I’m getting bad again..

Send a ☒ and my character will detail how they'd torture yours.

this meme is implying that, were it not that character’s natural tendency, they were being forced to torture yours.

i can’t breathe

Need to get to that level

I need a pull up bar stat. Also I saw the tats and automatically thought of @oatsnjen

Omg 😍

Katarina by Taystamah

Michelle Lewin

Cynthia D'Aprix Sweeney, The Nest (via wordsnquotes)

that’s the DIFFERENCE between YOU & ME

          you WEAR a weapon

                                       i AM a weapon

Idadora by Felipe Goncalves

Each one of these women is an Olympic athlete. Let’s challenge the notion that thinness is the only indicator of health and fitness.

This needs to be reblogged again.

Women need to see images of strong female bodies, it seems like the world only wants to show us being weak or fragile

Sufjan Stevens, Enchanting Ghost (via vixenas)

A 2,500 year old Scythian comb. This is beautiful! (Source)

Most lit afro pick I ever seen

trust your instinct.

“For very good reason.” 

And it was a good reason. A trip to Shurima was no small feat, getting there alone could take two weeks. Then, there was the matter of charming that little barbarian Queen with enough coin. Cassiopeia knew worrying little of the battlemistress, only of her hunger for coin, but the trip could easily turn sour if the bounty proved not enough. It was after all essential that her escort be none other than Sivir herself. 

Free hand sought the stool beneath the dressing table, tugging it out from under it with a single deft movement. She stepped aside, gesturing again. She didn’t want to ask, didn’t feel like she should have to, but Cassiopeia knew that face. It was the expression Katarina took when she was feeling particularly brattish. Once, it had been reserved for their mother, but this role – the one of making her presentable – had long since fallen on Cassiopeia’s shoulders, and she neither had time nor will to fight Katarina. 

“Please sit, Katarina. Your hair will need co-ordinated with your outfit, and if you don’t let me do it, who will? You?”

Cassiopeia didn’t need to scoff to give meaning to that particular sentence. Nonetheless, she gave a small sigh, the expression on her face permanently amused and one arched brow cocked as her head tilted. Perhaps she could distract Katarina with a finer promise; for the implication of her meaning surely was not going to please. 

“You needn’t worry. This will be the last event I drag you with me to for a long time, dear sister.” 

The Eldest Noble scoffed where her kin did not, nose crinkled as she shot her beloved baby sister the dirtiest look she could muster. And yet, despite her childish display, feet were already moving, carrying her to the familiar position between Cassiopeia’s feet upon the floor. However, as she moved to seat herself cross-legged, two words stuck out to her, somehow managed to rub her in the wrong way.

“What do you mean by ‘long time?’” Katarina grunted, any retort that may have been offered in regards to Cassiopeia’s sass dying on her tongue. It wouldn’t kill her to let this one slide, right? “As in you’re going to wait for a whole two weeks between parties before making me attend the next?”

Emerald lingered only for a moment upon eyes colored identically to her own before she turned around, finally settling into her position and internally bracing herself for those first few agonizing pulls of the brush; her hair was only ever maintained perfectly, however hair that met ones belt line often tangled itself more frequently than not. She had just come from the training ground, no doubt there were knots a plenty.

And yet, Katarina never truly minded. If she did, she would not be seated between her sisters feet, obediently waiting for the brush. Perhaps it was because it reminded her so strongly of the mother who had long since been absent from their lives, the victim of illness long, long ago. While Katarina held little affection for the memory of her Parent, there was an undeniable need that was sated by her sister replicating those motions. 

With a heavy sigh and little concern for the trouble it may bring, Katarina leaned against Cassiopiea’s legs and fingers immediately produced a single, silvered blade. A toy to busy fidgety digits while the teeth of the brush buried themselves within her long, crimson tresses. 

“... In one month, I’ll be leaving for Ionia,” Katarina murmured, allowing the words to flow without second thought. She had confessed her plans two weeks prior to her sister, was thankful for the way Cassiopiea didn’t push for her reasons, however-- the truth of the matter was that Katarina hadn’t bothered to confess all of what she had to tend to overseas. Why worry her sister by informing her that Katarina was being assigned to Ionian soil to investigate a series of ghoulish murders of Noxian personnel? Why bother explaining that the victims had their skin flayed, faces occasionally removed?

“Remind me again what you’re to tend to while I’m away? I know we’ve gone over this at least thirteen times, but I can’t have any problems to deal with regarding our House.”