#and veers and his wife my beloveds

[accidental-spice]

An image of himself and Myra taken by Piett. She was on the sand and he was on a log behind her, his wife leaning on his knees in her old design school sweater. She once again managed to look just as stunning in this as she did in jewels and formal dress.

This is an illustration from chapter 23 of Brothers in Arms, by the talented @musewrangler . I've had it in my head for SO long, and after my latest reread, I finally drew it!!

If any of you have ever wanted a couple morally upright emotional support background Imperials, check this fic, and really ANYTHING by this author, out!! I HIGHLY recommend

[novaursa]

The Second Daughter (stone by stone)

- Summary: You were born as a second daughter under the watchful eye of a full moon. And just like the moon you were beautiful—and cursed to exist only in the dark.

- Pairing: targ!reader/Jason Lannister

- Rating: Explicit 18+ (adult themes)

- Previous part: herald's gifts

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @oxymakestheworldgoround @l3thal-l0lita @ninihrtss @barnes70stark

The meeting was held in a smaller chamber of Casterly Rock, its walls lined with tapestries depicting the victories of House Lannister. A long wooden table stretched the length of the room, with maps, documents, and records meticulously arranged for review. Jason Lannister sat at the head of the table, his posture commanding, his green eyes focused as he glanced over the assembled men. To his right was Maester Halford, quill and parchment in hand to record the proceedings. To his left sat Ser Alester Lannister, his demeanor casual but watchful.

Across the table sat Lord Allard Reyne, clad in a fine crimson doublet adorned with the sigil of his house: the red lion rampant. He lounged in his chair, his expression one of barely veiled smugness as he traced a finger along the edge of the map before him. Beside him was a scribe, a young man with ink-stained fingers and an air of nervous energy.

The tension in the room was visible, a silent undercurrent that simmered beneath the surface as the investigation into the disputed mines continued. Jason had already presented his findings, the impartial witness—Maester Halford—verifying the accuracy of the records. But Allard had proven adept at prolonging the discussion, his comments veering off course more than once.

“And, of course,” Allard said now, leaning back in his chair, “it’s important to consider not just the immediate yields of these mines, but the long-term impact on both our houses. After all, alliances are built on mutual benefit, are they not?”

Jason’s lips thinned, his patience wearing visibly thin. “The evidence is clear, Allard,” he said, his tone clipped. “The mines fall squarely within Lannister lands. Any suggestion otherwise is baseless.”

Allard smirked, clearly enjoying the opportunity to needle Jason further. “Baseless? I wouldn’t go that far. But no matter,” he added, waving a dismissive hand. “I’ve more important things to concern myself with these days.”

Jason raised an eyebrow, his expression unimpressed. “Such as?”

Allard’s grin widened, and he straightened in his chair, as though preparing to deliver a grand announcement. “I am to be married,” he said, his tone self-satisfied. “My bride may not be a beloved princess of the realm, but she is a lady of considerable standing in the Westerlands. An advantageous match, I dare say.”

Jason leaned back slightly, his gaze steady and cold. “Congratulations,” he said flatly, the word devoid of warmth.

Allard, undeterred, continued, “She’s the daughter of Lord Harwyn Lefford. A fine woman, with a strong lineage. Our union will strengthen ties between our houses and solidify my position in the region. And you, Jason? Surely you must know the satisfaction of such a match.”

Jason’s jaw tightened, his irritation evident, but he allowed a slow, deliberate smile to form. “I do,” he said, his voice steady but laced with quiet pride. “Though I suspect our situations are quite different.”

Allard tilted his head, his curiosity piqued. “Oh?”

Jason gestured toward the open window that overlooked the cliffs. “While you speak of solidifying your position, my wife has already ensured mine. A Targaryen princess—a woman of grace, wisdom, and strength. A dragonrider, no less.”

Allard’s smirk faltered slightly, but he masked it quickly. “Ah, yes. Princess Y/N. A fine match indeed. And Silverwing… a magnificent beast, I’m sure.”

Jason’s smile widened, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “Magnificent doesn’t even begin to describe her. She’s sunbathing on the cliffs as we speak. Have you seen her, Allard? The sight of a dragon resting in the sun, her wings spread, her scales glinting like molten silver—it’s something to behold. A reminder of the power and legacy my wife brings to our house.”

The mention of Silverwing seemed to unsettle Allard, though he masked it with a chuckle. “A dragon is impressive, I’ll admit. But dragons don’t dig mines or make deals, Jason.”

Jason leaned forward, his voice dropping to a calm, dangerous tone. “No, they don’t. But they do remind men of what happens when they overstep their bounds.”

The room fell silent, the weight of Jason’s words settling heavily over the table. Even Maester Halford paused in his note-taking, his quill hovering over the parchment.

Allard cleared his throat, his bravado slipping for just a moment. “Well,” he said, forcing a smile. “It seems we’ve covered all there is to discuss today. I trust your maester will see to it that the records are properly maintained.”

Jason’s gaze didn’t waver. “Oh, you can be sure of that, Allard.”

The meeting ended shortly after, with Allard departing in a flurry of polite words and thinly veiled annoyance. As the door closed behind him, Ser Alester let out a low chuckle, shaking his head.

“You certainly know how to put a man in his place, cousin,” he said, clapping Jason on the shoulder.

Jason exhaled, his expression softening as he turned back to the table. “It’s not about putting him in his place,” he said. “It’s about reminding him that Casterly Rock stands firm—and so do I.”

The nursery was quiet, bathed in the soft glow of the afternoon sun filtering through the high, arched windows. The faint scent of lavender lingered in the air, a comforting presence in the newly finished room. You stood in the center of it, cradling the finished embroidery in your hands—a delicate blanket adorned with a golden lion and a silver dragon intertwined, their tails curling into an ornate border. Every stitch had been made with care, and as your fingers traced the design, you felt a deep sense of accomplishment and love for the child growing within you.

Guiding yourself slowly, your fingertips brushed along the edge of the crib. It was sturdy, carved from the finest oak, with the sigils of House Lannister and House Targaryen etched into its sides. You placed the blanket inside with reverence, smoothing it gently before stepping back. A small smile graced your lips as you imagined the day your baby would rest there, wrapped in the warmth of the love you had sewn into every thread.

The soft crackle of embers in the hearth drew your attention next. The dragon egg Daemon had sent rested in a small iron cradle, nestled close to the fire's warmth. Its shimmering surface of silver and gold reflected the flickering flames, creating an almost ethereal glow. The sight of it filled you with a mix of wonder and curiosity.

Carefully, you made your way to the hearth, your hands trailing lightly along the edge of the table as a guide. The warmth of the fire grew stronger as you knelt beside it, one hand reaching out to stoke the embers with a poker. The gentle heat brushed against your face, and you felt the comforting weight of the egg nearby.

"Princess!" Alys’s voice rang out from the doorway, her tone sharp with alarm. Footsteps hurried across the room, and you felt her hands on your arm as she gently pulled you back. “My lady, please! So close to the hearth—you could have burned yourself!”

You turned your face toward her, a calm smile on your lips. “There’s no need for alarm, Alys,” you said softly. “I was careful.”

Alys frowned, her concern evident as she guided you a step away from the fire. “Careful or not, my lady, it makes my heart race to see you near the flames. Especially now, with the baby.”

You chuckled lightly, placing a reassuring hand on hers. “The fire won’t harm me. I only meant to tend the embers—to keep the egg warm.”

Alys glanced toward the egg, her brow furrowing. “Do you truly think it will hatch?” she asked hesitantly. “I’ve heard tales of dragon eggs that never stir, lying dormant for centuries.”

You tilted your head, considering her words. “Perhaps,” you said thoughtfully. “But there’s always hope. And if there’s one thing my family has taught me, it’s that dragons are full of surprises.”

Alys remained silent for a moment, her gaze lingering on the egg. “It’s beautiful,” she murmured. “Even if it doesn’t hatch, it’s a treasure unlike any other.”

You smiled, your hand lightly brushing over the cradle where the egg rested. “It’s more than a treasure, Alys. It’s a symbol—a reminder of where I come from. And a gift for the child who will carry that legacy forward.”

Alys nodded, her expression softening. “You’re right, my lady. It is a part of your family, just as much as it is of you.”

The two of you stood there for a moment, the quiet crackle of the fire filling the room. Finally, Alys stepped back, her tone lighter. “But next time, please call for me if you want the embers tended. I’ll not have you singeing your skirts.”

You laughed softly, the sound warm. “Very well, Alys. I’ll leave the embers to you.”

As she moved to tidy the room, you lingered by the hearth, one hand resting lightly on the iron cradle. The egg’s warmth seeped into your palm, and for a brief moment, you could almost feel a faint pulse beneath the smooth surface—an echo of something alive, waiting. Whether it was your imagination or something more, you couldn’t say. But the hope that stirred in your heart was enough.

The wind howled faintly across the battlements of Casterly Rock as Jason Lannister stood with Ser Alester, gazing out over the rolling waves of the Sunset Sea. The golden light of the setting sun bathed the towering fortress in warm hues, highlighting the intricate carvings of lions and other Lannister heraldry that adorned its walls. Jason’s eyes swept over the ancient stonework, his expression thoughtful as he gestured to the masons gathered nearby.

“Here,” he said, pointing to the eastern wall overlooking the main gate. “And there, on the western towers. I want them placed prominently, where every visitor and bannerman can see them.”

The master mason, a grizzled man with calloused hands and a calculating gaze, nodded. “Aye, my lord. But just to confirm, you want dragons—proper Valyrian beasts—carved into the stone?”

Jason turned, his expression resolute. “Yes. Majestic, powerful, wings spread wide. They must look as though they belong here, as much a part of the Rock as the lions themselves.”

Behind him, Ser Alester Lannister raised an eyebrow, his arms crossed loosely over his chest. “Dragons on the battlements of Casterly Rock?” he asked, his tone equal parts amusement and disbelief. “Forgive me, cousin, but why would you alter the aesthetic of our ancestral home? The lions have stood watch for centuries.”

Jason turned to face him, his gaze calm but firm. “I’m not altering anything, Alester. I’m adding to it.”

“Adding dragons,” Alester repeated, his smirk widening. “And here I thought lions didn’t share their dens.”

Jason stepped closer, his voice steady and measured. “Lions don’t share their dens, but they do recognize strength. These dragons are not a replacement for our history, Alester—they’re a reminder of the bloodline that is about to join it. My wife is a Targaryen. My child will carry the blood of both lion and dragon. It’s only fitting that the Rock reflects that.”

Alester studied him for a moment, his grin fading slightly as he considered Jason’s words. “So this is about legacy,” he said, his tone more serious now. “You want everyone who sees these walls to know the future of House Lannister.”

Jason nodded, his green eyes gleaming with determination. “Exactly. These carvings will stand as a testament to the union of our houses. They’ll remind every vassal, every visitor, and every enemy that the strength of House Lannister now carries the fire of Valyria as well.”

The wind tugged at Alester’s cloak as he glanced toward the masons, who were already sketching preliminary designs into their ledgers. “It’s bold,” he admitted, a faint smile returning to his lips. “And it will certainly give the Reynes and the other lords something to talk about.”

Jason allowed himself a small smile. “Let them talk. The more they dwell on it, the more they’ll understand what it means.”

The master mason stepped forward, holding up a rough sketch of a dragon, its wings unfurled and its claws outstretched. “Like this, my lord?”

Jason studied the drawing for a moment before nodding. “Yes, that’s the shape I want. Make it imposing, but elegant. A dragon worthy of standing beside a lion.”

The mason bowed. “It will be done, my lord. We’ll begin work on the first tower by week’s end.”

As the masons dispersed to begin preparations, Alester clapped a hand on Jason’s shoulder, his grin turning sly. “You do realize the poets will have a field day with this, don’t you? ‘Lions and dragons entwined’—sounds like the beginning of a ballad.”

Jason chuckled, shaking his head. “Let them write their ballads. History will remember the truth. This isn’t just about lions and dragons, Alester. It’s about ensuring that the legacy we build here endures for generations.”

Alester nodded, his amusement tempered by a hint of admiration. “You’ve always thought ahead, Jason. I’ll give you that.”

Jason turned back to the battlements, his gaze sweeping over the endless horizon. “When you’re entrusted with something as great as Casterly Rock, you don’t have the luxury of thinking small. This isn’t just my legacy—it’s for my wife, my child, and every Lannister who comes after us.”

The sun dipped lower, casting long shadows across the ancient stone, as Jason stood tall against the wind. In his mind’s eye, he could already see the completed carvings—the fierce lions and the proud dragons standing side by side, guardians of a future that he was determined to secure.

The dining hall of Casterly Rock glowed warmly under the flickering light of the chandeliers, their golden glow casting soft shadows over the long table where the Lannister family had gathered. The faint aroma of roasted meats, freshly baked bread, and spiced wine filled the air as servants moved deftly, refilling goblets and replacing emptied platters.

At the head of the table, Jason sat, his gaze drawn not to the lively conversation around him but to you. You sat beside him, poised and graceful, your head tilted slightly as you listened to Lady Leonella describe the day’s events in her melodic voice. Despite the rich spread before you, your movements were deliberate and composed as you ate. Each piece of food was neatly cut and brought to your lips with a precision that Jason couldn’t help but admire.

He marveled at how effortlessly you carried yourself, your lack of sight never betraying you. Every gesture, every word you spoke carried an air of dignity and charm that Jason found himself captivated by, even in the simplicity of a family meal.

“You stare too much, my son,” Lady Leonella teased softly, her voice low enough to keep the remark private. She lifted her goblet of wine, her hair catching the light as she turned her gaze on Jason. Her expression was knowing, a small smile tugging at her lips.

Jason chuckled under his breath, glancing at his mother with a faint grin. “Can you blame me?” he replied quietly. “She makes even the mundane seem extraordinary.”

Leonella sipped her wine, her smile widening. “You’ve always been sentimental, Jason. It suits you.”

Further down the table, Ser Alester leaned back in his chair, a goblet in hand as he spoke with a mischievous grin. “So, have you all heard the latest about Allard Reyne’s wedding feast?” he asked, his voice loud enough to draw the attention of the other Lannisters seated nearby.

“Who hasn’t?” one of the younger cousins chimed in, rolling her eyes. “It seems half the Westerlands are invited.”

“And the other half wishes they weren’t,” another added, earning a round of laughter from those seated nearby.

Lady Leonella arched a delicate brow, her interest piqued. “What spectacle is Allard planning now?” she asked, her tone laced with mild curiosity.

