name / nickname: Angie/Beebee

age: 30

currently reading: How to be a Little Sod by Simon Brett

favorite color: Purple/blue

favorite flower: I like lillies and roses

number of muses: Many, with varying degrees of activity in my head. Shireen and Willoughby are my two biggest at the moment. 

favorite muse of yours: Varies with my mood :-) Shireen is loud at the moment.

favorite show: Hmm... I like quite a few anime series - they’re typically my comfort things to go to.

number of followers: 245 on Shireen (thank you everyone :-D )

number of starters: I don’t think I owe any at the moment. I have two replies queued up and nine to do.

last movie you saw: Jurassic World: Dominion. 

Tagged by: @severityforgreatness​

Tagging: @livesdngrsly @tooxldtorememxer @hallucineugenics @canonfoddcr @sacrificialmaiid

Michelle pressed her lips together at Margaery's words. She was right. He should have been.

❝ He's been-- much more on edge the past few days. I-- ❞ she allowed a small shake of her head before turning back to her.

It was late night, nearly midnight as the pair sat in front of the fire in Sansa’s room on the ground on a rug. Neither had been able to sleep and so they had ended up getting tea and cake and sitting gossiping in their robes and bed clothes. Tucking her hair behind her ear, Sansa grinned gently as she listened to her. Sansa’s hand ran through her long red hair and giggled softly. “Did you?” She asked raising her eyebrow. She couldn’t help but feel amused by the question, why on earth would she, how on earth could she ever?

He likes it when anger takes her. There is something so intriguing about the way it sets her emerald hues aflame, the way her body language shifts as if she is ready for battle.

He wonders how she would respond if he silenced her venom with kisses, threw her down and took her. But he does not act upon such wonderment, tries not to pay any mind to the stirring in his breeches. No, he will not risk causing his queen offence- they are yet to say the words. He is yet to become king.

"Careful?" He muses, pouring them both a cup of wine. "Careful is boring."

He presses one cup into her hand, taking a sip from his own. Gods, he much prefers ale.

"I did what you sent me out to do, did I not? Returned with twenty more ships and three hundred more men."

He leaves out the loss the Lannister army had suffered. It matters little to him.

Negan turned his attention to the young woman behind him, swinging Lucille over his shoulder and allowing a grin as he approached her.

❝ Well, SHIT! I believe the answer to that question is a big ol' resounding HELL YES! Sometimes examples need to be MADE in order to bring order to the chaos, darling.

From @severityforgreatness ' ask.

The stench of burning man still pervades his every sense even two days later. He had heard that such a smell is difficult to forget and as it would so happen, there is truth in such a statement.

Daenerys had flown in on her great black beast, obliterating vaste swathes of his army with such reckless abandon that it had struck fear right to Jaime's very core. Of course, he had tried to end it, rode at her with spear in hand, yet his plan had failed magnificently.

"No, I don't expect you to be impressed," he answers coolly as he stands in Cersei'd chambers, ashes and blood still clinging to his skin and armour. He had came straight to her upon his return. "Cersei...this is not a war we can win. If she can slay thousands of men with one dragon, what can she do with three?"

Her eyes sear him. Blue like the oceans but sinking into his soul like fish hooks. He wants to look away but he is caught under them. 

What didn’t he do? He wants to say. But that is a disloyal thought. A dangerous thought. A Theon thought. And that is why Theon had to go. 

His lips twitch and his hollow stomach twists painfully. He doesn’t know if it is due to the fear, or the gnawing hunger. Both are constant, though it is probably the hunger. 

“Nothing I didn’t deserve,” he tells her. “Lord Ramsay is a sweet man, a kind man,” he insists, trembling a like weirwood leaf in the winter winds. “He will be gentle to you.”

ahhhh! @severityforgreatness I miss you so much and I’m so sorry I haven’t written you back on @saltxwolf!!! I hope to be on later tonight thought!

I’m the WORST!