on most day's she's beautiful

To All WLW: Life is tough. It’s no secret. A lot of us feel alone and as if no one could and will ever love us. We fear we will never have a girlfriend for personal reasons whether it is because we have stretchmarks, mental illnesses, or diabetes, etc. but i promise you, one day you will find the most beautiful girl and she will love you. You will be loved more than you could ever imagine. There will be times in your life where you feel low and you may feel like life is not worth living and you’re allowed to feel like that. However, life is worth living. A lot of the time it feels like it would be easier to stop existing but then you wont get to see the stars shine in the dark night sky. You wont get to experience the sun rise. You wont get to expereince the wind blowing in your hair as you hold your girlfriends hand as you walk throught the park. You wont get to feel the grass on your feet in your backgarden of you and your girlfriend’s house. You won’t get to see the look on her face when you get down on one knee as ask her to spend the rest of her life with you. You wont get to experience hearing the waves crash onto the beach at your honeymoon with your beautiful wife. You wont get to experience growing old with someone. You won’t get to experience laughter with your wife and loving her. You won’t get to experience loving someone the way you love her. There are a lot of reasons not to give up. There are a lot of reasons to carry on and live the life you were given. It may be hard at times but promise me you won’t hurt yourself. Don’t be hard on yourself, learn to forgive yourself when you mess up. Take care and stay safe. It’s worth it. I promise.

My wife is the most beautiful woman I know

Not because she conforms to my definition of beauty.

But because my definition of beauty conforms to her.

Fall in love with a writer and she will remember every moment, every second she spent with you. Fall in love with a writer and she will keep those memories because one day she will want to write her love story with you and share it to the world. Fall in love with a writer and she will make the most painful day she ever had becomes a beautiful memory and made into book of tragedy with a beautiful pain. Those who read her writings will feel how much she was in love with you and how lost she felt when she lost you. And one day, people will talk about her book, how heart-breaking it is, and suddenly it becomes a movie. Your new girl wants to see the movie without knowing that it is about you and her. Seeing the movie, you remember again a lot of things. The day you met her, the way she tucked her hair behind her ear, the way she dance around whenever she was happy when no one was looking, you remember again all the things that made you fall for her. And you don’t know what to do about it because you threw her away years ago.
—  Excerpt from the book I’ll never write #53

TID APPRECIATION WEEK (day 1, favorite character)

He had the most beautiful face she had ever seen. Tangled black hair and eyes like blue glass. Elegant cheekbones, a full mouth, and long, thick lashes. Even the curve of his throat was perfect. He looked like every fictional hero she’d ever conjured up in her head.

don’t let anybody tell you you’re any less than what you are!! you are important, and you deserve to be treated that way!

Whoever loves her next,

She will set fire to your soul,
In the most beautiful way,
Her eyes tell so many stories,
And hers alone is not easy,
She is the most beautiful girl to ever step foot on earth.

She will make you mad,
Do not yell at her,
Stay calm,
Talk things out.

You might need to push a conversation on her because she won’t make a first move,
But never push it if she’s uncomfortable,
Drop it right then and there,

Trust her,
No matter what it is, trust her,
And build your trust in her for you.

Please treat her with nothing but respect,
She’s the biggest pain in the ass but that’s who she is, but she deserves the best,
She’ll test your limits, but don’t give up on her too soon,
She gets these moods where you just have to give her space,
Just be yourself, that will be plenty.

When you wake her up in the morning be sure to be gentle,
Kiss her forehead, nothing too extreme,
When she sends you a picture of her,
On god you better respond with the heart eyes and hearts and freak the fuck out asking how she’s yours,
You’ll see the most beautiful smile you have ever laid eyes on start to form on her face.

She likes the little things,
Naps together, forehead kisses, late night talks,
But she loves exploring,
Take her on a hike,
Take her to new places, and watch her eyes begin to glow, and that smile of hers shine.

She’s picky when it comes to food,
So don’t be pushy, if she’s not hungry, don’t ask again,
But one thing she usually won’t pass up,
So you better get your ass out of bed at 3am like me to make her one that’s not from the bag.

She loves her rocks and different energies,

So you better sit there at 2 in the morning,
Or 2 in the afternoon listening to her talk about them,
And don’t stop or interrupt her when she’s rambling on about them,
Her voice should be your favorite sound,
It’s what she enjoys,
It’s what she’s passionate about,
She also loves to paint,
Especially on rainy days,
It gets her mind off of things,
She’s in her own world,
So don’t interrupt.

