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tsarinatorment · 2 years

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About a week ago, I posted a WIP graphic that represented a bunch of the Apollo kids (mostly ocs but including canon) using their camp necklaces. At the time, it went back to only kids that were in camp when Will was, but that’s now been expanded as far back as all the kids Lee ever knew!

Another change is the post-TOA year bead; originally I had a design for The Sun and the Stars, but as that book’s looking more and more like it’s taking place the same summer as TON and therefore won’t have its own bead, I’ve replaced it with a new design!

As always, bead designs are free to borrow with credit, but please don’t use my ocs’ names! (You are, however, welcome to use the full names I’ve assigned to Yan, Jerry and Gracie, once again with credit).

Questions about the beads or the ocs or canon kids are all very welcome!

I’ll list their names properly under the cut in case the graphic’s a bit hard to read, as well as preferred names if different, pronouns and nationalities! Head counsellors are also indicated, and whether they’re an oc, named canon character, or unnamed canon character.

All are listed in order of arrival at camp.

Kim Ha-Yoon // 김 하윤 (she/her); South Korean (*head counsellor) - oc Kelly Boyd (she/her); Irish - oc Ray Strickland (he/him); American - oc Aarohi Sengupta // আরহী সেনগুপ্ত (she/her); Indian/Bengali - oc Owen Bell (he/him); American - oc Lasse Åkerström (he/him); Swedish - oc Elizabeth “Lizzy” White (she/her); American (*head counsellor) - oc Gabriel Moss (he/him); American - oc Mitchell “Mitch” Green (he/him); Canadian - oc Gilbert “Gil” Weeks (he/him); American - oc Michelle Best (she/her); American - oc Lauren Best (she/her); American - oc Emily Teague (she/her); American (*head counsellor) - oc Baird McNeilly (he/him); Scottish - oc Clara Wolff (she/her); German - oc Lyam Pastrana (he/him); Puerto Rican - oc Ceridwen “Ceri” Priddy (she/her); Welsh - oc Lee Fletcher (he/him); American (*head counsellor) - named canon Yvonne Calvert (she/her); Canadian - oc Laura Piper (she/her); American - oc Melody York (she/her); American - oc Helen Sangster (she/her); American - oc Brendan Howard (he/him); Canadian - oc Reece Gold (he/him); American - oc Bran Thrussell (he/him); American - oc Daisy Teague (she/her); American - oc Michael Yew (he/him); American (*head counsellor) - named canon Lear Howard (he/him); Canadian - oc Lawrence Hunter (he/him); Canadian - oc Dawn Harper (she/her); American - oc Phoebe Buckley (she/her); American - oc William “Will” Solace (he/him); American (*head counsellor) - named canon Morton Shepherd (he/him); American - oc Robyn Archer (she/her); American - oc Xavier Campara (he/him); Spanish - oc Joy Norris (she/her); American - oc Alice Tuner (she/her); American - oc Nye Rimmer (he/him); American - oc Sally Farmer (she/her); American - oc Elias Robinson (he/him); American - oc Nathan Lister (he/him); American - unnamed canon Tristan “Tris” Barnes (he/him); Canadian - oc Samson “Sam” Clair (he/him); American - oc Austin Lake (he/him); American - named canon Kayla Knowles (she/her); Canadian - named canon Raphael Diego (he/him); Mexican - oc Emma Bard (she/her); American - oc Cheung Yan // 张焰 (they/them); Chinese/Hong-Kong - (half-)named canon Jeremy “Jerry” Allen (he/him); English - (half-)named canon Gracie Crowe (she/her); American - (half-)named canon Merida Stringer (she/her); Scottish - oc Robin Stringer (he/him); Scottish - oc

(a huge thanks to @burning-moths, their unnamed friend, and @ferodactyl for helping me with Ha-Yoon, Aarohi and Yan’s names and being general sensitivity checkers. Of course, any persisting mistakes are all on me, not them!)

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darklydeliciousdesires · 2 years

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Not One of Many - Chapter Two.

Since I’ve now completed Upon Darkened Shores, this will replace its posting days of Monday and Thursday, maybe with the odd chapter thrown in here and there too as an extra treat since this story is virtually writing itself right now. Alfie as a muse is a force to be reckoned with, besties! I’m looking forward to your thoughts, as always :)

Previous chapters - Prologue One

Tag list - In the comments

Words - 3,074

Warnings - 18+ for later chapters. Minors DNI!

“Right then, princess. Get out my bleedin’ way. Clothes horse to the rescue.”

