#and its EXHAUSTING to watch tbh

[cvpidzzz]

daisuke dies.

[kowaindar0u]

//

[kingcunny]

x

[redstrewn]

I think the funniest thing is i have a feeling leander wont even end up being my favorite

[freunwol]

if you go into a guy characters tag (like. choose a guy and try your luck) youll find bucketfulls of fanart and him-centric aus and angst and thinkpieces about his character and relevance to the story and thematic weight and everything. if you go into a girls tag (once again, choose a girl, try your luck), you find her in the background of group posts and the "designated braincell" of every incorrect-quotes blog. if you're really lucky you might even find a take that doesn't make you want to projectile vomit blood!

[horrorsequel]

pissed off when my instagram algo pushes adhd influencer content to me. like i DO have adhd but im still pissed about it

[catchmewjsn]

yesterday i fell asleep at 21 and woke up 3 hours later and had to make the eggs and wash up before i went to sleep again, hoping today's going to be better and i finish things before i go to sleep

[freddiekluger]

super super fun being a trans person in australia rn having to fear for the safety of my trans friends who are able to be out on the streets protesting and organising even with covid and attending self defence collectives to protect themselves from being hate crimed more than they already have, all while doing what i can from isolation on top of dealing with the general trans disabled shit and then interacting with my cis friends who like. can't even be bothered to ask a simple how are you holding up or are you okay when literal homegrown nazis are advocating for the end of trans existence on the steps of state parliament and groups of religious fundamentalists are harassing people en masse in local queer suburbs with police protection. heaven forbid they actually try to help us in any meaningful way or even signal that they care at all

[rainingincale]

.

[corneille-moisie]

i cant wait to recieve that feliway thing, i really really hope it is gonna help storm realize that wendy is her friend and has been for freaking 3 years 🤦🏻‍♀️

its suppose to help with anxiety and i do believe thats her problem rn 😩

wendy is mostly chill, she hasnt been hissy at all the whole time, but she's still afraid of storm :( (tbh i am too sometimes 😬)

[shadyhouse]

im so insane about the mtl movie i watched it again tonight with subtitles this time and picked up on so much more im thinking so many thoughts dude

[deadsnakey]

𝐒𝐋𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍 𝐆𝐀𝐍𝐆 —> 𝐁𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐏

GENRE —> FLUFF

characters; Mattheo Riddle, Theodore Nott, Pansy Parkinson, Blaise zabini, Lorenzo Berkshire, Draco Malfoy.

You've been accepted into the friend group, the longer you're with everyone the more you build bonds with each one.

Inspired by @girllblogging777

✩ You and mattheo are definitely best friends and are the closest out of the whole group.

✩ Lorenzo sees you as a little sister and you see him as an older brother, but mattheo and you radiate the most sibling energy; you both have curly hair probably, bonus if it's also brown.

✩ You and blaise study together since the rest aren't helpful or they're just a distraction…mattheo and draco specifically. At least theo isn't too distracting even if he’s bored.

✩ chaotic, certain duos or trios are worse then others.

✩ Pansy and you always do girls night together every friday or Saturday depending if someone busy or not. masks, doing nails, crafts, make up on each other, trying products out theatre weird, movie marathon with snacks, etc. its a blast and the boys always complain because that seems so fun omg????

✩ the boys love teasing the shit out of you because they think its entertaining but will back off if they realize they're taking it too far

✩ you probably teach most of them how to correctly treat a women and things not/to say and not/to do, etc. give them a little reward for becoming gentlemen to keep motivating them. (they're dogs.)

✩ they listen to you most of the time

✩ tbh if you're studying or sum that needs a lot of focus and is serious to you, they will let you work and help as much as they can if you ask for it.

✩ they are probably really protective over you.

✩ most to lease? Mattheo, Draco, Pansy, Theodore, Lorenzo, Blaise.

✩ mattheo, Draco and Pansy is the worst of it, will fight for you.

✩ Theodore and Lorenzo are more verbally abusing someone and Blaise has a sharp tongue when he wants too, he is not afraid to be an ass to someone when it comes down to it.

