#They have children. Grandchildren. They have struggles.

[shisabun]

Before I start, I just want to say thank you to the husbands, brothers, and fathers who voted to support their daughters, sisters, and wives. What I'm about to say doesn't include you.

To the women who voted for Trump, you are a disgrace. Thanks to you, your children and grandchildren will be forced to fight the war that was won by your grandmothers.

You sit content and joyful while others mourn. You laugh in the face of their fears when there's a knife floating above your head poised to fall. You have no idea what's coming, but any woman with half a braincell does.

Let me tell you a story. My great aunt was basically my grandmother. She was born in the 1930s in Spain. Right after their revolution. Right after Spain became a dictatorship. She told me so many stories in her final years that I'll keep with me for the rest of my life. But I'll give one example.

One of her closest friends married young. Her husband claimed she was unfaithful and literally beat her to death. He was never arrested. He was never convinced. He walked away free and remarried in less than a month. Catholicism wouldn't allow divorce back then. He wanted to get remarried and simply got away with it because he was a cop. Franco gave cops full impunity. So does Project 2025.

I know some people reading this are rolling their eyes, and you know what?

Fuck. You. You are trash.

That girl was murdered at 20, and her killer walked free after openingly admitting it. My Tia never told me her name, but she carried her in her heart until the day she died at 98. And so do I.

To my fellow women who are mourning and scared right now, I'll give you the same advice my mother gave me. "Have your cry. Then get up and get things done. You're strong enough not to have this break you."

You are Mary and Esther. You are Caterina Sforza. You are Princess Diana. You are Anna May Wong. You are the living legacy of every woman who has come before you. You carry their strength, their courage, and their determination.

This shit is going to suck. Pure and simple. But we'll do what we've always done. We'll bite and claw our way to a better future. We'll tear down every obstacle so our children and grandchildren will have an easier path to walk.

We are dragons in human form. Steel your heart and give them nothing. Do not give them your affection, your care, or your bodies. Fuck being demure and mindful. When they spew hate, you spit fire. When they ask for your smile, you give them your fangs. Become a walking inferno that they have no choice but to take note of. Do not yield.

You are powerful, and you are not alone. You are a sister in a coven that is millions strong. You are the daughters of the witches they couldn't burn.

To my fellow Millennials. I know you're tired. Our young adult lives were stolen from us, and we've been struggling uphill ever since. But do what the previous generation never did for us. Fight. Fight for the ones that are entering adulthood. Fight for the children who have no idea what they're about to grow into.

They called us snowflakes for pointing out their flaws. Fine. Let's give them a fucking blizzard. If they try to build momentum, we stop them. We are at the age where we need to be both shield and anchor. Let. Nothing. Pass.

We're about to face an orange shitstorm of epic proportions. But we'll do as we've always done. We fight, we endure, and we win. In the words of Samwise Gamgee, "There's good in this world, and it's worth fighting for."

[novaursa]

The Tides of Driftmark

- Summary: You and Baela cause some trouble in Hull.

- Paring: brother!reader/Baela Targaryen

- Rating: Mild 13+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround @literaturedog

The salt and sea air sting as you grip the reins of Grey Ghost, the elusive silver dragon known for vanishing as soon as he appears. Today, though, he’s under your command, albeit a bit reluctantly. Beside you, Baela rides her slender, quick-tempered Moondancer. She gives you a competitive grin as she leans forward, urging Moondancer to keep pace.

“Think you can outfly me, brother?” she taunts, her voice carrying over the rush of wind.

“Outfly you?” you reply, a smirk tugging at your lips. “I’ll have you eating my dragon’s dust before we even pass Driftmark!”

She laughs, a bright, careless sound, and nudges Moondancer forward. The two of you soar above Driftmark, the sunlight gleaming on the waves below and the distant sprawl of Hull in the distance. You’re both caught up in the thrill of flying, feeling the pulse of your dragons beneath you, their wings cutting through the sky.

“Hold on tight, Baela!” you shout, angling Grey Ghost downwards in a sudden dive, determined to impress her with your daring. Baela lets out a yelp of surprise, then matches your descent, Moondancer whipping her tail to keep balance.

But as you both descend toward Hull, a strong gust of wind pushes you off course. Grey Ghost growls in disapproval, his wings struggling to correct as you’re blown dangerously close to the ground. In the flurry of flapping wings and whirling air, Grey Ghost’s landing is anything but graceful, and you tumble off with an undignified grunt. Baela and Moondancer follow, landing in a disheveled heap beside you.

The people of Hull scatter, wide-eyed, as they catch sight of the two dragons in the midst of their humble port. Fisherfolk, merchants, and children alike stare at you and Baela with a mixture of awe and terror. You stand, brushing off your tunic and feeling a surge of embarrassment.

“Think you could’ve landed any harder?” Baela teases, her laugh soft but gleaming with mischief.

“You first,” you retort, rubbing your sore shoulder. “Moondancer looked like she was aiming for the fish stalls on purpose.”

As you look around, the crowd murmurs, a few nervous faces quickly transforming into scowls. Hull, after all, wasn’t expecting dragons in the middle of their daily business. You can hear the whispers growing louder, and just as you’re starting to worry about how to explain yourselves, a familiar voice cuts through the tension.

“Are my grandchildren causing a bit of trouble?” Corlys Velaryon strides forward, a half-amused, half-exasperated look on his face.

“Trouble?” Baela says innocently, though her cheeky grin betrays her. “We were simply...landing.”

“Mm-hm,” Corlys replies, eyeing the scattered fish, the crushed barrels, and the shaken townsfolk with a knowing sigh. “It seems your version of ‘landing’ is quite…spectacular.”

You glance at Baela, who raises her eyebrows as if daring you to explain. You can’t help but laugh, shrugging sheepishly as Corlys approaches.

“Lord Corlys,” you begin, “we thought Hull could use a bit of excitement. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Excitement, is it?” he chuckles, but his expression softens. “Perhaps next time, give Hull a bit of warning. Fisherfolk don’t take kindly to dragons landing in their wares unannounced.”

