#so I picked Alice

[otrtbs]

there's a thing in the summer evening, when the sun goes down and the moon is high and full in the sky, cooling everything off just slightly, where the surrounding neighborhood kids come out and play baseball in a makeshift baseball field and everyone gets really into it. like, really into it. they have to bring their own battery operated lights for the field, they have bets running on the different teams playing (a few dollars, baseball cards, packs of gum, coins, stickers, yo-yo's, single cigarettes (how'd those get in there?) sunglasses, watches, candy, you name it).

and no adults allowed. not that they encroach on the fun, but the first game starts at one in the morning so who's got the time?

and since sirius left to live with james, regulus is shut up in the house and has to hear about the great baseball extravaganza from barty in a "your brother is on the james potter all-star team i've got $50 in the pool, we have to go to the tournament" kinda way. and regulus is like "my mother would actually kill me and explicitly forbids it but i'll think about it."

but barty shows up just after midnight on game day and starts throwing rocks at regulus' window to get him to come out except he runs out of small rocks and moves to bigger ones and gets impatient and throws the big rocks harder and then oops, one went right through a window, except this house isn't regulus' house. regulus' house is two doors down, it's just hard to see in the dark. so barty moves two doors down and finds some smaller rocks and starts over again until regulus comes out. scowling, but he's out.

and they start the long walk to the makeshift baseball field and it's hot and the air is sticky and sweet with honeysuckles. and barty and regulus talk. and barty buys regulus boiled peanuts and crackerjack from a kid's makeshift concession stand and they sit in the makeshift bleachers side by side with their knees knocking together. and barty manages to make sly remarks that make regulus laugh. and regulus makes last minute bets and watches the game, and starts getting into it, and barty smiles at the way he's on the edge of his seat, brows furrowed in concentration. barty thinks he even sees regulus clap once, and it's fun watching regulus, more fun than watching the game, even.

so fun that barty says he'll get regulus the next night to watch the next two teams play. regulus agrees, and they make this a routine and barty thinks, finally.

but then it's james' team that's up next and james walks up to the plate and does a trick with his baseball bat with a grin so-wide and a wink, and regulus' eyes are as wide a saucers for a brief second before he catches himself but it doesn't matter. barty's seen it, and knows instantly he's made a mistake. he's signed himself up for a summer of looking at regulus look at james. and he's doomed.

[redrosesandcharmingsouls]

Alicole scenes are all amazing but we should never forget the first Alicole scene ever :The one where Young Alicent is looking tenderly at Criston as he just got back from a fight and has blood on the corner of his mouth .

[big-edies-sun-hat]

It would be easier, I think, to tell ourselves that artists who act badly were always monsters—mimics, empty people—and that their work was a performance intended purely to succeed. Sometimes that seems to be true. The paintings of Thomas Kinkade and the, well, the entire deal of Bill Cosby comes to mind.

What’s harder is accepting that the work of badly behaved artists is real—that on its own terms, it was genuine, and you responded to it. You are a person and so are they. You felt the emotions, were moved by the insights, laughed at the jokes. It stands by itself, and if you hadn’t known, you wouldn’t see it differently.

It doesn’t mean that you’re complicit or that you can’t judge, not in the least. And it certainly doesn’t mean that the artist shouldn’t face the penalties and shame that they’ve earned, however that may be. We just all have to sit with the knowledge that we shared this with them—that we were moved by someone we couldn’t trust in a dark alley.

When I was coming up, caring about what an artist did on their off time made you a feminist scold at best and a naive idiot at worst. I’m glad the pendulum has swung away from that because I could never bear it. Still, what remains will remain, and we have to make our own ways here.

[sunfyredefender77]

i'm so obsessed with them it's not even funny anymore

[esotericdogboy]

something something jon, martin, and jonah chillin in the puter but now they’re shimejis. is this anything

[helaenalyst]

the way gwayne said wish us luck instead of just wish me luck... i think he could tell what was up from all the glances that alicent was shooting in criston's direction (if he didn't know already) and offered her a chance to bid them both farewell since she couldn't get a moment with criston alone. he could've easily left criston out of it but he didn't... i love these three

[nyoclosmom]

i need aaa headcanons but it's y'all guessing their mario kart mains

[wisegirl-seaweedbrain]

and the crowd… exchanges confused glances?