✩ Lorenzo and Blaise are the nicest in the group not including you. They are still assholes but more toned down.

✩ Pansy and you team up on them allllll the time and they sometimes hate it, so they do it back to you cause they're petty little shits.

✩ when you're throwing up, they'll rush over to get your hair out of your way as quickly as possible.

✩ will try their best to comfort you if they find you crying or upset or sum. Theo and Mattheo are ones who immediately pull you into their chest to protect you; holding you firmly.

✩ they all give really good hugs, but Lorenzo's are probably the best.

✩ they make sure you're eating enough, drinking enough water, not over exhausting yourself and overall just watching over you to make sure you're taking care of yourself.

✩ if they find out you're not taking care of yourself like you should be, they will constantly be on you about it to the point it starts getting annoying.

✩ anytime y'all have classes with one another they will be pestering you asking if you drunk water today and if not, "ok, here's some water now drink, love.", like they will shove food down your throat so please just take care of yourself, its not worth the annoyance and hassle.

✩ crackheads, always getting into some shit and dragging you into it unless you don't wanna be apart of it. (though they'll beg you to agree lol.)

[keepthemacramesecret]

i am holding back on so many petty complaints abt s6-7 right now yall should b so grateful

[cregansdingdong]

ᴍᴇʀᴄʏ.

Cregan Stark x fem!reader | no use of y/n | warnings: NSFW, porn without plot, m!receiving oral, very sloppy blowjob good stuff, starts off slow but then there's some face-fucking, swearing, one *tiny* face smack (its not bad i promise), he’s gonna come in her throat for giving him attitude; yeah the gif is the perfect representation for this tbh

Hot stuff under the cut. 18+ only. I'm not responsible for the content you choose to consume. ty.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

“What was I supposed to do then? Refuse the Lord Commander?” Cregan raises a brow, head tilted up at the ceiling as his wife stood there in front of his desk, hands on her hips. “I didn’t say that, Cregan. He could’ve waited a moment rather than storm into breakfast. And for what? To report a runaway from Castle Black? He could’ve sent a raven and saved himself all the trouble. I think he just wanted a small getaway.” He barks out a laugh at her accusation. “And I think you’re spoiled. My spoiled little wife who does not like having my attention taken away.”

“And so what if I don’t?” She huffs, lips morphing into a scowl. “Especially not during meal times—you’re a busy man and breakfast is Cregan time, not Lord Stark. My time with my husband. Lord Commander Markus surely was exhausted from his journey—but the entire thing was needlessly frantic. You are not a dog he may call on the moment he prefers it.” Cregan, since the day they'd married, had been a fairly patient man. She had a southern temper, which he had to learn how to douse and maintain just as she did. That's not to say his wife wasn't capable of controlling herself—she merely didn't care how she spoke to him.

His glance is lined with warning, but she either didn't catch it or ignored it completely. He guesses the latter. “Those sorts of matters are my responsibility. Deserters must be punished by my hand, wife. That is the way of the North, which you know well by now. Refrain from comparisons.” Neither of them were backing down. “Of course that is the only thing you take away from what I'm saying.” She scoffs. “My comparison is correct. When he calls, you bark. When he arrives, you heel. Are you his Warden Wolf or his pup? Because I'm not sure I can tell the difference any—”

“Get on your knees.”

“...what?” The surprise on her face would be etched into his memory forever. “On your knees. I won’t tell you again, wife.” His voice was low in the quiet of the room; daunting, even. “Right here.” Cregan scoots his chair back from the desk, thighs spread, gray eyes unblinking as he waits. She debated walking away, but she knew better. He watched as she took a few meager steps around his desk, the hem of her gown slowly gathering on the floor. Maybe she'd pushed him too far this time. “I think you've forgotten yourself—who's wife you are.” He squeezes her chin in his large hand, pleased by her soft sound of protest. “Yes, you have.” He grunts, stopping the words from leaving her mouth. “And now, you’re going to do exactly what I tell you—when I tell you. Do you understand?”

