Dragon Says...

I once went to a concert with a friend (I don’t remember the...

Tue, 21 May 2013 13:51:18 -0400

I once went to a concert with a friend (I don’t remember the band, she dragged me along) when I was 16. They were starting a wall of death and this guy who was flirting with me decides it would be funny to pull my top down, exposing my breasts, then throw me in the middle of this wall of death right as it’s about to meet. When I stumble in the middle and hit the wall someone screamed “STOP! EXPOSED GIRL!” and I thought they were all going to oggle at me. Instead, one guy quickly helped me cover up, three more helped me to my feet, and another asked who did that. When I pointed out the guy, two of them looked at him, me, each other, then nodded and punched the guy in the face before forcing him into the wall that was about to form again.

Metal men are gentlemenly as shit.

ifyoucarryonthisway: you know if i was a young boy and my father took me into the city to see a...

Tue, 21 May 2013 13:29:05 -0400

ifyoucarryonthisway:

you know if i was a young boy and my father took me into the city to see a marching band i would actually be pretty pissed if he said son when you grow up would you be the savior of the broken the beaten and the damned like dad im trying to enjoy this parade can we talk about this later jesus christ

brobot-tt: EB: what the HECK are you even reblogging??????

Tue, 21 May 2013 13:25:50 -0400

brobot-tt:

EB: what the HECK are you even reblogging??????

twigwise: bluebellanon: jakeyelias: gabrielsbutt: toburnbrigh...

Tue, 21 May 2013 13:24:39 -0400

twigwise:

bluebellanon:

jakeyelias:

gabrielsbutt:

toburnbright:

Oh, wow. The usual version of wing tattoos where they’re folded up against the shoulder blades doesn’t appeal to me but these… oh yes.

GET ON MY BODY

still really love this.

Oh, there should be wing!fic where the tattoo changes to real wings as someone is watching …

You had always admired his tattoos. He was positively covered in them; a spade on the back of his left hand, the words “love is all we live for” across his chest, beautiful, vibrant splashes of watercolor-like skin-art almost dripping down his thighs onto bands of pink and red around his calves. They hugged him, lean and wiry as he was, and they suited him perfectly. It was like they bound his soul to his body.

But none of them seemed as real, as completely him, as his wings.

You’ll freely admit that you have a bit of a kink for tattoos, and you’ve dated more than one person with wings on their back, but none of them were as intricate or as realistic as his. Sometimes, you swear that as he walks around your apartment, bare of a shirt, the feathers ruffle. It’s almost like the dark ink is never the same way twice.

And god, he’s sensitive about them, too. You asked who did them, if you could get something like them, and he almost hissed. So defensive, he won’t tell who his artist was. Not like that was the only way he was sensitive about them. The way he moans when you’re having sex and you drag your hands over his wings, you’d think you were his fucking god.

You’ve called him your angel more than once. He always laughed, brushed it off. And you’d ghost your hands over his shoulderblades, marveling at how soft his skin was as he melted under your touch.

But not this time.

It’s been a year since you started dating, and you just proposed, and here your angel is, shaking his head, looking worried.

“You wouldn’t want me to marry you, if you knew.”

“Knew what?” You’re surprised at how distant your voice sounds. At how heavy the air feels.

He turns around and shucks his shirt, exposing his gorgeous shoulders, the beautiful curve of his spine, his lovely tattoos.

“What are you-“

You only get out half a thought when you notice the air around him shimmer. You blink once, then twice, convinced you’re seeing things- it’s almost like the feathers are moving on his skin. And then, you realize, they are.

It starts with the leading feathers, secondaries, you think they’re called. They peel off his flesh, like a sticker from paper. For a moment, they’re ephemeral, a two-dimensional apparition in three-dimensional space. Then the air shimmers some more (glittering would be a more suitable word) and you catch the barest hint of whispers, and they’re suddenly real.

The other feathers, and then the flesh and strong muscle follow, tawny and speckled, matching his freckled skin. They’re bigger than at first, too- the five foot wingspan that stretched across his arms and back rustling into reality at least fifteen feet wide. From where you’re standing, as he flexes the no doubt tense muscle, you’re walled in by impossible wings.

They smell like his hair.

It takes a few minutes when the transfiguration is complete for you to realize that he’s talking to you. You had been staring in awe at your angel’s feathers; he was staring at your face over his shoulder.

You stumble over your words. “P-pardon me?”

There’s a faint trace of his normal smile on his face, twisted by bitterness. “I said, see? I’m kind of a mutant.”

You shake your head and step forward, tracing a finger lightly over his wing joints. Dimly you’re aware of how he trembles just like always, his wings sensitive like nothing else. “Why would I- why did you keep this hidden? They’re gorgeous, my god…”

“Mutants aren’t really welcomed by most, you know.”

“I’m not most.” You turn away from his wings and wrap your arms around his waist, kissing the back of his neck and reveling in the feeling of farm feathers around you. “Can you fly?”

He chuckles lightly. “Of course I can.”

You duck under his wings, circling to his front so he can see just how big your smile is.

“Show me.”

thisisdarrelsblog: angryvriska: invisible-giraffe: itschipdog:...

Tue, 21 May 2013 13:22:13 -0400

thisisdarrelsblog:

angryvriska:

invisible-giraffe:

itschipdog:

is this OFF

somebody needs to draw the batter riding that duck

you called?

