Graphic Designer

♥ typography
♥ industrial music
♥ Lord of the Rings
♥ Harry Potter
♥ dancing
♥ corsets
♥ nerds
♥ women
♥ New Zealand

I love working at events, parties and concerts, whether it be lighting design, roadie work, gogo dancing, set decoration or personal assistant, I love it all. I left my soul in Wellington. ♥

Follow me and ask me questions and stuff! It makes me feel loved! :D

11th April 2014

Photoset reblogged from Kitteh Kats with 112,559 notes

Source: alisxrico

26th March 2014

Photoset reblogged from Kitteh Kats with 103,785 notes



Please don’t repost, thank you! :3

High quality prints available soon, after I add a little jellyfish cat / cat jelly / jellykitty?? into the picture (yes, more opportunities for word games lol). If you’re interested, please email me at to be notified when they’re available!

Source: vivedessins

26th March 2014

Photoset reblogged from Kitteh Kats with 66,136 notes


The love that dare not speak its name.

Source: rraaaarrl

7th March 2014

Photo reblogged from Johannes Licht with 5 notes


I left my Goth friend from Gothenburg at a Goth cathedral while I was to work.


I left my Goth friend from Gothenburg at a Goth cathedral while I was to work.

26th February 2014

Photo reblogged from ♥GOTHFAP♥ with 244 notes

Source: raquelojordan

26th February 2014

Quote reblogged from It's gonna be a month of rain with 41,269 notes

I once told a joke about a straight person.

They came after me in droves.

Each one singing the same:

Don’t fight fire with fire.


What they mean is: Don’t fight fire with anything.

Do not fight fire with water.

Do not fight fire with foam.

Do not evacuate the people.

Do not sound the alarms.

Do not crawl coughing and choking and spluttering to safety.

Do not barricade the door with damp towels.

Do not wave a white flag out of the window.

Do not take the plunge from several storeys up.

Do not shed a tear for your lover trapped behind a wall of flame.

Do not curse the combination of fuel, heat, and oxygen.

Do not ask why the fire fighters are not coming.


When they say: Don’t fight fire with fire.

What they mean is: Stand and burn.

Stand and Burn by Claudia Boleyn.  (via claudiaboleyn)

Source: claudiaboleyn

26th February 2014

Photo reblogged from Kyle Cassidy's Image Stream with 35 notes


The Dead Milkmen are back in the studio recording a followup to The King in Yellow.


The Dead Milkmen are back in the studio recording a followup to The King in Yellow.

19th February 2014

Post reblogged from my bones are breaking from the weight of the world with 217,177 notes


