This Being The First Thing He Posted

this being the first thing he posted🥹😭

John Everett Millais (1829-1896), “The Order of Release 1746”, 1853, oil on canvas, 73.7 x 102.9 cm. Tate Britain - While married to John Ruskin, Effie modelled for Millais’ painting The Order of Release, in which she was depicted as the loyal wife of a Scottish rebel who has secured his release from prison. She then became close to Millais when he accompanied the couple on a trip to Scotland in order to paint Ruskin’s portrait according to the critic’s artistic principles. During this time, they fell in love. While working on the portrait of her husband, Millais made many drawings and sketches of her.

After their return to London, she left Ruskin, nominally to visit her family. She sent back her wedding ring with a note announcing her intention to file for an annulment. With the support of her family and a number of influential friends, she pursued the case, causing a public scandal and their marriage was annulled on the grounds of ‘incurable impotency’ in 1854. In 1855, she married Millais.

READ MORE ABOUT THE PRE-RAPHAELITE BROTHERHOOD AND THEIR MUSES

really like jaime and brienne's equal tendency to idolise others, yet they keep picking the wrong heroes till they find each other and obviously at first are both going 'well that's not what i think a hero looks like' until suddenly they are each the other's. nice for them

Wow! This is so good. Because it was in character, it started off fun and then it ended sad. Bonus points for including Edric Dayne’s predicament. Sweet boy is easy to forget about.

I don’t know what’s worse...that Bran knows about Jon’s feelings for Arya (yikes!), or that Sansa and Jon’s argument over Arya’s prospects got so heated that Bran and Rickon didn’t even get to talk about theirs.

Siblings...and cousins...amirite?

I enjoy fics where Daenerys and Jon foremost relate to each other as aunt and nephew, and she’s like, “alright he’s my nephew—I have to help him” and everyone’s like “no, she’s going to use him!” but she doesn’t, so Jon reluctantly resigns to this strange new familial relationship.

In this fic, I want to know what Daenerys would think about this. Especially because Jon has got this temperamental possessiveness that I think she’d have remembered in Viserys.

Jonrya AU: Other Engagements

Summary: The remaining Starks gather some time after the Long Night is won to discuss possible plans for marriages and alliances. With Jon crowned King of the Wall, ruling under Daenerys, High Queen of Westeros, discussion of who will reign by his side as queen over the north is paramount. But Jon is not the only wolf for whom a match must be made.

“Proposals,“ Rickon groaned and tossed back his head, auburn curls glinting. "My spear is still crusted with blood, and we’re already talking of politics?”

“And how long a grace period were you expecting?” Arya snorted, shaking her head. Her dismissive words were born partially of relief. 

She had been speaking with the washer women when Jon found her and pulled her away. He had lead her to a small, stony room, recently rebuilt, containing only two windows, a small side table of wood, and her siblings gathered around in a semi-circle as if for a ritual. 

Her hackles had risen in an instant, but Bran had quickly laid her greatest fears to rest. There was no new tragedy to break their hearts, no new disaster to ravage their land; only the tedious intricacies of a civil society.

“A longer one,” the boy groused. Arya imagined that in his mind, there was likely no tragedy more agonizing than such tedious complexities.

“Oh? Are you inconvenienced?” She tilted her head at him. “Shall we postpone rebuilding the kingdom until the armory’s polished nice and new?”

“Can we?” He asked. For a moment it was difficult for her to tell whether he was serious. Maybe the boy didn’t know himself. She cuffed him lightly over the head with a scoff just to be safe, and the grin that broke on his lips was wild.

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Okay but Jaime being the fucking Maiden smitten by Brienne’s bravery and gifting her a fuckin Valyrian steel sword she only brings out for emergencies like girl PLEASE I wonder how aware she is of emulating Galladon and how much is it just Brienne being Brienne the Ideal and Perfect Knight.

Margaery, Alysanne, and Arya: The People's Queens 👸

I know where you were, the queen thought. Her informers were very good about keeping her apprised of Margaery’s movements. Such a restless girl, our little queen. She seldom let more than three days pass without going off for a ride. Some days they would ride along the Rosby road to hunt for shells and eat beside the sea. Other times she would take her entourage across the river for an afternoon of hawking. The little queen was fond of going out on boats as well, sailing up and down the Blackwater Rush to no particular purpose. When she was feeling pious she would leave the castle to pray at Baelor’s Sept. She gave her custom to a dozen different seamstresses, was well-known amongst the city’s goldsmiths, and had even been known to visit the fish market by the Mud Gate for a look at the day’s catch. Wherever she went, the smallfolk fawned on her, and Lady Margaery did all she could to fan their ardor. She was forever giving alms to beggars, buying hot pies off bakers’ carts, and reining up to speak to common tradesmen.

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But the king was deaf to sense, thanks to his little queen. “If we mingle with the commons, they will love us better.” -- Cersei VI, AFFC

*****

It is written that the young king and queen were seldom apart during that time, sharing every meal, talking late into the night of the green days of their childhood and the challenges ahead, fishing and hawking together, mingling with the island’s smallfolk in dockside inns, reading to one another from dusty leatherbound tomes they found in the castle library, taking lessons together from Dragonstone’s maesters (“for we still have much to learn,” Alysanne is said to have reminded her husband), praying beside Septon Oswyck.

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The last years of Alysanne Targaryen were sad and lonely ones. In her youth, Good Queen Alysanne had loved her subjects, lords and commons alike. She had loved her women’s courts, listening, learning, and doing what she could to make the realm a kinder place. -- F&B

*****

Sansa knew all about the sorts of people Arya liked to talk to: squires and grooms and serving girls, old men and naked children, rough-spoken freeriders of uncertain birth. Arya would make friends with anybody. This Mycah was the worst; a butcher’s boy, thirteen and wild, he slept in the meat wagon and smelled of the slaughtering block. Just the sight of him was enough to make Sansa feel sick, but Arya seemed to prefer his company to hers.

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Back at Winterfell, they had eaten in the Great Hall almost half the time. Her father used to say that a lord needed to eat with his men, if he hoped to keep them. “Know the men who follow you,” she heard him tell Robb once, “and let them know you. Don’t ask your men to die for a stranger.” At Winterfell, he always had an extra seat set at his own table, and every day a different man would be asked to join him. One night it would be Vayon Poole, and the talk would be coppers and bread stores and servants. The next time it would be Mikken, and her father would listen to him go on about armor and swords and how hot a forge should be and the best way to temper steel. Another day it might be Hullen with his endless horse talk, or Septon Chayle from the library, or Jory, or Ser Rodrik, or even Old Nan with her stories.

Arya had loved nothing better than to sit at her father’s table and listen to them talk. She had loved listening to the men on the benches too; to freeriders tough as leather, courtly knights and bold young squires, grizzled old men-at-arms. She used to throw snowballs at them and help them steal pies from the kitchen. Their wives gave her scones and she invented names for their babies and played monsters-and-maidens and hide-the-treasure and come-into-my-castle with their children. Fat Tom used to call her “Arya Underfoot,” because he said that was where she always was. She’d liked that a lot better than “Arya Horserace.” -- AGOT