#Oberyn Martell Lives

[ajpikeisamenace]

Terms & Conditions Apply - Chapter One

Summary: A "Fifty Shades of Grey" type of take on Oberyn Martell. After he buys tech firm Logistica for its assets, the wealthy, powerful and brilliant Oscar Martin takes interest in Cara Kavanaugh, the programmer whose code he wants to use. Although she feels physical attraction to to Oscar, his reputation for being a playboy, a womanizer, and a bit of a snake prevent her from forming any attachment to her new boss. Despite his flirtations, she resists him for months until one night the tension and chemistry between them boils over and the two find themselves unable to keep their hands off each other. Trying not to fall for him, Cara discovers Oscar has more dark things looming in his past, including a dangerous rivalry with fellow tech magnate, Tyson LaGrieve; a wife that died under strange circumstances, and other secrets Cara can't imagine.

Notes: This reimagines Oberyn in a realworld setting, as a powerful tech mogul. When I started writing this, I wanted to explore the dom/sub and BDSM aspects of 50 shades but I chickened out, so it's really just a spicy romance with very light dom/sub under tones. The FMC is autistic coded.

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x OFMC

Warnings: Extreme dipictions of violence, sex and sexual activities, alcohol use, and discussions of violence, sexual violence, murder, etc. Please read responsibly.

Chapter One: The Prince and The Programmer

Oscar Martin .  The world knew the name.  He was synonymous with innovation and technology, but he was just as synonymous with words like affair and scandal. And he was standing less than 20 feet from me.   I watched as he moved through the office.  His company, MarTech, had just purchased the company I worked for, Logistica. The news had broken a few days before, but now it was official. Logistica was a small analytics and algorithm development firm that had some piece of tech or information he wanted.  That was how he did business; he wanted something, he bought it.  The tech and financial papers called him the Prince of Tech , due to his youth and good looks, but he had a reputation for being a viper in the boardroom… and in the bedroom, if the tabloids were to be believed.

He was handsome; tall and slender, about 38 or so, with dark hair, and a neatly trimmed beard and mustache.  He moved through the office gracefully, looking around at everything with curious brown eyes.  Those eyes swept over my team in our cubicles, barely registering us as people.  To the likes of him, I suppose we weren’t.  We were peasants.  Cogs in the machine. Not worth bothering with.

But then he paused, and his gaze settled on me. 

I looked away, embarrassed.  But when I looked back, he was smiling at me.  It was a small smile of amusement, but it was definitely there.  He gave me a small wink, so tiny and fast I wasn’t sure if I saw it at all.

Then he turned and followed the group into the conference room. My face felt hot, and I realized I was probably blushing.

“Cara, are you okay?” Lisa Sonnet, my cubemate and colleague asked as she returned from the bathroom.

“Yeah, just feeling a little warm all of the sudden.” I said softly.  Lisa glanced through the glass wall into the conference room at Oscar Martin.

“I can see why, that man is… Oof .”  She said, sitting back down next to me.  “Too bad he only dates super duper models.”

“Super duper models?”

“Like, only the most famous models,”  she said.  “Your Stephanie Allisons and your Nadias and your Tula Faracosis.”  She went on, sitting down.  “The best of the best, with perfectly symmetrical little faces, and tiny perky boobies.”  She continued, gesturing to her own pendulous breasts.  Lisa was in her late 50s and had four kids.  She frequently bemoaned that she used to have a much better body, but her kids had sucked it out of her.

I said nothing. I couldn’t imagine wanting to be involved with a man who was just as frequently on TMZ as he was on CNN.  It sounded exhausting.

“I heard he only dates women until they are 23 and then he dumps them.”  Another team member, Jackie Woller said.  She must have overhead us.  She rolled her chair to the edge of her cube and peeked around the corner at us.  “At the stroke of midnight on your 23rd birthday, he kicks you out of bed unceremoniously.”  she said in a mock ominous, slightly spooky voice.

“That’s Leonardo DiCaprio.”  I said, feeling myself smile a little bit.  I glanced back at the conference room.  Was it my imagination, or was Oscar Martin looking at me?  I ducked my head, counted to 10, and then looked up again.

He was definitely looking at me.  He was leaning back in the chair in the conference room, not paying attention to whomever was speaking.  One of the lawyers, I thought absently.  Our eyes met. He smiled again, and this time, he lifted his fingers in a slight wave.

“Hi,”  He mouthed.

I ducked down behind the wall of the cubicle.

“What’s wrong?”  Lisa said, hearing the ruckus.  Then she looked up. “Oh.”

“What?”

“Oscar Martin is looking over there,”  she said.  “He’s… kinda laughing to himself?”  She said slowly.

“He waved at me.”  I said.  “I’m mortified.”

“We should all stop staring and get back to work before he fires us.”  Jackie muttered.  “Though, he’ll probably do that anyway.  Gut the firm, get whatever tech we have that he wants, and then leave us all on the street.”

I turned back to my laptop; my code was still compiling, so there wasn’t much for me to do. I pretended to be working diligently for the next 45 minutes, and resisted the urge to look up.  However, when I eventually  heard the door to the conference room open, I couldn;’t help myself.

