Admirer
r.q: Hello! I love your writing! And especially when you wrote the Aegon x f!reader where the reader is shy and it’s all just cute and stuff. could you write something similar with Aegon x f!reader where the reader is again shy but has a huge crush on him? Like she’s a high born lady and secretly writes him letters and leaves stuff in his chamber like for example his favorite wine she saw him drinking, flowers, fruit and other things. Aegon doesn’t know who it is from because the two never talked. But once happens that when she’s putting again some gift into his chamber he catches her. Then some smut if you would be comfortable writing it and eventually he marries her and everything? Because Aegon feels appreciated and loved finally from someone. I want our Aegon to feel some love. Thank you!
w.c: 1.2k
c.w: highborn!f!reader, angsty aegon, kinda corny aegon, proposal ?, no actual smut but heavily implied, DRABBLE !! not proofread
a.n: will prob expand on this in the future bc i love this idea a lot but for now i hope this drabble is good <33
‘you are the most beautiful man I've ever seen i look for you in every room i enter’
‘My affections know no bounds when it comes to you’
‘I hope you shall smile to my prince for your smile is the most glorious sight’
‘you make my heart race and soar’
It had been over a month since the beginning of him receiving gifts each day, each attached with a small love letter to him. He had no clue where these letters and gifts were coming from. when he brought it up to his mother she shook her head and said she had no idea along with questioning some of the handmaidens who also had no idea. it was like a ghost, everyday around the same time late at night he would enter his room and a new gift would be there.
He had thought he was being pranked, that the karma from his past jests was finally catching up to him and he was finally being punished. there was no way someone truly felt this way about him, nobody looked for him in any room, nobody enjoyed seeing him smile. they had to be pranking him and he was very determined to catch you, because you continued to jest with him knowing his favorite wine his favorite desserts for gods sake you had even left him some bandages one time after he had been walking around with a cut on his cheek from an accident.
He was now determined to catch you, to stop this foolish game, to stop himself from thinking it was even real, but he had no clue how to even catch you, you were like the wind and he had no bases to even start from.
He had spent yet another day running around searching for any sorts of signs about this mysterious person and came up empty handed once more. He had been back earlier than usual, when he pushed open the door to his room he stood frozen in shock as the girl in front of him squealed, dropping the plate of cranberry pie on the ground.
He couldn't recognize her, he could tell by her nicer dress however that she had to be from some important family, his eyes fell to the table in which you were standing next to and he noticed a small note. It had been you. the person who was leaving him all these gifts and notes.
“What is your name?” Shaking her head unable to lift her head to look at him, “i am so sorry my prince i-” “Your name?” You give him your name and he rolls it off his tongue easily, testing it out. He quickly closes the door and makes his way swiftly to stand next to you before grabbing you chin and forcing you to look up at him. “Who put you up to this?” A confused look finds its way to the girls face and she shakes her head, “nobody my prince?” the statements ends with a question, unsure of what he even means in the first place.
He takes a second to admire your name, your eyes, every detail of your skin and for a second he hopes its real and that a pretty girl like you truly liked him. “then why have you been leaving me gifts?” he expects you to finally admit it now, that you had simply been toying with him.
You had been helaenas lady in waiting for almost two months now and it had been some of the best times you’ve ever had. The princess is kind, the people are kind enough but what really is a blessing is getting to see Aegon almost everyday. Ever since you first arrived in the keep you had kept your eyes on him, you had thought he was the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen. Despite how much you wanted to you couldn't find the courage to go up to him and introduce yourself. Being a member of the great house tyrell you should have this great confidence about you but you never were able to be as outspoken as your siblings so if you really wanted to express yourself you decided you would have to get creative.
You figured out he was always out of his room and the maids weren't in his room during a very specific hour of the day and had just decided it would be easier to now have to face him to give him notes of your affections. but today the prince had come back to his room earlier than he usually did leaving you in this situation. You hadn't figured out what you were gonna say because you had never even really planned on telling him it was you.
“I just rather like you a lot my prince.”
Ever since then he had basically been glued to your side, followed you around everywhere and begged you to join him for meals. It was odd. you had gone from him never speaking to him to him wanting to see you every moment of the day.
One night in particular you had not seen him all day oddly enough and you don't expect to see him, until you’re sitting in front of your mirror preparing for bed when you hear knocking on your door.
You have no clue who could be coming here so late but when you open your door you barely get a look at him before he walks past you and heads straight to your bed laying face down on it.
“My prince?”
He groans and just rubs his further into your pillow. You walk over carefully and place your hand on his lower back. “Is something wrong?”
“missed you.” He hums as you begin to rub up and down his back, “i missed you too my prince.”
“They kept me from you all day.” He pauses for a moment and when he begins to speak his voice is laced with venom. “They want me to marry some bitch from the north.” You pause, your heart breaking into a million pieces as you think about him going off and marrying someone that's not you. “oh…”
He sits up, looking at you with cloudy eyes, you can now smell the wine on him, “I told them no. That i would marry nobody.” you look down at your lap as he moves closer to you, laying his head on your lap. “Nobody if it was not you”
“my prince?” You whisper at him as he presses his cheek against your naked thighs, your night gown having ridden upwards “your father thought it was a wonderful idea. my mother was so mad i thought she was going to smack me in front of them all.” Your breath gets caught in your throat as he grabs your hand and presses it against his cheek. “My prince?” “Call me Aegon my love.”
“what are you saying?” He looks up at you, grabbing you neck and pulling you down so your facing are right next to each other, “marry me.”
