#and what's ironic is that she knows nothing about the things she's talking about (marriage pregnancy and relationships)

[konigsblog]

who’s pick me pearl??? 😭😭 at first i thought the anonymous was referring to pearl from the movie pearl

this is pick me pearl ↓↓ she says things like, ‘women shouldn't be equal to men’ and ‘abortion should be illegal’ (and refuses to acknowledge young rape victims getting impregnated by their rapist because "that's less than 1% of cases!")

just a lot of anti-feminism bullshit. she's right-wing, fs. i'll list a couple things she's said below:

“16 year old chicks are hotter than 26 year old chicks” she has said before. (wtf 😬)

says that cheating isn't a big deal.

if your husband gives you an STD, then you should stay with him.

she downplays domestic abuse.

says that marriage isn't supposed to be equal.

says that you're only hot in your 20s, and said that you're not wanted in your 30s. (she's 27, and hasn't ever been in a serious relationship before, or at least to my knowledge. clock's ticking, babe).

[mythicmanuscripts]

Hi,just wanted to ask if you would be able to write about people reacting to Aegon in displaying PDA with either his wife or lover.

Like the touches are not sexual but like lingering and innocent, people can see how in love they are or how deep their connection is.

It can also be a brothel worker (I love your latest piece of work) that he cares deeply for and wouldn't mind showering her with affections as she did him.

Anyway, just saying your writings got me into knowing the dom and sub in a very gentle and comfortable way. Love you!

I'm so glad to hear you enjoy my content!! Also yeah I love when dom/sub dynamics can be so gentle and sweet and very very healthy and communicative. Loads of people tend to think that BDSM is purely slapping people and calling them whores but that's not even close to the truth. In case you guys couldnt tell I am most certainly a certified soft dom and service dom.

Anyway, I love this idea! I think I'm going to write this with Aegon and his wife instead of brothel worker? I'm very happy to do a brothel worker one if you guys would like I just think he concept makes a bit more sense with wife!reader. If you have thoughts about this with brothel worker!reader and how that would work then feel free to let me know!! I'd be happy to explain on it.

Back to the point, there's nothing too explicit in this answer so no cut to hide behind, but it's very clearly sub!aegon so bare that in mind before you decide to read :))

I've said this before and I'll say it again: at first your marriage with Aegon is like any other arranged marriage and you're only seen together when absolutely necessary. But then you start to get to know each other and your dynamic starts to become more dom/sub and from there he is absolutely OBSESSED with his wife and everyone knows it.

So the PDA starts once the dom/sub dynamic has been sorted out.

As we all know, Aegon is very needy. He's a needy, jealous kinda pathetic little thing and he wants nothing more than to watch his wife be so much smarter than him and get to be her little gremlin cheerleader who followers her around and has no thoughts whatsoever. Now obviously he's the actual king so he needs to be seen a little more in control than that, as Allicent is always reminding him, but that's not to say he actually tries to seem that way.

If you're in public with Aegon then you are always next to him. If you get called away and are gone for more than a few minutes then Aegon will start looking for you because where are you??!! You're his wife!! How are you be away from him for more than a few minutes!!

He's been known to come up from behind you and wrap both his arms around your waist, hugging you from behind and resting his head on your shoulder while you're talking to someone else. He won't actually contribute to the conversation and if the people you're talking to try to include him he simply won't respond. He's not there to actually joint the conversation, he's there because his wife is!

When he's holding court, Aegon will never allow you to be standing with all the others below the thrown. Historically that is where the queen consort has always been, standing with the other ladies of the court while the king sits on the iron thrown.

Before you two became closer you wouldnt even attend Aegon's court and he didnt care. But when you start to get closer and you start come to court, he point blank refuses to let you stand with all the other ladies. You're the queen!! What are you doing down there???

The first time this happens, you had spent the night with him and he asks you to come to court with him. You agree of course, and you enter the thrown room together. He walks as he usually does and goes up the stairs to the thrown. He turns around and he's about to sit when he realises you arent with him. He looks around and sees you've moved to the side with the other ladies of the court.

"What are you doing over there?" Aegon asks you. He tilts his head and chuckles because he thinks it's absolutely hilarious that you'd actually think you had to stand there with all of them. He tells you to come up with him, and you do walk up the stairs to the thrown but when you get there you simply speak softy to him, reminding him that there's only the iron thrown and not anything else to sit on so you ask if he wants you to stand next to him for the entire thing.

Obviously this is unacceptable to him. He would never make you do that.

He ends up insisting you sit on the actual thrown and he literally just sits on the stairs besides you. Everyone, including you, doesn't know what to think of this but Aegon has no issues whatsoever. Honestly he's very happy sitting on the stairs and listening to all the different things people come to him about. Very often he'll look up at you, silently asking for your opinion and when you do start speaking, he doesn't look back at the person you're speaking to but instead he keeps his eyes on you. He looks so very clearly in love and in awe of you and pretty quickly everyone gets used to it.

After that court day you try to suggest he gets another chair next to the thrown or something but he actually refuses? He really likes sitting on the stairs, likes that you get the thrown. When you try to tell him that you're not sure if that's even allowed he simply reminds you that he's king.

Pretty soon all the paintings of Aegon during his reign are actually him on the stairs with you on the thrown, many of them show Aegon looking up at you and not even looking straight ahead.

That really shows everyone what your dynamic is. You're always calm and collected and very kind when needed. Aegon, meanwhile, is utterly obsessed with you and is always looking at you like he's in awe you're actually his wife.

Of course you're also always holding hands when walking together, or linking arms.

[k9iriz]

𝐟𝐢𝐱 𝐦𝐞

18+, [ ♫ 𝘵𝘰𝘹𝘪𝘤 - 𝘬𝘦𝘩𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘪 ]

𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳/𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘴 𝘬𝘦𝘭𝘤𝘦

𝘴𝘺𝘱𝘯𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘴: 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘨𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘸𝘰, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘹𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘶𝘥𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘪𝘳.

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: 𝘴𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘭𝘰𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘺 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 & 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥, (𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘥𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘺 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬, 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 “𝘥𝘢𝘥𝘥𝘺” 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘬, 𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘴𝘦𝘹!/𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘶𝘱-𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘶𝘥𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘹 𝘴𝘦𝘹)

i entered the house silently as i threw my pink-designed purse on the counter, my pink steve madden heels clicked on the marble floors as i heard a bag being thrown on the floor, a pissed sigh and a rough opened fridge door in the distance as i walked upstairs, slamming the door shut, locking it.

“what happened?” you ask.

travis was mindlessly talking to a woman—who was clearly flirting with him, attracted to him.

noting he was already neglecting me, in my mind, he was more busier than usual, on the road 24-7 even on his free days.

it raised so many eyebrows, the mindless kind and sweet gestures stopped, the phone calls got shorter, not even a full “i love you” would come out, or his responses would be dry and simple.

behind that anger was me, the love of his life,his wife who just wanted some affection, some tlc.

but hey, who’s marriages are perfect?

i showered alone, soonly lathering myself with lotion as i heard the doorbell jangle, soonly it got rough, like he was gonna break the knob off the door.

“y/n, quit fuckin’ playing and open the door.” travis blasted from behind the door, making me jump, rolling my eyes as i traveled back into the bathroom, combing my hair down.

“get away from the door, i don’t got shit to say to you.” i smartly responded, before he began picking the lock, randomly.

i sat in a white beater, my nipples grew harder as i stared at him, rolling my eyes.

“why do all of that if you was gonna pick the lock, stupid?”

travis chuckled as he walked towards me, picking me up as he sat me on the counter, standing between my legs.

i froze.

“you been bitchy with me all fuckin’ day. what’s the issue?” travis spoke simply, not breaking eye contact with my eyes at all.

i felt something tingle at the bass in his voice, the firmness and seriousness.

“you should know why. flirting with bitches in my face. then on top of that, you got the nerve to come in like nothing hadn’t happened. mistreating me, like i don’t got feelings.” i completely sassed back, folding my arms, my eyes still gazed on him.

the tension intensified, apparently just leaving it silent.

“that’s what you’re mad about baby?” travis spoke again as if it was ironic i was pissed about the obvious.

“no fuckin’ shit.” i barked back as travis gripped my neck, pulling me more towards him, our chests touching.

“oooo, you’re so sassy aren’t you? calm down.” travis annouced, making my eyes advert away from him.

“look at me y/n. just listen.” he spoke out as i huffed, rolling my eyes.

“no, let me go. go flirt with whoever the fuck—she was?” i smartly shoved his hand off my neck, jumping down from the counter as i bent over, looking in the sink cabinet.

“maybe i should do the same thing, go out and ask a dude questions who’s actually in love with me—or maybe flirt with him in your fucking face.” i ranted along as travis eyed me after the last statement.

“stop it y/n.” travis warned under his breath.

“or maybe kiss him, but nooo, I made vows to stay loyal to you, you! then neglect you in the process and not give a fuck about whatever is waiting for me at home, hm?” i ranted, pushing at his chest as i slapped it, soonly the anger turned into tears.

travis took it in, and realized what ive said…knowing he was wrong, but your attitude was just clogging his head in order to comfort you.

“im sorry baby, and you know it. listen to me, quit cryin’.” travis sighed as he pulled me into his chest, just sniffling into it.

“imma make it up to you. i won’t do it again, i promise. just let me.” travis smoothly talked to me as i nodded, easily forgiving him once again- before pulled away quickly.

“ugh, why did i just forgive you that fast?” y/n shook her head, mouthing to herself, wiping her tears as she leant over, travis coming from behind pushing me all the way down.

“trav, let me up!” i whined loudly as i instantly got quiet, the slap on my ass was enough to quiet me within one.

“y’aint gonna be satisfied until i put that ass in place, hm?” travis gritted as he ran his hands all up and down my ass, gripping it, caressing it all in one.

i bit my lip to silence my moans, or any sexual that could possibly come out.

“lift up, and spread em, baby.” travis mumbled as i obeyed, practically falling more in love with my husband, and he hadn’t even did shit yet.

travis slowly began stripping himself as i slightly grabbed onto the counter, feeling himself slightly fill me up & stretch me in the process as he shoved my hand off the edge.

“don’t hold onto nothin, i got you.” travis grunted as his strokes started off mildly slow—my light moans leaving my mouth.

“oh baby…” i hissed, as his eyes never left mines from the mirror, skin clappings filling the big bathroom, bouncing off the walls like music.

travis didn’t let up, slightly gripping the ends of my hair, smoothly gripping my neck as my hands touched the mirror, my mouth falling at all the pleasure I had felt in that moment.

“mnm, you see that? that fuckin’ ring? that’s all fuckin’. mines. say it.” travis gritted in my ear as his hand collided with right ass cheek, making eye contact from my upside down vision, whimpering, gripping his hand.

it felt like heaven.

“mnm…it’s yours baby, all fucking yours! ouu—ouu shit!” i whimper-moaned the last part, gritting my teeth as my mouth gaped open.

travis kissed me every chance he got, as he slapped my ass again, as i began matching his rhythm even on all fours standing.

“uh—-uhhh huh-im gonna cum.” i groaned out, as a whimper, feeling myself push back at his chest, grabbing my arm, holding it in place.

i lost it.

“what?”

“im gonna cum, i w-wanna cum.”

“y’ain’t loud enough for me, baby, what’s that?”