They filed out of the conference room, Oscar Martin shaking hands with lawyers and my boss following behind, looking rather pale. I looked away again, chewing nervously on my bottom lip.  I wondered if my boss had already been canned.  How long for the rest of us? 

“Hello,”  A quiet voice said.  I recognized it, the light hispanic accent wrapping around the word like silk. I looked up to see Oscar Martin leaning on the wall of my cubicle looking down at me. “Oscar Martin.”  He extended his hand.  After a beat, I shook it, but I still didn’t speak.  “And your name is…?” He prompted me.

“Cara Kavanaugh.”  I said quietly.

“Cara.”  He said.  He smiled, a strange look on his face.  Something between surprise and satisfaction..  “It’s nice to meet you, Cara.” He turned back to the others who were waiting for him. “One second.”  He said.  The lawyers nodded.  “I hope I see you around.”  Then he left.

“Did that just happen?” Lisa said, her eyes wide.

“I think it did.”  I said.

“Wow,” Jackie said from her cubicle.

“I caught a whiff of his cologne, ugh, he smells so good.”  Lisa moaned. “Why do you think he was looking at you ? You’re pretty, but you’re no Tula Faracosi.”

I waved her away dismissively, and looked up again as Oscar Martin headed towards the main entrance of the office.  He gave me another look over his shoulder as he went.

What on earth was going on?

After work, I headed to my apartment, idly wondering if I should brush up my resume.  I’d worked at Logistica for about 6 years, starting there right after college. I’d had several positions within the company before becoming the lead project programmer last year.  I didn’t relish the idea of a job search… and while there were no shortage of programming jobs in the world, I had liked working for Logistica.

I opened my laptop, but instead of pulling up my resume, I googled Oscar Martin instead.  His wikipedia page was the first result not from a tabloid.

I read the details about him.  He was 6’1”, Argentinian, spoke Spanish, English, Portuguese, and French, and he had been married once, when he was young.  His wife had died at age 22.  I didn’t possess the Google Sleuthing Skills some of my friends had, so I couldn’t find much else about her.  Cause of death was “unspecified cancer.”  That was tragic.  He had been 24 at the time.  I read about the success of his company, MarTech, and the various companies it had absorbed over the years.  I read about the famous women he was linked to, believed to have dated, rumored to have left broken-hearted.  Taylor Swift’s latest album allegedly had a song or two about him on it. Models, Singers, Actresses all, with beautiful faces and glamorous lives.

And he had smiled at me.  I didn’t think myself unattractive; I have a pretty face, with pale skin, bright blue eyes, and a nice smile.  My hair was actually freshly minted at the salon, and my caramel colored waves were top notch, but I wasn’t a model.  I wasn’t glamorous.  I was a programmer who wrote code. I went to bed at 10:30 after watching reruns of Friends . I had been wearing a men’s graphic t-shirt that said “Tell Your Dog I Said Hi” on it, for crying out loud.  

I made myself dinner - microwaved veggies, minute rice and costco rotisserie chicken, very glamorous- I thought as I sat down to eat, then I watched TV for a while.  Around 7pm, I called my best friend Keith.

“You’ll never guess who I met today.”

“The pope?”

“I don’t think you could be more wrong.”

“Donald Trump?”

“Closer,”  I laughed.  “Oscar Martin.”

“Wow,”  He said.  And then “Oh no,”

“Yeah, so if you know of any outfits looking for a programmer…”  I said.

“I’ll keep an ear out.  So it’s official?”

“He signed the paperwork for the company today.  I suppose it’ll be a few days before we get marching orders.”  I said.  Then I changed the subject.  “How’s Carolina?”

“Doing okay, postpartum has been rough on her.”  He admitted. 

“Can I do anything?”

“Maybe swing by and see her at the shop.  I think she’d like that.”

“I’ll come by after work one day this week.  But let’s let her think it's a surprise.”

“Deal.”  We talked for a bit longer, discussing his infant son and his work, before I finally said good night.

“Thanks for asking about Carolina.  I know you and her-”

“Hey, water under the bridge.”  I said quickly. “Have a good night.”

“You too.”

I went to bed that night wondering if my badge would work on the front door of the building in the morning.

The next morning, I arrived at the office and my badge worked.  I was getting into the elevator when I heard someone call “Hold the door!”

I put my hand in front of the door to prevent it from closing, and a breathless Oscar Martin slipped in beside me.

“Good morning Cara.”

“Uh, Good morning.”  I returned, trying to disguise the fact that my breath had caught in my throat.  I studied him out of the corner of my eye.  He certainly dressed like a tech guy; jeans, sneakers, and a yellow, blue and green plaid button down.

“Have you worked for Logistica long?” he asked as the elevator crept up to the 25th floor. His accent was so smooth, giving his voice a musical quality.

“Six years,”  I said quietly.  I felt so awkward making small talk with him.  I felt like Ann Boelyn making cheerful conversation with the man holding the sword.

“That’s a long time in this industry.”  He commented.  “Do you like it here?”

