#otp: may we meet again

[nanakah]

yearly holic mourning

I can never escape my yearly xxxholic reminiscence, i'm already thinking about Yuuko and Watanuki and crying because of a Hatsune Miku eletroswing song that reminded me of my dead wife queen's aesthetic

i'm also still going down with this ship and clear card feels like a very, very long setup to tap into holic tomfoolery lololol

suga shikao is my mvp and あなたひとりだけ 幸せになることは 許されないのよ」 still lives rent free in my mind

[paranoid-doll-puff]

Source: x

[darlingofvalyria]

❝I am not a Valyrian Sex God.❞

part 03 | pucker up, buttercup

chapter summary:

[ The line of friendship dances in uncertain waters when you and Aemond play the fake dating game a little too well. Helaena reveals much more than meets the eye to Aegon, and vice versa. Oh, and Alys. Hi Alys! ]

[ 5,399 ] [ series masterlist ] | best friend's brother!aemond targaryen x f!reader, ft. cregan stark x f!reader & aemond targaryen x alys rivers,

contains— mostly fluff, a wee bit angsty, a little smutty - profanity, i swear a lot sorry too shhshs - no use of y/n - no gods, no kings, no betas.

a/n— thank you so much for the love this little fic is getting so far!! it truly warms my heart that you people enjoy my twisty, crackpot humour and my version of a modern au for these characters!! as much as i am grateful for george for making these characters and these stories, i have to say what propelled me to write is the beautiful community i found. truly, from the bottom of my heart. ❥ fandom is built on community. i would not have had the courage to start writing fanfiction again if not for ya'll. so thank you so much. for the consumers and the creators. you, us, are the beating heart of fandom. please take care of each other. + comment, reblog & like at will, mwa ♡

"Please tell me I haven't inhaled so much drugs in my system that I am hallucinating our— and I say this with a lot love, okay you know what? No. Our Nasty Little Bitch of A Grudge Holder we call, lovingly, a brother, is not dating the hottest friend you have? Hel? The hottest friend you told me if I ever came anywhere near, you'd rip me a new asshole? How is Aemond's asshole still intact?? Or does our brother just have a gaping fun-house slide down there? Hello? Hellooo, pay attention to meee. This is so rude, why didn't I call Daeron?"

"Because Daeron knows nothing and I know everything?" Hel snorts, finishing up re-naming Aemond's contact from CURRENT DUMB BRO to NASTY LITTLE BITCH OF A GRUDGE HOLDER, before turning to Aegon on her laptop.

Like she predicted, Aegon is already pouting, leaning back on what Helaena remembers is their grandfather's rum-coloured leather office chair. In his office. In Oldtown.

After a quick stint in Ibiza, it seems Helaena's brother had found himself back in the country, and worse— back in their grandfather's office. Without him in it.

"Grandpa's going to kill you." Helaena snorts. "How'd you even get inside his house?"

"This is not the first time I have been faced with a locked door, baby sister."

"You broke a window didn't you?"

"I really, really had to piss."

She rolls her eyes. Hard. "You are a boy. You can literally just pee anywhere."

Aegon flutters a gasp and a hand over his chest. "Excuse me? I may have a penis, but that does not mean I have to be uncouth. For shame, Helaena. Also disgusting. But that's not why I called." He steeples his fingers as he leans forward, pressing his elbows against the nice mahogany desk. "What the fuck is happening over there? I'll be there by tomorrow and I'd like to know what the fuck is happening before I start—" he wiggles his eyebrows salaciously, " — shaking things up."

A dark look crosses Helaena's usually amiable pretty face that has Aegon leaning back. "If you do anything— and I mean anything — to ruin what I have going on, Mother may help you for I certainly won't. The Stranger will look like an old friend, Egg, don't you fucking dare."

"What the fuck," Aegon exhales, wide-eyed and horrified. "Have you been watching M. Night Shyamalan movies again?"

"No," she lies. "I'm doing this for my OTP."

 "Oh my god, you're the one who roped them together?" Aegon strangles a sigh. "Lae-lae, we've talked about this. No matter how much you think they're cute, Aemond—"

"— Aemond and Alys broke up."

"Then they'll be together again before the weekend's out." Aegon rolls his eyes. "It's Aemond."

"Not like this." Hel shakes her head. "I got her to agree, Egg. And they're like... Gods, the pictures don't do them justice. They're magnetic. They make plans at the apartment, Aemond is there all the time— my OTP is happening."

"You are playing god between two people you care about."

"What else am I supposed to do?! They're obviously so hot for each other, and now that Alys is out of the picture, and she's there, right in front of him, Egg, you should see how it is between them. The energy. It's crackling. They have inside jokes, they're so comfortable with each other, and I will have the most beautiful nephew and niece—"

"—Helaena Targaryen," Aegon admonishes with finality. Hel quiets. Often times, the siblings forget Aegon is quintessentially the oldest sibling. They had never been close to their father's actual firstborn— the age gap is wide and there's just... too much complicated family fissures in between that it feels awkward, even when they're relationship is okay, to interact or consider Rhaenyra anything past a cousin you see every other holiday because you have to, much less now that their father's dead — so Aegon is their big brother.

And though they see it in bits, in flung comet pieces that you see preciously once every few hundred years— the vibe of big brother grasps the edges and reminds the younger siblings.

Sure, he's a dick. Sure, he's a whore. Sure, he's their mother's least and most favourite headache— but Aegon is their big brother.

"You cannot play puppeteer like this. This can blow up in their faces. And they care for each other. Their friends. If this blows up in their faces, it is going to hurt."

"I know that," Helaena says quietly, pout pinched but face mostly cleared. "You don't think I don't know?"

"I think you've already outweighed your chances and your choosing a possibility."

Helaena looks truly scolded at that point, and it juts a guilt down Aegon's stomach. But Aegon likes you. Maybe not like in the way that his brother likes you— in that intense, possessive way he gets with people and things he care about because there are so few of them — but he likes you. And he loves Aemond on a bad day, and likes him on a good one.

And Aegon knows, as a superior power about crashing and burning, that this is going to hurt both of you in ways that he truly doesn't think Helaena understands.

Because he isn't blind (as his brother) (bad joke?) (probably) to what he sees in Aemond's gaze when it looks at you. Sure it's possessive, sure it's the same way he looks at most people he keeps close to his heart.

But he was the one who saw how Aemond looked at you before Alys came into the picture. Before it morphed into nothing but platonic; morphed close to how he looks at Helaena. In that soft, I'm So Glad This Person Exists I Would Kill Literally Everyone For Them.

Aegon always thought he looked at you like he wanted to devour you. Etch you into his skin until your shape is in red marks across white plane. He looked at you like I Would Kill Myself If You Asked.

It was the possibility of devotion dipped in insanity. Aemond had so few things, much less people, who so vocally, physically, and emotionally cared for him without addendums.

The only real reason he never did anything before was because you were Helaena's best friend. Helaena loved you. And he couldn't destroy that alongside the fact that you might leave his side.

And then Alys happened and that focal point moved.

Aegon knew his brother. Not as intensely, and maybe that's the reason he could see it. To see clearly past the intensity and recognise its edges. Aegon knew his brother in his marrow.

"When this crashes and burns—"

"If!" Helaena quips stubbornly. "If it crashes and burns. Come home. You'll see, Egg. Aemond just needs to see."

"And what if she doesn't reciprocate, Lae-lae? She's not hard to love, and this is Aemond." Even Helaena knows his feelings, once taken root in whatever form, can blossom.

Helaena smiles softly. "Come home. You'll see. I can see it. I've seen it. The possibility of them, and it's so pretty, Egg."

It's really not all that pretty, fake dating.

Maybe it could be, but Aemond Targaryen is such an ass.

"This is not like The Devil Wears Prada fashion montage," you grumble, pinching off the big, 60s, yellow sunglasses off your nose to glare pointedly at the man sat on lounge chair. "All the zippers and tugging— this is not as pretty! And I look ridiculous! I don't wear dresses like these, Aemy!"

"You don't look ridiculous, you look like my girlfriend." He makes his emphasis with an inch raised eyebrow and pouty lips twitching not to laugh. "That's the point, is it not?"

You make a drawl huff. It's not just that his words were right— that's what the past hour has been, roaming around all these big named fashion brands where the staff just knows Aemond Targaryen, if not just by him sauntering in with all the swagger of an asshole you'd walk the other side of the street to ignore, then by the flash of his black card (or three, 'cause what the fuck is money to Targaryens holy shit) — but the way he's sitting as he appraises every look he's chosen for you.

He's lax, as could be in his usually perfect posture, with his hips in the middle, and one leg braced down whilst the other is raised to his other thigh. A confident man's sitting position, with an arm over the length of the sofa, balancing a champagne a trying-to-suppress-her-giddiness staff gave him.

At your disapproved glare— down on your nose at him because you're standing over him, lording over him, as he's sitting down — and he's smirking up at you. As if the power dynamics don't shift by whoever is looming over the other.

Aemond doesn't need to stand to make you feel all fluttery with a smirk and a strong gaze against your body. His eyes gaze from the bottom of your heeled toes, slow, slow, slow, until it reached the top of your head.

Surely you've only imagined his gaze lingering on certain parts of you that now felt hot and tingly.

Surely.

"Plus," he continues with a hum. A sip of champagne. "Isn't this your idea?"

"Yes, but—"

"Didn't you tell me that I should prepare the kind of outfits that Aemond Targaryen's girlfriend would wear—"

 "Yes, but I—"

He leans forward, taking pleasure in arguing with you, as he settles his elbows on his knees, pressing both of his feet flat on the tile. He's looking up, still, but his eyes are intense and the corner of his mouth is twitching from a grin he's trying to fight.

"And even when I told you that didn't matter, that whatever you wore would be fine, you insisted?"

"Because I thought it'd be fun!" you growl and he falls in faint, amused laughter. His eye is sparkling and there's a joy to him that makes you giddy. You truly have missed Aemond as you know him. "Because I wanted a fun dress-up montage, but nothing about this is fun! Why are you choosing so many goddamned zippers, and they're all so fucking tight?"

You plop beside him, stealing his champagne. Staff look away, trying not to ogle too much between you two. As you take sips of his drink, his hand, still over the sofa's arm, begin drawing idle circles on your exposed shoulders. It warms you and calms you down, melting further in the seat beside him.

"I liked the dresses," he finally murmurs. "The ones before this. The flowy fabric ones."

"Those are summer dresses," you say though don't know why.

"Hm," he hums. "You look pretty in them."

You look up at him and he's looking at you, a small smile on his face. The proximity is too near to be proper but not near enough if you're fake dating. You study his silver lashes and the scarred flesh.

"Thanks."

"We'll get them. Is that alright with you?"

You snort softly. "You're paying, Aemy. You can do whatever you want. Can't believe this is how your dates with Alys usually went."

Hatching plans meant unloading information about his former relationship with her. Going through their relationship so you could understand it better, better proportioned the good and the bad, and secretly, make him see the red flags that should jump out in clear, plastic red.

"Not at first." He's looking away now, but his finger is still drawing circles. There's a wistful tone to his voice, like seeing through a dream and a memory. "But when it got... bad, it seemed like the only time we weren't fighting was when we were in public. Almost subconsciously, whenever things got tensed, I'd offer to take us out. Do anything outside of our bubble. Money isn't an issue, and before Alys said she felt like a... cheap whore than a girlfriend, buying things for her, spending time looking through things to wear, to match almost, was safe."

"Gift Giving," you mutter with a nod. He turns.

"What was that?"

"A love language." He cocks his head. You sigh. "I mean it's stupid and not really theoretically accurate, but for fun, there's five types of love languages. People do this test thing and sort of box up the kind of love language you want to receive and what you give— but truly, in my opinion, a true kind of love demands all five for it to work."

He hums, intrigued. "And what are the five?"

"Words of Affirmation, Quality Time, Physical Touch, Acts of Service, Gift Giving. But, you know, all of those should be given by a partner, in increments they can do for you. There shouldn't be a boxed fixture of what your relationship could be."

You shrug, standing up and stretching. You don't see him looking at you in the way that he has been for the past few days, and he doesn't know the tingles and feelings you keep between a smile and a sigh.

"Love looks different for everyone but it should have the same concept."

"And what concept is that?"

You turn to him, smiling. "That if you truly love someone, you can try anything. Love doesn't demand things that you do for the simple reason that you love the person enough."

"Love can be complicated," he says, and he's not arguing, not really. He isn't begging for you to understand. He is simply saying.

"Love can," you agree. "As most things are complicated. But it doesn't have to hurt."

It's a boundary line, the way he blinks, remembering why you're here together, why he gets to touch you in intimate ways, why he gets to pay for clothes, why you spend this time with him. A jolt. A shock.

You don't press and he doesn't retreat. The line exists not just to remind, but to stabilise any projections. Any dangerous tones.

You simply smile, nodding at the time. "Dinner date, babycakes. We can't be late for reservations."

