#btw he is inscribed

[peepongos]

that guy from the anime campaign session i ran a bit ago his names milk boy and he was willed into important character status by my players because he reminded them of

and hes also becoming a player character in a session my friend is gming so we do a little milk boy gaming

#epithet erased oc #btw he is inscribed #his epithet is not milk </3 #maybe ill post the other art i did for that session #if i rember to #epithet erased #banzai blaster oc #banzai blasters #EE #anime campaign #anime campaign oc #is that a tag that gets used at all ???? #original character #oc artwork #art #artists on tumblr #digital drawing #drawing #digital art #my art #artist #digital doodle

[reiderwriter]

Hi love! How are you? I'm currently obsessed with your content and I was hoping I could make a request?

I have this idea of Spencer just like reading a great book and maybe his bombshell girlfriend just loves to see him read cause, of course he looks AMAZING, so she gets a little flustered and h@rney because of him, and while Spencer often can't believe he has such a gorgeous girlfriend he still gets all cocky and proud for how obsessed she is with him.

Something like fluff and smut maybe?

Also if this doesn't resonate with you feel free to ignore it. Thanks and lots of love!

(hope I'm making the request in the right place btw <3)

A/N: Hello! This was absolutely the right place to request. Thank you once again for sending it in! I made this one a little bit soppy and soft, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless! As much as I love rough/dominant/ playful smut, tender smut does sometimes just have me feeling very 👉👈☺️ you know?

Find my masterlist here ❤️

Warnings: 18+ minors dni, mutual masturbation, tender sex, slight thigh riding, hints at soft!Dom Spencer

You were usually happy to pick up a book and read along with Spencer when he got in one of these days, but today something felt charged.

You weren't sure if it was the way his hands were tensed, flowing across the page like it was his one mission in life to take in every word ever written, or the way his hair half hung in his face, but he'd enraptured you.

You sat in a suspended daze, not looking away, grin splitting your face without a care in the world.

When he got like this, it was like your heart was going to burst with admiration.

“Y/N, you're staring at me.” He tried to make the words stern, keeping his eyes on his book and continuing to read, but you noticed his hand having to go over the same spot two or three times, noticed the pink hue of his cheeks as you leaned in and tucked his hair out of his eye. You made sure to let your hands linger, falling down from his ear to his neck slowly as you let them fall away from him.

“How could I not stare at you?” You caught his eye and your heart sang, kneeling up on the sofa next to him as you basked in the sunlight of his attention.

“I thought you wanted to read?” He laughed a little, fingers stilled on the page as his other hand cradled the spine in one. You felt ridiculous feeling jealous of how tenderly he held the book, how you desperately wanted his fingers to run across your skin like that.

You wondered what words he would read across your face, your thighs, your breasts and hips. You wondered what telling signs of devotion would be inscribed there.

“Spencer, please put the book down,” you held out a hand for the book as you said the words, and he contemplated for a second before giving in. “Thank you.”

You carefully placed a bookmark in the book - habit not necessity - and scooted an inch closer to your partner.

“Spencer. You are too distracting. I cannot read, and therefore, neither can you.”

“But I'm not distracted, Y/N.” He laughed a little at your childlike jealousy, the poit forming on your lips as you pushed up against him in protest of his words.

“I'm sure I can distract you if you'd like.” You lay your hand over his crotch then, slowly tracing your lusty thoughts through his pants.

“You're a brat, you know that?” He whispered, bringing a hand over yours. He didn't stop you though, but controlled your movements, showing you how hard you should press, how fast your movements should go. You loved this silent guidance from him, loved that he took you seriously enough to show you what he needed.

“Takes one to know one.” You winked back at him and his face flushes some more, a giggle escaping your lips as your fingers fumbled with his pant buttons.

He pressed a kiss to your lips and grabbed your hip with his spare hand, pulling you into his lap within another shared breath.

“Then I guess we'll just have to make each other behave,” he whispered, tugging your skirt up just as you managed to free his cock from his pants. He lifted his hips slightly to push the clothing down into a more comfortable position, before placing his lips back over yours, letting his fingers blindly find your center.

His hands slid along your skin with all the care and attention you were used to. He was always light and teasing with his touches, caressing you until the point of insanity before pushing you further and sending you spiralling into a fit of pleasure.

As his fingers swirled across your clit you moaned into his kiss, keeping your pace on his cock steady as you both worked towards your climax.

These lazy embraces were the highlight of your monotony, the bliss found in each others hugs, kisses, touches and caresses enough to sustain you for weeks.

You never could keep your hands off of him for that long though.

“Spencer, please, I'm going to cum.” You whimpered as his thumb dragged across your clit, other fingers exploring your depths now.

Your hips rocked against his dominant hand as his other guided your own still, his small hisses and moans only spurring you on and working you up, nearing your finishing line.

“Y/N, you're so beautiful.” He moaned, stilling your hand as his cock twitched, shooting his white load across the bottom of your stomach and underside of your dress.

The sight of him coming undone in your hand was enough to have you clenching around his fingers. He didn't stop but let you ride out the aftershocks of your orgasm, stroking your back and smoothing your hair out as you regained your breath and composure.

“I need to clean up.” You whispered, letting your forehead rest against his.

“We need to clean up. How about a bath?”

With a smile and a giggle, you pressed another lingering kiss to his temple before slowly climbing up and off of him.

“No books allowed, though?” You said, questioning the man's motives.

“My hands are yours, Y/N.” you rolled your eyes and dragged him up, letting him cradle you in his arms as you walked to the bathroom joint at the hip.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #reiderslibrary #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #maturereiding

[chrollohearttags]

being country boy reiner’s cute spoiled wife, literally drooling at the thought

boyyyy I’m literally about to faint 🤤 this is my dream fr. freaky deaky shit up under the cut btw.

cw: dom-ish reiner, unprotected sex, foot play, established relationship obv, missionary/mating press, breeding

when I tell you !country boy reiner spoils the hell out of his wife, it makes no sense! A simple man who’s never wanted for anything..spends his days on the cattle ranch, working tirelessly to provide and give you everything you could ever hope for. As far as he was concerned, your happiness was his only priority. To see you smile was the only motivation he needed to fuel him. He didn’t want you worrying that pretty little head about anything..you often time spent your days decorating the house, baking treats and just living every bit of the soft life you deserved. Wearing pretty, frilly dresses and looking like a doll; he kept his hands dirty so yours wouldn’t have to lift a finger. Bills? Always paid. You couldn’t remember the last time you had even saw one. Needed your hair done, a wig install or a new outfit? Baby, take that black card and run it up, big papa will worry about the bank statement later. That new purse that just got released? Order it in every color if that’s what you wanted. “Get whatever you want, princess. I don’t care.” He’d simply send you off with a kiss to the cheek and tell you have a good time, just call to let him know you were safe. Watching you drive off in your black G-Wagon or Audi R8 he got you for your birthday from the eighty acre estate you lived on. Honey, he was the whole package and you loved him more than life itself. Fine as hell, a great provider and always wanted to handle you like the most fragile thing in the world? Just perfect! Not only that, he was super loving and attentive. Making you sure you were okay, checking in and just doting on you every chance you got. Now even though !country boy reiner never asked a thing of you, you always had a hot meal on the table for him. Cooking up giant spreads of southern, rib sticking favorites of his: cornbread, chicken, steak, collared greens, mac and cheese..you’d do it all because you know he’d been out in the fields, rustling up hay or herding cows so naturally, he’d be starving…and he was so grateful.

the only thing he needed in return was a little bit of that beautiful body. Just letting him make love to you after an exhaustingly long day and trust, you were more than up to the task! While you’d be out shopping, you’d pick a few things that were sure to put a big toothy smile on his face…like the cute little pink lace teddy that made your tits look so perfect. From the adorable panties that had ‘kitten’ or ‘daddy’s’ inscribed right on the back. “This for me, doll?” He loved when he’d hop straight out of the shower to the sight of your pretty little ass, waiting patiently in some sexy lingerie or hell, nothing at all. The best way to show off that new nail set you got? Wrap them around his dick as you’re glaring into his eyes; suckling and kissing on his tip. Or display them across those round cheeks as you spread them open. When you had this big, muscular burly man curled over your body, he’d love when you rested those freshly done feet on his barreled chest; rubbing them as he fed you deep strokes. “That color looks so good on you, baby..my favorite.” complimenting the pretty white toes that contrasted with your perfect brown complexion as he popped them into his mouth. Flicking his tongue around them as he fucks your tight little pussy slow..watching you cream on his cock was his reward for the hard day’s work. Folding you up only to fill you full of his cum when he’s finished.

#reiner x black reader smut #reiner braun #reiner smut #nasty reiner supremacy #reiner x black reader #reiner x black reader fluff #reiner headcanons #reiner brainrot #reiner braun smut #reiner braun x black reader #reiner x y/n #reiner x fem reader #aot x black reader #country boy reiner #black fem reader #I just want a crumb #a taste #a mf morsel #aot reiner #aot smut #aot au #black fanfic writer #black reader smut #attack on titan reiner #black reader

[niteshade925]

Apr 11, Xi'an, China, Beilin Museum (Stele Forest):

I must preface this post with an unfortunate news: because the Museum dug up a Tang dynasty taimiao/太庙 (imperial ancestral shrine) within the Museum area itself while renovating, all of the actual steles have been moved in order to begin excavation, and all we saw were ink rubbings of the steles. I will provide some pics I found online of the actual steles where possible.

Jingjiao Stele/大秦景教流行中国碑:

First up is one of the most famous steles of the Beilin Museum, known in the West as the Jingjiao Stele or the Nestorian Stele. The actual name is 大秦景教流行中国碑, which translates to "Memorial of the Propagation in China of Jingjiao from Daqin". Jingjiao/景教 is the ancient Chinese name of Church of the East, and Daqin/大秦 is the ancient Chinese name for Eastern Roman Empire. The stele was first erected in 781 AD (Tang dynasty, during reign of Emperor Dezong of Tang).