“Yeah, I do, a lot.” I said honestly.  He nodded.  Mercifully, the elevator came to a stop and the doors opened to my floor.  I stepped out.  He followed me to my desk. 

“I hope I see you later, Cara.”  He said, and he headed to the conference room, where it looked like a meeting had already started.

“Did you really just walk in with Oscar Martin?” Lisa asked as I put my things down.  I sat heavily in my chair. 

“Yes, why?”

“You rode in the elevator with him?”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Ballsy.”

“I was already in the elevator.”  I shrugged.

“He’s looking over here again.” Jackie called in a low voice from her cube.

“This is ridiculous.”  I muttered. “You two are being ridiculous.”  I grabbed my laptop. “I’m going to go work in one of the empty offices.”

Shortly before lunch time, an email went out that there would be a catered lunch for staff, compliments of the new owners.  I rolled my eyes, but I wasn’t too proud to turn down a free meal, so at 12, I headed down to the breakroom.

It was a feast.  Kabobs of shrimp, Chicken, and tender steak, exotic salads, grilled vegetables, rice pilaf and more.  The junior programmers had loaded down their plates and were scurrying back to their cubes, but some of the upper management were schmoozing with Oscar as he stood in the breakroom, a plate in his hand, but not eating.

I helped myself to some food and while I was grabbing a plastic fork, Oscar excused himself from the ass kissers and came alongside me.

“How’s your day going?”  He asked, his accent wrapping around the words in an almost sultry way. It would seem there was no such thing as a free lunch.  I was going to have to pay for it by being polite to my executioner.

“Fine, thanks.  And thanks for lunch.”  I said, holding up my plate.  I started towards the door but he fell into step beside me.

“So you’re a programmer.”  He said.  It wasn’t a question, but he didn’t elaborate.

“Yeah,” I said.

“And you worked on the Omega project.”

“I wrote the code for it, yes.”

“I was very impressed with it.”  He said. “That’s actually why I wanted to buy Logistica.”

“My code?”

“Well, your code, and the program it powers.”  He said. “Would you ever consider coming to work directly for me?”

I blinked at him.

“What?”  He asked, perplexed.

“I do work for you, you own the company I work for.”

“Yes, but I have a need for a programmer outside of what I plan to do with Logistica.”

“What do you plan to do with Logistica?” I asked sharply.  Careful, Cara .  I chastised myself.  Fortunately, he looked amused.

“I haven’t decided yet, but I intend to use your code for a project I’m working on.”  I wanted to ask him if it was for his weapons division, but bit my tongue.

“I get the sense you don’t like me much.”  He went on, still following me toward the office where I had set myself up to work for the day.

“I just don’t know you.”  He was right, I didn’t like him, but hopefully this lie would help me keep my job.

“Well, my offer stands; your work speaks for itself, you’re clearly brilliant.”  He said. “Think about it.”

“Thank you.”  I said, unsure of what else to say.  He gave me a perfunctory nod, and then disappeared, presumably back to the conference room.  After lunch, I was pretty full, and the empty office was starting to feel a little too warm. I headed back to my cube so that I wouldn’t fall asleep. I didn’t have much to work on but I didn’t think this was a good time to be seen sleeping in an office somewhere, even if the new boss had just offered me a job.

“Get lonely?” Lisa asked when I sat back down.

“Hot.”  I muttered.

“The rumor mill is flying.”  Lisa said.  “Three people asked if you got let go.”

“Why?”

“You weren’t at your desk.”

“Jesus.”  I muttered, opening my laptop and trying to find something to do to look productive.  The conference room was empty.

“Cara?”  My boss, Kevin McCormick, came up to the edge of my cubicle.  “Can you come with me please?”

“Should I bring my purse?” I asked.

“Just come with me please.”  Kevin said.

I cast a look back at Lisa.  Her eyes were wide.

I followed Kevin to his office.  A man I didn’t recognize was there. At least it wasn’t Betty from Human Resources.

“Hello Ms. Kavanaugh,” the unfamiliar man said.  He was probably 50, with thinning dark hair, and broad shoulders.  He wore a suit.  “My name is Benton Reavis.  I am the inside counsel for MarTech, and Mr. Martin  would like to extend you a rather lucrative employment option.”  He slid a manilla folder across the table to me.  I opened it.

“The salary is listed on the first page.  The additional benefits are listed on the second.  We are proud to offer you full medical, dental, and vision, plus 12 weeks paid vacation,” He went on, but I wasn’t listening.

$450,000.

“There has to be a mistake.”  I said.

“No, there’s no mistake.”  Mr. Reavis said.  “Mr. Martin was very explicit about the offer, particularly the salary.”

“Uh…”  I stammered.  “I can’t- this is…”

“Mr. Martin has reviewed your entire portfolio and employment history at Logistica, and he’s quite impressed with you.  He feels you’ve been under compensated for your work, and he would like to offer you the position of head of development at MarTech.”

“Can I… think about it?”

Mr. Reavis looked surprised.  I suppose it must have been surprising that anyone would need to think about that salary offer.

“Of course, but please be aware that we are actively recruiting so-”

“You’ll have my answer by tomorrow morning.” I replied quickly.

