One thing i hate about those damn aesthetic moodboards is that they steal photographs and art from other people, idk why people thing stealing photography or textures or those quotes on coloured backgrounds is ok lmao at least include a source.
It’s strange how I don’t have a good outlook on life when I think about myself living but when it comes to other people my outlook on life is positive, it’s like I have light inside me that’s not burnt out yet but I haven’t found it for myself
Aaah how could I resist the opportunity to get Jonsa goodness! Could you please write something about Jon helping Sansa get dressed or doing her hair or such?
Thank you for the ask my dear! I wrote this a while ago, but I think it fits the prompt? Xx
Sansa tried to be scrupulous about appearances. They mattered. She knew that better than most. The Lannisters had wrapped her in lions, complete with teeth and claws, the day she wed Tyrion. She’d worn her own dress emblazoned with a wolf when staring Ramsay down, and she’d drawn strength from it.
So she was angry she’d let her hair get away from her. The past week hadn’t given any of them a moment’s rest. A raven had come to Winterfell heralding the arrival of Daenerys Targaryen. Sansa heard whispers of the queen’s beauty, even this far north. She’d thought herself past vanity. Apparently she’d been mistaken. She was vain enough to want her hair to shine like burnished copper, as it had when her mother brushed it, so she could greet the queen with confidence. But late nights and early mornings had forced her to braid her hair quickly, to keep it out of the way of the maps spread out hastily in Winterfell’s great hall.
Now it was tangled, hopelessly, in the back. She was standing, scowling at her reflection. I don’t have time for this.
She heard a knock at the door. “Sansa, it’s Jon. May I come in?” She almost turned him away. But the news he carried could be important, and she couldn’t shut herself in her room forever.
“Yes, come in please, Jon.” He closed the door, cutting off the colder air from the hallway. Sansa cursed as the brush got stuck once again. Jon seemed shocked. She’d probably never cursed in front of him before.
“Sansa, what’s wrong?”
Sansa was too tired to lie. She’d have to tell him. She sighed, setting the brush down. “Jon, promise, please, not to laugh.”
Jon looked about as far away from laughing as possible, but then again, he usually looked solemn. “I won’t, Sansa.”
“It’s-“ Sansa gestured fruitlessly to the back of her head. “My hair, Jon, it’s tangled, and I can’t brush through it. And no, I can’t ask a lady’s maid for help, I can’t ask anyone for help, because I can’t let them-“
Jon strode across the room, and his arms were around her before she could get out the rest of the warning. Sansa stiffened, and Jon loosened his grip, ready to release her. He felt…good, warm and solid, and Sansa focused on her breathing. He won’t hurt me. He won’t. She gathered up her courage and leaned into him. Jon held her a little tighter, and waited. She sensed he was ready to stand there all night, even all week.
“Sansa, you don’t have to explain.” Jon’s voice was low, and soft, and she could feel his words reverberate in his chest. She held on to his shirt with one hand. “I just – if there’s anything I can do, to help you, please tell me.”
Sansa focused on the feel of Jon’s stubble against her cheek, and the scent of leather that clung to him. Maybe she could make a jest, to get out the mess she’d found herself in. “Do kings brush hair?”
Jon tilted his ear towards her. “Hm?” She couldn’t blame him. She’d spoken directly into the fabric of his shirt. She pulled back, and tried for lightness. “Kings. Do they brush hair?”
She waited for a hint of a smile. Instead Jon held her gaze, his eyes dark and serious. “I don’t know about kings, Sansa, but I’d try, if you wanted.”
Sansa didn’t trust herself to speak just then, so she reached for the silver brush on her table. Her hand shook slightly. She held it out to him. Jon took the handle from her. He still hadn’t let her go, and Sansa found she didn’t want him to. She felt safe, and wished she could keep him here, in her chambers. That thought led to other half-suppressed feelings she knew she had to ignore, so she turned, and sat.
Jon was at a loss, but determined. He cleared his throat. “Is it better if I stand?”
“It’s easier if you sit in a chair behind me.”
“I saw your mother and you like that, once.” Jon pulled up a chair behind her. He was quiet, which was a blessing. Sansa expected the large knots in her hair were intimidating. She was about to give Jon some advice, to tell him he might have to start with his fingers, when he made quick work of the first tangles. She looked at him in the mirror, surprised. “Have you done this before, Jon?”
Jon shrugged. “I brushed horses at the Wall,” he said, and then shut his eyes. “I can’t believe I just said that out loud.” Sansa was speechless. The chagrin on Jon’s face was too much, and Sansa couldn’t help a small laugh at his expense.
She covered her mouth, chastened. “I’m sorry, Jon, that was unkind.”
“No, it’s all right. It’s…I’m glad to hear you laugh.” The corner of Jon’s mouth turned up, and he kept working. “Your hair’s so fine, anyway,” he said gently, “the knots come out easily.” Sansa knew he wasn’t telling the whole truth. The tangled mess was challenging, but Jon was patient. Soon Sansa closed her eyes, tilting her head back. It was such a luxury, to have someone do this for her. It was such a luxury not to flinch at someone’s touch. She heard his chair scrape against the floor to get a bit closer. She felt his fingertips at her temple, lightly, at the beginning of each stroke through her hair.
“Is this too hard?”
“No, Jon, you’re gentler than mother was.” She yawned, and dimly realized he’d not told her where he needed to be next.
When she woke the room was dim. The sun had almost set. She could feel Jon’s presence behind her. “How long was I asleep?”
“Not that long.”
He was a terrible liar. “Jon, the sun’s gone down, it’s been at least a few hours. Were you here, the whole time?”
“Aye I didn’t - you looked so peaceful, I didn’t want to wake you.”
“You’re welcome, Sansa.”