She. Will. Not. Make. Decisions.
So when it comes down to it, she’ll tell you she won’t be the one to have the last word,
Unless she’s right,
Always let her have the last word,
Even when she’s dead wrong, if you agree with her and say “baby, you’re right” she will be the happiest girl in the world,
And that better be your goal.

She’s never wrong,
Cocky as all hell about it,
But she’s never wrong,
Even when she’s dead wrong and knows it.

She’s needy,
So when you’re laying in bed with her,
Make sure you’re in reach of her being able to touch you,
If she can’t, she’ll make it known,
She loves touch, a simple touch,
If your hand is on her leg, don’t move it unless she moves it for you,
She’s at ease.

Sometimes she’s judgmental about herself.
So worship her,
Cherish her,
Tell her that she is the most beautiful girl in the world day in and day out,
Call her beautiful like it’s her name,
She loves it,
She loves being called cute names.

Show her off in public,
Make it known that she’s yours,
Protect her, make sure she feels safe with you,
Never make her do something she’s not up to do.

Respect her and every decision she makes,
Be there for her through the ups and downs,
The small things and the big things,
The not so serious problems and the serious problems,
If she calls you and says she needs you,
Get in your car and go find her,
Make her and her happiness your number one priority,
And make sure you worship the ground she walks on.

Remind her that her feelings are valid,
Remind her that her emotions are valid,
Remind her that her thoughts are valid,
Remind her that it’s okay to cry,
Remind her that it’s okay to be upset,
Be there for her,
And never let her go.

Hold her when she cries,
Comfort her when she feels uneasy,
Play with her hair so she falls asleep at night,
And love her, with every god damn ounce of your soul.

And if you’re lucky,
She’ll love you too.

—  I’m still in love with you
- 8:00pm
“Game of Survival”

@hermajestymanon Let the battle begin, dear friend. 

The throne room was a massacre. The throne room was where Prythian ended and a new force began. Feyre stood, her sword barely gripped in her right hand, blood slowly rolling down her skin. 

Her eyes fluttered closed as she looked around the carnage that surrounded her. The High Lord of the Dawn Court was pinned to the wall, his mouth still open, his skin still glimmering. Feyre watched that light fade. 

His wife and chosen soldiers decorated the floor with their golden blood, which carefully slithered across the floor. The Lady of the Dawn Court’s eyes were open, the golden orbs staring into space.

Feyre had never learned their names.

Kallias was lying down motionless, the blade in his back frozen over. His bright blue eyes seemed dull in comparison to a color Feyre once knew. His fingers were digging into the ice that painted the ground. In the process of crawling away from a force you can not out run: Death. 

On top of him, as if in the last moments of her life she was determined to guard him, a female rested. Her back was arched, her own jagged blade sinking into her sternum. White blood stained her lips, her fingers curled helplessly around the metal. 

Their own warriors were discarded and ruined around them, white and gold blood slowly swimming together, mixing like they were made to. It created a marble design, and slowly it swam to Helion. 

Hellion’s golden tunic was stained with a vibrant red, brighter than any red Feyre had ever seen. She would have loved to paint with such a bright color. His beaded head piece was tossed from his head, laying on the ground, far away from the High Lord. If Feyre didn’t know any better, the High Lord could have just been sleeping. He still looked magnificent. 

His wife lay beside him, those deep brown eyes forever unseeing. Her mouth opened in a scream the world would never hear again. The fiercest battle cry she had ever witnessed. Her crown still rested on her head, as if it knew it belonged there, even in death. Blood ran down her deep brown skin, and Feyre thought it was the most beautiful horror she had ever seen.

Warriors of the Day were thrown and destroyed around their High Lord and Lady, their bright red blood crawling across the throne room floor, until it met with the white and gold. Their deaths were brutal, yet undeniably stunning. 

The blade fell from Feyre’s fingers, clattering against the ground, when her eyes saw Tarquin. Young, brave, fearless Tarquin. She should have let him alone after she had betrayed him in his own Court. She should have never involved him in this. 

Tarquin’s white hair was matted with blood, his eyes peacefully closed. He was crumpled on his side, his body broken in several ways. Of all of them, he had fought the hardest. Feyre wished his eyes were open, so she could see that blue one last time. 