He seemed fairly satisfied with her little nod. “Good, pup. Unlace my breeches.” His wife reaches out to fumble with the ties after only a moment, his hand releasing the grip on her flushed face. She tugs the laces with a fervor, feeling him harden under her fingertips. It didn’t take much, honestly. He murmurs something she doesn’t catch as she gently wriggles him out of the confines of his breeches, brows furrowed in concentration. “You don’t deserve my cock in your mouth yet. Kiss only. Use your tongue if you have such a lack of self-restraint. You’re good at that.” The jab was directed and shot, but the weight of him in her hand had her head spinning too fast to say anything smart in return. Her lips meet his tip with a quiet, pleased hum, her tongue dipping into the crease where his precum dribbled. 

Cregan’s reaction was immediate. “Like that…” He sighs, head tilting back, just savoring the relief. Fire thrummed in her stomach. She kisses down the underside of his cock, ignoring the tickle of the dark hair at the base of him as it brushed against her jaw.

His arms were slack on the rests, fingers twitching with every small suction of her lips on him. Kiss by kiss, he hardens fully under her hands, and lines of swears erupt from his throat like mantras. “In your mouth now, pup.” He looks down at her with hooded eyes, looking like he was trying not to smile but failing anyway. To be fair, it was Cregan. The slight quirk of his lips was upturned enough to count. She situates herself a little further between his thick thighs, resting her elbows down midway as her palms lay over his. And then she took him into her mouth.

“Fuck..” He groans, something low and sinful that brought her butterflies. It was quite the sight to see the Warden of the North melt so easily by a tongue. He wasn’t like most men sometimes—usually. This, though. He certainly was. Not much longer before he’d forget what she said to him in the first place. The thought drove her to sink deeper on him, barely able to go halfway but that was already enough to get his tip in the far end of her mouth. He curses more—although entirely unintelligible this time—and his hands lift, presumably to tangle themselves in her hair. But they don’t make it there. She might’ve been trapped there on the floor between his legs, but that didn’t mean he was going to get all that he wanted. Her nails dig hard into the back of his hands, close to the wrists, and keep them firmly planted against the armrests.

He hisses momentarily in surprise. With his thick skin, it was more likely his ego was more hurt than his hands. She bobs her head with a vengeance of her own, and he slumps in the chair with a growl, thoroughly annoyed to be held back. “I’m going…to give you…five seconds...wife. Release me.” Her nails dig harder in response, pinching the skin hard enough for him to react. Cregan’s thighs tense more under her elbows. She counted down in her mind as she was sure he was doing in his. It was absolutely worth a bit of punishment. Saliva coated his cock, the drool slithering down the underside of it enough to make it sound even more lewd. He loved it when she abandoned her manners. “Wife.” He warns again. What happened to never repeating yourself twice, husband? The thought would’ve made her laugh if it weren’t for his cock.

He bucks his hips toward her throat—on purpose, obviously—and the force of it surprises her entirely, gagging in the slightest as she loses her grip on him. His hands are snatched from under her ruthless nails, and although out of view as he clutched her cheeks together, she didn’t fail to catch the pinkish skin around the moon-shaped indentations. They would certainly leave a mark tomorrow. Cregan pushes her back from his cock, seething, and his dark eyes never leave her face. His fingers dig into her cheeks unconsciously before letting go—and as quick as they go, a warning smack makes her face turn to the side. It didn’t hurt, by any means, but it sent a thrill right down between her thighs. “If you ever hold my hands back again, I’ll fuck you so full of my seed that all of Winterfell will hear your pathetic little mewls for me to stop. Do you understand me, pup? Answer me.”

“I understand.” She relents, eyes darting from his face to his red cock, the beat of her heart following every throb of the pretty veins. His eyes narrowed at her, not entirely trusting but he’d gotten his point across. “Make me come, wife.” She didn’t need him to say another word, her lips instantly wrapping around his tip to pick up where she left off. This time, she kept her hands planted on his thighs, breathing harshly through her nose as she took more and more of his cock. Her fists clenched around his breeches tightly, her gaze flicking up at him. He was watching, panting, the last of his restraint hanging by a thread. Cregan never lasted very long in her mouth, not that either of them thought he needed to. “To the base.” He mutters, holding off the urge to fuck her throat. He wanted to see if she could do it herself first.

