felt like posting today


Been playing around with my style lately and I finished these probably gay doods much quicker than usual, which is good since it usually takes me a week to finish, but there’s not as much texture since i didn’t blend literally everything :/ OH WELL I’LL FIGURE IT OUT BUT YEAH HAPPY PRIDE!! <3333

arya + trees

And how she smiled and how she laughed, the maiden of the tree. (ASOS)

arya’s has a strong nature motif in her storyline because of her wild temperament. she spends most of her time in the great outdoors too. which is usually less fun than it sounds but she perseveres. arya likes the feel of the earth beneath her feet. she’s a wolf girl and the forest is her place. she’s also connected to dozens of animals, the moon, water, and trees.

“I look like an oak tree, with all these stupid acorns.”
“Nice, though. A nice oak tree.” (ASOS)

she has a significantly cute scene where she’s dressed up in a dress embroidered with acorns and gendry says she looks like “a nice oak tree”. acorns are nuts and within them are the seeds mighty oak tree grow from. they’re a symbol of potential; that even something so small could grow into something so powerful. which i think is a pretty good representation of arya’s character. since gendry is the one who gives arya the compliment it could be interpreted that their relationship is an acorn too for the same reasons. its started off as a young friendship but it could grow into something so much more. 

The next day they rode to a place called High Heart, a hill so lofty that from atop it Arya felt as though she could see half the world. Around its brow stood a ring of huge pale stumps, all that remained of a circle of once-mighty weirwoods. Arya and Gendry walked around the hill to count them. (ASOS) 

it was believed oaks could withstand any storm. because of this they represent strength, stability and life. the oak was scared to the celtic druids who seem to be one of the inspirations for the northern religion. the people of the north are seen as “tree worshiping savages” because they pray before weirwoods. trees of white bark with red leaves and faces. arya is among the tree worshipers. she follows the old gods and they play a surprisingly active role in her story. 

Through the leafy canopy she could see the bone-white branches of the heart tree. It looks just like the one in Winterfell from here. If only it had been … then when she climbed down she would have been home again, and maybe find her father sitting under the weirwood where he always sat. (ACOK)

arya also visits high heart, a scared place to the children of the forest, where a grove of weirwoods once stood. she climbs trees often and is referred to as a squirrel. we see her pray to the old gods in the godswood of harrenhal where there is a heart tree. arya kneels before the weirwood and asks the gods for guidance….and by some miracle they respond. in twow the trees are still watching her in her dreams even while arya is far away in a city where no trees grow. they are calling her true name. 

In the godswood she found her broomstick sword where she had left it, and carried it to the heart tree. There she knelt. Red leaves rustled. Red eyes peered inside her. The eyes of the gods. “Tell me what to do, you gods,” she prayed. 

For a long moment there was no sound but the wind and the water and the creak of leaf and limb. And then, far far off, beyond the godswood and the haunted towers and the immense stone walls of Harrenhal, from somewhere out in the world, came the long lonely howl of a wolf. Gooseprickles rose on Arya’s skin, and for an instant she felt dizzy. Then, so faintly, it seemed as if she heard her father’s voice. “When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives,” he said.

“But there is no pack,” she whispered to the weirwood. Bran and Rickon were dead, the Lannisters had Sansa, Jon had gone to the Wall. “I’m not even me now, I’m Nan.”

“You are Arya of Winterfell, daughter of the north. You told me you could be strong. You have the wolf blood in you." (ACOK)

when arya asked the heart tree, the old gods, what to do and where to go they made their judgement clear: arya belongs in the north with her pack.  arya has spent most of this series adrift, like a seed blowing in the wind, but her strong association with trees suggests to me that she’ll eventually put down roots.


The Time to Sleep 🍂

We found a place to which we drive
And I offer you the time
To sleep - to dream
To wake up when we arrive…”

Poses: @simtrovart, thank you 💕


Crushes can get frustrating, sometimes


Some favourite artistic representations of fifteenth century dresses. Bit of a mixed bag, though mostly Burgundian/French influenced, but with a bit of Italian in the second last. Yes I know portraits aren’t always faithful resources but this is just so I can fangirl.

(Ladies- Isabel of Portugal, Duchess of Burgundy; Anne of Burgundy, Duchess of Bedford; Margaret of Burgundy, Dauphine of France; Arolfini’s wife from the Arnolfini portrait by Jan van Eyck; Margaret of Denmark, Queen of Scots; Margaret of York, Duchess of Burgundy; lady from the Visitation by Ghirlandaio, often identified as Giovanna degli Albizzi; and from the end of the century Anne de Beaujeu, or Anne of France, daughter of Louis XI)

Just a little something for those who may need this. Please remember that you are not alone and that there is always someone who cares about you. I care about every single one of you so feel free to message me if it all becomes a little too much! Let’s support each other and be in this together ❤

tumblr has affected me in such baffling ways like i just hit a straight up porn photoset that showed the model first in lingerie and then stripping down to being nude and showing her breasts adn butt and it wasnt until the last pic where she had spread her buttcheeks to show her bootyhole and pusspuss in clear view of the camera goat.se style that i was like “oh, this isnt a body positivity post” then the caption was like “i felt cute today” girl i bet you did to be putting your asshole in my face out of nowhere like that

  • me: *in bed, minding my own business, starting to fall asleep*
  • my brain: hey
  • my brain: here's a vivid mental image of a murderer breaking into your house and busting into your bedroom, and, upon you screaming to your parents for help, stabbing you in the throat – your vision goes black and you lose your senses as the nothingness of death finally comes for you
  • me: what the fuck
  • my brain: ;)