#is that enough people choosing not to vote

[freyjasrage]

First of all they are in a situation where they have no rights. Please think of what it's like to be in prison. No matter how many days they work away they still have to be in prison.

And they are clearly fit enough for society to work amongst the people but their wages are taken away, no matter how little, it's still taken away. And then you have the knowledge that parole is denying them freedom yet still allowing them to work, please think of why that is?? This is not a good program!!

"They're guaranteed a job after prison" ok a job the state choose for them and not a job they might actually enjoy. And even if they are enjoying the job whilst in prison, once they get out they might not like it anymore, then what?? Do you know how hard it is to get a job once you've in been prison and have to notify your potential employers? You don't even get to vote anymore?? AGAIN NOT A GOOD PROGRAM.

[archivequinn]

Never Have I Ever, Drinking Game.

Summary: Eddie and Steve confess their feelings for each other in a fun drinking game. fluff, happy ending.

Words: 2,767

ao3 link | dividers by @strangergraphics 

Eddie was placing a six-pack of beer on the old but sturdy table in the corner of the caravan, smiling at Steve as he did. "Beers are ready. Even if Robin doesn’t show up, our night won’t be ruined," he said with a teasing tone in his voice.

Steve, slouched in a worn but comfortable armchair in the corner of the caravan, was running his hands through his hair and whining. "I mean, seriously... She didn’t even say why she’s not coming! She just sent a message: ‘I can’t make it today, have fun.’ What does that even mean? I don’t get it!"

Eddie chuckled softly as he opened one of the packs on the table. "Oh, it means that sometimes people change plans. Sad but true. But hey, at least we’ve got a perfect excuse to watch a cheesy horror movie tonight. Plus pizza... That’s non-negotiable."

The interior of the caravan was lit by the warm, slightly yellow glow of Eddie’s lamp. Sitting in the armchair, Steve threw his hands up in exasperation and kept talking. "We were supposed to be three tonight. Like a group. A dynamic trio, you know?"

"Three people, two people, what’s the difference?" Eddie said as he sat at the table and popped open one of the beer bottles. "Be honest, Steve. You’re not really upset about Robin not coming tonight. The real issue is, who’s going to comfort you during those dumb jump scares in the horror movie?"

Steve rolled his eyes and grabbed a beer. "You’re ridiculous. Horror movies don’t scare me."

At that moment, Eddie pulled out an old VHS tape from the cabinet above, holding it up in the air. The cover was worn, and the faded label read “Night of Darkness 3” in scrawled letters. "Are you ready, Harrington? This movie was voted the worst horror film of all time. It’s so bad that people cover their eyes out of secondhand embarrassment."

Steve groaned. "If it’s that bad, why are we even watching it?"

"Because there’s an art to badness." Eddie grinned as he slid the VHS into the player and adjusted a tangled pile of cables next to the TV.

The caravan filled with the bluish glow of the old TV’s flickering screen. Between Eddie’s loud laughter, Steve’s grumbling, and the dramatic music of the outdated horror film, the night slowly took shape.

Eddie rolled his eyes as he noticed Steve continuing to complain. Even the terrible horror movie playing on the TV wasn’t enough to distract Steve from Robin’s absence. Meanwhile, a slow grin spread across Eddie’s face. He had a brilliant idea. A perfect way to shut Steve up and have a little fun.

"Alright, Harrington, cut it out. We can’t let the night go to waste just because Robin’s not here. I’ve got a proposition for you," Eddie said, his grin impossible to hide.

Steve looked up at him, his expression skeptical. "What kind of proposition?"

Eddie got up, grabbed a handful of shot glasses from the table, and headed toward the kitchen. “We’re going to play a game,” he said without looking back. Opening the cupboard, he started pulling out various drinks: beer, whiskey, red wine, white wine, and a mixed cocktail. He brought them all to the table and began filling the shot glasses.

Steve frowned as he watched him. “What’s this? A drinking party?”

Eddie shook his head, laughing as he handled the bottles. “Much more than that, Harrington. This is a drinking game. It’s called Never Have I Ever. Here are the rules: We sit across from each other, raise our hands, and take turns saying something we’ve never done in our lives. If the other person has done it, they put a finger down and take a random shot from the table. You can’t choose what you drink—it’s all up to chance. Whoever runs out of fingers first loses. Got it?”

Steve squinted at him. “Alright, but… what if I put down all my fingers at once? Or keep picking the wrong glass?”

Eddie barely held back his laughter. “That’s the fun of it. Nobody wins, everyone loses. But at least we’ll laugh a lot. So, what do you say? Got the guts?”

Steve couldn’t resist Eddie’s challenge and crossed his arms. “I’m not scared of some dumb drinking game!”

Eddie grinned and gestured with both hands. “Hands up, Harrington. I’ll start: Never have I ever flown on a plane.”

Steve gave him an annoyed look. “Seriously? That’s your opening question?” Shaking his head, he put down one finger and grabbed a random shot. He had picked the cocktail. After taking a sip, he raised an eyebrow slightly. “What is this? A tropical candy?”

Eddie responded with laughter. “Oh, Harrington, this is just the beginning. Your turn. Be creative.”

Steve took a deep breath, shot Eddie a challenging look, and raised his hands again. “Alright… Never have I ever jumped onto a concert stage.”

Eddie’s grin froze for a moment. “Oh, clever. You’re targeting me on purpose, aren’t you?” Laughing, he put down a finger and took a shot. He’d picked the whiskey. After a sip, he raised his eyebrows and sniffed slightly. “Good one. But remember, when it’s my turn, I won’t hold back.”

