What you say: I'm economically conservative and socially liberal
What I hear: Poor people can starve for all I care so long as I have weed.
France, Spain, Naples - they can crumble to dust for all I care; As long as you…
(Source: renaissancemadonna, via dgsafdmd)
It had to be at least a month since Sansa had returned to Winterfell. Whatever she had gone through had changed her more than Robb could have ever imagine. It was a change he couldn’t handle. He couldn’t stand to be around her. From a quick glance she looked perfectly fine, only feeling a little under the weather. But that was not it at all. Sansa hadn’t spoken a word since her return. She hadn’t even looked at him - she hadn’t even looked at anyone. All Sansa would do was sit there and stare. It scared Robb, it frustrated him, it wanted him to scream at the top of his lungs.
And he did. Not at first of course. At first he tried more gentle things, just as everyone did. But after some time when it became apparent that none of it would work most gave up on trying to return Sansa to her normal self. But not Robb, he needed her to become Sansa, lively, fiery Sansa. He didn’t want to believe that she had to go through something so horrible to traumatize her into this sort of state. It made Robb feel guilty. He blamed himself for the way she was acting.
It took just over a month for Robb to finally snap. “Sansa.” He said, looking at her while she stared off into the distance, her eyes glazed over. “Last night there was a letter from Bran.” He spoke softer than usual. The way he’d always speak around her. “He’s coming home soon.” As always there was no response from Sansa. “Sansa. Look at me.” Robb stood from his spot, taking a step away from the girl turning away. He could barely stand to look at her anymore. She was so frail. So broken. And it broke his heart and made him feel like he could fall apart at any given second.
He clenched his fists. “Sansa please. Look at me” He took a deep breath in, trying to calm himself. It didn’t work. “Look at me!” He screamed, unable to keep it in anymore. Robb spun on his feet, moving fast to be in front of her, he kneeled now looking up at her. ”I’m right here Sansa. You’re safe now, so please just look at me.” His words did nothing. “It’s your brother, Robb. I’m here to protect you, so please just look at me.” He could tell that his loud words had attached attention because he could hear the sound of rushed footsteps. Robb didn’t want someone else to see him cry.
He took another deep breath in, finally standing up. “I’m so sorry…” Robb’s loud screams had turned into a quivering whisper. He didn’t think he could do anything for her, but he’d never stop trying. He’d never stop trying for her, for Sansa. And just as he was about to leave he felt a weak grip on his wrist.
My name’s not Arry. It’s Arya. Of House Stark.
(Source: anudous, via alwaysdamonsalvatore)
Paul Wesley was at the lakers game in the kiss cam and he just pointed to his ring.
(Source: niansomerhalder, via reuniteddalaric)
Hannibal, Translated: Actual cool dad Hannibal Lecter
(via dgsafdmd)
himapapaftw:
do people honestly think that honors students dont cheat
i dare anyone who thinks that to spend a day with a group of honors student friends and see how many times they copy each other within ten minutes
(via princessofwarriors)
