joshradnor:

a terrible love;;
A DAENERYS TARGARYEN FANMIX
{happy birthday, alina!}

01 falling - the civil wars
Tell me it’s nothing
Try to convince me
That I’m not drowning
Oh let me tell you, I am

02 apathy - elizabeth and the catapult
Oh, Apathy
Don’t patronize me
Wake me up, I dare not sleep another hour
I’m waiting for the mission bells
My greatest fear is that I’ll wait for you forever

03 now at last - feist
Now at last I know
What a fool I’ve been
For have lost the last love
I should ever win

04 sundrenched world - joshua radin
I close up my mouth 
When you’re around now 
Suffocating in doubt 
I can’t make a sound 

05 not too late - norah jones
‘Cause my heart is full of no blood
And my cup is full of no love
Couldn’t take another sip even if I wanted

06 soldier on - temper trap
Soldier On
Soldier On
Keep your heart, close to the ground
Soldier On 

07 some kind of home - thriving ivory
Yeah, they put a bullet through your heart
And told you not to cry
You know life should be beautiful
So come on out the shadows for while 

download as .zip!

(via fuckyeahemiliaclarke)

(via imgfave)

fauns: 'about me' description. →

danseurs:

I always tend to be ricocheting between both daydreams and reality, never really belonging to any of them. I live in perpetual loneliness, in dreams and reverie, whimsical fantasies of make-belief, swathed in gardens of rose and lavender, skies imbued with a pink haze, a peachy gold, speckled…

View high resolution

lookbookdotnu:

Arm Cuffs (Giveaway!) (by Ariadna Majewska)

the-absolute-best-posts:

 Submitted by face—the—strange

Follow this blog, you will love it on your dashboard

emmaroberts-:

The gorgeous Emma Roberts ;) @tylershields #mouthful @KatieKat

Drogba’s Dream: The Last Charge of the Ancients

afootballreport:

By Jordan Brown

Didier Drogba emerged from the confines of his tent to the thrum of a busy camp. All around him the army of Chelsea were preparing for war. Infantrymen were rushing to formation, their tall pikes bobbing rhythmically as they ran. Plated warhorses stomped and bit at paiges checking the readiness of mounts, bowmen were fitting their strings and chatting nervously in small circles while the sounds of grinding steel poured from the row of armorers keening the edges of hundreds. Smoke and fire, sweat and leather, wood and steel, Drogba closed his eyes and breathed in deep - savoring the air of battle. It would be his last.

The thought of his waiting men broke him from his reverie and he set off, joining the rushing humanity of the camp. The blue livery of his army made like a river flowing down muddy paths, wearing the telling lines of man’s device into the rich green valleys of Bavaria.

It was a miracle they were even moving at all. Not so long before the army had been in Catalonia, and the experience had nearly ended them. The whole of the known world had expected them to falter in the Spanish leg of their campaign. Wave after wave of Barcelona’s attacks had broken upon their ranks. Halfway through their battle, the venerable Iniesta led his troops into a thrust which had seemingly put the Londoners paid. But tired and outnumbered, the strength of The Blues remained steadfast, and they found that their resolution outlasted the Blaugranas, and the late charge of the nigh forgotten General Torres shocked living world of their expectations. Chelsea would march from victory to Munchen.

Read More

View high resolution

(via ohcardigan)

(Source: bruisedbluenana)

26/100 ♦ Rashida Jones

K

(via fuckyeahrashida)