The game picked up pace, laughter and drinks creating a cheerful rhythm that echoed through the caravan as they played.

Eddie, blending the burn of the alcohol with his laughter, was pleased to see Steve’s mood improving. Steve’s exaggerated expressions and muttered comments every time he put down a finger and reached for a random shot made Eddie laugh even harder.

Steve, a bit more relaxed, said, “Alright, my turn,” furrowing his brows as he thought. After a moment, he spoke with a sly grin on his face: “Never have I ever… played Dungeons & Dragons.”

Eddie’s eyebrows shot up, and then he dramatically lowered a finger. “Ah, Harrington. You and your ordinary life! But guess what? This only makes me stronger.” He picked a random glass and downed it quickly. When he realized it was wine, he scrunched up his face. “Wine? Seriously? Not my thing, man.”

Steve couldn’t help but laugh. Eddie raised his fingers again, signaling it was his turn. The mischievous grin on his face widened even more. “My turn. Never have I ever… been popular in high school.”

Steve’s laughter stopped abruptly, turning into a strangled groan at Eddie’s words. “Really, Eddie? That’s your move? Can’t you stop targeting me?” He lowered a finger and grabbed a shot glass from the table. This time, it was whiskey. As he sipped, his face twisted, but his defiant glare at Eddie didn’t waver. “You’re going to pay for that.”

Eddie leaned back in his chair, laughing. “Bring it on, Harrington. You’re terrifying me. Your turn.”

Steve thought for a moment with a cheeky grin before speaking. “Never have I ever… used a fake ID to get into a bar.”

Eddie burst into laughter again, reluctantly lowering another finger. “Alright, alright! I admit it, I’ve done it a few times. But for the record, I didn’t get caught.” He grabbed a random shot, relieved to find it was beer this time. “Looks like my luck’s turning around. But that won’t stop me from destroying you with my next confession.”

The game continued, the confessions becoming both funnier and a bit more personal. When Eddie said, “Never have I ever helped someone put gel in their hair,” Steve lowered another finger, rolling his eyes. “The fact that you make it sound like a crime is upsetting,” he retorted in mock indignation.

When Steve declared, “Never have I ever cried during a horror movie,” Eddie had to lower a finger. “But it was an emotional moment, okay? It happens in good movies!” he defended himself.

Eventually, both of them were down to their last finger. Eddie leaned back against the couch, smirking lightly as he looked at Steve. “One last move, Harrington. Make it count.”

Eddie’s chaotic yet cozy caravan was filled with the faint haze of alcohol, laughter, and gentle shaking from their movements. Steve leaned his head back against the couch, locking eyes with Eddie. Fueled by the alcohol and feeling the weight in his heart begin to lift, he sensed it was the right moment to let it out.

Eddie noticed the look on Steve’s face and smirked teasingly. “Harrington, judging by how hard you’re thinking, is your next move going to be that big? What are you hiding? Come on, let’s hear it.”

Steve took a deep breath, his eyes locked on Eddie’s bright, almost childlike but deeply expressive gaze, and began to speak. “Never have I ever… admitted to someone, especially someone, that I’m truly in love with them.”

Eddie’s laughter stopped abruptly. The sudden shift in mood left him staring at Steve in surprise. “Wow, that’s… that’s a big one, man. I mean, yeah, not the usual kind of thing to say during this game. But… solid move. So, in that case, I guess—”

Steve noticed Eddie trying to brush it off lightly and cut him off. “No, Eddie. I’m not done.”

That statement snapped Eddie’s full attention back to him. The determination in Steve’s expression cut through the air like a knife. Eddie, who had been casually slouched in his seat, straightened up and leaned slightly closer. “Alright, Harrington. I’m listening. Who’s the lucky person? Who’s got you all serious like this?”

Steve hesitated for a moment, studying Eddie’s slightly bewildered but curious face under the dim light of the caravan. It felt as if the rest of the world had disappeared, leaving just the two of them in a heavy silence. “That person...” Steve said, his voice slow but resolute. “That person is you, Eddie.”

Eddie froze in his seat, the weight of Steve’s words landing like a thunderclap. For a moment, he couldn’t speak. The sincerity in Steve’s eyes burned so intensely that Eddie knew instantly this wasn’t a joke.

“Harrington...” Eddie swallowed, searching for words. His face was a mixture of surprise, a faint smile, and a trace of confusion. “This… this is something you say in a drinking game? Or are you actually...”

Steve cut him off again, leaning in slightly. “Eddie, this isn’t a game. It’s not a joke. I’ve felt this way for a long time, but I didn’t know how to say it. Maybe I was scared. But now, here we are, and I have to tell you. Because I can’t keep it to myself anymore.”

Eddie just sat there, staring at Steve, clearly not expecting this kind of confession. Words seemed to elude him, an unusual occurrence for someone so quick-witted. His hands unconsciously gripped his glass tightly.

Steve grew uneasy at Eddie’s lack of response. “Eddie...” he said softly, almost timidly. “Say something, please. If… if this was a mistake or if it makes you uncomfortable...”

Eddie took a deep breath and finally spoke. “Hold on, Steve. This... I mean... are you serious? Really?” His voice wavered slightly, making him appear more vulnerable than Steve had ever seen.

Steve looked into Eddie’s eyes and, summoning every ounce of courage, nodded. “Yes, Eddie. I’m serious. But don’t you understand why it scared me so much to say this? You... you’re different. I never knew how to approach you. Because… what if you rejected me?”

Eddie was still in shock. He ran a hand through his hair and leaned back against the couch. “This... how long have you felt this way?”