Alester took a long sip of his wine before replying, clearly enjoying the attention. “A week-long celebration,” he said, setting the goblet down. “He’s hired minstrels, acrobats, and even some sort of exotic animal trainer. Rumor has it there will be a lion and a bear fighting in the courtyard.”

Leonella frowned slightly, her expression disapproving. “A lion and a bear? How barbaric.”

Jason’s lips thinned, his gaze shifting briefly to Alester. “Typical Allard,” he muttered. “Always trying to outshine everyone else, even in his own marriage.”

“You’re not wrong,” Alester said, leaning forward with a conspiratorial grin. “But I hear the real spectacle is the bride’s dowry. Supposedly, the Leffords are gifting him enough gold to fund a small army.”

“Gold won’t buy him loyalty,” Jason remarked, his tone sharp. “Allard thrives on spectacle because he lacks substance. Let him throw his lavish feast. It won’t change who he is.”

The table quieted briefly at Jason’s pointed words, though a few exchanged amused glances. The subtle tension eased when you spoke, your voice soft yet steady.

“A marriage should be about more than spectacle,” you said, your hands resting lightly in your lap after setting down your goblet. “The vows, the bond between husband and wife—that’s what gives it meaning.”

Jason turned to you, his gaze softening. “And you’ve given ours all the meaning I could ever need.”

Your lips curved into a small, warm smile, and though your eyes couldn’t meet his, the emotion in your expression spoke volumes. “As have you, Jason.”

Leonella cleared her throat gently, breaking the moment with a smile of her own. “Well said, my dear. It’s a shame others don’t share your wisdom.”

Alester laughed lightly, raising his goblet. “Here’s to marriages with meaning, then. And to the ones without—may they entertain us all.”

The table erupted into laughter, the mood lightening once more. Jason remained quiet, his gaze lingering on you as the conversation continued around him. As he watched you smile and respond gracefully to the others, he felt a profound sense of pride and gratitude.

Even amidst the noise and frivolity, you were the calm at the center of it all—the steady, unwavering presence that grounded him. And for that, Jason silently vowed to protect and cherish you, no matter what challenges lay ahead.

The chambers were quiet, lit by the soft glow of a single candelabra on the bedside table. The heavy drapes over the windows muted the sounds of the sea beyond, creating a cocoon of warmth and stillness. You lay nestled in the center of the vast bed, your silken hair spread out over the pillows, the flush of passion still lingering on your skin. Jason sat beside you, his hair disheveled, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath. The warmth of his presence and the weight of his gaze were unmistakable, even as silence hung between you.

His hand rested lightly on your swollen belly, his palm pressing gently as though trying to feel the life stirring within. His green eyes softened, and a faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “I still can’t believe how close we are now,” he murmured, his voice low and reverent. “Halford says it could be any day.”

You turned your face toward him, your own hand covering his. “He did,” you replied softly. “Though I suspect you’re more excited about his… particular advice than the timing itself.”

Jason chuckled, a low, warm sound that rumbled in his chest. “I won’t deny it,” he admitted, his grin turning playful. “When Halford suggested that more intimate activities might help things along, I didn’t think it was my place to argue. Who am I to deny the wisdom of a maester?”

You laughed, the sound light and free, though a faint blush warmed your cheeks. “You were far too eager to agree with him.”

Jason leaned down, his lips brushing over your temple as his fingers traced light circles on your belly. “Of course I was. Do you blame me?” he murmured, his voice soft against your skin. “You’re radiant, Y/N. Even more so now.”

You smiled, though a faint shadow of nervousness crossed your face. “It feels so close now, Jason. I can’t help but think of my mother… of what happened to her.”

His expression grew serious, his hand stilling as he leaned closer. “Don’t,” he said firmly, his voice steady but gentle. “We talk about this. You’re not your mother, and this isn’t the same. You’ve been strong throughout all of this. And I won’t let anything happen to you. You have my word.”

You turned your head slightly, your lips curving into a faint smile as your hand brushed over his. “I trust you,” you said softly. “And I trust Halford. He seems more concerned about the baby’s impatience than anything else.”

Jason’s grin returned, and he pressed a kiss to your knuckles. “Impatience seems fitting, considering the bloodline. A Lannister-Targaryen child wouldn’t dare be anything less.”

You laughed again, the sound warming the room. “And you’re already boasting about them before they’ve even taken their first breath.”

He smirked, his hand still gently resting on your belly. “Of course I am. This child is the future of our house—lion and dragon, strength and fire. They’re going to change everything.”

You tilted your head, your fingers brushing lightly over his jaw. “As long as they’re healthy, I’ll be happy.”

Jason leaned down, capturing your lips in a soft, lingering kiss. When he pulled back, his gaze was filled with love and determination. “They will be,” he said firmly. “And so will you. I’ll make sure of it.”

Jason adjusted his position on the bed, propping himself up on one elbow so he could face you fully. His hand remained on your belly, his touch light yet protective, as though guarding both you and the life within. The flickering candlelight softened his features, making his eyes gleam with warmth.

“Have you thought about what you’d like for them?” he asked softly, his voice carrying a rare vulnerability. “The kind of life we’ll give them here, at the Rock?”

You smiled faintly, placing your hand over his and tracing the lines of his fingers. “I’ve thought of little else,” you admitted. “I want them to feel safe, above all. Loved and protected, no matter what the world outside these walls might say.”

Jason nodded, his expression solemn. “They’ll have that,” he said firmly. “This child will grow up knowing their worth, knowing the strength of their bloodline. Lion and dragon. No one will dare challenge that.”

You tilted your head, your tone turning playful. “Already planning their future battles, are you?”

Jason chuckled, though there was a thoughtful edge to his smile. “Not battles, no,” he said, shaking his head. “But I do want them to understand what it means to carry the weight of two great houses. To take pride in who they are. And to lead, when the time comes.”

Your fingers brushed over his wrist, grounding him. “Jason,” you said gently. “Let them be a child first. Let them discover their own path, before the weight of titles and expectations is placed on their shoulders.”

He studied you for a moment, then nodded slowly. “You’re right,” he said. “I just… I want to give them everything. To make sure they don’t feel the pressures I did, growing up as the heir.”

You smiled, your voice softening. “And you will. You’ll be an incredible father, Jason. I see it already.”

His expression softened, his thumb tracing light circles over your belly. “What about you?” he asked. “What do you see for them?”

You exhaled, your thoughts turning inward. “I see a child who loves this home,” you said slowly. “Who feels the sea breeze and hears the crashing waves, and knows they belong here. I see them with their own dragon, perhaps—riding through the skies, unafraid of anything. And I see them with you, learning from your strength, your wisdom.”

Jason’s smile widened, his gaze filled with pride. “And from you,” he added. “Your patience, your kindness. They’ll be lucky to have you as their mother.”

The words brought a blush to your cheeks, and you looked down briefly. “If they have even half of what we’ve shared,” you said softly, “they’ll have a good life.”

Jason leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “They will,” he promised. “Because we’ll make sure of it.”

The two of you fell silent, the weight of your shared dreams settling comfortably between you. Jason shifted, resting his head lightly against your shoulder as his hand remained on your belly, feeling the faint stirrings of the life you were both so eager to meet.

“And what of their name?” he murmured after a moment, his voice thoughtful. “Have you decided what you’d like to call them?”

You smiled, your hand brushing through his hair. “I’ve thought of a few,” you said. “But I wanted to hear yours first.”

Jason chuckled, lifting his head to look at you. “I’ll have to think carefully,” he said, his tone teasing. “After all, this is a name that will go down in history.”

“Take your time,” you replied, laughter in your voice. “We still have a little while, I think.”

Jason smirked, leaning in to kiss you again. “Not too long, I hope,” he said against your lips. “I can’t wait to meet them.”

As the candlelight flickered around you, the future seemed closer than ever—bright and full of promise, built on the love and strength that connected the two of you.

[leiawritesstories]

Mama's Little Pirate

Rowaelin Month, Day 13: Babies/Kids/Next Gen

a Fly The Black Flag outtake ;)) but you do NOT need to read FTBF before this

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: few swear words, otherwise none hehe

Enjoy!

@rowaelinscourt

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The salty evening breeze had never felt so good against Aelin’s skin as it did that evening when she trudged up the sandy stretch of beach towards the faint smudge of a building on the horizon. Gently, the light wind lifted the strands of hair that were plastered to her neck and cheeks, nudging them away from her skin. Beneath her weathered boots, the ground changed from shifting sand to dark, rich soil and gravel, and she released a bone-deep sigh of relief. Solid ground still wavered beneath her feet, and she had to force herself to stay upright. 

She hadn’t battled her way to being the most notorious pirate on the ocean just for her damn sea legs to betray her. 

Swift as the wind, and just as in tune with her movements, Rowan caught her from behind, supporting her. “Don’t go giving out on me just yet, Fireheart,” he teased, a low, wicked glint sparking in his eyes. “We haven’t even made it home yet.” 

“Ass.” She swatted his muscled shoulder playfully. “And who said anything about we making it home? I thought you were all excited to scare the living shit out of Lorcan and Ells.” 

“Oh, I am.” His smirk was nothing short of roguish. “But I can’t let my wife collapse on the side of the shitty road before we can set that plan into motion.” 

“Such a gentleman.” Regaining her balance, she turned around, rose onto her tiptoes, and stole a kiss that was altogether too short. 

He rested his forehead against hers after breaking the kiss. “I’ll see you soon, my love.” 

“Indeed you will.”

With a final kiss, Rowan veered off into the forest, heading for the hunting trails where his horse was tethered. If all went according to the plan, he’d come home after Aelin and the others had finished dinner and make a “surprise” entrance. 

Aelin took a moment to shake out her complaining limbs before she headed towards the forest. One desire remained at the front of her mind: get back to her home and her daughter before night fully set, otherwise her beloved, if far too fussy, friends would send out a search party. 

“Hey, Cap.” Speaking of those friends…

“Ells.” Aelin turned to find Elide sitting astride her horse on the side of the road. Aelin’s own stallion was next to Elide’s mare. “Fancy meeting you here.” 

Elide rolled her eyes. “Figured you’d want to get home before dinner gets cold.” 

“Aren’t you always so observant,” Aelin teased. She tossed her seabag into the saddlebag and swung herself up onto the sleek gray stallion, running an affectionate hand along his neck. “Thanks, Ells.” 

“Anytime.” Her first mate saluted, wheeled her mare around, and nudged her into an easy canter. “I’ll beat you home by five minutes, Cap!” 

“We’ll see about that!” Aelin crowed, leaning low and nudging her stallion into a canter. “Fly, boy!” 

Elide did beat Aelin back to the Keep, and the shorter woman was grinning widely when Aelin crossed the courtyard after leaving her horse in the stables and slapped two silvers into her hand. 

“All right, you win,” she fake-grumbled. “Damn pirates, taking all my money.” 

“As if you weren’t far, far worse,” Elide snorted. “And speaking of pirates, where–”

“MAMA!” The childish shriek was followed immediately by a rapid patter of small footsteps, and a small blonde blur came whizzing across the courtyard into Aelin’s open arms. 

Beaming, Aelin squeezed her seven-year-old daughter tightly. “Hi, lovey,” she murmured. 

“I miss you, Mama.” Evie whispered. Her big green eyes filled with irresistible tears. “You were gone so long!” 

“Oh, my Evalin,” Aelin breathed, tears inadvertently springing to her eyes, “I’ll always come home to you.” She kissed her daughter’s messy blonde curls. “You know that, right?” 

Evie nodded. “Still miss you.” 

“I miss you too.” Aelin cupped Evie’s rosy little face. “So, so much.” 

“Good to see you still alive, Captain,” drawled another voice from behind her. 

Without turning around, Aelin snorted dryly. “Salvaterre, the day you say that without irony is the day cows fu–er, fly.”

Lorcan smothered a laugh. “And you wonder where your child gets it from.” 

“I don’t, actually.” She turned the full force of her charming smile onto the hulking, perpetually scowly pirate. “She gets it from your sons.” 

He cracked a smirk. “Touché.” 

Aelin allowed Lorcan to drape his arm across her shoulders for a few seconds–his version of an affectionate hug. “Before you ask, the Doranelle is just fine. She and the Terrasen should be back in no more than three months.” 

“Better be bringing rum,” Lorcan grumbled. 

She snickered. “What if I told Ro that we were oversupplied here and didn’t need any more?” 

He grunted something too crude for children’s ears. “You’re the worst, Galathynius.” 

“Why thank you,” she crooned. “Don’t worry, Scowly, there’ll be plenty of rum.” She flashed him a wicked grin. “If you’re really lucky, it won’t even have been purchased.” 

Evie tugged at Aelin’s sleeve. “Dinner, Mama!” 

“That’s right, lovey!” Aelin scooped her daughter up and settled her on her shoulders. “We can’t go and forget the most important part of the day!” She strode into the brick-and-stone manor that sat at the center of the Iron Isles Pirates’ Keep. 

The compound comprised the manor, stables, a handful of smaller houses for other pirates, several different training buildings, and a number of storehouses built into different parts of the hill, some of them underground. Built primarily from the same gray stone that most of the Isles were made of, the fortress both blended into the landscape and loomed over it, a mark of the pirates’ protection and of their merciless reputation. 

Since the first building had been completed, six years ago now, the crews of the Terrasen and the Doranelle, as well as their smaller companion ships, had called the place home. 

After dinner was finished, Aelin was lounging in a comfortable armchair with a book and a drink, paying more attention to the children running around the large but homey living room. Evie had received a wooden toy sword from Uncle Scowly for her birthday, and she was barely ever seen without it dangling at her side. 

Lorcan was even teaching her how to wield it. 

Aelin taught her, too, when she was able to snatch a few moments to spend with her daughter rather than dealing with the bullshit that the unruly pirates were always throwing at her. 

Evie was play-fighting with Cal and Daric, Elide and Lorcan’s twin boys, all three of the children screeching and yelling as they pretended to beat the hell out of the Royal Navy. 

“I don’t wanna be the Navy!” Daric whined, stamping his small foot in anger. “You made me be them last time!” 

“Shut up!” Evie retorted, sticking her tongue out. “Last time, you made me be the prisoner!” 

“So?”

“So this is fair!” She scowled–an expression inherited purely from her father–when Daric tried to push back on her argument. “If you don’t like it, you can quit. Like a…” She fumbled for an appropriate term. “Like–like a pussy!” 

“Evalin Whitethorn Galathynius!” Aelin exclaimed, dropping her book in utter shock. “That was a very, very naughty word!” She folded her arms across her chest, firmly refusing to meet either Elide’s or Lorcan’s badly hidden smirks lest she explode into laughter. “Come here, Evie.” 

