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knights must be hearty, good sir, nourished and well-tended. it takes immense energy to train, to guard, to fight, to attend to all your duties, especially in kit, and that's atop the loads of energy required to simply persist as the soft and sensitive creatures we are. yes, I called you soft and sensitive, hush. 'tis as true of you as any bard or bartender. such a life as yours requires adequate nutrition, and by the gods, it demands its indulgences as well. There is a reason Lugh is the patron of skills and the harvest. I must insist you take care of yourself, or else I will make it my business as your princess to ensure that you do. if I find you are neglecting to honour the body you've pledged to me with proper nuture and love, I shall take that matter upon myself. I will hear no argument on it. now, come—we're going to the kitchens to fetch a little treat together.
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You’re writing her sonnets, I got her handkerchief at the Tourney. We are not the same.
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All my homies love slaying dragons. Saving Princesses is just a benefit, the real thrill is the dragon-slaying part.
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Knight who seeks to get injured in combat so she can be tenderly held by her Lady but she keeps absolutely killing it out there and she's too honorable to throw a fight
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I love knights. I love knights. I love knights. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaauuuuughghkyottetyah. I love knights. I love knights. I love knights. I love knights. Why don't we go into battle with cool armour anymore. Knights are so cool. AhHFHJFHidhhidherewngs.
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Pooh's Grand Adventure: The Search for Christopher Robin (1997) dir. Karl Geurs
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the nastiest pornographers in the land are drawing your heraldic beast looking doe-eyed and lame in the jaws of my heraldic beast
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My mom left an eviction notice for the carpenter bees burrowing into our porch
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just found out in medieval france, having a lion on your coat of arms was so prevalent that there was literally a colloquial proverb to clown on knights for being basic and not having a real coat of arms. the hate game was so strong back then. imagine medieval hate anons
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You have to keep watch, Ser Knight. At all times. To keep me safe. Stop looking at the floor. I know you feel like you're defiling me with your gaze but you have to look.
Does it really feel that wrong you watch me touch myself? To watch my fingers dip inside? My wrist is getting so tired, you know. I don't have the stamina you have.
You know...it would go by much faster if I didn't have to do it myself. And you wouldn't have to stare so long...if you would just give me a hand.
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A helpful assortment of Armor and Sword charts for writers and historians alike.
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My Lady’s token.
A pale pink silk swath.
Gods above, please forgive me if holding it so tightly to my chest appears as sacrilege; for I do not mean to disgrace you— only to honor my lady in the way I best know how.
The fabric smells of her; Lavender and Lye. She’s so carefully sewn her initials into the middle, the bright white threadings urging me to remove my gauntlets the second I am away in my chambers.
My fingers tangle in the silk like they would against her hands.
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what I think will happen if I message my mutuals

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