#i wish his eyes were better (or that we had more gold lookin shades) but idc. pretend they look like his center eye

[batfossil-fr]

yesssssssssss. YESSSS

[goodmythicalshipping]

Three Wishes (2/4) - “To Be Free”

Hello there! I hope you’re all having a great week. 😊

I’m back with the second chapter of my latest, Aladdin-themed fanfic! 🧞 Thanks to everyone who has supported it so far, you can read the first chapter if you missed it using the link below. You are also able to read this second chapter, “To Be Free,” on my AO3 page!

Enjoy! - Sage.

Summary: In Pre-Islamic Arabia, a poor street rat, Rhett, struggles to survive in an unforgiving and discriminatory world… that is, until he comes across a rather mythical-looking lamp. Having concealed a deep secret his whole life, his entire world is soon changed forever by a certain bespectacled genie.

<< Chapter One / Chapter Three >>

The neon glow of daybreak shone through the window and made vibrant contact with Rhett’s shut eyelids, forcing them open as the blonde man awoke. Gradually regaining his consciousness, he shifted his gaze to see the blue man once again leaning a mere inches from his face. Rhett shot up, startled.

“Please tell me y’weren’t watchin’ me the whole night,” Rhett carped.

“Fear not, master,” Link replied calmly. “I got bored of watchin’ ya within the first 10 minutes of you fallin’ asleep, and spent the rest of the night countin’ the number of tiles on the floor and lost count at around 10,402. I just wanted to see yer reaction upon wakin’ up.”

“That must’a been quite boring.” Rhett yawned.

“Hey, desperate times call for desperate measures,” he answered. “How’d ya sleep?”

“Fine, I suppose. Could be better given our surroundings.”

“Well, we could change that right now! Have ya decided what you’d like yer first wish to be?”

Rhett regrouped himself, making sure that what he was about to wish for was what he truly wanted. He came to the conclusion that it would be better than his current state in every way possible. Not only would he live a prosperous life, but he would finally receive the respect he had long deserved. Thus…

“Link, I’ve decided. I wish that you would make me a prince!” Rhett requested.

“Ah, a fine choice!” Link affirmed, cracking his knuckles in preparation to grant his wish. “A very cliché request, but nonetheless fine!”

Rhett rolled his eyes again; this genie had some sense of humor...

“I’ll just need to get yer measurements for the sake of... erm,” Link choked out, as if he was embarrassed to even ask, a gesture which proved horribly endearing to the mortal man. “Suitability… get it? ‘Suit’-ability? Because I’m turnin’ ya into royalty? Ha, I crack myself up! You should really be callin’ me ‘Aristophanes’!”

Link then materialized a full-length mirror and measuring tape out of nowhere. “Now, are ya ready for your transformation, master?”

“Yes, Link. Make me a prince,” Rhett consented.

“Let’s see here,” Link started, already measuring up the tall man. “Just over 200 centimeters in height plus an extra five for the hair, not includin’ the beard... long arms with a shorter torso, average shoe size, lookin’ to be approximately 80 kilograms in weight, definite autumn complexion… that should about do it! I’ve got just the thing!”

He floats behind the mirror and comes back with a stunning silk teal robe with sophisticated, woven gold accents, a pristine white turban with matching trousers, and gold slippers. In one swift motion, Link dresses Rhett in the garments, leaving him to gawk at himself in the mirror.

“Wow...” Rhett expressed in awe. He looked incredible!

“Link, I’m thoroughly impressed! I love it!” he continued, modeling the garment in the mirror as Link beamed at him, blushing a deeper shade of cobalt at the mortal’s enthusiasm.

“Glad you like it, master,” Link finally replied. “But y’know what would go great with this ensemble? I’ve got the perfect finishin’ touch. Follow me!”

Link grabbed Rhett’s sleeve and pulled him down the stairs of the deteriorated building, coaxing Barbara to follow them. As soon as they reached the ground level, the genie quickly pulled Rhett behind the building where no one would see them.

“I thought you said ya had an accessory for me, what’re we doin’ down here?” Rhett inquired.

“You could say it’s an accessory. Depends on your definition of the word, really,” Link replied, eyeing the dog at their feet. “Say, Rhett: how about we get ya’a nice set of wheels? Surely the people of Agrabah would be amazed to see a fine prince like yourself being escorted into the palace on the appropriate chariot, no?”