This stele is not only valuable because of what it records, but also because it has Syriac on it too:

According to Wikipedia this is what the Syriac text on the bottom says:

"In the year of the Greeks one thousand and ninety-two, the Lord Yazedbuzid, Priest and Vicar-episcopal of Cumdan the royal city, son of the enlightened Mailas, Priest of Balach a city of Turkestan, set up this tablet, whereon is inscribed the Dispensation of our Redeemer, and the preaching of the apostolic missionaries to the King of China. ["The Priest Lingpau", in Chinese] "Adam the Deacon, son of Yazedbuzid, vicar-episcopal. The Lord Sergius, Priest and Vicar-episcopal. Sabar Jesus, Priest. Gabriel, Priest, Archdeacon, and Ecclesiarch of Cumdan and Sarag."

Here's the full view of the actual stele and the full text:

Letter about a Stomachache/肚痛帖:

This is my personal favorite, by famous Tang dynasty calligrapher Zhang Xu/张旭 (685 ? - 759 ?). This work is hailed as one of the greatest examples of Caoshu/Cursive Script/草书.

The actual contents are quite funny, however, and it roughly reads:

忽肚痛不可堪，

"Suddenly I have an unbearable stomachache,

不知是冷熱所致，

I don't know if it's because of the cold or the heat,

欲服大黃湯，

I wanted to drink some medicine,

冷熱俱有益。

Which should alleviate the symptoms regardless of the cause.

如何為計，

What should I do,

非臨床。"

Not near bed."

Because Zhang Xu may have been trying to hold it back while writing, you can see feel how his stomachache progressed in the way he wrote everything. Caoshu truly is an expressive script. In fact it's so expressive, the last three characters (on the very left) have become unsolved mysteries in academia. In my own translation above, I just directly translated the three characters that most academics think is on the last line.

Logograms Making up a Picture--Kuixing Pointing at the Dipper/集字魁星点斗图:

This is a very interesting stele, in that it's a carving of a painting that's made up of Chinese characters, which evolved from pictures themselves. The painting is by Ma Dezhao/马德昭, and the stele was erected between 1862 - 1874 (Qing dynasty). It depicts the Kuixing/魁星 (translated as "god of literature", but he's not the only god of literature btw) standing on the back of an Ao/鳌 (mythical turtle creature) and pointing at the character 斗, which is short for the Big Dipper.

The characters making up the god of literature reads:

“正心修身，克己複禮” (written out above in red-orange-yellow-green-cyan-blue-purple-magenta), which roughly translates to "rectify your mind, improve yourself, have self-restraint, and practice good manners".

This painting subject also has a legend behind it. One version says that when Kuixing was a human, he was a talented and learned scholar who received first place (called zhuangyuan/状元) in the imperial exams, but because his ugly appearance scared the empress, he was chased out of the palace. Out of anger at how he was treated, he threw himself into the sea and drowned. The Jade Emperor pitied him, so he gave the scholar a red brush, and made him watch over all imperial examinations. Thus Kuixing became the god of all students and aspiring scholars.

Logograms Hidden in the Picture--Bamboo Poem about Guanyu/关帝诗竹:

This stele erected by Han Zai/韩宰 in 1716 (Qing dynasty) is similar to the previous one in that it's also a picture made up of Chinese characters, but it's more hidden within the picture.

It's a poem about Guanyu/关羽, the famous general during Three Kingdoms period (220 AD - 280 AD), and it reads:

不謝東君意，

I shall not be thanking the spring wind's kindness directly, ("spring wind" here refers to Cao Cao/曹操, who treated Guanyu well)

丹青獨立名。

But shall leave my name in history as an upright loyal person.

莫嫌孤葉淡，

Although the leaves may be sparse,

終久不凋零。

They will never wither and fall.

The poem was supposed written by Guanyu before he left Cao Cao to reunite with his sworn brother Liu Bei/刘备, and uses the imagery of bamboo--both in a visual sense and in a literary sense--as a metaphor for Guanyu's unwavering loyalty.

One Stroke "Longevity"/一笔“壽”:

Again by Ma Dezhao/马德昭, this time in 1870. I must say I like his ideas. This is an abstract calligraphy piece of the character for longevity/壽, written in one stroke, but is actually composed of the numbers 九十九 (99) and 二十一 (21) (read from top down). Because 99 + 21 = 120, and if anyone can live to be 120, they will have lived a long life indeed.

Pine and Red Crowned Crane/松鹤图:

By painter Zhu Jiyi/朱集义 in 1680 (Qing dynasty). Pine in traditional Chinese imagery means resilience and longevity, and red crowned crane also symbolize longevity, especially in Daoist imagery where they are the mount of choice for many immortals. Together they make up the word 松鹤延年, which means "pine and crane brings longevity".

Dongpo's Authentic Work/东坡真迹:

This is an authentic calligraphy work by Su Shi/苏轼 (1037 AD - 1101 AD), whose pen name is Dongpo/东坡. The stele was erected in 1081 AD. Here he wrote down Returning Homeward/归去来兮辞 by Tao Yuanming/陶渊明 (365 AD - 427 AD).

Xie Fangbao's Epitaph/解方保墓志:

Epitaph of Xie Fangbao/解方保, a Sui dynasty (581 AD - 618 AD) general who died in 610 AD. Ancient Chinese epitaphs have a two-piece structure, the tablet where the epitaph is engraved (right), and a protective stone covering that has the deceased's name and title engraved on top (left), surrounded by engravings of imagery that represent the universe. This epitaph is considered to be an excellent example of Sui dynasty epitaphs and calligraphy.

#2024 china #china #xi'an #beilin museum #stele forest #chinese culture #chinese history #chinese calligraphy #calligraphy #chinese art

[cinnamon-girl-writes]

clingy!higuruma headcanons

by @cinnamon-girl-writes

higuruma x reader, fluff, see also: higuruma with a clingy s/o

i know this isn't related to the request but i need to let y'all know because it's been floating around in my brain for weeks now. 

hiromi is extremely inept when it comes to technology. he types on the computer with one finger and doesn't even have a cell phone

he owns a sparkly pink flip phone, it's true he told me himself

jk he owns an iphone 6 with the same generic black case he's had since he bought it

anyways back on topic, if he's the one that's clingy, oh boy

this man works a 9-5 job but he's texting you every hour of the day

his texts are sweet and domestic: 'what are you having for lunch?' 'what are you wearing today?' most of them at least..... [1 image attached]

on my last higuruma headcanons post i said he's an excellent cook and that's still true btw

if you have an office job, best believe he's bringing you homemade meals during your lunch break whenerv he can

speaking of lunch breaks, he tries to schedule his to be at the same time as yours so he can visit you or vice versa

his office is basically tailored to you at this point: pictures of you framed and hung up on the walls, your favorite foods heavily stocked in his desk drawers, your coziest blanket folded neatly in the corner (a gift from him for your birthday last year)

if you can't take lunch breaks together for whatever reason due to your job, Hiromi will pack your lunches ahead of time at the beginning of the week like he's so obsessed with you (in his housewife era)

even if you went shopping for yourself, he always carries in the groceries for you

obsessed with giving jewelry as gifts, espacially for important days like anniversaries

in his eyes, it's a token to how much he loves you and your devotion to him (and he loves to take it off also)

a copper chain necklace with a diamond pendant for your 4th anniversary, a silver bracelet with his initials inscribed on the inside for only you to see

luckily this man has a high paying job or he'd be broke asf

of course, his favorite part of the day is coming home to you. (he's the little spoon btw)

he takes dinners with you as an opportunity to cook you new dishes and experiment a little himself

if you're not japanese, he'd try to learn dishes from your culture to make (!!!!!!!!)

bonus points when he surprises you with them after you've had a long hard day

he's an expert cook but i can just imagine him severely fucking up biscuits and gravy or something (cue "I THOUGHT IT WAS SUPPOSED TO LOOK LIKE THAT????")

#higuruma x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen higuruma #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #higuruma hiromi #jjk higuruma

[skamenglishsubs]

Subtext and Culture, Young Royals, Season 2, Episode 1

Season 2 picks up after the Christmas break, it is now early January 2021, and Wilhelm is asleep, dreaming of Simon...

Cinematography: The show does a slow transition from Wilhelm's sex dream by changing the colours from the soft golden light of his dream, to the harsh early January daylight, and by letting the sound of a vacuum cleaner pierce the signature [dreamy electronic music] of his dream.

Subtext: We're seeing Wilhelm move like a ghost through the palace, ignoring everyone, even his mother. He's still angry with her, and they haven't really talked all break.

Blink and you miss it: It's hard to make out, but Erik's silver cigarette case is also inscribed with Sällskapet - The Society, the ultra-douche nobility club.

Cinematography: Just like last season was bookended by a fourth wall break, here comes the opening montage and a very angry Wilhelm staring into the camera.

Subtext: The August montage tells us a bunch of things. He's been spending Christmas break alone at school since he doesn't really have a family to spend it with, and his eating disorder/body dysmorphia sure isn't getting better.

Culture: Simon is playing the song Aldrig Igen by Cherrie, which is about leaving someone who has hurt you. The repeating refrain goes: "Never gonna happen again. I don't want to feel like that."

Culture: Minimum age for getting your driver's license in Sweden is 18. It's getting more and more rare for people to get their driver's license as soon as possible, because it's simply not a necessity for most. When I went to high school last century (in the 90's), about half the class got theirs at that time. These days less than a third get theirs that early.

Subtext: Although Felice didn't really have a plot of her own this season, I'm glad to see that she learned something last season and keeps ignoring her annoying, prattling, mom. That her friend Sara got into the Manor House is much more important than whatever horsey-horse blah her mom is whining about.

Subtext: Madison hands Sara a crystal, of course she's into that. But I'm not crunchy enough to figure out what the hell she means by "among other things". Help. Anyone? What is that even? Amethyst?

Subtext: "Native Americans and other indigenous peoples have burned sage for centuries as part of a spiritual ritual to cleanse a person or space, and to promote healing and wisdom." Thank you Google for that explanation. And of course it's something Madison would do.