“im finna cum!” i whine-cried, closing my eyes shut as he slapped my ass cheek once again, groaning at the sight of me painting his dick pure-white, soonly hearing droplets hit the marble floor.

“you squirtin’ baby?” travis was suprised but wasn’t, as i went silent, my eyes rolling into the back of my skull, just babbling sweet nothings as i let it all out, saying his name under my breath.

“let it all out. mhm. such a good girl for me.” travis encouraged and praised me as felt him pull out, slapping my ass as i weakly held onto the counter, feeling him take me onto the bed.

A SHORT TIME LATER, the skin clappings surfaced the room as my knees touched my chest, my legs opened wide as i the white creamy-wet sight glistened my vision as i held onto his hand, as his other was forcing my head to watch the sight underneath me.

“ouuu—daddy! fuck me just—like that! mhm yes!” i cried out as he didn’t allow me dip my head back not once.

he was enjoying this all at once.

“you like it huh?”

“mhm, it’s so big baby.” i teased as i but my lip, looking up at him. just a undone slut.

my eyelashes were practically sweating off with my makeup and hair, i looked sweated out, along with him.

“you gonna cum for me again, baby?” travis bit his lip at me as i nodded, his hand collided into mines as his strokes remained rough and tact.

“yes daddy, mnm it’s all yours, i love the way you fuck me, mhm.” i whined again as i looked up at him, feeling him swirl his hips, slightly his strokes got sloppier.

his grunts, groans and moans grew louder with every messy stroke he sent as his chest touched mines, feeling him sloppily kiss me, mixing some salvia and tongues with it as well.

“cum in me, give it to me daddy.” i moaned in the kiss as i wrapped my legs around his waist as he grunted fully in my mouth, before sitting up, pulling out, letting a loud “pop!” sound full the air.

straight creampie. “you still gotta attitude with me?”

i shook my head as i smiled, looking down at the oozing cum from my thigh. “no.”

[ HEY YALL. MERRY CHRISTMAS. 🎄 I HOPE YALL GOT YOUR NFL MAN UNDER YOUR TREE BC I DID! ]

not proofread — • so excuse mistakes.

[iiseult]

𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒯𝓌𝑜: 𝒜𝓈 𝒬𝓊𝑒𝑒𝓃 𝑜𝒻 𝒥𝑒𝓇𝓊𝓈𝒶𝓁𝑒𝓂

CWs →  fluff, ANGST, historical inaccuracies, slow burn, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, eventual smut (once reader and baldwin are both over 18), leprosy, time-period accurate sexism, arranged marriage, descriptions of birth (not the reader), blood and mild gore (they don’t call it the dark ages for nothin!), one-sided pining

Wordcount: 5.1k

Note: Remember like three weeks ago when I lied to you all and said I’d have this out in a few days? I had to plan out a bit of the actual plot so that’s what took me so long. But I finally did it, so eat up! Also, I really do NOT know how medieval royal weddings worked but the shallow google searches I made weren’t good enough so let’s all hope this isn’t horribly inaccurate, though I’m sure it is. Do we care, chat?

Every day leading up to the wedding was a day that you saw red. Greeting your traitorous mother in the mornings made you see red, sharing a meal with your power-hungry father made you see red, and listening to the two of them prattle on about how you ought to behave once you were queen? That turned the world absolutely crimson. Each night, you crumpled up and clutched your skirts under the dinner table with shaking fists, creasing them with deep wrinkles that would take days to iron out, but all the while you continued to hold your head high, speaking only when spoken to just as you were taught as a girl. Your strained, thin-lipped smile was only let go of in the privacy of your own bedchambers, when it was replaced with a cold expression and even chillier disposition. Somehow, drifting apart from your family day by day wasn’t as painful as you had imagined it would be. It was easy, really, because there was nothing left for anyone to talk about. After all, your mother had always taught you that if you had nothing nice to say, you shouldn’t say anything at all. However, your sudden “demureness and obedience”, as they put it, did not go unnoticed. 

Your parents were positively delighted with your recent change, or “improvement,” in attitude. Your lady mother congratulated you for finally agreeing to fulfill your societal role as a subservient wife and mother– an aspect of life of which you had previously been a bit resentful– and your father perpetually reminded you how beneficial this marriage would be to the rest of your bloodline. Even your younger brothers seemed excited for you, constantly coming up with new questions to pester you with regarding life as royalty. The only thing keeping you sane was the knowledge that soon you’d be living far, far away from your conniving parents, free to do whatever you wished. Whichever benefits a royal connection brought them would be nothing compared to your own guaranteed lavish lifestyle. You’d soon have your own castle, your own servants, and even your own soldiers! Oh, and the husband, too. You kept forgetting about that part. 

In some ways, the fact that he was a leper was a great relief to you. That meant you’d most likely be spared many of the wifely duties you had so been dreading; mainly, consummating the marriage. At your age, only 14 years old yet, there was nothing that interested you about the male body, giving birth, or raising children. It was not so long ago that you had helped raise your own little brothers, and the idea of going through all of that again made you feel so trapped. Not to mention the fact that giving birth was extremely dangerous. And painful. And frightening. That thought caused a memory you had been repressing for years to resurface from the depths of your mind, like a buoy in the ocean. It was the tortured screams of your mother the night your youngest brother was born. Had you not known better, you might have thought she was being ripped in two, and the labor lasted for so many endless, terrible hours, which felt more like days. You remembered the midwives rushing around, and the maids leaving your mother’s room with armful after armful of blood-soaked sheets and sloshing buckets of burgundy water. As they passed the place where you were hugging your knees in the corridor, a drop fell at your feet and sunk slowly into the stone floor, leaving nothing but a small round stain. 

Once it was time to leave your family home for the castle, you said goodbye to the view from your window, which you had become well-accustomed to. It was probably the thing you’d miss most, besides your brothers. You closed your bedroom door for the last time and meandered down the familiar, dimly-lit corridor, taking note of the particular stone which was still adorned by that tiny dot of brownish red. A shiver ran down your spine. You opted out of doing a final sweep to make sure you’d packed all of your belongings, because soon enough, you’d have better things to replace them with, anyway. The knights they’d sent for you had loaded your bags onto their horses about an hour ago and set off for your new home. Now, the only thing left to transport was you. 

Another knight was waiting for you outside with a large white horse. He watched as you hugged your mother and father stiffly, pretending not to notice your mother’s tears as she kissed you on the forehead like she used to when you were younger. Before you were a lady. Before you were the queen of Jerusalem. Your father said nothing, but his somber expression and the distant look in his eyes and the loose grip he had on your hand as he kissed the top of it told you everything you needed to know. The knight helped you mount the horse and get comfortable sitting behind him, and you waved goodbye to your family as you were carried away, truly intending it to be for everything you had ever known. But whatever sadness you might have been feeling was overpowered by sheer determination. Now, at 14 years old, your life was finally beginning.  

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

The knight who sat in front of you on the horse did not turn out to be a very good conversationalist. The only responses you could draw out of him were along the lines of “Yes, Your Majesty,” or “No, Your Majesty.” You were hoping for someone a bit more…engaging, perhaps, as you were feeling an odd mixture of excitement and anxiety that grew with each and every gallop towards Jerusalem. And anxiety always made you talkative. 

“Is it fun at all, being a knight?” You shouted over the clip-clop of the horse’s hooves, breaking the long silence that you had been enduring since the beginning of the journey. 

“I beg your pardon, Your Majesty?”

“You know, protecting the kingdom and such. Isn’t it exciting? I find the idea to be absolutely thrilling! Don’t you think so?” 

He paused for a moment, and then replied flatly, “Yes, Your Majesty.” 

You pursed your lips, waiting in silence for a few moments, expecting him to elaborate, but no such luck. Was it really so hard to share a gory battle tale or two to pass the time? You knew knights were known for having excellent integrity and virtuousness, meaning they would never say something that could potentially scare a lady, but couldn’t he humor you just this once, while you were alone? But maybe he doesn’t want to talk about it, you thought, imagining how burdensome it must be to know the feeling of cutting someone’s head off. So, you graciously changed the subject and mentally patted yourself on the back for being so kind and just. It simply wouldn’t do, as future queen of Jerusalem, to force sensitive information out of this poor, traumatized knight for your own fleeting amusement. Maybe a few months earlier and it would have been acceptable, but alas. You sighed.

“This noble steed of yours is breathtaking. Does he have a name?” you questioned, admiring the animal’s snow-white pelt, entranced by the way its powerful muscles rippled beneath it.

“I do not know, Majesty. This horse belongs to the king. It is the only one His Majesty trusts, so he instructed me to collect you using it.” Another memory flashed through your mind, this time of your first meeting with your future husband. He had been riding this very horse that day, its stunning color matching that of his robes. Your heart fluttered at the idea that he’d cared so deeply for your safety, although it shouldn’t have surprised you. It was not as if he had parents forcing him into this marriage. He was accepting you in holy matrimony for some other reason, a reason entirely of his own. His own choice. A blush crept up the back of your neck, and you were suddenly thankful for the fact that the knight was facing away from you. You cleared your throat nervously. 

“Well, what’s it like, working for the king? Is he nice?” 

You felt the knight’s huge sigh before you heard it, your arms that were wrapped around his midsection rising and falling in tandem with the breath. 

“Yes, Your Majesty, the king is very…nice.”

“Is that all?” you muttered, rolling your eyes at his reservedness. You got the hint. You understood he didn’t want to talk, that much he had made very apparent, but that was just too damn bad. As queen of Jerusalem, you wanted to get to know your subjects, and who better to start with than the one sharing a horse with you? 

“Will I have my own chambers, or shall I share with the king?” You asked, holding back a giggle at the expression you were imagining the knight had on his face. 

“I am sure you will be provided with your own chambers, Your Majesty, but the choice of whether to use them or not will be entirely yours and your husband’s,” he replied, a hint of dry humor in his voice. You let out a loud laugh, which actually startled him a little, and then followed it up with another. 

“I wonder if he snores!” you said, between giggles. The knight smiled, shaking his head. After that, the journey to Jerusalem was easy. 

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

The next time you laid eyes on the king was when you were getting married, standing opposite each other in an architectural marvel of a cathedral, both dressed in extravagant clothing and expensive jewelry. His silver mask had recently been polished, and it shone beautifully in the sun, but still not as beautifully as his blue eyes. They were as you remembered them, only a bit brighter. His gold-trimmed robes were as white as ever, freshly washed and perfumed for the occasion. Even the gloves on his hands looked new and clean. You admired them as the priest rambled on in front of you. If God was listening right now, you thought, he’d surely be bored to tears. There was one part of the day you had enjoyed, though, which was the preparation for the wedding. You had been doted on by countless maids all morning, lining your eyes with black powder and weaving your hair into an intricate, interlocking braid pattern. The gown was altered to fit you perfectly, and the large, bell-like sleeves fell around your arms like wings. You were finally beginning to feel like a real queen. 

The ceremony seemed to drag on forever, but you passed the time by maintaining eye contact with King Baldwin. You drowned out the rest of the world and focused only on him. When you smiled, he smiled back. You could only see the corners of his eyes crinkling, but you knew what that meant. You cocked your head to the side, trying to imagine what his smile really looked like. During that evening you spent with him, you hadn’t gotten the chance to see it. Just as soon as he had taken off the mask, he had to put it back on. The consequences of your parents seeing Baldwin’s face would have been disastrous, but thankfully, their loud footsteps and jovial voices had carried quite well down the corridor, warning you of their arrival. Regardless of how short they were, those few seconds you’d spent admiring his bare face were enough to conjure up a half-formed image of what his smile might look like. However, that image disappeared when you saw him cock his head to the side, too, just as you had. You blinked twice. 

