#and i feel like i just. idk. i cant live like this.

[andragoras-in-vanity]

ive never heard of mushroom leather, thats actually super cool? but i do disagree with your opinion that leather will become less popular as industrial farming declines, in my experience its entirely the opposite. if small/local farms are doing the butchering they have nowhere to send the leather and hides so they become more readily available to artisans who work with those goods rather than nameless corperations with generic leather jackets that arent stitched together properly, fall apart easily, and mix materials between synthetic and leather to cut costs. as it stands now, at least in north america, majority of industrial farming just throws away the hides, which is why im in favour of small scale farms utilizing all pieces of the animal before we move to plant based (only because, again, i dont know what the process is for some plant based options and sometimes theyre equally as bad for the environment and the workers and those vegan companies try to hide that fact).

more research absolutely should be done on respectable synthetics but demand should be met with whats already safely available when possible because demand will be fairly evenly split id imagine, but i have seen a lot of misinformation about processing methods too so i do tend to be biased in favour of omnivorous options rather than 100% vegan

Ayoo just to preempt the inevitable dumb takes we’re about to start seeing;

I am PRO-WOOL

I am PRO-LEATHER

I am PRO-BEES

Fuck the idea of replacing durable, sustainable animal products with cheap, flimsy plastic that doesn’t bio-degrade. Agave nectar and other artificial sweeteners are expensive, labor-intensive, and destroy the environment to be farmed.

Do not buy into pernicious marketing campaigns pushed by dickhead organizations trying to stay relevant, like PETA.

[jumalanpelko]

HOW TO JUMALANPELKO CLANGEN

Once I get my clangen working again (My computer really said NUH UH to it after the update and ive been too lazy to try again) i will play Jumalanpelko with it.

I have done it once before. And no i dont mean with the og characters.

If someone wants to try these are the """rules""" of how I played it (feel free to do whatever you want tho):

-No leader/if there is a leader they only have one life (just kill the bitch 8 times)

-no healer/Suncat is the only healer (it is more fun if suncat is warrior tho) we are here living on the edge

-When a suncat is around a year old you kill them and choose a kitten to be the next suncat.

-the new suncat has to still have the kitten sprite to be fit to be a suncat (if you want to you can change this up. Like maybe the apprentices can also become suncats but they wont live to be a year old? Idk up to you)

-it is up to you how you want the Suneve to happen. Like if you want it to be super strict (aka suncat is 1 year and there are no kittens? Cult is dead, game over) you can! If you dont want to, then dont!

-If you want to, you can give rules to how long a suncat can live depending on their sex and fur color (like maybe full sun furred female can live 12 moons, partly sun furred female 11, sun furred male 9... ect. It is up to you)

-Guard is chosen as a kitten and trained by one of the senior guards

-Guard is made suncat's mentor OR you just put them always on the same patrol (you can choose what kinda of rules you want to give for patrols. Can suncats go for patrols? Do you have to proceed? Up to you!)

-You can give cats nicknames! It is not easy without the names (i didnt have names and i was very much going WHO???? the whole game)

-If you want you can make one cat and make them Her. Just make it so that She cant have kittens (or maybe you want She kittens i dont know you) and code Her back to life every time She dies lmao. I didnt do this but it would be funny.

EDIT: you might want to let suncats live 2 years or more, it can become pretty annoying to change the suncat every few moons

Like i said, feel free to do whatever you want!

ALSO IF YOU DO THIS PRETTY PLS TELL ME HOW IT GOES YOU CAN SEND AN ASK OR WHATEVER

[yujibooty]

Cant sleep

pairings: yuji x fem!reader

tags: fluff but freaky twist idk

(THEY’RE LEGAL/ AGED UP)

!!: My first time posting..idk how to work tumblr so bear with me

Your phone vibrates on the counter

“Coming home late <3”

you glance at the message and go back to brushing your teeth. Swift with every move, you swish your mouthwash around before spitting into the running sink. The day couldn’t get any longer, and you’re yearning to get some sleep. Putting the cap back on, you glance at the red toothbrush sitting next to your dark blue one in a cup. You two bickered nonstop for the red one, resolving to a game of rock paper scissors.

You won. But of course, it’s Yuji. You let him have it anyway, before he went to the store and bought you all the toothbrushes you could ask for. Opening the bathroom door, the cold air hits your body. You grip the damp towel covering your bare figure while tossing through your boyfriend's dresser to steal a hoodie. After covering up, you jump in your boyfriend’s sheets and wrap yourself up like there’s no tomorrow. Savoring the feeling of his mattress you sigh deeply, whiling tossing around to find the perfect spot to hibernate in. Eventually you give it a rest and try to get some sleep. Your eyes fluttering, the ambience of the pink haired boy's apartment starts to fade out.

You open your eyes again. Did you even sleep? You check your phone. 3 minutes have passed. You close your eyes again.

For about 4 minutes.

You toss over groaning. Of course the one thing you’ve been yearning for thee entire day decides to ditch you the second you’ve earned it. Before you can even whine you hear the front door open. You usually get a shout from the living room but nothing but shuffling around can be heard. Maybe he thinks you’re asleep? You hear him walk into the bathroom.

20 minutes later you hear the door open and his footsteps grow closer. You quickly face away from the door and close your eyes. The light from the rest of the house shines through the door, his figure standing there for a moment. Catching on to your scheme he quietly chuckles, “Can’t sleep?” Walking over to the bed, he kneels down to the mattresses level waiting on me to crack. Eventually you reluctantly turn around, the covers muffling your mouth to hide your smile. “What’re you doing up Y/N?” You groan tiredly and lazily in response. You watch him as you two sit in a long but comforting silence.

His pink messy hair was damp, some curls sitting to his forehead and in his face. He had a white tank top on and the cheap necklace you made for him. You glance back up to his face noticing his hazel eyes observing you too. You immediately grew self conscious. You probably look exhausted. The thought makes you curious.

“Wh-..what do you do when you can’t sleep?”

The question catches him off guard but he takes it into consideration. “When I can’t sleep, huh?” He mumbles to himself, his hand rubbing his neck. “Well..I’ve actually never had trouble sleeping.” You scoff. Course he didn’t. It’s Yuji we’re talking about after all. Seeing your reaction to his bore of a response, he laughs while pulling the covers off your face. Before you could retaliate he pushes his lips against yours. You don’t push him away but you whine. He lifts away from your face slowly to look down at you, his eyes pleading. You shove down whatever complaint you were about to spit out. Yuji never likes talking about his ‘work’ but you know it’s serious. It’s become often that he comes back just wanting- needing, your embrace. Your like the black cat to his golden retriever.

Accepting your dire fate to you needy boyfriend, he shows mercy by ending it with pecks on your lips.

Then covering your face in them.

