#amazing! and they made a great roast from it for us

[peachespits]

i’m SO curious about the different things people around the world drink and eat and keep in the fridge to make meals with so could you please reblog this with photos of the inside of your fridge and freezer

[icallhimjoey]

Reinvent Love

♥ ♥          Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader 

Summary: You and Joe are treading new waters. You’re no longer flatmates, but still close. More than friends, but nothing defined. Nothing labeled. Determined to not lose what you have, though. But, can you?

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, language, adult themes, fluff, season 3 of my flatmate!joe

Author’s note: uh-oh here we GO! the girls voted and the girls won, so here we are! the no-longer-flatmates-flatmate fic - you don’t need to have read define close or explain us, but it’ll obviously give you backstory, which might help!

Wordcount: 3.2K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five There was something living inside Joe’s chest.

It was only small, but definitely there. Ugly. Green. Growing. With potential to do real harm. It crawled around and scoped him out, exploring his heart from all different angles, carefully tasting it.

It hadn’t bitten him yet, but Joe knew if he lost sight of it – if he stopped trying to control it – that eventually, it would. And it would hurt. It didn’t exactly feel great now, but once it’d sink its teeth in, Joe knew he’d be done for.

He remembered when it still good. Still nice. Warm. And soft. And joyous, all full of love.

It used to be kind and sweet and would make him smile until his cheeks were quite literally cramping.

But it’d changed. It’d turned bad.

He wished he could’ve seen it coming.

It was a good thing that he found he was able to easily control it with rational thought. Problem was that rational thought had the habit of abandoning him once it got dark outside and he was alone in his flat.

His new flat.

Where everything was his.

Where everything got put in places that he chose. All his things were where he wanted them, all catering towards his routine. Which was why a basket of underwear made it into a bathroom cupboard, and why a shelf got put up near the balcony door, so he had a place to keep his cigarettes and a lighter. Gone were the days of rummaging through coat pockets ‘til he found what he was looking for.

It was sort of great, Joe wasn’t going to lie, living on his own.

It didn’t look quite as nice, not quite as homey, but Joe was sure he’d soon learn what the place was missing. He didn’t worry about it. There were more important things to worry about. Like, how quick dust built up into bunnies underneath the sofa and how every time he’d open his front door, it’d waft out from underneath, only to settle in the middle of the room for everyone to see. Or how somehow he panicked so much about keeping his plants alive that he was systematically overwatering all of them.

Idiot.

It was fine.

Rational thinking.

It was all fine.

Things were different now.

Good different.

“Oh, you shouldn’t have!” Joe joked as he let you in, pointing out the large bouquet of flowers in your hands.

His place already smellt amazing. Joe made a good roast, and had one going now, things in the oven, bubbling and simmering away.

“If I never did things I shouldn’t do, life would be very boring,” you said, laying the colourful bunch down on his island.

“Did... wait, did you actually get those for me?”

“Have you got a vase?” you were already opening cabinet doors. “You don’t, do you?”

When you didn’t get a reply, you turned to see Joe stare at the flowers. He looked a little dumbfounded.

“Joe?”

“Hmm?” he looked up at you and blinked a few times. “Oh, um...” he squeezed his eyes shut a second, trying to gather his thoughts.

Took too long, you thought.

“A vase?” you repeated, trying very hard to keep a straight face, to not let the smallest inkling of a smile slip through.

“Sorry, I don’t... I don’t think I’ve got a vase.”

Why the fuck would he own a vase, Joe thought.

“I’ll get you one as a housewarming gift,” you found a pitcher. “This’ll do for now.”

There was evidence on the counter of what Joe had been in the middle of, cutting veggies, preparing the gravy. But as you filled the pitcher with water, Joe still kind of hovered in the same spot in silence. Looked at the flowers that you’d brought in and felt silly for how those made him feel.

When you placed the pitcher in the middle of the island and reached for the bouquet, you broke his trance, and Joe softly laughed at himself.

“This is... my God, this is so sweet? I don’t think I’ve ever gotten flowers before.”

“Well,” you smiled back, about to throw stones into your own windows. “I didn’t get them for you.”

“Oh?” Joe immediately felt embarrassed. Mortified. Felt the skin of his neck flush with heat.

“I got them for your flat.”

Got him.

Joe let out the breath he was holding in defeat, dropping his head and smiling. Scoffed softly at himself because you were joking, and he was an idiot.

“You know, give it some colour. Give me something nice to look at when I’m here.” you plopped the flowers into the pitcher and didn’t get the chance to make it look nice, to arrange it a little, because before you could, you got picked up by the waist and shaken about. You shriek-laughed a loud, “No!”

“Something nice to look at?” Joe pressed his face into your cheek as you squealed through your giggles.

“Am I not nice to look at, huh?” Joe squeezed extra tight before he put you down, turning you in his arms and keeping you real close.

“You’re nice to look at,” you said sweetly, still grinning widely, nose nudging up at his. “If I could put you in a vase and arrange you all nice, I would.”

Joe snorted, and you felt it on your face.

“Hmm. You’re funny.”

You got kissed by soft lips that almost felt shy to kiss you.

“Don’t get me a vase.”

And then you got kissed a little harder. Bit more firm.

“I’ll get my own.”

“No,” you objected, speaking right into his mouth. “You’ll get a stupid one with like, frosted writing on, or something. Live, love, laugh.”

You felt Joe’s smile as he kissed you harder, both arms squeezing as they wrapped around your waist tighter. You sighed into Joe’s affection and took great comfort in the fact that you were alone. You were outside of your flat, which was still wild in your opinion, but at least you were alone.

Alone was good.

Joe’d gotten into the habit of showing affection when you were around others, around strangers, and you didn’t think you were ever going to get used to it.

The first time Joe reached to hold your hand, you’d nearly had a panic attack.

It wasn’t very cold, but the wind was cutting. Hurt your forehead as you walked and made you hunch as you pulled up your shoulders to shield yourself as best you could. Joe’s hand finding yours was a welcome warmth for your cold fingers, but it still made you fall silent as you tensed up.

Joe just held on for a few steps, and looked at you. You could see him stare from your peripheral, could feel the burn of it high up in your cheeks, and tried your best to ignore it.

“You can relax.” Joe humorously said, speaking softly and leaning in a little to make sure you could hear him.

“I am relaxed.” You immediately argued, because holding hands with Joe shouldn’t be weird. It should actually be normal. You tangled up with your full bodies more days than you didn’t when you shared a flat. If anything, Joe’s touches were exactly what turned you lax, all floppy and boneless.

“S’just cold.”

“Hmm,” Joe sounded unsure, very obviously not believing you, and squeezed your fingers a couple of times. When you didn’t smile, Joe let his own drop too, and asked if you were okay.

“Fine.” You reassured, growing a little defensive. If Joe could just stop talking about it, that’d be great.

“Should I– do you want me to let go?”

“No, it’s okay.” You said, sounding a little squeaky, but you doubled down with a squeeze of your own.

Joe took it, accepted it, albeit a little unsure if maybe he’d made the wrong move here. But you’d walked along, and you held hands, and when you fell into random conversation again, holding your hand became something Joe stopped thinking about. He absentmindedly rubbed his thumb along yours, and at one point used his grasp to pull you in front of him when you had to share a narrow bit of pavement with oncomers.

You weren’t like Joe.

Not for a single second had you been able to be as casual about it as Joe had been.

You focussed on your hand the whole while you walked, and couldn’t help but check to see if others were looking at it. If strangers that passed you looked down at your hands. To check if they could see. If they somehow knew that you’d never done this before.

You had.

But not like this. Not outside. Not in public.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to hold Joe’s hand, but there was something about this new phase you were in, where Joe walked over to yours to pick you up to go out for dinner together. Where he had to ring the doorbell and ask if he could quickly come up to use the toilet before you left. Where he pretended he didn’t know where the bathroom was and made you show him the way. Where he faked being anxious when you left your flat, saying that he hoped you liked the restaurant he booked a table at. Where he nervously asked if you liked Italian food, as if you hadn’t shared a million pizzas together.

Things were different now, and although you were close, would often do everything you could to dissolve into his skin, walking hand in hand through the streets of London felt insane. Like you were moving too fast, even though you understood how silly that sounded.

You’d spent that entire walk thinking of a natural reason to let go of his hand, and Joe had felt your fingers twitch. Felt how you seemed to change you mind about it every three seconds. But, you’d said he could hold onto you, so, he simply did.

It wasn’t until you reached the restaurant and used the heavy door as an excuse to wiggle your fingers from Joe’s hand, using both of yours to pull it open.

Baby steps, Joe thought as he smirked to himself, astonished that he’d gotten to hold your hand out in public for over ten minutes.

He was sure you’d slap him away the second he even attempted to intertwine your fingers together.

Which, coincidentally, was exactly what you did the first time Joe tried to lean in for a quick peck on the lips as you said goodbye to each other outside of his flat.

You’d been out, and were both in a bit of a rush to get home. You thought that the way you’d hugged his arm for a second was plenty goodbye. You’d pressed the side of your face to his bicep and said you’d see him later.

You’d reached the point where you wanted to go cross the street as Joe would walk the other way to get to his front door, and when you tried to step away, he yanked you right back by the elbow.

The way you recoiled away from him was so extreme, it startled Joe. You almost made it look like he was about to hit you.

“Jesus,” he mumbled under his breath, and you immediately apologised. You stepped back closer to him, were about to accept a quick kiss as an apology, but let your eyes nervously dart around to see if there were other people. If there were witnesses.

Joe just looked at you, blinked a few times and then, instead of leaning in for a quick kiss, squeezed you in your side.

“Calm down. Call me when you get home.”

And you’d blushed at how Joe’d smiled at you before he turned to head inside. Your face had remained hot until you got home where you then had to take a moment to shake all the nervous jitters from your body.

It was such a weird spot to be in, Joe thought.

How he couldn’t get too close if there was the slightest chance of someone seeing, but to have you literally whine at him inbetween his sheets if he didn’t touch you in the right spot with the right pressure at the right speed.

But steps were being made in the right direction.

You each had you own place now, and Joe made a point to sometimes not see you for a few days. He kind of enjoyed getting to miss you. He liked how his stomach did flips when you’d ring his doorbell after not having been over for a few days. He liked how absence made his heart grow fonder, and how that felt healthy.

Joe assumed you felt the same way; maybe you didn’t like it as much as he did, but surely you also understood how this was at least more normal.

He never thought that what the two of you were before was toxic.

It was just... weird.

Good weird.

But this was better.

Still a little weird, he wasn’t going to lie. But better.

He got to tell you to call him when you got home now. He got to invite you over to his flat for Sunday roast now. And you would then come and bring him flowers now.

Joe had never received flowers before. Well, maybe he had. But not like this. Not from a girl who brought them just for him. Just because. He kind of loved it. Kind of loved you.

“God, you were right.” Joe said, eyes unblinking, comfortably staring.

Both satisfied and full after an early dinner, the two of you laid out on Joe’s sofa - the one that took six weeks and then two more to arrive - and both looked at the bouquet up on the kitchen island. You were tucked into his side, with one of his arms slung around your frame. You held one of his hands with both of yours and absentmindedly played with his fingers.

 “I don’t know how this works but they kind of make the whole room look better.”

“They do.” You agreed, smiling, because you did that. You turned your head, tilting up to look at Joe’s face. “Please let me pick out a vase for you, though.”

Joe’s grin slowly grew as he said, “Absolutely not. Might just keep the pitcher for flowers only, I kind of like it.”

“Ugh,” you grimaced. “This is such a boy’s flat.”

“Well,” Joe started, raising his eyebrows, finally breaking eye-contact with the fresh bloom, tucking in his chin to look down at you. “I am a boy, so, that checks out.”

For a moment you just looked at each other, smiling, cuddled up into the corner like you always were cuddled up into the corner together. When you saw Joe flick his eyes down to your lips, you pulled the hand you were still holding closer to bite right into the skin between his index finger and thumb.

Joe pretended to flinch, but you were barely leaving marks as you smiled through the bite, big eyes looking up at him. Joe took a moment to just take you in. The way you looked at him had him biting his own lip before he tried to grab hold of one of your hands to pull into his mouth.

You were already scream-laughing and trying your best to pull your hand away before he even got close. It left you in a wrestling pile of limbs, Joe with his mouth open, growling and ready to bite at whatever got close enough. He ended up getting at bit of your sleeve in between his teeth, pinning you down into the soft seat-cushions and he felt drunk with joy.

He was so fucking happy.

Pretty girl in his flat, giggling away on his sofa, and she’d brought him flowers. It was kind of disgusting how he’d turned to goop on the inside.

Joe didn’t wait for your giggles to die out to get his lips on yours and kiss you silly.

There was something living inside Joe’s chest.

It was sticky and sugary sweet and Joe loved the taste it.

Loved how it bubbled over and leaked into his stomach.

Loved how it swirled into his limbs and made him reach for your hand to hold when you were walking outside.

Loved how it made him put his arm around your shoulders to pull you tightly into his side as you waited to get your coffees whilst the barista prepared them.

Loved how it grew as he took the lead on this new way of being together the way you had done before when you still lived together.

It made Joe want to introduce you to someone as his girlfriend, knowing full well that you hadn’t had that conversation yet, and that you’d likely have a melt down, but God.

It was just what he wanted to do, he couldn’t help it.

He wouldn’t.

There was a high probability that you’d actually murder him if he pulled a stunt like that.

The fact that you were kissing like this outside of your flat right now was already sort of stretching it, Joe knew.

You let Joe kiss you on his sofa for a minute. Let him slide his nose around yours with an open mouth that hovered over yours inbetween kisses. He made you work for it, having to lift up your head for more when he teased you for too long.

When you felt how Joe started readjusting his position on top of you, you knew you had to break it off.

“Hmm– Joe, no, I gotta–”

“Hm?”

“I gotta go, there’s– stop, there’s a potential flatmate coming over in a bit, I gotta– Joe!”

Joe finally broke away with an annoyed grumble leaving his throat as he did.

“Fine.”

“I can... I could always come back after?”

Joe shifted enough to let you escape the sofa.

“Hmm, you could, but I do have an early morning, so it’s probably not worth the trouble.” Joe sighed, lying back with an arm curled behind his head, watching you twist your clothes so it all sat right again.

“No?”

“I’ll probably be asleep by the time you make it back here.”

“Well,” you started, slinging your arms into your coat. “All depends on how long this is going to take. If it’s another 19-year-old trying to negotiate for a 30-70 rent split first thing, I’ll only be a second.”

“God, for your sake, I hope it’s not another student. But for my sake...” Joe made big eyes, giving you a suggestive look that broke into a smile when you laughed.

You gave Joe a last quick kiss as you bent over the sofa and told him you’d see him later, all casual.

Joe’s smile lingered as he watched you walk out.

“Call me when you get home!”

Yea... there was something living inside Joe’s chest.

And it was cuddly and fuzzy and comfortable and good...

For now.

---

The Taglisted

@ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @bylermaxmayfield, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @djoseph-quinn, @dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma-munson, @emotionaldreamer, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @hanahkatexo, @harringtonfan4, @hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @munson-mjstan, @nadixq, @nglharry, @notverywise, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @royale1803, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @solzi1420, @songforeddiemunson, @sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo

taglist currently full, sorry

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

No Pain, No Gain | Part 4, Final | PersonalTrainer!Aemond x fem!reader

A:N: Thank you all soooo much for joining me on this one, it was a blast to write. This chapter kinda made me feral writing it ngl. Cheers to my hype mama @ewanmitchellcrumbs <3 And I know I mentioned it in the first part but really it’s Ange as well as @valeskafics​ @oneeyedvisenya​ and @sapphire-writes​ that inspired me to write this from their AMAZING modern fics, so please give them all the love as well.

Series Masterlist | Warnings under the cut!

warnings: SMUT, 18+, MINORS DNI, pussy slapping, p in v sex, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, Aemond being mean during sex lowkey love it tho

Lucky for you, the flight wasn’t too long.

 Even though you had Baela on your shoulder snoozing, nothing could tear your mind off the sheer idiocy of the previous week.

 You’d fucking kissed him.

Or he’d kissed you? At this point the whole memory was foggy.

 All you know is that you were mere seconds away from tearing his fucking clothes off in his home gym and letting him have you on any flat surface there was.

 You thought how wrong it was. You were paying this guy!

 And yet there was a lingering feeling in the back of your mind, a heat clawing its way up your neck, like a constant ache almost at the thought of what would have happened if you hadn’t bolted. The endless possibilities were…vividly playing on your brain the entire plane journey.

 ‘Fucking perfect’

 Even his voice had made a permanent home in your mind, his hot breath against your ear as he pinned you against the wall, allowing you to feel just how turned on he had been.

 You obeyed Baela’s wishes and only told Maris about the kiss.

 It turned out that Baela’s Dad, Daemon, had really gone all out for this retreat. In a place called Lys (which you’d scarcely heard of) on the other side of the island from where the airport was, it was quiet, with only the odd resident along the streets, but for the most part it was completely remote. You’d have to thank him for the personal taxi later.

 Baela had slept through the plane journey entirely so now she just looked out the windows tiredly.

 “Is your Dad and Rhaenyra already there?” you ask, seemingly breaking her from a tired trance.

 She stretches, “Yeah they’ve been here ages already, the rest of the fam are here as well, we’re the last”

 “Why’s that?” you ask.

 Baela smirks mischievously, “There’s some tension at the moment, flights were staggered for the sake of people’s sanity”

 “Oh right”

 You can still hear his voice, the breathy tone he’d used.

 ‘Fuck…’

 Bad girl. Stop it.

 At least it’d be nice to have the better part of a week abroad, miles and miles away from the man in question who was making every thought sinful. You could finally relax.

 “Is it a big resort?” you asked.

 “Oh it’s not one big place, we’ve all got separate little villas. You and I are with Rhaena and her boyfriend, Cregan. Alicent and her fam are in the one next to us. Dad’s done us the courtesy of being the furthest away so we can’t hear him and Rhaenyra going at it”

 “Ew Baela” you scrunch your nose, “Is Alicent nice?”

 “Nice enough to us. Look out for Aegon though”

 “The manwhore one, right. The one we ran into?”

 “Yeah, I didn’t tell him you were coming for a reason. The slut will be all over you”

 “Yeah no thanks, I might get syphilis” you joke, smoothing your hands over your legs.

 You’d changed on the plane to a pair of black shorts and a tank top, and it was a good job you did. It was hot in Lys. Bloody roasting. And if that wasn’t bad enough. It was humid as well, which meant the forgoing of a bra. But c'est la vie, you supposed, you were on holiday, you looked great, felt great and couldn’t wait to get in the sun and just soak it all up.

 You and Baela spent the last 30 minutes of the journey installing Tinder on your phone to check out the selection of men (and women, just out of curiosity) in Lys. But being a small island, you were picking up on people who lived hours away, in places you’ve never heard of either. 

To your dismay, not many people on Tinder in Lys, shockingly. So you stuffed your phone away as you pulled up to the resort. The resort, or at least the one which you’d share with Rhaena and Cregan, was a single floored villa with what you assumed was two bedrooms on each side. It was nice and quaint.

 “Cute” you comment.

Next to that little villa was another bigger one, two floors, slightly more bedrooms you’d wager. That must be where Alicent would be staying.

“She still came even though Viserys died?” you ask Baela, but she only raises her eyebrows.

 “It’s not like they were in love”

 Fair.

 Between the two villas there was a large shared pool that was separated into two sections and a tiny kiosk in the corner where a bartender was packing away stock. Rounding the taxi, you pull your luggage out with a huff.

 “Bartender is not too shabby” Baela wiggles her eyebrows and you shove her playfully.

 She’s right. He ain’t bad looking at all. Suitably tanned, perhaps even a native to the island, his white shirt only serves to emphasise the way his arms are so toned. It’s a nice distraction for sure, even if nothing ends up happening.

 It’s still early afternoon so plenty of time to get dressed and soak up the sun. But as you’re pulling your suitcase out of the taxi, you’re ogling the bartender so hard that it falls out the boot of the car.

 “Christ” you whisper.

 A woman from the bigger villa rounds the corner with long, curled auburn hair. You assume she must be Alicent, but she looks far too young to have four kids all grown up. She gives Baela a polite wave and turns, “Boys, help them with their bags, would you?”

 “Oh no, we’re fine!” you say back, giving her a wave and kneeling to the floor to pick up all your bags.

 “Thanks Aeg” Baela says as her bag is plucked from her grasp easily. You pull one bag over your shoulder and attempt to pull your suitcase to its side.

 “Struggling?”

 You froze.

 Oh fuck.

 You knew that voice. But you dare not look up.

 You stand with your hand on the handle of your suitable, eyes fixed solely on anywhere but where you know he is stood, smirking.

 An involuntary breath manages to escape when his large hand, the one you remembered pressing against your waist last time, brushed against yours to wrap around the handle of the suitcase. He takes it effortlessly, making you finally look up at him.

