my-darling-seneschal

[my-darling-seneschal]

#tag yourself i’m luke

[my-darling-seneschal]

yall look at this shit ad*be is tryna pull now on ppl who have outdated software:

(note for context: i’m all for piracy, but in this case my copy of CS6 was downloaded years ago when they were giving it away to students. i got it totally legally.)

[my-darling-seneschal]

When they don’t want you, that should be it. No negotiating your feelings, no questioning your worth, no downplaying their words.

[my-darling-seneschal]

💌

“if you are not too long, I will wait here for you all my life” (The Importance of Being Earnest, Oscar Wilde)

“just hold me together / tell me you’ll always want me to stay” (Shine, Years & Years)

“I mean: how shall I explain? I— it’s always so. Each time you happen to me all over again.” (The Age of Innocence, Edith Wharton)

“I suppose…she makes me quiet” (The Raven King, Maggie Stiefvater)

“It’s you, it’s you, it’s all for you” (Video Games, Lana del Rey)

“I’m walking out now into the soft light, the cooling hum of evening, and I will love you tonight, and tomorrow, and still many more, so very many tomorrows.” (Letters to Vera, Vladimir Nabokov)

“When I run out of road, you bring me home” (Sweet Creature, Harry Styles)

“Swear it.” “Why me?” “Because you’re the reason.” (The Song of Achilles, Madeline Miller)

“these, our bodies, possessed by light / tell me we’ll never get used to it” (Crush, Richard Siken)

“it was something we both knew well enough without me saying out loud to him in the street - which was, of course, I love you.” (The Goldfinch, Donna Tartt)

“If you’re not here to turn the lights off, I can’t sleep” (These Four Walls, Little Mix)

“and the boy says, ‘babe believe me it was all for you’” (Hypnotised, Years & Years)

“I love you. Come back. Come back to me.” (Atonement (2007), dir. Joe Wright)

“I could stare at your back all day” (Pink in the Night, Mitski)

“Not one word, not one gesture of yours shall I, could I, ever forget” (Anna Karenina, Leo Tolstoy)

“Don’t you think there is always something unspoken between two people?” (Something Unspoken, Tennessee Williams)

“I’d like it if you stayed” (400 Lux, Lorde)

part 2

[my-darling-seneschal]

when anne boleyn died she was mostly likely in her mid-thrities, and perhaps looked older given the years of stress she lived as queen, she may have had a few greys hair and fine lines on her face

when elizabeth i met her troops at tilbury she was 54 years old, she had bad teeth and thin hair

when eleanor of aquitaine became queen of england she was already 30 years old, when her son richard began king she was 67 and lived some of the most active and adventurous years of her life until her death at 80

when catherine of aragon arrived at her trial at blackfriars and begged henry on hers knees to reconsider and then walked out of court and refused to return she was 43 years old, she was plump and tired looking after years of miscarriages

when her daughter mary raised an army for her right to the throne and entered london she was 37 years old, she was very small and looked much older than her age because of the years of bad health she had endured

anyway women don’t have to be 25 and hot to be important and we should let these women be the ages they were when they did these things

[my-darling-seneschal]

“We think of men as antiheroes, as capable of occupying an intense and fascinating moral grey area; of being able to fall, and rise, and fall again, but still be worthy of love on some fundamental level, because if it was the world and its failings that broke them, then we surely must owe them some sympathy. But women aren’t allowed to be broken by the world; or if we are, it’s the breaking that makes us villains. Wronged women turn into avenging furies, inhuman and monstrous: once we cross to the dark side, we become adversaries to be defeated, not lost souls in need of mending. Which is what happens, when you let benevolent sexism invest you in the idea that women are humanity’s moral guardians and men its native renegades: because if female goodness is only ever an inherent quality – something we’re born both with and to be – then once lost, it must necessarily be lost forever, a severed limb we can’t regrow. Whereas male goodness, by virtue of being an acquired quality – something bestowed through the kindness of women, earned through right action or learned through struggle – can just as necessarily be gained and lost multiple times without being tarnished, like a jewel we might pawn in hardship, and later reclaim.”

