i'm (a lil bit) back

beatriz. nineteen. portugal. do u ever cry over gareth bale bc same

[rumplestiltskin]

My fellow Americans, it has been the honor of my life to serve you. I won’t stop; in fact, I will be right there with you, as a citizen, for all my days that remain. For now, whether you’re young or young at heart, I do have one final ask of you as your President - the same thing I asked when you took a chance on me eight years ago. I am asking you to believe. Not in my ability to bring about change - but in yours. I am asking you to hold fast to that faith written into our founding documents; that idea whispered by slaves and abolitionists; that spirit sung by immigrants and homesteaders and those who marched for justice; that creed reaffirmed by those who planted flags from foreign battlefields to the surface of the moon; a creed at the core of every American whose story is not yet written: Yes We Can. Yes We Did. Yes We Can. THANK YOU, PRESIDENT BARACK OBAMA FOR EIGHT AMAZING YEARS [2008-2016]

[daniscarvajals-blog]

let’s talk character development

[daniscarvajals-blog]

someone: don't overreact

me, already digging my grave and shovelling dirt on myself: i'm not

[brotticelli]

i. the sky begins to burn. you learn that death is not a hooded figure on a black horse. death drives a burnt-out mustang and travels in packs, and looks like the faces of all the people you used to know.  ii. the pavements fill with ash that floats from the heavens and clings to your eyelashes and sticks in your throat, and you look at the sky and try not to see. it is easier for empty skylines to shine in pupils that are already slick with oil. iii. it comes for everyone in the end, crawling across the countryside like the family dog on its last legs. green forests turn black. swing sets, unused, rot in back gardens, paint flaking and drifting to the scorched earth. metal turns to rust.   iv. you pull at your hair and scream until your voice is gone. your face becomes haggard and your eyes darkened by things you do and things you see. you watch the bodies as they are cut open, and you are not surprised when they are empty on the inside. v. the red matts in your hair and your nails grow longer and bloodier with each passing moon. your mouth tastes of bullets and your ears tell of screeching metal and crying children, of wide-eyed innocents and laboured breathing, slipping away in the dark. vi. your teeth get sharper and you bare your fangs, lick the dripping red from your wrist and enjoy it. your eyes glow as you wipe your knife on your thigh, leaving trails of rust on the skin, and you smirk. vii. desire creeps out from the cracks in the ground and counts your ribs one by one, runs pointed nails down the emaciated lines of your bones, uses once-delicate fingers to tear at veins, arteries, throats. your quivering hands became steady, your knives and your nails remain bloody. the sky continues to burn.

postcards from the end of the world (via brotticelli)

[daniscarvajals-blog]

in other news im cute

[daniscarvajals-blog]

in this week’s episode of “bea’s anxiety is ruining her life and she can’t take it anymore”: When Will Death Take Me Into Her Cold Loveless Arms

[official-portugal]

saga of the century

[vice-established]

Portugal Euro 2016 Finalists 

[98libras]

it’s just so amazing how some people crack under the pressure and take on defeatist attitudes and then you have cristiano ronaldo who has the pressure of the entire football world on him and he takes it in and uses it as motivation to be better. and he always comes out the winner.

[daniscarvajals-blog]

unpopular opinion, i dont miss club football in literally any way im having a blast with this euro and its dumb penalties and Drama, and yall salty suckers who keep talking shit about portugal can meet me in the pit, see yall in the final xoxo

[greelin]

i have no concept of what is too much affection or too little affection like it constantly feels like i’m somehow simultaneously doing both too much and not enough with every single person i come into contact with and that’s a real party

[inthenameofsephiroth]

“What is a valonqar? Some monster?” The golden girl did not like that foretelling. // “It’s High Valyrian, it means little brother.” She had asked Septa Saranella about the word, after Melara drowned. 

[jaimelannistre-archived]

                                   a n d  t a k e  a l l  t h a t  y o u  h o l d  d e a r

[theworldsmosthatedakacr7]

I’ve seen many of you don’t know why Cristiano threw the mic into the lake so here’s a bit of an explanation.

The man was the reporter/journalist of Portugal network, Correio de Manha. Cristiano has a very long troubled history with them. Their constant lying, not only about him but his family lead to Ronaldo boycotting them years ago. They still keep attacking him, his family, also Portugal NT. We’re talking about the network who practically claimed Cristiano was a pedofil.

For these reasons they’re banned from the camp of Portugal so they shouldn’t have been there to start with, let alone harass any of the players.

[daniscarvajals-blog]

guys. correio da manhã is utter and complete garbage. everyone in portugal either hates them or is weirdly mesmerised by how immensely stupid they are. honestly, the whole country would have thrown both the mic and the journalist into the water with #noragrets.

[daniscarvajals-blog]

started from benitez now we here :’)

[daniscarvajals-blog]

a concept for y’all: isco and toni fucking under the milan stars with their ucl medals around their necks.

thank you, my work here is done.

[madridistaforever]

Ramos and Marcelo celebrate winning the 2016 Champions League with their kids