Lost in translation: The English translation of their chanting didn't quite capture everything. A literal translation would be "Fine girls, deep pockets, worship our fine pussies!" But fina flickor is an expression that means well-mannered upper-class girls, djupa fickor is a Swedish idiom that means being rich, and these two fragments both rhymes with and alliterates with fina fittor, except the latter is extremely vulgar, which creates an interesting juxtaposition of contrasting tone. Btw, my high school Swedish teacher was the best teacher I've ever had, and I know he would be so fucking proud of me right now if he could see me writing this! Tack, Magnus.

Subtext: And here comes the first mention of this season's main theme; traditions, upholding them, breaking them, examining them... Interestingly enough it's Felice who suggests breaking it, while all the other girls insist that Sara has to continue the tradition. And boy, does she ever. At least the fire department didn't show up...

Subtext: The real reason August didn't join Vincent or Nils on their expensive Christmas vacation to the Seychelles is of course that he can't afford it. But his dismissive joke also just point to his own eating disorder problems. August, get help.

Subtext: When Simon insta-stalks Marcus we get to see a bit of his personality. Apparently, Marcus likes camping, fishing, hiking, horses, and his Volvo. The 850 is a classic 90's station wagon, and although it's pretty unusual for 18-year-olds to own a car in Sweden, something like that checks out and it's probably his car.

Subtext: Vincent is such an ass, and I love every second of it. He has zero respect for the younger students, he doesn't give a shit that Wilhelm is royal.

Subtext: Wilhelm is being an assertive bitch to August here and insists on him addressing him in third person, as if they weren't familiar...

Blink and you miss it: ...which makes Nils and Vincent laugh, and Vincent makes a mocking salute to Wilhelm.

Subtext: But in the end, August is the prefect, so they do as he says and allow the first-years to join the party, even though they have no idea why August is letting Wilhelm get away with it.

Cinematography: This season also does a lot of mirroring where scenes in this season look like scenes in the first season. This particular one mirrors the one where Simon appears at the initiation party for Wilhelm and catches his eye, except it's a lot more sad this time.

Subtext: Oh look, The Theme™ pops up again, and Simon is of course not a fan of keeping the shitty traditions that forced Sara to do something stupid, so that he had to rush to school to check up on her.

Subtext: Wilhelm is an awkward idiot around Simon. He really has no idea how to reconnect with him.

Cinematography: Again, we're mirroring the initiation party in s1 where Simon excuses himself, but this time Wilhelm doesn't chase after him.

Subtext: I'm sorry what now? Nils is not straight? That came out of fucking nowhere, but ok, let's roll with it! Also, whoever subtitled this is obviously familiar with Tinder, but not with Grindr. Nils says that he saw Marcus on Grindr, not that they matched, because that's not how Grindr works.

Subtext: The main theme of the entire show is about social class, if you haven't figured this out by now. Nils is firmly in team upper-class, and tells Wilhelm how he's supposed to handle dating: Only date or hook up with people from your own class, or with people who know how to keep everything discreet, private, and down-low.

Subtext: Wilhelm looks around in confusion, because he expected Simon to be singing in the choir. Where the hell is Simon?

Subtext: Meanwhile, Simon is late and on the bus with his friends on Team Rebound, who are giving him advice that's gonna turn out to be pretty crap.

Culture: Padel is so middle class, Vincent is right! Padel surged in popularity in Sweden in 2021 for some weird reason, and tons of padel courts popped up all over the country. However, the hype completely crashed in 2022, so most of those places are now facing bankruptcy and people actually talk about padeldöden - padel death, so the sport is kind of a joke right now.

Subtext: Wilhelm puts on the most fake smile ever and says hi to Alexander who is back at school. They were all correct when they said that Alexander really wouldn't get punished for getting caught with the drugs, his parents simply bribed the school to hush it down, but their treatment of Alexander will backfire spectacularly on Wilhelm later in the season.

Subtext: The show is doing a bit of exposition here, but it's also reminding us of who knows what about the sex tape, and why Wilhelm hasn't told Simon that he knows who did it. One more thing that will backfire spectacularly.

Subtext: And in a quick throwaway comment we learn that the late prince Erik had a thing with a porn model, and that the royal court successfully swept that whole thing under the carpet, as they do.

Subtext: The rest of the girls thoughtlessly let Sara pick up the tab for their coffee, which is nothing to them, but for Sara it's half her savings. She's treating them without protest, but doesn't buy anything for herself because she simply can't afford it.

Subtext: Don't sit next to him, don't talk to him, pretend he doesn't exist! Simon is really trying to follow the advice of his friends.

Cinematography: Oh look, a mirroring of the scary movie scene where they touch hands in season 1. Except this time Simon jerks his hand away.

Subtext: The Theme! This time it's Wilhelm who's on team fuck the traditions, although he's doing it just to undermine August.

Lost in translation: Vincent actually uses the word kladdiga - sticky, smudgy - about their hands, which in Swedish implies they're all toddlers who should sit down and shut up while the adults are talking.

Subtext: No, Wilhelm really didn't stick up for anyone last season, he threw Alexander under the bus, and he threw Simon under the bus, so we're just heaping on the guilt now.

Subtext: And we're doing some more exposition to remind everyone about who knows what about the sex tape. Here Sara finds out that August knows that Wilhelm knows it was him, and he's blaming her for telling him, even though she hasn't told anyone. Not even Simon, speaking about things that will backfire spectacularly.

Subtext: Sara's plotline is gaining steam, much like she did after touching August, if you know what I mean, eh, eh, eh? She knows he's a piece of shit, she knows he's a bad person that she can't trust, but she also thinks he's hot as fuck and this obviously causes quite a lot of conflicting emotions in her.

Subtext: No, Wilhelm truly doesn't realize this. He's been trying to get close to Simon in order to get him back, but he still hasn't got a damn clue as to why Simon is keeping his distance.

Subtext: Note that Simon going after Marcus is 100% reactive. He asked him for a ride because he needed to for Sara's sake. And now he's agreeing to karaoke night because Wilhelm just hurt him again, and because his friends have been encouraging him to go for a rebound boyfriend.

Culture: Carola Häggkvist is a very well known Swedish artist and songwriter who had her breakthrough at 17 in the 1983 Eurovision Song Contest with the song Marcus is choosing. She only came in third that time, but won the ESC in 1991 with the song Fångad av en Stormvind. Despite being wacko Christian for a while and married to Norwegian preacher Runar Søgaard, who lost his weapons license after shooting a deer from his bedroom window, she has now mended her ways and is somewhat of a gay icon in Sweden, performing at Stockholm Pride in 2013.

Culture: Främling is about meeting a stranger, falling in love, and taking a chance on this newfound love. Marcus might look like a doofus, but his song choice is pretty clever, although obvious.

Subtext: Can we just appreciate Vincent's dramatics for a second? A first-year not moving their ass off a couch he wants to sit in is apparently causing his entire world to come crashing down. The audacity! Chaos! The system is there for a reason! It provides stability! What's next? Everyone is just gonna sit around playing the bongos? Someone needs to enforce the proper order of things, because August apparently refuses to do so!

Subtext: Some nice foreshadowing here where Alexander checkmates Wilhelm.

Culture: The Swedish Royal Court is an organisation with hundreds of employees who assist the royal family in all their official duties. Here we're seeing the Queen having a late night meeting with some court officials. Although the show doesn't say, it's likely that Minou who was introduced in season 1 is the head of the press and information department, and that the new character Jan-Olof is the Marshal of the Court, which would put him in charge of planning and preparing all official events that the royal family attends.

Subtext: From the perspective of the Queen and the court, Wilhelm's outburst comes out of nowhere. He's been refusing to talk to his mother for weeks, and now he suddenly calls them up, rants about Simon being on a date with another boy, and screams that he doesn't want to become king in the future. In addition, he threatens to talk to the press himself, which makes Minou somewhat concerned to put it lightly.

#young royals #young royals subtext #young royals analysis #young royals season 2

[velvet-apricots]

Hello there! I hope youre having a nice day. Can I ask you to make some proposal hcs for our beloved Gideon Offnir. He is sooo underrated btw. Female pronounces pls

Oh wow! Yes of course! And I am doing well, especially now. Always happy to make more content for our favorite grump.

He’s been seeing his lady love on and off for a very long time when he gets an intrusive thought to just ‘ask her to marry him’. He quickly pushes it aside as foolishness because what room is there for that in this line of work? Being Elden Lord means you must be consort to Marika. You can’t be MARRIED to someone else and do that, or at the very least not stay married, as is shown with Radagon. Not to mention he is a very guarded man, being as close as he is already is pushing what he deems acceptable.

But it keeps coming back. Every time he sees her he just thinks “She would make such a splendid wife.” and he gets increasingly flustered the more it happens. He can’t even look her in the eyes at some points, which when the helmet is on is not a big deal, but it's not HIM.

Finally he caves. The world is falling apart and it's her he wants to marry. If he can only be married to her for a short time, then at least he was married to her once. But this leads to his horrible habit of over preparing to the point he can't DO anything.

He fusses over what to say, how to say it, where to say it. Over dinner? On the balcony? Before the table of lost grace where they first met? Or maybe he should take her outside of the hold and propose someplace in view of something beautiful.

And the ring! Who will make it? Hewg? Someone else? What stone will he put in it? What Metal will he use? Should it be inscribed?

But finally, FINALLY, he manages to get it all sorted out, because unlike preparing to face the Elden Throne and becoming Elden Lord, asking a woman to marry him is a bit easier to figure out. He will set up a small intimate meal in his study before the fire place, he will be out of his armor, well groomed and dressed. Once the conversation goes where he wants it to, he will get up and drop to a knee and ask her to marry him. He tells her that he does not care that eventually, they may be forced to part. That even a short time with her as husband and wife would be everything he could want.

And she will tell him to not be silly. They will be married til the day they die. Elden Ring be damned. 

#Gideon ofnir #elden ring #elden ring hc #elden ring headcanons #gideon ofnir/reader hc #x reader #gideon ofnir x reader #elden ring x reader #asks

[gemsofgreece]

https://twitter.com/MetalClassicist/status/1651617079534182402?t=fBKwyAjyYlS0A3Zfe_iPhg&s=19

Came across this tweet that mentioned a book named Black Athena and that they talked about it on a classics thesis and i am like....why are discussing things about colour again?? What about ethnicity and basic things like historical records??