He blinked twice, too. 

Was he copying you on purpose? 

You shifted your feet, and he mirrored you, his robes shimmering like the ocean as they fluttered around him. You bit back a giggle. He was. Flames of mischief danced in his eyes, and something else, too, ignited there when you grinned at him. 

“…that these rings shall forever remained blessed, O Merciful Lord. Amen,” said the priest, approaching the king with a book, two rings laid on top of it. Suddenly, Baldwin became very serious, plucking one of the rings between his slender, gloved fingers and holding it gently. You stared as it glistened in the sunlight, which was penetrating the stained glass windows and casting colorful shadows around the altar. He slowly stepped towards you, making your heart begin to beat faster. His head stayed bowed as he presented you with his open palm. You held your breath and lifted your left hand, gingerly brushing your fingertips against his palm, now understanding what was about to happen. He effortlessly glided the ring onto your fourth finger, where it rested beautifully. The diamond glittered like water, mesmerizingly. Baldwin wrapped his fingers around your hand, now holding it as gently as he could, and the priest was now presenting you with a ring. You followed Baldwin’s lead, pushing it onto his fourth finger, which was waiting outstretched for you patiently. You stood mere inches apart, fingers of your left hands interwoven as the priest finished the prayers. The ring, as breathtaking as it was, was somehow still only secondary to the cerulean eyes of your now-husband, which were like two rich sapphires lined with delicate blonde hairs. 

“…And may God bless, preserve, and keep you, that you may have life and love everlasting. I pronounce that you now be man and wife together, in the Name of the Father, Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.”

The cathedral filled with polite claps and murmurs of “amen” as Baldwin released your hand and you turned to face the pews. Next to you, much to your surprise, he quickly dropped to his knees, his body angled towards you, clasping your fair hand between his. You gazed down at him through your lashes, suddenly feeling your cheeks burn. Boldly, Baldwin drew one hand up to his masked face, grasping it by the nose and swiftly pulling it to the side so that it was hiding his face from the crowd, but revealing it to you. He lifted your hand to his pink lips and pressed a searing kiss to it, liberally letting the physical contact linger, all the while maintaining eye contact with you from under his furrowed brow. You covered your mouth with your other hand to try and hide the toothy grin spreading across your face. He saw it anyway. The next thing you knew, he was grinning, too. You tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear and laughed. He laughed. You realized that you no longer had to imagine what his smile looked like. 

After the wedding ceremony, you were promptly bombarded by happy civilians wishing to congratulate you, or simply to catch a glimpse of their new queen, and Baldwin was whisked away by his mother, who seemed to be perpetually by his side. It seemed that she was not quite ready yet to surrender the role of Baldwin’s caretaker to you– but you had no gripes with that. You figured you’d grow into the role of loving, doting wife, as opposed to starting it right away, and unfortunately, the idea of changing his bandages each night before bed still made you shudder. In reality, his mother was not exactly thrilled about the marriage, either. She hadn’t found you or your family quite noble enough for her precious son. However, she was smart enough to see that it was unlikely that anyone else would ever volunteer their daughter to marry a leper, so she begrudgingly allowed the union. 

From the crowd, two plainly dressed women had introduced themselves to you as Matilda and Amelia, claiming that they were to be your servants. They would apparently be with you at all times, tending to your every whim and aiding you during your ascent to the throne, as well as bathing you and dressing you. Matilda was an older, more severe woman who had immediately intimidated you; her lips were drawn together thinly and permanently pursed, creating deep wrinkles around her mouth, and the rest of her face was an intricate web of creases and lines. Her graying hair was pulled back tightly, exposing her thinning hairline and sun-spotted forehead. Even her hands looked harsh, the skin rough and dry, cracking in some places, like mud that had been baking under the summer sun for too long. Amelia was quite the opposite; a timid, pretty young thing with wide brown eyes, fair hair, and a delicate frame. She’d barely had the courage to tell you her name, and rushed into the curtsey to avoid having to make eye contact with you for too long. She seemed to be around the same age as you, if not even younger.

After the attendees from the wedding had mostly dispersed, Matilda brought you back inside the castle to finally see your bedchamber, which you were to have all to yourself. She and Amelia led you through winding corridors and beautiful flowering courtyards, pointing out all the most significant landmarks along the way, such as the great hall, the kitchen, the maid’s chambers, the library, the chapel, the towers, the gardens, and the hundreds of guest bedrooms with conjoined washrooms. The last thing she showed you before your own room was the king’s quarters, which were directly across from yours. 

“Now, Amelia, go draw us a bath. There’s no need for two of us to be standing around here idly while the Queen inspect her chambers,” she ordered, and Amelia nodded, scurrying away to the washroom silently. 

As Matilda threw open the giant oak doors of your room, you couldn’t help but gasp, suddenly rooted to the spot. It was glorious. Taking up the majority of the room was a massive bed with four handsome posts, all carved with intricate floral patterns and stained a deep brown. The mattress was topped with overly-stuffed burgundy throw pillows and a comforter to match. Connecting to the four posts was a frame, from which wine-colored velvet curtains hung to give you some privacy. The same fabric was used to shroud the windows, which were floor-length and leaded. At the foot of the bed lay a pile of bags and wrapped items– all of your belongings from home! On the wall across from them was a large dressing table, covered in jewels and precious metals and bottles of fine-smelling oils. A small, round stool with a cushion on it sat underneath. Your eyes sparkled with excitement, and you couldn’t help but abandon Matilda in the doorway, running and throwing yourself face-first onto the bed, just like you used to at home. You giggled and kicked your feet up into the air, unsurprisingly beginning to sink into the plush mattress. Immediately, you felt your body melt against the malleable, pillowy surface, deciding that you definitely approved of its fine quality. Your bed from back home simply couldn’t compare. However, your glee was short-lived, because it was abruptly interrupted by a stern voice. 

“Your Majesty! You must cease this behavior at once and right yourself! That wedding gown is priceless, and you mustn’t risk causing it any damage!” Matilda scolded, pulling you up by the arm and frantically kneeling to check the delicate garment for any possible tears or imperfections. You winced and apologized quietly, suddenly feeling embarrassed at your juvenile behavior. She was right. As a matter of fact, most things in the palace were probably priceless, and it wouldn’t do to act so impulsively, to be so unladylike. Even you, in your youth, knew better than that. You crossed your arms over your chest, beginning to feel rather insecure upon realizing just how much you had to learn about life as royalty. 

“Come, child, it is time to undress. You must be bathed and prepared for your wedding night,” Matilda called, holding out a hand, her voice much more soft and gentle this time.

You gulped, not wanting to think about that, preferring to cross that bridge when you got to it. She bustled over to the magnificent dressing table, pulling out the stool for you to sit on. You obliged, seating yourself in front of her and watching in the mirror as her spindly fingers deftly unwound your intricate braids. It was relaxing, the feeling of her experienced hands nimbly dancing around your scalp, so you let the buildup of tension from the day slowly seep out of your muscles, loosening up more and more every second that passed. Soon, she was finished, and helped you to your feet, ordering you to keep your arms out straight as she undressed you. She pulled out pins from here and there, untied laces all around, and in a matter of minutes you were ready for your bath. 

The water was warm and steaming as you stepped in, your skin breaking out into goosebumps at the feeling. Rose petals floated across the surface of the water, giving the entire washroom a fresh scent. As you expected, Amelia was waiting for you silently, brush in hand, ready to scrub you vigorously from head to toe. You braced yourself, expecting the rough bristles to be painful, but once she began working attentively, it wasn’t so bad at all. Yes, they were scratchy, but that’s exactly what you needed to get rid of all the dirt and dead skin. She lathered you in delicate smelling soap and added some more fragrant oils to the water, letting you soak until your skin had absorbed all the moisture it possibly could. Not a single inch of you was neglected by the time the water had grown cold, at which point you got out and were dried with a fluffy white towel. 

Next, you were ushered back into your chambers and changed into a pretty blue gown made of satin, which apparently “complimented the color of the kings’ eyes perfectly,” according to Matilda. You felt your gut twist at the mention of him, at the prospect of being alone in a room with him and that piercing gaze again. Now that you were man and wife, everything was different. You had a duty to fulfill, and it seemed to be unavoidable, despite how young and vulnerable you were. Despite how averse to it you might be. Your mother had told you all about it, about how it would only last a few minutes if you were lucky, and that you just had to breathe deeply and count the seconds until it was over. How it happened to every woman at some point in her life, and that what follows would be completely and utterly worth every second of endurance. How rewarding it was to raise a child, or two children, or as many as your womb could bear. But no matter how much you tried to reassure yourself, you were still scared. You didn’t want that yet. You were only 14. 

But before attending to your marital duties, first, there was dinner. You were seated at the complete opposite end of the table as Baldwin, as far as physically possible away from him, despite the fact that he was the only person there you had ever spoken to. You were too far away to be able to tell if he was even looking at you from under his mask. Next to him was his mother, who proceeded to shoot you sideways glances the entire night. The rest of the table was filled with noble men and women whom you did not recognize, their titles unfamiliar to you and the lands they hailed from even more obscure. You picked at your food and tried to stay as silent as possible to avoid making a mockery of yourself on your first night as Queen of Jerusalem. Sooner than you had hoped, dinner had concluded, and you were taken aside by Matilda, who pulled you into an empty corridor as the guests began filtering out of the castle. 

“Child, do you know what is expected of you on your wedding night?” She asked, her voice low so that nobody except the two of you could hear the subject matter at hand. You took a deep breath and straightened you back in an attempt to appear more mature, before replying, 

“Yes, I will lie down and be still and hope that I am blessed with a child.” 

The woman smiled at you and clasped your shoulder, seemingly approving of your answer. 

“Exactly right, my dear. The king will call on you when he is ready, so you may go back to your room and occupy your time with an activity of your choosing until you are collected.” 

You nodded solemnly and thanked her before slowly making your way back to your room, trying to take as long as possible in an attempt to actually slow down time. Upon deeper reflection during this walk, you came to the conclusion that it was not being alone with the king that you were afraid of, but rather the act of consummating the marriage, which was, of course, something he had every right to do with you that night. It was the correct course of action. It was what all newlyweds did, no matter how young and afraid they were. Did he know what he was doing, you wondered, or was he just as oblivious as you? You couldn’t imagine the young king being oblivious about much of anything, in all honesty. He was far too intelligent– something you had seen for yourself over that game of chess. 

Once you arrived at your room, Amelia was waiting at the door for you, an even more wide-eyed look on her face than usual. Uh oh, you thought to yourself. 

“His Majesty the King has requested your presence in his chambers, Your Highness,” she said quietly, bowing her head as she spoke. How did he get here so fast? You thought to yourself, terror rising in your chest. Amelia watched in half fear and half amusement as you frantically wiped your clammy hands on the bodice of your dress and ran your fingers through your hair, which was cascading down your shoulders freely. She was young, too, and unwed, and the idea of a wedding night was something that made her stomach churn as well, so she offered you a sympathetic look and watched as you dragged your feet across the hall, knocking on the imposing oak doors of the king’s bedchambers. 