Beside you, Baela is trying hard not to laugh. You can see the gleam in her eye as she nudges you, whispering, “Next time, let’s aim for the market.”

Corlys overhears, giving her a disapproving look that’s more fond than anything else. “If you two wish to keep your reputation intact, I suggest staying clear of Hull for a while. These people may start demanding payment for all those crushed barrels of fish.”

“Or just avoid landing altogether,” you say to Baela with a grin. “Perhaps Moondancer could use some work on her grace.”

She punches your arm lightly, laughing. “And Grey Ghost is the very picture of elegance, isn’t he?”

Corlys shakes his head, gesturing to the townsfolk. “All right, you two troublemakers. Back to Driftmark, and try not to get thrown off your dragons on the way.”

As you mount Grey Ghost once more, you turn to Baela, unable to resist one last comment. “I’ll race you back, but try not to take out the rooftops this time.”

She rolls her eyes but smirks, already urging Moondancer into the air. “Just keep up, brother.”

With Corlys watching, arms crossed and an amused smile playing on his lips, you take to the sky once more. Behind you, Hull returns to its usual routine, now with the tale of two mischievous dragon riders and their rather memorable landing.

The dining hall of Driftmark feels both familiar and grand as you and Baela make your way to the table, both slightly windblown from your eventful ride back. The Velaryon banners hang proudly above, the hall filled with the smell of roasted meats and freshly baked bread. You can feel your stomach rumble, though you’re still grinning from the day’s adventure.

“Think they’ll serve fish?” you ask, glancing at Baela with a smirk as you pull out a chair beside her.

She rolls her eyes, though a smile tugs at her lips. “I’d rather they didn’t after today. I’m quite sure the people of Hull don’t want to see a fish in our presence for at least a year.”

You laugh, settling into your seat as plates of food are brought out. Your eyes light up at the sight of roasted duck, fresh fruit, and steaming vegetables, though you can’t help but notice that, indeed, there’s a large platter of seafood at the center of the table.

Baela nudges you. “It’s like they’re taunting us,” she says under her breath.

“Well,” you reply, spearing a piece of duck, “we should probably take it as an apology meal, given how many fish stalls we nearly destroyed.”

She bites back a laugh, her eyes twinkling as she reaches for her goblet. “An apology meal? They should be thanking us for making things interesting.” She takes a sip, watching you over the rim of her cup with a raised eyebrow. “When was the last time they saw dragons in their little market?”

You snort, tearing into the duck with enthusiasm. “True enough. Besides, it’s not like we landed on purpose. It was Grey Ghost’s idea,” you say, patting an imaginary spot on your shoulder as if your elusive dragon were sitting there in all his glory.

Baela snorts, almost choking on her wine. “Blaming the dragon now, are we? That’s bold, even for you.”

“It was either him or you,” you tease, raising your goblet in her direction. “And I’d rather not get punched again.”

She grins, taking a bite of a juicy pear. “Well, if you’d listened to me about the landing, perhaps Moondancer and I wouldn’t have had to ‘accidentally’ steer toward the fish stalls.”

You feign a dramatic sigh, leaning back in your chair. “So you’re admitting you aimed for them?”

She raises her hands in mock innocence, though her expression gives her away. “I’m just saying…they were in my line of sight. Couldn’t be helped.”

The two of you share a conspiratorial laugh, and you settle into a comfortable silence for a few moments, eating and relishing the food before you. The clinking of goblets and the faint hum of conversation from the servants moving around the hall only add to the warmth of the moment.

After a while, you catch Baela’s eye as she inspects a bowl of clams with a look of profound suspicion.

“Something wrong?” you ask, leaning forward, genuinely curious.

She pokes at the clam with her knife. “I just don’t understand why anyone would willingly eat these things,” she says, wrinkling her nose. “It’s like…eating the ocean itself.”

“Oh, come on,” you laugh, picking one up and slurping it down with exaggerated enthusiasm. “It’s all part of the Driftmark experience. Besides,” you add, leaning in, “if I eat enough of these, maybe the people of Hull will forgive us.”

She groans, dramatically covering her eyes. “If you start smelling like clams, I’m sitting at the other end of the table.”

You both laugh, but then you notice Corlys entering the hall, his expression bemused as he approaches. He stops just short of the table, arms crossed, watching the two of you with an amused glint in his eye.

“Enjoying your meal?” he asks dryly, though you can tell he’s barely holding back a smile.

“Oh, absolutely, Lord Corlys,” you say with a grin, gesturing to the bounty in front of you. “We’re doing our best to make up for today’s…misadventure.”

Baela snickers. “It was hardly a misadventure. Just an unplanned stop.”

Corlys raises an eyebrow. “An unplanned stop in the heart of Hull, amidst the fishmongers’ stalls, with half the town looking on in sheer terror?”

“Well,” you say, sharing a glance with Baela, “it was bound to happen eventually.”

Corlys sighs, though there’s a hint of pride in his expression. “Just try not to cause too much havoc in the future. I’d like to keep my alliances intact, if it’s all the same to you.”

Baela gives him an angelic smile. “We’ll do our best, Grandsire. No promises, of course.”

He chuckles, giving each of you a pat on the shoulder before heading back toward the head of the hall, shaking his head as he goes. You and Baela watch him leave, and as soon as he’s out of earshot, the two of you burst into laughter once more.

Baela raises her goblet, and you clink yours against hers with a grin. “To causing trouble,” she says with a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

“To making it look good,” you reply, raising your drink.

And with that, the two of you dive back into your meal, already plotting your next adventure—or misadventure, depending on how you look at it.

[lyxthen]

I like it when old people have romance plots in media. Divorced parent gets a new partner and their child loves them. Widow re-marries and finds happiness with their new spouse. Old gays finally able to have their dream wedding and live their lives openly. Elders finding love in a nursing home found-family style. Just. People older than 30 falling in love and having fulfilling relationships is what I mean. Because all I see ever is divorce plots and grief and loneliness because apparently you can only ever be happy and have fun as a teen/young adult. The moment you hit a certain age you stop being elegible for the role rom-com protagonist. It's a little discouraging tbh. I want to see that change.