I am sorry, I gave up after reading almost half of the post. I went to goodreads to check the ratings of Black Athena. It has a rating of 4,12 / 5 and while almost a majority or at least half of the commentators attribute “irrational conclusions” and “wild leaps of logic” and “factual mistakes in the evidence” to the author, most rate the book highly because it is “thought-provoking” and challenges “white-centrism”. So they are rating high a scientific book with confirmed false information that they themselves point out!

According to a comment, the author claims Aristotle had stolen his philosophical work from the Library of Alexandria, but he apparently means Aristotle’s ghost, because Aristotle had died before the library was founded.

Another comment, coming from a pink guy from the north, for he was certainly more pink than white, like many of the self-claimed northern whites actually are, said that it was a good read that must be right because (modern) Greeks don’t look white to him anyway.

I just…

The Greek civilisation has long been stripped from its people. It has been denied its layers and its right to external influences, like all civilisations have, and which are more than normal for a civilisation existing for that long. Its closer descendants (if saying “rightful” makes you get the hives) have been marginalised, mocked and explicitly fought against, to the point that their input is rarely considered.

The irony is that most of these people unabashedly acknowledge the political motivations behind the classics studies that have overshadowed the research that is founded on pure investigation for an objective historical truth.

You have to understand that most of these people do not care about the Greeks, old or new. They have transformed the Greek civilisation into a status of superiority in their minds and thus try to claim it for the political interests they are involved with.

If they are white supremacists, then the first Greeks arrived to Greece from the northern steppes. If they are POC activists or woke whites fighting for the establishments of equal rights (most of whom are breastfed in the west too btw as actual eastern and indigenous POC people rarely have such insecurity in their cultural background), then the Greeks were POC or blacks coming from Africa first thing, whose fake whiteness had been inscribed by the white west for centuries.

The Greeks are anything the speaker wants them to be at any given time or according to the thesis they envision to write, except for ancestors of the current Greeks, not only for various reasons (modern Greeks are too white for POC and wokes’ tastes and too POC for the pink people’s tastes, much like the Ancient Greeks, I suspect) but most importantly because the existence of modern Greeks requires the acknowledgment of a realistic historicity that is not at all convenient to all these people and their aspirations to cement their political ideology or the ethnic / racial / cultural group they belong to as the superior one on the imaginary basis of an idealised and uncontested archetype.

#greece #Greek people #Greeks #Greek representation #someone take Greek historical records from the hands of western academia please #opinion #anon #mail #link

[vagabond-umlaut]

AH. i’ve caught myself fangirling again . Oof. idk if you read webtoons? but like … this ML hits different.

golden retriever vs. yandere. i’ve been obsessed

fangirling's literally inscribed into our dna by this time, babe @k1sakis 🤭🤭🤭 it's been a while since i read any webtoon but— yea yep yes, i can see why this ml hits different— he is worthy to be obsessed over 😌😌❤️

here's a golden retriever yandere i remember reading and loving sooo freaking much, btw 😊😊 amon from 'my gently raised beast'

[i loved amon and blondina sooo much. augh. one of my top otps 🥰]

#ask: nika 💙 #kit's inbox 📧

[ilikedetectives]

I LOVE YOUR ASK BUTTON SO I HAD TO ASK SOMETHING

(I love Kassandra so fuckin much)

Uh, what's your favorite book? XD

Hello fella Kassandra lover!!! Oh dear I have to think about this question, because I notice I tend to not have that one book to name drop, but instead I 'adopt' characters and/or quotes because they "inscribed in my mind and carved into my bones".

Before morally grey drow woman, this man was/still is my obsession, his name is Sha Qianmo (杀阡陌/Sát Thiên Mạch), from a popular xianxia novel Hua Qiangu (花千骨/Hoa Thiên Cốt), whose canonically described as "both men and women in all the realms envy him for his beauty", including gods and demons (this will be important for the plot later). His line is so romantic because he legit goes, "If [the man you love] mistreats/sacrifices you for the people in this world, I will slaughter them all." (which he did btw, he's the most powerful lord on the 'evil' side after all) to the female lead, who unfortunately treats him like an older sister and refers to him as such.

I will never forgive the author for giving him a tragic ending. He treasures his beauty the most and yet my man sacrificed it to save his unrequited love, then ended up in an eternal coma, just for the female lead to end up with the male lead who has been treating her like shit. If it wasn't for my bff who brought the series all the way from Vietnam and gifted it to me, I'd probably yeet it out the window (still have them on my bookshelf btw, gorgeous art covers).

So yea I hate how the book ended, but Sha Qianmo is in my custody now, along with his iconic line.

#I love how his last name just means “Kill” #my bff really went 'girl this series raises blood pressure I read it already so now Imma gift it to u' #in his defense he killed because those deities were stopping him from saving the female lead who was being tortured by the male lead #every page I turned I wanted to durge the male lead 'for the goodness of the realms' my ass #I love evil men in long black hair and evil women in long white hair there's something poetic about that #the show did a perfect cast the actor is phenomenal #I read the 3 books in Vietnamese in 3 days #wish my Mandarin was good enough to read novels #coolseabird #answered #oh no I'm thinking about him again #it's been 7 yrs

[questionable-chnt-hc]

I have no idea how many people who follow this account are into Epithet Erased but anyways I think that if any chnt characters were inscribed it would be fennel (hi I'm the fennel obsessed anon btw), jedidiah, maybe joshua but his epithet is probably like. a confusing word and he's stupid /affectionate, matthew, elijah, salem, rowan and probably a few campers as well

Sydney probably does have an epithet but just doesn't realise. everyone else is like "yeah he's inscribed" but once again no one knows the name

I might go further into detail about what their epithets are in another ask who knows

I honestly completely forgot about this show but it’s so good so if y’all haven’t watched it do that now

#camp here and there #ch&t #chnt #sydney sargent #elijah volkov #fennel marlborough #jedidiah martin #joshua macheath #matthew napoleon

[whichwayloreylo]

Menelaus Blue Morpho

A/n: Hi! Sooo I did this little drabble with Reylo and the WBW 👀 I want to dedicate this to my dear friend @craitqueen ! I know it's not as good as what you'll write but I wanted to start a little something for you 😝💖

Please enjoy and like or reblog if you read! 💕 | 1.7k words (All fluff with a splash of angst btw)

Consciousness ebbed and flowed through him. He felt his lungs absorbing the first few pants of air like a sponge. For a few moments, there had been only darkness. Pitch black, but the ethereal feeling of floating through the galaxy. Ben's eyes snapped open and he jerked himself up to a sitting position. The air was light here. It felt...pure. Much purer than he'd ever experienced on The Finalizer.

Taking in a deep breath, Ben surveyed his surroundings. What was this place? It was unlike anything he'd ever seen before. His dark brown eyes danced along crystal pathways that floated through the air. His gaze went down to his lap to see one of those pathways beneath him. Ben held his hands up in front of his face to examine them, front and back. Nothing. Clear skin. He patted his chest and abdomen. All seemed normal. How was that possible? He felt he had a distant memory of his body being broken. Followed by a notion of freedom unlike anything he'd ever felt before in his life.

Putting his hands down on either side of him, Ben pushed himself to stand. He turned in place, yet saw nothing but avenues stretching in the distance. "What a mystical place", he spoke to himself.

Rey sat stunned on Exegol, her fingers shaking in front of her eyes. "No", she whispered. "NO!" Bringing her palms to her face, Rey felt the tears rushing down her cheeks. Her mind raced as she suddenly screamed and clawed at the ground. "He has to be here. He can't just leave ", she sobbed. Feeling dirt and blood cake under her fingernails, Rey heaved a breath before she threw her head back in an agonizing howl. She rocked herself back and forth frantically. She finally found her family. She finally found her home. It was Ben.

Rey began thrashing violently as the emotions overwhelmed her. There were so many. Hope that bubbled to the surface, only to be stamped out. Love that bloomed in her chest, only to be ripped away. How could she go on like this? She'd never felt truly whole in her life until Ben came to her aid to face Palpatine. To know that it was him, really him, completed her in a way she hadn't thought possible. She wasn't even given the time to enjoy it. Now, it felt as though her other half was wrenched from her grasp.

After a considerable time, Rey's cries dulled to numbness. She sat with her forehead laid on her crossed arms atop her knees. Not moving. Just existing, if she could call it that. The whimpers of a porg burst her bubble of misery. Looking up, Rey's eyes found the porg crying in front of her. She sniffled and wiped her nose. "What's wrong, little guy? Are you heartbroken, too?" The porg bounced up and down before turning to walk away. Turning back to look at her, the porg flapped its wings and cawed. Rey got the distinct feeling that it wanted her to follow. She shakily stood, not bothering to brush any dirt off her clothes. There was blood on them anyway.

Slowly stepping toward the bird, she waited for it to scurry further and turn to her again. Rey rubbed her palms on her pants absentmindedly as she walked. She couldn't tell if they were wet from sweat or tears. She followed the porg into a dark chamber. She squinted her eyes. There was very little light, but there was a distinct glow on the other side of the space. Rey cautiously approached what could only be described as a floating vortex encapsulated in a triangle, inscribed with ancient Jedi text. She blinked her eyes to confirm that she wasn't seeing things.

Walking forward, Rey ghosted her hand over the entrance. It had to be a portal of some kind. She slowly let her fingers extend into the void and found that there was no solid barrier behind it. Her arm was being sucked in. Rey had no desire to fight it. Any dimension was better than this one at the present.

Tumbling out on the other side, Rey fell on what felt like glass. She pushed herself up on her hands and knees and looked around. She had clean clothes and her arm was healed. She didn't know if she was in some kind of dream. Pathways crossing over and under one another extended as far as she could see. The air was empty except for the twinkling of stars. It was like she was looking at the whole galaxy from here. Rey rose to stand as she took a few steps forward. Blue mist seemed to outline every step of her foot. "This is magical", Rey thought as she looked down at her feet and giggled. She needed a distraction from her harsh reality.

