Fic Writer. Professional Procrastinator. Curmudgeon. Human Disaster. Salty Winter Adult. A S-T-A-U-N-C-H Character. Member of the Spice Girls Generation.
tumblr is, if anything, the Appalachia of social media...easy to get lost, sparsely populated, out of the loop with fast-moving modern trends. Attached to tradition. Close-knit communities. Believe in "talk shit, get hit." Everyone is doing their own thing in their own obscure little holler. Prone to pulling the most inventive turns of phrase you've ever heard out of nowhere. Somebody's always starting a racket. We sometimes repel outsiders with much aggression. Lots of talk about hell and damnation to be found. Everybody tends to forget about us for some reason
before directors are allowed to put in the request for cgi they should be required to answer: “would lord of the rings have been able to do this by sitting somebody a little further back, using an apple box, or putting out a casting call for a really big pig?” and if the answer is yes they should consider finding a really big pig.
iroh: once, i told zuko that he needs to work on his inter turmoil. he screamed at me that he had no such inner turmoil, and then proceeded to go to a cliff during a thunderstorm to scream at God to strike him with lightning
alfred: master bruce and i have that interaction at least three times per week.
hey bruce spent a lot of his bat-study abroad in the far east and has kind of a weeb weapon collection so proposal, what if Bruce appreciates Iroh’s tea
while Zuko is enthusiastic about cream and sugar
further fueling their dad-figures’ passive-aggressive rivalry?
Wow I'm tired. It took me a minute to figure out how Vader has Mark Hamill nemesis when Vader is live action and not animated. I'm... going to bed now.
Started working on the current WIP I'm trying to finish, but got distracted (as per usual) and started writing on this old ficlet instead. Posting a small teaser. Not sure if I should pick it back up fully or not. It's High School AU. Jaime is the school's star pitcher who broke his arm. Lyanna's is his English tutor and maybe sort of friend. Maybe.
Lyanna whistles low under her breath, a Sharpie hovering over his cast.
“Talk about limited real estate,” she teases, surveying the scrawl of names that cover nearly every inch of the blue fiberglass bandages winding up to his elbow.
Jaime shrugs, looking down at the signatures. They belong mostly to Cersei’s friends. Taena Merriweather’s name is particularly prominent taking up a stretch on the side of his forearm. Jaime still remembers the way his sister scowled when she’d first seen Taena’s large looping script and series of X’s and O’s.
“People like me,” Jaime grins when he catches the way Lyanna’s eyes linger on the pink hearts surrounding Lysa Tully’s name. “Don’t be jealous, Stark.”
“Uh-huh.”
Next to them, Lyanna’s phone buzzes on the table. A new text.
Aside from the timer she sets fastidiously at 4:30 on the dot, Lyanna doesn’t tolerate phones during their tutoring sessions. Too much of a distraction. Jaime’s about to remind her of this but any smartass remark dies in his throat when he sees Lyanna’s face fall.
The phone buzzes again. Another text. He catches a glimpse of a contact name before she swipes it up. It simply reads “Babe” followed by a kiss emoji.
Jaime tries not to pay attention as Lyanna types out a reply, brows pinched into a frown. He pretends to turn back to where Tennyson’s ‘Ullyses’ lies open and abandoned.
“I am become a name;
For always roaming with a hungry heart…”
Jaime reads the words carefully, three times over, but they don’t sink in.
“Ow!” he yelps when Lyanna tugs his arm back towards her. “I’m already broken, Lya!”
She tuts, unimpressed as she gently pulls his arm closer, angling it so his palm faces her.
“Don’t be a baby!”
Jaime watches her as she carefully writes on his cast.
“There!” Lyanna caps the marker, satisfied. “And there's plenty of room left for the rest of your harem.”
Jaime pulls his arm back, searching until he spots a tidy but tiny Lya scrawled up the inside of his thumb. Next to it, there is an even tinier smiley face. Jaime fights a smile of his own.
“You could play come into my castle with her, she likes that game,” Rickon offered helpfully.
Jon desperately wants an evening alone with his wife. Unfortunately, Rickon is determined to protect his dear sister from Jon's less than honorable intentions. Challenged to yet another duel, and running out of champions, Jon decides to find another way to solve his problems so he can finally come into Sansa's castle.
The pursuit of non-bath time happiness 3k by @captainbee89
After Jon refuses Gendry's ask for Arya's hand, citing the fact Sansa was not yet betrothed, Rickon observes and, with the help of Shaggydog, Ghost and Arya, comes up with a plan to have Jon realise he should court Sansa himself. And if it were to result in Jon being less strict about bath times, that was totally coincidental!
Goodbye Means Going Away (And Going Away Means Forgetting) 2k by @vixleonard
Memory is unreliable. No one understands this better than Rickon Stark.
corresponding manip by @norrlands-nonsense
what this palace wants is release 26k WIP by @bravegentlestrong
When Sansa and Jon show up at Bear Island, Rickon is already there holding court as King in the North and planning a war with Lyanna Mormont. They look exactly like the parents who he lost. Once Jon and Sansa take over the whole ruling-the-kingdom thing, Lyanna and Rickon use their political capital to parent trap Jon and Sansa.
No Smooth Road 4k by @maybetwice
Jon and Sansa are in love. It ought to be as simple as that.
His King's Command ficlet by @vivilove-jonsa
“Sansa wants a babe. You should give her one.”
Jon had been cleaning Longclaw but glances up at his king, his ten-years-old cousin, who is staring at him expectantly with his arms crossed.
Rickon's Refuge 1k by @vivilove-jonsa
On those nights, Rickon feels like a child of eight, not a man grown. On those nights, he seeks out Sansa, a tolerable replacement for the mother he lost, the one he barely remembers now, though that is not in his conscious thoughts.
She lets him lie in her bed. She will stroke his hair softly and sing. He's never told her but he likes that. It makes him feel safe and loved and like he still has a mother who isn't a faded memory.
“Rickon? What are you doing in here?”
He scowls at the deep voice even though he loves him.
“What are you doing in here?!” he asks sharply in reply to Jon’s question, the petulance plain in his tone.
Marry Me In Some Old-Fashioned Way 2k by @blackholeofprocrastination
A misunderstanding with Rickon leads Jon to reconsider his future at Winterfell and his feelings towards its red-haired mistress.
PRE CANON - WESTERN - FAIRYTALE - REGENCY - LITTLE WOMEN - HOLIDAY - SEASON SIX - ANNE OF GREEN GABLES - THE GIRL IN GREY - FREE CITIES - FAIRYTALE PART II - POLITICAL MARRIAGE - SALTY TEENS - POST CANON - next time -> HISTORICAL: 1930S
CGI de-aging will never hold a candle to the power of sitcom characters appearing in flashbacks to college or even high school looking exactly as they do in the present day, played by actors in their 30s or more, but wearing a wig to give them a hairstyle that was fashionable at the time but deeply dated now
So myself and two best friends got matching tattoos that say Κύριε ἐλέησον. It’s pronounced Kyrie Eleison and in ancient Greek means “Lord have mercy.” It’s one of the oldest Christian liturgical prayers and features in the Bible, and when Christianity became Latinised, it as one of the only surviving Greek prayers.
Just for fun I plugged it into Google Translate to see what modern Greek thinks of it and
10/10 A+ tat so glad its marked on my skin forever, would tattoo again
