my feet are dirty

Quotes from celebrities with your moon sign

Aries: Salvador Dalí: “Intelligence without ambition is a bird without wings.”

Taurus: Mother Teresa: “Be faithful in small things because it is in them that your strength lies.”

Gemini: Sigmund Freud: "Words have a magical power. They can bring either the greatest happiness or deepest despair; they can transfer knowledge from teacher to student; words enable the orator to sway his audience and dictate its decisions.”

Cancer: Isaac Newton: "To myself I am only a child playing on the beach, while vast oceans of truth lie undiscovered before me.”

Leo: Mahatma Gandhi: "I will not let anyone walk through my mind with their dirty feet.”

Virgo: Stephen Hawking: "One of the basic rules of the universe is that nothing is perfect. Perfection simply doesn’t exist…Without imperfection, neither you nor I would exist.”

Libra: William Shakespeare: "There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.”

Scorpio: Nelson Mandela: "I am not a saint, unless you think of a saint as a sinner who keeps on trying.”

Sagittarius: Albert Einstein: "The world as we have created it is a process of our thinking. It cannot be changed without changing our thinking.”

Capricorn: Ernest Hemingway: "The first and final thing you have to do in this world is to last it and not be smashed by it.”

Aquarius: Voltaire: "The secret of being a bore is to tell everything.”

Pisces: Leonardo DaVinci: "Why does the eye see more clearly when asleep than the imagination when awake?”

✧ ( 13RW SENTENCE STARTERS.

warning: triggers apply. mentions of suicide and rape present. read and reblog with caution.

