‘Life is very full of sex, or should be. As much as I admire Tolkien — and I do, he was a giant of fantasy and a giant of literature, and I think he wrote a great book that will be read for many years — you do have to wonder where all those Hobbits came from, since you can’t imagine Hobbits having sex, can you? Well, sex is an important part of who we are. It drives us, it motivates us, it makes us do sometimes very noble things and it makes us do sometimes incredibly stupid things. Leave it out, and you’ve got an incomplete world.’ George R R Martin (source)
no disrespect to george rr martin but this quote cracks me up bcos every time i see if I’m just like, no george… you can’t imagine hobbits having sex. ;P
FOUND IT & I say again: I can imagine hobbits having sex just fine.
Georgey boy here forgetting Sam’s 13 kids.
he didn’t forget about them. he just doesn’t understand where they came from.
That’s even funnier, then.
george rr martin, looking at the gamgee family tree and crying: wh-where… where did they all come from…….
this man is apparently under the impression that we need sex scenes to understand that sex exists in any given story universe and honestly that explains so much about his writing
It really does
HOBBITS FUCK GOOD AND THEY FUCK OFTEN
“When we are going to have sex?”
“…We’ve already had it.”
“We’ve had it once, yes. What about second sex?”
Does he realize The Hobbit is a children’s book?
“I mean it’s very whimsical and fun but where are all the sex scenes”
I had a dream that the king and the queen of a small country had a daughter. They needed a son, a first-born son, so in secret, without telling anyone of their child’s gender, they travelled to the nearby woods that were rumoured to house a witch.
They made a deal with that witch. They wanted a son, and they got one. A son, one made out of clay and wood, flexible enough to grow but sturdy enough to withstand its destined path, enchanted to look like a human child. The witch asked for only one thing, and that was for their daughter.
They left the girl readily.
The witch raised her as her own, and called her Thyme. The princess grew up unknowing of her heritage, grew up calling the witch Mama, and the witch did her very best to earn that title.
She was taught magic, and how to forage in the woods, how to build sturdy wooden structures and how to make the most delicious stews. The girl had a good life, and the witch was pleased.
The girl grew into a woman, and learned more and more powerful magics, grew stronger from hauling wood and stones and animals to cook, grew smarter as the witch taught her more.
She learned to deal with the people in the villages nearby, learned how to brew remedies and medicines and how to treat illness and injury, and learned how to tell when someone was lying.
Every time the pair went into town, the people would remark at just how similar Thyme was to her mother.
(Thyme does not know who and what she is. She does not know that she was born a princess, that she was sold. She only knows that one night after her mother read her a story about princesses and dragons, her mother had asked her if she ever wanted to be a princess.)
((Thyme only knows that she very quickly answered no. She likes being a witch, thank you very much, she likes the power that comes with it and the way that she can look at things and know their true nature.))
The witch starts preparing the ritual early, starts collecting the necessities in the winter so they can be ready by the fall equinox. Her daughter helps, and does not ask what this is for, just knows that it is important.
The witch looks at Thyme, both their hands raised into the air over a complicated array of plants, tended carefully to grow into a circle, and says, sorry.
Whoever her soulmate was, Sansa wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to meet them. They’d likely not live long enough if they kept at it. Starting at birth, Sansa was often riddled with pain, the sort that meant her soulmate had been severely injured. It had driven her parents insane with worry since she spent so much of her childhood laying abed with invisible injuries. At first Sansa didn’t understand and she was angry that she was stuck with a soulmate that hurt themselves so much. She would be sitting with Septa Mordane working on her stitching and it would be coming along so wonderfully and then all the sudden she would seize up with a bolt of pain that felt like a knife entering her body and she’d ruin it. She got so angry and bitter about it that she would wait until late at night when her soulmate would likely be trying to sleep and she would take a knitting needle and stab herself in the palm of her hand just to give him a jolt and wake him up. It served him right for ruining her embroidery.
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No giveaway blogs.
The giveaway closes on my birthday, October 14! You have until then to reblog this post.
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You must reblog this post to enter, and you must be following me.
You can reblog this post as many times as you want.
Likes count as an additional entry.
No giveaway blogs.
The giveaway closes on my birthday, October 14! You have until then to reblog this post.
The winner will be chosen on October 14 at 11pm PT. The winner must have their askbox open, and they must respond within 3 days, or a new winner will be chosen.
Y’know I reblogged this a bit ago and was saved from financial probation and getting kicked out of school because of it, just mere months from graduation. Got a call from the financial aid advisor telling me that they made a mistake with filing my account (or some other sort of clerical error) and said that, basically, they owe me money. Welp.
Last time I reblogged the money cat, I won two $100 gift cards at work.