Steve lowered his head slightly and sighed. “I don’t know. I can’t remember exactly when it started. But I think the first time I truly felt it was when we were walking and talking together in that damn Upside Down. Watching you, I thought... this guy is someone special. It was hard to admit how I felt at that moment. Because… because you’re the complete opposite of everything I am.”

Eddie let out a sarcastic laugh, but it was nothing more than an attempt to mask his astonishment. “And that’s why you said nothing? Seriously, Steve? God...” He paused for a moment, then averted his gaze from Steve and added, “You know what’s ironic? I’ve... I’ve had feelings for you since high school.”

Steve’s face froze entirely. “What?” he whispered in disbelief. “Eddie, are you... are you serious?!”

Eddie rolled his eyes, though it was just another way to cover up his shyness. “I’m serious, Harrington. But you, Steve Harrington, were the King of Hawkins High. Popular, handsome, the guy everyone chased after. And who was I? A ‘freak,’ the outcast kid. How could I have said anything to you?”

Hearing Eddie’s words, Steve almost flinched as though in pain. “But Eddie… you… how did I not see it? God, I wish I had been braver.”

Eddie shook his head, a bittersweet smile playing on his lips. “If you couldn’t be brave, neither could I. Because I felt the same fear. The fear of losing you. Even when there was the slightest hint of friendship between us, I didn’t want to risk it. And… tonight, when Robin didn’t come, I realized being alone with you scared me. Because I knew exactly how I’d feel.”

Steve became even more emotional at this confession. “That’s why I was a little nervous today, too. But Eddie... the fact that tonight started as just another game night has already made it one of the best moments of my life. Because now, I’m not hiding. And I’m not carrying the fear of losing you. No matter what, I had to tell you this.”

Eddie’s smile slowly faded as he gazed into Steve’s eyes. Steve’s eyes were glistening, fighting back tears. His lips quivered slightly. “Eddie... but what if... what if I made a mistake tonight? What if... what if I ruined everything?” he said, his voice cracking and low.

Eddie immediately grew serious, reaching out to take Steve’s hands in his own. “Hey, hey. Listen to me. This is not a mistake. It’s never a mistake. Everything you’ve said, everything you’ve felt, it’s all real. And I’m here. I’m right here with you.”

Steve nodded, taking a deep breath. “But I’m scared, Eddie. Even just sitting here with you... the possibility that everything could go wrong is killing me. Maybe… maybe I was too open.”

Eddie leaned in closer to Steve’s face, his brown eyes radiating a heartfelt warmth. “Steve Harrington, you are the bravest person in the world. What you did—opening your heart to me—is the biggest thing anyone could do. And know this: I feel the same way. We don’t have to rush this. But there’s one thing you need to know: everything is okay. You and me... this feels so much more right than you think.”

Steve, Eddie’s words seemed to calm him down a little, though he still couldn’t hide the emotional expression on his face. He smiled faintly, licking his lips for a moment before nodding. “So... Eddie, can I ask you something?”

Eddie raised his eyebrows slightly. “Of course. Ask away.”

Steve cleared his throat and spoke a bit shyly. “Who won the game?”

Eddie stayed silent for a moment, then smiled and shook his head. “We both did. Something far more important than any game.”

Steve paused at those words, then leaned in closer to Eddie. “Eddie... I... thank you. For accepting me like this, for seeing me for who I am.”

Eddie tilted his head gently and lightly touched Steve’s cheeks. “You don’t have to say that. I’ve already accepted everything about you long ago. And if you’ll let me... I’d like to try something.”

Steve’s eyes widened slightly, but he didn’t hesitate for even a second before nodding. “I’ll let you.”

Eddie smiled softly as he leaned toward Steve. The distance between them gradually disappeared, their breaths mingling. And finally, Eddie’s lips brushed against Steve’s. It was a kiss that felt soft, gentle, and like the beginning of everything.

After the kiss, Eddie pulled back slightly and murmured with a smile, “I’ve been waiting for that for a long time.”

Steve, still looking slightly stunned and bashful, gazed at him with a wide smile on his face. “I should’ve done this sooner.”

Eddie couldn’t hold back his laughter, shaking his head. “Maybe now was the right time. But you know what, Harrington? This is a pretty good start.”

And in the dim light of the trailer, an old horror movie played in the background. But tonight, neither of them cared to watch. They were about to star in their own movie.

taglist: @t-folklore13 @multyfangirl @nicholaschavezslut69

[witchezandwonderz]

Letters in the Dark

Pairing: Aegon x Reader

Summary: Aegon finds a deep connection with someone through meaningful letters...

You voted for fluffy Aegon so here he is, loud and proud- likes, reblogs and comments are unbelievably appreciated x

The sound of steel clashing echoed faintly from the practice yards as she balanced a basket of freshly pressed linens on her hip. Being a seamstress in the Red Keep wasn’t a glamorous job, but it was steady work. Most days, she spent her hours stitching hems or patching cloaks torn by reckless knights.

Every day was just as busy as the previous, and Y/N was overwhelmed with tiredness and stress, for there was an upcoming event in which Queen Alicent had ordered her to ensure that the entire families clothes were perfection; this meant that her working day was even longer than usual.

Finally arriving at her quarters, she practically ran into the room and shut the giant door firmly behind her, pressing her back against the closed door and fluttering her eyes shut, briefly, taking a deep breath and appreciating a moment of silence.

When reopening her eyes, a stained piece of parchment that peeked through the gap under the door caught her eye. She squinted and bent her body in an attempt to gain a clearer view of the parchment.

