So I stood up on the car seat, and not just stuck out my head but squeezed half my body through the sunroof, then shouted, “Hey, I’m in that! I’m the princess!”
This certainly caused some interest, ranging from the scornful “What an asshole” variety to the “Do you think it’s really her?”
“I’m in that!” I repeated for those who hadn’t heard me the first time. Then, suddenly realizing what I had done and quickly fearing that some of these moviegoers might identify me, I slid back down into my seat and said to my friend, “Quick! Drive!” So she stepped on the gas and sped away.
Dean slurs the question out as Cas helps him back to his bedroom at approximately three in the morning, arm slung over his shoulder like a soldier wounded in combat.
Cas had come home about thirty minutes prior to discover him half-conscious at the kitchen table, empty liquor bottles surrounding him like garnish. Apparently, their latest hunt had not gone well: they killed the pagan god they were after, but not before five virgins were killed.
Dean hadn’t taken it well.
“I mean it, Cas,” he repeats, when Cas ignores it the first time. “Why do you keep comin’ back.”
“Shush, Dean,” says Cas, gently but firmly. “You’re drunk.”
“I’ve never been no good for you, Cas,” Dean slurs, sounding emotional. “Never…never no good.”
“That isn’t true. And you just used a double negative.”
“Naw, no, no, you’re bein’…you’re bein’ too nice to me,” Dean insists, holding up an unsteady index finger. “I…I hurt you, Cas, I know I did. I made you leave the bunker when you were all…all human and squishy. Anything could’ve happened to you out there, but did I care?” He shakes his head adopting an exaggerated scowl. “Naaaaawww. Big man Dean Winchester, he doesn’t care what happens to his buddies. They lose they’re angel powers, an’ BAM! He kicks ‘em to the curb.”
Cas swallows, not liking to dwell on the subject. “You’re referring to yourself in the third person,” he states, attempting to divert the subject. “That is also grammatically -”
“And when I was all high on the Mark of Cain, an’ I nearly killed you? I never even tried to apologize for that, not…not proper anyway.” He examines him out of the corner of his pinkened eye, red rims Christmas-y in conjecture with the green. “You…you wanna know why, Cas?”
“Dean, you’re highly inebriated. I’d advise you not to say anything you’ll later -”
“’Cause how do I ever,” he says anyway, free arm waving emphatically. “Make up for somethin’ like that? Huh? Do I just say, ‘sorry, buddy, I nearly…killed ya in cold blood in your own home,’ an’ just leave it at that? What am I s’posed to do, Cas? Huh? What am I s’pose to do, besides pretend it never happened?”
“You’re doing just fine, Dean,” Cas offers, which sounds bizarre in context, but he doesn’t know what else to say.
“Oh! And when you were crazy,” Dean continues, barking out a drunk, humorless cackle. “Let me tell ya, Cas, the way I treated you? I spent every last day I was in Purgatory regrettin’ that…wishin’…wishin’ I coulda done different. ‘Specially if I wasn’t never gonna see you again.” He pauses, drilling idly at his ear with his pinky finger. “But then I found you, and what was I s’pose to do then, Cas? Huh? What was I s’pose to say?”
“’Oh, heya, Cas. Just wanna tell ya, I take back what I said about not carin’ that you’re broken an all.’”
“’Yeah, I’m awful sorry you’re broken, Cas. I’m sorry I broke ya, when you first touched me in Hell, an’ I had to take it out on you because I just couldn’t come to terms with it. That I had to make myself hate you just to come to terms with the fact that the one good…one beautiful thing that happened to me, was broken because -”
“Dean! That is enough,” Cas snaps, willing himself not to hear anymore. “We’re almost at your bedroom. Until then, I’d thank you to remain quiet.”
“Okay, okay. Sheesh,” Dean huffs. “Mister Bossy Pants allova sudden…”
Soon, they round the corner to Dean’s bedroom. With the help of his grace, the door swings open and they lope over to Dean’s bed, where Cas lets him flop back on the memory foam.
He kneels down beside the bed in an serendipitous recreation of the prayer position, stooping to undo the laces of Dean’s combat boots.