[eddis-not-eeddis]

Prayer Request 8/25/24

Could I get prayers for Y, the wife of a Christian brother in one of my prayer groups who went overseas recently? She suffered a miscarriage just before they left, and they had to return early because her mother is dying. She is going through so much right now. She was faithful even through the deeply painful circumstances and supported her husband's ministry, but her losses are indescribable. Please pray that the ministry they took part in bears rich fruit, and give thanks that this family continued to serve through everything Satan is throwing at them, and pray that they will continue to persevere, and that these trials won't break them, but will instead refine them and make them stronger.

[enbymoomin]

Sure is interesting watching Queen Charlotte: A Bridgerton Story as a gay anti-monarchy American because one moment I'm sympathizing with George's mental health struggles but also I'm pouring the tea in the harbor you get me?

[falesten-iw]

To Those Who Still Hold Onto a Shred of Morality and Humanity - Stand with Us and Don’t Forget Us.

Over 40,000 lives have been lost, with 70% of them being children and women. Among these numbers are my own family members—many of whom I’ve already lost.

My family, my cousin, aunt, their children, and grandchildren were all directly targeted by Israeli airstrikes. I’m sharing a video of my aunt and cousin to reveal the harsh reality we are facing in Gaza. In this video, my aunt bravely shares her story about how the Israeli army airstruck them along with their children and grandchildren. Even if you don’t understand Arabic, just watching her speak will help you grasp the immense suffering we are enduring in Gaza. You can see the vedeo in this post.

The few family members who remain are in grave danger, and I’m terrified of losing them too. We have a chance to make a real difference and give my 24 surviving family members a chance to live.

In Gaza, jobs are non-existent, and nonprofit organizations like the UN have drastically reduced their work on the ground. Basic necessities such as milk, food, and medicine are almost as expensive as gold. My family is struggling to afford even the essentials, and my mother urgently needs medication that we simply cannot afford.

I’m also sharing another video that shows the daily struggle people face just to get clean water. The suffering here extends far beyond my family; it’s a genocide affecting every aspect of life in Gaza.

Thanks to the generosity of those who have already donated, we’ve raised $535 toward our goal of $190,363- august 17th. I’m deeply grateful to each of you, but we still have a long way to go, and I need your help more than ever. Imagine if it were your family—how would you feel if they were in this situation?

For those who have created special posts or reblogged to amplify my voice, thank you from the bottom of my heart. Your support means everything to me and to my family. If you haven’t yet shared our story, please take just one minute to do so. Your voice could be the lifeline my family desperately needs.

You cannot continue to treat human lives as mere numbers. This is a genocide that demands immediate action. How many more should be killed before you all wake up? Will 40,000 lives be enough to stir us to action? 50,000? 100,000? 150,000?

Asking for donations and charity is something we never imagined having to do in Gaza before the war, and it’s heartbreaking that it has come to this. But if everyone who saw my last post donated just $10 or $20, we could reach our goal in no time. If you’re looking for a way to contribute, consider giving up your coffee, tea, or other “cup” for one day, one week, one month, or anything in between. Then, donate what you would have spent to help me. Please help us and donate now!

This is about more than just donations—it’s about preserving human lives and upholding our shared moral values. Your contribution can make a world of difference in our survival and ensure I don’t lose more of the people I love.

Demanding an end to this suffering is a matter of basic humanity. You cannot remain neutral in the face of such genocide. Please, let’s stand together. Enough is enough.

Every donation, no matter how small, brings us closer to hope and healing. Thank you again for your kindness and support. I will never forget it.

Vetted and shared by @90-ghost: Link.

Verified and shared by @el-shab-hussein: Link

Listed even as number 282 in "The Vetted Gaza Evacuation Fundraiser Spreadsheet" compiled by @el-shab-hussein and @nabulsi : Link

Additionally, Al Jazeera News has documented apart of my family's case: Link

Important note: ** 105 Swedish kr is just 10$ ** 1050 Swedish kr is just 100$ ** 10500 Swedish kr is just 1000$

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[reem-alajrami]

Hello everyone

I am Reem, a Palestinian from Gaza ،I am 50 years old, my husband passed away since I was not 23 years old at that time, leaving me with three children, the oldest of whom is Diana 5 years old, Issam 4 years old, and my youngest son Abdullah 10 months old, so I decided not to marry again and to devote my life to them, so I completed my education and worked as a teacher in a government school.

and raised my children until they grew up and got married and we remained until this moment in one house, supporting each other through the days in a family atmosphere and a house full of warmth and reassurance.

Until the war came and made us lose our home and the security we lived in,

as we were deported from the north of the Gaza Strip to the south, where there was no shelter except a dilapidated tent,

This is my daily struggle to light a fire and use it to prepare bread and cook food with the firewood and paper available to us in the absence of electricity and cooking gas

and I remained playing the role of father and mother until this moment and supporting my children and their children, as I also have three grandchildren.

But I regret to say that after more than a year of the ongoing war, I lost all the money I had saved and now we are in dire need of help in order to complete and provide the necessities of life, which have become competitive with the prices of gold here in the south of Gaza. We are suffering from a shortage of all the necessary necessities as there is no access to healthy food, clean water, shelter and medicine.

Every penny counts. Your support will make a huge difference in saving lives. I believe in the free world and your kind hearts.

