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I’m laying on the floor while my husband paints my office and it’s little acts like this that just make me 😍

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Harry for Saturday Night Live 2019.

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I’m not going to lie, a few songs for the tortured poets has sparked some great ideas 😉

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For old times sake is actually such a heartbreaking and beautiful sentiment. Like, let’s do it for the love that used to be here. It is reason enough.

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㋡🥀

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on my knees

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"is this too cliche?" who cares? bro, write what you have fun writing. stuff your manuscript full of your favourite tropes. the same themes you love. all inspired by things you grew up with. do it all. go off. load. it. up. be freeeee

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THAT SNEAKY WAS SO GOOD!

I came up with it last night and was like “gotta post” but it isn’t Anna and Harry. That little snippet is actually willow

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I am getting closer and closer to where I want the story of her majesty to be and I’m officially excited about it

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Every writer has two sides:

"I love my characters, they are my children and will protect them with my life"

"I wanna make them suffer so fucking much"

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Her majesty the re-write || Snippet

I watched my husband grace the dungeons, his warm coat wrapped around his body. I stayed in the corner, my back against the cold stones. “Came to say your last goodbyes or take the last of my dignity?” I questioned with despair dripping from my lips. Nothing he says will ever be honorable. He took his family's side over his wife—the one he claimed to love and cherish. Wedding vows meant nothing to him. “You’re guilty as sin,” I muttered, shaking my head and looking away from his gaze.

"Darling," my husband began, his voice trembling slightly, "I didn't have a choice. It was either me or you."

"So you chose yourself, as any coward would," I replied sharply, my voice echoing against the cold stone walls.

“Honey—”

“Don't,” I cut him off, “I am not your honey, your words drip nothing but blood and despair,” my words as callous as the air. “I have to give you and your family a standing ovation, this was planned relatively well,” I smiled, finally looking up at the man who broke every vow he made to me when we got married.

“But you overlooked one small detail,” I said, my voice steady despite the chill seeping into my bones.

“And what’s that, darling?” He asked, his voice laced with a hint of curiosity and perhaps fear.

“You assumed you had silenced every member of my family, either through death or by other means, ensuring no one remained to challenge your family's ascent, right?” I continued, watching his expression change.

“This isn’t what I wanted, darling,” he confessed, his eyes avoiding mine. “There was too much at stake for me not to play along.”

“Everyone has their price,” I replied with a shrug, feeling the weight of betrayal. “Was it worth it? Feigning love to usurp my crown? Does it bolster your pride to know you deceitfully climbed your way to power?”

“I never pretended. I do love you,” he insisted, his voice strained.

“And yet, here I was, left to die? While you paraded around in my palace?” I countered, my voice rising slightly with a mix of sorrow and anger.

My husband grew quiet, his eyes for the first time showing emotion. He may not have wanted to participate and he may have his twisted reasoning for selling me out and not taking my side, but it doesn’t revise the bitterness. “Your family can find solace in enjoying my crown, but if you let them keep me down here, you’re more of a coward than I ever thought you were. We aren’t the last heirs to the throne anymore.”

“What do you mean? They have silenced everyone, your family has finally stepped down. It is over.”

“Not everyone,” I smiled, tucking strands of wind-tossed hair behind my ear. “There’s another heir none of you considered.”

His face fell into confusion. “I don’t understand. Who?”

Reaching a hand gently to my stomach, my smile widened, filled with a bitter-sweet triumph. “You didn’t think to check if I was carrying an heir, did you?” His eyes widened as realization dawned, and the implications of my words settled in between us like the cold, heavy air of the dungeon.

"Surprise, honey," my voice dripped with both anguish and a hint of vindictive satisfaction. The taste of revenge tinged my words. "It's not over yet—they haven't won completely."

My husband stood frozen, his face blanching as the weight of my words hit him. Silence enveloped the chamber, thick and discernible, as he struggled to process the revelation. He glanced down at my hand resting gently on my stomach, his eyes wide with shock and disbelief. For a moment, he was the picture of a man whose carefully laid plans had crumbled around him.

The realization that his family's scheme hadn't accounted for every contingency—that an unborn heir could now threaten their grip on power—seemed to rock him to his core. His lips parted as if to speak, but no words came; he simply stared, his usual composure shattered. In that silence, the balance of power subtly shifted, the future once so certain for him now clouded with uncertainty. This child, a new heir, was a wildcard that could unravel everything his family had so meticulously planned.

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