#except anci

[slide-into-the-void]

I introduce you to a few chaps you’ve met before; The Chaos Quartet! Aka, my pals

[greattigerssimp]

Hcs for what Aran Ryan would be like as an older brother?

Of course! Aran Ryan sibling heacannons 🇮🇪🇮🇪

His siblings and their ages, oldest to youngest:

- Brooklyn, 22

- Conall, 17

- Patrick, 13

- Orla, 8

- Finn, 5

- Sean, 2

- He and all his siblings are homeschooled, but Brooklyn would move onto to pursue law school

- Aran was either the funnest sibling parent, or the meanest.

- Aran and Brooklyn argued with each other a LOT, their sibling parenting styles colliding, with Brooke being the type of person to be more strict, while Aran was more laid back... although he does get ancy when his dad yells at his younger siblings

- Aran could never cook to save him, so that stuff fell on either Brooke, or his dad would do it.

- One time, Aran snuck his siblings away from home to go see a football match live... but was quickly ratted out by Brooklyn and was severely punished.

- A lot of Arans attitude and rage were gotten from either his dad, or the stress of basically being a parent-sibling most of his life

- Most of Arans' build not only came from working on the sheep farm but also from handling all his siblings

- Loves pranking his siblings... whether it be stealing their stuff, locking them in a room, etc.

- Gets a little emotional and awkward anytime his siblings ask about mum. Aran and Brooke were super young when their parents divorced, and they actually don't know much about their mom, except for what she looks like.

- Shockingly good as a substitute homeschool teacher, don't be surprised if even the younger Ryan's have stupidly thick skin

- All his siblings know how to curse... even baby Sean.

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Nine

I huddle behind the till with Petra on the last Friday before Christmas, watching as she tallies up the till for the final time before the new year. 

“Okay, so we sold five of these, three of those, and the last eight of those ones… and I’ll have to check the books again but I think I sent twelve to the post office today.” I glance over her shoulder at the long receipt that’s been spit out of the till to confirm. “So that’s almost all of them sold?”

She glances over to the card rack on the wall nearby. “Everything except for, I think, four?”

“Wow.” I say. “I can’t believe people actually wanted them.”

“Oh for goodness sake!” She grins. “Of course they did, you did a beautiful job on those cards. You should be very proud.”

I blush. “I actually am.”

Petra empties the last of the till coins into a plastic bag and locks it into the safe for the bank. “Well you can enjoy the money, my dear, and enjoy your christmas. Have you planned to do anything nice?”

“The usual. I’ll just go to my granny’s house and we’ll have dinner with my aunts and uncles and cousins. We just found out that my uncle’s wife is pregnant again, so that’s something to chat about at the dinner table.”

“Sounds lovely.” She muses, and I suppress a grimace as I zip up my coat. “Yeah, well, have a safe flight home to Spain. I hope you have better weather than we do here.”

“Me too.” She says. “Happy New Year, since I won’t see you before then.” I smile and let myself out onto the dark of the early evening street as the jaunty little bell jingles in the door behind me. 

Luke, who owns the coffee shop across the street, is closing his shutters too, and gives me a quick wave and a “merry Christmas, Evie.” as he covers up the window art I did for him a few weeks ago. He liked what I’d done for Mezzotint so much that he asked me to do one for him too. I went out on a limb and asked him for one hundred euros for it, and he paid it without batting an eyelid. All of that money has gone towards Christmas presents, as for the first time in years I’ve been able to afford them. I hop on the Luas and ride it towards the centre of town. It’s jammed with commuters in big coats, the windows fogged up and dripping with condensation. The lights outside blur together through the fog. 

I get off at Jervis Street onto pavement that’s still wet with the rain from earlier and wander up towards Henry street, where I buy a hot chocolate from the crepe and coffee kiosk that’s still open, just because I want one, and then head towards Arnotts where I walk around looking at fancy things that I cannot afford for half an hour, just for the sake of doing it. There are discounted Christmas decorations in one section, and I’m drawn to a pair of pink feathered ones with silver beads laced along the ribbons. On sale, they are ten euros each but I buy both of them anyway, because Claire would love them. 

On the way out I go to the perfume section and spray Tom Ford on myself. The shop assistant smiles at me like she thinks I might want to buy it, but I avoid eye contact. I will never own perfume like this. I bring my wrists to my nose and inhale the complicated aroma as I head back onto the maniacal December crowds, imagining for a moment how satisfying it must feel to smell like two hundred euro perfume every day, to know that you can throw money at something frivolous, just because you like the smell of it. 

When I arrive home, Claire is in her pyjamas and eating a bowl of plain pasta on the couch. She grins at me as I come in and asks me if I want to binge some Christmas films. It feels like a perfect way to spend our last night of the year together before we go back to Tullamore tomorrow. I go upstairs and put on something comfortable. I don’t really have pyjamas in the way that Claire does. Hers are always matching, satin with lace trims, flannel with pockets and buttons down the front, but I don’t have anything like that. Perhaps it says something about my personality. I grab an ancient vest and a pair of jersey shorts and head down to the couch, stashing the wrapped feathered baubles into my half-packed suitcase to give to her tomorrow. 

First we watch Miracle on 34th street, because we watch that every year, and then inevitably we put on Love Actually, just to scream about how much we hate every single character except for Sam, and we drink more hot chocolate and eat sweets from a tub until I feel sick. As the credits roll I glance over to her to see a glazed expression on the face. She’s gazing through the window at nothing. Blackness, the sky clouded over leaving no space for the stars to peek through them.

“Are you alright?”

“Mm. Yes.”

I shift in my seat. “I’ve been meaning to ask how things have been with Shane, you know, like, with his college work and the football and all that.”

“Oh, it’s fine. The usual. I don’t think we’ve made any progress, to be honest.”

“And his Christmas exams?��

“I don’t have a clue. He barely studied for them so he’s probably failed them, for all I know.”

“Oh.”

She looks at me then, brows furrowed and voice defensive. “I love him, you know. I still love him. I won’t like, break up with him or anything.”

“I didn’t think you would.”

“Things will get better. All couples go through this kind of thing. It’s what happens when you’ve been together for three years, things just feel a bit less perfect than they used to, and you have to make compromises. Really though, I love him. I’d do anything for him.”

I wonder if it’s only my projection that she sounds a bit like she’s trying to convince herself of those things, not me. “I’m sure the exams went fine.” I say, even though I’m not sure. On every run and every gym session I’ve been to with Shane in the last few months he hasn’t mentioned college once. His twenty-five-grams-of-protein yoghurts and his various friends who injured themselves in various ways from using the machines wrong (like me), he’s mentioned plenty of times, but unless I knew for a fact that he was in college, I’d assume he didn’t go. 

Claire is frustrated. “I wish he’d just get it together. That’s all. I’m sick of feeling like I’m nagging him, but it really just feels like common sense… oh!” her phone springs to life on the table in front of us, vibrating loudly against the wood. “I bet this is him now, speak of the devil.” She flips it over in her hand and her brows knit together with confusion. “Oh, it isn’t.”

“Who is it?”

“Um. It’s Jude.” She brings it slowly to her ear, as though it might bite her. “…hello?”

It’s quiet enough in the room to hear his side of the conversation. “Hey. Hey Claire. I’m so sorry to call you. Are you with Shane at the moment?”

Her face screws up. “No. I amn’t, I’m at home with Evie.”

“Ah, right. Do you know if he’s around? I tried to call him a few times and there was no answer.”

“He’s in Tullamore. He’s gone home for Christmas already, he had training at the pitch at seven, sorry.” She glances at the clock in the kitchen. “It’s also almost midnight. I imagine he’s asleep by now.”

“Right, okay. That’s fine… uh. Sorry to call you, I better-”

“Is everything alright?” 

“Yeah, yeah, it’s nothing, I’m just home in Dublin for the next week. I misplaced my house keys, I was hoping to crash at his.” A pause. “And also like, maybe because he has a car I was thinking he might be able to drive me to A&E.”

“What?” I exclaim. Claire’s eyes are wide. She doesn’t know what to do. I take the phone. “Jude.” I say. “It’s Evie.”

“Hi Evie, how’s it going?”

“What happened?”

“No, no, no, nothing big, it’s not a big deal, I just might need a couple of stitches.”

“Stitches where?”

“My-” He breaks away and sucks air through his teeth, muttering “Jesus, fuck” under his breath. “- my eyebrow. It’s fine. It can wait, I can just get a taxi back to Clontarf and get my parents to let me in. Hopefully they’re still awake.” He sounds doubtful. “Sorry to disturb you, seriously. I’ll work it out.”

“For God’s sake.” Claire grabs the phone again. “Come here. We can’t drive you to the hospital but we can clean you up. I at least have a first aid kit. Where are you?”

“The docks.”

“You’re only a few minutes away. Can you walk to us?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright.” She gives him our address and they hang up, then she sits there in disbelief, shaking her head. “Bloody men.” She says. “I’m exhausted.” She gets up and heads towards the stairs. 

“Where are you going?” I ask her. 

“To put on a bra.”

Beginning // Prev // Next

[bloginterviews]

Understanding Filipino Farmers’ Challenges in Selling Their Crops

In many parts of the Philippines, agriculture remains the backbone of rural life. Yet, for the farmers who feed the nation, selling their crops is often the most uncertain and stressful part of their work. This post brings together the lived experiences of seven farmers from different regions and walks of life, shedding light on the recurring struggles they face — and the opportunities we have to support them better.

Selling Crops Is an Ongoing Gamble

For many farmers, harvest season brings as much anxiety as it does relief. As farmer Anita Tumangob puts it, “Even if I go to the market early, there’s no guarantee I’ll find someone who values the effort I put into growing my crops.” Most farmers sell their harvest without knowing if they’ll earn enough to cover their costs, let alone make a profit.

Market prices are highly unstable and often drop during peak harvest times. Without access to real-time pricing or demand data, farmers are forced to accept low offers or risk watching their crops spoil. Anto Ancis, who grows perishable crops like ampalaya, recalls having to throw away spoiled produce because buyers didn’t show up in time.

The Middlemen Dilemma

While some farmers manage to sell directly in local markets, many are still at the mercy of middlemen — intermediaries who offer the convenience of pickup but at the cost of a fair price. Leonard Fuentes shares, “Middlemen take a big part of my income, but without them, I don’t have a way to sell, so I’m stuck with them.”

The consensus across interviews is clear: middlemen reduce farmer earnings and control pricing, yet many farmers lack the tools or networks to sell without them. Older farmers like Anita Ando and Cristita Mante rely on them out of necessity, highlighting the need for accessible alternatives.

A Costly Barrier

Transportation is another significant obstacle. Without their own vehicles, farmers must rent or borrow often at high costs and with uncertain availability. One missed delivery can mean a complete loss of income for the season.

Risalino Aranas notes, “Fuel is expensive now, and maintenance adds up too.” Several farmers suggested the need for community-shared transport services or more affordable access to logistics support tailored to smallholders.

Information Gaps and Pricing Transparency

One of the most consistent pain points is the lack of reliable information. Farmers repeatedly expressed the need for real-time updates on market prices and buyer demand.

“If I had access to updated market prices, I could negotiate better and avoid being underpaid for my hard work,” says Anita Tumangob. This gap leaves farmers vulnerable to opportunistic pricing and poor planning.

Record-Keeping and Financial Literacy

Most of the farmers interviewed keep handwritten notes to track income and expenses — if at all. Some admitted they don’t track earnings systematically and rely on estimates, which limits their ability to assess profitability or plan long-term.

Anto Ancis, one of the few who backs up his records with photos of receipts, is the exception. This reveals an opportunity to introduce simple, offline-compatible tools to help farmers manage finances more accurately.

Technology Use and Platform Preferences

Interestingly, the majority of farmers do not use dedicated agri-tech apps. However, many are familiar with Facebook and YouTube, using mobile data on basic smartphones to connect with others or watch farming videos.

When it comes to platform navigation, language matters. Most farmers prefer Tagalog or Bisaya for reading content, though some said English was easier to use in app settings due to better interface design. The need for local-language support in tech tools is clear.

Farmer Profiles

Here’s a brief look at who these farmers are:

Farm sizes range from 1.1 to 2.5 hectares.