“Y’know after the apocalypse,” Dean’s voice slurs out above him. “You…you stayed.” He props himself on his elbows, watching as the skilled, slender fingers undo his shoelaces. “Why’d you do that, Cas? Why’d you stay for me, after all your buddies went home?”
Cas’s brow rumples. “What are you talking about, Dean? There never was an apocalypse.”
“Not for reals, maybe,” Dean concedes. “But in the alternate timeline Mister Dick-With-Wings Zach sent to me, there sure’s hell was. And you…you were still there, Cas: doped up on prescription pills and down a pair of wings, but you were still there.” Dean’s voice is different now, almost quietly perplexed, as though he just can’t figure out why anyone would endure that for his benefit.
Cas says nothing, the delicate fan of his eyelashes prominent over his cheekbones as he occupies himself with pealing off Dean’s second combat boot.
“You…you died for me, Cas,” Dean says incredulously, as if realizing it for the first time. “You died, you died willingly, for me.” He pauses, staring off, comprehensively, into space. “And not just then, but…but so many other times, too. Why’d you do that for me, Cas? Why’d you keep comin’ back to a guy who’d ‘cause you all that much trouble?”
Cas sighs, getting to his feet with a soft oof.
“Dean,” he says quietly, looking down at the drunken figure with soft, sad eyes. “I think, deep in your heart, you already know why.”
Dean stares at him, then he swallows wetly, head shaking lightly from side to side. “No. No, I gotta hear you say it.”
“Dean -” Cas starts to protest, but he’s cut off by the feeling of Dean’s warm, calloused palm grasping his own. It’s a desperate gesture, almost a plea in and of itself.
“Please, Cas,” he whispers. “Just this once, I gotta hear it. I need to hear you say the words.”
Cas looks down at him, at the damp, desperate green eyes looking up at him, silently begging for an answer. Cas wets his lips.
“It’s because I love you,” he whispers.
Dean swallows, blinking wetly. “Say it again.”
Cas’s eyes flutter shut, thumb stroking almost subconsciously over Dean’s. This wasn’t how he wanted his first ‘I love you’ to go, but then, when did the universe ever behave according to plan?
“I love you, Dean.”
It’s still barely audible, but it’s evidently all Dean needs. Next thing Cas knows, he’s being tugged down into an open-mouthed kiss, Dean’s warm, wet lips still somewhat bitter with the residual taste of whisky.
Cas’s first instinct is to melt into the sensation, to cherish Dean’s pliable, human warmth forever and ever, right here and now, but he forces himself to pull away.
“No,” he says firmly, pushing Dean back onto the bed. “No, Dean, you’re drunk. It isn’t right.”
“Please,” Dean whines, still attempting to follow the sensation. “Please, Cas, I…I want this, I swear I do, I’ve waited so long -”
“So have I. But I will wait until you’re sober and able to give me proper consent.”
“Damn it, Cas, m’not a vessel.” Dean sounds frustrated. “And I’m not some sort of chick, either, so you don’t need to -”
“I always need consent,” Cas almost snaps at him. “You are the person I love, Dean, and I’ll respect your boundaries even if you do not.”
Dean looks as though he’s about to say something else, then thinks better of it, mouth flopping slightly open and then closed again. He looks almost abashedly off to the side.
Cas can see he’s feeling uncertain, somewhat embarrassed about propositioning Cas so aggressively. He squeezes his hand reassuringly.
“Go to sleep, Dean,” he says gently. “I’ll still be here when you wake up.”
Dean looks at him hopefully. “You will?”
“Of course,” he assures him. It’s only when he strokes his thumb over Dean’s that he realizes they’re still holding hands. “I always watch over you, Dean.”
Dean’s adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, appearing to think it over. “Will you…will you lay in bed with me?” Cas eyes him dubiously, and Dean’s eyelids flutter. “Please, I just wanna hold you…just wanna feel you. I won’t try anything, I promise.”
Cas considers it, but finds himself cracking under the pleading emerald gaze. He crawls into bed, trench coat and all, allowing his head to rest atop Dean’s rib cage. He finds it comforting, the rhythmic thud of his heartbeat, the steady heave of his lungs.
