Sir Ywain the Bastard: BFFs with a lion who may or may not have been able to talk. Very strong and ambitious without giving in to greed. Lost his sanity for a bit but sheer willpower brought it back, and mopped 0 seconds about it, went straight back to decimating ass in the name of justice and to save many numerous dames (honestly, if there was a dame in danger, this guy and his lion pal popped up immediately). Batman if his motif was the lion and also if Albert was a lion. Notable Feat: One of his adventures had him disenchant a cursed maiden who had been turned into a dragon by kissing her three times. That’s right, folks, Sir Ywain smooched dragon girls for reals and you’ll never achieve the heights of his glory.
Sir Percival the Grail Knight: Exceedingly powerful yet never once lorded his immense strength over anyone, and in fact, his impossibly humble nature actually had him act in ways to make others around him seem cooler, even though he was extremely capable. Clad in only a silk dress, Percival once threw a fully armored and armed knight over a castle wall, and this other time, clad in only shitty tin “armor” he made from pots, dddddestroyed an Evil Knight Of Certain Renown and stole his armor. The armor of pots happened because a merchant pulled a fast one over him (he traded his extremely expensive silk and gold-weave dress for a cart of junk), and then defended the man that fucked him over when the town was about to lynch him. Notable Feat: Defeated Sir Lancelot of the Lake (yes, that Lancelot) in fair and single combat, and kept disarming him instead of injuring him. Even then, he kept claiming “oh no, he won, I was just lucky, I am pretty sure he had the advantage” so as to not sully the hero’s name. Oh, yeah, and, you know, he fucking achieved the Holy Grail.
Sir Gawain: Dayman, Fighter of the Nightman, Champion of the Sun, You Are A Master of Karate, And Friendship For Everyone. Good man, very strong, was kind of a dumbass, but that adds to the charm. He’s the kind muscleman that spots for your scrawny ass in the gym your first time and tells you how to do the exercises properly. Most likely to become a good friend in the long term. Notable Feat: His whole fucking life, man. The code of chivalry didn’t actually apply to peasantry, as in, knights were not required to protect peasants at all, yet Gawain was known as the Defender of the Poor. What a fucking stud.
Sir Galahad of Twilight: Galahad gets his own tier because he’s like some sort of Mary Sue that came outta nowhere in late transcriptions of Arthurian Mythos and sort of just was the best at everything ever in any context, which is funny because his father, Sir Lancelot, was more or less the same but actually likable (as in, Lancelot was not part of the original Old Welsh scriptures, and was basically really cool but also had a lot of flaws to his badassery, whereas Galahad is kinda just perfect). However, his divine protection does not allow me to put him at the bottom, for forces that dwarf my comprehension keep moving him up here. Notable Feat: Being a self-insert OC that got accepted in the canon.
Sir Lancelot of the Lake: Goku, but lecherous. Notable Feat: Goku, but lecherous.
Sir Bedivere of the Perfect Sinews: The world’s first slot machine. Went on a ridiculous numbers of adventures in the early game, some of them even with Arthur’s dog, Cavall, and despite having only one arm, m dude was basically a Dynasty Warriors character. Openly practiced witchcraft, which almost got him hanged a couple of times, if it hadn’t been for Arthur’s interference and testimonies to his legitimately good character. Notable Feat: With Cavall the Dog, went on an adventure to kill an Evil Magical Boar and steal its comb, before hitting the boar so hard it fell right into the ocean and drowned, because Bedivere Don’t Fuck Around.
Sir Bors the Younger: Never on schedule, but always on time. Sir Bors wasn’t a superhuman like some of his peers, but his strong point was his virtue and how hard he adhered to the Code of Chivalry, which is more that can be said for a lot of knights, even in higher tiers. A hot young maiden once told him “FUCK WITH ME OR I WILL KILL MYSELF” but he refuse because he wouldn’t break his Vow of Celibacy. The girl, of course, turned out to be a DEMON that tried to trick him. Then, another time, his brother, Sir Lionel, was getting whipped by a notched whip by an assailant while a young girl was being kidnapped by a rogue knight. Notable Feat: He chose to save the young girl over his brother. His brother was Kinda Pissed, so he came back to murder Bors for abandoning him, and Bors didn’t defend himself, saying “yeah I understand why you are angry, honestly”. God himself saves Bors by striking down Lionel with a pillar of fire. Bors then went to be one of the three knights to achieve the Holy Grail (the other two being Percival and Galahad)
Sir Tristan (Or “Tristram” for you historians): Not only was Mister Sadman a capable fighter, Tristan also played instruments and sang, and he was said have a very beautiful voice. The beauty behind Tristan is that he went through multiple trials and tribulations that tested his worth as a person and as a Knight truly (as in, someone who pursues the path of chivalry) rather than his martial might. Notable Feat: Accidentally consumes a love potion with Iseult, who was on her way to marry someone, and he still held onto his reigns as a knight without betraying either chivalry or her love too much.
