Dany is Mance + Stannis

and Jon’s feelings on both are clear

Mance. Like Dany, Mance is the foreign invader who creates an army of Dothraki-like raiders to attack the realm. Mance also has an oversized image of himself, is a mess of contradictions, and loses sight of the bigger picture.

What Jon thinks of Mance:

Jon thinks he’s nothing more than a charismatic Euron Greyjoy or Drogo, whom he would kill if he had to, to protect his family and his home:

Mance had spent years assembling this vast plodding host, talking to this clan mother and that magnar, winning one village with sweet words and another with a song and a third with the edge of his sword… hammering a hundred different daggers into one great spear, aimed at the heart of the Seven Kingdoms…I will kill him if I must. The prospect gave Jon no joy; there would be no honor in such a killing, and it would mean his own death as well. Yet he could not let the wildlings breach the Wall, to threaten Winterfell and the north…For eight thousand years the men of House Stark had lived and died to protect their people against such ravagers; and reavers … and bastard-born or no, the same blood ran in his veins.

Jon has little respect for Mance’s main “accomplishments” as king:

All Mance ever did was lead an army down upon the realm he once swore to protect.

Mance’s attack on the Wall pisses Jon off. So much that Jon thinks of Mance’s favorite song (about how great freedom tastes) while pouring fire down on him:

Grenn was rolling a second barrel to the precipice by then, and Kegs had one as well….A flaming giant lurched into view, stumbling and rolling on the ground. Then suddenly the mammoths were fleeing, running from the smoke and flames and smashing into those behind them in their terror… When they break, they break hard, Jon Snow thought as he watched them reel away. The drums had all gone silent. How do you like that music, Mance? How do you like the taste of the Dornishman’s wife?” 

Jon regrets not killing him when he had the chance:

I should have tried to kill Mance Rayder on the Fist, even if it meant my life. That was what Qhorin Halfhand would have done. But Jon had hesitated, and the chance passed.

Jon believes that his people have bled enough. He understands their daily struggles, while Mance and the wildlings do not:

“This land belongs to the Watch,” Jon said.
Her nostrils flared. “No one lives here.”
“Your raiders drove them off.”
“They were cowards, then. If they wanted the land they should have stayed and fought.”
Maybe they were tired of fighting. Tired of barring their doors every night and wondering if Rattleshirt or someone like him would break them down to carry off their wives. Tired of having their harvests stolen, and any valuables they might have. It’s easier to move beyond the reach of raiders.” But if the Wall should fail, all the north will lie within the reach of raiders.

Stannis. Stannis is the monarch who uses the act of saving Westeros as a marketing campaign to convince people he’s the rightful king. After conquering the wildlings, he gives them a choice: death by ice, or death by fire. They can either pass through the Wall and kneel; or remain free but stay north of the Wall and freeze. He wants to convert them to his religion - a religion which just happens to position him as the world’s savior, Azor Ahai. 

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the most maddening part of having high self-esteem and depression is the part where you hate yourself and feel worthless, but at the same time you know that you don’t really hate yourself, and both sets of feelings are Real And Valid™, and you know this, and you can’t not believe one or the other, so even though it makes no sense you are filled with equal parts self-love and self-loathing and you just want to crawl in a hole and die

but also hold your head up and keep moving forward, because life is beautiful and you are a wonderful person

I was being pulled, pulled through four-feet-wide alley, my feet dancing on chipped tiles, running next to the gurgling gutter, under a moon worth howling for. How can hands so small pull with such strength? I kept imagining myself tripping and falling, but I was certain I’d just be dragged along the tiles to our destination.

“It’s right past that power box,” the boy with the freshly-cut hair told me, his torn sleeveless undershirt flapping as he ran. The ancient grey power box only came into view after we’d made a sharp turn, and I imagined it powered a whole section of this slum. Somewhere nearby, someone was frying fish, even this late into the night.

“Through here,” the boy stopped and got down on all fours to crawl through a hole in a chain-link fence.

“I’m not sure if I can get through there, little buddy,” I said, bending down.

“Can you climb?” the boy asked.

I guess. I gripped the fence and lifted myself up. I’d never been one for physical adventures, so this scoop was bound to be a little challenging.