Wind whistled through her hair as she raised her face back up to look at the stars. She took slow, careful steps forward as she admired the beauty around her. It reminded her of the hole she fell into at Ahch-To. She hoped that this place wouldn't leave her feeling anymore desperation. Her heart couldn't break any further, if she had to guess. Rey halted her steps and enjoyed the quiet, peaceful atmosphere. Suddenly, she heard a whisper carried by the breeze.

"Rey."

Rey jolted her head in the direction that it came from. That was Ben's voice. She'd know it anywhere. Her eyes frantically searched for anyone else in this void.

"Ben?" she whispered desperately.

The soothing voice came again.

"Rey. Follow the sound of my voice."

Running forward, Rey didn't know what she'd find. And frankly, she didn't care whether or not it was a trap. She would always run toward Ben. She'd spent far too much time running away from him; she realized that now more than ever.

A person's form started to emerge down the path. Rey ran harder. She stopped a few feet from the dark, tall figure. Its back was turned to her, but Rey knew it was Ben. She could feel it. She just didn't know how he was here or how this was possible.

Rey cautiously spoke. "Ben? Is that you?"

Turning to her with a confused look, Ben smiled when his eyes landed on hers.

"Rey. You found me", he said as he opened his arms. She noticed that he was wearing the same clothes she'd last seen him in on Exegol.

Rushing forward into his arms, Rey locked her hands in a vice grip around his torso. The tears began streaming again. "Ben. I knew it was you. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry for everything."

Looping his arms around her, Ben kissed the crown of her head. "What're you apologizing for, sweetheart?"

Rey whimpered but kept her cheek against his chest. She didn't want him to disappear. "It should've been me."

Ben pushed her back slightly to loosen her grip. "Rey, look at me."

Rey's eyes bored into his as her bottom lip trembled. She would do anything to switch places with him.

He cupped her cheeks in his hands. "It was you. You gave your life for a noble cause. Something that I was never able to do, until I gave my life for you."

More tears blurred Rey's vision, but she shook them away.

"No, Ben. It isn't fair. I've never had anything in my life to truly call my own."

She locked eyes with him again.

"Until you. We were destined for each other. And you were taken from me. Killed from me. My other half."

Ben shushed her and brought her head back to his chest before she got herself too worked up.

"Shh, shh. Rey, do you hear that?"

Rey scrunched her brow in confusion. Hear what? And that's when she heard it. His heartbeat. Slow, but steady. Rey looked back up at Ben with wide eyes.

"Ben! Your heartbeat! Are...are you still alive? I watched you disappear." Her eyes searched his for answers.

"I'm not sure. What little I know of the World Between Worlds, I learned from Palpatine. He was trying to control it. To gain dominion over it."

Rey looked around again. "Is that what this place is? The World Between Worlds?"

Ben nodded. "You didn't know that?"

Rey shook her head. "No, I didn't. I've only heard of this place in stories. I didn't know it was real."

Ben let out a small chuckle. "Ah, my scavenger. You have much to learn."

Rey looked back at his face and smiled. She was so happy to see him again. She stood on her tippy-toes and kissed him, putting her hands on his cheeks. This was real. He was real. The revelation gave her a new burst of life.

Pulling back, Rey sighed contentedly. Ben looked down at her with a smile before he spoke. "Now we just need to figure out how to get out of here."

Rey's eyes blew wide again. "Get out of here?"

Ben quirked his eyebrows, confused by her question. "Yes, Rey. We need to get out of here. Back to our realm."

Rey looked down at his chest as she brought her hands back to it. "What if I don't want to?"

Ben scoffed. "What do you mean, Rey?"

She met his gaze again. "You exist in this realm. And it's just the two of us from what I can see. There's no pain. No war. We could stay here forever."

Ben paused, considering his answer. "Rey, I know it's painful. But we have to try. Whether I'm alive in our realm or not, they need you." He rubbed his thumb across her knuckles. Seeing the tumult in her eyes, he pressed his forehead to hers. She inhaled a sharp breath and her eyes were glued to his.

"I don't want to leave you", she choked out as her eyes welled up with tears again.

"Alive or not, you know that I'm always with you", Ben said as he closed his eyes.

Rey closed her eyes, too; basking in his presence and steadying her breath. She'd reached a resolution.

"I'll only go back if you try to come with me."

Opening his eyes, Ben smiled again. A big, toothy grin. "Well of course, sweetheart. I'll follow you anywhere."

Rey giggled with tears prickling her eyes. She kissed him again as a lone tear dropped down her face. She didn't know if it'd be the last time.

Parting from the kiss, Ben stood up straight and extended his hand to Rey.

"Let's give it a try."

Rey smiled and took his hand.

#reylo #reylo au #wbw #world between worlds #my stuff

[demoncryptspanties]

Dorne Chapter 4

A/N: Sorry for how long it took me to write this but I'm back to regular writing so we should be okay. Btw I graduated guys.

Pairings: Oberyn Martell x Female!Reader, Jaqen Hagar x Female!Reader, (Future!Ellaria Sand x Female!reader, Future!Sandor Clegane x female!Reader, Future!Tywin Lannister x Female!Reader)

Warnings: Bad spelling, violence, bad grammar, smut.

Word Count: 6880

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Look at the moon

Her muscles hurt by the time she got home; she could have stayed in bed for days if her family had let her, but she had lessons and responsibilities. There is always something to do and somewhere to go. She was not fortunate to have her brother's company until the night she returned. She was reading a book in the corner of her chair where Jaqen had been. It waswas in Dothraki, but the story was disjointed in translation; she had intended to get it in Dothraki, but it was always tough with a language that was not often written.

"Sister, I have some news." He sat next to her before she could finish the page she was on, beaming even more than he had previously.

“She’s not pregnant, is she?” 

He scoffed and made himself comfortable, “would that be so bad?”

“No, but it would be rather soon.” She set the book down next to her, the name still retaining the vivid bronze it was inscribed with. Oran frowned at the book and returned his gaze to his sister.

“I set up a day, next week, for the two of you to talk.”

"That's very kind of you." She smiled and nodded slowly, waiting for him to say more. He scowled, mistaking her tone for irritation.

“It’s just tea, and you can do what you want after.” He was gesticulating and wasn’t quite able to meet her eye. 

She put a hand on his arm to stop him from moving and looked him in the eye, “I look forward to it.”

“I want you to like her.” His voice was small. 

"I do," she said as she grabbed his hand in hers and sat back into the side of the chair.

"No, I really want you to like her.  I value your opinion and remember seeing you with Jaqen, Oberyn, and that foreign priestess a few suns ago. I want to love like you do, and you always make sure that when things get serious, we all meet them, get along, and that we are sincerely glad for you. All I want to do is the same."

“I will get to know her properly and I will love her because you do and that in itself is enough.” She gestured for him to hug her, and he did, resting a head on her shoulder. 

“Thank you.”

She pulled away suddenly and ran around the room to the end of the bed, picking up a box. “Now want me to show you the sword that Oberyn had made, he called it a scimitar.”

She opened it and showed him, then handed it to him to move around. He felt its weight and motioned for her to move away before standing up to swing it about. The weight for him was off, just a little too light, yet his motions were similar to hers, and his wrinkled expression melted into a relaxed smile. He eventually scrutinised it thoroughly before returning it to her and placing it back in the box.

“It looks familiar.”

“Does it?” He was running his finger down the hilt before an idea came to him.

“Hold on.” He left the room as quickly as he had come, and she heard the loud sounds of his footsteps going into her father’s room. 

He had shouted something she couldn’t hear through the walls and then came bounding back, a book in his hand and a triumphant face. “I think it's similar to what they use in the Summer Isles.”

“It’s a big place, they can’t all use the same thing.” She moved to sit on the bed instead.

“That’s not what I’m saying,” He opened up the book sifting through the pages lightly and kneeled over the bed. “Here look, it’s a curved blade. Not like the long swords we have here.”

“Where’s that from.” She peered over him at the paper though at the angle the words looked jumbled. 

“I’m not sure, I don’t recognise the language.”

He twisted the book to face her, letting her try and decipher it but she just looked over at it and shook her head. “Neither do I, call father.”

He bolted into one of the other rooms as if there was some sort of emergency. He returned a moment later, at a leisurely pace, waiting for his father to enter with another book in his hand. He motioned to the scimitar and rolled it over in his palms to check the design.

“The blacksmith who made this is very skilled.”

“It’s from Oberyn, of course, they were.” He frowned at that but placed it back in the box carefully and flipped through the book in his hand. 

He splayed the book out, displaying the page with the Dothraki swords on it. “I know this is not the same because they wield double swords, but it sort of looks like them right.”

“Sort of. I guess.” She studied the drawing again and ran a finger over the silver of the blade.

“It seems to be a new weapon, though I don’t know why he would be giving these to you when you’re getting married.” Her father said the last bit under his breath, but Y/N just rolled her eyes preparing herself to once again have this little conversation. 

“I am not yet and is he not allowed to gift me whenever the desire strikes him. Do I not do the same.” She tried her best to not whine or raise her voice.

He looked down at his daughter, eyes softening at her hard stare. She sighed deeply and tilted her head, “What does one gift a prince who has everything?” He said softly. 

“My relationship with him won’t change after I marry. I’ve already had that discussion, you taught me better than to keep secrets from people I love. He already has me father, I have given him everything and I will continue to until the day I die.” 

"By the grace of the God's" "You two are so dramatic, I can't tell who got it from whom." His words caused her to quietly laugh and relax in her seat. "So you've made the decision to marry?" He inquired, sitting next to the girl and gazing her in the eyes with a knowing smile.

"I haven't said anything like that. You must first speak with him. Well, he needs to speak with you. He has not yet spoken with me. We had an interesting encounter, and I'm not sure if it altered anything for him."

He had to stop himself from rolling his eyes, instead, he cradled the girl kissing the crown of her head. “Dearest, there is not a person alive who would not have you if they could. I am certain this has not changed anything.”

