emmablackeru:

why you should be my friend

  1. I will talk about sex with you and not care in the slightest even if you have the most bizarre kinks I do not give a shit
  2. I will reblog your selfies no questions asked
  3. I will ask you questions on anon to make you look more popular
  4. nothing happens to me so you can talk about yourself forever.

Cathedral of St. Stephen - Passau, Germany

While I was away from tumblr I attempted at trying to do things that normally make me nervous and slightly anxious. That included talking to guys, or attempting to, and I failed horribly.

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hittings:

"How do you trust your feelings when they can just disappear like that?"

Blue Valentine (2010)

“Just you wait,” he hissed. “Just you wait. Papa Koschei is coming, coming, coming, over the hills on his red horse, and he’s got bells on his boots and a ring in his pocket, and he knows your name, Marya Morevna.” - Deathless, Catherynne M. Valente

signs secret abilities

  • aries: can write rlly cute poems
  • taurus: amazing at putting together ikea furniture 
  • gemini: best mac and cheese maker around
  • cancer: can decorate cakes really good
  • leo: photoshop expert
  • virgo: can memorize song lyrics in a flash
  • libra: great at finding four leaf clovers
  • scorpio: super good with makeup
  • sagittarius: can take really pretty photos
  • capricorn: expert tree climber
  • aquarius: awesome at giving speeches
  • pisces:  can beat any and every video game

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,
oh,
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)

enchantingimagery:

Lily Cole