I have recently become utterly smitten with the Society of Gentlemen book series by KJ Charles. The book covers are so disappointing and bland and do not do these characters justice AT ALL so I needed to draw the boys myself.
If you like Regency-era stories about gentlemen who like other gentlemen then you should check this series out; it’s got some lovely romance and friendships and supporting-each-other-through-hardship and era politics and scandal and drama and pining. Not to mention bi and demi and trans characters, and none of the conflicts revolve around anyone being ashamed of their sexuality. Oh, and they all have HAPPY ENDINGS! Also people actually communicate and it avoids so many stupid misunderstandings that are so common in love stories.
(Basically everything I’ve ever wanted in historical romance and more)
I really hate when a POC tries to talk about the lack of diversity in books, specifically YA, and someone is like “NO! Here’s a list of 10 black protags! And 5 Native! And 2 Latino! So much diversity if you look!”
No. Don’t give me crumbs and expect me to be happy. Don’t give me the same rehashed story of the Black kid overcoming the projects or the Native kid escaping the rez and their alcoholic parents or the Latino kid getting out of the barrio. That’s not what I want and that’s not what we deserve.
I want books with Native kids defeating aliens. I want books with Black kids overthrowing the government. Give me a book where the protag is a Latino asexual girl who has a wild adventure with her two new unlikely friends.
But don’t give me fucking crumbs and expect me to be satisfied. Everyone wants to eat a full meal at the goddamn table, you feel?
the rains, gentle dripping of promises
of new life as the sun rises behind
the backdrop mass of grey clouds
with sycamores, a sculptured death cycle
if the beauty is in the whole of it.
if beauty is rain, grass, worms wriggling up
sidewalks, wet, littered with leaves
leaves clinging to trees, trees rising barren leafless beauty skeleton fit structures
if all that is deeply satisfying,
beautiful, soul happiness is sinking
masses blending to landscape
if becoming part of the larger whole
mutely without justification.
beauty is in just being
pure happiness comes through, not in dreams
but settling into the cycle life
accepting my place in death
What is the text evidence or author comments that Jon and Sansa were not close as children? This seems like a silly question because the accepted view is that they were not close. But what is the actual book evidence. Or is it the lack of book evidence, as in them never sharing a scene? The example of Sansa saying Jon is jealous of Joffery because he is a bastard is evidence of typical sibling stuff. Jon made a jerky comment. Sansa heard about it and had a more jerky comeback.
I don’t know about about author comments but as far as the text goes, it’s not just that they have never shared a scene.
From the very start, Jon and Sansa are set up as being on opposite sides of the Stark family. They exist in different worlds - Jon is the outsider perpetually struggling with feelings of alienation and not knowing his place in the world; Sansa is very settled in her identity and in her current and future place in society. Jon is the most Northerner of his siblings whether in looks, attitude, cultural leaning or religion; Sansa is the most Southern. Jon wants Winterfell with every fiber of his being and is tormented because he knows he doesn’t belong and can’t stay, Sansa wants to leave Winterfell. Jon is heavily associated with Ned; Sansa with Catelyn. Jon is the stain on Ned’s honor, the Bastard of Winterfell; Sansa, in all her beauty and well-mannered glory, is the prize of Winterfell.
The association with Catelyn in particular is important because Sansa idolizes her mother and strives to be a lady like her which led to her taking in Cat’s attitude and mannerisms as her own. Her worldview is shaped by Catelyn and Septa Mordane’s teachings. Which means she absorbed her mother’s view of Jon unlike her siblings, and it clearly colors how she thinks of him. That’s not to say she hates Jon or anything, but it’s obvious that she does not see him as her family in the way the rest of her siblings are. She always makes the distinction in referring to hims as her half-brother and even corrects Arya when she refers to him as their brother. Even in AFFC, when she thinks of how Jon is the only family remaining to her and yearns to see him, she still struggles with that preservative as she thinks that he is only her half-brother.
How Sansa brings up Jon in the context of thinking about Arya and how different they are in the first book is also telling. Sansa looks down on Arya for not behaving like a proper lady or conforming to gender roles. She is upset Arya is not like Myrcella and can’t understand how two sisters can be so different - and she promptly thinks of how it would be easier for her to understand if Arya was a bastard like Jon. That speaks a lot of what Sansa thinks of the boundaries of a proper relationship between her and a bastard sibling, and the kind of behavior she expects from bastards.
Moreover, the lack of interaction between Jon and Sansa absolutely matters. We generally did not get a lot of scenes between the Starklings in present time but the fact that Sansa is the one sibling we did not see Jon saying goodbye to, other than the toddler Rickon, really stands out. More importantly, we learned a lot about the kind of relationship the Starklings have with each other through their recollections after they go their separate way - and Jon and Sansa are each the sibling the other thinks least of, and when they do, it almost always happens in the context of them thinking about all of their siblings or when one is specifically brought up in front of the other. Contrast that with how Jon often thinks of Arya and Robb and Bran, or how Sansa thinks of Robb and Bran, and even Arya who we know she isn’t close to at all.