— Foz Meadows (Gender, Orphan Black & The Meta of Meta)

[my-darling-seneschal]

I'm gonna be real, the kanye west phone call situation meant nothing to me and didn't change how I felt about anyone but where the public's treatment/perception of taylor swift mattered to me was when everyone ignored kanye making essentially a revenge porn music video of Taylor and many other women without their consent, when there was absolute silence and lack of support during her sexual assault case to the point where she was reprimanded during the #MeToo movement for being on the Times cover because her assault case wasnt "bad enough", and now when her entire life's work is being controlled by a man who will continue to exploit it and it's met with "well she shouldn't have signed those contracts at 15". It's literally fucking insane to me how a women can go through these things involving misogyny, manipulation, sexual assault that everyone claims to care about so deeply and be met with a complete lack of empathy because she isn't likeable enough in people's books. and it's terrifying to me as a woman that if you aren't good enough a person in someone's eyes, you lose worth and people will voluntarily turn a blind eye to your struggles.

[my-darling-seneschal]

somehow I got 95/20 on an assignment

I hope they never fix it and leave it this way forever

[my-darling-seneschal]

rawest fucking hozier lyrics in no particular order:

i’d suffer hell if you’d tell me what you’d do to me tonight

heat of her breath in my mouth; im alive

i’d be the choiceless hope in grief that drove him underground

idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on his sword

and when the earth is trembling on some new beginning with the same sweet shock of when adam first came

every version of me dead and buried in the yard outside

the stench of the sea and the absence of green are the death of all things that are seen and unseen

if I was born as a blackthorn tree i’d wanna be felled by you, held by you, fuel the pyre of your enemies

some like to imagine the dark caress of someone else, I guess any thrill will do

before the wave hits, marveling at god; before he feels alone one final time and marries the sea

betray the moon as acolyte on first and fierce affirming sight

i have never known peace like the damp grass that yields to me, I have never known hunger like these insects that feast on me

screaming the name of a foreigner’s god; the purest expression of grief

sweet and right and merciful, i’m all but washed in the tide of her breathing

but you don’t know the hell you put me through; to have someone kiss the skin that crawls from you

so i try to talk refined for fear that you find out how i’m imagining you

my head was war, my skin was soaked, I called your name ‘til the fever broke

be still, my indelible friend, you are unbreaking

remember me, love, when i’m reborn as a shrike to your sharp and glorious thorn

[my-darling-seneschal]

YOU ONLY KEEP ONE BULL 

(Originally published in Comics For Choice)

[my-darling-seneschal]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Folk of the Air - Holly Black Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Jude Duarte/Cardan Greenbriar Characters: Jude Duarte, Cardan Greenbriar Additional Tags: Hate Sex, locked in a room, Plot What Plot, basically just Jurdan porn, smutty Jurdan, oh God a lot of smut Summary:

Jude. Cardan. A locked room. What could go wrong?

[my-darling-seneschal]

this is the money dog, repost in the next 24 hours and money will come your way!!

[my-darling-seneschal]

requested by @mayyiss

[my-darling-seneschal]

#several points were made

bonus:

[my-darling-seneschal]

Taken from a friend of a friend.

This friend of mine has been very consciously raising her young daughter outside of stereotypical gender norms. They’ve done quite a number on my friend, and she’s like, “Nope, my kid’s life will be different.”

Her daughter is small for her age, and will probably remain small. This has affected her self-confidence. Earlier this year, my friend decided to tell her daughter a slightly sanitized version of Arya Stark’s journey in GoT, to basically demonstrate how a small girl could learn to be badass.

Six months go by, and the daughter turns from 5 to 6. Her mom asks her what she wants for her birthday. The daughter says, “I want to learn how to fight.” So my friend, who has zero martial arts experience, looks up a place, and they go there.

The moment they get there, my friend is thinking, “This may not be the right place.” It’s a Krav Maga/MMA gym. Lots of burly dudes beating the crap out of each other, basically. Not your kid-friendly karate dojo.

