Wasted Afternoons

Claire. Obsessive reader and full time nerd. Sarcastic: (adjective) marked by or given to using irony in order to mock or convey contempt.

[paperypiper-deactivated20210423]

they are still so so dear to my heart

[eerna]

been thinkin about that one painfully domestic scene in SOSN……… her hand gets cold T.T

[windbyfire]

my first time drawing solangelo!! 🙈

[perseannabeth]

color by percyyoulittleshit | lines by anxiouspineapples

a second collaboration between us, this time inspired by Cinderella

[phykios]

the marble king, part 12 [end] [read on ao3] [rated M for adult situations]

Constantinople, 1453

Even here beneath the waves, down in the darkness of the crushing ocean, all she could smell was smoke. War drums still thundered in her ears. On her lips, she tasted blood and salt–though whether it was the seawater or her tears, she could not say. 

But it was not enough that she had failed to defend the city of Constantinople. It was not enough that she had lost her unit to a man, or had abandoned her post, or had allowed the Ottomans through the Kerkoporta on her watch.

Any one of these things would have branded her a failure–but that the wretched, insufferable, intolerable son of Poseidon had borne witness to it all only turned the knife even deeper, salting the wound and taking pleasure in her misfortune.

To be reduced to a weeping woman like this, taking refuge in his embrace, it was disgraceful. It was nearly as painful as the loss of the city. 

The city… gods above, the city.

The heart of the known world. The defense of Europe. The last gasp of the Roman empire. 

Gone.

And all that was left of it was him.

And so she clung even tighter. 

Keep reading

[greenconverses]

fic: ‘tis the damn season

rating: teen pairing: percy/annabeth notes: This is part of the roman!Percy AU I have, but you don’t have to read the main fic to get this one. support: ko-fi

summary: Percy had been warned, months ago, that a daughter of Minerva was skulking around New Rome. He’d meant to check up on her, but her file had quickly disappeared under the pile on his desk and she had slipped his mind. Until tonight, when she’d somehow ended up in his arms, both of them caught under a sprig of mistletoe. ‘Tis the season indeed. read it here

wrote a holiday AU of my AU and named it after a brand new tswift song, i do what i want 

[gokushairgel]

Baby it’s Covid outside

[sethkiel]

Have yourself a merry little Christmas

Just these three spending Christmas eve together. I love them. 

[gatovtina]

Winter as Snow White ✨

[gokushairgel]

Acquarium date (“stop gossiping guys, I can hear you you know”)

[shanlightyear]

The Lunar Chronicles: A Summary

[windbyfire]

when percy was studying for his exams // annabeth is usually the ‘teacher’ but she can also be the distraction

[dahliaisdarling]

Friendly reminder that Percy likes it when Annabeth is happy. 🥺

[blvnk-art]

“My Anne with an E”

[thorndale]

[…]They say the more you have of it, the more you want, and the more you ache when you can have no more. And yet… I have always thought—is not knowing what it tastes like just another form of torture? The torture of wondering?

Cordelia Carstairs and James Herondale by @cassandraclare

[attndotcom]

A brilliant explanation of consent for anyone who STILL doesn’t get it. 

[bolontiku]

Never not reblog

[catherine-the-great-tv]

Anna Karenina & Alexei Vronsky in Anna Karenina. Vronsky story (tv mini-series, Russia, 2017)

[swimthroughthefires]

#men undressing women: [drakeNO.jpg]#men assisting in dressing women: [drakeYES.jpg]#he’s really concentrating in getting those laces sitting right#what a good boy#anna karenina: vronsky’s story#gif harrietvane

[drownedinlight]

On of the things that I learned in high school, which was just one of those facts that was just kind of like, “Yeah?” but is also one of those facts that you rarely see represented, that it does sort of startle into this idea of “wait, is that right.” Men absolutely helped their wives and lovers dress, especially in times when dress had become complicated enough that women could not get dressed alone (ties and buttons that had to fasten in the back for one reason or another, for example). If a woman didn’t have a servant to help her dress, and most women did not, it was the job of her husband once she was married.

[blood-head]

This leads to the interesting trope of a husband discovering his wife’s lover’s handiwork, for example in this 1840 illustration from Paris le Soir. The caption reads: “That’s funny! This morning I made a knot in this lace, and tonight there’s a bow!“