"How curious." She whispered to herself as she moved closer- she barely spoke to other humans, or, more so, other humans did not speak to her, let alone send her letters. She reached out and gently guided it from underneath the door, being delicate in the hopes that it would not rip.

She unfolded it carefully, her brow furrowing as she read the neat but bold handwriting:

“To the one who works in silence, You must find your days tiresome, toiling away beneath the weight of others’ expectations. But remember this: no matter how unseen you may feel, your hands create things of worth. And that is more than enough.”

Y/N blinked. She read the words again, her mind racing. Who would send this to me? There was no signature, no name, only the mysterious words that somehow seemed to see her, to understand the exhaustion that clung to her bones. She shook her head. Strange.

Y/N found the letter strange, but she found the meaning even more curious- how did this person know of her feelings? How did this person know of her loneliness? Of her sadness? Of her longing to be noticed? She decided to reply- perhaps too quickly, indeed.

Excited by the circumstance, she quickly grabbed a fresh piece of parchment and a quill, frantically and carelessly dunked it into a pot of ink and began writing.

“To the one who writes in shadows, Your words are a rarity, a gift I did not expect. I often feel like a mere shadow, unseen in the vast halls of the Keep, and yet your letter spoke to something within me. It’s not often that I am reminded that my work, though unnoticed, matters.

I do not know who you are, nor do I know your intentions, but for once, your words have brought me a small comfort amidst the chaos. I wonder, does anyone ever truly see the ones who serve without question? You have, and for that, I thank you.

Yet, I must ask, who are you? And why do you choose to write to me, of all people? I will wait for an answer—though I do not expect one. Until then, The One Who Works in Silence."

She was aware of the difference in length between the two letters, that being that hers was significantly longer than the original senders- but she did not care. This was the first time in years that someone had spoken to her- really spoken to her. Y/N was beginning to think that she was seen as a walking piece of machinery at this point.

Unfortunately, she did not know where to send the letter too- so- she decided to put it in the exact spot where she had found the original note, in the hopes that the sender would return to find it. Y/N wedged the note in between the door and allowed herself to fall into a peaceful slumber, imagining all of the possibilities of whom would be writing to her.

Once waking at the crack of dawn, as usual, Y/N would normally get dressed immediately in preparation for her daily duties. On this occasion, however, her mind automatically flew straight to the prior nights events- the letter. She sprang out of her small, uncomfortable bed and lightly ran to the door- the cold floor boards stinging her bare feet as she moved. If she was completely honest, she did not actually expect the person in question to have responded within a mere night time.

Y/N bent down so that she was held up by her knees, and peered down through the gap in the door. She felt disappointment cloud her as she saw that her parchment was still in the exact spot where she had left it. Nonetheless, she looked closer, just in case. When noticing that the parchment was a slightly darker shade of beige, she smiled to herself. She was mistaken, for it was not her note. They had replied.

Y/N's hands trembled as she reached for the note, her fingertips brushing against the slightly rough parchment. She could not help but feel worried, for a secret exchanging of notes with a stranger may be seen as an act of traitorous events, in the eyes of the King, Aegon. She shook her head at the thought- she did have a habit of overthinking. For a moment, she simply held it, staring at the folded edges and the small blot of ink that marred the corner—proof of its hurried creation.

She sat back down on her bed, swiftly and quietly- the walls were thin and she did not want to wake anyone near. Carefully unfolding the parchment, she sat back slightly in an attempt to seek better comfort from her cold sheets.

"To the One Who Works in Silence, You searched for my reply, and here it is. I must confess, your response lingered in my mind long after I first read it. I am both glad and uneasy that my words have found their mark. Glad, because you deserve to know how deeply you are valued, and uneasy, because I fear my own words may fail to convey the truth of what I feel.

You ask why I write to you, and I wonder if I can provide an answer that satisfies us both. It began with admiration, perhaps—your quiet diligence caught my eye long before I found the courage to put quill to parchment. But it did not stop there. I saw a beauty in you, not just in your face, which holds a grace unmatched in these stone halls, but in the way you move, the way you dedicate yourself to your craft without seeking applause or acknowledgment.

You intrigue me, and I cannot help but feel drawn to know you more. In a world where so many feign sincerity, you seem so utterly and beautifully real. That is why I write to you. That is why I hope you will not turn away from my letters, though they come from someone you cannot yet see.

As to who I am, I am bound by duty and expectation. My name carries weight, and with it, chains I cannot yet escape. I will not lie to you—there may come a time when I must reveal my identity, but for now, I ask you to see me through my words.

Yours, with all honesty, The One Who Sees You."

Y/N felt her cheeks burn hotter and hotter as she read the letter, she read it once, and then twice, and then a third time. She wanted to find a deeper meaning, she wanted to know who this admirer was.

As to who I am, I am bound by duty and expectation. My name carries weight, and with it, chains I cannot yet escape.

So, whoever this is, is someone with a title- someone with a title who resides within the red keep, or at least is extremely close with someone who resides in the red keep. But who? It could not be the King, despite her hopes that it would be. Perhaps Aemond? She shook the thought away, for she had indeed met Aemond many a time, but in every one of their encounters he had offended her in one way or another. Y/N let out a deep sigh, for all she could think about was the fact that a man, for the first time in her life, regards her as beautiful.

The next few weeks involved many letters indeed, sad ones, happy ones, angry ones, emotional ones, you name it- there was a letter for it. Y/N felt naïve, but she honestly felt like she was in love with this secret person- she had never revealed so much of her life, of her emotions. Similarly, she had never experienced anyone being so open and honest with her, either. She burned with desire- all she wanted to know was who it was.