“Kay, m’ done now.” He mumbles wiping your now glossed lip with his thumb. You regret submitting to him. And to make that clear, you turn over the second he’s finished. He doesn’t care though, happily hopping into bed, his weight making the mattress sink a little. (Didn’t feel like a little.)

you feel his hands hold you waist almost hesitantly, like you were made of glass.

That quickly changed as he pulled you into his embrace. As if he was merely testing the waters just then. His cold nose seeking warmth into your neck. Deeply inhaling like a dog who’s forgotten its owners scent. Unfazed by your loving boyfriend, you try to prepare yourself for the night,….again.

“Goodnight Yuji.” He lays his head back on his pillow. “Goodnight Y/N.”

With his slow breaths and heavy warmth over you, you finally feel your self drifting off to sleep.

“Y/N..?”

You open your eyes, but flutter them back close realizing you woke up again. Luckily, Yuji’s embrace made it much easier to drift off-

“y/n?” A low voice breaks the silence.

Yuji’s..awake? “Yes Yuji?” His body relaxes realizing you were awake.

“Can’t sleep..” He says, his tone almost ashamed, squeezing your waist and pulling you closer. Before you could ask him what was wrong you felt something press against your lower back, gently but desperately.

probably first and last time I’ll write. . .

[natsuminmin]

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆ CHATBOX LOVE -> kenma kozume !!!

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ NEVER MET! by CMTEN , glitch gum

synopsis; in which kenma is sent into a spiral after seeing a familiar username cw: deff slight angst, discord type-love , usage of baby , erm exes trope , kenma crash out , unproofread + lowercase , implied f!reader but can be interpreted as gn!reader , idk if its ooc but prob eek,

"and even though it's been a week, i still think of your face"

already? wow, a week since you had ended things with kenma. to him, it felt like months. years, even, which was why he decided to stop counting the days.

so imagine his surprise when he had randomly matched up with you in roblox.

he swears it was you, had all the the same numbers in your user, all the same accessories in your avatar.

he just had to type in the chatbox, he didn't care how desperate he sounded, he wants you back:

kod5uken : [baby? baby thats u right? its kenma]

skibidi1234 : [uhhh no sorry dude idk you]

ah. and then skibidi1234 left, probably weirded out. damn it, he was hallucinating now. on top of that, he was stupid enough to say his real name online.

he left the game himself too, closing roblox in a rage. he wanted to sleep, but his puffy eyes and stuffy nose made it hard to do so.

─── ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ───

barbie : [kenma we need to talk ]

kennie : [what is it]

barbie : [lets break up]

kennie : [oh]

kennie : [okay]

barbie : [im sorry, i cant juggle you and studies]

─── ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ───

that was the last he's heard from you because you've blocked him on everything. hell, you even blocked him on spotify. he should've listened when everyone told him e-dating was going to ruin him.

but how could he resist? he had fallen in love with you already. you were his perfect partner; games with him (somewhat bad, but you both managed), funny, attractive, his type. it's just unfortunate that you had to live miles away from him.

kenma's done sooo much impulsive things just for you: blew all his money on the latest 2-player game from steam so he could play with you, vc'ed until the latest hours of night just so he could keep talking to you, he even skipped some volleyball practices so he could come home earlier just to see you in a video chat.

ugh, he can't count all the times he's lost his dignity either. he had called you "his barbie" and he called himself ken. oh god, that was probably one of the cringiest things he's said in his life.

and don't even remind him about online karaoke, god knows how much screen records you have of his voice breaking mid-song.

speaking of records, he can't bear to delete all the adorable pictures you sent while updating him about your day. he's always liked seeing what weird and interesting things you've done. but worst of all, he's kept screenshots of every loving and tender message from you that had flustered him (spoiler alert: anything you said made his ears red.)

he opened the album he had moved the screenshots to, scrolling through it until his eyes settled on a certain one:

─── ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ───

barbie : [baby u live in japan right?]

kennie : [mhm]

barbie : [nice]

barbie : [just wait, im gonna buy tickets to fly there soon]

kennie : [ur crazy]

barbie : [sure yes whatever... i luv u ken :P]

kennie : [i love you too]

─── ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ───

oh, dear. he can feel tears running down his cheek again. yep, there it was. his recently cleared sinus was blocking up again. damn it, he thought, as he wrapped himself tighter in the sheet. he can't even enjoy playing his games anymore.

kenma still misses you, from the very day you left him. you were his perfect partner, even though you had heartlessly shattered his heart and he would probably never entrust someone with it.

you know what, he'll never respond to some random dm ever again.

unless it was from you, of course.

"it'd be better if we had just never met"

a/n: was a request from two of my dearest friends who suprisingly are kenma luvrs LOL hi guys @rahhhr @terrariumaura also this was a nod to his 2020-self ik this was so cliche and someone has probably done this but i hoped you like my own (short) spin on it guys do uu know the genius that thought of their chat names BECAUSE BECAUSE THE SONG GOES LIKE "REMEMBER WHEN I CALLED YOU MY BARBIE AND I WAS KEN" IT FITS SO WELL BECAUSE KEN-MA okay bye

[presiding]

AITA? the guys at the pub told me to find a woman because she's sleeping with my enemy but all i had was a picture of her ass that i extorted from a well-known pervert. he couldn't name her and i didn't recognise her ass so i gatecrashed a party. i narrowed it to 1 of the 3 hosts but they were basically the same woman, idk, i cant tell them apart. some guy in a mask told me he was in love with the woman i needed and would deal with everything, i just needed to get her into the basement. so i told her she was in danger and she followed me into the basement where i strangled her. i never got proof she was involved but i guess it doesnt matter cause found the ass i was told to find. i told my daughter's governess and she went quiet but the guys at the pub clapped me on the back. AITA?

poetic justice in revenge games: what's with lady boyle's last party in dishonored (2012)

a longpost i'd prefer someone else made tbh

citations/references at the end

—

where to start?

dishonored 2012 is a revenge game (tagline: "revenge solves everything" [see also dh2: take back whats yours]), where high/low chaos story outcomes represent different types of power fantasies for the intended younger male (1) core audience.

the story & level design

each dh1 level is designed around the concept of revenge. with Corvo as the player character, each betrayal he experiences in the story gives the player rationale to seek out a target for justice in each level.

"The difference between Dishonored and how it works in Half-Life 2 is that it's a lot more personal. I think you get that involvement because the character has personal relationships with people from the beginning. And it's very clear that people have fucked with you in a very personal way," [Austin Grossman] said. "I'm biased, of course, but I think Dishonored grips you much more viscerally, more emotionally." (2)

dishonored is a game about choice: between low or high chaos options, each level's story can justify your decision to kill or neutralise - (nb: this means each target must have done enough wrong to "deserve" death) - and each level design prioritises player decision-making/freedom.

a common misconception about dishonored 1 is that its a game about morality, or right and wrong, but i argue its not that deep (affectionate). the chaos system is more about your role in the city's ecosystem than a morality simulator - kill more people, rats feast, the plague gets worse and the city becomes more chaotic.

poetic justice

because dishonored is a revenge game, each level involves choosing a fate for your primary target/s that will feel like justice to you, the player.

while assassination is always an option, the ultimate goal for each level is to engineer a fitting end for your victim.

this ‘low chaos’ option is reinforced in two ways - if poetic justice isn’t fun enough on its own, the game also rewards you with achievements for choosing ‘nonlethal’ fates.

