Margaery was lounging across the foot of your bed, her hand in yours as she listened to your tale of romance, the way she always had. She knew you were a little boy crazy, and that the knights at court were a common target of your affection, but this one in particular had been a crush of yours for the past few weeks.
“And he was looking into my eyes and told me how pretty he thought I was, and I-” Your lip quivered a little, and you pulled your blanket tighter around your shoulders. “So, I kissed him.”
Margaery was sympathetic to your lovers, knowing that most times your interest in these boys was fleeting at best, and that once you’d kissed them, you seldom looked back, for fear of your father or your brother finding out. “Are you going to see him again?”
You met her eyes, and with a small smile, you replied: “I am. Tonight. We’re meeting in the garden.”
She smiled in response. “Alright. What sort of distraction is needed for your caper?”
With Margaery’s help, you believed the rest of the family would hardly notice you missing.
Your feud with your older brother was well known within the Tyrell family, being twins, you two were often at each other’s throats, arguing and bickering over even the smallest things.
Today, your argument was slightly more private, tucked into the corner of a dancing hall, whispered over glasses of wine. A Dornish noble had come to visit Highgarden, igniting your row over who was to court him first.
“-he’s coming over this way, Y/N, you should fall into his arms again to catch his attention, I’m sure it’ll work this time.” Loras snipped over the rim of his glass, a pleasant smile already in place as the handsome visitor approached.
“Choke and die, Loras.” You responded, your own smile similar to his as you greeted the Dornishman, already vying to gain his favor.
The Unsullied were notoriously stoic, even in the face of great adversity. You’d never seen one cry out in pain, even with blades piercing their flesh, in the heat of battle, they remained composed.
So, as Grey Worm entered your chambers early this morning, you were surprised to seem him bruised and battered, like he’d been in a fist fight only moments ago. “You look like you’ve been through hell.” You remarked, dampening a rag and beginning to clean his face. “Did you at least win the fight?”
“I did.” He replied, his eyes on you, admiring the precise way you tended to his wounds.
“I hope it was worth the bruises.” You teased, with a tiny grin, gently prodding his busted lip.
“It was.” Even in the aftermath, fighting that Dothraki man for disrespecting you would always be the right decision, even if you’d never know it.
You looked up at her from the ground, panting, forehead slicked with sweat, feeling the aching and burning of your muscles as Brienne smiled and turned away, ending your lessons in combat as normal, with you lying on your back, wiped out.
“Better luck tomorrow, Lady Y/N.”
“I bet I could beat you, if I really tried.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “Really? Should we give it another go, then?”
After considering the bruises you were already going to sport tomorrow, you reconsidered. “On second thought, I’ll give you a pass for today.”
Anoymous requested: Can you make a young!tywin lannister x reader where he they meet and fall in love and have sex before the wedding?
warning: brief smut
{I’m on good streak of writing, and since I publish when I finish editing, I’ve been going back to fulfill some of my older requests, and this one caught my interest. Enjoy this energy while it lasts! This is a little break from Robb, hope you guys enjoy!}
Tywin was a rational man. He thought out each step before he made it, each word before he said it, even a sideways glance was calculated and measured to an almost scientific degree. He’d been schooled in the importance of sound decision making, the importance of securing a suitable wife who’s name was as good as her looks. He’d assumed that the wives’ tales of love at first sight were only fables for girls who dreamed of being princesses, and that he would learn to love whoever his family picked for him.
He’d first seen you in the gardens at Casterly Rock, a few days before a tourney, cooing and extending a gentle hand to coax a dove onto your finger, your attention singularly focused on your task.
He smiled a little as he watched you tempt the bird with promises of seed from the kitchens, and laughed as the bird took flight, a string of muttered curses following it into the sky. “You’d do better with a net than your hand.”
{This is one of my favorite series to write at the moment, and since I’m flowing with inspiration at the moment, here’s part three.}
You could feel the tangle of his limbs with yours, and a slight nausea tickling the back of your throat as you rested in the shadow of your ‘reunion’.
Robb had proven a more than able lover, no different than the last time you’d laid together. His arms were snug around your waist as he kissed up your shoulder.