“I suppose you’re right. What did’ya have in mind?”

“Not what… who!” Link beckoned, and with that he scooped Barbara up into his gangly arms and floated her above him, surrounding her with his magic as she barked.

“Hey, what’re ya doin’?!” Rhett demanded.

“Don’t fret, she shan’t be harmed! But certainly a tiny dog is not suitable for entrance into the palace, as you so desire. She’ll need to serve as something far more sumptuous in order fer’ya to be taken seriously! Now let’s see here…”

What was really just under a minute felt like an eternity for Rhett as Link morphed his fluffy, white dog into a myriad of different animals right before his eyes. Shifting her from a donkey to a stallion to a camel to even a reindeer in a matter of seconds, Link finally settled on the beast he was looking for all along.

“Presto!” Link concluded, turning to Rhett. “Well, whaddya think?”

Rhett didn’t know what to say, so he just observed the white elephant in the room… literally. In front of him stood what was formerly Barbara, now a massive, ivory, almost four-meter-tall African bush elephant.

“She’s a beaut, ain’t she?” Link continued, admiring his handiwork while also ignoring Rhett’s nettled eyes. “If y’don’t like it, I can always change her back to normal after you’ve made yer way into the palace, but I figured y’might want to keep her like this for now as an added bonus to make a good impression on the royals.”

Rhett sighed, admitting defeat. As much as he wasn’t too keen on his new behemothic companion, Link was right. The easiest way to impress the royals would be to make a big spectacle out of his entrance, and arriving on a gargantuan elephant would do just the trick. At least Barbara wasn’t in any noticeable pain…

“Very well, genie. I’ll take it, for now,” Rhett finally responded. “So what’s yer plan?”

“Well, is your plan to just ride into the palace? If so, I think y’might have a harder time getting people to buy into your charade on yer own,” Link advised. “Perhaps ya should have some reinforcements!”

Just then, Link multiplied himself into an army of about 30 human men, all dressed in royal servant garb to match Rhett’s own. They all lined up behind them, ready to march through the palace gates.

“Huh, lookit that,” Rhett reacted, albeit a little weirded out by the clones’ blank smiles. “Well, let’s not waste any time then!”

At last, he mounted Barbara and the brigade trekked toward the palace entrance, gaining much curious and dazzled attention from citizens around them. The voyage went on for some time, long enough for the genie and his master to get better associated. As the troop followed closely behind them, Rhett and Link continued their prolonged conversation.

“So he just kicked ya into the dirt?” Link asked. “That doesn’t seem too princely to me.”

“Believe me, he was anythin’ but princely,” Rhett replied. “I hope that by the time we arrive at the palace, the royals will have already kicked him out and spit in his face.”

“I’d like to see that,” Link professed. “I hope the princess spits at him the hardest out of all of ‘em. Word on the street is she’s got venomous saliva, and it’s especially effective on her many bumblin’ suitors.”

“Suitors?” Rhett quavered, momentarily stopping in his tracks. He felt his stomach turn at this. Once they reached the palace, was he expected to attempt to woo the princess? He had never met her before, let alone seen her in person, which made him very uneasy. Rhett had essentially hoped to join the royals to reach their level of greatness, not marry into it.

“Have you been livin’ under a rock?” Link laughed. “Any prince who steps foot into that palace is presumably a suitor for the princess, who is required by law to wed in order to inherit the throne. And since yer a prince now, that includes you.”

Link’s voice trembled at that last word, puzzling Rhett. Was Link nervous? He stared at the beryl spirit, analyzing his perfect bone structure and seemingly crestfallen expression. This made Rhett feel inexplicably contrite and he silently hoped that the genie’s current mental state matched his own, as Rhett wasn’t very warmed to the idea of pursuing the princess, and for more reasons than he’d like to admit in that moment…

“Link, I’d like to ask ya something. Not a wish, but a general wringer,” he asked, watching as Link adorably perked up at the question.

“Of course, master,” Link chirped.

“I was just wonderin’. If you were in my position,” Rhett continued. “...what would you wish for?”

It was in that moment that Link’s blithe demeanor dropped to that of profound rigor, much to the concern of the mortal man. Rhett hoped he hadn’t accidentally offended him, but his concern washed over at the sight of Link’s fond smirk that stretched across his ultramarine cheeks.

