#cannot wait to start this years garden soon

[jimblejamblewritings]

love letters and second sons | part 1.

Summary: The princess is finally ready to debut in society. But before she does, she decides to disguise herself and see the true faces of the ton.

Author's Note: Hello! Yes, I'm here with a wip before finishing my other stuff. The Bridgerton girlies have got me. Congratulations to you all. So before you read this, please read: I Hate Accidents by @i-hate-accidents AND Over The Garden Wall by @homeofthepeculiar AND The Ultimate Deception by @maximoff-pan. These stories are some of my favorites and really inspired this fic.

Warnings for the Series: light sexism in line with the times, light classism in line with the times, mental health stigma, shitty doctor care, smut, suicide attempt (will get it's own warning when the time comes),

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x princess!reader

Word Count: 5.4k

Author's Note: To those who have read my other works, you'll notice that the author Mercutio's stories are something special

My Dearest Ton and Wonderful United Kingdom, 

I am pleased to welcome you all to the start of another social season. Of course, people love and look for love all year round but each year the season just seems to invite love to blossom. I hope all of you find the match to your souls. Marriage is a business but can it not have love as well? A business built with love surely must be a business that tries to last. I ask our respectful citizens and subjects of the United Kingdom to make love a part of their search. 

I would also like to ask about businesses that do not involve marriage or love. How are you? In the business of health, is everyone safe from all sickness? In the business of finance, does everyone have enough to eat and clothe themselves without falling into poverty? Are businesses afloat even if only by a small margin? How are you? Truly, I want to know. If you would like to write to me, please do so. The royal mailboxes should still be in perfect condition. 

Of course, if you have something urgent then I am sorry but you must come to the palace and request an audience. My valets hold all letters for a day or a few out of safety for everyone. But rest assured, I read every letter once received. 

I would also like to say that I can feel the winds of the ton calling me to grace their presence and to stop being rude by ignoring them. Naturally, the wind is very rude to say this and then cut through my dress and chill my bones even when it is snowing. But I digress, the wind is right. The time for introduction must be soon. And a lovely time that will be. I cannot wait to meet you all. 

Yours truly, 

A Not So Young Anymore Youngest Princess Y/N Hanover (Truly, I need a proper surname and not just the name of my father’s house)

My Dearest Ton and Wonderful United Kingdom, 

Would you like to know what I have learned yesterday? I know the Americas are still a touchy subject for some but I hope you don’t mind me talking about it, just to share my studies. Philadelphia is the center of American debate. So many great men (and women that have probably gone unnamed but aided their counterparts in their quest of education) have lived and are currently still living there. 

Going to America simply for a debate sounds terribly dreadful. But what if we had one here that wasn’t relegated to just the universities. An entire city becoming a center of debate seems incredibly foolish, not to mention disruptive to its current residents, but buildings of debate do not seem like a bad idea. 

Even if some feel like they aren’t smart enough, they should participate. Ideas are nurtured by sharing them. May some debates lead to great compromise and understanding and maybe even propositions for laws. 

I, for one, debate with my father every day on which science is the most important to teach to young children and which science can wait until university should they like to pursue that path. He believes all of it. I believe that medicinal science is too much for a young mind and they only need to be taught how to mind their health until they can understand better. What do you think? I am delighted to hear your opinions. Maybe mine will be swayed. 

Yours Truly,

Youngest Princess Y/N Buckingham (I am trying out new surnames until one I like sticks)

My Dearest Ton and Wonderful United Kingdom, 

I apologize if my stance may be radical but nothing in society ever got done if the start wasn’t a little radical. I believe that young women should be properly taught about relations… let me just say it, sex. Not when they are children, no, but when they are about to debut. Consider it. You all know that as a royal, despite being a woman, I have been taught all things. Everyone is aware that I know what sex is. But if I and my sisters were taught sex so that we may be aware of malicious advances and be able to protect our virtue first rather than waiting for our virtues to be saved by someone and risk them being too late, then others should as well. Therefore, I implore all mothers and governesses to teach their young ladies about to debut what sex is. And to fathers who may be without wives, please find any woman to teach your daughters.

I shall return with more radical ideas for a better and more prosperous United Kingdom. 

Yours truly, 

Youngest Princes Y/N Kew 

The printed letters delivered to London, had everyone enthralled in the early morning. Some people that lived close enough to the central town square didn’t bother with the prints and went straight to the wooden pin board there to look at the princess’ handwriting on the original letters. Whenever the Young Princess or the author Mercutio Quick wrote, people stopped and paid attention. 

Princess Y/N was the people’s princess. The one who listened to their complaints and wasn’t cheap on her charitable acts. She was so much like her father, Farmer George. Even with his illness he still ran a good country… when he was in charge. So much better than her eldest brother, George IV. Then again, any royal sibling was better than their eldest brother, even if only by a very small percentage. Everyday the public hoped another child would challenge George the Younger. They would rally their support behind them. 

They were hoping that any day George IV’s daughter, Charlotte, would have an heir. If she was pregnant then it would be so easy for the public to support her and convince either George IV to step down or convince Parliament to present a motion to King George. They would have a ruler and an heir. Charlotte the Younger would be the easiest transition for George IV to understand.

But neither her father nor husband seemed to care about the lack of heir. But the thought of succession and coups and duels was forgotten for a moment to read the Young Princess’ letters welcoming them to the new social season with new balls, debutantes, and drama. 

In the Bridgerton house, the family ran around like chickens with their heads cut off. They were trying to get ready to present Daphne to the Queen while also trying to read the Young Princess’ letters. Benedict laughed as he slapped his copy of the letters. 

“Mother would have a fit if she had to speak with Daphne about sex.” 

“I’m surprised she would even suggest such a thing,” Colin said as he returned to reading the first letter, thinking he might actually write to the Young Princess about his familial concerns and wanting to travel desperately but being unsure about leaving them. 

Eloise finally smiled as she came downstairs with the rest of her siblings. “I for one think it’s rather refreshing. She is right. Our mamas should be teaching us more than just how to meet the Queen… Daphne! You must make haste! Do you think she heard me?” 

Colin rolled his eyes. “She most certainly did. But on the matter of the princess, what is wrong with a woman’s husband teaching her about sex?” 

“Everything is wrong with that.” 

“Hmm.” 

He looked down to reread the paper, wondering if he could understand what the princess actually meant. Even though the letters were left at home, talk of the princess never ceased. How could it? The monarchy’s youngest princess might actually be joining them. Everyone wanted to know what she would look like, not in the face of course. Even her fourth brother didn’t take off his mask until after five months of being introduced to society and he was the shortest time it took to see the royal children’s face. 

“Do you think she will be tall like her eldest sister or short? Plump?” Eloise asked as their carriages started their way towards the palace. “I’d imagine I’d be very lovely and plump if I could be stuck in a palace all day with the most wonderful food imaginable. Not that anyone should ever value a woman based on her body but Penelope has stated that her sisters are terribly upset because all the dress makers have started saying that plump is going to be in fashion once again in only a few years time and by the time they become plump it’ll be out of fashion again.” 

Daphne looked out the window. “I wonder if she’ll look like the Queen or the King. Oh, what makeup do you think she’ll wear? What mask did she have created for herself? When do you think we’ll actually see her face?” 

Violet touched the knees of all her girls. “Whatever she is like, do not be rude and gawk. The poor thing will already have the vultures’ eyes on her all night. If she even comes out tonight. Perhaps it will be at a ball this week. That would be quite a fantastic introduction. I do hope she at least meets us this season.” 

Francesca smiled. “I imagine her dance card would be quite full.” 

“She’d have bracelets of dance cards going up to her arm,” Daphne agreed.  

“But she isn’t coming into society yet. She’s just introducing herself to us,” Eloise said. 

“She’s still a princess royal. A very well-known one at that. There’s no way the men would pass on an opportunity to dance with her. They’d want to start making their intentions known now, get ahead of everyone else.” 

The boys’ carriage was speaking of a different matter entirely. The princess and Mercutio had written to the ton at the same time. With the presentation to the Queen taking up so much of the day, most people wouldn’t be able to read his work until later that evening. Colin and Benedict simply couldn’t wait. Colin sat with his brother as he drove the carriage and read the story out loud: 

“Arsehole,” Cecilia muttered. 

Ignoring the sharp stinging of her backside, she hopped off the bed to find something to put on. All she needed to accomplish was getting back to her room, clothed. She knew there must have been some spare clothes in their dressers. It was just a matter of sorting through which garments were hers and which belonged to the others. She had been sorely mistaken to ignore the three members of nobility behind her, thinking they hadn’t heard her. 

Lovell scrunched up his face, resembling a rat. “Is receiving another punishment something you really care for? Because this attitude you’ve acquired is going to earn you one.” 

“Piss off.” 

“Is that any way to talk to your dominants?” Madison asked, adjusting herself in Tommy’s arms. 

Cecilia scoffed as she walked towards the door, placing one hand on the doorknob. “Lavender.” 

The other three faces fell at the use of that forbidden word. Cecilia’s hand reached up ever so gently and wiped away tears. She wondered if the tears were for her former lovers or for finally realizing her mind was deluded to think she would be with anyone above her station such as Lovell. 

“I don’t want this anymore.” 

“Cecilia.” 

“You never believe that I don’t enjoy breaking our established rules. You only listen to Madison.” 

“Cecilia.” 

“It is clear you both like her more than you desire me. I am down.” 

“Cecilia.” 

“You shall see me around this manor, doing my job as I always have. But that is the extent of our relationship.” 

“Please, just give u—” 

“Good day, Lord Parham. Lord Newall, Lady Wilcher.” 

“Riveting,” Colin said as he finished reading. “Mr. Mercutio has done it again.” 

Benedict nodded. “Indeed he has. I was a bit worried when he announced that he wanted to dabble in the themes of erotic pleasures in his stories but this was just as enjoyable as all the others.”

“Agree… Oh, it says here that they have earned a publishing deal. The penny stories will still come out once a week, chapter by chapter but readers can also purchase a book if they would like to keep the story properly or are in a rush to read it. I for one will be buying the books.” 

“I second that.” 

“I wonder what his next story will be about. Actually, no, I wonder what our dear sisters and mothers can be talking about.” 

“The princess, no doubt.”

”Do you think any of our brothers will approach?” Eloise asked in the women’s carriage, more to herself than anything. 

That made Hyacinth’s face light up. “If one of them marries the princess does that mean we get to be princesses too?” 

“As if any of our brothers even could or want to.” Francesca pulled her face away from the window.

“If anyone is going to bring them to the marriage mart,” Daphne started as she fanned herself. “It would be the princess. Anthony would be a good match for her.” 

Violet laughed, thinking of the idea. “A viscount and a princess are a perfect match.” 

All talk of the princess stopped as they approached. The worst thing that could happen could be a footman overhearing them and mistaking their speech for malicious gossip rather than light-natured and report it to the princess or the queen or even worse, King George himself. They would forever be ostracized from society. 

From upstairs, you watched from a window where you knew no one could see you even if they looked up. How you desperately wanted to be down there. All the men were dressed up and looking like penguins. Handsome they were but still penguin-like in silhouette. And the women’s dresses. Some, while upper class, were of a lower social standing and wore older dresses that looked just as gorgeous as the empire and rather shapeless dresses of today. 

But today was not your day. You actually weren’t sure when your day would be. Your mother and father let their children choose when they would be introduced to society. Of course you all had to wait for a certain age and it had to be a date at the start of the social season but you could pick the day. And unlike your last sibling, you wanted it to be at a ball instead of the selection of the Diamonds. You didn’t even care which ball it would be. Perhaps it was selfish but you did want a day all to yourself or at least a day with you as the main focus. But that wasn’t this year. Or any year perhaps. 

You were excited to finally leave the walls of the palace if you were allowed, having proven yourself capable of not causing an incident. Unfortunately, you couldn’t say you had proven yourself without illness. You weren’t that lucky. You and all your siblings were locked inside until the royal physicians could observe and confirm that you weren’t sick with whatever madness your father had. They didn’t have to observe you. That was also why you picked a ball instead of today. You wanted to prove you didn’t need a chaperone literally holding your elbow. You wanted freedom like your siblings. Freedom to explore that you weren’t sure would get because of your illness. 

After a nearly fatal drowning in the lake — an event your siblings still get chewed out for at least once a month — you started showing symptoms like George did. For you it wasn’t about if you would be as sick like your father. It was about how bad and how quickly the illness would get. 

You didn’t get to see George as often as the others. The doctors thought you shouldn’t be around him for prolonged periods of time unless it was after an episode. They thought that too much exposure would make you more like him instead of better. They wanted to send him to Kew but you promised that you wouldn’t go to his quarters as long as he got to stay at Buckingham. 

Charlotte, silly as it may have been, had hope. They caught your sickness early. Nine was a very young age to almost go mad. Maybe you could be saved from a cruel fate unlike George. They were too late for him but not for you. Of course this only brought jealousy from your siblings who didn’t feel like they got as much affection anymore. Every time you even twitched, it became about you. They could never hate you. It wasn’t like you asked to be sick. But it was hard to be around you. Everyday visits became once a week. Still, you cherished those visits. Like the one yesterday. They expressed their sympathies and hopefulness that you would get to introduce yourself and maybe it could even be this year or maybe this month. 

You could have scoffed. After what you did just two days ago, you were unsure. The daylight came into your room before you were prepared for it and you had been convinced that Buckingham was on fire. You couldn’t be calmed down until you jumped into the water fully clothed. Immediately, you pulled yourself out of the trance but no one really cared. The royal physician had been called anyway and you had ruined all chances of attending the presentation to the Queen. 

“Your Highness!” a voice disturbed your thoughts and your eyes from looking at your siblings’ carriages leave in the morning. Your lady-in-waiting approached you with a paper, an entire pamphlet. “It’s already spread through the ton like a fire. We haven’t read it yet. We figured new literature would be a treat for you.” 

“Thank you, Pandora. Shall we read it in the kitchens this morning when we return home?” 

“Not your room?” 

“I’m so terribly sick of my room and the washroom and the balcony and the bedroom.” 

“You are getting restless.” 

“It’s only a matter of time. Maybe even tomorrow it’ll happen. And soon it will only be a couple of years at most before the mask is gone. By the way,” you said as the two started to leave. “Did you hear about the Feather girl that fainted? Is she alright?” 

“Oh yes, she’s fine.” 

“Good. Have someone send flowers to her tomorrow with an inquiry about her wellbeing after taking such a tumble. Oh and no flowers to the Diamond. I want to meet her myself one day. Now, let’s read about this… Lady Whistledown. She already sounds like an interesting woman.” 