“Why?” Mirroring his own question that had been asked not too many moons ago, he looks at you with a wide grin as his eyes drift to your lips, “I guess i just rather like you my love.”
He presses his lips against yours and hums forcefully shoving his tongue in your mouth in a heated kiss. You fall back with him on top of you, his hands sliding to your thighs to push up your night gown to your stomach completely exposing you to him. His fingers lightly rub against your folds “Aegon,,” “Allow me to show you how much i love you.”
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what are the differences between marxism and anarchism?
one is based on the writings of Karl Marx and the other is based on the writings of Jean-Luc Anarquis
the respective ways in which they annoy me
it's difficult to get precise because anarchism is notably more expansive, which is sort of inherent to its nature. Marxism is thoroughly modern and often emphasizes its breakage with the previous radicalisms and socialisms that influenced it (while also being explicitly based on the models and preoccupations of a specific guy or set of guys). and although a lot of anarchism is to some extent also modern and similarly birthed out of 18th-century radicalism, it has a claim - much like communism outside of Marxism - to a longer, more extensive intellectual and political history. not to mention these two are, both being forms of socialism, kind of on a gradient (communization theory is a good contemporary example of a synthesis of the two). any attempt to kind of boil down either, and framing it as a binary in the first place, is going to miss a lot.
to bang my metapolitics drum: goals should be derived from values, and strategy and tactics are derived from both. I feel like you're probably familiar with the strategic/tactical disagreements among Marxists and anarchists (parties, cooperatives, state power, etc.) because they're...fairly obvious, so I'm more interested in emphasizing that first process.
there are (or at least can be) a number of overlapping values between Marxism and anarchism, even if the substantive content can vary. I think a notable breaking point is the central object of their ire. Marxism is interested in the rule of capital and its representatives, how this distorts and deranges social life, and more broadly how class conflict emerges from different methods of organizing social needs in ways that are destructive/irrational/restrictive on flourishing. I think anarchism's attention is towards processes of obedience and submission, how is it that people come to be positioned in hierarchical and coercive dynamics and either lose or surrender their personal and collective liberty, and how the state/political organization act as the chief source of this repression. I think there's obvious linkage here, and I wouldn't say they're mutually exclusive, but where you place your emphases matters and is going to lead you to different assessments of goals.
they primarily split on the question of what to do about political power, which I would suggest is related but non-identical to the break over what to do about political economy. assuming a revolutionary scenario (which not all anarchists do, see the individualist strain derived from thinkers like Stirner which I am somewhat influenced by, but this is the conventional tale of the Bakunin/Marx split): should political power, conceived as a weapon of class rule, be seized in some capacity before we seek its full abolition, or should this mode or conception of politics be abolished through the act of making revolution?
again, there's kind of a spectrum of answers here. I think how you flesh out the substantive content of specific values will inform where you land on this question, of exactly how to get to statelessness. fwiw, I think nobody has really cracked the problem of the state as a force with its own inertia and limitations for forming a desirable society vs. the demands of a defensive revolutionary position, but I think recognizing that it is a dilemma is more fruitful than just pretending it doesn't exist or like a clean answer has been handed down from on high by our predecessors.
and, to some extent, there's also a disparity (though not universal between the camps) on the matter of whether a post-capitalist society should have things like markets - not all anarchists are necessarily communists. not all Marxists are either but they usually at least pretend to be.
anyway, I think there's obviously a lot of other historical and ideological differences and tensions for a variety of reasons, but I think these are some of the most interesting threads right now. in conclusion,
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og! post stroke (pause) logan grabbing baby's hand instead of shiv's when he was confused in the bed and tried guiding it... 🤢
roman couldn't handle seeing his dad all "weird" alone, so he made baby go in there with him. then logan reaches for baby's hand and its kinda sweet for like a sec (not for roman) then it starts heading south (literally). roman wants to scream while seeing it (he kinda does). he immediately makes them run out of there and is in shock the entire ride home. although, he does make baby put her hand on his crotch for the entire car ride (maybe even the entire day) as if trying to prove something to himself. roman doesn't want baby near his dad for some time after that.
“What’s he doing?”
“Roman.”
Logan’s holding her hand and it’s making Roman sick, he can’t stop swallowing down. But his dad is being weird and temporarily fucked in the head and he’s holding your hand.
He gets why it should be sweet, in a way, but nobody should be holding your hand. Not even fucked in the head, stroked out men.
“…He’s not lucid. This is fucking-why did I bring you?”
It’s a sign his dad is still really sick and it’s terrifying. Also gross. Nobody else should be kind to you.
You smile. Then it heads down south. Literally and there’s a yell. A pitchy, but loud and clear voice coming through the room with an unintelligible sound.
You think Roman could’ve broken your wrist in the way he grabbed it away from Logan’s crotch.
“Fuck!”
“Roma-“
There’s a sickness coming into you, right at your chest - a fuzzy feeling sinking down, but it’s obvious this delirium has broken Roman so quickly.
Logan makes a noise, something confused and tired before he leans his head back.
“Is he orgasming? What the fuck!”
“Roman. It’s okay-“
Roman drags your before you can plead to his breakdown. He wipes away swear that’s not there, head shaky like he’s saying no.
And you can’t talk about it. How sick you feel. How sick Roman looks. But he squeezes your hand so tightly.
“When he comes back to work, you can fuck off with whatever Tom does. Just be useless for like…TBD.”
“Okay, Roman.”
He flinches at a touch to his hair, but he leans in. He presses your palm to his crotch.
Something, somehow, not sexual - but reassuring. He closes his eyes.
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