It only occurs to him that this is happening, really happening, as he feels Dean’s warm, strong arms envelope him, and he realizes that he actually said it: after all this time, he told Dean he loves him.
Of course, he’s said it before, in what he thought would be his last moments after being impaled by the venomous spear, but this time is different: Sam and Mary aren’t here, and there’s no room for ambiguity as to who he’s talking to. He’s told Dean he loves him.
Up till now, he’s been too preoccupied with managing Dean’s drunkeness to realize the full magnitude of what’s just transpired. Now he’s beginning to, and it’s frankly overwhelming.
“You’ll be here when I wake up, right?” Dean inquires, jogging him from his introspective stupor.
“Yes, Dean. Go to sleep,” he murmurs, adding, “I love you,” just to confirm to himself that he actually said it. Finally said it.
“I love you too, Cas. G’night.”
Cas swallows, attempting to pretend his entire sense of reality hasn’t been completely upended. They’ll have a lot to talk about in the morning.
A/N: After the overwhelming amount of requests, here you have it y’all! I hope you guys like this, it’s very explicit and detailed much like part one. Also, thank you to @stilinski-jpeg for proofreading this.
Two weeks. It’s been two weeks since the hotel room incident and Dylan hasn’t done a single thing about it. My phone has never received another text from him nor did he ever talk about it with me again. The topic was completely avoided when we were together, but I certainly didn’t miss the other signs he was giving me. What with the knowing glances, the winks, the smirks, the lingering touches on my arm that aren’t necessary, the way he stares at my lips whenever I talk to him as he licks his own. I knew exactly what he was doing…
Dylan was fucking teasing me. And the worst part? It’s actually working.
Can you do a Jimmy Darling smutty imagine where Jimmy is sad about his hands being different and Y/N comforts him and seduces him and they have rough sex? Dom!Y/N and sub!Jimmy?? Thank you so much -anon; Jimmy Darling smut please with some fluff ;) maybe he is insecure and the reader shows him how much she loves him :) -anon; A fluffy smut Jimmy Darling imagine please :) -anon
Warnings: well it’s smut lmao so idk ???
Summary: Lately, your best friend Jimmy seems sad all the time, and when you find out the reason why, you try to cheer him up and you accidentally let him know how you really feel about him, and prove it to him when he doesn’t believe you.
Notes: GUYS IM HAVING SO MANY JIMMY FEELS RN SO EXPECT A HELLA LOT OF JIMMY IMAGINES SOON AKA TODAY // SEND IN REQUESTS OR PROMPTS (fluff or smut)!
p.s. i got a little carried away with this one
You and Jimmy had been best friends for as long as you could remember. His mother and your mother had been friends since before you were born, and when your parents got divorced and you and your mother fell on hard times, Ethel was there to help. “I knew that good for nothin’ fool wasn’t worth it,” Ethel had told your mom. She practically begged the two of you to come live at the Freakshow with them, and insisted that Elsa wouldn’t mind. So, you and your mother ended up getting your own caravan right next to Ethel and Jimmy’s, and since neither of you really qualified as “freaks,” you spent your time helping with things like the cooking, and setting up the show every night. So, over the past 10 or so years, you and Jimmy had beome very close, and you couldn’t imagine it any other way.
Lately, you had been so worried about him. He’d seemed really down in the dumps, and you couldn’t figure out why. After a few days of noticing that he wasn’t eating much and barely talking to you, you decided to try and cheer him up, and maybe find out what was bothering him. So you pulled out your mother’s favorite cookbook and began making some of his favorite foods: spaghetti and chocolate cake. You figured you’d invite him and his mother over for dinner like old times, and then when you got some time alone with him, maybe try and ask him what was wrong lately.
Before beginning to cook, you told your mother what you were planning, and asked her if she would ask the Darlings to come over around 6. So you pulled down a large pot and began cooking, seeing as it was already 5.
