✎ For Tondo ?

god i just lose my mind over sansa sometimes. she was just 11 — isolated in a strange place, neglected by her father and her septa, her precious direwolf unfairly executed, given confusing signals about who she is to marry, then after a failed coup her father lead, despite pleading for his life on her knees in front of  the entire court, was witness to his beheading. most 11 year olds are brats under the best of circumstances, let alone under those circumstances. but sansa rises above. she’s a kind little girl that survives constant terror and abuse through her cleverness, perceptiveness, and deep reserve of inner strength and compassion. though she may use another name, she knows deep down know she is, using that name – STARK – like a lodestone in her heart. where no one can see. for a lady’s armor is her courtesy

idk i love the way grmm has flipped the princess under captivity trope. sansa is not a passive subject, she spends her time in kings’ landing calculating risks (who is safe to trust, who is one of cersei’s/varys’/littlefinger’s spies), and creating alibis (constant prayers in the godswood). she muses that love is the best way to a people’s loyalty, and this thought persists despite the ‘wisdom’ of her teachers. when she becomes the lady of winterfell, it’s straight to work preparing for the winter – she’s learned from her unscrupulous mentors about the logistics, but the heart of that is that these are the smallfolk of the north, and they must be fed, they must be clothed, they must be armed for the coming struggle and she will see to it herself. though she has become wary and shrewd, constantly gaging men’s intentions, she has lost none of what made her such a precious character* – her heart. her kindness is now tempered by all that she’s suffered, she wears it like a cloak  – not the pain, but the victory. i’ve come this far, she must think. and i have far to go. 

*for people like me. i’m a big mushball crybaby and spend 90% of my time on this earth reading, i love to play music, and honestly if i lived in some quasi medieval world i would be all over those awesome dresses. not gonna lie)

Joly and Grantaire

It was a simple drive to out to town to get some food for dinner. Joly was working so Grantaire took Angelina with him. Everything happened to so fast after that.

Joly heard about a little girl with a broken from a car accident whose Father had thrown himself over the little girl. The young Doctor’s phone rang as a nurse made the call for to the dead man’s husbands. At this realization Joly ran to Angelina’s room, she was sleeping. As he moved closer Joly could see tear stains on her cheeks.

I.. wanted to draw Bahorel wearing that vest [x] and I don’t know what happened.

not that i’m actually on this blog much at all (yo my personal is just -socks instead of -arts), but i’m basically rochethos and scott lang/maggie lang/jim paxton blog now. is that a weird amalgam? yes. have i absolutely no shame? also yes.

Warmth.

((HAHAHA THIS TOOK FOREVER BECAUSE I AM A TERRIBLE PERSON))

It is the first snow day they have had in months, which means that instead of classes, Joly should be dragging Montparnasse out into the snow to make snow angels and violent snowmen à la Calvin and Hobbes. They should be having mock-fights with icicles. And then maybe singing along to “Baby It’s Cold Outside,” which should be a delightful prelude to Other Things.

Instead Joly is wrapped up in a ball of blankets, shivering violently and sneezing while ‘Parnasse fumbles with the kettle.

"Look, I dod’t eved care adybore. Just get over here, goddabbit."

Montparnasse shoots him a look. Joly glares back with red-rimmed eyes. “I’b cold. You’re warb. Ad you’re better thad a mug of hot cocoa adyway.”

"You’ll just give me your cold."

"Do I look like I care?"

A staring contest for about four seconds, broken by a rather loud sneeze from Joly. He sniffs pathetically and gives Montparnasse puppy eyes. “Please?”

Montparnasse huffs and goes over to Joly, wrapping his larger frame around the other. Joly snuggles up into him. “Thadk you. I would kiss you except I should dot.”

"If you give me your cold, I will kiss you with phlegm," ‘Parnasse says conversationally.

Joly shudders and buries his head in ‘Parnasse’s neck. “Please dod’t.”

After a while the shivers go away, and they fall asleep wrapped around each other.

Any gifsets of this yet? I would like to reblog 👀

Jon being called a “crow” was one of many nice callbacks in 8x2. And in the same episode as “who manipulated whom?” at that.

➥ kiefer sutherland as athos vs. michael wincott as rochefort - the three musketeers (1993) dir. stephen herek.

new icon

So I’m still going through most of this blog, archiving the old rp stuff offline and deleting the posts themselves. If anybody who I used to rp with here (when this blog was still called ask-the-hypochondriac) wants any of those screenshots, you are more than welcome to contact me and I’ll send copies of them to you.

But yeah, if anybody’s been paying attention to the change in url, this is now gonna be my fic and sketch blog. So I’m going to be rebageling drabbles and fics from my other rp blogs here, dumping original stuff here, posting sketches, that kind of thing. Probably mostly going to be centered on LOTR and the Silmarillion since that’s mostly the fandom I’m in right now.

Zero to Hero

((I am lauhging so hard

crack!AUing the hell out of this))

The day Joly fell in a vat of radioactive gunk, nobody was surprised that he scrambled out screaming about germs and cancer and everybody get away I am going to infect all of you my God this is Chernobyl all over again no I'm serious get away from me

But they were surprised that he turned into a superhero.

"The Jolly Green Giant!" they called him, and he had to bellow "IT's JOLY, IT'S FRENCH, PRONOUNCE IT RIGHT, AND YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO PUT MY NORMAL NAME NEXT TO MY SUPERHERO NAME ANYWAY" because that above all else irritated him.

Éponine was his Mary Jane, his Lois Lane, but far better able to take care of herself. She kept a pocket knife on her at all times, and could hit back. Joly was rather proud of her. He hardly ever had to rescue her; she could rescue herself. Sometimes he did, though, just because he could.