Magda. If there was one person Beth could count on in a clothing crisis, it was her best friend.

“Thanks so much, Mags. I really appreciate it,” she spoke, Magda pausing from towing dress bags through the lounge door of her small Putney flat.

“You can appreciate me with brunch on the corner once a decision has been made. Hurry up, I’m fucking Hank Marvin’!” Beth had never been one for cockney rhyming slang, but her bestie was a huge proponent of such. Closing the door and following her in, Magda was laying out the bags carefully upon the sofa when she entered the lounge, turning to Beth. “Right, where did you say, again?”

“Lunch, Notting Hill.”

“A location would be useful,” Magda further prompted.

“The Ledbury.”

Picking up a bag, she moved it over to the desk chair. “That’s those two out. Right, now, bear with me. I know you always say you don’t suit grey, but you’re full of shit and I’ve crapped more knowledge after a bran flake induced bowel movement than you’ll ever bloody know about fashion, so just take a look.”

She was on form, as usual. Mind you, Magda only ever had one form. Talking and gesticulating at a thousand miles an hour, with a delivery blunter than a spoon. “Here, look at this. Ralph Lauren, and a size bigger than you usually take, but they do run small, so I’ve noticed.”

“Hmmm,” Beth mused, taking in the wool, iron grey dress.

“Get it on!”

Saluting Magda as she pulled out the next offering, she changed out of her joggers and vest, wiggling into the dress, reaching behind herself to fasten the zip.

“Always freaks me out when you do that, Miss Rubber Shoulders,” Magda shuddered, on account of the fact Beth was double jointed, so had no issues doing up her own zips. “Right, let me see you.” She paused for all of three seconds. “Nope, get it off. It ain’t that one.”

Usually, she would have liked to have vetoed an outfit herself before a decision was made, but Magda, being the chief fashion stylist for the UK publication of ELLE Magazine, certainly knew what she was talking about. “Right, Max Mara. Actually, no. I don’t like that neck on you. Bear with me.”

She raided the bags with the same zeal as Winnie the Pooh attacking a honey jar, pulling garments from within until she landed on what she was looking for. “Versace! If in doubt, go with Versace. Donatella might have a face that looks like one of those heads they hang on the back of a door in Peru, but she knows her bloody dresses.”

Beth burst out laughing at her analogy, taking the baroque bodycon dress and slipping it on, Magda assisting with evening out the stretchy fabric. “That’s it, girl. That’s the one! That and your little sandals with the gold clasps. Perfecto. Right, get the hell out of it and feed me!”

“Are you sure it isn’t too much?” Beth asked tentatively.

“You’re interviewing Alfie Solomons, ain’t you?”

“I am.”

“And he’s a power player on the circuit, so you need the power dress. You turn up in fast fashion and he’s gonna take you about as seriously as if you’d just walked in wearing a clown suit. I still can’t believe you’ve never heard of the fella either. Only fucking owns half of bloody London.”

“I wasn’t going to wear fast fashion!”

“It still disgusts me that you buy it. Bleugh. Hurry up!” With her marching orders in place, she went and changed into her jeans and a shirt, pulling on her flip flops (Primark, to Magda’s distain) and picking up her bag (which was Chanel, to Magda’s joy) before they exited the flat and walked to Romero’s on the corner for the promised brunch.

“He doesn’t own half of London, by the way. Just a lucrative percentage of it,” Beth chirped after they’d put their order in, Magda pausing from guzzling her black coffee for a second, her face incredulous.

“You know he just bought The Pendulum, don’t you?” She did not. The Pendulum was one of the chicest boutique hotels in the city, with rooms starting at an eye watering tariff of £1,000 a night.

“How is it that you know so much about him and I don’t?”

Magda snorted, pulling her Marlboro Lights from her bag and lighting one up, likely the first of many. “Because you live under a bloody rock, apparently.” she paused, bobbing her tongue out playfully, Beth making her roar when she stuck her middle finger up discreetly. “He’s a big deal, that man. And he used to date Tiff, one of my wardrobe assistants. She was one of four. You know that too, don’t you, that the guy thinks he’s Hugh bloody Hefner with the multiple girlfriends, except he’s fucking sexy as fuck and not old. Or dead now, rather.”

Beth’s ears pricked up at such a revelation, that Magda knew someone he’d previously dated. “Oh really? And what did Tiff have to say about him?”

