Something I Honestly Hate Is When I Am Looking For Books With A Plus-size Main Character, And When I

Something I honestly hate is when I am looking for books with a plus-size main character, and when I finally find a story that looks like it works, all the art for the "plus size" character is just a skinny woman. Like come fucking on, now.

Do people not know how to use the Dead Dove tag anymore? Like you can't just plaster Dead Dove on the top of a fic and then not add a single keep reading button on it. Its a little hard to avoid it properly and scroll away when your ten page long fic is blocking the entire tag.

I am so normal about this fic I promise.

Ch. 11 opening teaser-

"You reckon this is what it's like on Dragonstone?"

Aemond shrugged, his eyes transfixed on the sky. He and Rhae stood at the edge of the deck, listening to the dockhands clamor to prepare a ramp for the ship's passengers to exit on. Waiting for them below was Aegon and Helaena, their hair whipped and wild from their flight.

Driftmark's harbor was at the base of the island, the castle looming large on the rocky hills above. Sunfyre and Dreamfyre were roosting about halfway up, their long scaly necks pointed upwards, watching wearily as more dragons circled overhead.

Rhae recognized the sleek yellow frame of Syrax, soaring lazily amongst the clouds, as she was prone to. She kept a lofty distance, her cries faint and sorrowful, almost lost to the winds. Nearby was Seasmoke, sinking lower and lower towards the ocean in a spiraling silent stupor. They seemed to keep their distance from the sky's only other inhabitant—a crimson beast that streaked the ether in agitated fury.

"Meleys," Aemond whispered.

The Dragonkeepers had told Rhae once that the bond between riders and their mounts was unbreakable, so much so that they could feel each other's emotions. She hadn't believed them then, but now...

The Red Queen roared, her call a bitter agony.

Rhae thought of Ser Harwin, and of Laena Velaryon, and wondered whether the dragons were mourning too.

"I don't see Caraxes," she shivered, watching the clouds, fearfully wondering when he might slither into view. Viserys had once told her how Daemon's dragon came to be known as the Blood Wyrm, for his scarlet scales and deformities.

"More of a winged viper than a dragon," The King had chuckled. "Though, pray, don't tell Daemon I've said so, tis' his pride and joy, Caraxes..."

"No Vhagar either," Aemond grumbled—the boy also seemed to scan the horizon in anticipation. "You don't think they've left her in Essos, do you?"

"I doubt any could coax the Queen of All Dragons overseas if she did not wish it," Rhae reasoned. Aemond's brow furrowed, but before they could discuss any further, Ser Criston's voice cut through the commotion.

"Rhae! Aemond!"

The ramp secured, the passengers filed down to the dock. The King went first, aided by his attendants so that he would not topple into the sea.

"See him to his quarters," the Queen called after them. "His Grace should rest before the funeral."

It is finally time boys. The Stranger Things fanfic planning has begun.

God, Butch lesbians are so attractive like fuck how can one being be so attractive.

Getting into a Master's program which has strict work requirements just shoots you out of every joy the last part of college can give you.