Mycroft: “Theres a bee on your face!”
Sherlock: “…can you please get it off?”
Mycroft: *casually shoos the bee away*
John: *Freaking Out and Loud™️ Near Tears* “How did you do that so casually!?!!!?!”
trying on a metaphor

oozey mess
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
dirt enthusiast
we're not kids anymore.
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
DEAR READER
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Kiana Khansmith
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Misplaced Lens Cap

Origami Around
Jules of Nature

roma★
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Peter Solarz

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Xuebing Du
art blog(derogatory)
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@fuckyeahabbington
Mycroft: “Theres a bee on your face!”
Sherlock: “…can you please get it off?”
Mycroft: *casually shoos the bee away*
John: *Freaking Out and Loud™️ Near Tears* “How did you do that so casually!?!!!?!”
sirius black claims to be a muggle when around wizards, looking at everything magic and being like WHAAAAAT
actual canon fact: all the rules of quidditch bar like three are all obvious patches for ‘don’t attack the keeper with a battleaxe’ or ‘don’t transfigure the quaffle into a troll’
Draco: I wasn't that wasted
Harry: You called Ron your friend
Draco:
Harry:
Draco: Merlin i am never drinking again
that scene in matilda where miss honey finally snaps and yells “because shes a spectacularly wonderful child and i love her!” > all of quentin tarantino’s filmography
THANK GOD FOR WHO EVER MADE THIS.
voldemort: i brought you here to play the deadliest game
harry: knife monopoly
voldemort: ...
voldemort: i was actually going to hunt you for sport, but now i'm really interested in whatever knife monopoly is
for @robbstark
Ned had lingered scarcely a fortnight with his new bride before he too had ridden off to war with promises on his lips. At least he had left her with more than words; he had given her a son. Nine moons had waxed and waned, and Robb had been born in Riverrun while his father still warred in the south. She had brought him forth in blood and pain, not knowing whether Ned would ever see him.
Cat really died thinking Ned cheated on her and brought back his bastard by another woman to live under her roof, with no regard for her honour or shame. She really died carrying fifteen years of pain Ned caused in trying to protect her. She really died thinking there was another woman Ned might have loved more than her, even though she was the only one.
She remembered her own childish disappointment, the first time she had laid eyes on Eddard Stark. She had pictured him as a younger version of his brother Brandon, but that was wrong. Ned was shorter and plainer of face, and so somber. He spoke courteously enough, but beneath the words she sensed a coolness that was all at odds with Brandon, whose mirths had been as wild as his rages. Even when he took her maidenhood, their love had more of duty to it than of passion. We made Robb that night, though; we made a king together. And after the war, at Winterfell, I had love enough for any woman, once I found the good sweet heart beneath Ned’s solemn face.
Ned/Cat 37 please
37. “Can I kiss you?”
She’s been prepared for this night her entire life, what to expect, how to act, to be quiet and pliant. To do her duty without complaint. But as she’s carried off through the halls of Riverrun by men she’d known since birth, her clothes more and more in tatters, her heartbeat quickens. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go, she’d thought…
Lord Stark is all but tossed into the room shortly after she is, and the door is pulled shut and all of a sudden it’s just the two of them, each completely bare or near enough. Eddard isn’t horrible to look at, all told, but he’s no Brandon and on top of that, even if he were Brandon she doesn’t know that this…this…this fear would be any less.
Filling her head is no longer the fanciful tales of romance and love, but the more brutish ones, of wives who cry themselves to sleep at night.
But she’s a Tully of Riverrun, and she will not cower, she cannot. She feels clammy and her heart is in her throat, but her hands are steady as she lets the remainder of her wedding dress drop to the ground.
Eddard looks her up and down only once before looking only into her eyes. If she didn’t know better, she’d say he’s as terrified as she is. He reaches up a hand as though to touch her cheek, but changes his mind halfway through.
“May I kiss you?” he asks her.
She blinks, taken aback. “What?”
A blush runs up his neck, but he asks again, “May I kiss you?”
“Why?”
“I would have you willing, Lady Catelyn.”
He isn’t Brandon, and this wasn’t her choice, but it wasn’t his either. And even though they must lie together, how many men would ask for her permission? Somehow, she has a feeling that if she’d told him no, he would wait.
It is that, and not anything else, that has her saying, “Yes, my lord, you may kiss me.”
Jon & Cat parallel: Last thought before death
I just realized that this scene:
Inside, Catelyn was waiting. She cried out when she saw him, ran to him, and embraced him fiercely.
“My lady,” Ned whispered in wonderment.