[sidebar: enough players gave feedback that they didn't enjoy the confusion of choosing the 'right' way to play, that this feedback loop was removed from dh2:doto and deathloop (3)(4)]

storywise, low chaos/nonlethal endings are designed to feel like poetic justice.

to achieve this, the target's neutralisation must be 1) uniquely tailored 2) to the deserving victim.

a common phrase you’ll see in the dh fandom communities is:

“the nonlethal fate was worse”

but if you inspect the villain's actions/planned actions there’s an aspect of scale. your decision to incapacitate a single person leads to countless lives improved, in addition to avenging their role in the character's downfall (see also: the central premise of game called dishonored). this aspect of scale in wrongdoing (eg. villains extend their villainy to not just the player but in-universe to many people) gives a feeling of heroism to acts that might otherwise feel cruel.

because this game is designed around catharsis in revenge, it's important that the player feels that their actions are both fitting and justified - generally in a “turnabout is fair play” sense. these actions may be cruel viewed without context, but they are justified in terms of scale - this game isn't about being moral, or following the law, it's about revenge.

dishonored examples of poetic justice:

campbell branded a heretic and cast out because his power came from weaponising Overseer beliefs & systems

delilah trapped in the paintings she planned to capture a child in.

sokolov who trapped civilians for experimentation, was trapped in an animal cage

each villain demonstrably, within the game’s narrative, earned their fate - and because these are fates they planned to inflict on others, or already had done worse, the player character feels justified in their choice, and by additionally tailoring to each character, there's a sense of personalised and fitting revenge.

with the exception of…

who is Lady Boyle? good qn.

in dh1, there is only one female primary target - Lady Boyle.

canonically, the player must neutralize her because she is providing funding to the man on your daughter’s rightful throne.

in broad story terms, you are asked to find her because she is burrows' mistress.

the clue to her identity is a portrait of her ass ("finest hindquarters in all of Dunwall" - Sokolov), and when you get to the party, almost no one knows who she is even though she's the host.

in terms of level design, she is literally interchangeable with her sisters - the game randomly changes who your target is, and the character models only differ by colour. in terms of the universe, she's less a person, more of a sex symbol. as well as anton's comments about her ass, there's also the pendleton brothers' comments about wanting to fuck her, as well as multiple partygoers comments about the boyle sisters' sexual availability. there's a lot of gossip ingame but little is substantiated (as a reminder: the majority of dh players have only played dh1 and have not/will not read the canon books).

from both an internal logic perspective, and an external logic perspective, it “doesn’t matter” who this only female target is. she's barely a person, more a piece of ass.

poetic justice (for her)

unlike other primary targets with their tidy poetic endings, Lady Boyle (canonically Waverly) is not personally responsible for mass deaths (unlike, say, Sokolov), nor has played an active role in your downfall. let me expand on that.

a comment i've seen a bit:

"well she deserved it because she's partying while the city burns"

a woman planning to stay sober because she's afraid someone's after her doesn't sound like she's having fun.

her funding is not proven story-wise other than hearsay until Corvo has already finished the mission (a note from a guard in the next mission mentions the Boyle funding has dried up) (otherwise its speculation, its not actually in campbell's black book).

there’s no evidence she is providing this money willingly, nor even that she feels positively about Burrows (the letters in game hinting at romance are from him). one of the plot-points is that burrows was using his former role as Royal Spymaster to blackmail nobility with secrets. so, there's just as much a chance that she was his victim. (i've heard others say this is canon but i wasn't able to find evidence for that... if you know something i am curious!)

to complete this mission low chaos/nonlethal, you either need to lure her upstairs to drug her, or strangle her, or lure her to the basement before doing either of those things.

your options are to knock out a woman who has done you no direct harm, and you have no concrete proof she's done you indirect harm, and then traffick her unconscious body to someone you have no reason to trust.

let's review:

is her fate warranted in terms of scale? we only know it's true she was giving money to burrows in hindsight (eg. second runthrough), so not really no.

is her fate poetic justice? she is sex trafficked not because she regularly kidnaps people, but because she is the woman target, and is reduced to the sexual availability that so many NPCs comment on—she is not even a specific woman, given that she is gameplay wise randomly interchangeable with her sisters.

so it's not a case of turnabout being fair play.

yes, there’s a canon ending but that’s not the point here—we’re talking about the experience of playing dh1 first run.

let's rewind to another quote from the writer above:

“[...] it's very clear that people have fucked with you in a very personal way,"

assuming that the point of each level is catharsis for the assumed player, you can read this another way:

if your entire understanding of Lady Boyle as a character is that she is an unmarried woman who is presumably sleeping with your enemy (she's referred to as "the lord regent's mistress" regularly),

and she is someone that many people want to fuck, or at least comment on her sexual activity or attractiveness,

and as the assumed player you view any of this as punishable,

then... I suppose it is poetic justice that she will be locked in some creep’s sex dungeon for the rest of her life as revenge

regardless of her lack of role in your downfall, and regardless of how willingly she aided your enemy.

contrary to poetic justice which is tailored and deserved, Lady Boyle’s fate of being handed unconscious to her stalker, is neither tailored (there was no precedent for this to happen to her - contrast with the targets who take lives), nor deserved (there’s no proof she had anything to do with corvo specifically, other than being his enemy's mistress. its debatable she was funding burrows willingly).

the purpose of a system is what it does

in a game that prioritises player choice, it is not possible to progress the game without choosing either to sex traffic Lady Boyle, or kill her.

this isn't equivalent to random bits of lore you can skip - you cannot get progress past the 5th level without making this call.

it's bad faith to argue "maybe he just locked her up and never intended to sexually assault her" within a universe that provides, unprompted, comments on this woman's body, attractiveness & sexual availability.

It is also canon. this is what corvo decided to do.

but isn’t the empire just sexist?

