#but unfortunately delusions will overcome her out of desperation!

[miredball]

I WON'T BE LATE FOR THIS, LATE FOR THAT, LATE FOR THE LOVE OF MY LIFE

House of the Dragon Season One / House of the Dragon Season Two / Cleopatra by The Lumineers

[fullbusterfantasmic]

Headcannon Companion Ficlet ( 1 of 2)

Juvia’s Unfortunate Discovery

Chapter One: My eyes deceive me

Rated M

It’s short, a bit NSFW, some sexy time mentions. I didn’t edit this as throughly as I normally do, sorry sorry. No Summary, guess we’re raw dogging it this time around.

“Gray-Sama is definitely home from from his job with Lyon by now!” exclaims Juvia as she races towards Gray’s place.

“Juvia will take care of her undoubtedly exhausted and hard-working beloved”

Upon reaching the ice mage’s residence she’s taken aback when her calls for him go unanswered. A noise from around the back of the house attracts her attention and she goes to investigate.

“Nnnngh!”

There it was again!

Sneaking closer to the slightly ajar kitchen window she begins listening intently.

“Oh fuck that’s so sexy!”

The bluenette’s eyes grow comically wide as her hands fly up to cover her mouth; “Has Juvia shown up during another one of Gray-Sama’s fun times?!”.

Her face reddens as steam billows out of her ears, “How could Juvia once again have gotten so lucky?!”.

Seven months earlier a similar situation had occurred, and she couldn’t help but peek in to watch her beloved.

The rain woman was so overcome with lustful temptation that she even disregarded the fact her beloved was getting off to some random woman in a naughty video. “It can’t hurt to just watch him a little right?”, She thinks as her pale hand slides beneath the slit in her skirt.

“You like that don’t you?”

Juvia bites her lip as she nods, “Yes Gray-Sama I do” her words are inaudible as she continues listening in.

A low growl carries out the window followed by Gray’s low and demanding voice;

“I want you on my dick now!”

A short pause has Juvia’s eyes flying open fearing she might have been caught, she hadn’t been.

“Awww what’s the matter? Does it hurt taking something so big inside?”

His obscene questions have Juvia shuddering with excitement. The temptation is too great, she can no longer keep from looking in.

God, how she wished she never had peered through that gap in the window.

The very moment she did shattered not only her delusions, but her entire world begin falling to pieces right along with them. Feeling the scream preparing to bubble up in her throat has her biting down on her clenched fist to remain silent.

He wasn’t alone.

Her beloved Gray-Sama wasn’t alone in there!

No matter how desperately she wanted to, she couldn’t look away from the horrible sight before her. There sat the man of her dreams, right there on his love seat...With one hand gripping a waist and the other firmly squeezing the ass of that woman!

“Yeah just like that baby, how can you squeeze me even tighter like that when your pussy is already tight enough to make my cock feel like it’s in a vice?!”

Juvia can faintly make out a female voice whimpering pathetically, as its owner continues working herself up and down on Gray-Sama all the while. The heart broken rain woman doesn’t care to hear a single word out of that Bitch’s mouth, but she can’t ignore the voice of her beloved. As he begins to chuckle, she wants to cry, but she can’t ...the tears refuse to fall.

“I missed you so much snowflake, I hate being away from you”

They kiss and when the two of them part, that’s when it happens...Gray finally puts a knife through Juvia’s heart. His eyes reflect every emotion he must feel inside as the lovers gaze at one another intently.

“I love you __________, and I never want to be with anybody but you...You’re so incredible, I’m never going to let you go”

What happened after that? Juvia doesn’t know.

Hearing her beloved Gray-Sama say something she’d only dreamt of hearing him say to her! Said to another woman at that! She just couldn’t mentally process this, so she turned tail and ran.

Juvia was in a state of shock as she walked back towards the Fairy Hills dormitory. The sky was dark but the rain had yet to fall; Much like the tears she had yet to shed.

Everything she had come to know...the comfortable life she’d grown accustomed to...it all fell apart in an instant...it was ripped out from under her.

Or rather....it was stolen from her.

Recalling the last words she’d heard spoken by her beloved... had her immediately running to her bathroom and wretching violently.

Pain...the pain in her chest, it was becoming unbearable.

Her eyes grew wide, expression growing feral, as a sudden realization struck. Her body began to tremble with rage.

”That bitch it’s all her fault...and Juvia will make her pay”.

A/N: It’s not over yet! Hopefully you guys enjoyed this one.

[maswartz]

“

Bernie Sanders suffers from Great Man syndrome. It afflicts all white men, some worse than others and it can’t be cured. In Bernie world Hillary’s popularity was only “because she was a woman.” Bernie’s followers lap up this hogwash because they don’t know any better, because they too have been conditioned to believe what the Great Man says no matter what. But Hillary, of course, was speaking up for the Obama coalition, that was black mothers of shooting victims (she was criticized for this, of course), women and children all over the world and here in the US (and criticized for this). She offered practical solutions to difficult problems that were actually workable. She didn’t make false promises like a false prophet, like a god. Hillary had a great plan for dealing with college debt, and wanted to extend and improve the Affordable Care Act. Hillary actually knew she could do the job well but like so many of us women know, not only aren’t we trusted to do the job, no one believes we CAN do the job.

I’m sorry that Bernie said what he said about Hillary and women. It fed into the warped frenzy of misogyny that overtook his so-called revolution. He still thinks, and his followers think, that he would have beaten Trump. He couldn’t even win in the primary. There was no rigging, there was no collusion. She won four million more votes that he did. The people chose HER and not him. All Bernie did was help Trump win. He knows this, which is why he’s now on a desperate speaking tour to not become Ralph Nader in he public’s eyes. Blame Hillary, blame the democrats. Do anything BUT blame Bernie. And Bernie is exactly who deserves much of the blame for what he’s done, what he is still doing, to ensure the democrats lose and lose again in four years.

Would Bernie have beaten Trump? The answer is no one can say for sure but I would guess that absolutely no, he could not have. Here are the reasons why.

But first, you might be inclined to say, “we’re fighting a fascist, why aren’t we uniting against Trump?” he reason is that we can’t unite because we are deeply and sharply divided still. 2.5 million more votes than Trump is what Hillary Clinton will have had by the end of the election. He won but just barely. He won the electoral college by going after the Bernie voters and counting on third party voters to sabotage Hillary’s lead and it worked. Bernie Sanders must take responsibility for his part in this or there will be no moving forward. You can’t lie to people when the evidence is right in front of them.