Flushing, Evie slowly approached her mother, sword dragging on the wooden floor. “I’m sorry, Mama,” she mumbled. 

Aelin forced sternness onto her face. “Evie, lovey, do you remember what Mama told you about naughty words?” 

“Only say it when I know what it means,” Evie said, quietly. 

“That’s right.” Aelin’s demeanor softened. She knelt down and wrapped her daughter’s hands in her own. “Uncle Lorcan and Uncle Fen like to say words they shouldn’t say in front of you and your cousins, and that means that you have to make them shut up.” 

Evie giggled and sniffled all at once. “I can tell them to shut up?”

“That’s right.” Aelin kissed Evie’s forehead. “So tell me, little love, which one of your foul-mouthed uncles said that word around you and your cousins.” 

“Um…” The little pirate girl hesitated. “It-it was…” She trailed off.

“Do you need to whisper?” Aelin asked softly. Sometimes, letting Evie whisper into her ear was better than having her say it out loud. 

Evie shook her head. “It was…it was Dad.” 

Aelin’s gasp of absolute shock was echoed by Rowan’s characteristic, I’ve-held-it-in-for-too- damn-long snort. “That’s my girl!” he crowed, stepping into the living room from where he’d been hiding in the hall.

Elide gasped. Lorcan whipped his head to the doorway. Aelin beamed–the “surprise” had gone perfectly. 

Shock, delight, and joy bloomed across Evie’s face. “Dad!” she screeched, throwing her toy sword to the floor and sprinting to her father, who swung her up into his arms, beaming. 

“Hi, little love.” Rowan hugged Evie fiercely. “Is it true that you called your cousin a naughty word? One that you heard me say?” 

She nodded, earnestly. “Mhmm. Daric was being a pu–” 

“Ah-ah, nope, shhhhhhh.” Rowan pressed his forefinger over his daughter’s lips. “What did Mama just say about not using a word unless you know what it means?” 

Evie sighed. “Okay, Dad.” 

“That’s my girl.” He smacked a theatrical kiss onto her cheek. “Want to show me what you’ve been learning with your sword, Evie girl?” She exclaimed in agreement and he set her down, then made his way over to his wife. 

Aelin stepped easily into his embrace. “Captain,” she murmured, laughter dancing in her bright eyes. 

“Captain,” he murmured back. He kissed her softly, snatching a quiet moment with her before their daughter pulled on both of her parents’ sleeves, demanding that they watch her “sword fightin’.” 