"when he says bring the bottles, i bring the bottles. when he says undress, I undress." - recurring maid NPC voiceline [multiple environments]

the world introduced within dh1 is sexist and sexually violent. this is valid - i include these themes in my own dishonored fics too, so the issue isn't the inclusion of these issues.

the difference here is that this is a game in which player choices are inherently about justice. rather than being a bystander trying to the right thing in a cruel world, you are an active participant in sex trafficking, and you are rewarded for this behaviour (achievements, a reward later in your room, and this contributes to the 'low chaos' ending).

this isn't corvo fighting the in-universe sexism, he's not even leveraging it --- this is corvo and therefore the player perpetuating it.

there’s no specific storyline reason to mete out a karmic punishment to lady boyle, then, well... is this cathartic to the player? given dh1's target audience, it's not a huge logical jump to say the story assumes you the player won't notice that this isn’t a deserved ending (accurately, given how few talk about this. and we've had years to talk about this). she's a sexy interchangeable woman who might be sleeping with your enemy, and there's rumours she's funding him too, and at that point ingame that's enough for her to deserve this fate. somehow.

my most generous take is that it’s lazy writing to forgo a poetic ending for a level/target.

a canonical retcon

the developers later expressed regret about this (see below harvey smith tweet).

presumably to address that "corvo is canonically a sex trafficker" thing, they added a storyline to a supplementary book which demonstrates that Lady Boyle was able to manipulate their way out of being kidnapped by her stalker.

imo this doesn't help:

this information is not in the game - almost no players will know of this (consider the # of book sales vs # of videogame sales). in writing, if it’s important, it will be both in the story and clear to the audience.

It reinforces myths that victims of sexual violence are deserving, or are lying/exaggerating etc. “you lived so why are you complaining?” and/or "well she was a manipulative bitch in the end so she deserved it all along”

gritty 'realism'

“its realistic because women are raped and stalked every day”

hiram burrows has cctv.

people love realism while the power fantasy caters to them. part of the power fantasy of corvo attano as a character is how the women in-game treat you (cecelia trusting you, emily being adoring/attentive/learning from you, esma boyle & lydia etc wanting to fuck you, piero talking to you/begging as though you're the arbiter of callista's honor in the bath scene, and saving countless NPC women). and this level, this target, is part of the power fantasy.

the thing about narratively punishing characters for being women, or having the wrong skin colour etc—is that, when you defend those writing choices by saying its realistic within the context of a fantasy game, you’re saying that inequality and the structural violence supporting it is inevitable, even when everything is made up.

additionally, it's gatekeeping: you're saying that escapist power fantasies are only for certain people. comparing “poetic endings”, there is a massive difference between the real-life statistical likelihood of, for example:

“put to work in your own slave mines,”

“getting kidnapped by a stalker.”

in my experience, people invoking ‘realism’ as a defense of their favourite media don’t want to discuss the ‘realistic’ things — more often, they want the people for whom their ‘realism in fantasy’ is reality to shut up so they can go back to enjoying their gritty fantasy, with other people's lives as wallpaper.

but pres i like this game

me too.

on that note, thanks for reading this far - its natural to resist analyses that critiques something you like. its easier and more comforting to shrug and say everything was justified.

as genius as many elements of dishonored 1 is, it is still a game for young men made in 2012... which isn't an excuse, just a reason. dh1 had every opportunity to not slip into this type of lazy writing - there's no particular reason to handle lady boyle & this mission this way as its not even satisfying at a player/audience level.

this isn't one miss-step, this is multiple miss-steps, and is less commentary on in-story/in-universe sexism, but more just regular sexism on the side of the devs, which is in turn excused at an audience level.

by working out what a game did well or poorly, we can learn how to do better in narrative design. we can also learn to identify similar plot shortcomings in other media.

and, from my perspective - it's another little contradiction to sit with in the things we enjoy. ah, dishonored, you beautiful ugly perfect fallible game.

talking about it

it's important to talk about this storyline.

don’t use the main fandom tags to criticise people who find this storyline shitty. it's weird. even if you don’t care about extending base-level empathy to people who have survived sex trafficking and rape/assault, it’s also citationless behaviour: the devs said lady boyle's fate was a miss-step.

part of why this is rarely talked about is - well, it’s hard. its emotionally difficult to talk about sincerely, and its even more rare to find an audience who will listen.

as a person who has survived similar violence, i feel like i need to write an 2,000 word essay with citations to prove that the only female villain in this game is treated in a way that isn’t justified in a doylist sense, nor in a watsonian sense. and honestly? that's not great.

citations:

1 - Dh demographics targeting (pdf) 2 - Quote source 3 - Dev interview & (4) article with dev quotes

[mrmeepsmadmind]

i love when ppl draw bumblebee like the happy little creachure he is but also i love when people draw bumblebee like he's had 500 beers in the last 1 hour and still the pain won't even ebb

[enemywasp]

I HATE tiktok and the Internet in general rn for the obsession with "oh this person's smellyyy" "Brother it STINKS over here" "BOO 💧🧼🧽🚿" and stuff like that. I wish I could put into words how demeaning and patronising that whole idea is and people implying anyone they don't like doesn't wash.

For one there's something grating about being insulted in a manner like we're in nursery again. But also WHY is that the go to insult. Why do you associate these things? Especially to those you deem "chronically online". Like I don't want to sound pathetic but it feels so nasty to me.

is it extreme to say this feels tied to ableism? And classism too?

[just-some-random-blogger]

OK. WE have to start with the fact that your summary is 🫵THAT🫵 WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT I THOUGHT I WAS HERE FOR CUTE FUN TIMES WITH CREGAN WHAT IS HAPPENING WHY IS HE IN LOVE WITH SOMEONE ELSE HELLO??????

YOU CRUMPLE THE letter in your fist, hearing the parchment wrinkle with a satisfying sound. Then, you throw it into the flames, watching as the fire grows slightly bigger, and the ball uncurls, alight for a second, before it is fully consumed.

..... I'm not gonna lie to you... I don't remember what I meant to say ...... I THINK ITS JUST ME PANICKING THAT WERE STARTING OFF LIKE THIS WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SIT CRISTI WHERES THE FUN TIMES NO IM SCARED

You had not realized you had started to measure time like this. Before and After Luke’s death, as people did with Before and After the Conquest.

Horrible reality but beautifully put my gosh I just ate chocolate pudding or something YUMMM

Whatever he is doing, hunched over his desk, is interrupted. “You cannot do this to me! Mother will not allow it.”

PFFFT IM SO SORRY HUNCHED OVER HAS ME GAGGED IDC IDC IF IM WASTING MY MEME REACTIONS ON THIS BUT ITS GIVING VERY MUCH THE POSTURE MEME

EXPECTATION VS REALITY

Also I get it now. I get why we're starting like this damn I was scared you made cregan into a cheater

But grief has made you into live lighting, ready to strike at the slightest provocation.

UGHHHHHH WHAT THE HECK THIS IS SO BEAUTIFUL I KEEP SAYING IMMA STEAL YOUR WORDS BECAUSE DAMN BUT ALAS I CANT REMEMBER TO DO IT COS IM NOT BUILT LIKE THAT WTFFFFF

“He has put a wife in the grave already.”

🧍‍♀️ OH. OK. I GET IT NOW FR FR

[...] You know the dangers of childbirth. Perhaps even better than I.”

😀 I love how he thinks this would comfort her

You hated being second in anything.

❤️‍🩹 I felt that

Being a twin meant having to share everything, including the love of those around you.