“Not much, really. Other than he spoiled her rotten and had a cock like a baby’s arm holding an apple.” Another of Magda’s classic analogies, causing Beth to spray a mouthful of foam over the table, her friend included. “Oi! Watch it, this is vintage, making me look like I’ve been bloody cum all over!” Swatting at the flecks of foam from her light jacket, she glared at Beth, that glare eventually turning into a grin.

“You’re so dirty.”

“Like you ain’t!”

“I have my moments, but you’re a constant stream of pure filth, Mags.”

Raising her coffee cup, her grin widened to Cheshire cat proportions. “That’s why you love me! Now, tell me in as many words what the viper had to say about your article, because personally I think she’s talking out of her bloody arse.”

Magda would think that, though, almost always having Beth’s side where her journalistic endeavours were concerned. She was staunch in her support, yet would tell her if she thought anything she’d written had missed the mark. She’d read her piece on childless by choice women and loved it, so took great umbrage with Madeline’s refusal to publish it.

“Saccharine bullshit?” she exclaimed, once Beth was done relaying the meeting. “So, it’s saccharine now, for a woman to relish in the declaration that her ovaries purely ornamental? Pah. Just because she’s a bloody breeder.” At thirty-eight, Magda had decided long ago that children were not in her future. She and her husband, Dennis, loved their four rottweilers like they were children, though. Besides, Dennis, being twenty years her senior, had two kids from his first marriage, so it was of no issue to him, Magda’s choice not to have any.

“I mean, it’s not as if I even did that, though. My personal stance was that children aren’t in my immediate future as a twenty-nine-year-old woman, and that I would like to become a mother eventually, just not now. I make no apology for speaking with pride about my decisions and detailing how myself and others truly are extremely content in our choices as well. There’s nothing saccharine about that.”

She paused, sipping her coffee, contemplative. “However, maybe I should revisit it and take the criticism. I won’t improve unless I do.”

“Or tout it to another publication?” Magda suggested, drawing gently on her cigarette. “Then, you see, if you receive similar critique, you’ll know it was an issue with your writing and not something down to Madeline’s personal preference.”

Beth had considered such, but if she was honest, her confidence in her words had taken a little bit of a knock, hence why she hadn’t taken the steps to reach out to any other editors as yet. Freelance journalism was tough in that respect, no guarantees of publication and having to people please in order to receive attention. Perhaps her article might please somebody else, though.

After two plates of food (scrambled eggs for Beth, eggs Benedict for Magda) had been polished off, Magda had to dash to get to her appointment later that afternoon, Beth heading home to begin emailing out her rejected article to a few of her contacts in the press, hoping that someone else out there might find her words worthy of print. She didn’t worry too much over it if they didn’t, though, because she knew she’d be onto a winner with her next planned piece, the subject of which she would meet in three days' time.

When Saturday arrived, she was up and out of the house by 9am to arrive early for her 9;45am meeting, being greeted with much more enthusiasm for her other piece, a write up on the disturbing trend of FGM and the impact it had upon women and girls, discussing the condemnation in the face of cultural tradition. She left on a high, her article accepted and praise heaped upon her, rushing back home via tube and running all the way from Putney station to her flat, showering again quickly and smothering herself in lotion before pulling on the beautiful Versace dress, touching up her makeup and calling an Uber to get her to Notting Hill on time.

“Hello, flower.” Rising from his seat upon her arrival at The Ledbury, Alfie kissed her cheek in greeting, pulling her chair out for her. Very gentlemanly. “You’re early, and you look stunning.”

“Thank you.”

“You definitely suit Versace,” he continued, the waiter arriving with them. “Mind if I order for you, treacle? They have a red here I think you’d enjoy.”

“Yes, no problem,” Beth confirmed, moving her chair a little closer to the table.

“The 2019 Merlot, please. And a soda water, lots of ice. Cheers, fella.” The waiter departed swiftly with a nod, Beth noticing a trend with his drinks, that being they lacked any alcohol.

“You don’t drink?” she inquired, Alfie shaking his head.

“So seldomly it would be fair to say I don’t, no. I enjoy the same as you when I do partake though, sometimes the odd pint of Guinness an’ all, but those occasions are very few and far between. Oh, I took the liberty of requesting a non-treif menu for lunch. It’s a set taster, but strings can be pulled for dietary requirements, although I have no clue over your flexibility where Kosher is concerned, I didn’t want to risk it.”

Very attentive, Beth noted. “I’m fairly relaxed. How about you?”