It was precisely the life Aelin had only ever dreamt of.

~~~

[ahamasmiyodhah]

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐈: The Alliance

𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘: || Kesariya ||~ The Saffron Shade of Love

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑: This story is a fictional account on the marriage of Maharana Pratap with Purbai Solankini, the Princess of Solanki Clan. She was originally known as Pyaar Kanwar Solanki, and her name changed after her marriage. It's strictly fictional and bashing in comments or in my Asks as anons is not allowed other than constructive criticism.

ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ

Maharani Jaiwanta Baiji Songara took the flower from the copper plate nearby and pushed it on the needle, making it roll down in the white string of the Garland she was making. The Maharani of Mewar was as generous as the flow of the River, always giving and never asking. But there was one thing Jaiwanta Baiji was picky about.

The Pooja of Her Krishna.

And thus, the Queen of Mewar was stringing garlands of white Jasmine flowers along with her sister-wives, the other wives of her Husband Maharana Uday Singh, namely Sajja Baiji Solankini and Karamati Baiji of Marwar, Maharana Uday Singh's second and third wife respectively, his fourth wife Veer Bai Jhala having gone to the temple of Eklingji to pray for the beloved son of Mewar, Kunwar Pratap Singh Sisodiya who was stationed at Kelwara.

"Jija! Here." Sajja Baiji said and gave the newly strung garland to Jaiwanta Baiji, the dusky skinned beauty of Jalore taking it and admiring it. "Jija, I see you thinking about something a lot nowadays. What happened? You look worried." Karamati Baiji asked.

It was a known fact to both that why Jaiwanta Baiji thought a lot. The Songara Chauhan Princess was worried about the ammunition help that would be needed for future help. Maharana Udai Singh remained firm on his resolve to surrender to the Mughals, but some other Rajput kings did not consider it appropriate to fight against the Mughals. This was the reason that Mewar had less military force, due to which the Mewari Rajputs had to pay a heavy price in the future.

"I'm just worried about ammunition, Karamati Behna. We know that some of our family are openly with us, and some are against it. How will we fight the Mughals until we get enough military forces?" Jaiwanta Baiji placed forth her worry.

"Jija, why do you worry about this? Ranaji will find a good solution. And about ammunition, I'm here right? My Father Rao Prithvi Singh Solanki won't stay behind in helping Ranaji." Sajja Baiji said in a soothing tone, which eased the worry in Jaiwanta's heart. Just as she could string another flower, her maid walked in.

"Khamma Rani sa Hukum!" She bowed. "Rana sa Hukum as for you three's presence in his Private Chambers main room. He awaits you with Rawat Chundawat ji." She told them and the three Queens of Mewar looked at each other with furrowed eyebrows, wondering why he would need all of their presence at once.

They all looked at each other, as Amar came in running exactly then for Jaivanta Bai. She laughed softly and scooped the three year old into her arms and took him with them, knowing that seeing Amar will calm Ranaji down too.

Rana Uday Singh meanwhile was agitated, worrying his lower lip between his teeth as he paced around the map of Rajputana. "We need ammunition, Ranaji. Kunwar Pratap is in Kelwara with our Army, and Bhils of Van Rajya are with us all thanks to him. But we still need an entire army at our dispatch for our war against the Mughals." Rawatji said.

Rawat Sai Das Chundawat was a great and able commander for Mewar, who also worked as a Strategy Planner and a Advisor to Maharana Uday Singh. The History of Mewar said that originally, the Chundawats were the sub-caste od Sisodiyas. Their progenitor Chunda Singh was the original heir of his Father Maharana Lakha, but gave away the Throne to his younger step brother Mokal Singh Sisodia.

"I know, I know Rawatji. But you know what happened to the letters we sent. Some replied in agreement, some in disagreement and some weren't replied." Maharana Uday Singh said in a frustrated tone, just as the two heard the sound of anklets.

"Dadajiraj!” came the cheery voice of Amar, who ran straight to his grandfather’s arms, as the latter’s three wives entered, looking at their husband and understanding the tense situation.

"Bhanwarji!" Uday Singh smiled automatically as he picked up his grandson and kissed his head. "You were with your Dadisa?" He asked.

"I just went to her, Dadajiraj," said the three year old, his smile the same as his mother's, though everything else was a copy of Pratap.

"Bhanwarji, as much as I wish to talk to you and spend some time with you, I have something very important to discuss with your Dadisas. Why don't you go to your Maa sa Hukum?" Uday Singh said gently.

"Hukum Dadajiraj" Amar Singh slipped out of his hold and joined his palms in a greeting to everybody and left in search of his Mother.

"Ranaji, what happened?" Jaiwanta Baiji asked once she was sure Amar Singh had gone. "Jaiwanta Baiji, I need to talk to you about something important. I have discussed this new Battle plan with Rawatji for the war against Mughals but.." Rana Uday Singh trailed off looking away with a sigh.

"But?" Jaiwanta Baiji asked as Sajja Baiji and Karamati Baiji exchanged glances.

"But we are short of ammunition Jaiwanta Baiji.." He sighed, finally telling her his worries.

"Do you have any Kingdom in mind to form an alliance with?"

At this question of Jaiwanta Baiji, everyone looked at her. When the Queen shared a glance with other spouses of Kings, the other two knew what she was implying.

"Alliance?" Uday Singh furrowed his brows and looked at Jaiwanta Baiji. "I don't understand Jaiwanta Baiji." He said quietly. He did understand it very well, he just wanted her to say it clearly.

“To get a larger army and ammunition, we need to form an alliance,” Jaivanta said gently. “Shakta and Heer’s marriage strengthened the bond with Jalore, but what about Toda?”

“Toda?" Uday Singh blinked confused before looking at Sajja Baiji who stepped up. "Ranaji, my niece Pyaar Kanwar Solanki. She is the daughter of my younger brother and his first wife who died early, and my brother was martyred. She was mainly raised by my brother's second Wife Mumal Baiji and my Father Rao Prithvi Singh Solanki." Sajja Bai said. "She is around 2 or 3 years younger than Ajabde." She told him.

Rana Uday Singh nodded with a hum as he reminisced about the shy and timid Toda Princess whom he had seen ages ago when Sajja Baiji's brother was alive. "Will Kunwar Pratap agree? He's very protective of Ajabde Baisa." He asked.

"Why won't he when Ajabde Baisa convinces him?" Jaiwanta Baiji smiled innocently, making Rana Uday Singh look at her incredulously. "Jaiwanta Baiji, Ajabde Baisa is the eldest daughter in law of Mewar. She must understand that as the future Heir Kunwar Pratap has to marry multiple times, what is asking her then?" He asked.

"The same reason as you ask Dheer Behna before doing anything." Karamati Baiji piqued in with a sweet smile. Uday Singh froze, turning to look at Karamat Baiji and sighed. "Karamati Baiji, I ask you all too" He was cut off.

”Before you ask Dheer? I am your first wife!” Jaivanta Bai said with a frown.

"I am not saying that!!" Uday Singh said immediately, his eyes widening in the fear that Jaiwanta Baiji will get upset with him. Although she was never one to get upset, he had his own experience with her. But wait, WHY was he being reminded of those experiences now? They had a Son who had his own Son! Uday Singh mentally shook his head. Calm Jaiwanta Baiji first.

"Jaiwanta Baiji, I mean to say that I take your Paramarsh- I mean you fours too before asking her!" He tried to calm her down.

”You do? Then why are you questioning why Ajabde’s permission is needed?” Jaivanta fought back with her husband, glaring at him. Rawatji looked at the scene unfolding in front of him incredulously, standing quietly with an amused smile. The only person who can win against a stubborn Maharana Uday Singh was his first wife— Maharani Jaiwanta Baiji Songara of Jalore.

Uday Singh saw through it and sighed. Putting his hands on hips, he shook his head exasperated. "Jaiwanta Baiji, I can never win against you. Okay, you go and ask Ajabde, and I will write to Pratap only after getting her agreement." Uday Singh said.

Jaiwanta Baiji smiled victoriously, looking at her Sisters. "Then Ranaji, we must go back to our work." She said and took her leave, her feet turning towards Ajabde's room.

@harinishivaa @mahi-wayy @yehsahihai @xxdritaxx @houseofbreadpakoda @ramayantika @voidsteffy @warnermeadowsgirl @stxrrynxghts @mayakimayahai @krsnaradhika @chaliyaaa @celestesinsight @sambaridli @desigurlie @hum-suffer @sanskari-kanya and whoever wants to be added in tag list please do comment or drop in my ask or dm!

[navree]

Why do you think Aegon the Conqueror couldn’t endure Visenya’s presence later in marriage during his reign as king? P.S. love your blog xoxo

Ah thank you, glad you like the varied ramblings <3

Honestly, it's entirely open to speculation as to why they fell out as spectacularly as they did. There is absolutely no documentation on how these two felt about each other at all, and the only mention we get that even approaches on anything touching the subject is the fact that there was an in-universe joke at Aegon's court that the reason why Visenya was put in charge of building the Red Keep was so that Aegon "would not have to endure her presence on Dragonstone". It's why I always say that any theorizing about the Conquerors always veers into straight headcanoning after a little bit, because we know so little that trying to extrapolate interpretations really just depends on how an individual perceives them as people and their relationships.

It could be that they were just never close and never really liked each other much, and as they got older were just less able to put that to the side and decided that the less they saw of each other, the better. If they already had a relationship fueled by enmity and never cared for each other, once they got what they needed from each other (an son in the form of Maegor, a spare to Aenys's heir for Aegon and a foothold in her own power for Visenya), they both agreed that they didn't need to spend any more time together and that it was best to split duties in order not to be in the same place at the same time. After all, when Aegon was an active ruler living in King's Landing with Aenys, Visenya and Maegor were at Dragonstone, and once Aegon decided to spend more time at Dragonstone while passing on most of his kingly duties to his son, he put Visenya in charge of the the Red Keep so that she'd be in King's Landing, still away from him (though Maegor was in residence on Dragonstone while he was there, which is a lot but also a matter for another time).

It could be that Visenya might have done something in those years to get on Aegon's bad side. Common perception in Westeros was that Visenya was the odd one out in her marriage, with the old saying like that "Aegon wed Visenya out of duty and Rhaenys out of desire." and the court noticing that "the king spent ten nights with Rhaenys for every night with Visenya" being very popular talking points not just in historical circles later, but contemporaneously while they were alive. With Rhaenys gone after her death in the First Dornish War, Aegon shooting down any suggestions that he take another wife, and Visenya then providing Aegon with a male child herself to disprove rumors that she was barren, Visenya was in the strongest position as a consort specifically than she had ever been since she got married. And Visenya might have let that get to her head, and since we know she wasn't shy not just about thinking Aenys an unfit king while he was actively reigning, but also about her opinions on Rhaenys herself, given that it was able to be recorded that "Queen Visenya thought her sister frivolous" (though I've discussed that quote and my thoughts surrounding it in detail and I do think it's more complicated than that), Visenya might have said some unkind things about Rhaenys that Aegon overheard. Maybe she mentioned Rhaenys's rumored infidelities (another thing I don't subscribe to personally) or just disparaged her as a person, or the fact that she died, and Aegon, who canonically never entirely got over what happened to his most beloved wife/baby sister, heard it and that led to a falling out that would eventually lead to being unable to endure having her even in the same part of the country as him.

It could also be that their grief over what happened to Rhaenys drove them apart. Grief is a really powerful thing, and it can sometimes create wounds that don't ever fully heal, especially if the grief is caused by an external factor, such as someone being killed by someone else's deliberate actions, for instance. It's why some couples end up divorced after the loss of a child, for example. It could honestly be that Rhaenys's death, already during a precarious time (in the middle of a war that wasn't going the exact way Aegon and Visenya wanted it to go), not to mention the way it created some immediate stressors for Aegon specifically in Aenys's mental breakdown and new worries for the succession, as well as weakening the Targaryens as a dynasty, might have just been too much to overcome, even once the war was over. Neither Aegon nor Visenya seem like people who were inclined to talk their feelings out or even try to vocalize them at all, simply preferring to internalize them, and that this meant they never communicated their needs to each other to try and be able to find peace with what happened to Rhaenys, and it ultimately drove them away from each other rather than bringing them closer together.

I do think, however, that the key thing to remember here is that the common elements that led to Aegon and Visenya being the way they were with each other later in life is that they were cold with each other, and grew more distant. That doesn't speak to them having a sudden argument and immediately hating each other, but a situation that got worse and worse over time. Which leads us into what I personally think went down.

My own personal theory, however, is a bit more complex. I've always viewed Rhaenys as having been the glue that held her family together, due to the fact that Visenya was never bothered by her inclusion in the marriage, Orys and her seemed to be quite friendly, and obviously Aegon adored her. So her unexpected and tragically early demise, especially in the way it happened (literally shot out of the sky and crashing to the ground amidst the death throes of her beloved dragon) affected both siblings deeply, possibly irreparably, like I mentioned above, though I do think it drew them closer together for a time when they were basically carpet bombing Dorne. And when Aegon made the seemingly unilateral choice to end the war with Dorne, in what appears to be direct defiance to Visenya's own desires ("Prince Nymor’s peace proposals encountered strong opposition in King’s Landing. Queen Visenya was hard set against them. “No peace without submission,” she declared, and her friends on the king’s council echoed her words."), I think Visenya was not only angry at the decision, but potentially offended that she wasn't taken into consideration as well as deeply hurt Aegon was willing to put what happened to Rhaenys in the past, considering Visenya was just as involved in the Dragon's Wroth, a direct response to Rhaenys's death motivated by grief and rage for it, as he was. And while I do think that Aegon had his own reasons for it*, I highly doubt that he shared those reasons with Visenya, so to her it looks like she was being treated not as the co-monarch she was, but just as a mere queen consort, which is insulting, and not given any consultation in a decision that involved not just the realm, but family as well, as Rhaenys was her sister too. So you now have two people I don't believe were ever super close, beyond the love that a brother and sister might have for each other, especially when compared to Aegon's relationships with Orys and Rhaenys, neither of whom were the kind of people capable or even equipped to either offer comfort to the other or express how they were feeling, and both heavily feeling a very profound loss that has affected the very fabric of how this family operates, now in a situation where they're drifting further away than they already might have organically due to circumstances that are never going to be addressed or rectified because of who they are as people. And this likely progressively got worse and worse as everything settled in, to the point of literally damaging Aegon's relationship with Maegor, that after a good few years it likely did get to the point of Aegon and Visenya not being able to stand being in the same city. And I do think it eventually became more Aegon based than Visenya based, considering that he was the one dealing with the most pressure and the most profound feelings about it, being a widower and having to take care of a kid who almost died as a result of all of this and living with the weight of his choices and being the primary source of governance for six out of seven kingdoms on an entire continent.

TL;DR There are a lot of reasons that generally depend on how you view the relationship between the two of them, but my own view is that the circumstances of Rhaenys's death in Dorne and Aegon's eventual decision to go for peace over Visenya's wishes exacerbated some already complex dynamics between the two of them into something genuinely unfixable and neither of them were willing or able to try. And thanks for loving the blog, hugs and kisses!!

*My pet theory has always been that Nymor's letter contained the revelation that Rhaenys had managed to survive Meraxes's fall (it's possible, given what we seen with Aegon II and Baela Targaryen later) and had until recently been in the possession of the Ullers, given that she was shot down over Hellholt, but that the Martells had taken custody of her and were sending her to Dragonstone so that Aegon could at least have her remains, if not outright get a chance to say goodbye, as she was likely still fatally injured. It explains why Aegon reacted so strongly to the letter, why he immediately flew to Dragonstone (to verify the truth, possibly say goodbye to Rhaenys if she was still alive when he arrived, and at least give her a proper Targaryen funeral), and why he was so willing to immediately agree to peace with Dorne and be on such good terms with the Martells later in his reign, realizing the kindness they did him with this and Aegon himself having likely already reached the conclusion that the war couldn't carry on. If Visenya found out that this was the reason, and that Aegon hadn't just made a decision without her input on something this massive but had denied her an opportunity for goodbye and closure with someone she loved dearly (as a sister and also in my other pet theory that Visenya was a lesbian and in love with Rhaenys too), then that's an added reason why she and Aegon grew further and further apart.

[bridgertonbabe]

I loved your headcannons about Hyacinth.

What about Gareth?

I find it interesting that he accepted Hyacinth just as she is

In comparison to my headcanon of Simon as the long-suffering wine aunt of the in-laws with all of their scandals and constant shenanigans, Gareth actually can't get enough of all the antics his in-laws get up to. He is perpetually amused, the Bridgertons are his favourite form of entertainment and he does nothing to discourage any of them in the slightest; he just sits back with his popcorn and enjoys the newest installment of whatever mayhem any of his in-laws have got themselves into now.