Interesting it was indeed. The maids and kitchen staff hung onto your every word as you read the pamphlet. You weren’t exactly sure how you felt about the pamphlet yet but Pandora was right about one thing. It was literature. Lady Whistledown seemed bold enough to list subjects by name. By their entire name as if she wasn’t afraid of any repercussions. You supposed she wouldn’t be since Whistledown was obviously not her real name. 

It wasn’t the subject of what she published that bothered you. A lot of it was standard gossip that goes around during the social season but it was her personal opinion. She almost seemed to want the ladies she wrote about to have miserable ends like inquiring about Daphne Bridergton’s flame burning out quickly. The lady must know that what she published could ruin a reputation. Gossip is no longer gossip when publicly written down. It has the potential to become fact. 

You slapped the pamphlet against your hand. “Well, I suppose Mercutio Quick from York will no longer be the entertainment of the ton. Sad, and right as I earned a publishing deal too. Perhaps, I should take up a different art. Like making dresses for all my days or learning to play the harp and cello properly so it sounds better than a dying whale according to my brothers.” 

The cook shook his head. “Your stories are very entertaining. Even Lady Whistledown couldn’t stop that.” 

“Thank you for saying that. I am rather jealous that she is penning under a woman.” 

“But you have chosen a name based on your favorite characters, have you not?” 

“I have but maybe I should’ve chosen better. This Lady Whistledown might be making more change for women then I hope to accomplish.” 

At this, the staff scoffed. Pandora cleaned up your dishes from the kitchen island in front of you. 

“Your Highness, with the utmost respect, you are the one who is going to do more for women than this Whistledown. Everybody already wants someone other than your kind brother on the throne. They’re all praying your niece gives them any child so they may protest for her with the added benefit of an heir. They love her and what you write about in your letters make her seem even better. Hell, they love you and they don’t even know you. They listen to you. And with your words, Princess Charlotte the Younger will be on the throne and you will prove women are more than capable of whatever and we might have real change. Is she still on board?” 

“Yes. She hates her father as much as anyone else does. George is nice once you get to know him… sort of. But Lettie approves as long as I agree to be in her court. I said yes of course.” 

“Then it is settled. Thank God we might actually get change in our wretched lives. Now you must wash up and oversee the Bridgerton gowns before they are sent off. Shall we pick certain ones from your wardrobe?” 

“Give the Diamond the one with lace and her family’s colors. Pick whatever you want for the rest of them. Oh and patterns must be on the Feather mother’s dress. I noticed she wears the most ill-favored ornamented dresses but she seems to like them. And put in an order with the modiste, I should like to do this often if this first gesture goes well and the gift wardrobe will need more clothes than it has at present. Clothes for the lower classes as well, nothing that could get them attacked and the clothes stolen off their bodies.” 

“Yes, Your Highness.”  

“And, by the way, I already washed up.” 

“Yes, but now you’ve been sitting amongst smoke and smells.” 

You gave up your fight and nodded as you jumped down from your stool and began the walk to your room. No one was around today. They wouldn’t be for most of the social season as they had other duties, including watching your siblings. Despite your madness, you weren’t the biggest concern at all. It was your rakish brothers in brothels, your sisters constantly leaving their husbands or suitors, and all of them sneaking away. You paused for a moment before walking quicker until you reached your room. 

Why couldn’t you sneak out? Now would be the perfect opportunity. And no one was looking for you. It would be so easy to scale the vines up the garden wall and just have fun for a moment. You washed up quickly and put on a very simple dress — one more like the style of today rather than your father’s time. Grabbing a cloak and your mask, you put them down on the bed before sitting down at your writing desk to pen a letter. The slam of the door nearly made you jump out of your skin. You calmed as you realized it was just Pandora. 

“Oh, good. It is just you.” 

“I have the Bridgerton and Featherington dresses but what do you mean it is just me, Y/N?” 

You stood up, abandoning the letter now that someone was around. “I am going out to see the ton.” 

“What?” 

“It is still dark. I have a map, my cloak, and the mask. And I have a very clear destination with vehicles that will get me back in the most discreet of ways should I need to use them.” 

“Your Highness.” 

“Pandora. I am nearing my introduction to society. You will all have to let me go at some point. I know everyone cares for my wellbeing but my happiness is gone. I am seen as nothing but my illness. Before I have an episode in public like the king, let me meet the ton. Let me not be Farmer Y/N for a brief moment of my life before I am a farmer forever, before I stay in that garden just like Father.” 

Pandora’s mouth shut. She simply locked the door and unlocked the window. “You must return before your midmorning promenade and snack. Since you ate downstairs, I can convince them to overlook your absence of a breakfast request. And don’t take your mask. It’s better if they don’t know who you are at all.” 

She gasped as you hugged her. 

“Thank you, Pandora! Thank you! You are truly the bestest friend a woman could have.” 

“Just go so you can come back quickly and I can have my sanity back.” 

You closed the window, shocking Pandora as you pulled a picture frame off the wall to reveal a staircase that led outside. The door was hidden behind the trellis covered in vines and flowers. You pulled the hood over the cloak over you. The last thing you did was check for your bracelet and if your papers were inside. Until you were introduced to society, all the royal children had bracelets that couldn’t come off unless cut off. There were just in case measures with the eldest two but became necessary after so many nights sneaking out. The bracelet wasn’t going anywhere but you didn’t want to lose your birth certificate. It was your first safety measure. Even if you were kidnapped or harmed, you’d be returned to the palace for a pretty penny. You did pull your sleeves down so your bracelet wouldn’t be noticed.  

You couldn’t contain your smile at the excitement of being out. London was so different without all the noise. The brothels and pubs were starting to close down for their few hours of rest and relaxation. You stuck to streets where you could see all the action but wouldn’t be easily spotted. No one bothered you until you arrived at your destination. 

The footman stood to attention. “May I help you?” 

“Yes, hello. I bring a package from Buckingham House for the Bridgertons, courtesy of Princess Y/N.” You handed him a letter with your official stamp at the end of it. 

The footman’s eyes went wide as he handed you back the letter and ran inside. The Bridgertons looked up at the frantic knocking, pulling slips over Hyacinth and Daphne before telling the footman he could enter. The Bridgerton boys came upstairs after hearing the heavy pounding of their employee’s footsteps running up the multiple stairs. 

“Is there a problem, Marshall?” 

He panted before taking in a deep breath. “The Young Princess’ lady-in-waiting is here, bearing gifts.” 

“WHAT?!” 

The Bridgertons collectively yelled before the scramble happened. You tilted your head when you saw the windows open and a maid shake out some bedsheets. She squeaked when she looked down to see you. You laughed as she ran back inside. It couldn’t have been more than five minutes before you were escorted into the house by a very out of breath footman. The Bridgertons stood on the steps at the end of their entrance hall in chronological order with their mother starting the line at the very bottom step. Nervous smiles graced their faces when you finally reached them. You curtsied to which they curtsied or bowed back. 

You gave them a second to assess you before speaking. Even though it wasn’t true in the slightest, everyone thought the ladies-in-waiting and manservants were reflections of the royals themselves. Not in character or value but in appearance. They figured they could form some sort of picture as to what the young masked royals looked like. If you were ugly then surely the princess was too. You hoped they at least found you to be average looking in appearance. 

Anthony Bridgerton — the new head of house from what you remembered of your studies — stepped from behind his mother to greet you formally. He bowed once again, deeper, before offering up his hand. You settled yours in it to receive a chaste kiss. 

“To what do we owe this sudden pleasure, Mrs…” 

“Beckett,” you lied, just using Pandora’s last name. 

“Mrs. Beckett?” He didn’t recognize the name as one belonging to an upper class member of the ton. He wasn’t sure he recognized the name at all. 

“Apologies, I should explain. The princess doesn’t distinguish in her court, we are all there to work. All women are ladies-in-waitings, all men are valets. Regardless of station, regardless of marriage.” 

“So, I am to take it that my earlier statement was incorrect.” 

You nodded. “Simply Miss Beckett.” 

“Well that sounds like very forward thinking actually. All the same, it is our pleasure to meet anyone in her highness’ court.” 

Violet smiled as she watched the interaction. If her son was close to anyone in the princess’ court, especially someone that seemed so close to the princess as to be sent here, then he would be able to meet the princess with good graces. He’d be ahead of any man by leagues. 

“Princess Y/N has sent me on her behalf. She extends warm greetings to the Bridgertons and the Featheringtons whom I will meet after our encounter. The princess congratulates Miss Daphne Bridgerton for earning Diamond of the Season as well as congratulations to the Dowager Viscountess for raising such a fine woman and to Viscount Bridgerton for chaperoning and keeping the family together therefore allowing his sister to shine.” 

He cleared his throat and started to smile. “Please give the princess all of our thanks for the most kind of compliments.” 

“And she would like to assure Miss Bridgerton that I have not been sent on behalf of any princes. Her brothers will not be bothering you today.” 

They all chuckled when you laughed. 

You set the first box down on the table next to you and opened it. “The princess has brought new dresses for the ball. The Diamond and the rest of her family should have the opportunity to shine with the utmost and wholehearted respect and support of the Crown. Please, enjoy them.” 

The family ran to the table, picking out dresses and suits and matching them to the person’s name on the paper pinned to each garment. They kept singing praises and admiring the outfits. Violet turned back to you. 

“When are you planning on visiting the Featheringtons?” 

“In an hour or so, I must be back before the princess’ morning promenade. She has a very busy day afterwards.” 

“Will the princess be introducing herself this season?” 

“Hyacinth!” Anthony and Violet yelled at the same time. 

You laughed. “It is no trouble. I’m at liberty to answer as the princess’ head valet.” 

“Valet? I thought you said they were all men. They are usually all men.” 

“If the princess should become heir to the throne then she will receive a male valet alongside me. For now, it is just me. The Crown believes someone of the same gender should always be with her should she need to confide in someone about very personal matters.” You took a breath before testing the waters. “Such as affections of the heart.” 

It had dawned on you in that moment that you could spy on the ton. When the time came, you would still have to dance with all the bachelors of the United Kingdom but you at least you would have a better picture of them. You’d have to apologize to Pandora for the countless strokes she was about to earn from you but you couldn’t make this your only time sneaking out.  

Violet smiled, knowing she was right. “Well, would you like to stay for breakfast?” 

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to impose.” 

“It would be no trouble at all. We have more than enough room. Eloise, dear, if Penelope is to come over please request that she do so now.”

(part 2)

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[averagewriter-inthedark]

The Brave 🐲| Baela Targaryen Headcanon

GOT/HOTD Masterlist

Being the companion (and secret lover) of Baela Targaryen would look like:

You were childhood friends, your father a Lord who fought with Prince Daemon and Lord Corlys in the StepStones. The two of your families often dinned together and therefore you were close to Baela and Rhaena. Often seeking the gardens or library, and when the opportunity arose to the training yard, to get away from Septas. 

Your mother was friends with Lady Laena and Princess Rhaenyra. So sometimes you were to accompany your mother at Court when the Princess wrote to your mother to visit. During those times you exchanged letters to Baela and Rhaena, but more so to Baela--as you two had more interests in common. 

Baela loved a crossbow, you loved a sword. Together you read the histories of House Targaryen and the Conquering of Westeros. You did each other's hair, helped with dressing, and rode horses along the grounds. Baela would bring you sailing with her gransire. You helped her study when the Septas got on her for not paying attention during lessons. 

Growing up you had little interest in boys and marriage, opting to rather read books, paint the gardens, and learn to shoot. Baela was the same, and while you both had responsibilities and expectations, often you daydreamed together of taking a ship far away beyond the lines of the map. Where Baela could fly MoonDancer in free skies. Where you could captain your own ship. 

"Mother has begun telling me of her lady friends' sons. I fear she and my father are planning a match with the Tully boy set to become the Lord of the Riverlands once his grandsire departs." *gasp* "But he is barely of age!!" "From the looks of it, it is either him or a man older than my father. Gods, I'd rather go beyond the wall then marry either of them."

When you realized your feelings for Baela, it was years after the Driftmark incident when you both were ten and seven. Following Lord Corlys illness, Princess Rhaenys requested you to join her and Baela on Driftmark where she was ruling in Lord Corlys steed. She knew Baela felt lonely and missed you while you were back home in the Crownlands. So, with permission from your family--and since your marriage to Oscar Tully hadn't happened yet--you set sail to Driftmark. 

Not long after the relationship you had with Baela shifted. Both of you feeling the difference in the way you sought each other out each time you entered a room. Or how you waited until the other arrived to break your fast. Constantly exchanging glances and smiles when you knew no one was looking. When you both confessed, and started a secret relationship, the only people you told were Rhaena and the few servants you trusted. They of course loved you both considering you were lovely and gracious to your staff unlike most noble ladies, so your secret remained with them.

Princess Rhaenys, however, picked up on it rather quickly. But, out of love for her granddaughter and likeness of you, she turned the other way when questions arose from Lords and Ladies. Commenting how strange it was for the two of you to spend hours of the day by yourselves and made gestures usually associated with courtship. 

Leaving flowers from the gardens in each other's chambers. Baela taking you for a ride on MoonDancer. Spending nights without supervision. Hiding away during banquets and formal dinners. 

Rhaenys did remind the both of you of your expectations. Yes, she wished Baela happiness, but you were betrothed and Baela soon would be too. That conversation was tabled for another day, as neither of you were ready to face the reality of your situation. 

"My uncle was married to Rhaenyra for ten years and it is said he continued to see his lover. We can surely do the same. Our families would never put us in harm's way."  "Darling, my family plans to send me to the Riverlands. And I wouldn't put it past your stepmother to propose a marriage between you and her son. This....we cannot escape this."

But of course, you tried. For a while actually you managed to keep it under wraps. Then of course when Lucerys' claim was called into question, followed by King's Viserys' death and usurpation of the throne, people pretty much forgot about the rumors surrounding you two. Everyone more focused on threat at hand. 

And when years of blood, sweat, tears, fire, and a whole lot of death finally ended with the conclusion of the Dance of Dragons, your efforts in securing Rhaenyra's bloodline onto the Iron Throne were inked down by historians. Right next to the love of your life, Baela the Brave, who you continued to stay by until the end of your days. 

[yurimother]

An Update on YuriMother

As I'm sure many of you have noticed, there has been a distinct lack of my regular news coverage and articles as of late. I recently moved and started working at a new school (for those who do not know, teaching is my day job). While I love this job, it has considerably taxed my time and energy, which compounded with my strained focus and dedication that was already affecting the volume of my content, resulting in the near month-long silence.

