I keep thinking oh man, I’m so immature. How am I allowed to be an adult.
Then I spend time with teenagers.
And it’s like, wow, okay, yeah. I am an adult. I am so adult. Look at me adulting all over the place.
“i want to wear shorts because it’s hot but i really hate my legs” an autobiography
“I want to wear shorts but i didnt shave” the sequel.
“I want to wear shorts but I don’t tan and I’d rather not blind you” The trilogy
“I want to wear shorts but my huge dick always sticks out” a pop-up book
a pop up book
Arya storms through the riverlands with Nymeria and her pack of wolves, destroying every army in her path. She becomes what Robb never fully was - a wolf, a warrior who is completely in tune with her dire wolf until they are one and the same. She no longer yearns for home or for family because this has taken the place and filled the hole in her heart - she finally has the brothers and sisters (fierce and terrible and hers) that she can trust. She becomes more animalistic every day, fighting viciously, never surrendering to any man. She makes her way to Winterfell, leaving terror in her wake, destroying any soldiers that get in her way (but never touching the small folk of course). She breaks the gates at Winterfell, decimates the Bolton armies, and tears out Ramsay’s neck with her own teeth.
And what else matters, to be honest.
George and Alanna were my OTP fifteen years before I even heard the term ‘OTP’.