He absolutely loves and adores Hyacinth for who she is and there's nothing about her that he's interested in taming because she wouldn't be Hyacinth without her thrill-seeking gung-ho zest for adventure. Far from trying to hold her back, Gareth champions his wife in whatever she puts her mind to; whether that's her obsessive hunt for diamonds, gathering as much gossip as she can at any social occasion, or even exacting petty revenge on those who have wronged her nearest and dearest (though the only times he ever does feel the need to step in and gently rein her in is if one of her hare-brained schemes seems to be on the cusp of veering into the territory of criminal activity).

I feel as though it was a mutual decision between husband and wife to have only the two children. After Isabella's birth Hyacinth voiced her delight in having one of each and she considered their family complete much to Gareth's relief. They hadn't discussed how many children they had wanted prior to the birth of their daughter and though he would have provided Hyacinth with more children if that was what she had wished for, Gareth personally thought two children was more than enough. He dreaded the idea of him and Hyacinth being outnumbered by their offspring and his feeling on the matter was validated further by seeing the bigger broods his in-laws had to contend with. At the very least he had two eyes to watch his two children with; any more than that he feared he'd be letting something go amiss and especially with the family he's married into he knows that losing sight of any person with Bridgerton blood running through their veins can only lead to some sort of inevitable bedlam.

As enthusiastic as Gareth would be to get involved with Pall Mall and other such competitive games beloved by the Bridgertons, I feel as though his game of choice would actually be chess. While he's not afraid to muck in with the far more spirited sport games, I think he would enjoy the far more peaceful and mental challenge of the board game. I feel like it would be his way of bonding with his brothers-in-law and male guests while Hyacinth hosts their female company in tea and gossip.

Gareth is very easy to amuse and entertain, and if he finds something particularly funny he'll be tickled by it for many years after the fact and gets a kick out of mentioning and reminiscing about it. He would also find it very hard to restrain himself from expressing his amusement e.g. at a big family dinner Colin makes a teasing remark about Anthony and while Gareth doesn't want to laugh and be on the receiving end of one of Anthony's furrowed glares, he can't help the slight shaking of his shoulders or the grin that keeps trying to bubble up on his lips - and what's worse is that if Hyacinth catches onto him trying to suppress his laughter, she'll do everything she can to prod him into giving up the ghost and snorting/laughing aloud.

[adelaideattractions]

Beloved father killed in four-vehicle crash identified

It’s understood a white Holden Commodore travelling south allegedly crashed through fencing on the median strip, veering onto the wrong side of the road and into the path of the motorbike and two other vehicles about 3.50pm on Tuesday.

Witnesses say Liebig came off the bike and was then run over by a Mazda ute.

Emergency services attempted to revive him, but he died at the scene.

In a tribute online, his wife, Prudence Liebig said: “Yesterday afternoon, whilst coming home to me, my darling Kym was killed.”

Read More: https://7news.com.au/news/motorcyclist-killed-in-four-vehicle-crash-as-car-smashes-through-median-strip-fence-in-hindmarsh-sa-c-17321485

[finishinglinepress]

NEW FROM FINISHING LINE PRESS: Ambrosia: Love Poems by Mark D. Bennion

On SALE now! Pre-order Price Guarantee: https://www.finishinglinepress.com/product/ambrosia-by-mark-bennion/

Ambrosia: #Love Poems chronicles one man’s devotion to his wife over the course of decades of #marriage, children, birthdays, stories, tests, promises, foibles, delights, treks, and sacraments. In #poems effusive and spare, sacred and mundane, formal and free, this collection does what the poet Richard Hugo once suggested #poetry should do: run the risk of sentimentality without becoming overly sentimental. These poems devote themselves to that line of feeling, knowing when to veer away from it, when to hold it in check, and when to explore it in every way.

Mark D. Bennion teaches writing and literature classes at Brigham Young University-Idaho. A Pushcart Prize nominee, Mark’s poems have appeared in Aethlon, Dappled Things, Sijo, Spiritus, Windhover, and other journals. He is the author of three previous collections of poetry: Psalm & Selah: a poetic journey through the Book of Mormon, Forsythia, and Beneath the Falls. He and his wife, Kristine, are raising their children in the Upper Snake River Valley.

PRAISE FOR Ambrosia: Love Poems by Mark D. Bennion

Mark Bennion writes a tribute to his wife, Kristine. Along the trail of his words, it isn’t long until The Song of Solomon comes to mind. “Come my beloved, let us go forth into the fields”—SS 7:11. But Bennion’s words are from a contemporary world. Finding her was “better / than a sideline pick-six / in the last two minutes of a title game.” Ambrosia is full of life and humor and travel to places with descriptive names— Great Falls, Cut Bank, Deer Lodge— and much fun and the importance of responsibility and the relief that such a life was found. Just listen to these words from the title poem— “But today I saw it, / raw and untutored, / purling and unrushed, // like the river steady / in its waves and offerings—” Yes, Bennion’s work cuts through the riverbanks with the steady life-stream of family and faith.

–Diane Glancy, Author of Island of the Innocent, a Consideration of the Book of Job, & Psalm to Whom(e)

“How can a poet write another love poem, much less a set of poems that chronicles love across decades? Mark Bennion’s answer is to give readers high-resolution moments from his journey with his wife—rafting, holding hands, reading to one another, massaging a charley horse in the night. In these poems we glimpse the complexity, confusion, and wonder of mutual love and commitment, each poem reminding us that love is stronger than death.”

–Nathaniel Lee Hansen, Editor of The Windhover

Please share/repost #flpauthor #preorder #AwesomeCoverArt #read #poems #literature #poetry

[terrence-silver]

Terry loves hugging beloved as much as they can because he loves them, but he’s also territorial and wants them to smell like him via his cologne. How would the different eras react to realizing that beloved also loves to the same to him too but with their perfume?

I think Terry in any era can be subtle and almost elegant in his approach (at first, anyway --- at first, Terry is always subtle and elegant about everything) of marking beloved through his scent relayed via excess commonplace, day-to-day affection (like constant hugging) keeping his body close to theirs and touching them as often as possible so they'd smell like his expensive cologne and so he'd, in equal measure smell like them because he wants to and because he needs to claim something theirs, even if it is their actual fragrance, natural or otherwise --- but he'd also go overboard at times, like let us say --- sniffing beloved’s underwear? Their attire? Used or otherwise?

Of course he goes overboard. It is Terry.

There's always that looming shadow of going overboard.

Becomes slightly more crass and almost vulgar at how he does it. Draping his sweaty Gi over beloved? Having them wear an article of his clothes or wrapping an oversized jacket (clearly smelling like him) over them almost as a quiet, tactical threat to others, warning them off? Mine. Stay out. Flat out having them utilize whatever perfume he himself uses and exclusively maintaining that habit for prolonged periods of time or always? Embracing them post-workout and rubbing himself all over them? Not allowing them to wash up after sex? Why would they? He wants to stay on their body as much as possible.

He amps up the pressure.

Started out with something as sweet as 'I want you to smell like me'.

Veered straight into 'Don't bathe after I cum on you. I forbid it.'

Don’t wash yourself for specific periods of time; I adore your aroma.

Hints of humiliation kink and controlling body autonomy in that one, yes. 

He relishes in it.

Can visualize Terry, on the downlow, going the route of an excessive, eccentric Billionaire and legitimately having a private perfume brewed with some aromatic tonic and his own sweat and blood combined in the mixture he commissions, designs and bottles especially for beloved’s private usage. Spray this on. It is legitimately him in substance. Terry if Terry was a chemical. The act of it is almost animalistic. Almost vampiric. It doesn't smell bad, but it definitely smells outlandish and perhaps, raw. Very...Terry, if that is at all possible. Hey, he can afford such ventures. He can afford anything.

Brushes it off as a romantic business venture.

An inside joke.

Roleplay. Kink.

All of which is true, in essence.

Beloved’s scent becomes a point of interest, fetishization, fascination, hyperfixation and obsession and furthermore, the same is true for how people who are allowed to interact with beloved in curated, controlled periods react to that smell; Terry will effectively Pavlov the public. Bit by bit. Beloved always smells a certain way, so unique and unforgettable, the same way Terry smells, that people inherently connect the two in their heads because Terry trains them to. It is miniscule. Almost meaningless. Something futile about getting people accustomed to a certain scent. Not to Terry, though. To Terry that is everything. He flat out pushes the conversation in that direction so it wouldn’t be bypassed or ignored, getting off on the perverse, controlling exhibition of it all. The topic of what beloved smells like; brought up when and how he allows it, disguised as polite small-talk. Oh? You like that one, Reggie? Does your wife Melinda like it too? Perfect. Of course she may sniff beloved’s wrist briefly (before I dismiss you both) while I count down the seconds in my head, preoccupied with the two nanoseconds she spends touching beloved. I allow it, he’d say, maintaining firm, unflinching eye contact followed by a slasher smile because he planned on this. Yes, we use the same perfume, how could you tell? You two don’t? Aren’t you in love? We are. 

We love each other so much.

Actually, doesn’t even need to say that; people can already tell.

People can sense (and smell) the intensity and keep a polite distance.

Especially from beloved, yes.

For all his social posturing, self-control and understanding of how to dance the dance of interaction immaculately, bordering on fronting and being a human chameleon, I legitimately think he becomes doubly creepy, for the lack of a better word, when he’s in love. Just says and does the darnedest, creepiest things.

[ingravinoveritas]

Hiya, have you had a chance to listen to that Alan Carr podcast? It's hilarious but also some interesting tidbits in there. He never mentions AL (or DT for that matter) and even says at one point he'd be sitting ALL ALONE in that house in Maine if he had bought it. Like wait, don't you have a partner and kid? By the way, that he calls AL partner is another thing I've been thinking about a lot. She's always that, never girlfriend. His ex is referred to as girlfriend, in the past he seems to have

Hi there! Yes indeed, I did listen to Michael’s appearance on Alan Carr’s podcast, and meant to respond to your query sooner, but it got away from me with all the OMGery of the five zillion other podcasts Michael did in the last week. So for those who haven’t heard it yet, you can listen to the podcast here.

It is absolutely a delightful podcast, and Michael does sound like he is having a blast, what with all of the laughing and giggling he and Alan are doing. One of the highlights for me has to be Alan commenting on Michael wearing tight, white shorts in Last Train to Christmas, and basically how delectable Michael’s legs looked. (Alan is officially all of us. Bless him...)

I also noticed what you mentioned, too. Alan asked Michael where the most romantic places he likes to go on vacation are. He initially mentioned Paris, but then was talking about preferring a snowy/cold vacation over a hot place (which of course made me think of what Simon said about the ending of Staged 2 and Michael and David having a kiss in the snow in Central Park, because...um, hello. Haha).

But then Michael talked about how much he loves to go to a cabin by a lake in Maine, and said that he nearly bought a cabin there years ago, on a remotely island off the coast that is only accessible by boat. He said how relieved he was that he hadn’t bought the cabin, and added like "If I had gotten it, I'd be up there alone, in a cabin, snowed in, with my boat to keep me company." So it is certainly curious that he’d see himself as being alone in said cabin, rather than with Anna (or anyone, for that matter).

What was really interesting to me, though, was another direction in which the answer to this question veered off:

Alan: “Where do you go for romantic times?” Michael: “Bathroom, mostly. These days.”

I mean...damn, Michael. He had ample opportunity and context in both prongs of that question to mention AL or doing various romantic things with her, especially given that they were in St. Lucia(!) earlier this year for quarantine. Instead, he talked about being alone in a cabin in Maine and (presumably, at least how I interpreted it) alone in the bathroom for “romantic times.” Ouch.

The thing is, all of the above possibly wouldn’t even be that weird if it weren’t for the plethora of other interviews and podcasts Michael has done recently. Prior to Christmas, he was on Alan’s show (as detailed above) and didn’t talk about AL, but also did an interview on The Sunday Times where he very quickly mumbled that she is his girlfriend (to where you would’ve missed him saying it if you weren’t paying attention), but still didn’t mention that she is in the Christmas movie. On Christmas Eve, Michael was on BBC Manchester being asked what he got David for Christmas and making it sound like they are married/going all soft at the end. Then on BBC Radio Wales on Christmas Day, David says “Merry Christmas” in Welsh and Michael calls David by a Welsh pet name that just happens to mean “Beloved.” But two days later, on the 27th, he actually called a picture of him and AL “cursed”:

...And then ONE day later (the 28th), he responds to a tweet from Georgia basically calling him David’s second wife and makes a movie reference that clearly shows him identifying as a main spouse/partner rather than a side piece.

I mean, the optics of all this are REALLY interesting, to say the least. And of course, things could certainly look or sound one way in interviews and be something entirely different in reality, but I think all of this does give us an idea of Michael’s mental state at the moment, and it is certainly curious. 

(Also, I’ve received anons in the past about Michael’s use of “partner” and that for some people, it isn’t detached or less romantic than other relationship descriptors. For me, though, the giveaway is the fact that Michael actually has called AL his girlfriend a few times, but his voice never changes when he does, in sharp contrast to when he talks about David and his voices gets lower and softer.)

So yes, those are my thoughts on the Alan Carr interview that you asked about. I hope folks do give it a listen when they have a chance, because it is always a joy to hear Michael sounding so happy. Thank you for writing in! x

[megan-is-mia]

Same person just on anon now 6. For vampire vil btw if I'm requesting too much feel free to notify me and forget doing the requests I made. I love your work and I only have one more request in my head to get out

6. “Beauty like yours doesn’t deserve to wilt and die like a flower, it should be as pure and untouchable like that of a diamond” (Yandere! Vil Schoenheit x Fem! S/o)

Having her wedding crashed and her groom killed by a jealous vampire was not how (Y/n) had expected her day to go. However that's exactly what happened, and she had the numerous blood splatters on her beautiful white dress to prove it. It had all happened so fast, one moment she’d been speaking her vows to her beloved. The next she was being sprayed with blood as her love’s stomach was ripped open. The last words he spoke to her were to run which she obediently did, veering into the forest nearby uncaring of how disheveled she looked. Unfortunately, she was not alone in the woods, for the vampire who had taken her groom’s life had not been satisfied with his death. Oh no, now he turned his gaze to her and chased her through the woods with the ease of a wolf chasing a frightened deer. (Y/n) struggled to keep herself moving, her dress was heavy and the shoes she wore were not made for extensive motion. So she came to a stop kicking off her shoes and trying to rip the top and most heavy layer of the dress off. “Don’t do that, that dress suits you so well even drenched in the blood of that foolish mortal” the vampire said catching up to her with ease and grabbing her wrists before she could make any headway with ripping the fabric in her hands. “You’re trembling like a rabbit, why? You aren’t afraid of me are you?” he added releasing her wrists so he could instead hold her hands and entwine their fingers. “I’m sorry about how messy I was, I lost control for a moment and didn't make a clean kill” he continued bringing one of (Y/n)’s hands to his lips so he could kiss it.

“Where are my manners? I haven't even introduced myself to my lovely bride-to-be. I am Vil Schoenheit, the vampire lord of these lands and your soon-to-be husband” the vampire said between placing kisses on each of (Y/n)’s knuckles. “I swear that I will love you more faithfully than any mortal ever could. All that I ask in return is that you pledge yourself to me and promise to be just as faithful to me” Vil said softly gazing affectionately at (Y/n) who was at a loss for words at this moment. “Why? Why me?” (Y/n) eventually stuttered out with great difficulty, her mind awhirl trying to piece together how a vampire could choose her out of all others to be his wife. “Beauty like yours doesn’t deserve to wilt and die like a flower, it should be as pure and untouchable like that of a diamond. I wish to be the one to bring you to that diamond-like state by first making you my wife and then turning you after our honeymoon” Vil replied letting go of (Y/n)’s hand so he could cup her cheek and kiss her lips. “Now, I’m going to carry you back to town, we’ll have our little wedding ceremony, and then I promise to take you home” Vil said softly as he pulled back from the kiss. “All you need to do is walk down the aisle and say I do after our vows. Can you do that for me darling?” he added before giving (Y/n) an intense look. She frantically nodded, for what else could she do? She was no match for this lovesick vampire and cowardly as it was, she wanted to live to see another day. By nightfall, she’d be married to a man who’d love her for eternity…

THE END

[tellywoodtrash]

Hi TTji, here I am with more TV digest. SP: MHRW - Amma replaced by new actor with HECK LOT foundation to 'darken' her and Raghav is TPDBD. Same plot (luck again FL, ML taking badla, FL turns innocent, ML being savior) in a loop. YRKKH - Sensible for time being. Sirat's ex is in picture. Kartik & Sirat have healthy convos. Obv Rhea is dying to break the marriage and grab most wanted Munda for herself. SNS - Most sensible leads as of yet? The show still remembers she wants education??? [1/4]