"We can be late for a few minutes," he says, remembering echoes of how Alys sometimes got late. It isn't really her fault; there are days when she's too busy at the law firm, too busy with a meeting or two, or still finishing up her makeup because she doesn't like going to dinner in her work clothes.

"Sure, but we're here together and I know how much you hate being late." You snort.

"I don't hate it."

"Sure, but you got that eye twitch you do when you're annoyed," you tease, tapping your own eye before you wink at him and skip away.

For the past few days since the bar incident, by your suggestion, you and Aemond had pour out the intricacies of how Aemond and Alys' relationship worked whilst hiding your true intention of making him see its faults and corners, and at the same time, continue on with the charade of dating him.

It's been a packed week or so, going to your shifts at the bar, meeting with Cregan once and a while (boy had been busy, and he found the entire thing with Aemond incredibly hilarious).

You answered no question mark in regards on who the hand was, only sent a winky face or a kiss blowing emoji. You continue to post minute representations of your no-longer-single status in brief intervals, making sure that you never name him. You never publicly give him a recognisable body.

But for those that knew, knew.

It really wasn't that hard. There were only so much pale, toned hands, so much body builds you can hide with your hand covering his general face that you can hide without people making smart guesses. There wasn't a lot of pale, toned people around you after all.

But in your refusal to name him, the question continues, and so does Alys silent observation of every post. The only story she had liked had been the very first one.

You often wonder what she thinks, before your mind is devoured once again with everything else.

To be fair, as often as you had both been seeing each other lately— and it has been the most often you have been seeing of him — there were still things outside of Aemond and Helaena plans. And Aemond still had UNI to focus on.

"You know, I often forget you're still in university," you say now, comfortably warm in Aemond's car. All fresh leather seat and crisp new car smell despite knowing that Aemond's had this unit now for at least a year. He maybe rich, but he knew what he liked and took care of them.

He shoots you a quizzical look before looking back at the road. The city is bathed in a gorgeous stream of oranges and pinks, tie-dying glass buildings and bustle of city roads. When you look at him, you smile softly at how pretty the light hits him.

"Why is that? Do I look that young?"

"Your vibe is so old man on a nine to three, cigar breaks by four, and whiskey sours by seven pm."

He makes a disgruntled sound at the back of his throat. You laugh. "I would like to think it's my altruistic classicism. A timeless endeavour."

"Sure, old man," you tease then sigh. "Reality is, I'm so much older than you. I'm hanging out with a child. On my free day. Is this what it means to reach low status?"

"I am not a child." His reply is sharp, cutting, almost offended.

"You're in college."

"And of legal age? You're only four years older."

"Oh, right."

"What?"

You smirk at his dark look. "You like 'em way older."

His face, much like his gaze, heats up. You're imaging it when the ride turns red, the car slows to a stop, and he is looking at your lips. Surely it was, because you got transfixed with the way his tongue darts out to wet his lips. A slow, tantalising movement.

It feels like an eternity stretched within three seconds. The light turns green and both of you turn away.

Well, there's been that. A few times. But it doesn't mean anything. Aemond is in that transition of trying to rid himself of bad habits, of being freshly single once again, and you know he and Alys get in on frequently. This had been a conversation a few days back, on a couch, smell of grease and pizza around the room while Murder She Wrote played in the background.

"Wait, wait, wait." You sat up, folding your legs underneath your butt, and giving Aemond your full attention with a little 'o' in your mouth.

"Wait!" Helaena calls playfully from her sway to the bathroom. "Imma pee!"

"Take care, my beloved!" you call back, before turning to Aemond with a big, Cheshire grin.

"Can we not dwell on it?" He's flustered but is trying not to show it, looking back to the TV as if he understood why there's a body on the plane.

But wine has been had, spilled and shared, and it's enough for you to grab that fluster and the topic, and smirked.

"No, no, we will talk about it. We shall! We must! Do you mean to tell me that by the end of it, most of the time, you two were just boning? Is Aemy, one of my favourite people in the world, a Valyrian Sex God?? Oh my god??"

"I am not a Valyrian Sex God."

"Okay, girly pop, please." You raised a hand in a 'talk to the hand' motion and he was smiling at you, entranced and frustrated. "Women talk, Aemy!"

There was a flush and Helaena came back. Wine did things to Helaena, and she was stumbling and giggling as she flopped behind you, turning around and encasing you in a koala hug.

"Women talk, baby bro." Helaena nodded sagely. "Even I try not to listen, they talk, alas."

"And Alys has said those hips—"  You pointed a j'accuse finger at his hips, then his mouth. "—and that tongue has done things that can make the Maiden blush."

Helaena groaned behind you're back, a slew of 'ew's escaping her mouth. And you were still being playful, teasing, but Aemond was looking at you, though scarlet, with a deepened expression.

And at that moment, both of you were thinking the same thing.

His chin brushing your thighs, your sighs like music to his ears, and his tongue making you scream.

Warmth pooled, twin expressions share a gaze. Hunger, desire, shame.

The connection was destroyed when Helaena abruptly jolted and fell down the carpet. Because she was holding onto you, you got pulled with her.

"Are you okay??" Aemond asked.

Hel gasped. "I thought I saw Bobby. I think I squished Bobby."

You shook your head. "You didn't. Bobby is spry. Bobby knows to move away."

Aemond's confused face peered down at both of you. "Who's Bobby?"

"The local spider that lives here."

"Of course." And he smiled.

You smiled back.

Helaena giggled beside you but when you ask her, she only shook her head.

And the silence that lulls in the car is like both of you reaching the very same memory and having to sit through the stifle of that drunken interaction about his sex life. He coughs, you let out a breathy giggle.

"I should admit something," he says, parking the car in front of the restaurant. Dusk is settling, sunset in bright red and orange turning to a cool blue and pretty lavender— and when you turn to him after getting out of the car, coddling your jacket close to your body, he looks nervy. Apologetic, almost.

"What? What'd you do?"

He bites his bottom lip. "I know something about this restaurant."

"I would assume. You chose it." Your eyes narrow, giving the black-out floor to ceiling windows a look. The Painted Table is lit up in a scrawled font on top of it.

You step inside, not bothering to turn to his call of your name, and is submerged by the restaurant's vibe. It's a darkened place with meaningful lighting but a casual air, a bar on the side, and an upbeat jazzy music dancing in the air — it looks good. The place smelled delicious.

Nothing about it sparked familiarity to you, but the anticipation from that look of guilt on his face brought you to a high-strung, so when he calls your name again, just behind you, you turn.

"Is this where you had your first date with Alys?"

He shakes his head. "No. No, but—"

"Aemond?"

The voice is familiar, and you don't stop enough to think before you're turning to the low, clear voice that's just a hint of husky, and Alys' green eyes go wide at your appearance.

She's dressed nice, dressed to go out in a black dress dipping low and fabric tangled around her body to show off her curves. Her inky hair was swept to one side and her mouth was bloodred.

Alys Rivers, owner of Aemond's firsts. The woman he seemingly can't let go off.

You smile. It feels fake. "Oh. Hi Alys."

Her shock staves off into a genuine smile that makes you guilty. "Hi, my love. I see you two are together. Always attached at the hip. Dinner?"

Before you nod— or maybe strangle Aemond — he comes forward, taking your hand in the process and lacing it. He's looking at her as if he's setting a challenge when Alys' eyes fall on your intertwined hands.

"Yes," he says. "We are."

"Well... that's good. This place is great. I—" Someone calls her name, she turns back. You shoot Aemond a withering glare you hope conveys how much you're going to beat his ass after this. She turns back, smiling still. There's a pinch between her eyes but it's gone by the third blink. "Well, I have to go. I'll see you both soon, okay?" She turns to you, stepping forward, not minding the Targaryen beside you. "Especially you. We haven't hung out in a while."

"That's true, I've missed you, you crazy witch." And she laughs and you smile, because you genuinely consider Alys to be one of your friends. Not maybe as deeply as Helaena's, or as close, but Alys was an amazing person and you enjoy her company.

Plus, right now the one you're angry about it solely the man holding your hand.

Alys turns to Aemond, and he stiffens. Between them is a complicated look. So many things unsaid, before her smirk softens. "It's nice to see you too, Aemond."

And she turns away, walking back to her table, to her date, when you tug him with you to the bar. As you order a dry martini, he speaks. Calm and soft.

"You're mad at me."

"You knew she was going to be here." You turn to him, arching an eyebrow, hating the way your chest pangs. "You stalked her and brought us here because you wanted to use me."

He shifts, face crumples at the word 'use' and calls your name in a plead. "It's not like that."

You snort, taking a sip of your drink when it arrives. "Don't lie."

"Okay. Yes, I did. I... I made an impulsive decision because I wanted to see how she could go on a date as if we were nothing." Bitterness cripples his words, the smirk on his lips is ironic and darkened in hurt. Your heart hurts for him, but you can't give him a pass just like that. He hurt you too.

"You could've told me."

He raises an eyebrow. "You would be okay with this?"

Your own smile is ironic and darkened by hurt. "You're already using me, Aemy. That was the deal I agreed, for Hel. It would at least lick the wound to have been in the know, and not, you know, got shot in the face with it."

At the first part of your tirade, he looked like he wanted to argue with the using part, but the realisation weighs him because it is true. To him, he is using you. And it's a cheap shot on your part because you were also doing this for him, out of your own free will.

You sigh when he turns away, guilt dipping low.

"You're such a dumbass."

He hums in agreement.

You're aware of a gaze from the tables, somewhere in the ocean of jazz music and chatter, Alys is looking, and you kinda wanna make this good for him. You were already here after all.

Your hand reaches his jaw, sliding across his neck until you reach his nape and fingers tangle with the baby hairs there. His hair had been wrapped into a bun. Sleek and fluffy.

He turns to you, to your touch, in shock. "What are you—"

"Try not to look so surprised," you whisper, stepping close to him until your noses are bumping. "We're supposed to be dating."

And then you slant your mouth against his.

TAGGED: @fan-goddess @snh96 @valeskafics @opheliaas-stuff @tempo-rary-fix @fantasticpeaceharmony @diannnnsss @iamavailablesstuff @spinachtz @at-a-rax-ia @bespinnn @tsujifreya @moonlightfoxx @kemillyfreitas @joyouart @bananzaa @honey-on-mars @alexa4040 @cinnamonbambii @wintrr13 @wxb-slingrr @astroswift @queenofshinigamis @helaenaluvr @kaetastic @jxdegodfrey @laniii-on-your-left @watercolorskyy @snowprincesa1 @gemini-mama

[minamorsart]

What , And how did you start pairing lotura, And Plance .?

Ooooh boy am I excited to answer this!!! This is going to be a long answer, hope you don't mind! Because I have some specific memories about these two ships, particularly lotura, that I would absolutely love to share with you!

Prepare for a long read! Hehe

Starting with lotura, when season 3 came out and Lotor made his debut, of course I was all 👀👀👀 Because that day something awoke in 19 year old me that I didn't realize could ever be awoken lol. And I wish I could remember exactly what my reaction was to his cat-and-mouse chase with Allura in the episode "The Hunted", but at the time I must not have considered the idea of them ever going in the direction of a romance. Looking back now though, how could I have been so blind??! That chase scene is HOT. I mean just look at them!!! Look at Lotor especially woah mama 😳

Season 4 was mediocre to me at the time, I will confess, for a lot of different reasons. But then season 5, man... SEASON 5!!!! I remember it was March 3rd, 2018. I wasn't keeping up with the show anymore, but I just so happened to see an article online that said season 5 had been released the day before on Netflix. I told my sister and we decided, "eh, let's watch at least the first episode."

And we watched the first episode, alright. And then another, and then another and another until we watched all six episodes in one sitting. We were both blown away! Lotor... Allura... together???? 😲

Their adventures, their chemistry, their clear attraction to one another... I was OBSESSED!!! I shipped them hardcore after that. They were and are still my #1 OTP, and it's because of them that I really tried to work hard and improve my art! I wanted to draw them all the time, making mini comics and AUs, and while their tragic ending actually left me in tears and I was upset for a really long time, I can now say that I have been able to heal and move on from it--eh, mostly anyway, haha.

It still hurts, but 5 years later I feel that I've matured and come to a greater understanding and acceptance. I have come to really appreciate how perfect they are for each other, both aesthetically of course (cuz lookit that sexual dimorphism babeyyy) as well as the many, many things they have in common. I have also come to appreciate their flaws, their imperfections, and the mistakes they made regarding each other and their relationship. They may have gotten a sad ending, but they were still truly equals in every way. It's just beautiful, and my love for them now is stronger than ever :')

For Lance and Pidge on the other hand, it's not quite as clear as when I started shipping them! I remember rolling my eyes at Lance and Allura's first meeting, like "okay Lance is one of THESE guys, here we go 🙄"

Other than that I didn't really ship Lance or Pidge with anyone! If I'm recalling correctly, I don't think it wasn't until after season 6 that I started shipping them together. I remember reading metas and analyses of their relationship that people were making in anticipation for season 7's release, and the more I thought about it, the more I started to really like the idea of Lance and Pidge getting together! And there are definitely subtle hints throughout the earlier seasons of Pidge's feelings for Lance, as well as their fun chemistry with one another, like the episode "Space Mall"!