[paperglader]

my biggest hotd headcanon is that modern day alicent’s top artist is sabrina carpenter. She’s obsessed. She also sobs to Chappel Roan like a mf when she’s on her own

[siren-crown]

I think one of the worst things the HotD fandom did is their reaction to Alicent post-birth. There were so many posts flying around stating Alicent is a bad mom because she looked uninterested in her babies and used the nannies.

It never occurred to anyone that the girl who lost her mom at a young age would struggle with motherhood? It never occurred to anyone that the girl in a loveless marriage who was forcefully impregnated may not be happy after giving birth? People really looked at those sad, disassociated eyes as she cradled a baby the size of her upper body and thought, "Yeah she's the monster here".

To compare with Rhaenyra:

Alicent was a child giving birth to children, while Rhaenyra was at least a little bit older (Still not good for either of them).

Alicent was forced into pregnancy with a man she doesn't love, while Rhaenyra was able to choose and consent to her partner.

Alicent had no support system: her mom died when she was young, Viserys became uninterested after Aegon's birth wore off, and her own father was only interested in the kids' claim to the throne (Otto also left court- which made Alicent even more alone). Rhaenyra had Laenor, Harwin Strong, and seems Viserys is a bit more supportive towards her (Not by much though. It's like comparing a finger nail and a hair's width).

For the record, I don't think Rhaenyra's situation is that much better and both still have it bad. Rhaenyra was still expected to have kids and had them way to young.

I am trying to point out the fandom unjustly went after a teen mom/wife who probably suffered from postpartum depression.

[dirtytransmasc]

[mild tw for marital rape/forced 'consent' its only referenced a little, but it feels necessary to mention it]

imagine Alicent only standing up for herself when Aegon is in the picture. Imagine her talking her son to her chambers cause he's fussy and won't go down for bed and was asking for his mum, and she has him tucked close, blissfully asleep, and Viserys calls for her.

she knows she can't refuse, but she tells the servant he had sent to make him aware of Aegon's state. he still demands that she be brought to his chambers and that the babe go back to his nursemaid. she looks down at her baby, who's now woken due to the disturbance, who is staring up at her with soft tired eyes, a little yawn escaping him.

she doesn't want to go, she doesn't want to be forced to take her husband, to pleasure him at her own discomfort. she doesn't want to leave her son, to have him sent back to bed where he will remain restless and in the care of someone who is not his mother. she had never want to refuse more than she did in that moment.

she hesitates, her facade falters. Aegon is still looking up at her as tears well up in her eyes. he quirks his head at her, fingers reaching for her cheeks as if to comfort her. with a sudden conviction, she takes him in her arms, rising from the bed, requesting a robe and a blanket. when her servant looks at her in question, she clarifies that she will be taking Aegon with her and does not wish to rouse him in attempts to dress him. they look at her with shock, but don't voice the concern written on their faces.

they bring her Viserys's favorite robe. Alicent recognizes it from her time with Rhaenyra and Aemma. she's worn it before, Viserys has made sure the servants bring it to her every time he requests her. she hates the way it feels against her skin, knowing why he makes her wear it. she wraps aegon in his blanket, soft and royal blue, his hands beginning to play with its golden tassles as she tucks him inside her robe, pressed to her chest with care.

even as fear bites at her heels, anxiety churning her stomach, she walks to Viserys's chamber with her held high. she knows she is only asking for her husband's wrath; she knows she should just obey him, but she just can't. her son will not suffer a sleepless night and horrid following day all because her husband feels the need to use her body once more. he will not suffer at his father's hands tonight, even if she has to endure Viserys's anger for it.

she enters her husband's chambers, finding him in bed, in a white night gown, clearly ready to use her; he was never subtle when he asked for her, not even the first time.

she pauses in the doorway, pulling back the robe slightly, making him aware of Aegon's presence. she watches his face fall, barely muted anger. she holds onto Aegon tighter. part of her fears he may hurt her for this disturbance, but more of her fears he will hurt Aegon on her behalf.

"I told the damned servants to take him," his voice is warped and cruel, just an angry scowl of sorts.

"Aegon is not well, dear husband... I could not leave him," she admits before he can say anything else. she puts her foot forward as a mother, hoping to claim mercy from the man who made her one.

he mutters something in response, not quite loud enough for her to hear. she has a feeling she is grateful for that.

"what was it you needed, my dear?" she tries to sound sweet and kind, in attempts to abate his anger, "I'm sure I could still attend to it."