“That’s not how you climb at all, is this your first time?” the boy asked.

I grabbed a higher handhold and then hoisted myself over the top edge, my poor heart too shocked by this sudden exertion. I looked down, and before I could devise a strategy to calm down, I found myself approaching the ground faster and faster.

“Even I can climb better than that and I’m half your height,” the boy shook his head and offered me a hand. I got up and dusted myself, wishing that I could also dust the pain and embarrassment of the fall away.

The final alley was carved into a tiny garden, and the boy entered it. Three other boys had gathered there, and were all looking at a glowing set of letters on the red brick wall.

“Is he the writer?” one of the boys asked my guide, to which my guide nodded. He cleared the boys out of the way and watched me as I approached the writing.

“When did this show up?” I asked.

“A week ago. I think it changes every night. Nobody writes it, it just appears once it’s dark,” my guide explained.

“It doesn’t always change,” one of the boys corrected him, “Sometimes it’s the same. Like, yesterday’s was the same as Friday’s.”

The boys got into a debate over how true that assertion was. Meanwhile, I touched the glowing fluorescent green writing. It was warm to the touch, and it was deep. I inserted a finger into a strokes that formed a letter in a script I couldn’t read.

“This looks like an ancient script,” I explained to the boys, “It shows some similarity to modern lettering, but…”

My finger went all the way into the writing. I traced the writing, finger inside.

“It’s a bad sign,” one of the boys said, “It means something bad is going to happen. You should write that, too.”

I drew my hand out of the writing, and examined my finger, which was also glowing green now. I tasted it. Cranberry. Orange. Iron. Brick.

“It’s an ancient curse,” the same boy told me.

“Of course it is,” I said, looking at the writing one last time. “All writing is an ancient curse, until it comes true. Then it’s a prophecy.”

a fear, repeated-

if i’m being totally 
honest with myself,
i’d tell you
(again and again)
that i am truly fucking
i am scared beyond words
i am speechless
i am silenced
i am a wreck of emotion.
the thought of loss
or experiencing goodbyes
(the forever kind)
make me want to never
open my mouth again.
i feel like crawling into
a hole you have dug
and watching you
poor debris over my
suffocating me into
the empty eternity 
that is the earth.
i fear that just by accepting
that one truth,
that all of my other truths
will quickly collapse
around me-
this is an earthquake.
this is a meteor shower.
this is magnificence. 
although i fear loss
and losing you more than
i have ever feared before
i remain quiet
because this is the kind
of frightening disbelief
that will guide me
back into your arms
time and time again.

I fucking,, got my vaccine today and I forgot I had this stupid god damn pita pit temprary tattoo on my arm.

I lifted up my sleeve for the jab and the nurse p i s s e d herself this was so awful I’m gonna crawl into a hole for the next 12 years and hide myself from the world in an act of shame.

ok but imagine Pidge as the Toddler From Hell™ terrorizing teenage Matt and Shiro (but mostly Matt)

