Fashion's not worth it unless it has a little bit of fight to it. Bring it on.
Bear Cub, 21, Merced, CA.
    • When someone walks slower than me: omfg your slow ass is clogging up the hallway for the rest of us put some pep in your step grandma
    • When someone walks faster than me: jesus christ are you on the run from the police this isn't a race you can tone it down usain bolt
    • When someone walks at the same pace as me: who gave your creepy ass permission to walk with me get the fuck away before I call the cops
  • prussian-lullaby:




    The blackest bird there ever was. It’s black on the outside from head to toe, and black on the inside with its meat and organs.

    It’s called the Ayam Cemani from Indonesia, and they’re $2,500 a pop. Their bones are black, too. The only part of them that’s not black is their blood 

    That’s metal.

    The biggest, blackest cock

    (via yogaboi)

  • fractioned:

    Get to know me - Favourite Films [2/?]

    Pacific Rim (2013), dir. Guillermo del Toro

    (via lana-del-sting-ray)

  • friendlycloud:


    Protesters in New Delhi are hit with a police water cannon blast during their demonstration following the brutal gang rape of a 23-year-old woman, which has sparked  powerful protests in India’s capital in recent days.

    [Saurabh Das/AP]

    Countries ABC, protest: India

    (via thecompleteillustrated)

    • 2010 tumblr: don't be racist or homophobic or sexist. Be kind and accepting
    • 2014 tumblr: I'm more oppressed than you. Don't listen to white rappers. Sushi is cultural appropriation. Kill straight people.
  • sympxthise:

    my hands are freezing can i put them down your pants 

    (via psychedelicatessenn)

    • me when i dont got this: i got this
  • sixpathsofbased:

    Truly me not caring for the hoes

    (Source: elwnenano, via bakerytimemachine)

  • lardypoison:

    why r fire extinguishers in glass cases that u have to smash?? its like u know what this fire needs?? more danger

    (via oak23)

  • soyrwoo:


    reverse werewolves. wolves that turn into confused but excited humans every month at the full moon and run around doing weird human stuff until they wake up the next day in the middle of an office with a suit loosely draped over their wolf form

    "hey, jen, did you finish those taxes?"


    "uh… jen…?"

    (via volcainist)

  • rainbow-femme:

    I’m sick of magical worlds with no technology. I want fairy run coffee shops where you can get a latte with a shot of charisma, because you’ve got a big presentation you’re worried about, or witches working at Apple selling phones that automatically appear in your pocket if you accidentally leave it somewhere, or psychics running hair salons who always know how you want your hair to look, or aura reader therapists. I just really want normalized magic in modern society

    "It wasn’t that Charlie didn’t want a job at the Enchanter’s Guild; it was every young spellcaster’s dream to get into the elite positions in their fields. Charlus Everblesser the Courageous did have a nice ring to it after all. But, like most kids his age, Charlie couldn’t just conjure up the funds to get into an elite magical program at an Ivy League school (they’d abolished that in the Alchemical Forgery act of 1953) and so he had to settle for a state school. Well, the guild was only looking for the best of the best, and posts were limited considering a witch or wizard could stay in the workforce of a hundred and fifty years or more before even considering retirement. Charlie didn’t mind too much, he thought to himself as he began infusing luck into the steamed milk in a bright-eyed leprechaun’s mint and pistachio cappuccino latte, it’s an honest living and it didn’t hurt to be helping all of these people in little ways. Sure, sometimes you had to jinx someone’s coffee to remind them to be considerate to their fellow patrons or the staff, but it was nice to be able to give the burgeoning artist a shot of inspiration, or the little old lady who’s been coming regularly for twenty years a free extra shot of longevity (and believe me, it’s the good stuff) when she’s got her back turned. It just felt nice to be able to be nice and do good things for good people.

    That’s when he showed up, right on schedule. Ernest had been a faithful patron since Charlie had applied for the position, always coming in for a coffee at noon (apparently only on days when Charlie was on shift though, according to Sally the Soothsayer who prepped and read the teas for customers, and he was inclined to trust her— seeing as she only said sooths) and ordering the same thing, a vanilla bean frappe with a shot of intuition. It was nice to have a customer that loyal, and with a dependable order. You could already start mentally prepping their drink the minute they walk through the door. The longer the prepwork, the better the spell.

    Charlie handed the green cappuccino to the perky leprechaun with a kind yet distant word he’s sure he’d already forgotten by the time she walked off, sugary drink in tow.