Please donate and share this fundraising campaign. It will save lives

My campaign has been verified by:

@ot3 here

@90-ghost here

@bilal-salah0 here

@khanger here @a-shade-of-blue here

@feluka here

[fiapple]

Hey everyone, @wafs-posts and I have been talking, and she has asked me to reach out to all of you with a message:

Wafa's little girl appeals to all of you, people of compassionate hearts and humanity, to donate so that she can meet her mother and be treated. Donate for this beautiful child. Give her hope that they will meet soon. Please donate, share, and tag those with large accounts to help and save Wafa's little girl and her family and make her embrace her mother. They live in… They go to war alone in difficult circumstances, and her mother is their sole breadwinner 🥺🥺🙏

Wafaa is a kind, compassionate, warmhearted woman who wants nothing more than to be able to reunite with her family and bring them somewhere that they can all be safe. For months, Wafaa has been putting every last bit she has into this campagin in order to do so. The campaign recently hit the the halfway point, and has been making it's way closer to the goal, but she & her family have been experiencing consistent lulls in donations thereby making the situation increasingly worrisome, as Wafaa needs the funds to both evacuate her family and to help them access whatever resources (in particular regarding food & water) that are available to them within the Gaza Strip. She is doing everything in her ability to support her family, made up of 15 people including a small newborn who has been struggling due to the conditions they are living in. Wafaa is incredibly worried for them, particularly her daughter and grandchildren. Her young granddaughter in particular is like a princess to the family, as they love to spoil her. Her family should be allowed to find safety and allowed to find peace.

Please, everyone, Wafaa is one of the most caring and steadfast people that I have ever met. Please, take the time to read she & her family's story, and give whatever you are able in order to help reunite.

[mohamedjshamia]

Help My Family Escape the War in Gaza: A Cry for Safety and Survival

Dear Friends and Supporters,

I write to you with a heart heavy with pain and urgency. My name is Mohammad Jamal Shamia, and I reside in Sweden. I am raising funds to help my family and loved ones, who are trapped in Gaza, escape the unimaginable horrors of war. Their lives have been turned upside down, and now they stand on the brink of despair, with no place to call home and no future in sight. We are fighting for their survival.

A Family Torn Apart by War

My family consists of eight members: my father, my mother, my four sisters, and my two brothers. Each one of them has a story of pain and loss, but I will start with my father, Jamal Shamia, who is still in Gaza. His home was destroyed in the very first days of the war. A single rocket shattered not just his home, but also our hopes and dreams. The life he had worked so hard to build was reduced to rubble in a heartbeat. He now stands without a roof over his head, in a place where there is no security, no peace, and no hope for the future.

My mother, who left Gaza for surgery in Egypt before the war started, is now stranded on the Egyptian side, unable to return and without any support. She worries every day about my father, her children, and grandchildren who remain in Gaza, not knowing if they will survive another day.

Sisters in Crisis: Homes Lost, Lives Disrupted

My sister Rasha Jamal Shamia and her husband, Khalil Abu Samaan, have two children, Mira and Omar. They have been forced to flee their home in Gaza City and are now living in a tent in Rafah, far from everything they once knew. Their home, their children’s education, and their future—everything is gone. Their days are filled with fear, and their nights bring no rest. The constant sound of bombs haunts them, and they have no way to provide their children with the life they deserve.

My sister Rana Jamal Shamia and her husband, Mohammed Salama, are in a similarly desperate situation. Their two children, Amir and Taim, witnessed the destruction of their home firsthand. The bomb that took away their shelter also left Rana and her family with deep physical and emotional scars. They are now displaced in Rafah, struggling every day to survive. The trauma they have endured is unimaginable.

My sister Maram Jamal Shamia and her husband, Mareed Al-Suwirki, were able to leave Gaza with their children, but they carry with them the scars of war. Their home in Gaza was destroyed, and they lost everything. Mareed, a dentist, lost his job, and they are now trying to rebuild their lives outside the war zone, but they need your help.

My youngest sister, Reem, has been living outside Gaza for some time, but she hasn’t been able to reunite with the family. The pain of separation and worry for her loved ones has been unbearable.

A Brother’s Dreams Shattered

My brother Ahmad Jamal Shamia is a bright, ambitious student who was in his third year of dental school at Al-Azhar University in Gaza. The war took everything from him—his education, his home, his dreams. Ahmad was ranked first in his class, always striving to be the best and help others. Now, he is left with nothing. He moves from one temporary shelter to another, hoping for a chance to continue his studies in Egypt. But without financial support, this dream too will be lost.

The Desperate Situation

The situation in Gaza is beyond dire. Every day, my family faces unimaginable hardships. They live in constant fear, with bombings happening around them day and night. They are without basic necessities—no reliable access to food, water, or medical care. The trauma of living through this horror has left deep emotional wounds that will take years to heal, if ever.

We are desperate to get them out. We want to transport them to Egypt, where they can begin to rebuild their lives and find safety. But this escape comes at a high cost. It will take $5,000 per adult and $2,500 per child to cross the border and start anew in Egypt. My family is counting on this fundraising effort to save their lives.

How You Can Help

Your support can make a life-saving difference. Every contribution, no matter the size, brings us closer to rescuing my family from this nightmare. With your help, we can reunite them with safety and security on the other side of the border. Time is running out, and the risks increase with every passing day.

Please consider donating to our campaign. Your generosity will not only provide my family with the means to escape the immediate danger but also offer them hope for a future where they can begin to heal and rebuild their lives. I cannot thank you enough for your support.

Together, We Can Save Lives

My family is relying on the kindness of strangers and friends alike to help them escape the ongoing violence. Your donation is not just financial assistance—it is a lifeline, a chance at survival. We need you now more than ever. Please, stand with us and help bring my family to safety.

Thank you for your kindness, your compassion, and your support. Together, we can make a difference. Together, we can save lives.

@pcktknife @palestinegenocide @plomegranate @punkitt-is-here @northgazaupdates2 @el-shab-hussein @nabulsi @sar-soor @sayruq @helpingg @horrorhorizon @heydreamchild @terezbian @tamamita @everydaylouie @palipunk @queerstudiesnatural @onedollopofsourcream @relelvance @itslucyhenley @jackrackhams @just-browsing1222 @junosaccount @what-even-is-thiss @wildandmoody @walaaibrahim @arabian-batboy @soon-palestine @gazafunds

[madamspellmans-met-tet]

How Eve Best’s acting broke my heart—again.

We need to talk.

This entire scene already had me tearing up simply because of Rhaenys’ expressions.

