[captain america 1 & 2]
[natasha romanov]
[the avengers]
[witchy/gothy things]
[trenchcoat angel castiel]
[game of thrones]

… I don’t believe in God as a kind father in the sky. I don’t believe that the meek will inherit the earth: The meek get ignored and trampled. They decompose in the bloody soil of war, of business, of art, and they rot into the warm ground under the spring rains. It is the bold, the loud-mouthed, the cruel, the vital, the revolutionaries, the mighty in arms and will, who march over the soft patient flesh that lies beneath their cleated boots.

Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath


JK Rowling said she would have made Seamus/Dean canon but she felt it would be distracting from the main trio

Literally how much space do you need to have a line about Dean asking Seamus to the Yule ball

Look, I’ll try

"Parvati had tried to ask Dean to the ball, but he told her he was going with Seamus instead."


'10 Honest Thoughts On Being Loved By A Skinny Boy' - Rachel Wiley.


(I had to transcribe this poem, because it became an immediate favorite the second that I heard it.  I am over 70 pounds heavier than my boyfriend, and I have thought, felt and said all of these things before.  But he is perfect, and we are perfect together.)

Rachel Wiley

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

Your mother did not raise you with a wolf in your chest so you could howl over losing a man.

— read this on here today and i haven’t stopped thinking about this quote since (via pluiedem)


Remember folks, the delightful skull sugar cubes are available from Dem Bones on Etsy!

Teens Are Being Trapped in Abusive 'Drug Rehab Centers' | VICE United States


Nicki Minaj is an excellent and dynamic rapper, lyrically and stylistically, she’s topped charts in a male dominated space, she started from the absolute bottom and knows how to hustle and work her image, I don’t care whether you care for her style of music or not but if you dismiss her as a trash artist I’m gonna heavily side eye you

When you’re young, thunderstorms seem scary. Like the sky is angry at you. But now that I’m older, something about its roar soothes me; it’s comforting to know that even nature needs to scream sometimes.

— (via c0ntemplations)

Aug. 27 1:35 pm



Handmade crowns by Elemental Child.


i am always emotional about the sheer brutality lurking just under the surface of steve’s outward-innocence. like, this is a man who cares deeply, and loves, and will protect what is good with life and limb, but is also chock full of fight and will not hesitate one single second to burn everything to the ground if you leave him no other choice. this is a man who learned the hard way to finish what he starts because if you start running, they’ll never let you stop, and i just


girls fighting evil: the bat queen

(she calls upon bats, and they call upon her.)


the police in ferguson are gonna drag this out as long as possible because they’re smart enough to know that the longer it drags on, the less the media will cover it, the less people will care, and the less they have to be responsible for. they don’t want the conflict to end because if it ended now, there might still be some accountability demanded. they know if they can make it drag on for another week or more, that every day it continues they’re less and less likely to receive any punishment for human rights violations because public interest will continue to drop. they’re tiring out and exhausting any defiance or anger.

The Russian peasant imagined the social order among demons to be much like his own. They lived in families and were fond of smoking, drinking, and playing cards or bones. Normally devils married witches, and their weddings, often celebrated at a crossroad, were frenzied affairs; sometimes in their wild dancing they raised a column of dust to the sky. Here and there one finds the belief that it was possible to disperse such gatherings by throwing an axe or a knife at the witch. Afterwards blood would be found on the spot and a village woman might walk around with a bandaged face or hand. Some peasants in Tula Province stressed that devils did not live in lawful wedlock because they lacked priests. Snowstorms and windstorms were generally associated with the activity of devils on earth; the notion that devil children liked to play in them was widespread. In Novgorod Province it was believed that one could view the devil during a snowstorm by getting down on all fours and looking through one’s legs.

Russian Folk Belief, by Linda J. Ivanits (via gatheringbones)