#god i loved this house
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beaubirds · 2 months ago
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Oooh so this is a good post to rant about this a little.
So i grew up moving from place to place, and lived in many different environments. We were in apartments, we were in townhouses, we were in suburbs, and one time we were in a small MANSION. Out of all these places I remember living do you wanna know which one I remember the most? It wasn't the eggshell wall painted apartments with the cream colored too old carpet, or the suburban house in Seattle whose only feature stuck with me was the staircase and how the living room dropped down a step. It certainly wasn't the boxy house with, again, cream colored carpet and eggshell walls (what a staple combo they have going on here).
I remember the mansion. My mom and I still lament over this house to this DAY. Because despite that monster of a house's heating bill and (when we lived in it) it's dangerous back weathered stone porch that dropped off into the yard, this house was GORGEOUS.
The foyer alone is something to gawk at. It had marble pillars and intricate tile floors. The wood was a nice dark red color (oak i think? unsure as I was around 6 to maybe 8 at the time). The kitchen had custom made tile that shimmered. Even the side staircase that had been intended for the house maids and butlers sported a stained glass window that cast amazing shadows.
The piece of glamor the house truly held though was the upstairs bathroom. It was an oval shaped room with once again intricate tiling from the floor to the ceiling, which had a faux skylight installed that was again STAINED GLASS. The centerpiece of this room was a large clawfoot tub that literally took an HOUR to fill. It was great for baths, but you had to earn it damnit.
Of course the rest of the house was a little less glamorous due to our small changes to some rooms on the third floor, but all I can currently recall is the carpet that was put in my sisters room. Every other room had the original wallpaper (as far as I'm aware? or a replacement that happened over the years in approximation to what original was there).
I also remember my room had this little doll bench that I loved to sit and read stories on or line up my stuffed animals. It even had a balcony, though I was not allowed out in it due to its instability and my being a child.
There were only tiny things I remember about the house, like the small closet on the stairs landing that I was convinced a skeleton lived in and would pop out at me. Or how the basement had an eerie feeling due to its bomb shelter in the corner and most of it being unfinished at the time. I remember there being a sun porch but I don't remember going out on it much. There was also the time I was running down the maids staircase after my brother and my sock caught on a nail which sent me tumbling head over heels. Luckily our dad was there at the time and caught me.
This house remains in my head so much. I haven't even mentioned the dining room or the living room, or even the game room and master bedroom (all of which are vague memories at this point for me but I know they were still gorgeous).
And I remember it because of how amazing it was. It was built originally as a showcase house to explore what that neighborhood could have been. It was built with a personality and a style that you just don't see in homes anymore. It wasn't just made to be inhabited it was created to be LIVED IN and remembered the way that I do.
This is why cookie cutter eggshell walls and cream carpet with white fireplaces and led strips should not go into renovated homes. It's why renovated homes shouldn't try to go to that generic style.
A house is supposed to have a soul! A personality! If one wants to have those white style attributes then fine, it's your house, but do that to a house that was made for that! Not a house that still has the chance to show its true colors however faded they may seem.
So believe me, you WANT busy. You want color and style. You want the uniqueness. You won't be able to find that kind of design you got with the home anywhere else for a reason.
I think the thing that makes me the saddest is that the mansion we lived in did eventually get renovated. There were some good renovations for sure, like the back porch absolutely needed more protection rather than the slab of stone that was so worn it was starting to slant. They put in a wooden porch and built up a wonderful garden. They finished the basement and turned the bomb shelter into a home movie theatre.
But they did take down the wallpaper. They repainted the rooms (to their credit they did do colors!) and the moulding along the bottom and the doors were painted white. The clawfoot tub was removed and replaced with a half shower (that to my utter dismay does not stretch from one wall to the other and just cuts off partway {why would you do this it hurts my soul}).
I don't even know if the bench is still there in my old room. I wonder what they put in the skeleton closet. Or which carpet they put in to replace the bowling alley esc carpet my sisters had. I wonder if they fixed the maid stairs. I hope they kept the stained glass.
I remember and miss and love that house more than anywhere I have ever lived. I loved it because it really did have a soul.