As always, she sat on the end of her bed re reading the previous letter that he had sent during the night.

A quiet knock on the door interrupted her deep and chaotic thoughts. Y/N cleared her throat and flung her sheet over the note before calling "come in."

The door opened and with that, the King's mother, Alicent, entered the room. Y/N had always quite liked Alicent- she was good to her. Especially when Y/N had been sent there to work when she was a child; Alicent saw that it was wrong, to have a child as a servant, so, arranged for Y/N to be taught how to make clothing. Hence, why Y/N was now the lead clothing maker for Kings Landing.

Alicent smiled brightly at Y/N. "Y/N, you are late." She said, walking further into the room, her smile now fading. "Get dressed, I need your help with the finishing touches for the banquet." Alicent barely looked at her, clearly riddled with stress about the anticipated events.

"I will wait for you outside, hurry up!" Alicent called out, before walking out of the room and pulling the door shut. Y/N let out a deep sigh, for all she could think about was the fact that a man, for the first time in her life, regards her as beautiful.

She quickly got dressed, laced up her boots and tucked the letter into a draw, where she kept all of the accumulated confessions. She sighed, realising that she would not have enough time to write a letter back, she would have to wait until she is released back to her room to get ready for the banquet. Never mind.

Moments later, Y/N followed Alicent out into the hallway. The queen walked briskly, her gown sweeping the stone floors. Y/N tried to match her pace, though her thoughts strayed again to the mysterious writer, as they always did.

As they turned a corner, the two nearly collided with Aegon, who stopped abruptly, a startled look flashing across his face.

“Mother,” he greeted, his usual nonchalance missing entirely. His hands twitched at his sides, and his gaze flicked nervously to Y/N before darting away just as quickly.

“Aegon,” Alicent said sharply, crossing her arms. “Shouldn’t you be preparing yourself?”

“I—yes,” he stammered, his usual glib tone replaced by something softer, almost uncertain. “I was… just heading there.”

Y/N curtsied quickly, her eyes fixed on the floor. “My King.”

Aegon’s response came slower than usual, his voice quieter. “Y/N.” The way he said her name sent a ripple through her chest. She dared a glance up, meeting his eyes for a moment before he looked away again, his cheeks tinged with a faint pink. She felt awful- she had always taken a liking to Aegon, but she had a lover now- well, technically anyway and loyalty meant everything to her.

Alicent sighed. “Come, Y/N. We have no time to waste.” She moved forward, but Y/N lingered half a step behind, waiting for Aegon to move aside.

He hesitated, his hand twitching slightly as though he wanted to reach for something—or someone. As Y/N stepped forward, his fingers brushed lightly against the back of her hand, barely a touch, but enough to send a shiver down her spine. Her head snapped towards him in confusion, but he had already begun walking away.

To Y/N's surprise, Alicent stopped suddenly, in turn nearly causing Y/N to topple over. Alicent turned instantly, calling after Aegon once again. "Actually, I have changed my mind, Aegon!" Her voice carried loudly and echoed throughout the stone walls. Aegon hesitated before stopping and turning back, causing Alicent to speak once more. "I think you should do your fitting with Y/N now, there may need to be some finishing touches."

Y/N panicked, she did not expect to have to see Aegon so soon after the awkward, yet satisfying slight moment of intimacy.

"Now?" He asked, his eyes looking around him. Alicent nodded. "Yes. Is there a problem?"

Aegon shook his head before walking towards the pair. Alicent gave them both a curt nod before turning on her heel and walking briskly down the corridor, her gown flowing behind her like a banner.

Y/N and Aegon looked at each other blankly for a moment before Y/N decided to fill the awkward silence. "This way, your Grace." She flashed him a small, nervous smile, before using her arm to gesture down the hall.

Aegon did not speak, and one of Y/N's downfalls, she thought, was that she was incapable of allowing a silence- she just had to fill it, always.

"My apologies, your Grace, as this may sound out of my bounds but all of my things are kept in my room." She breathed, as they walked briskly down the empty halls. "Would you mind doing the fitting in there? Or would you prefer me to gather the things and do-"

Her words were interrupted.

"Your room will be fine." Her head snapped up at him, but he was looking at the ground once more. She did not respond with words, but instead hummed quietly.

Y/N’s nerves thrummed in her chest as they reached her modest quarters. Her hand trembled slightly as she opened the door, stepping aside to let Aegon enter first. He hesitated for a moment, then crossed the threshold, his movements awkward and uncharacteristically cautious.

“Please, your Grace,” she said, gesturing towards the small space. “It’s not much, but it should suffice.”

Aegon nodded, his eyes sweeping over the room, taking in the neatly folded fabrics, spools of thread, and tools that spoke to her craft. He seemed strangely out of place, his royal attire a stark contrast to the simplicity of her surroundings.

Y/N busied herself at her work table, retrieving the measurements and pins she would need. The silence stretched between them, heavy and oppressive. She chanced a glance at him, only to find him staring at her with an expression she couldn’t quite place.

“Your Grace?” she prompted, her voice soft.

He blinked, as though snapping out of a trance. “Yes, of course,” he said hurriedly, stepping onto the small platform she had indicated.

Y/N approached him cautiously, draping the cloak over his shoulders. Her fingers brushed against his neck as she adjusted the fabric, and she felt him stiffen slightly under her touch.

“I trust the preparations are to your liking, my King?” she asked, trying to keep her tone professional despite the fluttering in her chest.

