butttom:

niall disappointed the squad by not nominating zayn for the ice bucket challenge

(via miraguey)

odins-one-eyed-fuck:

jawnthetimelord:

onlyarandomwhovian:

tsarbucks:

phdix:

phdix:

hey kids, wanna hear a spooky story?

the college application process

financial aid offices

COMMON APP ERRORS

TAXES

A D U L T H O O D

[SCREAMING]

(Source: whackdonalds, via emmajxnes)

A tongue has no bones but it can break a heart.

Ed Sheeran (via augustarswaters)

(Source: kryb17, via emmajxnes)

(Source: hotdominicanmom, via vvendys)

x

(Source: mr-styles, via 2chaines)

beautiful

beautiful

(via pride)

blushetc:



A white man carries a black girl on his shoulders during a march with Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Alabama, ca. 1965.

This has to be one of my favorite things ever

blushetc:

A white man carries a black girl on his shoulders during a march with Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Alabama, ca. 1965.

This has to be one of my favorite things ever

(Source: blackgirlwhiteboylove, via realjackson5)

izzetheking:

How is sponge bob a sponge if everyone in his family are chocolate chip cookies

(via fake-mermaid)

eluciidate:

this is how I would doctor

(Source: sandandglass, via pizza)

Anonymous said: can you please write about any of the boys helping you when you can't fall asleep?

gagmeniall:

Sometimes, at night, you would fall into a silence that wasn’t sleep-related at all. It was more of a time for reflection, a time to think back on the past couple of days and ask yourself questions. Sometimes those thoughts would keep you up at night, tossing and turning and rustling in the sheets and nearly driving Zayn mad to the point where he would have to roll onto his stomach and slide an arm out towards you, letting you tuck yourself beneath it. 

"You want back rubs, love?" he’d ask in a soft voice, still thick with sleep and the words heavy on his tongue. "Come ‘ere." He’d draw you nearer and rest his face into the curve of your neck, nuzzling into your warm skin. "What’s got you awake tonight, babe?" 

As his fingers started to drift up and down the length of your spine, you’d melt into his touch and maybe whisper a few words here and there about what you were thinking about or what was bothering you or why you couldn’t just fucking sleep and sometimes it would drive you to frustration or angry tears prickling at the back of your eyes and he would have to start playing with your hair. 

"Shh," he would sometimes murmur, hands rubbing a little more forcefully into your back, trying to drive out the knots and tension built up there. "Don’t worry, don’t worry, don’t worry," and those would be the words that had you slipping farther into his embrace with his arms blocking out all the questions that demanded answers and he promised that you could figure it all out the next morning when you were well-rested and waking up in his arms.