Uncategorized – Page 75 – lyannas tumblr back up

targaryensource:

“I am the blood of the dragon,” she whispered aloud as she followed, trying to keep her courage up. “I am the blood of the dragon. I am the blood of the dragon.” The dragon was never afraid.

requested by @bynightafangirl

yimmygee:

my pharah for @therocketqueenzine!!!!

jonsn0ws:

He used to mess my hair and call me “little sister,” she remembered, and suddenly there were tears in her eyes.

Man oh man, I really don’t know what’s going on but I’ve been noticing that quite a few blogs that I’ve been following have been randomly unfollowed on my end. If you’re reading this and we were mutuals please let me know if this happened. Thank you!

A brief life update:

I have put in my two weeks BABEY
Which means I will have time before school starts to hopefully HOPEFULLY do more writing in both the fic and meta arenas
And then I will be embarking on the biggest challenge of my life with pharmacy school, but in four years y’all can call me Dr. Lyannas 😎

SHE SAID THE DOORS ARE OPEN TO THE BELIEVER

I BELIEVE HER

bitchfromtheseventhhell:

The knight hesitated. “Your Grace, if you are dead—” ♛ Fancasting

skitzofreak:

brainstatic:

If Democrats take the House, their current ranking member of the Financial Services Committee becomes the chair of the committee, and has the power to subpoena Trump’s bank records. That member is Maxine Waters. Vote.

REGISTER TO VOTE

OR REGISTER HERE

YOU MUST BE REGISTERED AHEAD OF TIME BEFORE YOU CAN SHOW UP TO VOTE!!

sansalayned:

Ned Stark and Tywin Lannister + antiparallels (requested by anonymous)
check the parallels set here

bitchfromtheseventhhell:

Arya Meme
↳ 4/10 Scenes: Acorn Hall

“I have no gowns of leaves,” said Lady Smallwood with a small fond smile, “but Carellen left some other dresses that might serve. Come, child, let us go upstairs and see what we can find.”

It was even worse than before; Lady Smallwood insisted that Arya take another bath, and cut and comb her hair besides; the dress she put her in this time was sort of lilac-colored, and decorated with little baby pearls. The only good thing about it was that it was so delicate that no one could expect her to ride in it. So the next morning as they broke their fast, Lady Smallwood gave her breeches, belt, and tunic to wear, and a brown doeskin jerkin dotted with iron studs. “They were my son’s things,” she said. “He died when he was seven.”