Yes perfect.

cuddlefeyrac: au where gatsby and nick get married and gatsby’s vows are all addressed to old sport...

Tue, 21 May 2013 05:54:22 -0400

cuddlefeyrac:

au where gatsby and nick get married and gatsby’s vows are all addressed to old sport and when the preacher asks if he takes nicholas carraway to be his lawfully wedded husband, gatsby just stands there in confusion for a few minutes and eventually confesses that he has no idea who nicholas carraway is he’s here to marry old sport

Photo

Tue, 21 May 2013 05:46:24 -0400

"“Of everything I have seen, it’s you I want to go on seeing: of everything I’ve touched, it’s..."

Mon, 20 May 2013 23:35:16 -0400

“

“Of everything I have seen,
it’s you I want to go on seeing:
of everything I’ve touched,
it’s your flesh I want to go on touching.
I love your orange laughter.
I am moved by the sight of you sleeping.

What am I to do, love, loved one?
I don’t know how others love
or how people loved in the past.
I live, watching you, loving you.
Being in love is my nature.”

”

- Pablo Neruda (via lepetitelivre)

skywardsnavigation: echoicdragonkin: chain-of-prospit: ...

Mon, 20 May 2013 21:06:26 -0400

skywardsnavigation:

echoicdragonkin:

chain-of-prospit:

[[ So, I wrote this stupiddumb poem thing last summer (hence some missing characters) but never got around to posting it. Today seemed like a good day to finally do so. Happy Homestuck, everyone. ]]

this made me cry

thank you

<3

unimpressedcats: pay attention to me

Mon, 20 May 2013 20:52:13 -0400

unimpressedcats:

pay

attention

to

me

cishetssuck: friendly reminder that: you are not weak if you want meds for your disorder you are...

Mon, 20 May 2013 20:49:10 -0400

cishetssuck:

friendly reminder that:

you are not weak if you want meds for your disorder

you are not weak if you relapse once

you are not weak if you relapse a thousand times

you are not weak if some kinds of therapy don’t work for you

you are not weak if some kinds of meds don’t work for you

you are not weak if you have a mental disorder.

erisponge: From Homestuck Vol.9 : Moonsetter favorite...

Mon, 20 May 2013 20:46:27 -0400

erisponge:

From Homestuck Vol.9 : Moonsetter

favorite foreveeerrr

karcricket: norisus: AHHHHHH these are fun I WANT ONE

Mon, 20 May 2013 20:43:56 -0400

karcricket:

norisus:

AHHHHHH these are fun

I WANT ONE

shmeards: gods-nips: I AM SO FUCKING DONE WITH THIS WEBSITE...

Mon, 20 May 2013 20:38:04 -0400

shmeards:

gods-nips:

I AM SO FUCKING DONE WITH THIS WEBSITE LIKE I CANNOT.

I’VE BEEN LAUGHING FOR LIKE 5 MINUTES STRAIGHT.

Always reblog

landofstrangers: Barbie and Ken. If you look in the second to...

Mon, 20 May 2013 12:05:45 -0400

landofstrangers:

Barbie and Ken.

If you look in the second to last picture, you can see an eye in the window in the mirror, like there’s someone looking into the dollhouse.

nevermindbleachinutero: “When Kurt Cobain was alive he was...

Mon, 20 May 2013 11:32:47 -0400

nevermindbleachinutero:

“When Kurt Cobain was alive he was known as the mysterious, quiet rocker. When he died he was known as a depressed drug addict. Kurt Cobain didn’t use drugs because the drugs used him. I don’t think anyone who knew him personally saw him the way the media portrayed him. Did the media ever mention that after a show was over he would sit in the tour bus and write back fan mail? He would try to answer at least thirty letters a night. In 1993, the media never reported the story of Kurt Cobain visiting a fan who wrote him [Kurt Cobain] a letter and asked him to come see her before she died of Cancer. They [the media] never forgot to remind everyone that he had demons though. Don’t listen to what you might have heard from the media. Kurt Cobain loved every single fan he had. He just couldn’t deal with being put on a pedestal that he was constantly afraid of falling off of.”

-Danny Goldberg

“I’ll never forget the day Marilyn and I were walking around...

Mon, 20 May 2013 11:14:47 -0400

“I’ll never forget the day Marilyn and I were walking around New York City, just having a stroll on a nice day. She loved New York because no one bothered her there like they did in Hollywood, she could put on her plain-jane clothes and no one would notice her. She loved that. So as we we’re walking down Broadway, she turns to me and says ‘Do you want to see me become her?’ I didn’t know what she meant but I just said ‘Yes’- and then I saw it. I don’t know how to explain what she did because it was so very subtle, but she turned something on within herself that was almost like magic. And suddenly cars were slowing and people were turning their heads and stopping to stare. They were recognizing that this was Marilyn Monroe as if she pulled off a mask or something, even though a second ago nobody noticed her. I had never seen anything like it before.” - Amy Greene, wife of Marilyn’s personal photographer Milton Greene

Photo

Mon, 20 May 2013 11:08:38 -0400

Photo

Mon, 20 May 2013 11:05:43 -0400

surimistick: i was making a lot of mistakes and then my archery instructor said: “you make mistakes...

Mon, 20 May 2013 11:00:26 -0400

surimistick:

i was making a lot of mistakes and then my archery instructor said:

“you make mistakes because you’re focusing on the target and not on your actions”

and i was like woah

thanks for giving me the best life advice i’ve ever gotten