Aksjdlsakjdlskajdlskajldkjslj TPDBD has truly entered myyyyy daily vocabulary as well. It’s such an amazingggggg acronymmmm. Fitteh muh on these fucking ppl who can’t just hire one actual dark skinned actress. I hate this show without even watching it because of everything it stands for. It offends me on a personal level. 🤬🤬🤬

Ofc YRKKH mein abhi bhi shaadi ka silsila jaari hi hai. Ouff, India ke wedding industry ko iss ek hi couple ne kaayam rakha hua hai. 🤑🤑🤑

SNS ke baare mein I never cared, and I never will. 🤷🏽‍♀️🤷🏽‍♀️🤷🏽‍♀️

YHC - Not Chaahat, only mystery and horror like Aahat. FL attempting to expose villains but ML blind cuz it's his true mum and step bro. Anu - Overdramatically yet sensibly depicting divorce and it's ripple effects on fam (kisses for healthy maa-beta & saas-bahu jodi). SM - Preeti is replaced by Nupur from MJHT.  KT pretends to be good friend Keertan and shitty rich dude KT to Nu-*cough* Mohi/Preeti. Idk abt the kids. Imlie - Malini reacts normally seeing Imlie wear her sindoor. Finally [2/4] 

NO CHAAHAT, ONLY AAHAT 🤣🤣🤣

Anupama, SM, aur Imlie reiterating the life lesson ki pyaari beheno, zindagi mein kuch bhi karo, parrr shaadi mat karo, saaaaalon tak siyaapa hi siyaapa hai. Just be single, have awesome friends and pets, aur mazze ke life jiyo.

SAAKK - FL thinks ML in love with ex. ML clears the air, tells *cough* yells I LOVE YOU DAMNIT *oh wait that was another show* but same and FL is like WOAH. PANDYA - No one realises the DISASTER getting FL forcibly married to her beloved's brother (who marries his own lover) cuz now she gotta live in the same house with her beloved but as his bhabhi? ANNS - The  blind ML has been the most aware ML in ITV history. Understands to-be-wife being slighted and flips shit! Next is Zee, Sony & Colors 

SAAKK ki incredibly cute FL is stuck in such a michmichi-inducing (for me) show ke mera dillllllllllllll dukhta hai. Koi isko aur GHKPM ke Sai ko bas foreign bhej do where they can do padhaai and become their best selves without being distracted by boy troubles. Sahi kehte hain desi maa-baap, padhai ke waqt ladkon ke chakkaron mein nahi padna chahiye, warna poori zindagi kharaab ho jaati hai. Abhi dekh bhi liya.

Pandya mein seeing Sonakshi from KHKT ki bitchy choti behen be one abla bechaari, and Nazar show waali achchi behen being a hellraising chantomayi is giving me whiplash. Beech mein bechaare bhaiyya-bhaabi jabaran phasein, who kinda deserve it coz honestly wtf were they thinking forcing this bloody shaadi no one wanted. 🙄🙄🙄

ANNS ka hero is wholesome bean but ouff the FL’s family (???? is it even her family? Or her sister’s sasuraal or some shit in which case, phew.) Anyway kaafi off-brand Gauri Kumari Sharma vibes mil rahe mujhe FL se toh I can’t somehow get into it yet. 😐😐😐

ZEE. Kumkum - Pragya asking fam members to help her (Abhi in jail) Rhea (the twin who hates Pragya) agrees. Kundali - Preeta has her hair perfect in jail while ML tries to fix shit. Jindri - Locking wife in room is the new way of showing love. Katti Batti - shit show from promo so no info (total biwi#1 when she should be dumping his dumb ass). Rest IDK, the plots above my head. SONY. 7 1/2 - The show has bad prod quality for some reason. Not watching. (need more space for next so see you in #5) 

Yeh poora ka poora ZEE channel hi nahi chahiye mereko. Nothing on it has appealed to me since Qubool Hai and I highly doubt anything ever will. Bleargh. 🤢🤢🤢

Yeh 7 1/2 kaunsa show hai Sony pe??????? 🤔🤔🤔

KUDCA - FL runs away from marrying Veer. He hires fake bride (turns out it is FL who was briefly reunited with her bff who is now kothewaali). COLORS. Namak - Always abusive ML (can't act) now in love with FL (can act) and his family is shitty, as usual. Pinjra - Makers pulled a Main Na Bhoolungi. SSK - archaic shit is back. Shakti - ML post plastic surgery trying to convince FL that he is ML. Fans hate new actor btw. BB - Kid topped, so going to hostel? Bawara Dil - TOXIC SHIT!!! Love, Baby J

KUDCA ka main kya hi boloon, whole thing sounds like a clusterfuck.

Namak is such a weird mindfuck of a show, beech mein kuch kaala jaadoo type bhi hain. ML nafrat se pyaar tak pohunch gaya lekin majaal ho jo uske chehre pe shikan tak aaye. Someone explain to me why that Nazar waali daayan ki character is the mom to two of the ladies (who are easily in their 30s, yet mummy looks younger......... Must be all the kaala jaadoo), but everyone calls her didi, including her daughters??? Also why do these two families live together???? Why does this show exist in general??????////

Pinjra waali shaayad na bhoolegi but I sure forgot this show exists. Thank god for my brain just filtering out the info it doesn’t want and being like sorry 404, page not found. Saves me a lot of rage.

SSK mein I just need to know what new species Simar (or choti Simar, or whoever) is gonna metamorphize  into. May I suggest a cow, since that’s the only animal that gets any respect and protection in this country these days.

The way I gaspeddddddddddddddd when I saw OG Anurag Basu backkkkkkkkkk??????// Bhai is on what virgin-blood-drinking regimen ki he still looks exact same???? Sir pls to share sekrits.

Bawara Dil - First I’m ever hearing of this show, and thus, I really dgaf.

[theliterateape]

The Artistic Subtlety of “Pig” and Nicolas Cage

By Brett Dworski

I knew what I was getting into after seeing the trailer for Pig. The plot seemed pretty straightforward: A guy living alone in the wilderness loses his beloved truffle pig and will slaughter everyone and everything that stands in his way in getting her back. That guy was Nicholas Cage, and this was going to be a classic bloodbath peppered with Cage’s standard erraticism and hysteria. I knew it. I felt it. This was going to be National Treasure all over again (ew), but with a John Wick type of feel.

I texted my friend, Adam, who appreciates the Cagester more than me. “We’ve got to see this,” I said, basically wanting to see it to mock Cage. We did. And when it ended, I was stunned. It was nothing like I expected. No hazardous car chases. No deathly shootouts. No exaggerations. Just a lonely man looking for his pig. It was, simply put, sensational.

Pig, the directorial debut from newcomer Michael Sarnoski, is elegant, riveting and poignant. While thrilling like many Cage movies, this indie flick veers from the actor’s usual blockbusters and finds the fifty-seven-year-old star in an unfamiliar state: subtlety. Despite my adoration of early-Cage hits Moonstruck and Raising Arizona, I’ve never loved the guy; his branded excessiveness just isn’t for me. But Cage’s performance as former chef Rob Feld in Pig blew me away. He ditched his obnoxious schtick for an elusive and quiet, yet extremely physical performance. Cage was spectacular, and I don’t think it’s a stretch to say it’s the best performance I’ve ever seen from him.

Sarnoski depicts Feld as a man of calm intensity. He doesn’t speak often, but when he does, people listen. Feld is a purist; he knows what he likes, and especially knows what he doesn’t. He lives in isolation, as we discover early on that he’s been alone in the woods of Portland for fifteen years. We also learn that he’s a widower, and while we never discover how his wife passed, it doesn’t matter.

What does matter is Feld’s pig, with whom he has a beautiful connection. We see this from the get-go, specifically in a heartwarming moment when the pig comforts a sad Feld while he reminisces about his wife. Although Feld says it near the film’s end, we know right away: He doesn’t need the pig to find the truffles—he’s already got that covered. He keeps the pig around because he loves her. It’s a touching bond that churns our intestines once broken.

In addition to Feld’s relationship with the pig, we’re immediately drawn to his connection with Amir, the douchey twenty-something who buys Feld’s truffles and sells them to fancy restaurants. Alex Wolff is splendid as the dick you can’t seem to hate no matter how much he flaunts his European sports car and his expensive suits. As the film progresses, we see a warmer side to Amir, who becomes just as driven to find the pig as Feld is, resulting in the two becoming more than just truffle acquaintances. Their bickering and earned respect is kind of like a buddy-cop relationship, but not really.

 Panning outside the plot, Pig captures the pretentious hunt for rave reviews and fame within fine dining. After Feld and Amir learn that one of Feld’s former prep cooks, Derek—who was fired after two months for overcooking pasta—may know the pig’s whereabouts, they visit his new upscale restaurant. Upon realizing who the battered and grizzly Feld is, Derek is anxious and uncomfortable when asked about the pig. After Derek plays dumb, Feld sits back and, instead of pressing about the pig, asks about the English pub Derek wanted to open years back. “People have expectations. Critics, investors, and so forth,” Derek says with red cheeks and buggy eyes. “Everyone loves it here—it’s cutting edge!” Derek lays justification after justification for sacrificing his dream for Michelin stars, yet when Feld asks him to recall his intended signature dish for the pub, Derek remorsefully and robotically recites the liver scotch eggs with a honey curry mustard.

“They’re not real—you get that, right? None of it is real,” Feld says. “The critics aren’t real. The customers aren’t real. Because this isn’t real. You aren’t real. Everyday you’ll wake up and there’ll be less of you. You live your life for them, and you don’t even see them. You don’t even see yourself.”

Derek, on the verge of a panic attack, folds. He tells Feld who has the pig. Amir’s jaw hilariously drops to the floor, mesmerized by Feld’s philosophical rant. It’s a powerful and funny ending to the best scene in the film.

Beyond its writing and acting achievements, Pig is a technical success as well. When the intruders burst into Feld’s wilderness home and steal the pig late at night, we’re stuck in the dark, only seeing Feld’s head smashed in as we follow him to the floor. We lay there with him and hear chaos in the background, including the thieves’ fuzzy chatter and the pig’s piercing squeal. Our eyes are only on Feld, yet we know exactly what’s happening around him. This strategy is also used in the film’s final minutes and climax, except this time the sound is removed and our eyes relay the story to our brains. It’s here that Cage’s textbook physically takes over: We know exactly what has happened despite not hearing a single peep. Although removing the audiences’ senses can be risky, Sarnoski’s meticulous approach pays dividends in these moments.

At the heart of Pig is the story of a man who, despite losing everything he loves, comes to terms with himself and the world. It’s a powerful debut from Sarnoski, who’s become a must-watch filmmaker moving forward. It’s another hit performance from Wolff, who’s continued a ridiculous run of starring in basically every indie thriller since Ari Aster’s 2018 hit, Hereditary. Finally, it’s a divergent and excellent showcase from Cage, who seems to be remodeling his game as his career moves into the twilight phase. It’s far from the Cage of National Treasure, and I’m all for it.

[todisturbtheuniverse]

FIC: Set All Trappings Aside [9/9] - COMPLETE

Rating: T Fandom: Dragon Age: Inquisition Pairing: f!Adaar/Josephine Montilyet Tags: Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Class Differences Word Count: 3500 (this chapter) Summary: After months of flirtation, a contract on Josephine’s life brings Adaar’s feelings for her closer to the surface than ever. It highlights, too, all of their differences, all of the reasons a relationship between them would not last. But Adaar is a hopeful woman at heart; if Josephine can set all trappings aside, then so can she. Also on AO3. Notes: While the context for this story is the Of Somewhat Fallen Fortune questline, some of the conversations within it didn’t quite fit for this Inquisitor. The resulting fic is a twist on the canon romance. This Adaar and Josephine have featured in other fics, so you may miss a little context if you haven’t read Promising or Truth-Telling, which both come before this one.

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

It was a good party, but Adaar's mood just wasn't right for it.

She'd drunk enough to set her stomach churning, enough to dull the pain of her superficial wounds, but not enough to muddle her head. No, that seemed dangerous. Everyone in the village, even Hammond, swore up and down that all of Koster's Carvers had been caught up in the tavern and outside of it—but maybe they were mistaken. A cruel voice in the back of her head whispered, Or maybe they're lying. 

She wanted to believe that becoming Inquisitor had made her paranoid, but really, ever since that night in the cellar, ever since someone had taken a saw to one of her horns, it had been there, underlying. Her current circumstances just...exacerbated it.

She didn't like to feel that she needed to watch her back when she came home. Made it feel like it wasn't home anymore.

Maybe it wasn't, little though she wanted to admit it. Before the hole in the sky, she'd returned once a year, maybe twice if the Valo-kas happened to be passing nearby. Was it really home if she spent only a handful of nights there every year? Or was it just a place she went to visit ghosts, ghosts who'd taken home with them when they went?

She made her way down the narrow path in the dark, putting the party at her back: Hammond, merrily passing out the local brew, espousing its virtues to Cassandra; Harriet, playing a jig on the accordion, Dorian and Bull in the midst of the dancing crowd, red with laughter; Marguerite and Wilfred and Lonnie, gathered around a card table, groaning as Josephine took another round with a look of polite glee. Josephine, drinking Hammond's beer like she didn't mind the taste. Josephine, catching Adaar's eye above the heads of the dancers...

There would be time for that. Soon.

She kept the lantern she carried shuttered, unwilling to ruin her night vision, and besides, she'd always liked the fields of Duskfield under the stars. It was a far cry from Skyhold, that was for sure. You could see Skyhold burning miles off, up there in the mountain ahead of you; if she turned back now, the fires of the celebration would already be nearly out of sight. Only the Dancing Star would remain.

She came to the turnstile. Her father's handwriting had faded with the sun, and she hadn't re-inked it in a long while—hadn't had the chance or the time. She trailed her fingers over the word they'd brought with them from Par Vollen, the word that had failed so bitterly in its duty of care to define them, the word she carried. She walked on. 

The house, merely a dark, empty shape among a missing piece of the field, came into view. Every time she returned, she found herself surprised by its size, by the idea that she and two others had fit there. It seemed desperately small now, compared to the world she'd walked, putting holes in her boots.

She veered away, off into the field on the left. The house would be there, when she was ready. But the ghosts could not wait another minute.

Through the waving grains, toward the tree that stood stark and twisted against the starry sky, oddly bleached in the moonlight. The field parted to the little clearing, its careful rock formations intact. She released a breath. Jana had kept care of this place. Even the bench beneath the tree only had a few dead leaves; Adaar carefully brushed them aside.

But she didn't sit on the bench. She stood before the gravemarkers instead, letting a little more light from the lantern out, the better to see.

Hammond had helped her carve them. He'd taken the chisel from her whenever she'd wept too bitterly to continue. Silently offered her a handkerchief when she was ready to press on. She'd seen a few tears sneak down his old face in those hours of labor, too. She'd felt, fiercely, that her parents had been loved—that she had been loved.

"This doesn't change that," she said aloud, though no one was there to hear her. "I know it doesn't. I know that's what you would say. I just wish you were here to say it, dammit." She drew a shaky breath. "Where are my manners? Hi, Ma. Hi, Dad. You would never believe what's happened to me, and I don't think I could explain it if I tried. I just want to sit with you for a while, if you don't mind."

She put the lantern on the ground beside her when she sat. The low breeze rustled in the tree's leaves, in the grain. Here, so far from everything, she could almost believe the world was the same as it had always been, that these past few months had not happened at all. It was unchanged, here, where she'd written Beloved Husband, Beloved Father; Beloved Wife, Beloved Mother on the stones. She was unchanged.

"I'll skip all the nonsense," she said, when she'd been quiet long enough to regain her composure. "But help me get this piece right in my head. I've met someone. She's...hmm. She's not what you'd expect, I think. As different from me as it is possible to be. But she's also brave, and clever, and kind. I think you'd like her." She paused, tipping her head back to let the breeze catch her hair, ruffling up her hair like her father's hand, like her mother's kiss. "I like her. But I'm afraid of her." 

With the words out in the open like that, they seemed very silly. She snorted. "I know it's stupid. But...hell, you both must have been afraid, right? You loved each other so much that you left everything else you knew. Sacrificed everything else you'd ever known. Each of your societies, and your collective society, combined. And you were happy. I saw it. I felt it." She drew a deep, shuddering breath. "I don't know if it's going to work out the same way for me, but you were right. What's life without a little risk, once in a while? And besides, I think...I think it might be time for me to move my roots somewhere else. For there to be a somewhere else for my roots to go. If there's a somewhere else left, after all my nonsense is through, anyway."

She brushed her fingers over the grave markers, over the words. They weren't here. Of course they weren't. They weren't sleeping forever in the dirt beneath her. Their ashes had been flung wide across these fields, over the place they'd chosen. It was the only place that had made sense to her. Give them back to the earth that had known such love, such care, from their hands.

They weren't here. But she felt them, anyway. The sharp edges of memory had faded, and she knew they would continue to crumble, but even when everything was out of focus, someday, she would still know them. Would know, always, what they wanted for her.

"You dreamed of bigger things," she said, her throat tight. "Guess I got it from somewhere, huh?"

Heartsore but decided, she stayed there, beside the markers, watching the stars, thinking. She wondered if they'd gone through this part, too. If, even when they'd decided, they'd been terrified out of their minds.

Probably. Probably they'd stayed scared for a long time. But it had been worth it.

She'd been there an hour, sore and tired and a little chilled, before she heard a voice call softly in the distance, "Adaar?"

Her heart spasmed painfully. She sat up a little from where she'd been slouched against the bench. The voice came again, closer this time, but the word had changed: "Herah? Are you out here?"

She steadied herself and called back, "Over here." She raised a hand, high enough to be seen above the grain in the slight glow of the lantern light, and waved.

