as you might know, i’ve moved blogs a few weeks ago; i’ve decided not to delete this one for nostalgic reasons, but i won’t be updating it anymore, so you can unfollow it. 

the new blog is fantineslark btw

i've moved blogs!

my new home is at

so go follow me there if you want to! i’d much appreciate it :)

The Bear and the Maiden Fair (3x07) - Game of Thrones

theme under construction, jsyk

There were the books, and wolves were in the books.
They roamed between words. They snarled and loped
through stories with bedraggled wolfish looks

at which the hackles rose and the world stopped
in horror, and she read them because she knew
the pleasures of reading, the page being rapt

with the magic of the fierce, and she could do
the talk of such creatures. So one day
when teacher asked if there were any who

could read, she rose as if the task were play,
to claim the story where she felt at home.
The tale was Riding Hood, the wolf was grey.

The fierceness was the wood where grey wolves roam.
She read it round, she read it through and through
It was as if the wolf were hers to comb,

like those bedraggled creatures in the zoo
that, trapped behind the bars, would snarl and stride
as you’d expect a page or wolf to do.

—— The Wolf Reader by George Szirtes (via slaughteringlamb)



Come, you spirits that tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here, and fill me from the crown to the toe top-full of the direst cruelty. Make thick my blood, stop up th’access and passage to remorse, that no compunctious visitings of nature shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between th’effect of it. 


speaking someone else’s lines, a mix for Eleanor Catton’s The Rehearsal; a book about girls and women, sensuality and youth, power and control and the theater and music. [listen]

“I require of all my students… that they are downy and pubescent, pimpled with sullen mistrust, and boiling away with private fury and ardor and uncertainty and gloom. I require that they wait in the corridor for ten minutes at least before each lesson, tenderly nursing their injustices, picking miserably at their own unworthiness as one might finger a scab or caress a scar. If I am to teach your daughter, you darling hopeless and inadequate mother, she must be moody and bewildered and awkward and dissatisfied and wrong. When she realizes that her body is a secret, a dark and yawning secret of which she becomes more and more ashamed, come back to me. You must understand me on this point. I cannot teach children.” 

1. When the Chips Are Down - Anaïs Mitchell; 2. Sweet About Me - Gabriella Cimli; 3. I Don’t Need a Man - miss A; 4. Guillotine - YADi; 5.  The Boys Are Too Refined - The Hush Sound; 6. Cheerleader - St Vincent; 7. Oh My God - Ida Maria; 8. Your Lips are Red - St Vincent; 9. About your Funeral - sóley

so my grandmother showed a picture of me to a psychic, and she told her that i’m going to have a son

Stoker + Letters to India

❝ You are not afraid.
You are a cathedral waiting to be filled with hymns;
you are an infinite playground;
you are sky-bound and sprinting,
so cover your heart in goose-bump armor.
It will only beat stronger,
beat louder. ❞
—— From “Perfectly Human” by Miles Walser. (via headachesandhardbacks)