#bath and body works cider

[y2kbeautyandother2000sstuff]

Bath and Body Works Spiced Cider Pillar Candle

late 1990s

Found on Ebay, user stuff-n-things70 

[stingrayextraordinaire]

Bath and Body Works Moodboards // Plum Cider Warmth

There's a chill in the air, and the leaves are a kaleidoscope of brilliant colors, with notes of mirabelle plum, apple cider, golden rum, cashmere vanilla, and sugared musk.

[fallthings22]

[angelpassing-by]

THAT SHELL WE CALL A BODY

Characters: Kaeya, Neuvillette, Ayato [blu bois] x [fat!/size neutral!fem!reader] Cw: discussion of weight and body, self image issues, suggestive (?) [maybe if you squint your eyes in Kaeya's part], descriptions of food (i'm so sorry, i just love ice-cream and as a lactose intolerant i just spend all summer daydreaming about it, I literally can't shut up about ice-cream for three months straight), vage mention of dieting. I hinted at this like two months ago, but the Neuvi part just didn't come through as I wanted it, after redoing it several times [and experiencing that first hand] I think I'm now satisfied. So basically you are feeling bad about your body due to different things and the bois comfort you A/N: bad English be aware. 𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓈𝑜𝑜𝑜 𝓈𝓊𝓅𝑒𝓇 𝓅𝓇𝑒𝓉𝓉𝓎 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓈𝓅𝑒𝒸𝒾𝒶𝓁. 𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒷𝑜𝒹𝒾𝑒𝓈 𝓌𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝓂𝑒𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝒿𝓊𝒹𝑔𝑒𝒹 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝑒𝓃𝒿𝑜𝓎𝑒𝒹. 𝒻𝒶𝓉𝓃𝑒𝓈𝓈 𝒾𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝒶 𝓂𝑜𝓇𝒶𝓁 𝒹𝑒𝓈𝒸𝓇𝒾𝓅𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒻𝓊𝒸𝓀 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝓌𝒽𝑜 𝒹𝒶𝓇𝑒𝓈 𝓉𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝓀 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓇𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝓂𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝒶𝓈𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓅𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈 𝒷𝒶𝓈𝑒𝒹 𝑜𝓃 𝒾𝓉.

𝓚𝓐𝓔Ⴘ𝓐

It had been years since you last enjoyed a bathing afternoon in Cider Lake followed by a relaxing nap in the Sun. That's how you would spend your childhood summers, splashing and running around in the rocky shore. That was until your teens where you started to become self-conscious about your looks, you didn't look like you "were supposed to", although you weren't too sure how you were even supposed to look.

When you managed to start dating Kaeya the self-loathing began to disappear because, if someone as him, the famous Calvary Captain no less, could love you so deeply, how could you be unlovable? Nevertheless, you tried to hide your body as much as possible and limit the intimacy with each other.

"Maybe if my thighs were smaller, and if I had a slim waist. If, if, if..." As every summer you stand in front of the bathroom mirror, inspecting your body from all angles, comparing with those pretty girls you saw in books and movies. Maybe there's something wrong with me, you had tried it all, exercise, diet, but nothing worked and just made your anxiety sky rocket which in turn made you gain the weight all back again.

"Hey, pretty" your boyfriend suddenly pops behind you snaking his arms around you and plants a kiss in your exposed shoulder.

"Don't say that" you grumble suddenly mortified by the image you two make, him, lean and tall, and you, a tiny and chubby.

"Why?" He kisses your other shoulder and stares into your reflection. "You are the prettiest girl I've ever seen."

"I can't believe you, I'm so fat and ugly and- " Kaeya cuts you off.

"You are adorable and you are so fucking soft" His eyes lock with yours through the mirror and he continues softening his serious tone. "You were literally made for me to hug, your thighs are the best pillow when I come home tired, not to mention how hot you look whenever you wear something short" He playfully pats your butt and you can't help but giggle.

"I do have a great ass" You say and he laughs kissing the side of your neck. "So you don't think I'm ugly, even though I don't look like those thin models and actresses?"

"Don't be silly you are much hotter with your soft curves and those legs, damn, I'd be the happiest man if I got to die of asphyxiation between them." He responds, dramatically placing a hand on his chest as if your words had mortally hurt him.