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vaultnewt · 5 months ago
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NO MATTER WHERE I HIDE MY DONUT FRYER NICK ALWAYS FINDS IT AND USES IT
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I'M SO SICK OF HIM
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HOW?!!?!?
NICK. NICK STOP MAKING DONUTS PLEASE NICK WE NEED TO BREAK INTO THE INSTITUTE AND GET MY SON NICK PLEA
~~~
UPDATE: he finally got his donuts :]
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chaoticfvckingdisaster · 11 months ago
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Something I think about a lot is how Rick Riordan very rarely uses "girlfriend/boyfriend" to refer to Percy and Annabeth within their perspectives. They're so intertwined, even Annabeth says in hoh that the word boyfriend isn't strong enough, because Percy was a part of her. They are a singular soul, too wrapped around each others' fates that regular labels are far too weak for them. But, Rick Riordan uses "boyfriend" a lot in Nico and Wills perspectives, not because they love each other less than percabeth, but to show how much the word means to them. Nico uses it any chance he gets- "his boyfriend," "he actually had a boyfriend," because Nico has never been able to say that before. Their struggle with their queer identities mixed with Nico's catholic guilt and chronic everyone-hates-me disease makes the fact that he has someone to call his actual boyfriend so much more important to his character development.
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aquisces-arts · 8 months ago
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AU where Arlecchino is an immortal witch living in a mansion in the spooky woods and takes in 3 orphans who wandered in...
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laurrelise · 6 days ago
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my favorite 12 year-old boys
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scribble-kitti · 7 months ago
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ITS MY TURN TO MAKE A MERMAID WILLOW DESIGN <333333333
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sophie-looks-at-stuff · 5 months ago
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As You Wish
Pairing: Aemond x wife reader
Summary: Aemond's new wife has a moment of reflection wondering if her new husband truly cares for her. Aemond is determined to prove to her that he is utterly devoted to her.
Warnings: smut, some slight angst? maybe idk honestly haha, Aemond loves his wife he just has issues expressing it lol, p in v, oral (f receiving) man is a champ when it comes to that, praise, 18+, vulgar language lol, slight breeding kink
AN: hey y'all! long time no see haha, I finally watched the season 2 hotd premiere last night and had to finally write something! this is my first go at a legit fic and not just headcanons so don't be too judgy haha. but I hope y'all enjoy it! :)
PS: it is unedited rn, but I was just too excited to post it, so I'll edit it later!
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The rose-scented bubbles of the bath water lapped soothingly against your flesh. This had become your routine, after the evening's supper or feast you would call to your handmaid to draw a bath. Scalding hot water, warm enough to turn your skin pink upon contact. The boiling water and the familiar scent of the roses were one of the few things that brought you comfort after your marriage to Prince Aemond. Your family had come seasonally to court for many moons now, your mother being a friend of Queen Alicent. As your brothers sparred with the young princes in the training grounds, you took more kindly towards the gardens. Wandering around the maze of flowers and bushes searching for faeries and nymphs. Of course, you had been only a child then and had not yet known that such silly things don’t exist. 
It had been the Prince himself that informed you of such. You had been crouched on your knees before a bed of yellow roses, looking between the stems and leaves for the little creatures. The skirts of your dress soiled and stained brown from the earth beneath you. You had been so preoccupied with searching for them, that you hadn’t heard the crunching of grass and footsteps behind you.
“What in the Seven Hells are you doing?” Aemond had asked you, voice bitter but curious. You stood up hastily, nearly tripping on your own two feet as you spun around and curtsied clumsily. 
“I am searching for faeries my Prince. Mother said that they can be found amongst the stems of the most beautiful flowers!” Your small hands began to nervously dust themselves off on your already dirty skirts. Aemond’s eye followed the motion, his upper lip curling in disgust. It had only been a couple of moons since the young prince had lost his eye. The scar was still fresh and red around the edges, the eyepatch clearly bothering him. For it appeared to be fastened too tight around his head. 
