathwater splashing from our thrashing, spilling from the tub. We both moan. Gasp. Cumming. Cumming together. My hips give a final thrust as I erupt inside you. My cock twitching and filling you with my cum. 
I gently lean back and allow you to unravel. Our bodies apart. You twist, turning to me. We embrace and kiss. 
"I tried to be good. I swear."

dirtystorytime:

I’d try to be good. Honestly, I would.

I’d start just sitting behind you, and running a cloth or some soap up and down your arms. I’d wash your hair as you leaned forward and let me scoop handfuls of water to rinse the soap clean. It would all seem innocent enough. But when it comes to you, I am not innocent. My mind races. I can’t help but be aroused.

I’d make a concerted effort to keep my hands to myself. But with the guise of cleanliness, my hands would linger on your arms and back. It would trace down your side, and rest on your thigh. Would that be bad? I’d whisper, “I’m sorry,” in your ear. 

I’d be lying. And again my hand would wander across your thigh pushing between your legs, which were opened, subtly. Again I’d whisper, “oops. It was an accident.”

But it wasn’t. I wouldn’t remove my hand. Instead it would rest on you. Slightly moving, “I’m sorry about that..” again I’d perpetuate the fallacy of my words. My lips would beg forgiveness, but my hand would grow bolder, and my finger would soon slide down between your folds of your lips.

Your body softens, and leans back into my chest. Your head rolls to the side and my mouth leans in to kiss. My finger pulls back, upwards and grazes your clitoris. Are you sensitive? I’d nibble my way up your neck, “my apologies,” I’d say, “forgive me?”

My finger twists a circle around your clit as I lick your earlobe. And further down between your lips again and my finger enters you. I push a single finger inside.

"I didn’t mean that," I’d whisper as I worked that finger in and out. "How are you doing? Enjoying your bath?"

"Mmmhmmm," you’d moan in my ear.

My teeth graze your neck. I suck on your earlobe as my other hand reaches around your stomach, pulling you back into me. You can feel my arousal throbbing on your back.

My fingers extract, my hips press forward. My hands scoop under your legs. I want to be inside you. I need to be in you. I lift your legs up and lift you atop me. Your hand falls down to guide me inside you.

I can feel the squeeze of your pussy on my cock as I lower you onto me. Slowly, gently, entering you. 

Your head turns back towards mine and our mouths meet, your arm twists behind my head and pulls me to you. Your mouth opens to moan as I stretch you. Filling you. You are so fucking tight on my cock. Your hips gyrate in a circle as I continue to lower you onto me slowly. Almost all the way in, I thrust upwards. Filling you completely, and we both gasp and exhale a pleasured sigh.

"FUCK. I’m sorry, accident," I whisper as I enter you.

Your hips lift as your ass tightens, squeezing me as you push yourself up and down on me. Fucking my cock from above, controlling the flow. Moaning every time as you descend onto me. 

My hand reaches around, teasing your clit with my fingers. Twisting and trying to make you cum.. and cum..

Again I slide my hands under your knees and pull them closed against you. Your tightness intensifies against me. I lift you to the brink of sliding off and thrust into you. Lifting and letting you fall, in you, and back out.

The bathwater splashing from our thrashing, spilling from the tub. We both moan. Gasp. Cumming. Cumming together. My hips give a final thrust as I erupt inside you. My cock twitching and filling you with my cum. 

I gently lean back and allow you to unravel. Our bodies apart. You twist, turning to me. We embrace and kiss. 

"I tried to be good. I swear."

(Source: the-glorious-book-of-love, via dirtystorytime)

mattharv666:

skankmcmeow:

I see your shifting gaze, that disgusted glance. I know you’re questioning my parenting from across the elementary school assembly.

Let me tell you a little story about the kindergarten student with bright purple hair, my little Raven Marie…

A month before school started she decided to play hair stylist with the craft scissors, and to save what was left I had to opt for a pixie cut. She was absolutely devastated. It was about three hours before she stopped her harsh sobbing and hiccups.

Why?

She has thought that the length of a girls hair was what made her “girly”. I know I’ve personally had many hairstyles around her before, including a purple mohawk, which many people criticized as not being “girly” enough. Media, other children, other parents, and society made it worse. She would randomly burst in tears while out in public for the first week of her new style, screaming that she looked like a boy. That everyone would think she’s a boy.

At one point she took off her bow in her hair, threw it at a cashier and screamed, “I DON’T NEED THIS BOW TO TELL YOU THAT I’M NOT A BOY, BECAUSE I’M NOT”

Proudly stomping away in her blue jean overalls, head held high.

Once we edged closer to the first day of school she kept asking questions like, “Do you think the other kids will like me? Do you think they’ll be my friend? Will they think I’m a boy? Will they pick on me because I have boy hair?”

So I went to the grocery store, bought some dye, and spent the whole night transforming my bright blonde little girl into a plum punk rock fairy. I then assured her that if any of the kids didn’t like her, they were just jealous.

As for you, mothers and teachers with the wandering eyes filled with disgust and judgement, I’m in the business of raising a free spirit.

Here’s to you, Raven Marie. I love you.

Look at how fucking adorable that kid is holy fucking shit

❤️ this

People shouldn’t judge how you raise your child if they’re happy, healthy and unharmed do as you want. I personally love the color and if my lil girl asked. I’d do hers without question.

(via littleprincette)