“How did you get out that one huge knot in the back?” She couldn’t believe she’d slept through that.
“I just…concentrated,” he said, and something in his tone made her shiver. “Do you need me to braid it? You’d have to show me, it always looks so intricate, around your head, small braids and large ones.” His forehead creased. A man ready to lead an army to war, flummoxed at the thought of dressing a woman’s hair. She could only imagine what he would have made of the elaborate styles she’d worn back when she thought Cersei Lannister was the height of grace and beauty.
Sansa did want his help, and soon. But this wasn’t the time. “No, you’d better go, I’m sure Davos and Tormund are wondering where you are by now.” He looked at her in confusion and she sighed, inwardly. Think, Jon, you spent hours in your sister’s bedroom, unplanned, people see, they talk. He got up with a strange reluctance and paused at the door.
“Good night, Sansa.”
“Good night, Jon.” Her hair flowed like silk as pulled it over one shoulder. She looked down at the silver brush on the table. There was barely a strand caught in it. She wouldn’t have been half so careful herself. Sansa braided her hair back to keep it from tangling again while she slept and threw two extra logs on for light and warmth. She slept well, and long, that night, dreaming of copper and fire and Jon’s dark eyes.
I love tumblr. I really do. The people on here are pretty much amazing and the community is awesome. I come on here for peace and serenity and to maybe laugh at someone’s text post. But obviously with something good must come something bad- as it is clear us humans can’t seem to go without occasionally and unnecessarily hurting people. Let me give you an example of what I saw.
Let’s get this straight, I don’t want to name names or get any user in ‘trouble’. That’s not why I’m writing this post. I guess what I’m trying to do is show others on here who might have said something nasty in the past to realise what they did was wrong. Ok. Let’s get on with the example.
I was just scrolling through my feed (as you do) when I saw one of my much loved followers answering to an anonymous question. At first I didn’t read it but after a few seconds I saw that the reply was long so I scrolled back up. This is what the message said.
“Fuck you and your accounte. YOU DON’T DESERVE TO LIVE. Go spurn your disgusting opinions elsewhere you idiot”.
I was shocked. Not only at the language and the incorrect spelling but also at how this message was directed at someone who had simply posted something about loving a couple on a tv show. I even re-read it to make sure I was correct. Now of course the reply was sassy and rude back, as I would also do. But I know that the person who wrote that reply was most certainly deeply upset.
We come to tumblr for a safe environment. We don’t come here to be harassed, bullied and shamed for liking something. What’s next? Are we going to get shamed for the colour of our skin, the way we speak or where we live? I was disgusted at the mere thought of this.
And what’s worst was that it was anonymous. This person spurning out hate was too afraid to even do it from their account. Because it all seems so easy, too easy to hide behind your screen and knowing you cannot be caught.
I just want everyone to think. Don’t we all want a calm and nice place where there is no hate on what we like? We don’t know what that person is going through that we hate on. The girl you called stupid might have a serious medical condition that makes everyday a struggle. The guy you shamed for being gay might get bullied at school because he is simply different.
The sister who posts about her heritage to remember her sister who died only to get abuse. Is this the world we have created?
No one and I repeat NO ONE has the right to tell someone else they cannot live. It’s unbelievable that you would even say the things before but that is something only deeply horrible and unkind people would do. Just think before you write that comment, what would the person I love most in the world think about that? What would the future me think about that? Do I want to be that person? The one that makes people cry and think dark thoughts. The person that makes the user feel like quitting a site they like?
I just want to finish off my extremely long post with a quote which I think is rather fitting.
“Hate has caused a lot of problems in the world but it has not solved one yet”.
Thank you 💕And please repost if you feel the same way. We need to spread this around to make more people aware that actions have consequences.
♠️ Headcanon: I get an inordinate amount of butterflies in my tummy when I think about Hatori speaking English. If you know anything about Hatori and his character, you’ve probably picked up on his obvious preference for American things and American culture! His suits, his home, his car, the literature he reads… Mostly all American! He obviously likes the culture, my bet is because it’s different from his own. Having his whole life planned out for him by his father, being stuck in Japan for the rest of his life… It’s no wonder that the dragon is interested in traveling and learning about different cultures.
The point of this headcanon is about Hatori speaking English!
It’s obvious that he can read English perfectly, and I bet he can easily understand it as well. If you were to walk up to Hatori and start speaking to him in English, I can almost guarantee that he would fully understand you. He can hear English and understand, he can read it, but… I bet when it comes to SPEAKING English, he’s absolutely hopeless. His Japanese accent is SO thick, it hinders his pronunciation terribly.
When he tries to speak English, his sentences aren’t exactly grammatically correct, and he stutters and stumbles over his words. This is because his entire family and everyone he’s ever been around is Japanese, he’s never really had the chance to practice his English out loud, he’s only ever read it/heard it. This is a huge source of embarrassment for him, because he’s trying his hardest and it’s not working. Hatori is the type of man who can do anything perfectly when he sets his mind to it, but speaking a completely different language is escaping him. Hatori gets very flustered and upset, which only just hinders his English speaking even more. For once, he’s not used to being kind of bad at something- Hatori has always been good at everything he’s tried to do/worked towards in his life.
I don’t know, the thought of an embarrassed Hatori trying to speak politely to someone and say their name, but he’s stumbling over his words/stuttering and unable to form correct sentences is easily the cutest image in the world to me. Putting him in a vulnerable position like that is adorable. Can you imagine the relief on his face when they surprise him and speak to him in Japanese and he realizes his can use his native tongue and not have to continue struggling along with speaking English? Have you guys ever listened to a person with their native tongue being Japanese try to speak English? It’s one of my secret weaknesses, it’s entirely too cute.