“Don’t be absurd, such pathetic things don’t exist. All you’ve succeeded in doing is soiling your clothes.” He motions down towards your skirts, your cheeks heating in embarrassment. Feeling ashamed to be talked down upon by someone you hoped to be a potential friend. Even though his eye, or lack thereof, scared most, you had found it intriguing. Your father had told you stories of men in faraway places who wore their scars like badges of honor, like trophies of war. The marred skin being a testament to their victories in battle. Your father however did not return to tell the tails of his own scars, for he had passed in the Stepstones, aiding Lord Corlys and Prince Daemon in their war. 
“My apologies my Prince, for I-” you dared a look up into face, his brows knit together, arms crossed over his chest. You lowered your eyes in shame once more “I shall go change my skirts at once.” And with that you darted off, not waiting for a response from the young Targaryen. 
That had been many years ago though, and you were no longer a child, and nor was he. Prince Aemond had grown into a handsome man, not just physically, but intellectually as well. The water of your bath had grown tepid as you recalled the memory, a slight frown adorning your features. Why had he wanted to marry you? He hardly had shown any interest, more likely it was because his mother and grandfather craved the military prowess your family possessed. They needed it for the impending war. So a proposal for your hand had been made, and your eldest brother eagerly accepted. After your father’s passing, and your mother grew older in age he had taken it upon himself to attend to the coming and goings of your house. 
It wasn’t that Aemond was exactly an unkind husband, he just wasn’t present, ever. There was always a reason or excuse for him to leave a room once you arrived. The only full night you had spent with him had been your wedding night, in your marital bed. He wasn’t rough, nor was he gentle, but he possessed an air of duty and responsibility when it came to the consummation. For once he spilled his spend inside of you he had fetched a cloth for you to clean yourself. Then turned his back to you and slept, not uttering another word. 
The sound of your chamber doors creaking open drew you from your thoughts. The clanking of a sword and heavy footsteps made their way towards you in the bathing room. You were met with the sight of your rather disheveled lord husband. Before you could offer him a greeting, however, his eye lifted to your face, and he asked: 
“May I join you?” Taken aback slightly by the question there was a pause, the room silent. Then, you nodded, “Yes, yes of course you may husband.” 
Aemond had waited for your approval before stripping himself bare of his clothes, riding clothes by the looks of it. He must have been out on Vhagar. You observe him as he untethered his belts and the laces of his boots. The years of training had done him well, his arms and back muscles lean and corded. Sometimes you wondered what it would be like to drag your nails down them, as he fucked into you–
“Wife? Did you hear me?” Shit, he must have asked you something, looking up from the muscles of his arms to meet his eyes you shook your head. He chuckled a bit, smirking, you had been caught in your staring.
“I asked you, how was your day my lady wife.” A hint of amusement laced his voice, he had rid himself of his clothes, having placed them neatly over the back of one of the armchairs in the rooms. 
“Oh, well, it was alright. Nothing too exciting I'm afraid. I did have tea with your mother and sister though. That was quite pleasant, Helaena was telling me of the butterflies that come for the roses this time of year. She said we must go see them once they arrive.” As you spoke Aemond made his way around the tub, to behind you. It took an embarrassingly great deal of effort not to stare as he had presented himself bare before you. To look only above his waist and not let your eyes drift down towards his cock. 
“Mmh, yes we must see them then,” his cold hands met your shoulder blades, rubbing small, soothing, circles on them. This was his way of telling you to move forward, so that he may join you in the tub, taking his place behind you, and pulling you onto his lap. 
“You take such tepid baths wife. You’ll catch a cold one of these days.” He mumbled into your ear as he made himself comfortable behind you, his legs outstretched beside your own. It wasn’t that such small talk was uncommon between the two of you when he was around. Besides, you two did share chambers, so despite his avoidance during the day, he was bound to return to you at night. 
Turning fully to face him now, with a surge of annoyance, the water sloshing around the two of you with your sudden movements. “Why do you care? You are hardly even here to see me as is, I doubt you would even notice.” Aemond’s singular lilac eye widens, not from anger, but rather from surprise. His lady wife was always so sweet, so silent, this was new, and dare he say exciting. 