"Thank you, father," she said as she clasped his hand and rose to her feet, but he stopped her.

“The prince, he has yet to have a son, though.”

"They both respect each other passionately, look at the sword," she groaned, turning to face him. " The hilt bears Jaqen's sigil. If I ever find myself with a child, I will simply have a conversation with them. Oberyn doesn't care if his children are male or female, and I doubt his feelings will change. He adores and would raise his children equally. Do you have no faith in me, Father? I'll just take care of it when the situation arises."

He stood up and headed towards the door, squeezing her hand once more. Her assurances seemed to be enough. "I only have faith in you, child," he said once he was at the doorway. "After all, I raised you."

Oran had chosen a tea parlour she had never visited before for her date with Ayenna the following week. The floor cushions, like the majority of the other décor, were a deep blue. The cups appeared to be fully green, and the bulk of the fabrics had green highlights. Ayenna entered the modest shop through the doorway and sat across from the woman. She was dressed in a soft yellow gown and had her hair loose over her shoulders. She appeared much more at ease, which was most likely due to the absence of anxiety that every first meeting carried.

“Hello Ayenna, it is wonderful to see you.”

Oran has been talking about our meeting for a full week now. I believe he is eager to ensure that you like me." She fiddled with a bit of red string while smiling down into her hands.

"He values my input, but he doesn't need to be concerned since I already do." Do you know why he chose this place? I'm not sure how he knows it exists." She motioned to a woman behind Ayenna, who rushed off to bring another cup and a honey-filled glass bowl.

"On our first official date, we passed by this area. He'd gotten himself into some sort of trouble, and instead of telling them who he was, he took my hand and went down odd pathways to get away." Ayenna's grin was gentle, and she couldn't quite meet the other woman's eyes. Much like Y/N couldn't while recalling specific memories of Jaqen and Oberyn.

Y/N laughed airily to herself, “that sounds like him. He likes adventure and trouble. He’s fortunate that we are who we are for that exact reason.”

"I absolutely adore that about him. Every day, he strives to feel alive and to make others feel the same way. My happiness is dependent on his happiness. "I've never seen such pure joy in someone."

“I have never heard someone talk so poetically about my brother before.” She tilted her head to the side, with a sly smile.

“It is him that brings it out of me. He does it as well, I asked him about it once. He says the prince talks to you like that.” Ayenna looked down at her hands, trying her best to hide the bright smile she had. 

“Ah, those two are as thick as thieves sometimes. The prince does love to be dramatic.”

"I am aware; I recall him planning your birthday a few suns back." The lady found the subject of her birthday to be amusing. Oberyn had failed to consult her on anything, and Doran seemed concerned every time she mentioned it. While large gatherings with wine, food, and music were something the prince adored, it made the lady feel slightly uncomfortable to be the centre of attention. People brought her gifts while she barely knew them. She ended up giving most of them away, discreetly, to servants and merchants.

“I never should have let him do that and just asked Doran to take over, but he insisted and how could I deny him.”

“Why? His displays are so grandiose because he wants to express how much he adores you, no?" Ayenna cocked her head to the side, perplexed. The inequalities in their status that Lady Phassirah worked so hard to conceal became obvious.

“Yes. But he has never been successful in this endeavour, and neither have I. Our love is too great to be shown by festivities, words, or presents. They are never sufficient." The lady hid her smile in the cup of tea. 

“Sometimes I feel that way about Oran. In that, I am not enough. He deserves so much.”

“He deserves someone who he has chosen and who loves him. Is that not you?”

"Yes, but consider who I am. Who am I? Your lover is the prince." Her eyes were slightly teary. The lady felt compelled to console her; how could this woman be hiding something cruel when she seemed to care so much about her brother?

"Your name is Ayenna, and you are a gorgeous, educated, and compassionate woman who makes incredible bread and pastries.  The prince would be a man without his birth, and I would be a woman without mine. Nothing else matters except that we are two people in love. Not your wealth, your social standing, or your connections. You are plenty.

“I need to tell you something.” She suddenly became very serious, pushing her tea to the side of the table and leaning forward into the lady, as if she were about to reveal a secret.

“I asked Oran whether you were pregnant, I can’t believe that he lied to me.”

“No that’s not it.” Ayenna appeared to be preparing to say something, so the lady waited calmly, allowing her to gather her thoughts.

“Lady Phassirah,” a voice said behind her. She looked up to see one of her guards who she had asked to make scarce with a letter. 

“Yes.”

“Lady Aneera sent this from your home, saying you will likely want to see it.” The man handed her the letter. The wax seal was white, round, and had the unmistakable engravings of a spiralled snake. 

She seized the letter harsher than planned but instantly apologised. The guard left the shop with a gentle bow of his head. The lady opened the seal with the little dagger connected to her hip, displaying Jaqen's exquisite and delicate calligraphy.

“I do apologise Ayenna, but I would really love to read this letter and I fear I won’t be able to concentrate until I do. Perhaps we can continue this another time.”

“Of course, my lady, please do what you need to.” The lady got up, taking a few coins out of her purse and leaving them on the table. She smiled at Ayenna before she turned to leave, gesturing for one of the guards to get her horse. 

She rushed home, raced to her room, and sat on the balcony with a smile. She was nearly bouncing, much like she used to when Oberyn sent her letters about his trips and exploits. Doran would even send one or two on something intriguing he'd learned while away.

She traced the broken seal and opened the letter again. 

My Lady, 

I know by the time this letter reaches you, I will be soon back, but I felt a sense of calm at the prospect of writing words only meant for your eyes. I can envision you now, watching the sunset from the balcony. I hope you’re thinking of me when you look towards the sun, or in the evenings when you try to see what is beyond the stars. I think of you here, through the way a woman’s dress moves, a piece of jewellery that seems too flawless to truly exist, in the stories I read and hear, and in the books with worn spines. 

Here is beautiful, it is home, and I have decided that I will never come back here without you again. I stepped off the boat and imagined what you would say to me, all the places and things I wanted to show you. I see you now, wandering through alleyways, racing your horse against your brothers, and watching the sunset at the docks with me. I can't now imagine stepping onto the dirt floors without you.

While it may be dramatic and far too soon, I miss you terribly, utterly, and completely. It's as if I'm missing a piece of myself, and without you, I'm hollow. I'm missing your laugh and the way you gaze up at me. I'm empty without your taunting and mysticism. It's the things I miss and the things I remember fondly that make me realise we're destined to be together.

I will look at the moon and remember that it is one less night I have to be without you, and I’ll look at the magnificence that is the setting sun and think that it doesn’t hold a candle to you. 

May I have the honour of laying my eyes upon you soon, 

Your Jaqen 

The lady couldn’t help the smile that filled her face. She read the last two lines over and over again, your Jaqen. The thought of him being hers made her fantasise about the life they would have together. How they planned to travel and marry. The foods they'd try, as well as the things he'd show her. She imagined his face in front of her during their wedding, the way his eyes would sparkle in the sunlight and glisten slightly with tears at how she looked. She saw herself looking past him at Oberyn and hearing him applaud and laugh with joy. Aneera's knowing smile came to mind as she pictured Oran lifting and spinning her in the sunshine. The idea of a perfect day with him filled her with a type of euphoria she had never known before.

She retraced the broken seal before unlocking the chest at the foot of her bed and laying the letter on top of one of her heavier clothes. Oran burst into the room with a smile at that exact moment.

“One of the servants told me you were back.”

“Oh yes. I’m sorry I came back early, Jaqen sent me a letter and I simply could not concentrate.” She gave him an apologetic smile, but he did not seem to notice and instead sat on the chair nearest to the bookshelf.

“That is fine. So do you like her?”

Y/N took a seat near him and gave herself a light hum, “I have always liked her Oran.”

“Yes, but you know what I mean.” His eyes were bright in a way she hadn’t seen for a long time. 

“She truly is an incredible girl. I mean that completely. She is calm and pleasant, and I am confident she would be an excellent wife and addition to this family."

Oran breathed a sigh of relief and bent over his own legs to catch his breath. "I intend to marry her," he said as he sat up gently, leaning into his sister, his carefree and cheerful look turning serious yet hopeful.

“I thought so.” Y/N only nodded slowly and picked up a goblet delicately from the table in front of her, filling it with wine and taking a small sip.

Oran took her moment of silence as a question and immediately attempted to explain himself. “If something goes wrong, I can always separate from her. I will keep the engagement long. I won’t marry before you.”

"You may do so if you wish. I'm not holding you back in any way." Y/N spoke carefully, looking him in the eyes, attempting to convey her confidence in his judgments.

“I want her to be completely mine and me entirely hers. The time of the engagement will mean that we can get to know each other better.”

“I support your every decision, Oran. Though have you spoken to Aneera?”

Oran let out an exaggerated sigh after a moment of silence, “I’ve been putting it off. I hope she hasn’t figured out what Ayenna is hiding. I wish to live in bliss a little longer.”

"I can't imagine it's anything too terrible.  The girl is far too nice. Perhaps it's a child from a former lover or something along those lines."

“That would be the best result.”

“It would.”

“So my sister, you are truly okay with this?” He reached out and grabbed both her hands, pulling them to him.

The lady's hold was firm, and she curled her right hand upwards, interlocking their thumbs as if they were preparing to engage in an arm wrestle. "Again, Oran, you are my brother, I have taught you everything I know, and I love you more than words can express.  I trust every decision you make since I know you have carefully considered them."

Oran took their clasped hands and raised them to his brow for a second before quickly standing up, smiling at his sister and exiting the room. Y/N smiled as she shook her head and took a book from the bookcase. She sat on the balcony reading the words in the late afternoon sun, watching it set and wondering if he was staring at the pink and orange hues and thinking of her, even though the answer was obvious.

Time passed with no noteworthy events. Oran had yet to reveal his wedding intentions, but she assumed he would wait until she was officially engaged first out of respect. Of course, the lady spoke with him, but he insisted on doing what was right in his own time.

