Something Wicked

Sep 2




i’m just laughing at how often jason is referenced in batman animated movies as ~~the uniform behind the glass~~ and someone always either looks at it solemnly or touches the glass to reflect

while meanwhile jason is literally alive in the city running around with a red mask on like diggy-doo i’m gonna shoot you



(via gavinovavino)

Sep 1

The person I reblogged this from is beautiful.


No one will reblog this from me. 

Think again, sweetheart.

(via teh-direktor)




once when i was little, i claimed it was a teacher’s work day so i wouldn’t have to go to school and mom’s not an idiot so of course it didn’t work, but when we got to the school, we found it was a teacher’s work day and that made me think i had super powers so i started trying to kill classmates with my mind to confirm the theory

You thought you had super powers so you immediately attempted to murder everyone

go big or go home

(via gavinovavino)

Meryl Streep on working with Chris and Liam Hemsworth

(via gavinovavino)

I’m dancing at a nightclub
when someone behind me
places a hand on my shoulder.
I assume it’s a friend until
the hand slides down my chest.

Boiling with gin and rage
I grab his wrist, whip around,
and punch him in the jaw.
It doesn’t land well—
I’ve never hit anyone before—
so I punch him in the gut,
just for good measure.

I look at him doubled over and spit
Never do that to a woman again,
and then I run. My friends laugh in the cab:
You punched a guy!
but I sit silent and burning.

In Crown Heights, in Union Square,
in South Williamsburg: men leer and
whistle and smack their lips.
I ignore them, or flip them off,
or tell them I’m married.

When they purr que guapa
I yell callate and they all laugh.
I can’t tell if they’re laughing at me
for being a white girl speaking bad
Spanish, or at the idea that anything
I say might actually shut them up.

In my impotent rage I dream of a world
where I am not public property. I would
start wars for my right to walk down a street
unafraid, a thousand wars for a single day
in which my body belongs to me alone.
An army raised against each cat call. A bullet
for every man who ever told me to smile.

This Poem Will Get Me On Some Kind Of Watchlist, Jessie Lochrie, 2013. (via grammatolatry)

(via micool-jones)


Dogs are such idiots. I love them.


Dogs are such idiots. I love them.

(via gavinovavino)



If you ever think how white people act in horror movies is just a stereotype remember that my grandma used to work in an insane asylum and for fun during her downtime on the night shift she would wander around the abandoned tunnels under the asylum where 8 people had died

what the fuck your grandma is metal as fuck

(via gavinovavino)

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