“A woman can only take so much you know–” You go to stand, to leave the tub, and go to bed, done with whatever this conversation is. Aemond’s hand shoots out to grasp your wrist, stopping you from doing so. 
“Wait!” It came out more harsh than he had intended. “I do care for you my lady, truly I do. I did not know that you–”
“Prove it.” You say interrupting whatever he is about to tell you. You keep your eyes level and voice steady. “Prove it to me then husband,”
Aemond says only one thing before attacking your lips, “As you wish,” He is not gentle in his kisses, he does not know how to be gentle. Perhaps you could teach him. His grasp on your wrist moves to your waist as he continues his assault on your lips. His hands roam the flesh of your waist, your hips, your thighs, his lips move down towards your neck. Biting and nipping at the flesh there, sure to leave a mark for all to see.
“Aemond–” 
“Shhh, let me take care of you tonight. Let me prove to you how much I desire you, my love.” He murmurs between bites and kisses. He pulls back, only for a moment, “You are beautiful, I am sorry I have not told you this enough,” his lips attach themselves to one of your breasts, suckling at the nipple. You let out a surprised breath as he bites down, a wave of pleasure shooting straight to your core.
His roaming hands have found purchase on your ass, his deft fingers kneading the plump flesh. Suddenly his grip becomes tighter as he rises from the tub with you in his arms, water spilling over the sides and onto the floor. You hurriedly wrap your arms around his neck, in an attempt to steady yourself. 
“Aemond! You’ve made a mess–” He laughs, fully this time, not just a chuckle. It’s a lovely sound you think.
 “Fuck the mess, the maids shall deal with it in the morning. I’ve neglected my dear lady wife and that must be rectified immediately. One of the hands on your ass pulls back and gives it a small slap. You gasp in surprise, tucking your face into his neck, peppering small kisses there, just as he had done to you moments before. You could get used to this side of your husband. Aemond lets out a hum of satisfaction at your ministrations, soon after playfully throwing you down onto your shared bed. 
“Aemond the sheets, they’re soaked now–” you began to protest cut off rather abruptly by his grip on your ankles. Pulling you down towards the end of the mattress, your cunt now level with his lips. 
“That should hardly matter, we have others–” he places a kiss on your inner thigh. “Besides the only thing I care to see soaked is your cunt after I am done–” Without another word or hesitation, Aemond licks a hot stripe up the center of your core. Then a second, and a third, until he loses all control. He devours you like a man starved. His strong arms wrap themselves around your things, pulling you impossibly closer to him. His tongue continues its assault on your cunt.
“You taste of the finest ambrosia–” the vibrations of his voice sending shock waves of electricity to your clit. Aemond is only spurred on further by the sound of your sweet moans. His name falling from your lips like a chant, like a prayer to the Seven. His lips find purchase on your clit, sucking and licking till you're writhing beneath him. Your hands shoot down, finding purchase in his long silver locks.
“Aemond, oh Aemond–” the words spill from your lips like nonsense. The only thing you are able to focus on is his lips and tongue lapping at your cunt. The man between your thighs devouring you like this is his last meal alive.
“Cum for me, cum on my tongue. And then I shall reward you with my cock. Cum for me my love–” As if on command, you feel the muscles of your lower abdomen contract, and then all that lovely pleasure overflows, and bursts from you. With a strangled cry of his name, you cum on his tongue. You look down at your husband between your thighs, his lips glistening in your release. 
“Good girl, my good, sweet, perfect girl. You did exactly what I asked,” he crawls up your body, stopping only to place the occasional kiss to your hot skin. His lips return to your neck, sucking love marks into the skin over the faint ones he had left before. A newfound favorite of his perhaps. He gives his cock a few strokes, his thumb collecting the beading drop of arousal from his tip. Wordlessly, he brings the digit up to your lips, pressing down gently on your bottom one. You open your mouth, sucking the essence from his finger, swirling your tongue around it, eager to please him. He groans in response, resting his forehead on yours, 
“Perhaps another night my love, I need to be inside of you now.” You release his thumb with a slight pop. 