But she doesn’t want to tell her daughter that they have to leave because the place is filled with intimidating men – it would pretty much fly in the face of everything she’s trying to teach her. So she says, “Okay. I don’t know if they have a kid’s class here. Why don’t you go ask who the teacher is, and then ask them?”

So her daughter walks up to one dude, asks for the teacher, then gets pointed to this tattooed, musclebound dude with his head shaved and a goatee. As my friend put, “The guy looked like your bigger, meaner younger brother.”

She trails behind her kid a bit, ready to step in, and listens in. Her daughter walks up the guy and says, “Hi! Do you have classes for kids? I want to learn how to fight.”

The guy looks down at this wee little girl, and he says, “Uh, well, no, we don’t really. Maybe I can talk to your mom and suggest some places for you? This isn’t really a place for little girls.”

Her daughter reaches into her jacket pocket, pulls out a nickel, holds it out to the guy and says, “Valar morghulis.”

The guy takes the nickel, looks at it, then says, totally deadpan: “Valar dohaeris. Of course I can teach you.”

The mom comes over and says, “I thought you said you didn’t have kid’s classes?” The guy says, “We do now. Come into the office and we’ll work up a training schedule.” The mom: “Do you have any idea how much it’ll cost?” The guy holds up the nickel. “She’s already paid up.”

[my-darling-seneschal]

Jason Momoa emotionally recalling Emilia Clarke’s deadly brain aneurysms. (x)

[my-darling-seneschal]

Whispered Concessions

Jurdan smut set post-TWK. Angst and fluff are included too. Rated E.

Blurb: Jude. Cardan. A locked room. What could go wrong?

“My sweet irresistible Jude, I’d bet the royal coffers that if I run my fingers down your pussy now, I’d discover that you are dripping wet.”

“Fucking hell, Cardan! Let me out!” Jude slammed her fist against the locked door one more time. No dice.

“Jude, if you’d use your brain for one moment, you’d realize I’m locked in here too.” Cardan Greenbriar is the picture of calm in the other end of the room, a pitcher of wine already in his hand, a glass on the other. In a rumpled tunic baring his chest, and with his hair rumpled, he looked like he was awoken from sleep too. Jude tried not to think about how absolutely delicious he looks.

“There are intruders in the castle who intend to assassinate the High King of Elfhame. If you’d use your brain for one moment, you’d realize that is you. Let me kill them!” She growled, about to turn and face him, then thought better of the action and stared daggers at the offensive door.

“Such ferocity,” Cardan bared his teeth, then slowly smiled. “If only you’d remember that you are the Queen now and I bet they’re coming to assassinate you too. You did barge in here and claimed your crown a few days ago. Think, my darling. I’d hate it if your mind dulled in your time in the mortal world.”

A grin formed on her face as the memory of tossing a few daggers Nicasia’s way once Jude stepped back into the palace for a dramatic entrance. “I am the crown and I pardon myself!” She trilled jubilantly, a magnificent diadem courtesy of Grimsen on her head. She then turned to Cardan, who is for once, sitting ramrod straight on the throne. “Deny me, my darling king. I dare you.”

Cardan had looked like he was experiencing the full spectrum of human emotions: pride, lust, anger, and maybe even joy warred on his face. A few still moments passed, and Jude would not break her stare. “Indeed I could not deny this. Welcome, my queen. All rise for Jude Duarte, consort to the High King of Elfhame.”

The whole court was too stunned to comply. “I said rise, you fuckers. Your queen is here.” A wicked grin slipped into place, and Jude almost gulped at the promised danger in there. Almost comically, the people stood up and bowed, offering felications and praises.

That was three days ago, and they have not spoken since. Jude threw herself into strategy meetings and negotiations and budget planning and even goddamn interior decorating, partly because to prove that she is a more than capable ruler, and partly because she did not want to face Cardan after everything. After her packed schedule, she would sequester herself in her chambers, impervious to the soft late night knocks on her door.

It was only tonight when the knocks became panicked that she threw her chamber doors open to see the Bomb. There were intruders in the castle, guards and a few bystanders already slain. Jude wasted no time in slinging her sword belt and a few daggers on her body, even if she is wearing a flimsy white nightgown. She glided down the hallway, spying the Roach on the end beckoning for her. Approaching him, she opened her mouth to ask where Cardan is, when he abruptly shoved her inside an apparently secret room hidden behind a panel on the wall and locking them in.

