For a long time all I wanted for Christmas were books about outdoor survival. I was convinced that the woods were calling me. I camped a lot, I took classes. At 18, I told myself if I don’t live in the woods by myself by the time I’m 25, I have failed.
[…] I swear to God, if you saw me when I am by myself in the woods, I’m a lunatic. I sing, I dance. I do crazy shit.
“Draco should be proud,” said Bellatrix indifferently. “The Dark Lord is granting him a great honor. And I will say this for Draco: he isn’t shrinking away from his duty, he seems glad of a chance to prove himself, excited at the prospect—” Narcissa began to cry in earnest, gazing beseechingly all the while at Snape. “That’s because he is sixteen and has no idea what lies in store! Why, Severus? Why my son? It is too dangerous! This is vengeance for Lucius’s mistake, I know it!” […] She crumpled, falling at his feet, sobbing and moaning on the floor. “My only son… my only son…”
color palette, inspired by: my soul
“He’s an indulgent sort of man… with a quick lip and a fierce tongue, the sort of tongue that draws you in with charm and words of praise, awkward silences and desperate worships.”
And as the world comes to an end
I’ll be here to hold your hand
No escape from the storm inside of me.
There’s something seriously wrong when a tv network believes that it’s audience would rather see Jaime Lannister rape Cersei instead of enjoying consensual sex with the woman he loves. HBO’s insistence on adding extra violence towards women in the series is truly disgusting.