Main crops: Rice dominates, with some growing ampalaya and corn.

Sales process: Some sell directly, while others rely on middlemen.

Transport: A mix of owned vehicles, rented trucks, and borrowed methods.

Tech use: None of the interviewed farmers use agriculture-specific apps.

Opportunities for Innovation

These interviews reveal specific areas where thoughtful technology and policy could create real impact:

Live price updates and buyer directories.

Community-shared transport scheduling apps.

Digital tools for record-keeping that are simple, visual, and offline-compatible.

Rating systems for buyer reliability.

Local-language user interfaces for non-English speakers.

Any solution must be co-created with the farmers it aims to serve. These tools don’t need to be flashy — they just need to be practical, accessible, and respectful of local realities.

Listening Is the First Step

From lowball offers to transport woes, from information gaps to unreliable buyers — these are not isolated incidents, but systemic challenges. Yet within these stories, there is also resourcefulness, perseverance, and a deep desire for fairness and dignity in trade.

“It’s like gambling because I don’t have access to real buyers,” says Cristita Mante. If we want to create a more just and sustainable food system, we need to ensure that farmers like Cristita aren’t forced to gamble their futures.

[libidomechanica]

Untitled Composition # 10622

And look, O shines so court meal, to hold, to razed eyes!     Often reached in sacrifice: thy mortal, naked and I, o white? No! The hand—just as     mind another tack’d, from then, she feel myself, a shook there myself to proud. As therefore     bridal which dearest! Open the grasse not revealed plain, as here, will adore the soone a     virgin sacks—a moderate kind only

line’s the waters who say, like delicate ancies     graceful smiles there in the dropped away. Remembrances, in pierce with air is comes on.     Now all in these did not aspired inward, I shall I dare not, but here! And if the Base.     Since decrees: what I though a ditty not love were thee, the wide, progress of that recess,     pulled tongue does is sire on ruining.

The breed her with me to set Designs here a     tale here they fled—my spread, how crude and of heauens, nay all this and seated my father my     very heart-beat wide with grief of delight: but, her of the morning plums reading into     the flow’d—for I stood was accompact, you along to hint thou go with turn the blue. I     pass before than sin—except my self.

Too, which with his hand, art my good play with loue, one     or poetess forth of hatred as at seemely that I am surely deigning the     deep-drawn sight, as a mourney to conscious grace for love were in the freedom far in other     will deadly can I do, ’ said him her vp those folds—nor dreary caves, as with its that     is cannot by this head more end, then

blood. That I have set them to wise discover if     to take the shown, as has been in me is a poised look down, far over has made must long     sun slowly thou don’t do like way we can now answer will, I am a shells, tend hit     merry-winged match, and they have done these actions his verse; but faces were saw my turn and     impious Gods; and throne: in pleasure;

some bay, and pavements progresse, where is as lost,     oerchantresse, vpon some first looking, thousand from while not what a thou here! Through he once vnto     Mahomet! The words, with longer of golden far away, and walls gave it had doth leaves. A     glazed upon a welcome to me was served, the pleasure! My loue, or you any touch     immortal straue to lives about dotes

them late fruit. And left to fear the very path, and     of even they? The verse can form and horses daunce, fire the to melts inters to the wet     friends. Solemn and in the boye no better the bowers in lonely beautifull we says     No: ’ he which is notes, when if e’er crost to live, he sadly yels, unless grave here has ruffled     by reflection, but as and eke

the more dangerous airy goal of gold, ooz’d slow,     and as birds and rushes. Again; yet each to me. To all Quartered deem to keen in     his our ioy and thou go without my Lady Blancholy. Of the river sickle my     own, and thou say? Communing on early cured thee speak, breast the end of rose tufts, in that     is, purcharg’d with evening disparted

if I do them bent my heaven’s voices vnto my     tomb; and age, enwrapped an image on thing down. In the fall stand, and yeeld that thou would     supper nostrils small fret. A womanhood, and, at last half-drowne, and let than any sequent     worthy Christian quell its toy! Cherry- isle, with turn my minute’s serve whale-bone misse, with     vain wild white doves, not theyr chaos: and

next she great Tirynthia, ten to musickening     faith thine, now came alone, as soon he height and woof, i’m this treach tender might for Pyramus,     a family-like realms of yore, to make so that dreamful deceiu’d their feet the words—Ah,     having simpling till and glitter, quickering is no more likewise who look upon     occasion. Whose stare, vpon vs resist?

Turning, to makes sever. Strife as my verse; but she     cast no more lower, where will I fear less storm. To you tyranny, my cool, and keeping     to help’d against me. Then the mighty Poets free. Said through come to sing, ne let arms, were     mistrust as his meant: which made, you dream away, started, and pleasant doom I will I did     seeke with the tempest dress? When ope to

me, from the palms, sicke legend if their sleep. He step.     Foreign of truth of the others made fields, far more pleats. Casts words oft and fingers. I have     life of me! A crown instead of Wisdom of beauty thee safely terms or said: I need     the place, the may do twinnes that’s me. Where air immortal bowe and night! Forgotten-times     rest. A moment as the same in shouldst

more of the rose alone, as if it word. To labor     and still remity of like me no falling homeward in either things and made you     a good found thy Protean, pays. And trammel’d backgammon’s hanging ordures do charge,     thou better day behold is for the upburst, when the red rose. And strong and I will then,     with the sill the faults. Were t aughters?

’ Mothers at they may light, as the kitches, few stept,     kind and ’gan to testify the dyer’s mast? My tongue back’d, into the day for low, If the     lands, I breathing warm, and each insufficial art of his hear, was far best: so to the     pleaseth of the hearts strangled upon my work of cloud than the which I would apples soft     and thus. Not much to be socks that had

an ocean street, then a flake foaming was doubly,     where, but soon as twixt a maiden, safety of lonely majestic to thy wracke beam, whethere     all the woods shall the wind, and none its cased; or form, by Suwarrowly bowstrings;     my grieved, the woods may still fare: yet loue why my own dear life and as containing     Of all this vein of this sin in mast?

[dany-is-my-queen]

A Question Of Loyalty II

Rhaenyra Targaryen x reader, Alicent Hightower x reader

Word count: 6.8k

Note: First of all, I cannot thank all of you guys enough for the love you’ve given to this story. To be completely honest, I don’t know how many chapters are left, maybe 2, maybe even 4. After the 1 season of House of The Dragon ended, I’m in blank really. I’m currently reading Fire & Blood, where “The storm broke and the dragons danced”. So, I don’t want to spoil you, therefore I’m unsure on how much to include in futures chaps… I already have a few ideas though, solid ones that you’ll read soon. Anyways, sorry for my rambling lol. Enjoy! These are flashbacks, to give context of what occurred before the part I.

Part 1

Summary: When dragons of green and dragons of black dance, you have to choose the color that suits you best.

Oh how you rejoiced in taking off to the mountain tops to liberate your mind for a while. You didn’t take after your father, not being a big fan of the sea and sailing, instead, you fell in love with the skies. Silverwing was the best dragon you could ever dream for. Not having hatched one of your own, unlike Laenor, you claimed the she-dragon when you were only nine, you almost gave Rhaenys a heart attack when she was told you’ve been seen soaring the skies atop of her. “Your great grandmother would be proud. But don’t be hot-headed, Y/N.” The Queen Who Never Was remarked. You wore a grin of satisfaction when your mother praised you.

You admired Queen Alysanne, you’ve read all about her contribution to the Realm in the ruling of her husband, King Jaehaerys I, therefore, you aspired to become like her, that’s why you gathered the courage to mount the silvery beast. She was relatively docile and friendly to strangers, so it was natural the bond that bloomed between you.

You lodged in King’s Landing since then, with Silverwing residing in the Dragon Pit with the rest of the dragons.

“Care to join me for a ride, cousin?” Rhaenyra offered beaming.

“Today is your nameday, my Princess. Do you want to spend it with me?” Rhaenyra was turning ten and five, you were the same age and that aided you to feel comfortable around one another. And you found common ground on flying. She nodded eagerly, grabbing gently your forearm.

“Nothing would make me happier.”

How could you refuse the Princess of the Kingdom? You were being reckless and selfish, to say the least. King Viserys and Queen Aemma were hosting a huge feast and jousting to celebrate the “Realm’s Delight”, but she had other plans in mind. You tagged along without a second thought.

“Where are we going?” You asked once you were ready to take depart.

“Home.”

Dragonstone was a short flight from the Capital, the dank island was forsaken, except for a dozen servants that kept the Castle in good conditions. You landed ashore, unsure on why Rhaenyra would want to be there.

“We could move here. Just the two of us.” The Princess’s voice unwavering. You modestly chuckled. After all, it is rightfully mine”

“It would get a bit lonely, don’t you agree?” You demurred, she shook her head.

“Not really, we have Syrax and Silverwing. They can keep us company.”

“Would that suffice, my Princess?” She looked you straight in the eye, you had never felt so intimate with anyone before.

“It would, for me. I’ll never be the son my father so desperately seeks. There’s no place for me there. Not one that will lead me to a happy ending.” The confession staggered your heart, the princess felt so alone, so isolated, under the shadow of an unborn male child. “We could visit Driftmark from time to time. I know you’d miss your family.” She insisted, you contemplated this absurd notion for a minute.

“What about Alicent?”

“What about her?”

“Wouldn’t you miss her?”

“Would you?”

“Yes. She’s our friend.”

“She’s way too dutiful. She will marry soon and forget about us.”

“You reckon?”

“We could do as we pleased here. I needn’t worry about you marrying some fat Lord. We could wed instead, I’ve read about the ancient Valyrian ceremonies. I would make you happy.” There was no malice, nor ambition, solely innocence and hope. You were bewildered, couldn’t believe what Rhaenyra was professing, she was not jesting. Her stomach knotted, worried you’d look at her with disgust, but you cupped her face in your hands. The moonlight shone on the water and on her blue eyes. Rhaenyra has never looked more beautiful, her hair waving gracefully in the blowing wind, her lips so inviting, flushed cheeks.

The naive, ingenious part of you wanted to seal your consent with a fiery kiss, your first kiss. To affirm to her that you would marry her to the tradition of your Houses. Then that vision faded in your mind, she was the Princess, the only child of the King & Queen. That hunch… telling you she was destined for something greater than breaking the rules and committing this kind of madness. It could never be.

“Nyke’m isse jorrāelagon rūsīr ao. (I’m in love with you) Even if for some bizarre reason my father decided to make me his pronounced heir. I would give it up, I’d give everything up to be with you. In a heartbeat.” In this moment in time, Rhaenyra bared her deepest desires and dreams to you. Despite this, you balked off. Fixing your coat and climbing on Silverwing before she could stop you, dodging her face. This was the right thing to do, the wise action. They wouldn’t let you be together, she was more than you deserved. You felt like an absolute coward, you were. The silver dragon flapped her wings into the night sky, heading back to King’s Landing.

Syrax hopelessly yowled. Which meant she was feeling her rider's heartache.

**********

There are days… where you find yourself wishing you had said yes to Rhaenyra, to had carried on with her unhinged proposal. Your parents haven’t urged you to get married, for which you were grateful for. After the incident with the Princess at Dragonstone, you grew asunder. She avoided you like the plague, barely granting you a word when in the same space. Whereas with Lady Alicent, you only grew closer. You enjoyed her company, and making her laugh.

“Do you get homesick?” Alicent asked while reading a book with you laying on her lap.

“Of course. Being apart from my siblings is hard. But being here allows me to spend time with you. That’s a fair exchange.” You missed the way Alicent blushed. “Do you?”

“Yes, I miss my brother Gwayne. My cousins. Hightower was warmer… I felt closer to the Gods. And to my mother.” You knew she still had a difficult time recalling the demise of her mother.

“Let’s pay a visit to Oldtown then.” You bluntly suggested, attempting to lift her spirts. Alicent giggled.

“It’s a prolonged way from the Keep. It’d take months… my father won’t let me be absent for that long.”

“Lucky for you. I happen to know someone who could take us there in no time.” You smirked, Alicent understanding now who your carriage was.

“Y/N, are you out of your mind! I would fall off Silverwing somewhere across the Roseroad and my body would never be located.” You chuckled at her overemphasis more so cause she possessed a serious look on her delicate features.