“Wow, no one’s ever asked me that before… I’m sort of at a loss for words, t’be frank. Well…,” Link rambled, his countenance once again switching to something far more lugubrious and wistful. “There is… one thing.”

“And that is?” Rhett asked cautiously.

“It’s a bit out of the question, I’ll admit. And maybe selfish...”

“It can’t be that unreasonable,” Rhett reassured him.

“Freedom,” Link confessed finally.

“What d’ya mean?”

“Face it, Rhett: I’m a prisoner. Always have been, always will be. I only exist to fulfill other people’s wishes; it’s a vicious cycle. Once I’ve pacified one master, I’m at the mercy of the next. The only way I could truly grant my own wish of being free is if my master were to grant it for me. It’s a horrible existence that I’ve simply learned to accept.”

As he listened to the genie’s words, Rhett’s heart felt as if it had been shattered into a thousand fragments. His soul ached for Link, and although they lived in completely different circumstances, he felt a deep connection to Link’s story. The altruistic side of him desired to help the genie in any way he could, so he pushed further.

“If you were to have yer wish of freedom granted, what d’ya think would happen to ya?” he inquired.

“Theoretically, I should become a human like you,” Link answered.

“Well, that just settles it then.”

“Settles what, master?” Link asked, snapping his head back up at Rhett.

“I vow to use my last wish to grant yours,” Rhett offered, which received a hearty guffaw from the genie.

“Y’can’t be serious,” Link chuckled in disbelief. “I couldn’t ask ya to do that for me. I mean, I’m just some strange blue man that popped out of a tin can in yer bedroom. Y’hardly even know me!”

“Well, maybe I want to,” Rhett admitted flirtatiously, both of them now blushing and averting their gazes to hide their ridiculous smiles.

“Y’really are very unlike my previous masters. They weren’t nearly as generous,” Link declared belatedly, face still tinged with indigo.

“Hopefully I won’t be yer master much longer,” Rhett winked, the two of them simpering the entire rest of the way to the palace.

---------

After a semi-long journey to the more affluent side of Agrabah, they were allowed through the gates, leaving the cheers and hollers of the civilians behind them.

The palace was magnificent, to say the very least. Surrounding them were a number of shining, domed buildings, paradise gardens, and a sizable courtyard containing several ornamental pillars and a large, stone fountain. Rhett’s jaw went slack at the marvel of such a place, with Link beaming at his awestruck visage.

“Like it? I think you’d settle in quite nicely over there next to that mosque,” Link pointed out.

Their party approached the larger mansion in the center of the palace, which they presumed to be the sultan’s primary domain. Upon dismounting Barbara, Rhett was greeted by the sultan himself at the entrance.

“Welcome to the palace! You must be here for the princess!” the sultan saluted, happily dragging Rhett inside before he could protest, leaving Link and the others outside. As the short, older sultan talked his ear off, Rhett turned back to the perturbed genie to give him a reassuring nod. He was soon led into a garden in the rear of the structure.

Sat in the garden on the side of another fountain was a slender, young girl with fair skin and long, strawberry blonde hair. She stroked the water with one hand while petting her pet tiger with the other, lazily gazing up as Rhett and the sultan approached her.

“Prince Rhett, I would like for you to meet my lovely daughter, Princess Stevie,” the sultan addressed, the young girl standing up.

“H-how d’ya do?” Rhett stuttered. The princess didn’t respond, instead looking off to the side disinterestedly.

“Stevie, why don’t you show Prince Rhett around the palace to get better acquainted?” the sultan asserted. “Supper shall be prepared in just a few hours, I expect you to meet me in the banquet hall. For now, I will leave you to your own devices. Farewell for now!”

As the sultan skipped off back into the building, Princess Stevie sat back down on the fountain to turned her attention to her pet tiger once more, leaving Rhett not knowing what to do next. Should he try to talk to her? Leave her alone? It didn’t seem like she wanted to talk to him anyway, but he came here to gain insight on how to achieve greatness and who better to ask than the Princess of Agrabah herself?

Rhett opened his mouth, but was immediately cut off.

“Don’t worry, I know you’re not here to win my hand in marriage,” Princess Stevie said flatly. How did she know that? Was it that obvious that he had no intentions of courting her?

“I’m sorry?” Rhett prompted, not sure what else to say in that instance.

