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sandandglass

Donald Trump gets attacked by an eagle.

This eagle truly represents America. What a majestic symbol.

lukcskywalkcrs

It’s only fitting that this gets reblogged today

rinokami

This is the only eagle that deserves reblogging on the 4th

ilinit

Happy 4th of July Americans. Be like this eagle. Attack fascists.

tiredandoptimistic

Finally posting this image I made after @glass-coffin-will-graham called @jaybirdscoffee a Spracist last week. I think it speaks for itself.

tiredandoptimistic

Finally posting this image I made after @glass-coffin-will-graham called @jaybirdscoffee a Spracist last week. I think it speaks for itself.

Snippet of first draft of chapter 1 of my modern Au Davron fan fiction.

Chapter One

The stone walls stood as they had for more than two centuries, simple, sturdy, and strong. Mined from the hills and the valleys, they rose in testament to man’s inherent desire to leave his mark, to build and create.

Over those two centuries man married the stone with brick, with wood and glass, enlarging, transforming, enhancing to suit the needs, the times, the whims. Throughout, the building on the crossroads watched as the settlement became a town, as more buildings sprang up.

The dirt road became asphalt; horse and carriage gave way to cars. Fashions flickered by in the blink of an eye. Still it stood, rising on its corner of The Square, an enduring landmark in the cycle of change.

It knew war, heard the echo of gunfire, the cries of the wounded, the prayers of the fearful. It knew blood and tears, joy and fury. Birth and death.

It thrived in good times, endured the hard times. It changed hands and purpose, yet the stone walls stood.

In time, the wood of its graceful double porches began to sag. Glass broke; mortar cracked and crumbled. Some who stopped at the light on the town square might glance over to see pigeons flutter in and out of broken windows and wonder what the old building had been in its day. Then the light turned green, and they drove on.

Davos knew.

He stood on the opposite corner of The Square, thumbs tucked into the pockets of his jeans. Thick with summer, the air held still. With the road empty, he could have crossed Main Street against the light, but he continued to wait. Opaque blue tarps draped the building from roof to street level, curtaining the front of the building. Over the winter it had served to hold the heat in for the crew. Now it helped block the beat of the sun—and the view.

But he knew—how it looked at that moment, and how it would look when the rehab was complete. After all, he’d designed it—he, his two cousins, his uncle. But the blueprints bore his name as architect, his primary function as a partner in Blackwood Family Contractors.

He crossed over, his tennis shoes nearly silent on the road in the breathless hush of three a.m. He walked under the scaffolding, along the side of the building, down St. Paul, pleased to see in the glow of the streetlight how well the stone and brick had cleaned up.

It looked old—it was old, he thought, and that was part of its beauty and appeal. But now, for the first time in his memory, it looked tended.

He rounded the back, walked over the sunbaked dirt, through the construction rubble scattered over what would be a courtyard. Here the porches that spanned both the second and third stories ran straight and true. Custom-made pickets—designed to replicate those from old photographs of the building, and the remnants found during excavation—hung freshly primed and drying on a length of wire.

He knew his eldest cousin, Benjicot, in his role as head contractor, had the rails and pickets scheduled for install.

He knew because Elinor, the middle of the three Blackwood cousins, plagued them all over schedules, calendars, projections, and ledgers—and kept Davos informed of every nail hammered.

Whether he wanted to be or not.

In this case, he supposed as he dug out his key, he wanted to be—usually. The old hotel had become a family obsession.

It had him by the throat, he admitted as he opened the unfinished and temporary door to what would be The Lobby. And by the heart—and hell, it had him by the balls. No other project they’d ever worked on had ever gotten its hooks in him, in all of them, like this. He suspected none ever would again.

He hit the switch, and the work light dangling from the ceiling flashed on to illuminate bare concrete floors, roughed-in walls, tools, tarps, material.

It smelled of wood and concrete dust and, faintly, of the grilled onions someone must have ordered for lunch.