First, Rhaenys walks up to the docks, tense, a stern look on her face. She corrects Alyn about her title, taking back control. She’s known for a long time about Corlys’ indiscretion, but this is the first time she’s confronted with it, face to face. She needs to see for herself.

Alyn struggles to meet her eye whereas Rhaenys keeps studying him as if it could help her understand. She’s had time to process her husband’s betrayal, but the scar still itches when irritated. She still doesn’t understand why, because he is so devoted to her. Their love is and always has been strong, so how could he have done it?

Then the hand to the cheek, a tender gesture. Assessing, yes, but we’ve only seen her do this with Baela and Rhaena before—which is why this was so incredibly meaningful to me.

It’s almost as if she accepts him as her own. He’s Corlys’ child, she sees him in Alyn, and she knows he’s innocent. And if Rhaenys is anything, then protective of her children/grandchildren.

“Your mother must’ve been very beautiful.”

Her husband’s betrayal made her question her own appearance; if she wasn’t comely enough anymore. If she was too old, too worn. Considering the love they shared, the only explanation for his affair was that the other woman was more beautiful than her, so much that he couldn’t resist, that he stopped thinking about her if only for a moment.

The little gulp, the sadness in her eyes. But there’s no blame, no resentment towards Alyn. And that’s what I so deeply admire about Rhaenys. She has so much self control in the face of the greatest pain that she can still see sense, can tell right from wrong. She could’ve lashed out at Alyn, could’ve asked Corlys to banish him from her sight, but instead she stands up for him.

It’s one of Rhaenys’ defining traits: compassion.

All throughout this scene, her eyes carry so much hurt. Like she’s dying inside. Eve said, “her heart [was] bleeding.” And it’s so visible.

Corlys comes into the picture. He dances around it, not wishing to bring further pain upon his wife, who he is already desperately trying to win back after his absence, even going to war just to prove his loyalty and devotion to her.

But Rhaenys is clear. She knows. Her eyes glaze with tears and Corlys can’t stand seeing it, averts his gaze, gets defensive when Rhaenys demands Alyn should be honoured for his deeds despite his origins, despite her pride.

It would bring shame on her, but she is willing to take it.

She stands by her husband.

But Corlys loathes himself for what he has done and changes the topic, almost attacking her with, “Is that why you came? To subject me to an inquisition?”

Rhaenys is shattered when she leaves, not necessarily because of Alyn and the confrontation, but because she feels like everything she’s held on to so tightly, through all the pain and loss, is slipping through her fingers. She’s coming undone, falling apart. She’s lost so much, and she’s feeling like she’s losing her husband, her marriage, too, despite the love they share.

Corlys looks after her with his lost puppy eyes, feeling helpless. How can I fix this?

that was my rambling for today. still processing. rest in peace, my queen.

[lxdyred]

By order of the King

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Niece!Reader, Helaena Targaryen x Niece!Reader (Possibly in the future), Aegon Targaryen x Niece!Reader (Possibly in the future)

WC: 2.4k

Summary: Amidst political turmoil and family feuds, the only and eldest Velaryon daughter, struggles through a tumultuous marriage arranged for strategic gain that quickly escalates into betrayal and tragedy. As she grapples with grief and tensions mount, she faces heartache and sorrow, she grapples with her future as a looming conflict threatens to engulf her in a web of deceit and fear.

Warnings: Mature themes, sexual content (mentioned and lightly described), power dynamics, toxic relationship, violence and death, incestuous overtones, emotional turmoil, psychological themes, character deaths, ambiguous morality.

If you wish to be tagged let me know :)

Not only was war about to break out, ready to blow everything up — including the Targaryen dynasty. Her damn marriage of convenience was also about to explode.

It was King Viserys, her grandfather, who proposed the marriage between his eldest granddaughter and his second son, Aemond Targaryen. The idea was not well-received by any of the black team's supporters, especially Rhaenyra Targaryen, but having to ensure that her son Luke was the heir to Driftmark, she had to give in and betroth her firstborn and only daughter, her dear baby girl.

Not everything was disadvantageous, since having her younger half-brother married to her daughter would bind and commit the greens to seeing her as the future queen.

Or so they all briefly thought, until the King's death.

"The rift in our family will heal, and we will be more united." This was what Viserys the Peaceful said, with difficulty, as he received Rhaenyra and Daemon, and all their progeny, at court for the first time in six years.

The wedding was held that same afternoon, privately. Only the closest to the king attended the ceremony. His children, his wife, his grandchildren, his nieces, the Hand, and Princess Rhaenys. Shortly after, he succumbed to pain, having to be taken to his quarters where he drank milk of the poppy to be able to sleep.

The Hightowers thought this would benefit their discussion about Driftmark's inheritance the next day. Without the king present, they could declare Vaemond Velaryon as heir to his brother, the Sea Snake, who was still hovering between life and death. And, in a way, they could more freely insinuate the illegitimacy of Rhaenyra's elder children. Killing two birds with one stone.

"Now you are a recognized Targaryen, despite your illegitimate descent, wife." These were the first venomous words Aemond addressed to his now wife for the first time in years. "I will make sure you do not follow your mother's path, that the children you carry in your womb are mine, and no one else's." He murmured, while caressing his wife's dark hair, a certain warmth and delicacy in the act.

"I would never think of it, my prince." She whispered, carefully watching his movements as he circled her.

As if she were his prey.

"Do you know what comes next? What is expected of you on our wedding night?" He asked, tilting his head, once he stood in front of her.

"To consummate our union, to give you an heir."

"Hm." He hummed. "I will not be harsh with you, I will be gentle. Until you ask me not to be."

There was no love between them, not even the slightest hint of the friendship that once existed in their childhood. She would be lying if she said he did not keep his word. He was not rough or harsh with her, but considerate and gentle. The union brought something she did not expect, pleasure.

She felt a lot of pleasure; he gave her pleasure. She supposed it was to keep her satisfied, so she wouldn't seek comfort in another man's arms, thus avoiding the possibility and shame of bastards.

Bastards of a bastard, it sounded ironic.

