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#i am Bitches
the-house-wins · 1 year
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unsmokedroses · 2 months
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bitches be like “oh, look, a new emotion” and then it’s thomas from the maze runner
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eosphoroz · 1 year
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Bitches be like "he's my comfort character" and the comfort character was the leader of a vampiric Satanic cult under a Parisian cemetery.
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AYRTON SENNA during the 1994 FORMULA ONE WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP
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nekohrine · 9 months
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vampires are just bitches with extremely extreme avoidant/restrictive food intake disorder who are Too Tired of people telling them just to eat normal food
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worldenough-and-time · 7 months
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Sleep deprived in the airport so I’m gonna be Richard Siken posting. So this quote from one of his interviews (that he referenced in his tweets) is interesting to me because it begs the question- if we move something to the erotic to then pull back in order to find tenderness, how then do we apply this to sapphic relationships? Erotic relationships between women are fetishized by cisheteropatriarchy. So how then do we push forward in order to pull back? If we push into an erotic that is already co-opted and fetishized by patriarchy, how do we push further?
Perhaps this explains the prevalence of sapphic horror. The worst thing sapphic women can be in the eyes of cisheteropatriarchy is not erotic, but horrific. Taking something fetishizable and make it gross. And only then, now that we have pushed past what is desirable to cisheteropatriarchy, can we pull back and find tenderness free from the partrarchichal gaze.
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birdsribcage · 7 days
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Sometimes I just want the idea of a cigarette and not actually want to smoke one
*I tell myself while in a corner in fetal position sweating profusely and rocking back and fourth*
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sant-riley · 1 year
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Goodnight to everyone who likes Ghost bc you can process your trauma with him and he makes you feel safe and protected like you deserved to be but never got as you grew up <3
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xsweetxpeachx · 10 months
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i hate all these “carve your initials into me” posts. you bitches would never. shut the fuck up about it
Hahaha
“Bitches would never”
The N on my leg says otherwise.
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I am property and proud ☺️
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boypussydilf · 6 months
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it is literally the middle of the night but hello grof nation. i wrote a fic about betty (not) adjusting to ooo. please enjoy
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just-an-enby-lemon · 6 months
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Bitches be like: this show has the most amazing mind blowing plot twist and then the twist is that the show it's named after the main characther.
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newergrowup · 6 months
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bitches be like i want what they have
the they in question:
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librosamarillos · 5 months
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passed down like folk songs
chapter 36: rumour has it
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Maegor Targaryen x OC
Also on Ao3
chapter index
Tags: hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, angst, mature themes, targaryen incest, violence, Maegor is a red flag himself, characters are ooc probably, MINORS DNI
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Rowan stood at the door of the sept, nervously picking at her fingers. So much had happened in such little time, and she was finding it difficult to manage one thing at a time, when she had to force herself to get out of bed at all. She had been a wreck, trying so hard to get Maegor out of her mind, but it proved impossible. However, since she would be joining Visenya in Dragonstone in the morning, she could not delay speaking with the septon. He was busy at the moment, and while she was normally the most patient person in the world, she could not bear being alone with her thoughts for this long.
She remembered when they were young, so very young, and he would tell her that he wanted to be King instead of Aenys. He never brought it up when they were older, perhaps because he knew if anyone heard, they’d accuse him of high treason and conspiring against the King, and Rowan had foolishly thought it was just a fleeting childhood wish. It was now so very clear that it was so much more than that, it was something that they were planning to make reality soon.
It all made sense to her now, all of Visenya’s so carefully worded letters, all the secret meetings, her disdain for Aenys; she had been preparing for this, paving the way for Maegor to take the throne, exile or not. And Maegor, with his obsession with getting an heir… of course… He wanted to secure his own line, not Aenys’, perhaps planning to disinherit his brother entirely, especially when word eventually reaches him about his title being passed to the young Prince Aegon.
She kept picking at her fingernails, when she thought about the timing of everything. Visenya was probably planning for his return soon, seeing as things were about to fall apart at any point, what better time for him to return with a huge show of power, with Balerion and Blackfyre at hand? She worried so much about what was going to happen within the family. The two brothers had left things off in such a horrible way, who’s to say how Aenys would react when he’d be asked, or commanded, to step down from the throne?