“Yes,” he replied, though his voice was quieter than usual. He shifted his weight, his hands fidgeting at his sides. “You’ve always done excellent work, Y/N.”

The use of her name, spoken so gently, made her pause. She looked up at him, her brows furrowing in slight confusion. “Thank you, your Grace,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Aegon opened his mouth to speak, and then quickly closed it again. Seemingly having changed his mind, it opened once more.

"Y/N, I know about the letters."

Y/N felt her heart leap in her chest, and her eyes visibly widened. She told herself to calm down, and act natural.

"I am unsure of what you mean, your Grace." She breathed, busying herself with a needle. Aegon let out a sigh. "It is ok Y/N I know everything." He said calmly. Y/N unhooked the needle from the garment and looked at him. "I am sorry, your Grace." Her words left her mouth unbelievably quietly- almost a whisper, although she had not intended them too.

Aegon's eyes softened. "Why are you sorry?" He asked, but before giving her a chance to answer, he spoke once more. "It is me that should apologise. You have been speaking with me." He stated, he had not intended for the confession to be so sudden, and so blunt at that. Y/N's brows furrowed in confusion, it couldn't have been him all along- the King himself?

Aegon could sense Y/N's inability to find the correct words, so took the chance to explain himself further. "I have never felt so close to someone, Y/N, these past few weeks have been." He paused, and then smiled. "They have been so enjoyable, getting to know you. You are the only person that has ever truly listened to me, the real me."

“You?” she whispered, her voice almost inaudible. “You’re the one who’s been writing to me?”

Aegon nodded slowly, his eyes fixed on hers, vulnerable yet unflinching. “I am,” he said simply, his tone earnest. “It was selfish, perhaps, to write to you as I did. To let you share so much of yourself with me without revealing who I was. But I couldn’t stop. Your words—they were like a light in a very dark place.”

Y/N opened her mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Aegon took a hesitant step forward, closing the gap between them. His presence was overwhelming, but she couldn’t bring herself to move away.

“I know it must come as a shock,” he continued, his voice quieter now, almost tender. “But everything I wrote, every word, was true. I meant it all. And more.”

Y/N looked up at him, eyes wide, like a deer caught in headlights. "I meant everything too." Aegon instantly relaxed at her words, almost as if all he needed was the slight indication that she was not too disheartened with discovering that it was him.

"From the moment that I saw you, I felt close to you. This may sound, slightly strange, but the words that we have exchanged have caused me to develop deep affections for you." His eyes, that were firmly gazed into hers, now fell to the floor.

Her breath caught in her throat. “Your Grace…”

“Aegon,” he corrected gently, his hand covering hers fully now. “Please, just Aegon."

Aegon’s gaze flicked down to her lips, his breath uneven as though caught between anticipation and restraint. “May I?” he asked, his voice trembling with uncharacteristic shyness.

Y/N nodded, her cheeks warming as she tilted her head slightly.

He leaned in, his movements slow and deliberate, as though giving her every chance to pull away. When their lips finally met, it was soft, hesitant, and achingly sweet. The kiss was not one of fiery passion, but of quiet devotion, a promise that words could never fully convey.

When they parted, Aegon pressed a small kiss to her forehead, his mouth then curving into a shy smile.

"I want you to be my wife, Y/N." He admitted, looking deep into her soul once again. Y/Ns heart panged, for she wanted to marry him, of course she did- but she knew that it was not possible.

"Aegon." She whispered. "I love you." Y/N leant up and pressed a lingering kiss to his lips. "But, we would never be accepted." She bit her lip slightly.

Aegon shrugged. "Accepted by who?" He asked, a smirk now creeping onto his expression.

Y/N playfully rolled her eyes. "Your mother, for one, your sister, your brother, the whole of Westeros? I started as a servant, Aegon." Y/N rambled, panic arising within her at the thought of potential judgement. Aegon watched her with amusement.

"I am the King, Y/N. You may have been a servant once, but not now. You will be the Queen." His fingers intertwined with hers.

Y/N sighed. "You really think that it is this simple, don't you?" She too now held a small smile on her face. Aegon mimicked her expression before placing a kiss on her nose.

"I have spent my reign thus far, terrified that my mother will force me to marry a random woman. I have finally found love, a woman who I actually see myself having a future with." His hands now found the back of her hair, as he pulled her close and embraced her in a hug.

"I will not let you go now."

[3liza]

a looooooooooot of American leftist perspective on what is good or possible with basic policy about land use, recycling, public transit etc is so fucked up purely because we are completely unaware that much of Europe has been doing stuff we consider pie in the sky laughable dreamerism (like effectively and safely going home from shift work or from a nightclub at 3am on the subway, or recycling anything instead of strip mining a mountain every time we need to bottle beer, or turning vacant office buildings into apartments, etc) for decades or centuries.

you do not find out about it unless you're fortunate enough to visit and stay long enough to actually interact with the infrastructure, not just as a tourist, because likewise the Europeans just assume we can take buses everywhere or get 25¢ for a beer bottle and simply choose to live in suffering and profligacy out of simple American degenerate preference for driving cars and smashing bottles until an American tells them exactly how bad everything is here, which they can hardly believe

[companion-showdown]

Who had the worst time aboard the TARDIS?

