I love her severely. I want her to read me to sleep. I’ve obviously never met her, but one can tell, through her interviews, that her energy is the type you want around you.

I love her severely. I want her to read me to sleep. I’ve obviously never met her, but one can tell, through her interviews, that her energy is the type you want around you.

  • mom: honey why do you stay up so late
  • me:
  • me:
  • me:
  • me: because sometimes Beyoncé releases raNDOM SHIT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT AND I HAVE TO BE PREPARED FOR THAT
vincerediem:

ursulavernon:

wickedgirlssavingourselves:

Brontësaurus

This is the best thing ever.

I fucking love this website.

vincerediem:

ursulavernon:

wickedgirlssavingourselves:

Brontësaurus

This is the best thing ever.

I fucking love this website.

"Only the weak-minded refuse to be influenced by literature and poetry."
Cassandra Clare

I’m having unholy, carnal thoughts.

Let me taste the grape’s nectar of your tongue
From the fingers whose lips you’ve touched have fed
Nurture my ravenous hunger
Suckle your sin from mine mouth
Let me bathe in your sweat
Let it infiltrate every ridge of my skin
Every pore
Every cell
Let me surrender to you.

There’s absolutely nothing better than when someone compliments your writing. Especially when you’re told it’s beautiful.

It truly means a lot to me. Particularly when it comes from someone who is grading you on it.

My little nugget of love keeps me company while I proofread this essay.

My little nugget of love keeps me company while I proofread this essay.

I was at The Last Bookstore on Saturday, and this lady had a cute dog with her. The dog got excited as I was about to walk by so her owner told the dog to “stay”. I thought perhaps the dog wasn’t as friendly as it looked so I asked her, “Should I not go through here?” To which she replied, “I was talking to my dog. She is overly excited.” Bless her soul. The lady thought that I believed she was telling me to stay.

Five hours writing and I have my thesis. It’s a pretty good fucking thesis, too, if you ask me.

An ode to Kim Kardashian

An ode to Kim Kardashian

delusionsofreality:

I wonder if when writers get a new idea, they think to themselves, “Hey, that’s a novel idea,” and chuckle every time.

"Who gives a fuck about an Oxford comma?"

plightofthevalkyries:

Suddenly, there is a great rumbling.

Over hill, over dale, through forest, through fog, they come. Some walk. Some fly. Some crawl. Some simply move deep within the bowels of the earth. They are massive in number, terrifying in their fury. They blot out the sun from the grass below. They nearly shake the earth from orbit with their rage.

They are the English majors. 

They give a fuck about an Oxford comma.