And that’s how she found herself in an enclosed space with Cardan Greenbriar. Still resolutely staring at the door, she bit out, “What I do best is fighting. I should be out there managing this threat. Do you understand that?”

The steady glug of wine being poured was the only sound in the room before Cardan spoke, “And do you understand that you are no longer just a seneschal? You are my queen. You stand for something more than yourself; you stand for the stability of this kingdom. You claimed that crown, Jude, now go and earn it. This is what a Queen does.”

Jude absolutely detests that he is right. In all her fantasies and her ambitions, she never thought she’d be queen. She’d always thought she’d be a favored knight, or even a general like Madoc. But never a queen. She never thought she’d deserve it. And now she has to. Even if that meant that she’d have to hole herself up in this godforsaken room.

“Ah, you don’t want to admit that I’m right.” Jude wants to stab the smugness out of him.

“Just like you don’t want to admit that you’re afraid of me.” She could feel him stepping closer. She felt her body tense, she is not ready for this. She is not equipped for this.

“Why are you afraid, Jude?” He is now less than two feet away.

Jude steeled herself. He will not corner her like she is a rat to be trapped. She will not cower. She will not! Quickly, she turned to him, her eyes blazing. “You should be afraid, my king. For I feel nothing but anger for you.”

His eyes are like glittering obsidian, soft and tender. He spoke in a whisper, “Fear, anger. Anger, fear. I have felt so many things for you—anger, hatred, delight. I have been besotted, I have been vengeful. But never, in all these years, have I ever been not interested in you, and what’s going on in that depraved mind of yours. And if that is not love, then I do not care to be educated on another definition of it.”

As always, her first thought is that he is lying. Faeries may be forced to be truthful, but Cardan comes wrapped in deceit. She matched him with whispers of her own. “You banished me. You betrayed me.”

Cardan raised one eyebrow, then haughtily said, “Oh but I think we both agree, you deserved that.”

Jude saw red. Closing the distance between them, she stepped forward and slapped Cardan across his smug face. The contents of his goblet sloshed dangerously.

“Look who got what he deserved too.” It was her turn for a wicked grin. Cardan surprised, Cardan unbound, Jude has never wanted him more than in that very moment.

Looking surprisingly pensive, as if mulling over something, Cardan slowly brought the goblet to his mouth, delicately sipping the wine before placing it back on the table. Jude was relieved, maybe he’d shut up and leave her alone for the remainder of their stay in this panic room.

“You’re wet, aren’t you?”

“Excuse me?”

“My sweet irresistible Jude, I’d bet the royal coffers that if I run my fingers down your pussy now, I’d discover that you are dripping wet.”

That earned him another hard slap. His devilish smile only grew wilder. In a flash, his left arm wrapped around her waist bringing her closer, his right trailing the hem of her short nightgown. Leaving the cloth, his fingers are now slowly traveling between her thighs, inching upwards.

Jude squeezed her thighs close, even as she felt a familiar coil in her stomach deliciously tighten. Cardan clicked his tongue, now pressing his fingers harder to yank her thighs open even wider. He is dangerously reaching her underwear. And she wants his fingers to reach his destination soon.

“Lace, huh? You are temptation reborn.” Flicking the edge of her white lace panties aside, his fingers finally found the proof of her weakness.

But if anything, it was as if Cardan is the one disarmed. His voice dangerously low, he uttered, “Fuck me. You’re even wetter than I imagined.”

Her heart stuttered at his voice, surely he knows he will be the end of her. But first, she has to make sure she’ll be the end of him. Palming his dick, hard and pulsing despite his pants, she rubbed the tip. “You’re exactly as hard as I knew you’d be.”

Cardan smirked. “Evil girl.” He then unceremoniously tears her panties, and entered two fingers inside of her.

“Ahhhhhh!” Her knees buckling, her loud moan filled the room. She spread her legs even wider. Then his thumb brushes her clit, making her moan even louder.