A male warrior had fallen on top of Tarquin, his body resting over the High Lord’s long legs. His left arm was reaching out, only a few inches from Tarquin’s unmoving fingertips. 

In their last seconds, the lovers had reached for one another. Feyre saw Varian and Cresseida amongst the Summer Court Fae who had fought bravely. Blood swam down Cresseida’s arms, her eyes glazed over. Varian’s own sword had betrayed him in the end, lodged in the Fae’s chest. 

She nearly staggered to the side when she saw Lucien’s bright red hair. 

His good eye was closed, his scarred eye staring at the far wall. Feyre had a sick feeling that Lucien could still see with that eye, even as he lay there, stone still. He was horrible to look at. Her friend, dead, gone, brave, but gone. 

Unnamed Autumn Court warriors had died by their High Lord’s side. Had accepted him as their rightful High Lord, had given her friend love, compassion, strength, everything she could not. And Feyre couldn’t even bother to learn their names. Faes with dark skin, natural tans, or olive undertones had died for Lucien, for a ray of hope. Their red hair, brown hair, golden hair, all soaked in blood; their blood. And all of their veins, empty of that raging fire. They had given that power up the moment they fell to the ground. 

The ends of Tamlin’s golden air was soaked in his own blood. Feyre stared at him, blood slowly trailing down her face, sliding down her cheeks, dripping off her nose. She knew she was covered in it. White, blue, red, and other colors alike. 

He looked peaceful. 

Like he was waiting for someone. 

Feyre’s knees began to tremble as she looked closer to her. The bodies created a path, a path to her. She swallowed a lump in her throat when she saw Elain and Nesta. Nesta with her burned hands, Elain with her tranquil face. 

Feyre wanted to collapse when she saw Azriel. His wings were bent against his back, a siphon cracked and broken, scattered across the floor, never to hum and glow again. 

Feyre looked at her friend, someone she would have called a brother, someone who would never breathe again. Cladded in Illyrian leathers, Azriel had gone down with a fight, Feyre knew that much. 

And so had his brother. Cassian, collapsed by Azriel’s side, motionless. His wings were gone from his back, once again. Feyre knew one thing. In death, Cassian deserved his wings more than anyone else. Fate was a cruel, wicked thing. His siphons were also cracked, broken, and gone. 

Another male she would never be able to call brother. 

Female Illyrians surrounded the two warriors. Wings. A sea of wings, all broken, tattered, torn, or simply gone. It was a sea of destruction, a sea of pain. Feyre blinked, and she saw another blonde head. 

Blood still seeped from Mor’s stomach and Feyre pressed a shaky hand against her mouth. Her blonde hair was pressed against her face, her brown eyes open, positioned on Azriel. He was the last thing she saw. 

Amren, her firedrake friend, their last hope in the seemingly impossible war, was  just as dead as the rest of them. Silver blood still poured from her neck, her silver eyes on the ceiling. Silver painted her and Feyre thought it was fitting. She sparkled like one of her beloved gems. 

She hoped her friend was back home, back with those who she loved and loved her. 

Feyre’s eyes drooped closed, then she forced them to open. She forced herself to look at the body at her feet. Her heart laid bare before her, crushed and broken, never to beat again. 

Her mate, her husband, her High Lord. His violet eyes so dark, not nearly as light and glowing as she remembered them. Her everything, her salvation; the one she saved, the one who had saved her. Broken and dead. 

The realization hit her hard. Rhysand was dead. Feyre finally fell, her head hitting the smooth floor. She moved one last time, determined to hold Rhysand’s hand. Determined never to die alone again. 

Her fingers clasped around his and Feyre looked up, letting loose a shuddering breath as she saw the King, skewered on his throne. His head thrown back, his body lifeless, all that power, gone. 

Unmade and Made; Made and Unmade - that is the cycle. Like calls to like. The Book of Breathings had warned her. The Book had warned her of the price. The Book had told her she was the princess of carrion. If only she had listened, truly listened.

For something to be Unmade then Made, something had to be Made then Unmade. For Feyre to hold the power of all the High Lords, it was fitting they should all be destroyed. Her eyes fluttered and the King wavered in her vision, as the Cauldron toppled over. 

The water raced across the floor, washing away blood in its wake, drowning the Fae in its cold grasp. It swam closer and closer to her, seemingly hissing and cackling. Soon, it soaked her, head to toe, along with her mate and her friends. 