The hints are not so subtle to me now, but back then it wasn't until I watched season 7 that I actually became hopeful that they could be a couple! I especially loved the moments when Pidge indirectly called Lance "cute, in a creepy, hideous sort of way" lol, and when Lance become very protective over Pidge in such a way that I don't think we ever saw him react before! I was honestly taken aback by that moment!

And again, their ending was definitely less than satisfactory, particularly Lance's ending (still hate it with a passion), but just like with Lotura's relationship, I have also come to appreciate many things about Plance's relationship today. While Lotor and Allura have so much in common and are able to reach an understanding with each other that they can't with anyone else, it would seem at first that Pidge and Lance are far too different to be compatible. And it is true that they are very different, but for one, that can be a good thing! The foundations of some relationships are built off of their differences. It can make someone more compassionate and more open-minded when they have a willingness to accept and appreciate the differences they have with their partner, and a willingness to take a genuine interest in the things that their partner is passionate about, even if they don't completely understand.

And two, at the same time, Pidge and Lance DO have things in common! They both love their families, both have a stronger connection to Earth compared to the other paladins, and they are able to bond with one another over fun pastimes such as video games! How cute is that??!

And just like with Lotor and Allura, I also love Pidge and Lance for their flaws. It did take me a while to come around to Lance, because while he has his funny moments and one-liners, I also found him very annoying at times lol. But I think the fact that he can be really annoying honestly makes him the most realistic character in Voltron. Not necessarily the most relatable, at least not for me, but definitely the most human! Because there are people in our real lives that we love and cherish deeply, but they absolutely have their moments where you go, "ugh, you're so annoying and it really frustrates me when you act this way" but we still wouldn't trade them for the world 🥰

And just to draw one last comparison between Lotura and Plance, I especially LOVE how incredibly different the two pairings are even from each other! To me, Lotor and Allura are sexy and passionate, while Pidge and Lance are pure and fun! They're all so unique and special in their own ways, and they bring so much to the table, both for their characters and for their relationships.

I can't help but write essays every time I get asks, I'm so sorry lol 😭 There's so much more I could say about these guys, but I think I'd better stop here haha! I had a lot of fun writing about Lotura and Plance, and I hope you had just as much fun reading this! I really love these characters a lot. I'm so incredibly grateful that they exist, even if in the form of fiction, and I'm even MORE grateful that my love for them has continued to grow over the years. Thank you so much for the ask!!!! 💖💜💙💚

Oh and one last thing: we were robbed of a lot of different potential interactions with a lot of different characters, but I have to say it would have been fun to see more of Lotor and Lance interacting with each other! Lance was always acting out due to his jealousy, while Lotor on the other hand mostly just ignored him lol.

[wexhappyxfew]

Also! 29 on OTP dialogue for Annie and Brady?

HI JAMIEEEE!!! thank you so much for this other prompt as well!!! sorry it took a bit to get to! :) i must say, this idea swirled in my head for a bit and then, when i felt things in writing were finally going the way i wanted them to, i felt ready to post this!! thank you again!!!! :D

a little while longer

(a/n): for the annie x brady girlies, with a mix of angst and fluff all at once!!! to say the least, these two have my whole heart and just !!!!!! there was an anon awhile back talking about brady freaking out if he ever saw annie injured or wounded in the slightest way - and well....here ya go! prompt: don't lie to me. i was there.

The soup was probably the best thing she could've had in that moment - despite what little warmth this place provided, the soup was sure to give her enough strength to keep her going. She'd been up most of the night with a nasty, wheezing cough, her nose running and her throat sore as all get-out. Now, with her stomach feeling sour, nose run red from the amount of times she'd wiped it, she felt like she'd been drug behind a truck and tried standing again. But, for now, this little bowl of soup was making her incredibly happy.

Annie looked up and towards where Brady was, sat taking up spoonful after spoonful of soup himself, getting every last bit her possibly could. She had to admit, she was worried about him more often than not - because he spent the majority of his time worrying about her, especially in the past few days. So seeing him eat his fill and focus on himself, settled her for the time being.

"Guys. Guys!" yelling started down the hallway, along with a banging all along the wooden walls of this sad excuse for barracks. Annie met Buck's eyes from beside her at the table and watched as everyone in the tiny bunk room looked towards the doorway to find Benny DeMarco racing in, eyes wide and bloodshot as he made an attempt to catch his breath.

"What is it, Benny?" Bucky said, pushing up from where he leaned against a bunk, forgetting about his soup and focused on the rather frantic nature of Benny there in front of them. Benny took a minute to catch his breath and then pointed outside.

"They got a new group comin' in. Margie may be in that group. We gotta go look." he said quickly, before disappearing again out the door. Annie watched that now-empty doorway and slowly turned to meet Kennedy and Bessie's eyes - there was something unspoken between the three of them that the boys hadn't entirely clued into or focused on. But coming in as a woman was one thing; having survived that level of interrogation was another.

Margie had to.

She had to be in that group.

She was more hopeful than half of them combined.

"Let's go." Annie said, moving to her feet, buttoning her coat and wrapped that scarf around her neck, "C'mon." She was the first out the door, hurrying down the hall, a few echoing footsteps behind her as she pushed outside and attempted to seek out Benny in the crowd. She caught sight of his beanie, and began, rather slowly, moving through the open area towards the gates.

As she got closer, she watched, as if in shaky, frantic real-time capture, as Benny moved along the fence, yelling out, over and over again, before tearing around the edge of the wiring and disappearing into the crowd.

Annie felt her face grow cold and stoic, her shoulders pressed high, her chin pointed up. Her heart pounded as she turned around the edge of the gate and found Benny there on the ground, pulling a rather fragile looking, collapsed, corpse of Margie Harlowe on the ground, her face bloodied, her clothing practically hanging off of her form, and her one shoulder looking twisted in all the wrong places. Then, standing over them, was whom she could only assume as one of the German soldiers who had been begrudgingly dragging Margie along.

This was one of her girls, her flight engineer; bright, sunny Margie, with that beautiful blonde hair that was now all haphazard angles around her shoulders, bright blue eyes that were red and filled with tears and beautiful rosy cheeks that were scarred and bloodied.

Annie slowly looked up at the German who stood silent and still, overtop where Margie was half alive in Benny's arms, her cries weak and pained, Benny's comfort only doing so much to erase the pain of reality.

Annie couldn't take it anymore.

She took three, wide steps forward right into the German's face, without much thought for her own self and stared up at him, her body rigid, her eyes narrowed.

"She's already half-dead," Annie practically spat out, "did you really have to drag her in the dirt like a dying dog!" Any sort of celebration and welcoming immediately went quiet as people turned to look at the female lieutenant who was currently losing it on one of the Germans. Annie's throat tightened.

"How can you just stand there!" Annie managed out again, but she knew she had messed up long before she even had opened her mouth. She should've stayed with her soup, let Benny handle all this. But she couldn't. This was one of her girls, this was Margie Harlowe.

Without warning, the German had grabbed her by the shoulders and swung her around him right into the dirt, her body hitting the ground with a rough whimper, her eyes closing at the pain shooting through her body.

"Annie, don't," came Margie's quiet cry.

"Don't touch her." Benny said, his voice drowned out by the sudden kick of the German's booted foot into Annie's side. She curled into a ball with a strangled cry, tears squeaking out of her eyes, her body begging for some sort of reprieve that wasn't this.

When the German had stepped away, angrily spitting down on her, she heard yelling and a commotion somewhere behind her, which was enough to make her sit up, weakly at that, looking past Benny and Margie in his arms and a few stragglers hanging about.

There, just past them, was Brady, screaming and yelling, being held back by Bucky and Murphy as best as they could hold him, Brady's eyes dead set on the German officer who walked away casually and calmly. Annie turned her quivering eyes to Brady again and watched as he broke free of the bodies holding him back and stomped across the open bit of land, taking his hands on the front of the Germans uniform and slamming him against the rusty wiring, yelling, over and over.

"Don't you dare fucking touch her again!" Brady yelled, his voice sounding like a wild animal's, guttural and raw, as the German yelled back, "Don't lie to me. I was there! I saw you hit her! Don't touch her again!" It didn't take long for the German officer to yell something in German, before swinging at Brady, sending him to the ground.

The brawl turned into a power struggle, the German kicking and punching Brady there on the ground, Brady all but weakened and defenseless. Finally, the two were separated and bodies were left behind and the few groupings that had been out were left behind by the Germans, only watched by guards in the towers. Annie watched as Bucky helped Brady to his feet, Brady struggling to find his footing, before ignoring any possible help, as he ambled over to Annie.

"Annie." he managed out, his voice sounding weak as he collapsed on the ground beside her, his hands reaching forward - he was always reaching for her, they always were with one another - and placing themselves against her cheeks, his thumbs rubbing in circles, "He should've never have hit you. I swear to fucking-"

"John." Annie whispered, slowly bringing her hands to his own cheeks, "You've gotta calm down."

"Not when they hit you, Annie. He did it because he-"

"John." she managed out again, "I'm okay. It's…..Margie." Brady watched her and some sort of realization seemed to hit him. He knew how important the women of Silver Bullets were to her, beyond anything, beyond even herself.

Slowly, the two looked over to Margie there, wrapped in Benny's arms, those tears running down her bloodied cheeks, grasping onto Benny like it was her lifeline. Annie managed to pull herself to her feet, Brady beside her, their hands linking to one another for some sort of support, before she fell to the ground in front of Benny and Margie, her hands shaking as she reached forward. Margie flinched at Annie's touch, her eyes immediately welling with tears - what could they have done to you?

"Hey, Margie, it's me." Annie whispered, reaching her hand forward and softly cupping the girl's cheek, brushing her thumb over her pink, wounded skin, "You're okay." Margie looked up at her with those water-filled blue eyes and let out a croaky cry, reaching up a free hand to lay gently against Annie's hand and nodded.

"I can't believe….I found…you all." Margie managed out, "Benny saw me first……I didn't want anyone to get hurt." Benny let out a quiet, wet laugh, as if holding in any tears he was trying not to shed. Annie looked to Brady, whose face had grown soft and gentle. Brady watched Annie, his face full of love and adoration, that same look she'd gotten the privilege of seeing anytime he watched her.

"You didn't have to go beat up any Germans, Brady." Margie managed out, her hand still grasping Annie's tightly, "You're too kind." The three of them laughed again at Margie's words, before Annie's eyes filled with tears and Margie seemed to notice.

"Don't cry, Bradshaw, I'm still here." Margie said softly, "Look at me."

"I thought you were dead," Annie managed out, her throat filled with emotion, "I should've looked for you….tried to get you to safety-"

"Don't go saying that, Bradshaw," Margie managed out, before letting out a wet, rattling cough, "I got to see Brady beat up a German for a bit. It was worth it."

"I promise it felt just as good as it looked." Brady said quietly.

"Don't give yourself that much credit." Benny offered and the group fell into small bits of laughter again.

By the time they'd gotten Margie up and in the comforting arms of Benny and Bucky who had come racing over like a bat out of hell, Annie had turned to Brady, looking at him bathed in cold sunshine, his face more stressed and sunken in these days, but still the Brady from that first day on base. They watched one another and she smiled slightly, reaching up to run a finger beside the cut near his eyebrow.

"Let me help you dress that," she whispered quietly, her hand cradling his cheek, as he watched her, "thank you for doing that." Brady clenched his jaw.

"He shouldn't have even touched you."

"I shouldn't have gotten in his face. I shouldn't have said a word-"

"You did the right thing, Annie, I know that. They gotta have a little humanity in this place."

"There's barely an ounce of that here." she whispered, voice sorrowful and sad. Brady watched her, before bringing up a hand to clasp around her one against his cheek. For a second, it looked like Brady was going to say something else, but he bit his tongue and continued to watch her instead.

"Does your chest hurt?" he whispered to her, "I'll help you wrap it. I'll scrounge some bandage."

"Only a little," she whispered back, "I'm more worried about your chest. He hit you pretty hard." Brady smiled softly at her and stepped forward, cradling her face in his hands, his beautiful eyes on her own.

"Let me take care of you." he whispered to her, "Let me hold you, just a little while longer." Annie stared up at him and flitted her eyes across his face and lips, before settling on that scar again.

"Only if you let me wrap up your chest." she whispered back to him.

"Only if I can wrap yours." he said back. She stared at him and then smiled softly, nodding, "Is it tender?"

"I'll be okay." she whispered, "You know that."

"I know." Brady whispered, "Sometimes I just….." Annie watched him, her big eyes holding him in her gaze, watching as he watched her back, their emotions hitting a head.

"What?" Annie asked quietly, her voice hidden it felt by the sweeping winds this place had. Brady couldn't get his eyes off her it felt, and like it were the most delicate thing in the world, he pulled her into his arms, probably the warmest hug she'd had since arriving here, and stayed like that. Her heart raced in his embrace and as he pulled back, she looked up into his face right in front of her and licked her lips. The corner of his mouth lifted upwards and she felt her body shiver. Something pulled her closer, she wanted to be closer than they already had been.