Josephine emerged into the clearing, blinking a little; she carried her own lantern, but almost entirely shuttered, like Adaar's had been. She'd taken her hair out of all of its elaborate braids so that it fell, loose with waves, around her shoulders. There was a worried twist to her mouth, and Adaar felt a surge of guilt; she really ought to have told someone, anyone, that she was slipping away.

"Hammond told me you were probably out this way," Josephine said. Her eyes found the markers. "If I'm intruding—"

"Nah." Adaar waved this off. "I've been moping out here long enough. They'd want me to pull myself together."

Josephine offered a tentative smile, and sat on the ground, tucking her skirts beneath her, not terribly near Adaar but not terribly far, either. "I've never known you to mope."

"I wisely do it out of sight of other people, for the benefit of all." 

Josephine tilted her head a bit to one side. "Except you."

Adaar released a startled laugh. "How do you figure?"

Josephine looked to the markers, her eyes passing slowly over the letters. "If you mope alone, you have no one to comfort you."

"I suppose I'll have to carry on, then," Adaar said, "since you're here to comfort me."

Josephine gave her own breathless laugh, and offered her hand out, across the small distance between them. Adaar took it, intertwining their fingers.

Josephine looked up to the tree's canopy. "This is the oak?"

"Yes," Adaar said, unable to conceal how pleased she was that Josephine had remembered. "They added the bench, not long after they arrived. It felt like the right place for them, after they died. Sometimes, when I was a child, I'd wake up in the middle of the night, and I'd see this glow in the distance, beneath the tree."

"It sounds as if they truly loved one another." Adaar did not think she was imagining the wistfulness in Josephine's voice.

"It was embarrassing to me, back then. Now, I—I see how precious it was, what they had."

Josephine nodded, but didn't say anything more. They sat in a comfortable quiet for a little while; Josephine turned her face into the breeze now and then. The cozy, combined glow of their lanterns created a little pocket in this clearing, as if the rest of the world was held at bay by the shine, just for a little while. A secret, away from everything.

Adaar touched her father's gravemarker one more time, silently asking to borrow his courage. "Want to see the house?" she asked Josephine.

Josephine's face brightened. Surely she'd seen the shape of it as she'd walked past, searching for Adaar. Surely she knew it was nothing special. But she said, "Of course," as though delighted at the prospect.

Adaar got to her feet first, then helped Josephine up. They picked up their lanterns and moved away, back toward the path. As they walked, the backs of their hands brushed; Adaar took Josephine's hand this time, and she didn't pull away.

"Jana built her own place, a little further down the road," Adaar said, and pointed with her lantern past the closer house. Barely visible in the dark was another huddled shape among the fields. "She stayed in my parents' house, at first, but I think it felt too strange to her. Like I would have felt to keep living there, almost."

"Among memories," Josephine said.

"Right. But she comes through every month or so, dusts, airs the place out. I was never able to give much notice before I passed through."

"She wanted you to have a place to come back to."

"Yes," Adaar said, and left it at that.

They'd reached the clearing, the yard; together, they stood before the darkened house. She hesitated, but only for an instant.

"Come see," she said, leading the way toward the door.

The inside was much as it had always been: there, the humble kitchen off to the right with its hearth, shutters closed tight over the windows; there, the old armchair her mother had once sat in to darn socks, where she'd nursed her newborn child; there, the door to a passageway that could barely be called a hall, and two more doors at the end of it, leading to the two bedrooms. One—Adaar's—had been an addition to the original house, built by her parents. Jana and some of the other villagers had helped.

Despite the frequent airing, it still had the faint scent of misuse, of absence. It had always smelled of something delicious, a warm crackling fire, the spring breeze, when her parents had lived. Now it seemed a painful, empty shell.

There was a faint creak; she startled and looked around. Josephine moved systematically shutter to shutter, throwing them open. The night air drifted in, chasing away the stillness of neglect. Josephine leaned against one windowsill with a sigh, the breeze tugging at her hair.

"It's peaceful," she said over her shoulder. "A good place to grow up."

"It was," Adaar agreed, putting her lantern down on the kitchen table beside Josephine's. "Not…not magnificent, or anything, but still good."

Josephine turned to face her with a frown. "Not everything needs to be magnificent."

"Peace." Adaar shifted uneasily. "I know."

Josephine leaned back against the windowsill, her expression softening a little. "What's troubling you, Herah?"

A little of Adaar's anxiety melted away at that gentle voice, speaking her name. She took in a low breath. "You were right," she said. "I was afraid. I am afraid."

Josephine took a hesitant step closer. "Of what?"

"Oh, lots of stupid things." Adaar rubbed at her forehead. "That your family won't approve. That people will make snide remarks to you. That you'll have to work harder to extract what we need from our allies. That it will all add up, in the end, and we'll see that this was doomed from the start, and have only bitterness left for each other."

"Small worries," Josephine said, teasing but not dismissive. "Do not doom us before we've even had the chance to begin."

"You really don't worry about that? Any of it?"

"I can refute your points one by one, if you like."

Adaar gestured for her to go on. "Convince me, Ambassador."

She liked the coy little smile that came onto Josephine's face at those words. It was wonderfully distracting.

"My family, whenever we choose to make public declarations, will be all astonishment," she said thoughtfully. "Scandalized, but delighted. I've always been the pragmatic daughter, with no tendency toward feelings or frivolities. It will be such a relief to them that they'll hardly register who I have chosen, and when they do, they'll fall over themselves thanking you."

Adaar couldn't help but chuckle. Josephine smiled a little wider and continued.

"I have no fear of snide remarks. Frankly, the topics for condescension have been a little stale lately; perhaps this will liven them up. Besides, I have an arsenal of my own. I'm always looking for an excuse to use them. As for our allies...well, turnabout is fair play. They are hiding plenty of things that they think are salacious. I'm not above leaning on those secrets a little harder."

"You make interesting points," Adaar allowed. "And these?"

She unsheathed her daggers, dropping them one by one to the kitchen table. Josephine came forward, stopping just short of Adaar. Lightly, she touched one blade.

"You saved my life with these," she said softly. "You use them to great effect, never without thought, usually in the name of protecting others. But you have not fooled me into thinking they define you. They are only a part of you."

She looked up at Adaar; Adaar looked back, torn, wanting.

"That's the thing," she said. "It used to be simple, and now it's hideously complicated. If I went back to the Valo-kas, I wouldn't fit. Even coming back here, I don't fit. And I don't think I've quite made the leap to your world, either."

"And you don't need to. There is no my world. I do not have the authority to offer you something so abstract. There is just me. For now—to start—I would just ask you for a little time."

Josephine slipped a hand into the pocket of her dress, withdrawing a small, beautiful wooden box, polished to a high shine; even the golden hinges gleamed. She took Adaar's hand, turned it palm-up, and placed the box there. It fit neatly.

"What's this?" Adaar asked, momentarily thrown.

"A gift." Adaar got the feeling that Josephine had bitten her tongue on, Obviously.

"What for?"

She actually rolled her eyes, contrast to her fond smile. "As if you've ever made an excuse for the trinkets you give to me." At Adaar's raised brows, she huffed and said, "Very well, it is technically thanks for helping me with the House of Repose. In reality, though, I commissioned it as soon as you showed me the sketch."

"The sketch?" Adaar repeated, completely bemused now. "What sketch?"

"Open it and see."

Careful not to leave any marks in the varnish, Adaar opened the box. Nestled on a bed of dark green velvet was a delicate hourglass, gleaming in the faint light.

"I'm afraid I could only replicate one of the materials closely," Josephine said. Adaar lifted the dainty golden chain with numb fingers. "Wood, from a tree in Antiva. On the Montilyet estate, in fact. I'm certain it's not the same tree, but based on the sketch and the notes, I believe it's the same species."

Adaar could not have replied even if she'd known what to say; her tongue, usually so given to trip ahead of her thoughts, lay useless in her mouth. All the hair on her neck, her arms, stood on end. A ghost had walked right through her.

"And the gold your father used," Josephine continued, "that, of course, is irreplaceable, but the Valo-kas donated some for the purpose. The sand...Par Vollen is well out of even my reach, but I had some gathered on the shores of Haven. I remember…" Here, at last, she hesitated. "You seemed at home there. More so than in Skyhold. I thought you might like to carry it with you."

"You had the sketch in your hand for all of a moment," Adaar said, finding her voice at last. "How did you...it looks just like…"

"I have a good memory," Josephine said, with a modest smile. 

"I…" Adaar shook her head. "I don't know what to say."

"I have achieved the impossible. Herah Adaar, speechless." Some of Josephine's delight faded. "I hope I haven't overstepped. You do like it?"

Adaar held the hourglass out to Josephine. "Help me put it on?"

Josephine took it, plainly relieved. With deft fingers, she loosed the clasp, then fastened the chain around Adaar's neck; Adaar could feel her breath, just briefly, against her skin. She arranged the hourglass carefully, letting it fall into the V of Adaar's shirt, a little cool against her skin.

"I don't know how I'll ever repay you," Adaar said hoarsely.

"There is nothing to repay. This is a gift without strings. Though perhaps it lends a little weight to my request." Finally, Josephine's voice showed her nerves; it trembled a little. "I only ask for the next turn of the hourglass. That you set aside what you think might come, what might happen. Be with me, and when the sand runs out again, we will take stock of where we stand. Please?"

Adaar scraped a hand through her hair, driving the loose strands back from her face. "As we've established already, I can't say no to you."

Josephine's eyes gleamed. "That's not the same as saying yes."

There was not so much distance left between them now; Josephine had worked at it, chipping away right under Adaar's nose. The last of it fell away as she cupped Josephine's chin in her hand and bent her head to press her lips to Josephine's.

There had been a desperation, a stolen quality, to those other kisses—like a woman taking panicked gulps from the paltry spring she'd found in the desert, afraid that she would never drink again. But this was another thing entirely, a slow delight, something to be savored. She took her time, teased apart Josephine's lips with aching slowness, tangled her hand in Josephine's half-undone hair, lost herself in the sound of pleasure Josephine made in her throat.

When they parted, she drew just enough air to say, emphatically, "Yes."

Josephine did not wait for any further explanation; she, like Adaar, seemed to have decided that the time for conversation was past. She went up on tiptoe to kiss Adaar again, and Adaar picked her up to make it easier for her, arms tight around Josephine's waist. Josephine gave a breathless laugh of delight against her mouth. 

Adaar would still worry, she knew. But for now, she would set the trappings of fear aside. She would see where this turn of the hourglass took them.

[buzzdixonwriter]

Another Pointless Top Ten List (But You’ll Keep Reading, Anyway)

My brother Rikk recently mailed me another top ten list of his, in this instance being his top ten favorite TV comedy shows (which he defines as 30 minutes or less, no movies).

The Three Stooges

M*A*S*H

The Andry Griffith Show 

The Beverly Hillbillies

Hogan’s Heroes

I Love Lucy 

The Honeymooners 

All In The Family

Get Smart 

Gilligan’s Island

His honorable mentions include F Troop, The Patty Duke Show, My Three Sons, Gomer Pyle USMC, Batman, Petticoat Junction, Mr. Ed. Bewitched, and I Dream Of Jeanie.

Again, one of those personal favorite lists that you really can’t argue with because it reflects personal tastes and / or fond nostalgia (though I am calling shenanigans on The Three Stooges; they were theatrical shorts shown in movie theaters, not a TV show, and besides, Laurel & Hardy are soooooo much better…).

But of course we’re going to play the game, so I’ll respond, first throwing in a caveat:  No skit comedy shows such as Monty Python’s Flying Circus, The Marty Feldman Show, Benny Hill, Second City TV, The Kids In The Hall, or Love, American Style.

I’m also omitting programs like The Gong Show and Jackass because while hilarious and under 30 minutes, they weren’t scripted or story driven.

So here’s my list:

The Dick Van Dyke Show -- the sitcom art form at peak perfection.  Carl Reiner’s insight into what writing for a mercurial TV star is like (in his case, Sid Caesar on Your Show Of Shows, for Van Dyke’s Rob Petrie it was Carl Reiner as Alan Brady).  If you’ve never seen the show, start off with their two best episodes, “Coast To Coast Big Mouth” and “October Eve” (though they’re all good).  “October Eve” is the one where Sally (Rose Marie) finds a nude painting of Laura (Mary Tyler Moore playing Dick Van Dyke’s wife) in an art gallery.  SALLY:  “There’s a painting here you should know about.”  LAURA: “If it’s what I think it is, I can explain.”  SALLY:  “If you need to explain, it’s what you think it is.”

The Mary Tyler Moore Show – this is the first American novel for television.  It’s a novel of character, not plot, and it traces the growth of Mary Richards, a 30 year old woman-child who realizes she needs to grow up, as she blossoms into a mature, self-reliant adult.  You can select two episodes at random and by comparing her character growth determine not only which season they were filmed but when in that season.

I Love Lucy -- eking out a bronze medal for its longevity and pioneering of the art form.  The first sitcom shot on film, it led the way in the rerun market.  Not just a historical icon but consistently funny.

WKRP In Cincinnati -- as crazy as a sitcom could get and still be within the realm of plausibility.  Never loved by its network, they bounced it around for four seasons until it faded away (it made a syndicated comeback a decade later, of which we shall not speak).  Great supporting staff, dynamite writing.  While they never steered away from serious subject matters (such as an actual rock concert tragedy in Cincinnati where several fans were crushed when rushing the stage), they will be forever and justly remembered for the beloved “Turkey Drop” episode.

Fawlty Towers – only two seasons and a mere 12 episodes and yet more comedic bang for the buck than anything else on this list.  John Cleese as a frustrated, short-tempered, conniving hotelier practically writes itself.  SYBIL FAWLTY:  “You know what I’ll do if I find you’ve been gambling again, don’t you, Basil?”  BASIL:  “You’ll have to sew them back on first, m’dear.”

That Girl -- looking back it can sometimes be hard to judge just how groundbreaking certain shows were.  Marlo Thomas as a struggling young actress finding romance and success in Manhattan seems positively wholesome today, but in the mid-1960s it was considered quite daring and progressive.  The Mary Tyler Moore Show took their opening credits inspiration from Marlo Thomas’ character exploring Manhattan in the opening credits of That Girl.

He & She -- a one season wonder from 1967.  Another daring and progressive show for its era.  Richard Benjamin and Paula Prentiss played a young married couple, he being a cartoonist who drew a superhero strip (the actor playing the superhero on TV in the series was Jack Cassidy at his manic best).  Another show with a dynamite supporting cast…and just too hip for the room at the time (honorable mention to Love On A Rooftop, a similar show from the previous season that also proved too advanced for audiences at that time).  

Green Acres -- started out silly but quickly took a turn into the surreal, breaking the fourth wall, commenting on the opening credits as they ran by, all sorts of oddball stuff.  Dismissed as a hayseed comedy, the truth is the supporting cast possessed dynamite comedic chops and their sense of timing is a joy to behold.  Forms a loose trilogy with The Beverly Hillbillies and Petticoat Junction since all three referenced the same small towns of Hooterville and Pixley  as well as occasional crossovers (honorable mention to the first season of Petticoat Junction which is as pure an example of Americana as one could hope to find and could easily be distilled into a feature film remake).

The Young Ones -- another two season / twelve episode wonder from the UK.  Four stereotypical English college students go through increasing levels of insanity as the series progressed.  Unlike most shows of the era where there was no continuity episode to episode, damage done in an early episode would still be seen for the rest of the series.  (They also would simply end a show when they ran out of time, not resolving that episode’s plot.)  Their random / non sequitur style proved a tremendous influence on shows like Family Guy.

Fernwood 2 Nite / America 2-Nite -- a spin off from the faux soap opera Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman, this presented itself as a cable access variety show for Mary Hartman’s hometown of Fernwood.  With Martin Mull as the obnoxious host, Fred Willard as his incurably dense second banana, and TV theme song composer Frank De Vol as the band leader.  Because it’s so rooted in 1970s pop culture it doesn’t age as well as some other shows on the list, but many of the gags still land solidly today.  For the second season the show-within-a-show went nationwide and became America 2-Nite. Very funny, very well written, and all the more remarkable because these guys were doing five episodes a week!

Okay, so what can this list tell us?

Buzz is old.  Like really, really, really old.

Buzz stopped watching sitcoms in the mid-1980s.

There’s a reason for that.  By that time I was writing for TV and trying to get my own work done.  I didn’t have time to sit and watch TV on a regular basis (still don’t), and too often I could see the gears turning and guess where the episode was heading by the end of the first scene (still do).

I’ve veered away from “must watch” TV, especially shows that require the audience to keep track of what’s gone on before.

Tell me I have to see the first six seasons of a show to appreciate what happens in the seventh and you’ve just lost me as a potential viewer.  I’m strictly a one & done kinda guy now (though I will binge watch if a mini-series has a manageable number of episodes, say six).

My list represents a time capsule for what caught my interest and attention during a very formative period of my life, i.e., from the early 1960s as I became more and more aware that writing was where my future lay, to the mid-1980s when I hit a good peak stretch.