“Fuck me then, husband–” Not needing any further encouragement, Aemond sheathes his cock inside of your cunt. The warm, velvety walls squeezing him perfectly. “Fuck–” he moans breathlessly as he slowly begins to thrust into your weeping cunt. The squelching noises from his movements turn your cheeks red, you move to hide your face in the crook of his neck once more, but a hand on your chin stops you. From above, Aemond’s lilac eye bores into your own, like a spell, you are unable to look away.
Aemond’s thrusting becomes faster, harder, like a man starved. The grasp on your chin returns to your hips. As Aemond rolls back slightly, sitting on his knees, he brings your hips to meet his, your back still on the bed. From this angle he has full control over your body, not that he hadn’t before. But now he could control his thrusts, making them sharper, harder. Beneath him, your eyes screw shut in pleasure, consumed by his ministrations. 
You look beautiful like this, he thinks. Cheeks red, hair a mess, sweat glistening on your skin. He had been a fool before, not indulging you more often. Not being by your side, it was a mistake he would make no more. He had been too afraid of your rejection, too afraid you would find him repulsive because of his scar. The scar that he himself found so disturbing. But clearly, the way his name fell from your lips, as your face contorted in pleasure, this was not the case. 
“Shall I cum inside of your perfect cunt? Shall I plant my seed, and watch you grow and swell with my child?” He barely recognized the words coming from his lips, too lost in carnal desire to notice. 
“Yes, yes Aemond, yes–” the words leaving your lips like a hymn, a prayer to your lord husband. Aemond’s fingers began to circle your bud as he continued to rut into you. 
“Together then, I can feel you little wife–” As if he possessed some kind of magic, you did as commanded. Aemond’s release coating your walls, both of you warm and well sated. Once more he leans down, leaving a small peck on your lips before resting his forehead on yours. 
“I have been a fool, a complete and utter fool. I am not a great man in many ways my sweet lady wife. But for you perhaps I could be,” He places another kiss on your lips. 
“I would like that very much Aemond,” you smile a bit as you say this because it is true and it would be unfair to not allow him to prove as much. After all, that is what you asked of him is it not? Without pulling out or away from you, Aemond rolls to his side, tucking you into him, desperate to keep you in his arms. 
“Stay like this with me tonight, please?” He asks, afraid you’ll send him away. 
“Tonight and every night if you behave,” you give him a slight pinch to add emphasis to your comment. You feel his chest vibrate against your cheek with laughter. 
“As you wish,” he says one final time, as the two of you drift off to sleep, held safely in the arms of one another.
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toneelspeelster · 1 year ago
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sarah nelson being a charlie spring lovebot
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divorceblogger · 1 year ago
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this show rules sorry
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bluejelly8 · 1 year ago
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Needless to say i am enjoying the ever loving FUCK out of The Fall of the House of Usher. I went from having a normal day to running around like a rabid dog and shaking my head as i tear apart my favorite chew toy
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arttuff · 9 months ago
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this is based off the cutest panel of them. i like to think this happens often
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tragicsiblings · 5 months ago
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We were one soul in two bodies, yes. / We were born together.
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benjaminthecoathanger · 1 month ago
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david ward dropping the entire thesis of the podcast and following it up with the funniest possible statement truly the man of all time
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lazycranberrydoodles · 1 year ago
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english translation book 5 baby we are in the ‘people assuming kid form hua cheng is xie lian’s son’ era 🔥🔥🔥 / follow for more hualian silliness
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sotc · 14 days ago
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the dynamic between crow rook and viago is genuinely sooo funny. he's your boss. he's a bully. he calls you an idiot. he scolds and reprimands you in front of your coworkers and the other talons. he cheers you on by berating you while you're fighting for your life. absolute clownery in the house de riva. love it sooo much.
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pyralart · 1 year ago
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I don't think Belos is taking it very well
First part (You are here) >> Next Part
First batch of this little series, inspired by @petitprincess1's idea! I couldn't get this scenario out of my head so of course I drew it.
Get ready because it will have at least 8 pages! Probably my longest comic yet
There will be some angst but the violence will overall be canon-typical!
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