❛ And this time, absolutely no requests. ❜
❛ No return engagements. No encore. ❜
❛ I hope you’re ready, because I’m about to tell you the story of my life.  ❜
❛ And if you’re listening to these tapes, you’re one of the reasons why. ❜
❛ I’ve heard so many stories I don’t know which one is the most popular.  ❜
❛ Betrayal. It’s one of the worst feelings.  ❜
❛ Where’s my bike? ❜
❛ This was in front of the library? ❜
❛ What about the student honor board? ❜
❛ There’s some justice and some closure. ❜
❛ I couldn’t watch. ❜
❛ People can be fucking assholes. ❜
❛ I thought we had like another week for that. ❜
❛ Listen, I could, if you wanted to, I could help you finish the paper. ❜
❛ We only have like twenty minutes before the first bell rings. ❜
❛ I Googled everything. ❜
❛ Well the founding father’s did grow and use hemp, but it wasn’t weed exactly. ❜
❛ Sometimes books are more reliable for this kind of stuff. ❜
❛ Everything I publish is personal to people. ❜
❛ Still, it feels wrong. I’m just being honest. ❜
❛ What are you working on? ❜
❛ This is so cool. I’ve always wanted to set you up with someone. ❜
❛ Maybe I was stupid to keep hoping. ❜
❛ That is shocking. I’m shocked. ❜
❛ Wait a second, how do I know you’re telling the truth. ❜
❛ Come on, what do you say? ❜
❛ Then again, they almost always do. ❜
❛ Did you want to see if the rumors were true? ❜
❛ Why did you do it? ❜
❛ Thanks for helping me, that was really nice. ❜
❛ I’m just saying if you’re getting fat shamed then don’t be fat. ❜
❛ It’s always best to give compliments face to face. ❜
❛ Sometimes the silly things can mean more than anybody knows. ❜
❛ It’s kind of soul crushing, you know? ❜
❛ We all need it. Human contact. ❜
❛ You’re going to have to wait, just like I did. ❜
❛ Let me know if you need to talk, anytime. ❜
❛ I’m going to play mind games with you, just like you did with me. ❜
❛ That’s a whole new level of lonely. ❜
❛ You were kind that night. You just sat there. ❜
❛ I’m sorry about _____. He’s/she’s just a dick. ❜
❛ Want to see a trick? ❜
❛ You got to get the positioning just right. ❜
❛ After the way you played in Saturday, it’s on me. ❜
❛ Take it easy, okay? You’ll feel better tomorrow. ❜
❛ I wonder if you ever felt what it’s like to be lonely. ❜
❛ Have you ever noticed us? ❜
❛ How many of these did daddy make you? ❜
❛ It’s okay. I’m over it. ❜
❛ I never got the chance to say something. ❜
❛ The thing is you were the Valentine I was hoping for. ❜
❛ I don’t know if you’re doing this on a dare or whatever… ❜
❛ I like you for so much more than that. ❜
❛ The fact that you don’t even know. ❜
❛ This shit that happens to you, I think some of it you bring on yourself. ❜
❛ Thanks for the insight genius. ❜
❛ You said something stupid and I yelled at you. Big deal. ❜
❛ You didn’t like that someone told you no. ❜
❛ You should of just let it go but you didn’t. ❜
❛ I just needed to be alone. ❜
❛ You’ll do anything to keep up your perfect reputation. ❜
❛ I’m a fucking weak, pathetic loser. ❜
❛ They’ll just laugh at you like they always do. ❜
❛ Come out, come out, little girl/boy. ❜
❛ We’re protecting ourselves. ❜
❛ I’ve got no plans. I’m good to tell the truth. ❜
❛ It’s only a matter of time before we’re all screwed. ❜
❛ Nothing we did compares to what he/she did. ❜
❛ You’ve been doing it for weeks now. ❜
❛ My God, _______, you should fucking listen to yourself sometimes. ❜
❛ You want to know what’s worse then being a rapist? Hiding behind one. ❜
❛ You want to get the story straight? We all know the story. ❜
❛ The honor board, because you are all so honorable. ❜
❛ This happened off campus so the only alternative is the police. ❜
❛ It was no ones fault. It just happened. ❜
❛ I mean, maybe I was driving a little too fast. ❜
❛ I’m taking some fucking responsibility. ❜
❛ Maybe it’s all your faults, has that ever occurred to any of you? ❜
❛ Who’s going to believe a dead girl/boy? ❜
❛ You know my motto, no cheerleader left behind. ❜
❛ I’m always looking for the wrong person. ❜
❛ I thought you said you didn’t do it? ❜
❛ I’m telling you, the worst is yet to come. ❜
❛ You’re calling me a pussy, after what you did or didn’t do. ❜
❛ Oh, so, if I kill myself then I kill you guys too? ❜
❛ Why are you asking me about this? ❜
❛ I don’t know what your truth is. ❜
❛ Get your dirty ass feet off my notebook man. ❜
❛ Do you want to talk in there? ❜
❛ Maybe there’s even a message from beyond. ❜
❛ At that moment, everything was perfect. ❜
❛ I know you felt it too. ❜
❛ I wanted you to do everything you were doing. ❜
❛ What happened? I thought it was okay. ❜
❛ Just leave me alone, you should just go. ❜
❛ Part of me never wanted to see you again. ❜
❛ You walked out the door like I told you too, why’d you have to leave? ❜
❛ Your name does not belong on the list. But you need to be here. ❜
❛ I didn’t deserve to be with someone like you. ❜
❛ I would ruin you. It wasn’t you, it was me. ❜
❛ There’s that word again. ❜
❛ The kind of lonely feeling I’m talking about is when you feel like you’ve got nothing left. ❜