Historically speaking, this election was always the Republican’s to lose. The pendulum swing of American election cycles is maddeningly predictable: Both parties find it hard to hold onto the White House for more than 2 terms in a row. Reagan did it. But he’s really the only one in recent history. JFK and FDR both died in office and that’s the only way we ever got a successor elected, since the 1800s. We had one shot to win for the Democrats and that was to make the case that the last eight years were working for Americans, that Obama’s policies and presidency had been a success, and that we wanted four more years to finish what he had started, to overcome the obstructionist roadblocks, and buttress the Obama legacy with a Supreme Court that would work to uphold his great strides. But Bernie Sanders ran a campaign as a newly minted Democrat against the Democrats! With that reckless miscalculation, he lost this election for himself and for Hillary before it even started. His entire campaign became a beta test commercial for Trump’s candidacy, as Trump noted which Hillary attacks had traction and adopted every single talking point (minus the free college and free healthcare) that Bernie had hammered her with. Bernie helped Trump immeasurably. Bernie knew could not have beaten Trump unless he’d been Obama’s chosen successor and be handed the baton to continue Obama’s policies. Since that wasn’t happening, Bernie’s only option was to tell voters that nothing about the past two terms was good enough for the American people. He made that case that the Democrats had fallen short. A ridiculous claim, but several thousand people in key states fell for it. Sure, after he lost the nomination Bernie tried to change horses mid-stream but it never really worked for him. By then, he had convinced a few million voters in his flock that Hillary was too corrupt to deserve their vote. 3 or 4 million of his most fervid supporters could never snap out of their brainwashing. If anything, some felt doubly betrayed, and many of them turned on Bernie, called him a “sellout” when got behind Hillary.

The Republicans had major opposition research ready to launch on Bernie Sanders that would have made his numbers drop quickly significantly in the polls. But Bernie was never attacked by Hillary’s team, nor by the GOP. Ask yourself why and the reason is obvious. The GOP wanted to run against Bernie. They knew they had far more volatile stuff to dump on him that the whimpering “emails, emails, emails” chant that had lost all its pizazz. Their strategy was to leave Bernie alone because the better Bernie looked, the worse Hillary looked. Newsweek’s Kurt Eichenwald laid out some of that oppo research and this is what he found:

Here are a few tastes of what was in store for Sanders, straight out of the Republican playbook: He thinks rape is A-OK. In 1972, when he was 31, Sanders wrote a fictitious essay in which he described a woman enjoying being raped by three men. Yes, there is an explanation for it — a long, complicated one, just like the one that would make clear why the Clinton emails story was nonsense. And we all know how well that worked out.

Then there’s the fact that Sanders was on unemployment until his mid-30s, and that he stole electricity from a neighbor after failing to pay his bills, and that he co-sponsored a bill to ship Vermont’s nuclear waste to a poor Hispanic community in Texas, where it could be dumped. You can just see the words “environmental racist” on Republican billboards. And if you can’t, I already did. They were in the Republican opposition research book as a proposal on how to frame the nuclear waste issue.

Also on the list: Sanders violated campaign finance laws, criticized Clinton for supporting the 1994 crime bill that he voted for, and he voted against the Amber Alert system. His pitch for universal health care would have been used against him too, since it was tried in his home state of Vermont and collapsed due to excessive costs. Worst of all, the Republicans also had video of Sanders at a 1985 rally thrown by the leftist Sandinista government in Nicaragua where half a million people chanted, “Here, there, everywhere/the Yankee will die,’’ while President Daniel Ortega condemned “state terrorism” by America. Sanders said, on camera, supporting the Sandinistas was “patriotic.”

The Republicans had at least four other damning Sanders videos (I don’t know what they showed), and the opposition research folder was almost 2-feet thick. (The section calling him a communist with connections to Castro alone would have cost him Florida.) In other words, the belief that Sanders would have walked into the White House based on polls taken before anyone reallyattacked him is a delusion built on a scaffolding of political ignorance.

Unfortunately, Sanders supporters think he’s god-like and thus, they rely solely on those inflated poll numbers. Nate Silver would tell them that you can’t really trust polls until you’ve seen the candidate “punched” completely by the opposition party. Silver thinks now it was a mistake for Hillary not to attack him because now no one will ever believe he could have been attacked the way she has been for decades. To them, Hillary had it coming but the truth is Bernie has never been considered a threat enough TO ATTACK in the first place.

3. Bernie is Jewish (as am I in case you want to start blamesplaining). He’s a socialist. And he’s an atheist. Do I need to explain this one? Obama might have been black but he was Christian. A man of faith. And though he was accused of being a socialist he is not. Bernie actually is! Has always been a socialist, bragged about being one, has expressed an affinity for Fidel Castro on video, and hates the Democratic party for not being leftist enough. The Jewish part is a touchy subject, but we have to be realistic about the American “heartland.” Is flyover America ready for a Jew in the White House? Let’s ask Joe Lieberman. Or how about ask voters in 40 states who have never sent a Jewish senator to Washington D.C. Ever. 40 states. Never Elected. A Jewish Senator. In 230 years. Are Ohio, North Carolina, Florida, Wisconsin, Pennsylvania, suddenly ready to see a Jew in the Oval Office? I do not believe they are. Not in the America that just elected Donald Trump. They aren’t even ready for a woman. The Bernie people don’t seem to know this other half of America exists. To Bernie and his supporters all those people who just voted for Trump are did so because Bernie wasn’t on the ballot. Seriously, that’s what they think.

4. Bernie Sanders promised to raise taxes on just about everyone, even a small amount on the middle class. If you think any politician can win a national election by saying they are going to raise taxes on the middle class, you have another think coming. Yes, Bernie’s ideas on trade, and certainly on the climate, are appealing to most but his platform was predicated on making the government pay for everything. When you put together his own history of never having a job for his first 30 years as an adult, never really earning a paycheck that wasn’t from the government, you can fill out the bubbles from there, right? You can visualize the Republican TV ads, yes? Please tell me you can.

5. He couldn’t win the primary. In the Land of Nod , the sad fable is that Bernie was cheated by the DNC. That’s what the Republicans wanted the Berners to believe, that’s the story they seeded, nurtured and harvested, and so it was! The most hardcore Berniacs threw one hissy fit after another, stoned Wasserman-Schultz, threatened to bust up the convention all because Hillary Clinton won more votes. He lost. Not by a little, by a lot. 55% — 43%. But for a huge number of his sullen supporters, if Bernie couldn’t have the prize, the no one could. That was their attitude. But the fact is Bernie’s supporters simply didn’t vote in large enough numbers. They didn’t even vote down ballot during the primaries. They didn’t vote for any of the progressive candidates Bernie had anointed, like Russ Finegold and Zephyr Teachout. For all their demonizing of Debbie Wasserman-Schultz, they couldn’t even be bthered to vote for her Bernie-certified opponent Tim Canova. The “revolution” was failing at every level, all across the country. The giddy crowds showed up at rallies but apparently standing in line to vote wasn’t exciting enough. Maybe no one ever taught these people about government. They certainly don’t seem to know much about safeguards the three branches help ensure. Bernie Sanders lost so badly in the South he never could have won the general election with those kinds of numbers even with Hillary out of the way. His excuse? “Oh, they’re just too deeply conservative in the south.” And worse: “Oh, they’re not educated about the issues.” Great way to connect with black voters, there, Professor Sanders! Dismiss them as being too ill-informed to know what’s good for them. Charming. Perhaps if Bernie had one more year of campaigning to strengthen his weaknesses, he might have got a better toehold. But he didn’t. The theory is that good reasonable Democrats would shunned him the primaries would have come ‘round and voted for him in the general. But I’m betting many would have fled altogether and voted for Trump, for the three following reasons.