Her family. 

Together, the deaths of the High Lords, they had Unmade Prythian. Feyre saw a figure in the doorway, their bare feet slick with the Cauldron’s water. The water began to shimmer, carrying the seven High Lord’s magic as well as the King’s through the liquid. 

Feyre heard a faint thumping, as if the figure had fled. Her eyes finally closed, she finally slipped away. She could only hope the Cauldron had chosen correctly; chosen someone to end this cycle. 

She would be the last to be Made. 

And with her, Prythian would be the last to be Unmade. 

World War Maas II has officially began. 

There will be casualties. 

People will not survive. 

Only one will come out victorious. 

Trimberly one shot

Biology was almost over. And by almost, Trini meant, half an hour down, one more to go.

Even so, she was as nervous as never. She fiddled with her pen and actually focused on the teacher for once, trying to absorb as much information as possible. That was, of course, so she could keep her eyes off Kimberly Ann Hart.  

Kimberly Ann Hart. Her only girlfriend. As in a friend that was a girl. Her best friend. The best Trini could’ve ever asked for.

Trini clearly remembers the day she met her. Actually met her. Standing there, in her profound glory, with her short hair bobbing up and down, and smiled at her as if she was everything.

Trini has no choice but to stare for just a little longer.


Anna was the first girl Trini had ever loved. She was only 14. Trini could only tell her that if her parents found out how she looked at her, she’d be homeless. She had then cried for 2 days straight, and Trini starts playing back to those small moments. That the library would smell like their books, the way Anna would give her a special smile every time they looked at each other. A smile reserved just for her.

It had only been 2 months, and Trini’s heart had been broken into the smallest fragments possible.

Experiment. She hates that word.

If there’s one thing that Trini hates about being gay, it’s when people date her. In order to ‘experiment’ and to ‘try it out’. Because Trini despises being used, as a subject. When she pours her heart into loving this girl, and she ends up saying ‘I’m so sorry, I’m just not into girls…anymore.”

Trini knows that that’s bullshit. So she makes a vow on her seventeenth birthday, declaring to never fall for a straight girl ever.


That vow was broken in less than a week after she moved to Angel Grove.

It was after her small party hosted on the highest spot of Angel Grove with the gang. A beautiful sight. But really, nothing could ever be as beautiful as Kim.

The two of them were on Kim’s bed. Just there. Just existing. Together. Then out of nowhere, Kim started talking and snapped Trini out of her thoughts.

“To be honest, we’re literally floating on a tiny planet in fucking space, or universe, should I say. Why are we surrounded by hatred and misery? Why can’t everyone just calm the fuck down and lay on some grass. The sun is a GIANT BURNING ORB and why does money even exist? Fuck everything!”

Trini snorted and raised an eyebrow. “Since when did you speak my language princess?”

“I mean really! Gosh but like we spent hundreds of years looking up at the stars and wondering “is there anybody out there” and hoping and guessing and imagining all kinds of shit.”

Trini didn’t say anything. She loved it when Kim would ramble out her thoughts to her, out of nowhere. Only to her. Like she was exceptional.

That was when it happened. Kim just suddenly rested her head on Trini’s shoulder and grumbled.

“Why the hell are you so short, Trin?”

Trini felt herself stiffen up. Kimberly obviously felt it and sat up straight away.

“Is something wrong?”

Trini loosened up immediately. “No. No, not at all. Just think we should get going now. It’s kinda late.”

Kim shrugged and stood up making her way to the door.


It was like electricity when Kim had rested her head on Trini’s shoulder.

And it hits her like a truck. She realized that she’s falling. A great void opens up and she feels that she is falling, falling into deep, black space. There is no climbing back, no ray of light, no sound of human voice or a human touch of a hand. Because Kimberly had the type of eyes that could hold the sun, the moon, and the stars. Her eyes held galaxies, universes, time itself. But most of all, in her eyes, if anyone looked hard enough, they could find Trini’s heart.


Trini now lets Kimberly in. She loves the way Kimberly’s eyes spark when they’re talking or when she’s telling her something she wants her to know, the way she mouths the words herself when she’s reading and concentrating, the way she looks at her as if there’s only her, as if she can pass the flesh and bone and bullshit right into Trini that’s there, the one she don’t even see herself.

And so she tries.


Biology’s finally over.

