deviatesinc:

lush-retina:

OH. WOW. OK.

HI.

Good morning, Mistress …

deviatesinc:

lush-retina:

OH. WOW. OK.

HI.

Good morning, Mistress …

(Source: lapitiedangereuse, via scheherezadeshirking)

Sunday Six

He leaves Rust sprawled out in the creaky plastic chair, with his cigarettes and his Whitman poetry and his glass of green tea (“Why the fuck d’you drink this swill, man, it tastes like dishwater”). Two hours and a pile of sorted client files later, he comes back out, mildly worried about the silence. He finds Rust snoring hoarsely, head tipped back against the headrest. The glass of tea stands next to one of the chair’s legs, untouched. The open book lies in Rust’s lap, the pages fluttering weakly in the breeze.

Whatever he hears from Rust during the night, it’s never snoring. 

(with great beasts turned to dust as often as not, True Detective fic)

liltale-calo-a-lomino:

Remus Lupin and marauders

Based on the book “Harry Potter” (J.K.Rowling) 

© Liltale calo a lomino | vk.com/lilta

(via linpatootie)

dailynietzsche:

“The vanity of others offends our taste only when it offends our vanity.”

—F. Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil, §176.

saxifraga-x-urbium:

nothingbutthedreams:

I just remembered that my ex recently unironically used the word sheeple on Facebook and I haven’t ever been happier that our ‘relationship’ was so short.

omfg

how do you unironically use sheeple??

i’m a bisexual woman and the type of my relationships is none

"I waited patiently - years - for the pendulum to swing the other way, for men to start reading Jane Austen, learn how to knit, pretend to love cosmos, organize scrapbook parties, and make out with each other while we leer. And then we’d say, Yeah, he’s a Cool Guy."

— Gillian Flynn, Gone Girl (via sdreyfus)

(Source: mrgolightly, via saxifraga-x-urbium)

"People aren’t either wicked or noble. They’re like chef’s salads, with good things and bad things chopped and mixed together in a vinaigrette of confusion and conflict."

— Lemony Snicket (via maxkirin)

(via gamarucher)

I’m not gonna say red lipstick cures all ills, but it certainly makes you feel like the ills are doomed as soon as you look at them. 

I’m not gonna say red lipstick cures all ills, but it certainly makes you feel like the ills are doomed as soon as you look at them. 

"I’ve never forgotten him. Dare I say I miss him? I do. I miss him. I still see him in my dreams. They are nightmares mostly, but nightmares tinged with love. Such is the strangeness of the human heart. I still cannot understand how he could abandon me so unceremoniously, without any sort of goodbye, without looking back even once. The pain is like an axe that chops my heart."

The Life of Pi, Yann Martel (via alighthouseofwords)