6. a) Isis. If you didn’t get that Isis was a big part of this election you were living in a bubble, a fantasy bubble where your biggest fear is fracking. But the news that most people watch like CNN or Fox News? It’s all Isis all the time. Fear of Isis is pumped into their living rooms around the clock and it’s become ingrained in our national reality. These voters aren’t staring at Facebook and reading biased boutique news sites that tell progressive liberals what they want to hear (gluten free water cures cancer!). They’re looking around at the world from their own homes and they’re scared. Whether Bernie and his minions thought Isis was a threat is irrelevant. The voters clearly did and they thought it in a big way. It’s an issue much more important to a truckdriver than free college. And there are millions of longhaul truckdrivers. Trump and Hillary Clinton both mopped the floor with Bernie Sanders on Isis and terrorism and foreign policy. Remember the Daily News interview? Bernie forgot to study for that exam. 6. b) Economy. Trump pretended to be Bernie’s best friend because it made Hillary look bad. He used Bernie like a bar rag, sopping up the stale foam of angry white dudes, hipster or otherwise, who could not believe their Feel-the-Bern icon of virtue had been beaten by a girl. 6. c) Immigration. See 6a) and 6b) Because the greatest trick Trump ever pulled was convincing a stunningly large swath of white Americans that all their terrorism fears and the economic woes would magically evaporate if we could only Build That Wall. So it was all about Isis, the economy, and immigration. It was in the beginning, it was in the end, and it is now. Trump would have crushed Sanders on those key points alone and it wouldn’t have even been hard.

7. Bernie is in it for Bernie. He probably would have chosen Cornel West as his running mate, but it’s pretty clear he would not have chosen anyone he would want to share the stage with, because he didn’t like sharing the stage with anyone, not even his poor wife. (“Don’t stand next to me!”) So his veep would have been… who knows. Certainly not dynamo Elizabeth Warren. She would have swooped in like Bernie’s charismatic caregiver. Although in the dreamland of liberal utopia it would have been Sanders and Warren. But even that duo would have lost and lost badly to Trump. Outside the major cities where most of us dwell, the majority of Americans saw Trump and Sanders as different species of outsiders. That’s both funny sad, because Bernie only seemed like an outsider, because nobody in 49 states had ever heard of him before last year, despite his decades in public office. So given that choice, to those voters, Trump would have been basically Bernie except glitzy capitalism instead of scary socialism, Trump was Bernie except with a strong hand against terrorism instead of weak one. Trump was Bernie except with the sultry MILF by his side. None of this would have sat well with a man as vain as Bernie Sanders. Bernie would have been pressured by his all-or-nothing followers to pick a progressive veep so now you’ve got the Bernie progressive vote, you’ve got some of the loyalist Democrats, but you’ve lost ALL of the moderates who are too freaked out about taxes and Isis to take a chance on a radically left ticket.

8. Change in America is incremental and slow. It does not come quickly. After two terms of a Democratic president, the American people have never and will never move farther to the outer reaches in the same direction of the party in power. America is populated by mostly moderates who care more about paying taxes (or not) than just about anything else. Whatever Bernie is offering, this is an electorate that could barely accept Obamacare because they thought it was socialism — what kind of a crackpot does one have to be to think Americans would be ready to veer all the way to 100% government-run health care? They wouldn’t. They won’t. Not yet. I’m so sick of having this conversation with people and if Bernie Sanders runs in 2020 then and only then will they understand, just like the McGovern supporters learned and the Nader voters. You learn that ugly lesson once. For those of us who have lived through people learning that lesson, to watch it learned over again is not just frustrating, it’s tragic. All the left seems able to do is put republicans in power, until they get a clue about what America is and what America isn’t.

9. Liberals were living in a bubble of illusion, including and especially the Berniecrats. They were following what the media kept saying and the media focused entirely too much on Sanders — only when he hurt Hillary. They never focused on his policies. They didn’t want to talk policy. Policy is boring. Let’s watch the scrappy senator take down the powerful woman. Let’s watch Trump take Hillary down. That’s what they were invested in. And they lulled Americans into falsely believing the democrats had it in the bag. This is true now and it would have been true if Bernie won. The only difference is that now Bernie would have to find another scapegoat to explain what would have been a landslide loss for him. But the polls, they would cry, the polls! Because the polls were all they had and the polls were wrong when it came to Trump. They were wrong. Liberals need to break out of that bubble because the joke is on us. America is laughing at us and our hysteria and in order to save the environment, fight for civil and LGBT rights we have to get smarter about it and getting smarter about it does not include living in a deluded fantasy that “Bernie would have won.” No, he wouldn’t have.

10. You can’t lead the democratic party and focus only on the white working class as Bernie did. You can’t lead the democratic party by not acknowledging the success of its two term president, Barack Obama. You can’t lead the democratic party by perpetuating the false notion that Hillary Clinton was only where she was because she was a woman. The democratic party is not the party of the white working class. It stands for a bigger, broader group than that. Bernie writes it off as “identity politics” but it’s bigger than that because America, and the world, are changing. Hillary has more of a record of action than Bernie ever had in 30 years. To discount that is to tell a lie. If you tell enough lies sooner or later they catch up with you and Bernie’s would have caught up with him. He should never have divided the democrats the way he did. He should never have influenced so many young people not to choose pragmatism.

On top of our deep sense of sadness (and yes, everlasting anger) over the way this election was manipulated by the FBI, by WikiLeaks, by Putin, by news media both slanted and fake — it’s just exhausting two weeks later to have to listen to Bernie’s simplistic lectures about the Democrats “failure to connect” with the white working class, and scolded for not seeming to know what people in America care about. It has become depressing and tiresome to watch Bernie continue to blame Hillary even now. Had he ever tried to discourage the character assassination against her early on, we would have had a chance. But Bernie could not stand it that Hillary was beating him. He still can’t stand it and he still can’t believe it. It’s time for him to stop already. Just stop.

“

[metapikakirby42]

Thoughts on RPDR AS3 Ep. 2

Spoilers. So don’t read ahead if you haven’t watched. XO

Milk - she’s making great TV. Is it grating watch someone be delusional? I dunno but some of y’all like Shannel and she was... O.o ... just saying. But I think Milk is aware. And if she isn’t, the jokes on her isn’t it. So don’t get to harsh peeps. It’s not personal, it’s just drag. (Her “meltdown” about Celine. We get it gurl but Trixie was right.) I have to give her credit tho; she wasn’t wrong about Shangela... But hey...drama...am I right ;) ? Also she was joking about SuperModel thing. She smiled. That was the smile of: I’m proud I just told a joke. And if she really believes that then you and I both know that the joke is on her. Either way, she’s on TV and not us, so don’t get too worked up mawma.

Trixie - So like...Trixie is skating by. Don’t channel Pearl. She didn’t win. But her confessionals are 100% on point. Loved her Dolly but didn’t do much. Her rudemption runway was god-awful. She took notes from Katya’s Knitter-Please and Kennedy’s hello kitty look. Disgusting = Toot. (And from the looks of the preview for next week, She’s getting a wake up call.) WAKE UP, TRIXIE!

