romantic irony

NNT Ship Week, Day 1 - Favorite Romantic Scene (to Write):  The Hour, the Spot (MeliodasxGoddess!Elizabeth)

So, I wrote this scene months ago. Originally, it was for a fic I’m still writing I Will Never Be Your Friend. If you’ve read the story on AO3, just know that we’re not at this point yet…but we will be soon.

Anyway, out of all the romantic scenes I have written for all my fandoms, this one was my favorite. So, I hope you will enjoy. 

(Also, fair warning: If you read this closely, you will realize that I am basically intersecting a lot of what I’ve written into this. I’m sorry if it feels repetitive.)

Keep reading


Jaime and Brienne appreciation week, Day 7: Wild Card - My dream/headcanon ending for them

After war and winter comes a dream of spring, and of restoration and rebuilding. Lord Jaime Goldenhand, later known as Jaime the Just, takes seat in Harrenhal with his lady wife, the perfect knight, no one else but the one known as Brienne the Beauty. United by their chivalrous values, desire to be remembered as heroes, and compassion for the smallfolk of the Riverlands whose suffering they have witnessed in the wartime, they slowly bring peace and prosperity back to the war-torn region.

Generations later, the lords and ladies of House Goldenhand tell stories of how the first Lord and Lady Goldenhand were once prisoners in their future home, how he won her undying love by rescuing her from a giant bear on the very courtyard of the castle, and how they began the reconstruction of Harren the Black’s magnificent stronghold, now again the pride of the Riverlands as it was once before.

The Irony of Winter

These days the sun feels more distant
scientists ascertain it is this time of year
while poets see within each falling leaf
an orange yellow tie died mother’s tear

Spring’s arrival signals life and renewal 
winter’s icy touch feels heavy with death
ironically though her grip holds us close
sharing I love you sighs in every breath

There’s a certain sadness to the season
her days ever shorter her nights colder
yet blankets and bed grow more inviting
your arms are warmer and love is bolder