Everyone shuffles out the doorway and the 2 automatically walk side by side towards their normal spot.

“What’s after class?”

“English,” Trini replied while tapping her foot.

“Mhm. Can you get me lunch today? I wanna listen to some music. Thanks.”

Trini didn’t even bother to hesitate. The longer the drag, the better. She was nervous as ever.

She came back with Kim’s favorite’s classic ham and cheese and saw Jason beside Kim chatting away.  

A flash of jealousy passed her face but disappeared in godlike speed.

She sat down on the other side of Kim, and as if on cue, Jason stood up to get to Billy. Conveniently, Zack just had to be hiding behind a pillar right in front of them.

Kimberly muttered thanks, and Trini decided now would be it.

“Hey…uh so we’ve known each other for a while now and we’re pretty close and uh I was wondering if you wanted to go on a date.” Trini rubbed the back of her neck with her right sweaty palm.

After a second of a felt like-late reply, Kimberly pulls out her earphones. “Did you say something?”


Trini has no choice but to give a pained smile and say, “D-do you have a pencil I could borrow during English later? For uh doodling? You know how boring Mrs. Khader’s class can be right? Ahahaha…”

Kimberly gives out that smile and nods. “Sure.” Her mouth’s full of food, so it comes out like a “Shoore.”

Trini laughs and her boost of courage is gone, because Kim can make her melt just like that.


School’s over and she finds her phone exploding from Zack’s messages.


*Media file*


still keeping that pink pencil?

Trini almost has a heart attack. Zack had filmed the whole process of Trini’s failure to ask Kimberly out on a date.


Zack Taylor if u send that 2 any1 I will single handedly come up 2 ur house rn with no hesitation n grab for the nearest thing available 2 gouge ur eyeballs out n feed it 2 ur goldfish


easy crazy girl just go ask again no biggie alright i’ve got a lotta blackmail material but tbh i nv use it so ur good to go


yea right


no legit


And so she tries. Again.

She pulls Kimberly aside first thing in the morning.

“You alright?” The concern is immediately showing on Kimberly’s face.

Trini lets out a low laugh. “Yeah, I’ve just got something to ask you.”

Kimberly brightens up immediately. “Shoot.”

Trini takes in a deep breath and goes for it. “Uh…so we’re pretty close and uh I was wondering if you wanted to go on a date.”

Kimberly doesn’t reply.

Trini starts to panic because she doesn’t know who to tell anymore when she finds new music and she doesn’t know where she’s gonna express how much she loves it. She doesn’t know who’s gonna agree with her and who she’s gonna listen to it with while she falls asleep. She doesn’t know who’s going to hear about her day and her test grades and how long she napped and what she ate for dinner and what movie she watched and the interesting things she learned in class and how much she hates physics and when she didn’t read the assignment for English. She doesn’t know who she’s gonna tell how she went to get food instead of jogging laps in the gym and how productive she was studying that night. She doesn’t know who’s going to listen to her sing her favorite bands and then sing with her and take walks with her in the summer on the most beautiful days. She doesn’t know who’s going to do that all and care about it if Kimberly finds her disgusting and sickening. She doesn’t know.

Trini’s not one to ramble but she does. “I mean I can completely understand and I respect your decision if you don’t want to be with me in that kinda way because you might even have something going on with Jace I just –”


Trini stood there and her head shot up and looked at Kimberly. Kimberly’s brown hazel eyes shone. She was being sincere.

But Kimberly didn’t stop there. She smiled and leaned against the lockers. “Trini, I would love to go on a full on gay date with my best friend. I’ve always wanted you to kiss me in the public, put your arm around me so people know I’m with you. I’ve always wanted you to pull me in because I’m just not quite close enough to you. I’ve always wanted you to make me watch that one tv show that’s your guilty pleasure. Tell me your biggest fear and I’ll promise to protect you. I’ve always wanted you to kiss me at red lights because if you don’t then I’ll kiss you. I’ve always wanted you to show me the one song you can never listen to without crying. Trini, don’t hide the tiny details about you. Because I’ll remember every one of them.”

“You’re so cute when you ramble.” Trini clamps her hands over her mouth. “Holy shit. I did not just – ok.”

The bell rings. First period is about to begin.

“Text me.” Kimberly winks, leaving a dazed Trini behind.


Her phone lights up as soon as Kim disappears round the corner.