His wife does her best attempt three-fourths of the way—close enough for the tip of her nose to brush against the coarse hair. The feeling nearly brought him to the edge anyway, close to falling off entirely. His grunts were louder, less composed. He was getting desperate. He reaches out to grip her hair, his own strands drooping down into his line of sight. “I’m gonna come—hold your breath for me.” She does. He doesn’t waste a moment, cupping her face gently, thumbs soothing the skin of her cheeks as he starts to buck up into her mouth like he was rabid. The sound of his tip sliding almost into her throat was enough to do it. Cregan was snarling now, fucking her face with purpose as the come dribbled down her tongue and mouth. “Good girl! Good fucking girl! Taking me so well!”

Eventually, he slowed, spent and breathing heavily as she recuperated through long inhales and exhales through her nose. She was still sucking on him though, eager for every drop. Leaned back in his chair, limp like a rag doll, Cregan gave her one of his sweet, lazy smiles. “...Told you not to compare.”

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

[bumblesimagines]

‘i never thought i'd ever see you again.’

‘i never got your name.’

w/ milly’s rhaenyra and male! reader ? like maybe male reader ends up being her betrothed rather than laenor xd

Pronouns: He/Him/His

CW/TW: Typical GoT/HOTD warnings, Alicent and Viserys marriage, arranged marriage trope, not much tbh?, some lying by omission, some mentions of rhaenyra's complicated relationship with gender

Rhaenyra's veins buzzed with anger, irritation, and exhaustion, the reins tightly gripped in her hands leaving imprints along her palms as she rode through the forest. The wind lashed at her face, her silver hair whipping behind her; the closest thing she could get to mimicking the feeling of flying with Syrax. Her father's words echoed in her mind, reminding her she'd never be the son he always longed for. Always just the princess, always just the daughter meant to marry some noble arse and have a million of his babies, even as the heir to the throne. 

A furious groan escaped her lips, her eyes beginning to sting with tears. She rapidly blinked them away at the sight of another person up ahead by the lake and tugged on the reins, bringing the horse's speed down to a trot. Her chest heaved with pants and her hair had no doubt lost the pristine style her handmaidens had brushed it into, the bright color of it being the only telling part of her royal blood. The stranger crouched by the lake looked over his shoulder at her and stood, wiping his dripping hands on his pants. 

"Princess Rhaenyra," He bent at the waist in a bow, his boots leaving prints in the mud as he approached his grazing horse. He wrapped his hands around the reins and swept his eyes over her, his lips curling playfully. "Which fool has upset the heir of the Iron Throne so soon into the day?" 

Rhaenyra released a dry, breathless laugh. "My father." She answered, half-expecting him to trip over himself to take his words back but he hummed and nodded, heaving himself up on the saddle of his horse. The horse huffed softly and raised its head, chewing on the last bits of grass in its mouth.

"Fathers make the worst fools." He said, gently tugging on the reins in her direction, the calmness in his demeanor reminding her of her uncle in a way. There he stood in the presence of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen and he seemed as if he were speaking to an old friend. Rhaenyra relaxed at that, used to most trying to suck up to her or being intimidated by her titles, but she couldn't help eyeing him with a hint of suspicion.

His clothes lacked any specific coloring symbolizing one of the Great Houses for they were mostly brown and akin to what the smallfolk typically wore but even the most confident of peasant men were prone to stuttering or stumbling over themselves. The stranger simply smiled at her, dipping his head as his horse walked past her and back into the forest.

"I never got your name," Rhaenyra called, pulling on the reins and pressing her heels into her horse's sides. The horse complied and moved after him swiftly, slowing down once they were walking side by side on the small natural trail leading back to the Royal camp. With a better look at him, Rhaenyra had to admit he was handsome, especially with the mystery surrounding him. 

"Surely my name is unimportant to a lady such as yourself, Princess." He spoke with a hint of a playful tone, his head tilted back to watch the birds fluttering about overhead.

