Erik Johansen’s pictures are worth more than a thousand words. The German born, Swedish based photographer enjoys nothing more than manipulating the mind with his tantalizing visual imagery. His vivid imagination and surreal forms create brilliant pictures of surreal moments, all with a hint of the believable. Originally a computer engineering student, Johansson currently works on personal projects as well as commissioned ones.
#omg their reactions tho i mean krum is like fuck yeah and fleur is all yeah bitches who else but me!?! and then there’s cedric who’s like well duh i’m pretty and then harry is like fuck why is it always me
#fuck #just one year #can I just have one year of peace
♕ Doctor Who Meme: Two Quotes (1/2)
↳ The way I see it, every life is a pile of good things and bad things. The good things don’t necessarily soften the bad, but vice-versa, the bad things don’t necessarily spoil the good things and make them unimportant.
I say, ‘I am fat.’
He says ‘No, you are beautiful.’
I wonder why I cannot be both.
He kisses me
My college theater professor once told me
that despite my talent,
I would never be cast as a romantic lead.
We do plays that involve singing animals
and children with the ability to fly,
but apparently no one
has enough willing suspension of disbelief
to go with anyone loving a fat girl.
I daydream regularly
about fucking my boyfriend vigorously on his front lawn.
On the mornings I do not feel pretty,
while he is still asleep,
I sit on the floor and check the pockets of his skinny jeans for motive,
for a punchline,
for other girls’ phone numbers.
When we hold hands in public,
I wonder if he notices the looks —
like he is handling a parade balloon on a crowded sidewalk;
if he notices that my hands are now made of rope.
Dear Cosmo: Fuck you.
I will not take sex tips from you
on how to please a man you think I do not deserve.
He tells me he loves me with the lights on.
I can cup his hip bone in my hand,
feel his ribs without pressing very hard at all.
He does not believe me when I tell him he is beautiful.
Sometimes I fear the day he does will be the day he leaves.
The cute hipster girl at the coffee shop
assumes we are just friends
and flirts over the counter.
I spend the next two weeks
mentally replacing myself with her
in all of our photographs.
When I admit this to him
we spend the evening taking new photos together.
He will not let me delete a single one of them.
The phrase “Big girls need love too” can die in a fire.
Fucking me does not require an asterisk.
Loving me is not a fetish.
Finding me beautiful is not a novelty.
I am not a fucking novelty.
I say, ‘I am fat.’
He says, ‘No. You are so much more’,
and kisses me
“I don’t know about you, but I intend on writing a strongly worded letter to the White Star Line about all of this. You’re gonna go on, and make lots of babies, and watch them grow. You’re gonna die an old lady, warm in her bed. Not here, not this night. Do you understand me? Winning that ticket, Rose, was the best thing that ever happened to me… it brought me to you. And I’m thankful for that, Rose. I’m thankful. You must do me this honor, Rose. Promise me you’ll survive. That you won’t give up, no matter what happens, no matter how hopeless. Promise me now, Rose, and never let go of that promise.”
oh my gOD HE’S WEARING THE OUTFIT??????
HOW DID I MISS THAT?!
((HE WAS HER DREAM BOY ALL ALONG
I missed that the first time and about kicked myself.
I MISSED THIS THE FIRST 500 TIMES.