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reblogthis-if: requested

reblogthis-if:

requested

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  • 270 notes
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    Oh my gosh, I wish I would’ve known I needed Kleenex. This was the dose of ‘Stelena’ I have needed for months!!! 

    Oh my gosh, I wish I would’ve known I needed Kleenex. This was the dose of ‘Stelena’ I have needed for months!!! 

    (Source: fairy-tale-stories)

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  • 41 notes
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    "

    Oh, and Stefan/Elena fans — if you were bummed out by last week’s “Delena” focus, cease your Twitter death threats. This Thursday, it’s your turn.

    OH THANK GOD. I was seriously getting down. I need a good Stelena episode. It’s been TO LONG.

    "
    Zap2it (via -stelena-)
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  • 12 notes
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    The BLOGilates Project…

    So, every woman has her flaws, and we are harder on ourselves than anyone. My flaws are only one that I detest the most; my dancer’s body has all but disappeared after having ballet danced for 10 years. I’ve gotten horribly soft and as much as I love my hourglass figure, it’s spilling over my jeans a bit these days. However, in the last 6 months I’ve been swing dancing once a week for four hours at a time. Now that I’ve gone back to my seasonal job (on a very beautiful island), I am more motivated than ever to get in shape. Saturday, I biked 20 miles in one day and yesterday began my running at 1 mile. Starting tomorrow, I will blog daily on my progress.

    Day 1: Planning and following Cassey’s BLOGilates meal plan will start tomorrow morning at 9am.

    Supplements: 8 oz. protein shake each morning,  50mg Vitamin E each twice a day, B-complex once a day, 100mg of Zinc per day, and 50 mg of Iron once per day. 

    Exercise begins tomorrow at 7am: 1/2 mile run. 

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    #BOOM Pregnant. Gladly.

    #BOOM Pregnant. Gladly.

    (Source: everydayisahollandaise)

    #derek hough
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    I’m just going to say it…

    I desperately miss some Stelena. Seriously, I’m not sure I can wait until Thursday for the next Vampire Diaries. I’m dying here. 

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  • 1 notes
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    "Reblog If You Love Stelena"
    (via let-me-be-your-it-girl)
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    Ballroom Dance: an intimate connection between two strangers or the merging of two old souls. 

    Ballroom Dance: an intimate connection between two strangers or the merging of two old souls. 

    (Source: statuvariabilis)

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  • 34 notes
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    This, is how get my dance on. 

    This, is how get my dance on. 

    #dance
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    I met this guy. And I met him at the most inconvenient time; post bad break-up. Post semi-abusive relationship. Pre-self healing. Strength hardened my demeanor. I decided to pick up the pieces of my heart again and the only thing I could think to repair my soul was to dance. Dance is home, dancing is where my heart lives. So, I went dancing. Every tuesday of every week for months. I met him on a fuzzy night, that involved fruity drinks and mirrors. But I had noticed him long before that, he was full of passion and yet an ease that calmed me. It was like my soul went, ‘oh, where have you been?’. So I waited, for the opportune moment. It took a dance, a tango. Just a few minutes in his arms was enough. The chemistry was palpable and my senses were on edge. An edge that makes you want to cry and laugh at the same time. It was hope and familiarity that lingered. I moved on, like I always do. On to my job, to an island to repair my soul in the straits. The waves called to me, and the wind beckoned me outside to feel it’s cool caress, to weave itself through my hair. I boarded a ferry, all my life on a cart and moved like I always do north to that island. There were only mentions of rumors. And then the phone rang, a position hired and just like that he placed himself into my future, daily life. Two aspects of my world collided and the smile that bubbles just below the surface waits, coy and unassuming. God speaks to my heart a silent hope, ‘he could be the one, just be patient and all will reveal itself in time child’. 

    I met this guy. And I met him at the most inconvenient time; post bad break-up. Post semi-abusive relationship. Pre-self healing. Strength hardened my demeanor. I decided to pick up the pieces of my heart again and the only thing I could think to repair my soul was to dance. Dance is home, dancing is where my heart lives. So, I went dancing. Every tuesday of every week for months. I met him on a fuzzy night, that involved fruity drinks and mirrors. But I had noticed him long before that, he was full of passion and yet an ease that calmed me. It was like my soul went, ‘oh, where have you been?’. So I waited, for the opportune moment. It took a dance, a tango. Just a few minutes in his arms was enough. The chemistry was palpable and my senses were on edge. An edge that makes you want to cry and laugh at the same time. It was hope and familiarity that lingered. I moved on, like I always do. On to my job, to an island to repair my soul in the straits. The waves called to me, and the wind beckoned me outside to feel it’s cool caress, to weave itself through my hair. I boarded a ferry, all my life on a cart and moved like I always do north to that island. There were only mentions of rumors. And then the phone rang, a position hired and just like that he placed himself into my future, daily life. Two aspects of my world collided and the smile that bubbles just below the surface waits, coy and unassuming. God speaks to my heart a silent hope, ‘he could be the one, just be patient and all will reveal itself in time child’. 

    (Source: anastasiaanita)

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  • 30 notes