baggins in the streets but a took in the sheets

oh yes!

(via caralarm-bicycles)

I have love in me the likes of which you can scarcely imagine and rage the likes of which you would not believe. If I cannot satisfy the one, I will indulge the other.

Mary Shelley, Frankenstein. (via riverran)

#mary shelley #this quote though #it’s all kinds of wonderful #hey remember that time one asswipe was like you have 30 seconds to name something invented by a woman… #…and Mary was like SCIENCE FICTION MOTHERFUCKERS #that was awesome #thanks Mary Shelley (via snappily)

And the next time someone starts claiming that teenage girls have ruined the horror genre with romance or whatever you can be like, hey dicksmack, teenage girls and romance built your genre so sit the fuck down.

(via sharpestrose)

compulsive auto reblog

i want this tattooed on me at some point

(via nova-bright)

Mary Shelley fucking invented your favourite genre motherfuckers. You owe her Kirk and Vader and every goddamned Joss has ever done that’s made you cream your pants. Created when she was a teenager cause, hey, that’s how she rolled. She took love and showed it as the powerful, terrifying, all-encompassing, ruthless, wrathful thing it is. 

(via piinboots)

MY QUEEN

(via bigfatfeminist)

*

And I would like to add:

image

(via irisbleufic)

(via caralarm-bicycles)

Just because two people are capable of deeply hurting each other over and over again does not make them passionate, star-crossed lovers. It makes them two people who keep doing terrible things to each other. Someone’s ability to make you completely and utterly soul-crushingly miserable does not mean they are a soul mate with some deep insight into your psyche. They are just someone who is really good at making you unhappy.

Andrea Greb, You Are Not Blair Waldorf (via a-lionsheart)

Hey look, it’s a true thing.

(via jwisser)

too real

(via caralarm-bicycles)

Ayn Rand is one of those things that a lot of us, when we were 17 or 18 and feeling misunderstood, we’d pick up. Then, as we get older, we realize that a world in which we’re only thinking about
ourselves… that’s a pretty narrow vision.
President Barack Obama on Paul Ryan’s obsession with the works of Ayn Rand (via buzzfeed)

(via blackwhiteandjewish)

I want you to tell me about every person you’ve ever been in love with. Tell me why you loved them, then tell me why they loved you. Tell me about a day in your life you didn’t think you’d live through. Tell me what the word “home” means to you and tell me in a way that I’ll know your mother’s name just by the way you describe your bed room when you were 8. See, I wanna know the first time you felt the weight of hate and if that day still trembles beneath your bones. Do you prefer to play in puddles of rain or bounce in the bellies of snow? And if you were to build a snowman, would you rip two branches from a tree to build your snowman arms? Or would you leave the snowman armless for the sake of being harmless to the tree? And if you would, would you notice how that tree weeps for you because your snowman has no arms to hug you every time you kiss him on the cheek? Do you kiss your friends on the cheek? Do you sleep beside them when they’re sad, even if it makes your lover mad? Do you think that anger is a sincere emotion or just the timid motion of a fragile heart trying to beat away its pain? See, I wanna know what you think of your first name. And if you often lie awake at night and imagine your mother’s joy when she spoke it for the very first time. I want you tell me all the ways you’ve been unkind. Tell me all the ways you’ve been cruel. See, I wanna know more than what you do for a living. I wanna know how much of your life you spend just giving. And if you love yourself enough to also receive sometimes. I wanna know if you bleed sometimes through other people’s wounds. — Andrea Gibson  (via intricateambiguity)

(via ashes-to-alainn)

Be with someone who is proud to have you.

(via nextsignal)

The forests are very old. The forests are older than man. They have seen the gods die. And man is naked in a forest of dust, dry leaves and roads covered with leaves and dust. — Paul Celan (via cosmofilius)

(via ashes-to-alainn)

Such overblown rhetoric disguises the operation of a double standard in contemporary society. On the one hand, the consumption of alcohol is viewed as making women MORE responsible for their own rape: by choosing to get drunk, women are deliberately increasing their risk and should be prepared to face the consequences. On the other hand, male consumption of alcohol is viewed as making them LESS responsible for their actions; by choosing to get drunk, men increase the chance of inappropriate behaviour and should not therefore be required to pay the price for their actions. — Joanna Bourke- Rape: Sex Violence History (via prince-jake)

(via moobleu-deactivated20131226)