Kim <3

rmb to call me babe in front of our waiter

Kim <3

btw u can keep the pencil :)

Ginny's Education

Hogwarts - Ginny was smart, bright and tallented. Fearless in her tackling of complex tasks and the ability to master Charms incredibly well had her reputation of being a superb hex caster all the more impressive, because it was backed by facts. Once she wanted something, she would strive for it endlessly, sometimes leaving others behind in her wake. Quidditch was one of her fierce loves and she practiced until it was impossible to tell which way was up or down. Proving herself in duels and dares became the norm, especially against stuck-up boys who only wanted her for her looks. They soon learned not to. She had a practical, hands-on approach to learning and fully enjoyed the practical lessons with tallented teachers where she could actually do and see the results of the theory.
The war took a toll on Ginny. She had to grow out of constantly looking behind her back, as her 6th year had been full of curses aimed at her spitefully. Someone quipped that she was as ‘jumpy as Mad-eye Moody’, and they came away from the encounter worse because of it.

Further education - Ginny wasn’t very interested in seriously pursuing further education after Hogwarts because she had already been getting attention by quidditch teams. When the Hollyhead Harpies came along, she was sold and so her career as a phenomenal chaser began. It was a welcome break from the pressure of school during 6th year. If she had an option later, however, she wouldn’t turn down the opportunity to keep learning. After all, you can never know too many spells, jinxs and handy hints. Books of that sort were always welcome, as long as she was able to practice too.

Goals and aims - since young, Ginny had a crush on harry, but it had grown into respect, admiration and eventually a mature love for him (and vise versa). They shared similar experiences and she was able to comfort and encourage Harry, who felt the effects of PTSD and his last few years at Hogwarts deeply. Getting married to him was one of the most beautiful days in her life and she kept a billion photos to one day show her kids. She loved and cared for Teddy as if he was her own and nobody could tell her that he wasnt.

@bonechandelier you asked for something similar…
@thatmarauderer ; @bigbrother05

Con thương mẹ

This piece was very hard for me to do… I was so emotional while drawing. This is my mother, her appearance drawn to the best of my memory, helping me learn to walk.

***This piece is extremely personal to me. Please do not repost, remove these credits, reblog w/ comments, edit, steal, use without my written permission.***

ladyflorence1215  asked:

Hi! Inspired by that recent ask about Sansa's 5 top moments, could you make it into 10+ character moments, times where she shows her love and loyalty towards her family, times where she shows her wisdom and times where she shows that a "lady's courtesy is her armour". Also maybe you could also add times other people complement Sansa too. All if you are interested in this proposal and have the time to do it. There's no rush in any case. :)

This is an amazing idea. And I will start now with all the times she is complemented for her beauty. ( i will later do a post about sansa being proud of her stark origins  because its something i rarely see in ASOIAF metas). 

1) Sansa could sew and dance and sing. She wrote poetry. She knew how to dress. She played the high harp and the bells. Worse, she was beautiful. Sansa had gotten their mother’s fine high cheekbones and the thick auburn hair of the Tullys.

2)  To the other maidens he had given white roses, but the one he plucked for her was red. “Sweet lady,” he said, “no victory is half so beautiful as you.” Sansa took the flower timidly, struck dumb by his gallantry

3)  When the king’s herald moved forward, Sansa realized the moment was almost at hand. She smoothed down the cloth of her skirt nervously. She was dressed in mourning, as a sign of respect for the dead king, but she had taken special care to make herself beautiful.

4)  “I saw Sansa at the court, the day Tyrion told me his terms. She looked most beautiful, my lady. Perhaps a, a bit wan. Drawn, as it were.”

5)  “Sansa was a lady at three, always so courteous and eager to please. She loved nothing so well as tales of knightly valor. Men would say she had my look, but she will grow into a woman far more beautiful than I ever was, you can see that. I often sent away her maid so I could brush her hair myself. She had auburn hair, lighter than mine, and so thick and soft … the red in it would catch the light of the torches and shine like copper.

6)  ”You are very beautiful, my lady,“ the seamstress said when she was dressed.

7)  Tyrion wore a doublet of black velvet covered with golden scrollwork, thigh-high boots that added three inches to his height, a chain of rubies and lions’ heads. But the gash across his face was raw and red, and his nose was a hideous scab. You are very beautiful, Sansa,“ he told her.