Once he finished inside her, after making her climax three times, he caressed her face, looking attentively at how her face reflected pleasure and satisfaction. Then he got off her, dressed, and left her alone in her room, without a word.

A few days later, her mother, her brothers, Daemon, and her stepsisters had to return to Dragonstone, leaving her in that place infested with snakes and traitors — without knowing what was to come.

Her grandfather died that very night, and the next day, not even a full day later, they crowned Aegon as king in the Dragonpit, in front of the entire people. Placing the conqueror's crown on his head, wielding his sword to the cheers of the people.

She could only bite her tongue and dig her nails into her skin until she bled, while averting her gaze. Not recognizing her uncle, the usurper, as king.

That night, when her husband visited her chambers to have sex with her again, as expected of him, as had been the case every night since they married, it was she who took control. It was she who set the pace and used him, leaving behind the gentleness he had previously offered her. It was she who began to be harsh.

Their encounters became rough and hard, with no room for frills or romance. After all, that was the only way she had to vent.

They did it, finished, and each went their separate ways.

In less than a month she was already pregnant.

"Blessed be the gods for this good news." Was what Alicent Hightower said upon receiving the news, while taking the hands of her young daughter-in-law. "Viserys would be delighted with this news. Finally, the Seven smile upon us."

"Do you think? I think they mock us." She whispered, tears in her eyes.

She wanted to go home, to find comfort in her mother's arms, who should be the queen of the Seven Kingdoms and sitting on the Iron Throne.

From the day they received the news, Aemond stopped visiting her at night, and she spent hours staring at her bed canopy, caressing her still nonexistent baby bump. The life growing inside her was the only thing she had in that cold place.

How she longed to talk to her mother freely, but of course, writing to her and sending a raven at that time, without supervision, without practically the entire king's small council approving it, could be considered treason. And to think of proposing to visit her, by the Seven Gods.

What a fucking mess.

Days went by, her loneliness grew, her breasts became more sensitive, her aversion to certain smells became more noticeable. Still, the only pleasant company she had and found some comfort in was Helaena and her children.

Beings of light, innocent and joyful.

"How are things with my brother?" Helaena asked while observing the cages in which she kept some insects.

"He usually asks about how I am feeling, how the pregnancy is going — but other than that, we do not... interact. We practically live separate lives."

"Does he not discuss his duties with you?"

"The bare minimum. I only know that today he is leaving for Storm's End, to speak with Borros Baratheon."

"Oh." Helaena said, looking at her with an expression she couldn't decipher.

"What is it?"

"It is just that I feel a storm is coming. I do not know, it is strange."

"But the skies are clear, Hel?"

And the storm came, just as Helaena had said.

The next morning she woke up later than usual, none of the maids who usually attended to her came to wake her, which made her wonder why no one had disturbed her until then. She tried to dismiss the thought, leaning towards the belief that they were simply letting her rest due to the lack of energy she felt because of the pregnancy.

When she left her room to meet Helaena and have breakfast with her, she encountered one of the Kingsguard, Ser Arryk Cargyll, who had been patiently waiting for her, for who knows how long.

"Did Helaena send you for me?" The young princess asked doubtfully, as it was usually not Ser Arryk who escorted her anywhere.

"No, princess." Replied the sworn knight softly. "The queen mother sends me; she is waiting for you to meet her and Prince Aemond in her apartments." He said, pointing out the path they were to take, a fleeting, small, empathetic smile adorning his face as if he were trying to hide something.

"Has something happened, Ser Arryk?" She asked as they walked towards Alicent Hightower's apartments. Uncertainty gripped her, for each time they encountered someone from the court, or a servant or guard, they averted their gaze from the young woman, as if not wanting to reveal something. "Have I been accused of treason or something?" The young woman murmured with a mix of doubt and jest, stopping and looking at the Cargyll twin.

"Not at all, princess." The man replied, shaking his head. "The reason for the audience will be revealed when we arrive, I promise."

"Has someone died, by any chance?" The young woman asked, the question hanging in the air.

Ser Arryk did not respond, simply escorting her to the queen mother's chambers. Where, indeed, she discovered that someone had died.

Her baby brother, Luke. At the hands of her own husband, ironically.

With one hand over her mouth and the other over her stomach, she shook her head, under the watchful eyes of Aemond, Alicent, Otto, Aegon, and Ser Criston. She leaned against the brick wall of the queen's chambers, her gaze passing over each of the people present, her tears welling up in her eyes, and the words unable to pass her throat, where she felt a tight knot.

Alicent tried to approach her, raising a hand to touch her shoulder in consolation. "Oh, sweet girl, this was—" she tried to speak, as she finished approaching her.

The young woman, with a slap, pushed her hand away and took a few steps back to distance herself. Now, with tears streaming down her cheeks, blurring her vision, she clumsily opened the door and briskly set off towards anywhere far from any of them.

Without a fixed direction, she turned every corner she encountered until an overwhelming urge to vomit flooded her, and she ended up clutching a large decorative urn, where she emptied her stomach. Amidst the vomiting and retching, she felt a hand rubbing her back in support.

“No, no—” she tried to speak as she pulled away from the person, slightly dragging herself on the ground, wiping her lips with the sleeve of her dress. “No, please,” she whispered through tears, her eyes closed.

“I do not like feeling sick either.”

“What— Jaehaerys…” she whispered the boy’s name, who brought his little hand to her face and wiped away a tear.

“Does your tummy hurt, Auntie?” asked the little boy, who was kneeling beside her, his head tilted and looking at her with concern. Innocence was all that reflected in the eyes of the usurper's progeny.

“A little, yes. Something did not sit well with me, little one.” The young woman sniffed and tried to smile at the boy as best she could.

“Jaehaerys.” Helaena called to her young son, and seeing how he tried to comfort the princess, she approached them, kneeling in front of the duo. “Why don’t you go play with your sister, hm? I shall stay and take care of her, yes?”