Sansa and Arya
  • “What could you want to see?” Sansa said, annoyed. She had been thrilled by the invitation, and her stupid sister was going to ruin everything, just as she’d feared. 
  • Sansa knew all about the sorts of people Arya liked to talk to: squires and grooms and serving girls, old men and naked children, rough-spoken freeriders of uncertain birth. Arya would make friends with anybody. This Mycah was the worst; a butcher’s boy, thirteen and wild, he slept in the meat wagon and smelled of the slaughtering block. Just the sight of him was enough to make Sansa feel sick.
  • “Gods be true, Arya, sometimes you act like such a child,” Sansa said. “I’ll go by myself then. It will be ever so much nicer that way. Lady and I will eat all the lemon cakes and just have the best time without you.”
  • Sansa lifted her head. “It will be a splendid event. You shan’t be wanted.”
  • “Go ahead, call me all the names you want,” Sansa said airily. “You won’t dare when I’m married to Joffrey. You’ll have to bow to me and call me Your Grace.”
  • “You’re horrible,” she screamed at her sister. “They should have killed you instead of Lady!”
  • The blood orange had left a blotchy red stain on the silk. “I hate her!” she screamed. She balled up the dress and flung it into the cold hearth, on top of the ashes of last night’s fire. When she saw that the stain had bled through onto her underskirt, she began to sob despite herself. She ripped off the rest of her clothes wildly, threw herself into bed, and cried herself back to sleep.
  • Arya started it,“ Sansa said quickly, anxious to have the first word. "She called me a liar and threw an orange at me and spoiled my dress, the ivory silk, the one Queen Cersei gave me when I was betrothed to Prince Joffrey. She hates that I’m going to marry the prince. She tries to spoil everything, Father, she can’t stand for anything to be beautiful or nice or splendid.”
  • "Then I’ll … make you a new one,” Arya said.Sansa threw back her head in disdain. “You? You couldn’t sew a dress fit to clean the pigsties.”
  • “I’m not like Arya,” Sansa blurted. “She has the traitor’s blood, not me. I’m good, ask Septa Mordane, she’ll tell you, I only want to be Joffrey’s loyal and loving wifeIt was not until later that night, as she was drifting off to sleep, that
  • Sansa realized she had forgotten to ask about her sister.
  • Sansa found herself thinking of Lady again. She could smell out falsehood, she could, but she was dead, Father had killed her, on account of Arya.
  • Sansa had once dreamt of having a sister like Margaery; beautiful and gentle, with all the world’s graces at her command. Arya had been entirely unsatisfactory as sisters went. 
  • She wanted to tease Bran and play with baby Rickon and have Robb smile at her. She wanted Jon to muss up her hair and call her "little sister” and finish her sentences with her. But all of them were gone. She had no one left but Sansa, and Sansa wouldn’t even talk to her unless Father made her.
  • She went to the window seat and sat there, sniffling, hating them all, and herself most of all. It was all her fault, everything bad that had happened. Sansa said so, and Jeyne too.
  • “I’m sore all over,” Arya reported happily, proudly displaying a huge purple bruise on her leg.“You must be a terrible dancer,” Sansa said
  • “It won’t be so bad, Sansa,” Arya said. “We’re going to sail on a galley. It will be an adventure, and then we’ll be with Bran and Robb again, and Old Nan and Hodor and the rest.” She touched her on the arm.“Hodor!” Sansa yelled. “You ought to marry Hodor, you’re just like him, stupid and hairy and ugly!” She wrenched away from her sister’s hand, stormed into her bedchamber, and barred the door behind her.
  • Arya looked down at her ragged clothes and bare feet, all cracked and callused. She saw the dirt under her nails, the scabs on her elbows, the scratches on her hands. Septa Mordane wouldn’t even know me, I bet. Sansa might, but she’d pretend not to. 
  • When she thought of seeing Robb’s face again Arya had to bite her lip. And I want to see Jon too, and Bran and Rickon, and Mother. Even Sansa … I’ll kiss her and beg her pardons like a proper lady, she’ll like that.
  • So the singer played for her, so soft and sad that Arya only heard snatches of the words, though the tune was half-familiar. Sansa would know it, I bet. Her sister had known all the songs, and she could even play a little, and sing so sweetly. All I could ever do was shout the words.
  • “Well," Arya said, "my hair’s messy and my nails are dirty and my feet are all hard.” Robb wouldn’t care about that, probably, but her mother would. Lady Catelyn always wanted her to be like Sansa, to sing and dance and sew and mind her courtesies. Just thinking of it made Arya try to comb her hair with her fingers, but it was all tangles and mats, and all she did was tear some out.
  • Lommy had called her Lumpyhead, Sansa used Horseface, and her father’s men once dubbed her Arya Underfoot, but she did not think any of those were the sort of name he wanted.
  • Her sister came back to see if she was hurt. When she said she wasn’t, Arya hit her in the face with another snowball, but Sansa grabbed her leg and pulled her down and was rubbing snow in her hair when Jory came along and pulled them apart, laughing.
  • Sansa did not know what had happened to Jeyne, who had disappeared from her rooms afterward, never to be mentioned again. She tried not to think of them too often, yet sometimes the memories came unbidden, and then it was hard to hold back the tears. Once in a while, Sansa even missed her sister.


