life of a spectator

wesley. too old to bother, too young to care.

[horrorfixxx]

[onthemouth-blog]

best

[fuckyeahchinomoreno]

Chino Moreno joins System of a Down on stage during Toxicity at RockInRio 9.24.15

[onthemouth-blog]

this song

[onthemouth-blog]

a real summer record

[lady-meera-reed]

{make me choose meme}

ladiesofthrones asked: Ashara Dayne or Arianne Martell

“And what is it I want, ser?”

“The Sand Snakes freed. Vengeance for Oberyn and Elia. Do I know the song? You want a little taste of lion blood.”

That, and my birthright. I want Sunspear, and my father’s seat. I want Dorne. “I want justice.” ― The Queenmaker, A Feast for Crows.

[tastefullyoffensive]

The official lineup of the Homaroo festival. (image via happyplace)

[its-uptome]

[bericdondarrion]

[onthemouth-blog]

Oberyn was ever the viper. Deadly, dangerous, unpredictable. No man dared tread on him. I was the grass. Pleasant, complaisant, sweet-smelling, swaying with every breeze. Who fears to walk upon the grass? But it is the grass that hides the viper from his enemies and shelters him until he strikes.

             ( for the-nights-king ♥ )

[fenharel]

[onthemouth-blog]

“Someone told,” Hotah had said. The memory still made her angry. Arianne clung to that, feeding the flame within her heart. Anger was better than tears, better than grief, better than guilt. Someone told, someone she had trusted. Arys Oakheart had died because of that, slain by the traitor’s whisper as much as by the captain’s axe. The blood that had streamed down Myrcella’s face, that was the betrayer’s work as well. Someone told, someone she had loved. That was the cruelest cut of all.

requested my anonymous

my girl

[titansdaughter]

⚜ Skulls. A thousand skulls, and the bastard boy again. Jon Snow. Whenever she was asked what she saw within her fires, Melisandre would answer, “Much and more,” but seeing was never as simple as those words suggested. It was an art, and like all arts it demanded mastery, discipline, study. Pain. That too. R'hllor spoke to his chosen ones through blessed fire, in a language of ash and cinder and twisting flame that only a god could truly grasp. Melisandre had practiced her art for years beyond count, and she had paid the price. There was no one, even in her order, who had her skill at seeing the secrets half-revealed and half-concealed within the sacred flames. Yet now she could not even seem to find her king. I pray for a glimpse of Azor Ahai, and R'hllor shows me only Snow.

[onthemouth-blog]

boom

[onthemouth-blog]

[lorrgana]

[onthemouth-blog]

[iheartgot]

[queenjld]

Cecily Strong at the 2015 White House Correspondents’ Dinner

[smartgirlsattheparty]

MIC DROP

[onthemouth-blog]

this song/record is A+

[kehlso]