However, I hope to recommit myself to YuriMother, as nothing in my life brings me more joy than my work with Yuri, and I want to continue celebrating the genre as I have for the past 11 years. This means resuming coverage of Yuri news stories, conducting more research, writing more reviews and articles, filming videos for TikTok, and working towards some of my personal larger goals for YuriMother.

Rather than going back and trying to cover everything I have missed over the past month, I am posting an article with a quick roundup of many major Yuri manga and light novel releases. The rest of the news slate is planned out for the week with, of course, room for any new stories that break. Additionally, I have several articles of varying scope, both for the main YuriMother website and for the Patreon exclusive "Secret Garden" line, at different stages of conceptualization and research. I look forward to drafting and editing these soon. Some are pieces that have floated around my head for over a year, and the prospect of finally putting them to page for you all to enjoy and learn from delights me.

I also created a poll on Patreon for members and the public, whether they subscribe to me or not, to decide the subject of my next review. Perhaps more than anything, I am thrilled by the prospect of actually reading Yuri again, as I practically have not consumed anything since I spent the majority of July burning through over a hundred webcomics and several times that amount in dollars because forget those free period wait times, I've got lesbians to fangirl over, for the 2023 Yuri Guide. There are so many incredible new titles and returning series sitting on my bookshelf, or more accurately, sitting in or on top of moving boxes next to my as-of-yet unassembled bookshelf, that I am thrilled to share with you.

Lastly, I want to thank you all for your continued support and patience with me during this time. I know many of you back me, and my work with your hard-earned money,  a fact which persistently baffles and humbles me, and I acknowledge that I have not always lived up to my end of that relationship.

I cannot promise that I will be perfect or that there will not be times when I struggle to deliver YuriMother content, but I can at least assure you that I will try my best every day and once again express my enormous gratitude to all of you. Thank you, everyone, especially my wonderful Patrons, for your engagement, kindness, support, and love of Yuri.

Sincerely,

Nicki Bauman The Holy Mother of Yuri

As always, if you can, consider joining the YuriMother on Patreon. Patrons can check out news, reviews, and articles early, get access to exclusive content like "The Secret Garden" an series of essays all about Yuri , and help support me and my work celebrating Yuri anime and magna.

[abiiors]

To Build A Home

Day 6 of Matty's Birthday Bash! I've never done a headcanon before so I'm really sorry if this is rambly and all over the place

Series Masterlist / the rest of them will be in the reblogged post

minors dni

Saturday: 34 headcanons for 34 years of Matty Healy

In the beginning, there would be so much shameless flirting and rockstar charm he uses to whisk you off your feet. 

It starts off a bit clunky; he is away half the time and worried that you might find it to be a deal breaker. But he’s pleasantly surprised and eternally grateful when you turn up time and time again.

There’s always that nervous feeling in his gut that this is the date he ends up being ghosted, that this is the phone call where you dump him for not being enough. But each time it doesn’t happen and he lets himself hope more and more.

By the third, fourth, fifth time his friends tease him for being whipped, for always getting excited when a text comes through. But they could not be happier at the sight of his bright smile, at the way his eyes light up.

He has a small, tight circle of friends. He would really appreciate someone who seamlessly integrates themselves into it. Not just as his partner but also a friend to his friends.

He pretends to be offended when they take your side over his but secretly he beams with pride every time. His girl, his partner, is not just important to him but important to the people he holds dear.

Then there are moments that are permanently seared into his brain. He remembers coming home one evening and finding you there, waiting to surprise him with dinner and he thinks how he wants to come home to this every single day. To the smell of warm food and your perfume, to sweet music and soft laughter. 

This feels a bit like a beginning of a film to him; your warm body next to his in the white sheets. Sunlight streaming in as the room fills with your giggles because he cannot keep his hands off you. But he’s not worried about this being taken away from him. He believes wholeheartedly that you are his happy ending. 

The first time you say I love you to him, he spends the night on his knees worshipping. And then he spends the morning after counting his blessings. He doesn’t believe in the existence of God, that’s for sure but in his heart, he knows you were made for him.

‘Live here, share my house with me, make it a home,’ he speaks in a hushed voice when you wake up and melts completely at the excited look on your face. There are several whoops of joy once you finally say yes. 

And years later when he gets down on one knee, tears in his eyes, it’s your turn to whoop in joy and say yes. He thinks this is his favourite sound in the world.

Move-in day is chaos. He has to drag his friends over with a promise of free pizza and beer. Half the day flies away going down memory lane. The other half is filled with childish antics and silly fights. These are the golden years of his life, and no, it’s not too soon to say that. 

And there is a maple tree in the garden he cherishes with all his heart. Most days when he finds you reading under it, it makes his heart flutter because it’s sacred to him that his favourite place is also your favourite place. 

There are highs but there are also the lows. There are days when his fairytale dims a bit, when you get into silly fights and arguments. But he refuses to let you go to bed angry. He would rather say ‘I’m sorry’ till the words lose all their meaning to him than letting you sleep in one corner of the bed and away from his arms. 

His heart breaks at even the slightest hint of tears in your eyes. If the reason is someone else then he will find every possible way to make sure that person knows not to fuck with you. If the reason is him, he will grovel and apologise till you laugh and give him a kiss on the nose. That night he sleeps with an extra tight hold around you. Perhaps that night he realises how quickly this could all crumble. 

But his heart soars in his chest when you bring him breakfast in bed the next morning. A true sign that all is forgiven, that you still love him just the same and one silly fight doesn’t change it. 

Let’s not even talk about him being mad at you. He’s utterly incapable of it. He can be annoyed for a bit but then he sees your pout and hears you say sorry and suddenly he doesn’t remember why he was annoyed, to begin with. 

[fancyfeathers]

The Games We Play of Dust and Ash (Yandere Moriarty the Patriot Masterlist)

Thinking about Yandere Albert James Moriarty and his darling after the time skip…

He gets locked up for three years in the Tower of London for his crimes, but what about his darling? She committed no crime, so she is free…

That is a foreign word to her…

Free.

Her sister by now, Mycroft’s darling, has been married off to the rather strict man, her parents are dead due the actions of the Moriarty brothers, Louis’ darling is still stuck with him, William’s darling is god knows where, and everyone else she knew in her captive like marriage shares a similar fate to the others…

She is free and alone…

She meets with her parents’ old lawyer and in her parents’ death everything was either given to Albert since he was her husband or to Mycroft when her sister was married off to him. Since Albert is doing his time for his crimes, every last cent and property that was given to him in her parents’ death belong to her. Sure he did give quite a bit of it away to charity, orphanages and what not, but what was left of it was hers.

She is free, alone, and has more money than one person could spend in a lifetime…

She spends a few days in her family’s old home, the one she was raised in and her parents died in, contemplating what to do now, and then when she is out on a walk the answer hits her. She was walking past a pair of girls, just of the age of marriage and they were talking…

“Think of it, if we had the money, no one could tie us down, we could go see the world to our hearts’ content, actually live life instead of wasting it all for a man.”

That is what she would do…

She would live her life.

The next day she has packed her belongings in suitcases and sets out to see the world.

She travels everywhere…

Spending a summer in Paris where she met few old friends from her finishing school days.

Getting on a train to Monte Carlo for autumn.

Then down to Naples for the winter…

Vienna…

Madrid…

Oslo…

Copenhagen…

Berlin…

Moscow…

Saint Petersburg…

Athens…

Malta…

Bern…

And every place she goes to, a new letter or postcard would be delivered to the drawing room of the home of Mycroft and his darling, her sister. Of course she would also send ones to Louis’ darling as well, but not as commonly as she knows that Louis would probably not be happy on her choice to travel instead of waiting on Albert’s release and staying with them in London.

But at some point one has to settle and make a home for themselves…

So she goes back to where she first started…

London.

But she does not go back to stay with anyone she once knew, no she is finally making a name for herself and securing her own fortune and place in high society, and let’s just say her travels inspired her on how to do just that.

When Albert is finally free and he has a moment to relax, he is given an address from Mycroft to visit and soon he finds himself in the lobby of a high end hotel in London. Guests and staff rush past him, everyone having a place to be and things to do, but why was he told to come here if all places…

“My lady, was it the lilies or the lilacs that you wanted in the lounge on the first floor?”

“Lilacs along with forget me not. Also do not forget about the wisteria I wanted ordered for the gardens.”

“Ma’am, we have a reservation for a wedding party but we are short a room of the ones they requested.”

“Move the bride and groom to the honeymoon suite, do not charge them extra, it is our fault for overbooking. Also give them a formal written apology and free drinks at the first floor bar for the duration of their stay, the bride and groom that is.”

“Ma’am, the macarons for the gala next week, what were the numbers for the orders.”

“Twenty dozen, evenly split between the flavors ordered… actually wait, that will not be enough… make it forty baker’s dozen instead, that will give us 280 more, also do not forget about the cakes for that and the lavender based confections cannot be cross contaminated with the others, the Duchess of York has a horrible allergy to them.”

That voice…

He looks over to see a lady walking through the hotel lobby along side a few staff members...

It’s her…

His wife…

His darling.

“Now is my driver ready, I have dinner with my sister tonight and I do not want to be late, after all we only get to do this when he husband is out of the house- by the way speaking of Mycroft Holmes, I did not appreciate that police investigation of the third floor suite, the drug dealer was already long gone from here and they terrified the guests who had just came in there, I would like to see him held accountable and-“

She stops in her tracks and words as she sees Albert standing there and a look of pure terror comes across her face.

“Please excuse me, I feel unwell, I think I am going to lay down for the night.”

“But Mrs. Moriarty, you have dinner with-“

“Send her a telegram and tell her I am unwell.”

Before Albert could say anything she rushed up the grand staircase of the hotel, up to her own room.

A smile came across his face…

She kept his last name.

[jazzybot4]

We're all going to need to get okay with being uncomfortable for a while.

So the next 4, 8, 12 years are going to be hard. They're going to be upsetting and scary and so hard. It's going to hurt and it's going to be the kind of environment that cooks us all in a slow simmer of despair.

Do NOT let the current corporate fascist power base have your despair. Despair makes you complacent. Things are going to be more expensive. Learn how to make your own things, so that you don't have to buy them. Make those things for your neighbors too. Find a mask design you like and wear it in public. You'll look like a weirdo but you can't afford to be sick, or get your family sick. Handsewing a mask takes a couple of hours but they're really comfy and satisfying. Make it a style point. Food is going to be more expensive. Figure out if your neighbors and you can go in on bulk food. Find storage at thrift stores, craigslist, anywhere you can think of. If you can dig it out of the ground, plant it as soon as the ground thaws. If you can get away with it and a neighbor is cool with it, see if you can start a backyard geurilla community garden. Be kind. Gods you do not have to be nice, but please be kind. We're all exhausted and afraid and angry and upset. Be kind, to yourself and to your friends. But also be kind to the conservatives who just got the same rug pulled out from under them as the rest of us. Every defeat from within their oligarchy-run political camp is a victory that we need to not rub in their faces. We need compassion, and we need understanding, and we need to show our neighbors that we are not fighting for our COMFORT but for our LIVES. A debate is when both parties are on the same playing field. An argument is when one side is fighting for their survival against the Devil that the other person is advocating for. Stop playing Devils advocate. He's had enough help and now we need to figure out how to get the Devil out of the hearts of people who don't need to love us, but who can and should respect us and vote with us. My favorite poem is also the most dangerous one I know. I think we all need to remember that this is not a mindset that requires other people to change. He drew a circle and shut me out Heretic! Rebel! A thing to flout. But Love and I had the wit to win We drew a circle, and took him in. Every single gab in the Hard Right rhetoric is a gap you can wiggle compassion into. Every single conversation about immigration, or queerness, or education, or security is a chance to ask questions and listen. Ask them how. Ask them why. Let them explain and don't try to talk over them or let them feel like you're just waiting for them to stop talking. Ask genuine questions to suss out what they're afraid of and why their fear matters more than your right to exist. Often, people won't have an epiphany. But it will give you the ability to figure out what they're afraid of, and offer them alternatives. These are not "Some Other People" who voted to put us all at risk. It's our neighbors, our friends, our families. People who love us but dont' understand that the way they vote will genuinely affect us. Let the Republicans bumble and blunder. Let them fumble and fuck up and propagandize. Every single slip is a chance for us to drag our loved ones out of their rhetoric and their voting block grip. We're able now to point out every single broken promise that is going to be made. We are poor. We are afraid. We have what the conservative base does not. We have patience, and we have compassion, and we must at all costs have hope. Even if that hope is small and afraid and alone. If you cannot be safe, then be free. Look them in the eye and ask why their freedom matters more than yours does, and watch them get angry trying to justify it with God or with Legislation or with Discomfort. Ask them why they think you deserve to die. Often the answer will make no sense, and it will be so extreme that you can look them in the eye and tell them that you don't want *them* to die, even if they hate you for being real, instead of the fantasy they're having about you.

Look out for each other. If you cannot afford it, make it. If you cannot make it, ask your community who can. If you can help, help. If you can be kind, be kind. Let's take our people back, because if we don't? This looks a lot like the world did, 4 years before world war 2.

[kckt88]

Gēlenka Zaldrīzes I

Summary:

Events of Dynasty through Aemond's POV.

(There will be a part II)

Warning(s): Pain, Eye Injury, Suffering, Medical Procedures, Non-Con Encounter & the Aftermath, Swearing, Kissing, Falling in Love, P in V Sex, Lactation Kink, Violence, Child Loss, Suicide Attempt, Fear, Arguments, Death.

Word Count: 5720.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

Author Note: A companion piece to Courtship/Wedding & Consummation/Bath Time/Arrival(s)/Mother & Father/Petitions & Final Tributes/The Hand, The King & The Dragon/Dragonstone/Blood & Cheese/A Time for Grief/ Rooks Rest & the Silver King/The Gullet/Taking of a City/Harrenhal and the Rivers/The Gods Eye/The Fallen Queen/New Beginnings/Ravenous/Don't Leave Me & Another Plane of Existence.

But can be read as a one-shot.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

Aemond was laid on his bed weeping, the left side of his face covered by thick bandages.

He didn’t know how much more of this he could take. As if losing his eye wasn’t bad enough, now he had to suffer through the agony of the Maester’s slicing through his eye lid.

The Maester on Driftmark had stitched the wound as best he could, but soon after he’d arrived back at the Red Keep an infection had set in and he’d needed urgent treatment.

Not even milk of the poppy was enough to dull the searing pain he’d felt as the Maester’s blade sliced through his stitches.

It took three of them to hold him down as they went about their business.

His mother had hide her face behind her hands as he begged and pleaded for the pain to stop.

"Prince Aemond's recovery will be long and painful, Your Grace”.

