like-at-all

FUCK THIS FUCKING FUCKER I THOUGHT HE WAS HOLDING A ROSE!! AND I WAS SCREAMING LIKE WTF PLS LOOK AT HIM AND THIS WARM LIHTINGING WHAT KINDA MOOD??? THEN I REALIZED ITS A DART AND I WAS STILL SCREAMING LOOK AT HIS FUCKIGN FACE!!1!!1! FUCK YOU

  • Star Wars Fans: We want an Obi-Wan Kenobi movie with Ewan McGregor!!!
  • Disney: What's that? A Han Solo movie without Harrison Ford?
  • Star Wars Fans: What? No, we don't want--
  • Disney: And a guy who looks nothing like Han to play Han?
  • Star Wars Fans: No, just--
  • Disney: How about another, white brunette female lead cause Girl Power™, yeah!
  • Star Wars Fans: Female leads are great and all but what about women of color being the lead--
  • Disney: What if this female lead was Han's real love interest and we totally undermine Leia completely?
  • Star Wars Fans: No, that's not what we want at all. Who are you even listening--
  • Disney: Great! It's already in production with a large budget and a predominately white, male cast, but we added Donald Glover so it's all cool!
  • Star Wars Fans: What
  • Disney: Look how excited everyone is for this Han Solo movie! We just started filming today, yay!!! It's gonna be the film of a generation!
  • Star Wars Fans: *sigh*

One thing I don’t understand is how people hate 11 yr old Sansa for her trusting and gentle nature, how she doted on Joffrey and admired Cersei, trusted them in the beginning. But no one seems to ever hate on D*enerys for being daft enough to genuinely believe Mirri Maz Duur was going to save her precious Khal, despite having been r*ped repeatedly by the Dothraki.

Also, it’s incredibly funny how many D*ny stans/J*nerys shippers think Sansa is an irrelevant character? I mean, really, Sansa Stark, the only Stark to have survived the South and made connections with a bunch of characters, the Sansa Stark who is the Key to the North, is irrelevant?

Why don’t y’all just admit that you’re scared because Sansa’s proven to have potential to actually rule, while your pyromaniac conquerer has done nothing except let her allies fucking die because she can’t even manage to do nothing which must mean Sansa has a better chance of surviving because the story needs an already established character to pick up the pieces post-war and D*ny is NOT it.

My girl is out here thinking long term, preparing for refugees seeking shelter, without even having a counsel around to guide her. Meanwhile, your little inbred warmonger is out her fucking up big time while having the best fucking team of intellectuals and generals trying their best to guide her. But does she listen to them? Fuck no.

Timkon prompt-sick day

(Hey, so I finally decided to post some of my writing on here to see the response and decide if i’m going to post anymore. Any feedback is appreciated, positive or constructive criticism! I’m pretty new to writing fanfics.)

———–

Kon woke up sick to his stomach.

 His eyes cracked open to see the room still dark. The sun had yet to filter in through the gaps in his blinds, and the room was silent other than the small electric fan singing monotonously in the corner. He wasn’t sure what exactly could’ve caused him to startle awake. 

 Kon shook his head. His body was drenched in sweat, the fabric of his boxers sticking uncomfortably to his skin like the stray hair plastered to his forehead. His body felt sore and achy, and his stomach lurched as he pushed himself up on his bed.

 Kon blindly grasped for his phone on the nightstand, fingers closing around the object and pushing the home button. The sudden brightness of his screen was blinding as he squinted to check the time. 

 4:10 AM.

 Kon aggressively swiped through his contacts, selecting his friend’s name from the long list and pressing call. The phone rang four times.

 "…-y the fuck, Kon?“ Kon glared into the darkness. "I hate you,” groaned as he crossed one arm over his abdomen. There was a tired moan of frustration on the other end of the call. 

 "Dude, you can’t just call me and say that, you gotta clarify, we’ve been through this,“ Bart huffed. Kon muttered something that even he couldn’t decipher under his breath. Something about Taco Bueno. If the sudden snickers from the other end were anything to go by, his friend had heard him.

 Kon flopped back onto his damp bed, moving his hand to rake his fingers through his hair. "My stomach is killing me, and it’s your damn fault,” he complained. Bart scoffed quietly on the other end. “Whatever, dude. You’re the one who decided to eat seven tacos.” It was true. He did do that. 

 "Tim is coming over today. We were gonna talk about a case and get some stuff done,“ Kon sighed, starting to lean up but stopping as the muscles in his stomach tightened painfully. Shouldn’t he have some alien immunity to this shit?

 ”Hold up, bro. You got sick on date day? That blows,“ Bart’s voice was still heavy with sleep. Kon frowned, his forehead wrinkling. "Solving murder cases isn’t exactly a date. But, still,” he puffed out, turning his head to glare at the wall. “I don’t wanna cancel on him. I haven’t seen him out of costume for weeks,” he murmured. Bart gave a long sigh as Kon shoved his face into the pillow, hoping it might suffocate him. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it. I’ll call him and tell him what’s up and not to come, just go to sleep,” Bart reassured him tiredly. 