  • Shiro comes over to hang out with Matt and they’re left home alone to look after Pidge. Somehow Shiro accidentally lets the f-word slip in front of lil toddler Pidge and suddenly Pidge is running around the house screaming “FUCK” at the top of her lungs.
    • Matt is chasing her, completely pale and trying to shush her while Shiro just: “SHIT I’m so sorry oh wait cRAP I DIDN’T MEAN TO–ohmygod I should shut up now I am so sorry….”
    • Pidge: “FUCK!! SHIT!! CRAP!!” (Matt is screaming in the background)
    • Later that night at dinner….
      • Sam @ Pidge: “So, sweetie, did you have fun with Matt and Shiro today?”
      • Pidge: “FUCK!!”
      • Matt goes white as a sheet, Sam turns red, and Colleen nearly faints
        • Matt takes the fall and says he accidentally said the f-word in front of Pidge, not Shiro
      • Years later, Pidge is like “holy crap isn’t Shiro the one who actually taught me the f-word” and Shiro’s like “oh fuck, I meAN SHIT I MEAN I DIDN’T, IT WASN’T ME IT WAS MATT!!”
  • Pidge tattled on Matt ALL THE TIME. Like the time he wanted to try driving their dad’s car and backed it into a trash can. Rip Matt.
    • Shiro actually caught Pidge in the act but he decided to join in rather than stop her
    • Later she secretly watches them play from the doorway when she got up to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night aND SHE FIGURES OUT THEY WERE GOING EASY ON HER SO SHE SITS HER ASS DOWN AND THROWS A FUCKING TANTRUM RIGHT THERE
    • The next time they play, Shiro and Matt play fairly per Pidge’s request, but of course she loses and proceeds to throw another tantrum :’)
  • Matt brings home a girl he has a crush on and PIDGE SHOWS HER HIS DIARY
    • Matt: “That is NOT MINE”
    • Pidge, with her hands on her hips: “Well my name isn’t MATT” *points at where Matt signed his name at the bottom of the page*
    • Shiro pops in to drop off something he borrowed from Matt and notices Matt and the girl are getting along really well and calls out, “Oh so you told her you like her?? That’s great buddy!!” and gives him a thumbs up. Matt wants to crawl into a hole and die.
      • The girl leaves 30 mins later and Shiro’s casually hanging around the kitchen like “uhhh sorry man I didn’t mean to fuck that up for you” and Matt just gives him A Look.
    • Shiro wins after Matt finally gets his tiny sister off him
    • Matt: “You’re my sister!! Who’s side are you on?!?!”
    • Pidge, sitting in Shiro’s lap with a sHIT-EATING GRIN ON HER FACE: “Shiro’s” :DDDDD (MATT FEELS SO BETRAYED)
  • Now Matt questions how he even dealt with Pidge as a kid and she’s just like “idk but you still love me so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯”

me after waiting five years for a game with a kickstarter that had 2 million dollars and a fandom that has been dead since 2013 to arise from the ashes so i can crawl back into my homestuck hole like the fucking goblin i am

Traits & Looks
  • Momo: I don't understand how some people can simply fall for guys based on their looks alone. Looks aren't everything. I'm mean look at Midoriya-san.
  • Ochako: Deku-kun might seem average. But he has a lot of qualities going for him.
  • Momo: *Nods* His drive to never give.
  • Ochako: *Smiles* His Goofy personality.
  • Momo: His willingness to help others.
  • Ochako: Etc. Etc.
  • Momo: See? There are more to a guy than their looks. And I'm glad we can-
  • Deku: *Walks past them* Hey Uraraka-san, Momo-san.
  • Ochako: Hi, Deku...kun?
  • Deku: *Had trained without a shirt on. Showing off his muscular chest*
  • Ochako & Momo: *Stares as Deku walks away*
  • Momo: Um...could...well.
  • Ochako: Wow...
  • Momo & Ochako: *Thinking* God he's hot.
Spring Breeze (Afterdeath) ~Vampire!Geno~


Alright, first of all, I’m sorry I took freakin’ forever X’D And I know what all ya’ll are thinking: “TRASHY- WHAT TOOK YOU SO LONG??”

Tbh have no excuse pfft 

But seriously, thank you guys so much for putting up with my bullshit and waiting for me :’) I hope this long-ass fanfic is enough to make it up to ya’ll, and if it isn’t, I’m sorry for being a failure-

Ever since school ended, I’ve been staying up till 3 AM writing because I wanted to get this done, but it took longer than I thought it would because originally, it wasn’t even supposed to be as long as it is right now. This is by far, my longest fanfic and it probably sucks.

Anywho, enough of my rambling. I’ll most likely die after posting this here and on Wattpad, but you guys deserve to read whatever I have created :^)

Also, please excuse if you spot any mistakes. It’s hard to spot every one of them, especially with one this long. Plus, I’m so tried X’D

Have fun-

Word Count: 17,299

Click HERE to go to my Fanfic Archive. There, you can easily find any of my past works :) 

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Sweet Tooth- A Remus Lupin Imagine

A/N: Another two posts in one night! This is a little tribute to the fact that I already have reached over 100 followers on here, which is baffling?? Thank you all so much for supporting me so much in the very short time I have been on here. I’m so very glad that I have done this and I hope to be getting to some requests that I have received recently, as well! I digress. I hope you enjoy this Remus smut in celebration. This is my very first attempt at writing anything of the sort so sorry if it is no good! Enjoy~

Warning: SMUT 

Originally posted by perfectfeelings

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