"How many more procedures must he endure?" asked Alicent.

"I'm afraid I cannot say Your Grace. Only time will tell".

Alicent took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

"Come now Alicent, the boy needs to rest" urged Otto.

Aemond prayed to the seven that he would not have to endure that agony again.

Unfortunately, the gods were unwilling to answer his prayers as he suffered through another two agonizing procedures before the Maester’s were satisfied.

The scar that bisected his face was red and angry and would forever mar his features, the left side of his face disfigured.

His upper and lower eyelids had been removed completely and the empty hollow where his eye had once been was now a grotesque mess and Aemond couldn’t bring himself to face his reflection.

The eyepatch he had started to wear would often irritate the still healing scar and he would often hide in his chambers or the library to avoid the pitying and horrified stares of Lord and Ladies of the court.

Aemond also had to spend hours relearning the most basic of things because without his eye his depth perception had changed.

He was completely blind to things from the left and would often have to turn his body to see what was going on which frustrated him to no end.

But he was a dragon and he would endure his fate.

On his thirteenth name day, his brother Aegon had dragged him to one of his favourite whore houses on the streets of silk to ensure he was properly educated in the art of pleasing women.

“Come now brother, your betrothed will thank me for this on your wedding night” yelled Aegon gleefully as he pushed Aemond towards a lady much older in her years than he.

The entire act made Aemond feel sick to his stomach, the whore wouldn’t stop touching him and making exaggerated sounds as she moved on top of him.

Afterwards, Aemond ran back to the Red Keep and locked himself in his chambers, it made him feel dirty, and disgusting, he wanted to wait until he was married before he lay with a woman.

Aemond thought of his betrothed and wept, she had been so kind to him when she had lived in the Red Keep, the innocent memories of their moments hiding together in the gardens after she had stolen sweets and honey cakes from the kitchens, were now tainted by the touch of a whore.

Aemond had suffered much at the hands of his brother and those bastard strong boys, but Vaera wasn’t like that. She was kind and generous. She was also one of most beautiful creatures that Aemond had ever seen in his whole life.

The day she’d left the Red Keep and moved to Dragonstone made Aemond feel like a huge hole had been punched through his chest.

His only friend had been taken away from him and now because of his brother he was tainted.

That night as he bathed Aemond scrubbed his skin raw, he wanted to erase every single touch and trace of that old whore and he vowed never to return to the street of silk again.

Aegon of course tried to tempt him numerous times to return to the whore that took his innocence, but he flat out refused and would often hide out in his chambers, until his stupid twat of a brother got the message and left him alone.

Afterwards, Aemond dedicated himself to reading history and philosophy, he trained daily with the sword, and he spent hours flying with Vhagar soaring amongst the clouds.

On his fourteenth name day, his mother had gifted him a sapphire to replace his missing eye.

The stone felt foreign and heavy as it was fitted into the empty socket, but it filled the void and gave the socket some shape and structure.

Of course, he kept it hidden beneath the eye patch, but it made him feel more complete, that it wasn’t just an empty space.

He only had a year before his betrothed would return to the Red Keep and he was determined to be a man worthy of her.

Aegon soured at Aemond’s dedication to his training, but his hard work was beginning to pay off, he grew stronger, more focused, and deadly. His precision with the sword was unmatched.

His brother wasted himself with whores and wine, yet Aemond remained steadfast in his determination to be the best.

Aemond was the luckiest man in the seven kingdoms.

Most people get married for political gain, or even wealth. Very few got to marry for love, yet he was one of the lucky ones and despite only just getting married it was already filled with enough love to burst the seams.

His sweet wife was perfection in human form, she never looked upon him with scorn or disgust, she treated him with respect and reverence, even when he’d confessed to his misadventure on the streets of silk.

She was everything he’d ever wanted in a wife.

But she wasn’t without her own struggles, and when he heard of how lonely she’d been on Dragonstone, his heart broke.

She’d also suffered at the hands of her bastard brothers, and it made his blood boil to know that his sweet girl had been made to feel like she less than nothing.

As long as he was breathing, he would never make her feel like that.

He desired her, worshipped her, and would love her until the end of his days and beyond.

After his embarrassing effort during their initial consummation, Aemond was determined that his wife would enjoy the pleasures of the marriage bed.

After the Maester had departed, he reached for her again.

“That was for duty. Now this is for us. I wish to have you again my sweet wife”.

His hunger for her had been awakened that night, and he was not satisfied until he’d filled her with his seed another three times.

They emerged from their shared chambers very late the next day.

He thought his encounter on the streets of silk would forever haunt him, but what he experienced wasn't love. It was seedy and nothing compared to what he had with his wife and when they lay together, it was pleasurable and made him want her all the more.

He would bed his wife at every given opportunity, sometimes he would catch her in the corridor and take her in secluded alcoves, he would even take her against the bookshelves in the library.

Even the secluded island near the stepstones, they would fly their dragons there and Aemond loved laying in the sand as naked as his name day and have Vaera ride him as though he was an unclaimed dragon.

They’d even taken an impromptu trip to the Kingswood and Aemond delighted in his wife’s laughter as he chased her through the trees on horseback. She had looked so beautiful that day, her silver hair wild and untamed, her cheeks-tinged pink. Aemond had to have her.

Needless to say, his mother was not impressed when they both returned to the Red Keep, looking thoroughly dishevelled. Aemond had torn Vaera’s dress in his haste to remove it, and it was covered in numerous grass stains. Her silver hair had bits of dried grass and dead twigs stuck in it and Aemond’s appearance wasn’t fairing any better, his normally immaculate leather tunic and breeches were splattered with mud and his hair was knotted and unkempt.

Aegon found the entire situation hilarious and almost died laughing when Alicent scolded both Aemond and Vaera for being depraved and warned them both that laying with one another should be confined to the privacy of their bed chambers.

They were ordered to bathe and wash away the filth of their indulgence, and never act like that again. Did they listen? Of course, they didn’t. If anything, it made Aemond more determined to indulge in the pleasures of his wife’s soft flesh.

The day his wife had given birth to his sons was perhaps one of the best days of his existence.

Aemon and Rhaegar, his little dragons.

Becoming a father terrified Aemond, his own father wasn’t exactly a shining example of what a father should be, and he was worried that he wouldn’t know what to do or even how to love his children.

But the moment he held those tiny babes in his arms, he knew he would burn the world for them.

The need to protect these precious little dragons washed over him like a wave, he wanted to be involved with every single aspect of their upbringing.

He would read to them and snuggle them in his arms as they slept.

He would help to bathe them and changed their soiled cloths, his brother teased him and even his own grandsire told him that such things were not befitting of a Prince, but he didn’t care.

He was determined that his children would know his love, and they would grow up knowing that he loved their mother with every fibre of his being.

Aemond would wake in the night and attend to one of the twins as his wife took turns feeding them.

He was in awe of her, it was customary for royal babes to have a wet nurse, but Vaera refused. She insisted on providing their sons with her own mothers milk, and of course Aemond insisted on trying it for himself when his wife welcomed him within her body once again.

He took his time worshipping her mother’s body, her soft curves, and swollen breasts. He would run his fingers slowly along her rosy nipples and delight in her soft gasps and moans as she found her pleasure with him.

The mere thought of his wife moaning his name as he made sweet love to her made his cock harden in his breeches.

She was his heart, his soul, and his reason for existence. Never in his life did he ever think he would ever be so lucky as to call her his wife.

Aegon would often mock him for being soppy and cuntstruck, but he didn’t care. Nothing in the world mattered except his sweet wife and their little dragons.

Speaking of little dragons, the day Aemon and Rhaegar’s eggs hatched was probably one of the proudest moments of his life. The hatchlings Brightfyre and Valaerys were welcomed with open wings so to speak.

Vaera was determined that the tiny dragons would not be chained in the dragon pit and despite some initial fears, she got her wish.

Aemond once asked her why she was so openly opposed to the dragon pit, and she told him that dragons were far more intelligent that people gave them credit for, and they were magnificent creatures that didn’t deserve to be locked up. She was also of the belief that locking them away was stunting their growth.

Vhagar had spent most of her life free of chains and she was the largest dragon in the world, even Cannibal was on the larger side. No other dragons could even compete with the sheer size of Vhagar and Cannibal, so Aemond decided there had to be some credibility to what Vaera was saying. But the council were unwilling to make the Dragon Pit open access. Which broke his wife’s heart, but Aemond was determined that one day he would see her wish granted.

The audacity of his bitch sister to think she can summon his wife and their children to her side at a moment’s notice.

Rhaenyra hadn’t bothered with her own daughter since her wedding day, and she certainly hadn’t come to visit her grandchildren since their birth almost two years prior.

Now because her darling strong bastard was on the cusp of losing his false birthright, she could drag herself to Kings Landing to defend him.

The look on her face when Vaera refused her and stood beside him in the throne room, made Aemond feel all giddy inside, her own actions caused the mess she was in, and it couldn’t have been any sweeter.

Well, it could have been if Vaemond had been successful in seizing the Driftwood Throne, but his father rosed himself from his sick bed and defended the claim of his favourite child and her bastard boy.

The moment his rotting father had lumbered his way to the Iron Throne, Aemond knew it was over. Even when Princess Rhaenys announced the betrothals of her granddaughters to the strong boys, it was done. But Vaemond wouldn’t accept defeat and he lost his head for it.

Daemon swung his sword with precision and ease. Dark Sister sliced through meat and bone like it was nothing, proving to the Lords and Ladies of the realm that were present that he would defend his lady wife and the bastards at all costs.

The family gathering that night was so tense that you could cut the atmosphere with a knife.

Aemond had no desire to break bread with people he considered the enemy.

All he wanted to do was go back to his chambers and fuck his wife into the mattress.

Vaera looked so beautiful that evening. Her supple body covered in the blue silk of her dress and her long silver hair unbound and cascading down her back like a waterfall.

Aemond wanted to bury his hands in his wife’s long tresses as he filled her cunny with his seed.

But alas they both had to sit and maintain the air of decorum and propriety.

Soon the King entered, and everyone rose from their seats as Viserys was carried to the table.

"How good it is to see you all tonight together" wheezed Viserys once everyone was seated.

"Prayer before we begin. May the mother smile down on this gathering with love. May the Smith mend the bonds that have been broken for far too long. And to Vaemond Velaryon, may the gods give him rest”.

"This is a cause for celebration. My grandsons, Jace and Luke, shall marry their cousins, Rhaena and Baela, to further strengthen the bond between our families. A toast to the young princes, and their betrothed" said Viserys.

Aemond felt Vaera’s hand squeeze his thigh under the table, her touch grounding him as his father’s wheezing voice echoed around the dining room.

Aemond hated it, having to sit at the same table as those bastards and play nice.

Of course, Aegon tried to liven things up a little bit, but it didn’t last.

Then Vaera had to leave feast to attend to their son Rhaegar who no doubt wanted one last snuggle before it was time for him to go to sleep.

However, that little strong bastard had the audacity to laugh at him, after everything he’d put him through. All the pain and suffering he’d had to endure.

Sat there smirking and laughing as the roasted pig was placed in front of him.

‘Behold the pink dread’.

“Final tribute. To the health of my nephews. Jace and Luke. Each of them, handsome, wise and strong”

“Aemond” warned Alicent.

“Come, let us drain our cups, to these two strong boys”.

“I dare you to say that again” snarled Jace.

“Why? It was only a compliment; do you not think yourself strong?”.

His mother of course did not take to kindly to his tribute.

Not his fault that his strong nephews were so sensitive.

His mood was rather sour as he marched out of the dining room, he needed his wife. To feel her touch, to know she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

“A-Aemond. What’s wrong?” asked Vaera as he stormed into their chambers.

“Tell me you love me” muttered Aemond as he pulled his wife to him.

“I love you”.

“Tell me you need me” begged Aemond as he lowered his head and pressed his face into Vaera’s shoulder.

“I need you”.

“Tell me you want me” whispered Aemond placing gentle kisses along the column of Vaera’s neck.

“I want you”.

“Hm” muttered Aemond as his fingers began untying the laces of her shift.

“I-I haven’t bathed tonight” said Vaera shivering as the shift slipped from her body, leaving her standing naked.

“I don’t care. I need you. Please” muttered Aemond as he began pulling off his own clothes.

Vaera nodded wordlessly as Aemond kissed her, walking them backwards towards the bed.

His father was dead and now his wastrel of a brother was King.

Perhaps what angered him the most was the doubts regarding his wife’s loyalty.

Sure, she was Rhaenyra’s daughter, but she loyal to him and their sons. He never had any doubt when it came to his wife.

His grandsire had travelled to Dragonstone to deliver terms to his half-sister, but he clearly didn’t trust her so now he had to fly to Storms End and offer his brother Daeron’s hand in marriage to one of Borros Baratheon’s daughters in exchange for his support.

His mother had foolishly let it slip that Jasper Wyle the preening shit had suggested that their own marriage should be annulled in favour of a more beneficial match.

Of course, he did not take to kindly to hearing the news and had promptly seized Jasper by the collar and threatened to slit his throat if he ever dared to make such a suggestion again.

It was only the intervention of both his mother and Vaera that seem to pacify him.

He didn’t want to leave his wife or their sons, but he had no choice.

He had hoped that his meeting with the Baratheon Lord would go smoothly.

How his hope died when Lucerys Velaryon showed up.

Preening little shit had the audacity to try and petition for Baratheon’s support.

Little Luke almost pissed his pants when he showed him the sapphire that had replaced his eye.

Demanding his eye was a spur of the moment thing, as was chasing him through the stormy skies on the back of Vhagar.

It gave him a sense of satisfaction that now it was Luke who was afraid. That the bastard boy was no longer laughing at him.

He could end it, Vhagar could devour little Lucerys Velaryon, and the debt would be paid. But he couldn’t do that to Vaera, even though she wasn’t particularly close to the boy he was still her brother and killing him would do more harm than good.

So, he let him go.

He watched solemnly as the bastards tiny mouse of a dragon disappeared into the clouds.

Vhagar made her anger known, she had grown bored of chasing the little dragon through the skies and Aemond knew better than to ignore his grumpy old girl.

So, he directed her to return to Kings Landing.

He’d secured an alliance with the Baratheon’s and now all he wanted to do was climb into bed with his wife and sleep.

If the birth of his sons was one of the best days of his existence, then the death of Aemon was the worst.

Nothing could have prepared him for the sight that greeted him that day.

His wife cradling the lifeless body of their son in her arms.

The utter despair and devastation.

His whole world had just collapsed on itself.

“Our boy. They took our boy” wailed Vaera as she clutched Aemon’s body.

