Guess who is editing? me *tears of joy*

Lotte Verbeek as Giulia Farnese in The Borgias [ x ]

Have you imagined for one moment what this has been for me? An unforgivable transgression that has marked me for life. You think you’ve suffered? You think you know blood? You think you’ve walked on corpses? Spread them from here to the horizon, and I have walked further. You weak, foul, lustful, vainglorious man. How dare you speak to me of death?

The first time he calls you holy,
you laugh it back so hard your sides hurt.
The second time,
you moan gospel around his fingers
between your teeth.
He has always surprised
you into surprising yourself.
Because he’s an angel hiding his halo
behind his back and
nothing has ever felt so filthy
as plucking the wings from his shoulders—
undressing his softness
one feather at a time.
God, if you’re out there,
if you’re listening,
he fucks like a seraphim,
and there’s no part of scripture
that ever prepared you for his hands.
Hands that map a communion
in the cradle of your hips.
Hands that kiss hymns up your sides.
He confesses how long he’s looked
for a place to worship and,
you put him on his knees.
When he sinks to the floor and moans
like he can’t help himself,
you wonder if the other angels
fell so sweet.
He says his prayers between your thighs
and you dig your heels into the base of his spine
until he blushes the color of your filthy tongue.
You will ruin him and he will thank you;
he will say please.
No damnation ever looked as cozy as this,
but you fit over his hips like they
were made for you.
You fit, you fit, you fit.
On top of him, you are an ancient god
that only he remembers and he
offers up his skin.
And you take it.
Who knew sacrifice was so profane?
And once you’ve taught him how to hold
your throat in one hand
and your heart in the other,
you will have forgotten every other word,
except his name.
PROFANE, by Ashe Vernon (via tromos)


Lily Cole


I don’t believe that stripper. Drake wouldn’t nut on someone’s new weave, that’s not like him.


 Alexandre Magalhaes

Eric Bana is everything.
I can’t stand that white man.

Ic þe þurhhæle þin licsare!

b u r g u n d y  +  b l a c k


Harry’s blatant enthusiasm when he says “Not at all!” after Ron asks “Do you mind? Everywhere else is full.”

Harry’s obvious thrill at being able to pull out a hand full of galleons and buy more candy than he’s ever been allowed to have in his life.

Harry’s absolute joy over sharing that candy with a peer, and potentially making a friend, something he’s never really had before.

Just Harry having something to be happy about for once, and not worrying that if he smiles too hard or laughs too loud or is caught having things, he’ll get locked up in the cupboard again.