At 6:04, there was a hard knock at the door, and then Jimmy peeked his head around the corner. “Hey darlin’,” he grinned, before shutting the door behind him. He had a habit of calling you pet names like darlin’ or sweetheart, and you couldn’t say you minded. Far from it actually– you couldn’t remember a time when your stomch didn’t instantly turn into a swarm of butterflies when he called you something like that.
“Our mommas might be a while, they got caught up with Eve on the walk over.” he giggled a little, his dimples popping out.
“That’s alright, we can just hang out till they get here,” you smiled back, walking over to him. “I’ve missed you, Jimmy. We don’t spend as much time togther as we used to.”
He looked down at the floor, and although you could see a blush creeping onto his cheeks, you heard him mumble something along the lines of “Yeah, sure you have.”
You looked up at him, frowning, “What’s that supposed to mean? Of course I missed you, you’re my best friend.”
“Look, I’m sorry Y/N. It’s just that…I find it hard to believe that someone like you would actually care that much about a freak like me. You’re beautiful, and normal, and I’m not. I just can’t help feeling like you’ve only stuck around because my Ma’s friends with yours.”
Suddenly it hit you. “Oh, Jimmy,” you cooed, sitting down on the couch in front of him and holding his hands in your smaller ones, “That’s why you’ve been so distant lately? You think I don’t really care about you?”
He avoided your gaze and kept quiet. “Jimmy, I… I love you.”
“What?” He asked, his eyes suddenly flicking up from the ground and meeting yours. “What’d you say?”
You could feel your cheeks heating up rapidly, but now that it was out, you figured you had nothing else to lose, so you kept going. “I said I love you.” you repeated. “I’ve loved you since the first time I laid eyes on you, when we were 8 years old and I saw you eat a worm on a dare,” you smiled, and Jimmy let out a chuckle, remembering the first time you met. “I love you more than anything else Jimmy Darling, and I don’t plan on stopping anytime soon. And I’m sorry if I mess up our entire friendship by saying all this, but it’s too late to stop now. I don’t just care about you, I love you. And I never want to hear you say otherwise ever again, aright?”
Jimmy stood frozen in front of you, his eyes wide and his mouth sightly agape. He wasn’t speaking but he hadn’t removed his hands from their spot between your palms, so you supposed that was a good sign. “Please say something before I throw up from embaressment.”
“I love you, God I love you Y/N.” He gushed, kneeling down in front of you, “I just never said anything beause I thought you wouldn’t feel the same.”
“That’s why I didn’t tell you sooner.” You admitted.
“W-would it be okay if I kissed you?” He asked, glancing own at your still interlocked hands. You nodded vigorously, before leaning into him and pressing your lips to his, and you swear you saw fireworks. And even though it was the first kiss you’d ever had with him, he kissed you like it would be the last.
“I love you so much,” you mumbled into his neck, “so God damn much, don’t ever forget that.” You rested your hand on his thigh, not even meant to be in a sexual way, but you head Jimmy’s breath catch in his throat, and he swallowed roughly. “Oh, you like that?” you teased, smiling as you rubbed your hand up his thigh a bit higher, until your fingers were only inches away from his crotch.
“Mhm… you can keep going, i-if you want,” he mumbled, biting his lip, before leaning down to kiss you again.
“Wait,” you pulled away slowly, panting, “if we’re gonna do this, we should probably go to your caravan, we don’t need our mothers walking in on me blowing you, now do we?”
Jimmy laughed, his dimples showing off again, “Oh, so you’ll be blowing me?”
You rolled your eyes, but could feel a flush creeping over your cheeks as the realization of what you had said hit you. “Shut up, just hand me that notepad and a pen so they don’t worry about where we went whenever they actually get here.”
He smirked, but did as you requested, so you scribbled out a note.
You then stuck it on the cabinet above the pot of spaghetti, and quickly followed Jimmy outside and next door to his caravan, which was next to his mother’s. Once he shut and locked the door behind you, you immediately pressed his back against the wall, threw your arms around his neck and crashed your mouth to his. Your fronts were pressed together tightly, and you could feel Jimmy getting hard as you continued kissing him. You reached down and popped the button of his pants open. “Is it okay if I…?” you trailed off, knowing that he’d know what you meant.