 He makes no secret of eyeing every bit of you, savouring the parts he’s never seen before, like the expanse of your legs, having previously always been covered by gym leggings. Smooth and leading to the spot where his eye pauses for a moment. To the tops of your thighs sneaking out of your shorts, he eyes them as well with a dark, determined look. The corner of his lip curled up somewhat once he saw the tank top and your lack of anything underneath.

 He looks disgustingly good, at least since the last time you saw him. Hair once again, in that slutty fucking bun.

 He’s only wearing shorts, perhaps he’d been sunbathing as well, but clearly not had much of a tan yet. His chest, which you’d never seen bare before, was glistening under the sun, toned and well defined with lines running all over. You caught yourself from looking at the dip of his hips, at the lines leading down to where you knew you wouldn’t be able to not look if you did. So you painfully refrained and looked back into his mismatched eyes, at the glowing pride sitting there at your obvious ogling of his form.

 He chuckles quietly and takes your suitcase to take into your room, as if he just needed an excuse to see the inside of it. You stood stock still in your position, watching the muscles of his back move as he walks, as if he just knows you’re watching him.

 Which of course, you are.

 You bite the inside of your cheek, both ragingly horny and annoyed at the same time.

 And when you look over at Baela, she bites her lip, mouthing I didn’t know.

 “I’m gonna fucking kill you” you whispered and she laughed nervously, as if really believing you’d do it.

Once the two Targaryen brothers had evacuated your rooms, you pushed Baela inside your shared room and slammed the door.

“Woah woah chill, what’s the big deal?” she asked, searching your eyes.

“Baela, why the fuck is he here?” you whisper, clearly stressed.

 “The fuck is up with you?”

 “Fuck’s sake, Baela, we kissed!”

She’s quiet for a moment and you expect her to freak out, but she just raises an eyebrow, “Is that it?”

 “Baela!”

 “You didn’t bang?”

 “Fuck’s sake, no! I mean… we might have if I hadn’t run off…but it felt too weird-I was paying him-”

 “You ran off?” Baela snorts.

 “Shut the fuck up”

 “What are you afraid of dick now?”

“Baela, I just-I couldn’t, it felt too weird-it’s not like I didn’t want to but-fuck”

 Baela puts her arms on your shoulders, “Babe, calm down. Listen, he's not your personal trainer anymore, mm’kay? He’s just ‘creepy Aemond’, now get your ass in that bikini so we can see the fruits of your labours alright? Get in that fucking sun”

 “He’s not creepy, Bae” you reply, exasperated by the situation you’ve been put in.

 “Regardless, get out there. Show him what he’s missing” Baela winks, zipping open her bag to get her swimming stuff, “You’re hot, y/n. Show him”

 With an annoyed sigh, you shed your clothes, not caring about whether you’re naked in front of Baela or not. A few years in a house-share with her meant you’d walked in on each other nude more than once.

 “Well?” she grins, you look over, bottom half of the black bikini now on, and your jaw drops.

 “Oh my god” you say, looking over at her. She has a bikini of her own, pale blue in colour and one that compliments her skin tone well. Hers has ties that she’s double knotted, “You look fit”

 “Thank you” she says with a smile, as if she knows it anyway.

 You pull your bikini top on, making sure your boobs are well rested and adjusted inside the top. The bottoms are double knotted at the hips, the top a classic one that ties around your neck and back. Once the girls are where they’re meant to be, you look over yourself in the mirror, and you had to admit, the one month program did a number on you. Thighs and legs, slightly more toned, curves smoothed over, arms had a bit more shape to them, but nothing that screamed ‘ah yeah I work out’. And more than anything, the ass looked amazing. You knew you had an ass anyway, but now…

 “What do you think?” you ask Baela, pulling your hair up messily.

 She looks at you in the mirror, “I give it a day” she says as she smears lotion over her body.

 “Until?”

 “Til Aemond’s had you on every flat surface here”

 “You’re fucking gross, you know that”

 “Bet you 5 gold dragons”

 “You’re on,  bitch”

  Once suitably sun-creamed up, skin glistening with it, you rest your sunglasses on top of your head and take a deep breath, going out to be greeted by the warm, humid air. Luckily, only Aegon seems to be sat outside on a sunbed at the moment, his hat resting over his face. Baela happily passes you a bright orange cocktail, and not quite ready to get into the pool, you sit on the side and dip your legs in, the smell of chlorine making you feel like you were finally on holiday.

 Aegon lifts his hat, squinting, “Hello ladies”

 Baela dips into the pool, “Manwhore”

 “Well that’s not very nice”

 Aegon doesn’t make any further effort to speak, plopping his hat back over his face, one airpod in his ear. Sipping the cool drink you scan the area. The villas are cute and luxurious and from here down the cobbled path you can see the beach that backs onto it all, the glaring white sand calling to you and the rush of the waves against them are somewhat calming.

 The little bar in the corner plays some quiet music, not loud enough to disturb anyone from their sunbathing or other holiday-like activities. Alicent sits on the other side underneath a parasol, she’s wearing a classy one-piece and for a woman with four kids grown up, she doesn’t show it one bit, slender and youthful. She reads a book in her lap, sunglasses rested firmly on her nose, a diet-coke in one hand.

 The only sound at the moment was the quiet music and the rippling of water as Baela swam leisurely in the pool, careful not to get her hair wet.

 It was nice.

 Down the cobbled path, you hear the grunts of what sound like two male voices. Arching an eyebrow and tipping your sunglasses up, there’s two men, suitably broad, making their way up to your villa.

 “Ah, my favourite cousin has arrived!” this guy is shorter, but not short by any means, he has wild curly brown hair and wearing shorts that reach to about his knees. Not a red flag per se but…

 Baela splashes him from her spot in the pool, “See you two are getting along famously”

 The other guy with him you recognise as Cregan Stark, Rhaena’s current boyfriend. You’d seen him around when you were at university, but the years had been kind to him and he’d broadened significantly, with a dark beard and a smattering of chest hair covering his torso. At least he’s opted for more stylish shorts though. You give him a polite wave which he returns, he’d always been a softie, it seems that hadn’t changed. Good for Rhaena.

 Jace flashes a smile your way, “Is this the infamous y/n?” he asks, rounding the pool to come and stand beside you to introduce himself, “I’m Jace”

 It’s at this moment that Aemond comes out of his villa, towel in hand. You try your damndest to not look in his direction as he throws his towel at the sunbed next to Aegon, but when you break and do, he’s not even looking at you. He’s staring daggers into the back of Jace’s head, gaze dark as if he wants to take the poor guy’s head clean off. And he makes a fucking meal out of his, only briefly flitting to you before looking away.

 Oh.

 Oh.

 You bite back a smile.

 “Nice to meet you” you say, shaking his hand politely, looking back to Baela and pulling an awkward look. She’s doing the same thing with her eyebrow raised.

 “I’m the other cousin, my brother’s Luke and Joff are in the villa over” he says excitedly. Gods he’s like…a puppy. Even though he very well could be the same age or older, he’s vibrating with excitement. It’s kind of a turn off.

 “You’re Rhaenyra’s kids right?” you ask, politely pretending to be interested.

 He nods, “Yeah, you probably won’t see her. Her and Daemon are always in the cities being tourists”

 This attempt at conversation is…taking it all from you. He’s cute, but not fuckable cute. And with Aemond in your peripheral pretending to be on his phone, but secretly watching every word that’s exchanged, it’s kind of exciting to see him…jealous perhaps.

 You just nod and agree to whatever he says. Aemond visibly bristles, tongue poking the inside of his cheek when Jace signs off with, “You’re welcome to come to our villa whenever you want”

 A bit…forward if anything. But you thank him politely and Jace eventually retreats down the cobbled path to his villa, which he’s helpfully stated is only about a 2 minute walk.

 Cregan asks, “Where’s Rhaena?”

“At the beach”

Cregan gives a polite smile, going off to the white sandy beach in search of his girlfriend. Baela swims up to you, leaning on the side of the pool as you sip the last of your cocktail.

 “Is he always so adept with women?” you ask with a smirk, Baela snorts, “several times I caught him looking below the chin”

 “Can you blame him” Baela returns, “Nah, he’s harmless really, you coming in?” she asks, swimming on her back to the middle of the pool.

 Sighing, you pull the sunglasses from your head and put them aside, padding over to the ladder.

 Even though you don’t look, you feel the intensity of his gaze. Raking all over your skin, as if the more he stares, the more skin he’ll be able to see. Perhaps he’d wondered what you looked like beneath the black fabric of the bikini, what it might feel like to undo the ties of them and let the fabric peel off your moistened skin, exposing your most intimate areas to the humid air.

 Your skin blossoms at the thought, even with how hot it is. The sun makes it no easier to cool off from these musings, only serving to intensify the electric bolt that radiates between the both of you, becoming stronger the closer you are to him.

 He watches as your legs dip into the pool the further you descend down the ladder, the water moistening your sun-cream lotioned skin, slipping away in waves as the droplets lap against your toned thighs. Aemond thinks he might die on the spot when the water surges against your breasts, instantly making the supple skin there glisten in the sun.

 And if that wasn’t enough, you reach up in a surprisingly tempting gesture and pull the clip from your hair. He’d rarely seen your hair down, but here with the ends dipping into the pool, each strand glimmering a soft halo around your head with the afternoon glow, the reins he has pulled taut inside his head are slipping recklessly.

 Pretending to scroll through his phone, his brother Aegon smirks beneath his hat, shamelessly watching Aemond’s resolve slowly crumble. But you do a good job of barely looking at him for the remainder of the afternoon. The same cannot be said for him.

 He realises he’s fucked when Baela, the ever playful person she is, dunks you below the water and every bit of you is wet, water cascading off every curve as you laugh and wipe your eyes. Even when you pull yourself onto the ladder out of the pool, giving him the perfect view of your ass, pulling the bikini a little bit up your hips as you do so, he manages to somehow hold it together.

 Being late in the afternoon, the sun’s beginning to make its way down, so with a slight shiver you pull a towel around you, raking some fingers through your wet hair to get the chlorine-induced tangles out. You lean over the bar, waiting for the bartender to turn around,

“Baela, what do you want?”

“Whatever you’re having!”

The bartender flashes a smile once he recognises your presence, eyes flitting to your chest pressed between your arms as you lean over the bar before returning to your eyes.

 “What can I get for you” he asks lowly and your head cocks at the accent. It’s kinda hot.

 “Do you have gin and tonic?” you ask politely,

 He braces the bar, the vein in his arm visible from this angle, “We do, but I think for a pretty woman like you I can make something better”

 You raise an eyebrow, “like what?”

 He twirls a glass of something behind his back, clearly showing off his bartending skills, “How about something with ouzo?”

 You shrug with a smile, “Never tried it but sure”

 As he mixes the drink, you peer over your shoulder at Baela and then to Aemond. He’s already watching you. It’s that look again. The one he’d given you last time in his home gym. The one where it feels like he’s looking right inside you, the darkened, determined look. You keep his gaze, thinking he will just look away like he had before. But he doesn’t.

 A muscle in his jaw twitches with annoyance. Or perhaps not even annoyance. Something else.

 Once you’ve polished off several cocktails, Aemond leaves with Aegon to go inside, presumably to change clothes, but not before giving you a look over his shoulder. Anyone else would have thought he was livid. To be honest, for a second you thought he very well could be. For what reason he had to be livid? You had no idea.

 You spent the night slathered in mosquito repellent and sat outside with Baela, Rhaena and Cregan. You’d wanted to be comfortable so decided on a dress with spaghetti straps. It was a comfortably warm evening, with fire-lit torches illuminating the space around the villa. Rhaena had arrived back in the late afternoon, flushed in the face and hair tousled and you and both Baela had noted that Cregan’s shorts were untied. The sun was clearly getting to Rhaena. Her and Cregan was a fairly new thing and she’d been both shocked and giddy when he’d offered to be her plus one for the trip.

 Sometime in the night, a figure that was clearly Aemond and another white haired girl walked towards their villa.

 “Helaena!” Rhaena shouted over with a smile. Both figures stopped and your stomach fluttered with nervousness when Aemond’s eyes landed on you briefly. Then a slight pang of disappointment when he said goodbye to the woman next to him to slip inside the villa.

 The ethereal looking woman comes over excitedly, sitting beside you, “Oh my gosh, when did you guys get here!”

 “Cregan and I came yesterday” Rhaena smiles,

 “Yeah but they were probably in bed all day sleeping, right Rhae?” Baela murmurs into her drink earning a smack from her sister.

 “Well it’s nice to meet you, Cregan” Helaena smiles politely before turning to you, “And you are?”

 “I’m y/n, Helaena was it?” you ask, shaking her soft hand. She was really pretty, like a fairy just floating around. She had dangly earrings with ladybirds on them and was wearing a flowy cream dress.

 “Oh so you’re y/n, I’ve heard so much about you!”

 It catches you off guard slightly, but you nod and then turn to Baela furrowing your eyebrows confusedly. She’s heard so much about you? The hell does that mean?

 The rest of the night is really pleasant and Helaena stays with you all chatting for the remainder of it. She’s really nice it turns out. It’s a wonder she’s even related to her brothers. She tells you all about the family drama, which piques your excitement and that her youngest brother Daeron, didn’t end up coming since he’s studying abroad, so she came instead. And you’re grateful she did, it’s nice to have other new female company.

 In your shared bedroom, you and Baela chat well into the night, about a plethora of things. But one subject you refuse to broach is him. Nope. Can’t talk about him. He’s only a few metres away, if you let your mind wander too much it’ll all be over.

 It’s a restless night’s sleep and your subconscious certainly doesn’t help. All your mind can allow you to remember is the way he touched you, how he had pressed against you, how his lips were slotting against yours almost desperately, his low moan.

 The next morning, after having a continental breakfast, Baela puts on a long maxi dress.

 “Everyone’s going to the city for a shop around, wanna come?” Baela meets your eyes in the mirror.

 “Shopping? Nah, that’s fine I’ll just stay here, want to relax a little bit and get some more sun”

 “You sure? Feel bad leaving you here on your own”

 “Is everyone going with you?” you ask, pulling some shorts over your black bikini.

 “Nearly, except for Dad and Rhaenyra. Sure you don’t mind?” she asks,

“Course not, have a good time”

 Pulling a shawl over your shoulders you see Baela and everyone off before trudging down the cobbled path to the white, sandy beach, plopping yourself on the sand and opening a book you’d borrowed from the shelf near the bar. You let the sun beat down on your shoulders, the soft wind blowing through your hair and listening to the waves in the quiet hair while reading a book just seems so calming.

 You’d already gotten quite a bit of sun yesterday and your legs had glazed with a sun-kissed colour, as well as your arms. So much so, the bikini had left a few lines where the straps were, if only very faintly. It was always easy for you to catch the sun. Pulling off your shorts, you lean back on your elbows to read some more and get some colour on your thighs.

 Early afternoon came by quickly and before you knew it, you could feel the tingle of pinkness on your shoulders, where your bikini was tied at your neck.

 Fuck.

 You’d forgotten to put suncream there, Baela had been the one to reach the difficult spot yesterday.

 Packing up your things, you carry your shorts and shawl in one hand and trudge back to the villa. It’s quiet, everyone must still be in the city. Your hair had somewhat curled up from the sea breeze so you ran your fingers through it once inside, snagging on some tangles.

 Now, where was the aftersun. Baela had it…

 “Not a fan of shopping?”

 Your head swung around at the sudden, familiar voice. And there he was, looking annoyingly hot, leaning against the doorway to your villa, a toned arm supporting his weight. Again, he wasn’t wearing a shirt and his shorts hung on his hips, making your eyes dip to those lines that lead…

 No.

 He has a lazy smile on his face, happy to have got you flustered and allowing his eyes once again to look over you in just the black bikini once more.

 “No, not really” is all you can muster, going back to looking for the aftersun with urgency. But really you didn’t want him to see the pink flush on your cheeks. Seeing him like this, no less being alone with him, especially looking as good as he does, was about to drive you to madness.

 He hums and walks forward into the village, hands in his pockets, “Looking for something?”

 “U-uh, just the aftersun” you struggle, clearing your throat and cursing yourself for the shake in your voice at being in his presence once again.

 “Ah” he responds.

 You gasp when one of his arms braces the counter in front of you and he bends down to the mini fridge, opening it to produce a bottle of said aftersun. You could feel his presence at your back, broad and warm, all encompassing. Swallowing thickly, you take a breath. It must be the smell of something on his skin that gives off a subtle scent, but whatever it is makes your stomach flutter and a warm bloom settles in your abdomen.

 You go to reach for the bottle, but he pulls back, and you meet his gaze. His look is soft, but dark and steadfast.

 “Where”

 Jesus fucking christ. My heart is beating so fucking fast right now.

 “Um…back of my neck” it comes out a whisper, and he doesn’t miss the way your breasts move in the bikini as you nervously breathe slightly heavier.

 “Difficult to reach by yourself” he muses, his voice rumbling in his chest as he is standing right behind you. You bite your lip. Is this really fucking happening right now.

 You shiver when his large hand moves your hair from your back to one side of your neck, the feeling of his fingers brushing against the skin there almost makes an involuntary sound come out your mouth. But you repress it, closing your eyes to grab hold of your reins.

 One hand fiddles with the single knot of the tie at your neck, slowly, his breath steady. And he finds the one he needs and pulls slowly, unwinding the bow until the bikini top is loosened. Your hands move to hold the front of your bikini up to cover your breasts as the fabric falls. Your mind is at war with itself, stuck between thinking this is wrong and it should stop, and then the more dominant side thinks, he’s here, doing this, you might as well see where it goes.

 Even though it was only one thin strap, when he sees your almost bare back right before him, you hear him exhale lowly and you only know because you feel his hot breath against it. He deposits some cold aftersun in his hand and slowly reaches out to the slightly pink skin of your nape, to spread it across. Your body prickles with anticipation at his touch, coupled with the chill of the liquid. Nobody says a thing as he massages it into your skin, not quite feathery but he applies pressure, making sure to roll his fingers into the muscles there, so that you really feel him.

 He continues for a moment and then his other hand joins. You’re unsure if there is actually any aftersun left at this point and he is just finding an excuse to touch you, but you don’t stop him. Desire pools in your stomach as his hands drag south, down the expanse of your back, to the sides, nearly touching your own hands where they are covering your breasts. Your eyelashes flutter as you sigh at the feeling, his large palms working the moistened skin. It is this point your eyes open when you feel his very obvious erection, pressing firmly against your buttocks.

 You feel his breath close to your nape, and it all seems to fall apart as he presses his lips there. Once, twice, three times…and then again as he drags his lips up your neck to behind your ear.

 “It’s not fair…you getting to walk around like this…” he whispers next to your ear, his hands trace the contours of your breasts, “...every fucking guy ogling you…”

 One of his hands smoothes down your side, resting at your hip, fiddling with the single knot of your bikini there.

 “...wanting to fuck you…”

 He just lets his hang rest there, neither touching you where you need him the most. Your blood is rushing around your body, humming with desire. Frustrated at not being allowed the pleasure it so desperately needs.

 “...but you won’t let them, will you. You’ll just let them look, like the needy attention slut you are”

 His words are unexpected but they have their effect, and you can practically feel your arousal at what he says. One of his hands sneaks beneath yours, to grab one of your breasts tightly, almost possessively, pinching the nipple between his dexterous fingers. It makes you breathe out a quiet moan, your body slowly giving in.

 “Do you have any idea how much I wanted to fuck that stupid little attitude out of you?” he says, his breath hot on the shell of your ear.

 He moulds your breast in his palm effortlessly, waiting for an answer.

 But you moan louder in both surprise and arousal when he squeezes it harshly, “I asked you a question”

 “Fuck-no, I didn’t…” you somehow manage, cracking your eyes open slightly. You see him only a little in your peripheral, expecting him to be smirking. But he’s not, he is dead serious. Which somehow serves to awaken your desire even more.

 His other hand slips beneath the fabric of your bikini and he himself lets out a guttural moan feeling how turned on you already are, the pads of his fingers collect the wetness already there, moving up to circle your slit with your own slick. Your mouth falls open slightly, body trembling with anticipation. God why does it feel so good.

“I would have had you in every way imaginable…if you’d stayed…” he murmurs against you, speeding up the motions of his finger.

“Fuck…Aemond-please”

 He spins you around quickly, the top of your bikini falling in a useless mess to the floor and he quite literally growls at the sight of your tits, as if he’d imagined what they might look like for a long time. His jaw tightens at the sight and he pushes the bottoms down to the floor, sinking to his knees almost instantly so he is staring hungrily at your cunt, wet and dripping for him.

 His hands remain at your hips, his fingers bruising red marks into them.

“Please what”

 Shit.

 Your face flushes red at the sight of him so close to your intimate area, and you would be lying if you said you weren’t a little embarrassed, but his pupils are so dilated with pure lust, it almost makes you forget.

 Your body jolts when he slaps your pussy hard, sending a jolt of pleasure through your clit and clawing up your spine, a desperate sound escapes you. He need not say anything else.

 “Please, I need you” you whine pathetically and he huffs, as if annoyed, using his large hands to part your legs even further, the counter biting into your lower back.