King Arthur: cuck. Notable Feat: His knights all went on way more exciting adventures than him and his peak is when he gets shanked by his illegitimate son and shanks him back and then spends like fourteen hours bitching at Bedivere for him to go drop his sword in a lake.
pairing: junmyeon x reader, mentions of other members genre: sugar daddy!au, angst summary: money, diamonds, gowns, were they really worth it when they served as a facade to the strict system corrupted by secrets and lies?
A/N: more members are added and focused on in the following chapters, points to you if you can guess who the girl is + the endings bad cos i needed to pee
You were suffocating. The air felt thick, clogging your airway; filling it up yet not giving you relief from the heavy, burdening tension that filled the luxe car completely until it started spilling over the slightly open windows and onto the smooth road. As the car sped down the road, light filtered into the car. Your jewelry covered hand glittered.
Smoothing down the long gown with shaky hands, you shifted around to cover your exposed legs from the long slit.
Junmyeon’s soft voice muffled in your throbbing ears. It didn’t matter though. He wasn’t speaking to you. You would have scoffed if it hadn’t been for your clogged up throat.
“Reschedule the 9am meeting. I’m on my way to Yixing’s event and I haven’t seen him in a while, so I may be out late.”
In such a state, his soothing voice would always calm you yet this time it failed. Knowing he was right beside you heated your body up in an anxious reaction.
He hummed in response to the person on the line, you assumed it was his personal assistant. You gulped down the thickness rising in your throat. “Goodnight,” Junmyeon ended the call, tucking his phone into the pocket of his well tailored suit.
Just as he turned to speak to you, the car stopped outside lavish, tall building. The kind of building that would intimidate you with its pretentiousness had you not been involved with a man with a prestigious reputation. Not even having a moment to calm yourself, your car door opened and someone’s hand came into view to help you out.
Kaidan had gotten so lost, running his fingers through Shepard’s hair, up and down the back of her neck and her upper back – all while she curled up in his lap on the couch in the Starboard Observatory. It almost made reading Spectre expense reports enjoyable.
He looked down at his hand, weaved in her freshly washed and still damp red hair, and smiled. It was always a good day when she didn’t really have to leave his side, aside from a few errands and meetings on the Citadel. She curled into him closer, and rested her head against his lower stomach.
“You know, it’s not that late, Shepard,” he said.
She grumbled a response and curled into him more. She gave him a squeeze, and buried her face into his sweatshirt.
“And by that, I mean, there’s no way in hell I’m doing your Spectre reports for you.”
Shepard let out another sad whimper and shook her head.
“Hey… there’s a report here –,” he started, “Shepard, it’s yours. It’s about your hamster. I’m not filing this.”
She tilted her face up just slightly and rubbed her eyes. Kaidan wasn’t used to seeing her so off her guard, willing to be vulnerable and sleepy. He found it fascinating how he could love her so much, and still be seeing so many different sides of her. I was an ongoing adventure he was excited to partake in.
“Shh… I’m sleeping,” she muttered.
Kaidan nodded. “Uh huh, sure.”
“No, really,” she murmured.
Kaidan looked down again, noting the exhaustion on her face. She could barely open her eyes, and looked too peaceful to disturb any further. He’d been there for all her restless nights, the nights where she tossed and turned and dwelled on all those she’d lost, and those she would lose. Kaidan knew tonight wasn’t going to be one of those nights.
Kaidan went back to his datapad, and sided that curling up for bed was a lot more ideal than paperwork. He slid the datapad onto the table beside them and wiggled himself lower on the couch. Shepard moved on top of him, nestling her head in his shoulder and holding onto him tightly.