—A Game of Thrones - Eddard IV
Is very similar to this:
So we know that Ned and Catelyn fell in love right? But there’s something in the books that had always bothered me, Ned not once thought about how he loved her, like Catelyn thinks of his good heart and how much she had enough love for any woman and all but Ned never used the word Love when thinking of her. He thinks about how he loves Robert and Lyanna and the children but not his wife, that’s a bit odd. So do you think Ned loved Catelyn *less* than she loved him?
You need to reread, Ned does use the word “love” with and about Catelyn. And he uses other words as well.
“…let them grow up close as brothers, with only love between them,” he prayed, “and let my lady wife find it in her heart to forgive…" –ADWD, Bran III
“I ought to know better than to argue with a Tully,” he said with a rueful smile. He slid Ice back into its sheath. “You did not come here to tell me crib tales. I know how little you like this place. What is it, my lady?” –AGOT, Catelyn I
He looked at Catelyn. “What is it? My lady, you’re shaking.” –AGOT, Catelyn II
Ned crossed the room, took her by the arm, and pulled her to her feet. He held her there, his face inches from her. “My lady, tell me! What was this message?”–AGOT, Catelyn II
Ned kissed the tears from her eyes before they could fall. “Thank you, my lady,” he whispered. “This is hard, I know.” –AGOT, Catelyn II
Not for the first time, he wondered what he was doing here and why he had come. He was no Jon Arryn, to curb the wildness of his king and teach him wisdom. Robert would do what he pleased, as he always had, and nothing Ned could say or do would change that. He belonged in Winterfell. He belonged with Catelyn in her grief, and with Bran. –AGOT, Eddard II
Ned Stark dismounted in a fury. “A brothel,” he said as he seized Littlefinger by the shoulder and spun him around. “You’ve brought me all this way to take me to a brothel.”“Your wife is inside,” Littlefinger said.It was the final insult. “Brandon was too kind to you,” Ned said as he slammed the small man back against a wall and shoved his dagger up under the little pointed chin beard.
–AGOT, Eddard IV
Inside, Catelyn was waiting. She cried out when she saw him, ran to him, and embraced him fiercely.“My lady,” Ned whispered in wonderment.
–AGOT, Eddard IV
“I feared you’d never come, my lord,” she whispered against his chest. “Petyr has been bringing me reports. He told me of your troubles with Arya and the young prince. How are my girls?”“Both in mourning, and full of anger,” he told her. “Cat, I do not understand. What are you doing in King’s Landing? What’s happened?” Ned asked his wife. “Is it Bran? Is he…” Dead was the word that came to his lips, but he could not say it.“It is Bran, but not as you think,” Catelyn said.Ned was lost. “Then how? Why are you here, my love? What is this place?“
–AGOT, Eddard IV
He saw her hands then, the awkward way she held them, the raw red scars, the stiffness of the last two fingers on her left. “You’ve been hurt.” He took her hands in his own, turned them over. “Gods. Those are deep cuts… a gash from a sword or… how did this happen, my lady?”–AGOT, Eddard IV
“My lady,” he said, turning to Catelyn, “there is nothing more you can do here. I want you to return to Winterfell at once. If there was one assassin, there could be others. Whoever ordered Bran’s death will learn soon enough that the boy still lives.”“I had hoped to see the girls …” Catelyn said.“That would be most unwise,” Littlefinger put in. “The Red Keep is full of curious eyes, and children talk.”“He speaks truly, my love,” Ned told her. He embraced her. “Take Ser Rodrik and ride for Winterfell. I will watch over the girls. Go home to our sons and keep them safe.”“As you say, my lord.” Catelyn lifted her face, and Ned kissed her. Her maimed fingers clutched against his back with a desperate strength, as if to hold him safe forever in the shelter of her arms.
