Inspired not Expired

Sabrina. UWF. Lesbian. Single. Handball is my game.

color my inbox

deep red - i’m in love with you.
red
 - i love you.
pink
 - i think you’re cute.
blue
 - you’re amazing.
rose - you’re pretty
purple
 - you’re hot.
plum - i would fuck you.
violet - i would date you.
aqua - i could stay on your blog for hours.
lavender
 - you are my tumblr crush.
orange - i want to get to know you.
tangerine
 - we have a lot in common.
amber
 - i wish you would notice me.
cream - i don’t talk to you but I really love your blog

(Source: mamamoe30, via unlucky-17)

d0it4theratchetz:

r0mantic-slut:

dysphorism:

ashleymater:

Tippi Benjamine Okanti Degré, daughter of French wildlife photographers Alain Degré and Sylvie Robert, was born in Namibia. During her childhood she befriended many wild animals, including a 28-year old elephant called Abu and a leopard nicknamed J&B. She was embraced by the Bushmen and the Himba tribespeople of the Kalahari, who taught her how to survive on roots and berries, as well as how to speak their language.

Learn more

What an amazing life to live

Steve Irwin’s soul is in that kid

Cady Heron, is that you?

(via do-the-gypsy)

The world is not a wish-granting factory.

(Source: hazelancester, via eyeliner-and-emilie)

6ood:

My dance style ranges from white dad at a barbecue to stripper whose rent is due tomorrow

(via wewereallthatwasleft)

On a scale of cuddles to rough sex i need everything on the fucking scale.

(Source: nocaptainmatt, via wewereallthatwasleft)

(via releasings)

(Source: n4ughty-y, via wewereallthatwasleft)

Our bodies could be skin on skin and I’d still pull you closer.

Virginia Woolf (via petitekatie)

(Source: aesthesos, via wewereallthatwasleft)

In case you ever foolishly forget; I am never not thinking of you.

Her

It’s not like kissing a man. It’s softer. More intuitive. More equal. She puts her hands on either side of my face, and the room falls away. I have never gotten so lost in a kiss before.
And then, the space between us explodes. My heart keeps missing beats and my hands cannot bring her close enough to me. I taste her and I realize I have been starving.
I have loved before, but it didn’t feel like this.
I have kissed before, but it didn’t burn me alive.
Maybe it lasts a minute, and maybe it’s an hour. All I know is that kiss, and how soft her skin is when it brushes against mine, and that, even if I did not know it until now, I have been waiting for this persons forever.

-Jodi picoult-
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