“Please,” Jimmy practically whimpered, and you pressed your lips to his again. Without breaking the kiss, you pushed his pants and boxers down, and began pumping him with your hand. Jimmy let out a groan into your mouth, and you pulled away from him, to kneel down and take his dick in you mouth. You placed your left hand on his hip, and your right hand on the base of his cock. “Ohhh, fuck Y/N, don’t stop.”
But soon after, you did stop, just before Jimmy came. You stood up and started unbuttoning his shirt. Jimmy then kicked off his pants, as you leaned in, and whispered, “Go wait on the bed, baby.”
Jimmy smirked and planted a few kisses on your neck, and then did as you told him and laid back on the bed. You undressed yourself in front of him, and looked directly at him as you unclipped your bra and pulled down your panties. It was taking everything in Jimmy to not reach down and jerk himself off to the sight of you, but he knew that what was to come would be even better.
As soon as you were completely naked, you climbed onto the bed and sat straddled Jimmy’s lap. You grabbed his dick and rubbed the tip over your soaking wet slit, recieving a low, gutteral groan from the back of his throat. “Baby stop teasing.”
You slowly slid onto Jimmy’s length, and he threw his head back and sighed with relief. His hands gripped your thighs and you began building up a rhythm, as you leaned forward an gripped Jimmy’s shoulder’s. He sat up and took one of your nipples in his mouth, while he raked his hands down your back.
You let out a loud moan, and reached down to rub your clit. “You gonna cum soon baby?” you asked breathlessly. But before Jimmy could answer, you leaned down and started leaving hickeys and wet kisses all over his neck and collarbones.
A couple seconds later, Jimmy’s panting got louder, and a few quiet moanes escaped his lips, and you felt him cum inside of you. You continued moving on him until you felt your own orgasm taking over, and you practically screamed with pleasure. Once you had caught your breath, you pulled yourself off of Jimmy’s dick, and stood up.
“How are you up this fast? I’m exhausted and I didn’t even do any of the work,” Jimmy laughed, as he watched you get dressed with his hands behind his head.
You chuckled. “I am too, but we gotta go. Dinner, remember?”
Jimmy groaned, but stood up and began getting dressed as well. You stood in front of the small mirror by his bed as you ran your fingers through your hair, trying to smooth it out. Once Jimmy was fully dressed again, he hugged you from behind and rested his head on your shouler, peppering kisses on your cheek. “You ready, doll? You look gorgeous.”
You smiled and turned your head to peck his lips. “Mhm.”
The two of you walked towards you & your mother’s caravan, with Jimmy’s arm draped around your shoulders. When you pulled the door open, you saw your mom and Ethel seated at the small table, talking and laughing,
“Hey ma,” Jimmy grinned.
“Hey you two,” Ethel replied, returning Jimmy’s smile.
“Did you have fun on your walk?” your mom asked, taking a sip from the mug she was holding.
Hello to all, once again. Of course, I’ve decided to do another small, well, LARGE meta on why I personally think Jonsa is endgame. Now, these are my points, and my views, if you don’t agree, you’re free to do so. On we go now.
Now, since season 6, I’ve started shipping Jon and Sansa. Believe me, before season 6, I never thought they would even meet each other. But, I was surprised, and was also very surprised by the chemistry they had with each other. From the get go, from the scene where they discuss home and from there, I was very…suspicious of their interactions with each other. Now, personally, I have no brothers. I do have sisters though. I would never act with them the way Sansa and Jon act with each other. The stares, the heavy breathing after arguing, the protection speech.
Point 1: They look like Ned and Cat reborn. Even book wise, Jon is said to look the MOST like Ned, even Cat says so. Sansa herself is compared to Catelyn numerous times. By Petyr, by Lysa, etc. Now even though Sansa is compared to Cat, she doesn’t treat Jon the same way Catelyn did. After meeting him again, she becomes very close with Jon. She learned from her mistakes. Anyway…
At the wall, after his death, when Jon came back, he started to wear his hair in a man-bun, and it matched Ned’s perfectly, almost eerily. Sansa also started to wear her hair in ‘northern’ braids. Much like her mother did. Even in season 7 now, she wears her hair a lot like her mothers, with a touch of Cersei in it.