- Just because the ~discourse~ has resurfaced and people are forgetting there are legitimate issues for the girls to work out between themselves. 

I Will Not Let You Fly Away From Me...(James March X Fem!Reader)

a|n: so guys, I am back on track! I used to run “@imagineslut33″, but upon an ufortunate sequence of events, my account got hacked and deleted…Sad, I know. But meh, I created this blog and I will be posting on it. I missed you all. Honestly, I hope you guys haven’t forgotten me, and still enjoy my writing! 

summary: After finding out what James had done in the past to his Holden, John Lowe kidnaps the reader, and tortures her. At Devil’s Night, he finally decides to kill her…But what he wasn’t expecting, was that March would rather miss his glorious dinner to save his beloved wife…

trigger warning: contais gore, torture and swearing. 

recommended song during your reading: skinny love by birdy


Originally posted by evanpeterscharacters


Darkness…

My name is (Y/N). Yes, (Y/N) March, the wife of the successful businessman James P. March, owner of the Cortez, a hotel in Los Angeles. I was abducted. I think I’ve been here for about seven days, but this isn’t an exact projection. I might be here much longer or even less. I don’t know, I’ve lost track of time down here. All I have left is the darkness and dripping wetness of this nightmare that I am at. My head hurts. I feel very cold. I’m here, trapped, inside this dark, filthy , tight, stifling hole … I know I’m here because of James.


I have never done bad, evil things. I have always helped people, close or far, I have participated in charity events, I donate a lot of money to the poor, I finance works of art and academics from those who could not, I have always acted with fairness and ethics at work, and especially in the family. I don’t deserve this… I’m stunned. I don’t wanna credit someone to whom I have done good, this cruel, violent and inhuman act of putting an individual under these conditions in which I find myself at.

I believe that I’ve done something wrong, involuntarily.- I think it would be a horrible punishment, an unacceptable torture even for the worst criminal. And yet, here I am. In a hole about half a meter in diameter and ten deep. Walls of a black smelly land, as if it were sewage. Yeah, maybe that’s right: given the depth of where I am and the poorly finished walls of the place.

My head seems to want to explode. Darkness obviously affects my visual perception of things, my reasoning, my ability to disagree…I have not eaten well for a long time. Before, they’d throw pieces of bread, some fruits already eaten or rotted… water? Only when it comes from some corner of this hole, and then I have to lean my tongue against the wall to suck the black cauldron that flows, with putrid taste and bitter as gall. But this is what is keeping me alive in these days (or hours?).

I don’t remember how I ended up down here…

The last thing I remember, before waking up in this fucking chamber of terror, is to be crossing the street to get into the Cortez, and hearing someone calling me by my name. As I turned around, I felt someone gripping my arm and the blow made me faint. Thick ropes tie my wrists and ankles, and however great my efforts, the most I can do is getting hurt. 

Impossible to escape from this trap. Brilliant and sadistic! I’m not gagged. So I scream! I scream for hours. Every now and then, I hear laughter, far away. Pure mockery of my meager efforts. I’m tired, hungry, weak, almost ragged. I can’t take it anymore. 