He hugs you again, tighter. "Now seriously, you are pretty, and hot and beautiful and I don't think any other woman in the world could compare to your beauty. And even if you don't believe me, let me tell you that there's no more perfect body for you than your own. And I love you, and I love every inch of you, it doesn't matter how it looks because it's you, and the people who really love you will see how gorgeous you are. And of course, what a great ass you have."

That is the little push you need, seeing the feral look in your boyfriend's eyes as he ogles you, the way his hands hold you with such care and his lips place ghost kisses along the curve of your neck.

"Do you fancy spending the evening in Cider Lake?" You ask softly.

𝓝𝓔𝓤𝓥𝓘ℒℒ𝓔𝑇𝑇𝓔

"Dearest, is something wrong?" Your boyfriend's voice wakes you up from your thoughts.

"Um, yeah, just thinking, that's all" You answer trying to act normally as if thousands of horrible insults to yourself weren't running through your mind in that same moment.

"So, do you want some ice-cream?"He inquires pointing towards the parlor’s poster displaying some of the most delicious sweets you've ever seen, ranging from mint and berries to an elaborate chocolate dessert with sugar sprinkles and cookies toppings.

Your right foot starts bouncing nervously as you shift your gaze around, avoiding Neuvillette's piercing gaze.

"No, I'll pass" You respond. That's probably one of the hardest things you've ever done. There's truly nothing like having a cold ice-cream under the scorching heat of Fontaine's summer strolling along the crowded streets of the capital. But you saw that woman's look, the woman next to the pharmacy, just in front of both of you, that look you knew all too well: "she shouldn't be out here eating more, that's the reason she looks like that". Sadly, one too many passing comments and dismissive looks from your family had made you recognize it from a young age.

Neuvillette gives you a quizzical look but doesn't push any further. He orders himself something you don't have the courage to look at and meanwhile you focus on his pretty hair, the way it reflects the sun in his high ponytail. Of course he had let you tie a ribbon for him before going out and you smile inwardly reliving the sweet moment.

Which is, of course, spoiled by that woman, staring intently from across the street. When you try to return her stare she just looks you up and down with a peculiar face, one you sadly also know. The look that says, "maybe if you were better, you would look better, like me."

The burning shame sets across your face, painting your features reddish. You feel so, so stupid, after all this time, you think, it shouldn't affect me like this.

"Neuvi, can we go home already? I think I'm getting a bit tired" You urge your boyfriend as soon as he gets his treat, starting to walk a few steps ahead him so he can't see your watery eyes.

"Of course, darling, do you want me to call a doctor? I happen to know..." His voice is usually reassuring and warm, but now the world is just too hot and your head spins with anger and sadness. You stop focusing on his words as you both walk home, him, still a step behind you and you, still containing your tears.

At home, your boyfriend grabs your hands before you get the chance to get away, leading you to the velvety blue couch in the living room.

"Hey, are you fine? You've been kind of distracted this afternoon." His tone is laced with concern.

"Yes Neuvi" But your answer does not convince him.

"Are you forgetting love that you talking to the Iudex of Fontaine? Not even the most expert criminals can lie to me, and you, love, aren't really good at lying."

"'M sorry Neuvi-"

"I don't want to press you to tell me something you don't want to tell me, but I just want to know if there is something I can do about it."

Those words just break the little self-control that maintains your tears at bay. They start rolling around your puffy cheeks as heavy droplets of rain. With a concerned look, Neuvi hugs you closer, reassuringly tracing circles in your back with his hand. I'm between sobs and hiccups you manage to explain the situation as best as you can.

"- it's just, I know it must sound stupid, but -"He shushes you cupping your face in his hands.

"Nothing my pretty lady sais is stupid, do you want me to get that rude woman in jail?"

"What? No!" You exclaim with a horrified look, "It's not that important."

"Well, it is, staring disrespectfully at others is an offense and you have feelings, feeling that have been hurt, feelings that very much matter to me. Nobody should look down others and that woman had no business judging whatever you were or weren't doing."

You huff "What are you going to do then, send everyone that looks at me like I'm thrash to jail?"