“Very well. My number is inside if you have any questions.”  Mr. Reavis said.  “I don’t think I need to tell you that this is a very lucrative offer.”

“I’m aware.”  I said. “I just don’t think I’m qualified for it.”

“Mr. Martin does.”  Mr. Reavis said with a shrug.  “He’s very rarely wrong about these things.”  I pressed my lips together, and thanked him for his time.

I tucked the folder under my arm and headed back to my desk again.

“Should I get you a box?”  Jackie asked.

“No. I still work here.”

“What’s that?”  she pointed to a folder under my arm.

“Something about the code I worked on for the omega project.”  I said, tucking it into my bag.

“Uh-huh.”  Lisa muttered. “Keep your secrets.”

Towards the end of the day, I headed towards the elevators.  Oscar Martin was waiting for an elevator himself.

“Going down?”  He asked, a twinkle in his eyes.

“To the lobby.”  I said, narrowing my eyes.

Now he laughed.

“What’s so funny?” I asked.

“You don’t hide your thoughts very well, and it’s becoming really clear you don’t like me.  Am I going to get a disappointing phone call from Mr. Reavis in the morning?”

“If you mean, am I going to decline your job offer, I haven’t decided yet.”

“I see.  Can I ask what it is about me you don't like?”

“I told you, I don’t know you.  I just know your reputation.” I said. 

“I see.”  He frowned a bit.  “Well, I hope you’ll allow me to show you the real me.”

The elevator opened then, and he gestured for me to go ahead. I did, but he didn’t follow.

“Weren’t you waiting for the elevator?” I asked.

“I’ll get the next one,”  he replied, and I could tell I’d hurt his feelings. That was surprising.  The elevator doors closed before I could say anything else. I sighed.

Once in the lobby, I headed home on foot.  The weather was nice, and it was only 10 blocks.  At home, I studied the job description.  It sounded like a dream, and if the offer was coming from anyone else, literally anyone else, I would have taken it. But my mother had a saying about not getting into bed with serpents.

I sighed.  I had student loans and my rent was going up at the end of the month.  I needed a new bike and I liked to eat out with my friends on occasion.  This job would open doors for me, too.  Oscar Martin knew EVERYONE in tech.  And the salary , I thought again.  It was almost half a million dollars.  Even after taxes,  I would be set.  I could move to a nicer apartment.  And what if I refused?  Then I’d have no job in a few weeks when he eventually gutted Logistica.  Or worse, he might feel slighted.  A man as powerful as he was could easily make sure I never worked in tech again.

I bit my lip, and then I dialed the number on the business card stapled inside the folder.

“Mr Reavis?  It’s Cara Kavanaugh.”  I bit my lip. “I’d like to negotiate a couple of stipulations on your employment offer.”  If he was going to try to buy me, I was going to make him pay through the nose.

“You don’t feel it’s a generous offer?”

“I do, but I’m very happy where I am, and in order for me to leave, I’d like to ask for two additional concessions on Mr. Martin’s part.”

“And what are those?”

“First, I would like assurances that my team at Logistica be kept on and offered positions in the development group should MarTech decide to do layoffs or liquidation at Logistica.  They are good workers and I would like them to be involved in any project I work on.”

“How many team members?”

“Six.”

“And your second concession?

“A hybrid work model.  I would like to work from home two days a week.”  I said.

“I’ll discuss this with Mr. Martin and have an answer for you shortly.”

My phone rang less than 20 minutes later.

“Mr. Martin has agreed to your terms.”  Mr. Reavis sounded surprised.  “Congratulations, Ms.Kavanaugh, and welcome aboard.  You’ll need to report to MarTech HQ tomorrow morning to make it official and so we can provide you with an updated offer letter to match your requests.  The address is-”

“I know where it is.”

“Please be there by 9am.”

“Thank you.”

I sat down on the couch in disbelief.  I was going to be the head of development for one of the biggest tech firms in the world, at 5 times my current salary. Maybe now my dad would finally be proud of me.  

I looked at the framed photo of Keith and I on my side table.  We had been dating at the time it was taken.  I didn’t have feelings for him anymore, not like that, but I had a pang of loneliness and sorrow when I looked at it.  We had been a great couple, but he had said “It’s like a best friend thing, not a love of my life thing.”  when he broke up with me.  He wasn’t wrong, but I hadn’t felt that it was a bad thing, that we were friends.  So what if it wasn’t this big passionate thing?  It worked.  We had been happy, or so I’d thought. And then he’d met Carolina, and that had been that.

I leaned back, looking up at the ceiling. I hoped I wasn’t going to regret this. It wasn’t like me to make snap decisions, but if nothing else, I would be able to pay off my student loans in a few months, so even if it all went south, that was a silver lining.

There was something eating away at the back of my mind, though.  I was good at my job, but I wasn’t that good.  Unless he saw some potential in the Omega Project that I didn’t.  It worried me.  But this wasn’t a contract, I wasn’t locked in for any length of time, so I could leave if it didn’t work out, I rationalized.