And what would happen when Maegor took the crown? Would everyone accept Alys as his wife and Queen consort, when there had been such a huge uproar about them marrying in the first place? Ceryse was his only lawful wife, the only one recognised by the realm and the faith, with Oldtown supporting her, and eventually her position as the one rightful Queen. Rowan felt incredibly comforted by that. She would make a proper Queen, and she trusted her entirely. 
But then, what about that heir he had been trying for for all this time? What if both Alys and Ceryse gave him a son each, what then? Would the line continue through the oldest, or would his first wife’s son take priority, the same way he wanted to have been within his own family? Would any son of Alys even get any support in comparison to a son of Ceryse? And this new woman, this Tyanna? She could only see disaster in the future, and that’s even without adding dragons into the mixture. 
She was driving herself mad with all these questions, but Visenya had promised her answers, and the ship to Dragonstone was leaving in the morning. She just had to breathe until then, but that was easier said than done. It was so difficult to see this all objectively, to just remove all her love for him from the situation. Every thought of him was filled with pain and heartbreak.
He wanted to prove himself, to show everyone that he was the one that should’ve been the heir, the one who should’ve accompanied their father to all his progresses, the one that should’ve been the apple of his eye. Maegor always had that scar, that pain, she knew it best of all. It all ran so much deeper than mere jealousy. It all led back to his father, to Visenya, to their family. 
Then something made her heart stop. She had spent so long thinking of how this would affect the family, the realm, her friends, that she had perhaps tried to ignore what should’ve been the most obvious thought of all. It dawned on her why both Maegor and Visenya had told her that it should’ve been her, the full weight of those words. He didn’t just mean it out of love, and a want to marry her and to have a family and future with her. He wanted to make her his Queen.
“Are you alright, Lady Rowan?” the soft, worried voice of septon Bram snapped her back to reality and it made her jump. For a moment, she must’ve looked like a frightened animal, judging by his face full of concern. She quickly gathered herself and attempted to give him a convincing smile. 
“Yes, yes! Forgive me, septon Bram, I’m afraid I haven’t gotten much sleep.” she said, a tad too quickly. He was not at all convinced, however. His eyes darted down to her hands, and she followed his gaze. Much to her horror, she had somehow managed to draw blood with all her nervous picking, nearly all of them red and puffy and bloody. She froze.
When she met his gaze again, she could only shake her head, silently pleading with him to not push the subject any further. He was good friends with her father, thus knowing her since her youth. He probably knew of this habit of hers, but never to this extent. Much to her relief, he gave her an understanding look, not asking anything of her.
“I, well, I came to speak with you about… I’m leaving for Dragonstone. I don’t know for how long…” she said, with much less confidence than normal. She was beyond apologetic, as this project they were working on was something she felt so strongly about, and did not want to abandon, but she could not stay. At least not for now. “I wish I could stay and continue to help directly, but I must join the Dowager Queen.” she explained further.
“I see… So, she’s left. Then is it true, what is said in the city?” he asked. He wasn’t angry with her, but perhaps disappointed by her departure. She could imagine it was difficult to find another direct contact with her house, seeing as her father was back home taking care of things, but septon Bram seemed to understand.
“What is said in the city?” she asked, worried about any rumours, especially with all she knew now. If anything nasty were to come up, it could easily grow to ruin people. She was fighting the urge to pick at her fingers again, but if she came across as any more stressed, it would make it far too obvious that something was horribly wrong within the Red Keep.
“That she left angry, because the King gave away her son’s title to his own son.” he said, and Rowan nearly sighed in relief. If that was all, then it was good. It was safe, it was alright. “I would hate to intrude, I understand the position you are in is a difficult one, but… are you alright, my lady?” he asked her softly, looking around to see if anyone was too close to hear.
“I’m fine.” she said, a bit too quickly. “Just, a bit on edge, with everything happening… you know. Such is life.” she added, trying to sound convincing, trying to prove to everyone around her that she was not just a few steps away from breaking down. 