"Hey!" Brady and Annie seemed to bounce apart, and they turned to find Bucky walking closer, all smug, hands in his pockets, "We're gonna get Margie comfortable."

"Right." Annie said, stepping back and smoothing out her normally, crumpled clothes, catching Brady's eyes for a second and then pushing her hair behind her ears, "Let's go." She hurried away, towards where Benny was still walking with Margie, as Bucky came to Brady's side. Brady stared at Bucky, who smirked and clapped his shoulder.

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing," Bucky said, "quite the dragon slayer though, huh."

"Shut up."

"You tell her yet?"

"Shut up, Bucky."

[jade-green-butterfly]

💘💖~Happy Valentine’s Day 2024!~💖💘

🎶Watashitachi no sekai wa - mahou wo kakerarete, Ai suru to kime kisae - namida ni fuujirareteru, Boy futari de jumon wo sagashi ni ikou, Kinjirare ta yume wo - kanaerareru kuni he... (Our world is under a spell, Even the excitement of our love is sealed in our tears, Boy, let's go together to find that charm, To the land of where forbidden dreams may come true...) Dare ni mo naisho de - ashita machi awaseshiyou, Itsuka kotori wo ume ta - yoake no mieru oka de... Tsumetai asamoya - kimi to te wo tsunaidara, Hikaru michi no fuuin ga tokeru yo! Hateshinaku...~ (Alone, tomorrow, let's secretly meet, Up on the hill where small birds are buried... Someday, when I hold your hand in the cold morning mist, And the seal of the shining road will be broken! Forever...~) Kirawa retakunaikara - kokoro wokakushiteta... Warai kaketekuretane - hontoni ureshikatta, Boy watashi ni yuuki woataetehoshii, Kinoumadeno subete - zero nidekiru chikara... (I didn't wish to get heartbroken, so I hid my feelings... I was happy, for you gave me that smile, Boy, give me courage, To make everything that happened zero...) Dare nimo naishode - sotto kuchiduke shiyou, Itsuka yoma nakunatta - furui ehon no youni... Asatsuyu ichimen - kaze gakira mekasetara, Hikaru michi wa massuguni tsuduku yo! Dokomademo~ (Let's kiss quietly in secret, Like an old picture book we're unable to read... When the wind blows in the morning dew, The shining road will stretch on forever! Always~) Callin' you! Kanashi i yoru ha kimi no namae wo tonae runo... Callin' you! Sore wa sekai no kusari wohodoku jumon nano...~ (Callin' you! Calling out your name in a sad night... Callin' you! That will be the key to break the enchantment of the world...~) Dare nimonaishode- ashita machiawase shiyou, Itsukaminna tabidatsu - mirai no mie ru oka de, Tsume tai asa moya kimi to aru kidashitara... Hikaru michi wa massuguni tsuduku yo! Dokomademo...~ (Alone, tomorrow, let's secretly meet, On the hill where we can see the future of everyone's journeys, Someday, when I walk with you in the cold morning mist... The shining road will stretch on forever! Always...~)🎶

 - Aya Hiroshige, Sonic X (2003)

~🐶☀️💕🦋🦌~

It's that special time once again, to show your heart and spread the love to all you care for~💕💝💕🤗And this year, I would like to take opportunity to dedicate my annual Valentine to my newest OTP, Smiling Critter DogDay x my OC, DeerDelight~🐶☀️💘🦋🦌 I was thinking what songs would fit their ship, and one that stood out to me the most, was one I've listened to ever since I finished college, back in 2008 - 'Hikaru Michi' a.k.a 'The Shining Road', which is the second closing theme to the well-known anime, Sonic X~🎶I remember seeing a music video years ago with tender moments between Sonic and Amy Rose from the show, and that was when inspiration struck~💡💗✍️ I decided to draw DogDay and DeerDelight in the same emotional reunion with Sonic and Amy, where he promised he would never leave her ;w; But instead of a rose, I chose forget-me-nots for DogDay to give to DeerDelight. The reason, is the meaning behind them - a symbol of true love and devotion, declaring love to another and representing a promise that you will always remember them~💝 Forget-me-nots are also considered a symbol of fidelity (loyalty) and faithfulness~🫶🏻 And this is what is happening between the two adorable critters right now. With DogDay declaring his love to DeerDelight (something she had always secretly hoped and wished for~🌟🙏🏻) and vowing that he will never ever forget her, and will always be with her by her side, no matter what...~🥹To which DeerDelight emotionally yet happily accepts, as they seal their love with a tender kiss and embrace~🐶☀️💕🦋🦌

To give the wholesome moment between DogDay and DeerDelight more feeling, I decided to add the last three sentences of the last verse of the song, both in Japanese and English, along with adding details of the shadowing and falling tears, which I have to say I'm really proud of~👍🏻😊✨ ‘Sigh...~’💕😌I am ever so pleased of how this precious piece turned out, just the way I imagined it to be and I really enjoyed working on it too~💓🥰 And a very💗💘💝~Happy Valentine’s Day 2024~💝💘💗to you too, my lovelies~! =^o^=🫂Hope you all like as well, have a lovely day and spread the love~!💞🫶🏻💕😍💕🫶🏻💞xoxo.  

*~Reblogs are also deeply appreciated as well, so please do reblog as well as like! Thank-you kindly!~*

DogDay (c) Poppy Playtime/Mob Entertainment DeerDelight (c) @jade-green-butterfly (Me~!)

[emyn-arnens]

I’ve rounded up some of my favorite Aegnor/Andreth fics and put them into a rec list. Some are sweet, some are heartbreaking, some are a little of both, and all are beautifully written. Please leave a kudos and comment if you enjoy!

Note: Works marked with “character death” either begin with one or both of them dead, or one or both of them die during the course of the story. Links lead to AO3 or the SWG.

Across the Gulf by Antiheld (T, 3.1k):

A brief moment of rebelling against fates. Andreth/Aegnor Oneshot, AU(ish)

A Few Good Years to Spend by Verecunda (G, 4.7k):

“Tell him not to be reckless. Not to seek danger beyond need!” Once, Aegnor turned away from the desires of his heart. But when Finrod gives him a message from Andreth, the love he gave up so long ago will no longer be denied.

All in Patience, All in Haste by EilinelsGhost (G, ~700 words):

A month or two after the Athrabeth, Andreth receives another Arafinwëan visitor.

A Moth in Amber by Mithen (G, 1k, character death):

Andreth and Aegnor had one spring together, and each of them carried it in their hearts the rest of their lives.

Burnt Sugar by @sallysavestheday (G, ~200 words):

Aegnor and Andreth and fires in the dark.

Candlelight On Tapestry by amyfortuna (G, 1.1k, character death):

In the Halls of Mandos, Aegnor spends his time staring into memories and dreams, until he's shaken out of them by an unexpected meeting.

Clear Visions by @hhimring (T, 1.2k):

Aegnor sings to Andreth of Valinor.

For One Year, One Day, of the Flame by @cuarthol (T, 1.7k):

Andreth prepares for the approach of midwinter, while Aegnor seeks to right a choice from long ago, before it is too late.

Sharing by Ruiniel (T, 1.4k):

The concept of ‘mind-pictures’ in The Nature of Middle-earth is interesting to explore, applied an interpretation of it to this short scene featuring Aegnor and Andreth (trying to get back into writing for Tolkien). "In any case indemmar were by Men mostly received in sleep (dream). If received when bodily awake they were usually vague and phantom-like (and often caused fear) [...]" Slightly AU take on this one.

Though We Shall Not Leave by LadyBrooke (T, 5k, character death):

Aegnor died, but that does not mean he left Andreth's side for long.

Whither you go by Ruiniel (T, 1.3k, character death):

'Whither you go may you find light. Await us there, my brother - and me.' - from Athrabeth Finrod ah Andreth, J.R.R. Tolkien Months ago, tried a short ghost story about souls meeting again in a time out of time. Featuring the saddest OTP. The AU is on me (apologies).

Who will pity the candle and the moth? by @hhimring (T, ~200 words, character death):

A very brief encounter between Andreth and Aegnor after death. Maybe Nienna had her hand in it, allowing Andreth to linger for a short while among dead Elves. Or maybe not?

worth the candle by arriviste (G, 1.2k, character death):

“I cannot linger here,” Andreth says. That is a truth she knows. This is only a doorway. “Still we might snatch a little time,” says Aegnor. - Aegnor and Andreth meet in the Halls.

[karahalloway]

(Less Than) Noble Intentions: Chapter 18 - Diplomatica

Fandom: TRR

Pairing: Drake Walker x F!OC (Harper Gale)

Series Summary: The social season may be over, but Harper Gale’s problems are just beginning. With everyone at court a potential suspect, can she and Drake survive the engagement tour and get to the bottom of the plot against her and clear her name? An AU take of TRR2 featuring my OTP - Harper & Drake.

Masterlist: (Less Than) Noble Intentions

Chapter Summary: Harper, Olivia and the Beaumonts arrive in Rome... but not everyone is happy to see them

Word Count: 5,300

Rating/Warnings: None (for once 🤣)

Chapter theme song:

A/N1: Lots of Italian and random cultural/historical tidbits in this... but, then again, we are in Italy, so the foreign language aspect will be a bit of a running theme through the next few chapters (sorry...not sorry - I actually learnt some Italian in the process!)

A/N2: @aussiegurl1234, before you ask, yes, I HC that Vito bears a striking resemblance to Michele Morrone 😆

Chapter 18 - Diplomatica

"How is it hotter here than in Cordonia?" I gasp as I step out onto the jet's airstairs.

"Italy is a peninsula," Olivia says from behind me, slotting on a pair of Versace cat-eye shades. "It is more exposed to the anti-cyclones that blow up from the Sahara."

My mouth drops as I make my way down onto the steaming tarmac. "This heatwave... is coming from Africa?"

No wonder it feels like the inside of a furnace!

"It certainly isn't coming from the Arctic!" bemoans Bertrand as he shields his face from the intensity of the rays with an upraised hand. "Though what a welcome change that would be!"

"Brr...!" objects Maxwell with a shiver. "No thank you! I've had my yearly fill of sub-zero temps at Olivia's!"

"You're welcome," comes the snippy response as the Duchess of Lythikos strides past us.

"That said, turning the mercury down a few notches wouldn't hurt..." I remark, squinting accusatorily up at the beating sun.

"The summer heatwaves have been growing longer and more intense over recent years," Olivia advises from up front, "leading to consequent effects on food and water security, power generation, infrastructure, not to mention the added burden on the healthcare system across Europe. It is one of the items on the agenda for Christian's roundtable with the Italian Prime Minister tomorrow."

I frown as I arrive at the passenger-side door of the first in a trio of waiting Porsche Macan GTS's. "I thought this was supposed to be an engagement tour..."

"It is," she confirms as a black-suited Italian sporting close-cropped hair and aviators opens the door for her. "But any foreign visit involving a high-ranking head of state is — by its nature — a diplomatic event as well."

"I guess that makes sense," I concede, sliding into the relative reprieve offered by the SUV's A/C system. "Though you said Christian is meeting with the Prime Minister tomorrow... I thought that was supposed to be today. Did something change?"

"No," derides Bertrand as he settles in next to me. "Today, the King is partaking in a meet-and-greet with the Italian President, followed by a private audience with the Pope while the future Queen is fitted for her wedding trousseau, capped off by dinner and a performance of Tosca at the Teatro dell'Opera in the evening. While tomorrow we have been invited to brunch at the Cordonian Consulate, after which the King has a round-table discussion with the Prime Minister, and day will be closed out by a state gala."

"Oh," I mutter sheepishly. "So, the Prime Minister isn't the same as the President...?"

"The Prime Minister is the head of government, while the President is the head of state," the elder Beaumont instructs as Maxwell squishes himself into the backseat on the other side of me. "The roles are quite distinct."

"Of course they are..." I huff under my breath.

Seems like in addition to Olivia's list of influential Cordonian nobles, I will also need to memorise a textbook on European constitutional history...

Though, now I am doubly glad of the business-like, but nevertheless stylish pale pink, high-necked pencil dress that Bertrand foisted on me this morning — it definitely would not have been great to show up underdressed to such a high-level meeting!

"But we must hurry!" the elder Beaumont proclaims. "We are due at the Presidential Palace in just under an hour, and we still need to fight our way through the notoriously infernal Roman traffic!"

"Not to worry," Olivia assures us with a sly smirk from the front passenger seat. "Vito here knows all the shortcuts."

"That sounds ominous..." I mutter, reaching for the seatbelt on instinct.

"I prefer 'expeditious'," she counters, turning to Vito, who has now taken up position behind the wheel. "Andiamo."

"Certamente, Duchessa," he nods, throwing the car forward with a violent depression of the gas pedal.

The sudden acceleration yanks an inadvertent gasp from my lips as I'm thrown back in my seat... just like on that afternoon in Ramsford when Drake pulled the same stunt on the Beaumonts' driveway.