The house was in disarray as Jaqen was due to return. The lady persuaded her father that a large celebration was unnecessary because Jaqen would not enjoy it, and while the number of people invited decreased dramatically, the extravagant décor and food did not. To ensure that everything was completed on time, preparations had to be finished the day before the celebration, and thus Y/N began to curse herself the instant Oberyn arrived through her front door.

“Not that I do not love to see your face, but today is not the best day for us to go on an adventure.”

She had glanced at him, but not close enough to see the expression on his face. “I wish to instead just have a private conversation.”

"I know how your private discussions ended, Oberyn, and I don't think that is the best idea today." She could hear a soft laugh behind her as she arranged many different flowers on the surface in front of her, attempting to find the ideal colour combination.

“I really need to talk to you, my flower, just for a minute.”

"Please tell me which of these pairings seems better. Maybe I should stick to all white. Is that alright, or does it seem too formal? Should I use the orange to add some colour?"

Unphased by her change of topic, Oberyn wrapped his arms around her waist, looking over her shoulder at the various flowers. “Use the white and light yellow as a base and then have orange accents.”

She nodded and waved to one of the maids, instructing them to do just that. Oberyn leaned into the lady's hair, taking a deep breath, before planting gentle kisses on the space not covered by fabric along her shoulder. "You know I can't resist you, Oberyn, so please let me finish."

He let out a hum and reluctantly let her go, taking a step back to give her space. 

"Oberyn, we can have dinner tonight if I finish everything I need to do."

"All right," he said, tilting his head and looking down at her. "Please let me stay."

"Of course, I'd never deny you. Just promise to be helpful and refrain from distracting me too much." She now turned to face him. He approached her, making her lean into the surface. For a brief moment, the smirk on his face appeared almost cruel to her, and she regretted allowing him to stay.

“By the old Gods and the new, how can I ever promise that. You find me a distraction by just existing.”

The lightness of his words didn't seem to match his smirk, but she responded with a hearty laugh. "I truly do love you, Oberyn Martell," she said softly as she kissed him on the cheek.

"Y/N Phassirah, you already know my heart belongs to you." They could have stayed like this forever, but someone tripped on the other side of the room, jolting her back to reality.

"Right, now that the flowers have been finalised, I need to refine the food and then figure out the seating."

"Isn't this your father's area of expertise?" Oberyn raised an eyebrow at her and smiled down at her.

"Yes, but I can't find him or Oran, and Aneera doesn't seem to want to be at our house for once." She suspected it was Aneera's fault that everyone seemed to be absent for the day.

Oberyn stopped the lady, holding her face in his arms and looking straight into her eyes. “You’re nervous. Why?”

“How can I not be, I haven’t seen him in quite a few moons, I want it to be perfect.” There was a certain vulnerability in her frown that he wasn't expecting, but his smile became reassuring.

He tucked her hair behind her ear and gave her a soft kiss. “You’re perfect and that is more than enough.”

“That is very kind of you to say, my love, and yet today, in this moment, I’m not entirely sure I feel like that.”

"It's just nerves, my flower." You're as beautiful as the setting sun. The universe will not allow him to think of you otherwise." She was almost moved to tears by his kind words, and she was surprised she didn't cry given the way he was looking at her.

“Is that how you think of me, truly that I’m perfect?”

“Yes, truly, utterly, and completely. You are my life partner, more beautiful than any woman alive or dead, smarter than even the oldest scholars and wiser than even Aneera.” She laughed at the mention of Aneera.

“You flatter me too much, Oberyn Martell. Though I appreciate how I can see that you truly believe that.”

He pulled her into a hug, speaking into her hair, “and you deserve to truly believe that too. I will do everything in my power to ensure that you do.”

After their conversation, the evening flew by, and she almost forgot why Oberyn was there in the first place. But his actions reminded her that he did, in fact, have some news to share with her. In that way, he was predictable. Though he was always attached to her, when he was worried about something, his easy nature became more scattered and his nerves became more visible.

She chose to eat dinner in the palace, instructing one of his servants to bring the food and wine into his chambers, where she sat on a cushion next to one of the low tables. He sat across from her, picking at his food.

“Oberyn, you are acting like a child. Please just tell me what is wrong.”

He put his fork down and sighed deeply in response. “I was thinking instead, why don’t we wait until Jaqen is back so that your emotions are, you know.”

“No Oberyn, I don’t know.” She looked up at him, holding his gaze. 

"Okay, just please.”

“Please what?”

He muttered something under his breath, but she made no sound to indicate she was aware of it. He sighed again after a minute of silence. "Another child will be born. I found out yesterday."

“Oh, who is the lucky mother?” The lady immediately picked up her goblet with raised eyebrows and continued with her meal.

“You are not upset.”

“Children are blessings, Oberyn. You are the one who told me that.” 

He tilted his head to the side and nodded gently. His demeanour changed almost immediately, and he leant back in his chair. “Yes, but I thought you might be upset that me and you have not had a child yet.”

“While we have been careful, and I am surprised that we have not yet, it is not a race. The Gods gave us these children for a reason, and while I am not their mother, they are still my children.”

“You are truly a woman too good for me.” She was unable to hide the smile in her drink. 

“Too good for the prince of Dorne. I’m not entirely sure that’s possible.” He let out a hearty laugh and took her free hand across the table. 

“And yet here we are.”

He took her hands to his lips and only pulled harder when she tried to pull away in slight embarrassment. “Do you have a feeling about the gender?”

He knew she was trying to change the subject but indulged her anyway. “Should I not be asking you that?” She raised an eyebrow and tipped her head to the right. “A girl.”

“Again.”

“Would that be so bad?” he almost whined. 

“Of course not. I am just becoming convinced that you are only capable of producing girls.” She left the food that was left and took her goblet of wine, opening the large glass doors on his balcony. There was a long seat with an abundance of pillows with light orange netting around it. 

“Well, I suppose on the day I die, we will know.” He said while following her, he instead took his plate with him and handed her his goblet so he could make himself comfortable. He put the plate on the small table and sat on the opposite side of the seat, letting Y/N curl up in the corner closest to the railing. 

“The mother?”

“A septa,” he said slowly,

She frowned and grumbled something under her breath before locking her eyes with him. “Was I?”

“No, she’s from the reach.” 

She hummed and smiled slightly, wondering about the type of woman that held his affection when she was not around. “Are you going to send the child to the water gardens?”

“Yes, I think that would be best.”

“Nymeria would like that, no?” Nymeria, named after her father, had looks that were sure to rival the lady herself when she came of age. Cheeky and deadly but a lady no less. Someone had once referred to her as Lady Nym after an incident in her infancy, and the name stuck. 

“I think it’s time we go and see them.”

“Hmm, I’m sure Obara has a lot of new skills she wishes to practice with you. Our little sand snakes, who are not so little anymore,” They both smiled at each other.

“We should bring her back to the palace. What better bodyguard to have than Obara with a spear in her hand? " Y/N let out a hearty laugh at the thought of the 10-year-old girl with such a serious face escorting her around the palace.

“I am certain she’ll love that.” The two shared another smile, and Y/N leaned further into her goblet, putting her legs out so that her feet lay on Oberyn. 

He pulled her dress up just enough so that he could caress her calf with his free hand. The lady leaned back into the pillows behind her, bathing in the luxury of such expensive materials. 

“I truly think these pillows would feel so much better on my bare skin.”

“Then please, my dove, by all means, allow yourself that luxury.”

She set the now-empty goblet down on the ground and began untying the strings that held her dress together. The white beige fabric fell to her ankles, giving the impression that she was standing on sand. Her underclothes were short and thin, and the cool evening breeze revealed her nipples beneath the cloth. She sat back down in her bed of pillows, relishing the hungry look in his eyes.

"Truly, you are a queen to behold.”

“A queen perfect enough for this prince?”

“A goddess perfect enough to rival all.” She giggled at his sweet words and crawled onto him. He slowly put his own goblet down along with the plate of long forgotten food. 

He put a hand under her chin, slowly guiding her to him. He whispered something but she didn’t catch it and instead hummed before he pulled her into a slow kiss. The feeling was lazy and familiar, his movements practised and steady but still honey sweet. He pushed her underclothes so that they were sitting just above her hips, her left thigh completely on display. His left hand was moving from her cheek to her hair to the back of her neck while his right hand sat on her hip, thumb tracing small circles into the front of her pelvis. 

“I truly do love you, my Lady of Dorne, the true Dornish beauty.” She stopped the movements of his hands and pulled them, so they were both in front of her.

“I love you more than life itself, my dear Dornish prince.” This time, she pulled him into a slow kiss, their movements languid with the speed of those who had all the time in the world.

Despite that, the lady was aware that her prince was not a patient man and let her hands travel downwards, across his chest and then lower. His hands rested on his thighs, and she looked up at him, asking with her eyes. 

“My lady, I have given you news that I thought you would not be happy about. Let me pleasure you first.”

“Today is a celebration for you to become a father once more. Today, you will allow me to treat you as your title deserves. I am yours to use as you please, but first I wish to please you. Allow me that.”

“As you wish, my lady.”

She wasted no time in pulling him out of the tan trousers he wore. He was impressive. She had seen this view more times than she could count, and yet he still amazed her. He was already semi-hard so she pumped him a few times, letting out a small moan and looking up into his eyes. His pupils were blown, his eyes practically black. The vision of him left her breath shaky, and she resolved to focus on the task at hand before she became too engrossed by him. 

The minute her mouth met his tip, he let out a quiet groan, shifting slightly in his seat. She glanced up at him and noticed the grip he had on the side of the couch and smirked at herself. She gave him a few kitten licks while trying to decide how she should play this, but at his already frustrated groan, she decided to be kind. 

Relaxing her throat, she took as much of him in as she could handle. Immediately, his right hand went to her hair, but seemingly remembering himself, he relaxed and his grip softened. She bobbed up and down, swirling her tongue around his tip at a steady pace, though this only lasted a moment. She knew exactly what he liked, exactly what would make him finish the quickest, so she added her right hand to the base of his cock, twisting and moving up and down. 

She leaned back, putting her weight into her legs so she could move her left hand, which was on his thigh, to cradle his balls. Drool was dripping down her chin as she sped up, but instead of letting it drip onto the red fabric, she wiped it with her left hand to coat his balls in spit. 