I normally wore jeans and a t-shirt to work, but I thought I might need to look a little more put together for this… I settled on a pair of dark green trousers and a white top, and set them aside for the morning.  I set three alarms on my phone, then I had another unglamorous meal before I called my parents to tell them the news.  They put me on speaker phone so they could talk to me together.

“You have to get everything in writing.”  My dad said when I finished.

“I know Dad.”

“Let me know if you want me to have Murray look it over.”  Murray was the family lawyer.

“It’s fine Dad, I can handle it.”

“They’re paying you how much?”  My mother was in disbelief.

“Almost half a million.  I’m going to run their whole development team.”  I said, reading over the offer letter in front of me. 

“Cara, please don't take this the wrong way, but are you sure you know what you’re getting into?  The things they say about that man on TV.”

“I’ll be careful, mom.”  I promised. “I’m aware of his reputation, but this is going to open so many doors for me.”

“I worry that if it doesn’t work out he’ll-”

“Mom!”  I said.  “Don’t talk like that, positive vibes.”  I said.  I didn’t want to think about what a powerful man like that would do if it didn’t work out.  And I didn’t want to tell her that I felt like I couldn’t say no, either.

“If you’re sure,”  she said, but I could hear the doubt in her voice. “He’s very handsome.”  She conceded.

“I’m not interested.”  I said.

“Good.”  My dad said. “You do your job, keep your head down, and your nose clean.”

“He really said he wanted to buy Logistica because of your code?” My mom spoke again, but there was an ember of pride in her voice. 

“More or less.  I don’t know if he was flattering me or not, but that’s what he said.”  I said.

My parents talked about the offer for more than an hour before finally letting me go.  I went to bed, but couldn’t sleep.  I was too anxious about the morning.  It was late by the time I dozed off.

[pedropascal24-7]

Pedro giving us a peek of chest

[martellspear]

─── ELIA WEEK - DAY O2

Doran & Oberyn: I had a sister

[cicimellie]

i am NOT off my pedro pascal insanity yet. any time i watch anything he's in i feel like winona ryder when she's all "here he is telling me about his poor dead mother and all i can think about is his hands unbuttoning my dress." joel miller im sorry i was looking at your biceps when your daughter died. maybe you could call me 'baby' too... also sorry about gnawing on my knuckles and screeching in deranged hunger when you were torturing a guy. oberyn martell is talking about the tragic death of his sister and i am NOT listening. let's make out.

[sunspearesque]

Happy Red Viper Day to all who celebrate! 🐍☀️

ten years ago today, oberyn martell played by pedro pascal made his debut on the season 4 premiere of GoT… and the rest is history🧡

pictures: stainsofpascal via ig

[carolina-reaper]

Ngl, I think those of you in the GoT fandom who say they'd like to live in King's Landing or Winterfell or wherever else are CRAZY. If it were me, I'd fuck off to Dorne immediately, no questions asked.

[spideydaddy]

HELP

[sinnaminie]

Happy last day of 2023!

For my final plushie photo of this year, I’ve assembled all the Pedro Pascal plushies I could find for a family photo.

Thank you all for the love and support over the past 12 months. Hope we all have a wonderful 2014 😘

[spacelatinos4life]

Game of Thrones’ Team on Dorne, Oberyn’s Exit | Entertainment Weekly (27 July 2014)

The cast of Game of Thrones talks to EW at Comic-Con.

[sugar-and-pearls]

Familial FOS PERSONALITY TYPES AND HOW THEY INTERACT WITH MINE

(I'm not going to lie, this will be MUCH longer than my previous ones)

INFP X INFP

INFPs will typically have a weird “mind-reading” connection with other INFPs. That said, these types are so individualistic that if they have opposing values their connection can be like a bomb about to explode. When INFPs have friendships with other like-minded INFPs they tend to feel heard, seen, and inspired. Together they can explore each other’s imaginative inner worlds, fight for similar causes, and listen to each other without fear of external pressures and rules.

INFP X ESFJ

Warmth and passion are often at the heart of this friendship or relationship. ESFJ/INFP partnerships can be tumultuous or deeply rewarding depending on how willing both types are to understand and respect each other. ESFJs often appreciate the quiet tenderness of INFPs. INFPs can help them to tap into a deeper, truer sense of who they are and what they value. In contrast, ESFJs can provide INFPs with a friendly, down-to-earth haven with which to be themselves and share their ideas.

INFP X ESFP

These two types tend to click because they have a shared passion for authenticity and adventure. ESFPs can help break INFPs out of their shell and introduce them to a variety of exciting experiences. Their enthusiasm and fun-loving nature is often endearing to INFPs. In turn, INFPs can help ESFPs to tap into their emotions more fully and experience life with more depth and imagination. These types tend to bounce ideas and possibilities off each other well, with the ESFP wanting to immediately take action on ideas and the INFP going along for the ride and frequently enjoying the thrill!

INFP X ESTJ

ESTJs and INFPs tend to have fiery interactions – sometimes in a good way, sometimes in a bad way. They are opposites in many ways while still sharing the same cognitive functions. ESTJs are often drawn to the quiet sensitivity and creativity of INFPs while INFPs are drawn to the pragmatic, logical nature of ESTJs. If both types can be patient with each other’s differences there is a lot of opportunity in this friendship or partnership for personal growth and broader perspectives.