“I mean… with your father gone, now she’s taking you to Dragonstone… Would you not feel safer at home? With your family?” he asked her carefully. She fought hard not to tear up at the mention of her family. She missed them all so much, Starfall, her home, her cousins, her aunt and uncle, and most of all, her father. “I cannot imagine how you feel, having to live around… them, with the way they try to make their practices part of our faith…” he added in a hushed, concerned whisper. Rowan shook her head lightly.
“The King has a good heart. I do not doubt that.” she managed to find her voice again. She could never picture anyone speaking badly about the Conqueror, not in such a public setting, but tensions were so high, and the wedding had only turned the people against Aenys, just as Rowan had tried to warn him. “He is a kind man, I know this, he wishes to do what’s best for everyone. It was not his plan to upset anyone.” she said, looking at the septon in front of her. He did not deny her words, he knew them to be true, but it still didn’t mean the King didn’t just start a great schism between the crown and faith.
“You see the best in people, you always have, since your father first brought you here. But the world is not a kind place, you know this, my Lady. What the King has done… I do not think it can be reversed.” septon Bram said, his eyes worried. “The city will not be safe. It would be safer for you to return home.” he sighed, handing her a clean piece of cloth, his eyes looking at her hands.
“I… thank you.” she replied, accepting the offer, gently holding onto the cloth, watching tiny bloodstains form. “I am fully aware of all the tensions rising, I understand what may come, no matter how much I wish it wouldn’t. My father has entrusted the Dowager Queen with my safety. He trusts her, and so do I.” she explained softly. “Dragonstone is safe. I do not know the length of my stay there, but I still wish to help, in whatever way I can. If there’s anything you need, write to me, do not hesitate, no matter how small you think the matter is.” 
“I appreciate your offer, my Lady. Know that your help is not at all unnoticed. Many in the city will miss your presence.” the septon said, with a small grateful smile on his lips. The man was one of the kindest people she had known, it warmed her heart that he cared about her wellbeing, and she wished that she wasn’t worrying him with all her nervousness.
“You are far too kind, septon Bram…” she mumbled, sad to leave. She hated going into uncertainty. She constantly yearned to go back to the simplicity of her youth, of their youth.
The ship to Dragonstone only needed three days to reach its destination, and it was ample time for Rowan to hide in her room and stay in bed for as long as humanly possible. She couldn’t bring herself to pretend to be fine, to not fall apart. Instead she chose to spend her time thinking of a reply to the two letters that were on her nightstand.
One was from Erin, and it was a sweet letter, full of her cousin’s wit. She had even let little Archie write her a few paragraphs, telling her all about the new toy his father had carved for him, and that she needed to come home and see for herself, because they wanted to carve a new Cyvasse set together. Rowan was moved to tears when she saw his sweet handwriting, noting all the small ways it had improved since she had last helped him with his lessons. 
She missed her family so much, she missed her home and all of them together. She missed the quiet forest and the misty mornings and the changing leaves and everything that made it home. She wanted to be there with them all, to pretend like everything was just fine and nothing was wrong, but she could not. Her place was at Visenya’s side. 
The second letter was from Finn, her eldest cousin. They were very close and they wrote to each other often, but this time, his tone was much more worried. He wrote to her about the match between him and Lady Florence Meadows, about how fond of her he had grown and his happiness with the match, as well as his dismay at the fact that the wedding date has not been set yet, all because of the instability of things. 
It made her happy to hear that he was fond of his lady, and she truly wished she was there when she had come to visit, to meet her and welcome her into the family properly. She was saddened to hear that they could not marry soon, all because of the chaos. That was when Finn’s tone shifted. 
“I worry about you, you know? I know you keep assuring us all that you’ll be safe, but I have a bad feeling that the upcoming events will make things even more difficult. I hate the idea that you’re so far from us, at a time when I know you need your family. I cannot imagine the difficult position you are in, I just wish she could grant you leave to come home, at least until things settle. Uncle Duncan is starting his journey back home as well. I imagine he would have already left Oldtown, by the time you’re reading this. I wish you well, Rowan, please be safe.”
