#memes tag pending

[malkaleh]

🌈 + and OC of your choice <3

John Welles. Earl of Norwich. parcere subiectis et debellare superbos [spare the subjects, wage war against the proud]

such a beautiful boy - my sweet antinous, you were meant to lay against me, wrapped in nothing but fine silks

He’s intelligent, handsome, a dashing spy and courtier. Cultured, witty and well read. The perfect renaissance man, much enamoured of the Empire of Rome. The Duke of Norfolk’s trusted agent and friend. A monster and a gentleman.

John Norwich is one of my Tudors OT3 verse OCs. He respects one (1) of these fuckers and that’s the Duke of Norfolk. He would love the dark academia classics aesthetic. He has plans within plans. He’s the monster haunting Thomas Cromwell’s nightmares, who took him age ten and never wanted to let go.

When he finds ‘his antinous’ at court, a favourite of the monarchs and as beautiful a man as he was as a child (to Norwich) he is determined to reclaim him. For is he not his slave, his property after all.

with so much thanks to @lemurious for giving me Norwich’s latin motto and @nocompromise-noregrets for being a friend and plotting partner <33333.

[14dayswithyou]

*River voice* UT!KROW ENJOYING NUGGETS???? ARE YOU SEEING WHAT I'M SEEING N???????

✦゜ANSWERED: HE IS!!!!!!!!!!

[r1pleys]

you absolutely do not have to follow , but instead of writing i'm putting together a cute resource / positivity blog @eviesource ♡.

[rainbowgod666]

Dawg, i am serious. This is the same strain that convinced the nazis to attack the soviets during winter and while they had an alliance between them. This is the same kinda purp that made mordecai and rigby actually do their job for once. This is the shit that made the world realize that the palestinian genocide has been going on for 75 years. Shit so loud you will speak perfect latin the instant you get to Rome. Smoke this and you will know what was in metavault DHIYED before it collapsed. This is laced with enough forma and nitain to give you an internship to Digital Extremes. My sweet summer child i cannot stress enough how this is the kinda loud that will allow you to do some @nyancrimew tier hacking by simply shoving the router up your ass

Monika: that is a white chocolate offbrand italian granola bar. What the fuck are you on about

...

This is the same kush that turned King Astolfo of the Longobards into a cute anime girl-

Monika: (becomes Fully Charged* and grabs Longinus**) ALRIGHT. YOU ARE GOING TO STOP THIS NONSENSE RIGHT THE FUCK NO

[sometimesfaithisrewarded]

@brittlefcrged asked: How to let you ravage me so badly that I feel like I’m on the brink of death.

"My darling acolyte, you need only ask." Here, in this dream, it was only the two of them, and it was so easy for Phel to reshape the environment into a vaguely gothic bedchamber. Not that things would begin on the bed, that was for later.

Hours could pass here, when it was only seconds in the outside world, something Phel would gleefully take advantage of. The human's increased durability was also appreciated, after all it would take actual malice to do anything that the young woman didn't actually want.

Fire danced in the demon's eyes and heat gathered in her hands, their connection allowing her to know what Reese was seeing, or at least the details she was getting from her Sight. It was freeing, knowing she didn't have to hide, because she had already been seen, and it meant both nothing and everything.

"You've been so good for me, it is only right for you to be rewarded with every pleasure your mortal mind can comprehend…and perhaps a few it can't." Like the dancing of hellfire across oversensitive nerves, the most deliciously painful heat that would leave phantom tingling for days on end.

[umbral-dominant]

((SOME OF THESE ARE VERY SITUATIONAL, but here I am throwing Cyra at him aggressively [affectionately] ))

"... Of course you like cats... You're the best of them all."

-

[they're fools your honor]

[ofspvrta]

I want you to make love to me.

μ::|| meme: 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐔𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐄𝐗𝐔𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒. | accepting [ Ξ ]

θ::|| @paddyfuck

She'd been hovering around Edward's group for months now, coming to know them, traveling with them on occasion, and fighting alongside them. All for access to the Piece of Eden that lay hidden in the area. But it wasn't to say that the bonds she formed weren't real, they very much were. It was so rare for Kassandra to make friends that when she did, there was something special about it.

And some had come to be even more than friends.

Kassandra had barely set her hat and jacket aside in her room at the tavern when Anne's voice rang out above the rowdiness of the patrons below. She stood in the doorway, arm resting against the frame as Kassandra turned around, a smile carving into those bronze features. She can't say the thought hadn't crossed her mind before, not after that night in the water. "Is that so?" She asked, handsome features captured in flickering candlelight.

She stepped forward, placing one hand on the door above Anne's head, the other hand reaching behind her back to lead her inside. The door closes behind them, blocking out the rest of the revelers to the going ons of the room. Her breath was almost catching at the thought of intimacy, it had been some time after all. That free hand moves to Anne's exposed thigh, her other hand pulling her in close. "I think I can do that." The words were whispered as she leaned in, pressing a kiss to her lips, gentle at first, but growing in intensity as the hand at her back glided up, fingers pressing in and holding her firm against her.

This is going to be a wonderfully long night, she thought, as she led them both to the bed.

