空気のような。
tell me the story about how the sun loved the moon so much he died every night to let her breathe. +
mona, fifteen. (+)
Seeing your bias talk about his ideal type feels like a personal test you keep failing.
me at school
- me: the fuck is this
- me: who the fuck are you
- me: dayum pull yo skirt down please
- me: walk faster fuckface
- me: fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you
- me: no you're a whore
- me: dont touch me i have more followers than you
- me: i wonder what would happen if a guy with a gun came in right now
- me: pew pew nigga
- me: i'd push you in front of me whore