“It’s obvious that you aren’t like other princes who have visited our kingdom, as you aren’t nearly as arrogant or forceful,” she elucidated. “I believe it’s a fair assumption to believe you have other intentions being here than charming me.”

Not sensing any hostility from the tall man, she patted the side of the fountain beside her to signal for him to join her, to which he obliged. The tiger under her palms quickly growled at him, causing Rhett to spring out of his seat. Princess Stevie shushed the large feline, calming it down.

“It’s alright, Enzo is typically not the best with strangers upon first meeting, but will get used to your scent quickly,” she explained to the frightened man.

“I’m not sure how much better that makes me feel,” Rhett admitted, tittering nervously and sitting back down, this time much more tentatively.

“I apologize for my father’s forwardness,” Stevie acknowledged. “He is rather… brazen, when it comes to introducing new suitors. Part of me believes he thinks he’ll perish before he sees me wedded off, and thus is all the more eager to expedite the process.”

“It sounds to me like yer not looking to wed anyone anytime soon,” Rhett suggested.

“Not anyone. Just a prince,” Stevie finished, adding emphasis to the last word. After a brief moment of confusion, Rhett began to understand and widened his eyes at the princess in surprise.

“Oh,” Rhett gulped. “I see.”

He was quick to adjust his tone once he noticed the ashamed look on the young girl’s face.

“Not that I’m against that!” he interjected, watching as she let out a sigh of relief. “It’s just rather unforeseen, but yer honesty is refreshing.”

“I’m alleviated to know that you’re not as vehement about how I choose to live as the majority of the populace of Agrabah,” she confided. “I know my father truly wants the best for me, but it is also apparent to me that we don’t want the same thing. As much as I would prefer to be forthright with him, you must understand that who I’ve chosen to be with is frowned upon as both a royal and a woman in this land. Still, I strongly argue that marriages should not be based on arrangement, but instead the purest form of love.”

Rhett sympathized with the princess, correlating his life story to her own.

“Well, it looks as if you and I have more common desires that we both initially thought,” he finally divulged, giving her a coy glimpse that revealed what he needed her to know as discreetly as possible. As soon as she caught on, she smiled widely.

“Indeed,” she concluded, resting a compassionate hand on his shoulder, feeling repose in their shared dilemma. The two continued to talk for some time as she gave him a tour around the palace grounds, with an unseen Link following them from a distance.

(To be continued)

[jodiwalker]

These Are the Best Things Happening on ‘Game of Thrones’ Right Now, Part II

Hey y'all, something bad is coming on Game of Thrones, so just real quick, let's remember the good times in episodes 3 and 4, when teenage assassins were reuniniting with their teenage ruler sisters and teenage psychic brothers. When Littlefinger was getting ragged on so hard. When Jon and Davos had nothing better to do than chalk up the cave walls of Dragonstone with little bitty zombie drawings to prove a point and flirt with Missandei, respectively.

There were Catspaw Dagger references for the most careful of watchers, Jon saying "I'm not a Stark" as a Targaryen dragon flies overhead for the mildly observant viewer, and there's Jon and Dany touching each other's wrists in caves for everyone else who's just like, I don't understand what's happening here, I've never understood what's happening here, I don't care what's happening here, but I will be here until it's all over and Dany has married her nephew, SO HELP ME R'HLLOR.

So, once again, this is not a recap, not a review, just a simple, definitive, and all-encompassing list of The Best Things Happening on Game of Thrones right now (which is to say last week and the week before):

Almost Everyone Playing the Game of Thrones Is a Baby-Child

It suddenly became clear in episode 3 that while the lead characters in Game of Thrones don't seem particularly young when they are commanding their armies and large, magic animals—when they come face to face in a throne room, they suddenly seem like two particularly formidable and hormonal teenagers facing off at a Model United Nations simulation. Except, y'know, one of them recently died and was resurrected by a thousand year old sexy priestess, and the other has a bunch of giant toddler dragons and, like, ended slavery, I think.

I'm, of course, speaking of Dany and Jon, the two most popular rulers at Westeros High. Now, since Kit Harrington and Emelia Clarke are each 30, you wouldn’t think they would seem that young…but they're also both, like, 5'1 if they're an inch, so when they first came face-to-face in episode 3, they more often resembled a couple of adorable Shiba Unus tussling over a Kong ball and sniffing each other's butts, instead of two rulers arguing over getting to save the world in the specific way they want to.

