a-labyrithn-blog

[a-labyrithn-blog]

not gonna be active here anymore. moving to a sideblog on a different blog. hmu for the url if you want.

[a-labyrithn-blog]

Andrea Mantegna, Saint Sebastian (1456-1459, 1480, 1490)

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New/Old Picture of Kellan

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Kellan Lutz | Attractive Men

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          ❛ yeah,  well. ❜  she catches it with ease,  then goes to his side,  peering at the car with interest.  ❛ bad day.  bell and i are fighting,  is all.  what’s wrong with her? ❜ 

❝     ‘m  guessin’  ‘e’s  right  about  whatever  y’  fightin’  about.   y’  wouldn’  let  ‘im  have  ‘t  so  easy,   otherwise.     ❞     there  might  be  something  akin  to  a  hum  in  his  throat,   were  it  not  for  the  fact  that  dominic  toretto  doesn’t  know  how  to  make  so  soft  a  sound;   he  rumbles,   as  an  idling  engine,   deep  within  his  chest.     ❝     —————     rod  knock.   some  jackass  tries  t’  pull  tricks  in  ‘is  fuckin’  subaru,   doesn’  oil  th’  rig,   knocks  all  th’  rod  bolts  loose.     ❞

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Because I’m always away, coming home to a clean house means a lot to me. Trust me, I’ve lived with a lot of roommates, and straight guys are just kids who don’t pick up after themselves.

[a-labyrithn-blog]

“–commander cullen, i’m curious. did you ever serve in a circle?“

❝     —————     councilor  marsden.   i  thought  that  was  common  knowledge  among  the  inquisition?   i’ve  served  in  two:   lake  calenhad’s,   and     —————     ❞     his  throat  closes  momentarily,   as  though  to  speak  both  names  in  succession  might  make  a  ruin  of  his  mouth.     ❝     —————     a---and  kirkwall’s.   why  do  you  ask?     ❞ 

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i bare my teeth and guard what’s mine, ready to die if it means keeping them safe

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Max + final shots per season

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don’t get it twisted like i respect bugs for being the best they can be in spite of their specific assigned flesh prisons and their ecological significance but they need to stay the fuck away from me 

[a-labyrithn-blog]

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this is early morning rising, heart pounding and hands shaking, closing your eyes and praying that today will be better - this is a headache like a vise on your skull, your aching muscles, your throat closing - this is learning pleas in every language you can find, learning help me, learningi’m trapped, learning it’s worse this time - this is your paranoia, this is your fear, this is your ghost standing over you, this is your bleeding hands at 2 am because i just couldn’t stop scratching - this is endless, this is your life, this is the decaying dust of your bones -

UNFINISHED // s. mardon (via crimescened)

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He had the type of eyes that could hold the sun, the moon, and the stars. His eyes held galaxies, universes, time itself.

(via flattening–of–emotions)

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Marina & The Diamonds - Homewrecker

[a-labyrithn-blog]

“–him? that’s who you’re choosing for dinner?”

cue the judgmental look. maybe low sees some- thing iah doesn’t see, but that guy doesn’t look tasty at all. maybe it’s a meat versus blood thing.

❝     you  got  a  preference?     ❞     cue  a  derisive  scoff!  at  the  back  of  his  mouth,   coupled  with  a  full  rotation  of  his  eyes     —————     thumb  hooked  beneath  backpack  strap  adjusting  impatiently.     ❝     it  don’  matter,   man!   we  all  made  outta  th’  same  stuff!   you  scared  ‘is  blood’s  gon’  taste  as  fuckin’  miserable  as  ‘e  looks?     ❞ 

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Don’t Stop Me Now | Queen