 “That’s what I fucking thought”

 He dives into your pussy with his tongue, swirling the soft, wet muscle around your clit a few times deliciously before venturing down, fucking you with his tongue and lapping up your slick like a man starved. He grips your hips as if you might move away from him, keeping you right where he wants you and all the while your desperate whines and the lewd sound of his mouth are the only thing that fills the otherwise quiet villa.

 You pray nobody returns, because what you’re doing right now deserves to be loud.

 God, how long had it been since a man last treated you this way. Since a man had known what to do with you so confidently, to have you a moaning mewling mess.

 It’s here when you look down, that you realise he’s fucking moaning while eating your pussy, almost sounding as if he’s enjoying this far more than you are. Enjoying your taste, your scent, everything. He briefly looks up at you, drinking in the indulgent look on your pinkened face, before delving deeper, his sharp nose rubbing against your clit with every move he makes with his tongue within you.

 You nearly lose it entirely when he presses two fingers inside, immediately crooking them to rub against that delicious spongy spot that makes your mouth hang open.

 “Ohfuck” you whimper as he doubles his efforts on your clit while pistoning his long, slender fingers within you. It feels like so much and your hand comes down to his wrist, feeling your climax curl in your gut and threatening to explode faster than ever. But he groans and uses his other hand to push it away, blissfully ignoring you and going faster in an effort to make you come apart around him.

 “You gonna come on my fucking tongue” he growls into your pussy, his ministrations never stopping for a second and in fact his lips lock around your clit to suck. A desperate moan spills from your mouth, not even passing your brain.

 “Yes, yes…” you pant, “Fuck-Aemond”

 Your hands brace the counter as your climax is ripped from you by the force of his fingers and mouth. Pure, white hot pleasure wakes every nerve in your body, prickling up your back and into your limbs, making them go numb. You barely register the sound you even make as Aemond continues to fuck you with his fingers through it, lapping up every bit of your essence that comes out, moaning and chanting ‘good fucking girl’.

 It genuinely takes you a moment to recover from it, your chest shining with sweat from the effort. But before you know which way is up, he rises, hands under your thighs to pull you up onto the counter, which is good since your legs were starting to give in from the force of your orgasm.

 “Aem-”

 His lips are on yours before you even have a chance to speak, allowing your legs to part so he might press flush against your weeping cunt. You feel his erection, hard and thick against you and it only makes you want it more. He takes you in with his lips as if it’s the air he breathes, a mess of lips, tongues and the taste of you, sweet like nectar.

 “Fuck, want you so bad” he breathes between kisses, outright moaning when your fingers card into the hair at his nape and grip.

 “Fuck me, I want to feel all of you”

 His eyes peer open down at you, his chest heaving with desire.

 “Please, don’t make me beg”

 At this, he does smirk, pushing his shorts further down his hips and freeing his cock, “I’d like to see you beg, baby”

 Christ.

 He’s much bigger than you’ve had before, definitely bigger than your pathetic ex was anyway (not like it’s hard). You take him into your palm, hot, weighty and heavy and he tilts his head back at the feeling as you give his length a few languid strokes, although there really is no need since he’s been constantly hard the second he saw you come out the taxi the day before. The way his face contorts when you rub your thumb over his weeping tip makes you think he is painfully hard, aching for any kind of release.

 God, if this is what he looks like now, you want to see his face when he is fucking you stupid.

 You guide him to your waiting core, his head barely kissing your entrance.

 “I’ve got an IUD, please-”

 He doesn’t need to hear any more, his hands reach out to grip your waist, pulling you forward as he pushes, letting out a guttural moan as he sinks into you to the hilt. He moves your leg to hook around him, trying to get as close to you as possible.

 “Fuck…” he moans with a shudder as his cock is squeezed by your tightness, “god you’re so fucking tight”

 Everything about this has your blood on fire. His cock fills you so perfectly, his moans, his words, the way his hands are holding you apart for him to use you. One of his hands moves to your nape, grabbing the hair there in his grip tightly, and the tension against your hair makes you moan out as well.

 But he doesn’t move.

 “Aemond…”

 “Beg for it” he orders, his stomach taut with the effort it takes to hold himself back. Frustrated and turned on beyond belief, you try and move your hips for friction. His hand flies from your hip to your jaw, fingers bruising into your cheeks, making you look directly at him and your eyes meet his, wide-eyed and heavily dilated, “Beg for it like the fucking slut I know you are”

 Once again his words ignite that fire that creeps down your spine, and you feel every bit of him. Every vein on his cock, how it twitches within your heat and how it kisses your cervix with how big it is.

 “Please fuck me, just move Aemond-please”

 You don’t have the resolve to deny it now. You want it so bad, more than you’ve wanted anything ever.

 He wets his lips, “That’s it” he coos.

 He pulls almost all the way out before slamming back inside, watching the way your tits bounce when his hips snap against yours with need. He doesn't start gently, too pent up for that, nor does he build up to it. He fucks you on the counter like he’s not been able to get a moment’s rest from thinking about this for weeks. The hand in your hair tightens impossibly, holding you there while his cock drags against your walls, still sensitive from your previous climax.

 Aemond watches his cock disappear over and over again into you, coated in your slick, revelling in the filthy sounds it makes when he slaps against you. And when he delivers a particularly hard thrust, brushing against that spot inside, your hand flies to your mouth to contain your moans, concerned that if anyone did come back, they’d be able to hear you.

 “None of that” he growls, ripping your hand away from your mouth, his eyes glimmering with mischief, “I wanna hear how good I make you feel”

 It’s impossible to hold back. He sees it all as a challenge now as he takes your hips with both hands, fucking you even faster if it were possible. He adjusts his hips and his stomach muscles, toned and hard ripple with the effort, his strong arms caging you completely in and he looks down at you as if he wants to see exactly the moment it happens.

 You grip his forearm tightly, “Aemond-I’m-”

 “Fuck I can feel you squeezing me…you gonna cum for me, hm? All over my cock” he breathes.

 You nod desperately, “Yesyes…please…cum inside me-”

 His brow arches smugly at this, a smirk etching on his features, “You want me to fill you up, huh”

 “Gods - yes”

 “Hm” he hums, allowing his large hand to encircle your throat, only barely squeezing, “gonna make you work for it”

 It’s when he squeezes your neck that you shut your eyes, face contorted in pleasure and that coil inside snapping forcefully. You can practically feel the rhythm of your heartbeat through your clit as you let go completely, gripping onto him for dear life. You don’t know what he means by ‘work for it’ but you don’t really care right now. The pleasure comes in waves over your body and Aemond pistons in and out through it, a lazy smile on his face watching you as you orgasm.

 You realise in all this that he’s not stopped. His hips continue to press into you faster and faster, now bullying the overly sensitive spots inside that have been decimated by your climax.

 “Aemond?...” you manage with a breathy moan, quickly feeling overstimulated.

 “Told you I’d make you work for it” he muses, moving his thumb to circle your clit.

 You gasp out, back arching against him as he tries to work yet another orgasm out of you, “I-I can’t-”

 “Give it to me” he orders, all while keeping that breakneck pace as he fucks you, sparking white-hot and borderline unbearable pleasure in two ways against your body. He leans forward to lick a fat stripe up the column of your neck all the way up to your ear and the change in position has his cock once again directly drag against that spot inside, one that makes your eyes shut, face contort and stars begin to appear behind them.

 “Give it to me like the good girl you are” he whispers as he bites down on the skin of your neck, marking you for himself.

 With a strangled cry, you give in, thighs trembling against his muscled sides and you feel another gush of arousal coat his cock by the loud sounds it's still making. He fucks you through this one, his strokes becoming sloppy, and you go limp in his arms feeling that he may also not last much longer.

 “Good girl-fuck” he cums with a shattered moan after that, his head buried into your neck as you feel his hot spend paint your walls, giving a few desperate thrusts until his cock twitches from overstimulation, still seated within you. Still coming down from the two close orgasms he’d given you, you take a moment to come back to earth, eyes cracking open after a while.

 Even with him still inside you, you can feel the combination of his spend and your own arousal leaking out of you, coating your thighs. He pulls his head tiredly from your neck to look at you. And he looks amazing, so blissed out, a bit pink in the face, but there’s a new softness there now where there wasn’t before.

 “Gods, you’re so perfect…”

 You kiss him desperately, not wanting this feeling to end as you both come down from your respective highs. And there’s a part inside of you that is self-conscious that perhaps all he wanted was sex, and that he doesn’t like you at all, so you savour this moment, concerned that after all this…there might be nothing.

 “Go on a date with me…” he says suddenly and you look up at him. For the first time since you’ve known him, he looks nervous, “please…”

 Combined with the thoughts you were just having, his words are so overwhelming that for the time it takes you to think of an answer, you just laugh breathlessly, which makes him arch a confused brow.

 “Date?” you ask, wondering if you’d heard correctly, “not to the gym I hope”

 “No, not at the gym” he laughs, “I…I’d like to get to know you better” he confesses.

 You huff a laugh, “You’re literally inside me right now”

 He lets out his own laugh, and it’s nice to see him genuinely smile, “not like that”

 His chest is still moving with his breathing, still slightly laboured, and your eyes glance over him for a moment, taking him all in. His hair has somewhat come free of his bun, so you tuck a strange behind his ear in a gesture that makes Aemond’s heart squeeze.

 “I’d love to”

 The smile on his face is unmistakable, and not a hint of smugness to it.

 Once he’s pulled his softening cock from your core and you’ve both cleaned yourself up, it overcomes both of you that you can’t keep your hands off each other, can’t spend a moment without lips locked. Everyone’s definitely going to notice.

 “I don’t want to hide it from anyone, if you don’t” you say in a whisper.

 He squeezes your ass lovingly, giving it a playful swat, “I certainly don’t”

 A few hours later, once the sun has started to hit the tops of all the buildings and the sky turns a hazy red with the sunset, you sit beside him, legs dipped in the pool and a shawl pulled around your shoulders from the slight chill. You let your head rest on his shoulder, utterly content as he kisses the crown of your head, in a shockingly loving gesture despite how he was railing you earlier. One strong arm wrapped around your waist.

 “Fuck” you whisper.

 “What” he asks amused.

 “I owe Baela 5 gold dragons”

taglist (sorry if I missed anyone, I’m crap, bold means I couldn’t tag)

@jacevelaryonswife​ @lovelykhaleesiii​@urmomsgirlfriend1@iiamthehybrid​ @namelesslosers​  @chainsawsangel​ @warmfieldofgrass​ @mynameisbaby9​ @afro-hispwriter​ @tempo-rary-fix​ @toodlesxcuddles @definitelynotsatans​ @svtansdaddyx​ @tssf-imagines​ @darkenchantress​ @vrtualfairy​ @fan-goddess​ @skikikikiikhhjuuh​ @helaenaluvr​ @sarahkimtae​ @blackxisxmyxcolour​ @castellomargot​ @girlwith-thepearlearring​ @julczimozart​ @amazingdisneyfansblog​ @slutforaemond@thedamewithabook@Iiamthehybrid@sahvlren@Whoknows333@cosmoeticss

[bbina]

so far the campfire was going well. the sun was setting and everyone was having a great time having conversations with one another. food has been grilled thanks to eunseok and the only thing left to do was to eat.

"thank you for the meal!" you all chorus before diving right into the array of meat and side dishes set up on the table next to the campfire.

after eating dinner and some cleaning up, courtesy of shotaro and wonbin who cleaned the tables and plates as they lost in a game of rock paper scissors on who should be on cleaning duty, it was finally time to make s'mores. everyone stood up and gathered around the table to grab their own servings of ingredients. you accidentally brushed your hands with sungchan when you were about to grab some chocolate. you instantly snatched your hand back and apologized. to which sungchan laughs and hands you the chocolate before returning his attention back to his girlfriend as they go back to their seats in front of the campfire. even offering her jacket right after as it was starting to get chilly out. that sight made your insides turn. with a huff, you go back to your own seat, trying not to make it obvious that you were feeling a bit jealous and upset at the scene of sungchan and his girlfriend doing what couples usually do. the things you thought you'd be doing with sungchan

and so the roasting of marshmallows begins. everyone in their own world as they assemble their s'mores. you laughed at seunghan who accidentally burnt his first mallow, hearing his cries of complaint just made you drop your own s'more from laughing so much. you grumbled as you pick up the now wasted s'more, throwing it to the trash bin before walking back to the table to grab another set of crackers, marshmallows and chocolate til you see sungchan and his girlfriend being sweet by your peripheral vision

you couldn’t take it anymore.

you couldn’t stand watching sungchan and his girlfriend, who he unexpectedly invited to the trip with your friends, do couple-y things in front of you.

when you return back to your seat, you resisted the urge to gag right then and there when they start spooning in front of the campfire while roasting marshmallows.

“aww channie~ you’re so sweet! thank you for making me this smore!” the high pitched voice of sungchan’s girlfriend rang through your ears like nails on a chalkboard. it’s so sickenly sweet that you hated it. you try not to hate her but it was hard. you wish it should’ve been you in that position right now

sungchan used to be the one that made you s'mores. he used to be the one next to you doing everything and anything but now it seems like you’ve been replaced, igniting a surge of jealousy within you.

now that you think about, you had no right to be acting like this over your best friend that now has a lover of their own. you’ve always had a crush on sungchan, who you grew up with alongside eunseok, your brother, who was also sungchan's best friend. sungchan has always treated you like a princess but seeing it happen to someone else in real time, just hurts you in one way or another

the group then all start cooing and teasing the new couple, which just added more salt to your wound.

"sungchan hyung!" seunghan shrieks

"so sweet like this s'more!" sohee gasps in amazement, eyes diverting between his s'more and the couple

“i’ve never seen sungchan act like this” shotaro giggles

“gross.. not in front of my s'mores” anton complains

“i’m proud of you bro” eunseok daps his best friend

sungchan gets flustered with all the teasing and smiles sheepishly, waving his hands. “guys stop you’re making her blush” he pinches his girlfriends cheeks, who was also blushing

without thinking, you burst into laughter, drawing everyone’s attention, including sungchan’s.

“you’re so funny!” you exclaim, slapping the person next to you who happened to be wonbin. he looked at you like you were crazy since he wasn’t even talking in the first place

“what?” wonbin blurts out, an eyebrow raised at your odd behavior towards him. what was so funny?

wonbin was holding what seems to be a s'more (that he just made), without hesitation you swipe the s'more off his hand and ate it shamelessly

“this is delicious, wonbin! thank you!” you chirp, cheeks full. wonbin was flabbergasted by your actions. you ate his perfectly roasted s'more, originally intended for himself. wonbin takes a deep breath, trying to compose himself and mask his annoyance

“what are you–”

you cut him off by shoving your own roasted marshmallow to his mouth. your actions leave wonbin speechless, a mixture of disbelief and irritation flickering across his features. gasps were heard all around the campfire with your sudden actions. you hear wonbin start choking on your marshmallow

“y/n.. what the fuck?” eunseok’s voice cuts through the air, laced with surprise and disbelief. were you and wonbin dating too?

wonbin was about to say something but you beat him to it again

“wow would you look at the time, i’m tired from today’s activities. goodnight everyone” you look at your non existent watch on your wrist before waving goodbye to the rest of the group who look a bit dumbfounded by your sudden exit. when you finally get indoors, you let out a groan when the realization catches up with you.

why the fuck did i do that? you think to yourself, locking yourself inside your room. before you dwell on your actions, you feel your phone vibrate like crazy. the groupchat was going off with what you just did. you then receive a private message from wonbin. you flinched as you read his message,

[8:47 PM] bin 👍: what the fuck was that about???

oh boy, do you have some explaining to do..

between the lines ★ campfire

⤷ from what started as a simple arrangement to hide your feelings for a certain someone by getting into in a fake relationship soon turns into a tangled mess. in which some things are hard to tell when you can’t read between the lines

˗ˏˋ prev | next ˎˊ˗

★ notes .ᐟ and with that littlesuns begins to cook.... shes cooking alright! we’re getting somewhere!

★ taglist .ᐟ @callanton @annswwa @renjuneoo @pinkraindropsfell @lecheugo @ilovejungwonandhaechan @ahnneyong @haechansbbg @snowyseungs @sseastar-main @odxrilove @leeknowarchives @onlywonb @leehanascent @wonychu @jaeyunsb

[legitalicat]

Out of Time

Chapter 5 - "Oh Brother, I've Returned"

an: While it does not fit this chapter entirely, I listened to "Brother" by Madds Buckley a lot during this chapter. As an older sister who moved out when my younger sibling was under 10, I feel the guilt of being gone while your siblings grow up without you. I highly recommend that song.

If you love this header go check out zaldritzosrose for more amazing work! She is tagged on the series masterlist and on my welcome post!

Find the series Master list here!

Summary: "It is not a ridiculous notion to fear what we do not know. Yet you cannot let your fears keep you from them."

TW: Anxiety, profanity, angst, dead daddy issues, literal bone crushing hugs, substance use, fear of addiction, detailed descriptions of Viserys I death, descriptions of severe pain, Vizzy is not a good parent, Aemond and Jace making a scene at dinner AGAIN, very large and physically intimidating men, Jaehaerys being very much a brother, Joffrey and Luke being little shithead brothers,

Romantic Pairings: Very brief focus on Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!Reader, Very brief focus on Jacaerys Velaryon x Twin!Reader, Aegon Targaryen ii x Velaryon!Reader.

Other characters shining in this chapter: Ser Erryk, Jaehaera Targaryen, Lucerys Velaryon, Joffrey Velaryon, Aegon iii, Viserys Targaryen ii, Rhaenyra Targaryen, Alicent Hightower

Word count: 6.6k (oops)

The fuzzy feelings disappeared by late afternoon. A bright side was that I was absolutely starving when dinner time came. When I stood from my bed, I found I still had no pain. It was great to be able to walk across the room in less than five minutes.

I met Ser Erryk just outside my room. He greeted me as he always did, cheerful and just seemingly grateful. He spoke to me of the apparent menu for the night. We were to have braised goose with roasted chestnuts and cabbage.

“You like goose?” I asked him as we walked.

“I do, princess. It is greasy, so unappealing to some. I believe your mother is among them,” he said, smiling at me.

“It was a joke of sorts, between her and my father. A discussion they had before they were married. She likes to have it every so often as a way to remember him,” I told him.

It was true enough. The reason why Ser Laenor was who claimed us was apparent to me when I thought of him. He was never without the company of a male companion. When we first went to Dragonstone, he brought a young knight. Joffrey is named after a knight he knew in his youth, whose death devastated him in unimaginable ways. He loved them both deeply and in a way he could never love Mother.

It was known to her before they married, so when she spoke to him of the marriage, she assured him it would not impose on his life. She equated it to taste, saying like her, he preferred roast duck to goose. There was nothing wrong with that. Some people just like things and that was that.

After his death, I found Mother would request goose for our dinner. When I pointed out that he had never picked it out himself, she told me that was the point. The goose was meant to represent their effort in marriage, and for her it was a way to honor him. She had so much love for him, and he for her, even if it was not the type of love she shared with my blood father or even Daemon.

I truly believe they were soulmates. Most believed that soulmates were romantic, that it always ended with love and sex and all those things that made people gooey inside. There was not a person alive, though, that could convince me Mother and Laenor did not belong together in life even though they were not in love. You cannot have a best friend like that and tell me that the gods did not design you for that person.

Often I think how there was nobody better than Laenor to have been with her. Yes, my father and her loved one another in a way most wouldn’t understand. Yes, Daemon seems an equal match for her now. And yes, Laenor had loved his male companions the way he perhaps should’ve loved the one he married. But they understood each other on a fundamental level. They never begrudged one another, never showed anything to us that wasn’t pure love and respect for not only us but one another. Even if it were not romantic love, they were made to love each other.

“Ser Laenor was a good man. I think he would be proud of who you are,” he told me. “I truly believe that.”

Sometimes I didn’t know how to feel about Ser Laenor. He was not my blood. His opinions on me truly held no bearing in the grand scheme of things, as he was never who I had to impress. My inheritance would’ve never come from him.

But anytime I heard he would be proud of me, I wanted to beg for more. Blood or not he was my father. He was the man who claimed me. He loved me. How could I not want him to be proud of me?

“Thank you, Ser Erryk. I appreciate it,” I whispered, trying to not let my voice crack under the emotion.

We continued walking along without speaking any further. I could hear music and laughter as we approached the Small Hall. Don’t let the name fool you, though. Located in the Tower of the Hand, it had to be smaller than the Great Hall where the Throne sat, but this hall still held over two hundred people if so desired. With a family so large, it made sense to have our dinners here.

Erryk went to open the door but I reached out my hand to grab his before he could. The sounds of the ones I love being happy on the other side of this door terrified me. We were all mostly happy that night, the night I disappeared. At least we were for a moment in time.

My finger tips went numb and my bottom lip was trembling. It had been hard enough just being alone with those I’ve had time with already. But to see all of them, all at once, felt like it was an impossible task.

I had yet to speak to any of my brothers other than Jace. Trying to face the very distinct possibility of Little Aegon and Viserys disliking me felt like my stomach was being tied in knots. Joffrey was fourteen now, what if he didn’t like me either? Or if Luke was angry with me, somehow blaming me for being gone, I don’t think I could take it.