He’d do a more thorough inspection of the first and second floors in the morning when he had better light. Stupid to have come over at this hour anyway, when he couldn’t really see crap, and was dog tired. But he couldn’t resist it.

By the balls, he thought again, passing under a wide archway, its edges of stone still rough and exposed. Then, flipping on his flashlight, he headed toward the front and the work steps that led up.

There was something about the place in the middle of the night, when the noise of nail guns, saws, radios, and voices ended, and the shadows took over. Something not altogether quiet, not altogether still. Something that brushed fingers over the back of his neck.

Something else he couldn’t resist.

He swept his light around the second floor, noted the brown-bag backing on the walls. As always, Elinor’s report had been accurate. Benji and his crew had the insulation completed on this level.

Though he’d intended to go straight up, he roamed here with a grin spreading over his sharply boned face, the pleasure of it lighting eyes the color of blue-green shadows.

“Coming along,” he said into the silence in a voice gravelly from lack of sleep.

He moved through the dark, following his beam of light, a tall man with narrow hips, the long Blackwood legs, and the waving mass of black hair with hints of brown that came down from the Le Fey—his maternal side.

He had to remind himself that if he kept poking around he’d have to get up before he got to bed, so he climbed up to the third floor.

“Now that’s what I’m talking about.” Pure delight scattered thoughts of sleep as he traced a finger down the taped seam of freshly hung drywall.

He played his light over the holes cut out for electric, moved into what would be the innkeeper’s apartment, and noted the same for plumbing in the kitchen and bath. He spent more time wandering through what would be their most elaborate suite, nodding approval at the floating wall dividing the generous space in the bath.

“You’re a frigging genius, Fiery Shit. Now, for God’s sake, go home.”

But giddy with fatigue and anticipation, he took one more good look before he made his way down the steps.

He heard it as he reached the second floor. A kind of humming—and distinctly female. As the sound reached him, so did the scent. Honeysuckle, sweet and wild and ripe with summer.

His belly did a little dance, but he held the flashlight steady as he swept it down the hall into unfinished guest rooms. He shook his head as both sound and scent drifted away.

“I know you’re here.” He spoke clearly, and his voice echoed back to him. “And I guess you’ve been here for a while. We’re bringing her back, and then some. She deserves it. I hope to hell you like it when she’s done because, well, that’s the way it’s going to be.”

He waited a minute or two, fanciful enough—or tired enough—to imagine whoever, or whatever, inhabited the place settled on a wait-and-see mode.

“Anyway.” He shrugged. “We’re giving her the best we’ve got, and we’re pretty damn good.”

He walked down, noted the work light no longer shone. Davos turned it on again, switched it back off with another shrug. It wouldn’t be the first time the current resident had messed with one of them.

“Good night,” he called out, then locked up.

This time he didn’t wait for the light, but crossed diagonally. Vesta Pizzeria and Family Restaurant spread over another corner of The Square, with his apartment and office above. He walked down the sloping sidewalk to the back parking lot, grabbed his bag from the cab of his truck. Deciding he’d murder anyone who called him before eight a.m., Davos unlocked the stairwell, then climbed past the restaurant level to his door.

He didn’t bother with the light, but moved by memory and the backwash of streetlights through the apartment. He stripped by the bed, letting the clothes drop.

He flopped facedown on the mattress, and fell asleep thinking of honeysuckle.

#hotd #davron #davos blackwood #aeron bracken #house bracken #house blackwood #nora roberts #nora roberts fanfic

Would you be interested in reading a Davron fanfic where Aeron is single-handedly raising his three orphaned stepbrothers and owns a bookstore and Davos owns a construction and remodeling company with his cousins, Aunt, and uncle.

#davron #davos x aeron #hotd #hotd modern au #house bracken #house blackwood #davos blackwood #aeron bracken #fanfic #nora roberts #nora roberts fanfic

shipperoofthousandsofships

#03 - Jack x Jane Banks

Here we have an almost canon ship! I can't define the other two this way because we can't know if they were write to be a couple, but I think these two were, of course! So:

Jack the lamplighter (Lin-Manuel Miranda) and Jane Banks (Emily Mortimer) from Mary Poppins Returns.