“Well, I was raised Orthodox, but as I’ve grown, I’ve learned heavily to Liberal, or as my mother refers to it as, a bad Jew. I suppose I am in a lot of ways, really. I ain’t a good boy by a long shot.” The look in his eye eluded very clearly to Beth that dietary stipulations were not solely what he referred to there. “Still, though, I don’t touch treif, although I’m more relaxed about Kosher slaughter if I’m eating meat anywhere but home. I confess, sometimes I’ll be cursing Amira while she’s sitting there chomping on a fuckin’ bacon sandwich because it smells so bloody good,” he chuckled.

The waiter arrived with their drinks, Alfie thanking him courteously before turning his focus back to Beth. “And you?”

“The same, funnily enough, except I was raised Liberal so my parents weren’t massively strict about eating out. Still, though, I was never allowed a cheeseburger, and I’ve never eaten one since moving out from under their watchful eyes, either,” she revealed, Alfie raising his eyebrows.

“I bloody love those things,” he laughed, shaking his head but not looking ashamed. “My mother wouldn’t half wallop me for it.” Of course, part of the Kosher rules stipulated that meat and dairy were never to be eaten together.

“How very meshuggeneh of you!” she teased, sipping her wine.

“I know. Like I said, I’m a bad boy.”

She smirked, leaning forward a little. “A badge you wear with much pride.”

He mimicked her movement, his face a picture of levity. “If only you knew the half of it.”

“I’m hoping I will, once our interview commences.”

He chuckled, winking. “At least two thirds couldn’t be detailed within a public place.”

Circling the rim of her wine glass with her fingernail, she couldn’t help herself. “Those being non-verbal in the demonstrative?”

Alfie smirked. “That’d all depend on you, darlin’.” Oh yes. He was a bad boy, but Beth could easily give as good as she got.

“Would it? Personally, I’m of the opinion it would be more the other way around, if you catch my drift.” He did, and he felt himself pulled towards the beautiful, witty woman across from him all the more. His girlfriends, he never had that kind of verbal play with him. They weren’t dim-witted, but even basic nuance sometimes sailed right over their heads. He enjoyed a woman who bit back, who he could have a bit of fun with. “Now, I believe we have an interview to conduct, all banter aside.”

Taking her phone, she opened up the voice note recorder, hitting record before placing it back on the table gently. “So, Alfie. Give me a little bit of background behind the man slowly buying up London’s hospitality industry one venue at a time.”

“How far back do you wish for me to detail?”

She shrugged, straightening her fork. “At the beginning? But abridged.”

“Alright, can do. What you need to understand first though, yeah, is that I built what I have from literally nothing, Beth. I had fuck all, right, born a poor, Jewish lad on the third of December nineteen eighty-four, raised in Camden, the first child of second-generation Russian immigrants, Sarra and Boris Solomons. I have two younger sisters, who my mother raised mostly alone, since the old man died of cancer when I was six. Losing my dad young was what gave me the drive to succeed, watching mum struggle. I always maintained that I’d make a success of myself, and I did. By the time I hit twenty-six, I’d gone from barman, to bar manager, to eventually bar owner.”

“And how did you raise that kind of capital, in order to facilitate the purchase of your first bar? Also, where was it located, and do you still own it?”

“A combination of maxed out credit cards, bank loans and the gift of the gab with investors. I’d paid the lot off within the first two years of Penny Black’s opening, and yeah, I still own it. I’d never part with it now, I’m a sentimental ole’ bugger like that. It’s over in Ealing. Ever heard of it?”

Beth smiled with nostalgia. “Heard of it? It was my local when I was at uni.”

“Yeah? Fuckin’ ‘ell!” he exclaimed, pleasantly surprised at such a coincidence. “So, what uni were you at? West London?”

“Good guess,” she confirmed, nodding. “How about you?”

“I did an NVQ in business and finance at college, then studied for my BA in the same around working two bar jobs. Fucking knackered me right out, but it was worth it. So, tell me. What was your first break in writing?”

She looked at him somewhat curiously, licking her lips momentarily, the action sending a pleasant shiver through him. “Who’s interviewing who here, Alfie?”

He laughed softly, stroking his beard before sipping his drink. “Well, you to me. It don’t mean I can’t get to know my beautiful interviewer a little while she goes about her work, though.”

She gave him a subtle smile, cocking her head. “It does when you derail my questions.”

“Ooh, she’s fierce.”

“Correct. So, tell me what challenges do you most commonly face, running a small empire the likes of which you do? I discovered you have quite the profitable portfolio of establishments within your ownership.”