THEYRE TWINS? I FEEL LIKE I DIDNT COPY IT BUT RHAENA AND BAELA ARE TWINS TOO???? WHATTTT IM GAGGED I FEEL LIKE IM ALWAYS FINDING OUT PPL ARE TWINS IN YOUR FICS

When you married, you had hoped to be the only woman in your husband’s life, not to be compared to a ghost. You had seen exactly how that went. King Viserys had never forgotten his first wife, [...]

This is the part where we say together 🗣️FUCK🗣️YOU🗣️VISERYS🗣️ AND YAH IDK IF I COPIED IT OR NOT BUT THE PART WHERE YOU SAID HE CHOSE ALICENT MARRIED HER OUT OF LOVE 🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕 THATS WHY YOU ROTTED WHILE STILL ALIVE FUCK YOU IM SPITTING AT YOUR GRAVE

“You said you were afraid of childbirth, and he already has an heir. There is no better solution.”

CAN HE SHUT THE FUCK UP

As Jace prepares a scathing comeback, face scrunched up in mirrored displeasure to your own, [...]

They're so siblings™

“Why can the whole castle hear your quarrel?”

🤣🤣🤣 LIKE I SAID SO SIBLINGS

“My fault?!” He says, placing his hands on his hips. “Apologies, I think they didn’t hear your screeching about Lord Stark in Driftmark!”

NEJDJKDJ LOL THEYRE SO SIBLINGGGS ME TO MY SISTER

“I did. I think it is for the best. You will be safer next to Cregan Stark, in Winterfell, than you could ever be here.”

I HATE HER

[...] her mind is already made.

I understand her. I hate her

“You did because I have no dragon. I bet you are scheming to send Rhaena away too!”

💔💔💔💔💔 she knows her all too well

“I had to find out from a letter from fucking Cregan Stark. I am not leaving. You cannot make me. ”

I HATE THAT FOR HER. 🫵SAY🫵IT🫵TO🫵 MY 🫵FACE🫵

“Listen to me!” She says, shaking you hard. Tears begin to fall from her eyes, but she doesn’t seem to register them. “Listen to me! Luke is dead. He is dead, and you will obey me because I cannot bear to lose any more of my children. You are going North. Your Queen commands it.”

I understand her 💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️😞😞😞😞😞 I hate her

He didn’t care if he appeared too eager, his usual stoicism was failing him in the face of his nerves.

GOLDEN RETRIEVER HUSBAND IM SO CONFUSED???? THIS GOT ME GIGGLING EVEN THO I WAS LIKE WHY HE EXCITED (spoiler he wasn't)

[...] playing Come-into-my-castle and Bears-and-maids. Cregan had unfortunately been the maid many more times than he preferred.

A naive little princess would never survive in the North.

??????????????? OH OK I GET IT BUT HELLO YOU HAVENT EVEN MET HER???

The Lady of Winterfell couldn’t be some frail little thing, she had to be strong. Strong enough to hold Winterfell in his absence if needed, were the threat from beyond the Wall come to pass.

YoU HAVENT EVEN MET HER MY BROTHER IN CHRIST CHILL

If he had to remarry and choose a southron, Cregan would have preferred a stronger one.

To receive the toothless dragon in his home and keep it safe. A favor, from an older brother to another. The Gods knew if Sara was near war at all, Cregan would do everything in his power to send her somewhere safe. He would be forever indebted to the man who aided him to do so.

I get you but also like ???? What are you going on about you haven't met her. ASUMERA

A true alliance. A Pact of Ice and Fire, to bound their bloodlines and keep the beloved, but defenseless sister safe.

Ok cool. Nice. This was cool but I'm mildly annoyed by cregan

Jacaerys was a serious man, no matter his dubious parentage.

🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭💀💀💀💀✋✋✋✋✋ MAN REALLY SAID 🫵BASTARD🫵 AND I RESPECT HIM FOR IT AHHSHAH

Cregan had offered to have his men meet you halfway, but his letter doing so had gone unanswered.

I'm pretty sure I felt bad for him but now I think deserve

The wheelhouse and the men carried so many packages that Cregan would have known you were a Princess even without expecting you. Anyone would have known.

🤨 you have a problem with her dresses country bumpkin. So what shes a city girl. Shut yo ugly trap

You were… Pitiful. Cregan understood now why Prince Jacaerys was so desperate to protect you.

I hate that for her. I hate that men around her are like sad woman come hither 👎👎👎death by being fried alive

“She brought less of a procession than you did. And less luggage.”

BROOOOOOOOOOO HES STILL GOING

“She was. By far a more practical woman.” He smiles at you, teasingly. “But if the fuss makes you happy…”

❓❓❓❓❓❓❓ NO CUZ IM GLAD SHE FOUND THE HUMOR IN THA BECAUSE I WOULD HAE BODY SLAMMED HIM LIKE ARE YOU KIDDING ME

Your obsession with Valyrian history and traditions had been carefully nurtured by your stepfather, Daemon.

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺😫😫😫😫😫😫😫 MY MAN MY MY MAN MY MAN BEING A GOOD DAD????????? (BARE MINIMUM MOMENT)

When you had turned four and ten, Daemon had gifted you your very own book with Valyrian tales, a beautifully bound and illustrated edition that had followed you in your journey North.

“For you to read to your future children.”

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 DAEMON MAKING ME CRY AND BECOME SO SOFT AND NSNSSJMSSMMS

He had said, back then. You had barely flowered, so you had laughed. “I mean it, Princess. Out of my three girls, you are the only one I envision doing so.”

💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

Brb giving him 1000 daughters 🏃‍♀️💨💨💨

The man you had married didn’t love you. He had only done so to secure an alliance. And the man already had a child of his own, an heir.

Robbed twice is crazy. Sorrows sorrows prayers

They would have learned High Valyrian, and spoke it as beautifully as your mother and stepfather did.

🥺💔💔💔💔💔 MY LOVEEEEE

You had seen enough of your mother and Daemon to know bedding someone can be pleasing.

WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN SEEN *ROLLS MAGAZINE* GET OFF THE FUCKING FURNITURE YOU FUCKING HORN DOGS

“It is not a sin. But why would you..?” You question, but your Lord Husband is getting up already, huffing. He seems angered that you are unable to understand his message, whatever it might be. He storms off, leaving you confused over his behaviour.

❓❓❓❓❓❓ WHAT IS HIS PROBLEM SANA NAGSALITA DIBA OA AMP

I fear I fear I fear I need to boil him in oil.this was nawwwwt where I thought this was going but I am EAGERRRRRR to know what it's headed UGHHHHHH loveeeeeeeee

Autumn (Cregan Stark x Reader)

Summary: As a Princess, you aren’t used to rejection. But Cregan, your husband, has vowed to only ever love one woman, and it isn't you. Right?