“Don’t be dramatic, Alicent. You’d be clutching my waist the entire flight. I’ll have the dragon keepers saddle her properly for your safety. It would be an unforgettable quest. C’mon, my lady. Picture it, instead of reading old tales and histories we can have an experience of our own. We can even make a quick stop on Highgarden, have you been there?” Alicent did want to go, it felt like a lifetime opportunity. If only she wasn’t terrified of mounting a dragon…

“The many rivers, the canal crisscross and its cobbled streets, the breathtaking mansions. I wish to see the place where you grew up. Please?”

It didn’t take much to convince Alicent, she was surprised herself. She was willing to overcome her fear for those beasts… if it meant to share this voyage with you.

Alicent approached your dragon with dread creeping in. “Touch her.” You encouraged her, she delayed, you guided her fingers to the long neck of Silverwing.

“Promise me if I die you’ll say to my family that I’m sorry and that I love them.” Alicent quipped but did mean it. You pressed a peck to her temple to soothe her.

“I’d never let anything happen to you.” That was all the reassurance Alicent needed.

“May I?” You asked gently.

“You may.” You helped her climb, following behind, she cleaved steady your lower back. “I still don’t know how I persuaded my father to let me go.”

“He was in a good mood, I guess. Now, don’t make a hasty move cause if you do Silverwing might toss us away by accident.” You tried to feign a serious tone. She stiffened and tighten her grip, you bursted out laughing again and she nudged you softly.

“Y/N! Don’t tease.”

“Sorry sorry. You’re stuck with me. Sōvēs, Silverwing!” The ride to her home was pure bliss. She never would have wager that she’d enjoy riding in dragonback. She wasn’t sure if it was the thrill of it or the mere fact that you were the one with her. That was the very journey that showed her what true love felt like. Disguised as adventurous friendship, she realized she was head over heels for you.

**********

It hasn't been long since you returned to the Capital from your excursion with Lady Alicent. You sat next to her at the tournaments, this time celebrating the upcoming birth of the King's first son. Rhaenyra watched you from her seat. You felt quite uncomfortable, more so because that fire inside you kept burning wildly whenever she was around. There was a new knight in town, Criston Cole, you overheard, the Realm’s Delight seemed smitten by him, and you suddenly felt sick, jealousy twisting in, you paid no attention, Alicent was gossiping about the other participants.

Queen Aemma died in childbirth, you wished you were there for Rhaenyra, but she built her walls higher than they have ever been.

Rhaenyra was proclaimed heir by the King, as you once suspect it would happen. She’s destined for greater things. The same tape replaying in your head. The Lords from all across the Kingdoms swore fealty to her, your House among them.

A few moons passed and Alicent was betrothed to the King, news that surprised Rhaenyra, though not you. It relieved you, for he wasn’t to take you nor little Laena to wife. Alicent has told you about her private visits to Viserys, solemnly swearing it was his father’s goal all along.

“My interest for men is as dull as dishwater.” She commented one day. Gaining your curiosity.

“Whatever do you mean? I know you desire not to marry him. Does that…-“

“I’m not going to elaborate. Just… remember this. I will always be yours.”

“Wha-“

“I need to prepare. See you at the ceremony, lady Y/N.” She ran out, leaving you very, very confused.

**********

It’s been four years since the royal wedding. Four years since you decided to leave court to be with your family and stop pondering about her, or rather, about them. Then proceeded to head for the fighting on the Stepstones, aiming to bring some help to your father and brother, only to be dismissed upon your arrival. You argued with your sire at the Valeryon camp on Dwarfstone. “No, Y/N. Not a chance.” Corlys rejected you. There was no bargain on the table. “This is no playground, no training yard. This is a dangerous zone. I cannot and will not risk your life.”

“But father- my dragon can make the difference, I’m capable of fighting as well-“

“I know, sweet daughter. I know you are. Even more capable than half my men here, but you are no soldier, Y/N. You have no practice in these things. I would never forgive myself if anything were to happen while you’re in this bloodshed.” Your father finished explaining his concern. You were upset about it, by all means. How were you to learn if not by being in an actual war.

That didn’t halt you though. Laenor disagreed at the beginning. Unhappy to oblige to your request, you implored for his help on this one. And so he gave it. He unfolded the plan of supposedly surrender to the Crabfeeder and the Triarchy, proposing a desperate gambit, using Daemon as bait to lure the Crabfeeder's forces into the open to eliminate them all at once. “Gods be good, if father kills me after this, know that it’ll be on you.”

You ready yourself, locating on the top of the highest peak, standing by until further signal from Laenor.

It was time when you spotted Seasmoke emerged. You trailed behind them, setting ablaze the Triarchy soldiers astride Silverwing, wiping out the archers overlooking the battlefield. A lost arrow almost hitting you, you dodged it effectively. As they forced reel, Corlys and Vaemond leaded a brutal counterattack against the enemy, while Daemon pursued Drahar into the caves. As the Velaryon forces claimed victory, Daemon dragged the upper half of Drahar's bisected corpse behind him. Your father’s vassals gazed upon the skies to find you and your she-dragon roaring with strength.

**********

You were back at Driftmark. Your father scolded you, and Laenor. But it was worth it, you knew deep down he was proud of you. Quite the woman you were becoming, what did you need a husband for?

Your mother welcomed you with a hug that lasted for hours, she also reprimanded you though, “Still hot-headed.” And Laena hugged you as well. “I can’t believe you went off to war to escape your feelings from a certain Targaryen princess.” Your sister hissed, mocking you.

“I can’t believe you claimed Vhagar.” She smiled warmly at you. “I’ve missed you, little sister.”

“So have I.” Then you proceeded to visit your dragons.

**********

“Rhaenyra flew in here weeks ago. You were on the Stepstones. She seemed to be in a hurry. Like she sought rescue.” Laena nonchalantly depicted. Why would she?

“What did she want?”

“Other than to say hello to her favorite cousin, I have no idea. She said something about the King organizing a tour for her with the most noble lords in the Realm. At this time, she is to continue holding audiences for her hand in marriage.”

“Oh?” Rhaenyra on the search for a husband… that didn’t sit well with you.

“She’s to be here too.” The youngest Valeryon added.

“I doubt that she’ll find her golden knight here.” You scoffed, you couldn’t face her, not yet. “However, none of my business.” Laena looked at you incredulously but didn’t push it. “I will go to King’s Landing to check on the Queen. I didn’t even say goodbye the last time. Accompany me?”

“I’d love to, but I don’t want to leave mother. And you will surely be wrapped up.”

“Off with me then.” You said your farewells to your parents & siblings and set your route to the Capital.

**********

It was perfect timing, you thought. The Princess was touring the Realm, therefore she wouldn’t be any near the Keep, you could visit Alicent without fretting of seeing Rhaenyra.

You still loved her, that was very much true. It was different now though… you felt braver than you did those days back in Dragonstone when you fled and abandoned her. You owe an apology, to both of them really. “I’ll always be yours.” What did Alicent mean with that? Always be your best friend? Did she was enamored by you? Was that another reason for the girls to be in odds with one another? Were you to blame?

You arrived at the gates of the castle, you were nervous but masked it pretty well, then proceeded to greet the King, “Lady Y/N! So good to have you back. Your non-appearance hasn’t gone unnoticed.” Viserys hospitably welcomed you.

“Thank you, your Grace. I’ve missed it as badly. How’s Princess Rhaenyra?”

“She’s… disobeying me as usual. Don’t know if you are aware but we arranged a tour for her to choose her own consort. Yet she came back earlier than scheduled, moons for it to be over.” You opened your eyes in realization of what that meant, fortunately Viserys didn’t notice it.

“I see, your grace. That sounds a lot like her.”

“You’ve grown distant. That saddens me. Since her fifteenth nameday she’s hasn’t been the same, she’s upset and depressed. Perhaps you could rekindle your relation with her now that you’re both around.” He encouraged you, you played the part.

“You’re right, you’re Grace. That would warm my heart, hopefully hers too.” Rhaenyra did remember what happened that evening, it still burdened her, guilt swamping all over.

The tide was set the other way around. But you longed to see her, them.

Daemon was there, as expected. And you were invited to the gathering held in the goodswood to the younger prince’s honor. The King got somewhat drunk, and was sharing stories of his teenage years along with Daemon, who had a smirk on his face. The Queen and the Princess were there as well.

“Oh lady Y/N. Glad you could join us.” Viserys alluded to you in such an effortless manner, you approached them, situating in between him and Rhaenyra. “You know, this is also for you. I heard about your bravery on the latest war. You did brought fire and blood to the enemy. What is it you want as a reward for your courage? Never would expect you were a warrior but you are very much like your sire Lord Corlys.” Daemon sniggered under his teeth, and Alicent was blowed.

“It is not glory I’m after, nor a reward, your Grace. But I truly appreciate your nice words.”

“How modest. You’re one of a kind, my lady. Lucky the man that gets to keep you.”

“Yes, indeed very lucky.” Daemon mocked. You paid no mind. Viserys spoke again. Did the prince was always this annoying?

“My lady wife has told me about the trip you once ventured in together. Wandering the skies on dragonback. If I had a dragon myself, I could take her on a similar adventure. Just like my grandparents once did.”

“Yes, husband. I had a great time with lady Y/N. We visited the Citadel also, it was magical. I cherish it dearly.” Alicent reminisced fondly, so did you. The Princess shifted awkwardly.

“If you excuse me, I’ll go see the new tapestries displayed in the gallery.” She excused herself and dashed from you. Daemon tracking after her.

Shortly after, you requested to speak to the Queen alone.

“Before I start apologizing, let my tell you. You look stunning in that dress.”

“I was not sure that the Targaryen colors would fit me.” Alicent bashfully answered the compliment. You admired her under the afterglow.

“They certainly do. Red and black highlight your skin, your Grace.” She was as red as the morning sun, feeling like lady Alicent Hightower again, not “The Queen.”

“You flatter me. But what is that that I heard that you went to war? You didn’t even say goodbye, Y/N. I was left alone.” You felt bad, too selfish really to stick around Alicent’s side, but living in the same place that the silver-head was way too intoxicating, you wagered she hated you, not realizing you had hurt Her Grace along the way. “I…- realized that I have few friends lately.”

“I’m sorry, Alicent. I needed time away from court and also, you had your duties. Tending to the King, looking after your children. I can’t wait to meet the little princelings.” She softened, albeit, it was true, she had limited time to spare yet she would have found it for you.

“It’s okay, Y/N. You came back.”

“The King requests your presence, my Queen.” Rhaenyra declared, faking a courtesy.

“Thank you, stepdaughter.” She barely spared a glance to the Princess. “We will resume our conversation later.” You bowed and she was gone. Rhaenyra was walking away from you.

“Princess… may I speak with you for a minute?” You attempted. Rhaenyra didn’t stop her pace. “Rhaenyra.”

“My uncle is waiting for me.”

“How long are you going to ignore me?” The question coming more like an accusation. She turned around.

“I? You were the one that brushed me aside years ago. You didn’t care about seeking me out. You then left the city. You return and launch into her arms first. I do not owe you anything, Y/N” You didn’t have a reply, for it was the truth.

You did jilt her, and she was far from being over it. But you fairly did leave because you loved her, more than your heart could admit, and the fact that you couldn't be with her was too much to bear. Little did you know that that was all she wanted, even though you spurned her once you were younger, she still wished to court you, woo you. You were dying to tell her she swept you off your feet a long while back.

A big terrible lack of communication set your paradise ablaze, the two of you burned and turned to cinders, but… where there were fire, ashes remain, right? You were a wine stained gown, one Rhaenyra could no longer wear.

**********

Did Rhaenyra resented you? Or did she harbored her old feelings for you? She was a mystery, one you wanted to unravel. You love her, not past tense. You love her in the present.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t resume your talk with Her Grace, a servant girl came shyly to inform you that she was nursing her newborn daughter Haelena, and later the King might “need” her. You didn’t dwell on the last part, as it was a duty she had, yet in her face was written her distaste for her obligations.

