Come feel the heat, come taste the desire~

No one knows where my story begins but I, leaving mystery wherever I go. A popular and well known gypsy dancer of the streets of Paris, I sell my dancing skills to provide for my people and now, my husband... Pierre Gringoire, the Prince of Paris'...

[princedesruesdeparis]

For my Esmeralda, my Moon Goddess.

[truthofherdreams]

Disney Ladies ♚ Esmeralda

I ask for nothing, I can get by but I know so many less lucky than I. Please help my people, the poor and downtrod. I thought we all were the children of God. God help the outcasts, children of God. 

[gloster]

[hunchbacked-one-eyed-lame]

[fgadfanpage]

[La Esmeralda & Pierre Gringoire] Alternative love story.

[oedokuipers-deactivated20161211]

who can say what tomorrow would bring? it is written on the palm of my hand

[jesuislebossu]

Quasimodo’s eyes sparkled. It was the gypsy whom he had attempted to carry off on the preceding night, a misdeed for which he was dimly conscious that he was being punished at that very moment; which was not in the least the case, since he was being chastised only for the misfortune of being deaf, and of having been judged by a deaf man. He doubted not that she had come to wreak her vengeance also, and to deal her blow like the rest. He beheld her, in fact, mount the ladder rapidly. Wrath and spite suffocate him. He would have liked to make the pillory crumble into ruins, and if the lightning of his eye could have dealt death, the gypsy would have been reduced to powder before she reached the platform.

Notre Dame de Paris, A Tear for a Drop of Water (via jesuislebossu)

[finally-trying-something-new]

I can’t get this song out of my head…help

[avdotia-romanovna-deactivated20]

[classsexeros-deactivated2015090]

[inkonapagepoetry]

It must be the way the light catches her hair, or the way her smile is the only thing you can see. Sometimes, when you stare at her for too long, something inside you burns up. You do not know if you will regret it later, but at the moment, you want nothing but to look at her until the universe ceases to be. Somehow you know, the world will only end when she lets it. There are specks of brimstone caught in her teeth, she is all scorched knuckles, her hair contains hints of ash. When you say her name, you think phoenix. She is where your every day starts, where your every day ends. You are not ready to let her go. You never will be.

Sun Girl (via inkonapagepoetry)

[roleplaymmemes]

Reblog if your muse has ever fallen in love

[pir-ado]

[asutoraia]

Esmeralda by uger

[nicolas-emelien]

Paris - Café Esmeralda by Nicolas Emélien

[princedesruesdeparis]

This makes me want a modern AU with our Pierre and Esme [ hislunegoddess ] where they meet at this cafe. Pierre eats breakfast here every day and makes one croissant and a coffee last an hour - he’s still poor. He sits scribbling poems in a black notebook all the while. More and more often these days they tend towards the romantic, and feature a girl with beautiful emerald eyes. Esmeralda takes her morning tisane there because it amuses her to be at a cafe with her name above it - “Free advertising”  she jokes with the waiters. She eye-flirts with Pierre, more as a tease than anything because he is handsome, and she likes the way he gets uncomfortable and keeps staring when he thinks she’s not looking [ he forgets about the long mirror behind the bar, which allows her to see this, until their eyes meet in it one day as he gets up to pay.]  Archdeacon Frollo passes by on his morning constitutional and sometimes stops for a ristretto, largely so that he too can look at the Romani girl. He notices the flirting and fumes because he has been having wild and inappropriate fantasies about the dancer, for which he regularly chastises himself with scourges and hair shirts, but he just cannot stop. He blames her of course, and fears she has been sent by the devil to test his faith. He reacts by giving blistering diatribes in his sermons against poetry inciting fornication, the tide of godless foreigners in Paris and the awful temptations of watching lewd dancing. Quasimodo, the bellringer was brought up in a Catholic orphanage of which Frollo is a patron. He was given the job as part of their scheme to find work for differently abled people. He is sensitive about peoples reactions to his strange appearance, and that they assume from his slow speech that he is witless, so he stays in the church most of the time, except when Frollo sends him on errands. He has a mind that belies his looks, and observes much more than people think, though he is naive as to their motivations. He likes Esme, as she is the only person who has patience to listen to him, and gives him a genuine smile. One day Pierre gets up the courage to follow Esmeralda to find out more about her and ends up cornered by the very protective Romani brothers who own the bar where Esme waits tables and dances in the evenings.  They think he’s the stalker who she has said has has been tailing her [ actually Frollo ] and are about to give him a beating when she stops them and to save him tells them she knows him and it’s okay. She gives him a drink and they chat… and so it goes.. 

[savitris]

You think women are weak? Women are forged of iron. My body, it has bled and blazed and broken, and yet it beats on. I am iron. A little rusted, perhaps, but still I endure.

my 77 year old grandma, straight up reciting poetry at us to get out of going to the doctor’s office - ravenreyse (via thatkindofwoman)

[simplemaninlove-deactivated2014]

" You are near ,even if i dont see you,

you are with me,even if you are far away.

You are in my heart 

,In my thoughts ,

in my life.. ♥ “

A.Q