So much time had been lost. I was newly eighteen when I disappeared, now Jace and I were fast approaching twenty four. Aemond had been nineteen, Helaena twenty, Aegon twenty two, and Luke just fifteen. We all had so much time together. But Joffrey had only been nine, Little Aegon four, and Viserys only two. I had missed such a grand portion of their lives, even more when thinking of the year I was in King’s Landing beforehand, I didn’t think I could fit.

“We can go back if you wish,” Erryk said quietly to me. “I will make some excuse as to why you remain in your rooms. They needn’t know.”

“What kind of person is scared of their family for no reason?” I whispered to him, looking at him as a tear slowly rolled down my cheek.

It would maybe make sense if they had been terrible to me. But even the worst among them treated me as though I was golden. Alicent, who had undoubtedly been abhorrent to Mother and my brothers to the point she demanded all of us be brought to her when Mother was fresh from her labors, had loved me. I could distinctly remember sitting on her lap as a small child while my grandsire told Jace and I about the Kingdoms the would one day be ours.

“The first time Arryk and I went home after we were appointed to the Kingsguard, I was certain our parents would shut the door in our face,” he told me. “How could they not? I mean we were the only two heirs to our house and we both took an oath that forbade us from having lands, having a wife, having children. We effectively ended our house with us. But all our parents cared about was that we were happy and safe. It is not a ridiculous notion to fear what we do not know. Yet you cannot let your fears keep you from them.”

I could not look him in the eye. Part of me was so ashamed to feel as scared that I did. To me, it was a ridiculous notion. I’m the blood of the dragon, how could I fear anything?

He put his other hand over top mine, that still held onto him like my life depended on it. That was what let me meet his gaze. He truly looked at me with nothing but kindness in his eyes.

“When you were a girl, it is not that you were fearless. It is that you have always loved so fiercely your own fears did not stop you. When you sabotaged the soil stores so that the garden bugs would not die, you faced your mother, Queen Alicent, and your grandsire with tears in your eyes. You were scared of being in trouble, of having done something wrong. Even so, you held Helaena’s hand and explained why you did it. The night of Aemond’s injury, you were scared to anger everyone in explaining what happened. Yet, what mattered to you was the truth and so you told the truth,” he explained to me. “I offer again that I can take you back to your room and I will tell them you were not feeling well.”

The faith he had in the person I am felt comforting. At least there was one person who knew truly who I am. He had no reason to make me fit a certain mold. It was not like with Aemond or Jace in which he needed me to be this perfect representation of a person. He did not need me to understand the darkest parts of him like Aegon did. It was truly like he was a friend.

“Do not stray far from me,” I said quietly to him.

Releasing his hand, I stood straight and readied myself. He opened the door and stood to the side.

When I stepped into the room, for a moment nobody really noticed me and I just got to watch. Viserys, Little Aegon, and Maelor were all running around the room in a game. Mother and Alicent were speaking to one another, smiling. Jaehaerys and Jaehaera were animatedly discussing something with Aemond and Helaena. Luke, Jace, and Aegon were all hunched over the table as they laughed about something. Joffrey was in the corner of the room sneaking a little cake.

They were all so happy. Was this truly what it was like all the time now? Had the wounds of the past been so forgotten we could live like this?

Surprisingly, the first to notice me was Jaehaera. She very obviously lit up upon seeing me and got up from her chair near immediately. Wasting no time, she went to the empty chair in between Mother and Alicent and grabbed a bouquet of flowers that had sat in it. It was then others took notice of her movements and all their eyes shifted from her to me.

When I began feeling the fear bubbling up inside me again and my fingertips once again felt numb, I just focused on Jaehaera. This little girl who was so happy when she noticed me, a little girl I adored so much, was now running to me with these flowers in her hand. They were a pretty assortment, consisting peonies, tulips, and lilies.

“Mumma says you like flowers so I picked the prettiest ones,” she said happily when she stopped in front of me. She very proudly held out her bouquet so that I could admire her work.

I smiled softly at Jaehaera as tears welled up in my eyes. “They are lovely, thank you little one,” I said in a voice that was barely above a whisper. Carefully I took the bouquet from her and held it in my hands.

They were not flawless flowers. One of the peonies had not fully bloomed while another had already begun to lose its petals. The lilies had been slightly crushed against the weight of the other flowers. I noticed the tulips had little teeny insects crawling around on them, which Helaena and her children no doubt saw as an added benefit, and as such there were teeny holes in some of the petals. But there was not enough gold in the world that could convince me to rid myself of this bouquet. Despite the flaws, I could not think of it as anything less than perfect. Erryk took them in his own hand before he arranged for a serving girl to take them to my room and put them in water.

She took my hand in hers and began pulling me along to the table. Even in her excitement, she also seemed to be careful with me like everyone else had been.

“Do you want to sit next to me??” Jaehaerys said loudly when I was in arms reach of the table. It caused Jaehaera to stop her path, therefore stopping me.

“Inside voice, bubba,” Jaehaera said softly to him before looking at me. “Excuse him. He forgets we all have ears.”

“That’s okay, Luke was like that too when he was little,” I said to her. It caused them both to grin from ear to ear.

“Did you hear that Jae Jae? I’m like Luke,” he said, noticeably quieter this time, but just as excitedly.

“I am just glad someone else knows about brothers,” Jaehaera said with a giggle.

“I would like to point out that I had no choice but to be loud to make sure I was heard over Jace’s big mouth,” Luke said as he stood from his seat.

When Luke stood I realized he was taller than me. Not near as tall as Aegon, but a noticeable few inches. It caused a great stirring of emotions in my chest. I had anticipated my brothers growing taller than me, in fact it surprised me that Jace was only my height and not taller. Yet, not being here to notice it happening caused an ache.

Especially with Luke. He was only three years younger than me, so I did not remember his birth or his little years quite like I remembered Joffrey’s, Little Aegon’s, or Viserys’. That didn’t keep me from remembering bits and pieces, though. Like, I used to help Mother pick out the clothes he wore as a baby as though he was a doll. I snuck out of bed one night when he was a newborn so that I could sleep next to his cradle. I could remember the first time he got sick and, instead of going to Mother and Laenor, he crawled into bed between Jace and I and leaked snot all over my chest.

The bad parts, the good parts, all of it was not something I would trade for the world. Despite having more conscious thoughts when the younger three were babies, Luke was my baby. To me there was nobody better. He was as good and pure as a person could get. If Mother thought I was the best parts of both my fathers, Luke was the best parts of me. He was every good thing in this world rolled into the sweetest package.

“Now you can’t hold sweets over my head and keep me from getting them,” he said playfully.

“No, but I can still sit on your head until you cry,” I responded. My own ear to ear grin spread across my face. I did not care that it hurt my lip as the skin stretched. Luke was worth it.

“I cried one time! You were crushing my ear!” he defended adamantly.

“I maintain to this day that you should not have taken my book,” I told him with a shrug.

“Hadn’t he already handed it back to you when you sat on him?” Jace asked me.

“I don’t recall asking for your input, Jace,” I said quickly causing Luke to laugh.

Luke was truly a man now. His laugh was deeper, as was his voice. He was twenty now and by no means could he be confused as a child.

He wrapped his arms around me in a near bone crushing hug. Even with the pain shooting through my ribs, I could not ask him to ease up. The world felt right the moment he hugged me. Like the years had not passed without me.

I noticed he smelled like the sea. Salt water and open sky, with just a trace of the smell of the wood the ships were made of. If I had to guess, he spent a lot of time in Driftmark now, preparing himself for when Grandsire Corlys was no longer able to hold the Driftwood Throne. When he was little and we suffered the loss of both Ser Harwin and our Aunt Laena, he feared becoming Lord of Driftmark as he knew the death that would precede that moment. If he had been able to move past that fear, I was grateful.

“Are you a sailor now?” I asked as I pulled back from him.

“Only sometimes. Grandsire has spent two years teaching me how to,” he answered. He had a shy, goofy little smile on his face.

“And I would imagine he regales you with stories of the Velaryon blood ruling the seas every moment of it,” I joked.

“Would he be him if he weren’t the proudest man alive?” he asked.

My three Velaryon brothers and Mother all chuckled at that. Genuinely speaking I could not think of a prouder man alive. Our grandfather had held House Velaryon miles above any house, including Targaryens. I think it was because the Targaryens were dragonlords making him think we were handed power, whereas Velaryons seemed to build everything themselves. There was a pride to be held in that, of course. But Westeros was not conquered by shipmasters, now was it?

With this laughter, I took a moment to look around, turning around the room, and settling to look at Joffrey. Fourteen certainly was not the age of a man but compared to the nine year old I left behind he might as well have been. My little Joffrey, whose birth was the first I truly remember, making the three of us older ones so excited. We were downright annoying when it came to him.

Jace had decided we needed to pick the egg for him ourselves. Without uttering a word to anyone, we snuck away from the dragonkeeper charged in teaching us our lesson that day and delved far into the Dragonpit. Luke excitedly picked the egg from one of Syrax’s clutches. As the three of us had been given one, with only mine not hatching, we had to give the baby an egg that came from Mother’s dragon. Our father found us as we were trying to carry the red hot cauldron to the Keep. With his help, and the enlisted help of a few keepers, we awaited the arrival of the baby eagerly.

We took turns stoking the flames underneath it to keep it warm while we waited for Mother. And when she returned, followed closely by Laenor with the baby boy in hand, Luke and Jace both desperately wanted to get close to him. Laenor and father had to practically bat them away so that our baby brother could meet our father.

For myself, I can only remember looking at my perfect family. While in that moment I had not been told the truth of my birth, I knew. It was not so much a moment of realization that none of my brothers or I looked like Laenor, instead favoring Mother’s sworn shield. It was not even hearing the rumors and embodying them as a sort of self fulfilling prophecy. No, all it took was me seeing how Laenor yielded in that moment to Harwin and seeing the way this mountain of a man became so soft when gazing upon Joffrey for me to know. He was a man who was granted love in undeniable ways and he was a part of our family.

Joffrey looked the most like our father. The four of us all had his hair color and his complexion, of course. Jace and I got his eyes, according to Mother, and I could agree. The colors were the same on all four of us, yet we got the shape. I could see on Jace the little crinkles in the corners that our father had. Luke had his smile to the point that when our father died, I desperately worked to make Luke smile for days so that I could feel the embrace of the man who created me. Yet Joffrey had it all. His eyes, his nose, his smile, even the height and bulk of him. There were traces of Mother, like in the angles of his jawline or the placement of his cheekbones. But one could be forgiven if they thought Harwin Strong walked the halls of the Red Keep again when seeing Joffrey.

How cruelly ironic. The one who only got a few meetings with our father was the one who looked to be a trueborn Strong and not the dirty little secret I always felt like. The one who would never know our father or Laenor and the way they both loved us, who was robbed of the perfect family I loved so much, was everything I begged to be. A perfect embodiment of the father I prayed returned to me sat before me in the form of the last of his children.

“Joffrey, I believe Y/N would appreciate if you could come closer,” Aemond’s voice said from somewhere out of my view. I believed he may be behind me, with Jaehaera on my left and Luke still to my right. I could not be bothered to check.

Joffrey nodded and placed the sweet down on a nearby table before walking closer to me. He wiped his hands against his pants, highlighting to me that he was wearing Targaryen colors of black and not Velaryon ones. I could see the crumbs fall to the floor as he walked. It was almost enough to make me laugh.

“Have you been so short your entire life?” he asked when he stood in front of me. He was taller than Aemond even, wider around the middle, broader along the shoulders than Jace. It was terrifying when one realized most of that was probably muscle, and most likely he had more growing to do.

“I would like to point out I am perfectly normal height,” I said, huffing a bit. “You are just tall.”

“To you. To me, you are short. Perspective, sissy,” he said.

My heart caught in my throat. It wasn’t that I had anticipated him to forget me or all the time I had spent teaching him of the world. But hearing him call me sissy and confirming that I still had a place in his heart made my own ache in unexpected ways.

Wrapping my arms around his middle, I pulled him into a tight hug. It was a hug he returned eagerly, holding me as tight as I held him. Just as with Luke, I couldn’t be bothered to care about any of the pain coursing through my body.

Luke and Joffrey had so much of me in them. Luke was my baby and Joffrey was my sidekick. Where one clung to me the other did just the same. For the longest time you could not find me without them. I did everything for them to ensure their lives. Luke and I spent hours just standing on the deck of our ship so that I could help him overcome his fear of the sea. I was the one who taught Joffrey to read, and then taught him as much as I could of politics and history. Both of them spent so much time with me in the gardens of Dragonstone as I tended to the flowers.

When I finally convinced myself that I could let go without him disappearing, I pulled away from his hold. Concern drew itself onto his face. If the empty yet extraordinarily heavy feeling in my head and the fire spreading through my chest had caused me to look as I felt in this moment, I would imagine I’d look much the same as he did. In truth I could not care to look at everyone else. Leaning forward to lean against Joffrey, I tried to steady my breathing.

“Let’s sit you down,” Luke whispered from behind me. I can only assume I nodded as he and Joffrey both supported me to sit me in the chair between Alicent and Mother. The last note of music that filled the room just moments ago echoed from every wall before the room fell into silence.

“Y/N, you mustn’t overdo it, sweet girl,” Mother said quietly, pressing a cooled rag to my head.

“I couldn’t tell them to stop, mama. My babies still love me,” I whispered to her, gripping her wrist to still her hand. The suddenness of my movement caused me a blinding flash of burning pain.

“Perhaps we should order some milk of the poppy,” Alicent suggested, looking between Mother and me.

“No, no,” I begged her, tears springing to my eyes.

Let me be clear and say I understand the benefits of the medicine. It is extremely effective in easing pain and in large enough quantities, could incapacitate an entire Dothraki horde. Though I dare anyone to watch their grandfather wither to be but a living, skin covered skeleton and he can’t even acknowledge his breathing because he is so addled by the shit.

I am not stupid enough to think back on his life and legacy and think him a good King nor even a good father. But I do know, factually know, that he was a man who loved his family dearly. A man who was taken advantage of in his deepest grief and never fixed the mistakes made in those times. A man who deserved more than to die so slowly while his brain, his very capable and beautiful brain, wasted away because of the only treatment for his pain.

When you watch a man go from being able to tell you about the Kingdom he loves, that one day you will rule, to not even being able to remember your existence, it changes things. When you watch him become so frail and thin that being turned the wrong way breaks his bones, yet remain so puffy under the eye and in his fingertips because of the poison, you may refuse it too. His younger children may not have cared, of that I will not speak on. But I cared, and it terrified me.

Would he have been in so much pain constantly if he hadn’t taken it so regularly? What if he was being treated for an ailment that was caused by milk of the poppy? And if that was true, how much would it take before I could not exist without it?

“Y/N, you cannot live in this pain,” Mother said to me.

“I cannot live like that,” I corrected her.

“Your grandsire was very sick for a long time, you will heal in mere weeks. But you cannot heal if you live in this pain,” Alicent said. Her voice was just as quiet and soothing as Mother’s as she petted my hair.

Very slowly, I adjusted my body in my chair to look to Aegon. He was watching me with silent tears in his eyes. But when our wet gazes locked together he understood what I needed. He did not need anything else from me. He understood my pain as I did his.

After pushing himself to a stand from his seat, he wasted no time in getting to my side. All the while he was reaching in his sleeve to pull out the pouch with the biscuits. Within a moment he was by my side, kneeling to be able to look up at my face.

“Stars?” he asked me. It took me less than half a breath to know he was asking how severe my pain, if it was enough to make me see stars. He knew it went beyond feeling knives in my body but he could not tell further.

“Lightning,” I muttered to him.

He had once theorized the lightning that extended from the sky during the worst of storms would be the most painful thing to be hit by. It was on a late night adventure, one that quickly turned into a two day adventure, that he had dragged me on not long before I had Vhaela. We mounted Sunfyre together and flew to Harrenhal. Quick enough flying on Sunfyre, though it took nearly all night. When we had arrived, a storm had come overhead, and we watched as lightning struck the large castle no less than three times. The stone was surprisingly mostly unscathed, save for the burn marks permanently etched on its side. When we spoke of a human withstanding just one strike, he said you’d nearly die from the pain alone.

It was how I knew he would understand. This was not the pain I experienced falling from my bed when I was six. This was a burning, pulsating pain that caused me to lose parts of my sight. A pain so severe I could not breathe properly.

He helped me eat a significant bit more than what I had earlier. Mainly because every time I moved myself I was hit with another flash of pain. It was just easier to allow his help.

“The larger portion may not quicken the effects but it will help manage your pain better,” he said quietly to me. “Tell me what I can do in the meanwhile.”

“Stay right here and have everyone return to their joy,” I whispered to him as I took his hand. “At the least I wish to see everyone smile.”

He nodded softly and looked to Alicent. Within a few minutes, the music started back up and not long after that the chatter started up again. I would have to be oblivious to not notice the worried looks Mother and Alicent still gave me. Though those looks were nothing compared to the way Aemond and Jace were glaring at Aegon.

Genuinely speaking, it was a lot like watching children. It was as though Aemond and Jace had never once considered that anyone else would want to play their game. They only considered each other and knew what to expect from them. But now they viewed Aegon as a competitor.

Was Aegon a competitor? Sure he had said earlier how he loved me, that I was the only woman he loved. But he did not put his hand forward. He did not express a desire to be with me despite the love he held for me. I could no more count him as a contender for my heart as I could Ser Erryk.

Where Aemond and Jace looked on at him in anger, Aegon paid no mind. His eyes were focused solely on me. And every time I met his gaze, I gave him a small squeeze in the hand.

Six songs passed before I felt any relief. At first it wasn’t noticed until I could take a full breath. It was when I turned my head to watch as the food was brought in that it became clear that I could now manage. It seemed it became clear to Aegon, too, as he left my side and took his place back across from Luke.

Luke, Jace, and Aegon took the seats on the end of the table nearest the windows. Luke and Aegon on the very end, Jace beside Aegon. Joffrey took a spot next to Luke. Then beside Joffrey sat Aemond, and beside Jace there was Helaena. Next to Aemond was Alicent, with Jaehaera across from her. Then you had me and I was sat across from Jaehaerys. To my right was Mother, and across from her sat Maelor. There was two empty seats on Mother’s other side, and across from them was Little Aegon and Viserys. Then a singular chair that looked down the whole of the table sat on the very end, also empty, and that was closest to the kitchen.

Alicent lead us all in prayer. Truthfully, I probably should’ve paid more mind to the words she was saying. It mattered a lot to her, Helaena, and even Aemond. Yet, when I looked down the table and saw Aegon watching my every move, every thought from my head left. So instead, I looked directly at my plate.

The juices that flowed from the goose glistened in the candlelight that danced against every surface in stunning opposition to how the dark gravy absorbed light. The cabbage and roasted chestnuts sat to the side of it, looking decently appealing on their own. There was a basket of bread placed down for every four people. All of the adults, save Aegon and I, had a large cup of wine sitting in front of them. If Aegon and the children had the same as me, we all had water. Once Alicent was done saying her prayers, the only sound to be heard was all of us eating our food.

It was delicious. Though it was not a surprise to me, as the cooks here in King’s Landing had always been phenomenal. Maybe it was the fuzziness in my head that made it more apparent. Yet, it seemed more complex than normal. The meat was almost sweeter, the gravy with a level of saltiness that counteracted it perfectly. The chestnuts were almost like velvet in my mouth, creating a feeling akin to butter. Even cabbage, that I normally did not like, was something I would pick again and again.

“Did you try to come back?” A small voice asked. I looked up, only to see Viserys staring at me.

“Viserys,” Mother said firmly. It was her warning tone. Perhaps she did not think it proper for him to question me.

“I can’t remember,” I said quietly. “But I cannot imagine a reality in which I did not fight to return back to you all.”

“Is that why you are all beat up?” Little Aegon asked me.

“Aegon,” Mother said with the same firmness. I reached to take her hand in mine and gave it a small squeeze. She needed to understand that they were allowed to ask me, I could not fault them for being confused.

“Possibly. But I do not remember,” I told him.

“Do you remember anything?” they both asked at the same time.

“Not from when I was gone, no,” I whispered. “But I remember before I was gone. I remember loving the two of you so much. I am sorry I disappeared, and I am sorry that you both grew up without me.”

All of that was mostly true. I hated my disappearance, as it did take me away from everyone I loved. Yet to say I do not remember anything from the time I was gone may not be true.

In my thoughts, I could wade through the fog that the biscuit causes. Only in this feeling did I get any information from my brain. When I tried desperately to remember the last five years, there were only two things that my mind could conjure up. A glowing vial of shimmering red fire that I am near certain was a potion swirled in and out of my mind’s eye. And there was a distinct feeling loneliness, of knowing that where I existed was not where I belonged.

The shade of red of the potion was eerily familiar. While equating it to fire would be the right way to imagine the way that the liquid flowed, it was poor in grasping the color. One could tell me that someone was able to melt rubies into this vial and I would believe them. That was the only physical thing that was colored correctly.