Jon/Ned- Honorable, broody, tries to do the right thing all the time, protective, etc.
Sansa/Cat: Red hair, has the ‘tully’ look about her. Sansa also has the gift of observation, a lot like Cat did. Etc.
Now, this relationship. Cat and Ned’s. They were not married for love, they were married because Catelyn was engaged to Ned’s brother, Brandon. He however, met his end in Kings Landing when the mad king Aerys invited him and his father, for a peace summoning. He was burned alive. To join the two houses, Catelyn and Ned then married. Over the years, Catelyn said their marriage was built up, ‘stone by stone.’ They also had the most loving, healthy relationships on the show.
In Season 7 Jon and Sansa have had so many parallels to Ned and Cat. Their looks, and now their actions.
Point 2: Their chemistry!!
Like I said in the introduction to this meta, their scenes in season 6 were so…tense. This scene specifically. They just ooze sexual tension. Like…their are so many unspoken words between them. So many things they want to unleash, all the anger they have pent up, not exactly at each other, but just in general.
Hell, Kit said himself. “Sansa twists him in ways no one else can. She gets under his skin.” We’ve seen this before, with Ygritte. When they were together, Jon and Ygritte argued a lot. It came to a boiling point when they fucked in a cave. Jon and Sansa’s chemistry has yet to come to the ‘boiling’ point. In the tent though, with all the heavy breathing, the lighting, and the intense eye contact, I was halfway expecting Jon to throw Sansa on the table and fuck her senseless.
If they weren’t ‘brother and sister’ no doubt that would have happened.
I’ve also said before that they have this unspoken thing to their relationship. They can communicate without words. Like when they were meeting with Lyanna Mormont, Jon knew when to jump in when Sansa needed him, and Sansa knew when to jump in when Jon needed her too.
I love that.
Point 3: Their compatibility.
Now, at the moment they do consider themselves ‘brother and sister.’ Even though they don’t act like it.
Now, season 6 and 7 has shown us that Jon needs help when it comes to political aspects of ruling. And Sansa, well, she admits that he’s the ‘military man.’ Sansa knows the south, because she was experienced it, she’s tasted the betrayal, the death, the hypocrisy. She’s been flung into it, the only thing that protected her was her ladylike facade.
Also, in the books, Jon and Sansa dream of having children that look like their deceased siblings. And have their names. They dream of returning to Winterfell, they think about it constantly. Also, the books show the parallel journey that they both take. It isn’t as noticeable in the show, but book-wise, it is very plainly seen.
Also, my last meta was about redheads, and why Jon seems so drawn to them. He’s drawn to them because of two women he couldn’t get to notice him. Cat especially. I also mentioned that he ‘detested’ ladies, but that’s just a front because of the wounded pride aspect of it. He knows he’ll never be with a lady of a great house. He ‘hates’ them, but begins to love Ygritte because of her stories, and singing. Now, Jon himself, for Sansa, is her hero.
In the books, she dreams of someone beheading Janos Slynt. Well, someone does…Jon Snow.
He’s brave, gentle, and strong.
Point 4: The Stark name..
I wrote a comment on a video a long time ago, stating that Jon and Sansa are the only two who can rebuild house Stark. If Sansa were to marry another, her children would not have the name Stark. Arya herself, has never wanted that life. Bran, he can’t procreate, because his ‘anatomy’ does not work. He says it himself, he’ll never be Lord of anything, he’s the three-eyed raven.
This is where Starkbowl threw me. They said at the end of season 6, Sansa was pissed because she wasn’t crowned Queen. I didn’t believe that then, didn’t believe it between seasons, and I sure as hell don’t believe it now. Sansa knows if she were Queen, she would be forced to marry a random Northern Lord. Or Baelish would try to get his hooks in her again. She would be sold like cattle once more. I think Sansa was very glad that that wasn’t what happened.
Now Jon: Yes, it is true that Jon is basically a Targaryen. However, if he were to marry a Stark, he could take her name. If he so chose to do so. She could legitimize him as :Stark: by the only way really…marriage.