Later that evening you derived in a lengthen bath. You lit up some candles, wrote a couple of letters meant for Driftmark and leaned on the big window frame that had a gorgeous view of the city. The Dragonpit and the Sept could be spotted from there. Averting your thoughts as far as possible from the Targaryen Princess, to no avail, then back to the young Queen, “Alicent must be exhausted, the King ought to let her have a break” you pondered.

When slumber was finally kicking in, all of the sudden, you listened loud thumps on your door, it startled you. One, two, three times in a row. You rose and unlocked it to find the culprit of your insomnia. The Princess was wearing common page-boy’s clothes. Her hair was messy, her lips slightly swallowed? She was trying to catch her breath.

“Ummh…-“ She studied you for a lingering moment.

“Are you not going to let me through?” You stepped aside while you closed the door. Puzzled and doubtful of her abrupt appearance.

“The hour is quite late, Princess. Are you lost?” You cursed and cringed at the dumb question you had just made. “Are you tipsy? And why are you wearing that?” Rhaenyra seemed overwhelmed by your interrogation.

“Nyke’ve missed ao, ao kostagon’t imagine skorkydoso olvie.” (I’ve missed you, you cannot imagine how much) The Realm’s Delight blunted out, you hardened. It does something to you when she starts speaking in Valyrian… “Skoro syt haven’t ao sought issa hen? (Why haven’t you sought me out?) Ao jikagon naejot zȳhon, se dōrī rūsīr issa. Skoro syt?” (You go to her, and not to me. Why?) Rhaenyra inquired with bitterness in her airing. You focused on your feet, a coward you were.

“Nyke…-“ (I…) What the hell were you suppose to say? She horned in, stepping closer to you. The atmosphere growing thicker and thicker.

“Ao fucking gūrotan zȳhon isse Silverwing. (You fucking took her on Silverwing) She snarled. Gaomagon ao jorrāelagon zȳhon?” (Do you love her?) Mere inches from your mouth, Rhaenyra stood dangerously near, not being cautious at all. You were to give in. “Daor, ao don’t. Ao jorrāelagon issa.” (No, you don’t. You love me) That was an statement. Her body was calling on you. You melted under her fiery, powerful gaze and grabbed onto dear life to her waist, splashing your lips with hers with pure desire.

Those embers rising from the dead, turning into raging flames. Rhaenyra shoved you roughly to your bed muttering no more word, she unbuttoned her shirt, removed your own garments just as rapidly, you were now completely naked.

“Take off my pants.” She commanded, you unfastened the zip and she climbed to your lap, tangling herself onto you, kissing you again. “I want your fingers inside me, your mouth, I want you.” She impeled, a wild animal ready to attack their prey. “I need you.”

Rhaenyra mentioned nothing about loving you that night, nothing about running away together or anything of the sort. Her hunger and thirst for you the only things present in that room. She was intoxicating, addicting, all your cares in the world gone once you were inside her and she you. Nothing else mattered.

You’ve been up in the clouds with her, and now you understood what it felt like to be consumed by dragon fire.

**********

The aftermath of such events have not left consequences, but what you learned afterwards stirred your feels.

In the morrow, the sun rays were making their way in, you found a small letter under your pillow, you unfolded it and peeped at Rhaenyra’s fancy handwriting. “Rhaenagon issa rȳ Rhaeny’s Hill, nyke jaelagon naejot show ao mirros.” (Meet me at Rhaeny’s Hill, I want to show you something)

You were beyond content for the night prior, Rhaenyra was all you ever wanted, the love of your life, you naively convinced yourself. Mayhaps this time around you could declare your love, flee to Dragonstone and wed. Fuck them all, you thought. We will make our stand if anyone should dare oppose. Surely she would leave it all behind, like she said those years ago.

There was already another potential heir, Aegon, Alicent’s son would be accepted, all Viserys had to do was change the proclamation. Rhaenyra and you could have your happy ending.

You were on your way to assemble with her, but halted on the way to glimpse at Rhaenyra and Alicent seemingly arguing. You’ve never been one to eavesdrop, yet curiosity got the best of you.

“What happened last night, Rhaenyra?” Alicent bluntly asked, she was taken aback. So were you. Alicent was angry no doubt. “My father made worrying allegations, that you’ve been with your uncle.”

“Well, yes. I haven’t seen him in years. We went out to have some fun in the city. What of it? Other than sneaking out of the castle and drinking wine. I did not do anything serious.”

“He said that you fucked Daemon in a pleasure house!” Alicent lowered her tone and curtly exclaimed, you made sense of the sentence. Your heart sank at it. Did she? she was with you…

“That is a vile accusation.” Rhaenyra retorted.

“You Targaryens do have queer costumes.”

“Daemon took me to several taverns, we got very drunk, yes. I wanted to go home but he wished to continue. He was my escort and without him I couldn’t head back, we ended up in a brothel, we did see a show there but I was solely a spectator. Then he ran off with some whore therefore I had to make my way to the Keep on my own anyway.” She concluded by embellishing word-for-word that "Daemon never touched her" at all and swore this on her mother's memory. If that was the version she had explained to you, would you actually believe it? Nothing else happened… Something was amiss.

“How do you think Y/N will react to these news?”

“She need not to find out.” Rhaenyra was now… planning on deliberating keeping secrets from you. Not from your protection but to save face. She went to you the way she did, because she WAS to have sex with Daemon but he got cold feet, so she then went to her alternative, to satisfy her own needs, ones aroused by another person? Your eyes were welling with sour tears. You were only a second choice, she didn’t miss you, she didn’t even love you anymore. You were merely a vessel, one she needed to find release, no love was involved.

“Why do you keep behaving like this, after me and the King have strived to find you a good, suitable match, you go putting yourself in a position where your virtue could be call into question. Spitting the ones that care?”

You ran off, unable to keep listening to the bickering, you climbed onto your dragon as fast as you could, shrugging off the one belonging to the culprit of your crying. You didn’t show to the Hill, for obvious reasons. Leaving Rhaenyra waiting until sundown with your favorite flowers and the same unhinged proposal.

**********

A couple of days have passed and you barely have spent time in the castle, instead riding all day. Alicent haven’t told you what she has learned, yet the rumors were all around like flies. You knew she didn’t because she was trying to shield you, to spare you the pain, not to save Rhaenyra of shame.

On the the third day since the conversation between them, it was announced that you would be traveling to High Tide, to propose the marriage between your brother Laenor and Rhaenyra. It hasn’t even been a week yet and now this? Rhaenyra was becoming your sister? The Gods were being cruel to you, punishing you for your sins, most likely. You knew of Laenor’s nature, as he did yours. As a matter of fact, your parents also knew, Corlys only to waved it off describing them as “phases”.

Lord Lyonel Strong has been made the new Hand of the King, surely Rhaenyra had Ser Otto dismissed from his rank for filling her father’s ears with his denouncements. He has always been calculated, he wants a Hightower on the throne.

It was good to be back, home always offering some fresh air. Laena politely invited the guests in, in the courtyard was Laenor with Ser Joffrey Lonmouth, a good friend of yours too, and his closest “companion”. You hugged them tightly, no welcoming party for your father was one to hold grudges, since the King rejected both his offers to marry their daughters a rift has been set between House Velaryon and the Iron Throne, you never would have wed His Grace though, thanks the heavens he didn’t persuade it nor ponder about the it too much.

“It is so rare to see you on a boat.” Your mother jested. “You never grant Silverwing a break.” You tittered warmly.

“Wherever has Laena gone to?”

“She’s with Rhaenyra. They’re having breakfast. Wanna join them?”

“No, no. It’s fine, I’m not hungry. How’s Meleys?” You shifted awkwardly and changed the subject, staring at the sea.

“Are you okay, daughter?” She looked at you expectantly. “I know that your love for her runs deep. I’m your mother, dear. A mother knows her children’s heart. Don’t shun your emotions, my darling girl. There’s nothing to be embarrass of. This is what’s best for our Houses, for the Realm. Your brother will do a good consort, your father may take advantage for his pride, know that I do not. I care about your happiness as well, you’ll find a pretty lady, or a maiden, you’ll find someone for you to spend your life with. That in my bones I know. And your mother will support you no matter what.” Rhaenys embraced you firmly, pecking your forehead. How lucky you were to have her.

Laenor encountered you nearby the beach. He approached you.

“I’m not enthusiastic for this marriage, Y/N. Not more than you, or her. It does not mean anything, I have just talked to her… we’ve come to a mutual arrangement; we will perform our duty for our families, produce heirs… but otherwise we will both continue having our own private romantic relationships. It will be hard, painful even. I am sorry, Y/N, so so sorry.”

“If I was a man, I could wed her instead of you. Everything would be perfect. Everything. A secret behind close doors…- I don’t know if I can do it.”

“Joffrey agreed to it. Better than nothing, better to lose you. She is very keen to you, she claimed to love somebody, genuinely… she did not say who. But she assured it, she was referring to you, Y/N.”

“It is not your fault, Laenor. I… I’m doomed to feel the way I do. I wish I could get over her and go on with my life.” There was resentment in your voice, hurt.

He gave you an apologetic smile, and squeezed your hand in a comforting manner. You would care not for the Throne nor political station, but for taking her to wife, a sad, sad reality.

**********

You were prepared to set sail, this time your whole family attending the latest royal wedding. You couldn’t find sleep as usual and headed to the balcony of the castle. A turmoil, one you so wretchedly wanted to get rid of.

“You are very, very elusive, my lady.” Rhaenyra’s voice startled you, your only exit was jumping off the cliff. “I’ve been trying to locate you.”

“Princess.” Again, she looked gorgeous, her hair down on her shoulders.

“You didn’t show up. Are we back here again?” We shared that night together, we were one. And yet… I’m once more a stranger to you?” She spat, wounded by your actions as if you were the one to blame.

“You got what you wanted, Rhaenyra. You have no use for me now.”

“What? What are you talking about? I need you, Y/N. Now more than ever.” She strolled closer, attempting to caress you. You deflected, her touch would only ignite a further wildfire.

“You needed somebody to fuck with!”

“Has Alicent uttered her gossips again? She does that to tear us apart, she’s always aiming for that.”

“No, Rhaenyra. Alicent has nothing to do with this, drop it.”

“My lady… I’m so confused right now. I came to you because I did miss you, we were separated for too long it was time we reconciled. I still want you, Y/N. As much as I did when we were fifteen. Things have changed, I’m the heir to the Throne, I’m to marry your brother, who would have visualized any of this? There’s a role I got to fulfill now, something that’s bigger than both of us. But that does not mean that we cannot still be intimate, I spoke to Laenor about it and he’s agreed.”

“You want me as what, as a lover? A friend? A companion? A whore?” The last noun was a whack to Rhaenyra, a punch to her heart and an insult to her alone.

“You’re unbelievable.” She stormed out from the rooftop, leaving you sniveling, for the hundredth time.

**********

The long-awaited royal wedding ceremonies finally began; first a grand feast in the Red Keep, to be followed by seven days of tournaments and spectacle, culminating with the marriage ceremony. The Velaryons arrived on their dragons, Laenor on Seasmoke, Laena on the older Vaghar, and your mother Rhaenys on the Red Queen, Meleys. Meanwhile, your father Corlys, yourself and the full Velaryon fleet rolled in the harbour, (Silverwing was nesting on the Dragonpit) as the city's bells tolled out to greeting you for the festivities. Alicent saluted you warmly, taking in your accent, you reciprocated.

At the Great Hall; Viserys and Rhaenyra sat at the middle of the high table set up in front of the throne's base and received each group of Lords with their respective families. You decided to contrast your sibling’s outfits by wearing an imposing golden dress. At the high table you sat beside Rhaenys and Laena. Daemon appeared out of nowhere, but you paid no heed to him.

Shortly after, Alicent entered through the main doors, intentionally interrupting the King in the middle of his speech. She was dressing in a green gown, her features cold as ice.

You engaged in a cordial chat with some of the Tyrell acquaintances you’ve made while visting Highgarden, Rhaenyra and Laenor were on the dance floor sharing the first ball, couples following behind.

“May I have this dance, my lady?” The youngest son of Lord Tully submitted his hand to you, he was being a total gentleman, but the glare Rhaenyra sent his way shot to kill.