Warnings: Unreliable narrator!!!! Mature language. Descriptions of grief.

A/N: I was not expecting the response my silly little idea has gotten. I am very thankful for all of you who decide to read it, and would love to hear what you think of this chapter. Series masterlist here.

YOU CRUMPLE THE letter in your fist, hearing the parchment wrinkle with a satisfying sound. Then, you throw it into the flames, watching as the fire grows slightly bigger, and the ball uncurls, alight for a second, before it is fully consumed.

It doesn’t soothe you as you thought it would. The odious parchment offering you an honor guard from your future husband might be gone, but you still have to journey North before a moon since Luke’s funeral has passed.

At the thought of your brother, a sharp, stabbing pain, manifests in your chest. You choke down a sob. You had not realized you had started to measure time like this. Before and After Luke’s death, as people did with Before and After the Conquest.

Your grief only serves to fuel your rage, though. How could he? How could he demand you be wed when you were still in mourning? When you were still thinking of your sweet brother, not of keeps, and lords, and men?

“You dare!” You screech, barging inside Jacaerys’ rooms. Whatever he is doing, hunched over his desk, is interrupted. “You cannot do this to me! Mother will not allow it.”

Jace sets down his quill. He turns to look at you, his expression calm. You would think him indifferent, were it not for the fact that there is the slightest furrow of his brows.

“We need men.” He states, simply, and when you are about to interrupt him to say there are many more in the realm, he keeps speaking. “We need his men. The North is the largest kingdom, you know this as well as I. And when a Stark calls the banners, they are the only ones who respond in full.”

Your hands ball into fists. You hate that he is acting so composed, so rational. After Luke died, you felt like a chained dragon, roaring your grief and wishing to be freed to set ablaze those that had wronged you. Once, you had been as gracious as him and mother, composed even in the height of emotion. But grief has made you into live lighting, ready to strike at the slightest provocation.

Your emotions are out of control. You know this. You get angered at the barest hint of an insult, you cry as easily as a newborn babe. Knowing it doesn’t stop you from lashing out, though. It only makes you regret it later.

“Our mother promised I was to have my pick of suitors, not that I would be sold like a cow!” You point an accusing finger to his chest. Jace sighs and gets up, surrounding the desk.

“I understand you are upset.” He tries offering you a hug, but you jerk away. His face hardens slightly. “But this is war.”

As if you do not know. As if you haven’t lost a sibling, too. Your face crumbles, and Jace calls your name, but hearing his voice, how similar Luke and him sound, only makes you cry harder.

“Hey, hey, it’s not so bad.” He hugs you, pressing your face against his doublet. The material is soft against your skin, and you feel tempted to let go of your rage against him and sink into his arms. Jace is barely a man, too, just as you are barely a woman. He is doing as best as he can, spread too thin by the weight of responsibility that comes with being heir. “Cregan is a good man. I got to know him during the time…”

Yes, he was doing as best as he could. But it hadn’t been his own hand that he had bartered away, had it? The insidious voice in your head asks. It isn’t him who is making a sacrifice. And such a hollow one. He claims to need men, but he won’t be getting even the full northern army.

“You sold me for a few Greybeards! Not even a proper army! Good Gods, you are a fool.” You cry out.

“Lord Stark assures me…” Jace starts, with the tone of someone who has already had this same argument. Were you thinking clearly, you would pause and realize why. Instead...

“He has put a wife in the grave already.” It is the only thing you know about him. Not much is whispered about Cregan Stark, at least, nothing concerning. You would remember it. The only thing that you know, though, is that he is a Stark and his wife is dead.

“You make it sound as if he killed her himself with his bare hands.” Jace scoffs. “I assure you, he dearly loved Arra Norrey and would have never harmed her. You know the dangers of childbirth. Perhaps even better than I.”

Perfect. He hadn’t killed the damn woman, he was just still in love with her. By the Seven, Jace was a fool. You hated being second in anything. Here, at home, you were already second to Jace, and you resented it. Being a twin meant having to share everything, including the love of those around you.

When you married, you had hoped to be the only woman in your husband’s life, not to be compared to a ghost. You had seen exactly how that went. King Viserys had never forgotten his first wife, calling for her years after her death, even as Alicent was the one to nurse him during his illness.

“He is still a widower.” You repeat, stubbornly.

Jace pinches the bride of his nose, before letting out a deep exhale. His next words are spoken extremely slowly, as if talking to a child. It makes you bristle.

“You said you were afraid of childbirth, and he already has an heir. There is no better solution.”

It would be thoughtful, were it not for the fact that:

“His first wife died in childbirth!”

As Jace prepares a scathing comeback, face scrunched up in mirrored displeasure to your own, the voice of your mother startles you both.

“What is going on here?” She asks, mouth pursed in an expression identical to Jace. The Queen looks as regal as ever, and it only serves to make you feel a tad embarrassed. With wild hair and eyes, face flushed from rage, you are sure that next to her, you must look like a wilding. “Why can the whole castle hear your quarrel?”

“It’s his fault.” You accuse, pointing at Jace.

“My fault?!” He says, placing his hands on his hips. “Apologies, I think they didn’t hear your screeching about Lord Stark in Driftmark!”

“So you informed her?” Your mother asks, calmly. Too calmly for someone who has just found out. Had it been her plan all along?

“Did you knew all along?” You whisper.

Rhaenyra turns to look at you. As always, your mother has a smile ready for you, but as of late, they are laced with sadness. This one is no exception.

“I did. I think it is for the best. You will be safer next to Cregan Stark, in Winterfell, than you could ever be here.”

You examine her expression. Her eyes are swollen and red rimmed, grief clouding her regal face. There is a certain determination in her features, a calm acceptance in her eyes, that tells you that her mind is already made.

Her face is not one of a distraught mother who will soon give her daughter away. You know her too well to mistake it for that.

“You hoped for this.” You keep your voice dangerously low, your anger threatening to bubble up in your throat. “You did because I have no dragon. I bet you are scheming to send Rhaena away too!”

Your mother doesn’t answer.

Her silence is damming. You turn to look at Jace, disbelieving. Of course the two of them had been scheming behind your back. Your brother had always been the closest one to your mother.

“And neither of you could tell me to my face?” You ask, letting out a hysterical laugh. “I had to find out from a letter from fucking Cregan Stark. I am not leaving. You cannot make me. ”

Suddenly, your mother grabs you by the shoulders. Her face is frightening, like an avenging goddess of Old Valyria. Her lips are curled back, teeth bared, and her eyes are as wild as yours.

“Listen to me!” She says, shaking you hard. Tears begin to fall from her eyes, but she doesn’t seem to register them. “Listen to me! Luke is dead. He is dead, and you will obey me because I cannot bear to lose any more of my children. You are going North. Your Queen commands it.”

She turns on her heel and leaves, leaving you standing on still shaking legs.