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

Baldwin had never been so jittery in his life. As he sat on the edge of his bed, waiting for you to arrive, he fidgeted with his gloves, pulling them off by the fingers and then pulling them on again, over and over. All throughout dinner he had been gazing across the table at you, ignoring his mother’s neverending ranting as you stared down at your plate. Though you were only a blue blur with a vaguely maidenlike shape from where he was sitting, he was still completely enchanted, his heart beating in his throat every time you looked up in his general direction. He wondered if you could tell he was looking at you. Since the hour you were wed, he was able to think of nothing but you; your dazzling smile, your gorgeous hair, your playful sense of humor, the way the light in the cathedral illuminated your eyes. As the servants bathed him in strong-smelling medicinal herbs and wrapped the raw areas of skin with fresh bandages, he daydreamed about your voice, your laugh. And now, as he sat on the edge of his bed, awaiting your imminent arrival, he thought of practically everything except you. 

He panicked about the state of his body, the pressure of consummating a marriage, the burden of fathering a child at such a young age. He panicked about the weight of ruling an entire kingdom all by himself, no longer able to entrust the brunt of the work to Raymond, and of being a suitable husband. He panicked about how many years he might even have left, if his illness continued to progress. But every worry, every fear, every doubt left his mind as soon as he heard you knock on his door. 

He leapt to his feet, hastily pulling his left glove all the way back on and bounding over to the door, throwing it open wide with a grin on his face, to reveal… you, standing there, gaunt and sweating, looking like you had just suffered a bout of cholera. The smile on his face fell a bit, but it couldn’t be wiped completely clean. At least he could finally be with his bride, his love, his queen. 

“Good evening, Your Highness,” you murmured, your head bowed, pointing down at your shoes, as well as the freshly polished ones directly across from you. 

“Good evening, my Queen,” he breathed, heart beating quickly as you shuffled into his room. He closed the door behind you, letting it shut with a ‘click’ before following you over to the middle of the room, where you hovered like a ghost, still staring at the ground and clasping your hands tightly in front of you. A tense, silent moment passed, and still, you didn't move. Whatever was left of his smile faded from his unmasked face, and the panic from earlier began to return, crashing over him in icy waves. Why wouldn’t you look at him? He cleared his throat, shifting his weight from leg to leg. 

“Are you feeling very well tonight, my lady?” He asked tentatively, shuffling a bit closer. 

You sucked in a sharp breath and suddenly turned, stiltedly making your way over to the bed. 

“Let’s just get this started then, shall we?” You said tersely, laying down on your back on the plush covers and screwing your eyes shut tightly. 

“I am ready.” 

King Baldwin stared at you blankly, frozen in the middle of the room, and completely panicking. No, no, no, this was all wrong, this was not how he wanted it to go…he absolutely did not want to force you into it, to do anything you didn’t also want…and you clearly didn't want it. You were lying there, as stiff as a board. This was the final straw for him.

He wasn’t ready for it yet either, he decided. He would just have to lie to his mother. When she discovered that the queen was, in fact, not pregnant, he would blame it on his own body, claiming to be infertile. It was probably true, at any rate. He took a deep breath, feeling shame and embarrassment at not being able to consummate his own marriage rise to his cheeks, and spoke three words, 

“You may go,” 

And those were the last three words he spoke to you for the next three years. 

Note: I'll give you a kiss if you can count how many times I reference you being the "Queen of Jerusalem" in this chapter.

[drakaripykiros130ac]

“The Greens are political masterminds compared to the Blacks.”

How many times have you heard this bullshit?

Their political incompetence is exactly what cost the Greens their victory in this war, and what gained Otto Hightower the gold medal in the “worst Hand in the history of Westeros” Olympics. And if you ask me, Criston Cole should have the silver for that one.

So, we’re talking about a faction who has been plotting to usurp the rightful heir, Rhaenyra Targaryen, for many, many years. They had so much time to prepare, and so many advantages: Alicent being queen and Otto being Hand, not to mention Rhaenyra and Daemon were away on Dragonstone for many years.

The Hightowers could have swayed things in their favor before Viserys’ death, and failed. They had to shuffle about, beg the Tyrells, send Aemond to Storm’s End with marriage promises etc. all after Viserys died. Lol. What have they done during those 10 years Rhaenyra was away on Dragonstone? They sat on their asses and did nothing. Not even prepare their puppet, Aegon Hightower.

Now, let’s list the Greens’ many, many mistakes:

1. Usurping the throne, instead of minding their own business and returning to Oldtown. Alicent doomed her entire line (children and grandchildren) with her schemes and thirst for power.

2. Not having Aemond and Daeron married by the time of the Dance. Boy, they really blew it with this one. Aemond was 20 when the Dance started and Daeron was 16. They could have been well married by the time Viserys died, and the Hightowers could have secured great alliances in time.

Rhaenyra’s sons were much younger than Alicent’s, and yet years before the Dance, she had Jacaerys and Lucerys betrothed to Baela and Rhaena, securing the Velaryons (a great power House) on her side for good. And certain people still have the nerve to say she did nothing.

Not having Aemond and Daeron married by the time of Viserys’ death, was a missed opportunity, which proves Otto and Alicent’s stupidity. They had the power, and Viserys was easily swayed, and they still screwed up big time.

3. Failing to get the support of their own liege lords, the Tyrells.

4. Failing to get the support of the Red Kraken and by extension, the Iron Islands. I mean, so few people realize that Daemon was the politically savvy one, knowing how to turn the Red Kraken against the Greens by appealing to his thirst for bloodshed. The Greens offered him the position of Master of Ships and he refused them, in exchange for a chance to stick it to the Lannisters. So basically, Daemon offered the Red Kraken nothing, compared to the Greens, and still managed to sway him to his side. That must have been so embarrassing for the Greens 😂.

5. Killing Lucerys. *claps* Well, done, Aemond One-Eye idiot. Before this, Rhaenyra was still determined to make peace with her half-brothers and half-sister, despite the usurpation, but not after they shed first blood and murdered her son. Hell no. Even Alicent and Otto were angry with Aemond for this one, because they knew how badly they screwed up.

The problem is that both Otto and Alicent lacked the intelligence to keep a bloodthirsty, idiotic maniac like Aemond in line. Not to mention that the one on their team holding their only ace-card, Vhagar, was this bloodthirsty, idiotic maniac.

6. Aegon Hightower choosing Criston Cole as his Hand. 😶 When I first read this part in the book, I was shocked. Definitely did not see that coming. Dismissing Otto as Hand (for the second time), I understand, considering that he really exudes incompetence. But what exactly went through the usurper’s puny brain when naming Cole as his Hand is beyond me. He is a military man. He is no political mastermind. Far from it. He is dumb as wood. He spent his entire career life kissing Alicent’s behind and only rising in ranking because of his hatred for Rhaenyra (because a young girl of 14 refused his advances).

There is a reason why Rhaenyra chose Corlys as her Hand, and not Daemon (like everyone expected her to).

Criston Cole led his forces in the Riverlands and got himself killed when facing the Winter Wolves. He didn’t even use his position as Hand. He just wore the pin.

Seriously, this has to be one of their dumbest moves. If I were in this usurper’s position, I would have chosen Tyland Lannister as my Hand, certainly not the overly subjective and creepy Incel who kisses my mother’s behind for a job.

7. Burning the Riverlands…for no good reason. *claps* Once again, let’s applaud Aemond’s idiocy. Basically, he decided to burn the Riverlands because their lords sided with Rhaenyra. That’s it.

Because of his stupidity, he basically secured the entire Riverlands on the side of the Blacks even after Rhaenyra’s death. The Riverlords fought for Rhaenyra’s son instead of agreeing to make peace with the Greens.

8. Choosing the Triarchy as an ally. What exactly made them think that they would gain any points by allying themselves with a great enemy of the people of Westeros? These are foreign savages that Daemon and Corlys have been fighting for years, and the Greens got in bed with them. Bringing an army of dangerous foreigners in a civil war is high treason against the Realm.

9. Burning Bitterbridge. The Reach was the Hightowers’ home, and not only did they fail to gain the support of the Paramount House there, but they also turned many of their bannermen against them. Well done. *sarcasm*

10. This one is one of my favorites: trusting the Goldcloaks. Otto Hightower knew perfectly well that the Goldcloaks were Daemon’s men, and despite making some changes and putting his son, Gwayne, as second in command, Otto still managed to get played and the Goldcloaks turned on the Greens when Daemon arrived in the capital.

The smart thing to do would have been to disband the Goldcloaks when the usurpation happened. The decision to keep them lost the Greens the capital.

11. Proposing to call a Great Council only when realizing that they were losing. So, once Rhaenyra took the capital, only then, did Alicent propose to call a Great Council. Why couldn’t she suggest that before usurping the throne? Alicent’s stupidity got her the nickname “Queen of Chains”.

12. Trusting the Dragonseeds who betrayed Rhaenyra. Seriously…how stupid could they be? Don’t they know that people who betray once have a tendency to do it again??? The Two Betrayers wasted no time and turned on the Greens soon after because they wanted the throne for themselves.

13. Trusting Larys Strong. This creep got his own family killed for the sake of power. He has no morals and is just like Littlefinger. Once he realized that the Greens were losing, Larys turned on them and most likely participated in poisoning Aegon the Usurper.

14. Refusing to name Aegon the Younger heir and sue for peace with the Black armies after Rhaenyra’s death. This basically guaranteed the Greens’ permanent defeat.

15. Trying to convince her eight year old granddaughter to kill her husband lost Alicent any freedom rights after she lost the war, and she spent the rest of her life in isolation and madness.

So, seriously, people who say that Otto and Alicent are politically intelligent need to get a clue and read the book.

[aliciavance4228]

Unpopular Opinion: Demeter Did Nothing Wrong

Alright, maybe the title isn't 100% accurate since she almost wiped the entire human race from earth, but you got the idea.

The thing with Demeter is that nowdays she is demonized/villainized all the time. And the most ironic part is that she is demonized by feminists, which leaves me quite confused, considering the fact that she would technically be a great example of female strength, especially when raporting to "Homeric Hymns to Demeter". But before discussing the myth of seasons, let's talk about her background story:

One thing that is certain about Demeter is that she had horrible experiences with almost all men from her life. Her father ate her. Poseidon raped her disguised as a horse. Zeus raped her as well (which led to the birth of Persephone). Iasion was one of the few men from her life who loved and respected her, and whom she lived with for a while before Zeus became jealous and killed him; yes, he is THAT much of a d-

The only one of her brothers who didn’t hurt her in any way at that time was Hades. And if you take into account the versions of the myths in which Hades was born before her that means that he was the one who took care of her as well during the time when they were trapped in their father's stomach. So it is pretty much implied that he was the only one of The Big Three whom she trusted the most, which makes the discovery that he was the one who kidnapped her daughter even more tragic.

Now, about "Homeric Hymns to Demeter": first of all I want to point out the fact that this myth isn't about Hades and Persephone. They are mostly mentioned in this story rather than actually playing an active role in it, because they have more of a symbolic value above it all. Wheter Persephone came to love Hades in time or despised him for the rest of her eternity is irrelevant, because this myth is not about her but Demeter.