Aemond didn’t know what to do. He felt completely useless.

Following Aemon’s death, his wife had completely shut down.

She’d lost herself to her grief and wouldn’t speak to anyone.

The only reaction she had was when Rhaegar was out of her sight, she would scream like a banshee until he was returned to her.

Rhaegar was also suffering in the wake of his twins death. He had nightmares and would only sleep if he was sandwiched between Aemond and Vaera. During the day, he would hover around his mother, clinging to her skirts as she sat staring into space.

 Even though he was grieving for his son and nephew, Aemond had to remain strong, yet inside he was a wreck. He kept waking in the night to ensure that Rhaegar was still breathing, and taking care of Vaera was immensely difficult.

He had to force her to eat and drink, he even had to force her to use the toilet and bathe. It broke his heart to see his once bright wife, withering away into nothing and Helaena wasn’t any better.

It turned out that she had been forced to choose between Jaehaerys and Maelor, and in her desperation she had chosen Maelor only for Blood to slit Jaehaerys’ throat instead and now she couldn’t bring herself to look at any of her children.

The goons who had murdered two innocent children, had been caught and tortured to within an inch of their lives. They revealed that they’d been hired by a whore called Mysaria at the request of Daemon.

'A life for a life'

Jaehaerys for Visenya and Aemon for Lucerys.

It made Aemond feel sick to his stomach that Daemon had arranged for his own grandsons murder, that he’d willingly inflicted that pain upon his own daughter.

Even more so that he was being blamed for the death of Lucerys.

The bastard boy had been alive the last time he'd seen him.

What ever harm had befallen the boy it was nothing to do with him, but people still whispered kinslayer.

The funerals were difficult, his heart had been in his mouth when his sweet Rhaegar requested to say goodbye to his brother.

So, Aemond lifted his son into his arms and took him over to the funeral pyre.

“Geros ilas lēkia” whispered Rhaegar (Goodbye brother).

Aemond squeezed his eye shut at the sound of Rhaegar’s sweet voice.

“Avy jorrāelan” said Rhaegar sweetly (I love you).

Rhaegar suddenly lurched forward and gently placed his stuffed dragon teddy on his brother’s wrapped body.

“So, you’re not alone” muttered Rhaegar as he leaned forward and placed a delicate kiss on his brother’s forehead.

“Come on sweet boy” said Aemond as he carried Rhaegar back to his mother.

“-It’s Princess Vaera. S-She’s going to jump” shouted the young squire as he whirled around and raced out of the council chambers.

“WHAT” shrieked Aemond as he took off running after the squire, ignoring the frantic calls of his mother and brother.

His heart was pounding in his chest as he chased after the squire. Not to their chambers, but to the room where Aemon and Jaehaerys had been killed.

Ser Arryk was hovering near the door softly calling Vaera’s name, seemingly terrified to take another step inside the room.

When he came to a stop at the door, he understood Ser Arryk’s hesitation. 

Vaera was standing at the open window, her hands gripping the frame as she teetered on the edge.

“Issa jorrāelagon” (My love).

“Nyke jaelagon naejot ūndegon zirȳla aril” replied Vaera (I want to see him again).

“Nyke gīmigon ao gaomagon, yn daor raqagon bisa” (I know you do, but not like this).

Vaera shook her head and closed her eyes.

“Kostilus issa jorrāelagon” (Please, my love).

“We’re never going to hear his laugh or see his face again” cried Vaera.

“W-We will. In our hearts”

“He made us so happy. Him and Rhaegar” said Vaera.

“We will talk about him, every single day and we’ll laugh, and we will cry. Vaera, no one will remember Aemon like we do”.

“How do I stop this pain? How do I make it go away” sobbed Vaera as she staggered on the edge of the windowsill.

“We deal with it together”

“I-I just want him back. I want him in my arms” wailed Vaera.

“I know you do. But please Vaera, don’t do this. Think about Rhaegar, he still needs his mother” cried Aemond as he motioned for the Kings guard to stay where they were.

He didn’t want to spook Vaera, she was so close to the edge. One wrong move and she’d either slip or impulsively jump.

The Cannibal and Vhagar were roaring ferociously in the distance.

“I don’t know how to live without Aemon”.

“Please, my love. Do not let me also suffer the agony of losing my wife”

“A-Aemond I-I can’t-“

“You are the love of my life, my reason for existence. If you die. I die. I cannot live without you. Please come away from the ledge. Please don’t-“

“I don’t want to forget him” said Vaera quietly as her body shook.

“We won’t. I promise”

She was so close to the edge, one slip and it was over.

Without skipping a beat, he quickly lurched forward, secured his arms around Vaera’s waist, and yanked her back from the window.

Ever since he’d pulled Vaera back from the window, he and Rhaegar were helping Vaera during her darkest of days. They would often curl up together as a family in their chambers and hold one another until the darkness ebbed.

Even though his ashes had been entered into the great sept. Aemond had a special plaque made in the gardens for Aemon. Despite his desire to be just like his father, Aemon always loved the gardens, especially when he would chase after Rhaegar the pair of them would roll on the grass together giggling.

It gave Vaera a sense of comfort, as she would often spend hours just sitting in front of Aemon’s plaque talking and reading his favourite book.

Her other salvation came in the form of Cannibal. Her fiercely loyal dragon who gracefully took to the skies with his rider and flew for as long as they both needed too. Sometimes Brightfyre and Vhagar would accompany them, the dark blue scales of Aemon’s dragon shimmering in the sunlight as he broke through the clouds, chirping expectantly at Cannibal who had no qualms about keeping his hatchling in line as he would often throw a customary snarl in his direction.

But the war between the Greens and the Blacks still raged.

He didn’t want to leave Vaera and Rhaegar, but he had too.

They had laid a trap at Rooks Rest for the Blacks, and nine days later, Rhaenys Targaryen, and her dragon, Meleys arrived above Rook's Rest to aid Lord Staunton.

Vhagar and Sunfyre engaged Meleys in a combined and coordinated attack, which resulted in the death of Meleys and left Rhaenys and Aegon severely injured.

Rhaenys was sent back to Driftmark to recover from her injuries and Aegon was carried back to Kings Landing atop Vhagar.

The heads of Lord Staunton and Meleys were paraded through the streets of Kings Landing in a show of the Greens victory over the Blacks.

After Rooks Rest, Aegon was far too injured to carry on serving the realm as King, so he was chosen to wear the conquerors crown instead.

He fashioned himself as Prince Regent and the Lords bent their knee to him.

But ever since the crown had touched his head, his wife had grown more distant from him.

His duties as Prince Regent kept him very busy and quite often it was late into the night when he would finally return to his chambers, utterly exhausted and desperate to seek the comfort of his wife.

But she would pull away from him and quite often she would sneak out of bed and sleep in Rhaegar’s chambers.

There were days where she would even look at him, much less speak.

Even his son wouldn’t call for him anymore, it used to be his favourite thing to do. Snuggle under the covers at night-time and read Rhaegar his favourite story, but now he called for his mama instead.

He’d even stopped asking him to take him to see his dragon Valaerys, which was a bitter blow as it was something the two of them liked to do together as father and son.

Just when things couldn’t get any worse, Vaera confronted him in their shared chambers, and they had a huge argument.

She accused him of failing in his duties as a husband and father and threatened to take Rhaegar away from him and fly across the narrow sea.

He was livid. How fucking dare she speak to him like that. He had raged at her for what she’d said but then something crazy took hold of him and he kissed her.

They’d not been intimate in some time and just one touch of her lips upon his had reignited that fire in his blood.

He was an animal, untamed and unleashed. All the pent-up anger and frustration just poured out of him as he brutally fucked his wife. His hips relentlessly pounding against hers as he chased his release.

Gods she felt amazing, her warm, wet heat wrapped around him.

She took everything he gave her, screaming his name as she peaked, her cunny clenching his cock so tight as he spilled his seed into her, he was groaning so loud he was sure the entirety of the Red Keep had heard their coupling.

Afterwards when he saw her tears, he was horrified at what he’d done.

He'd never been so rough with her before and he was scared he'd hurt her.

But his sweet wife reassured him that she wasn’t crying because of what they’d just done, she was crying because of what she’d said, the threat she’d made, she didn’t mean it.

His heart broke because he knew deep down it was his own fault, he’d neglected both her and Rhaegar.

The responsibility of the crown had completely taken over his life.

It had to stop. He couldn’t be without his wife or their son.

He had vowed on their wedding day, to love her forever and by the gods he’d meant it.

“Lord Corlys is back on Driftmark caring for my grandmother. Meleys is dead. We should take the dragons and attack the Velaryon fleet. Destroy the blockade and free the Gullet”.

“It’s too dangerous” replied Otto.

“Dangerous for who exactly? If we destroy the blockade, sea born trade will resume. The people of Kings Landing are starving. We need to act now. Otherwise, you’ll have a riot on your hands” snapped Vaera.

“Your Grace if we-“

“-No. The time for sending letters is over. My love please see reason” urged Vaera.

Aemond knew Vaera was right, the people of Kings Landing were starting to get desperate, crime rates were up, and food was becoming scarcer. It was only a matter of time before everything came to a head.

But the idea of Vaera flying into battle on the back of Cannibal filled Aemond with a sense of dread that was incomprehensible. Aemon’s death was still so fresh, as was Vaera’s attempt to end her own life. He couldn’t lose her. Not now. Not ever.

“I-I will take Vhagar and attack the Velaryon fleet” said Aemond firmly.

“You are the Prince Regent. We cannot allow you to take that risk,” said Otto.

“I will not sit behind the walls of the Red Keep and cower like some frightened dog. Vhagar is more than capable”.

“It’s not about Vhagar, it’s about you. All it takes is one stray arrow and that’s it,” said Criston.

“So, I sit here and do nothing” snarled Aemond.

“I could take Cannibal, he’s-“ said Vaera.

“-NO. You will remain here in the Red Keep with our son” ordered Aemond.

“Cannibal is the second largest dragon in the world. Surely you knew it would come to this. We have dragons, we should use them” said Vaera.

“They have dragons as well or have you forgotten” snapped Aemond.

“Caraxes is at Harrenhal with Daemon, Meleys and Arrax are dead. Syrax, Vermax, Moon Dancer and Storm Cloud are the only dragons on Dragonstone that have riders and even they are no match for Vhagar or Cannibal. This is our best chance”.

“The Princess is right,” said Tyland.

“The answer is still no and that’s final” yelled Aemond slamming his fist into the table.

“Your Grace” replied Vaera, before she stormed out of the council chambers, and slammed the door.

After an hour or so, the council meeting ended and Aemond retreated to his chambers, he hesitated slightly before he took a deep breath and opened the heavy wooden door, fully prepared to deal with his wife’s anger upon his entrance.

Ever since their argument, they had decided to be more honest and open with one another and instead of letting things fester they would talk and make time for one another.

But to his great surprise, he was greeted with a warm smile as Vaera lounged on their bed reading a book.

“Your back early”.

“I decided to end the meeting early” replied Aemond as he took of the conqueror’s crown and placed it on Vaera’s vanity.

“Probably for the best, maybe a good night’s rest will clear the mind” suggested Vaera.

“I-I thought you would be angry with me?”

“Why would I be angry?” asked Vaera cocking her head to the side.

“B-Because I wouldn’t let you take Cannibal to destroy the Velaryon fleet” replied Aemond feeling slightly unnerved at his wife’s rather calm demeanour.

“Your decision came from a place of love. I might not have understood that at the time, but I do now” said Vaera sweetly.

“Hm”

“Come to bed husband” said Vaera as she closed her book and placed it on the bedside table.

Aemond watched as his wife, began untying the laces of her shift. Clearly trying to tempt him in the most delicious of ways.

After a stressful day of endless meetings, he needed his wife. He needed to feel her wet heat wrapped around him. He needed to fuck her into the mattress.

He needed her now.

Aemond tore off his clothes and jumped on top of his wife, his desire for her clouding his mind. All that mattered in that moment was the two of them, writhing together, their bodies joined as one.

Hours later, he was fast asleep. Satisfied beyond all comprehension.

He didn’t notice his wife slipping out their bed and pulling on her riding leathers.

Slumbering sweetly as she snuck from their chambers and headed towards her Cannibal, and under the cover of nightfall they took to the skies and headed for the Gullet.

[heavyhitterheaux]

Subtle Hints

First Lady of Private Garden Instagram AU

Liked by jackharlow, urbanwyatt, danivalentine, 2forwoyne, laflare1017, brysontiller, and 2,974,003 others

y/ninsta: my baby's birthday month is almost hereeeeeee and I cannot waiiiiit!!

and in other news: I have the cutest husband, wouldn't you agree?

jackharlow come here so I can kiss your face

jackharlow: stink, stoppppppp 🙈🙈🙈🙈

jackharlow: I'm on my way though 🏃‍♂️🏃‍♂️🏃‍♂️

dualipa: he's okay, I guess

jackharlow: dualipa I'm not even going there with you today smh

dualipa: jackharlow because you know you'll lose

jackharlow: dualipa can't lose when my wife is sitting on my face. try again.

danivalentine: oh lord, how are you going to top last year?

y/ninsta: danivalentine I already started planning, I'll let you know

urbanwyatt: uh? did you forget it's someone else's birthday month too?

y/ninsta: urbanwyatt I didn't forget. This post isn't for you tho. get in line.

urbanwyatt: y/ninsta oh oh okay so I'm not helping you plan a got damn thing. do it yourself.

y/ninsta: URBY, DO NOT START. I'M PLANNING YOURS TOO!

urbanwyatt: y/ninsta you started it and I was only finishing it

saweetie: y/ninsta it's the fact that you already have a closet full of gifts for him in my house

jackharlow: saweetie oh?

saweetie: jackharlow no. I'm not telling you which house or what they are so don't even try it

jackharlow: saweetie one tiny hint?

y/ninsta: JACKMAN!

jackharlow: 👀

2forwoyne: how is y/ninsta about to top the kentucky chain? that's all I wanna know

y/ninsta: 2forwoyne we just have to wait and see. nothing is off limits for my baby 🥰

druski2funny: y/ninsta that's funny because he was just calling me his life partner not too long ago

y/ninsta: druski2funny don't start. been his life partner since 14 and made it official at 19. He isn't going anywhere.

druski2funny: y/ninsta I'll see you in court. consider this now a custody battle. y/ninsta: druski2funny court won't be necessary, this pussy got him in a chokehold. but if we're going that way, prepare to pay for all my legal fees.

