american countryside

On History and Pie

Summary:  A nonathletic!Jack fic, where grad student and history nerd, Jack Zimmermann meets the cute Samwell student/baker Eric Bittle at the Bread and Butter Bakery.  Will the two make a love connection?  For @devereauxsdisease and @victorineb who love this incarnation of Jack as much as I do.

Originally posted by butteryplanet

They’d chatted at the bakery enough times that Bitty was able to pull the information from Jack. He’d started coming to the bakery about four weeks ago, and during that time Bitty became more and more charmed with the second year grad student.

He always sat in the corner armchair, ordered a black coffee, two macarons and a slice of whatever the pie of the day was. Bitty first noticed him when he came in to order a slice of Weary Willie cake.

Bitty loved his job at the bakery, it gave him some extra cash while he attended Samwell. Whenever Bitty was there, he was the de facto person in charge. Shirley and Spencer, the owners of Bread and Butter adored Bitty.

“We never had any kids of our own, so you’re the closest thing to it, Bitty,” Shirley said to him one evening over a cup of earl grey tea.

So Bitty stood there, face to face with the bluest eyes he’d ever seen the first time Jack walked in. The Clark Kent glasses in front of them did nothing to hide the fact that they were beautiful. It was a good face, a handsome face. He was burly and tall, and Bitty loved that. He smiled, and Bitty’s body language invited Blue Eyes to speak.

“Can I get a slice of the Weary Willie cake?”

“Sure can, handsome,” Bitty said as he began to ring up Blue Eyes’ order, who blushed furiously. “What else can I do you for?”

“Coffee. Black. Medium, please,” he replied looking down at the counter.

“Why don’t you go find yourself a seat and I’ll bring it out to you,” Bitty said with a warm smile.

“Thank you,” Blue Eyes said softly and then turned to walk toward the corner armchair.

When Bitty approached, Blue Eyes had pulled out a laptop and several textbooks, the one on top of the pile was called Foundations of Modern European Intellectual History.

“Doing a little light reading, huh?” Bitty said as he put the cake and coffee on the side table.

“Oh, haha. Yes.”

“Do you go to Samwell?”

“I’m finishing up my masters in history there,” he said as he held up his book.

“That’s great. I haven’t seen you here before,” Bitty said wanting to know more about History Blue Eyes.

“I saw the chalkboard outside listing the Weary Willie cake and the history nerd in me became curious.”

“Look at you! You certainly are a history major.”

“Did you make the cake?” Jack asked raising his eyebrows.

“Sure did. My moomaw had the recipe from her mama.”

“Well, it’s not often I find a somewhat obscure historical reference on my way back to the history building.” 

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America. South Bend, Indiana. 

I feel super homesick for England & Ireland lately :(

it’s been almost a decade

Slowly Urbanized Countryside

This is where the American dream comes to die,

living a mostly quiet life on a winding dirt road

lined with beer cans and Styrofoam cups tossed

out into tall weeds by the young-folk and its

wayward children who will be lucky to live

as long as it has.

The hills tell a different story if you listen enough,

whose hushed beauty rivals that of the waving horizon

sobering blue and green blades and leaves painted delicately

over strong-boned trees whose arches bend sorrowfully over

forgotten highways next to streams bubbling over with smooth rocks

exuberant and juvenile in the day, washed over with the gilded light as it fades

inky black like the tar fathers shoveled and melted shoes over during the night

hissing and rumbling like an Oxygen Concentrator, cicadas mixed with motors

moonless in the summer, with only stars and satellites bearing witness

to the terrible and beautiful and horrendous and wondrous things

that happen in the woods and fields that are hidden from wandering eyes

events that leave no evidence other than the twenty-two bullet holes

in the body of a bloody red stop-sign outside of your grandmother’s corner store

and a slew of rotting buildings that used to be inhabited and loved by hands that built them.

This is the place the American dream comes to die,

because it knows that no one will ever bother it here.

People Of 1939 View The World of Tomorrow - Photo: Corbis (via WIRED)

General Motors’ Futurama exhibit let visitors view the world of tomorrow from comfortable, moving chairs while touring a vast scale model of the American countryside. Covering more than 35,000 square feet, Futurama was the largest scale model ever constructed, including more than 500,000 buildings, 1 million trees and 50,000 motor vehicles — many in motion.

In Poppyland
John Ottis Adams (American; 1851–1927)
Oil on canvas
David Owsley Museum of Art, Muncie, Indiana


TRUMP COUNTY USA: Where Rural Americans now have the power to pick our presidents. They just chose a politician who’s unwilling and unequipped to help them.

By Henry Grabar

In short, the metropolis has economic power but little political power. The American countryside has limited economic power but vast political power. It’s always been true, but this year’s electoral map shows the gap is wider than ever. There are many explanations for what happened on Election Day, but the simplest one is this: We now have a rural party and an urban party.

The rural party won. And it won on a Trump-ish promise—stop immigration, close the door on refugees—that threatens metropolitan success and undermines rural America’s best hope for an economic renaissance.

(continue reading)

reasons why “The King Is Dead” by The Decemberists is one of the most Raven Cycle album ever*

  • the title.
  • it was the first American folk-influenced/sounding album of the band after three albums that were more British folk revival ish.
  • Honestly it just sounds very folk countryside American? and what I pictured reading the books.
  • Don’t Carry It All is a Gansey song:
    • Buried wreath of trillium and ivy
      Laid upon the body of the boy
      Lazy will the long come from it’s hiding
      Return his quiet certitude to the soil
      So raise a glass to turnings of the season
      And watch it as it arcs towards the sun
      And you must bear your neighbor’s burden within reason
      And your labors will be borne when all is done

  • Rise To Me is just. such an Adam song:
    • Hey Henry, can you hear me,
      let me see those eyes
      this distance, between us
      can seem a mountain size
      but boy, you are gonna stand your ground
      they rise to you you’ll blow them down
      let me see you stand your ground
      they rise to you you’ll blow them down

  • All Arise! is the Ronan song:
    • You spit thick and you cross your heart
      But the culvert’s all run dry
      From keeping shotgun shy all arise
      Just be mine tonight
      So the dollar shot shot broke the law and they knocked you down
      Better call the coppers if you need someone to push you around
      But you keep on stealin’
      You keep on stealin’
      Yes, you keep on stealin’
      Well, there’s nothing left to steal
  • June Hymn is Blue’s song; also, just Henrietta and its magic in general:
    • Here’s a hymn to welcome in the day
      Heralding a summer’s early sway
      And all the bulbs all coming in,
      To begin
      The thrushes bleating battle with the wrens
      Disrupts my reverie again
      Pegging clothing on the line
      Training jasmine how to vine
      Up the arbor to your door,
      And more
      You’re standing on the landing with the war
      You shouldered all the night before

  • … and January Hymn is Noah’s.
    • Hail the winter days after dark
      Wandering the gray memorial park
      A fleeting beating of hearts
      What were the words I meant to say before she left?
      When I could see her breath lead where she was going to
      Maybe I should just let it be
      And maybe it will all come back to me

  • The rest of the songs can definitely fit minor characters or just the gang in general, too (especially Dear Avery, could fit any of the main characters, and Why We Fight)
  • it’s just a great album

* that I’ve known and listened to numerous time. It might be because of how important this album is to me, though, and I love linking things I like together.