(Source: hypmos, via urbankiller)

romanticperversions:

Vacances Sexuelles (1978)

romanticperversions:

Vacances Sexuelles (1978)

(via slutevrrr)

fer1972:

3D Paper Patterns by Maud Vantours

(via 2headedsnake)

Guess what? I’m not impressed. Nor was I ever. Beneath my fingernails are dull white crescents of dissapointment, one two three four five six seven eight nine ten, I’ve counted them all one hundred times over, and still, I am only an egg. I don’t want to be trite or insignificant or seem as if I am at all pious, but you were my escape route and now I have no need of you. I find myself caring less and less. Is this growing up? It isn’t quite as bad as so many have led me to believe. So many words fall broken from my tongue, if only because I’ve never heard them spoken aloud. I don’t think I ever will, not if yours is the only voice I can hear. You tout your hymns and your words of wisdom and disapproval, but I find that the ear you whisper into is slowly losing its sense. Every word you never meant to mutter was so sharp and close, but I feel at the bottom of a deep well when you are close to me. You’d never know what dream I have dreamt, but I saw you in your true form, all of your radiant feathers and glimmering scales, all hiding your rather worn claws. Your talons pull across my skin, leaving angry red lumps where they used to flay open nicely. You are the one who is trite, contrived, insignificant, who actually wants to seem pious. As I fell asleep last night, I chanted a phrase over and over in my head, hoping I would remember it in the morning. They were the perfect words, they were the spirit of my staircase. I needed them to show you how little I care, while I care so much. I wanted to be nonchalant, and I never wanted you to know how I prepared for all three faces of your game. I was too tired to get up and scrawl it messily across a scrap of paper, but I was too awake to forget how I despise you. It’s morning, now, it’s light out. I forgot the words, but I still fucking hate you

swagbat:

there’s no limit to how much I love Jason Momoa

ohoiasjdoaijdaj yyyeeesss

swagbat:

there’s no limit to how much I love Jason Momoa

ohoiasjdoaijdaj yyyeeesss

(via pintooo)

raveneuse:

Atsushi Sakai

raveneuse:

Atsushi Sakai

(via slutevrrr)

arabbabydoll:

Ali Michael shot by Petra Collins for Oyster Magazine.

(via klytsjko)

steampunktendencies:

Rai Robledo

steampunktendencies:

Rai Robledo

(via bearsinmymacbook)

(Source: poolofavengers, via mcqueenlovesme)

(Source: halfprincesshalfgoddess)

not-safe-for-earth:

broodinghunx:

moeoftoe:

i’m sorry i was watching this scene and omg jorah’s fucking face the whole time

image

[DRAGON NOISES]

(via bidonica)

visual-poetry:

»before after birth death« by rimma gerlovina

visual-poetry:

»before after birth death« by rimma gerlovina

(Source: feralgoddess)

(Source: puppy-cemetery, via holybae02)