lilnasx: druski2funny jackharlow wouldn't want to live with you anyway and he damn sure is not choosing you over y/ninsta. I'm trying to save you from a lifetime of pain even if you get on my nerves

druski2funny: lilnasx he'll fold

jackharlow: druski2funny only person I'm folding for goes by the name of Y/N Harlow. Next. y/ninsta: DAMN DOUBLE HOMICIDE!

dualipa: jackharlow you meant Y/N Lipa, but same concept.

jackharlow: dualipa I do not want to hear a got damn word out of you for the entire month of march

dualipa: jackharlow lemme get a date with the wife and I'll think about it

jackharlow: dualipa won't have to think about nothing because my foot will be up your ass for being outta pocket smh

jackharlow: I already got the best early birthday gift that I could ask for from my baby 🥰

y/ninsta: jackharlow stop before I cry

danivalentine: damn, bitch you always somewhere crying lol

y/ninsta: danivalentine shut up! lmaoooo

jackharlowsource: jackharlow what is it?

jackharlow: we'll reveal what it is soon

Liked by jackharlow, urbanwyatt, druski2funny, claybornharlow, popcrave, danivalentine, and 2,890,442 others

y/ninsta: OKAY GLASSES!

my baby did that. so proud of you smush😭😌

allthingsy/n: yes we're proud of him too but WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? WE WANT TO SEE YOU! WE MISS YOU!

y/ninsta: allthingsy/n yall just saw me at the grammy's! lol

jackharlowsource: y/ninsta that was so long ago tho. it seems like you and jack make small appearances to let us know yall are alive and then you go back into hiding

y/ninsta: jackharlowsource all we will be revealed soon as to why 🤭🤭

urbandjack24: WHAT? ARE WE GETTING THE JOINT ALBUM MAYBE?

danivalentine: didn't think you would last on the flight so long

y/ninsta: danivalentine I was fighting it lol, had to lay in Jack's lap for the majority of it which he was very happy about

jackharlow: y/ninsta not you calling me out smh I just like for my wife to be close to me

jackharlowsource: wait, what? she's been on long flights plenty of times 👀

y/ninsta: not a joint album, but something else

jackharlow: y/ninsta thank you for coming with me even though I wanted for you to stay with danivalentine 🙄

danivalentine: jackharlow you know when her mind is made up that there's no changing it

allthingsy/n: what are yall hiding? y/n goes everywhere jack goes anyway when she isn't working on anything

jackharlow: danivalentine after ten years, I'm still not used to it. I just knew it was about to be an emergency landing

jackharlowsource: AN EMERGENCY LANDING FOR WHAT?!

urbanwyatt: and I made sure to sit far away, but close enough just in case

urbandjack24: what in the world are yall talking about?

y/ninsta: jackharlow we need to go back when I'm feeling a little better and not carrying so much

allthingsy/n: ARE YOU SICK?! WHAT'S WRONG?!

y/ninsta: allthingsy/n I promise I'm fine, nothing to worry about and nothing that I can't handle

saweetie: 🤭🤭🤭🤭

2forwoyne: y/ninsta you're still cooking this sunday, right?

y/ninsta: 2forwoyne for my baby daddy, yes.

yungskylark: y/ninsta you always cook for him though!

y/ninsta: uh? because he's my husband the last time I checked? lmaoooo

quiiso: y/ninsta has been starving us for 2 weeks

y/ninsta: quiiso I made you something 2 days ago

quiiso: y/ninsta oh. I forgot about that

theestallion: proud of you jack! now y/ninsta yellow or green?

y/ninsta: theestallion definitely yellow!

jackharlowsource: what are these colors for? 👀

y/ninsta: theestallion or do purple for jack

normani: y/ninsta we can do a few different things but I know you two will love it

Liked by jackharlow, danivalentine, softtcurse, urbanwyatt, nemoachida, djdrama, and 2,943,001 others

y/ninsta: WELL DUH 😭😭

okay yall see me? I'm alive. I'm okay. I'm healthy and I'm about to go have sex with my husband soooo byeeeee

jackharlow: BABY! 😭😭😭😭

danivalentine: hmm you've been doing a lot of that lately and it's why your ass can barely walk now

y/ninsta: danivalentine idk what you mean sis, I was doing the cupid shuffle earlier as I came in the room

saweetie: BITCHHHHHHH SHUT THE FUCK UP 😭😭😭

theestallion: I swear I can't stand your dumbass lol

urbanwyatt: and the video isn't lying. both of yall are. 🙄

y/ninsta: urbanwyatt and imma say it till the day I die that's my muthafuckin husband

jackharlow: y/ninsta 😊😊😊😊😊

2forwoyne: can we talk about how jackharlow was convinced that y/ninsta liked another boy at our school and not him

urbanwyatt: he literally needed a book entitled being in love for dummies. we spelled it out for him and his ass still didn't get it

jackharlow: AHT AHT! my birthday month is about to start and I need for yall to not act outta pocket

yungskylark: following her like a lost puppy

danivalentine: yungskylark he still does

nemoachida: SIMP!

urbanwyatt: still remember that day in cherokee park when I asked her what her type was. she describe Jack to a MOTHERFUCKING T and his ass was still looking around confused

quiiso: that was hilarious lmao

jackharlow: SHE SAID SHE WAS WAITING FOR JUSTIN BIEBER

2forwoyne: jackharlow DOES HE HAVE CURLY HAIR, BLUE EYES, AND FRECKLES LIKE YOUR DUMBASS DOES?

jackharlow: BABYYYY! THEY'RE PICKING ON ME!

y/ninsta: gotta admit that was hilarious lmao

jackharlow: y/ninsta you not helping mamas 😒

y/ninsta: jackharlow I'll help when I sit on your dick

urbanwyatt: here they asses go smh

jackharlow: y/ninsta say less

Liked by y/ninsta, urbanwyatt, danivalentine, claybornharlow, dualipa, theestallion, and 3,562,110 others

jackharlow: so proud to call you my wife 💖

y/ninsta: jackharlow now you know I'm sensitive and I cry all the damn time

jackharlow: y/ninsta just calling it like I see it. thank you for marrying me.

y/ninsta: jackharlow and I would do it a trillion more times, you're it for me pookie 💖

jackharlow: five years in

y/ninsta: and a lifetime to go

theestallion: ooh you look cute, where yall at?

y/ninsta: theestallion this was months ago when we were in Florida, I'm still at home in Kentucky

allthingsy/n: we need new music! I know you got a studio in the house!

y/ninsta: allthingsy/n soon. have some things planned, but for now I'm loving that I can get to spend time with my big baby

claybornharlow: little baby has now entered the chat

jackharlow: here his ass goes 🙄

y/ninsta: claybornharlow hi my little baby, we're going to have to give you a new nickname soon

jackharlowsource: wait, WHAT? DOES THIS MEAN WHAT I THINK IT MEANS?

y/ninsta: jackharlowsource he's just old enough to drink now lol been calling him that since I first met him and he's now taller than me. what did you think I meant? lol

jackharlowsource: y/ninsta that baby Harlow was making their debut!

y/ninsta: jackharlowsource I told jackharlow I need ten years, besides, pop a plan b before I let him trap a bitch!

jackharlow: y/ninsta BABY! STOP. WE TALKED ABOUT THAT.

y/ninsta: oops, yeah he wasn't too happy with my verse on FNF, but another story for another day

saweetie: face card never declining!

y/ninsta: saweetie I miss you so much. please come visit and bring snacks.

jackharlow: healthy snacks only smh do not sneak her cheese fries like urbanwyatt did the other day

urbanwyatt: jackharlow look my best friend was hungry so I did what I had to do y/ninsta: love you urby, jack doesn't let us have any fun jackharlow: y/ninsta we have been having plenty of fun with my head between your legs so cut it out saweetie: ew lmaooooo

jackharlowsource: wait a minute.... I'm just going to say it.... I think first lady is pregnant

urbandjack24: OKAY I THOUGHT IT WAS JUST ME 😭😭😭

allthingsy/n: her and jack are hiding, she's only posting old pics of herself or things from the chest up, being on long flights and laying in Jack's lap which I assume she was nauseous, jack saying he already got the best gift he could ever ask for from her, jack getting on her about only eating healthy snacks, giving clay a new nickname, megan and normani making her choose between different colors which I assume for a party of some sort? gender reveal maybe? OH SHIT BABY HARLOW IS COMING YALL! THIS IS NOT A DRILL!!! FUCKING FINALLY!!! MY FAVORITE COUPLE ARE BECOMING PARENTS!!!

Taglist:

@harlowsbby

@babyharleezy

@hoodharlow

@stefansalvatoresgf

@jackiehollanderr

@primadxna-girl

@dessmxsworld

@cockslutslurper3000

@raelorns21

@variety-fangirl

@gbaabyyyy

@kamorsstuff

@harlowthot

@sinsandsuccubus

@curlyhairclub

@bootlegroach

@haylexo10

@thinkingaboutjharlow

@fluidsentiment

@charli123456789

@moody4world

@yourstrulymayah

@yana4life

@beanbagbitch

@alinaharlow

@carma-fanficaddict

@minaxcarter

@arination99

@xjup1t3r

@venusvinc

@jacksmoviestar

@jackharloww

@midnight-star47

@minkookie95

@inluvwithladybug

@exoticr0ses

@jharlowsangels

@jackierose902109

@jackmansbabymama

@cmalass

@megawhoree

@softtcurse

@sia2raw

@miniaturehideoutmentality

@hoya122

@nattinatalia

@jackslover12

@skyesthebomb

@jackharlows-world

@louisianalady

@fdl305

@automaticpeachsong

@harlowcomehome

@gassyandsassy1

@babygirlwilly

@amethyst09

@harrycanyonmoonn

@toocriticalharlow

@tattered-tales

@sisiking99

@dessxoxsworld

@gillybear17

@jacksdaycare

@iheartharlow

@disaster-rose

@babyvinnie

@evansxchalamet

@chtkmyharlow​

@itsyagirljaz

@neon-lights-and-glitter

@awhore4moree

[kedsandtubesocks]

This Tornado Loves You

A Cowboy Din Djarin One-shot

a/n: I had a really long tiring wild day today so I thought why not write about this wild cowboy lmaooo the title is from the neko case song and this is for my favorite cowpoke @skeletoncowboys thank you for being a true gem Warnings: death mention, extreme yearning, 18+ just to be safe

“I have to leave for the week l…is it alright if I leave the kid with you?”

Din’s request is quiet as the morning sun beats down on you two.

You know he tries to take jobs that don’t require him leaving the kid anywhere for long. But, the jobs are getting sparse and the cowboy that has been opening up to you is slowly retreating back, reverting to the cautious coyote you once liken him to be.

So you reply without hesitation, without question. “Yes of course I’ll watch him. I’ll keep him safe I promise.”

You don’t miss the way Din’s eyes beneath the shadow of his hat go wide for a split second. Everyone in the town swears this bounty hunter has no soul cause you can’t see his eyes, and even if you did you’d might find he has no soul. But you see it, the cowboy’s soul, right there along with heart bare before you as they shimmer in his eyes. The bandana masks any facial reactions but you hear his low molasses voice crystal clear-

“Thanks honey.”

This is an honor and privilege you will hold dear in your heart. The wildly curious baby boy is Din’s world. He cries the entire morning Din packs to leave and it breaks your heart.

Din gently softly strokes the baby’s chubby cheek and it’s a fondness, pure love between a father and son you feel like you’re intruding on. Until Din turns his eyes to you for a split moment, simply you and him caught in this snagged moment before he rapidly looks back at the baby.

“Make sure this one doesn’t get into trouble kid.” He teases with the baby about you and your heart grows wings, soars right out of your chest.

But that was two weeks ago.

The job was meant to take a week and now your mind spirals into worry, clouds up thick and heavy. It only worsens when you head to the feed store to grab a few extra provisions.

“Storm’s coming soon, make sure you lock up early for the night.” The older store owner announces what you’ve been dreading.

You felt the storm coming in your bones.

Living so many years out here you start to notice the changes in the air, the shift in the wind, the glooming clouds creeping more and more off in the distance. It makes your heart drop. You clutch the little boy asleep on your shoulder tighter as you readjust the blanket you’ve mostly kept him hidden under.

“So, you really still ain’t telling us where you got this babe from are ya?” The store owner means well. They all do in their own way.

“Like I told you and everyone else I grew him in my garden.” You answer.

He laughs at your reply and before anything more can be asked you rush out back home.

The rain comes first. It’s a blessing most days, a breeze of grace relieving the town and the earth of the heat. Now it floods your heart with dread.

What if Din is dead? What if he's in need of help?

What if he’s lost somewhere?

He can’t be lost you rationalize. He knows his way and you know that. He’s the best navigator you’ve known just from hearing him talk about his travels. But everything in you screams, almost begs you, to steal a horse from the town to try to find him and just do something.

It only gets worse as the storm only picks up. The sky from your window, dark and thundering, becomes a harbinger of dread.

The wind howls fierce. It shakes the house with a force reminding you that you are just a small human and cannot fight against a storm. Baby boy cries clutching you tight and you wipe his sweet watery glossy eyes soaked bright in the lamplight.

“It’s okay bug, we’re fine. I’m here. We’ll wait this out.”

Wait out the storm, wait for Din.

Thankfully the baby falls asleep while unfortunately your body is unable to settle though. You blame the rattling thunder now competing with the wind.

However, it’s there in the sound of the storm that you hear it - the fierce sound of a horse outside your cabin.

With a fast glance at the baby sound asleep you scramble to head outside. The wind whips out to greet you first. But in that whirlwind, through the pelting rain, you see the black stallion horse you are so afraid of and then his rider.

There he is, a phantom in the storm, your cowboy.

“Din!” You scream and move before you even realize it. A few steps off the porch and there you are rushing, flying out in the storm to him.

The rain soaks you to your bones instantly. You almost fall in the thick mud as you rush to him. His focus isn’t even on you. Din is busy in finally settling down his horse as he ties his fierce companion to the side of your fence post. That’s when Din turns towards you for a split second before you barrel into him.

You can’t help it. You had fought back the thoughts of him never coming back and truly becoming a ghost. And now here he was, solid and soaked in your arms. Your ghost, your phantom, your cowboy, is a man consecrated here and you don’t want him to leave ever again.

“I-I’m sorry!” You stammer pulling back realizing what the hell you’ve done. “I just…Come on! Let’s get out of this storm!”

He lets you wrangle him to the safety of your porch like he’s one of your rascally goats.

If only the townspeople could see him now.

This myth, this mysterious wild bounty hunter of a man with more guns you want to even think about, is drenched. His bandana is sticking to his face and you can see the outline of his striking nose.

As you try to make sure this phantom doesn’t disappear before your eyes, your lips twitch wanting to cry and you hate it.

