Hector loved Andromache
But in the end he let her face slide from his mind
He came back to her sightless
Strengthless expressionless
Asking only to be washed and burned
And his bones wrapped in soft cloths
And returned to the ground.

Alice Oswald, Memorial

(via elucipher)



Romeo and Juliet

- Oedipus


- Europa

- Apolonas and Dafni

Svetlin Vassilev

(via elucipher)

Holiday exchange


If you are interested in taking part in this years sansa_sandor fic and art holiday exchange there is a sign up sheet up now. Everybody is welcome to join in, the more the merrier. If you have any questions feel free to message me on tumblr or LJ.





I live in Osaka, Japan and often use the subway to go to work in the morning. One day while I was waiting for the train, I noticed a homeless man standing in the corner of the subway station muttering to himself as people passed by. He was holding out a cup and seemed to be begging for spare change.

An overweight woman passed by the homeless man and I distinctly heard him say, “Pig.”

Wow, this man is insulting people and he still expects them to give him money?

Then a tall businessman went by and the man muttered, “Human.”

Human? I can’t argue with that. Obviously, he was human.

The next day, I arrived early at the subway station and had some time to kill, so I decided to stand close to the homeless man and listen to his strange mutterings.  A thin, haggard-looking man passed in front of him and I heard the homeless guy mutter, “Cow.” Cow? The man was much too skinny to be a cow. To me, he resembled a turkey or a chicken. A minute or so later, an obese man went by and the homeless man said, “Potato.” Potato? I was under the impression that he called all fat people “Pig”.

That day at work, I couldn’t stop thinking about the homeless man and his puzzling behavior. I kept trying to find some logic or pattern in what he as muttering. Perhaps he has some kind of psychic ability. In Japan many people believe in reincarnation, so maybe he knows what these people were during a previous life. I observed the man many times and began to think my theory was right. I often heard him calling people things like “Rabbit”, “Onion”, “Sheep”, or “Tomato”.

One day, curiosity got the better of me and I decided to ask him what was going on. As I walked up to him, he looked at me and said, “Bread.” I tossed some money into his cup and asked him if he had some kind of psychic ability. The man smiled and said, “Yes, indeed. It is an ability I obtained many years ago, but it’s not what you might expect. I can’t tell the future or read minds or anything like that.”

“Then what is your ability?” I asked eagerly.

“The ability is merely to know the last thing somebody ate,” he said.

I laughed because I realized he was right. He said, “Bread.” The last thing I had eaten for breakfast that day was toast. I walked away shaking my head. Of all the psychic abilities someone could have, that one must be the most useless.




(via tree-house-of-the-mind)

kitamere asked:

Mostly the Highlands. The only city we’ll be in is Edinburgh. My idea of a good time is swanky lodgings, good food, peace and quiet.

Maybe you’ll see some beautiful castles

Hopefully I’ll make it to Eilean Donan on my way to the Isle of Skye. If so, I’ll be sure to send you a little something from there :)

titaniumginger replied to your post: Postcards from Scotland…

Oh that sounds like a wonderful adventure! I hope you have a great time out there! Will be looking forward to seeing your pics!! *and would love a post card too if you can spare one!*

But of course you’ll get a postcard! I’m excited just to get away from work let alone the other things.

weshallflyaway replied to your post: Postcards from Scotland…

Me me me! Take photos of highland cows!

I’ll try to find some cute baby stuff from the Isle of Skye so that Kian has something of his mother’s motherland.

zsra187 replied to your post: Postcards from Scotland…

Ooooh, have a lovely time! Just think - when you arrive in Scotland it might be the first time in over hundreds of years that it’s an independent country! (or at least, made the decision to be independent!)

What strange times for the UK. I’m looking forward to trying some of those Scottish baked goods that they show on the GBBO like the buttery and the clootie dumpling (though do people really eat these things anymore?)

adksansan replied to your post: Postcards from Scotland…

have a wonderful time!!!! Can’t wait to see the photos :) I think you will be getting a lot of requests for the cards, so I will save it for somebody who hasn’t been there :)

Thank you for all your help! 

chaouenmadrid replied to your post: Postcards from Scotland…

enjoy a lot! I hope you delight us with beautiful pictures of your travel. I’d love to visit Scotland some day too.hugs!

PM me if you want a hello from the Highlands postcard ;)


They Watch The Night

Got prompted to write some SanSan poetry which I haven’t done in forever so I figured I’d let the creative juices flow. I was going to create a graphic to go with it but I couldn’t be bothered so instead did some illustrations which took several hours..? Logic never was my strong point.

Not 100% happy with this, might redo..

what a lovely poem and accompanying illustration


How to pick the mushrooms the hard way in Russia:

You wake up at 5 am (even though you were up late the night before either playing cards or strategizing on the best mushroom places to hit) and march everyone out to the SUV (any other car won’t do, as 1) you will have plenty of baskets at the end of the hunt, so you need the space, and 2) you will go off-road to your secret spot)) together with the wicker baskets and a cooler full of food and drinks.