Jude is no longer satisfied with their position. She wanted to crawl at his back, tug on his hair so hard that he’ll moan her name. Most of all, she wanted to moan his name, claim his name like she claimed her crown. Hers, hers, hers.

His arm around her waist tightened as he carried her to the table, her legs splayed over the edge. In an upright sitting position, his erection brushed over her entrance. She rubbed against him eagerly, eliciting a strangled moan from him. His fingers began pumping in and out of her slowly, and the sensation was just so good that she wrapped her legs around his waist.

Looking up, Jude met Cardan’s eyes. They are filled with wonder and desire—as if she was an apparition that could disappear any second. She wondered what he sees in hers. She is suddenly filled with the overwhelming urge to kiss him, to taste the wine from his lips, to banish the lies from his tongue. She kissed him with enough hatred for six lifetimes. He kissed her back with the loneliness of nine decades. His fingers began fucking her in earnest, speeding up while his thumb is still at it at her clit, and Jude’s mouth fell open in the midst of their kiss. “Cardan, fuck, Cardan that feels so good! ” she chanted.

Cardan’s mouth hovered over her ear, and he said, “I know exactly how to fuck you, darling Jude,” right before placing his lips on her neck, creating spots that would surely bruise. The onslaught of pleasure is almost too much for Jude. She can’t believe she is this close to coming.

“Yes, fuck me. Ahhhhhhhh.” Her wetness dripping down the table, Jude could not find the shame to feel bad about it. “Cardan, faster. Faster!” Inserting another finger, he complied to her demands. God, she is so close! Her hips wantonly moving to the ministrations of his fingers, Cardan sensed her impending climax. He tugged on her hair, the action adding to the mountain of pleasure that is building. With a flick at her clit, she exploded.

She screamed his name, clawing at his back. Her orgasm is barely over when Jude decided to flip the tables. Using her arms, she shoved Cardan to the table, and she climbed on top of him. Aligning her entrance on his bulge, she rasped, “Do you feel how wet you’ve made me? It’s an endless want, Cardan. It’s enough to drive anyone to madness.” She rubbed herself along his pulsing erection. Cardan turned red, soft moans emitting from his open mouth.

“And yet, I could spend eternity in this torture,” he replied.

“If you can still speak, I must not be fucking you hard enough.” Jude haphazardly opened his pants, her fist closing around his enormous dick as she guides it inside her entrance without further ado. Sinking down his impressive length, they both moaned. She began to ride him, roughly and loudly. “Look at you, my king, below me and under my thrall.”

With a defiant look, Cardan switched their positions, Jude marveling at his strength. He withdrew his dick, then slammed back into her with force. Jude welcomed the pain, opening her legs even wider. Not about to let Cardan have all the control, she clamped one hand around his throat. If possible, he grew even harder inside her.

Cardan began sucking on one of her nipples, the sensation so pleasurable that she almost loosened her grip on his throat. She is almost on the throes of orgasm again, and she could feel Cardan nearing his own. She slapped him once more, and issued a challenge, “Fuck. Me. Harder.”

With one hand still on his throat, and one hand tangled in his raven hair, Jude held on for dear life as Cardan mercilessly fucks her. “Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude,” he chanted as his pace grows erratic, his fingers touching her clit once again. “Fuck, I’m so close.”

She began kissing his way up his neck until she reached his ear. She whispered, “Come. Now.”

He slammed into the hilt, and moaned her name, coming so hard it triggered Jude’s own orgasm. She clawed at his back, leaving scratches that she is sure must have been to the bone.

A moment after they both stilled, they locked eyes. Jude no longer finds it in her to hate him. For now. “Love, huh?” She tenderly tousled his hair.

“The closest thing I could find,” Cardan held her close.

And so the king and queen of Elfhame surrendered the rest of the night to whispers of wants and admissions of guilt. When dawn came, the Bomb and the Roach opened the secret panel, eager to report the slaughter of the assassins, only to find Jude and Cardan sleeping soundly in each other’s arms.

They both tiptoed out of the room quickly. Everything else can wait.