“The soul is an irrational, indivisible equation that perfectly expresses one thing: you. The soul would be no good to the devil if it could be destroyed. And it is not lost when placed in Satan’s care, as is so often said. He always know exactly how to put his finger on it.” ― Joe Hill, Horns


Luke Pasqualino as Sirius Black and Avan Jogia as Regulus Black

“Who the hell does Taylor swift think she is, running around town expressing her emotions creatively through an art form that she happens to be very talented in? How dare a woman write songs about how men in her life have let her down, lied to her, and treated her like an object! Quit your whining, girly, and embrace the blatant sexism that dominates your industry. Never mind that you’re a multi award winning recording artist who managed to be a ‘teen star’ who’s biggest scandal wasn’t drugs, alcohol or criminal activity in general, but the number of boyfriends you’ve had. You have dated a bunch of different guys, so you’re basically you’re a terrible person. How dare you go through the very normal act of dating? Don’t you know you’re a celebrity and a young female celebrity at that, and therefore have no right to privacy, sympathy or respect? And then you go and turn your life experiences into art? I mean, who does that? And what about your terrible dancing at the Grammys? I mean, we know that you’re a singer and a song writer and have never professed to being a good dancer, and you were probably just having a bit of fun, dancing with a friend to a song you thought was cool, but we all thought you looked like a total douche. Seriously. And even though you don’t give a shit what anyone thinks of your dancing, we care, and we like to laugh at you. And that is all that matters. So we hope you go home to your multi-million dollar house, with your hugely successful multi-platinum albums on the walls, and the trophy case full of awards, look at your beautiful reflection in the mirror and cry… because you’re kind of a dorky dancer.” — internet user Elizabeth who deserves all the fine wines and artisinal cheeses she could possibly consume, or whatever the hell else would make her feel like the winner of everything (via surfmelon)


Another Doctor Who commission from Big Chief Studios and officially approved by the BBC! This is my long-awaited portrait of the Ninth Doctor, titled “The Parting of the Ways" - it’s meant to be a dually melancholy/hopeful piece, as it was inspired by both the triumphant scene in The Doctor Dances, as well as the bittersweet regeneration scene in The End of Time. Part of my official series!

Will be available to buy online as a licensed print very soon! Please follow me on Tumblr or Instagram for relevant announcements (and maybe giveaways!)

Title: Magnificent (an Amy Pond tribute)
Artist: Paola Bennet
Played: 25983 times



It’s been a year, almost to the day, and still I mourn that mad, brave Scottish girl who walked the stars. Among the many things I love about Amy, one of my favorite aspects of her is story: the role of others’ stories in her life, her role in various stories that played out, and the stories she herself created. This is the story of the storyteller, Amelia Pond.

Full lyrics under the cut (& listen with headphones!).

i have seen worlds born in my head
hanging on silver threads
for that, they cry “crazy”

i’m burning up under a small-town sun
but give me the chance to run
the skies will obey me

hitched a ride on a madman’s heart
i’ve never been out so far
the cosmos are beckoning

and there is a beast round every door
but what else is courage for?
each step is a reckoning

so don’t you promise 
unless you swear on it
there is no coming home from losing innocence

but in my hair are comets
i’ve never felt so honest
never mind all the times they’ve said i don’t make sense
because the stars have christened me “magnificent”

i carry my own guns for a fight
but that little girl poised for flight
each time i still bring her

but she’s taught me not to trust so hard
because patience just gives you scars;
they burn and they linger

so don’t you promise 
unless you swear on it
there is no coming home from losing innocence

but in my hair are comets
i’ve never felt so honest
never mind all the times they’ve said i don’t make sense
because the stars have christened me “magnificent”

falling through cracks to older times
planets along my spine
there’s so much i want to keep

pirate ships and flying whales
out of some fairytale
they’re all still there in my sleep…

so i will promise
to sometimes think upon it
but i don’t need daydreams in the present tense

i still look for comets
and if i’m being honest,
this last bow, the story now, seems to make perfect sense
i was then and i am still magnificent


"Amelia Pond. Like a name in a fairytale.”


The Mirror of Erised: The Single Saddest Object in the history of literature.

I’ve seen her heart- and this time not literally- and I’m telling you right now that she cares more about your lives than you will ever know.


Prague (by stedef (Sweeper is ON))