But women can never be careful enough, can we? If we take naked pictures of ourselves, we’re asking for it. If someone can manage to hack into our accounts, we’re asking for it. If we’re not wearing anti-rape nail polish, we’re asking for it. If we don’t take self-defence classes, we’re asking for it. If we get drunk, we’re asking for it. If our skirts are too short, we’re asking for it. If we pass out at a party, we’re asking for it. If we are not hyper-vigilant every single fucking second of every single fucking day, we are asking for it. Even when we are hyper-vigilant, we’re still asking for it. The fact that we exist is asking for it.

This is what rape culture looks like.

This is what misogyny looks like.


— from What Happened to Jennifer Lawrence Was Sexual Assault  (via catagator)

(via sliveredepitome)

Remembering Finding Flowing

I have no expectations. None. I’m not searching for anything in his touch. There is no meaning in his smile. I’m just going to enjoy his attention. After months of feeling undesirable and unwanted I finally had a night where I felt everything but those things. I needed that night. I needed to ease back into my skin and remember the foxy lady that I am. I needed to hear someone call me gorgeous dozens of times. I needed to have them ask me if I was for really real of just a dream. (Yes, he said that. It was cute.) I needed to sit and flirt and make out. I needed all of my flaws to be seen through someone else’s eyes and be worshipped. I feel happy, content, airy and free. He freed me from the prison of my doubts. I’m still me. Sexy, awesome, charming me. It feels wonderful.
I won’t be diving into anything serious for a while. I’m going to take some more time to reconnect with myself. Remember who I am. I am not the weepy broken hearted girl. No, I am a sexy bubbly lady seeking pleasure and adventure. At least until the next time my heart is whisked away. Till then I have it locked up for safe keeping while I remember me. ;)



Collegehumors’ new video is on point as always


(via fracturedsoulvoyage)

subby Rhymes

Little bruises round my wrist
The places where your fingers twist
The places where the ropes do burn
The places where you lips leave kisses in turn

On my knees all through the night
Where I shall stay till mornings light
Rugs may burn
Wood may bite
I shall not leave my post till those words your lips do cite

lustinsaz said: Have you had a fantasy involving a truck driver? Could you tell me that fantasy?

I have not had that kind of fantasy before. I’m sure I could conjure something up one night.


sometimes it’s really hard not to hate this country.

this is extremely relevant rn

(Source: genderfluidloki, via thegeekykinkevent)

I have a LOT of pictures of my tits in my phone. Some people carry around pictures of their children. I carry around pictures of my titties. These are two of my favs. 

Tags: pics


I hope this sinks in your hearts.

I can’t. I just can’t. I fear for the life of my brother and my nephew. Late night phone calls send chills up my spine. I fear that one night it’ll be my sister calling to tell me one of my babies are gone. I just can’t. This needs to stop.

(via misskittystryker)

The Black Sea at night, Ivan Aivazovsky, oil on canvas, 1879

The Black Sea at night, Ivan Aivazovsky, oil on canvas, 1879

(Source: julietjardin, via hotelbentmooreinspiration)