Thorgy - Well shit. I just identify with her so much. I can’t hate on her because that’s me. I’d be doing the same. Is she petty? Yes. She was Katya’d -- except Katya was saved. I LOVED HER RUNWAY LOOK -- SHOOT! But I’m also just gonna say, Todrick did nothing to help her really. DID YOU SEE HER GET HERSELF SOMETHING OTHER SCENE TO BE IN. BLESS HER FOR TRYING. Did she deserve to go home tho? I mean yes. But what the fuck was she given? NOTHING. And do I want her to go home? No. I agree with her inner saboteur conspiracy, but like there’s nothing she could do. ALSO I CAUGHT THAT SHADE WHEN SHANGELA & KENNEDY STARTED TALKING OVER THORGY. :( . I empathize with her and I can already see the shit she’s gonna get and it just makes me sad because Thorgy honestly just deserves to be constantly happy and positive. BUT THAT ENDING WAS CREEPY AF. I personally want and expect Morgan to comeback but if Thorgy claws her way back I wouldn’t be mad. (Sorry for this rant, but I really love Thorgy and only want her shout “Whoo!” and be her distracted eccentric self). Was the pageant rigged? I’d agree with Thorgy and say yes. It’s unfortunate because I’ll take Thorgy confessionals over Milk’s because all the gays are complaining about Milk...

Kennedy - FIRST OF ALL. HER RUNWAY? SHOOT. Gurl. She did a reveal. She was crystallized for the gawds. It was gorgeous. THAT IS DRAG. You cannot fucking tell me that is not drag. Just for that look. She deserved to stay. Was her lipsync shit? Yes. But I thought the same for Glamazon Airways too... Was her Janet Jackson not perfect? Yes. But like Kennedy can fucking do the damn thing. I’m rooting for her for the Top 4 purely out of spite for these bitches that can’t get their head out of their asses that this is drag show and bitchy queens = great tv. Like I said before, Trixie was right about Kennedy: she’s a grumpy old drag queen that tells it like it is. And if you can’t handle that honesty...bitch then I don’t know what to tell you.

Shangela - Slayed the house down boots. Kicked it into overdrive. She literally became the snow ho. I love it: SHOOT. Thorgy was right though, Shangela literally was given the best part (her and BenDeLa) and she slayed so no surprise there. Lipsync was great. The Jump Rope gag was fun...but...like..well I’ll talk about later. Shangela is going to fucking play this game and I’m READY FOR IT. If she doesn’t make it to Top 4, she’s gonna go far because she’s about to lay down her alliances quickly.

Aja - Didn’t get enough screen time this episode. But she did really well! I almost thought she did better than Bebe. Plus her Princess Disaster look was GORGEOUS. Personally I give it a Shoot because I just love the original disaster and the glow up is AMAZING - WERK SIS! I really want Aja to go far. Imagine the gag if she gets TOP 4. OMG I’d be surprised but it would be amazing television. Keep it up gurl!

Bebe - Did she slay her Diana Ross? YES. Was there bias? HELL YES. Her runway look was perfection -- Bebe doesn’t do wrong. But was it underwhelming compared to the other glow ups? IMO, yes. I love a good business fish look but you know--then again there weren’t really any looks for Bebe to redeem. IMAGINE IF SHE JUST WALKED IN HER ORIGINAL CROWING FINALE OUTFIT? I would have gagged. Still #TeamBeBe tho. I’m loyal. That edit tho trying to mislead you.

Chi Chi - She nailed Patti. Perhaps she wasn’t perfect, but she did pretty well and was entertaining. See the trick with this is to be funny and entertaining. And Chi Chi did that. Her look was a safe toot for me. I think Chi Chi is beautiful and something about it was fun and youthful. It was a little... teenager goes to a blacklight rave. I’m hoping she serves something more avant-garde soon or something elevated (which stay tuned for next episode cuz she looked gorg). I’m glad she’s safe. ALSO THAT SHADY EDITING IN THE BEGINNING WITH HER CALLING OUT MILK. I see you shady editors. bless you.

BenDeLaCreme - Okay. Next to BeBe, I’m rooting for Ben. And bitch, my other gal is playing the fucking game. She’s playing the congeniality card fucking well. Do I believe her “boo-hoo fish”? Yes and no. She sent Morgan home because of how she was sending people home. She’s PLAYING THE GAME. She is secretly the conniving bitch of this season and I can’t wait. She slayed as Julie Andrews. Except it was no fucking surprise. Her part was also the best and had lots of content to work with. Each queen had a Diva that definitely fit them. But some did have more to work with. Her runway toot. Loved it. Dripping in jewels even more than before. NOW THAT LIPSYNC. I FUCKING SEE YOU BEN. You pulled a Katya. You gave up. You threw that lipsync just to not send another bitch home. You may have done a ruveal gag, but GURL. YOU PHONED IT IN. You had more in you and you could have probably beat Shangela. But you know, I respect you for playing the game bitch. I wouldn’t want to send Thorgy or Kennedy home. Gurl I was waiting for this tactical lipsync throwing shenanigans. I would do it fucking too.

Ben, Shangela, and BeBe are the front runners for now. But I think next episode we’ll start to settle on who’s gonna be there for the long-run. So here’s to another week’s wait for good TV. Also that skit with strip poker? Cute ;) . Also keep up this shady editing. I live for it. It makes ru-watching the episode so much fun. Also this lipsync extravaganza...not great. 5/10. But all the gurls did the best they could.

THORGY RANT CONTINUED:

Imagine Thorgy with any other character. She could have probably have easily done Dolly. She probably could have easily slayed Julie Andrews. HELL, I bet she could of even done Diana Ross. But tell me what the fuck is she supposed to do with Stevie Knicks? What did Todrick give her? NOTHING. -.- . She was Katya’d and she wasn’t wrong. Perhaps I indulge in Delusion (by Jinx) too, but I mean...c’mon.

Her thing with Bob. Is it petty? Yes. But let me tell you, those types of people ARE fucking annoying especially for a person whose constantly in their head. Is that a weakness? yes. Is it something to overcome? yes. But Thorgy isn’t being irrational. Self-doubt and inner saboteur are powerful things that require time and self-improvement to overcome. And Thorgy (and even I) have to continuously work on it. But you forget they’re in the context of stressful competition. IT’S HARD TO NOT COMPARE YOURSELF TO OTHERS. IT’S JUST FUCKING HARD. But you can’t blame Thorgy for still doing the god damn thing. She did so well but when she crashes she burns and it’s not fun to see. But I mean, that’s me too. I empathize so much that I can’t give her shit. I just can’t. that pettiness when she was writing her mirror message. It’s not pretty but shit fucking sucks. I don’t think Thorgy is a hateful person. I think she’s fun. But if you cross her, that’s a big no-no. It sucks to feel like you’re being forced to lose. I wish Thorgy was able to muster some bubbly-ness instead of be bitter but it’s hard.

