© everlark


"Have you fantasized about killing me?"


"How would you do it?"

  ·  2027  ·

"Irked fans produce fanfic like irritated oysters produce pearls."


Jacqueline Lichtenberg in Fic by Anne Jamison (via treizquatorz)

Love it.

(via marybegone)

OMG, the next fanfic gathering or workshop or blog should totally be called The Irritated Oyster.  I’m getting bunnies for the logo as I type. 

(via drinkingcocoa-tpp)

  ·  3962  ·

Click It

The perspective of every girlfriend Bucky Barnes has ever had tbh

(Source: the-cones-of-dunshire)

  ·  14095  ·

"Not all toxic people are cruel and uncaring. Some of them love us dearly. Many of them have good intentions. Most are toxic to our being simply because their needs and way of existing in the world force us to compromise ourselves and our happiness. They aren’t inherently bad people, but they aren’t the right people for us. And as hard as it is, we have to let them go. Life is hard enough without being around people who bring you down, and as much as you care, you can’t destroy yourself for the sake of someone else. You have to make your wellbeing a priority. Whether that means breaking up with someone you care about, loving a family member from a distance, letting go of a friend, or removing yourself from a situation that feels painful — you have every right to leave and create a safer space for yourself."

- Daniell Koepke (via quotationadmiration)

  ·  914  ·

  ·  19  ·


From Verillas

  ·  want  ·  15867  ·


Treasure Planet concept art.

  ·  38501  ·




The helm rested heavy in the crook of Thor’s arm, as he walked along the stone-paved street: gleaming horns sweeping up, empty cheekguards braced against his wrist. When he turned a corner, into a narrow alley filled with shuttered windows, the morning sun fell on his back, and his shadow stretched out before him. He saw the horns’ distinctive shape arching above his shoulder, as if, for a moment, Loki were still there at his side.

A muscle tensed in one cheek. He shifted his grip on the helm, so that its shadow merged with his own, and disappeared.

At the alley’s far end, a broom-wielding boy emerged from an alcoved doorway and commenced a desultory sweeping, yawning. He glanced up as Thor approached, and his eyes fell at once to the helm in Thor’s arm, jerked upward to Thor’s face, and then dropped again, nervously, as he bent the neck to his prince.

“Good morrow, lad,” Thor said.

“My lord,” the boy responded, the words muffled by stiff lips. As Thor passed him, he saw the boy’s eyes shift once more, sunlight glinting off the widening pupils as the boy  stared at the helm, could not stop staring at it, stared openly. 

Thor had taken four steps further when the boy’s voice stopped him.

“Is it true, then?”

He paused, head bowed. Then, slowly, he turned and regarded the boy’s face. The boy’s cheeks were pale with amazement at his own temerity, but he met Thor’s eyes squarely. 

“Is what true?” Thor asked. He felt the burden of the boy’s gaze, as if in this one Asgardian lad were bound up all the rumors and gossip and fear and grief that had swirled through the city for the past seven days. 

Seven days since Loki fell.

Read More

  ·  97  ·


In which Jaime required coffee in order to sit through the wedding vows. [x]


(Source: maimedlion)

  ·  82744  ·

Salva Nos

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