Rhaenyra hummed quietly and looked forward once again, dread beginning to bubble up in her stomach. She'd made a bit of an outburst after her and King Viserys's little spat in the main tent, and she hardly had the patience or desire to face her father or the other nobles who'd witnessed it. "You claim fathers make the worst fools." She glanced at him. "What makes yours a fool?"

"He's stubborn, as most old men are." He sighed. "He never allows his mind to shift from his opinions, even if it may cost his family. Though, I suppose when my mother is the one making the actual decisions, he desires to show his fellow men he's in charge."

"I'd like to meet your mother." Rhaenyra chuckled softly, the words repeating in her mind and making her throat tighten with intense longing. Nothing would ever be able to replace the immense gaping hole in her heart left behind by her mother's passing and her father's decisions afterward. The vultures circled and circled until her body had been reduced to ash before they swooped down to peck at the leftovers. Otto... Alicent. 

Rhaenyra inhaled deeply through her nose and plastered on a polite yet fake smile, turning to look at him once more. (Y/N) finally dropped his attention away from the sky and turned toward the princess, arching a questioning brow upon noticing the look on her face. "What is it, Princess? We must make haste if we wish to return to camp before nightfall." 

She groaned. "I do not wish to return to camp. I... I wish I were someone else, frankly.. someone nobody would be able to sell off to some fancy man like a mare and made to live the endless cycle of falling pregnant and producing child after child until my husband is content. I am a princess and the heir to the throne yet- yet I am treated no better than your common lady." 

"Us men do have more freedom, though I am afraid you'd be forced to marry regardless of being of either sex, Princess. It is what's expected of the highborn folk." He shrugged lightly, glancing over the branches above and scanning the sky for the position of the sun. "I suppose we may ride through the forest for a while longer but if anyone were to search for us, they'd be... far from thrilled seeing us unchaperoned and alone together. They may even have us wed." He winked playfully.

"Is that not what lowborns dream of? Marrying royalty?"

"Aye, some do. There's many a tale of beautiful lowborn daughters being swept away by a handsome dashing knight. You cannot fault the imagination of the desperate." He spoke and tugged gently at his reins, directing his horse off the path and further into the Kingswood. Rhaenyra followed, pleased to hear the bustle and chatter of camp drift further and further away. 

"Where are you from, man with no name? A distant land?" She questioned teasingly, taking note of the way her thighs began to ache. It'd been too long since she last took to a saddle, she realized. Rhaenyra would remedy that quickly when she returned home. The stranger laughed softly, a pleasant-sounding thing, and gave her a grin. 

"If consider The Reach a distant land, then yes." He responded.

Commonly known for being the home of chivalry and where knighthood was greatly esteemed by its residents, the Reach was perhaps one of the wealthiest regions in all of Westeros. Rhaenyra had heard plenty of it from Alicent back when they exchanged more than forced pleasantries. Her former friend oft' spoke of showing her around Oldtown, the home of House Hightower and the most notable city in the Reach. There were many houses, many places her newfound friend would live and work near. She tried recalling all the houses from the Reach that'd attended the hunt.

"And whom may your lord be? Lord Hightower?" 

"Lord Tyrell." He answered. "He believes I am too young to not be wed with children by now. He is a kind man, if not perhaps rather daft at times. I'm fond of him, truly, even when he becomes aggravating."

"It's rather surprising to hear you are close with Lord Tyrell." Rhaenyra's brows raised. Sure, plenty of lords and ladies favored the servants who took care of them frequently, but they hardly ever got close enough with them to speak so freely.

"Oh," He chuckled. "He's known me since I was a babe."

By the time night fell, they'd strolled through part of the Kingswood in avid conversation, only putting an end to their riding when it was deemed better to collect some wood for a fire. Rhaenyra leaned back against a fallen log and listened to the comforting sound of fire crackling, the embers rising and spinning through the air with each delicate breeze that swept by. She watched them dance with the breeze while her thoughts drifted elsewhere, to what life may have been if she'd been born as her father's desired prince. 