“Rape culture is when I was six, and my brother punched my two front teeth out. Instead of reprimanding him, my mother said “Stefanie, what did you do to provoke him?” When my only defense was my mother whispering in my ear, “Honey, ignore him. Don’t rile him up. He just wants a reaction.” As if it was my sole purpose, the reason six-year-old me existed, was to not rile up my brother. It’s starts when we’re six, and ends when we grow up assuming the natural state of a man is a predator, and I must walk on eggshells, as to not “rile him up.” Right, mom? Rape culture is when through casual dinner conversation, my father says that women who get raped are asking for it. He says, “I see them on the streets of New York City, with their short skirts and heavy makeup. Asking for it.” When I used to be my father’s hero but will he think I was asking for it? (will he think) Will he think I deserved it? Will he hold me accountable or will he hold me, even though the touch of a man - especially my father’s - burns as if I were holding the sun in the palm of my hand. Rape culture is you were so ashamed, you thought it would be easier for your parents to find you dead, than to say, “Hey mom and dad,” It wasn’t my fault. I didn’t ask for it. I never asked for this attention, I never asked to be a target, to be weak because I was born with two X chromosomes, to walk in fear, to always look behind me, in front of me, next to me, I never asked to be the prey. I never wanted to spend my life being something someone feasts upon, a meal for the eternally starved. I do not want to hear about the way I taste anymore. I will not let you eat me alive. Rape culture is I shouldn’t defend my friend when an overaggressive frat boy has his hand on her ass, because standing up for her body “makes me a target.” Women are afraid to speak up, because they fear their own lives - but I’d rather take the hit than live in a culture of silence. I am told that I will always be the victim, pre-determined by the DNA in my weaker, softer body. I have birthing hips, not a fighter’s stance. I am genetically pre-dispositioned to lose every time. Rape culture is he was probably abused as a child. When he even has some form of a justification and all I have are the things that provoked him, and the scars from his touch are woven of the darkest and toughest strings, underneath the layer of my skin. Rape culture leaves me finding pieces of him left inside of me. A bone of his elbow. The cap of his knee. There is something so daunting in the way that I know it will take me years to methodically extract him from my body. And that twinge I will get sometimes in my arm fifteen years later? Proof of the past. Like a tattoo I didn’t ask for. Somehow I am permanently inked. Rape culture is you can’t wear that outfit anymore without feeling dirty, without feeling like you somehow earned it. You will feel like you are walking on knives, every time you wear the shoes you smashed his nose in with. Imaginary blood on the bottom of your heels, thinking, maybe this will heal me. Those shoes are your freedom, But the remains of a life long fight. You will always carry your heart, your passion, your absolute will to live, but also the shame and the guilt and the pain. I saved myself but I still feel like I’m walking on knives. Rape culture is “Stefanie, you weren’t really raped, you were one of the lucky ones.” Because my body wasn’t penetrated by a penis, but fingers instead, that I should feel lucky. I should get on my hands and knees and say, thank you. Thank you for being so kind. Rape culture is “things could have been worse.” “It’s been a month, Stefanie. Get out of bed.” “You’ll have to get over this eventually.” “Don’t let it ruin your life.” Rape culture is he told you that after he touched you, no one would ever want you again. And you believed him. Rape culture is telling your daughters not to get raped, instead of teaching your sons how to treat all women. That sex is not a right. You are not entitled to this. The worst possible thing you can call a woman is a slut, a whore, a bitch. The worst possible thing you can call a man is a bitch, a pussy, a girl. The worst thing you can call a girl is a girl. The worst thing you can call a guy is a girl. Being a woman is the ultimate rejection, the ultimate dismissal of strength and power, the absolute insult. When I have a daughter, I will tell her that she is not an insult. When I have a daughter, she will know how to fight. I will look at her like the sun when she comes home with anger in her fists. Because we are human beings and we do not always have to take what we are given. They all tell her not to fight fire with fire, but that is only because they are afraid of her flames. I will teach her the value of the word “no” so that when she hears it, she will not question it. My daughter, Don’t you dare apologize for the fierce love you have for yourself and the lengths you go to preserve it. My daughter, I am alive because of the fierce love I have for myself, and because my father taught me to protect that. He taught me that sometimes, I have to do my own bit of saving, pick myself off the ground and wipe the dirt off my face, because at the end of the day, there is only me. I am alive because my mother taught me to love myself. She taught me that I am an enigma - a mystery, a paradox, an unfinished masterpiece and I must love myself enough to see how I turn out. I am alive because even beaten, voiceless, and back against the wall, I knew there was an ounce of me worth fighting for. And for that, I thank my parents. Instead of teaching my daughter to cover herself up, I will show her how to be exposed. Because no is not “convince me”. No is not “I want it”. You call me, “Little lady, pretty girl, beautiful woman.” But I am not any of these things for you. I am exploding light, my daughter will be exploding light, and you, better cover your eyes.”


Rape Culture (Cover Your Eyes)

11th February 2014

Post reblogged from Warm Regards, Cara with 128,708 notes


Why do movies show “nerdy girls” as carrying a billion books, and then portray them as physically weak? If a girl can carry the harry potter series, the lotr trilogy, and all of her textbooks then she can probably lift the protagonist football star and throw him across the football field

Source: thelumpyconglomerate

11th February 2014

Quote reblogged from Warm Regards, Cara with 174 notes

Skepticism is my nature. Freethought is my methodology. Agnosticism is my conclusion. Atheism is my opinion. Humanitarianism is my motivation.
Jerry DeWitt of Recovering from Religion, speaking on The Atheist Experience episode 764 (audio link, comments at 26 mins 55 sec). (via warmregardscara)