INFP X ISFP

ISFPs and INFPs tend to have a really strong and powerful connection almost immediately. They both are dominant introverted feeling types, so they naturally give each other space to be themselves. They are both idealistic and visionary, with ISFPs having a more down-to-earth, pragmatic bent while INFPs are more focused on imagination and conceptualization. Together they can broaden each other’s worlds and help each other to have more open-minded, balanced perspectives.

INFP X INFJ

INFJs and INFPs share a mutual love of meaningful, deep conversation. These types tend to thrive as friends when they give each other space to be their authentic selves. While they share none of the same cognitive functions, because they share three preferences (Introversion, Intuition, Feeling) they tend to respect each other’s individual needs, empathize readily, and connect over ideas and possibilities.

INFP x INTJ

While these types might seem like opposites at first glance, they actually have quite a bit in common. They both look inward to their values and outwards to efficacy when they make decisions. They are both introverts and intuitives. They enjoy exploring ideas, theories, and possibilities together. They also respect each other’s personal values and autonomy.

INFP X ESTP

ESTJs and INFPs tend to have fiery interactions – sometimes in a good way, sometimes in a bad way. They are opposites in many ways while still sharing the same cognitive functions. ESTJs are often drawn to the quiet sensitivity and creativity of INFPs while INFPs are drawn to the pragmatic, logical nature of ESTJs. If both types can be patient with each other’s differences there is a lot of opportunity in this friendship or partnership for personal growth and broader perspectives.

INFP X INTP 

INTPs and INFPs have a shared love of freedom, exploration, and autonomy. INTPs prefer thinking over feeling so they may come across as overly blunt to INFPs, and INFPs may come across as overly-sensitive to INTPs. However, once they get to understand each other there’s usually a very strong bond and mutual appreciation. Both respect each other’s space to feel and think what they want and both have a creative energy that is inspiring to the other.

INFP X ISFJ 

ISFJs and INFPs create a bubble of warmth and empathy for each other. These types usually click very quickly. They share a mutual sense of empathy, warmth, and gentleness. At the same time, ISFJs bring a more grounded presence to the relationship while INFPs help to clarify values, bring ISFJs into their pure identity, and give a spark of imagination. These types share two cognitive functions: Extraverted Intuition and Introverted Sensation. Because of this, while they have some differences, there is still a mutual sense of comfort here.

INFP X ENTJ

ENTJs and INFPs are very different at first glance, but these two types can really help each other grow. INFPs are often inspired by the big-picture, strategic, action-oriented nature of the ENTJ. ENTJs in turn find the warmth, authenticity, and imagination of the INFP intriguing. They can both help each other in contrasting ways. ENTJs can help INFPs bring their ideas to life and tap into their thinking side. They can also help them refine their ideas and create strategies for their realization. INFPs, in turn, can help ENTJs delve into their deeper feelings and values. They can also help them to see innovative alternatives and possibilities so they don’t get stuck in tunnel vision.

INFP X ENTP

ENTPs and INFPs share a mutual love of exploration, imagination, and creativity. While these types can have some friction due to their differing judging processes (ENTPs are auxiliary thinkers and INFPs are dominant feelers), these same differences can help them grow as individuals. This friendship or relationship pairing may be a little fiery and argumentative at times, but if both types can work at understanding each other’s type preferences it can also be one of growth and refinement.

[tightjeansjavi]

Bonus round for the Red Viper himself…

Let’s talk about that chiseled jawline, goddamn.

[ligawolfcosplayandarts]

I decided to add shading , so have Gregor gradually gearing up.

Let's pretend he's Gregor from Good! Mountain AU because he's smiling here. We need Good!Mountain AU just to have less dead people and smiling Mountain who wants to make up to his brother Sandor. I adore Sandor so much and in my Sandor x OC fanfic I have AU Mountain who even didn't kill Elia and her children (He told Varys to take them three, hide them far away from Lannisters and lied to Tywin that was too late to get them).

Anyway, gradual gear up.

Shirtless.

Armoured

Armoured with Helm on. 🏔️

[westeroswisdom]

Pedro Pascal will be the host of Saturday Night Live on February 4th.

Pedro Pascal will bring his TV takeover to NBC’s Studio 8H where he’s set to make his “Saturday Night Live” hosting debut next month.

NBC announced Thursday that the actor will host the sketch-comedy series on Feb. 4. He will be joined by musical guest Coldplay, which will return for its seventh “SNL” appearance.

[ ... ]

Pascal’s “SNL” gig also comes a month before he’s set to return as the titular character in Season 3 of Disney+'s “The Mandalorian”  on March 1. 

The actor, also known for “Game of Thrones” and “Kingsman: The Golden Circle,” is well aware that his recent roles have been father figures. And so are his Twitter fans, many of whom have celebrated the actor as “daddy” — and  not in the paternal way.

Whenever a GoT person is host of SNL there is either a related skit or at least a major reference to the series. In the case of Kit Harington, some of his series friends showed up.