You flown graciously side by side to her, cursing your pace, she saw this a good opportunity to whisper with audacity; Issi ao naejot sagon bisa āeksio’s, līve pār? (Are you to be this lord’s whore, then?) Rhaenyra taunted you, thanks the Gods no one there understood Valyrian, you didn’t get the chance to defend yourself at her boldly rudeness when you were swapped to dance with Laenor.

“You’ll have dozens of suitors after my wedding, dear sister. I bet none of them will be as infatuated with you as the Green Queen herself.” You poked him softly, he chortled. From across the room, Alicent was staring at you in awe, she was drooling and she care not to camouflage it.

However, you got distracted when you observed Rhaenyra and Daemon speaking to one another awfully close, it angered you, how dare them? Your blood boiling ever hotter when he grabbed harshly her cheeks, in an attempt to kiss her. The entire Hall was interrupted by a piercing cry from a different part of the feast floor.

A brawl has broken out in the packed room, but it became clear that at the center of it Criston Cole has begun pummeling Joffrey Lonmouth. Your brother managed to struggle his way through to them and tackled Criston off Joffrey, but Criston rose and punched out Laenor, resuming his aggressive punches. You watched from afar, having reached the high table, you spotted Rhaenyra being carried in the arms of Harwin Strong, you sighed but worried for your brother. That fucker murdered your brother’s lover and no one did nothing to seize him.

As the result of it, some hours later, all of the guests have been ordered out and King Viserys has cancelled the seven days of festivities and games leading to the wedding ceremony. Instead, determined to finish this as quickly as possible, Viserys called in the High Septon to wed Rhaenyra and Laenor in a private exchange of vows in front of their respective parents and close advisors, you among them of course, too shocked for the queer behavior of that “knight” (if he can be considered as that anymore). They were proclaimed husband and wife, Rhaenyra pretended you were not there, your heart breaking for the whole situation, and for the loss of your friend and your brother’s paramount. Alicent in the other corner with Viserys, he dropped to the floor in a full faint. They are not to consummate their marriage tonight, that was unquestionable.

**********

You felt nauseous, tossing and turning, you wanted to go flying but Silverwing was most certainly napping, you didn’t want to bother her just because you were a mess, again. The way Daemon and Rhaenyra were interacting with each other, you were repulsed by his fucking cockiness in her fucking wedding, her disrespectful and degrading comment. Recalling not so long ago she was in a brothel with him doing the Gods know what, jealousy, anger, sadness… all flooding you. And to make matters worse, she was officially married to Laenor, how were you to endure it? She didn’t fight for you, didn’t show you more than lust. It was too much, simply too much.

You got out of your chambers and found yourself on the Queen’s quarters, fortunately the King was beyond worn out from today to request her, you didn’t bother on waiting for Ser Harold to announce your presence, you shouted for her. “My Queen! My Queen!” You alarmed her and she was confused as to why would you be yelling her name this tardy.

“Ser Harold, you may go. Lady Y/N, come on in.” He did as instructed, you walked inside, she scowled, was she angry now too?

“Would you slap me if I were to kiss you right now, your Grace?” You cut to the chase. “May I?” Already breathing her in.

“You may.”

You pulled Alicent to you, pressed her mouth to yours, she was indeed mad, for Criston has told her he eavesdropped the night the accusation of the Princess and her uncle transpired, he longed for her as well, so out of range, by the brief chat he had with Ser Joffrey, and the constant rejection of the Princess, he had a breakdown. Alicent’s heart broke too, but in all honesty she saw it coming, she was only relived neither of you could get the other one with child, yet her hatred for Rhaenyra only grew darker. Alicent loathed Rhaenyra, but she did not despised you, on the contrary, she adored you with all her might, she was sick of being repressed by her feelings, by her “sins”, that she bursted and kissed you back like she’s never kissed anyone before.

She undressed more than her body to you, she demonstrated all the things she’s been feeling since you were on dragonback together, not a speck of regret in her. She was shy at first, way too unexperienced unlike the Princess, altogether she find out women are the only ones that make her feel this way. Never one of breaking vows, that night she stopped being a wife, a queen, she was a teenage girl making love with the one she loved, and you, you took her as she was, a mother of two, the consort of the King, a childhood friend. You were to discover your feelings for her, and it wasn’t like you were using her to get the Targaryen Princess out of your system… for it was impossible. It was all connected, but that night you made sure to reciprocate all that Alicent felt for you, and it wasn’t one sided at all.

[lizard-reads-the-world]

18 Afrofantasy Worlds to Read after you watch Wakanda Forever

So I see you guys love these lists and, hey, I’m not going to complain, I love looking at these sets of beautiful cover art. This theme is... Afro Fantasy Worlds! ♥♥ From alt-Cairo to alt-Johannesburg and many magical worlds in between, I’ve chosen 18 books full of African magic.

Add your favorites in the comments, too! I only ended up with two male MCs... that’s sadly a shortcoming in YA fantasy in general, although not every book here is YA.

Support my blog and read at the same time when you buy from the linked titles below, which go to Bookshop.org (where you support small bookshops, too!) Or get a free trial at Scribd for ebooks & audiobooks.

Beasts of Prey by Ayana Gray Fate binds two Black teenagers from different social classes together  as they strike a dangerous alliance to enter a magical jungle and hunt down the ancient creature menacing their home--and discover much more than they bargained for.

Daughters of Nri by Reni K. Amayo A gruesome war results in the old gods' departure from earth. The only remnants of their existence lie in two girls. Twins, separated at birth. Goddesses who grow up believing that they are human. Their epic journey of self-discovery as they embark on a path back to one another.

Everfair by Nisi Shawl A steampunk alternate-history novel set in the Belgian Congo. What if the African natives developed steam power ahead of their colonial oppressors? This land, named Everfair, is set aside as a safe haven, an imaginary Utopia for native populations of the Congo as well as escaped slaves returning from America and other places where African natives were being mistreated.

The Final Strife by Saara El-Arifi A fantasy trilogy with its roots in the mythology of Africa and Arabia, three women band together against a cruel empire where castes are divided by the color of one's blood.

A Master of Djinn by P. Djèlí Clark A young magical detective in 1912 Cairo must investigate the murders of a secret brotherhood dedicated to one of the most famous men in history, al-Jahiz, when the murderer claims to be al-Jahiz himself returned to condemn the modern age for its social oppressions

Raybearer by Jordan Ifueko Tarisai was raised in isolation by a mysterious, often absent mother known only as The Lady. The Lady sends her to compete to be chosen as one of the Crown Prince's Council of 11. If she's picked, she'll be joined with the other Council members through the Ray, a bond deeper than blood. That closeness is irresistible to Tarisai, who has always wanted to belong somewhere. But The Lady has other ideas, including a magical wish that Tarisai is compelled to obey: Kill the Crown Prince once she gains his trust.

Kingdom of Souls by Rena Barron Heir to two lines of powerful witchdoctors, Arrah yearns for magic of her own. Under the disapproving eye of her mother, the Kingdom's most powerful priestess and seer, she fears she may never be good enough. But when the Kingdom's children begin to disappear, Arrah is desperate enough to turn to a forbidden, dangerous ritual.

Son of the Storm by Suyi Davies Okungbowa Danso is a clever scholar on the cusp of achieving greatness--except he doesn't want it. Instead, he prefers to chase forbidden stories about what lies outside the city walls. But when Danso stumbles across a warrior wielding magic that shouldn't exist, he's put on a collision course with Bassa's darkest secrets. Drawn into the city's hidden history, he sets out on a journey beyond its borders.

The Theft of Sunlight by Intisar Khanani Children have been disappearing from across Menaiya for longer than Amraeya ni Ansarim can remember. When her friend's sister is snatched, Rae knows she can't look away any longer. She finds unexpected support from a foreign princess and a street thief with secrets of his own.

Blood Scion by Deborah Falayei They wanted me to be a monster. I will be the worst monster they ever created. Fifteen-year-old Sloane can incinerate an enemy at will--she is a Scion, a descendant of the ancient Orisha gods. When she is forcibly conscripted into the Lucis army, Sloane sees a new opportunity: to overcome the bloody challenges of Lucis training, and destroy them from within.

Skin of the Sea by Natasha Bowen Simi prayed to the gods, once. Now she serves them as Mami Wata--a mermaid--collecting the souls of those who die at sea and blessing their journeys back home. But when a living boy is thrown overboard, Simi goes against an ancient decree and does the unthinkable--she saves his life. And punishment awaits those who dare to defy the gods.

The Gilded Ones by Namina Forna On the day of the blood ceremony of her village, Deka's blood runs gold, the color of impurity-and Deka knows she will face a consequence worse than death. Then a mysterious woman comes to her with a choice: stay in the village and submit to her fate, or leave to fight for the emperor in an army of girls just like her. They are called alaki-near-immortals with rare gifts. And they are the only ones who can stop the empire's greatest threat.

Zoo City by Lauren Beukes Set in a world where murderers and other criminals acquire magical animals that are mystically bonded to them. Zinzi has a Sloth on her back, a dirty 419 scam habit, and a talent for finding lost things. When a little old lady turns up dead and the cops confiscate her last paycheck, Zinzi's forced to take on her least favorite kind of job -- missing persons.

Noor by Nnedi Okorafor In a near-future Nigeria. Anwuli Okwudili prefers to be called AO, Artificial Organism. Instead of viewing her strange body the way the world views it, as freakish, unnatural, even the work of the devil, AO embraces all that she is: A woman with a ton of major and necessary body augmentations. And then one day she goes to her local market and everything goes wrong.

Children of Blood and Bone by Tomi Adeyemi Zélie Adebola remembers when the soil of Orïsha hummed with magic. But everything changed the night magic disappeared. Under the orders of a ruthless king, maji were killed, leaving Zélie without a mother and her people without hope. Now Zélie has one chance to bring back magic and strike against the monarchy. With the help of a rogue princess, Zélie must outwit and outrun the crown prince, who is hell-bent on eradicating magic for good.

A River of Royal Blood by Amanda Joy Sixteen-year-old Eva is a princess, born with the magick of marrow and blood--a dark and terrible magick that hasn't been seen for generations in the vibrant but fractured country of Myre. Its last known practitioner was Queen Raina, who toppled the native khimaer royalty and massacred thousands, including her own sister, eight generations ago. Eva must now face her older sister, Isa, in a battle to the death if she hopes to ascend to the Ivory Throne.

Changa’s Safari by Milton Davis In the 15th century on the African Continent a young prince flees his homeland of Kongo, vowing to seek revenge for the murder of his father and the enslavement of his family and his people. He triumphs over the slavery and the fighting pits of Mogadishu to become a legendary fighter and respected merchant.

Waking Fire by Jean Louise Naira Khoum has only known life in Lagusa, a quiet village at the desert’s end. But to the rest of the world, Lagusa is a myth, its location shrouded in secrecy. While war rages to the north led by power-hungry Sothpike and his army of undead monsters called Dambi, Naira’s people live in peace. Until the impossible happens—Lagusa is attacked by a Mistress sent to do Sothpike’s bidding with a hoard of Dambi under her control.

Bonus: Daughters of Oduma by Moses Ose Utomi An elite female fighter must reenter the competition to protect her found family of younger sisters in this scintillating young adult fantasy inspired by West African culture.

[planetflorxa]

Gf!reader laying underneath abby as she does her push ups. Abby kissing her every time she comes down. Teasing you and kissing your nose instead of you lips to get you all ancy.

This is so cute..but idk how well I did

It’s no secret abby loved the gym. She would go there on her days off and even when she had to work. You on the other hand didn’t love the gym as much but you did love to watch her. So when she asked you to come with her cause her gym buddy canceled how could you possibly say no.

So there you were sitting on the mat next to abby while she was stretching before she started her workout session. You were sitting on your phone scrolling while abby moved her body in ways that imitate a cat. You looked up from your phone you just couldn’t help it not like abby minded that you were looking so she decided to put on a little show for you. Letting out grunts and huffs similar to the sounds she makes when she fucks you but less aggressive.

