Perhaps you should speak to me more softly then. Monsters are dangerous and, just now, kings are dying like flies.
Actual five year olds.
fuck sebastian stan but also like fuck sebastian stan
im so fucking done
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.
Not even by their mother.