Demeter had already faced some disturbing experiences even before Persephone was kidnapped. And considering the fact that her own daughter was a result of SA, it makes perfect sense why she would be protective towards her and raise her outside of Mount Olympus; every woman that was raped would fear that her daughter would face the same cruel fate.

About the abduction part: it is revealed to us at the beginning that Hades asked Zeus if he can marry his daughter, and he agreed. Hades only needed the approval of the father in order to wed her. Back in the Ancient Greece, especially in the Athens, people had a very patriarchal view on marriage. On short: the marriage would be usually planned between the groom and the father of the bride, her mother not knowing anything about what was going on until her daughter was already taken away from her. This myth is a representation of how the Patriarchy was a dominant system even among deities, with Zeus as its supreme figure.

At this point, the myth of seasons can be already considered a comfort story for mothers who had to endure the loss of their daughters either through death or marriage. This myth, however, has a lighter note as well, and that because Demeter, instead of accepting the fate of her daughter, left her anger free and did anything she could so that she would ultimately convince Zeus to give her daughter back, the last solution being leaving hundreds of humans dying of cold and hunger. This part basically shows how even a patriarchal figure like Zeus can be defeated by a mother's rage (or pure female rage, take it as you wish). Even though this myth is supposed to tell us just how seasons appeared, it can also be used as a moral lesson for men: it is better to consult with your wife and daughter before making a decision, or else there will be GREAT CONSEQUENCES.

And finally, one moment that is indeed very touching yet most people are ignoring for some reason is when her mother Rhea appears in front of her and starts to comfort her after she found out that Persephone ate the promeganate seeds, showing how a mother's mouring over her daughter was a common feeling among most female deities from Greek Mythology.

Now, is Demeter perfect? Absolutely not. And that is okay, because instead of that she is supposed to show in this myth a lot of humane and realistic nuances about what being a woman is like. She is a complex character, and completely demonizing her just because you ship Hades and Persephone is quite disturbing in my honest opinion. Wheter or not you like this couple (I won't condemn you because they are still one of the most stable relationships from Greek Mythology, but that basically shows just how f*cked up myths are in general lmao but anyway....), you have to understand the fact that the "Beauty and Beast" and "A mother's love will always conquer" are two tropes that can co-exist, and that things aren’t just black-and-white.

[sunny44]

Marriage (Part 4)

Pairing: Max Verstappen x ex fiancée!reader Mason Mount x Fiancée!reader

Warnings: nothing I guess

Summary: Max leaves his fiancée y/n at the altar on their wedding day but after years of regretting what he did, by a miracle of fate (or Lando) she appears in his life again.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

I wasn't at all comfortable with having that letter in our house.

My fiancé lives in the same place where the letter from my ex-fiancé/almost-husband was, I didn't have the courage to read it even though I almost did on the day he gave it to me, so I kept it on my bedside table where I knew Mason wouldn't touch it because it was as private to me as his was.

Mason had been invited to Barcelona that weekend to watch the Formula 1 race and he was trying to convince me to go with him.

"Please, love, I have a ticket that I asked for especially for you because I know you enjoy watching Formula 1 with me." He said, taking my hand. "I don't understand why you don't want to go, is something wrong?"

"It's not that..."

"Then let's go, please?" He asks, holding my face and pouting.

"All right." I give in and he smiles, kissing me all over the face.

"Then pack your things because we're going tomorrow." He says excitedly, leaving the room.

I knew it was wrong to be with him for years and to be engaged to him and leave that part of my life hidden, I love him and he's great but something in me doesn't want him to know because I don't want him to do the same thing as Max, I don't know if I could get over it if it happened again.

But I knew I'd have to tell him at some point and I decided I'd do it after the weekend.

...

When we got there and got ready to go, that's when Mason handed me the Redbull passes.

"Here." He puts it around my neck and kisses me, taking my hand and then we enter the paddock.

It was obvious that the first thing we were going to do was go to the Redbull garage and see Max.

Since the day he gave me the letter, I haven't said anything to him, firstly because I haven't read it and secondly because I don't know if I'm really going to talk to him.

We talked with Max and Checo for half an hour until Mason came up with the idea of walking around the paddock and even if I didn't want to, I'd give anything to get out of there, so that's what we did.

"Are you excited?" He squeezes my hand and smiles.

"Actually yes, thank you for persuading me to come." I said sincerely, since being here even with everything was really nice.

"Max is nice." He comments.

"Yes, he is." I smiled and gave him a kiss. "Where are the boys?"

"I think Ben and Reece went for a walk too."

"I'm hungry." I say and he laughs.

"Really?" He says ironically and hugs me and spins me around and I start laughing. "Let's eat then."

…

We were in the garage looking at the end of qualifying and then Mase came out to hand the tire to Max, my stomach flipped when they both smiled for the photo and I swear I could have fainted right there.

"Are you okay?" Christian asks from beside me.

"What?" I asked, startled.

"Are you okay? You look like you're going to pass out any minute."

"Yes, I'm fine."

"Look, I know about you and Max." He says, catching me off guard. "I remember you from a photo he carried everywhere."

"What photo?"

"It's a picture of you two hugging, I think it was the day he proposed to you. He used to say it was the best day of his life and so he carried it around everywhere, telling me the story of what happened to you."

"Can you not tell anyone? Please."

"I won't, I promise."

"Thank you."

"Seeing him together can't be the best thing for you."

"Certainly not."

"I don't think he knows and that's why you're upset."

"Yeah, I didn't think my old life would collide with my current life. I never told him because I didn't want him to do the same thing Max did to me."

"I'm sorry about that."

"You don't have to be, it's not your fault."

"But I'm sorry." I turned and saw Max standing there. "I'm sorry you feel that way."

"Look, forget it, okay?" I said, but he followed me and grabbed my arm. "Can you leave me alone?"

"What else can I do to make you forgive me?"

"Nothing, I don't want you to do anything." I say and then I stared to go.

"Why is it so hard for you to forgive me?"

"Because I can't forgive you, okay? If I forgive you, that means I'd have gotten over everything you put me through and I haven't, so that's why I can't forgive what you did."

"Can we at least talk?"

"No, I'm not going to do that here in a place full of reporters so they can put me in the spotlight, so can you just accept it and let me be happy?"

"Fine, I won't bother you anymore." He says, walking away and leaving me alone.

...

We were back at the hotel and I was just finishing my shower and when I came out of the bathroom Mason was looking seriously at his cell phone.

"Is everything all right?"

"Max posted a photo thanking the fans for the pole position and I commented and ended up seeing a comment below talking about you and Max." I closed my eyes and sighed. "Can you explain to me why someone said that missed you two?"

"Mase I..."

"You were his fiancée?"

"Yes."

"And why didn't you tell me?" he says calmly.

"Because it still hurts me to remember."

"Do you want to tell me what happened?" he asks, knocking on the bed next to him.

"Before I tell you, I just wanted to say that I'm sorry I didn't tell you before and that I was planning to tell you after this weekend."

"And why after this particular weekend?"

"Because I know you like Formula 1 and you were so excited that I didn't want to ruin it for you."

"And you were willing to have to see your ex just so I could have some fun?" I agreed. "Now I understand why you didn't want to come."

"Yeah, I'll tell you everything." He agrees and then I start telling.

After I'd told him everything and cried myself to sleep, Mason and I were cuddled up on the bed in the hotel room after I wake up and calmed down.

"I'm sorry for not telling you sooner and for lying all this time. I feel terrible about it and I completely understand if you don't want to marry me anymore. I know that I'm complicated and that after this you have every right not to trust me anymore, so I..."

"Hey, hey, it's okay." He holds my face. "I still want to marry you and I always will, I don't love the fact that you lied to me all this time but I also don't blame you for being afraid that it would happen again."

"Thank you for understanding me." I say, putting my face to his neck.

"It's okay." He smiles and gives me a kiss. "Now let's go to sleep because we have a race to watch tomorrow."

Bonus scene!

Yourusername Instagram stories

(Spanish GP, let’s go)

Taglist: @ironmaiden1313 @dudenhaaa27 @christianpulisic10 @gaslysainz @fanboyluvr @urgirlceci @justdreamersdream @aundercoverosh @newlifeforus @depressedriches @topguncultleader @123beautifulgirl123 @luvrrish @ @tyna-19

[verosikastrikerstellaexcuser]

I’m still disappointed in the way they wrote Stella. It was so… boring. For a show that champions it’s “messy” and “morally grey” characters, Stella is turned into a one-dimensional hate sink who exists for the sole purpose of being mean to Stolas. The show never fails to consider that she was forced into this marriage too and retcon’s Octavia’s comments about them not always hating each other. Which sounds more interesting, a noblewoman forced into an arranged marriage who puts up with it for the sake of status until her husband threatens to bring it all crashing down upon both her and her daughter so she hires an assassin to prevent her life from going down the drain or a whiny brat who exists solely to torment him?

Yeup you can see how they retconned Octavia’s comments and things they established about Stella and Stolas etc. It’s really noticeable and it makes the show anger inducing. No, you can’t just go back on all that stuff you set up because it’s inconvenient now. The fact it’s done for the sake of some horrible forced ship that abuses Blitz makes it even worse.

Their attempts to dumb down Stella more and more to make her a villain actually just made my Stella sympathy even worse though, ironically. Because by adding Andrealphus they reveal they decided to write Stella as having no property rights. For some fucking reason. I guess marriage for goetia is different? But if Stolas dies it all goes to her Octavia, despite Stella being his wife. That’s how it would have operated for women irl hundreds of years ago and confirms Stella has no property ownership in the marriage (historically also why women couldn’t really vote, as voting has historically been tied to property ownership and married women, everything was automatically owned by their husband). And there’s no way Stella could have just decided to work or do something else because the marriage was arranged since childhood. The arranged marriage favours Stolas and protects him more than her so it’s even worse for her. I wish more people analysed that part and talked about it cuz it’s nuts they wrote that like it’s nothing and makes Stella even more of a bitch or something. If they do some sad arc where Stella’s horrible for expecting to be able to still live somewhere and own a home after the divorce because that’s stealing from poor Stolas and she doesn’t deserve anything at all from him!!!!!1 I will actually fucking scream. Who said it Reddit bros who don’t think women should have divorce rights or Helluva Boss lmao.

The “Why do you stay” (I don’t remember exactly how it goes) lines from Stolas boil my blood because of that too. Like what the fuck do you mean? She’s your wife which according to what we’ve seen, for goetia, means owning nothing and everything going to your husband. She’s not like you Stolas. She can’t just leave like you. She has nowhere to go as far as we know except maybe her brothers but he’s a condescending creep towards her and she still wouldn’t have any control or actually own anything. Also she had Octavia to think about too with moving and leaving. Stolas’ home is Stella’s by just as much, and it’s hers by way less choice than it is Stolas’.

Why in the fuck did they make a cheated on woman with no property rights “just a bitch” the list of reasons Stella has to be rightfully angry is actually crazy. As well as the fact she owns nothing and had no choice in marrying him, she also has Stolas cheating on her in her own fucking bed! He brings other people home and fucks them on the bed she has to sleep next to him in. He is brazen and completely unapologetic about cheating on her right in her face. His lines about finding a hotel, they’re him saying he’s just sorry he got caught, that’s it. They imply he absolutely is going to do it again since his concern is just not getting yelled at for it and he has no shame in telling her that. She also has Stolas reading smut at the dinner table, saying completely inappropriate things in front of their daughter, and him calling her a bitch to Octavia.