TOURNAMENT MASTERPOST

[leadyouinthesummer]

this is fun pls click a button for me. i picked a mix of all-time faves and recent faves.

honorary mentions: along the shadow and boom. done. i didn't want to include a million anthony options.

pls reblog if you vote and tell me what you picked <3

[dark-night-star-light]

Thinking about running a best character, best ship, or best quote bracket. Here's how each would hypothetically work (and vote in the poll at the bottom, please!):

The issue with characters would be that I’d have to go through all eighteen and a half books to find all the characters, or the other option is I only take characters that get submitted by the seven of us chilling here together in this hot tub (because like for Conor against Tepin, who the hell’s gonna vote for Tepin, right?). I would also allow you to submit propaganda to get your fav as far as possible and anti-paganda if you want a certain character to lose (as long as you keep it light-hearted and don't try to bash anyone that actually votes for that character etc. etc. etc.).

For ships, I will definitely only take submitted ships, because there are an infinite amount of ships that could happen otherwise. But I'll take anything no matter how crackship-y or rarepair-y it is (within limits, obviously no pedo/incest ships). Tentatively saying I will again allow propaganda and (light-hearted) anti-paganda, since I'm hoping we as a fandom are mature enough to let this be a chill experience and not devolve into ship bashing (I'm pretty sure we are, we're not the a/t/l/a fandom, so).

And for quotes, again, I'd only make a bracket out of quotes that get submitted. I'm not sure if I will allow propaganda for this one, because it seems kind of self-explanatory. But maybe, if people want it. If you submit a quote, you'd have to be able to tell me which book it was from, the page or chapter number, and who said it for it to be allowed into the bracket, although if you're not sure of one of those things, you could just tell me and I'd try to find it (I own all the books, so it wouldn't be a problem). I may or may not allow you to submit context or background for the quote (in some cases that can ruin the quote, or give it an unfair advantage). Quotes would be allowed to be as unserious or serious as you want, there will be no restrictions on it whatsoever (just don't make your quote, like, a single word or something).

In any case, you’d be allowed to submit as many characters/ships/quotes as you want. I would not reveal who submitted what character/ship/quote if that's something you choose to reveal to me, unless you want me to. I’m not sure how submissions will work, either through my ask box (don't worry, anon asks would be on) or through an anonymous Google form. Of course, my DMs are always open, too, if you want to submit something through there.

Your propaganda would be allowed to be anonymous or not (if you want the credit). It would also be allowed to be as short or as long as you want, and as unserious or serious as you want (you could literally submit, like, "Vote for Rollan, he's so funny and he needs a hug" as propaganda and I would accept it, or you can go deep and start talking about his parallels and arc and motifs and backstory and personality and hardcore analysis stuff, and that would also be fine). If multiple people submit propaganda for the same character/ship/quote, I’ll keep them all, and you are allowed to submit propaganda or anti-propaganda for as many characters/ships/quotes as you would like. When we're approaching the start of the bracket, I'll also say how many pieces of propaganda and anti-poganda were submitted for each character/ship/quote. That way, if a character/ship/quote has no propaganda or anti-paganda, it would be giving everyone a warning that that's the case and that it's the last chance to submit for them. Your propaganda also doesn't have to have any basis in canon. You could make up headcanons about a character and submit them as propaganda and that would be entirely fair game. You would not be allowed to submit links to analysis posts as propaganda, though, even if it's yours. Everything submitted needs to be something you wrote specifically for the bracket.

I would be the judge of whether the anti-propaganda crosses the line into bashing (no hard feelings, sometimes tone can be weird over text), and if it does I'd delete it but let whoever submitted it know that I did, so that they could try to submit something milder. Also, keep in mind that propaganda is subjective. Something you submit as anti-propaganda might actually resonate as propaganda with other people (like saying "Meilin was a racist and a classist" as anti-propaganda might just register as "Oh, she had such fantastic character development!" with some people, completely ruining what you were trying to do). Seems counterproductive, but if you have mixed feelings, I'd allow you to submit propaganda and anti-propaganda for the same character/ship/quote (I don't think anyone will actually do this, but it's an option).

If you have something else you want to add, put it in the tags. I’m also going to open up my ask box soon, so if you want to yell at me anonymously, that’ll be the place to go.

Hate to be that person, but reblog for sample size, please.

[endlessdemento]

not to get personal on my personal blog, but this last year especially has really made me reevaluate my life, my priorities, and pushed me to do the right things for not only myself but the world around me.

I just feel like I gained a lot of resolve and a desire to live and i’m trying really hard to retain my hope that if we continue to strive for a better world we will see it in our lifetimes.

[bugeyedfreaks]

Short poll for my followers because I’ve been thinking about it…

[missionlameturtle]

imagine having visited a state once & thinking that makes you more of an expert on whether it contains democratic voters than, you know, a democratic voter who's spent their entire life there

here's the thing about "solidly red" states. Wyoming, by some measures the reddest state in the country, had one of its strongest republican showings ever in 2020. and EVEN SO, if all of the Wyomingites who didn't vote then had voted for Biden, Wyoming would've gone blue. I haven't looked at the voter turnout numbers this year, but I expect it's a similar situation in 2024.

the thing of it is, the majority of the people who don't vote in states like Wyoming ARE people who would vote democrat, because they're people who believe their vote doesn't count in their state.

your vote always has the potential to count; it's only guaranteed not to when you don't cast it

[captain-lonagan]

something something.

the difference in how team vibe/leadership appears from the outside is still crazy to me. like i didnt watch a lot of soulfire pov and so hearing the tales of how things were internally is such a wild contrast to how they looked. I SAY THIS WITH LOVE IN MY HEART. PEACE AND KINDNESS AND BEAUTY ON PLANET EARTH.