I’m going to faint right here…

*

Hours Later…

Originally posted by dinsintegration

I feel my body shaking, which makes me wake up startled. I cannot see. I guess I’m blindfolded. By the continuous swing, I am able to deduce that I am sitting in the backseat of some car.

“I am glad you’re awake, little one.”

The voice that I hear gives me shivers. A knot begins to form in my throat and my skin acquires an even paler tone.

“John?” I am able to whisper with a shaky voice. The gag doesn’t allow me to yell, though.

“I’m sorry for everything I’ve put you through, (Y/N). It kills me to know it had to be you. But you know your husband destroyed my life…Unstructured my entire family. I need to get my revenge, (Y/N). I know, I know! You’ve always supported me, heard me when I needed to rent, were my shoulder to cry on…” John stayed in silence for a few, it seemed as if he was trying not to cry. “You have to forgive me. I really thought about killing Elizabeth instead, but it wouldn’t work out. It would never work out. You are March’s newest obssession, the only light that shine through the darkness of his pathetic post-death immortal life.” 

Originally posted by akamatthewmurdock

“GOD DAMN IT! COULD YOU PLEASE STOP CRYING, (Y/N)?” John yelled, making me cry harder. God, I wanna stop, but I can’t…I am too weak…

I feel the car braking abruptly…

“I am so sorry…but I can’t stand seeing you in that way…I love you…” John says before opening the door, closing it with certain violence. Then, I hear him opening the trunk, and the silence prevails for about twenty minutes, I am not sure about the exact time. 

Moments later, the door next to me is open and John roughly pulls me out by my arm. A muffled scream escapes my throat as I’m dragged to god knows where. It rains a lot, and the mud dirties my bare feet. John whispers a few words sweetly, wrapping me in a tight hug. So he pushes me. I fall backwards into a deep hole.

  Judging by the soft earth and the tight environment, it is a grave. I despair. I feel the earth hitting my skin. I’m being buried alive. I begin to consider a faster death, like a shot in the head. This is macabre stuff… 

And suddenly, all the unforgettable memories with James come flashing into my disturbed mind. How cruel he could be with other people, but how kind and romantic he was with me. James was the first man who gave me flowers, who besides telling me, show me and make me feel how beautiful I am. He made me feel a strong, sensual, independent woman. Many consider him a monster, but I knew his innocent side. A path with no return. Because a villain, is nothing but a victim whose story has never been told.” 

John keeps throwing down the earth, and eventually I stop struggling. Soon, the mud is already hitting my face. Yup, I’m going to die right here…

Originally posted by human-perfectibility

“You traitorous bastard!”

I hear the piercing voice and my husband’s striking accent echoing through the thunders that cut through LA’s nightly sky. His words are filled with hatred, and the weight of betrayal seems to weigh on his shoulders. John Lowe. The man who James trusted, now stabbed him on the back. He was a perfect illusion. 

Punching, growling, jerking and shrieking can be heard from within the grave, and my heart races,violently hammering my chest. 

Finally, I feel a gentle, kind of desperate touch gripping my arm, gently pulling me into a man’s lap. My man. My James. 


Originally posted by softlysaygoodbye

The blindfold that is tied around my eyes is ripped off, along with the gag. Tears fall from my eyes, trickling down my face, my skin dirty from lack of hygiene. A relieved scream escapes my throat as I feel James’s strong arms being tightly wrapped around my waist.

“Darling, I am right here. I am so sorry I ever let this happen to you.” He says softly, pulling my face to press against his chest, probably being shameful of his tears.  

“James…It’s Halloween, what about Devil’s Night?” I ask through my tears, slightly shaking. 

“I couldn’t care less about Devil’s Night, my dear!” James mutters, a tone of disbelief in his voice. “You are far more important than anything else, (Y/N). I promise that he will never harm you again. Do not worry your pretty head about that, sweetheart.” 

“I love you, James. So much…” 

James gently scoops me up, bridal style. He kisses my forehead, starting to slowly walk away from that horrible place. 

“Come, darling. It is time for you to go home.”