Beanie. Mask. Both 100% silk/natural weave. Coat two seasons ahead and more expensive than your car. The piece of multicoloured string wrapped around his wrist costs more than your semester’s worth of tuition. Shoes usually one-of-a-kind or limited edition, priceless, gifted by the shoemaker himself and polished to a shine brighter than your future.
Snapback/beanie + Sweater/hoodie/short coat + jeans + docs. Usually in black/dark colours. Repeat endlessly.
Anything from pyjamas to a coat that looks like someone ripped the pink-white checkered tablecloth off a diner and sewed it into canvas. No discernible pattern. Neck pillow + life-sized, walking Daesung accessory on one arm.
The only one who seems to dress for in-flight comfort. Nearly always dressed appropriate for temperature and weather. Soft, high-percentage cotton fabrics, mask, usually no bag, as he himself oftentimes serves as part of TOP’s airport fashion. Shoes range from vans to soft leather. All comfortable-looking, even his hair.
When he doesn’t have time or doesn’t bother, a tie-dyed wifebeater, shorts and flip-flops. When he does bother, anything up to an all-black ensemble with pointy shoes and leather gloves and hat to match. Radiates a sense of otherworldly peace. Sunglasses and a winning smile. Looks like a CEO no matter what he wears.
Braids lesson lmao: black girls with 'natural' hair (Afro like/extremely curly hair) are often told their hair isn't neat enough for work or school. Braids like cornrows or box braids are used because they're tight and small enough to keep their hair down and out of the way. French braids/Dutch braids came obviously from the white European countries they're named for and are 100% not appropriating black culture (prob won't work well on most black hair anyway).
Braids lesson pt. 2 ✌🏾: the reason it’s cultural appropriation for white girls to wear cornrows/box braids ect. is because even when black women wear those braids they’re hairs still seen as ‘ghetto’/'distracting’ or whatever bullshit. They’re then often forced to conform to euro-centric beauty standards by getting things like weaves and extensions that hurt and are really expensive so they have European looking hair. But when white girls wear those same hairstyles they’re 'edgy’ and 'dope’
Braids lesson extra credit: if anyone’s interested look up what’s going on in South Africa ATM. In schools young black girls are being sent home for their natural hair because it’s “distracting” & all their braiding techniques aren’t appeasing the schools so they’re being forced to chemically straighten/get weaves and other shit just so they can go to fucking school (not shocking because SA is disgustingly racist but still makes me fume. If you ever wanna heat real mad open a history book to SA)
yep yep yep! this stuff is so important (and absolutely disgusting) and it’s really important that awareness is spread and understanding is furthered
So I just got back from my knitting circle (otherwise known as a ‘Stitch and Bitch’)
And you can imagine that most of the ladies there are…old. I’m the youngest person there by at least 40 years, but you know what, I’ve never even come across someone else that shares my hobby for knitting, so there you go.
But as you guys saw, last week, I was displaced due to the fires in my area (and the fact I was the MOH at my sister’s wedding…which went perfectly, like everything in her life, but that’s another story), and all the ladies were talking about all the things they were afraid they would lose after they had evacuated. Most of it was the usual: family heirlooms, pictures of their families, some expensive craft equipment (one lady does competitions for weaving, which is awesome).
Then one lady, white hair and decked out completely in purple, just goes “I had to leave all my divination tools and my altar of prosperity. I was so fucking pissed.”
And it takes me a solid minute of smiling and nodding and knitting before I realized that I was sitting next to a cantankerous knitting witch.
Fucking awesome. You go, knitting witch, you knit those socks of prosperity (or warmth….I think the socks were just for warmth…)
qunari spending their off-work hours rubbing olive oil and raw honey into their hair, washing it with cinnamon and red pepper when they want to lighten it a bit for the summer, chatting about their day as they coat each other’s hair with egg and avocado treatments
tal-vashoth whose hair gets ratty and damaged after leaving the warmth of par vollen and seheron, who have to cut their hair because they’re never able to find the right ingredients in human shops, and when they do, they’re expensive as hell, who maybe invent weaves and hot combs to make their hair easier to manage in the human parts of thedas
vashoth who grew up learning all the little tricks to take care of their hair without access to the oils and plants of par vollen, washing their hair gently with lemon and lavender, lathering it with oats and coating it with linseed oil to protect it
qunari with bantu knots and box braids and two strand twists and dreadlocks and cornrows, who have to wake up early for farming or baking and just shake their heads out, rub in a bit of oil and go
qunari who pineapple or plop their hair at night and sleep with silk scarves around their heads
vashothari keeping silk and satin pillows, scarves, and hoods as an important part of their immigrant culture, giving them as heirlooms to their children and as presents on important festivals and birthdays
just. qunari with all kinds of different curly, coily, kinky hair
It Has Taken Me About 10 Years To Learn To Love My Skin
1. I genuinely wasn’t aware that I was ‘dark’ until people started to
point it out. The earliest and (only) compliment I remember when I was
14 was when a boy referred to me as ‘black beauty’.