like my mind particularly hones in on tubbo saying bbh was out of control and such in his discussions with (if im remembering correctly) phil and foolish. i cannot be damned to bring up every instance of things but the general vibe of blue from POV outsider was like, tubbo is leader in name only and bbh is making aggressive plays without talking it over with his team first.

but the soulfire livebloggers tell me that soulfire is operating with 3 person leadership split between tubbo, bbh, and tina. the word on the street is the majority of blue is chill and working together. which i would Not know if not for those blessed bloggers because my watching habits meant i saw tina and soulfire's base once in a blue moon (hehe blue team blue moon). so the face of soulfire i saw was Mostly bbh, pierre, and tubbo, which did not aid in the impression of the organization i got during the early days.

on a different but related note, i'm fuckin dying to better know how Decisions happened with that 3 leader gig. like i'm used to the drill usually being phil gets on early, sees the stats and calls out what tasks are priority that day, and then the team balls and focuses on that task because it is Decided.

[woltourney]

we've got 25 submissions so far, and another 5 days until the poll closes!!! i've just read through everyone's submissions and i think they're all so fun!!! (and for anyone worried they might not have gotten in- everyone so far has been approved!)

[medicinemane]

Make Puerto Rico a state already, don't like having second class Americans, and that's how I'd describe it when they're out there paying taxes, contributing to the good of the country, but they don't even get representation via things like a senator

Like I'm sat here thinking about it and... do Puerto Ricans living in Puerto Rico even get to vote for president? Cause... that's never listed in the electoral college vote count, so I'm gonna guess no

Seem to remember hearing somewhere something about "no taxation without representation", sounded pretty good I thought

Make Puerto Rico a state, make them a state. Every year I get more and more pissed off as I think about how fellow Americans are treated like this. I'm extremely pro Puerto Rico, they're clearly a part of the union... you either make them a state or make them their own country, you don't keep people trapped in this limbo state where they've got less rights than I do

[kodashi21]

It is quite suspicious that when people and the press had already started talking about Project 2025 and Trump appears several times in Epstein's papers showing how he raped 13-year-old girls, this "attack" occurs and the press has stopped talking about Project 25.

Even more suspicious is how Trump met with Orban, who is an ally of Putin, and Putin is an expert in faking attacks against him and this is exactly what happened. I don't want to say that everything is false, but Trump spent years on a reality show, so it is still suspicious.

Anyways, what happened does not take away from the fact that Trump is still a sexual predator, a con man and a thief, who has provoked an insurrection, has filled this country with hatred and wants to turn the USA into a North Korea 2.0. Keep reminding people of that.

Some of yall needed to hear this

Credits to @/mattxiv on Instagram

[scientia-rex]

When I was in ninth grade I wanted to challenge what I saw as a very stupid dress code policy (not being allowed to wear spikes regardless of the size or sharpness of the spikes). My dad said to me, “What is your objective?”

He said it over and over. I contemplated that. I wanted to change an unfair dress code. What did I stand to gain? What did I stand to lose? If what I really wanted was to change the dress code, what would be my most effective potential approach? (He also gave me Discourses on the Fall of Rome by Titus Livius, Machiavelli’s magnum opus. Of course he’d already given me The Prince, Five Rings, and The Art of War.)

I ultimately printed out that phrase, coated it in Mod Podge, and clipped it to my bathroom mirror so I would look at it and think about it every day.

What is your objective?

Forget about how you feel. Ask yourself, what do you want to see happen? And then ask, how can you make it happen? Who needs to agree with you? Who has the power to implement this change? What are the points where you have leverage over them? If you use that leverage now, will you impair your ability to use it in the future? Getting what you want is about effectiveness. It is not about being an alpha or a sigma or whatever other bullshit the men’s right whiners are on about now. You won’t find any MRA talking points in Musashi, because they are not relevant.

I had no clear leverage on the dress code issue. My parents were not on the PTA; neither were any of my friend’s parents who liked me. The teachers did not care about this. Ultimately I just wore what I wanted, my patent leather collar from Hot Topic with large but flattened spikes, and I had guessed correctly—the teachers also did not care enough to discipline me.

I often see people on tumblr, mostly the very young, flail around in discourse. They don’t have an objective. They don’t know what they want to achieve, and they have never thought about strategizing and interpersonal effectiveness. No one can get everything they want by being an asshole. You must be able to work with other people, and that includes smiling when you hate them.

Read Machiavelli. Start with The Prince, but then move on to Discourses. Read Musashi’s Five Rings. Read The Art of War. They’re classics for a reason. They can’t cover all situations, but they can do more for how you think about strategizing than anything you’re getting in middle school and high school curricula.

Don’t vote third party unless you can tell me not only what your objective is but also why this action stands a meaningful chance of accomplishing it. Otherwise, back up and approach your strategy from a new angle. I don’t care how angry you are with Biden right now. He knows about it, and he is both trying to do something and not doing enough. I care about what will happen to millions of people if we have another Trump presidency. Look up Ross Perot, and learn from our past. Find your objective. If it is to stop the genocide in Palestine now, call your elected representatives now. They don’t care about emails; they care about phone calls, because they live in the past. I know this because I shadowed a lobbyist, because knowing how power works is critical to using it.

How do you think I have gotten two clinics to start including gender care in their planning?

Start small. Chip away. Keep working. Find your leverage; figure out how and when to effectively use it. Choose your battles, so that you can concentrate on the battle at hand instead of wasting your resources in many directions. Learn from the accumulated wisdom of people who spent their lives learning by doing, by making mistakes, by watching the mistakes of their enemies.

Don’t be a dickhead. Be smarter than I was at 14. Ask yourself: what is your objective?