Making Stella say she sticks around just to torment Stolas is weak. All this rage and her not wanting him to cheat yet no, she definitely doesn’t love him or care or anything she’s just mean and likes being spiteful. WHAT? She puts so much energy into all the yelling and makes all the spiteful remarks “just because”? Not because she’s hurt instead? There’s not a single thing other than random spite motivating her? It’s shit. You are right anon. All these well explored, humanized morally grey characters and yet the one with a plethora of understandable reasons for being mad isn’t allowed to be mad about any of the actual reasons she has to be. Rather she’s mean just so she can be a yaoi fanfic antagonist opposing the sexy mlm relationship. It’s transparent, childish and it’s boring. Dare I say it’s misogynistic too. It’s atrocious writing plain and simple.

[reddeaddamnation]

"Possession vs Obsession" - Sub-Zero x reader x Scorpion- Chapter IV

Summary: An arranged marriage between clans in the name of peace ironically disturbs the peace of the two brothers who find themselves in a new feud. This time between themselves. Betrayal and heartache had been destined for them since she entered their lives. Y/N of the Shadow-weaver clan, promised to Bi Han, future Grand Master of the Lin Kuei, stands in front of the difficult decision- to end the war between their clans or end the war within the Lin Kuei temple.

"Foolish girl..." Bi Han muttered as he carried Y/N into the temple in his arms. It took all his strength not to collapse as soon as he saw the familiar safe space of his home. He had to be strong. For the clan and for her. Y/N had lost too much blood, now barely lingering on the thin line between consciousness and unconsciousness. The way here was much more difficult for both of them, as they had to rest more often and that caused hypothermia to weaken the Shadow-weaver even more. Bi Han tried to talk as much as possible along the way. He didn't remember talking this much in his life. He didn't even know what to say... Only opting for stories from his battles throughout the years.

"What the hell happened, Bi Han!" Kuai Liang rushed over to them, looking over the wound on her arm and the bruises around her body. He was angry... Y/N tried to focus her eyes on him. Even though her vision was hazy, she could make out the worry in his body language. Bi Han tensed. "What do you think happened?" He snapped back "Step aside, she needs a doctor."

But Scorpion ushered him to stop. "I will handle that. You go see father." With an annoyed tsk, his brother allowed him to take the injured girl from his arms. The chill feeing was immediately replaced by warmth and comfort, making her feel safe, finally able to relax. She heard Kuai Liang call her name multiple times, but unable to answer him, she closed her eyelids, lost in the sound of his beautiful voice.

She had no idea how long she had been unconscious. When she opened her eyes, a sharp pain in her arm quickly sobered her up and she focused her eyes on the first thing she laid them on - Kuai Liang... not Bi Han... "You're awake." He spoke softly "I was becoming quite worried." Y/N looked at her arm. The old makeshift bandage, drenched in blood was replaced by a fresh one and she felt stitches tugging at her skin. "You're safe now." Scorpion reassured, reaching to touch her hand gently with a smile on his lips.

"Thank you... I'm glad you..." Abruptly, she was cut off by Thomas who burst into the room, worry splattered all over his face. "I came as soon as I heard. Oh, Y/N..." in several large steps, he walked over to the bed she was laid on and looked over the damage. "What happened to you? Didn't Bi Han protect you?" Y/N looked away from both of them, biting her lower lip, contemplating her words carefully. "I... I saved him from being in my place right now." She explained quietly "He didn't see a swinging sword in his direction, so I intervened, which caused my own distraction." The boys shared a look, but didn't cut her off in any way "One of the... things we were fighting slashed me. Then... I would have been dead if Bi Han hadn't saved my life. So you can say we're even." She scoffed.

"That was very noble of you." Thomas spoke first "It's a lie what they say about you Shadow-weavers. Bi Han treated you with nothing but disrespect and you still saved his life. I'm glad you're alright now." The girl nodded with a smile. "I'll leave you to rest now. You two did a good job. You deserve all the rest you need." Smoke squeezed her hand lightly, reassuringly and made his way out of the infirmary.

Pushing the blankets aside, Y/N attempted to stand up herself. "What are you doing?" Kuai Liang asked, watching her with furrowed brows. "I should see the Grand Master." She explained "I had enough laying around." She pushed herself off the bed. Her feet touched the cold floor. But after less than three steps, she felt lightheaded. Dizziness overwhelmed her mind and body and she stumbled back. With lightning fast reflexes, Scorpion stood up and held her before she could fall.

For a moment, Y/N reveled in the warmth of his body, hands on his broad chest. His touch was gentle, welcoming... like she belonged there... Bi Han was cold and rough... Even when he was holding her yesterday while treating her wound, he was distant, as if she was a business ordeal. Like he had built an unseen wall of ice between them. She looked up into Kuai Liang's eyes again and saw him staring back at her with worry. "Please... don't push yourself." He murmured. His hand reached up to caress her cheek with a feather like touch, into which she leaned more.

Kuai Liang, mindlessly lost in the moment, eyes staring deep into her own, whispered softly "I was afraid of losing you..." Then, he blinked, snapping back to reality after the realization of what he had said. "I... That wasn't my place to say... I'm sorry." He stuttered, sitting her back on the bed gently. "I should let you rest now..." his hands were a bit shaky. Y/N's heart was beating like mad. She wanted to scream at him to stay... that he was wrong and in facr it was his place to say what he said...

Until the reason it actually wasn't met him at the door. Bi Han walked through the door, eyeing the two of them, searching for something even he didn't know what for. "Have some shame, brother." Kuai Liang glared at him on his way out "Not being next to your future wife in the infirmary..." Sub Zero stared at him as he walked away, wondering what his problem could be. Ultimately, he shrugged it off, deciding not to cause scenes in front of an injured person. "I didn't thank you for what you did in actuality." He came closer to her "So... Thank you."

Y/N smiled slightly, nodding her head. "I should be thanking you, Bi Han." Oh, how lovely his name sounded coming from her lips... "I very much didn't expect that from you." He changed the subject "Nor did I expect you to hold a fight the way you did. Impressive." The smallest smile could be seen tugging at the corner of his lip. She blushed, biting her lip to stop herself from smiling too much at his comment and looked down, avoiding his gaze shyly. His hand reached over to touch her cheek... the same one Kuai Liang held only moments ago...

[lucifitzgerald]

forward

If Luci's being honest, it took her a week or so to find the courage to go back to her aunt's house to clean out her things. She's managed one room and feels accomplished, but she still has a lot to do. There's no...specific timeline on emptying the place out but, she has a feeling the longer it takes, the more painful it'll be. Ironic.

She keeps a lot of her aunt's things but not in a way that's too much or overbearing. Some clothes, a lot of pictures, jewelry, some boxes labeled 'Luci' in her closet (turns out they were books and Halloween decorations), and a lamp with pretty green stained glass in the shade.

That's just the bedroom, she wonders how the rest of the house will go.

She's in her bed with a cup of coffee, reading over one of the letters she found in her aunt's nightstand. She's not...crying, exactly, but her eyes well with tears every so often.

She wonders if she could show these to Aiden...would that be completely ridiculous? What would he think? Her digging into her aunt's past with zero context. These letters were obviously from a lover, or, someone in love with her. Before and during her marriage and pregnancy.

No one truly knows what relationships are like behind closed doors, maybe her aunt was unhappy with Chris, but then why wouldn't she just allow herself to be with Walker--or W as he sometimes referred to himself.

Nothing is ever as simple as it appears but...she wonders why her aunt never talked to her about this. About him. They shared everything...or at least, she thought they did.

[bullet-clubs-bitch]

How do you think Christian Cage would react to someone dissing his wife y/n in a promo?

Lover

What happens when the rivalry between Christian Cage and Adam Copeland goes too far and causes Adam to say some controversial unscripted things about Y/n and the Patriarchy

word count: 1K+

Main Masterlist Christian Cage Masterlist

I currently sat in my private locker room with Killswitch, Nick Wayne, my wife Y/n and our baby girl Madaline. The five of us sat in a comfortable silence as we watched Collison on the tv in the locker room. Looking around the room I felt a fuzzy feeling in my chest, I was surrounded by my beautiful dysfunctional family. The people I loved most. I was distracted from my thoughts when I heard Y/n and Nick start to boo at the screen. I looked to find my former best friend turned arch rival Adam Copeland on the screen. Copeland had been on my ass for months, ever since he arrived in AEW he wouldn't leave me or my family alone. I was on my last straw with him, what else could he want from me. I already beat him TWICE, for god sakes he put my son through a flaming table! He has no right to be demanding another title shot, he is undeserving. 

I watched as Adam walked to the ring microphone in hand, what the hell did he want now. 

“I am sick and tired of Christian Cage and the Patrarchy, all they do is cheat. If it wasn’t for Y/n and her tricks I would be standing here as your TNT Champion. Speaking of Y/n I don’t think you know this but in real life her and Christian Cage are married. Yeah, let that sink in for a moment. I guess Christian Cage really does have a thing for fatherless wrestlers, bonus points if they are way younger than he is.” 

I could feel my blood boiling as I heard the words fall from Adams mouth. I looked to Y/n and she was in shock like the rest of us. “I mean she is 20 years younger than him! But hey who am I to judge, if I was Christian Cage I would do the same thing. I mean have you seen her, damn. Christian you better watch out because once I take your title I’m going to take your controversally young wife. Which by the way you only married because you knocked her up, nice job having a newborn at 50” 

At this point I was livid, I wanted to kill Adam Copeland, how dare he talk about my family like that. For someone who gets so mad when someone brings up his family it’s ironic how he has no problem talking about other peoples relationships. 

“While I’m at it did you know the the age gap between Nick Wayne and Y/n is significantly lower than her’s with Christian, Gross. Y/n if a filty who-” Just then his mike was cut

That was the final straw, I stormed out of my private locker room and ran to the stage. I was going to make him pay. I knew this was probably a trap but I didn’t care, my adrenaline was pumping. I jumped on top of Adam and beat the bloody hell out of him for real. He tried to cover himself from my blows but they did nothing. I was able to get a good amount of shots in before security pulled me off of him. “I’m going to fucking kill you! What the fuck is your problem huh!” I yelled to Adam as security held us apart. The audience was shocked, they could tell that this wasn’t a work, for god sakes they cut off his mike before he did any more damage. My adrenaline was still pumping and I knew I coudn’t let Adam have the last word, especially after he disrespected my wife. I managed to steal a microphone that thankfully worked. 

“What the hell is your problem. You disgust me, how dare you speak of my wife and family like that. I think you are jealous of me. You have a boring marriage that has no love, you are married to an old hag who can’t even sleep in the same bed as you. Can’t you accept that I am just better than you, I have a better life, a better wife, I am the TNT champion god dammit. Just acceppt it and move on, and speaking of cheating just go home and beg your wife to forgive you for cheating on her AGAIN. Now I’ll admit that I am an asshole but I would never so something like that to the woman I love. Oh and I dare you to talk about Y/n again, next time I will make sure to kill you” 

With that I left, security escorted me backstage and out of the building. I didn’t even care of the consequences I could possibly face, I was proud of defending my family. On my way out I saw all the wrestlers backstage comforting Y/n who was understandably very upset. It warmed my heart to see.