I feel my throat tighten as I glance inadvertently out the window. God, I hope he's okay...

I know in the back of my mind that I'm probably making myself anxious for no reason. Drake is an adult, perfectly capable of taking care of himself... including in close-quarters situations. He's demonstrated that to me plenty of times.

Yet, I still can't help but worry about him. Especially when he's off in a foreign country (all by himself for all I know...), having left with basically no good-bye, and with definitely no assurance of when he expects to get back.

And while I know that he is doing this for me — so we can collar Tariq and extract whatever information he has in relation to the plot to influence the outcome of the social season... and to answer for what he did to me in Applewood — the wait is killing me. I have no idea where he is, what he is doing, and whether he even has his phone turned on, given the high-stakes nature of his self-appointed task.

Which is why I have held off trying to reach out to him (...even though the baser, needier part of me is itching to do exactly that), as I don't want to be the one to interrupt a crucial moment by setting his phone off with an ill-timed call or text, especially considering the three-hour time difference...

I heave a breath.

I just have to trust him. Like he asked me to at every turn of this increasingly bumpy road that we've been travelling since I left New York. And hope that we are finally on our way out of the woods.

Exiting the boundaries of the airport, Vito navigates the Porsche onto a highway where we are able to pick up some speed. Olivia uses the opportunity to open up her phone, throwing some questions in Italian to her associate every so often as we cruise along. Bertrand is similarly occupied, while Maxwell has slipped on some Bose headphones and is bobbing away to the beat.

Which leaves me to stare somewhat aimlessly out the window, watching the scenery roll by in a bid to keep myself distracted.

But the reprieve ends up being somewhat of a welcome one. The various warehouses and road-side auto lots surrounding the airport quickly give way to a tree-lined thoroughfare, and I find myself basking in the calming effects of the greenery, not having expected to encounter such a bucolic sight on the road to a major urban centre.

Eventually, though, the vegetation gives way to the crumbling walls of some kind of expansive estate that we end up following for a good few miles until the asphalt road changes over to cobblestones and we pass in front the gates of a red-bricked stone fortress that looks like it's been plucked straight from the set of Game of Thrones.

"Wow..." I can't help but breathe as I take in the sight of the towering structure simmering under the light of the mid-morning sun.

"Le mura aureliane," advises Vito from up front, catching my awed expression through the rear-view mirror. "Costruita dall'imperatore Aureliano per difendere Roma dai barbari."

I nod distractedly, craning my neck as we turn a corner to follow the path of the ancient structure that is somehow still standing despite the clear ravages of time and weather.

Nothing lasts like this anymore...

Making another turn, we pass beneath an arched portion of the wall, and the road before us opens up into a leafy boulevard that takes us into the city proper. And from there, it's one jaw-dropping piece of architecture after another jostling for space between more modern buildings and seemingly never-ending rows of trees.

"I didn't expect Rome to be so green..." I admit to no one in particular as I eye up the unusual-looking shrubs.

"You can thank the Ancient Romans," supplies Bertrand without glancing up from his phone. "They planted the now-iconic stone pines in scores along the major roadways in part to serve as ornamentation, and in part to provide a steady supply of pine nuts, which are an essential ingredient in many dishes, including pesto and various pies and tarts."

"It certainly was worth the effort," I agree, watching the evergreens drift past on either side of us.

Though, as Bertrand predicted, the closer we get to the centre of the ancient capital, the increasingly chaotic the traffic becomes, with cars, buses and mopeds all vying for space on the roads, requiring Vito to make recourse to his own horn as well as various offensive gestures in order to narrowly avoid a slew of accidents... and I suddenly have a slightly better appreciation for why Drake drives the way he does. Because based on my experiences first in France and now in Italy, it appears that on the Mediterranean, might equals right when it comes to priority on the road, and unless you're forceful, you ain't getting nowhere.

Managing to finally extricate ourselves from the constraints of a complicated intersection, we end up on a quieter road running parallel to a long patch of bunkered-looking grass on our left.

"What's that?" I ask, tapping Vito on his shoulder.

"Il Circo Massimo," he advises.

My eyes widen. "That's the Circus Maximus?"

"Sì," he nods. "L'antico stadio romano costruito per le corse dei carri."

"Unbelievable..." I murmur, slumping back into my seat in awe.

There is nothing comparable back home — even the oldest still-extant pre-Columbian structures date to only the first millennia A.D. Whereas here we are, casually cruising past a seminal piece of history that is still embedded into the fabric of the city nearly three thousand years after its construction. And we haven't even seen the Colosseum, or the Forum yet!

Rome really is the Eternal City...

Leaving the green fields of the Circus behind us, we enter a more urban-looking environment as we start to climb a hill. The white- and sand-coloured buildings cluster closer together, and the general architecture becomes more uniformly Baroque, until we arrive in a large plaza dominated by a massive, Neo-Classical structure that towers over everything else.

"Il Vittoriano," Vito offers without prompting.

"Is that where we're having brunch with the President?" I ask, slack-mouthed as I stare up at the imposing building.

It certainly looks impressive enough to house the head of a country!

"Of course not!" admonishes Bertrand. "The Vittoriano is a symbolic collection of monuments built to commemorate the rule of King Victor Emmanuel II and the unification of Italy. The President resides at the Quirinal Palace, which is located on a wholly different Roman hill!"

"Oh," I mutter sheepishly.

"Like she is going to know the difference," scoffs Oliva from the front. "They don't even teach The Art of War in her schools... How can you expect her to know anything about Italian history?"

"Italian history is foundational history!" insists Bertrand. "The Romans were instrumental in shaping not just the course of European, but Northern African and Middle Eastern events for millennia! How can they neglect to teach American children about this?"

"Because the focus is on US history," I tell them wearily as Vito navigates us to the other side of the square.

"Surely that is an afternoon's worth of lessons at most?" the elder Beaumont queries sceptically. "Your country was only founded in the conventional sense of the word in the mid-1600s..."

"Most Americans haven't been to Europe," I remind him, watching the rows of buildings flick past on either side of us as we begin the ascent up another hill. "They don't necessarily have a basis of comparison."

"Sounds like your curriculum is somewhat lacking in scope, then..." he surmises with pursed lips.

"Yeah, well..." I retort dryly, "I don't write the textbooks. Though, speaking of education, is there any chance for some sightseeing? It would be a shame to spend two days here and not actually see anything..."

"While I wholeheartedly approve of the sentiment," Bertrand replies, "I am afraid that you will have to make do with the cultural experiences offered by the various host venues on the official itinerary. Which — I admit — are no Pantheon, or Sistine Chapel, but are impressive and important cultural artefacts, nevertheless. The Quirinal Palace, for instance, so named for the Quirinal Hill on which it sits, is actually the sixth largest palace in the world and has served as the primary residence of such notable figures as—"

I let out a low exhale as Bertrand launches into a full-blown historical recital. And while the details are definitely interesting, I didn't come all this way to listen to a one-man rendition of a Roman guidebook.

Which makes me all the more determined to find some kind of opportunity to slip away from the official tour — even if it's just for an hour to toss a coin into the Trevi Fountain — so that I can experience something of the magic that this breathtaking city has to offer.

When, I have no idea, given the busyness of our schedule, but I managed to orchestrate an escape plan to see the capital back in Cordonia, so I'm confident I'll be able to pull something similar... albeit without Drake's help this time. But despite the set-backs, I'm not about to miss out on this kind of once-in-a-lifetime experience...

With my intention firmly set, the car rounds an uphill corner, and we are suddenly on the edge of yet another expansive plaza secured by a rim of strategically placed concrete planters and a pair of police cars.

Vito pulls to a stop and slides the window down to exchange a few quick words with the officer who has come to greet us.

"Passports," instructs Olivia, reaching into her purse.

Opening up the white, Medusa emblazoned Versace clutch sitting on my lap — which I am sure cost more than what I would've ever made in a month working as a waitress back home, but which Bertrand had insisted on as a 'necessary' Italian-themed accessory — I pull out my shiny, new Cordonian passport and pass it to the front.

Maxwell and Bertrand do the same, and there is a couple of minutes of tense silence while the stern-looking officer inspects each document to verify our identities, while another policeman does a circuit 'round the car with a convex safety mirror.

Finally, the policeman hands the passports back with a curt nod, and waves us through.

"Were they not expecting us?" I query as I slot my credentials away again.

"They were," Olivia advises. "But we are arriving separately from the royal delegation, so the State Police are obligated to run a security check."

"Why?"

The Duchess of Lythikos scoffs back at me. "To ensure that we are not terrorists trying to kill the President with a car bomb... Or did that part go over your head?"

"No..." I hit back sarcastically. "I meant why are we arriving separately?"

She looks back at me with an arched brow. "Would you have preferred to deal with the press?"

"I... No," I admit.

She turns back to the front with a smirk. "Didn't think so."

Vito pulls the car to a stop in front of a small courtyard decked out with a red carpet and intertwined streamers made out in the colours of Cordonia's and Italy's flags. Allard and Schweitzer — who had been travelling in the car behind us — appear to open the doors for us.

Bertrand scoots out of the backseat first, before turning back to offer me his hand.

"Thanks," I say with a sincere smile, grasping his fingers to help pull myself up.

"Always my pleasure," he replies with a genuine smile.

Smoothing my skirt, I gaze up at the somewhat understated-looking entranceway, suddenly nervous about the prospect of acting as a newly-minted ambassador of Cordonia. I mean... three months ago, I was bussing tables at a dive bar for less than minimum wage, and now here I am, decked out in clothes that cost more than the rent I was paying for a fifth-storey walk-up, about to have an official meeting with a foreign country's head of state.

To say that I feel like a fraud is a massive understatement.

"What are you waiting for?" asks Olivia, breezing past me with all the confidence of a woman who's done this a hundred times before... probably because she has. "For the grass to grow?"

"I—"

"I heard the President loves chocolate bomboloni," offers Maxwell enthusiastically, linking his arm through mine to tug me down the length of the red carpet.

"What's...that?" I ask, forcing myself to swallow down the sudden dryness in my throat.

Maxwell's face collapses into an aghast look of shock. "Only the best pastry-based dessert! Second only to cronuts, of course!"

"That's definitely a high bar to hit," I admit.

"Think mini doughnuts with gooey chocolate filling, dusted with powdered sugar," he explains. "They literally melt in your mouth!"

"Except we are not here to indulge infantile cravings for sugary treats," reprimands Bertrand as we pass through the arched doorway. "We are here to partake in important discussions relating to matters of state, and t—"

"Pfft," scoffs Olivia. "Speak for yourself, Beaumont. These meetings are dull as shite. I'm here for the sweets."

I can't help but snort at the unexpected riposte... as well as the resultant sight of Bertrand's jaw hitting the parquet flooring. And I unexpectedly find myself feeling better about the whole experience. Because despite whatever nerves I may be feeling, the fact that Olivia and the Beaumonts are with me means that I am not alone in this.

Passing into the coolness of the building, we are greeted by a middle-aged woman who proceeds to lead us through a veritable rabbit warren of ante-rooms and corridors before we finally arrive in an expansive room dominated by a pair of jaw-dropping crystal chandeliers suspended from a vaulted, hand-painted ceiling.

"La Salle Bronzino," informs our guide, indicating that we should step through.

"Wow..." I breathe, trying to take in the opulence with as much composure as I can.

A slew of camera shutters click to life upon our arrival.

Jerking my gaze down from the delicate, celestial fresco above me, I spot the handful of photographers aiming their lenses at me.

I stifle a groan as I plaster a demure smile onto my face. "I thought you said there wouldn't be any reporters."

"This is an official state visit," Bertrand hisses out of the corner of his mouth. "Of course, there will be reporters!

"Just not as many as there would have been outside earlier," Olivia assures me.

My shoulders slump in acquiescence. "Take the wins you can get, I guess..."

"Ah, you made it!" exclaims Christian, striding up to us with a jovial grin. "Traffic wasn't too terrible, I hope?"

"Nothing Vito couldn't handle," Olivia assures him, dipping into a chaste curtesy as the photographers snap eagerly away.

Christian turns to me with a good-natured chuckle. "And Lady Harper... First impressions haven't put you off, have they?"

"No," I assure him, bobbing down politely as well, knowing that everyone in the room now has their eyes on us. "The exact opposite, actually."

"Excellent," he beams, holding my gaze for a second longer than he did with Olivia. "I have to admit that I have a bit of a soft spot for Rome, myself."

"It really is a—"

"Darling," interjects Madeleine with a steely smile, appearing at her fiancé's shoulder. "You really should focus your attentions on the President. He has been gracious enough to open up his home for us, after all..."

Christian's nostrils flare with the briefest flash of irritation as he pulls back slightly. "Quite. Let us go make the necessary introductions."

Madeleine bristles. "That is not what I—"

Deftly ignoring her, Christian extends his arm decisively towards an elderly man wearing a sombre suit and gold-rimmed glasses. "Shall we?"

"I guess so?" I concede, already feeling myself being steered past the silently fuming countess.