He paused for thought for a moment, long enough to sip his soda, crushing a large piece of ice between his back teeth. “Trying to do too much of it myself. Because I’m a bloody perfectionist, you see, and I wear myself too fuckin’ thin a lot of the time, since I know how I like things to be done, and very few can accomplish the tasks I set them with quite the same proficiency.”

He was so very confident in himself, but it never came across as arrogance to Beth. His conviction was cool, his faith in himself solid and unshakable. She found that notable, the fact that he wasn’t attempting to impress her by being overly grandiose.

“And what does a typical day look like for you?”

“I’m awake at six to get a workout in, shower and then have breakfast. I head into my home office for 7:30am, where I spend most of my day unless I have meetings to attend, then pause for lunch if time permits, finish at about four, walk my dog for a couple of hours over the park while glued to my phone answering emails and taking calls, then depending on the day, out with one or all three of my girls on the night, or enjoying my own company.”

“Yes,” she began, clearing her throat. “About that. Dating three women at once.”

Adjusting one of the two chunky, gold rings he wore, he looked out from long, light brown eyelashes, his mouth upturning. “Why do I get the distinct impression, yeah, Bethany with the lovely legs, that it’s this side of my life that holds the most fascination for you?”

“I am equally interested in hearing you discuss your business ventures and successes as I am the inner workings of your love life, but from the perspective of selling the article, I know what will draw the most focus with the readers.” The way she held his gaze so firmly and spoke with such confidence impressed him, but he couldn’t help himself.

“Because sex sells?”

“It certainly does.”

“I admire that honesty. Because we all love shagging, don’t we?”

She took a piece of her hair, twirling it around her finger, the action speaking loudly to him. “In my game, I’m all about the truth. So, care to indulge me?”

He snorted softly, scratching his chin, smile widening. “I’d do a lot more than that to you, Beth.”

It was about to become an interesting interview, she sensed.

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henryspearl · 1 year

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this is like a branning reunion with jack and lauren 🥺

#ee lb

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seanslaters · 10 months

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#eastenders #eastendersedit #eeedit #peter x lauren #lauren branning #peter beale #22.06.2023 #*#clenners is gonna get jac to come back full time at some point i just know it #i feel it in my waters

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freddieslater · 7 months

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I wonder how Lauren is going to react around Bobby.

That's a good point! I have absolutely no idea how she might react around him as I'm not sure we got a ton of interaction between them in the past? Or even more recently. And we obviously know she and Lucy were close, but as Peter has forgiven him, perhaps Lauren will be able to move past it as well.

#oh look a wild anonymoose #ask away earthlings!#eastenders #lauren branning #bobby beale

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jackbatchelor3 · 4 months

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We all miss Abi.

😔💔

#EastEnders #EE LB #Lauren Branning #Abi Branning

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aquamanandfriends · 8 days

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A VERY DESCRIPTIVE PROFILE OF YOUR MUSE !!

Repost with the information of your muse, including headcanons, etc. if you fail to achieve some of the facts, add some other of your own!

► NAME: brixton damon mortimer ► NICKNAME: brix, bricky ► TITLE(S): actor. ► AGE: 21-45. ► SPECIES: human. ► SEX: male. ► NATIONALITY: american. ► INTERESTS: acting methods, 007 movies, 80's films, punk rock music, cinema history, photography, documentaries, all saints button ups, social media, local coffee brews, true crime, video games, rayban sunglasses, theaters and new releases ► PROFESSION: actor. ► EYES: brown. ► HAIR: short but a bit shaggy ► POSTURE: straight, alert ► HEIGHT: 5'10". ► VOICE: low and smooth, when casual he speaks faster and with higher pitched endings to sentences. ► SIGNATURE OUTFIT: blundstones, or cole haan's which he is a bran ambassador for, all saints button down or pain shirt with skinny jeans or joggers, some times a Ralph Lauren flannel and Champions hoodie, and a leather or members only jacket with raybans-- he wears brands and only top tier ► SIGNIFICANT OTHER: totally verse dependent ► COMPANIONS: he has a few friends with benefits. Brixton is a pathological liar and struggles to maintain friendships. ► ANTAGONISTS: people going out for the same role as him. Exes. People he's burned with his lies. ► STRENGTHS: committing to a role, manipulation, acting, delectating lies, reading people, accents, making people feel an emotion, massages, oral sex, hosting, swimming, rock climbing ► WEAKNESSES: ice, good movie scores, films, brownies, strawberry lipbomb, brown eyes, Indiana Jones ► FRUITS: bananas, kiwi, peaches, berries ► DRINKS: kombucha, water, diet coke ► ALCOHOLIC BEVERAGES: dark and stormy, white russian, gin and tonic ► SMOKES: yes ► DRUGS: yes ► DRIVER’S LICENSE: yes

tagged by @mondayxmorning anyone can use this lol

#【 brixton mortimer ❖ headcanon 】#【 brixton mortimer ❖ musing 】#【 write it or lose it ❖ headcanon 】