You may be feeling generous and pick up a few friends along the way. These folks must be trustworthy individuals, or else you risk revealing your secret spot to the masses. Competition is bad in the sport of mushroom hunting and you view everyone, every car as an “enemy”.

You start a long drive to the secret location. Yes, it is true that there are plenty of mushrooms near your country house, but everybody else goes there, so you know there won’t be anything left for you, and besides, you know of that great other spot, who cares that it is an hour away??? You sneer at every car in front of you and mutter that they must be going to the same spot as you. You feel tremendous relief when they leave the road. You feel gutted when you arrive at your secret spot and see a dozen other cars.

At the break of light, everyone runs into the forest, ready to “kill’. You feel nervous that you will come home empty-handed or that others have picked up all the good stuff. You do not say hello to anyone you meet in the forest or smile. You are focused and everyone else is your competition and therefore, by default, an enemy.

First person to find a “good one” gets congratulations from others, but everyone is jealous and feels the pressure. The hunt is on and your group spreads out. You try not to be distracted by the late season of blueberries and the lingberries. You feel a huge sense of relief when you find your first prize of the day. You cut off the stem (being careful not to disturb the mycelium), check for worms,  check nearby and if it is an especially fine specimen announce the find louder than usual. You comb every section of the forest. The mushrooms are known to hide and it is a fact that they will be hiding until a “right” person passes by.

The leader marches you through the forest and you zigzag through the section chosen for the attack that day. You sneer at the latecomers, thinking that they won’t find anything after you pass by. They give you dirty looks, thinking that you have “stolen” all of their mushrooms. You take it personally if they find something in the area you were sure of checking thoroughly.

After hours of running around, your group decides to retreat to the car. A tally is conducted and a winner is announced. Mushrooms found to be infested do not count. You spread out your baskets (for others to see and envy) and enjoy a well-deserved lunch of sandwiches, chocolates, fruit and boiled eggs.

Once refueled, you decide to go at it again. You go to another secret spot, and the process is repeated. Only difference is that you sneer at the traffic and assume that these are the people who are coming back from a mushroom hunt (and by default, have taken the mushrooms from the forest that is rightfully yours for the claiming).

The easy way:

You come back to the country house and fire up the barbeque. You enjoy your kebabs, then decide to venture into the forest behind your house to walk the dinner off. In half an hour, late in the day, you pretty much find the same quantity of mushrooms as you did earlier in the day, only then you had to drive more than hour, walk for hours, and wake up at 5 am. You call the leader of the morning adventure and brag. They curse you (in a friendly way of course) and threaten not to ever invite you along.  You decide not to taunt them much further and avoid sending the photos of the evidence.

The day after:

You sort, clean, cook and preserve. Your nails are shot, but if you are lucky, you have a fry-up, a soup and a pile of dried mushrooms for winter.

And that is precisely how I spent one day during my incredible trip to St. Petersburg J

photos from the city will be posted starting tomorrow

is that you kissing a mushroom?

Postcards from Scotland…

Leaving for Scotland in the next two weeks. I’ll be doing a self driving tour of Edinburgh, the Highlands, Isle of Skye and perhaps the Hebrides if time permits. Send me a PM or ask if you’d like to receive a postcard from me!

I’ll try to post pics of my adventures while I’m there (tmobile has free international data - definitely the carrier of choice for travelers).


I am back and looking in horror at my inbox at work. Thanks everyone for the notes! I have mailed out the cards 2 weeks ago, so I hope they will be making an appearance sometime soon :)

I will be posting lots of photos this week, be on the lookout! But probably none today…

Welcome back! Can’t wait to see your photos of St. Petersburg!



Was this really necessary? 

Yes. Yes it was.

This is always necessary.  Dr. Malcom’s chest find-…finds a way.

(via seananmcguire)



An illustration from my upcoming Sansan illustrated novella, Marching Song. An epistolary smutfic with all illustrations by Bubug. Coming to fandom by Christmas 2014! You can read the WIP text on A03. Thank you for all your great reviews. Here are some of my favorite comments from the latest, Chapter 6:

zsra187: I didn’t think you could ever write anything hotter than Running Hunting, but you’ve managed it. Jesus Christ, this was so fucking hot

snuhutek:  and when I thought nothing can make me blush anymore, here you came. wow much hot. so sexy. such rude but so sweet.

coveredincleganedna: I’m in a smut daze. Who knew a letter could turn me (and Sandor and Sansa) on so much!

@thecakeconundrum: This story is absolute perfection.I can’t begin to describe how excellently you’ve managed to portray both the lustful, desirous feelings Sandor has for Sansa, alongside the more poignant and meaningful emotions too.

I will forever reblog this because the art is so beautiful and I’m excited for the book.




Every time Steve Rogers has sex, a bald eagle is born

No wonder they’re endangered.



Inspired by x and x.

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