"Now remember," Bertrand mutters next to me as Christian leads us down the length of the room. "In the context of a formal conversation, it is always lei — never tu — when addressing your counterpart, so for the love of all that is holy, please do not—"

"Singor Presidente," proclaims Christian as he pulls to a stop. "Permettetemi di presentarvi altri membri della nostra delegazione."

The President raises his head dutifully. "Certamente."

"Questo è Singor Bertrand Beaumont, duca di Ramsford, e suo fratello, Maxwell."

The Beaumonts bow their heads dutifully.

"Beaumont..." the President frowns. "Sai, mi suona familiare. Sei parente di Signor Bartholemy, per caso?"

"Sì," Bertrand confirms. "Egli è nostro padre."

The President is nodding in recollection. "Sì... sì... Ha accompagnato il re precedente in molte occasioni. Sei molto simile a lui."

"Sì, la somiglianza di famiglia è forte," Bertrand acknowledges.

"E questa è Singorina Olivia Nevrakis, duchessa di Lythikos, un mio carissimo amico, e fedele sostenitrice del famiglia Rys."

Olivia holds out her hand. "E' un piacere conoscerla, Signore Presidente."

The President drops a chaste kiss on the back of her hand. "Il piacere è tutto mio."

"E finalmente," concludes Christian, "questa è Singorina Harper, la nuova duchessa di Valtoria."

The President's brows arc inquisitively. "Singorina Harper... You are... American? No?"

"Sì," I affirm as I offer my hand out. "Ma ho praticato mio Italiano..."

The President's mouth cracks into a genuine smile. "And you are doing very well, Singorina! Tell me, have you visited la città eterna before?"

"No, this is my first time," I admit, also switching to English, now that the formalities are over and done with. "But even the ride from the airport was utterly magical! It's like stepping into history!"

"Sì," the President affirms with a grin. "Us Romans are unspeakably lucky to be able to call such a beautiful city our home. It is a place of many treasures."

"What is your favourite part of the city?" I ask.

The President blinks in surprise at the unexpected intimacy of the request. "That is a difficult question... But if I am forced to choose... it would have to be this little forno next to la Fontana di Trevi which makes a very unique — and very delicious — pistachio croissant. It is not for every person, but if you have a spirit of adventure, then I suggest you try it."

"Thank you," I say with a sincere smile, filing the suggestion away. "I definitely will!"

"I cannot say that I have had the pleasure of sampling this treat, either," Christian admits, with a knowing glance down at me. "But Lady Harper has excellent taste in pastries — she was actually kind enough to introduce us to an American delicacy called a cronut. It was a big hit all around."

"A cronut?" queries the President. "I cannot say I am familiar..."

"Don't worry," Maxwell assures him with a conspiratorial grin. "We'll bring you one. If you'll trade us some bomboloni in exchange?"

Bertrand's already sunburnt face reddens further. "Maxwell! You cannot entreat the President t—"

"You like bomboloni, also?" interjects the President with keen interest.

"Of course!" Maxwell affirms enthusiastically. "Anyone who doesn't like them clearly has something wrong with them!"

"Sounds like you have excellent taste in pastries as well, Signore Maxwell!" chuckles the President.

The conversation continues to revolve around our shared food interests for a few more minutes, until an aide clears his throat from behind the President.

"Accettare le mie scuse," he apologises. "But I am being advised that it is time for the photographs and the speeches."

"Of course," nods Christian graciously, indicating that the President should lead the way to the front of the room where a small podium has been set up.

As the two men peel away from the group, I cast my eyes 'round the space and spot Hana standing by one of the large windows. Giving her a wave, I use the brief break in the proceedings to make my way over to her.

"So, what's the view like from this side of the room?" I ask by way of greeting.

"Quieter than your side," she admits wryly. "You certainly seemed to be having an engaging conversation with the President!"

"We discovered a shared love for sugary treats," I admit. "You should've joined us — you could've bragged about that baking championship that you won."

"It's alright," she demurs with a blush. "It's actually been nice to take a moment to step away from the crowd."

"Oh?" I ask, laying a concerned hand on her arm. "Is something wrong?"

She heaves a breath, as if debating whether to tell me. Finally, she says, "I have been fending off suitors."

My brow shoots skywards. "How many proposals have you had?"

"Since I arrived...? Probably twelve..."

My eyes bulge. "Twelve! That's like two a day!"

"Yes," she concedes with a weary exhale. "Lady Madeleine has been extremely gracious in personally introducing me to numerous eligible bachelors—"

"—but none of them are Maxwell," I surmise.

Her eyes flick up to mine before dropping back down sorrowfully. "No. But for the sake of my parents, I must entertain every available option in an honest manner."

"That definitely sounds exhausting..." I concede. "But hopefully now that we're out of the country, you can catch a bit of a break."

"I am not so sure..." she admits. "I have been advised that a number of well-connected Italians will be in attendance at the opera tonight..."

"Pfft...!" I scoff. "Just take the night off... Pretend to be sick... Run off with Maxwell to get some gelato... Actually enjoy being in Italy!"

Hana blushes. "I—"

The chime of a bell rings out across the room, interrupting our conversation.

Looking up, I see that all heads have turned dutifully towards the twin forms standing on the dais as they prepare to address the congregation.

"Vostra Altezza Reale, colleghi delegati, Signore e Signori," greets the President, "È un onore, per me, ospitare la delegazione reale di Cordonia, nostro vicino e stretto alleato per centinaia di anni. È passato troppo tempo da—"

As the speech winds on, I find myself tuning out, given that I am only able to understand every third or fourth word. But, not wanting to come across as rude by continuing my catch-up with Hana, I instead try to occupy myself by examining the two large tapestries suspended on the walls.

A round of applause draws me out of my reverie, and I join in on auto-pilot as the President hands off to Christian. Several more minutes of lilting Italian fills the room, during which time I move my attentions to the Roman-looking busts, wondering which emperors they depict.

Finally, the speeches come to a close, and I heave a sigh of relief.

"Did you understand any of that?" I ask Hana as the President presents Christian with some kind of medal, and the two men pose for photos.

"Of course," she nods. "My parents—"

"—have been giving you Italian lessons since before you could talk?" I finish dryly.

Hana's cheeks dimple. "Not quite that young, but yes. I am what they consider 'proficient'."

"Meaning, you speak it better than I speak English," I joke.

She snorts in response. "I wouldn't say that..."

"But it's true," I say with a smirk, happy to see that Hana's time back at court has not completely crushed her sense of humour.

"Ah, I've missed talking to you, Harper," she says with genuine feeling. "The last few days have felt so busy that I feel like we haven't spoken in months!"

"Yeah, tell me about it..." I agree with a huff. "In the space of a week, I've become a Cordonian citizen, been granted a duchy, gone from number five to number one on Madeleine's shit list, and—"

Hana's eyes widen. "It's not that bad, surely...!"

"It's probably worse," I admit. "And being on the front page of the Cordonian Sun — again — is probably not helping matters either..."

"Yes, I saw that article..." she commiserates with feeling. "I'm sorry that the press are treating you in that manner again."

"Hey, it's not your fault," I assure her. "But the press aren't all bad — I managed to convince Ana de Luca to help us track down the photographer who took those pictures of me and Tariq, and she actually came through yesterday."

"That's great!" she enthuses. "I have to admit that I have not had much success on my side... Madeleine does not permit her ladies-in-waiting to handle any of her private correspondence, including her mobile phones and laptop. And she has only talked to us about the upcoming events on the tour..."

"Well, it was a bit of a long-shot, anyway," I concede with a shrug. "But who knows? We might get—"

"Pardon," interrupts Kiara with a pointed cough. "But the Queen requests your presence."

I roll my eyes with a scoff. "She's not married to Christian yet..."

"But she will be soon," she reminds me pointedly. "So, it is actuellement in your interest to remain on her good side, given that you are now a duchess."

I feel the corner of my mouth scrunch into a mou of dissent, but I force myself not to pick apart the many things that are wrong with her statement. "Fine. Where is Her Majesty?"

"Bidding adieu to the President," she advises. "She has asked that in the meantime I gather the ladies who are to accompany her to the wedding boutique."

"Does she really need an entourage to go shopping?" I ask as we start making our way back to the double doors at the far end of the room.

"It is tradition for the suitors who were not picked at the end of the social season to assist the queen-to-be in the preparations for the wedding, including selecting her bridal gown and trousseau."

"Wonder how many times that's gone wrong before..." I mutter under my breath.

"It is a ritual de beaucoup d'importance," Kiara insists seriously. "The former suitors — and their families — demonstrate their public support for the union via the personal assistance they provide the bride and groom in the lead-up to the big day, as well as in the act of taking on key roles during the ceremony itself."

"Let me guess..." I grumble. "We're all going to be maids of honour, too..."

"In Cordonia, the correct term is 'witness'," she corrects. "They are the ones chosen by the couple to countersign the marriage certificate. Mais oui — it is likely that one or two of us will be called upon in such a manner."

"Great..." I sigh, arriving at the entranceway where Penelope and Olivia are already waiting. "All the things we get to look forward to..."

"Oh, Lady Harper!" squeals Penelope in excitement. "I love your dress! How do you always manage to find such super chic pieces?"

"Uhh..." I say, genuinely taken aback by her enthusiasm. "Bertrand picked this, actually..."

Olivia snorts derisively. "You mean Lord Tweedle-Dee? Please... That man has worse fashion sense than Jared Leto."

"Actually, he—"

"If you lot are quite finished with your asinine chit-chit," snaps Madeline as she strides imperiously past us, "you can pick up your feet. We are already running late for my appointment... Which took months to schedule, so don't you dare make me miss it!"

I meet Hana's gaze with a fish-eyed look. "Ever heard the term 'bridezilla' before?"

"No," she admits with a frown. "But it sounds scary..."

"Oh, trust me!" I assure her as we bring up the rear. "It is! Especially since it sounds like Madeleine is planning to take the concept to a whole 'nother level..."

The story continues in Chapter 19: Field Day

A/N: Translations for the Italian below:

At the airport: Andiamo - Let's go

Certamente, Duchessa - Certainly, Duchess

En route Lemura aureliane. Costruitadall'imperatore Aureliano per difendere Roma dai barbari. - The Aurelian Wall. It was constructed by the Emperor Aurelian to defend Rome against barbarians.

Il Circo Massimo - The Circus Maximus

Sì. L'antico stadio romano costruito per le corsedei carri. - Yes. The ancient Roman stadium constructed for chariot racing.

Il Vittoriano - This is a colloquial nickname for the Monument to Victor Emmanuel II

At the Presidential Palace Singor Presidente. Permettetemi di presentarvi altri membri della nostra delegazione. - Mr President. Allow me to introduce some additional members of our delegation.

Certamente - Certainly

Questo è Singor Bertrand Beaumont, duca di Ramsford, e suo fratello, Maxwell. - This is Lord Bertrand Beaumont, Duke of Ramsford, and his brother, Maxwell.

Beaumont... Sai, mi suona familiare. Sei parente di Signor Bartholemy, per caso? - Beaumont... You know, that sounds familiar. Are you related to Lord Bartholemy, by chance?

Sì. Egli è nostro padre. - Yes. He is our father.

Sì...sì... Ha accompagnato il re precedente in molte occasioni. Sei molto simile a lui. - Yes... Yes... He accompanied the former king on many occasions. You look a lot like him.

Sì, la somiglianza di famiglia è forte. - Yes, there is a notable family resemblance.

E questaè Singorina Olivia Nevrakis, duchessa di Lythikos,un mio carissimo amico, e fedele sostenitrice del famiglia Rys. - And this is Lady Olivia Nevrakis, Duchess of Lythikos, a dear friend of mine, and loyal supporter of the Rys family.

E' un piacere conoscerla, Signore Presidente. - My sincere pleasure, Mr President.

Il piacere è tutto mio. - The pleasure is all mine.

E finalmente, questa è Singorina Harper, la nuova duchessa di Valtoria. - And finally, this is Lady Harper, the new Duchess of Valtoria.

Sì. Ma hopraticato mio Italiano.* - Yes. But I am practising my Italian. *Italian speakers will note that there is a grammatical mistake here (the correct phrasing is 'Ho praticato il mio italiano'). However, the mistake is deliberate because Harper learnt Italian literally an hour ago, so she's not going to be perfect at it!

La città eterna - the Eternal City (nickname for Rome)

Accettare le mie scuse - [Please] Accept my apologies.

Vostra Altezza Reale, colleghi delegati, Signore e Signori. È un onore, per me, ospitare la delegazionereale di Cordonia, nostro vicino e stretto alleato per centinaia di anni. Èpassato troppo tempo da— Your Royal Highness, fellow delegates, ladies and gentlemen. It is my honour to host the royal delegation of Cordonia, our neighbour and ally for many centuries. It has been far too long since—

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[saltywinteradult]

Rhaenicent predictions for S2? My guess is they’ll have Alicent abandon her family and join Team Black. It’s the only way I can see the ship becoming canon.

Apologies in advance, I meant to keep this brief, but... well, they are my otp.