And no, Sansa’s comment about Jon being jealous of Joffrey because he is a bastard isn’t typical sibling stuff. This isn’t really about Sansa defending Joffrey with whom she is half in love with already. She is so matter-of-fact about Jon’s comment being born of jealousy. That’s a truth to her, not an opinion, because that’s what she has been taught to expect from bastards.
At the end, it’s the little things that you remember.
Ten years from now, you’re not going to remember how expensive the designer watch that your first love bought for you was, or the times when he claimed his love for you with a bouquet of roses. You’re going to make hundreds of similar memories with different people and eventually, you’ll forget all about the grand, carefully planned out moments.
Instead, all that’s going to be embedded in your memories are the little details. Some days when you’re feeling sad, the memory of you two laughing at an especially bad joke is suddenly going to pop up and make you smile again. At 3A.M., when you’re unable to fall asleep, you’re going to remember how you snuggled with him late at night and how he whispered in your ear about how happy he was to have you in his life.
It’s not going to be about your senior prom or the trip you took to Hawaii, but about the late-night video chats and soft kisses stolen under the moonlight. What he leaves you with are the memories of you two sharing earphones and listening to your favorite music, your first time holding hands with his thumb mindlessly rubbing over yours, and the rush of emotions that charged through your veins when you softly called his name out to yourself.
Although at first you won’t remember the little details of your love story, in the end, they are all that are going to matter.
Imagine that Jamie somehow travels to Claire's time when Bree is still a baby and drops in on Claire randomly like she does in voyager
Anonymous asked: Imagine Claire, Frank, and Brianna’s reaction if Jamie showed up in the 20th century
Jamie stood in between two rows of large houses, illuminated by bright lights that were posted atop poles evenly spaced along both sides of the street he stood on. A strange street too, made of a black material and bordered by a raised grey ridge on either side – both of which were slowly being covered by the fat snowflakes drifting down from the nighttime sky. For all it was peculiar, he felt immediately peaceful, as though he was supposed to be here.
He turned to a blue house with a brown door, feeling inexplicably drawn to it. Fixated as he was on the house, he almost bumped into a couple walking down the street. He turned to apologize, but they didn’t seem to seem him, nor did they seem to have felt him, continuing down the street as though he were invisible. That sent a chill up his spine, and he increased his pace, eager to be inside, where he ought to be – though he could not have said how he knew this.
Without consciously having opened the door, he found himself inside of the house, walking into a large room where he could hear a soft, familiar voice singing.
“and I’ll take the low road / and I’ll be in Scotland before you,”
He stopped dead in his tracks. Claire. He couldn’t bear to take the final few steps and peak around the edge of the wall, sure that the house would be empty, her voice merely the echo of a bone-deep longing. Yet if he could be here in the odd house, he argued with himself, she too could be here. Heart racing, he rounded the corner.
plaid shirts, sunrises over miles of farmland, m&m's scattered on a desk, indie music playing softly in the background, old quilts on woodframe beds, running shoes that need to be replaced, well-worn utility knives, the smell of freshly cut grass
bar-hopping at a quarter to midnight, raw knuckles wrapped in athlete's tape, the sound of a flowing fountain in a big city square, brightly-colored nike workout gear, heeled boots, falling asleep watching bad movies, the smell of exotic food, laughing at innuendo-laden jokes
floral print shirts, a fleece blanket passing through hands, tall travel mugs of coffee, a stack of science books on a neat desk, white sneakers, cartoon-print Band-Aids, cowboy hats, country music playing loudly on a long trip
perfectly plucked eyebrows, white wine pouring into a wine glass, high heels, the smell of a freshly-made cappucino, the sound of an exasperated sigh, rolling eyes at bad puns, driving late at night with the windows down, dark-wash jeans
“From that time on, the world was hers for the reading. She would never be lonely again, never miss the lack of intimate friends. Books became her friends and there was one for every mood. There was poetry for quiet companionship. There was adventure when she tired of quiet hours. There would be love stories when she came into adolescence and when she wanted to feel a closeness to someone she could read a biography. On that day when she first knew she could read, she made a vow to read one book a day as long as she lived.” ― Betty Smith, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn (Photo by Dimitri Caceaune)
This is what I love about OUAT. Belle comes looking for help, she tells Emma and Killian that she’s estranged from her husband, and a few things happen. Emma deems that Granny’s is not good enough, she wants to do better for her friend. But she can’t go right now. So Killian and Belle go alone. And there’s not a hint of worry or jealousy or any of the silly drama that you’d get in some other shows when the main character’s boyfriend goes off alone with a newly-single friend.
Emma wants better for Belle, and doesn’t bat an eyelid at the idea of Killian helping her find that. Because this is a real relationship and real friendship and there’s trust and yeah. I just love that.