They dream tree dreams. I dream of a tree dreams. A weirwood. Like the one in the godswood. It calls to me.
by Fernando Reza
when the hands cradling her body are rough
and more familiar than anything
allison wakes up
sext: you are interesting and intelligent. i would love to discuss/share knowledge and alternate perspectives on complex ideals with you
'is it better to be alone?' | photograped by bruce weber for vogue italia nov ‘05
”What you did to me is in my head, and I will find it. I’ going to remember, Dr. Lecter, and when I do, there will be a reckoning.”
i don’t pray anymore, it’s the only place i can go where people don’t talk to me.
An ornate 6 shot wheel-lock revolving musket decorated with gold, silver, ivory, and bone. Originates from Russia, 16th century, possibly restored or added onto in the 18th or 19th century.
It took two Kingsguard to pry loose her fingers, so the body of King Joffrey Baratheon could slide limp and lifeless to the floor.
The king is dead, long live the king!
A long time ago, she remembered her father saying that when the cold wind blows the lone wolf dies but the pack survives. He had it all backwards. Arya, the lone wolf, still lived, but the wolves of the pack had been taken and slain and skinned