Of course it would be very cool if Bella Ramsey dropped by. Hafþór Júlíus Björnsson (The Mountain) would be another interesting possibility. A visit from The Bud Knight, who met his end at Super Bowl LIII the same way as Oberyn Martell, would be esoteric. Whatever happens, it should be a fun SNL with Pedro Pascal.

[springs-hurts]

Martin really created a powerhouse character, only to kill him in the same book...like bloody hell you made him so perfect only to give him such brutal end and people ask why We hate and love Martin😭

Also, while he did die, he lived longer than Ned Or Robert did🥲 and if not for Elia's murder, one could have said his life was lil too perfect. Second son, brilliant,sharp mind, wasn't honorable just for the sake of it. Was bloody intelligent and handsome. And lived till 40. And his daughters are known as sand snakes lol just perfect!

He had traveled in the Free Cities, learning the poisoner’s trade and perhaps arts darker still, if rumors could be believed. He had studied at the Citadel, going so far as to forge six links of a maester’s chain before he grew bored. He had soldiered in the Disputed Lands across the narrow sea, riding with the Second Sons for a time before forming his own company. His tourneys, his battles, his duels, his horses, his carnality…it was said that he bedded men and women both, and had begotten bastard girls all over Dorne. The sand snakes, men called his daughters.

[sinnaminie]

Happy Birthday Pedro Pascal !!

[juletheghoul]

Unbroken

AN: I have been toying around with this idea for a couple of years at this point-the idea of being Elia's lady in waiting, and being aggressively pursued by her brother, Oberyn. I imagine him to be younger, wilder, but just as passionate. There is no Ellaria yet, there is no betrayal, just two people who cannot get enough of each other and Oberyn using his position for nothing but mischief. This is quite obviously before the nastiness that we all know befalls House Martell, lets live in it a while! I have a whole drama planned out for them in my head so I might actually write it all out - lets see if I can find the time lol. (in the moodboard above, the face you see is how I imagine Elia to be, reader is still completely nondescript!) This is unbeta'd, all mistakes are mine- hope you enjoy! 🧡

Oberyn Martell x F!Reader

Pairing: Oberyn x F!Reader

Word Count: 1.7K

Warnings: (18+ NO MINORS) , language, Smut 18+, PIV sex (wrap it up), dirty talk **pregnancy**

Let me know if I missed anything!

reblogs are appreciated

Masterlist 

Her skirts swirl in the wind, whipping around her legs like sand. They were the colour of dusk, burnt oranges and yellows, favouring her golden skin, and her dark eyes. Elia Martell–all the Martells–looked best in these colours. You smile at her as you pour her a cup of wine, indulging her despite her delicate constitution. 

“This is the last of it my Princess,” you fill the cup halfway, “You know it does not sit well.”

“Yes, yes,” she rolled her eyes, sipping at the wine, “you are worse than Doran.” 

You sigh, goodnaturedly, until one of the guards of Sunspear comes, interrupting the Princess enjoying the non-existent breeze.  

“My princess, my lady,” He speaks, addressing you respectively, “The Prince, Oberyn requests your company-”

“Oh what could my brother possibly want from me right now?” She huffs out a breath, her winecup getting the brunt of her annoyance. 

“My apologies Princess, it is not your company he asks for.” He bows his head in deference, his gaze then moving to you. “My lady, Prince Oberyn awaits.” 

Your heart races to hear him calling for you, despite it not being the first time. Elia laughs, and dismisses you graciously. “Go then, my lady. You cannot keep The Red Viper waiting for long, he is prone to sulk, or fight.” Her tinkling laugh follows you where the guard leads, ringing out as you make your way towards his chambers. 

You smile to yourself as you walk the halls of Sunspear, the sound of your soft steps ringing out, bouncing off the tiles and the high, arched ceilings. Your heart feels like a bird in the cage of your ribs, fluttering wildly as you finally make it to the giant door leading to him. 

You meet the solid wall of his back when the guard opens his chamber door, he is sitting at his desk by the window, head down and quill scratching across a piece of parchment. His head turns at the sound of the door, and the quill is discarded. His eyes are lively when they meet yours, full of mischief and devilment. 

“You called for me, my Prince?” You try, genuinely, try to keep the smile off your face. “Is there something you desire of me?” He narrows his eyes, rising and slinking over like some big, predatory cat. He is so tall, his shoulders so broad and the cut of his robes only serves to highlight his best features. The breadth of him, the trim waist, the enchanting vision of his throat and chest on display. All of it conspiring to make you ache to touch him. He laughs low, the sound hardening your nipples. 

“Just you, my flower.” He doesn’t so much reach for you, as strike, like his namesake. His arms wrapping around your waist quick enough to pull a gasp from you. His lips descend quickly, pressing against your neck, his tongue following closely behind and all you can do for a moment is gasp in delight, gathered up in his arms with your hands pressed against his chest.

“This is why you pull me away from the Princess? Because you cannot contain your passion for a few hours my Prince?” His hands travel, landing heavy on your backside, while his mouth travels from your shoulder, up to capture your mouth in a searing kiss, a kiss that pushes everything but him from your mind.