    The thing about Ernest was that not only was he polite and dependable, he was unfairly attractive. Bright green eyes, wild auburn hair, a smattering of freckles, and subtly pointed incisors and ears that spoke of an origin that wasn’t entirely human. He was always dressed in a nice suit that was cozy more than ostentatious: usually something gray and nubbly or an olive wool and tweed combination. He wore a pair of horn and wood rimmed spectacles that made his eyes seem to sparkle, and framed his slightly upturned nose quite nicely. Today was the olive tweed jacket, paired with a forest green knitted vest, a shirt and tie, and a pair of brown wool trousers that Charlie was certain framed Ernest’s rump quite nicely. He also appeared to have the start of a weekend beard coming along. Charlie was sure he could already feel a blush coming on.

    "Morning Ernest, a cup of the usual?" Charlie asked, scrubbing an imaginary stain with a damp dishtowel (those imaginary stains were the worst, took too much magic to get rid of the damn things properly).

    Ernest gave a shy smile. “Hey Charlie, actually, instead of the usual inspiration, would it be too much trouble to get a dash of courage instead.”

    Huh, so much for reliable.

    "Sure, don’t tell management, but courage is a bit of a specialty of mine" Charlie replied, already turning to the percolator/steam infuser/alchemical compressor hybrid, tossing ingredients in as they felt right. "Don’t worry about this one Ernest, you’ve been coming here so long it’s about time for your free with purchase coffee."

    "Oh, but I insist on paying." Ernest stammered properly, his glasses slipping marginally down his adorable —possibly elfin— nose.

    "Tell you what, you cover the coffee, and the magic is free."

    "If you’re really alright with that," Ernest conceded, "Though I’d much rather pay for the whole thing."

    "It’s nothing for my most loyal customer" Charlie replied, and maybe it was his imagination (or an imaginary stain) but he could have sworn he saw a blush on Ernest’s face, "Will this be for here or to go?"

    "Oh, er, for here of course. The magic is best while it’s fresh." Ernest replied. Charlie liked a man who could appreciate the half-life on an edible enchantment.

    Charlie handed Ernest the beverage with his warmest and probably least work appropriate smile. He took Ernest’s three-fifty, and tried to teleport it into his left rear pants pocket, only to have the money reappear, this time with a clatter into his tip jar. Ernie turned toward’s him, showing a shy yet clever smile before rubbing the pocket that Charlie had opened a temporary portal to. “Those tickle”.

    Charlie, naturally, turned beet red and ducked behind his workstation. It was noon, so the morning rush had lulled, and most patrons went to other establishments for full meals. He got a couple of hipster elves a few of their vegan mushroom wraps (assuring the elves that none of the vegetables had been at any time sentient or taken by force). He watched with unusual curiosity as Ernest sip his frappe in the back corner, his smile getting larger and filled with more vigor after every sip.

    He took his empty cup and brought it to the counter.

    "What’s the matter Ernest, the courage not to your liking?" Charlie asked.

    Ernest gave a small chuckle, “No, the courage was just fine. I’m just hungry for a little something extra.”

    "Well, the menu’s right there if you want a loo—" And which that Charlie was silenced by two hands wrapped around the straps of his apron and a pair of lips against his own. He returned the kiss with equal fervor.

    "I’ve been wanting to do that for ages." Ernest said with a smile, fixing his glasses that had gone rather askew during his spontaneous romantic gesture.

    Charlie was gobsmacked, “WELL WHY DIDN’T YOU?!?!”

    "I’ve never had the courage, plus, I wanted to get to know you better, it’s why I’ve been ordering your intuition for a year and a half straight." Ernest said, fishing a card and his Spellphone out of his jacket’s chest pocket. "That being said, I know you don’t work this Saturday night, and I was wondering, if you didn’t have plans that night, if you’d want to go to dinner with me?"

    "Oh my gods yes! I’d love to!" Charlie replied in a way that was most certainly not a girlish squeal, "I’d love to go on a date with you."

    "Pick you up around seven?"

    "That’d be perf" Charlie agreed.

    Ernest gave the card with his number on it, tapping into Charlie’s breast pocket with a light “Neverlost” charm to ensure that Charlie had it and wouldn’t lost the number. He them took the blushing spellcaster’s hand and laid a light kiss upon it before checking his watch and leaving the coffeehouse with a sultry swish to his step. Charlie was right, those pants framed Ernie’s ass fabulously.

    It was at the moment that Sally tumbled out of the employee restroom smelling of weed and frankincense.

    "I knew that was going to happen." She cheered, her multicolored dreds bouncing in time with her giddy pogoing.

    "Then why didn’t you tell me?!?!" Charlie shrieked to his slightly stoned coworker.

    "Well, where’d the fun in that be?" 

    (via idoartandshit)