I don’t doubt there are great and wonderful hilarious comedies out there that I haven’t seen, I’m just listing what I have seen that did make an impression on me.

Your mileage may vary.*

    © Buzz Dixon

  *  It should vary!  Be your own person!

[incomprehensiblelentils]

Lentils’ 2020 Christmas Movie Rankings

My wife and I watched a lot of Christmas movies this year, and I thought it would be fun to rank them based on which ones I think were most watchable and enjoyable. I’ve left out a few that we watched during this time period, which are classic Christmas movies (Miracle on 34th Street), action movies set at Christmas (Kiss Kiss Bang Bang and Iron Man 3), or older romances set around Christmas (While You Were Sleeping and You’ve Got Mail), because it’s not fair to rank these amongst, well, some of the movies we saw.

my top 5, for those of you who don’t like reading (which is fair): The Princess Switch: Switched Again, Dashing in December, The Princess Switch, Jingle Jangle, Happiest Season.

my top 3 Chaotic Christmas Movies: A New York Christmas Wedding, 12 Pups of Christmas, The Princess Switch: Switched Again. Please watch these movies if you enjoy chaotic plots. Please especially watch the first two I listed because holy shit my summaries do not properly convey the chaos.

The Princess Switch: Switched Again (2020): Some people on the internet have been VERY RUDE about this movie and I’m sorry they don’t appreciate a true chaotic holiday gem when they see it. This movie involves two Vanessa Hudgenses, Scheduled Vanessa and Spontaneous Vanessa, who are distant cousins and not twins, switching places to try to facilitate Spontaneous Vanessa getting back together with her ex the baker, but Scheduled Vanessa is intercepted by a third cousin Vanessa, Horny Vanessa, who wants to take Spontaneous Vanessa’s place as queen. I don’t want to spoil anything that happens in this movie so that you can experience the batshittery for yourself, but I found every second absolutely delightful. It also has two very good romantic couples who are cute and who genuinely seem to like each other, which is not something I can say for every movie on this list!

Dashing in December (2020): This movie has gay cowboys, is set on a ranch, and features a squaredancing scene, so if that isn’t your bag, you are probably not going to like it very much. I found it deeply charming and the only reason it isn’t #1 is that three quarters of the way through, the lead suddenly turns back into a giant jerk for no real reason and that was very upsetting. But it all works out in the end. The main romance is very cute, there are horses, the horsemanship doesn’t totally suck ass, and there are some fun side characters. It’s not reinventing the wheel, but it’s pleasant.

The Princess Switch (2018): Again, some people are mean about this movie and they shouldn’t be because it is CUTE GODDAMMIT. It is absolutely The Prince and the Pauper but with two Vanessa Hudgenses, but also, it shows the aforementioned two good romantic couples falling in love and they are delightful. I am not saying this is a great masterpiece of romance, but the filmmakers actually tried to give these characters reasons to like each other, which, again, is not true for some of the movies on this list.\

Jingle Jangle (2020): I kind of feel bad putting this movie on the same list as TV movies that were obviously just shit out by Hallmark or whoever, because this clearly had a lot of love and heart put into it, and it really shows. I was so immediately charmed by this movie that I didn’t even mind when it immediately went in very silly directions. I don’t know if the plot makes sense at all (a cute robot shows up for seemingly no reason other than that cute robots are fun!) but it doesn’t have to, because everyone is having so much fun and there’s so much joy in this movie that I was just happy to be along for the ride. Also, I would love to see an entire movie in the stop-motion style from the opening scene.

Happiest Season (2020): I absolutely understand why some people didn’t like this movie, and I don’t want anyone to feel like they can’t dislike it, and also, it’s MY movie, and I love it, and I’m not interested in fighting about it. It helped me come out to my parents and also featured two of my faves kissing and that’s all I need. 

Noelle (2019): I was previously under the impression this movie was bad, and I don’t know why, because it’s a little embarrassing and cheesy at times, but it’s sweet. I suspect what will make or break it for you is if you like Anna Kendrick, and because I like Anna Kendrick, I like watching her play a neurotic Claus sibling trying desperately to fix the problem she accidentally caused. One weird thing though: this movie tried to convince me about halfway through that she was both spoiled and selfish, and I don’t actually think that’s true at all. I think she was a little naive and sheltered and wanted people to like her way too much, but she’s not really shown to be a selfish person - she’s constantly paying attention to other people in the real world and her brother is the one who refused to admit that he wasn’t cut out for the Santa gig and instead fucked off to “find himself” or whatever. It was weird! But anyway, I liked this movie a lot.

I’ll Be Home For Christmas (1998): So this movie...one Christmas Eve when I was in high school, I was having trouble falling asleep for whatever reason so I went downstairs to get some water. My mom happened to have the TV on and this movie was just starting, and she invited me to join her. Fun fact: this movie went to theaters and it stars Jonathan Taylor-Thomas and Jessica Biel. It is one of the dumbest movies I’ve ever seen in my life and at no point does anyone in it actually behave like a human being. It’s about a smooth-talking jackass who has to be bribed to come home for Christmas and then, after one of his dumbass moneymaking schemes lands him in hot water, he gets abandoned in the middle of the California desert wearing a Santa suit and glued-on beard. He then has to beg, lie, and cheat his way home for Christmas dinner so that his dad will give him a vintage Porsche they fixed up together. I have no defense for this character; he is insufferable and only becomes marginally less so by the end of the film. But also, I have to watch this movie every year (usually with my mom, although not this year for obvious reasons) or it doesn’t feel like Christmas. 

A Cinderella Story: Christmas Wish (2019): We own this on DVD and have seen it three times. In our defense, we wanted to support Gregg Sulkin from Runaways and Isabella Gomez from One Day at a Time, both of whom feature prominently in this movie, and also sing songs. This is just Cinderella But At Christmas, and if that doesn’t sound like fun to you, I don’t think anything I can say will change your mind. I will say that the songs are amusingly autotuned, there’s a disabled dog that’s very cute, and I personally think that the leads have slightly better chemistry than some of the pairs on this list. But it is literally just another Cinderella Story movie.

The Knight Before Christmas (2019): This movie is Thor (2011) But At Christmas, and it would have been slightly higher except I always forget about the plot where at the end the knight becomes a cop. Bad, obviously! But anyway, the plot of this movie is: nice but clueless dude crash-lands on Earth for Reasons and bumbles around trying to figure out what’s up, while falling in love with a nice lady. That’s just Thor and you know I’m right. And for as dumb as this movie is, at least it’s ambitious. I have learned that Christmas movies can do one of two things to please me: a) have actors that have decent chemistry and charm and are fully committed to whatever nonsense is going on, or b) have absolutely batshit chaotic plots. This movie is like a 4 out of 5 on the chaos scale and I like it a lot, besides the copaganda. I hope this also gets made into a trilogy and Cole isn’t a cop anymore.

A Christmas Prince 3: The Royal Baby (2019): I will get into my problems with the first two Christmas Prince movies later, but my main criticism is that they are kind of boring and not chaotic enough. This one decided to make up for that by incorporating a missing ancient treaty, a curse, and a ghost, as well as a subplot about Girl Power (I use this semi-ironically) and a subplot about cousin Simon potentially committing treason again. I was so excited that things were happening in this movie the first time I watched it that I may be a little biased, but oh well. Oh, I was also absolutely terrified it was going to be racist and it is...mostly not? There are a few questionable moments but like mostly it’s fine.

Christmas With the Prince (2018): I wanted to watch this because the summary on Netflix did not match the summary on Google at all, and that’s because, uh, they’re both sort of right? Ostensibly this movie is about a pediatric oncologist who comes back into contact with an old almost-flame, who just happens to be the prince of a tiny European country, because he fucked up his leg and needs somewhere private to stay. And apparently a pediatric oncology ward is the best place for that? But then after they fall in love this random Russian lady shows up and is like “that’s my fiance.” This happens maybe twenty minutes from the end. Anyway, this movie isn’t great but I liked the lead guy way more than I thought I would and it has some cute kids in it.

A New York Christmas Wedding (2020): I...am at a loss for words to describe this...motion picture. On the surface it is a cute idea: a young Black woman, Jennifer, is getting married to her boyfriend on Christmas Eve, but she’s given a chance by her guardian angel (stay with me) to go back in time and redo her life, after losing touch with her childhood best friend, Gabrielle, who she was always in love with but never confessed her feelings to. She wakes up in an alternate timeline, where she and Gabrielle have been together for years and her beloved father is still alive. Then the movie, uh...veers off into some very odd places! They go to their Catholic priest and ask him to marry them, and he is like “but the Bible” and they are like “but that’s bullshit” and he’s like “shrug” and then later during a sermon he’s like “actually that IS bullshit, everyone gay in this church come stand up here with me. We love you. Also we’re going to perform a wedding now” and then he marries Jennifer and Gabrielle. And then Jennifer’s angel shows up and is like “you have to choose between this life and your old life now” and then uh...I really hate to spoil this next thing. It is the weirdest choice I’ve ever seen a movie make and if you’re even the slightest bit interested in this movie, I think you should experience this plot point for yourself. I’m going to put the batshit spoiler in ROT13 in case you want to avoid spoiling yourself. (GJ: fhvpvqr) Wraavsre'f thneqvna natry erirnyf gung ur vf gur fba bs Tnoevryyr, jub va gur bevtvany gvzryvar tbg certanag nf n grra naq ure snzvyl frag ure gb n ahaarel. Fur zvfpneevrq naq fhofrdhragyl qvrq ol fhvpvqr. Uvf anzr vf Nmenry Tnovfba. Anyway, uh, this movie isn’t very good, unfortunately, the adult leads have no chemistry and Gabrielle’s adult self is actively unlikable (the teen versions of them are cute!), but I think it’s 1000% worth a watch for the sheer chaos of it all. I...recommend it for that, I guess? Oh, also there’s a sex scene that plays a slow sexy version of “O Christmas Tree” in the background and I felt like I was losing my mind. 

A Christmas Prince: The Royal Wedding (2018): As I said in my commentary on the third movie in this series, the worst sin this movie commits is being kind of boring. It also manages to make the romantic hero, Richard, even worse than in the first movie, where he was just kind of useless and petulant, because in this movie he is actively failing to do anything to revive the failing economy of his country. I have seen people complain that the prince in The Princess Switch and Cole in The Knight Before Christmas have no personalities; they are delightful compared to the wet paper bag of a man in this movie. Rose McIver is adorable and I don’t think any of this is her fault, she’s doing her best in these movies, but woof.

12 Pups of Christmas (2019): The Google summary of this movie, which we found on Hulu, is this: “Struggling to keep his dog GPS locator company afloat, Martin expects his new hire, Erin, to help him save the company and find homes for 12 puppies that were left behind after a photo shoot. As they work together, Erin and Martin begin to discover each other's positive qualities and find love just in time for the holidays.” My wife and I love dogs, so we put this on, expecting cute dogs. This movie contains approximately 80% chaos and 20% cute dogs. It opens with our heroine, a canine therapist, coming home from work to have dinner with her fiance and best friend. We find out that Erin and fiance are moving to California soon for her new job (they live in New York). Fast forward a few days to their courthouse wedding, at which point her fiance and best friend confess to having an affair, and she is dumped. Heartbroken, she moves to California alone, and ends up moving into the company-provided house. It is just a two-story house (??) that the CEO’s sister owns (???) and rents out to employees (????). Also Erin is, as the Google summary says, expected to come up with some grand idea to save the company. And there are 12 random puppies also. They are cute puppies. Oh, also Martin, the CEO of the dog collar company, hates dogs for some reason. Martin’s sister is aggressively friendly towards Erin in a way that I interpreted as sapphic. At one point, after they find a home for dog #3, Erin’s former BFF shows up on her doorstep (?????) begging to be let in. She insists that the fiance was also two-timing her, and she has proof that he had FIVE OTHER GIRLFRIENDS ALL AROUND THE COUNTRY - “that’s why he’s a traveling businessman”!!!! Erin never asks to see her proof, but I guess she believes her, because she lets her inside and then makes her take care of the remaining eight dogs out of spite. I guess they make up at some point. Anyway, somewhere in here Erin and Martin are starting to fall in love and also come up with a way to rebrand the business, so hooray for them. We also learn that the reason Martin hates dogs is that his beloved childhood dog, uh, ran away? Disappeared? Got eaten? He insists that “not knowing [what happened to him] was the worst part,” but I was out here expecting to see the child finding an actual dead dog like it’s John Wick or something so this was a little anticlimactic. They go on a business trip to New York talk with Important Japanese Investors, during which they fuck (it is? romantic? allegedly?), and then the morning of their meeting Erin’s shitty ex shows up in the hotel lobby to bother her. Martin decks him square in the face for not leaving her alone, and then someone calls the cops, because I guess this movie said ACAB, and both dudes get arrested and Erin has to do the presentation alone. And then in the last five minutes Martin gets out of jail and Erin says that she gave the presentation to the investors...in English, and their translator was twenty minutes late, and so the investors understood none of what she said. Thankfully we are spared actually seeing this “joke,” but they do play racist music over her explanation. Then Martin reconnects with his rich dad who bails out the company instead, and also he adopts the four remaining dogs. This movie was fucking bananas and very bad and I need more people to understand exactly how bad. Watch this movie.

A Nutcracker Christmas (2016): Amy Acker has two Christmas movies and this one seemed more palatable than Dear Santa, so here we are. I like to watch Amy Acker be cute and dance, and she has an adorable teenage niece in this movie that she’s helped raise. In this movie she’s a former ballet dancer whose sister (hilariously, one of the Wynonna Earp lesbians) died in a tragic car accident, and she never got to dance the part of the Sugarplum Fairy. Spoiler alert: she gets to by the end of the movie. Unfortunately the love interest is basically Satan incarnate and does not deserve her at all, so unless you like yelling at romantic leads I can’t really recommend it. 

Godmothered (2020): This movie is just, uh, Enchanted but worse, and also it should have been sapphic and it isn’t? Poor Jillian Bell is doing her best and is adorable, but it’s not enough to save this movie for me. If Disney were not cowards she would have fallen in love with single mom Isla Fisher. Oh, it also ends with the very white younger daughter doing a public cover of “Rise Up” by Andra Day that the audience joins in on, which, considering its use in the BLM movement the last couple years, felt, uh, not great to me.

A Christmas Prince (2017): It’s maybe not far to compare this to the rest of the Netflix Christmas Cinematic Universe, because it was the originator. But also, it’s pretty boring. Sorry. Simon, or Fiddles (Fake Hiddles/Tom Hiddleston) is the best character.

Married by Christmas (2016): Apparently an alternate title for this is The Engagement Clause, which is sort of funny. Anyway, this has Jes Macallan and we, being big fans of Legends of Tomorrow, lost our shit when we found this on Christmas Day and had to watch it. The plot is that Jes’ character runs the family business, but their shitty grandma died and left a clause in her will where the business goes to the husband of whichever granddaughter gets married first. You would think that Jes’ sister and her fiance would postpone their Christmas Eve wedding to give Jes time to set up some kind of platonic wedding for business purposes, since Jes’ entire life is this stupid business, but nope, they immediately turn into monsters who are determined to get their hands on the business for ???? reasons???? It’s not very good, as you can tell by how low it is on the list. Jes Macallan is not a convincing straight businesswoman. I wouldn’t even really enjoy this movie as an Avalance AU.

A Princess for Christmas (2011): Here we are, the worst one Christmas movie I watched this year. I don’t actively harbor any ill will towards Katie McGrath, although I confess to feeling a bit “her?” but it’s fine. I was hoping this movie would enlighten me to her appeal. Instead, this movie actively got on my nerves in multiple ways, including trying to pass Katie McGrath off as a normal American retail worker instead of an Irish vampire/sorceress/supervillain/fairy/whatever she is. Her accent is shockingly awful, which I’m not sure is actually her fault, is there a reason her family wasn’t just British? That wouldn’t have saved the movie but it would have made it just slightly more palatable. At every turn it makes the worst choices, including a scene where Katie’s character puts on a rap song and she and the prince dance to it in an attempt to show them “loosening up,” and then the mean grandfather comes in and demands that they “turn this ghetto music off.” YIKES. I know these movies are the whitest movies ever by design but was that racism necessary? The only Black people I actually saw in this movie were some of the servants, I think? Speaking of the servants, at the end of the movie there’s a grand ball and Katie’s dress gets fucked up, and she’s about to leave the country, and then the servants are like “don’t go! We pooled our money to buy you another nice dress!” which, also yikes! This movie has a real classism problem. It also was so boring I zoned out of it multiple times, and I have sat through Manos: The Hands of Fate and Birdemic multiple times. This movie has no chaos whatsoever and I hated all the characters. 0/10 do not recommend under any circumstances.