Jane is an indipendent woman and has a strong attitude, but she still is nice and happy. Jack is dreamy, as we can see since the beginning, and he believes in Mary Poppins, something that not all do. Jane, on the other hand, thinks that she will never find love, that "her train has passed"...

The two haven't met for years, as Jack explains to Mary Poppins, and when they start bumping into each other, the screen is like lightned up with their smiles, their cuteness and their awkard ways to interact. Every time I watch the film, when the two of them are in the same frame I start to smile and I can't help myself, but shipping them❤

And at the end, when they have to choose the baloon that can take them up, Jack chooses Jane's and that's the right one for her! This makes them so connected, on the same wave, like soulmates and that's wonderful!

I have to admit that there aren't so many interaction between the two during the movie, but I really think that their relationship is so pure and full of affection, not just love, that it has to be true.

smllscallywag

reblog if the first musical you listened to was not Hamilton

Aemma Arryn

Age: 53

Gender: Female

Height: 5′9

Married to: Davos Dayne

Children: Rhaenyra Targaryen, Karliene Targaryen, Sansa Targaryen, Bailey Targaryen, Rhaella Targaryen

Step-Children: Aegon Targaryen, Helaena Targaryen, Aemond Targaryen, Daeron Targaryen

Nieces/Nephews: Gaemon Targaryen, Baela Targaryen, Rhaena Targaryen

Grand-Children from Rhaenyra: Jacaerys Velaryon, Lucerys Velaryon, Joffrey Velaryon, Aegon Targaryen, Baelon Targaryen, Viserys Targaryen, Visenya Targaryen, Maenys Targaryen, Meloys Targaryen, Aemma Targaryen, Maire Targaryen, Katherine Targaryen, Serina Targaryen, Jaxus Targaryen, Reayx Targaryen, Meallán Targaryen, Daenerys Targaryen

Grand-Children from Karliene: Jon Targaryen, Arwen Targaryen, Ashley Targaryen

Grand-Children from Bailey: Alysanne Targaryen, Aelyx Targaryen

Step Grand-Children: Jaehaerys Targaryen, Jaehaera Targaryen

Hair color: Silver

Eye color: Azure (Blue)

Titles: The Falcon Knight, The Queen of the Valyrian Freehold

Dragon: Gaelithox

#aemma arryn #aemma arryn lives #gaelithox #hotd #rhaenyra targaryen

Dragon Theory

So, I have a theory. Well, its more of a question.

If someone with split personality disorder claimed a dragon. Would the dragon remain loyal to the rider or would it go rouge because of the rider’s different personalities?

#hotd #dragons #asoiaf

Do You Believe in the Paranormal (Pt. 2)

Rhaenyra was sleeping in her bed, alone because Daemon was away on business, when the door to her bed chamber burst open. She shot up in bed, fully awake and grabbed the dagger from under her pillow. She let her hand fall to the bed when she saw her half-brother standing there.

“Aegon, what are you doing here?” She demanded.

“I need to talk to you.” He said.

“That is not what I asked. I asked what you are doing here, on Dragonstone?” She said.

“Not important, what is important is me talking to you.” Aegon answered.

Rhaenyra sighed, “About what?”

Aegon’s face went pale, “I-”

Rhaenyra raises a brow, waiting, “Well, get on with it.”

“I-I-” Aegon looked like he was going to have a mental breakdown, “It’s about the succession!”

Rhaenyra froze, staring at her half-brother. The succession? But that was already decided, she was the heir to the Iron Throne. Why would Aegon need to talk about the succession?

“The succession? Aegon we both know that the succession is settled.”

Aegon looked at her and sighed, defeated, “I know, it’s just-” He walked over to her bed and sat down, “There’s something else about it, something I just found out tonight.”