Oberyn was never shy about pleasure, and she was confident that anyone in the corridor or a room or two over could hear him. Though not shy it was rare that anything that was not ‘my beautiful girl’ or ‘princess’ left his mouth. She once again looked up to meet his eyes, but they were closed, so she hummed with her mouth still around him. He didn’t seem to hear that either, so she sucked one final time and lifted her head off of him, still pumping him with her hand. His eyes snapped open at the change of sensation, and he cocked his head to the side. 

“My love, please.”

“My prince, I wish only for you to watch me. There is no need to beg.”

He chuckled lightly at her words, clearly trying to maintain a sense of self-control. “My eyes are tied to you, though that may mean that we will need a break before our next session."

Instead of saying anything, she smiled widely at him and once again led his cock down her throat. She knew exactly how he would like to see her, so instead of using her hand, she pushed herself down so her lips met his base. He groaned loudly, and once again a hand tightened on the back of her head. She gagged slightly trying to pull up after a moment, but he kept her there for a few extra seconds. The moment he let go, she pulled herself off him and, wasting no time, slid one of his balls into her mouth, pumping him with her right hand. 

She returned her attention to his cock after both of his balls had been thoroughly coated with liquid. Deep-throating him and bobbing up and down. She paused to change the rhythm, speeding up, meaning she once again had to twist her hand in the places she couldn't reach. She glanced up at him, and just as she asked, his eyes were fixed on her. The look of concentration was heavy on his face. The sound he was making made the lady drip onto the fabric of the couch. 

She knew every sound he made better than her own, so when his pitch changed, she knew to quicken her pace, fondling his balls in her left hand. She anticipated the movement of his hand on the couch and braced herself for the pressure, which met the back of her head and pushed her down until she gagged. Her throat was coated with warm and salty spurts of his release. She swallowed around his cock and pulled herself free as soon as his grip relaxed, licking her lips as she did so.

Before either could say anything, he pulled her to him, into a searing kiss, tasting himself on her tongue and lips. He let out a hum of satisfaction as he pulled away, and his eyes looked tired under the evening light. 

“My love, you must be getting old. You look tired.”

“The satisfaction you bring me is unmatched. It is natural  to be tired after being pleasured by a goddess.”

“You flatter me too much, Oberyn.”

“It is one of my greatest joys.” She giggled, curling up to his naked form, her underclothes leaving little to the imagination. He relished the feeling of her nipples against his skin and allowed himself to completely relax under her embrace. 

They stayed like that, watching the sun completely set outside the Dornish castle. His thumb was tracing circles on her hip, and the slight breeze was beyond calming. Unintentionally, Oberyn fell asleep, and though not looking at him, the deep breathing and soft snores made it obvious. She tried not to disturb him, pulling herself carefully out of his embrace and taking a blanket from on top of the chest at the end of his bed. She took in their goblets and his plate and then curled back up into him, letting him tighten his hold and adjusting the thin blanket over the both of them. 

She woke up to the rising sun tickling her face. She liked sleeping outside. The natural awakening made her want to stay out there forever. She looked behind her at Oberyn, who was still softly snoring. He looked so relaxed and calm like this, though with her he usually did, and yet she still noticed that the tightness in his face that was probably due to his princely duties had disappeared. 

She untangled from him, slowly gathering her dress and putting it on. She resolved to leave early so that she could bathe before Jaqen showed up. As she slipped on her shoes, she noticed a movement behind her, turning to see Oberyn leaning on the balcony doorway with a sleepy smile on his face. 

“I truly wish I could wake up to you like this every morning forever.”

“Marry me then.”

“If I didn’t think there was a bigger purpose for you, I would have insisted the minute I walked back onto the shores of Dorne.” He slowly walked over to her, pulling her into a soft kiss. They whispered ‘I love yous" to each other, and she gathered anything else she had left, including a handful of grapes, and left the room, leaving him still in the doorway with a small wave and a smile. 

Stationed outside the door was Essino once again. He put his head up as soon as the door opened and nodded at her. 

“I have been told to pass on the message that a Jaqen has returned.”

“He’s already here?” She was almost bounding with happiness. Her steps became quicker, and it took a moment for Essino to once again step in time with her. 

"Yes, some time ago, I believe. He is now at one of his brothels, doing the rounds I suppose. "

She hummed to herself and then let out a small cough as though clearing her throat. “Did he come to the house when I was not there?”

“To my knowledge, no.” Perhaps it was slightly ridiculous, but the idea that he didn't walk off the ship to immediately meet her made her deflate.

Even though he wasn't looking at her directly, Essino noticed and tried to comfort her. "My lady, I'm sure he just had an urgent business to attend to and didn't want to disturb you in the early morning."

She hummed in response but chose not to continue the conversation, so she remained silent. He interpreted this as her desire to be alone with her thoughts and chose not to change the subject. She mounted her horse outside the palace and waved to Essino before riding slowly back to her home.

#imagine #sandor clegane x reader #dorne #oberyn martell x reader #oberyn martell imagine #game of thrones x reader #oberyn x reader #game of thrones imagine

[the-chosen-half-of-one]

I sent you an ask about BtVS forever ago, and I can't find it again, so I can't respond to more parts, but I agree with what you said about Dawn. Yeah, she was kind of annoying and a little cringey, but she was literally a teenage girl who went through so much loss and trauma in such a short timeframe that it's completely understandable why she would be a bit dramatic and react severely to seemingly minor offenses. I get why people don't like her, but when I was a kid, I thought she was interesting and relatable

Also, I *love* talking about Buffy and have very few people with whom I can fluently nerd out, so I'm always down for Buffyverse ramblings

Btw, have you watched Angel? Who was your favorite character? Personally, I love Fred

Friend! Friend who sent me Buffy ask, yes I remember that ask and I remember dissing Connor over Dawn 😆 Dawn is a delight compared to him, though it’s not Connor’s fault either what happened with him *still grumbles about it*. But yeah exactly, she gets on your nerves sometimes but I mean look at her circumstances, you gotta empathize. The ask is probably searchable on my blog if you type #buffy ask but my internet is being mean right now.

I have watched Angel, *grumbles vaguely about Connor again*, or well most of it, I did the unhinged watching it side by side disc switching episode to episode by air date alongside my Buffy watch, though I drew it out indefinitely so while I finished Buffy in 2018, and started s5 Angel right after..., I uh have yet to finish like the last 5 or so episodes just because I scared myself out of finishing the Buffyverse entirely because what would I do then?? *sobs* 😭 and then I just never had the stars align yet, but it’s gonna get finished, it is! It has its strong suits and its fun and charm and uniqueness from Buffy. Though the fact that that one certain arc of season 4 was quite possibly the worst thing to ever air on television did kind of contribute to the lost steam, I liked the Jasmine storyline minus the whole Cordelia and Connor aspects 😭 s5 meanwhile was certainly looking up but I have bad adhd and I—I left it on, well, A Hole in the World and you know what happens at the end of that one. 😭😭😭 ouch.

Anyway, Angel, my favourite character was Doyle and I will still never forgive them, but seeing as he’s only in the 1st 9 episodes, my favourite for the rest of the series was Lorne, I even had Lorne as my phone wallpaper for a hot minute years upon years ago, I miss him. Calling Angel pastries, making Angel sing Manilow, that fashion sense, and his wisdom, iconic <3 I do like different aspects of each of the characters in Angel though I do grieve how the show handled their storylines or unfortunate endings 😭

And please drop in and talk to me about the buffyverse anytime! Send me a message if you like, too, I love talking about Buffy, though my mind is currently fixated on the one other thing in almost 8 years that has suddenly made me feel the same way Buffy did, like I said before, Buffy’s inscribed on my soul.

#btvs #ask

[wariocompany]

sorry for being weird in your inbox but "MON OBELIX" has been inscribed in my brain since i was like 7 because my grandpa had a few astérix comics when i was young and i read it and astérix and the cauldron was terrible to me because right then i realized i never wanted anything bad to happen to those lil dudes that i love. also my child brain i didnt understand that the actor person was gonna be thrown to the lions and it was SO CONFUSING until i reread it at like age 18. anyways

also #2 im argentinian so to me its always going to be MI OBELIX. apologies for low quality image

love your blog btw

NO NO I GET IT! Le Chaudron is the only time besides La Galère d'Obélix where Astérix is genuinely lost. Normally he's very on top of thing, but in this one he struggles a great deal and His Obélix (🤨) is the only thing keeping him afloat. I forget that can be distressing for kids!

#hi de ho

[hbreference]

Phillips Exeter Academy Library, Louis Kahn, 1972, New Hampshire, USA.

Photography by @xavierdejaureguiberry, Larry Speck, & others.

More midcentury American greatness. Alone the exterior looks stark and imposing, but seen next to the old Georgian buildings on campus it works.

So much to say. Cruciform plan inscribed in a square, corners chamfered then stairs at those corners with a landing right where the geometries kiss. The circular stair in plan mimics the massive circular openings in section. Push the reading room to the naturally lit edges of the building. Keep the massive atrium free for exhibition space and exhibitionist study-ers. Brings the books between those two areas away from the harshest natural light. THAT MFING CROSS BRACING ON THE CEILING ITS LIKE 4M DEEP.

Also the program organization is crazy functional. We had similar reading carrels at my high school and they were amazing for focus.

Openings in the atrium reveal the bookcases beyond, inviting you in. Warm wood railings behind concrete is like a jewelry box.

‘The room is the beginning of architecture. A plan is a society of rooms. The light that enters the room should be the light of that room itself’ Kahn gets that the room with no name is the most important, useful, flexible, and delightful aspect of the building. And it doesn't "do" anything. In the section, it's just labeled Central Space, and in any program diagram, it WOULD NOT EXIST.

This guy evidently appreciates the romance of reading and the mystique of libraries. He has a million quotes about this but liked to talk about looking at infinity and looking up - I think he succeeded.

That brick is load-bearing btw.

#large #brick #concrete #wood #1970 #northamerica #USA #educational