considered this an insult. I smiled through it but I remember going home
that evening and crying because that was the day it dawned on me that I
wasn’t like my other black girlfriends. I always figured I was the same
but this time I looked at myself and well, I was darker and because of
this I concluded that I was not as appealing and I was not to be chosen.
The general theme of my teen years was ‘She’s pretty for a dark girl’ -
as though it reiterated that darker skinned girls were not typically
easy on the eye and I reminded myself of this.
(Puts on thick eyeliner - to be prettier for a dark girl)
(Begs mother for expensive weaves - to be prettier for a dark girl)
(Photoshops skin lighter in photographs - to be prettier for a dark girl)
(Becomes the life of the party - to be prettier for a dark girl)
for every boy who offers a little attention - to be prettier for a dark
girl [because humans often want you when somebody else does or when
somebody else wants you])
(Starves self - to be prettier for a black girl)
and so on and so forth.
Half of my family is Zambian. I have these aunts and cousins they call
‘the coloreds’ because of their bright yellow skin. I was always envious
and borderline resentful of their skin tone. How come they had it and I
didn’t? Only as I grew older did they offer me their secret; bleaching
creams. Since they were teenagers these women had been lightening their
skin (to be prettier for a dark girl). It only made me more sad in mine.
I remember my first (real) love. I always thought he was lying when he
called me beautiful. I always thought he was performing when we stared
at me the way he did but looking back, he really meant it. I’m so
grateful for him.
6. The celebration of black girl magic and
melanin is quite literally the highlight of my life thus far. And though
it might seem shallow, and also ironic, to place the bulk of self-love
and self-acceptance in the way people view you, or the way in which you
perceive that they view you, understand -
It Has Taken Me About 10 Years To Learn To Love My Skin
So I’ve seen people bring up the issue that weaves of the Power would be expensive to render in a live action adaptation, but I have a different concern: what the hell do Aes Sedai look like? They’re so distinctive that if you know what you’re looking for you can pick out an Aes Sedai at a glance, but there’s nothing really that concretely different.
To be honest, I’ve always imagined it looking like…well, really good but very obvious CGI. Like the Aes Sedai’s face is rendered in finer detail than the rest of the world, her features moving more smoothly, almost like she exists at a higher framerate.
But if they actually implemented that in the show, it would look hilariously awful and I really really hope they don’t try it.
Summary:You and your neighbour Ashton never really got along until he decided to change that, making you two the most unlikely set of best friends. Both of you are dancing on the edge of desire but the question is, who will slip first?
Word Count: 2.4K
I sat in the room with Ashton for a little while as we unpacked our stuff and unwound on the balcony. I knew I couldn’t hide out here until tomorrow but that didn’t stop me from giving it a good go. Of course mum had popped her head around the door about ten minutes ago though, just to bring me crashing back down into reality.
“I wondered where you two were. Anyway, we’re going to have a laid back dinner this evening. We’re entertaining out in the back garden with some close friends and such that will be attending tomorrow and there’s some caterers who will be set up if you’re hungry. Abigail has been setting up with various workmen so whenever you want to come down and join will be fine.” She smoothed her hands down her dress. She looked lovely, her hair was loosely pinned back, showing of all of the subtle highlights that weaved through it. She always had a lovely style, albeit an expensive one but she always looked nicely put together. Even if it was a pair of jeans and a t-shirt she would always dress it up with jewellery and whatnot. Making it look somehow more elegant than what it was. I was always envious that she had found her sense of style and I was just there mixing and matching whatever I felt like.
“Okay mum, we’ll be down in a bit.”
Ashton waved to her from the balcony before she smiled and closed the door behind her. I walked back outside and sat up on the chair, pulling my legs up with me.
“Well, I guess it’s time to face reality huh” I hugged my legs, leaning my chin against my knee.