The silver-haired boy looked at his mother and then at his aunt, who was still giving him a small smile, even though her lower lip was trembling. He nodded and looked at the small wooden dragon he had in one of his hands before placing it in the young princess’s hand.

“You can keep it until you feel better.”

“Thank you, little prince.”

“Maybe playing with it will help you.” He murmured before standing up and running towards one of the servants who took care of Helaena’s children.

The usurper’s wife, whom she had adored since childhood, helped her up from the ground, and with an arm around her, while she cried silently, accompanied her to her room, where she broke into almost agonising, pain-filled sobs. Helaena sat at the foot of the young woman’s bed while she cried with her head in her lap, broken with grief.

For hours, the one considered the new queen, with a pure heart and only good intentions, stayed in the same position, doing everything in her power to calm and console her dear one, who was her sister-in-law, niece, and friend, all in one person. She stroked her long hair while trying to offer comforting words; the young Velaryon, slightly younger than her, could only cling to her waist with one arm, while in the other hand she held the wooden dragon that little Jaehaerys had given her. She kept her face hidden in Helaena’s lap, crying and crying, until finally, she fell asleep from crying and sobbing so much.

“Leave. Have you not made her suffer enough?” she thought she heard Helaena say sharply, something that very rarely happened, in the distance of her dream.

She knew that the one who was now definitely her only trusted person in the place had just thrown out her husband, the murderer of her younger brother.

Aemond did not manage to articulate a word to excuse himself when he showed up, merely mumbling under his breath, his gaze fixed on his beautiful wife, clinging to the body of his sister.

Helaena gave him a fierce, defiant look, insisting without repeating her words that he leave, which he eventually did. The slam of the door behind him woke the princess, who turned her head and stared at the door.

“Do not worry, he is gone now,” murmured Helaena, looking at her with sadness and empathy, still stroking her hair.

“I do not know what I am going to do,” whispered the young Velaryon, her voice hoarse from crying so much, as she lowered her hand to her belly, where her baby was growing.

That creature, who was also the progeny of a Kinslayer, the prince with one eye. The person she could most despise at that precise moment.

The mere thought of being responsible for giving him a child, something that was already happening, made her blood boil and filled her with deep disgust for the situation.

And indirectly, a certain rejection, towards her unborn child.

She was condemned to spend the rest of her days with him, bound to him, because of her condition. Because of the son or daughter who had not yet been born, but soon would be.

She was in that position by the decision of Viserys, her late and naïve grandfather. “By order of the king…” she murmured sarcastically, as she felt the tears well up in her eyes again.

By order of the late king, she was in that situation, but that would not stop her from making things difficult for Aemond.

A shadow began to loom over her, just as the war that was about to be declared.

Although, to be honest, they were all screwed.

So royally fucked.

[iamfarfromvibingrightnow]

‏Hello,

‏I am writing to you in desperate need of your support. I am the mother of a family that is now facing the harshest of circumstances due to the war that has stripped us of everything. We have lost our home and our safety, and we now live in constant fear for our lives and the lives of our children and grandchildren. 😔

‏I cannot begin to describe the pain I feel as I watch my family suffer like this. We are now homeless, struggling every day just to survive, at a time when getting help has become increasingly difficult. 💔

‏I am pleading with you from the depths of my heart—if there is any way you can help us, whether by sharing our story or providing any form of support, know that even the smallest act of kindness can save my family’s life. 🫂❤️

‏I understand that life is challenging for everyone, but I believe that compassion and humanity still live in people's hearts. If you are able to help us during this difficult time, I trust that God will reward you for every good deed you do. 🙏✨

‏Thank you for taking the time to read my message, and I pray that God protects you and your loved ones. 🧡

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

can we have more disowned!Jason pls??

Bruce was thankful for the drive. It gave him time to think. Mostly of things to say.

He'd sent a new washer and dryer, only to have them politely but firmly refused. Not by Jason, which he expected, but by you. You explained that it was appreciated but not necessary. And then before hanging up the phone, suggested that he donate the money to a support group for estranged parents. Electronics for the kids were similarly received- albeit less politely by Jason. Jason outright sent them back in pieces.

It was a risk, and he knew that. But by the time he pulled into town and was driving down tree-lined streets he was resolved. He had grandchildren now. He had a son who was happy. A Daughter in law... It was- well. Not a 'normal' family but, why did that matter?

There was a new baby on the way. Surely you had to need something to make it easier? College funds? Was the house paid for? He went through the options over and over. Considering the things he knew from the court documents. How you'd come to have your niece and nephew in your custody. The long sad story that got there.

You were steadfast and compassionate- that he knew. And proud. An offer that felt like charity would be rejected. Because you were doing it- or had been doing it on your own. Caring for your grandmother and then your mother. Fighting with the courts. Running a business. And raising two kids. You didn't want charity.

He pulled up on the curb and checked his watch, frowning. Both cars were still in the drive. Which was odd. Dick had told him you usually took the kids to school and opened the store.

He walked up the front steps and rang the bell. Greeted by the cacophony of dogs barking and Jason grumbling as he lumbered to the door.

Jason rolled his eyes when he saw Bruce at the door. "Not now-"

"I come in peace," Bruce said holding up his hands.

"Now's not a good time," Jason said, picking up the Yorkie before she could bolt out the door.

"What happened?" Bruce asked, heart dropping. Jason looked tense. Stressed. Upset. "Are the kids-"

"There was a break in at the hardware. Y/N was working late doing the books. Local scumbags busted in looking for tools they could sell. And copper. They didn't know she was there, so when she walked out to see what was happening, they panicked. Busted her in the face a couple times and someone kicked her stomach." Jason exhaled slowly. "Boris got to them and scared them off when he heard her struggling. And then. Fuck. As if it wasn't bad enough, his fucking heart just gave out and her dog died."

"Jason-"

"Now is really not a good time," Jason repeated, swallowing hard.

And all Bruce can do is hug him. Hard. Jason never did do well when women were in danger. When they were attacked like that. And now it was one of HIS women. His wife. The mother of his children. And she hadn't been able to call him for help. "Is... everything okay?" he asked, releasing him when Jason started to pull away.

