if you’re ever sad just remember that there is a video where dan signs up for a dating site under the name sexybreadtin and know that there is still a legitimate profile by that exact name who lists an interest as philology
well, it seems as if i did get too antsy after that anon asked and so, here is my first follow forever! i love and appreciate every one of these blogs and the people behind them, honestly. please let me know if you feel as if you should be included in this list or if i have forgotten you! i did get a bit scatter-brained halfway through. bolded users are mutuals! you guys are awesome! off we go!
okay so i’m going to try to open commissions altho i’m still a little nervous but !!
if you want to contact me or have any questions feel free to send me a message here/on my deviantart but messages sometimes get eaten so the best way would probably be through my email account email@example.com if you want to contact me! that email is also my paypal email !
also keep in mind i just started classes so the weekends are when i have the most time to draw so it may take a week or two to get it done, if you have a deadline be sure to tell me right away !
i can draw:
men tho i only have girls showing for examples
animals/pokemon/the like, tho they will be $10 cell shaded
i cannot draw:
basically any pornographic art
if you have any questions just shoot me an ask or email me !
So tempting to write a short fic where Natasha tries to get a very reluctant Bucky to dance. Steve told her how much Bucky loved to dance before the war but he’s stubborn and claims he can’t remember if that’s true or not - Natasha is determined to jog his memory.
I thought it’d be interesting to do an analysis on Sansa’s progression from girl to woman, not just in the physical sense, but also in her growing understanding of the world around her - awakening from her dream-like naivete, fanciful wishes, and expectations.
I’ll also be doing a bit of, “reading between the lines”, and showing some evidence of Sansa’s growing, dubious(?), romantic feelings towards her protector, Petyr Baelish.
In AFFC, Sansa’s very first chapter begins with Sansa reminiscing about the days when she was a young girl in Winterfell. An old singer had visited them, and he sang and played the wonderful songs and tales that Sansa loved. She had cried when the singer took leave, noting how silent the castle had become again.
Older now, she reflects:
But that was when she was a little girl, and foolish. She was a maiden now, three-and-ten and flowered. All her nights were full of song, and by day she prayed for silence.
Sansa is a woman now, filled with new-found, uncertain, desirous need. At night, she is kept up with an increasingly self-aware pining (songs), and by day, she wishes for them to be silent.
Being an innocent, righteously brought up, high-born girl, she probably can’t pin what this strange, sweet, yearning is.
Over the course of the chapter, Sansa’s introspection turns towards Petyr, and how he had saved her on numerous occasions.
From Marillion’s unwanted advances:
He would have taken me by force on the Fingers if Petyr had not set Ser Lothor to watch over me…
To Lysa’s attack:
If not for Petyr Baelish it would have been Sansa who went spinning through a cold blue sky to stony death six hundred feet below, instead of Lysa Arryn. He is so bold. Sansa wished she had his courage.
As well as her earlier escape from King’s Landing:
Except to get me out. He did that for me. I thought it was Ser Dontos, my poor old drunken Florian, but it was Petyr all the while.
Sansa fully realizes Petyr’s concentrated efforts for her, and though they are not the heroic grandstanding of the stories, she reflects on his actions kindly, and often.
After Lysa’s death, and the impending questions and interrogations soon to follow, Petyr soothes Sansa through her worry, comforting her:
“Do you imagine I’d ever let him harm my daughter?”
Sansa viscerally thinks:
I am not your daughter…I am Sansa Stark, Lord Eddard’s daughter and Lady Catelyn’s, the blood of Winterfell.
Analyzing this introspective reaction, it’s sensible to say that Sansa is simply unhappy about being someone whom she isn’t. She is not Petyr’s daughter. She is Sansa Stark of Winterfell.
In the passages that follow, Petyr assures Sansa, “Some lies are love.”
Sansa reflects on this:
He is serving me lies as well, Sansa realized. They were comforting lies, though, and she thought them kindly meant. A lie is not so bad if it is kindly meant. If only she believed them…
All I did was build a snow castle, and she meant to push me out the Moon Door. Petyr saved me. He loved my mother well, and…
And her? How could she doubt it? He had saved her. He saved Alayne, his daughter, a voice within her whispered. But she was Sansa too…
Fascinating. Notice how she doesn’t mention Petyr’s kiss, AT ALL, factoring into Lysa’s decision to kill her? She’s audited her feelings about that kiss, removing it entirely. Now she finds herself weaving a near, romantic tale of rescue - and wondering whether it was possible that Petyr loved her, as he loved her mother.
She isn’t sure.
She’s struggling with her doubts, thinking that Petyr was only saving his “daughter”, but she’s seemingly wanting him to be saving her - Sansa.
Later on in the chapter, Petyr compliments Sansa on her correct insight regarding one of his men, and the contradictory disguise the man had played. All a part of the “game” that Petyr is a master player of:
“It was clever of you to see it. Though no more than I’d expect of mine own daughter.”
Sansa seems to stiffen at the response, and seeks his reassurance that she wants to be Sansa to him:
I’m not, though. Your daughter. Not truly. I mean, I pretend to be Alayne, but you know…
Petyr re-assures her, and tells her that he knows her as Sansa, however, even when they’re together - they need to play their part as father and daughter:
He put two fingers on her left breast. “Even here. In your heart. Can you do that? Can you be my daughter in your heart?”
Sansa is unsure what to say at first. Her thoughts spinning:
“I…” I do not know, my lord, she almost said, but that was not what he wanted to hear.
She hesitates. In the depths of her heart, she can’t be his daughter.
Because she does not want to love him as a daughter, she wants to love him as a woman: as Sansa.
However, she steels herself, and commits:
I am Alayne, Father. Who else would I be?
This is when Petyr knows that she is ready to join him in The Game.
Will they win? How will history speak of their tale?