 Kon wanted to argue, but he felt like complete shit. His reply was muffled by the pillow as he ended the call and set his phone back on the stand, squeezing his eyes shut. Maybe he would feel better after a few hours of sleep, and then he could still see Tim without humiliating himself. 

 —— 

 When he woke up a few hours later, someone was in his room. Kon jerked out of a dreamless sleep when something touched his face. His eyes snapped open, his body instinctively tensing as he prepared to swing. His gaze settled on the familiar figure silhouetted by his bedroom light, and the scent of expensive soap and shampoo that he had come to love washed over him. His body relaxed. Tim. 

 Tim leaned in closer, smiling slightly. Kon blinked in confusion, but didn’t try and question his boyfriend as he dabbed at Kon’s feverish skin with a damp washcloth, the fingers of his free hand gently brushing his face and checking his fever. “Sorry to intrude. Bart said you were sick and to stay home, but I wanted to come see you,” he spoke quietly, his voice already lulling Kon to sleep again. He nodded and forced his eyes to stay open, staring up at Tim’s face. “Didn’t want you t'see me like this,” he slurred, squinting as he shifted and his muscles contorted, his body tensing. Tim made a concerned noise. He took Kon’s hand and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. 

 "Sorry, babe…g-guess I don’t look that hot right now,“ Kon finally breathed. His stomach was still cramping terribly. He closed his eyes as he felt fingers card through his hair, working out the small tangles from sleep. "You always look handsome. Even sweaty and sick. Though, I wouldn’t recommend doing this often,” he chuckled, fingernails scraping Kon’s scalp in a relaxing way. He cracked open his eyes. “M'tired. Stay?” He asked. Any other time, he would hate how vulnerable he sounded. But this was Tim. They felt safe enough around each other to be vulnerable, and trusted each other enough to not hide it. Tim nodded, still gripping one of Kon’s hands firmly.

 "I’ll be here when you wake up. Then we’ll get you cleaned up and get something light to eat,“ he promised, and Kon let his eyes close and his mind drift, knowing he wouldn’t wake up alone.

At the center of the grove an ancient weirwood brooded over a small pool where the waters were black and cold. (AGOT)

the two most notable features to the godswood in winterfell are the weirwood and the pool of water. they are the physical manifestation of the old gods. these deities of the north have no names for a reason. they are simply the trees and waters of the wild. they’re also representative of arya and bran in many ways 

A thousand eyes, a hundred skins, wisdom deep as the roots of ancient trees. That was as good as being a knight. Almost as good, anyway. (Bran, ADWD)

bran has a serious connection to the heart trees. its actually literal. most people can’t even see the roots let alone tap into the tremendous power there but bran isn’t most people. he is a greenseer who can connect with the weirwoods and see through its eyes going back thousands of years. trees symbolize knowledge and strength and life. that makes it the perfect symbol for bran; the boy who survived that fall, who is stronger than he knows, and is on the path to learning everything. 

She almost bit her lip again, but this time she caught herself and stopped. My face is a dark pool, hiding everything, showing nothing. (Arya, ADWD)

water is truly arya’s element. its a constant motif in her storyline because of her adaptable nature. she even thinks of herself as being calm and mysterious like water to hide her emotions and /or cope with fear. there is a pool just like the godswood’s at the house of black & white. pools are often viewed as sources of magical power too. they symbolize both life and death. water is a necessity for all living things but it can kill too. which is a very appropriate symbol for arya. she’s protects her pack, ensuring their survival is her main goal, but she will kill her enemies. 

The gods the children worshipped were the nameless ones that would one day become the gods of the First Men—the innumerable gods of the streams and forests and stones. (TWOIAF)

there is power in nature. thats something most of mankind does not respect. when the first men came to westeros they destroyed the heart trees and went to war with the children of the forest. but eventually they learned the power of the wilds and adopted the old gods. arya and bran are descendants of these people. they don’t just respect the trees and rivers though. they actively embrace it whether literally or figuratively. the trees and waters are things that are visible on the surface but their true depths are hidden underneath the earth where most cannot see them. the darkness gets a bad rep but its in these secret places theres hidden strength and knowledge. thats a crucial theme to both arya and bran’s arcs. 

Personal opinion but comic books would be so much better if I wasn’t reminded of joker’s existence every five seconds. You know that stupid line “When super-villains want to scare each other, they tell Joker stories.” and all other stupid lines similar to that? 

They’re always made by people outside of Gotham. Because any Gotham rogues fan dang well knows that none of these assholes takes any of the other assholes seriously. 

This whole war of jokes and riddles is stupid because who in Gotham doesn’t fetching want Joker dead? Rogues and civilians alike should just team up, beat the crap out of him, spit on his corpse, pee on it, and then let him get eaten by a shark.