CREGAN HAD BEEN lingering near the entrance of Winterfell ever since his men had spotted the Queen’s banner on the horizon. Back then, they had expected the party to arrive in half a day. He didn’t care if he appeared too eager, his usual stoicism was failing him in the face of his nerves.

The first time Cregan had married, he had known the bride for a long time. Arra had been his childhood companion, and they had spent many moons together, playing Come-into-my-castle and Bears-and-maids. Cregan had unfortunately been the maid many more times than he preferred.

He had not feared marriage then. Spending forever chained to another person wouldn’t be so bad if that person was Arra.

Now, he did. Cregan had been content on his own, and had no desire to remarry. Even if he had, a southron princess wouldn’t have been his first choice. Though Prince Jacaerys had been honorable and dutiful, he was still naive. They were nearly of an age, but when Cregan had stood next to him, he had felt as old as his Greybeards.

A naive little princess would never survive in the North. His lords would eat her alive. The Lady of Winterfell couldn’t be some frail little thing, she had to be strong. Strong enough to hold Winterfell in his absence if needed, were the threat from beyond the Wall come to pass.

Arra had been the only woman he had thought of marrying because she had been the only woman he had thought fit to the task. She had been of the North, as he was, and it had helped him envision a future together where they ruled over the very same land that had birthed both of them.

It was only adequate that the Lady of Winterfell was a woman of the North. Southron Princesses, especially those who had been groomed to marry inside the family, could be of little help running a keep. If he had to remarry and choose a southron, Cregan would have preferred a stronger one.

Yet if wishes were dragons, beggars would soar through the skies. Prince Jacaerys had seemed a bit insulted at his offer of Greybeards, but with winter coming, it was all Cregan could spare. He was no stranger to political games, though, and knew he had to smooth down the feathers his offer had ruffled.

Hence, the offer. To receive the toothless dragon in his home and keep it safe. A favor, from an older brother to another. The Gods knew if Sara was near war at all, Cregan would do everything in his power to send her somewhere safe. He would be forever indebted to the man who aided him to do so.

And Prince Jacaerys, showing himself to be the dutiful prince and brother he was, had understood the offer for what it was. A true alliance. A Pact of Ice and Fire, to bound their bloodlines and keep the beloved, but defenseless sister safe.

It had impressed Cregan. Jacaerys was a serious man, no matter his dubious parentage. He could picture himself following him. After all, his Targaryen blood and character were the important part. That was what made him a worthy King.

Without a dragon of your own, your journey had been perilous. He knew you had ridden without banners until you had safely arrived into northern territory, a feat that had taken you a whole moon. Cregan had offered to have his men meet you halfway, but his letter doing so had gone unanswered. It had only prompted new anxieties for him.

What if he failed to fulfill his promise because you were abducted or harmed in the journey? What if the people riding with Black banners weren’t truly your honor guard, but an ambush prepared by the enemy?

Cregan doubted he would be at ease until he saw you emerge out of your wheelhouse, whole and unscathed. Hence, his waiting by the door. He would not be nervous a moment longer than he needed to.

The first thing Cregan saw was that your honor guard was smaller than he expected. He had known you would travel with a sparse escort, as to not attract undue attention. It was a miracle you had made it here with only ten guards, though. The wheelhouse and the men carried so many packages that Cregan would have known you were a Princess even without expecting you. Anyone would have known.

In contrast, the woman who stepped out of the wheelhouse wasn’t miraculous nor was she what Cregan envisioned when thinking of a Princess.

You were… Pitiful. Cregan understood now why Prince Jacaerys was so desperate to protect you. You wouldn’t survive a winter in the North, hells, it looked like a strong breeze would blow you away.

Your hair and eyes were as dark as the ones of your brother. You wore a pretty wool dress, in mourning black. The lacings on the back were done too tightly, a lot of the ribbon hanging limply, and the dress was loose around your chest and hips. It was clear you had recently lost weight, probably during the journey because the gown hadn’t been altered to fit you.

There were dark circles under your eyes, which were also red rimmed. Your skin was pale, your dark hair braided back in a severe style. Grief didn’t suit you. You looked small and sad, despite having a pleasing figure.

It didn’t help that the dress you had chosen was one far too thin for a sensible northern woman to wear. The day wasn’t even that cold, but you were already shivering. It was barely snowing, for the Gods’s sake!

Cregan approached you and gave you a bow.

“Princess.” He extended his arm to you. You took it, shivering. “I trust your journey was pleasant?”

“Pleasant enough.” At least your voice isn’t frail. The last thing Cregan needed was a soft-spoken southron lady. You even manage to smile at him, which makes you look considerably more attractive.

Cregan would admit one thing, and one thing only: Queen Rhaenyra made pretty children. Both you and Jacaerys had sinful mouths and bewitching dark eyes, though he found yours far more pleasing.

“I am sorry for your loss.” He says, as he escorts you inside Winterfell. Your trembling intensifies, instead of subsiding in the warmth of his hall. You say nothing.

When he risks a glance at your face, your eyes are suspiciously wet. You avoid meeting his eyes, even as he offers you the customary salt and bread.

“I remember when Arra got here.” Cregan offers, awkwardly. He isn’t quite sure of what to say to a grieving Princess, so he decides to share something about himself in hopes that you will open up too. He desperately needs to change the subject. Or to start a subject. He is not picky, anything that keeps you from crying will do. “She brought less of a procession than you did. And less luggage.”

“She was quite closer to home than I.” You reply, and your tone has regained strength. You no longer shake, body stiffer. Cregan decides to take it as a good sign. You are clearly struggling to get a hold of yourself, which is why you turn so tense, so he decides to keep speaking to give you some more time.

“She was. By far a more practical woman.” He smiles at you, teasingly. “But if the fuss makes you happy…”

You laugh. When he gets to know you better, Cregan will realize that your laughter wasn’t genuine.

He will also realize this had been the moment your heart iced over.

YOU PAGE THROUGH your book, in silence. Winterfell doesn’t have court musicians, and for that, you are thankful. Silence has always been your preferred companion right before bed. That, and a good book.

Your obsession with Valyrian history and traditions had been carefully nurtured by your stepfather, Daemon. Neither your mother nor siblings had much interest in your shared heritage, beyond the ability it gave them to ride dragons.

While Baela and Rhaena spoke fluid High Valyrian, the same could not be said for your brothers. As the only girl in the household, your lessons had been spent with the former and not the latter, forcing you to improve. Once you did, you had found reading the tales of old was a pleasant pastime.

You enjoyed laying in bed and imagining all the stories about magic, dragons, and empresses. When you had turned four and ten, Daemon had gifted you your very own book with Valyrian tales, a beautifully bound and illustrated edition that had followed you in your journey North.

“For you to read to your future children.” He had said, back then. You had barely flowered, so you had laughed. “I mean it, Princess. Out of my three girls, you are the only one I envision doing so.”