“I thought you weren’t coming back.” Your voice leaves you, a croak so small you’re afraid it might get caught up in the wind.

“I was…I was so scared thinking you might not come back.”

The rain, you think, must still be dripping down your face until your vision blurs. You blink and discover tears streaming full on rivers down your face. Your focus has even gone away from the bounty hunter, like maybe you really are waiting for this to be a desert mirage.

Boots suddenly stomp on your porch, fiercely loud and sharp, as if they’re trying to mimic the thunder roaring around you. You look up. Din, bare face with his bandana yanked down, walks fast and fierce towards you. He is all you see before his lips are on yours.

The kiss steals your soul and is all consuming. His gloved hand holds your face like you might be the one to disappear in the air. For being a wild bounty hunter, the town's terrifying ghost story, he kisses you tender. Both of your clothes are drenched. His lips are cold. But it is everything you wanted.

“Honey.” He breathes out and it’s all you need.

All you can do is clutch onto him, your rain soaked phantom, and let the storm whip around the two of you. Your heart thanks the wind for bringing him home to you.

[snow-system-wol]

There is a cottage on the outskirts of town, that has been occupied for at least a year or two now. It's also been a while since any stories of the fabled Warrior of Light doing any new heroic deeds have circulated. You have no reason to connect these unrelated facts.

(Maybe ~5+ years after 7.0, no DT spoilers)

Ao3 (~1.7k)

There is a small cottage, just a short foray out of town. You have made the walk before, and surely will again – though you'd hate to ask for too much, as much as he insists it is fine. Even if you wouldn't rush him, the thought of his workload getting too piled up saddens you.

Wait, you are getting ahead of yourself.

There is a small cottage, just a short foray out of town. Two miqo'te men have lived there for a couple winters now – perhaps in their 3rd decade of life, if you had to guess at age. One of them – G'raha – is a clever fellow, often ordering books to be delivered from all corners of the world and into the hands of their local couriers. If describing him to an out-of-towner, you'd likely simply say he's a bit short, red hair down to his shoulders, and visibly besotted with his husband.

Husband? Others have claimed to have seen rings, but you didn't personally look last time you saw either of them. It seems acceptable enough to assume for now, privately.

G'raha's husband is… more of an enigma. He is tall for a miqo'te, pink hair cropped at his jaw, and at times seems to struggle with walking. You've seen him use a cane the uncommon times he comes into town himself. While there is something a bit haunted about G'raha and you couldn't say anything confidently, you are entirely certain that his husband is a veteran of some sort – even with his injuries, he still carries himself like a fighter. Most mysteriously, he introduces himself as Edelweiss, with a knowing smile that says ‘yes, we both know it is a pseudonym’.

None of that is important to your town, though. Edel – as the kids started calling him, and it stuck as a nickname – and G'raha are kind. G'raha always makes friendly chatter and keeps up with people's lives whenever he is in town for groceries and supplies. Their cottage is always open to the injured when they cannot seek other care – allegedly it does not matter which you find at home, as they both seem to be trained healers, interestingly enough.

Most notably is Edel’s established services. He keeps a little box on his porch, where you can leave written requests for crafts or repairs – or G'raha can take verbal messages back to him, if you cannot write. He doesn't like to accept gil, but can be more easily convinced to take non-monetary payment (which almost everyone endeavors to do.)

While you could not say what past Edelweiss may be keeping secret, you could say your town would likely fight for him if it ever caught up with him.

You turn off the main road, onto a smaller path leading to their home. It's pleasantly shaded on the trail, with the whole area wooded, and their cottage is soon in sight. You let yourself into their front yard, taking a moment to look at their garden. Edel seemed to enjoy gardening when he was not working though crafting requests – and you are happy to see several new varieties of flowers and fruits since your last visit, several of which matched the seeds you had gifted him for his help.

You hope G'raha also helps him maintain it, with Edel being disabled. Between that and the crafting, surely it must be a bit much?

You carefully adjust your hands long enough to knock on their door – wouldn't do to drop anything. You hear a distant call of acknowledgement, and then G'raha is opening the door and greeting you with a smile. His eyes flick down in surprise at the basket you carry and you laugh nervously.

“I brought some pastries for you two. I hope that it is to your liking?”

“Of course – please, come in. I shall put tea on. If you would like, we would be glad for you to partake in your pastries as well.”

You enter their home, something you had not done any time before. It is very cozy and pleasant inside – there are some comfortable-looking couches, a small table with a few chairs, and several bookshelves. Based on what you have heard about deliveries, there are surely far more books downstairs as well.

Upon seeing you, Edel’s ears perk up and he gets off the couch with a heavy wince – heading for a doorway until G'raha shoots him a look, at which point he sighs and sits at the table instead. G'raha goes through that door instead and you can hear the thumps of him descending the stairs, into the mysterious realm of what must be their working and sleeping spaces.

That leaves you sitting at their kitchen table, alone with Edel, and not quite sure what to say or where to look. You at least take the moment to observe his face a bit closer in little glances, noting his pale green eyes and scattered scars and faint hint of sunburn on his cheeks. (Would he like a hat, when gardening? Would that be helpful? Perhaps you would suggest that to anyone next looking to barter with him.)

You try not to look at his neck, once you realize the severity of the scarring on his throat. He snorts and gives you a wry smile, and you know immediately that you were not quite subtle – but also that, for a blessing, he doesn't seem to be mad.

“I don't care much if you look. Just don't ask.”

You nod with a polite smile. There are many things you'd like to ask the two of them, friendly questions about where they are from, but that would simply not do in this case. Instead, you settle on something far safer.

“Is work going well for you? I hope you are not overburdened.”

He laughs, looking properly happy in a way puts you at ease.

“No, it's excellent. I'm still learning some skills, and the random requests mean I need to try new things. It's nice.”

“Have you..  not been a craftsman for long?”

He shakes his head. “No, I only started a little while before moving here.”

Immediately, your eyebrows raise. He really is an enigma. “Well, I certainly would not have known that, based on your skill. You must learn fast.”

He looks pleased, but his ears have also started flicking nervously, so you decide against layering any more of your impressed praise. Really though, if you didn't know better, you'd have guessed he'd been at this for at least a decade.

You glance down at his hands, several small scars visible that surely came about from the learning process. Your eyes land on his left hand in particular, and you speak before you can quite help yourself.

“May I ask a question?”

Edelweiss stiffens immediately and you feel guilty for what he may fear you'd ask. “You…may. No answers promised.”

Your eyes focus on the ring again. “Are you and G'raha wed?”

He relaxes with a soft laugh. “Oh, that was all? Yes, though I guess it took us long enough to get ‘round to it.” He smiled, something so warm that it made your own heart feel at peace.

“How did you two meet – ah, nevermind, I suppose.”

His smile turned a touch sad. “I fear that's a harder question to answer without talking about myself, yes.”

“I'm sorry.”

He shook his head. “You didn't mean any harm.”

It is quiet for a long moment.

Any potential awkwardness is diffused by G'raha's return. He puts a small fabric pouch on the table in front of you, and you hear a gentle clink from within.

“This, I believe, should be yours.”

You are suddenly nervous as you lift the bag, picking the tie open so slowly that G'raha places a cup of tea in front of you before you even finish. You pour it out into your palm and – oh.

You will not cry, not in front of these two in their nice little cottage, but… you never thought you'd see this necklace put back to the way you remembered it, and here it is, perfect. You suddenly wish you'd brought something more than just baked goods, even if Edel seemed disinclined to accept much.

“I – thank you. Thank you.”

You manage to keep it to mere tearing up, easy enough to blink away, but your fingers feel clumsy trying to open the clasp on your mother’s necklace.

Edel quietly clears his throat. “Would you like…?”

“Yes, please.”

He carefully stands up from his side of the table, moving around behind you. Some have said that watching Edel makes them feel a bit nervous sometimes, the tells of a trained killer, they say. You can't agree – you feel quite safe even with him fully behind you. You stay very still as he fastens the necklace, with his fingers not even so much as touching your skin. 

You realize that you'd like to know him better, to maybe even be friends, but you don't know if that could fully be possible. Perhaps if he was interested in taking on an apprentice? You'd like that very much, you think.

…Another day you may ask, when you are feeling braver and not quite so emotional.

Edel steps away and you quickly take a sip of tea, the urge to cry passing easily with the warm drink in your hands.

“S-so, how fares the garden? It looks lovely.”

G'raha swallows the mouthful of pastry he'd been eating while you two were busy, brushing crumbs off of his face. “It is lovely – with thanks to your recent gift. They seem to have taken to growing here quite well, and we are always happy to see more flowers bloom and have more fresh food in our kitchen.”

You cannot help the excited smile on your face, the quick rambles spilling from your lips. “I – I can bring more seeds. Next time I visit. I can help with taking care of the garden, too, if you need anything.”

Both of them are looking at you in a way that you'd like to interpret as fond, but it is Edelweiss that speaks first. 

“You're welcome here whenever you want.”

[dakimomoe]

Damn, now that is a strong start to an IF. For me personally within a few pages I generally get a feel for if I'll like whatever I'm reading or not, and believe me I've passed over a lot of IFs because of this, But, as for Lightweaver even though there isn't a great deal of content yet, it has me very invested already and that is because your writing is genuinely good, seriously can't wait to see where this goes. Can we get a few random facts about the Ros? if you don't mind?

Thank you! I really enjoy writing Lightweaver so I’m glad that people like it too ❀(*´◡`*)❀

So far, I’ve already established that there will be 3 ROs. I'll put some facts while listing them!

Luna/Leo Bancroft (gender-locked to MC's gender for plot reasons)

A fire weaver.

Loves gardening. It plays a big role in their character route. MC can choose to be interested in it (or not).

A huge cinnamon roll, but they're not afraid to poke MC's shell a bit while still being very careful of their boundaries.

Impulsive. Which sometimes does them good or bad.

Loves to show off their skills. They secretly love receiving praise, especially from MC.

Alice/Alec Langley (L's best friend)

A water weaver.

They enjoy duels and challenging situations. For a water weaver they can be quite rough!

An overthinker. Sometimes, amusingly so.

Logical and academic. But is still game for some good senseless banter. They don't pull their punches... except with MC.

Always has an icy look on their face, but really, that's just their resting bitch face.

June/Juno Patel (2nd year Launwyce student)

An earth weaver.

Intimidating. Always has a surly look on their face, and it's on purpose.

Animal lover. How MC handles animals will also play a big role in their character route. Seriously.

Loves taking care of someone (animals). But secretly loves being taken care of as well.

If you ask them if they're born in June, without a word, they will walk away.

Also wanted to say here that you don't actually have to romance any of them. I personally want their friendship and hate routes to be just as fulfilling! I honestly have so many plans for their route variations that I cannot sleep,,, This ended up being pretty long, oh well... I already have some character visuals for the cast, I might be able to finally make an intro post soon. (ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ*: ･

[metalomagnetic]

For the 'Get to know your fic author game'. 3, 16, 23 and 35. Sorry for the asks that I am sending. I really enjoy reading your answers and fics.

3.Describe the creative process of writing a chapter/fic.

For a fic idea, in general, I don't have to do anything. It just comes to me, at the oddest of times; while sitting in a line, somewhere, bored, or when I attempt to sleep, but can't. Other times, I am inspired by a piece of art, or a movie, or reading a book.

Once the idea comes, I focus on finding out the motivations of the characters involved. All of them, even the side ones. After that, I see where they lead me, chapter by chapter, even if I usually have an end game in mind, and a few major plot points already established. I put on some music, and I imagines situations that would best help my readers discover the characters I imagine, layer by layer. That is why my chapters are out of control long, sometimes, because I don't have the discipline to plan, just the drive to develop the characters and the way they relate to each other.

16. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Share one of them?

Too many ideas to count. But probably only 5 of those will ever see themselves written down.

The one that I will share as soon as my WIPS are done, has been in the back of my mind for almost a year now. A time traveling Sirius with Tom Riddle, at Hogwarts in the 40s. A Sirius that doesn't know Tom Riddle is Voldemort. I cannot wait to write that one down. I am sure it will be great fun.

23. Best writing advice for other writers.

I know I said it before, and it is a cliche, but it's a cliche for good reason. Write like no one sees what you are writing, because no one will see that first draft. Feel no pressure- it is your draft, it is private and have fun with it. Don't stress over typos or grammar, don't stress over plot points. Write what most you want to read yourself, what makes you giddy and full of emotions. After you are done, after you got what *you* wanted from it, you can start to edit it, to correct things, change them up, or add more believable plot points to connect it all.

If, for example, you are like me and struggle with descriptions but have a great idea for a dialogue exchange, write just that. The dialog. Don't interrupt your creative flow to try to write fillers to put in-between blocks of dialog. Go for it, and once you're done with what you wanted, you can go back in and add more descriptions to the setting, or character facial expressions etc.

Same for when, say, you can't think how to connect two events. You have the events, but not the connector. It's fine, don't stress about it, you'll come up with it later.

Always, when you're in the mood for writing, or have an idea, just write only what you are interested in, nothing else.

35. What is one essential thing to remember when writing a villain?

That they are human. (Well, in case your work is about humans, that is 😂 I can't help with other species.)

The villain, whether they are your main character, your POV character, or simply a side character that makes brief appearances to pester the hero- remember the villain has wants and needs of their own, that they are just as human as you or the hero are.

Whether they are the most evil person to exist, or simply misguided, they are still a person.

Most villains out there aren't aware they are villains; that is something to keep in mind as well. From real life villains, to fictional ones, most of them don't do stuff just to be *Evil*, but there is a deeper emotion that drives them- whether it is an ideology, whether it is self-righteousnes or anger, there is always something.

Don't be afraid to give your villain a spouse, or a pet, or a hobby, a child, a vice. It won't make them less of a villain, it will simply make them human. They don't have to be evil at all hours of the day to remain a villain. They can have a garden they tend to every morning, and order the imprisonment of their political rivals by lunch.

They can order the deaths of hundreds one minute, and enjoy spoiling their pet parrot the next.

(I got other asks that wanted an answer to a variation of these 4 questions, so I decided to pick this one, since he has all of them)

[thestudentfarmer]

Hello hello,

Garden update a bit today!

I tried something new in the garden that involves making a thick cornstarch slurry, coolng it complelty and mixing the seeds in.

Take the mix, put it in a piping bag and use the slurry to make even rows of seed.

I did this with carrots, radish and lettuce.

The radish and the carrots are starting to have some sprout pops! :D. (Radish above, carrot below)

The transplanted (bush variety) beans.

Mixed among them seen sprouting, is sunflowers 🌻

The sunflowers popped way sooner than I was expecting and I cannot wait to see their sunny faces :D

As well we got a lil grid set up for the suprise pumpkin plant.