"Of course, nobody has the right to determine how you feel towards your body" He gets up more determined than before, "Now, does my pretty lady want an ice-cream" His look is so serious that you can't help but feel like you are in one of his trials, but nonetheless, you respond with an equally composed voice, albeit broken at the end by a little chuckle.

"I'd like that very much Sir Iudex of Fontaine."

𝓐Ⴘ𝓐𝑇𝓞

You can't do it, you can't, well, that annoying little voice in the back of your head keeps you saying that you can't, all because of that stupid summer gala your boyfriend Ayato had convinced you to attend.

It had all started last week, with a scented letter from one of the many upstanding noble women in Inazuma. Ayato had come into your shared bedroom at night, just as you were going to sleep, waving it around. He was so excited you just casually agreed to be his companion, after all, as he had said, you had been a couple for a long time now and you always had refused to attend to such events with him.

He got you a delicately embroidered kimono made with the finest of silks just to match his attire, an ornate fan imported from Liyue, even sparkling blue glass hair pins. All you could do was cry for days. And now, again, you walk around the empty tea room adjacent to your bedroom feeling like an stranger.

You look like an ugly thing pretending to be a pretty girl. That's what that little voice reminds you each time you catch a glimpse from your reflection on the vases.

You will ruin his reputation, what will people think when they see him with something like you?

"Is everything all right Lady?"Thoma's voice startles you and you stop your pacing to look at the man's concerned face.

You nod absentmindedly and offer a weak smile. Thoma seems skeptical, however, he bows and leaves you alone again with your thoughts until your inner monologue is disturbed again not too long after.

"Dear, may I come in?" Ayato's voice is heard following two soft knocks on the door.

"Yes, it was Thoma, wasn't it?" You ask a bit too dryly as the door peeks open.

"Yes, but-" Ayato stops dead in his tracks when his gaze falls upon you. "Oh Heavens, you look truly incredible. Why didn't you tell me you were trying your outfit on? I would've worn mine too. Though I'm afraid nobody will look at me with such beauty by my side."

"Don't laugh at me." You huff with a scornful look.

"I'm not." He looks positively puzzled at your words. "You are stunning."

You cross your arms and narrow your eyes at your boyfriend, "Well, I'm not sure I should go with you."

"Did I do something wrong? Is it the dress? I should have ordered something more luxurious, I don't know what I was thinking. Maybe if-"

"No, no" You cut your boyfriend's panicked diatribe. "It's me." To that he truly looks dumbfounded. "Can't you see it? I look... not like you."

"What?" He tilts his head like some sort of confused puppy waiting for further instructions.

"I don't look thin and tall and imposing like you, I don't want others to judge you because of me" That wasn't entirely the truth, even if some high society folk spoke poorly about you, no one would dare to disrespect the Yashiro Commissioner. No, you just didn't measure up.

"That's not going to happen. Besides, it shouldn't matter what anyone thinks of you. Not even me." he gestures to himself "Although if you don't mind me saying, your curves look positively breath taking in this thin silk."

"I don't know if I believe you"

"Don't believe me, you don't have to like your body, but rather, see the value in what it offers."

He spins you around, the blue kimono shifting with your motions, one, two, three times, until you take his hand and begin dancing around the tea table. Now, the reflection of the vases depicts a lovely woman with a regal attire. Yes, she's chubby and soft, but that only makes her look more ethereal. And you realize a split second after that you are that woman.

Maybe you are just as beautiful as you boyfriend thinks, but even if you aren't, you are grateful to have a body that allows you to dance clumsily and with no music whatsoever in a tea room just before sunset.

[lovelytsunoda]

kiss me down by the broken treehouse // mick schumacher

summary: honeymoons in the midwest, heart shaped jacuzzis and scented bubble bath. this is how mick wants the rest of his life to be

pairing: mick schumacher x newlywed reader!

warnings: vague allusions to sex, two people being sickeningly in love, bathing together. nicolas cage should be a warning in itself

author's note: this is the last fic in the cozy collection and not gonna lie, it's making me very emotional. thank you for coming along for this cozy and warm, and sometimes scandalous adventure <3. i can't wait to share the christmas collection with you all.

the hotel suite was dim as she slipped the rose gold wedding band off her finger, dropping it on the dresser next to the almost identical one her husband wore.

mick was sitting by the window, lighting a tangle of scented candles as the heart-shaped jacuzzi tub filled with bubble bath.