The day he had acknowledged you as one of his daughters, even if you didn’t share blood, was the happiest nameday you had had. He was right, too. As much as you loved the twins, you couldn’t picture them being motherly. Baela would have to have a son, to inherit after Jace, but you believed that it would be him who took charge of the more fatherly duties while she dedicated herself to statecraft. Rhaena, instead, had a thirst for adventure, to travel and know the world. Her ambition wasn’t conducive to motherhood either.

You, instead, had always dreamed of marrying a man who loved you and starting a family of your own. You envisioned yourself as the lady of a great keep, where you would rule fairly, and raise your children without wet nurses.

Those dreams had already been shattered. The man you had married didn’t love you. He had only done so to secure an alliance. And the man already had a child of his own, an heir. There was no need for you to be a mother anymore.

You turned another page of your book, watching the beautiful illustrations. You had dreamed of reading this to a little girl who looked like you, or perhaps a boy that would have looked like the man of your dreams. They would have learned High Valyrian, and spoke it as beautifully as your mother and stepfather did.

It would not come to pass. Not any longer.

A soft knock on your door makes you set down your book, closing it with great care. Then, you get up and put on your robe over your sleeping shift.

“You may enter.”

Your husband steps in, dressed for bed already. He is a handsome man, you think, biting your lower lip. Tall, dark and handsome, Cregan is the sort of man your childhood self would have pictured marrying.

He could have been the perfect man to fall in love with, were it not for the fact that he would never love you back. He already loved someone else, someone who you could never aspire to match. His first wife, Lady Arra.

As Alicent had learned, it was impossible to overshadow a ghost. Dead as she was, she could never make mistakes. He would forget all her imperfections.

She gave him a child, she was the wife he chose. The one he married for love, not duty. A practical, northern woman his bannermen had surely liked far more as a match to him than a soft southron princess who didn’t even have a dragon.

“I was wondering if you would welcome my company tonight, Princess.” Your husband says, voice emotionless. He is only here because of duty, it seems. “We could share the bed.”

“You said we could wait to consummate our union.” You keep your voice firm. It is not a task you anticipate eagerly, but you are not afraid of it either. You had seen enough of your mother and Daemon to know bedding someone can be pleasing. It is only the awkwardness of doing so with a stranger that puts you off.

“I was not referring to that.” Your husband says, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. “The nights are cold in Winterfell. Is it wrong for a man to seek closeness to his wife?”

You frown. His behavior is most puzzling. He intends to share your bed… To sleep? Your mother shared her bed with Daemon, but she also bedded him. It makes no sense to you that he wants to sleep next to you without touching you. Most marriages don’t do that. Much less if they are political matches.

“It is not a sin. But why would you..?” You question, but your Lord Husband is getting up already, huffing. He seems angered that you are unable to understand his message, whatever it might be. He storms off, leaving you confused over his behaviour.

That night, Cregan dreams of running. Of having a snout covered in blood, of jumping into the river, trying to trap a seahorse.

He never manages to. Wolves aren’t meant to hunt seahorses.

[lara60]

God's favourite punching bag

[casualavocados]

An idiot like you...an idiot like you...

KISEKI: DEAR TO ME Ep. 9

[rbtlvr]

(text from this post, fic is little kid with a big death wish by @remedyturtles)

i'm genuinely not sure where to start here - ig first of all this fic is absolutely incredible and if you somehow haven't read it yet you absolutely should!

okay. man. rem, this fic means so so much to me and i'm so glad i got to be here for it. i think this is one of those fics that'll stick with me years down the line even if one day i'm not into tmnt anymore, one i'll come back to over and over again

your writing has touched so so many people myself very much included, and i just. want to thank you so much for writing this fic and thank you for sharing it. you're an amazing writer and an amazing person and i'm lucky to know you. i can't wait to see what you do next

[deoidesign]

Btw just want to be clear that Time and Time Again is set to, and will if I don't pause, conclude in May 2025!

Webtoon didn't want to renew or give me any extra episodes so I'm trying to work with what I have. I'm sorry it's ending sooner than I'd like, it's been difficult to come to terms with and challenging to condense my plans.

You deserve a solid conclusion, and I've spent months writing to try and reach that. If there's anything you'd really like to see before it ends, do let me know in case I can (and want to) fit it in.

I'd rather not work with them again, and I hope I won't have to! But coming off of years being overworked and underpaid does not make that easy, to say the least...

I'm doing my best, and I hope you like what I have coming up.

[ganondoodle]

the company i work for decided that its switching from the german formal "You"(Sie) to the informal "you" (Du) in all of our websites so now we have to scour the entire database to change it and i quite frankly hate that, not just bc the unecessary extra work but especially bc its such a weird and unecessary change

i bet its bc everything here is getting englishfied (both literally and culturally it feels like, when my new boss talks its half in english bc every second german word is just replaced by an english one despite there being perfectly fine words for it in german too, its so annoying) and bc they want to sound more personal in hopes of getting more clients bc 'company is your fwiend uwu!!', i know this here is the amercian tm site so you wouldnt understand really but i do not want to be greeted with 'du' by companies, no, thats too personal, you dont know me and im not giving you my data, stay away!!

i guess thats how i would describe it .. the formal you is like a polite distance, like someone you dont know staying outside your personal space, but when its the informal 'you' it feels invasive unless i told you you can call me that, and that goes double for companies

maybe its a small thing that doesnt seem important but i cant stand it, im just a little part time worker doing data work so i got no say in it but the companies founder also announced hes giving his post to his kids some time ago so ...... since then theres been alot of changes and new projects that solely aim to imitate whats popular and whats done by other companies, despite ours being one that is, or used to be, intentionally different, like, that was the POINT, but i guess chasing trends is just too appealing for CEOs

[moeblob]

Happy Birthday to Ferdinand von Aegir!

I actually made 33 emotes, affectionately known as Aegirglyphics to some, for my own personal use on discord. However, I figure why not share some of them! They're free to use for discord servers/icons/pfps or whatever. However, my only request is Do NOT use them as subscriber emotes on Twitch. You can make them free follower emotes but you are not to make them locked behind a paywall.

[angelpuns]

Just another day wishing I didn't live with my parents but having to because I can barely take care of myself

[r-aindr0p]

Flamm and flames 3/?? Song : Allumer le feu - Johnny Halliday Translation : A sparkle will be sufficient - A mere nothing, a gesture - To - Light the fire

Ok so this one is more of a joke/shitpost one, the song isn't on my playlist at all but it's just an extremely iconic song by an (late) iconic rock singer for whole France. Like, the whole country knows at least the name of the singer, there's even a dedicated merch corner of him in a shop in my area (it's like cheap merch of clocks and posters with his face on it lmao) Sorry Johnny tho, never been a fan of your songs, I'm more of a Jean Jacques Goldman listener in terms of French artist/songwriter from the 80's/90's (he even wrote songs for Céline Dion)