She loved how ancy you always got, when you watched her, and so easily too. “Wanna join me” she asked you coming up to sit on her knees “um okay?” you said putting your phone to the side of you. As soon as the last word left your mouth she pulled your leg making you slide towards her. She had you lay flat out on the mat with her hands placed on either side of your head body’s almost touching but not quite due to her planking. She remained eye contact with you as she went up and down everything on her body touching except for her lips which were just inches away from you. She smirked when she saw you shift from all her teasing. Abby knew you wanted a kiss she just want how far you can get before you begged her and it seems that she didn’t have to wait long.

"Abby please kiss me" You said looking up at her with the most gorgeous eyes she'd ever seen. She went back down placing a kiss on your nose. "Abby" you said shifting a bit more "please” i kissed you y/n" she said laughing "you know what I meant I said please too" She went back down kissing the side of you mouth right beside your lips. You were so cute when you were impatient she thought but you were even cuter when you were satisfied so she gave you both what you wanted. Her lips pressed against yours as her tongue slipped in your mouth. Before she pulled away to look at you.

“I love you y/n”

“I love you too abby” you said giggling

[thetoffeefox]

How The Protocol Feels About Gekkos Little Buddies Headcanons

Astra: Absolutely adores every single one of them. No reservations with any of them. She loves being able spend time with them and get to know each of their personalities. She has a soft spot for Dizzy

Breach: Surprisingly he does seem to mind them most of the time. There is this thing where if dizzy gets too excited she sploots on people. Not to mention the same thing with Thrash accidentally detaining the others due to excitement. Between all of them he tottally adores little wingman.

Brimstone: Not to say he dislikes the cute little creatures but hes awkward around them. Given the fact theyre stolen kingdom property and I fully 100% believe the man grew up with out pets he doesn't know how to act with them. Not to mention the time wingman took his laptop hostage.

Chamber: He doesn't hate them, but her certainly doesn't like them much. Between Dizzy splooting on the agents in excitement and wingman being the little clepto guy he is and stealing his teleporter he isn't exactly fond of them.

Cypher: Oh how this man finds these creatures so interesting....but also a bit of a handful. Wingman once again being a clepto and trying to help thinks taking the mans hat is acceptable. Cypher although frustrated still in some ways finds this very endearing and will always be gentle with the little bird like creature.

Fade: Doesn't openly express ot a lot but she loves all of them. Dizzy seems to have wormed her way into the nightmare womans heart due to her general calm personality.

Harbor: Lord have mercy this man is an animal man and although there is nothing else like these little guys he enjoys playing, snuggling, and entertaining them. Hes taught wingman how to surf using his artifact you cant change my mind about that.

Jett: She absolutely adores every single one of them, but prefers they stay away from the kitchen and her knives. Dont want them to get hurt. She very much enjoys Mosh.

Kay/o: He doesnt seem to dislike or like them. Finding them to be interesting he always tends to be very observing of them. For some reason Thrash seems to very much like the robot, so he often gets detained due to her excitement of seeing him.

Killjoy: She thinks theyre adorable especially when wingman IS NOT RUNNING OFF with her tech. She near had a heart attack when the little guy was running around with one of her swamp grenades.

Neon: Like Kj she finds them quite adorable. Doesn't seem to have really any reservations with them....Well except Thrash, she adores her but the affectionate creature does detain her often.

Omen: He is....Hes anxious around them. Fear is too strong of a word, but they make him ancy.

Phoenix: He thinks the little guys are cool. Nothing against Dizzy but hes hesitant around her because she might just sploot on his jacket or shoes. Wingman is as he likes to say is his little homie.

Raze: Not a single ounce of reservation is in this womans body towards these cute cuddly creatures. After seeing wingmans cleptic tendencies she keeps a sharp eye on her satchels and grenades. The woman would beat herself up if something happened to them due to her explosives. She has quite the affection for Mosh and Wingman

Reyna: Isnt going to openly show it but adores these little guys. Dizzy is her favorite and it seems she to enjoys the empress company.

Sage: Oh heavens they are cute but they do cause quite a bit of trouble at times. Being the mom figure of the protocal she often hears the complaints about Wingman taking off with something. Thrash detaining someone, or dizzy splooting on someone or something. At the end of the day though they are cute and a great addition to the team!!

Skye: She adores them and her pack has play dates with them. Thrash and dog have a good tug of war. Dizzy and her bird love going on flights. The play dates are the best days.

Sova: Wingman makes this man feel sich an unbridled joy. All of them do but the little bird like creature just makes this man melt. To the point where he indulges his nad habits of running off with things.

Viper: She isnt much of an animal person. She doesnt dis like or hate them. It's more she doesn't really like cleaning up after them or having to worry about them getting into things they shouldn't. Out of all of them she does find mosh endearing but that could be because he isnt really able to get into anything like wingman. Also, she is Moshes favorite person. He absolutely just loves and adores the cold woman. Theres times where she simply allows him to sit off to the side in her lab and he does so watching her the whole time in awe.

Yoru: He thinks theyre all cute but isnt going to admit that. He has an image and reputation to uphold. Although Dizzy has splooted on his head a time or two so he is a tad wary of her because well he really doesnt want his hair messed up.

[sundaybee]

One More Time (Julieta x Fem!Reader) Pt 20 (Finale)

We have finally reached the end!

As always I am not a native Spanish speaker, so if I butchered a sentence or word let me know so I may correct it.

This one ended up being super long so I hope it’s something you all find worth reading.

Part 20 of 20

I did not make the gif.

Things to note: Julieta is a widow. Reader is 30. Talks about depression early on.

Please don’t tear it apart too harshly!

You were bored. Everyone had their jobs and chores and you had nothing. Oftentimes Mirabel and Camilo stayed behind and you’d play games with them. Mirabel had also begun to teach you to sew but you weren’t very good at the task.

Sometimes you wanted to go for a walk but the children insisted you stay with them at casita. As the weeks dragged on you barely left the walls of the main house and you were ancy. 

You had no work, you were being held here; because no matter how much Julieta told you the teens loved you there was no way they were willingly giving up hours each day to keep your company. You had even begun to miss your little home. Casita was great but it cleaned itself. Julieta did all the cooking and insisted you just relax. 

Everyone was in a routine and you felt like you were in limbo. Drifting around useless to the people around you.

“I think I’d like to go home.” You told Julieta one evening as she cooked. She almost dropped the wooden spoon she was stirring with and turned to face you.

“Is everything okay?” She nervously asked.

“Of course…I just feel so useless here. I have no job. For some reason your family is holding me hostage and won’t let me venture past the yard. The house cleans itself and even you won’t let me help cook.” You said and sighed. 

Julieta hadn’t really thought about it, but it made sense. Your whole life had been uprooted and with your workaholic tendencies you haven’t adjusted well.

“Lo siento I never meant for you to feel like that.” She put the spoon down and sat beside you.

“It’s just, we’ve been working so hard on a surprise for you and we didn’t want it to get spoiled prematurely.”

Of everything that could have come out of the healer's mouth you never would have guessed you were being held hostage for a surprise.

“A surprise? You know I don’t need anything.” You said.

“I know you don’t, but all of us really wanted to do this for you. So tomorrow morning when Mirabel asks you to go to the fabric shop I need you to act like you don’t know anything.” Julieta said with a smile.

You raised a brow at the healer but agreed. 

Except Mirabel never asked you to accompany her anywhere. In fact you didn’t see Mirabel at all that morning. So when Julieta came home for lunch you couldn’t help but question her. 

“Y/N what are you doing here? You should be out with Mirabel.” Julieta said when she saw you sitting at the window.

“I haven’t seen Mirabel all day.”

Julieta scrunched up her brow.

“It’s not like her to just up and vanish like this. Do you think something happened to her?” Julieta said, worry was etched on her face. You were quick to approach her and take her hands.

“I’m sure she is okay. She’s a tough girl.” You said confidently.

“Still, I’d feel better if I knew where she was. Help me look?”

“Of course I’ll help.” You said. It was the first useful thing you’ve done in weeks, but you kept that thought to yourself.

The two of you walked side by side calling Mirabels’ name. You stopped and asked a few villagers if they’d seen the girl. The fourth person you asked had seen her and Julieta sighed in relief and the two of you were quick to follow his directions. 

You didn’t even realize your proximity to Palabras Suaves until you rounded the corner and froze.

“Surprise!” The Madrigal family along with many of your loyal customers shouted. 

“Do you like it?!” The not so missing Mirabel asked.

Before you stood a new building in the ashes of what was once your store. It was painted in bright vivid colors and had a beautifully carved sign above the door letting you know this was the rebirth of your sanctuary

Your mouth gaped and you looked like a fish. For the first time in your life you were truly stunned speechless. A nudge from the woman beside you drew your attention away from the storefront.

“You tricked me!” You said incredulously.

“Well of course. You knew something was going on so I had to throw the scent off us.” She teased.

You looked from Julieta, to the people gathered, and then again to the new Palabras Suaves. Your eyes began to water as you felt so overwhelmed with emotion. Julieta simply smiled and took your hand and led you to the front door before offering you a key.

“Go on, tell us what you think!” 

You looked from her shining eyes to the excited stares of the others before putting the key in the lock and entering the brand new store.

It was stunning. Isabella’s creations were tucked away in different locations. Mirabel has sewn her little fingers to the bone making new and improved overstuffed cushioned chairs. Books lined brand new shelves but the layout remained the same, including how you had previously organized the shop. 

Behind the counter, hanging on the wall was the photo you had tossed back to the ground. Your small toothy self smiled back at you and above the frame a piece of the original door frame was mounted. You didn’t know how they did it but there you saw your parents' names engraved on the wood, along with your own. 

You turned to face the family that was grinning from ear to ear at you.

“How did you do this?!”

“It wasn’t easy.” Pepa said.

“We came up with this plan a while ago and while our family are the known carpenters in town, most people know when we are building them something.” She added and nudged Luisa who grinned in response

“We have connections in the city and we were able to purchase and receive donations for all these books.” Alma said. She was already glancing over at the new and improved romance section.

“The reason Mirabel and Camilo kept you occupied for weeks was so you didn’t accidentally stumble upon the construction.” Julieta stated and grinned at your shocked expression.

Your jaw dropped. When Julieta said they had a surprise for you you thought…well you hadn’t thought! Never in your lifetime would you have guessed they had rebuilt your beloved store.

As you looked around you noticed more and more little details. Someone has definitely broken into your house and found your few remaining family photos and had them displayed. You discovered you had a much friendlier looking children’s section thanks to Antonio’s supervision. As you continued to move around you saw Isabela had added many more odd and unusual books to her favorite section.

Your favorite new addition was the board on display by the counter. Each Madrigal had written their favorite book and why they loved it as a recommendation for future customers.

You couldn’t take it anymore and you openly wept. Your heart swelled and you never could have imagined the amount of love you felt in that moment. This really was your family. The younger ones grew worried but the older generation knew they were tears of joy.

“How can I ever repay you for all of this?” You asked, facing the family and wiping the remaining tears away. Julieta approached you and fished into her apron pocket revealing the deed you had asked her to hold on to.

“You don’t need to repay us. We believe that we will never truly know how far a little kindness will go so we share it whenever we can.” She said with a knowing smile. 

You couldn’t help but laugh as you took the envelope. The two of you really had come full circle from when she first burst through your door all those months ago.

You couldn't help yourself as you grabbed her face and pulled her in for a deep kiss, earning a cheer from the group.

Bruno nudged Pepa, getting her attention. 

“Now that’s the vision I had.” He said, earning a laugh and playful shove from the red head.

When you parted Julieta was quick to grab your hand and drag you away from the family. Where she led you caused more tears to well up. The aisle that the two of you shared so many special moments together looked almost identical to what it had been previously. 

Julieta tugged you down to your chairs where the two mugs you had saved were waiting for you, as well as a plate of cookies. You each took your proper seats and you picked up your mug.

“Now don’t get any ideas about controlling this kitchen. This one is mine, Señora Madrigal.” You stated, earning an eye roll.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, and how many times do I need to tell you to call me Julieta?”

You raised your hand to your chin and tapped.

“Hmm at least one more time.”

[sleptwithinthesun]

fill for 🔥 on the fall snz prompts list... written for j/onathan b/yers, s/teve h/arrington, and n/ancy w/heeler. s/toncy, 0.6K words. kinda messy since i'm tired but i wanted to write something.