***

A day has passed since the incident with Adam Copeland and myself on Collision. Like I assumed everyone was talking about it. Considering in this rivalry I am the bad guy Y/n and myself had received nothing but support during the whole situation. People were turning on Adam for his actions, being disgusted with what he said. AEW made the decision to give Copeland a four week suspension along with making him put out an public apology. The following is a total BS apology from Adam Copeland;  

*I would like to sincerely apologise to Y/n, Christian Cage, AEW and the fans for my actions on Saturday. What I said was truly uncalled for. I apologise to everyone who was offended with my words. I take full responsibility for my actions and will continue to work on being a better person. - Rater R Superstar Adam Copeland* 

What a total jerk. 

“I’m sorry you had to go through that” I told Y/n as the two of us lied in bed, mutaly deciding we would spend the day rotting in bed after what happened not even 24hrs ago. “It’s not your fault, you didn’t know he was going to say that” She told me reassuringly “I know but what he said was fucked up. I love you so much, like so so much. I would do anything for you Y/n” I told her as I began to place delicate kisses on her neck. “What are you doing?” Y/n said playfully 

“Showing you how much I love you” 

[umbran6]

The Shovel Talk

Ok, I'd seen a small Valgrace post (a bit neutral on the ship, but that's just my take on it) that Hera gives Leo the shovel talk about dating Jason. I'd disagree - it would be Hera giving the shovel talk to whoever chooses to date Leo. I say this because this goddess - Queen of Olympus herself - helped raise Leo as his babysitter for a good chunk of years, and I've talked about how Hera seemingly went out of her way to help Esperanza and Leo during his younger years. If there's any demigod that Hera's likely to be protective about, it would be and should be Leo.

And part of me just thinks that Hera, in divine grandmother/nanny form, is the one that gives great shovel talks — great as in, the threats are great in the magnitude they convey. If a boy or girl decides to date Leo, Hera won't directly threaten them. But she does things like meet them where they live when talking about their relationship with Leo, implies knowing dirty secrets of the love interest's past, and mentions previous myths of how some poor, hapless mortal died a cruel death because they cheated on their spouse. They were not direct threats, but they had clear implications that she could and would ruin them if they broke Leo's heart.

Jason tries to become Leo's boyfriend? In a casual chat, she mentions how she turned against the OG Jason for turning his back on Medea and hopes history doesn't repeat itself. Frank? She mentions how she helped save him from dying and that he wouldn't pay her back by breaking Leo's heart, now would he? She's a bit more lax about the threats if a girl decides to date Leo due to her often seeing wives having horrible husbands, but she still keeps an eye on them like Argus. Or like Roz from Monster's Inc.: Always watching. Always.

I can easily imagine Hera deciding to break out ye olde Abrahamic retaliation if and or when Calypso chooses to break up with Leo if it's not within reasonable terms. A disease that leaves her bedridden for a month, cursing any marriages that she has to never last, her home suddenly collapsing beneath her feet because of a god-fueled earthquake on the day of the breakup.

Things escalate even more once the discussion of marriage is brought up. Of course, as the goddess of marriage, she will be heavily involved in it. Imagine a grandparent-level in-law who could fund the wedding of your dreams. But suppose you do something to harm Leo before or after your wedding. That would not end well. She will personally drag the offending soul into the Fields of Punishment and arrange said eternal damnation to be personally ironic. In-laws who try to ruin the wedding are transformed into peacocks immediately.

What would make it even more funny would be if Hera kept Leo entirely in the blind to her own meddling. Imagine Leo being excited for the first date with someone. He's prepared and slightly nervous because he's still new to everything. In the meantime, his love interest is mentally sweating bullets because Hera's hovering behind Leo like a freaking Stand with ゴゴゴゴ hovering in the background. The boy is oblivious that the Queen of the Gods herself is third-wheeling incognito to make sure nothing funny happens.

[glorious-spoon]

For the Spotify ficlet: buddie aaaand number 2? :)

hello, and thank you! i return 3 months late, bearing fic. number 2 was the funeral by band of horses, so please enjoy this odd little meditation about eddie and grief and second chances

to know me as hardly golden 1631 words | buddie | emotional hurt/comfort, pre-relationship

-

Eddie is six years old when he attends his first funeral. A great-aunt, on his dad's side—he has a vague memory of a frail white-haired woman with hugs that smelled like baby powder. His abuela was the youngest of her siblings by far, and he remembers her standing in the sunlight by the gravesite, iron-gray hair neatly pinned back, eyes dry, mouth pressed to a thin flat line as she watched her sister's coffin sink slowly into the earth.

At six, he doesn't really understand it. But he understands enough to hug her, and he feels her press a kiss to the crown of his head and murmur, Eddito, Eddito, in a soft, shaking voice.

It's an old, hazy memory. He's surprised he's hung onto it this long, but it lingers even now that he's lost count of the number of funerals he's been to. Shannon's should have been the one that hurt the worst, but the truth is he barely remembers it; he moved through that entire day like a wind-up toy, dazed and distant, registering almost nothing other than Christopher.

He didn't attend the funerals of any of the people he saved in Afghanistan, because there weren't supposed to be funerals. That was supposed to be the one thing that made it all worth it—ruining his marriage and missing his son's first steps, the nightmares and the guilt and everything else he stomped down into a deep dark hole where he'd never have to look at it. At least, he always told himself, at least there were four people living in the world who wouldn't be here if it weren't for him.

It takes a while to get past that one, after he learns the truth. A smashed-up wall, a frightened son, and a lot of therapy. A week of Buck sleeping on his couch and wishing he had the courage to ask him to share the bed. Not in the way he sometimes half let himself imagine, but just to have another person there. The solidity of a living breathing body, a person he loves, a person he can still keep safe.

In the hospital after the lightning strike, he haunts the hallways like a ghost, watching his family come in and out of Buck's room, unable to make himself come any closer. He can't stop imagining the funeral: Maddie's white face, the woodenness of Margaret and Phillip Buckley. Bobby and Hen and Chimney. Christopher. He can't stop imagining what Buck might look like in a casket, how much like the way he looks now: silent and white and still in a way that Buck never is.

Buck wakes up, and Eddie hugs him and teases him and lets him sleep on his couch, and he doesn't shove all the rest of it into a deep dark hole because he knows better than that now.

But it lingers, like a wound. Like something he doesn't know how to touch, to handle, to even think about let alone talk about. He moves around it, mostly. He lets Buck cheat at cards and cook him steak and ramble about bioluminescent octopuses from the latest wildlife documentary he watched, and he doesn't say, I imagined going to your funeral.

Buck knows, is the thing. That fear, that lingering directionless grief, Buck knows it. He's careful with Eddie, as if Eddie's the one who was wounded, and it would irk him more if he didn't remember being careful with Buck after the shooting in exactly the same way. 

It's a terrible thing to understand about a person, but the alternative would be worse.

It doesn't come to a head so much as unravel the night after a bad shift a few months later, Buck sleeping on his couch even though he's never stopped complaining about how uncomfortable it is, because it's better than being alone. If Eddie were a better person, maybe he'd protest.

(If Eddie were less of a coward, maybe he'd ask Buck to share his bed. He's not even sure what he's so afraid of: at this point, he thinks it'd be a relief if Buck could see through him to the love he's been bleeding out for months or maybe years now. But he remembers Buck so quiet and still in that hospital bed, and he remembers the feel of Buck's chest unmoving beneath his hands, and the words strangle themselves in his throat every time.)

It's a dream that brings him out into the living room in the dark of night, or half a dream, anyway. Half a memory. The night Buck started breathing on his own, Maddie called him, and he woke up immediately and almost let the call go to voicemail, because if she was calling to tell him that Buck was dead then at least there'd be a few minutes more when he didn't know.

He answered, anyway, and Maddie was crying, and it took Eddie several gut-lurching seconds to figure out that they were good tears.

He wakes up now with the echo of his phone's ringtone in his ears, and fumbles it to him, half-asleep and chilled, to stare at the empty screen for several minutes before he realizes that it must have been a dream.

He swears under his breath, puts the phone down, drops his head back against the pillow.

Probably, he should just close his eyes and try to go back to sleep. That's what he usually does, albeit with extremely mixed results. It's not like he's going to call Buck in the middle of the night and wake him up just to reassure Eddie's sleep-scrambled brain that he's still alive.

But Buck is here, and Eddie is a weak man, when it comes down to it. He shoves his feet into his chanclas and makes his quiet way through the house, pausing first at Christopher's door—his noise machine is quiet now, his breathing heavy and peaceful—before heading into the living room. Buck is sprawled across the couch, long limbs everywhere, the throw blanket he always sleeps under tangled between his legs. Eddie's got a painfully affectionate impulse to tug it loose and drape it over him properly, but instead he lingers in the doorway, watching Buck's chest rise and fall, his soft, steady snoring. If he turned the light on, he knows that Buck's skin would be pink and healthy, aside from the minor bruising where the hydraulic rescue tool slipped and whacked him across the arm at that multi-car pileup that kept them out an hour past the end of their shift.

Buck's already been checked over. He's fine; he wasn't even wincing on the ride back home. Eddie stays where he is anyway, watching Buck breathe for several quiet minutes, until Buck shifts on the couch, brings a hand up to rub clumsily at his face, and mumbles, "You gonna just loom in the doorway all night, or what?"

"Sorry," Eddie says, flushing. "I didn't mean to wake you up."

"It's okay." Buck levers himself upright, yawning, before Eddie can tell him not to. On the couch, he hunches over, rubbing at his eyes, then blinks up at Eddie with such sleepy affection that something twists sharply in Eddie's chest. "Come on. Come sit down."

Eddie takes a breath, then lets it out, then crosses the living room to sit on the other side of the couch. Buck turns toward him; his knee bumps Eddie's thigh, and he doesn't pull away.

"Hey," he says.

"Hey," Eddie says back, and he finally exhales quiet laughter. Buck's just looking at him with a crooked little smile on his face, sympathetic eyes, like he knows exactly what brought Eddie out to the living room.

"You wanna check my vitals?" he asks.

His tone is teasing, soft. And it's that, maybe, or it's the quiet and the dark and the way that Buck still hasn't moved away, that has Eddie reaching across the space between them to press his fingers to the side of Buck's throat. Warm skin, faint stubble, and Buck's pulse beneath that, strong and steady. He can feel it when Buck swallows.

"Better?" he whispers.

Eddie nods. It is better. Proof of life, in the most basic of senses. The way Buck is looking at him, intent and knowingly fond in the shadowed living room, is better still.

"You want to talk about it?" Buck asks, still quiet.

Eddie shakes his head. "Tomorrow?"

"Sure."

"I'm sorry." He's not really checking Buck's pulse anymore. His hand shifts, flattens, until what he's doing is a lot more like cupping Buck's jaw the way he would, maybe, before leaning in for a kiss.

Buck's hand comes up to cover his, warm and steady. Alive, alive. "It's okay."

"No, just—it's late."

"Yeah. Still."

Eddie almost leans in. Almost. He's pretty sure at this point that Buck would let him. But they only get one first kiss, and he doesn't want it to taste like fear, even if that is fading now. He rubs his thumb against the edge of Buck's jaw, and suddenly finds that he can say the words after all. "Would you come back to bed with me tonight?"