His letter was written and sent before the royal wedding, and yet somehow Finn had managed to be so prophetic. She felt ashamed to be curled in bed, heartbroken, when her family worried about her and missed her so much. While she had only confided in Erin about Maegor, she had a feeling that she had told Finn something. He did not outright say it, but just by his tone, she knew he had to know something. Perhaps she was just so painfully obvious about her feelings this whole time. She had never doubted herself this much before.
And her father, her sweet father, whom she missed more than anything. She wished his journey home would be safe and easy. Travelling was not something safe, it seemed. People were already marking who were the ones too loyal to the Targaryens, she could only imagine what her father would be marked as. She wanted to write to him, to somehow curl up in his arms and hold him. She’d write to them all, but when she had a clear mind. She needed to breathe air.
As the ship reached its destination, and the servants came to carry all of the former Queen’s belongings inside, Rowan took a deep breath.
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Maegor gripped the letter in his shaking hands, feeling that familiar distress. His mother was furious with him and she had let it be known, without of course revealing too many details, for their privacy, in case anyone were to read them. Somehow, word had reached her in Westeros, and while he was not exactly hiding it from anyone, he hadn’t told her about Tyanna or her skills, wanting to wait a little bit, perhaps out of shame. 
What devastated him the most, was the few lines indicating how Rowan read the letter, how it crushed her all over again, and how she knew. It took everything in him not to fly to Dragonstone and explain himself, begging for her forgiveness. He couldn't bear it, the thought that he had once again made her cry. But what was he expecting? He knew that he’d return to Westeros soon, and he knew he’d see his sweet girl again, and he knew he’d tell her everything, was he not expecting her to be upset, to be hurt?
And now she knows. His Rowan now knew about their plans, and he wasn’t there to be the one to tell her. She was probably so hurt and confused, rethinking everything about the past. He’d write to her, he just had to. He couldn’t let her think that he was not constantly thinking of her, he couldn’t let her believe that he was just mindlessly fucking any woman that wandered his way. He had to tell both her and his mother. But first he had to have a word
When Tyanna walked into his room, she could feel his anger and it made her visibly uneasy. She wasn’t moving with that same confidence and did not appear so sure of herself, not like she normally did. She sensed danger. He did not acknowledge her, nor looked her way when she came closer. He still held that letter in his hands, his grip on it not loosening. 
“Word has reached back home. About you.” he stated sternly, slowly, before turning around to face her. She seemed to be confused by his anger. “Word about a bastard witch, trying to climb up in the world by finding herself in my bed.” he said, his grip on the folded letter tightening.
“I imagine your mother is not pleased.” she finally replied after a moment of silence. She spoke carefully, like she knew at any moment she could find herself in the jaws of a dragon. “I imagine it’s hard for her to accept that you could find help for your goals elsewhere. It is only natural for a mother to feel so.” she said with a small smile. 
He fought his anger and the urge to scowl even more than he already was, as she implied that he was angry because his mother was too smothering. As if he hadn’t watched his life fall apart while he could’ve stopped it. And now he was just making it worse, hurting the one person he loved above all. If Tyanna thought she could somehow drive a wedge between him and his mother, she was gravely mistaken.
“Spiders have many eyes.” she continued, after realising he had no intention of filling the silence to make her comfortable. “And they are everywhere, my Prince. They whisper to me.” she said slowly, walking toward him, swaying her hips suggestively, perhaps offering to ‘soothe’ him with her body. But it only drove him further into a rage.
“Do you think I have the patience for your little games? Do you think I find them entertaining? Hurry up and speak plainly, before I lose any patience I have left.” he snapped, his tone louder, angrier, more commanding. It made her flinch, ever so slightly. This was clearly not the outcome she had been hoping for.
“You break the rules often, do you not?” she asked, straightening her back. “You took Alys as your second wife, as is your Valyrian right, not caring who it angered. Now you took a mistress, something neither your father nor brother have done, why should you care if people know? It is my honour to join you in your bed, I am not ashamed.” she said, her voice now much more serious and less seductive.
“Why would you be? I’m the one who plucked you from that tavern and placed you into luxury.” he nearly spat out. It was what everyone thought of him, wasn’t it? That he didn’t care at all? But the truth was one he’d never share, all the sleepless nights, the constant guilt, the pain, all of it… He eyed her carefully.