"You should sleep, Princess." The Tyrell boy spoke from his spot beside her, his arm perched up on the log and hoisting up his head. His eyes remained closed but his body seemed alert, fingers twitching with each distant crunch or animal cry. "We'll rise with the sun and return to camp lest anyone realize you spent the night away with a stranger. I'd rather remain off King Viserys radar."

"Is that so? What if I wish to tell my father of how I met an odd man out in the woods? That'll surely garner his attention." Rhaenyra giggled softly and turned to look at him, watching the corner of his lips twitch upward. 

"It certainly would, Princess." He murmured and lifted his head, gently rubbing his knuckle over his eye and glancing over the dark woods around them. The fire illuminated his face in a warm, near-golden glow. Rhaenyra thought of her father's insistence that she wed someone, anyone. What would he do, she wondered, if she told him of a lowborn she liked? 

"You never told me your name."

"It is of little importance, as I said. You will return home to King's Landing soon and all this will become a distant memory in days to come." His eyes slid over to her, and she hummed quietly, her lips parting to insist otherwise but she knew the life of court would sweep her up and she'd only recall him late at night when her thoughts stopped running. "Sleep."

"I do not plan on forgetting you." She told him in a surge of confidence and some rebellion, planting her hand on the forest floor beneath them and leaning forward to press their lips together. Not her first time kissing someone, for she and Alicent had exchanged curious kisses during their youth but her body nonetheless tingled with excitement. 

"Princess," He sighed but she placed her other hand on his cheek before he could draw back and scold her on whichever societal rule they broke. "You-"

Rhaenyra tilted her head back slightly, swiping her tongue over her lips and giving him a small smile. "I wish to be free for a moment. Will you help me?" She asked softly, staring into his (E/C) eyes hopefully, otherwise it'd be a rather awkward night. 

"Whatever the princess's desires."

The time had finally arrived when her father had grown tired and displeased with the lack of progress in their combined search for a suitable husband. He'd strongly considered Laenor Velaryon in hopes of mending what'd been broken when he chose Alicent over Laena, but the rumors of the young Velaryon preferring boys over girls reached King Viserys ears fast enough for him to change his mind and choose another strong contender. 

"I believe you'll be quite content with Highgarden, Rhaenyra," Alicent spoke softly, her words directed at her but eyes distant as she bounced little Helaena in her arms. Her handmaiden remained silent as she attempted to wrangle a wiggling Aegon and Rhaenyra could only grimace at the struggle. "It is.. a beautiful place. My mother was friends with Lady Tyrell in her youth and oft' spoke of the beauty of it." 

"I see." Rhaenyra sighed. "I am.. certain it is as lovely as you claim. But I will reside in King's Landing, as it is my duty as heir, is it not?" She lifted her brows at her father.

King Viserys sighed deeply and opened his mouth to speak but the carriage lurched to a stop and their names were called into the air, signaling their arrival at the seat of House Tyrell. Rhaenyra inhaled through her nose and held it to calm the irritation simmering in her veins, reminding herself there was a chance at seeing the mysterious stranger from Kingswood. Her legs shifted under the skirt of her beige-colored dress, thighs pressing together as she felt the ghost of his lips roaming over her shoulders and the touch of his hands when they cupped her face. 

"The Princess and heir to the Iron Throne, Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen!"

Rhaenyra gathered her skirt in her hands and stood up from the cushioned seat, moving toward the door and carefully stepping down. Her eyes first wandered over the large white stone castle surrounded and protected by three rings of stone walls. Many of the outer walls were covered by sparse greenery, from ivy vines to beautiful roses. She could hear the delicate sound of a harp playing coming from the open doors leading into the castle. Everything felt... calming in Highgarden. 

"King Viserys," Lord Tyrell greeted eagerly, bowing as far as his frail bones allowed him to while his wife gave a short curtsy and regarded them with an air of coolness. Rhaenyra liked her already. Lifting his arms and offering a pleasant smile, Lord Tyrell said, "Welcome to Highgarden. It is an honor to host our King, Queen, and Princess."

"What a beautiful home you have." Alicent complimented, her elbow subtly bumping into Rhaenyra's arm. 

"Yes," Rhaenyra nodded and Lord Tyrell's features brightened with the praise. "It is... incredibly soothing being here already."