Other lil doings~

I am attempting to make a jacket :)

Got most my base peices cut out (some mild trim work necessary on the cuffs and bottom stretch bit), got to get the inner liner cut out and a zipper gotten

The inner liner I'm going to try and use an old bedsheet that's a soft blue.

The girls are laying pretty good, so far we've gotten 3 flats total :D. With luck we will continue with plentiful flats (and we can started elaminating eggs purchases when I grocer shop 🥳)

And last but not least, a lil seed start update!

Eggplants, these seeds are around 9ish? Years old. I kept them in not ideal seed saving storage but they've suprised me so far with how resilient they've been. I hope we get a few good ones for seed saving.

Broccoli or cabbage (they both look the same at this stage) I'll be transplanting them soon so as to not get them too spindly.

Nasturtium. There will probably be ground planted at the same time as the broccoli.

That's it for now everyone :) I'm off to work on a breakfast cassarole before I get to work on either cutting some boards for another raised bed, working on the above pictured jacket or possibly collect up some more sweet potatoe leaves to blanch and tuck in the freezer for later.

🌻🌱 Happy Homesteading 🌱🌻

9 29 2023

[snailsagere]

Please read my dni in my bio before interacting

I made another sims 4 legacy challenge, this is different from my usual content so feel free to ignore if this isn't your kind of thing! :3

Anyway welcome to the Halloween legacy challenge! In this challenge you will play through different typical halloween 'monsters' and complete the requirements for each generation!

-Making your sims the different occults is optional, if you'd like you can loosely make a sim based off the occult but not actually make them that specific occult type!

-you can choose which requirements you'll do since I did include some alternatives if you're missing any packs however

-try to complete at least 6 requirements per generation (unless I didn't include enough alternatives and you don't own a pack)

The packs commonly used in the challenge are-

Vampires, island living, werewolves, cottage living, cats and dogs, realm of magic, paranormal and get to work

I used other packs too but these are the ones I'd recommend if you want to get the best experience of this challenge!

👻Ghost👻

You don't remember much about your past but now you're a ghost with a love for haunting music... wait can I smell burning?

Traits-

Loner

Music lover

Gloomy or paranoid (strangerville)

Aspiration-

Musical genius

Career-

Entertainer musician branch

Requirements-

👻become a ghost

👻reach level 10 of any music skill

👻live in a haunted house (paranormal stuff)

👻if you don't have paranormal, live with three ghosts which you cannot control

👻finish the crystals collection

👻your partner must die

👻don't have a good relationship with your kids, you're not around much anymore

👻get the needs no one reward trait

🧟Zombie🧟

...

Traits-

Clumsy

Loner or socially awkward (high school years)

Foodie

Aspiration-

Master chef

Career-

Culinary chef branch

Requirements-

🧟never do well in school and drop out as soon a possible

🧟reach level 10 cooking and gourmet cooking skill

🧟complete experimental food photos collection (dine out)

🧟if you don't have dine out, cook one of each meal throughout your life

🧟only introduce yourselves to others with the rude introduction

🧟go running atleast once a week

🧟never increase your logic and handiness skills past 1

🎈Clown🎈

You followed the same path as your parents you dropped out of school and discovered that you have a passion for making others laugh! No stop crying! I'm funny!

Traits-

Erratic

Goofball

Childish

Aspiration-

Joke star

Career-

Entertainer comedian branch

Requirements-

🎈drop out of school as soon as possible

🎈reach level 10 comedy skill

🎈have a job as a teen

🎈move to a different world once per in game week

🎈befriend the tragic clown

🎈always live in small houses never bigger than one bedroom or always live in tiny houses

🐺Werewolf🐺

You ran away from home to start a new life for yourself, you took whatever money you could and decided to live off the land in moonwood mill

Traits-

Hot-headed

Childish or dog lover (cats and dogs)

Loves outdoors

Aspiration-

Freelance botanist or Friend of the animals (cats and dogs) or Werewolf initiate (werewolves)

Career-

None, you must make money by selling plants from your garden

Requirements-

🐺become a werewolf

🐺'run away' from home as a teenager

🐺have triplets (you can cheat for this)

🐺own atleast one pet dog (cats and dogs)

🐺home school you kids (make your sims kids take 2 days off school per week)

🐺reach level 10 gardening

🐺use the simple living lot trait (cottage living)

🐺if you don't have cottage living use the off-the-grid lot trait

👽Alien👽

You're new to this planet and you want to learn all about it and perhaps explore the rest of space too

Traits-

Genius

Perfectionist

Loner or paranoid (strangerville)

Aspiration-

Nerd brain

Career-

Astronaut or Scientist (get to work)

Requirements-

👽become an alien

👽build a space ship

👽go to sixam (get to work)

👽if you don't have get to work, once you build the spaceship go to space once per week

👽go to university and join a club (discover university)

👽if you don't have discover university join a club (get together)

👽complete the aliens collection

👽go on holiday at least twice

👽reach level 10 in the handiness and rocket science skills

🧹Witch🧹

You've gained lots of knowledge over the years from your parents and now wish to fully use it with you trusty feline companion

Traits-

Genius

Bookworm

Perfectionist or cat lover (cats and dogs)

Aspiration-

The curator or Purveyor of potions (realm of magic)

Career-

Business

Requirements-

🧹become a spellcaster

🧹learn and craft all potion recipes (realm of magic)

🧹if you don't have realm of magic, buy all reward trait potions that cost under 500 points

🧹complete frog collection

🧹own atleast one cat (cats and dogs)

🧹reach level 10 charisma

🧹own and use a voodoo doll atleast five times

🧹own a herb garden

🧚Fairy🧚

You love nature and feel connected to plants and animals and wish to live within nature

Traits-

Goofball

Loves outdoors

Vegetarian

Aspiration-

Freelance botanist or Spellcraft and sorcerery (realm of magic)

Career-

Gardener

Requirements-

🧚become a spellcaster

🧚own a large garden

🧚use the simple living lot trait (cottage living)

🧚use the off the grid lot trait

🧚reach level 10 gardening and herbalism

🧚enter the finchwick fair once a week (cottage living)

🧚own atleast one animal

🌊Mermaid🌊

You love nature, the ocean and mischief, you wish to allure other sims to danger while living a peaceful life in the water

Traits-

Music lover

Romantic

Loves outdoors or Child of the ocean (island living)

Aspiration-

Chief of mischief or Beach life (island living)

Career-

Gardener or Teacher (discover university) or Conservationist (island living)

Requirements-

🌊be a mermaid

🌊move somewhere close to water or sulani

🌊only take baths

🌊reach level 10 singing and mischief skill

🌊complete the seashell collection (island living)

🌊befriend a dolphin (island living)

🌊if you don't have island living own five pet fish instead

🌊kill atleast one sim (your choice how)

🦴Skeleton🦴

You're a bit bonely but you want to meet more sims just like you and try to learn new things

Traits-

Gloomy or Squeamish (outdoor retreat)

Lazy

Loner or Socially awkward (high school years)

Aspiration-

Big happy family or Lord/lady of the knits (nifty knitting) or Jungle explorer (jungle adventure)

Career-

Freelance any or Critic (city living)

Requirements-

🦴go on atleast two holidays to selvadorada (jungle adventure)

🦴befriend a skeleton (jungle adventure or paranormal)

🦴own a cow plant, if it dies you must keep the skeleton and get a new one

🦴own a skeleton fish

🦴complete sugar skull collection

🦴unlock the forever full reward trait

🦇Vampire🦇

You are immortal and you want to be the most successful out the whole rest of your family, afterall you do have forever to do so

Traits-

Ambitious

Snob or Proper (snowy escape)

Materialistic or self absorbed (get famous)

Aspiration-

Mansion baron or Master vampire (vampires)

Career-

Secret agent or Law (discover university)

Requirements-

🦇become a vampire

🦇own a plasma fruit orchard (vampires)

🦇if you don't own vampires own and fruit orchard worth around 10,000 simolions (decorations in the orchard do contribute to the 10,000 simolions)

🦇live in a mansion

🦇reach level 10 in piano or pipe organ skill

🦇have at least 100,000 simolions

🦇have at least one enemy

🦇master the vampire lore skill and complete the vampire skill tree (vampires)

🦇if you don't own vampires unlock the never weary and forever full reward traits

[nothing0fnothing]

I am usually a huge supporter of women who have suffered abuse at the hands of men. But this girl I knew(and cut ties with) was very abusive to her bf. She would lock him in rooms, hide his keys so he couldn’t leave when she wanted to fight with him…she would go through his phone and impersonate him to get people she wanted away from him to think he hated them. She once claimed that her upstairs neighbors sexually harassed her bc they called her a fat ass and called the cops on them. She ripped up all the flowers and shrubs in his garden. She would scream at all their friends to get out of her house when she wanted to fight with him. This girl claims that this was all “reactive abuse”. When I called her out on it she said she hope my little girls were abused. I personally don’t think any action that is thought out is “reactive abuse”. The things she did to him were thought out. I myself was in an extremely abusive relationship in my late teens to early 20s. I would never wish harm on anyone else in a million years. Let alone children. I just want confirmation that I am not crazy. I feel bad not supporting other women. But she story has so many holes and so much evidence to the contrary. Pretty sure she is the abuser. Pretty sure she is a narcissist. Also since I called her out on it she has been stalking me online daily. I quit TikTok bc she made over 165 videos all about me. What do you think? Honest opinion? I’m here for any insights

I don't think you are crazy and I think you should trust your gut with this woman. If you are seeing a pattern of abusive behaviour with her I think your priorities should be first and foremost your own saftey, and secondly being supportive to the guy she's abusing.

I do agree with you that none of what she is exhibiting seems to be reactive abuse. When I was in my first domestic violence relationship I experienced reactive abuse. For example, he used to call me to fight because if I were locked in a phone call with him, I wasn't able to socialise or get anything else done. When I realised I didn't have to answer the phone to put up with him, he started to call me over and over again, in quick sucession. While he was doing this he basically rendered my phone useless. I couldn't turn it off or even mute the ringer, because as soon as I tried a new call would come through. And he wouldn't just call 5 or 6 times, I remember checking my phone after eating dinner with my flat mates and seeing 577 missed calls. He had been calling and instantly redialing consistently for 45 minutes. He had found a way to essentially lock me out of my phone whenever he felt like it, he started doing it more and more frequently. One day, he's doing that, and I needed to use my phone to do some coursework. And I just wanted to cry because I knew my choice was to sit on the phone with him for two hours or wait an hour for him to get bored of redialing me before I could get what I needed to get done, done. So I started answering, saying the most hateful, vitriolic, heinous shit I could imagine, and hanging up. "I hate you." *click* *incoming call* "I'm breaking up with you" *click* *incoming call* "I hope you die" *click* *incoming call* "I hope your dog dies". *click* *incoming call*. And on and on it went until I fell spart and just shut my phone in a box in my wardrobe and listened to it ring till the battery died. I cannot excuse what I said it in any way, and I've never behaved that way since. I'm not am abusive person. I was just pushed to the brink by one.

I bring this up because that was a personal example of reactive abuse. I felt cornered by him and I thought the best way to stop his unhinged behaviour was to match energy. But that wasn't the way. Actually all I did there was feed his ego and give him exactly what he wanted.

I'm really struggling to square my experience to the examples you gave me, like hiding keys so her abuser couldn't leave the home. I know my experience isn't everyone's experience, but I don't really understand that behaviour as a reaction to abuse. Why would she want her abuser trapped in the house with her?

Sometimes reactive abuse can look from the outside like abuse, but like you said, it's not usually premeditated. Behaviour like going through her partners phone to find all of their contacts so she can turn them against him one by one. That just sounds like abuse to me. I'm not sure how or why a person would do that as a response to abuse. And considering her "reactive abuse" looks a lot like the behaviour of abusers, like the isolation from his loved ones and the destruction of his garden I'm assuming he put a lot of care and effort into, I'm definitely leaning to agreeing with you that she is probably not the victim in this particular scenario.

I'd suggest blocking and ignoring her completely. Like my ex using incessant phone calls to lock up my phone, eventually with no reaction from you, she will get bored and stop. Don't make the same mistake as I did, and give her what she wants by telling her what for. Otherwise she'll know that by making 165 tiktoks she can get a rise out of you, and you'll have to put up with it far longer.

Consider legal action if that's possible, but otherwise make sure you stay safe. She seems like a particularly nasty person and it seems like interacting with her is not going to end well for you.

[torque-witch]

May need to raise money to be able to move

This is going to be a long post, so please read. Photos to be included.

Long story short, last fall my landlord started taking down our fenceline where we had a yard we were using to garden and hang out in - and of course we were responsible for cutting the grass, etc. We were not given a notice, so our garden was shoved to the side as they did construction. Eventually we removed them and the fenceline was re-instated about 2 feet off the back of the house, reducing the backyard to 2 feet long instead of about 20-25. I reached out to the construction company (he owns), to the property management in writing and couldn't get a response. I texted the property manager (previous texts she was able to respond to) and never got a response.

Just the other day, we got an email about rent increasing in August. It's not by a lot, but I responded that this would be reasonable if not for the surprise removal of our yard. The manager texted me and said I could call the property owner for any questions. I asked if there was a reason they could not provide written documentation of property change and was told "it's easier to explain in person." I responded essentially that we weren't even given verbal explanation of when it was happening last fall, and that I have rented with various property management companies for 10+ years and have never not gotten written notice of anything via paper or email.

I also reached out to my borough's code enforcement office because the landlord built a permanent structure where our yard used to be, which we are not allowed access to use. He asked for photo proof, and I dropped it off today at his office with 3 years worth of proof and proof that they will not give us a written explanation. I haven't heard back from him yet, but the landlord did try to call me earlier and I will not speak to him on the phone until I know how to answer. In PA, we are a two-party consent state so I cannot record this conversation without his consent as a form of legal documentation.

I also spoke with the Allegheny Housing Authority and they said there's not much I can do except talk to legal unless the landlord did not re-zone the property with the borough, so it's a waiting game of hearing back about this essentially.

I want to avoid contact with the landlord except through writing. So, we can either back down if everything is legal, or we can give a 2 month notice to vacate the property. We have $2k in savings, but it's not enough to move in to a new place as most will require 3x the deposit.

My question is, what would you do? Suck it up and pay the increase, or try to raise money to leave? We wanted to stay here until we could get into a permanent residence, but covid + my health + other emergencies have kept us from really saving enough money or being able to qualify for a house quite yet. I do have a lot of resources now to apply for, but obviously that won't happen anytime soon.