thank you :)
okay these are my ”wtf is parrish” theories (click read more):
Do you ever get like super vulnerable late at night that you just want to spill your heart out and say how you feel because you’ve been holding it in for so long and you just need some ventilation and there’s just something about two in the morning that makes me lose my filter and say the things I would never have the guts to say when the sun is up.
"What’s your favorite album, or book?" "I really like Metamorphosis, I think it says a lot about the human condition and psyche." "Yeah I love Franz Kafka." "Oh no, I was talking about Hilary Duff’s debut album."
yes my body is healthy but my head is still jumbled and numbers still plague my every thought and there’s nothing i want more than to crawl back into the shell that i was
so please don’t assume that i’m ‘better’ just because now there’s padding between my bones and my skin. i’m far from it and i wish that somehow people could see my struggle
everything about this screenshot is so in character
i love that Steve retweeted it
i remember one time this dude sent me a shirtless pic with the caption “lol maybe u can save this for a rainy day ;)”
and i was like “for what? to keep me dry? because that’s what it’s doing right now”
Just Fuck Me
Don’t be afraid to hurt me.
I know you worry. Please don’t. I’m not as fragile as you think.
Don’t tug my hair. Grab it. Force me to my knees with your hands in my hair wrapped in a fist. Pull hard. Make my eyes water.
Don’t graze your teeth along my skin. Devour me. Bite down until I cry out. Then do it again.
Don’t caress my throat. I want to feel your fingers wrap tightly around it. Feel my pulse hammer into your palm. Feel the breath short in my chest and that little bit of panic set in.
Don’t nudge my knees apart. Move them like they’re yours to spread. With intention. With possession.
Don’t hold my hands. I want to feel your strong grip around my wrists. Use all your weight. Make me lie still.
I want it to still hurt tomorrow.
I want to see the bruises. The welts. The handprints.
Don’t ask me if I’m ok.
I need to let go and not think.
I need you to make me yours.
Let my body answer for me with each shudder and moan. With the pool of wetness between my thighs.
These are the things I can’t control. I don’t want to control. That’s the point.
Just fuck me.
don’t shit on people for having self confidence and being happy with their appearance like how bitter are you
This is the greatest knock knock joke in the history of all knock knocks jokes ever told, ever.
i think my favourite part of this is “can we not do this again dave” because it makes me very curious as to dave’s previous shenanigans