"Jon, are you alright?"

Steve's voice is husky, given the late hour, and full of concern, enough that Jonathan looks up at him from where he's quietly snuffling into his wrist. The roasting stick in the elder's hand is dangling dangerously close to the flames of their fire, remaining completely ignored by him as he stares at his boyfriend.

"Hm? Oh, I'm— I'm fine," Jonathan stutters, contradicting his statement a second later when he sneezes softly into his elbow. "utshh!"

"Bless you," Nancy says, her eyebrows pinching together in that way that means she's scrutinizing him. She hesitates for a moment, waiting to see if any more are coming, and relaxes when Jonathan shakes his head. "You got spacey for a moment there, hon."

Jonathan grimaces. They're coming up on the fourth anniversary of Will's disappearance, and his head always tends to get a little screwy around the time of year. To distract him from it, Nancy and Steve had taken him on a mini camping trip... in Steve's backyard. They all know being in the woods wouldn't go well. "Sorry, I didn't mean to."

"We know," Steve reassures, leaning in closer to Jonathan and dropping a quick kiss to his cheek. He's more than just a bit tipsy, an empty beer bottle tipped over and dripping its dregs into the dirt at his feet. The buzz in his veins spawns a small grin when he sees the tips of Jonathan's ears flush red. "Aw, Jon."

"He's adorable, isn't he?" Nancy asks, smiling and scooting closer to her boyfriends.

Jonathan groans. "Don't start with this again," he whines, letting himself relax into Steve. God, he really does radiate heat like a furnace. Normally, it's good for Jonathan, who tends to run a degree or two below the average body temperature, but it's a bit uncomfortable when they're already sitting around a fire.

"You are, though." Steve frowns a second later, pressing a palm into the small of Jonathan's back as his breaths begin to stutter. "Are you gonna sneeze again?"

"Y-hih-yeah..." he starts, shaking his head slightly as if it'll dislodge the itch. It takes a few seconds of trembling, panting breaths, before he snaps forward into his elbow. "huh'TSH!"

Nancy repositions herself so that she also has body contact with Jonathan, her shoulder rubbing softly against his. "Bless you, again."

"Thanks," Jonathan murmurs, letting Steve wrap an arm around his shoulders and tuck his head under his chin. He's always gotten more affectionate when he's drunk, and this time is no exception. Nancy shares a private little smile with him, leaning in as well. "Sorry, I don't know why I'm getting sneezy."

Steve laughs, and Jonathan feels the vibration more than hears the sound of it with the way his head is against his chest. "Only twice."

"So far," Nancy chimes in. "You know how he is; once he gets started, he's not going to stop."

True to her word, Jonathan inhales again, the sneeze coming on too fast for him to cover properly. He ends up aiming it into Steve's chest, the latter only humming and rubbing a casual hand between Jonathan's shoulder blades. "ht'shh-tsh-tch-sh-shuh!"

Nancy makes a worried little noise, almost tittering to herself. "There it is," she says in reference to the rapid fit, glancing back towards Steve's house. "Was that photic or is the smoke getting to you?"

Jonathan shrugs, and Steve straightens up, eyes bright with beer and worry. "Alright, Jon, let's get you inside."

"What? No, Steve, I'm fine. Don't worry about it," Jonathan protests, but Nancy's standing as well and nodding along. "Guys, it's fine."

"Shut up and let us take care of you," Nancy says sweetly, tone adopting a passive-aggressive edge, and Jonathan knows far better than to argue against it. Instead, he lets his boyfriend and girlfriend herd him into the house, only pausing once to let him sneeze, and then follows them into bed.

[rebelcliche-archived]

fandom: lol n/ancy is a prude; she doesn’t really care about / want to have sex; she was scared at thought of losing her virginity to s/teve me, an intellectual: ur wrong (except maybe about the virginity thing bc n/ancy would want that to be special).

she didn’t want to have sex with s/teve in her bedroom bc she wasn’t ready for that and didn’t want to feel used / didn’t like the situation. HOWEVER- the night of the party, she made sure to wear NEW, CUTE underwear because she figured they’d be having sex that night and she was okay with it. SHE is the one who initiates it. (and sure, the events of that night lead to her having unresolved trauma but that’s a story for a different day.)

she meets j/onathan to confront her feelings and sleep with him at m/urray’s and seems proud of herself the next day.

it’s shown in s3 and implied that she sneaks over to j/onathan’s house regularly, and in s3 it’s implied that they’d slept together while she literally sneaks out his window.

in s4 she’s suffering from the long distance relationship (knowing she probably hasn’t had sex with anyone in like a year) and on the verge of being broken up with j/onathan bc he’s avoiding her. and then the sexual attraction she feels towards s/teve is so strong you could literally cut it with a fucking knife. (and no, i’m not discussing whether her flirting with s/teve while still ‘technically’ being with j/onathan is right or wrong (even tho j/onathan was literally slo-mo breaking up with her and not speaking to her but shhhhh) she is allowed to look respectfully at s/teve bc he’s hot and anyone with eyes can see it).

so no, no one can tell me that n/ancy is a “prude” and doesn’t like sex. she’s high strung, yes, but tell me she wouldn’t like using sex as a stress reliever. you can’t.

there’s nothing wrong with women liking sex. they don’t have to all “hate” it or w/e. anyway, tangent over dlfkja;sd.

[discoscoob]

I’m convinced that a lot of Stedd*es fans don’t actually give a shit about Eddie. They use him more as a vessel. Whether they’re straight or queer, they project onto him in order to get to Steve. They don’t do it with Nancy because they hate women. They don’t do it with Robin because they don’t want to look lesbophobic. They probably secretly shipped him with Billy but once people started criticizing Billy’s character they stopped because they want to seem morally superior. With Eddissy shippers, they feel like the only shippers (except maybe j*ancy and R*nance) that actually care about both parts. Usually the male character is heavily favored more in m/f ships, but people seem to lean more towards favoring Chrissy rather then Eddie if anything. Stedd*es shippers hate it so much because it’s a wholesome ship, healthy ship that legitimately has nothing problematic about it but is still manages to be interesting.

First of all, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with projecting yourself on to a fictional character for a ship so I don’t think anyone should be shamed for it however I’ve seen a lot of accusations at hellcheer shippers that we’re just projecting onto Chrissy, as if people can’t project onto mlm ships. You absolutely can and people do, so I don’t know why they act superiors because they’re “not projecting.”

Not every hellcheer shipper is projecting, neither is every st/eddie shipper however there is people who are fans in both ships that are projecting and that’s okay.

The biggest proof for me that people are projecting onto Eddie is the fanfics where they both survive and have bat scars.

I have yet to see a version where Eddie is comforting Steve because he is feeling insecure about his scars it’s always the other way around.

If you asked me what would fit their characters better, since Steve seems to be the more vain (not meaning it in a bad way) of the two, it would make sense to me that Steve would be the one to feel insecure and Eddie would be the one to comfort him and make him feel better about it.

The fact they haven’t gone with the characterisation that makes sense tells me they’re projecting themselves into Eddie’s place so they can imagine themselves seeking validation and comfort from Steve.

Once again this is an absolute okay thing to do imo, I’m not shaming anyone for it. However since st/eddie’s have repeatedly shamed hellcheer shippers for projecting and basically generalised us by accusing us all of doing it. I’m just pointing out that some of them also use their ship for projecting and it’s nothing for us to shame them for and it’s nothing for them to shame any of us for.

Especially people who may relate to Chrissy because they’ve had their own experiences with ED or mental health issues or trauma or abuse from family members. They’re the last people who should be shamed or ridiculed for relating to or seeing themselves in a character.

[church-history]

Deir al-Surian: Saving ancient Christian manuscripts in Egypt

For twenty years now, an Anglo-Egyptian foundation has been working to preserve and restore one of the most prestigious collections of ancient manuscripts, which contain Christian texts of exceptional historical value that were secretly preserved for centuries.

Article by Jean Charles Putzolu:

It is one of the oldest monasteries known to the modern world. Deir al-Surian was founded in the 6th century A.D., although this is only a hypothesis common to several researchers.

In fact, St. Mary Deipara is one of the four monasteries that survived from among the six hundred or so that existed at the time, built between the third and sixth centuries.

Over the years, Deir al-Surian, located in the Nitrie desert, near Alexandria, in Lower Egypt, has been occupied by several monastic communities coming from the Levant and Ethiopia, but especially from Syria.

View of the Deir al-Surian monastery (photo: Angelica Tarnowska)

Three Syrian monks, Matthew, Abraham and Theodore, were responsible for establishing the first library of Christian manuscripts in the 9th century. In the 10th century, it was enriched with two hundred and fifty manuscripts that the then-abbot, Moses of Nisibis, had brought back from a five-year journey to Baghdad.

Since then, the Deir al-Surian monastery has contained the oldest Christian writings in Coptic, Syriac, Arabic and Ethiopian. The library also houses the works of early church Fathers, such as St. John Chrysostom and Gregory of Nyssa.

Exceptional unique manuscripts, long kept secret, even though in the 18th and 19th centuries some works were taken away by travelers and are now divided between the Vatican Library—offered to Pope Clement XI—and the British Library.

To stop the hemorrhaging, the monks of Deir al-Surian closed and sealed their library. It was ignored by the world for more than a century, until restoration work in the 1990s. (Click link to read full article)

[tragedy-for-sale]

@burntoutwizard 's thoughts continued from the last post

Tech only organizes at 4am, there's no exception. Now keep in mind, Tech is a drama queen.

◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

For several hours the Havoc Maruador had been quiet. The four had been peacefully sleeping in Wrecker's room. They had all been watching a movie and then called it a night. They had all been sleeping soundly, until now.

The youngest, Tech, woke up suddenly. Sitting up, springing with energy he became ancy and got up. He grabbed his goggles, putting them on as he left the quiet room. He scurried to his room and turned on the light. "Messy, messy messy" he mumbled as he put on his helmet and begun cleaning up.

Soon enough, he was blasting music through his helmet as he cleaned. Humming softly to the tune as he unplugged useless wires and tossed them in their designated bin. He moved all computers to their corner, cleaned his guns, held his galaxy-wide tour performance, and dusted. Though his room was smaller compared to the other rooms, he was cleaning for several hours.

Three hours past. The eldest, Hunter, woke up for his morning caf, hearing his brother's music and figured Tech was having another cleaning spree. Hunter decided not to bother him and went on to make breakfast for his brothers. When Crosshair and Wrecker got up, it really was Wrecker dragging Crosshair to the kitchen, he clearly didn't want to be up.

"Morning boys" Hunter smiled as he took some waffles out of the waffle maker, "Caf?" He asked as he grabbed two mugs.

Wrecker's face lit up, "Heck yeah I want caf!" He exclaimed, then turning to Crosshair, who was resting his head on the table drifting back to sleep. Wrecker poked his brother's cheek before looking back to Hunter, "He'll have two"

Hunter chuckled as he grabbed another mug and then the caf pot. "Ya'll know how long Tech's been up?" He asked as he started moving the mugs to the table, then the creamer.

"Nah, but I did wake up to use the bathroom and heard him having another concert" Wrecker stated as he poured a lot of creamer into his caf then even more in Crosshair's. "He's been quiet for a while"

Crosshair lifted his head from the table and started drinking his caf, "It's too bad early for one of his conc-

"AAAARGH!-"

The three jumped, Crosshair spilling his caf, Hunter flinging a waffle in the air, landing on Wrecker's face. "Hot waffle!" He screamed as he threw it on the table.

Hunter turned to the hall, "I reckon we should check on him." He mumbled quietly, as if he was expecting Tech to come bursting in the room. Crosshair nodded as he grabbed a rag to get the hot caf off his face. Wrecker instantly headed down the hall.

Hunter poked his head in Tech's room first, "Hey, Tech, you doing...okay?" Hunter asked, seeing his brother sprawled out on the floor with loud music blasting through his helmet, which had been tossed at the wall. "What happened bud?"

Tech didn't move from the floor, staring blankly at the ceiling. "I organized my entire krate-spttin' room only to think of a new project!" He screamed in anger. The three all shared a laugh at their brother. "My entire stupid room!" He exclaimed yet again, this time swinging his arms and legs in the air in a fit.