“Yes, my love, I cannot contain my passion for you for even a heartbeat.” He speaks the words, turning your heart, and your cunt to liquid for him, before his deft hands pull at the laces and fastenings of your dress. 

“My Prince, I am to serve-” He pulls the dress up and off, leaving you in your small clothes, “Your sister, I am to serve–” He cuts off the words with another kiss and this time you moan into his mouth, heart pounding between your legs, knowing even now as you protest that you will let him do whatever he wants, that you need him to.

“My sister is too greedy with you, too selfish.” He undoes his robe, slipping it off to fall at his feet as he herds you towards his bed. 

“She keeps you to herself, when she knows of my desire for you.” you tumble into his linens, the smell of him surrounding you, spicy and sweet, like desert heat, fiery peppers, sweet and fragrant oranges. 

He slots his hips between your legs, and his cock is so hard it makes you gasp, the fabric of his breeches dampening when he grinds against the small clothes that cover your sex. 

“You are insatiable–Oberyn!” You gasp his name when he tears the small clothes from your body, his impatience to have you naked and open to him making him ravenous. He laughs, eyes like black diamonds as he practically kicks his breeches off in his haste to get his cock out. 

“I am unwell, my love, truly and deeply sick with want.” He moans the last word when he finally fits himself at the mouth of your cunt, slipping in with one brutal thrust. 

“Gods, yes my love, this is what I needed, to be buried up to my balls in this sweet little cunt.” He moans, his tone obscene as he rocks himself inside you. 

Your arousal is something as fierce as he, the fullness of him only further inflaming your passion. It is always like this with him, never dull, never calm, always an inferno in your veins and in your lungs. He passes it on to you, his fire catching on your skin and soon, you are clutching to him, begging him, your arousal coating him and dripping onto his bed. 

“Yes, yes–” You chant, in tune with every roll of his hips. The sun shining through the window paints everything in his colours. 

“Did you miss me, my love? Miss me here?” He punctuates the word with a hard snap of his hips, it makes your breasts bounce, makes you let out a whine. 

“Yes my Prince, yes, always miss you–” You open your legs wider, giving him more room to get deeper, to fuck you harder, “Oberyn, you’re splitting me open.” You pull him forward, the temptation of his neck is too great, you suck a mark into it, relishing the way he groans. His hand pulls yours up and over your head, making your chest jut out for his tongue. He teases at your sensitive nipples as his cock strokes, and strokes, and strokes until you are on the precipice, on the dagger's edge of pleasure. 

“I can feel it, ready to burst for me–” He smiles, drunk on the pleasure and when he lets go of your hands and presses his thumb to your clit you unravel, clenching and soaking him in your release. “There it is, that’s it-” He speeds up, burying his face into your neck while you take what he gives, his chest pressed up against yours, sweat slicked and warm. 

His pace falters and you feel the hot jet of his seed inside, he groans, changing to a dirty grind as he comes deep. 

He collapses once he’s milked himself dry, his comforting weight pressing you to his feather bed. Your legs settle around his waist, ankles locking on the swell of his ass and your arms wind around his neck to play with his sweat-soaked hair. He hums as you trail your nails down, tickling at the smooth skin of his back. Your lips press kisses against his shoulder where it rests under your chin. This is your favourite part, being full of him, surrounded by him, loved by him, and pouring all of your affection and love back into him in return. 

“Are you quite comfortable, my Prince?” You scratch at his scalp as he takes deep breaths, his softening cock still buried deep. 

“Oh yes,” He huffs the words into your neck, his tongue licking a stripe up to your ear, “I could spend the rest of my life here, cock inside you, my body on yours.” 

You laugh, full throated. 

“Oh I bet you could, rutting away until I’m raw.” You bring your hands to his face, making him face you and you are once again struck by his beauty, no matter how many times you find yourself in his bed, he still makes your heart race. You swipe your thumb across his plump lower lip, and fix the unruly state of his hair. “I could stay here too, Oberyn. I could be here, under you, with you, beside you always. I love you.” You press your mouth to his, and he deepens the kiss, his ardour burning just as brightly. 

“I love you, my flower, and what we’ve created. I cannot wait to meet my son.” He brings his hand down, to the little swell of your belly, the one that's barely showing yet. You laugh again, and he smiles, his hand warm against your womb. 

“A boy is it? How would you divine that? I am barely showing–”

“I know it is a boy, I can feel it. He will be my little viper, a menace to his instructors, he will have the sweet face of his mother, and the fierce hunger of his father.” He removes himself with a hiss, pulling out and lowering himself until he presses kiss after kiss to the little bump. “Won’t you my boy? You will be the terror and delight of my life.”

He smiles up at you, bright eyed, with all of the love you feel for him shining back at you. 

“You, my love, will give birth to princes and princesses, the most beautiful children in all of the world.” He always got like this after, sentimental and romantic and it always made you happy enough to cry. 

“Yes my love, he will be all that and more.” You pull him up, wrapping his arms around you to lay your head on his chest. “You know I must go soon, I cannot stay in bed with you, despite my wish to.” He sighs, resigned. 

“Yes, Elia awaits, just another moment, and I will let you go.” You laugh, and bury your face into his neck. 

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