point de part

The Vampire Chronicles: Favorite relationships and friendships, part II

“I’m Lestat,” I said in a low voice. “Your Lestat. I’m the same Lestat you’ve always known, and no matter how I’m changed, I’m still that same being.”
“I know,” he said warmly.
I kissed him. I pressed my lips to his and I held this kiss for a long silent moment. And then I gave in to a silent wave of feeling, and I took him in my arms. I held him tight against me. I felt his unmistakable silken skin, his soft shining black hair. I heard the blood throbbing in him, and time dissolved, and it seemed I was in some old and secret place, some warm tropical grotto we’d once shared, ours alone in some way, with the scent of sweet olive blossoms and the whisper of moist breeze. “I love you,” I whispered.
In a low intimate voice, he answered: “My heart is yours.”

Quand A. me dit qu’elle va m’envoyer des documents importants pour notre exposé qui est dans deux jours et qu’après plus de 4h ce n’est toujours pas fait


Descendants + Flower Crowns (Part 1/?)

So the internet went down at school today and my friend made a joke about me having to pass the time making flower crown edits instead…

He should have learned by now not to make jokes like that if he wasnt expecting me to actually follow through on it.

theroyalpalmtreeofoz  asked:

I still like the head canon that all the inaccuracies in the first book that Louis should have known about was just him trying to piss Lestat off so much that he'd wake up.

Well it worked, didn’t it?!

“And when the night was empty and still, I heard the voices of Interview with the Vampire singing to me, as if they sang from the grave. I read the book over  and over. And then in a moment of contemptible anger, I shredded it to bits.”

“… As for the lies he told, the mistakes  he made, well, I forgive him his excess  of imagination, his bitterness, and his vanity, which was, after all, never very great… But little things like this don’t really matter. He told the tale as he believed it… And why should I bother to tell of the times he came to me in wretched anxiety, begging me never to leave him…” 

“Read between the lines.”