These violent delights have violent ends.
Or, how I learned to write fan fiction again.

relax-o-vision:

*gravitates towards the meanest female character on the show*

*sits*

If I was, in fact, in the eighteenth century, where was he? What would he do when I failed to return to Mrs. Baird’s? Would I ever see him again?

little-magnolie:

Costume Drama AU | Game of Thrones - Jaime & Cersei
The Interwar Period #2 [1]
The day he came home from the war, she knew their life would never be the same. She didn’t care whether her father wanted to marry her to that Stark-boy, she didn’t care whether Timothy knew about them and Cecille didn’t care whether James would ever fully heal again. Leicester Hall was her home, and no one would ship her off to leave her twin behind. She had thought she had lost him forever, that he had died without her in a trench somewhere in France. She would never let him go again.

captainedamerica:

"This attractive (though probably evil) man’s name is Jeremy Foster" (x)

You put your hair up when you want to look your best. You think it’s more flattering. You’re wrong, of course. It’s a draw.

"I said so once to your father’s face, and he would not speak to me for half a year."

Charles!” uttered Sophy, shocked. “You cannot love me!” Mr. Rivenhall pulled the door to behind them, and in a very rough fashion jerked her into his arms, and kissed her. “I don’t. I dislike you excessively!” he said savagely.

— Georgette Heyer, The Grand Sophy (via theinwardsources)
Ygritte had been kissed by fire; the red priestess was fire, and 
her hair was blood and flame
RF