"You flatter us with your praise, My Queen, My Princess." Lady Tyrell offered a polite smile, her hand rubbing along the subtle bump in her belly, soaking in Rhaenyra with her eyes before she turned sideways and nodded up the flight of stairs for someone else to join them. "And we are incredibly flattered you answered our proposal. May I introduce my son, Ser (Y/N) Tyrell."

Rhaenyra's gaze flickered away and her eyes widened into near saucers. The stranger from the Kingswood grinned mischievously back at her, no longer clad in dirty clothes and instead in dark green with the sigil of House Tyrell. (Y/N) Tyrell... what a sneaky bastard, he was. Rhaenyra clamped her teeth into her bottom lip and forced herself to be silent under the watchful eyes of everyone around them. Her heart fluttered, a million questions and playful complaints flying through her mind.

"King Viserys, Queen Alicent," (Y/N) bowed in greeting to the two, a fond smile gracing his lips when he gazed upon her half-siblings before a playful twinkle appeared in his eyes once he turned to her. He scooped her hand into his and raised it up to his face, brushing his lips over her knuckles. "Princess Rhaenyra, what an honor to finally meet you." Rhaenyra finally smiled. 

"Now with the pleasantries aside, we've hosted a feast in honor of your arrival and this beautiful betrothal." Lord Tyrell said and eagerly beckoned them within the castle as servants swiftly took their belongings into the castle and to their temporary bedchambers. Her father and Alicent followed, the two men chatting blissfully and sharing laughter while their wives walked idly side by side. 

"Would you like a tour of the gardens? They're in full bloom this time of year." (Y/N) offered her his arm and she took it, giving a nod and allowing him to guide her into the castle where the sound of the harp grew closer and louder, the gentle music filling the bright halls. 

"I never thought I'd ever see you again," Rhaenyra admitted, gazing over the light-colored walls. Everything in Highgarden seemed bright and warm, especially welcoming and calming. The Red Keep oft' felt dreary and cold but Highgarden seemed vibrant with life and more open with large windows allowing the light to pour in. "Why did you keep this hidden? I would not have cared if you were a noble."

"I never said I was a lowborn, Princess. You assumed I was." (Y/N) reminded her lightly, guiding her down a flight of stairs and into a large vibrant garden with a gorgeous fountain in the middle spouting water in a continuous flow. He plucked a bright red rose from a bush and offered it to her. "It appears the Gods had plans for us regardless, though."

Chuckling, Rhaenyra took the rose. "It appears so."

[centrally-unplanned]

I watched a Todd in the Shadows video on Madonna's post-9/11 flop album American Life recently, where she tried to be this political, anti-war artist but instead she wrote this anodyne, "consumerism is icky", navel-gazing nothing song. Imagine writing lyrics like this:

I'm drinking a soy latte, I get a double shoté It goes right through my body, and you know I'm satisfied I drive my Mini Cooper and I'm feeling super-duper Yo, they tell I'm a trooper, and you know I'm satisfied

And setting it to a music video of you in military fatigues dancing to footage of war crimes and thinking, yeah, that is gonna work! She rapped the above by the way? The 90's cast a long shadow.

Anyway that is why I now call this the "Madonna Critique":

What is the alternative you are proposing to iced lattes, and why would I care? If I drink premiere microbrews does my drink choice give my life meaning suddenly? In whatever fantasy ethno-religious utopia you are envisioning as the foil to this, people will still jog, still buy food, still live in housing, and still work jobs. Quite commonly from a laptop.

They do this rhetorical aesthetic thing of listing objects in sequence that share an affect (in this case, shallow consumerism/"bullshit jobs") and just hope the length of the list makes it seem, in its exhaustiveness, like it must be the totality of their existence. Which is silly, in between the lattes people are reading classic novels, going to church, connecting with friends, fucking their partners in those condo bedrooms. Not anyone on Tumblr, obviously, but others are. A world without lattes sounds pretty shitty tbh, there is no point here beyond the aesthetic.

Which is obvious, I know, sometimes we rant about the petty stuff here!