#ash

I know how devastated you must be to miss me, but leave a message, and I'll try to ease your agony ↗

— Richelle Mead

#illness

Not true,” said Adrian. “All guys mean the same thing when they want to ‘get to know a girl better.’ You’re a wellbred young lady, so I understand why you’d be too innocent to understand. Good thing you’ve got me here to interpret. ↗

— Richelle Mead

#innocence

When the darkness receded, she found herself lying on the bed, still half-dressed...and being watched by human eyes that held a very feline satisfaction. "I said slow." He smiled. "Oops." Charm. ↗

— Nalini Singh

#dorian #satisfaction

Don't worry, little dhampir. You might be surrounded by clouds, but you'll always be like sunshine to me. ↗

— Richelle Mead

#worry

He shook his head. "No. Because there's no one else out there who understands you like I do." I waited for more. "That's it? You're not going to elaborate on what that means?" Those green eyes held me. "I don't think I need to. ↗

— Richelle Mead

#sydney-sage #waiting

Washing one's hands of the conflict between the powerful and the powerless means to side with the powerful, not to be neutral. ↗

— Paulo Freire

#conflict #hands #means #neutral #powerful

Meghan,” whispered a voice, heart wrenchingly familiar, drawing me out of the void. I recognized it immediately, just as I realized it was a figment of my desperate imagination, because the real owner of that voice would never be here, talking to me. Ash? “Wake up,” he murmured, his deep voice cutting through the layers of the darkness. “Don’t do this. If you don’t come out of this soon, you’ll fade away and drift forever. Fight it. Come back to us.” I didn’t want to wake up. There was nothing but pain waiting for me in the real world. If I was asleep, I couldn’t feel anything. If I was asleep, I didn’t have to face Ash and the cold contempt on his face when he looked at me. Darkness was my retreat, my sanctuary. I drew back from Ash’s voice, deeper into the comforting blackness. And, through the layer of dreams and delirium, I heard a quiet sob. “Please.” A hand gripped mine, real and solid, anchoring me to the present. “I know what you must think of me, but…” The voice broke off, took a ragged breath. “Don’t leave,” it whispered. “Meghan, don’t go. Come back to me. ↗

— Julie Kagawa

#love #meghan #dreams

So,” I demanded, trying to sound confident, “where can we find this trod to New Orleans?” “The frost giant ruins,” Ash replied, looking thoughtful. “Very close to Mab’s court.” At Puck’s glare, he shrugged and offered a tiny, rueful smirk. “She goes to Mardi Gras every year.” I pictured the Queen of the Unseelie Court flashing a couple of drunken partygoers, and giggled uncontrollably. All three shot me a strange look. “Sorry,” I gasped, biting my lip. "Still kind of giddy, I guess. ↗

— Julie Kagawa

#mardi-gras #meghan #confidence

When does a fake Mohawk become a real Mohawk? Who decides? How do you know if it's happened? ↗

— Jennifer Egan

#hairstyle #fashion

When a girl feels that she’s perfectly groomed and dressed she can forget that part of her. That’s charm ↗

— F. Scott Fitzgerald

#charm #fashion #fashion