“Of which I am ever so grateful for. Why would I ever be ashamed of that?” she replied, her tone now a bit defensive, as if the implication that she’d have any shame for her actions was somehow much worse than being called a bastard, a witch and a whore. To her, it seemed that it was. “I can help you with much more, you know?” she asked with raised brows.
“And yet, Alys is still not with child.” she said dryly, brows furrowed. She was great at making all these grand promises, and Alys seemed to be the one that fell for every single one of them, like the careless fool she was, but Maegor was running out of patience quickly. He knew this was hurting his Rowan to know, if it was all for nothing, for some ruse, he’d have this woman’s head on a spike. Tyanna did not hesitate to give another of her pleasing smiles.
“This matter needs time, my Prince. I must fully prepare her for you, to prepare her womb for your seed. Soon you’ll have your son, and as many spares as your heart desires.” she gave him a knowing look and his frown deepened.
“Promises you better deliver on. For your sake.” he said, finally releasing his grip on his mother’s letter. Rowan knew him better than anyone. She’d see his reasoning, his thinking behind all this mess, would she not? Even if she never found it in her heart to forgive him for the pain he’d caused her, she had to understand. He needed an heir, a safe, solid, line of succession to follow him and him alone. He had to see her, to fall to his knees and tell her how sorry he was for everything.
“Of course, my Prince. Or rather, should I call you my King already?” she asked carefully, her black eyes studying him carefully. Maegor stared her down, silently daring her to keep talking and see if she made it out of the room with her head still attached to her body. “Come on, your grace, it is only so obvious. With all the allies you have loyal to you, not the crown, your rush to get an heir, when you have no such pressures as a mere second son. It’s clear your plans are bigger than that.” she explained carefully, trying to sound relaxed in the face of danger.
“What do you want?” he asked dryly. Money was a given. She had been dancing for money in a tavern, and now she all but lived in the most luxurious bed money could buy in Pentos. He recognised something in her eyes, a hunger for more, for power. She’d never outright say it, no, she was too careful not to lose all she had gained these past months, but it was clear to him. She smiled.
“I only wish to serve the future King of Westeros, with whatever he may need help with.” she said innocently. He wanted to scoff, to ask her if she genuinely believed he’d fall for that, but his frown deepened. This so called witch spoke too greatly of all her skills. She had a reputation amongst Pentos, and he could very well use her skills to his advantage once he took the crown. 
“If you deliver on your promises, you shall be rewarded generously. If not, you shall wish you never crossed paths with me, do you understand?” he asked, slowly getting up, his towering form making her look up. She nearly stumbled, not expecting him to move, when he had been sitting nearly still as a statue for this whole conversation. But she nodded.
“Of course, your grace.” she excused herself, knowing when it was time for her to leave. She had better be going to work on her potions of fertility, as his time was running out. Sooner or later, his brother would fall apart, and he’d be forced to surrender the crown to him. Thus, he needed Alys to get pregnant as soon as possible.
He sat back down, staring at his mother’s angry words once more. He was too ashamed to write back, but he could not keep silent. Not when Rowan knew everything. He ran his hands through his hair. It was getting longer. He picked up the quill, forcing his own hand to write on the parchment. His mother urged him to reply as soon as possible.
“There is truth in what you’ve heard. This woman has skills to offer us, and she’s currently helping Alys perform her duties and has only joined us for her, not me. Soon, you’ll hear good news, I feel it.”
He gripped the quill even harder. He felt too ashamed to write anything to Rowan. How could he tell her that she was all he thought about during the act, that he spent every moment gripping onto tiny pieces of her to preserve his sanity, what consultation would that bring her? How could he even begin to explain things to her, when he couldn’t even address a letter to his darling, when he couldn’t even write the truth? 
He could see her pretty eyes full of tears, and it crushed him.
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taglist:@heartstalked@stupidocupido@discowizard88@slytherisstuff
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Suguru Geto I love you so much😭😭
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miss-bibbles · 1 year
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happy 3rd of december to all the bitches who don't have someone to give them a sweater
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fyclampboys · 2 years
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CLAMP fans be like “i was felling really depressed so I decided to re-read X and TB” like these aren’t the most depressive manga ever written.
Bitch you need therapy.
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