"They kept her in the hospital for a couple days and they want to keep her on bed rest for a while. They were worried about her back and her ribs. And the stress of it all. But- mostly she just... she's worried about the baby. She's worried about the kids. And she misses Borris."

"A good boy-"

"Her best friend," Jason said, smiling a little. "And then he had to go and prove he really did love her more than me... grumpy old fucker."

"I know it's not a good time," Bruce said, not wanting to add more stress to his son. Or risk upsetting you and making it worse for you. "But if you need anything-"

"Just make sure those scumbags stay in jail," Jason said. "Because if I get my hands on them, I'll break their fucking necks."

"At least you aren't going to shoot-"

"Y/N makes me store my guns and my ammo in two separate places," he sighed. "And she moved it after Ty found it- now I don't know where it is."

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

This is an admittedly random ask, but since you've been getting asks about Camilla, I'm jumping in with: what do you think about Carole, and the unflattering way the media portrays her?

Also, I have this completely speculative theory that, had Catherine not married William, she would have turned her focus and her considerable talents for branding and visual communication on Party Pieces at some point, and the company would still be active and successful today. That brings me to the second random question, do you think the Middletons are better off as the PoW's in-laws or rather have they paid a heavy price for supporting W&K?

I like Carole. She's just a mum who worked hard and gave her kids great lives. She's like the Reba theme song: a mom who works too hard, loves her kids and never stops, with gentle hands and the heart of a fighter. Only her ex didn't leave her for his ditzy blonde dental hygeniest, she wasn't single, her eldest daughter wasn't a teenage mother.

The press needed a villain in William and Kate's relationship to sensationalize their stories for profit. They couldn't cast Camilla in the role because William and Kate didn't really associate with her. But they did hang out often with the Middletons, so Carole it was, and the press used her as their foil to an otherwise innocent, normal, and boring love story. Minus the whole "future king of England" bit.

I agree that Kate would've worked at Party Pieces in marketing or advertising if William wasn't in the picture I don't think it would've been her full-time job. I think it would've been more of a part-time hobby, while her actual job would've been something more creative - maybe something in museums or in fashion (like a British Jenna Lyons-type) since that seemed to be her trajectory before things got serious with William.

I don't think Party Pieces would've remained successful today if Kate was involved. The company was starting to struggle before the pandemic and the pandemic just really accelerated things. And to be completely honest, I think Party Pieces had been struggling for a good long while in the late '00s and the '10s as more competitors flooded the marketplace and the internet amde international commerce easier. I feel that Kate's relationship with William definitely injected some much-needed support and attention into Party Pieces (who wouldn't want to buy party supplies from the future king's future mother-in-law?) and if Kate wasn't with William, Carole and Mike probably would've sold Party Pieces much earlier.

And yes, the Middletons have paid a price for Kate's relationship with William but frankly, I don't think they care. Mike and Carole love their kids and would do anything for them so supporting Kate, and supporting William, wasn't a difficult choice if/when they saw how much she loved him. If Mike and Carole had to do it all over again, they would probably make the same choices. (Most of them - maybe Carole wouldn't chew gum at William's Sandhurst passing out ceremony because the press really villanized her for that.)

For Mike and Carole, the good in supporting their daughter's relationship (her happiness, an adoring son-in-law, beautiful grandchildren, the privileges of being adjacent to the BRF, etc.) far outweighs the bad (press fodder and privacy invasion). A lot of parents would make the same sacrifices for their children in the exact same half-a-heartbeat that the Middletons did.

For me, the Middletons navigated being royal in-laws superbly, creating a brand new role in the BRF, and one that seems here to stay. No complaints here.

[mysimsloveaffair]

Figuring out the age of Sims in the Sims 4 is tough. Sims don’t have a set ‘birthday,’ and they age up based on life stages, making it hard for legacy players and storytellers to narrow down exactly what ‘age’ a sim is. Let’s face it: there’s a big difference between a child who is five years old and one who is twelve.

I’ve been a legacy/storyteller for years. Previously, I relied on the in-game ‘normal’ life span for my sims. However, I often felt rushed to get my sims married and have children. This was to avoid the problem of my elder sims dying off before meeting their grandchildren. This issue became even worse when the Discover University Expansion was introduced. If I want to send my sims to college, it takes up even more of their young adult years. Consequently, the marriage/child ‘rush’ becomes a bigger issue.

Eventually, I turned to the MC Command Center mod to solve this by creating my own age ranges, giving each life stage ample time to pursue their goals, develop as characters, and later find someone to spend their lives with. With some tweaking over the years, I came up with the life stage breakdowns you see above. I tried matching the number of sim days in each life stage with an ‘age’ that matches what we’re used to in the real world. I am sharing this because it might be helpful for anyone else who is struggling to ‘age’ their sims. And while it’s not perfect, it could be a good starting point, and I hope it helps!

A large/printable version of this graphic is available on my website here: My Sims 4 Lifespan**

**Link takes you to my WordPress website

Thanks to @storiesbyjes2g, as always, for her feedback!

[quitblamingnarcissism]

"Narcissistic parents have fantasies about who their children are and make them feel like shit for not living up to those fantasies."

You just described every ableist parent who forces their child into abusive therapies in order to bully their child into acting normal, or who refuse to help their child with unique struggles because they deny that those struggles exist.

You just described every parent who labels their child as "gifted" then complains when the child ends up completely burned out.

You just described every homophobic or transphobic parent who refuses to accept their child's LGBT identity or who berates their child for deviating from gender roles.

You just described every parent who wants a doctor or lawyer and complains when their child chooses to be an artist instead.

You just described every parent who insists that their daughter give up her career dreams and instead marry a rich man.

You just described every parent who berates their grown child for being child-free because they expect grandchildren.

You just described every parent who wants an obedient child and punishes their child for talking back.

And that's common. Parents do that openly. Parents are supported when they do that.

You could easily use this as a time to challenge society's normalization of treating children like the property of their parents. But instead, you choose to scapegoat mental illness.