In that sense, their first meeting was a particularly precious reminder of how young they still are. Yes, all the GoT kids were aged up three or four years from the books at the start of the series, but Dany and Jon are still only 22 or 23 as they fight to save the world from heretofore unknown evils—and by that, I of course mean Queen Cersei making ever woman get her goofy pageboy haircut. 

When Missandei announces Dany like one of Blair Waldorf's be-headbanded lackeys, Game of Thrones briefly turned into a Disney Channel Original movie, bringing along all the clashing dynamics of darkness and precociousness a DCOM denotes. You can practically hear Missy saying, "You stand in the presence of Daenerys Stormborn, President of the Student Council, rightful member of the A/B Honor Roll, rightful owner of a used Ford Prius she got as a reward for said A/B Honor Roll, Haver of an Afterschool Volunteer Internship at a Veterinary Office, Breaker of Bullies, the Sister of a College Sophomore Who Lets Her Wear His Old Fraternity Formal Shirts So People Think She's Cool, Voted Most Likely to Play with Fire and Like It a Little Too Much, and the Survivor of a Particularly Bad Case of Strep Throat Last Year.

You scared yet Jon Snow, you creepy-loner-who-doesn't-know-he's-hot-and-smokes-cigarettes-behind-the-school-but-secretly-makes-all-As-and-has-a-heart-of-gold-Patrick-Verona-lookin'-ass, you?

If Dany hasn't stood up on the Iron Throne and tearfully choked her way through a rendition of the "10 Things I Hate About Jon Snow" by the end of all this, I will be shocked. Because, as we will discuss later, Dany doesn't hate King Jon (King Snow? No, that doesn't sound right, does it Davos)…not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.

The Stark Children Are Happy…Well, As Happy As a Live Stark Child Can Be

Of course that's not even mentioning the actual children roaming around Winterfell with severe PTSD and a recently developed case of the huggies. Sansa's running the Stark show at Winterfell while Jon is away at Dragostone giving up all his weapons and doing arts and crafts in the underground caves, and in her time as a prisoner of various evil families, she seems to have picked up quite a knack for organizing grain supplies and commanding that leather be added to armor because the dipshits apparently haven't heard that WINTER HAS COME.

I thought Sansa would be cool for like an episode or two and then go back to being dreadful, but her recent transition from Little Sister to Big Sister inside the walls of Winterfell seems to be suiting her well. When Meera finally brings Brann back home and after dragging his 6'4 ass all over the North, she gets exactly zero sibling hugs because her brother died protecting Brann—justice (and a warm shower) for Meera—but the newly minted Three Eyed Raven gets a sweet embrace from big sister Sansa. 

He returns the love by informing Sansa that now he can see everything that's ever happened in the world, including the worst night of her life when she was forced to marry Ramsay and he raped her.

Hey Brann, I know it's not your fault that Jaime Lannister pushed you out of a window, and your dad got beheaded, and Theon fake-torched you, all setting you on a fan-least-favorite path toward becoming the Three Eyed Raven but—you totally suck! Someone else can tell Jon he's a Targaryen if it means you having to be all weird to your sisters now that you're finally, gloriously, wonderfully reunited. In this extended high school analogy I've been drawing, Brann is the kid who took one philosophy class at the community college for extra credit and thinks he knows everything now. You don't know shit, Brann!

Okay, fine, Brann knows some shit, and is obviously intended for some higher purpose in this game of thrones or he surely wouldn't have been—quite literally—dragged through all seven seasons. I just wish that purpose was being a nice supportive brother to his super-survivor sisters, which brings us to…

ARYA IS BACK AT WINTERFELL AND SHE SPARRED WITH BRIENNE AND MAYBE THEY CAN GO LADY-ARMOR SHOPPING TOGETHER NOW, WHAT'S GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD?!

As it turns out, the already disparate Stark children have become even more contrasted with time and (grueling, awful, traumatic, painful, oftentimes unbelievable) circumstances. Sansa, who was a pretty girl who wanted to marry a prince, is now the Wardeness of Westeros' largest region with a keen political mind and a dude who would fucking love to marry her that she's constantly mocking. Arya was a tomboy who had a real good time at her afterschool swordsmanship lessons, and has since grown into a stone-cold assassin who cuts people's faces off and magic-pastes them onto her own face, then feeds those recipient of the face-cutting to his own family, and then also kills that entire family. Brann has turned from a boy who liked to ride horses into Westeros' creepy Miss Cleo, and also, he no longer goes by Brann, and also, is a pretty constant dick to the women in his life.