–AGOT, Eddard IV
He took her in his arms again. “The Lannisters are merciless in the face of weakness, as Aerys Targaryen learned to his sorrow, but they would not dare attack the north without all the power of the realm behind them, and that they shall not have. I must play out this fool’s masquerade as if nothing is amiss. Remember why I came here, my love.” –AGOT, Eddard IV
Robert had left him no choice that he could see. He ought to thank him. It would be good to return to Winterfell. He ought never have left. His sons were waiting there. Perhaps he and Catelyn would make a new son together when he returned, they were not so old yet. And of late he had often found himself dreaming of snow, of the deep quiet of the wolfswood at night. –AGOT, Eddard VIII
Some secrets are safer kept hidden. Some secrets are too dangerous to share, even with those you love and trust. –AGOT, Eddard VIII
“My lady wife is blameless, Your Grace. All she did she did at my command.”–AGOT, Eddard X
His regency would be a short one, he reflected as the wax softened. The new king would choose his own Hand. Ned would be free to go home. The thought of Winterfell brought a wan smile to his face. He wanted to hear Bran’s laughter once more, to go hawking with Robb, to watch Rickon at play. He wanted to drift off to a dreamless sleep in his own bed with his arms wrapped tight around his lady, Catelyn. –AGOT, Eddard XIII
When he kept very still, his leg did not hurt so much, so he did his best to lie unmoving. For how long he could not say. There was no sun and no moon. He could not see to mark the walls. Ned closed his eyes and opened them; it made no difference. He slept and woke and slept again. He did not know which was more painful, the waking or the sleeping. When he slept, he dreamed: dark disturbing dreams of blood and broken promises. When he woke, there was nothing to do but think, and his waking thoughts were worse than nightmares. The thought of Cat was as painful as a bed of nettles. He wondered where she was, what she was doing. He wondered whether he would ever see her again. –AGOT, Eddard XV
(augh, my heart…) Well… hope that helps!
For purposes of fanfiction, I counted every appearance of “Cat” as a nickname for Catelyn Tully Stark in A Song of Ice and Fire, as well as uses of “Catelyn” by people who also call her Cat. Here are my conclusions:
Edmure Tully never calls his sister anything but Cat, no matter who he’s talking to or how formal the context.
Catelyn herself names herself “Cat” only once in dialogue and twice in narration. Two of these instances (”It’s Catelyn. It’s Cat, Father.” and “Lord Hoster’s little Cat”) are directly in reference to her father. In the third instance, she calls herself Cat in the narration, after she’s been spending all her time with her father and has recently verbally identified herself as Cat to him. This might suggest that she used to think of herself as Cat, making it a habit she can easily slip back into. So, Riverrun-era Catelyn could feasibly be called Cat sometimes in her POV, but canon-era Catelyn definitely shouldn’t.
Hoster Tully, when (knowingly) speaking to his daughter, calls her “little Cat” exclusively. He also calls her “little Cat” when he thinks he’s talking to Minisa. When mentioning her to anyone else, he just says “Cat.”
The only other person to use “little Cat” is Brynden, when first greeting Catelyn in the Vale. Afterward (maybe influenced by her objection to being called “child”) he never says it again. He calls her Catelyn once when addressing her and three times to Jaime Lannister. Otherwise, the Blackfish is a Cat person.
Lysa, when speaking to her sister, calls her Cat. When talking to Sansa, she uses Cat three times and Catelyn seven. To everyone else, she just uses Catelyn.
Petyr Baelish is the first person in the books to call her Cat - and, before she accepts him as family again, she considers it “familiarity” she must ignore. Unlike Edmure, though, Petyr often refers to her as Catelyn to others. A breakdown: when he addresses her, or speaks of her to Lysa or Sansa she’s only Cat. To Ned, he calls her Cat four times and Catelyn or Lady Catelyn four times. In front of the Small Council, he uses Lady Catelyn once and Cat once. He uses “Catelyn” and “Lady Catelyn” once each to Tyrion.
Ned only calls his wife Cat to her face once, versus Catelyn four times. He uses the nickname in dialogue only one other time, to Varys. Every time he mentions her to anyone else (five times to Littlefinger, four to Robert, and once to Jaime) she’s Catelyn. In his narration he thinks of her as Catelyn twenty-six times and Cat only twice.
Nobody who isn’t on this list (unless we count Arya’s “could I be Cat?”) ever uses Cat in any capacity. It’s a family nickname only - and that family is House Tully, not Stark. Also, nobody ever calls her “Cat Tully” or “Cat Stark.” It’s more analogous to “Lya” for Lyanna than “Ned” for Eddard Stark.
So this is this and that is that, and that’s how you address a Cat.
Person on the phone: Am I speaking to the head of the household?
Ned, passing the phone to Catelyn: It’s for you.
Ned sits up in bed suddenly, nearly giving Cat a heart attack. She thought he’d been asleep, so when he turns to her, almost completely alert, the last thing she expects him to say is: “If we include Lyanna and Jon and Theon, we’d have enough for a parent-child softball team.” Cat clutches her book to her chest, heart still hammering. “That’s nice, Ned. Go to sleep,” she commands, hoping he’ll forget…whatever this is in the morning. Ned has wanted enough kids to fill a softball team since they were in college. He’d been devastated when Cat put her foot down after Rickon. He rolls over and is snoring in ten seconds flat. Catelyn sighs in relief. Maybe he’d forget. This could all be behind them in the morning.