My view on Rhaenicent is basically this:

Okay. Jokes aside, I’m not predicting that Rhaenicent will ever become canon. They simply have too much bad blood and too many war crimes in the baggage to ever reunite, and we all know there is much more and much worse to come.

Yes, they’re clearly in love and never got over each other, but while I'm fairly sure Rhaenyra, raging bisexual that she is (me too girl lmao) recognises their past situationship for what it was, I'm not sure Alicent ever acknowledged it even to herself. She may be the lesbianest lesbian that Westeros ever saw, but she's also spent years repressing that part of herself and devoting herself to the role of a wife and a mother as well as to her religious convictions. (And yes, it is very telling that in spite of all that, Alicent was ready to jump into bed reconcile with Rhaenyra in episode 8 anyway.)

Most importantly though, there is no way in hell Alicent is going to abandon her children — the children she’s suffered and sacrificed so much for — for Rhaenyra’s sake. That is not happening. Likewise, I have a hard time seeing Rhaenyra forgiving Alicent for, as she sees it, participating in the usurpation of her throne. I would love for them to have hate sex, but at this point I don’t see any possibility for an actual full reconciliation that wouldn’t be a betrayal of either character.

What I AM predicting is boatloads of gay pining and homoerotic fighting, much like in season 1. I’m expecting that, in spite of all that's happened and all the ways they've hurt each other, both Rhaenyra and Alicent will have a lot of conflicting feelings about going to war against each other. One or both of them might even advocate for the other to be spared should their side win. If and when they meet face to face again I expect the romantic tension to be off the damn charts, but I don’t think either of them will acknowledge it, because how could they? They’re enemies now, after all. They both have their own families to protect and their own diametrically opposed ambitions to fight for now. I expect them to homoerotically commit all of the war crimes and hurt each other over and over, because they're at war and they have to, and hate every second of it. They hate each other and miss each other all at once. They want each other and can never have each other. They were forced apart and suffer for it. That's the tragedy I am expecting and hoping to see.

TLDR: I don't think they will ever reconcile, and I'm completely fine with that. The possibility of them becoming canon has never been part of the appeal of Rhaenicent to me. I am simply of the opinion that everything, especially war crimes, is much more fun with homoerotic subtext. I'm just here for the gay tragedy of it all.

[sroloc--elbisivni]

Bunnyguard master post

July 1, 2023: in the spirit of shameless self-promotion here's a collective post for the Usagi Yojimbo/Rottmnt fusion Leosagi fic series I've been working on this year. somewhat celebratory because 1. I'm very excited to have hit the halfway mark on this project 2. my birthday is later this month and I can do a little treat for myself if I want 3. it's my first day off in ages and I can spend my time luxuriantly and frivolously. Prompts taken from Year of the OTP; titles from Richard Siken "Litany in which certain things are crossed out."

Post last updated December 22, 2023

Bunnyguard verse premise in three bullet points:

The cast of Usagi Yojimbo are embedded in the Hidden City

Draxum helped raised the turtles

Usagi gets hired as a bodyguard for Leo a month after the Krang invasion

January - "missionfic" - something other than the desperation Usagi does his best to not embarrass himself while Leo tries to do the same and fails. (the hero shifts from one foot to the other)

February - "mermaid au" - no one will ever want to sleep with you A first meeting sparks a series of increasingly dumb and desperate decisions. (the repeated image of the lover destroyed)

March - "mutual pining" - your heart, and it is painted shut We skip ahead in the timeline to the point where Usagi has decided he's going to just quietly pine forever and Leo stops for five seconds of self-examination and immediately starts planning his wedding. (the same big and little words, all spelling out desire)

April - "No, I'm not dating your brother" - There is something underneath the floorboards After a series of shenanigans, (some of) Usagi's misconceptions are corrected and Leo eventually gets a full night's sleep. (bruised and ruined, you poor sad thing)

May - "accidental pet/child acquisition" - Quit milling around the yard and come inside Usagi uses his day off to be with his family, including his son, and Leo takes a turn being the babysitter instead of the babysat. (Inside your head you hear a phone ringing.)

June - "you're not what I expected" - These terms from the lower depths After being chased by a demon, Leo and Usagi end up in the bones of both of their pasts, one after the other. (I have told you where I'm coming from, so put it together.)

July - "enemies to lovers" - recently we have had our difficulties Leo screws up, Usagi gets hurt, and they have to work together to fix it. (the moment of epiphany, in gold light)

August - "au of your choice" (free space) - close enough to see the blue rings Usagi fights a dragon and Leo has a bunch of minor problems happen all at once. (But it doesn't work, these erasures, this constant refolding of the pleats)

September - "hurt/comfort" - Are you there, sweetheart? Do you know me? An unexpected attack forces everyone involved to reexamine their circumstances. (Love always wakes the dragon and suddenly flames everywhere)

October - "identity shenanigans" - I guess I can tell you that now. Our heroes go on a date to a mob warehouse and find out things that were not exactly secrets but definitely unknown. (I walk through your dreams and invent the future)

November - "be careful what you wish for" - You want a better story. Who wouldn't? A confrontation, a choice, a number of things undone. (It should mean laughter, not poison.)

December - "forgiveness" - so maybe I wanted to give you something Our heroes reckon with their actions, and choose to try again. (I want more seats reserved for heroes. Dear Forgiveness, I saved a plate for you.)

[showmey0urfangs]

A reframing of 𝕃𝕠𝕦𝕞𝕒𝕟𝕕

I know, I know — Loustat is endgame, Lestat is Louis's OTP etc. BUT hear me out; I hate that Loumand shippers often get laughed at and ridiculed for even considering it when imo it is a great ship and Louis wasn't lying when he said Armand is the love of his life. Here's why;

If we take the book canon out of the equation for a second and solely look at the timeline of the show, Loustat started dating in the fall of 1910, got married in May 1911 and Lestat died in February of 1940. Their entire relationship lasted about 30 years on and off.

If we contrast this with 𝕃𝕠𝕦𝕞𝕒𝕟𝕕, we can assume Louis meets Armand in 1945, and they are still together in present-day 2022. That's 77 years and counting.

Now, I know the duration of a relationship should not be the only consideration here, but also the quality of said relationship. So again if we contrast the two — Loustat was 30 years of misery, cheating, and emotional and physical abuse that was intercut with brief periods of happiness and ended with Louis slitting Lestat's throat to save himself and his daughter from the tyranny that they were living under.

Loumand on the other hand seems to be a more peaceful, albeit boring, relationship. Armand takes care of Louis and is very protective of him.

Yes, there is a possessive edge to it, but from what we have seen so far, it is nowhere near as unhinged as it was with Lestat. It also seems to be consensual, like Louis willingly cedes over control to Armand and defers to him to make decisions.

They have better communication, are more respectful to each other, and even consult each other before sleeping with other people as evidenced by the 70s flashback with Daniel Molloy. That's a complete departure from Lestat's decades-long cheating and lying.

Loumand may arguably lack the heated passion that Loustat had, but Armand seems to be a genuinely loving and devoted partner (again, I am solely going off of what we see on the show and not taking into account later book canon).

It's also important to note that in 2022, Louis is probably operating under the belief that Lestat is either dead or gone forever depending on whose narrative you believe, TVL or IWTV. They are not just on a 6-year break like they were after the fight — as far as Louis knows, they are done, over, finito!

From present-day Louis's perspective, Lestat is the toxic ex he had more than 70 years ago, and who he still has mixed feelings about. Armand is his current partner, he is the person who loved him enough to stay through thick and thin, and who “cares for Louis more than he cares for himself ”

So yes, Armand is the love of his life! until Lestat shows up again.

[ruthless-rainbow]

A Call from the Ocean (Introduction)

Ohmygoodness, you guys, I finally finished my concept art for my big Thiam project and this is the introduction to my latest AU. (This is just the beginning, so I hope you are ready for a bit of a ride. 😅) I am so happy for you all to finally meet my little mer!Theo. 🥺 & Welcome to; A Call from the Ocean Summary; Liam Dunbar likes to think he's just your average, everyday, twenty-two year old guy. A College student majoring in history. Captain and star of the swim team. And seemingly just a happy go lucky person. But if only life were that simple. And for Liam, living with his disorder is anything but. Not everyone will and can understand what it's like living with IED. Forced to explain his outbursts of what others see as irrational anger and feeling like a freak. Liam finds solace and peace in one place. The ocean. He's felt the pull of the sea for as long as he can remember and it's like a second home to him. But could there be something else that calls Liam to the waters edge? Something more that lurks beneath the waves? And somewhere deep under the surface of that very ocean is where Theo calls home. An outcast of his kind, a survivor despite the odds being against him and leader of his small pod of three. Theo wonders if there could ever be more to his cold, painful existence. He wonders if he'll ever know a real life, a life lived and not just survived. He wonders if he'll ever experience a touch that's more than claws piercing his flesh and littering his skin with scars. Theo would give anything to know that there is something out there better than this. ..... A few things about this AU, I love mermaids/merpeople and have always been fascinated by them. So, I really couldn't resist making an AU for my all time favorite OTP. And when I imagined Theo as a mer, I fell in love with him and I just couldn't get him out of my head. I jumped all in and let it consume me for months. 😅 Waiting until MERMAY to finally post him. 💜 I had a lot of fun with his design and I didn't want 'frilly Disney mermaid' vibes. I wanted Theo to be beautiful, of course. But I also wanted him to be just a little bit terrifying. 😅 like, yes, he could rip your throat out and drown you before you can even scream, but he would look so pretty while he does it that you may just thank him for the experience. 😅🤣 Also, yes, I did one of his concept arts twice because I wanted to show the fact that parts of Theo are bioluminecent. I mean, c'mon, Bioluminecense is one of the most beautiful and magical things about the ocean, so it only felt right to make him that way. So I did a 'night' version but I still wanted you to be able to see the colors of his fans in both kinds of lighting. Last but never least, I have a few people that I really need to give a shoutout to for this AU. I was truly nervous about it, so I decided to reach out to a few of the wonderful friends I have made on here to get their thoughts and opinions. I honestly couldn't have made this peice if it wasn't for you all because your feedback and support has been vital for this. And we are talking months of y'all having to deal with my nonesense. 😅😅😅 @sterekshipper-writer​, @thiamsxbitch​, @sydney-winchester​, @wolfboy88​, @sapphire-rising-sun​, @stitchkiss​ All of you are so f*cking amazing and I heart you all so much. 💜 I really, really hope you all will like my little mer!Theo and I really hope I will be seeing you again when I post the first chapter to the story in the next few weeks. 💜 Ya’ll . 😘 ✌️💜🌈

[spaceratprodigy]

For the ship asks: 3 and 36, your choice!

@kyberinfinitygems — [ OTP Prompts ]

More Cybill/Iris for the soul! >:]

@grimreapersbutt answered these with me 🖤✨ thank u again bestie mwah

–

3. Are they into PDA? Who initiates most?

At first it's Iris! She is a very physical person, very lovey and very expressive about it. By the time they have their first kiss and it hits very hard that they are in love with each other, once she can have him it's all over. That man is going to be spoiled rotten with her love every chance she gets.

Cybill matches her energy very well, he is just as mushy gushy as she is, but it takes him a while to realize he's allowed to be that way.

From being in his vault, he has some preconceptions of what is socially acceptable, and being with Iris pulls him out of that. He becomes just as expressive as she is and much less worried about what other people think.

I cannot stress enough that once they are together, the jaws of life cannot pry them apart. Literally a package deal, do not separate. They may or may not become a bit shameless over just how affectionate they're willing to be anywhere and everywhere. Hoo boy. But they very much enjoy so much soft intimacy as well. Catch them standing around holding hands, being all close, Cybill resting his head on Iris's shoulder, whispering sweet nothings to each other, finding so so much comfort in each other.

Being together genuinely helps both of them so much. Obvs there is so much to get into there regarding their stories before they meet and once their paths becomes one. But plenty of friends have read what we have of their PDF so far and can attest to just how deeply their love for each other runs and the lengths they are always willing to go to to take care of each other.

–

36. Who is more protective?

That's the million dollar question isn't it? They are both really fucking protective of each other, not to mention how protective they are of June and Henry.

Realistically, Iris is the stronger one of the two of them and is more capable of doing the defending. But, to revisit what was mentioned above, Cybill's time in the vault has left him with a certain mindset regarding traditional gender roles within a marriage. He'll feel like it's his job to be The Man Of The House, and is likely to throw himself into danger to protect his family.

As protective as he is, it still doesn't change the fact that my sweet baby boy isn't the strongest lad and is a popsicle stick of a man ✌️😔 and, such is often the way, he needs Iris to help protect him. Which she does, and always will. She loves him, she would do anything to keep him safe. If he gets hurt, she will always be there to take care of him, patch him up, kiss him better.