Rhaenyra could see the terror in his eyes and that he was shaking. She placed a hand on his, “What is it, Aegon, tell me.” She gently pushed.

“As you know, my mother is still saying that I’m the true heir. Well, tonight I was woken up by a presence in my chambers. It was a woman staring at me then she just disappeared in a cloud of red smoke.” Aegon looked down at the floor, “I flew here, to Dragonstone, to find out who she was. When I got here, Jace found me and I told him everything. He took me to the temple of the Fourteen Flames where we spoke with Lord Vhagar who told us that the woman I saw was the goddess, Iraxes, and that her presence was not a good one.”

Rhaenyra stared at her half-brother. The goddess Iraxes, she’s never heard of her before.

“Then what happened?”

“Lord Vhagar spent us to Lady Viserion,” Aegon started to twist the ring on his finger, “She told us our future. She said that when father dies, mother will usurp the throne and put me on it, starting a civil war between you and me, killing almost every Targaryen and almost every dragon. I don’t want that to happen, so I’m telling you in hopes that I can change that fate.”

Rhaenyra blinked at Aegon for a moment, “What?”

Aegon nodded his head, “I get it if you don’t believe me.”

“No I don’t believe you,” She said, “On the part that it will be Alicent that usurps the throne. It will be Otto Hightower.”

Aegon looked at Rhaenyra shocked, “Wait! So you believe me?”

“Yes, I do” Rhaenyra said, nodding her head.

“But what I need to understand is why you are telling me.” She said.

Aegon looked at his lap, “Because you’re my older sister and the heir to the throne and you should know.”

Rhaenyra shook her head, “No, I don’t think that’s it, there’s more to it than that.”

“Because you’re my sister and I don’t want you to hate me and think I’m weak.” He said, looking as if he was going to cry.

Rhaenyra frowned. Is that what her brother really thought about her? What has Alicent been filling his head with? She gently gripped his shoulder and had him look at her, “I don’t hate you and I don’t think you’re weak.”

“Really?” Aegon asked.

Rhaenyra nodded, “Can I tell you a story?”

Aegon nodded.

“It is said that long ago, when Old Valyria was nearing its end. That there was a war. Now the war was between two siblings, who very much like us, had the same father, but a different mother. They were brother and sister and they were both dragonlords, said to be one of the very first dragonlords. The sister, who was the oldest, was called Daenora and her dragon was a large, beautiful white and black she-dragon named Silverfyre,” Rhaenyra pulled the blankets over Aegon as she continued, “The bother, who was the younger, was called Valerion and his dragon was a large creme and pale red-orange he-dragon called Valíria.”

“When Daenora was just a little girl, her father, before he remarried, named her his heir. But then he remarried and had four children with his second wife. Valerion was the oldest and his mother pushed his father to name him his heir instead of his daughter Daenora, but he refused and Valerion grew bitter over his sister.”

“They sound like you and me.” Aegon said.

“Yes they do. But heres the kicker, when they were young, Daenora and Valerion were the best of friends, but as time went on they began to drift apart until the love they had for one another was replaced by cold, dark hatred for one another. When their father died, Valerion took their father’s lands and titles away from Daenora and she was furious.”

“And to make the usurpation even worse, Daenora was 7 moons pregnant when it happened. When Daenora found out what her brother had done she went into a black fury and the babe within her became angry as well. For three days the screams of Daenora was heard though the castle as she went through a grueling labor. When the babe was born, it was dead and a girl. Darnora swore vengeance on Valerion saying that he took her land, her titles, and that he killed her little girl.”

Aegon looked shocked, “That sounds awful!”

Rhaenyra nodded, “It was and the war that followed was even worse. So many people and dragons died fighting one another, including Valerion and Daenora’s siblings. The war went on for half a year, until one fateful day. Valerion and Valíria met Daenora and Silverfyre over one of the fourteen volcanos of Valyria. They say that when Daenora saw Valerion she called him a thief and a traitor. To which Valerion called her a whore and a false lord. Then it went quiet, until Valíria and Silverfyre let out roars so loud the ground shock and jumped into the air.”