When Jon’s parentage becomes a known fact, and it will, probably in season 8. We saw the way the Northern Lord’s reacted when they heard Daenerys was in Westeros. How will they feel knowing that Jon, their KING, is a Targaryen? They only put him that spot because they thought he was Ned Starks son. Well, he isn’t. He’s Rhaegar Targaryens. They won’t bend the knee to a dragon. But, if Jon were to marry a Stark, his claim would stay strong, and the Stark claim would stay even stronger. Their children would be Starks, the name carrying on.
Point 5: Their blood relations..
“But, they’re siblings!” False. They are NOT siblings, they are first cousins. And yes, in TODAY’S TIMES, I repeat TODAY’S TIMES, it is seen as taboo, but, back in medieval times, it was considered normal. Even in civil war times, for those who have seen Gone with the Wind, the Wilkes married their cousins. They always did. Melanie was Ashley’s cousin. Also, Sansa was going to marry Robyn Arryn, he is also her first cousin.
Now, looking at blood logistics here:
Siblings share 50% blood relations.
Aunt/Nephew share 25% blood relations.
1st cousins share between 7-12% blood relations.
Also, the Stark line has married cousin/cousin before. Even uncle/niece before. It was not common, but it did happen. It has happened in the Stark line. Ned’s mother and father were cousins. Tywin and his wife were first cousins.
“Were will you go?”
“Where will we go?”
“I won’t ever let him touch you again, I’ll protect you, I promise.”
“We need to trust each other, we can’t fight a war amongst ourselves, we have so many enemies now.”
“Do you think I’m Joffrey?”
“You’re as far from Joffrey then anyone I’ve ever met.”
“You’re good at this, you know?”
“You are. You are.”
“Would that be so terrible?”
“You know him better than anyone, what do you think?”
“You’re abandoning your people! You’re abandoning your home!”
“Until I return, the north is yours.”
“I love Sansa..”
“As I loved her mother…”
“Touch my sister, and I’ll kill you myself.”
^^^^^^(NOT MY PIC!!!)
What does LF know?
“Does she miss me terribly?”
Jon’s expression: =.= bitch please. I will throw your little ass off here.
“I didn’t ask.”
And more to come with Theon, and the Hound later this season.
Anatole! since the tony’s on sunday the great comet’s performance had been in my head all day it was so good - the music - lighting - costumes - energy!! aaaahh //continues to listen to The abduction on repeat
(plus I also think this is the first time ive made actual fanart for a musical??? ) EVERYTHING ABOUT IT LOOKED GOOD OKAY
I am not pro-ana but I am not judgemental.
I’ve been there, I’ve restricted and restricted until
I was counting calories in gum and mints. I’ve watched my body transform from a vessel of life to a skeletal shadow of death.
My body has burned with unquenchable thirst.
Not for water, Lord knows I drank more water in a week than most people drink in a month.. A thirst for beauty. A thirst for society’s acceptance, a thirst for a love that I believed only a skinny girl could afford.
I was one of 5 sister’s. All of which stood under 5'3 with dainty bone structures and size 0 privledge.
I was 5'6 with a large frame and 40 pounds I could stand to lose. Yes, I was the “fat sister”.. My existence was overshadowed by the compliments I was in ear shot of but never received.
I was raised in a strict Christian family that tossed stones in glass houses for fun. I was the target of jokes that revolved around my weight and referenced beached whales, great white whales and the Pillsbury dough boy. I would break down crying on occasion and was met with a less than sympathetic, “oh, grow thicker skin honey.”
I was 19 when I met someone who I trusted. soon my first son was born and I was encouraged not to be so critical of myself. I was told that I was beautiful, intelligent, an amazing mother and that I had nothing and no one to worry about. 3 years down the road I finally listened, I was 60 pounds over weight but I had so many qualities that made the number on the scale irrelevant to me.
I wasn’t perfect but that was perfectly okay. 🌹
And then my world was turned upside down..
01/06/14: my dad wakes up in a panic, he can’t breathe. The police are called, paramedics swarm the house, he’s placed on oxygen and transferred to the hospital. He’s going to be okay, he just needs oxygen, antibiotics and rest.