Buck's smile takes on a mischievous tilt, and Eddie sighs. "Just to sleep."

"Sure."

"I mean it."

"Okay," Buck says. He squeezes Eddie's hand. "Yeah. Just to sleep, for now. But later…?"

Eddie swallows hard. Cards are already on the table. He's still cupping Buck's face like a lover would. It's too late to backtrack, and he doesn't actually want to anyway. "Later, yeah."

"Cool," Buck says, like a dork. His smile turns bashful, and he hesitates, then turns Eddie's hand to brush a light but definite kiss to the back of his knuckles. "I'm good with later."

[homielander]

i am still extremely frustrated that "supporting rhaenyra = feminism" is the depth of the hotd writers' understanding on the subject. rhaenyra has not done a thing for other women apart from useless posturing ("when i am queen i will create a new order" and then denying baela driftmark at first opportunity) whereas alicent has actively stuck her neck out for other women -- by defending rhaenyra's claim to her father, other nobles, and even a doubtful viserys, all at the detriment of her own position; by convincing viserys that rhaenyra should be able to marry whomever she chooses; and by offering rhaenys and her granddaughters driftmark. i'm not delusional enough to label alicent a feminist but i would argue she comes much closer to being one than rhaenyra and rhaenys, who have done nothing but wallow in self-pity (actually rhaenys has done far worse) despite having a much greater capacity to enact change.

my question is, why should alicent support rhaenyra? before the time jump, alicent marrying viserys left the two estranged for years, and when they were on the verge of reconciliation, rhaenyra convinced alicent of a lie that got otto (her only remaining family member) sent away, leaving alicent alone at court without even the courtesy of a heads-up from her husband or former friend. after the time jump, rhaenyra only broached the idea of a marriage alliance as a last resort. she suggested torturing alicent's freshly-mutilated son and actively tried to implicate alicent in high treason. i can almost certainly say rhaenyra never said sorry for anything over the 10-year and 6-year time jumps considering alicent folded in like 30 seconds at the dinner when rhaenyra finally apologized and deigned to acknowledge that alicent was singlehandedly managing both the realm and viserys while she was off in dragonstone doing whatever.

(also, alicent's offences towards rhaenyra don't compare in my opinion -- the show made it pretty clear that alicent talking about the dubious parentage of rhaenyra's first three children was confined to closed doors, alicent never asked criston (and seriously, the courtyard incident is very much on harwin too) or larys to do what they did, and rhaenyra was the one to lend the bastard allegations credence by admitting them aloud in a room full of nobles at driftmark. alicent wasn't the source of those rumours by any means. "everyone knows. just look at them." of course there's the vaemond hearing but that comes after everything above ^)

all that being said, i honestly don't see why the contrived prophecy nonsense was necessary. i think alicent very well could have had an arc of personal empowerment where she decided after viserys's death to finally put her family and herself first, even if that came at the expense of rhaenyra and her claim. "have you ever imagined yourself on the iron throne" is a neat line and all, but it ignores that the only way a woman like alicent feasibly could have seized power is by putting her son (an actual claimant) forward as the successor. (after all, both f&b and hotd make it pretty clear that if not for the war, aegon would have been king in name only with alicent and otto ruling in his stead.) and we can't ignore that rhaenyra has never actually done anything to help secure other women's succession, so alicent wouldn't be making these moves to diminish women in general -- just rhaenyra.

of course you can have a conversation about how alicent working against the first female heir is a negative for women as a whole, but the point is it wouldn't be alicent's intention to work against women, just as it isn't rhaenyra's intention to work for them. i think there was a lot of potential for an interesting story here -- two women securing power only for themselves, but one operates within the system and one operates entirely outside of it -- but that obviously requires more nuance than the hotd writers were willing to allow either side. instead we get margaret thatcher effectively utilizing girlpower and the perpetual victim who's shown being sexually assaulted twice on screen as a punishment for not being able to bust out of her own prison with the dragon she doesn't have.

[lesbicosmos]

rewatching s1 of broadchurch even tho im halfway through my first watch of s3 because i have an obsession with rewatching things and DAMN there are way more hints at who ended up being the killer than i originally thought, and a bunch of moments that are really ironic in hindsight

spoilers under the cut (yes it came out like 10 years ago but im still putting a spoiler warning)

ep1 - joe and ellie talk in the kitchen after hardy makes the statement to the media

joe: do you know what happened? i mean should we be worried for other kids?

on first watch, his tone of voice and body language here just seem like confused and worried parent, but on second, there's definitely a hint of panic in his voice

ep2 - joe, tom and fred in the cafe

joe: this is a terrible, unspeakable thing thats happened. but nothing like it will ever happen again here

tom: you cant know that though can you? you cant be sure

then after this joe's facial expression looks SO guilty like he can't think how to respond

ep3 - hardy questioning tom with joe in the room

hardy: can you think of anyone who would want to hurt danny?

THEN THE CAMERA IMMEDIATELY CUTS TO JOE. ik near the end joe swears he never wanted to hurt him but this is still a rly clever piece of editing, i love when shows do this. also the fact that in every scene where he's questioning tom, joe's in the room and occasionally talks but he's never in the frame of the camera hardys using to record it. he was literally right under their noses the entire time and they never suspected because they were focused on other people too much

ep4 hardy goes to the millers" for dinner

this scene hits so much different on second viewing holy shit. at one point they're talking about marriage and work and how hardy's divorce was partially work-related and:

hardy: this job, it does it to you

ellie: well, not to us

ellie actually makes me sob she loves her life so much then it all just comes crashing down on her

joe: do you think you're gonna solve this case?

hardy: certain.

joe: good :)

joe's reply itself here makes sense but there's a few seconds before he says it where his face is just blank and mildly panicked. he's genuinely worrying about being caught at this point.

now this one isn't a direct hint or anything but just if you think about the dialogue in a different context...yeah it fits

hardy: you bloody liar

joe: ive said nothing

hardy: and yet-

joe said nothing to the police or ellie and yet was lying the WHOLE time.

ep5 - brian asks ellie out

ellie: sorry, im married

brian: and thats an issue is it?

ellie: happily married, brian

brian: oh. okay, fair enough. only lots of people aren't though, are they?

ellie: i am.

THE IRONY OH ELLIE LET ME GIVE YOU A HUG PLEASE

ep6 - jack's wake

ellie spends the whole scene looking around to see if anyone looks worried, at one point she looks into a room (seemingly at nige but joe is stood nearby having a different conversation) and she makes eye contact with joe RIGHT as the camera cuts away

ep 6 - joe takes tom to the skate park and ellie arrives

ellie: i was just looking round that bar at the wake thinking "its someone here, why cant i see it?" the longer this goes on, im starting to suspect everyone

joe: when you say everyone...

ellie: well, nearly everyone

this is probably the most obvious hint that i can't believe i didn't catch on to. of COURSE they're gonna make a point for the killer to be the ONE person ellie LITERALLY SAYS she isn't suspicious of.

ep7 - ellie lets susan leave the police station

ellie (about susan's past with her husband and daughters): in your own house, how could you not know?

just ow. the irony of it all. fucking ow.

[greenqueenhightower]

How did Olivia and Fabien’s interview- where they’re clearly talking about a scene that got scrapped this season, snowball into Team Black and Alicent haters believing that they meant season one?

https://x.com/marebarrow1929/status/1799861473969160237?s=46&t=a2c3OPYBKMaDot90jYoK4A

Now they’re stating it as a fact that when Aemond got his eye sliced out, Alicent was sleeping with Criston. She is therefore a bad Mother and an even worse Mother if they’re having sex during blood and cheese (because she and Criston totally knew it was happening that night and said fuck Helaena and the twins).

It’s even become a fact to them that Alicent and Criston have been sleeping together before Rhaenyra even slept with Criston 😂😂 They’re saying it’s a 16 year affair and Daeron is definitely Criston’s son and I’m like “What about Aemond??” Would he not be their son too?

They seem to have forgotten that someone has been posting season 1’s script and some of Alicole’s interactions definitely show a mutual attraction and devotion- but they’re also all PG…. There was no “beautiful, messy, scrappy” sex scene anywhere in the scripts amongst the deleted scenes. There is nothing to allude to them having a sexual relationship. An inappropriately close relationship that blurs the lines between the Queen and her Guard, yeah that’s there but we already knew that from the scenes that did make it to the screen.

They’re holding “Hiding under your cloak of righteousness” and “Now they see you as you are” close to their chests right now.

Desperately grasping at straws to make Alicent sleeping with Criston after her husband is cold and dead, comparable and worse to Rhaenyra having 3 bastards with Harwin’s skin coloring, hair color, hair texture AND face while being married to A biracial Valyrian man, claiming they’re trueborn. Placing them in the line of succession for the IT and DWT, gaslighting and lying through her teeth about it. Something that causes Vaemond Velaryon to be murdered fighting for it to remain in his family. Let’s also not forget that Rhaenyra is seen on screen having sex with her uncle at on the night of his dead wives funeral, on her ancestral lands. While her parents and her daughters grieve.

It can’t be compared. Alicent went to her marriage bed a maiden, she took care of a man who didn’t care for his own children while Rhaenyra abandoned him for years. She was faithful to him and gave him 4 Targaryens. He’s now dead now and her job is done. Her son is on the Iron throne and she crowned her Daughter, Queen. She even gave up her rooms to her. If there wasn’t a war going on and if she hadn’t been scared for them their entire lives, her duties would be passing the reigns to Helaena. Mentoring her but mostly just living a life of leisure and comfort as the Queen Mother. She could even go back to Oldtown if she wanted or anywhere else. She could marry again if she wanted. She is a young woman still, in childbearing age.

Apart from it being out of wedlock, which is hypocritical but we already know her to be a hypocrite, just like we know Rhaenyra to be a hypocrite- it’s their thing that they do. It’s still not the same and definitely not comparable to Rhaenyra’s great big screw up.

I've honestly concluded that some of the TB stans lack media literacy, are eager to jump to conclusions, do not have the patience or willingness to discuss matters peacefully or educate themselves about the other person's POV, are content with stirring up drama and spreading misinformation, and take things out of context. This time is no exception.

I watched the whole interview of Olivia Cooke and Fabien Frankel with Jonatan Blomberg from MovieZine (he is a Swedish interviewer) before he made it private on his YouTube channel, and it is clear that they are talking about S2. Before he asked them about the experience of filming intimate scenes together, they had been talking about S2 for quite some time and how their characters' dynamics changed this season. Then, Jonatan (knowing about the leaks obviously) asked them about the experience of filming intimate scenes and how they approached it.

So there clearly was NO MENTION OF S1, and neither did Fabien nor Olivia talk about the experience as something that occurred in the previous season. Olivia literally says: "We know each other so well at this point," meaning the time they started filming scenes for S2, and Fabien adds: "We have this sort of added bonus of having worked together for a year and having developed a friendship and a trusting relationship."

So they are clearly talking about S2, for which they shot a "beautiful, messy, scrappy sex scene" but which did not make the cut for reasons known to the producers. They did make it sound as if they filmed other sex scenes though, which we will again see this season.

For my take on why Alicent and Criston could have started sleeping together in S1 only after Viserys' death, and why the "Daeron is their love-child" theory holds no ground, see here.