That isn't to say he should ever be underestimated. In both of their cases, they can be pushed hard enough to the point you'll find out just how fucking vicious they can be. Yes, for each other, absolutely. If their sweetie is in immediate danger, there will be no hesitation to keep them safe at whatever the cost. But when it comes to the babies, if June and Henry are threatened in any way, you aren't living to see the light of day. Would you rather be torn apart by the lifetime's worth of pent up blind rage mama bear or her feral little rat husband who will probably tear you to shreds with his bare teeth and eat you 🔍🤨 either way, they're probably going to have both Overreacted™️ and walk away drenched in blood.

[banterismylovelanguage]

Analyzing my ship taste recently

In the most surface-level way possible

XIAOVEN

The og, the lovers across centuries, my OTP in Genshin.

Very wholesome and angst-ridden ship, I classify it lightly as having the characteristics of “childhood friends to lovers” due to the interpersonal knowledge they (would) have of each other in this ship.

Childhood friends to lovers has always been that devoted ship, “I choose you despite all we meet and will meet, and in every hardship I will stand by you”, and the loyalty that one has for the other is the defining characteristic of this ship for me.

This is how I see Xiaoven. So, despite the fact they’re not actually childhood friends, it has that same timeframe of a long time knowing each other and utter devotion to each other.

Now let’s look at another example of one of my “old” fave ships in Genshin.

JEANLISA (…anybody think I was going for Shenjin? It works for this, but Imma put it at the end because this ship better proves my comparisons)

Jeanlisa is prob best fit for friends to lovers but it has all the same characteristics of childhood friends to lovers. (Coworkers to lovers works as well, but I think that dynamic is more flexible in what type of coworker they are—enemies? Begrudging allies? Married couple? Or friends…)

Friends to lovers feels more like the oblivious “childhood friends to lovers” version of the dynamic. Both of them act like they’re committed to the other, but it takes one moment of “Oh shit, I actually really like you” for everything to hit it off. One starts to realize they know more about that person than other friends that they start to naturally seek touch or crave touch when it isn’t given; maybe there’s a moment or two of seeing a couple and wondering what the difference is between that couple’s relationship and their friendship is—to only realize there is no difference other than the label or the intimacy (that they would be utterly okay with!).

Again, there’s a dedication there, but it doesn’t have quite the long timeframe—yet. It’s wanting to have those long years with the other person.

Jeanlisa has that vibe, but it contains a touch of angst with one life being cut short, and perhaps that’s the kicker of a moment that brings them together into the next step of their relationship.

All right, onto the new ships…

WRIONEY

I’m so stereotypical for this, but I love a good enemies to lovers ship. I was so wrong for only seeing the women (Furina, Arelcchino) for Lyney’s potential ships, only to have my mind blown with Wriothesley’s introduction. This a good ship.

Complete opposite of Xiaoven, there’s no devotion or loyalty here—there’s not even an ounce of trust! Destruction, betrayal, blackmail—everything to break down any spark of a relationship here. And yet, why is the ship so appealing?

Well, any enemies to lovers ship is about seeing the worst sides of two people, being confronted with the honesty in the hatred, and finding a weird sort of trust in that consistency—this person may hide their motives from me and their real life, but at least I know my standing with them. There’s no front of trying to make one appear to be the best version of themselves in order to impress; there is teeth gnashing and blood drawn and lots of high-tension moments of bringing someone to the edge and waiting for them to snap.

EXACTLY what we get with WRIONEY. So where does the romance come in?

It comes from the honesty. Hatred is only a coin flip from love as they say (LOL don’t take that too seriously), and I believe that, in seeing the worst of each other, there’s a stronger connection that can be built through the pain.

It takes the timeframe needed from childhood friends to lovers and cuts it into pieces with one pivotal moment that spotlights the other character’s true self—that shows everything that the other needed to know—and then it’s slowly rebuilding everything you initially misunderstood about that person into something that aligns with the true self you saw earlier.

And it’s devastatingly romantic.

Let’s take another example:

ARLEFURI

Gonna be honest, saw someone characterize this as toxic yuri and I’ve been in such a mood since I’ve been waiting for Heartbreak Studios to release The Lovers.

This is obviously enemies to lovers, but with a fascinating dynamic.

LOTS of power dynamics, high tension, and danger in this ship, and I’m really looking forward to more scenes to get a better pin on Arlecchino’s character and WHAT IS HAPPENING WHAT with everything going on with them.

The hints I’ve been given to what their dynamic could be like certainly starts as enemies, but usually enemies (in the ship dynamic) are more seen on equal footing to their hatred of each other and thus the poisonous remarks exchanged between the two should be equal (or, at least, what I’m used to seeing).

Arlefuri isn’t quite on that level—yet, or maybe you see that happening behind closed doors, without an audience in your headcanons. It’s certainly an “enemy that hates the other, and the other that hates them too but is also desperately scared of them.” You get the captor/captive dynamic that is fun in of itself to explore.

Usually, the breaking moment in these dynamics is the captor performing some action of excellent standing, either fully for the captive’s benefit or for what the captive loves.

For what changes the captor, in Arlefuri’s case, I see a moment of the captive defying the expectations of the captor.

Honestly, thinking Furina is a selfish, worthless archon is quite in line for typical captor/captive dynamics.. from what I’ve heard or whatever (LOL).

IN CONCLUSION,

I’ve taken a turn for high-strung ship dynamics with Fontaine 😏

Okay, but seriously, these complicated ships are absolutely my jam and it’s quite fun to see so much potential for exploration of individual characters in ship dynamics, and Wrioney and Arlefuri are scratching those itches nicely.

(Anybody have any interesting ships or friendships with Navia? 👀)

Anybody interested in Shenhe ships additional note:

SHENJIN falls closer to strangers to lovers with a longer timeframe of gaining that friends to lovers title, but it still holds under a more wholesome ship.

For strangers to lovers, there’s an added spice of getting to know someone you have no opinion of recently (really, any ship ever) but as adults and with Yun Jin’s interest in Shenhe’s true backstory, you have the classic slow burn with the angst being the fear of letting someone in and know the true you. Who do you trust with the most delicate parts of your heart?

In Yun Jin’s case, who do you let see the most tired parts of yourself, under the makeup and after the performance?

SHENLAN is closer to my current fave ship dynamics, another version of strangers to lovers but in very fun “let’s add some death-defying moments!”

It almost feels like it should be an enemies to lovers ship, but Shenhe doesn’t really have that vibe of creating an intentional enemy, and Yelan could make herself an enemy and absolutely push people away, but it more feels like a childhood friend you try to shake off but never do despite their dedication to you, without the years of dedication.

It gives more the coworkers/buddy cop dynamic: I have your back and you have mine, but I don’t want you to risk your life for me and I will pretend I won’t risk my life for you.”

Fun, right?

Then there’s of course the pivotal moment of “Oh no you risked your life for me and now I see we’re in it for real and can I take you on a date next Saturday and truly get to know the real you—which I tried not to do all this time since?”

Anyway, hope you enjoyed these fun little thoughts.

[sibyl-of-space]

I have some extremely juicy news about Twitter I’d like to share here for those unaware, because it actually has kind of huge implications for account security/data privacy in general.

TL;DR: Twitter asked users for phone numbers/e-mail under the false pretense of requiring them to secure accounts (MFA) and then used that personally-identifying data to profit from advertisers. The Federal Trade Commission ordered them to pay a $150M penalty and MORE IMPORTANTLY they are forced to allow other means (security key, MFA app) and *NOT* phone numbers to meet that security need. TWITTER IS DOING ITS BEST NOT TO ADVERTISE JUST HOW MUCH THEY LOST AND WHAT A GREAT PRECEDENT THIS IS FOR THE REST OF US.

Details follow.

This morning I logged on to Twitter and saw a huge banner about how Twitter cares about your privacy that led to an article that more or less read “oopsies, we may have accidentally asked people for their phone numbers for privacy, and wow! our fingies slipped and we made a teensie widdle boo-boo and profited off of that data.” This article pissed me the fuck off, but it vaguely mentioned a settlement with the Federal Trade Commission. I looked that up because I wanted to see what kind of slap on the wrist they got for this BS.

AND. GREAT NEWS, EVERYONE. THESE MOTHERFUCKERS HAVE FACED SOMETHING THAT MIGHT ACTUALLY BE A CONSEQUENCE.

Article here: https://www.ftc.gov/news-events/news/press-releases/2022/05/ftc-charges-twitter-deceptively-using-account-security-data-sell-targeted-ads

Now there’s a lot in there but, quoting directly, in addition to paying $150M, the settlement must:

prohibit Twitter from profiting from deceptively collected data;

allow users to use other multi-factor authentication methods such as mobile authentication apps or security keys that do not require users to provide their telephone numbers;

notify users that it misused phone numbers and email addresses collected for account security to also target ads to them and provide information about Twitter’s privacy and security controls;

implement and maintain a comprehensive privacy and information security program that requires the company, among other things, to examine and address the potential privacy and security risks of new products;

limit employee access to users’ personal data; and

notify the FTC if the company experiences a data breach.

ITEMS 2 AND 3 (bolded) ARE OF KEY INTEREST HERE.

Bullet point 2 means the app CANNOT force you to disclose your phone number under the pretense of “security.” If you, as I was a couple years ago, are forced to provide additional information to protect your account (some accounts I care deeply about protecting with MFA. Twitter isn’t one of them. Furthermore, providing this phone number DID NOT EVEN FORCE 2FA, so I already had a hunch it was fishy) you now have the option to remove your phone number completely and supply a security key or MFA app instead.

The company has proven it cannot be trusted with your personal information. This isn’t surprising but it’s now concrete. So do not give it to them.

(If you have an iOS device I recommend OTP Authenticator, has a very good track record for not tracking you like some others might - looking at Microsoft Authenticator - doing just what it needs to and doing it securely.)

Bullet point 3 is the reason I got that half-assed banner on Twitter. They were forced to notify users of the misuse and of the new non-personally-identifying security methods, so they made a banner vaguely mentioning the FTC and vaguely mentioning their security settings. They are NOT advertising the fact that you don’t have to provide your phone # anymore, which I can’t help but feel is because they are sorry they got caught, and have every intent to be shitty with your information again given the chance.

Below is a screenshot of part of Twitter’s required communication on the topic. Transcription follows.

Transcription:

“We may have asked for your phone number or email address to secure or authenticate your account (for example, for two-factor authentication). As we told you in October 2019, we may have used these phone numbers or email addresses to deliver tailored advertising to you on Twitter until September 2019. On June 6, 2022, we entered into a settlement with the Federal Trade Commission to resolve this issue.

As of September 17, 2019, we are no longer using phone numbers or email addresses collected for safety or security purposes for advertising. We never disclosed or shared your phone number or email addresses with advertisers. There is no action that you need to take regarding this issue.

You have a number of options to control your privacy and security when you use Twitter:

* Control your privacy settings. You can find out more about your privacy settings on Twitter, including how to enable or disable personalized ads, by visiting https://myprivacy.twitter.com.”

End of transcription. The rest of the article wasn’t screenshotted, this was the important part.

This was the extent of Twitter’s communication. Compare it to the actual agreement reached by the FTC. There’s a reason I read Twitter’s version of events and got pissed off... their propaganda worked, until I read more into it. They really tried to brush over the fact that they faced real and tangible consequences and now you can straight up take your phone number off of your Twitter account, use other means to secure it, and tell them to go fuck themselves.

MORE LIKE THIS PLEASE!!!

[urostakako]

Kasumi Miwa for the ask game!

favorite thing about them: shes such a cutie and shes so caring for her classmates that is unfit for a jujutsu sorcerer but i feel like you realize with her that she really is just a kid whos trying her best in the midst of all these other crazy jujutsu sorcerers. shes the most normal one trying to survive and it hurts when she breaks from being strong for so long

least favorite thing about them: the binding vow she made in shibuya.... why.........

favorite line:

"I guess if we got too close... it would be too much to bear when we lose someone. But you know what? I really like being with everyone here. I mean, even though you couldn'tparticipate in the baseball game... (You were a pitching machine for goodness' sake.) I'd like it if we could get to know each other better. So... I promise I'll come and see you someday, okay?" (82)

"I'm putting... everything--my present and future--into this! Even if it means... I never swing a katana again!!" (134)

(i know i said that i hate her binding vow but this is one of my favorite lines.... pay no attention to it)

brOTP: her and mai and momo :)) theyre clearly all very close with each other and i adore the way they play pranks on each other but ultimately they care for each other so so much and find family in each other... <3

OTP: mechamiwa, it really makes me so sad

nOTP: all the proship ones. idk if theres really any other ship for her that ive seen or dont like

random headcanon: im not sure... i havent really thought about it all that much? ig she strikes me as a kpop stan. and when she came to kyoto jujutsu tech she was eager to be friends but also shy and withdrawn, and did lots of things for her classmates or superiors that she didnt need to do because shes used to it being poor and the eldest sibling having to provide for her family. but with meeting momo and mai they helped her control her bad habit to at least do it less. and they helped her come out of her shell

unpopular opinion: i really dont know any unpopular opinions for her 😭 ive never heard of miwa hate or anything like that, so...

song i associate with them: Still With You by Jung Kook

favorite picture of them: