Words, Words, Words

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My name is Kelsey and I like to party.
I'm a student, actress, and trainwreck. Follow me on my adventure through the world of television and neverending sexual frustration.


Things you can expect to see on this blog:

I also run FuckYeahAndySamberg. What?


the main thing i look forward to in life is raising dogs w/ someone i love

(via zackisontumblr)

11 hours ago
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we all have a favorite eyebrow

(Source: fzur, via thefuuuucomics)

6 days ago
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wow The Onion is dropping a lot of truth for a work of satire


wow The Onion is dropping a lot of truth for a work of satire

(Source: labryth, via myloish)

1 week ago
43,431 notes
Love should never have to be second guessed. It should be full of stay safe texts and calls, it should be laughing at each others jokes even when they mess up the punch line or do not make any sense, it should be singing off key and dancing in the shower, it should be yelling at one another when they do something that might be dangerous, it should be Midnight laughing and morning kisses, it should be arguing one minute and holding hands the next minute, it should be knowing each others quirks and habits inside and out, it should be full of compromises and always listening, it should be watching each others shows together even if one of you absolutely hate that show, it should be going to a chick flick or an action movie, it should be flirting one minute and talking about the economy the next minute. It shouldn’t be perfect. Love is very far from perfect. But you should never feel broken or worthless or wondering if you are loved in a relationship. When it’s real, oh god, it’s real.
I could write a thousand poems about him and it still wouldn’t explain how his laughter could move mountains.
Tina Tran, I will never get used to you (via absentions)

(via thingssheloves)

2 days ago
1,550 notes


Excellent writing reference for all my writer friends ;]

(Source: belleresources, via tired-andtried)

1 week ago
439,936 notes

You’re standing against a wall, holding onto a girl whose knees you’ve shot without touching. Holding, but not in the way you’ve ever known it. Hold like you’re drowning, hold like you’re buried, hold until your arms are trembling from the strength of it. She’s elastic against you, she’s all wilting and drooping and long long lashes hiding eyes painted black from wanting. She won’t look at you because she doesn’t know how to without spilling desire.

You’re both talking a language that neither of you can understand. But it sounds like ‘please’ or it sounds like ‘touch me everywhere.’ But this is more than your fingers or your mouth. This is the five seconds that it takes to peel her self-conscious away from her body. This is the five minutes of holding her hips between your hands and pressing your fingers into the stretch marks there and saying ‘you’re so fucking beautiful.’ This is really meaning it. This is thanking God for your hands and their ability to feel. You think maybe the dip of her sternum is forgiveness. This is how the soft of her against you makes your breath ragged. This is your chest heaving and sweat on your upper lip. The way you’ve forgotten the first name of every girl you’ve ever touched. The way her hair feels between your knuckles when you yank it. The noise she makes.

This is the hour that it takes for her to believe that you want her, skin and all. And when she believes you, you’ll know. Her defences will fall off her like water. She’ll shrug the sweater off her shoulders and that strip of bare skin will drive you so crazy that you’ll think about it for weeks later and it’ll make you hard again. You’ll text her saying that you’re thinking about her and your colleagues will ask why the freckles on your cheeks have connected to turn you bright red and you’ll mumble something about the sun. It’s not the sun. It’s the way she fell apart when you bit her neck and moaned honey into her throat. You’ll both be so brimming the ocean will rise jealous to see you. You’ll meet a girl and she’ll trust you and it will feel like undressing with all your clothes still on. It’ll feel like the raw of a wound and the relief of healing. She’ll put her throat in your open hands and close her eyes. This is what trust looks like.

Dip your fingers into her swollen mouth. Lean closer, breathe the words, you’ll fill her like this: ‘you are so beautiful and I’m going to put my hands everywhere.’

Rough sex is the manifestation of romance. You trust someone so much that you let them do whatever they want with one thing that is yours.
An Unknown Genius - via realivt (via perfect)

(via candywater)

1 week ago
230,115 notes

Shut the fuck up Finn. That was stupid.


Shut the fuck up Finn. That was stupid.

2 weeks ago
17 notes