Until I could explain more or had more answers, I would not say anything. With how desperate Mother and Aemond were for vengeance, giving them half answers could cause more damage that it would repair. It was not worth it.

“Do you want to come to our dragon lessons tomorrow?” Little Aegon asked.

Unable to verbalize my answer, I nodded. Spending time with my two littlest brothers felt like exactly what I needed. They may not be quite sure about me at all, but they were willing to give me a chance. I suppose that is all I could ask for.

The sound of a chair scraping against the stone floor brought my attention to the left side of the table. Aemond stood with his cup raised. My jaw tightened. The last time he gave a toast, he managed to call my brothers bastards while ignoring that it meant I too was a bastard. It caused a fight to break out, with Jace punching Aemond and Aegon slamming Luke into the table. I was not wanting a repeat and I doubt anyone else did.

“A toast,” Aemond said. “To the return of Ali. The Keep had truly existed in a darkness without you.”

A heat rose to my cheeks with his words. It was tame, I suppose, with what he could say. Although, I do wish he would just have not brought any further attention to me. I don’t think I would be able to say anything to him though.

“I wish to take this moment to make it clear,” he said. As always there was a confidence he held that I couldn’t shake. “Byka zaldrīzes, no longer do I wish to hide my affections. It is here and now that I am declaring my intention to marry you.”

My heart started skipping beats. While he had said it aloud to me, he had not voiced it to anyone else. And it wasn’t entirely like it was a secret, as he had always been rather obvious. With this declaration there was no longer a doubt about where I stood with him.

Jace stood up quickly, slamming his hands on the table as he did so. “She is my twin, Aemond, my betrothed. You do not get to decide such a thing,” he said angrily.

Aegon grabbed Jace’s shoulder and pulled him back into a sitting position. I was aware of Aemond smirking as he watched Jace. Leave it to him to make this a little game, a game which he is certain he will win.

“It is not your decision, either,” Aegon told him as though he were spitting poison at him. My jaw dropped slightly. It was not usual that I saw him actually angry.

“And you think you get any say?” Aemond asked his older brother.

“I think the two of you are so focused on this pissing contest that’s been going on since we were children you fail to realize that she is hurt,” Aegon shouted, standing up. Despite being shorter than Aemond and not as broad as Jace, he somehow made himself look larger. He made himself an unmoving force.

“I better than anyone know that she is hurt,” Aemond said darkly, to which Jace voiced the same sentiment.

“Are you both so truly lost in your desires that you are ignoring the anguish she is in? She caused herself so much pain she was barely conscious just so she could feel as though she still has a place! Do not pretend this is about anyone other than the two of you,” Aegon shouted.

“And what of you? What is your plan, dear brother?” Aemond asked, moving himself to appear larger.

The difference between them in this moment was fascinating. Aemond wanted to prove his dominance. He felt he had some claim to me just because of the love he and I share. With Aegon, though, it was because he wanted to prove nothing more than he was capable of protecting me.

Aegon turned to look at me. I could see him ease up almost immediately. It was like just the sight of me was enough to calm him.

“I am here however you choose to have me,” he said softly, addressing me directly.

[pikapeppa]

Rolan/Tav romance: Someone Great

In sum: a friends-to-lovers Rolan/f!Tav fic from Rolan's POV, with eventual rated E smut and mild angst with a happy ending.

Current word count: 36k words across 4 chapters, likely 7 in total.

First chapter (prologue) is below; you can find the rest here on AO3. ❤

************

For as long as Rolan could remember, what he wanted most in the world was to be a great wizard.

It started when he was eight, with a dusty and faded book he found under a bed while his mother was cleaning someone’s house. He brought the book home with them that day; it didn’t look like anyone wanted it, and Rolan had never heard of ‘transmutation’ before, and it sounded neat. His mother threw the fit of all fits when she realized that he’d stolen from a client, but she allowed him to keep the book — it wasn’t like she could return it without looking like a bloody thief, she complained — and as Rolan painstakingly worked his way through the tome, he realized what he wanted to be when he grew up: he wanted to be a wizard. Not just any wizard, but a wizard great enough to perform every single spell in this book. He wanted to be able to pull on the Weave with the ease of tugging a loose thread on the cuff of a shirt. He wanted to be able to do amazing feats of magic, amazing enough that Mother wouldn’t be so mad at him anymore.

So he started learning. He read that book cover to cover until he had most of it memorized. He practiced from it faithfully, working his way from the easy spells to the trickier ones. And on the day when he succeeded at turning a jug of water into wine, the smile on his mother’s face made it clear that this was his destiny. He was meant to be a great wizard, a wizard whose feats of magic made him useful and impressive, and from that moment on, he knew that a great wizard was exactly what he was meant to be.

Then Mother disappeared.

Rolan never did find out what happened to her, exactly. Ran away because she got sick of him, the kids at school would say, but he overheard a couple of the teachers whispering a rumour that her body was found in the alley next to a pub in the Dock District. Either way, Mother was gone, Mister Matheson who owned the house said Rolan couldn’t live there anymore, and all he had was that book. That book of magic, the book that he believed would lead him to greatness: it became the only thing standing between him and starvation.

Instead of practicing the more complicated spells after school, he used the simpler ones to put on street-shows for coin, and he used the coin he got to fill his belly as best as he could. As he sat on the curb eating runny vegetable soup and scraps of bread, he would remind himself that one day, when he was grown, he would be great. He would learn every spell in his book of transmutation, and he would find the best archmage in the city and become their apprentice. And then, with a real teacher to look after him and a whole entire library at his disposal, he would become the great wizard he was meant to be — great enough to prove to this whole city that he was more than just a show-offy street rat with a few cute tricks up his sleeve.

Then he met Cal and Lia.

He was ten when it happened. They were new to Elturel, and they loved his magic show. Little Cal gasped with delight and clapped at his every trick, and Lia beamed at him and called for an encore when his show was done. At the end of the show, they gave him enough coin that he was able to buy some stew with actual meat in it, and when he curled up in an alley with his threadbare blanket that night, his stomach wasn’t cramping with hunger for once.

The next day, Cal and Lia came back to see his show again, and they brought their mother Lana with them. Lana gave him so much coin that he was able to treat himself to a roast chicken dinner that night, complete with mashed potatoes and roasted vegetables and a loaf of fresh-baked bread: a meal so rich that he threw up half of it within ten minutes of scarfing it down.

The day after that, they came to see his show again, and Lana asked if he wanted to join them for dinner at their house that night. Despite his nagging feeling of too-good-to-be-true, he cautiously agreed. The shepherd’s pie Lana made was the best food he had ever eaten in his life, and the grown-up’s sweater they lent him was the coziest thing he’d ever worn. And right there, at the dinner table, with a full belly and Cal and Lia chattering beside him, Rolan fell asleep.

The visits went on like this for some time: daily visits from Lana and Lia and Cal followed by dinners at their home, which became the shining moments of his days. Then, after a few weeks, something wonderful happened: Lana invited him to come home with them and stay.

For the first time in over a year, Rolan had a home — a new home and a family, a mum and a brother and sister. And he knew why he’d been gifted with these things: it was because he had the makings of a great wizard. He was talented and bright, smart enough to manipulate the Weave with only the guidance of his treasured book of transmutation, and that was why they’d taken him in. That was why Cal and Lia liked him, and that was why Lana — Mum — had invited him to stay. They could see that he was going to be great, and there was no way he was going to disappoint them by being anything less. He would be a great wizard someday, as great as Elminster himself, and he would prove to them that they hadn’t made a mistake by bringing him home and calling him ‘big brother’ and ‘son’.

So he kept learning magic. He studied on his own after school, buying more books of magic over the years and memorizing them and mastering their techniques. He researched the most famous archmages alive and decided that Lorroakan would be the ideal fit for a mentor, and he wrote Lorroakan several careful letters listing his achievements and requesting the chance to become an apprentice. He practiced his spellcasting in his spare time, abjuring and evoking and enchanting in private and showing off the flashier spells for Cal and Lia and Mum. And when Cal gasped in delight and clapped, when Lia smiled and asked for an encore, when Mum hugged him and kissed his forehead and told him she was proud, he knew he was on the right track. He was talented and special, well on his way to becoming the great wizard that his family expected him to be, and nothing was going to get in the way of his goals.

Then Mum died.

He was eighteen when it happened. Within a week of her passing, their landlord, Madame Giselle, threatened to evict them if they couldn’t make the rent, and Rolan refused to let that happen. Cal was only twelve, a mere two years older than Rolan when he’d lost his mother, and Rolan refused to see him sleeping on the street like he’d once done. Lia was fourteen, just barely old enough to leave school and start working, but Rolan refused to let her give up her education at such a young age. And so, with no small amount of bitterness, he left his last year of school and put his magical studies aside, and he found a job instead.

He went to work at a tailor’s shop, offering his magical talents for the petty purposes of sewing perfect straight seams in a fraction of the time. As he sewed seams and ironed pleats and cut lengths of fabric into the shapes of fabulous robes that he couldn’t afford, he fantasized about how someday, he would be great. He was talented and smart, a self-made wizard who had already mastered the contents of two dozen books on evocation and transmutation and even the trickier discipline of conjuration, and when the great Lorroakan finally recognized his talents, Rolan would have the tutelage and the opportunity to become a great wizard, too. He would become famous for his talents, a wizard of wide renown with such skills that people would pay thousands of gold for his magical solutions to the most esoteric problems. He would use his fortune and power to buy his family a house, a huge incredible house with three big bedrooms and all the best furnishings, and Cal and Lia would never have to worry about going homeless or hungry ever again.

Years went by. Cal and Lia finished school and started working, and Lia told Rolan to stop working and go back to his studies so he would stop moaning about being a great wizard every single day. But Rolan couldn’t just stop working. Costs of living were going up every year, and even with all three of them working, they were just making enough to be comfortable. If Rolan quit his job, they would barely make ends meet, and he refused to see Cal and Lia struggle like he once had. He was responsible for them, for making sure they had the life they would’ve had if Mum was still with them, and he couldn’t just stop working altogether, even though his job was a bloody waste of time that took him away from what really mattered: his magical studies.

After months of arguing with Lia and cajoling from Cal, Rolan finally agreed to taking one day off per week. And with the boon of that spare day, he was able to think again about his great purpose in life. He took up his self-studies once more and made inroads on the tomes he’d been forced to put aside when Mum died. He wrote to Lorroakan again and requested the chance for an apprenticeship. He kept working at the damned tailor’s shop, but for the first time in almost ten years, he had hope — real, tangible hope that he could get back on track to becoming what he was always meant to be: a great wizard who got the recognition he deserved for how talented and brilliant he was, and who could use those talents and brilliance to make sure Cal and Lia had everything they ever wanted.

Finally, when he was twenty-eight, Rolan finally got the chance he’d deserved all this time: Lorroakan wrote him back and offered him an apprenticeship. That night when Cal and Lia got home from work, he told them the incredible news, and over a celebratory meal and a couple bottles of wine, they started making plans to move to Baldur’s Gate within the month.

Then Elturel fell into Avernus, and everything literally went to hell.

Their house was destroyed in the fall, and they lost nearly everything, including Rolan’s treasured library of magic tomes. Their neighbours turned on them, calling them devilspawn and refusing them shelter, and it was all Rolan could do to use arcane shields and mage-armour and invisibility spells to get them out of Elturel alive. They ran into Zevlor, who was leading a bunch of refugees to Baldur’s Gate for a fresh start, and through chance and lack of choice, they ended up travelling with them on the way to Baldur’s Gate.

But things went from bad to worse. News trickled in about some bloody goblin army, and when they ran afoul of a scouting party of goblins, they had to beg for refuge at the Emerald Grove. The archdruid Halsin immediately gave them shelter, but then Halsin went off on some quest or other and didn’t come back, and the druids’ second-in-command Kagha started threatening to throw them out.

Rolan was furious. Just when things were starting to look up for him, just when things were starting to finally look like he could give Cal and Lia the life they deserved, things had to go to shit. He had an apprenticeship to get to, a fucking life that he’d been aiming for since he was eight years old and that he’d been forced to put off time and time again, and he was not going to let a bunch of bloody goblins get in his way of getting to Baldur’s Gate.

But Lia didn’t want to leave the refugees behind. She wanted to stay with them, to risk her life and Cal’s to protect a bunch of strangers that they didn’t even know, and Rolan lost his temper. They got into an argument, the worst they’d ever had — and that was when they met her.

Her name was Tavanah: “call me Tav,” she said. She was a half-elf rogue from Baldur’s Gate with the oddest ragtag group of companions imaginable, and Rolan did not like her.

She was nosy, stepping into his argument with Lia and making him feel like he had no choice but to stay and protect the refugees. She had an annoying calmness about her that made Rolan feel like he was being overly dramatic when he absolutely was not. And most irritatingly of all, she got things done, and she did it quickly. She made that Kagha woman let Arabella go, and she went to the goblin camp and killed the goblin pack’s leaders and got Halsin freed. And for some reason that Rolan just couldn’t put his finger on, Tav’s heroism rubbed him the wrong way. Who in the hells did she think she was, interfering with his family? They were his responsibility, not hers. He’d been protecting them and providing for them since he was eighteen years old, and he’d gotten them safely out of Elturel all on his own with only his magical talents to thank. He didn’t need the interference of some busybody rogue and her weird friends to keep his own bloody family safe and sound, thank you very much.

Then, while travelling through the shadow-cursed lands with Zevlor and the others, they ran afoul of the damned cultists, and Cal and Lia were taken.

It happened faster than he could even fathom. One second, he was throwing a shield over the kids with one hand and flinging magic missiles with the other. The next thing he knew, Lia was screaming his name while she and Cal got dragged away into the dark.

It was the last bloody straw. Rolan was supposed to protect his siblings and kept them safe; what the fuck else did he have all of these talents and power for? What use was he if he wasn’t able to protect this own fucking family? But he’d failed at protecting them, he’d failed, and now they were gone. Cal and Lia were gone, and he was alone — he was alone, all alone, and he deserved this. He’d failed them, he was no use to them, he didn’t deserve a family, and that’s why he was alone. He wasn’t great at all. He wasn’t special or talented or worthy of an apprenticeship with someone like Lorrokoan. He had failed to keep his family safe, the one singular most important thing he was meant to do, and being alone and curled up at the bottom of a bottle was exactly where he deserved to be.

Then Tav showed up at the Last Light Inn.

As soon as he saw her, Rolan realized something: this wasn’t his fault, not really. It was Tav’s. Cal and Lia were gone because of her. If she hadn’t talked them into staying with Zevlor and the others, this wouldn’t have happened. If he and Cal and Lia had left on their own, he wouldn’t have been distracted protecting the kids; he would have put all of his skills and energy into keeping Cal and Lia safe, and they would still be together now. But Tav had interfered, sticking her nose into things and talking him into playing the bloody fucking hero, and because of her, Cal and Lia were gone.

He told her as much — as least, he thought he did, though things were kind of blurry at that point. And then she had the gall to tell him he shouldn’t give up hope, and that she would go to rescue Lia and Cal with her friends.

Rolan was furious. How dare this woman, this stranger, make it seem like he was some coward who didn’t have the stones or the skills to save his siblings on his own? How dare she make it sound like he was giving up? He wasn’t giving up by sitting here drinking. He was just — he… Well, he wasn’t bloody well giving up, not on Cal and Lia, not ever. And to prove her wrong, to prove that he was worth the trust that Mum had put in him all those years ago by taking him in, he went to save Cal and Lia on his own. He was more than able to do this, after all; he was skilled and brilliant, a self-taught prodigy well on his way to becoming great, and he was more than capable of bringing Cal and Lia back all by his bloody self.

But the shadows were too much. He got overwhelmed by them within half an hour of leaving the Last Light Inn, and as the shades and the undead crept in, so too did the terror. Was this really how he was going to go down? Here in the shadows, failed by the only talents he had while Cal and Lia were in trouble somewhere: was this really how it was going to end? He couldn’t let it end this way, he couldn’t. He couldn’t — Cal and Lia, he needed them — no, they needed him, they were probably so fucking scared, and he needed to stay alive for them, for them…

Then Tav showed up with her party in tow, and they saved his life.

Again, Rolan was absolutely furious. Not only were his talents not enough to save himself, but Tav and her friends had witnessed him being… not enough. They had seen him being useless and pathetic and scared, and worst of all, he was forced to admit that he couldn’t save Lia and Cal on his own — an admission that felt worse than chewing cut glass.

At Tav’s calm suggestion, he went back to Last Light with his horns hung low to wait for news of Lia and Cal. And later that very same day, the pair of them came wandering into the inn through the back door.

Their clothes were stained, and their faces and hands were smeared with dirt, but otherwise, they were no worse for wear. And for some reason that Rolan couldn’t even understand, the sight of them both blessedly unharmed made him see red. Here he was, marinating in a horrible miasma of fear and worry and shame, and they both dared to stroll back into the inn looking grimy but unharmed?

He blew up at them. Lia exploded back at him, and Cal tried to calm them down, which just made Rolan even angrier. Then bloody Tav walked through the tavern’s back door with that irritatingly calm look on her face, and she told Cal and Lia how much of a wreck Rolan had been without them both.

For a split second, Rolan was murderously enraged. How dare this woman talk about him to his own siblings as though she knew him? How fucking dare she? But then something truly mad happened: Lia deflated like a balloon and apologized to him.

Lia actually apologized to him — something that she almost never did. And Rolan suddenly felt like he was going to burst into tears. In that moment, he realized something with crystal clarity — something he should have realized ages ago: it didn’t matter how his siblings made it to safety, just that they were safe. Being a great wizard didn’t mean shit-all without the people who made him want to be great, and those people were Lia and Cal. And as irritating as it was to admit it, the person who helped him understand all of this was Tav.

As much as it humbled him to admit, he was… grateful to Tav for the clarity that her help afforded.

Over the next week, as the Elturians waited for the all-clear to move on from Last Light, Rolan spent a lot of time thinking about Tav. She didn’t know him or his family, but she’d gone out of her way time and time again to help them — not just them, but all of the refugees, and the druids and Harpers and gnomes to boot. She’d done all of those good deeds without expecting anything in return, and she’d done them all with that cool-as-a-cucumber demeanour she had. And the more Rolan thought about her, the more he realized something rather annoying. He wasn’t just grateful to Tav; he admired her, too. There, he’d admit it: he found her impressive, almost like a role model of sorts, or like… Ugh, he couldn’t believe he was thinking about her in this way, but as a hero. Silly though it felt to be a grown man thinking of someone this way, Tav reminded him of stories about folk heroes of old, and he found himself thinking about that more and more as he, Cal, Lia, and the refugees finally left the no-longer-shadow-cursed lands behind. Tav was a person whose actions weren’t just great, but… good, too. And this was what Rolan spent a lot of time thinking about as they made their way from Last Light to Baldur’s Gate.

As they drew closer to Baldur’s Gate, though, his excitement started taking over his thoughts. He was so close now, so close to the thing he’d been waiting for his entire life: the chance to finally be what he was meant to be. Here in Baldur’s Gate, with Lorroakan’s skills and guidance, Rolan was finally going to become a great wizard. He was finally going to learn the kinds of advanced magical theory and techniques that he’d never had the time or coin to learn before. He was going to make a name for himself, to prove that he was worth the affection and trust that Mum and Cal and Lia had given him over the years, and everything would finally fall into place.

Then he actually met Lorroakan.

He couldn’t tell Cal and Lia the truth, not after everything they’d been through to get here. So he told them that Lorroakan wouldn’t allow them to stay at the tower, and he found lodgings for them at the Elfsong with Alfira and Lakrissa so they wouldn’t see what Lorroakan was doing to him. He endured the beatings and the insults and being ordered around like a whipped dog, and he told himself that if he just stuck it out and kept his head down, he would finally get his chance. He’d find a way to access the secret cellar where the rare tomes were kept, and he’d learn everything he’d been deprived of for all these damned years. He just had to endure it a little longer; he couldn’t give up. Not now, not after everything he’d done to get this far, not after dragging Cal and Lia all this way. He couldn’t let it all be in vain — he simply couldn’t. He would get his chance at greatness, he just knew he would — as long as he didn’t give up.

Then Tav and her friends showed up at Sorcerous Sundries, because of course they did. And with one look at his face, he could see the truth of his shameful situation reflected in the darkening of her jade-green eyes.

She visited Lorroakan briefly, then came back from the tower looking like thunder and stormed out of the shop. And not long after that, an actual honest-to-gods aasimar showed up.

That was how Rolan found out that Lorroakan’s coveted Nightsong was a person — not an artifact, but a living, breathing person. And Lorroakan’s plan all this time had been to imprison her forever.

There in the Tower of Ramazith, with Lorroakan on one side and Tav on the other, Rolan made his biggest realization yet: he realized who he really wanted to be. He didn’t want to be a great wizard, not if being ‘great’ meant being anything like Lorroakan. What he wanted was to be good, like Tav. He might not be great like her, but he could be good, and that had to start right now.

So he turned on Lorroakan. He fought alongside Dame Aylin and Tav and her friends, and in so doing, he helped to set himself free.

