Starks + Theon DONE

starks + theon DONE

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a girl and her dogs

She scooped up a handful of snow and squeezed it between her fingers. Heavy and wet, the snow packed easily. Sansa began to make snowballs, shaping and smoothing them until they were round and white and perfect. She remembered a summer’s snow in Winterfell when Arya and Bran had ambushed her as she had emerged from the keep one morning. They’d each had a dozen snowballs to hand, and she’d had none. Bran had been perched on the roof of the covered bridge, out of reach, but Sansa had chased Arya through the stables and around the kitchen until both of them were breathless. She might even have caught her, but she’d slipped on some ice. 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.

What do I want with Snowballs? She looked at her sad little arsenal.There’s no one to throw them at. She let the one she was making drop from her hand. I could build a snow knight instead, she thought.Or even…

❝we were doomed from the beginning.❞

(the flower girlfriends of westeros, two of which are burnt alive)

watching castiel’s impact on queer media feels like when jesus died and his disciples were devastated but they still saw all the good his death did for the world

Melisandre and Selyse at the night fires

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