Finally all these bitches always say that Thorgy was destroyed in her lipsync against Chi Chi and like saying she was desperate. Bitch. You a white bitch going into a lipsync for “And I’m Telling You” against a black queen--the Lipsync assassin? Bitch. Thorgy would have one that lipsync against any other queen except for Bob and Chi Chi. That’s the fucking tea. Chi Chi was in an outfit REMINISCENT of fucking Dreamgirls! SHE LOOKED LIKE SHE LITERALLY WAS FROM DREAMGIRLS. HOW THE FUCK IS THORGY SUPPOSED TO FUCKING BEAT THAT? I’m not saying it was rigged, but bitch, let’s be fucking real. Thorgy was fucking sent home the minute Kim Chi was saved. Imagine Kim Chi vs. Chi Chi. Now I was Team Kim Chi, but I ain’t fucking stupid. Kim Chi is not the queen to defeat Chi Chi in a lipsync of “And I’m telling you”. Thorgy was fucking set up to go home. Was her video a mess? Yes. Was her look a mess? I mean...I liked it...not a huge toot...but not an enthusiastic toot. She crashed that episode--HARD. I totally think it did a disservice to Thorgy. THORGY CONCEDED THE LIPSYNC TO CHI CHI. That’s why she did that cartwheel -- cause it don’t fucking matter. That’s why she waved for attention -- she’s waving bye. That’s why she raised Chi Chi’s arm at the end -- she knows she lost. ALL I’m saying. BTM 3: Thorgy, Chi Chi, Kim Chi. Think of the the combinations of lipsyncs. Chi Chi wins both her match-ups. Kim Chi loses either combo. And think of production team and how that could affect who they want to stay. Of course you wanna keep the avant-garde, unique polite likable Kim Chi. And Chi Chi is just a lovable underdog. Thorgy is getting overshadowed by Bob. She makes great TV cause she’s eccentric but Bob is just doing the god damn thing so of course Thorgy has no favoritism to be helped to stay--if she fucks up, she’s out. ALSO DERRICK STAYED TOO LONG, and this is coming from someone who initially was rooting for Derrick. Oh fucking well. Shit happened and there’s nothing we can change. Reference this lipsync all you want about how terrible Thorgy is, but lemme tell you. I would have tried my best too, but when I know I’m beat, I know I’m fucking beat.

*END RANT* I’m just frustrated with myself atm so I just vented. Sorry if you read this. I didn’t mean for you to read word vomit. But I just needed to just type out shit. I love Thorgy. I really wish better for her. <3 And i’m not mad at the elimination, just disappointed cuz this lipsync was still rigged and shit. 

[thedarklordmegatron]

Of Pups and Wayward Omegas - Part 1

Thank you @rkcart for creating such a wonderful AU :D! I couldn’t resist doing a thing, hopefully I get the details right! All hail the wonderful creator of this Werewolf AU! 

Also on AO3 

The love, comfort and safety provided by his pack over the last four years had done little to quell the fear Prompto had felt every day for the past nine months. The fear that one morning he might wake from the beautiful dream and find himself once again chained at the foot of Ardyn’s bed, that the pup he carried was nothing more than the desperate delusions of a broken Omega. Eight years of torture and numerous miscarriages could not be so easily forgotten.

Which was when when Prompto was woken up just after midnight by a painful cramp, he quietly crawled out of the bed without waking any of his mates, a impressive feat when he was the size of a whale, took both his phone and Noctis’ from the bedside table and relocated downstairs.

From the moment they had discovered his pregnancy the pack had been nothing but attentive, ensuring he had everything a pregnant Omega could want. Except for sand he thought bitterly. Gladio was the worst offender, physically dragging him away from anything remotely sandy, literally anything. He’d even gone so far as to throw away his wheat bag when he’d been scenting it too often. Prompto would never forgive him for that, even if Ignis did promptly go out and replace it with a brand new one the following day.

Following the advice provided by Regis and his own pack, Ignis and Gladio had gone about converting one of the relatively empty ‘cupboards’ downstairs into a ‘safe room’ of sorts. (Prompto silently noticed that the room was bigger than any ‘room’ the Omegas in Ardyn’s pack had ever been given.)’ A quiet, warm and comfortable little room for Prompto to escape to when everything became too much. Prompto had silently decided that this was where his pup would be warm, safe from the outside world and most notably away from the midwife his pack and Regis’ had insisted he should see. To be fair to her she was a kind older Omega, one who apparently had seven pups of her own, seven! But despite how kind and gentle she’d been with him he still couldn’t bring himself to fully trust her, and certainly was not going to allow her anywhere near himself or his pup when they were at their most vulnerable. And his little ‘nest’ was the perfect safe haven. With no windows and a newly installed lock courtesy of Gladio, he could hide himself away with the knowledge that no one would be able to get to him unless he wanted them to.

As he reached the bottom of the staircase Prompto put a hand on his lower back and took a deep breath, holding onto the banister as a contraction started up. The pain wasn’t any worse than one of his heat cramps but he knew that wouldn’t last forever, the books Noct had ‘borrowed’ from his father had made that quite clear. When the contraction finally finished he let out the breath and rubbed the side of his bump, he received a harsh kick to the ribs in response. Prompto chuckled softly. So long as his pup was still moving everything was fine. Content in the knowledge his pup was still ok, Prompto strolled into the kitchen to collect a few bottles of water, Ignis had taken to making sure there were always plenty on hand in recent weeks, and as many apples and bananas he could carry. It turned about to be quite a horrific challenge to juggle his spoils and open the door to his nest, but no one could ever accuse Prompto of being a quitter. After what felt like forever he was able to get the door open by some form of hip magic, unfortunately he did have to use his entire body to open the door wide enough, especially as it kept catching on the ridiculous amount of blankets and pillows he’d accumulated.

With a fair amount of difficulty Prompto set his snacks down against the wall and flicked the single light on. Immediately the room was bathed in a warm light and he was immediately set at ease. This was his space. He was safe in this little room, surrounded by the scents of his packmates, he absolutely had not been stealing their clothes. Nope. No sir. They couldn’t prove anything. Stepping further into the room Prompto shut the door behind him and sliding the lock into place. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust his mates, he would put his life and the life of his pup in their hands, it was everything else he feared. There was always the chance that someone from his previous pack would find him, that Ardyn would find him. It was an irrational fear, one he’d desperately tried to overcome through numerous sessions with a lovely Beta from Regis’ pack, yet it was always present in the back of his mind. However, the creation of his nest along with the security of a single door settled those thoughts.

Huffing Prompto tore himself from his thoughts as he settled himself among the blankets. As soon as he was settled in a comfortable position the pup made itself known again, once again lashing out with a hard kick to his ribs.

“Please stop” He muttered softly, all too aware that he needed to keep his voice down lest he attract the attention of his mates. “Let mama sleep for a little bit.” Thankfully the flurry of kicks stopped allowing him to relax. With a wide yawn he grabbed the nearest scented item, Gladio’s favourite top - Prompto had desperately tried not to snicker when the Alpha had gone searching for it, muttering under his breath the entire time. He buried his head in the soft fabric, inhaling Gladio’s scent as he drifted off. It was going to be a long night.

[406ink-blog]

Time stands still

Daenerys and Jon face challenges after arriving at Winterfell

Author’s note: Fluffy, smutty fanfiction ahead

Jon sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed his face in his hands, scratching at his beard over and over, before looking straight forward with unseeing eyes.

Daenerys felt hot tears threatening to spill from her eyes to her cheeks.  Why didn’t he say anything?