01/07/14: we get a call, he’s being sedated into a medical coma. His lungs are 98% compromised, it’s bilateral pneumonia, it’s not good. He’s stabilized and rushed to a more advanced hospital 2 hours away, he’s placed on ecmo.
01/20/17: he’s been sedated for 14 days, his last words are on repeat in my head as I attempt to sleep for the first time in days. He’s pleading for water in his semi-concious state but the doctors won’t allow him to have so much as a wet sponge. Suddenly, a cellphone rings out in the dark. It’s the doctors, we need to get to the ICCU asap. He’s bleeding internally and his oxygen levels are plummeting, he’s dying. There’s nothing that can be done so we’re forced to let him go.
Cue water obsession. I’ve carried water with me since his death, the only thing that can stop my crippling anxiety attacks is chugging water. It never made sense, but it worked.
3 months later, my relationship has deteriorated. My nearly two year old son still crawls into the living room and stares at papa’s recliner before walking up to it and saying “pah, pah, pah.” He still points at the picture of my dad on the dining room wall when we’re at the dinner table and smiles.. I wish I could be so young and innocent. I wish I could face tragedy with a smile.
Fast forward 3 days, I’ve just found out that my fiance, the same person who would tell me not to be so unsure, the same person who would reassure me that I had every reason to be confident in him has revealed that he has been having an affair with my younger sister for over a year.
I’m destroyed but I can’t muster a tear. I’d spent the last three months crying from the moment I woke up to the moment i went to sleep. I was numb. I’ve just lost the only two people who ever had faith in me. One to an untimely death due to a virus mutation that is still being investigated by the CDC and the other to my sister.
“It’s because she was skinny.” I rationalized, “It’s because I haven’t lost the baby weight.” I insisted that it was my fault for not being as visually pleasing as I could have been.
That’s when I met ana.
From that day on and spanning the coarse of two years I restricted, I turned pain into willpower and lost 90 pounds within the first 8 months, Leaving me at 125 pounds. I had done it, I had forced my body into society’s mold. I was the “skinny sister” people made comments like, “you better hold on or you’re going to blow away!” And, “I wish I could look like you! How do you do it?” Oh, and my personal favorite..
“I wish I could eat whatever I wanted without gaining weight.” With a passive aggressive tone in her voice, or maybe it was jealousy?
You’re right, I do eat whatever I want. I come home to a refrigerator with a couple meals worth of tomatoes, cucumbers, celery and carrots. I have a couple frozen chicken breasts and a container of ice for eating when I’m on a water fast and I want texture.
While I’m curled up in bed, clutching a water bottle and diverting my focus from the nauseating hunger pain with calorie calculations, you’re sitting around the bar with friends, sharing small talk, laughter and appetizers.
While I’m standing in the same isle for 15 minutes with my anxious fingers pacing nutrition labels, you’re tossing items into your cart without so much as a glance. You’re running into friends and co-workers, you’re sharing small talk and your collective frustration over shopping last minute on the tax free weekend.
You have a life and a social circle, I have a bottle of water and a Tumblr account. Don’t envy me.
You see, Ana lures you into her trap with the intention to strip you of your better judgment and blind you with dysmorphia. She sets goals that are attainable only to congratulate your success with another set of goals, only this time they’re less attainable. Ana will never be satisfied with you. Your body will forever be a work in progress, not the work of art she promised.
I am now in complete recovery, I have been for two years. I found out I was expecting and I had to learn to love my body just as much as the life within. I’m now embarking on a weightloss journey, a healthy One! I began with calorie restriction to shrink my stomach over the coarse of a week and due to my sedentary occupation I am now eating between 800 and 1,200 calories a day. Fruits, veggies and lean meat. I’m using the power of ketosis instead of the power of starvation and I’m happy to say that I’m seeing the same results as I did two years ago but I’m not experiencing the lethargy, fainting spells and fatigue. I know that it is scary to see food as your friend as opposed to your enemy but it’s well worth a try.
Thank you for reading and as always, stay safe! ♥