Free. Rolan was free — and he was free in every sense of the word. With Lorroakan dead, with the ownership of Ramazith’s tower and Sorcerous Sundries now in his hands, Rolan was free to have the life he had always wanted. He had a home now — a permanent home, one that really belonged to him and Lia and Cal. He had an entire wizard’s tower full of knowledge to explore. And at long last, after everything that he’d suffered and overcome, he finally had the chance to be… not great, or not just great, but the chance to be… something more. And as Rolan stood there in Ramazith’s tower, watching Tav comforting Dame Aylin while her friends chatted and cleaned off their weapons and armour, he saw the truth: Tav was a perfect example of what ‘something more’ could really be.

For as long as Rolan could remember, what he wanted most in the world was to be a great wizard. But now, he knew there was more to life than that. Life was more than being the best, and it was more than having the world recognize how great you were. Being great didn’t mean anything at all without the people who inspired you to greatness, and the ones who inspired Rolan the most were Cal, Lia — and a certain green-eyed, cool-as-a-cucumber half-elf rogue from Baldur’s Gate.

Read the rest here on AO3.

[swisccfinds]

Custom Food Stalls to make you gameplay more realistic

Hey guys! I'm taking a break from my build project I currently have going on in the sims so I decided to take my break by posting on Tumblr :) This list will mainly consist of real life food stores.

With that said here are the most realistic food stalls for the sims 4

PS. Please remember to show love and your support to the creators, they are all credited under the screen grab of their custom content/mods

1 . Krispy Kreme Food Stall

mod by ArLi1211_ccsims4

Krispy Kreme? I could really go for some Krispy Kreme doughnuts right now. This amazing food stall mod allows your sim to buy Krispy Kreme products because why not introduce your sims to good ol' Krispy Kreme doughtnuts.

Some of the creator's notes~

New Coffee Stand with Krispy Kreme Aesthetic. Buy coffee and cakes for your sims! Available in the outdoor section as always. Cost: 1800$ Note : You need the University Add-On to use it. This item is a recolor of the Britechester edition of the Coffee Stand. Tell me in comments if you have some ideas/brands you like and you want in your game I will check it . The link is below. Thanks for the visit  and have a great day :)

download + more info

2 . Wingstop Custom Stall

mod by Insimna

I've NEVER had Wingstop. I live in a small town where they just keep removing the food places and replacing them with connivence store, I kid you not we have about 20 in my area. Insimna made this amazing Wingstop food stall with custom food aswell. I really like Insimna for looking for overrides or food stalls for example.

Creator's notes~

*City Living Expansion Pack is REQUIRED for the stall* **Dine Out and Discover University are Optional** ***This amazing lot was built by SimmerFree (The lot in the pictures is slightly modified to include the custom stall)*** Menu: Wing Flavors Combo: Atomic Cajun Garlic Parmesan Hawaiian Hickory Smoked BBQ Hot Honey Rub Lemon Pepper Louisiana Rub Mango Habanero Original Hot Plain Spicy Korean Q Sides & Drink Seasoned Fries Cheese Fries Louisiana Voodoo Fries Buffalo Ranch Fries Soda Compatible with Insimnia Eats 2.0 and Grannies/Zero's compatible version. You must download the updated version to see these items on there!

download + more info

3 . Chick-fil-A

mod by Insimna

Speaking of food stores I've never gotten to experience.. This Chick-fill-A food stall is so amazing and yes it sells Chick-fill-A products! But that download link is separate but for this sake I'll link both of them.

Creator's notes ~

Menu: Entrees  Chick-fil-A® Chicken Sandwich Chick-fil-A® Deluxe Sandwich Spicy Chicken Sandwich Spicy Deluxe Sandwich Grilled Chicken Sandwich Chick-fil-A® Grilled Chicken Club Sandwich Chick-fil-A® Nuggets Grilled Nuggets Drinks Soda Lemonade Iced Tea Features: Children can order! Compatible with Dine Out.  Compatible with the Lactose Intolerant trait from Cottage Living. Compatible with Insimnia Eats. You must download the updated version to see these items on there!

download + more info

4 . Subway Custom Stall

mod by Insimna

Another realistic custom stall is this subway food stall! Also made by Insimna! (she makes a lot of custom food stalls). This will be going into my next build :)

creator's notes~

*City Living Expansion Pack is REQUIRED for the stall* **Dine Out and Discover University are Optional** ***This awesome Subway build is by the super talented Gawdly Sims *** Menu: Classic Sandwiches Black Forest Ham Meatball Marinara Buffalo Chicken Chicken & Bacon Ranch Oven Roasted Turkey Italian B.M.T. Pizza Sub Roast Beef Rotisserie-Style Chicken Steak & Cheese Sweet Onion Chicken Teriyaki Tuna Spicy Italian No Bready Bowls & Soda Buffalo Chicken Cold Cut Combo Chicken & Bacon Ranch Steak & Cheese Oven Roasted Turkey & Ham Rotisserie-Style Chicken Soda Wraps Roast Beef Veggie Delite B.L.T. Tuna Spicy Italian Oven Roasted Turkey Sweet Onion Chicken Teriyaki Compatible with Insimnia Eats 2.0 and Grannies/Zero's compatible version. You must download the updated version to see these items on there! PLEASE MAKE SURE TO DELETE THE PREVIOUS VERSION WHEN DOWNLOADING THE LATEST ONE. HOW TO INSTALL: You will be installing 2 files 1. Download the CustomStall package file  2. For the Recipes, there are 2 versions. Choose ONLY 1. Choose Recipes_FAST if you want your Sims to finish their food quicker. (takes 6 "bites" to finish) Choose Recipes_SLOW package file if you want your Sims to take their time eating. (takes 12 "bites" to finish) 3. Simply drag and drop both PACKAGE File

download + more info

5. Burger King Stall

mod by Insimna

Burger king in the sims? I think YES! I loveeee burger kings burgers, to me they taste so good, and now my sims can enjoy some Burger King food thanks to this mod and CC

Creator's notes~

*City Living Expansion Pack is REQUIRED for the stall* **Dine Out and Discover University are Optional** If you don't have any of the packs listed above, you can only get the food through Insimnia Eats delivery. Menu: Bacon Double Cheeseburger Bacon King Bacon Melt Classic Melt Double Cheeseburger  Impossible Whopper (Vegetarian!) Quarter Pound King  Rodeo Burger Whopper Whopper Jr. Soda Compatible with Insimnia Eats 2.0 and Grannies/Zero's compatible version. You must download the updated version to see these items on there! PLEASE MAKE SURE TO DELETE THE PREVIOUS VERSION WHEN DOWNLOADING THE LATEST ONE.

download + more info

6. Panda Express

mod by Insimna

Here is another real life restaurant that I've never had! Like I said I live in a small town. I'm sure they have this in Albany but that's still an hour away from me. But that doesn't mean my sims won't be able to try it! I cannot wait to place all these in my build!

creator's notes~

*City Living Expansion Pack is REQUIRED* **Dine Out and Discover University are Optional** Super awesome, realistic Panda Express build I highly recommend: Bean's Builds  Menu Meals (comes with 2 sides of either Chow Mein & Fried Rice or Chow Mein & White Rice): The Original Orange Chicken Broccoli Beef SweetFire Chicken Breast Grilled Teriyaki Chicken Mushroom Chicken Beijing Beef Black Pepper Angus Steak Honey Walnut Shrimp Black Pepper Chicken Kung Pao Chicken Super Greens (vegetarian) Drink & Appetizers: Chicken Egg Roll Veggie Spring Roll (vegetarian) Soda Family Meals: Mushroom Chicken & Beijing Beef Black Pepper Chicken & Honey Walnut Shrimp Broccoli Beef & Grilled Teriyaki Chicken The Original Orange Chicken & Black Pepper Angus Steak Note: If you order a Family Meal from the custom stall, it will be in your Sim's inventory! Compatible with Insimnia Eats. You must download the updated version to see these items on there!

download + more info

7. Burger King Food Stall

mod by Insimna

Well we have Burger King on this list we must add McDonalds on here as well!

Creator's note~

Your Sims will definitely be lovin' it :) In honor of this mod, I'm actually gonna have McDonald's tonight lol *City Living Expansion Pack is REQUIRED* **Dine Out is Optional** ***Please take a look at this post if you want Sims to order autonomously*** Menu: Burgers & Fries Big Mac Quarter Pounder with Cheese Deluxe Quarter Pounder with Cheese Bacon Double Cheeseburger World Famous Fries Breakfast Egg McMuffin Sausage McMuffin with Egg Sausage, Egg & Cheese McGriddles Bacon, Egg & Cheese McGriddles Beverages Coca-Cola Sprite Strawberry Banana Smoothie Mango Pineapple Smoothie How it Works: Go into Build/Buy mode and search for the Insimnia McDonald's Custom Stall. Place it on the lot. Click on the stall and click "Hire Vendor" Once the vendor is in the stall, click to bring up the menu Features: Children can order! Compatible with Dine Out  Compatible with the Lactose Intolerant trait from Cottage Living (so basically everything since there's cheese (except the fries) and the smoothies lol)

download + more info

I hope you guys like this thread for custom stalls! Thank you if you have read all the way to the end, I love you guys ❤︎

[tooneys-russo]

YOU DECIDED FOR US

Plot: Riley and Alessia have a messy history. Now that Alessia is back in the UK can they work out their issues?

CHAPTER 1

Alessia and Riley had both grown up with a football glued to their feet, they had both gone into the youth teams together and competed with each other in many tournaments. There had always been some tension between the two, with a few kisses exchanged and a drunken night spent together when they were 17 just before Alessia left. Alessia had signed with UNC for her college years to develop her football further. Riley cut off contact during Alessia’s college years and had signed for Arsenal and had become close with Leah Williamson.

As soon as COVID hit Alessia went back to her family’s home in London, she continued training while her agent and brother Luca was talking to Manchester United about a potential contract. She saw an Instagram post from Riley of her in a park not too far from Alessia’s house having a kick, which was allowed with the COVID rules. Alessia watched the girl’s technique and it was flawless, she sent a message to the Arsenal player. ‘Hey Riley its Alessia, I saw you were at Gosche’s Paddock having a kick. I live near there. I was just wondering if you wanted to have a kick sometime?’ Riley was back at Leah’s having dinner when the message came through, she looked at it and showed Leah. “Oh shit, Alessia Russo. Maybe she wants to reconnect.” Leah wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. “Shut up.” Riley threw a roast potato at her Arsenal teammate. “We made out a few times years ago, we slept together once. Haven’t seen her in ages.” Riley responded and looked at the message again. ‘Yeah sure. I am going down tomorrow at 2. See you then.’ Riley glared at Leah who knew that Riley couldn’t resist the pull of a gorgeous blonde girl. 

The following day Riley showed up at the field in London, she had set up some cones and put out a bunch of footballs ready for Alessia. Riley had also set up some water and gatorade for them while they trained. “Nice set up Riley.” The blonde striker walked over. “Kind of shocked that you pulled all this together for little old me.” Riley turned to the blonde, she looked a little older but still just as gorgeous as the last time she had seen her. “I guess I just had to impress the UNC superstar right?” Alessia laughed. The two went through some drills. It wasn’t an incredibly hot summer in London but the two were sweating after an hour. “Holy shit Riley this is mental.” Alessia sat down by the water and laid back, Riley smirked and grabbed a water, she poured it over her head and it trickled down her body. Alessia stared at her and watched as she took her shirt off. “Take a picture Russo. It’ll last longer.” She threw her Arsenal training shirt at the blonde striker. “Just amazed that you are still standing.” Alessia choked out. “Yeah sure.” She rolled her eyes and offered a hand to Alessia to help her up. Riley pulled her up and they stood starting into each other’s eyes, they were the same height, Riley caught herself and stepped back. “Lets keep going. No WSL side will sign you if you are lazy.” Alessia grabbed Riley’s hand. “Wait, how did you know I am going to join the WSL?” 

Riley laughed at Alessia. “Oh please, it’s obvious to anyone with eyes. You have two fantastic seasons at UNC, then suddenly you are back and your brother was spotted at United a couple weeks ago?” Riley shrugged. “He kind of stands out.” Alessia watched Riley as she set up another drill. “What? Want me to get out some paper to show you how everyone worked it out? Come on Less you went to College it is obvious.” Riley walked back over to Alessia. “You will do great there, you would be better at Arsenal but I guess you don’t always make the best decisions now do you?” The question had a bit of venom that Riley regretted immediately. It had been three years since they had slept together, only for Alessia to tell Riley that she was leaving in a few weeks, meaning that Riley cut off contact and hid from the girl even at Lioness camps. Alessia looked down. “It was the best for me. For my football.” Riley didn’t respond, rather she walked over to their next drill.

Once their session was finished Riley began picking her things up to take to her car. “Riley, I am really sorry.” Riley shrugged. “Don’t be.” She said coldly. “Let me know if you want to do another session. Tomorrow is my recovery day so I won’t be around.” Riley couldn’t look at Alessia as she packed her car. Alessia followed Riley, “So you don’t want to talk about what happened between us?” Riley sighed and turned to face Alessia. “To be honest no. It was hard as shit to get over you Alessia but I did it, alone. All of that is just a memory for me, a great memory but I am different now. I just need to focus on myself and my football. Just like you did. I will see you around Less-Alessia.” Riley corrected herself and closed the boot of her car and drove off leaving the blonde watching her pull away. Alessia messaged Riley a few days later, wanting to meet up for another session. ‘Sorry, heading into club training. Maybe another time.’ There was minimal contact between the two, Alessia being the one to initiate contact. Riley couldn’t bring herself to let the girl back into her life, not like she used to be.

When it was announced that Alessia had signed with Manchester United, Riley had liked the instagram announcement but never reached out to the blonde and Alessia sat with the message box open unable to type out anything to the girl. After a couple celebratory drinks with Ella she messaged Lotte, ‘Hey, Ella and I are in London and we are having a little bit of a party to celebrate me signing and the COVID restrictions easing. Come over and bring some of the girls. If possible, can you bring Riley?’ Lotte showed up at Leah and Riley’s place telling them about the sneaky party. “Nah I am fine thanks.” Riley said not bothering to get off the couch. “Come on please, I will let you wear my vintage Arsenal jumper that you had your eye on.” Riley looked up at Lotte. “Fine.” She trudged upstairs to get changed, she threw on an oversized white t shirt, black skinny jeans, a pair of Nike Jordan’s and a backwards Nike cap. On the way Riley stayed quiet, nervous about seeing Alessia again after their last encounter and the fight. 

Alessia and Ella were already tipsy when they arrived at the house. They both wrapped their arms around Lotte, Leah and Riley. Alessia’s hug lingered on Riley for an extra second before the girl pulled away and looked at the ground, Alessia smiled at the girl. “You liked the post.” She said matter of factly. “Can’t hate me that much.” She sipped her drink. “Just being polite, would be weird if someone who had known you for ten years didn’t like that you were coming to WSL wouldn’t it?” Riley moved past Alessia to grab a drink. Alessia watched Riley closely as they both got slightly more drunk with every passing minute. Riley stumbled out the back into the yard and sat down on a chair by the fire, she was happy no one else was out there so she could have some peace and quiet. It was quickly ruined by a drunk blonde who pulled up a chair next to Riley. “You hate me.” Alessia said and sipped her drink. “Oh shit, how did you work that out?” Riley smirked and leant back on the chair. “I know I fucked up but you also know I had to go.” Alessia put her hand on Riley’s leg. “Yeah I know. But I also know that you could have told me. I would have waited for you. I would have done fucking anything for you Alessia.” She looked into the blonde girl’s eyes. “I am sorry.” Alessia leant towards Riley. “Fuck your sorry.” Riley leant in and spoke against Alessia’s lips before standing up. She felt an empty can hit her back. “Fuck you Riley.” Alessia spat. “Oh princess you already did. Or don’t you remember?” Riley turned and walked quickly to Alessia so they were inches apart. “You think I didn’t miss you? I spent fucking ages trying to get over you. I wanted nothing more than you.” Alessia held back the tears. “You had me. I know for a fact you got with someone two weeks into being at UNC. Good to know two weeks is ages for you. I don’t want anything to do with you Alessia. You are fucking poison. Have fun at United, at least I will only have to put up with your shit for 180 minutes a year.” Riley finished her drink and stormed out of the house. 

Alessia spent the rest of the night drinking more and began talking with Jill Roord, the rest of the night was a blur for Alessia until the next morning. She woke up next to a girl, part of her prayed it was Riley that they maybe had some heated hate sex. But that was quickly dashed when the girl rolled over and it was Jill not Riley. Alessia sat up and rubbed her face, her phone had messages from a few of the girls with pictures of her and Jill dancing together and kissing. She groaned and got up from the bed, she had to head back to Manchester that afternoon and knew she would be feeling a bit poorly the whole time. Jill rubbed her eyes and looked at Alessia. “Well good morning to you.” Alessia smiled at the girl. “Good morning. Sorry to be that girl but I have to leave back to Manchester today.” She grabbed a shirt from the ground and put it on. “Oh no don’t worry. We have a team meeting tonight, maybe next time you are in London you can let me know, we could catch up again.” Alessia didn’t respond, she was putting everything together in her head of who Jill plays for. “Um maybe.” Jill rolled her eyes and got up from the bed. “Okay guess not.” Jill got dressed in silence and left the house without anything else being said. 

Ella and Alessia headed back to Manchester in the afternoon. “So you and Jill.” Ella smirked, Alessia sighed and put her sunglasses on. “I had a fight with Riley then the rest is a blur.” Ella examined Alessia’s face. “What ever happened between you two?” Alessia ran Ella through their stolen kisses at youth camp and everything leading up to their first time. “Oh Less.” Ella said sympathetically, Alessia having a few tears escape her eyes. “I never knew. I am so sorry. Are you okay?” Alessia just nodded and kept looking out the window of the moving train. 

Riley showed up at the Arsenal team meeting with Leah, they were just chatting about the upcoming season. They sat towards the front of the theater as the rest of the team came in. Jill walked in giggling with one of the other players, Riley saw that she had a few hickeys on her neck and Riley laughed and whispered to Leah. “Seems like someone had fun at the party last night.” Leah cleared her throat knowing exactly what had happened, and who gave Jill the hickeys. Katie laughed loud and announced. “Oi Rood, nice neck! Russo sure as shit marked you up.” Riley clenched her jaw and looked down. The meeting and subsequent team dinner was wasted on Riley, she barely paid attention and disappeared without saying bye to any of the girls. She went for a walk after she got home, she walked all the way to the local football field and started running trying to keep her tears from falling. 

They had not spoken since that night and there was no instance where they ran into each other either being in two different cities. The night before they were to play each other both were in London getting ready to play at the Emirates. At the Arsenal and Manchester United game Alessia warmed up with the team and continued glancing at her ex friend. Riley was phenomenal in the midfield, she had a game awareness that most 21 year olds would kill for. Riley had worked her ass off the whole game, there wasn’t much else that she could do when the rest of her team was playing below their best. Alessia watched on in amazement at how far the other members of the good peeps had come. Ella and Lotte were fantastic but Riley was on another level. It was clear how frustrated Riley was as the game got closer to the end, she was starting to make almost reckless tackles leading to Katie Zelem to get in her face, all Riley gave back was a smirk as she took her yellow card. Alessia collected the ball from Ella in the midfield and began heading towards goals, she could hear someone running up beside her but before she could process what had happened she was on her ass and a whistle was blown. Alessia looked up to see that Riley and Katie Zelem were face to face again both pushing each other. “Maybe if she could actually take a tackle and not fall over every second she’d be able to handle herself in this league.” Riley yelled at Katie, she was quickly pulled back by Leah to avoid anything else happening. “Get up Alessia, this is the big leagues now, not some backwater college competition.” Alessia was quick to her feet and storming over to Riley. “What is your issue? Still fucking hung up on me?” Alessia bit back at Riley who tried to lunge at her. The referee gave Riley a red. “Off you go, you need to go to the changerooms.” Riley clenched her jaw and grabbed her shin guards as she walked off the field. 

Riley got back to the change rooms and sat in front of her locker. She kept her head down holding back the tears. She showered and got changed into her training gear. When the girl’s re-entered the changeroom they avoided Riley, even Leah couldn’t speak to Riley because of her actions. Riley was ripped through by her coach, she nodded knowing that she had gone too far. “I will meet you at home.” Riley said coldly to Leah as she walked out to her car. There was a local bar nearby that she would frequent when she had a bad game. She sat at a booth with her beer as she watched the people enjoy themselves. 

