Ship Malec Forever.
Finnick Odair is sexy like Justin Timberlake
Kisses from Brazil.
"The Angel blade burns you, just as God’s name chokes you. They say that those who die upon its point will achieve the gates of heaven. In which case, revenant, I am doing you a favor. Any last words?”
Simon knew what he was supposed to say. Sh’ma Yisrael, adonai elohanu, adonai echod. Hear, oh Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is One. He tried to speak the words, but a searing pain burned his throat. “Clary,” he whispered instead.
♕ “Do you know what it is like to be sold, squire? I do. My brother sold me to Khal Drogo for the promise of a golden crown. Well, Drogo crowned him in gold, though not as he had wished, and I…my sun-and-stars made a queen of me, but if he had been a different man, it might have been much otherwise. Do you think I have forgotten how it felt to be afraid?”
…we’ll kill you ourselves, you get me?
Paige Matthews ◇ Season 5
"These were mine and now they’re yours. Chain mail top - from my club days. Steel-toed boots — from my mosh pit days. Handcuffs… from last Friday."
And sometimes, if I was really, really lucky, he’d smile at me. A real smile, too—not the dry one that accompanied the sarcasm we tossed around so often. I didn’t want to admit it to anyone—not to Lissa, not even to myself—but some days, I lived for those smiles. They lit up his face. “Gorgeous” no longer adequately described him.
I feel like I owe him something, and I hate owing people. Maybe if I had thanked him at some point, I’d be feeling less conflicted now. I thought about it a couple of times, but the opportunity never seemed to present itself. And now it never will. Because we’re going to be thrown into an arena to fight to the death. Exactly how am I supposed to work in a thank-you in there? Somehow it just won’t seem sincere if I’m trying to slit his throat.
The Notebook ♦ Allie Hamilton’s wardrobe
anonymous requested: margaery tyrell + warm colours