You felt unnerved at how easily he’d grown to trust you, forgetting weeks of torment and misery the moment you’d implied that you had any meaning behind your actions. It was easy being married to him, as easy as breathing, because he so badly wanted you to harmonize with him, he bent over backwards to achieve his intended bliss. In the afterglow, you had difficulty finding your words, but he was quicker to recover.
Donna Tobias – the first woman to graduate from the US Navy’s Deep Sea Diving School in 1975.
Brave women of the Red Cross hitting the beach at Normandy.
Dottie Kamenshek was called the best player in women’s baseball and was once recruited to play for a men’s professional team.
Kate Warne – Private Detective. Born in New York City, almost nothing is known of her prior to 1856 when, as a young widow, she answered an employment advertisement placed by Alan Pinkerton. She was one of four new agents the Pinkerton Detective Agency hired that year and proved to be a natural, taking to undercover work easily. She had taken part in embezzlement and railroad security cases when in 1861 the Pinkertons developed the first lead about an anti-Lincoln conspiracy.
Catherine Leroy, female photographer in Vietnam.
The three women pictured in this incredible photograph from 1885 – Anandibai Joshi of India, Keiko Okami of Japan, and Sabat Islambouli of Syria – each became the first licensed female doctors in their respective countries. The three were students at the Women’s Medical College of Pennsylvania; one of the only places in the world at the time where women could study medicine.
Female Samurai Warrior – Onno-Bugeisha – Female warrior belonging to the Japanese upper class. Many women engaged in battle, commonly alongside samurai men. They were members of the bushi (samurai) class in feudal Japan and were trained in the use of weapons to protect their household, family, and honour in times of war.
One of the most feared of all London street gangs from the late 1880’s was a group of female toughs known as the Clockwork Oranges. They woulde later inspire Anthony burgess’ most notorious novel. Their main Rivals were the All-female “the Forty Elephants” gang.
Maureen Dunlop de Popp, Pioneering female pilot who flew Spitfires during Second World War. She joined the Air Transport Auxiliary (ATA) in 1942 and became one of a small group of female pilots who were trained to fly 38 types of aircraft.
In 1967, Kathrine Switzer was the first woman to run the Boston marathon. After realizing that a woman was running, race organizer Jock Semple went after Switzer shouting, “Get the hell out of my race and give me those numbers.” However, Switzer’s boyfriend and other male runners provided a protective shield during the entire marathon. The photographs taken of the incident made world headlines, and Kathrine later won the NYC marathon with a time of 3:07:29.
{As I was sifting through the mountain of requests that remain, I realized I’d hit a string of Robbs, so apologies if my blog seems a little Robb-centric as I finish up some older requests. The sequel to this has been long requested, so here it is!}
The indifference between the King and Queen of the North was palatable, and uncomfortable for all other parties involved in their extended lover’s spat. He treated you as a token of your father’s loyalty, one that even his tender heart exploited. You publicly questioned his decisions and ability as a leader, which was equally as damaging to his reputation.
The most recent example of this proverbial winter was a meeting of banner-men, during which, you were asked to leave, a first since your union months ago.
You lifted a brow and glanced briefly towards the men watching your reaction, including your father, and back to Robb. “What are you doing?”
He barely looked up from his maps, his posture stiff and unflinching. “I asked you to leave, Y/N. You have no business in our military proceedings.”
[Thanks for the request! Brief strong language warning. Hope you enjoy!]
§
Her sneer was unimaginably cold, and she glared at her father across the table. “What… strategy is this?” Her meal sat abandoned in front of her. “You would make me a hostage, a token of your submission? Marry me to some Stark brat?” She was more Bolton than she knew.
Possible recount in Florida Governor’s race – It’s not over for Andrew Gillum
With 99% reporting, and some vote-by-mail, provisional, and overseas ballots still to be counted, Democrat Andrew Gollum currently trails Republican racist Ron DeSantis by 0.6%.
If once all the votes are counted and the margin is 0.5% or smaller, an automatic recount will be initiated. If the margin is at or below 0.25%, the ballots will be recounted by hand.
andtheytoldustotellyouhello 