8) The music spun them apart before Sansa could think of a reply. It was Mace Tyrell opposite her, red-faced and sweaty, and then Lord Merryweather, and then Prince Tommen. “I want to be married too,” said the plump little princeling, who was all of nine. “I’m taller than my uncle!”“I know you are,” said Sansa, before the partners changed again. Ser Kevan told her she was beautiful.

9) they lurched into motion, Tyrion reclined on an elbow while Sansa sat staring at her hands. She is just as comely as the Tyrell girl. Her hair was a rich autumn auburn, her eyes a deep Tully blue. Grief had given her a haunted, vulnerable look; if anything, it had only made her more beautiful. He wanted to reach her, to break through the armor of her courtesy. 

10) Shae had arranged her hair artfully in a delicate silver net winking with dark purple gemstones. Tyrion had never seen her look more lovely, yet she wore sorrow on those long satin sleeves. “Lady Sansa,” he told her, “you shall be the most beautiful woman in the hall tonight.”

11)  I wish you could see yourself, my lady. You are so beautiful. You’re crusted over with snow like some little bear cub, but your face is flushed and you can scarcely breathe. How long have you been out here? You must be very cold. Let me warm you, Sansa. Take off those gloves, give me your hands.

12) I was never beautiful like Sansa, but they all said I was pretty. Jeyne’s words seemed to echo in his head, to the beat of the drums two of Abel’s other girls were pounding.

13) Sansa looked radiant as she walked beside him, but Jon did not like Joffrey’s pouty lips or the bored, disdainful way he looked at Winterfell’s Great Hall.

14)  ourtiers filled the gallery while supplicants clustered near the towering oak-and-bronze doors. Sansa Stark looked especially lovely this morning, though her face was as pale as milk.

15)  Was she your wife? She … she was very beautiful … ”A lovely girl,“ …said Tyrion, "and we were joined beneath the eyes of gods and men. It may be that she is lost to me, but until I know that for a certainty I must be true to her.”

16)  Lord Littlefinger kissed her cheek. “With my wits and Cat’s beauty, the world will be yours, sweetling. Now off to bed.”

17)  Oh, I think you do,“ said Littlefinger, with one of those smiles that did not reach his eyes. ”You will be the most beautiful woman in the hall tonight, as lovely as your lady mother at your age. I cannot seat you on the dais, but you’ll have a place of honor above the salt and underneath a wall sconce. The fire will be shining in your hair, so everyone will see how fair of face you are. 

18) (my favorite):  Fresh mules awaited them at Snow, and a hot meal of stewed goat and onions. She ate with Mya and Myranda. “So you’re brave as well as beautiful,” Myranda said to her.

(this collection of quotes makes me realize how beauty for sansa is becoming  a curse…more than a blessing) (also tyrion wins this contest by far) 

stay with me

Originally posted by wahsabi

Title: stay with me
Pairing: Choi Minho/Reader
Genre: Idol!AU
Summary: In the worst moment of her life, he goes to see her one last time.

Another smile is thrown at the groups of flashes that she supposes lead to a person, but it surely looks like a fantasy as she wore that dress that flowed on her body perfectly, some designer loving the way they were earning money as she tells everyone she’s okay. One step closer and she continues posing, griping the arm of the person that was leading her on the red carpet to keep herself in check. She never liked the way the cameras were at all angles, how she was going to end up in the news’ front page and she didn’t feel like reading the articles from the next day. They would comment how she looked a little bit left out, how she didn’t smile as cutely anymore, they would say this and that about her and gossiping about what happened to her. One of her hand lifts up the edge of her dress to continue walking, the long material making it a little bit difficult to continue with her walk at the red carpet and when she sees only a few meters more to walk, she feels relieved. Some people were asking her questions but her ears were completely deaf, only giving plain answers before she entered through those gates that she liked to call ‘the entrance to heaven’. Once she was inside that place, she only had to listen to the music and wait for those awards that she may or may not receive.

Some said they wanted a life like hers, but she isn’t sure she wants it anymore.

Keep reading

aforeffortenjolras  asked:

nancy rue !


but seriously, she and her books were FUNDAMENTAL to my growing up as a tween. lily, lucy, and especially sophie’s books helped me become the woman i am today. not even remotely joking.

i even got to attend some sort of girls’ conference she was attending once, and after corresponding through email, i got to meet her?? and it meant?? so much to me?? in my childhood??