Only a few hours earlier as Missandei had been dressing her, struggling a bit more than usual to button the bodice of the Queen’s dress, did the two suddenly reach a simultaneous conclusion: Daenerys was pregnant.  Their eyes connected in the looking glass, sharing a knowing look.  Dany had thought the month-and-a-half at sea en route to White Harbor from Dragonstone had been to blame for her “shrinking” wardrobe; she was not used to being so confined and therefore inactive, nor eating so well, for so long.  Never had she thought, for even a moment that she could be pregnant.

  Missandei finally broke the silence to ask when Daenerys had last bled, pointing out the gentle swell of the queen’s once-flat belly, her now fuller breasts, her darkening areolas and suddenly tender nipples.  Dany’s red flower had not bloomed on a regular basis for many years, she truly had no idea.  When Missandei asked, “Who might the father be, Your Grace?” Daenerys had shot her a disbelieving look and replied, “I believe you know the man of whom we speak.” 

After all, there were no secrets between Dany and Missandei, her most trusted advisor.  Missandei had found Jon Snow in Her Grace’s bed in the morning on more than one occasion.  She had changed the queen’s linens, the evidence of their nightly activities plain as day on the silk sheets.  She knew from their girl-talk during Dany’s baths and dressing routine that Dany and Jon had lain together every night on the voyage to White Harbor, and more-often-than-not they coupled two or three times a night, as though no amount of love making could sate their desire for one another.  In truth, it was a desperate attempt to make up for all the nights they had spent apart before finding one another, and for all the nights they may never have if they failed to defeat the Night King in the Great War to come.

 A visit with Maester Wolkan had confirmed what they suspected.  Missandei had held her hand as the Maester had performed his examination and given them the news, and they both had sat for long moments in silence after he quit the chambers she had been given on her arrival at Winterfell.  Missandei was again the one to finally break the silence, “Are you happy for this news Your Grace?”

Dany smiled.  “So happy.  Missandei, I never thought I would bear another child after …” her voice cracked, thick with emotion.  Missandei turned and embraced her friend and queen.  “I am so happy for you both.  What do you think Lord Snow will say?  How will you tell him Your Grace?”

“I expect it will be a shock,” Dany said, worry furrowing her brow.  “I told him more than once that I could not have children, though he did say I might consider the mage was not an ‘accurate source’ for that information.”  She smiled at that.

“I believe he will be happy for this news Your Grace.  Every man desires heirs.  Perhaps he will propose a marriage.  He is an honorable man and Lord Snow explained to me that he, himself, is a bastard - that is, his mother and father weren’t mar…”

“I know what a bastard is,” Dany cut off her friend, and gave her a squinty, disbelieving look as she continued, “This is unfortunate timing, but then, when would be a good time?”  She gave a small, bitter laugh.  “I need to tell him Missandei, I need to tell him now.  Can you send for him?”

30 minutes later, Jon Snow knocked at her door and she called out for him to enter.  They were more formal with one another now than they had been on the seas.  They had spent every night together on the ship – either Jon came to her cabin or she to his – and had made love so many times she had lost count.  Afterward, they spent hours talking while Jon held her close, his hand twined with hers. 

They had told one another their life stories in the still of the night, the only noise their breathing and the gentle slap of the waves on the side of the ship.   Dany spoke of many things to Jon, both happy and sad, some that she had never told another living soul.  Jon pointedly asked her what she had meant, when during their first meeting, Dany said she had been ‘sold like a brood mare, raped and defiled.’  She had not been prepared for the flood of emotion as she spoke of her brother Viserys selling her to Khal Drogo, of her subsequent rape at the tender age of 13 and many nights thereafter, of overcoming her trauma to love the Khal, the devastating loss of both her husband – even though it had been a mercy, it had been at her hand, had been her fault – and their child, and the guilt and shame she still carried for all of it.  Jon held her tenderly as she cried for what felt like the first time in many years, his heart overflowing with compassion and genuine concern for his queen, but there was something else; something deeper that made Jon rage inside like a wild animal at the pain and betrayal she had experienced at the hands of others.  He loved her. 

He was thankful those that had hurt her were already dead, otherwise he would have ended them himself.  No one would ever hurt her again as long as he still drew breath.  Longclaw, the great bastard Valyrian steel sword given to him by Lord Commander Mormont, would drip with the blood of anyone who would harm her.  He silently vowed it would be so.  He took no joy in killing, but could not stop his mind from conjuring an image of himself cutting down Daenerys’ enemies - shattering the Night King into a million shards of ice, gutting Cersei Lannister as she sat on the Iron Throne.  Jon had no delusions about the possibility of his death - never had had any.  He had accepted the truth - that he was the shield that guards the realms of men, and would lay down his life if need be, he thought bitterly.  Only gladly would he lay down his life for his queen, Daenerys Stormborn, his Dany.

For her part, questions had poured out of Daenerys’ mouth as though she couldn’t help herself, curious and impatient to know everything there was to know about Jon Snow.  Tracing a slender finger over each of the scars on his chest and abdomen, she asked him how he came to leave the Night’s Watch when the vow was for life, how he came to be stabbed in the heart, and how he had survived his wounds.  Jon explained how his men had labeled him a ‘traitor’ for allowing the Wildlings through the Wall, and had killed him for it, expecting Dany to disbelieve that he had actually died, but she did not.  He told her of the red priestess, Melisandre, who had brought him back to life, and her belief that the Lord of Light had resurrected him, for what purpose he still did not fully understand.  He also told her what is was to grow up a bastard, Catelyn Stark’s hatred of him and the coldness and distance from his family he suffered as a result, and of his first love, Ygritte.

An intimate group, those closest to Daenerys and Jon – Jon, Davos, Daenerys, Missandei, Tyrion, Grey Worm, Sansa, Arya, and Gilly – had assembled in the Stark crypt beneath Winterfell at the request of Bran and Sam.  Jon had assumed the meeting location was to keep whatever information they had to share from the ears of the wrong people.  They stood together in the cool, damp, darkness, the only light coming from the sparsely spaced torches on the walls and the few candles at the feet of the statuary. 

When Bran began to tell his revelation – that Jon was the son of Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen, and not Ned Stark’s bastard as they all had believed, Jon’s knees had nearly buckled.  “This changes nothing,” Sansa had said, matter-of-factly.  “You are still a Stark.  You are still our blood.  And you are still the leader the North has chosen, the King in the North.”  Clearly the implications of what Bran had said hadn’t fully sunk in to everyone present.  His throat dry, Jon’s gravelly voice broke the silence, “I’m still a bastard.  And I’m not a Stark.  I was born in Dorne - am I even still of the North?  It doesn’t matter.  I will still fight for the North, bleed for the North, die for the North if need be.”

Daenerys stood beside Jon, so close her shoulder brushed his arm.  He could feel the heat she put off in the cool darkness, through even his thick leather jerkin and fur-lined cloak.  She sensed there was more dark words to come from Brandon Stark, from this Three-Eyed Raven.  In the cool darkness, her hand brushed against Jon’s, and she caught his little finger with her own, a silent show of solidarity and support.  He accepted it gladly, twining his large finger around her small one.