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atopvisenyashill · 3 months

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asoiaf songs

i used to make playlists and fanmixes allllll the time (rip 8tracks, you were a real one) and I had a lil mini asoiaf to listen to when i was reading, i'm gonna subject everyone to the songs now.

time to pretend - bran stark

I'll miss the comfort of my mother And the weight of the world I'll miss my sister, miss my father, miss my dog and my home Yeah, I'll miss the boredom And the freedom and the time spent alone But there is really nothing, nothing we can do Love must be forgotten, life can always start up anew

there was a gifset with this song that i saw years ago and i dug through my entire asoiaf tag on my other blog and couldn't find it i'm devastated!!!

the parting glass (the version from twd with emily kinney and lauren cohan) - starklings

but since it falls unto my lot that i should rise and you should not i’ll gently rise and i’ll softly call goodnight and joy be with you all

swear to god, right after the red wedding aired, someone made a sad ass starklings graphic with those line and it ruined my whole year and once again i can't find it.

bang bang (my baby shot me down) - theon/robb

Now he's gone, I don't know why And 'til this day, sometimes I cry He didn't even say goodbye He didn't take the time to lie Bang bang, he shot me down Bang bang, I hit the ground Bang bang, that awful sound Bang bang, my baby shot me down

until we bleed - jon/ygritte

You wasted your times On my heart you've burned And if bridges gotta fall Then you'll fall, too Doors slam, lights black You're gone, come back Stay gone, stay clean I need you to need me So we're bound to linger on We drink the fatal drop Then love until we bleed Then fall apart in parts

(this one came from my seventeen year old brain and they're a genius for it honestly)

blood in the water - cersei lannister

Now I am the violence I am the sickness Won't accept your silence Beg me for forgiveness We'll never get free Lamb to the slaughter What you gon' do when there's blood in the water? The price of your greed, your son and your daughter What you gon' do when there's blood in the water?

(also just my brain, although really, you could apply this song to a lot of characters, i just think it fits cersei's story the best)

king - rhaenyra/daenerys

The very thing you're best at is the thing that hurts the most But you need your rotten heart Your dazzling pain like diamond rings You need to go to war to find material to sing I am no mother, I am no bride, I am king I need my golden crown of sorrow My bloody sword to swing My empty halls to echo with grand self-mythology I am no mother, I am no bride, I am king

would that i - braime

With each love I cut loose I was never the same Watching still living roots be consumed by the flame I was fixed on your hand of gold Laying waste to my lovin' long ago And it's not tonight Where I'm set alight And I blink in sight Your blinding light Oh, it's not tonight You hold me tight And the fire bright Oh, let it blaze alright, honey Oh, but you're good to me Oh, you're good to me Oh, but you're good to me, baby

(this one was my brain too, although recent obviously)

no sound but the wind - robb stark

We can never go home We no longer have one I'll help you carry the load I'll carry you in my arms We walk through the ash And the charred remains of our country Keep an eye on my back I'll keep an eye on the road Help me to carry the fire To keep it alight together Help me to carry the fire This road won't go on forever

immigrants we get the job done - varys

Man, I was brave, sailing on graves Don't think I didn't notice those tombstones disguised as waves I'm no dummy, here is something funny, you can be an immigrant without risking your lives Or crossing these borders with thrifty supplies All you got to do is see the world with new eyes

endless night - bran stark

You promised you'd be there Whenever I needed you Whenever I call your name You're not anywhere I'm trying to hold on Just waiting to hear your voice One word, just a word will do To end this nightmare I know that the night must end And that the sun will rise And that the sun will rise

THIS IS MY ULTIMATE BRAN SONG.

#getting on my soap box #u can tell when i’m working in children’s bc i’m on here all day lmao #i'm so mad i couldn't find those graphics i am not joking when i say i went through like 70 pages of asoiaf content alsjdflkjd #if anyone knows what i'm talking about tho.......send me the link :(((((((

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