Suddenly she saw a bunch of familiar faces, the Manchester United girls were celebrating their last game for the year as well as their win. Riley kept her head down as she got another drink, the United girls were loud and dancing together. Riley sat back in her booth finishing her fifth drink, she decided that them being so joyful was punishment for her behaviour. Alessia recognised the lone figure in the booth and felt the rage from the game rise in her. She stormed over and slammed her drink on the table. “You calmed down yet? Or are you here to start another fight?” Riley didn’t bother raising her head. “Alessia, honestly fuck off. Go call Jill, she probably misses you.” Alessia leant down and said into Riley’s ear. “Don’t pretend you aren’t jealous. We both know you wish it was you that I marked you up.” Riley stood face to face with Alessia. “Oh please. You would have imagined me that night. We have a fight and you need a fuck to get me out of your head.” Riley snapped back at Alessia. The blonde swallowed and looked at the brunette in front of her, Riley grabbed onto Alessia’s shirt, the striker praying that maybe she would kiss her. Instead Riley pushed Alessia back so she could leave, she stumbled past the Manchester United players and turned to Alessia. “It’s not hard to hook up with someone, Russo.” She turned and kissed Ella deeply, Riley pulled back and walked out of the bar towards a cab. Ella stood there stunned as Alessia raced out of the bar following Riley. She grabbed her wrist and turned her around. “You really are an asshole.” Alessia grabbed onto Riley’s shirt. “You are so frustrating! When I saw you in the park it all came back, all the feelings, all the good and the bad.” Alessia was close to tears as she spoke to Riley. “Alessia, I loved you. With everything I had and you still left.” Riley looked at Alessia, she had never been so vulnerable. Alessia pulled Riley against her and kissed her deeply, trying to put as much love as she could in the kiss, but Riley pulled back and almost fell over some bins. She began crying and rushed off to the waiting cab. Alessia stood there watching the cab pull away.

Chapter 2

[journalsouppe]

UNWOUND FUTURE RAAHHHHHHHH!!! What an AMAZING trilogy conclusion with such a perfect setup for future sequels. I cannot recommend playing Professor Layton enough.

All of the Professor Layton stickers are from @jordydrawsmerch which can be found here and here. Every other sticker is from Daiso!

All the writing is typed below!

Rating: 9.3 Played: Fa 2023 Port: HD mobile (iPad) Favorite? Y Replayable? Y Recommend? Y

Comments:

the way the PM walked T^T

LMFAO STACHENSCARFEN

Layton’s about to be beat up bc of his top hat (skull emoji)

Getting major DGS 2-3 vibes

FAMILY GOON

An arc arcade? You’re speaking my language

I LOVE THE BLOCK HAT PUZZLE PIECES SPELLING LAYTON IN JAPANESE!!!

FLORA STICKER

BABY LAYTON BLUSHING IM SCREAMING

I really love the picture book and its music

THE DEVIL IN THE TOP HAT NOO

Luke always takes the opportunity to roast the Laytonmobile (skull emoji)

THEYRE JUST SHOOTING AT EVERYONE AND EVERYTHING

THE ORIGINS OF LAYTONS HAT IM GONNA CRY T^T

I love that bi Luke has his own puzzle solving sequence

Where the fuck did you take us future Luke

The battle of wits was so fun omg

I cant get over evil Layton

BIG LUKE AND LITTLE LUKE

Omg Hershel in the background

Based p. Layton newspaper conversation

LMFAO Hershel trespassing and Luke stressed

The bee???? T^T

FLORA PUZZLE SOLVED SEQUENCE T^T!!!!

GO OFF FLORA!!!!

Ooo pretty Chinese arc

Hershel i swear

Hmmm young sir… who is big Luke?

NOT AVOGADRO

Did all the scientists piss their pants?

I have a lot of questions

Love the design and music of the pagoda

Where tf did Hershel go (skull emoji)

Omg Luke’s a Sherlock fan

I feel like Layton was replaced with evil Layton

I swear Dimitri had a mustache??

THE BARS

WHERE IS FLORA

DON PAOLO LMAO

THE LUKE MOBING SCENE MAKES ME WANT TO CRY

How many secret hideouts are there T_T

NOOO FLORA

The barkeep is v sketch

Chad laytonmobile

I can see how this game inspired dgs

THE KAZUMA AND CLIVE PARALLELS ARE DRIVING ME CRAZY

BEASLY AND PUZZLETTE HOLY SHIT

“That’s funny” :[

Ive been side eyeing some of these designs the past 2 games but yeah bostro’s design is def racist

DON PAOLO TURNIGN EVIL BC OF CLAIRE LOVING HERSHEL LMAO T-T and the running into the river omfg

Working with don paolo has been fun

I DIDNT THINK LAYTON WOULD ACTUALLY CUT THE ROPE

Where did Layton learn all this about Clive??

Summary:

WHAT A PHENOMENAL GAME!!! Truly what a great “conclusion” to the main trilogy. You learn so much about Layton, Luke, flora, and many other characters like don paolo. The ending reveal of Clive was CRAZY. It really reminded me of movies like howls moving castle/the iron giant. I also just love how complex Clive is. He was driven to violence because of how the government treated him and his family, but he never truly wanted to hurt people. He was without any hope and thought mass destruction would finally bring some change to the government, but he also made sure to include Layton in his plans because he so desperately wanted someone to stop him. It’s tragic and terrorism definitely wasn’t the way to go but at least this is a fictional story and that death machine looked kinda sick Ngl. The story of Layton and Claire was also so tragic yet so healing. Layton could finally take off his hat without feeling grief, you never would’ve known he was hurting that much. I loved Claire, she seemed like such an amazing person and I’m glad Layton wasn’t swayed to try to bring her back, although he did falter when he had to say goodbye again. Although I highly enjoyed the game, I am slightly disappointed there was no actual evil Layton. How fun would a game with evil Layton be omg. The whole game constantly caught me by surprise, even by small scenes like Beasly and PUZZLETTE. I’m still a littel confused about the lab experiments with Gumbo and subject 3, I’m not quire sure why they added that plot (and have no resolution) but I liked Gumbo fine. My favorite coin animal will always be hot dog though. I cannot recommend this series enough, I am having the time of my life. I can also see how DGS was heavily inspired by these games and im so glad about it bc dgs was game changing. I can’t believe there was a 26 year wait in between UF and NWOS but im glad to be a Layton fan :’) so fucking glad!!!!

[crimson-calligraphyx]

A/N: I'm so sorry for how long of a delay there was on this update, and even more sorry for the poor quality of this chapter lol. I went to 5 concerts consecutively (two of which were Bad Omens, of course) and was dead tired afterwards. Anyway, I hope y'all enjoy. Love you all 🖤 Tag List: @cheyfi @kingdomof-omens @daylightlvrs @blade-in-red @ladyveronikawrites @jay02bo @itsmrsfuentes @cncohshit

The second I unlocked the door to my home, I beelined it to my bedroom and collapsed onto my bed. I was exhausted. Though the past week was full of excitement, I just wasn't cut out for the tour life. It was fast-paced, cramped and loud, and I couldn't wait to return to my placid bakery where things made more sense.

It was still such an amazing thing to witness the guys do what they were most passionate about night after night, and I was so happy for and proud of them. But Christ, did they wipe me out.

I wasn't due back to the bakery until tomorrow morning, so I took advantage of the alone time that I had and slept. I didn't even change out of my clothes, just simply kicked my shoes off and snatched Noah's pillow, hugging it to my chest and breathing in the little aroma it still had of his cologne. I was out cold in a matter of minutes.

It took every fiber of my being that I had to not throw my phone against the wall when my alarm went off the next morning. It felt like I blinked, and it was already time to get up, when in reality I slept for about 10 hours give or take. Clearly, I needed it though—I woke up in the same position, and my neck was stiff from the way I had fallen asleep on it.

Groaning, I pushed myself into a sitting position, swinging my legs off the side of the bed, and tried to rub the knot out of my neck. I gave up with a huff when I wasn't able to alleviate it and headed straight to the bathroom to shower.

I took an unnecessarily long shower, relishing the familiar warmth and steady pressure from the spray head as the water caressed and soothed my exhausted body. I never thought I'd miss something as simple as that, but after a week of fighting for a shower that would be lukewarm at best, this was like hitting the jackpot.

Accepting the fact that I needed to stop dragging my feet and go to work, I reluctantly left the shower with a sigh. I stayed in there until my fingers were pruned, appreciating every second I had with the coconut lather of my shampoo and body wash. I dressed quickly, threw my hair into a messy bun, and made my way to the bakery where I was met with welcoming smiles from Juliana and Holly.

“Welcome back, Liv! How was your time away with the hubby?” Jules asked once I made my way around the counter. “Long,” I huffed out a tired laugh, and she furrows her brows with a timid smile grazing her lips. “It was great, but the boys are just a lot—especially when you’re stuck on a bus with them, sharing one bathroom.” She snorts and nods her head in understanding. “I can only imagine. I grew up with three older brothers; I couldn't be stuck on a bus with them for that long. I’d have killed one of them, I’m sure.”

The three of us shared a laugh as I made my way into my office, pleased to see that it was still the way I had left it, with only a few items of paperwork to file away. Logging into my computer, I saw just how well Jules held down the fort while I was away; she took care of the cash deposits, counted inventory, and even placed the order for our next delivery before I walked in this morning.

"Hey, Liv," Holly greets me as she knocks on the door frame. "There's someone in the lobby asking to see you." I finished filing away the paper I held in my hand and turned my attention to her. "Do you know who it is?" I quirked an eyebrow in curiosity, not expecting any visits from anyone, especially since I just returned home. "I'm not sure of his name, but he's here all the time," she shrugs. "Shaggy hair, always get a muffin and a dark roast coffee."

Steven.

My stomach immediately churns at the thought of him, remembering how awful that night had been the last time that I saw him. It makes me sick how easily he manipulated me into drinking, how easily he conditioned me into letting my guard down to take advantage of me... But it was my own doing.

I was so weak, so vulnerable, and it was fucking embarrassing. My behavior was embarrassing. A sloppy drunk causing a scene and stumbling outside, collapsing to the ground in hysterics and vomiting on the sidewalk as her husband held her.

The worst part about that night was how I broke Noah's heart, asking if he even loved me. The sorrow on his face was permanently burned into my mind—the pained inhale he took as his mouth dropped open, the tears that rolled down his face as he shook his head in disbelief. I could see his heart shattering, and there's a part of me that will always hate myself for causing him that pain.

I sighed harshly and stood, bracing myself for whatever bullshit Steven had to say to me. I made my way towards the front, shoulders squared in hopes of expressing that I was in no mood to take his shit.

Once I crossed into the lobby, I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw what he held in his hands, my face immediately contorting with disgust. "Steven, what are you doing?" I spit, folding my arms across my chest. "I wanted to apologize for—” I hold up a hand, cutting him off. "Don't. Get out." "Liv, please," he begs, holding out the small bouquet of flowers towards me. "I overstepped that night and I just wanted to smooth things over. Start fresh, a new clean slate."

He swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing distinctly when I let out a dry laugh, shaking my head at him. Did he think I'd just sweep everything under the rug for a bundle of cheap flowers from the corner store? This man was nothing to me; it was no sweat off my back if I never laid eyes on him again. He wasn't anything other than some change in my pocket, even more so after his actions at the bar.

"You must be joking. Right?" He fidgets, shifting his weight from one foot to the other apprehensively. "No, I really am sorry, Liv," he tries again, his eyes searching mine for forgiveness. I snorted, "That's great. And I really meant it when I said to never step foot in my bakery again." He lowers the flowers, pulling his brows together. "Over a stupid kiss, really?" His whole demeanor had changed, his voice growing strong as he scowled at me.

My blood began to simmer hearing those words come out of his mouth. "A stupid kiss?" I repeated, jerking my head back while my brows rose in astonishment. "It's not about the kiss, Steven. You crossed boundaries, you humiliated me in front of all those people!" "I humiliated you? It's not my fault you can't handle your liquor—” "Get the fuck out!" I shouted, pointing a now trembling finger at the front door. I grit my teeth when he doesn't so much as move a muscle. "I swear to God, Steven if you don't get out right this second—" "What? What are you gonna do, huh?" He opens his arms wide, taking a step towards me. "Gonna slap me and run away again?"

Rage was coursing through my veins as my hands balled into fists at my sides, my arms quivering with adrenaline. I wanted nothing more than to sock him in the face, but I couldn't do that. Not in my place of work. Instead, I clenched my teeth as we locked eyes and took a few deep breaths, hoping to suppress my anger.

I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose, exhaling deeply one last time. "Please just get out. I will call the police, and have you escorted if you don't," I tell him as calmly as possible. "You're a cunt," he scoffs. "Can't even accept a simple apology without putting up a fight. No wonder your husband spends all his time on his music to get away from you." My eyes snapped open from his words just as he whipped the flowers in my direction—I barely had enough time to bat them away. "Oh, you motherfucker," I hissed, shaking my head in disbelief. "Get the fuck out!" I hollered, planting my hands on his chest and giving him a hard push towards the door.

His words lit the fire I tried so hard to snuff out. I kept shoving him, getting more aggressive with each push while tears began to burn my eyes. I kept shoving him until one of the girls wrapped her arms around my torso and pulled me back, allowing him to shoot one last profanity towards me before exiting the building. I watched him saunter away, shaking his head while he went, my chest heaving as I tried to ground myself.

"Are you okay?" I realized that it was Juliana who pulled me back. I nodded, huffing in aggravation once more before wriggling out of her grasp. "I'm okay," I assure her, wiping under my lashline to hinder the tears that were still burning my eyes from spilling. "Excuse me," I mumbled, heading back to my office. I shut the door and collapsed into the computer chair, my head hanging off the back.

No wonder your husband spends all his time on his music to get away from you.

I tried my damnedest to not let his words affect me, but they cut deep. Things had been great with Noah this past week, and I knew things were fine between us, yet I couldn't keep myself from thinking that maybe Steven was right. I had been confined in the bus with Noah for a week; he had no choice but to give me his attention—things could easily go back to the way they had been beforehand.

And that thought made my chest tight, it made my heart sink to the pit of my stomach. I did not want to go through that pain again, feeling as if I were insignificant to him. I did not want to succumb to the loneliness that I felt and slip down that rabbit hole again. I just simply couldn't.

I covered my face with my hands and let out a deep groan, scrubbing my cheeks in frustration. This was not how I intended my first day back to work to go. All I wanted to do was go home and have a drink to calm myself down or to forget what just happened—whichever came first. But I didn't. I took some deep breaths, tacked on a fake smile, and did what I had to do.

The rest of the day went by smoothly. It was slower than usual, but the customers that came in were pleasant. I was able to bake a few trays of macaron shells, ready to be finished being put together tomorrow morning.

I had just stepped through the door when my phone started to ring in my back pocket, and I knew that it was Noah. With a smile, I placed my belongings on the kitchen island and accepted the call.

"Do you have cameras on me or something?" I greet him sarcastically. "Well, hello to you, too," he chuckles on the other end. "No...but should I? Are you doing something I shouldn't see?" He muses. "No, no," I say as I cross over into our bedroom, flipping on the light. "I literally walked through the door just as you called." "Damn, for a second I thought maybe you were parading around in some new lingerie. Or, better yet, nothing at all." I can hear the smirk that I'm sure was plastered on his face.

I rolled my eyes with a small chuckle, tucking my phone between my shoulder and ear as I opened the closet and pulled out the nearly overflowing laundry basket. I cringed, regretting that I left this for when I came back instead of doing it before I left for the week.

"Anyways, how was work?" "Oh, you know, work," I sighed, putting him on speaker so that I could exchange my work clothes for sleepwear. "It was fine." "Just fine?" I shrugged as if he could see me, "Yeah. It was slow, did some baking. Nothing to write home about." "You sure about that? 'Fine' usually means it wasn't fine." He presses. I plopped down onto the bed with another sigh, bringing the phone back to my ear. "I had to kick someone out this morning, that's all." "Mmm, there's something you're not telling me." He doesn't ask; he states.

I didn't really want to get into my altercation with Steven, but I knew better than to avoid telling Noah about it. He had a sixth sense for this shit, I swear, and he wouldn't stop pestering me until I cracked. I huffed, combing my bangs back with my hand. "It was the same guy from that night." He lets out an aggravated breath. "Are you alright? He didn't try to pull some shit again, did he? I swear—" "No, Noah, relax. He just came in to apologize." "Then why did you have to kick him out?" He retorts. I rested my elbow on my knee, planting my forehead in my hand. "I got mad," I tell him simply. He scoffs, "Mad about what? That he apologized?" "No, I'm not mad that he apologized—" "Then why did you get mad?" He snips, his voice rising.

His tone was starting to aggravate me, his impatience getting under my skin. There was no reason for his hostility, especially since he wouldn't let me finish my damn story. When he finally let me get my word in to explain the exact reasoning for kicking Steven out, he asked me if I had a drink, which in of itself wasn't a big deal. It was the tone of how he asked, and the insinuation in his response when I truthfully told him that I didn't.

"What's gotten into you tonight? You don't trust me to stay sober while you're not around?" I laughed incredulously, my blood now set to a boil. "No, I just worry about you, Olivia." I rolled my eyes again—this was not the action of someone who was simply worried about me. Something was causing him to behave this way, and I'm not sure what it was, but it needed to stop.

We remained silent. I was too pissed to say anything, and I'm sure he was trying to find something to say to ease the tension. I stood to resume my task of doing laundry and picked up my bag from this past week, beginning to toss all the clothes into the hamper aggressively. When I tossed the last article of clothing into the basket, I heard something bounce and land on the floor with a soft thump.

I stared at the familiar shimmer of black titanium with uncertainty, my stomach churning. "Can I ask you something?" I broke the silence, bending down to pick up his wedding ring. "Why exactly do you wear a single glove on your left hand?" I twiddled the ring between my fingers as if to make sure that it was real and not some figment of my imagination. "I don't know," he mumbles. "Thought it was a cool look." I pursed my lips into a fine line, nodding slowly with disbelief. "Huh, okay. Not trying to hide the fact that you're not wearing your wedding ring from me, right?"

He sighs harshly, having me pull the phone away from my ear from the sudden noise. "Olivia, you're being ridiculous. Why the fuck would I do that?" "You tell me. I just found your ring in my shit while starting the laundry. Kinda convenient, don't you think? Now that I'm not there with you, you take it off," I let out a dry laugh. "What are you trying to say?" "I'm not saying anything," I shrug once again. "Just seems like you're trying to give off the impression that you're not married, is all." "I took it off so I don't lose it, Liv," he barks. "And I put it in your bag because you were going home." "Why wouldn't you just hand it to me, then?" I snapped, slamming it down on the nightstand. "Olivia, please. I can't deal with this right now. You're being fucking ridiculous." The line went dead before I could get in another word.

My heart plummets to the pit of my stomach, and tears roll down my cheeks almost instantaneously. I couldn't fucking breathe; my chest felt so tight as I tried not to break into a fit of hysterics.

Maybe I was overthinking it, maybe he really did want his ring in a safe place, but it all just seemed too convenient. And this behavior was not like him. Being assertive was one thing, but to accuse me of drinking, followed by hanging up on me because he 'can't deal with this right now' was a whole other level. Forget about being insignificant, that just made me feel unworthy.

I wasn't thinking clearly as I screamed and whipped my phone into the wall, and I most certainly wasn't thinking when I slipped on a hoodie and grabbed my keys, slamming the door behind me when I left.

|Chapter 11|

[russellsppttemplates]

an idea i've had: mick and mama each planning or getting a surprise for each other for the holidays (something different for each of them) but each told from their POV until they open them together?

Mick was on a mission: finding the perfect surprise gift for his wife. Throughout the year, he always made sure that, within reason, you were showered with gifts, but this one was special. It wasn't something you could buy from looking at somebody else wearing it or seeing it in a shop, at least not the way he wanted it.

"This is for my wife, so can I send the pictures to you?", Mick questioned, "if you want, you can make a digital mock up and it will be more accurate, you can do that here and I can help, the shop isn't too busy", the older man said, pulling a chair for Mick to sit.

"Look at these pictures, they're beautiful", he added, "these are from a few years ago, before we got married", Mick looked at the screen proudly as they helped him, telling the story in each one.

"I'm sorry I'm asking, you don't have to answer if you don't want to, but don't you have a wedding photo album?", he asked, "I'm only wondering because since those became tradition, I hardly ever do these for people. Technology has come such a long way and some people don't want them either".

"We do, and we love it, don't get me wrong. Our photographer did an amazing job, and we still love going through it. But I wanted something a little bit personal, more us, with pictures of when we started dating all until now with our three kids", smiling as he pulled up the picture you took when you brought Harriet home.

"Very well, sir. I think it's a fine idea and I'm sure your wife will love it", the older man proceeded, grabbing the samples he needed to work with.

.

"You have to press a little bit harder, liebling, like this", you nudged, helping Harriet push the clay down with her palm, leaving the inprint, "now these have to dry?", Sebastian asked.

"Yes, this is mama's present to papa, and this is a surprise, so you can't tell him, okay?", you put your pointer finger in front of your lips, making a shhh sign and winking, delighting Harriet as the little girl laughed away, "we'll keep your secret, mama, don't worry!", Rora said.

With your family's help, you were able to spend the afternoon kid free making a delicious meal for you and Mick while getting the house ready. As much as you loved having your three hurricanes around, you missed the domesticity of being just you and your husband chilling out at home.

Mick was in a meeting, so he had no idea why, when he arrived home, the place was quiet, candles lit on a tidied house, "Liebling, I'm home!", he called, setting the bag with the shiny new photo album on the sofa and following the lit corridor to see the light on your bedroom.