“That’s not entirely accurate,” Sam interjected with a bit of trepidation, his eyes beseeching Bran to continue.  Bran went on, “Sam told me Rhaegar and Lyanna were married in a secret ceremony in Dorne, after Rhaegar had his marriage to Elia Martell annulled.  I used my abilities to travel there and see it.  You were never a bastard Jon; you are Rhaegar Targaryen’s trueborn son.  Your true name is Aegon Targaryen and you are the heir to the Iron Throne.”  There were several sharp intakes of breath before a hushed silence fell over the group, each of them wondering what the ramifications of Bran’s confession would truly mean – for the North, for all of them, for the realm. 

To Jon, it felt as though all the air had been sucked out of the room.  The only thing that kept him standing was the warmth of Dany’s small fingers entwined with his own.  She hadn’t let go, not even when Bran told them that Jon, and not she, was the true heir to the Iron Throne.   Somehow, Jon knew, she never would.

It seemed like everyone started to talk all at once, their voices slicing through the quiet of the crypt.  The echoing din made Jon’s head feel as though it would split in two.  “Enough,” he said finally when he could stand it no longer.  The voices stopped, all eyes on him.  “I need time to think, I need peace and quiet.  Leave me and do not speak of this to anyone.”  Respecting his wishes, everyone turned and began to make their way to the stairs leading up out of the crypt. 

Tyrion lingered a moment longer than the others before he turned to go; his eyes narrowed and shrewd and missing nothing in the darkness – certainly not the laced fingers of his queen and the bastard.  He had seen Jon go into Daenerys’ cabin on the ship, and it did not take much thinking to connect the dots in Tyrion’s troubled mind: they were fucking – no, not just fucking – they were in love.  Gods help them all, he thought, for love is the death of duty. 

Dany saw Tyrion hesitate, felt certain her amethyst eyes betrayed her true feelings for Jon, but it was her actions which left no question.  She did not try to pull her hand away; she wouldn’t let go and neither would he.  She looked at Jon as though for the first time, her eyes meeting his in the torchlight.  “Not you”, he said, obsidian eyes blazing, his voice a velvet whisper. “Never you.”  She embraced him then, her arms going around his shoulders.  “Blood of my blood,” she said whispered against his neck.

Blood of my blood.  Jon never had a mother, never had anyone to comfort him or hold him or assure him that everything would be alright.   And he was so tired, so weary, so weak.  He’d been fighting all his life. In this world, men didn’t show emotion and they certainly didn’t cry or need comforting from women, but Dany’s embrace felt good to Jon.  It felt right.  Daenerys comforting him didn’t make Jon feel weak, it made him feel strong.  For the first time, he felt he had someone who had faced and overcome the same adversities as he had - someone who understood him completely.

The group had agreed to keep the truth about Jon’s parentage to themselves for the time being.  Northern politics were complicated enough as it was, more so now that Jon had bent the knee to Daenerys.  The Northern lords had no trouble believing in the army of the dead or the Night King, but asking them to believe that Daenerys Targaryen was not there to conquer them proved a difficult feat.

Here in Winterfell, with all eyes on them, the freedom Jon and Daenerys had to continue their physical and metaphorical exploration of one another became little and less.  They certainly had less privacy for their wanton abandon, and less time to slake their thirst for one another as nearly every waking moment was spent in preparation the possibility the Wall would fall and the Night King and his undead army would come pouring through the breach. 

Not to mention that almost immediately upon arriving, Jon had been rocked by the revelation of his true parentage.  The nights had become long and empty for them both, as there were too many people about in the castle to allow them to sneak into one another’s chambers, even in the middle of the night.  The fact that Jon was a Targaryen changed nothing for them; in fact it made their connection run deeper than the name they both shared, deeper even than blood. 

Jon had been shaken deeply by the information Bran and Sam had told him; everything he thought he knew about himself had been a lie.  Robert’s Rebellion had been built on lies; how many tens of thousands had died for Rhaegar and Lyanna’s forbidden love?  To protect him, the honorable Lord Eddard Stark, who Jon had thought was his father, had lived a lie.  It wasn’t that Jon felt his father had abandoned his honor; quite the opposite. Ned Stark had been so honorable, so loyal in fact, that he wrapped Jon in the cloak of his honor and sacrificed his own reputation and even the trust of his wife for his duty.  His father had chosen the hard way. 

We all do our duty when there’s no cost to it.  Honor comes easily then, Jon thought remembering the words of Maester Aemon. Yet sooner or later, in every man’s life, there comes a day when it is not easy; a day when you must choose.  Yes, the fact that the honorable Lord Eddard Stark had done his duty when the cost was so great; that fact shook Jon most of all, because he realized, he felt the same honor and sense of duty to Daenerys.  There would be no sacrifice too great for his queen if he the day came when he had to make that choice. 

But as far as Stark or Targaryen, Jon felt he did not have to choose.  In his heart, Ned Stark was still his father, still with him always.  His mother was a Stark.  He was the blood of the wolf.  He had yet to learn what it meant to be a Dragon, but he was a dragon still.  There was no denying his blood.  He was a dragon raised by wolves.  He could be a Stark and a Targaryen.  He could be ice and fire; a dragon and a wolf.

Jon and Dany had managed only a handful of moments alone over the last weeks since they’d been in Winterfell.  There had been one or two stolen kisses in the Gods wood and a brief moment in the cool darkness of the Winterfell crypt before the statue of Jon’s mother, Lyanna.  Her body had ached for Jon’s touch, the sort of physical pain an alcoholic goes through when there’s no drink to be had.  In truth, he had ached for her just as much. 

They had crossed paths in the hallway late one night; Daenerys had been returning from the privy, Jon had been returning to his chambers from the library.  His eyes locked on her, like a wolf stalking its prey.  He had pulled her into a curtained alcove, ripped her dressing gown open to find nothing underneath.  He pushed her roughly up against the warm stones, claimed her mouth, pushed his knee between her legs and slid his hand over her sex.  Finding her soaking wet, he slid two fingers inside, stretching her pleasurably.   Daenerys found herself hitching one leg up to wrap about his waist, giving him more access, more depth.  His tongue in her mouth mimicked the motion of his fingers pumping in and out of her soaking pussy, and he massaged her swollen nub with his calloused thumb until she came, her legs shaking and her breasts heaving, on a string of breathless Valyrian words Jon did not understand.

And now she stood before him, having told him she was pregnant with his child.  “I know I told you I could never have any children, and believe me, this is the last thing I ever expected, my lord. But there is no doubt in my mind, I am with child.  Your child.”

His legs had gone out from underneath him at the revelation and he’d sat down hard on end of the bed, the second time in the span of the week he’d felt the air sucked from his lungs, the ground falling out from beneath his feet.  A child.  My child, he thought.  My child inside my Queen.  He rubbed his face with his hands, he scratched his beard over and over.  Then he looked up to see her standing before him, arms wrapped around herself, worry and fear so plain on her face, tears threatening to spill from her beautiful violet eyes. 