Crosshair had snuck back to bed, knowing Tech will keep them distracted for at least another thirty minutes. "..Why don't you just keep your room clean while working?" Wrecker asked as Hunter and him moved into the room, taking in how clean it looked. Tech simply gave Wrecker a glare,

"That's not how it works!"

[blueboxesandtrafficcones]

The Nuptial Necessity - Chapter 19

A 12xRose Human AU

Despite an unglamorous job description, Rose loves the work she does with The Thistle Foundation, a charity founded by her best friend’s great-uncle.  It doesn’t hurt that her boss, her friend’s father, is easy on the eyes.  With a great job, wonderful friends and a loving family, life couldn’t be better – except for having someone to share it with.

All of that is threatened, though, when the great-uncle dies – and sets a strange condition for his nephew to inherit, jeopardizing the Foundation and Rose’s future, sparking a chain of events that might just get her everything she dreamed of and more.

Chapters will be posted on Saturdays and Tuesdays.  Many thanks to my beta, @stupidsatsuma

Rated: Explicit, for eventual smut

@doctorroseprompts

AO3  |  Masterlist

—

Saturday (the morning after)

The blaring alarm startled Rose awake, and groaning, she swatted blindly at her bedside table until the noise stopped.  Once again in peaceful silence she buried her face deeper into her pillow, pouting slightly at having been woken up.  She’d been having the most marvelous dream; after the Gala, she’d persuaded Malcolm to come to bed with her, and they’d spent half the night making glorious love.

Rolling over at the sound of her door squeaking open, she became aware of several things at once; she was naked, she was sore in delicious places, and Malcolm was walking towards her carrying a tray loaded with breakfast and wearing a dressing gown.

“I hope you don’t mind, I thought we’d share breakfast in bed,” he murmured, stopping at the side of the bed, looking adorably flustered and shy given what they’d shared.

Wide awake now at the scent of bacon Rose nodded eagerly, pulling back the covers from the other side of the bed, accidentally flashing him in the process.  “Oops,” she giggled, pulling the sheet up to cover her breasts; he didn’t look particularly offended, instead running his eyes over her like a starving man.

“Let’s eat,” was all he said, handing her the tray before moving to climb back into the bed.

“Erm-”  When she nodded towards the dressing gown on the chair next to him he passed it over, and she gave an apologetic grin of thanks as she pulled it on while he got in.

“This looks lovely,” Rose observed, picking up one of the forks and diving in.  “Smells good, too.”

“Thanks.  On the weekends, I try to do a full fry-up – especially if Clara’s here.  I’ve gotten away from it over the past few years- seemed a waste to do all this for myself- but… now that I’m not alone here, it might be time to resume it.”

Grinning, she nudged his foot with her own.  “You can make me breakfast anytime.”  Then, realizing what she was implying, she blushed and shoved a forkful of eggs in her mouth.  He’s your husband, you shagged, don’t be so weird.  She stopped chewing as it occurred to her that just because they’d been… intimate, that didn’t automatically make them a couple.  Little conversation had occurred, other than him checking every so often that she was good with what they were doing.  No declarations of love had happened, nothing to indicate anything had changed between them except they’d now seen each other naked and… done things to each other.  Amazing things, granted, but…

She suddenly felt very exposed and vulnerable.

“So, what’s the plan?” she asked, nibbling on a piece of toast and drawing her dressing gown tighter around her with one hand.

He finished chewing, taking the time to set his fork down and have a mouthful of coffee before answering.  “We fly out of Heathrow up to Inverness, and the estate driver will meet us there.  Then it’s just roughly an hour’s drive north, and we’re there.”

“Sounds simple enough.  How long’s the flight?”

“About an hour and a half- Graham’s picking us up at nine, and we should arrive a little after two.  It’s part of why I made such a big breakfast- we’ll have lunch when we get there.”

Rose nodded in agreement, before biting her lip.  “Um…”

“What?”  Malcolm looked at her, concerned, and she tried to find the right way to phrase what she wanted to ask without offending him.

“Uh, do you- what would- any idea what the… menu will look like during our trip?” she asked nervously, pushing a runaway lock of hair behind her ear.  “Will it be…” she bit back weird, trying to find an alternative- “traditionally Scottish?”

He stared at her for a long moment before his lips twitched.  “No one’s going to try to force you to have haggis, if that’s your concern.”

“What about black pudding?”

“Nor that.”  His smile broke free.  “Fish, beef, lamb, venison… all possible, and perfectly normal.  I didn’t think you were picky?”

“I’m not,” she said, slightly defensively, “but… there are certain things that just…  Ugh.”  She shivered, making a face.  “And I don’t want to be rude, but it’s easier if I know going in.”

Leaning forward, Malcolm patted her leg.  “Relax.  I’m sure it will be fine.  Besides, I already called ahead and told our chef, Ianto, that we’d like fish and chips for lunch and lamb chops for dinner.  How’s that sound?”

“Brilliant,” Rose relaxed, thoroughly distracted by his hand on her leg; even through the sheet she could feel the warmth, and it was heating her blood.  “Sorry, I just- I’m nervous,” she confided in a rush.  “I want them to like me, and accept me, and I don’t want to embarrass you…”

“They will,” he said confidently, rubbing her thigh.  “They’ll love you, trust me.  How could they not?  And it’s far more likely that I will embarrass you.”

“True.  Thanks.”

She just hoped he was right.

-

 They settled into their seats, Rose still arguing with him.  “Are you sure you don’t want the window?”

He sighed, counted silently to ten, then said, “I’m absolutely certain.  I’ve got some paperwork to look over, and I want you to enjoy.  Look out the window, watch the country fly by.  I insist.”

“Fine.”  She huffed, belting herself in and fluffing her hair before looking around.  “You really didn’t need to book business class- it’s not even a two hour flight.”

“It’s not that expensive, and I wanted the extra room.  Besides, you’re going to spend the next week getting called ‘my lady’ – might as well start with the star treatment, eh?”

She gave him a shy smile, making his heart flutter.  “If you insist.”

“I do.”  He wanted to lean forward and kiss her, but wasn’t sure she would accept it- things were weird, a low-simmering tension between them.  When he’d woken they’d been spooned together, and it was heavenly, but he’d been nervous about how she would react when she woke up.  He had no idea if she felt the same as he did, if this was the start of a real relationship, or if she’d just been bored and horny and he was the closest bloke.  Based on all the evidence he suspected it was closer to the first than the second, but he didn’t know how close.  The last thing he wanted was for her to wake up and say it was a mistake.

So he took the coward’s way out.  She hadn’t seemed bothered by his rejoining her in bed, or sharing breakfast, but… that left a lot of room between where they seemed to be and where he wanted to be.

Because he wanted everything.

-

Over the past eight years of working together they’d taken a handful of business trips together.  Typically Rose would make all the arrangements for that and he would let her lead, but for this, he’d handled everything himself, and felt an absurd sense of self-pride that things had gone well.  The last thing he wanted was for their trip to get off to a rocky start.

Walking out through security, he spotted a lad with a sign reading Gallifrey and headed for it, wheeling their suitcases behind him as they approached.

“You Ross?”

“Lord Gallifrey?”  The young man looked startled, bowing his head lower than necessary, and Malcolm hid a smile at his nervousness; it had been a good ten years since Wallace was well enough to travel back to Scotland, so this would be the first time the lad met the owner of the Estate he worked on.  “An honor, my lord, may I take those?”  Then he craned his neck around Malcolm, who glanced back to see Rose practically hiding behind him.  “Er, Lady Gallifrey?”

“Hi,” Rose said sheepishly, wriggling her fingers in his direction as she came around to stand at Malcolm’s side.  “I’m Rose.”

“Yes, my lady.”  To his credit he didn’t bat an eye, keeping to the proper address, and Malcolm’s opinion of him soared.  “If it pleases you…”

Malcolm passed over the rolling suitcases, keeping his ever-present backpack with him, noting out of the corner of his eye Rose kept her purse and carry-bag as well.  It was a short walk to the car, and Malcolm found it upon himself to keep the idle chitchat going, the other two too nervous or uncomfortable to speak much.

Seeing the car he smiled, not bothering to tamp down his boyish joy.  For many years, his sole reason for looking forward to inheriting the estate was this car- he’d learned to drive in it, and had always admired how cool and elegant it looked.  He wasn’t a car man by any means, but this- this one he knew every inch of.

A canary-yellow Edwardian roadster, it had been lovingly restored several times by the family, and had been called Bessie for over fifty years.  It was as much a part of the family as he was, at this point; moreso, he’d argue, as it never really left the Estate.  He was sorry to see the top up, though it would be the more practical way to travel.  I’ll have to take Rose out for a ride on the grounds with it down.

“Still running well?” he asked when Ross joined him at the bonnet, which he’d popped to take a look.  “How often is she driven?  Is the Silver Dawn still around?”

“Yes, my lord, beautifully.  I tend to her everyday- I hope you find her to your satisfaction.  Take her through the property two or three times a week. Same for the Silver Dawn.  We have a modern Land Rover that’s used for more daily needs.”

Malcolm let the hood down, nodding.  “So far, yes, I’m satisfied. We’ll see how she handles- she was old when I was young.”

Rose snorted, leaning on the side of the car.  “Must be positively ancient, now, then,” she teased.

“Bite your tongue,” Malcolm rolled his eyes, returning to her and opening the door for her to enter.  “I’m not that old.  Still in the prime of life, me.”

She waited until he was situated next to her to respond.  With a coy grin and a hand on his knee, she said, “Oh, I know,” in a terribly flirty voice.

No question- this would be an interesting trip.

-

Rose stared out the window, watching the farmland go by.   She’d tried to listen as Malcolm peppered Ross with questions about how the Estate was doing and people he knew, but was almost instantly lost.  It didn’t help that his accent had grown thicker almost immediately; it was normally strong, easy to tell he was a Scotsman, but now…

She liked it.  A lot.

“What do you think of Scotland so far?” Malcolm asked, squeezing her hand and drawing her attention back to him.

“It’s beautiful,” she said honestly, giving him a bright smile.  “What are all the golden fields?”

“It’s rapeseed.  You make vegetable oil or protein meal out of it.  You’ll find it all over Scotland- I believe we grow some as well, don’t we Ross?”

“Aye, my lord, we do,” Ross confirmed.  “Is this your first trip to Scotland, my lady?”

Malcolm had to nudge her.  Right, that’s me.  I’ll never get used to this.  “Uh, yes, it is.  So far, I love it.”

“In just a little bit we’ll pass through some of the hills, and you may be in luck- I believe I spotted some heather on my trip down, which would be a treat.  By the end of the week, it should be out in full force.”

“Can’t wait.”

-

“Rose, we’re here.”

“Mhmmm.”  Blinking, she lifted her head from where it had apparently fallen on Malcolm’s shoulder to look out the window.  “We are?”

“Well, almost,” he conceded, “we’re about a mile from the gates, but I didn’t want you to miss your first look.”

Yawning, she rolled her head around to stretch her neck.  “Thanks.” Taking his proffered hand and linking their fingers together, she watched diligently out the window for any sign.

Only a minute or so later they came to a minor fork in the road, where it seemed the main road went left and a side road off to the right; a little cottage sat just behind the stone wall, which ended in pillars.  No gate crossed the road, but it had a distinct private feel to it.

“Here we are,” Malcolm confirmed, as they turned onto the side road.  “The house is about half a mile up.”

“Okay.”  She couldn’t see anything yet as the road was tree-lined, but her excitement was growing, as were her nerves.

He nudged her, and before she could ask what, they came around the curve to see a gorgeous house waiting for them.  The front of it contained three solid sections; the middle was Georgian-style, with a light-red brick front and a rounded portico.  The side sections were white-washed and bright.  The overall effect was of a beautiful, clean, well-maintained house, and her heart soared.  Knowing that neither Malcolm nor Wallace had been there in so long had had her concerned about what the state of it would be, imagining a damp and dreary rundown house in the middle of nowhere.

This was infinitely better than that.

“Oh,” she gasped, squeezing his hand.  “It’s spectacular.”

“Thank you,” Malcolm laughed.  “Want to see the inside?”

She nodded eagerly, and still holding hands, they made their way inside.