“They say the fight that followed by a horrifying one. Each dragon tore and bit the other, ripping chunks of flesh and wing off of each other. No one knew who had the upper hand, until Valíria snapped his jaws around Silverfyre’s neck and his claws tore through her belly. Silverfyre managed to bite Valíria’s left wing and her claws managed to rip off the right. Both dragons fell from the sky and crashed to the ground, alive.”

Aegon gasped and leaned closer.

“But sadly, Silverfyre didn’t live long. After making sure her rider wasn’t hurt the mighty she-dragon took her last breath and died. It was said that Daenora, mad with grief, screaming and roared for her dragon just as Valerion drove his sword through her stomach.” Rhaenyra poked her finger against Aegon’s stomach as she spoke, “With her dying breath, Daenora demanded that her brother name his first-born daughter after her beloved Silverfyre, just as she had named her first-born son Valarr after Valíria and then she died just like her dragon. With that demand, Valerion remembered the friendship his sister and him had shared. It is said that he cried and sat vigil for his sister and her dragon all through the night and in the morning, Valíria took his last breath and died. From that day forth, Valerion was completely swallowed in grief over the friendship of his sister and him and for their dragons, but he did do as his sister demanded and named his first-born daughter Saera after Silverfyre.”

Aegon looked at Rhaenyra, “That is an awful story, you are really bad at story-telling.”

Rhaenyra laughed, “Yes, it is an awful story, but there is meaning behind. That the love you have for your sibling never truly dies.”

Aegon smiled, “I think i get want you’re trying to say. That no matter what happens I’m still your brother and you love me either way.”

“Exactly,” Rhaenyra said smiling.

Later when Aegon met up with Jacaerys before leaving, Jacaerys pulled him aside and said, “To answer you’re question from earlier, yes, I do believe in the paranormal.”

Aegon smiled and said, “Yeah, I know.”

House of the Dragon Mood Boards #49

King Viserys I Targaryen

“The Young King” & “King of the Andels, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm.”

Wielder of the Valyrian Steel Sword “Rhindon”

Last Rider of Balerion

“The Black Dread”

Author’s Note: This is Viserys in my Fan-fic, yes he is dead. Please enjoy and feel free to ask any questions. Love y’all ;)

#balerion the black dread #viserys i targaryen #hotd

House of the Dragon Mood Boards #48

Queen Alicent Hightower

“Your Grace”, “My Lady Queen”, “My Lady”, “The Dowager Queen Alicent”

Wife of Viserys I and Mother of Aegon II

Dowager Queen of the seven kingdoms of westeros

Author’s Note: This is Alicent in my Fan-fic. Please enjoy and feel free to ask any questions. Love y’all ;)

#oldtown #alicent hightower #hotd

House of the Dragon Mood Boards #47

Ser Otto Hightower

“The Lord Hand” & “The Hand of the King”

Wielder of the sword “Green Flame” and dagger “Order”

Is the Hand of the King of Aegon II & Viserys I

Author’s Note: This is Otto in. my Fan-fic. Please enjoy and feel free to ask any questions. Love y’all ;)

#hand of the king #otto hightower #hotd

House of the Dragon Mood Boards #46

Lord Corlys Velaryon

“The Sea Snake”

Wielder of the Valyrian Steel Axe “Storm King”

Commander of the Velaryon Fleet

Author’s Note: This is Corlys in my Fan-fic. Please enjoy and feel free to ask any questions. Love y’all ;)

#house velaryon #corlys velaryon #hotd

House of the Dragon Mood Boards #45

Ser Laenor Velaryon

“Lay”

Wielder of the Valyrian Steel Sword “Butterfly”

Rider of Seasmoke

“The Sea’s Breath”

Author’s Note: This is Laenor and Seasmoke in my Fan-fic, yes Laenor is alive because I say so. Please enjoy and feel free to ask any questions. Love y’all ;)

#seasmoke #laenor velaryon #hotd