That all kind of made me love their reunions even more though. Arya saying, "Do I have to call you Lady Stark?" as her first greeting to Sansa was incredible. Sansa replying, "Yes," very much in the way of Old Sansa, but then turning around and hugging Arya and bonding with her about how much pain they've lived through and how everything they used to know is dead except for each other was even better. And Sansa telling Arya that "Brann has visions," in the same tone of voice you might warn a guest that your little brother has recently gotten really into making his own chainmail was EVEN BETTER.  There was also Jon all the way over at Dragonstone being all "She's startin' to let on" when Tyrion says that Sansa is smarter than she lets on—love those two, sure hope Littlefinger doesn't turn them against each other and shatter my heart into a million pieces!

But simply the best was watching those three rough and tumble Starks wheel and walk their way back from the Weirwood tree and into their home at Winterfell, down a couple family members, not really sure of who they've become, and probably on the brink of being murdered by ice zombies, sure…but they're also together—three lone wolves restored to a pack—and, for now, they're alive.

Of course, it is hard to ignore all that side eye Sansa was giving Arya as she sorted that out that Lil' Sis super-duper was not kidding about having a murder list. But Sansa isn't on said murder list, and hey, she also once fed a dude to his (canine) children, so maybe this girl gets it. Maybe everything will be fine and once Jon and Dany save the world, they can all go in on a family beach house together and parasail on dragons. Speaking of…

THAS-A-MUTHAFUGGIN-LOOT-TRAAAAAAAIN

I've always thought of Weiss and Benioff as kind of cool young dudes who were surprisingly hot and surprisingly married to Amanda Peet (which I would want to brag about in Emmy speeches too, no shade). But for some reason, recently, they've started to seem more and more to me like kind of clueless dads who, were we ever to see their legs in the after-show interviews, would be wearing pristine New Balances with loosely fitted light-wash jeans.

I don't know if it's because I recently fell into a deep dark YouTube black hole where I watched clips of a panel where Sophie Tuner and Maisie Williams interviewed B&W and just keep making fun of them for being old (of note, Sophie Turner is really funny). Or if it's because they're quite literally getting older and making this show where they have to spend three million dollars to light 20 real people on fire in order to make it look like 1,000 fake people are being lit on fire has probably aged them an extra decade.

But mostly I think it's because now that they're out from under the shadow of GRRM they can stop pretending they're dead inside and let their TV pathos flags fly, and that alone makes them seem a lot less hard than they used to. Them talking about how Dany and Jon it's so obvious Jon and Dany have developed feelings for each in the cave scene was just adorable. Guys! They've had like, two conversations, and neither one has made a single inappropriate "bend the knee" joke which they obviously would if they were two real life 19-year olds falling in luv in a cave.

All this is to say that, I am so thankful to them for bringing GoT to my television, but truly, only two dumb dads could have taken this insane, explosive, dragon-fueled battle and called it…"The Loot Train Attack." Or as I prefer to call it: the mutha fuckin' LOOOOOT TRAAAAAAIN!!!

There is nothing that I can personally write that would make the battle where Dany brought dragons to a sword fight at the counsel of Jon any better than it already was, so I'll be brief: It is in episode 4 of season 7, at the end of the Loot Train—LOOT TRAAAAAAAIN!—battle, as Jaime charges Daenerys with a giant spear, that it became clear just how impossibly complex this web of character has become. It used to be impossible to root for anyone because they were all either evil or definitely going to die in the next episode exactly because they weren't evil. No more.

I had no idea who I would choose to live and die between Jaime and Dany. And that is perhaps unique to me because in this game of thrones, everyone can choose their own winner and we can all be simultaneously right and wrong. Just as the people of Westeros are born into certain houses, we all have our allegiances. But the time is coming for us to also make important choices, because things can only be happy reunions and convenient river dives and spare Sand Snake killings and flirty-cave-fun-times for so long. Sides will be chosen, alliances will be made, and main characters will start getting their heads chopped off again. Weiss and Bennioff might be out dads, but if TV has taught me anything—and it has taught me literally everything—it's that tough love is the most rewarding form of parenting.

And also that women always keep their bra on during sex—except for right here on H-B-O!