He stood and closed the distance between them in two strides.  When he reached her, he paused, unsure whether his touch would be welcome.  She had been so formal, almost cold when she gave him the news, as if she had clad herself once again in armor, ready to do battle.  In truth, she was his one weakness, and the thought did not terrify him as it should have.  He put his hands on her upper arms and pulled her to him; she started and looked up at him, her violet eyes wide her lips slightly parted.  “My lord?” she asked, her voice small and shaky.  He placed his lips against her forehead, then enfolded her in his arms.  Her hands came up to wrap around his upper back and she melted into his embrace.  “Dany, there’s no need to be so formal.  Fuck the formalities.  I am Jon, your Jon.  You know that.”  Her heart danced at that.

He needed to know how she felt about this child; all that mattered to him now was her happiness.  He broke off the hug and taking her hand, he pulled her to the bed to sit beside him.  He angled his body slightly to look at her.  Gods, she took his breath away.  It was true what they said about pregnant women; she was glowing, she was radiant.  He brought his hand up to cup her cheek, his thumb calloused and rough as it stroked over the softness of her face.   “Are you happy about this child, our child?” he asked.  She was so overcome with joy at the thought of the new life quickening inside her at this very moment, all she could do was nod.  Jon had never been a talker, never a man of many words nor very eloquent, but at this moment, the words began to pour out of him and he found he could not hold them back.

“Dany,” he began, his gravelly voice thick with emotion, “I can’t begin to tell you what this means to me.  Until a few days ago, I was a motherless bastard with no home, no birthright, no name.  Then come to find out, everything I thought I knew - about my father, my family, myself – it was all a lie.  The only truth I know now is you.”  Slayer of lies, Daenerys thought, as Jon continued.

“I had worn the name ‘Snow,’ the word, ‘bastard’ like armor – I thought if I did, no one could ever use it to hurt me.  I never dreamed I’d be named King in the North, or have as much as I do to be thankful for.  There was a time I thought I’d be a man of the Night’s Watch until my dying day, honoring my vows to hold no titles, take no wife, to have no children.  The love of a woman didn’t matter to me then, neither did having children.  My Uncle Benjen warned me I wouldn’t have given it up so easily had I known what it meant. 

“So much has happened since then.  I never dreamed …” He took a deep breath and blinked hard, his emotions threatening to spill over, and fought to regain control of himself.  Dany squeezed his hand, letting him know she understood.  Her warm touch gave him the strength to go on.

“I never dreamed I’d meet someone like you.  You’re not like anyone else.  You’re so fearless, so strong, and so full of fire, so much a dragon in every sense of the word.  On the ship to White Harbor, when we were together, it seemed like time stood still, like everything else just fell away.  I know what you told me about not being able to have children. I know you truly believed it.  By now, I’ve seen so many things that shouldn’t have been possible, experienced them myself … I’ve seen enough to know this child, our child is a gift; a gift of the impossible, a gift of life in this shit world.  In this world of blood and darkness, you and our child, are hope.  But none of that matters, it’s all just pretty words unless … unless it means the same thing to you, my Queen. ”

She had listened intently, letting every word hit her skin and sink in, a soothing elixir to her heart.  “Jon, I …” her voice cracked with the weight of her emotions, “I want this child, your child, more than anything in the world.  It makes me so happy, but it also makes me afraid.  I don’t know what’s going to happen.

“I lost one babe before, the result of my own stupidity, my own selfishness.  The witch told me I’d have another child when the sun rose in the west and set in the east, when the seas ran dry, when the mountains turned to dust and blew in the wind … You can understand why I never thought I would have another?”  Jon nodded his understanding, brought her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss into her palm.

“And now, with the army of the dead on the march, with the Long Night approaching … who knows if either of us will live to see the dawn.  All I know is I love you.”

[waterandsportspt]

Taking control: Learning to accept and manage chronic pain

Author: Jackie Waters is a mother of four boys, and lives on a farm in Oregon. She is passionate about providing a healthy and happy home for her family, and aims to provide advice for others on how to do the same with her site Hyper-Tidy.com.

Overcoming the shock of a diagnosed condition that causes chronic pain is about much more than lining up a pill organizer with pain medications. There’s a strong mental dimension involved in coming to terms with a harsh new reality. Many patients have a hard time accepting the truth and choose to live in a state of self-delusion, assuring themselves that it’s all a bad dream and that they’ll be back to normal before long. But it’s a dead end. It’s easier to shrink from the truth by living with false hope and hollow wishes. You need to find positive, productive ways to cope with your new circumstances. Unfortunately, some never quite get there.

Moving on Once you’ve processed the emotional upset that comes with learning you have a chronic condition, you can begin the intellectual process of thinking through your options and developing a long-term pain management plan. It isn’t like getting a prescription and moving on once you’re better. You need to develop and maintain a good working relationship with your primary physician and pain management specialist. They’ll be your partners in a team effort to achieve a better quality of life for you.

Communicate thoroughly and truthfully Many who suffer with chronic pain conditions do themselves a disservice by failing to disclose the true severity of their discomfort. There are many reasons for this, and it’s a surprisingly common phenomenon. Some patients (particularly the elderly) just don’t want to be seen as hopeless complainers, or someone who’s just out to get their hands on pain pills.

Poor and inaccurate communication between doctor and patient is a major factor in unsuccessful treatment approaches, and can lead to unnecessary expenses and erode the level of trust between you and your doctor. It is vital to be honest and as accurate as possible about your pain and whether your medications are having a noticeable effect. Only you know how bad you feel.

You’re still in control

Chronic pain can leave you feeling desperate and hopeless, and it’s tempting to become passive and simply accept the role of the victim. Remember that you’re still in control of your situation and of what happens to you. Work toward a balanced approach to physical activity and remaining active, but at your own pace and level of engagement. Finding out what activities work best for you can be difficult until you establish a regimen that’s doable and sustainable.

With time, maintaining some consistent level of physical activity can help you feel better. Concentrate on activities you truly enjoy. This will help mitigate some of the pain and give you a renewed sense of focus and direction. If you’ve stopped exercising because it’s just too painful, consult a physical therapist to see what you can reasonably expect to do given your pain level and condition. A therapist has expertise in treatments that involve flexibility-enhancing and strength exercises that are designed to maximize movement and minimize pain as much as possible while you exercise.

Healthy & peaceful home Living in a stressful and chaotic home environment can only exacerbate the pain you deal with every day. Try decluttering your home, a major source of stress, by reorganizing cabinets and closets. Add some relaxing elements such as plants and flowers, peaceful sound effects (flowing water is a popular one), and scented candles. Creating a serene meditation space is another excellent way to achieve a sense of inner peace and mental quiet, which can have a soothing effect.

Accepting that you don’t have to settle for a life dominated by pain is an important first step in taking control of your situation. You may have to cope with pain, but it doesn’t mean you have to give up on an active life.

mental dimension - https://overcomingpain.com/ten-steps-to-overcoming-chronic-pain/

pain management specialist - https://www.asra.com/page/44/the-specialty-of-chronic-pain-management

physical activity - http://agerrtc.washington.edu/node/243physical therapist - http://www.apta.org/Media/Releases/Consumer/2013/12/5/

serene meditation space - https://www.redfin.com/blog/2016/10/a-healthy-home-is-a-happy-home-how-to-optimize-your-home-for-healthy-stress-free-living.html