Inside, he could see you in the bathroom bent over your bathtub, and filling it with the foamy product, "hey", he said softly, not wanting to startle you, "what are you doing?".

"It was supposed to be a surprise!", you blushed, "the kids are with my mother, I made that roast we really like, and I was hoping you'd join me for a bath", you smiled craddling his face on your hands and kissing his lips, "sounds great, love", he kissed the top of your head.

Undressing eachother, you both got in, talking about anything and everything, sharing caresses and soft touches, "I love having the kids with us, but I love having you to myself. Especially after Seb steals you from me", he chuckled, kissing your as he did the tie on your robe once you were out of the tub.

"This was delicious", Mick said as he placed his fork down, taking the plates to the kitchen, "I also have something for you", he admitted, pulling the album out of the bag.

"I thought you said no more surprises", you pouted, "I know you still have something for me", he pointed at you, seeing your blush which gave him his reason, "and, besides, I had this made".

"I loved this day! Angie was so little, look!", you smiled, touching the picture of the day when you got your puppy. It was the first family picture and it was a core memory.

"And this day, this was the day I'm sure Seb was conceived", you blushed, remembering the night, "this is amazing, Mick, I love it", you added, kissing his lips before you drank some wine.

(Thank you for your submission ✨️)

[fruitcoops]

Chicken Strip(tease)

O'Knutzy Week Day 3: Cooking Mishap + Bondage! For @oknutzyweek2023 and many thanks to @lumosinlove <3

It was January in Gryffindor—in other words, fucking miserable. Leo gave himself a little extra grace for that when the screaming toddlers at the corner store started feeling a tad too relatable. The weather couldn’t decide between sleet, hail, and snow, so it vomited out some nightmare combination of the three with the magnificent addition of near-freezing temperatures from dawn (short) till dusk (even shorter). Any of Leo’s grumbling was sharply silenced by a blast of shearing wind to tell him to shove it up his ass.

The living room plants had a special light to mimic the sun during the months of garbage disposal weather.

Leo had the oven. And he was going to bloom and grow and photosynthesize, goddammit.

Simmer pots went from a monthly occurrence to a weekly staple—ostensibly, he needed to use up the extra oranges before they went bad. They had soup every night for a week, and as the sky grew darker, he transitioned to frequent roasts. The three of them could demolish a hunk of pork in one sitting without any trouble at all; Leo was sure anemia spooked and ran the second it glanced their way.

“What’s—”

“Veggies.” The first two rows of tiles by the oven were warmer than the rest of the floor. He had discovered that just after Cap’s birthday. “Carrots, celery, beets. The works. How’s your mom’n’em?”

“My—they’re good.” Finn’s socks muffled his footsteps. Leo stared into the tiny oven window, entranced by golden light. “Yeah, no, everyone’s fine. Excited to see us for the holidays. Mom sends kisses.”

Leo hummed. That would be nice. He wasn’t keen on winter any further north than Kentucky, but the O’Hara house was always warm. Warmer than Rimouski, at least. It was a testament to Logan’s love that he didn’t ask Leo to bury himself in snow that could be measured in meters.

“…you okay, baby?”

“Hmm?” He scooted an inch closer to the oven and gleefully wiggled his toes on the nearly-too-hot tile. “Mhmm.”

“You’re sitting, like, really close to the oven.”

“Warm,” Leo supplied. Wind shrieked down the brick siding of their building and he closed his eyes, leaning in. The oil was starting to sizzle.

“Please don’t bake yourself.”

The concern in Finn’s voice made him pause. He blinked. His face was beginning to prickle.

In the glass reflection, Finn squatted with a soft groan. His fingertips brushed Leo’s spine. “Le? You listening?”

“Mhmm.” The carrots would be ready to caramelize soon. Maybe he could do another soup as a side course.

“You gotta sit back, Butter.”

“ ‘S warm here.”

Finn sighed. “C’mon. Let’s get you a blanket.”

Arms came around his chest to haul him off the ground like a ragdoll. “No,” Leo protested weakly, reaching for his little square of salvation.

“Yes,” Finn mimicked. His sweater sleeves gave gentle cushion to Leo’s underarms as he was (dragged) hustled to the other side of the kitchen; Finn paused, moved to his front, and boosted him onto the countertop with only a quiet grunt of effort.

Leo couldn’t help the slide of his lower lip. “But…”

“Uh-uh. No baked boyfriends, please.” Finn leaned up to kiss his cheek, but swerved an inch before he made contact. “Oh, that looks tasty.”

Leo exhaled miserably and plopped his forehead onto Finn’s shoulder. A hand found his nape within seconds. “Chicken.”

“I see that,” Finn laughed. “Looks great, honey.”

“Might have soup, too.”

“You’re really feeling the soup, huh?”

“Tasty. Easy.”

“It’s amazing,” Finn agreed. He toyed with a few overgrown curls, then leaned toward the doorway. “Lo! Le made a chicken!”

An instant ruckus followed—Leo buried his smile in Finn’s neck. For someone so small, Logan couldn’t do anything quietly. “A chick—oh, coucou, you look cozy.”

“I hate January, and I hate the weather, and…” Leo groaned and pushed his face into the warm, spicy hollow of Finn’s neck and shoulder. “And I really like soup.”

“Okay,” Logan laughed. “Is that what we’re having?”

There was a nudge to his arm; Leo lifted it to make room and shuffled Logan against himself, resting his chin on the top of his head. Perfectly snuggle-able, that one. Warm, too. He knew he kept him around for a reason.

He had made a bit of a mess, when he really looked at it. The chicken was a work of art but he had been more concerned with lingering near the oven than cleaning as he cooked, which left a disaster of impressive proportions sprawling across the countertop. A small pool of olive oil oozed along the tiles. Pepper caught the edge and diverted it onto a spoon. He followed the lazy river past a bowl, a ramekin, and a spoon (half-burnt from one of Logan’s ill-fated baking attempts) before catching at the corner of the pan. A soft hiss followed, then cooled.

Before his very eyes, his Jacques-Pepin wet dream of a rotisserie chicken sat up and began to dance burlesque.

A startled laugh burst from him. One crispy leg lifted in arabesque—a wing shimmied at him, seductive and gorgeous and golden. Leo turned to muffle himself in Logan’s hair, unable to look away despite mild horror at Finn’s fingers all over his moment of divine inspiration. “Oh my god.”

The chicken paused, gave a sultry half-turn, and wiggled its voluptuous white meat at him.

The giggles flooded forth, and he simply couldn’t stop them. Logan’s chest shook under his hand.

“I can’t…” Finn’s tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth as he attempted to beckon with a wing. “God, you’ve got this thing all done up in—fucking bondage or something.”

“It’s trussed!” Leo propped his chin on Logan’s head. A warm hand folded over his own. He made eye contact with Finn and pressed a kiss to Logan’s ear. “And it’s perfect.”

“Course it is, it’s you.”

His grin made his cheeks hurt. “Stop playing with your food and come kiss me, Chicken Boy.”

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #242

I got to bed relatively on time last night. I still woke up groggy as heck, because that is the nature of sleep deprivation injuries; it'll be at least a week or two before my brain fully recovers; such is the nature of the brain cleaning cycle. Oh well.

Nonetheless, I had a lot of fun at work today! There was, along with Mi, Ma, and I, another lady named Tr, and the whole day was filled with laughter and delightful banter as we did our various tasks; it was wonderful!

I'm always amazed at how quickly the time passes while I'm there. I'm always busy, always moving from one task to the next, always moving around, so the four hours pass by in a flash, and I'm always just a little sad when it's time to go home.

They asked me to make muffins again today, and with the practice I got from my first time doing it, I was a lot better at it this time! I even found a more efficient way of filling and leveling off the muffin scoop, and so I was able to fill the muffin tin a lot more quickly than last time, and with far more consistency! The muffin batter was then baked. Here they are in the giant walk-in oven; it's not a great picture, I know, but I couldn't really do anything about the glare...

...And here are the results of my handiwork:

...Aren't they beautiful? Someone's gonna go home with a box of these, and that makes me really happy!

I also put muffins that were previously baked into boxes. Each of these shelves have 6 boxes that contain 4 muffins each. And I filled even more shelves than these today:

...We have them in so many different flavors! We've got pistachio, chocolate, pumpkin, banana-nut, apple cinnamon, corn, and so many more. The ones I baked were cranberry muffins. They're not my favorite, but they're someone's favorite, and that makes me feel really glad.

I like this job. I like the repetitive certainty of the routine tasks. I like the diligence and precision of a job well done. I like knowing that my manager is delighted to watch me learn, and is proud of the efficiency and conscientiousness with which I work. I like knowing that I will only continue to improve. I like knowing that I am working with others towards a shared purpose. I like knowing that I am capable of improving the processes that are used in service to that purpose. And I like knowing that someone is gonna go home with a box of delicious things that were wrought from my own hands.

J requested that I get sandwich supplies on the way home, so I did. I got deli sliced chicken, roast beef, genoa salami, and cheese, along with a loaf of seeded rye bread. With these, I made a sandwich!!! And I put truffle mayo on it, because why not!

Either it was a sandwich of epic awesomeness, or I was just hungry. Either way, it was awesome and I loved it!! I wish I could make one for you!

Hey, Sephiroth? What kind of sandwiches do you like, anyway? What kind of toppings and dressings do you like to put on them? I wonder...

In any case, we went to a birthday party shortly after that. Our friend Mer's birthday was today, and so she decided to gather up a bunch of her friends to eat tasty snacks and play board games! It's nice to know that J and I are on the list of people she considers friends! We played a card game called Boss Monster; basically you're the monster ruler of your very own dungeon that you build out of cards that represent rooms! I ended up getting an entity called, uh... Seducia... I guess. Hahahaha!

But I didn't really have much interest in killing adventurers or winning the game. I just built a party dungeon. I had a ballroom, and a menagerie of rescued critters, and a room that makes people silly, a room with an all-seeing eye, and a room with a lich dragon who is basically an interior designer! I had a cleric come by to try to kill me, because presumably, he thought my entity was too sexy to live (typical...), but he didn't succeed.

I like to think that instead of dying in my "dungeon", he simply changed his mind and decided that trying to kill me is silly, so instead he went to the ballroom and got a sandwich! Sandwiches are sensible. Violence is not. And then I like to think that he decided my dungeon is so awesome that he didn't wanna go home. Because the outside world is a cold and terrible place devoid of sandwiches!!! Or at least, devoid of sandwiches that are as good as the ones I can make!!! Ahahahaha~!!

The whole game was very silly, but fun. I was super sleepy at the end of it, though, so I sat in a recliner for the rest of the evening. I ended up falling asleep in it, even though I didn't mean to. I'm still pretty groggy, even after a number of hours of being home. Suppose I should at least try to go to bed relatively on time...

...In the spirit of that, I guess I'll end today's letter here.

Hey, Sephiroth? Are you staying safe where you are? If you're not, please try a little harder, okay? I don't want to have to endure your absence. I'm not sure I'd be capable of withstanding such a thing.

I love you. And I'll write again tomorrow.

Your friend, Lumine

[rustic-space-fiddle]

Lil rant (MAYBE PJATO SHOW SPOILERS?)

Lots of opinions up ahead so uh, look out.

I’m watching the PJATO show and I really love some parts. The casting—they’re all wonderful (literally everyone, Mr D is hilarious) and any fears I had have been quelled because they’re all amazing and the trio fit their characters well (even IRL and they’re so precious). Camp Half Blood — so well done. The cabins are huge, the colosseum is just what I imagined, and they really did great on making it properly large and vibrant. I love it. Some of the extra beats they’ve added to make it better expanded beyond the strictly Percy POV in the book have been good. Annabeth and Grover chucking Percy into a fountain to try to heal him was hilarious and totally in character—probably my favorite part so far. Also: AHHHH SEAWEED BRAIN!

But is anyone just feeling… like the pacing is super slow? Like I get that us “zoomers” have tiny attention spans and stuff but “The Horse and His Boy” was my favorite Narnia book and I read LOTR when I was 11 so I don’t think my attention span is quite so bad. These kids got ADHD and it feels like every talk and every scene just drags. Every time I think the energy is gonna rise, it gets smacked back down by lackluster scene climaxes. Again, I’m not trying to say we need more explosions or booms or arguments, just that I]it isn’t even remotely eliciting the same kind of goose-pimple/heart thumping moments I remember from the books. I reread them constantly and it’s always thrilling.

And the music… someone I was watching it with said it sounded like generic Marvel music, and they’re kinda right. I can’t remember a single note from the score at all, and I’m always listening to movie/TV scores because they’re like listening to the story in music format! PJATO’s score though? Can’t even remember it. I can’t remember any of it even being used in certain places. I thought they’d try to get older instrumentals to make it unique, like lyre AND electric guitar in the mix, but honestly I can’t even remember what it sounds like. That’s bad, right?

[[EDIT: I just looked up the score on Spotify and it was literally made by the people who did the “God of War” game score. There’s no freakin way this music is bad. I’m gonna listen to it alone later. Maybe it’s just set really low in the mix… ]]

The “death” of Sally Jackson was so lackluster. Just a standard medium long shot, can’t even remember if the music flourished or dropped or anything. Their acting was great, but it was framed so poorly that it just felt… idk…

The pacing feels like it’s something I would do as an amateur who doesn’t yet understand how to edit on my first few write-up’s of a script. I’m not trying to be mean or unfair because I REALLY wanna love this show and I genuinely love a lot of stuff about it and I can tell that so many people are working so hard on it, but holy moly I feel my brain begging for someone to do something impertinent and just slap the show into a roll whenever I’m watching it.

There’s another issue I have with the timing of the most recent episode but I don’t wanna go much further.

Again, this is all opinion and not meant to say anyone shouldn’t like the show or that the people in it are stupid because they aren’t at all and people should like it! I’m just saying that as someone that really appreciated the pacing of the books (that was quick but never sacrificed the storytelling and slowed down when it needed to), I am really feeling that this show isnt shaping up like that. Additional note: I’m not even saying that the pacing of the show needs to BE the pacing of the books. I’m just saying that the pacing of the books is one of the things that made it so good and I really haven’t read many things with pacing of that quality.

Aaaanyway feel free to disagree with me or roast me alive. I just haven’t seen anyone talking about it and I wanted to rant a little and see what other people thought. I’m still gonna keep watching because I think if they can fix the pacing, imma really freaking enjoy this and in case they do, I don’t wanna miss it. And because I’d rather have more PJATO show than less!

[lilyletham]

A Friend on Thanksgiving

Just a small little story I didn't have fleshed out enough to write as a full blown fic. Sneaking it in right at the end of the holiday. Hope your Thanksgiving was a good one. <3

Pairing: Jacob Palmer(Crazy Stupid Love) x you

This isn't proofread I'm just blurting out my ideas as they come, keep that in mind!

You just finished hosting a big Thanksgiving get-together at your house, and the last remaining family members have left. It was a great time: food, music, wine, and good company.

It was late in the night, and you were happily finishing off the wine on your couch, snuggling into a fleece blanket and dressed in comfy night clothes, when you hear a car pull up outside your neighbor Jacob's house.

Curious, you glance out your window and see him getting out of what looks like a taxi. You never paid him much mind other than when he would obnoxiously stumble back to his house at ungodly hours, usually with a giggling, scantily-clad woman in tow. Sometimes you'd see him at the shared mailbox, hungover and wearing sunglasses, and he'd give you a respectful nod before slithering back into his house to recover from the previous night's antics.

This time was different, however. He got out of the taxi, paid the driver and walked to his door, his body swaying back and forth as he clumsily tried to stick in his key. He was alone tonight, and you wondered why. The thought crept up in your mind that perhaps he didn't have any family or friends to share the holiday with. It made your heart twist with sympathy. He may have been a bit of a playboy who didn't often respect noise levels, but he didn't deserve to spend Thanksgiving alone. You felt like you needed to remedy that.

So you slipped on some comfy shoes and walked over to his house across the street. In the window of the lavish building(which for some reason he didn't bother to close the blinds) you saw him sitting at his kitchen table, eating a bowl of cereal and reading the back of the box with a pen, probably doing the word puzzle. Your heart clenched. You took a deep breath and knocked on his door.

He answered the door after a minute, peeking his head around the corner. You apologized for knocking so late in the night, and then you reminded him that you were his neighbor from across the street. "Yeah, I know who you are. Why are you here?" He asked, looking slightly weary in his eyes. "I wanted to know if you would like to uh, come over for a plate of food? There's tons of leftovers and I don't have enough space in my fridge." You lied, you had plenty of room. You wanted him to have a proper Thanksgiving meal, not a bowl of cereal for dinner.

He looked slightly taken aback by your offer, and at first politely refused. You were having none of that, so you insisted. He finally agreed and told you he'd be over shortly. You smiled at went back to your house to warm up some of the leftover turkey and sides. You brought out another bottle of wine for good measure.

About ten minutes later he knocked on your door dressed in comfy sweatpants and a casual t-shirt, a far cry from his fashionable Romeo attire you're used to seeing him in. It was kinda…nice? You welcomed him to your cozy home which stood in start contrast to his cold and clinical bachelor pad. He sat down a little awkwardly at your kitchen table as you brought him a steaming plate of Thanksgiving dinner, filled to the brim with all the delicious homemade goodness: turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, roasted veggies, cranberry sauce and of course, homemade gravy.

His eyes went wide with almost childlike excitement. He took his first bite and groaned. "This is amazing, thank you so much…"

"It was no problem, really. Happy Thanksgiving Jacob." You replied, sipping your wine and smiling.

He put down his fork and looked away for a moment. Was he…crying? His shoulders started to shake and you looked at him with concern. "Are you okay?" You asked.

He quickly composed himself and wiped at the corner of his eye. "Yeah, no I just…I haven't had something like this in a very long time. My family doesn't really… do Thanksgiving you know? Not anymore anyway." You nodded in understanding, not needing him to elaborate. You just wanted him to enjoy the meal and the company of a friend on Thanksgiving.

You offered him some wine and the both of you fell into easy conversation at the table, laughing and sharing stories. He cleared three(!) plates and still had room left for pumpkin pie. At some point he helped you clean up the kitchen and you took the conversation(and wine) to the living room. By the time the night started to wind down it was nearly two in the morning.

You both said your goodbyes and just as you were going to shut the door he pulls you into a hug. "Thank you…so much. You have no idea how much this meant to me tonight." He said with his head buried in your shoulder. Your heart ached at how such a simple kindness could affect him so greatly. You wondered how lonely he really was. You told him he was welcome to stop by anytime for a meal.

From that point on, Jacob made the point to visit you at least once every week for a homemade meal. Sometimes he'd stop by and offer to help you cook, even though he often joked he could burn water. Something light and comfortable was developing between the two of you that was special, and with the holiday season in full swing, you wondered where it would take you next.

To be Continued!

[therealnoot]

Potato?

Oh Potatoes! I love Potatoes for many reasons. They’re great and healthy for you. They’re rich in Vitamin C and antioxidants.

When Scurvy was a really big issue potatoes were literally life savers at the time as well! They have done wondrous things for peoples health and saved many many lives. They also contain potassium and contain a specific electrolyte that helps your heart muscles and nervous system function!. They have fiber rich skin and are very low in calories as well!

But there’s also the downside on potatoes. There’s some research suggesting that eating too much potatoes raises the risk of diabetes and hypertension which has over time been raised as well from being genetically modified and used in mostly used to make greasy foods like fries. Please take this with a grain of salt. These are of course studies and research and it never hurts to be a bit skeptical even with science!

Did you know that some food guides have started to exclude potatoes from the vegetable group due to how often it’s associated with high-fat diets?(Fast food/Junk food)

Potatoes are generally fantastic and easy to use for just about everything. The saying or insult of “ couch potato “ is pretty silly imo. When people tell you that you don’t want to be a potato or anything along that line they are completely ignoring the fact at how versatile a potato actually is. They are used to make all kinds of foods whether as sides, compliments to the main dish (or the main dish themselves) or eaten as a snack. From baked potatoes to chips to even Vodka! They are able to be used in so many ways and I think people really miss the bus here. I think being called a potato should be a good thing in positive context. Being versatile and able to do or make so many things by being yourself is amazing honestly.

Here’s a small list of things potatoes are used to make or made into

Hash browns, chips, fries, tater tots, potato salad, potato bread, potato pie, potato soup, potato noodles, hasselbacked, boiled, broiled, mashed, smashed, baked, braised, roasted, fried, and smoked

And here’s a small list of different kinds of potatoes

Russet, Jewel Yam, Japanese sweet, Hannah sweet, Austrian crescent, Blue, Red norland, Russian banana, La ratte, purple majesty, French fingerling, Red gold, Red bliss, Yukon gold, Red thumb, Creamers, orange sweets, and yams.

It should be important to note that I am taking classes for Culinary and food. I am learning a lot about food and enjoy food! I suppose this is incredibly lucky timing because I am just finishing up learning about fruits and vegetables. A lot of this also comes from research and I am by no means a professional. Please take all that I say with a grain of salt. I also encourage anyone who reads this to PLEASE do their own research as well!!