[tallbluelady]

an exploratory kiss, testing the waters between them

How sweet I roamed, or, rather, used to roam; once I was the perfect child of meadows of summer, but then the year turned, the light clarified and I saw the gaunt Erl-King, tall as a tree with birds in its branches, and he drew me towards him on his magic lasso of inhuman music.

Angela Carter, The Erl-King.

[tortoisesshells]

90. triangle ; for rvb OR rlb. <3

this is, perhaps, annoyingly fluffy. <3

Vicki was laying on the – the deck, she supposed, of the little sailboat, happily out of the way: the gaily-colored triangles of the sails filled out in the strong breeze above her; the blue sky had no clouds; the sun was hot on her skin but the wind insistent, cool. Roger had told her, uncharacteristically stern, to stay alert, but how could she? Even with her usual unease at the vastness of the bay and its motion, she slipped down: into daydreams, into a light dozing, into dreams themselves. When she woke, some time later, the sun had changed its position, the land drawn back like great green-and-grey curtains to reveal the sea. Burke’s sweater was now folded up under her head, and she watched them: windblown and talking quietly, softened by the long-setting sun.

Give me a number and two (or more) characters, and get a five sentence drabble in return!

[grand-line-tormie]

it's mighty morphin' queueing time or howevfer that saying goes

[malkaleh]

For @six-of-snakes <33333. I think you are an excellent mutual/person and artist and also you drew Tommy for me 💚💚💚💚 (and Tamora Pierce fan!)

[arctic-hands]

Related to my tags on the Irish American reblog, how long have bastardized "Celtic" crosses been neo-Nazi symbols? I wasn't aware of this stupid use until I was an adult and my father was equally unaware until I learned about it, and in our Celtic (American) Pride we often used Celtic cross imagery in decor and accessories. Granted these usually did resemble actually woven/knotted crosses (which by no means meant they were authentic. At best a few came from local Celtic Pride fests–which as I said in those tags was plagued by Confederate and Nazi imagery), but most of them came from like JoAnn's or Michael's or Walmart whenever Saint Paddy's Day rolled around. That said, the woven pattern of a Celtic cross is a bitch to draw especially when you have yet to nurture or be nurtured in any art skills, so when my borderline-Gothic ass would doodle graveyards in my school notebooks I would often doodle simplified Celtic crosses as grave markers, which unfortunately just meant a simple cross with a simple circle in it, unfortunately reminiscent of the neo-Nazi symbol.

Me and my family were staunchly Indiana liberals (to be fair that wasn't that shocking in our democrat enclave city) and have only become more leftist as time goes on, so those who knew me well would know I didn't mean anything by it, but like I have to wonder/worry that those who didn't know me well (like most of my classmates. I was pretty lonely in high school) or people who would briefly visit my home or come across us while we were wearing Celtic pins that day or something came away with the wrong impression. I'm especially dismayed at the thought that the kids I knew to be actual neo-Nazis might thought I was one of them

For the record I left school in like twenty eleven and had been doodling graveyards for years and wearing Celtic imagery for even longer. I can't really find out when the "Celtic" cross became a dogwhistle

[laznivec]

This can be platonic // Romantic // etc

BLANK UNDER THE CUT

[sunfollows]

— what does your heart look like ??

an open door, a burning hearth

your chest is wide open, and your heart is a home. others are welcomed in readily and asked to stay. you are comfort and love, everything you were never given but so desperately want to provide for others. you have built this welcoming hearth with your own two hands and won’t see anyone else left out in the cold. be careful to not burn yourself out trying to keep everyone else warm.

tagged by: @deadwar tagging: @celestialshearts @eposerta @foxmists @ratcode @notfrsale & whoever wants to do it !! tag me so i can see your results !!

[sometimesfaithisrewarded]

@brittlefcrged asked: ‘if you are my devil, then I will gladly burn.’

"I have been your devil for years, our worlds were simply too distant." Here, in dreams, she could finally touch her acolyte, the girl who had drowned exactly where she had so long ago, now grown. A soot-stained hand rested on the young woman's cheek, lifting her chin just enough to lean in and give her the gentlest of kisses. "Don't fear the fire my dear artist, it is mine, and I would never let it take you from me."

Phel knew that her touch would burn just a little, but Reese never seemed to care, which was perhaps understandable given how much she had been through.

"Would you like to feel it? Let me burn away a little of that pain of yours, some of the haze left behind from those poisons they tried to use to force your eyes shut."

[kindfair]

he had long forfeited his right to get a say in anything cathy did, or rather, in anyone cathy did. and still, despite all of it - them fighting, him betraying her more times he could count, him leaving her high and dry - he still cares. his back still stiffens up at the thought of it, her laughing in richard's bed, talking about oklahoma or whatever fucking show she was in this week that he wouldn't see. it wasn't jealousy per say - more like he didn't want anyone to win at the expense of his own losses.

he'd been the one to leave, he was the one shacked up with elise in a cozy apartment. and god, did he hate it there - each day measuring his successes against hers and finding for once, he'd been beat. he craved that feeling of superiority, and found he had none of it with her. only that same, empty feeling he'd had since that first book came out. ❝ were you fucking him when you were in ohio, when we were married ? ❞ he accuses, so hypocritical it hurts even him.

@insidefantasy !