"you know what I wanted," he yelled. it had been the first time he'd truly raised his voice to her. she couldn't help but gasp, stepping back one step, than two, stopping when Aegon began to fuss, curling around him instead.

"Please Viserys, the baby." she ducks her head down to press her against his whispy white hair. her son his huffing, as if about to cry, and she's sure if she could see his face, his little cheeks would be red and his eyes would be crinkled and wet, his lip puckered. she begins to rock him slightly, still afraid to move.

"your'e dismissed," he grunts, but his tone gives it away. she knows he doesn't mean it, the if she leaves she will be in more trouble. she questions staying, calling a servant to take Aegon and giving him what he wants, but decides against it. he would not come before her son, not now, not ever.

"I'm sorry, my dear, another night, when I do not have Aegon to tend to," she forces some cheer into her tone, "he is still so young, so helpless. he needs his mother. I'm sure you understand?"

"he is not the only one in need of you." he had not lost his anger yet. not even for the sake of his son.

"yes, of course. forgive me. only he is not as understanding as you, my love." that wasn't the truth, Aegon was more kind and understanding at a year old, than viserys was in all of his years. "I will leave now. I am sorry for the disturbance."

she pauses for a moment, waiting for her husbands reaction. when he doesn't lash out at her, she breathes a quiet sigh of relief, feeling as though she has evaded a great beast. her heart calms in her chest, slowing from its fluttering and her stomachs stops its dizzing ache. she questions turning and running, fleeing from his presence before he can change his mind, but knows better.

she hurries to his side, eyeing him all the while, each step calculated, avoiding cracking any eggshells, until she is close enough to kiss his cheek. he allows it, and gives Aegon grace when he reaches out for him, letting him play with his finger a moment, before pulling it away, not even turning away fully before sneering. she takes that as her cue to leave, this one being much more genuine than the last.

"goodnight dear husband." he says nothing. she takes Aegon's little hand, waving it slightly, "say goodnight Aegon."

her son tries to imitate her, though unintelligible, as a toddler would. she continues to smile and coo at him even when his father ignores him, not letting him feel his father's scorn, quickly turning towards the door and back to her own chambers.

the second the door is close she feels herself sag, she would have fallen to the floor right then and there had there not been kingsgaurd watching. instead she holds her head high once more, walking calm and steady, like a queen should.

Aegon settles his forehead against her collar, giving a great yawn against her skin. she smiles at him fondly, kissing his brow, earning a tired little giggle from him. it hits her that he is unaware of the trouble he just saved her from. she feels equal parts relief as she does terror; she hopes he never knows, never understands, but is so so thankful for it none the less.

the second she steps into her chambers she pulls of the robe, setting it aside carefully despite the pain it brings her, respecting the memories it carried. she pulls back the covers before smothering her and her son amongst them. he's quick to curl against her, quite tuckered out after their harrowing adventure, even if he was unaware of its true weight. she herself still wanted to cry, but was similarly too tired to keep her eyes open for another moment. tomorrow, she tells herself, tomorrow will be difficult, but tonight you have your son, tonight you have a chance to rest.

so she does, she holds him close, tracing fingers over the gold threaded patterned of his blanket, feeling the shifting of his chest as he breathes and the tickle of his hair against her neck. all is well in that moment. she drifts to sleep at the thought.

[dykesynthezoid]

Typical Alice and Daniel Molloy marriage moment. 2 me

[phoebebuggers]

me at 14 wondering why i love alice oseman books sm:

me at almost 18 faced with the terrifying reality that i might be ace/possibly aro: ..

[the-maddened-hatter]

So I've mentioned before that my irl friend and my partner got me to watch HoTD, but since we got caught up to the season finale of that we're now watching GOT.

So during a Littlefinger & Varys scene one of them mentioned how the two of them could both just absolutely kick Larys' ass as whisper masters and just now all I can picture is Larys just fucking full on snot crying after they've been bullying him at like 1/10th of their power for one (1) day and he's just like "Alicent can you come pick me up? I'm scared."

[lady-arryn]

Alicent Hightower Appreciation Week Day 1 - favourite episode

[stelmao]

my non weeb uni friends made a smash cake as a surprise for my bday a few months ago and i have the sudden urge to draw all of the characters they picked

base from https://id.pinterest.com/pin/301811612544924862/