"baby, what's all this?" she asked softly, leaning down to kiss him.

they had spent the day in town, visiting country stores and hiking trails, downing more apple cider than mick had ever thought possible. they were cold to the bone when they returned to the hotel, but that didn't stop mick from pulling his wife into bed and reminding her just how happy he was to spend the rest of their lives together.

"just another way to show how much i love you." mick hummed, reaching for the bottle of champagne he'd had room service deliver on their way back to the bed and breakfast. "i figured the best way to end the night was a nice bubble bath and a movie."

she smiled, giggling as she kissed the side of his head. "i knew there was a reason i married you."

she disentangled herself from mick, slender fingers making quick work of the belt holding her plush hotel robe together, fabric pooling over the floor and revealing her naked body to her lover.

blushing furiously, mick turned off the tap, quickly filling two champagne flutes before stripping out of his own hotel robe.

“after you, my darling wife.” he grinned, taking y/ns hand and helping her into the tub. he slipped under the bubbles after her, nuzzling into her back and pressing a kiss to her shoulder blade. “ich liebe dich.”

“I love you too, mickie.”

she settled on one of the built in tub seats, smiling at her husband before she looked dreamily out the frost covered window. the trees in the vermont woods next to the hotel were dyed shades of red-orange, the colors themselves beyond breathtaking.

“whatcha starin’ at, pretty girl?” mick pondered, kissing the top of her head as he settled in next to her.

“the trees. nature. it’s beautiful. how did you manage to get a room with such a great view?”

mick shrugged. “turns out, telling the hotel you’re on your honeymoon gets you special privileges. but that view isn’t as a great as the one I had earlier when I was on top of you. or the view I have every morning when I wake up with you in my arms.”

she giggled, playfully slapping his shoulder. "mickie!"

mick laughed, kissing the side of her head before reaching for the laptop next to the tub. "how do you feel about the nicolas cage dracula movie?"

"absolutley not! when i get nightmares, are you going to nurse me back to sleep?"

"yes." mick said solemnly, loading up amazon prime on his laptop. "one hundred percent."

y/n snickered, reaching for the champagne. once mick schumacher was alseep, not even a tornado could wake him up. "babe, we both know you'd sleep right through. you sleep like a goddamn rock."

"yeah, babe. you're right. but nicolas cage is in it, it wont be that scary."

“I’m not worried about it being scary; I’m worried about it being gory.” she rolled her eyes, taking a sip of champagne. “if I start watching ‘renfield’ through my fingertips, you’re on your own, mickie.”

mick giggled, hitting the play button before pulling his wife into his lap. “consider me warned. we can watch the original halloween afterwards.”

“you’ve got yourself a deal, husband.” she laughed, passing him a champagne flute.

the room was small and cozy, lit only by the blue glow from micks laptop and the candles around the bath, the air filled with the calming scents of vanilla, cinnamon and pumpkin. micks gentle fingers trailed up and down her thigh as they watched the movie together, sipping champagne and enjoying each others company.

every so often, mick filled the silence with a small praise, a gentle kiss against his wife’s skin. it was still so surreal to him that he would get to hold her in his arms, every day, for the rest of his life.

she rested her head on his shoulder, placing the empty glass back on the ledge outside the tub before she properly folded her body against his, fingertips mindlessly tracing shapes on his chest, the fine blonde hairs dotting his pecs matted to his skin by the water, a few errant bubbles still stark against his skin.

she loved him, truly madly and deeply.

it seemed like just yesterday they had met each other, although it had been almost four years. four great years of love and laughter and highs and lows. and in a blink of an eye, there she was, in her white dress, in micks arms as they danced to a bryan adams song.

four years of feelings she wasn’t sure she’d ever have the joy of feeling for another living, breathing person. and she wouldn’t trade it for anything.

when the movie was half over, candle wax dripping into hardwood and the bubbles all faded away from the lukewarm water, skin dried out and pruny, only then did the newlyweds emerge from the heart-shaped tub.

micks touch was gentle as he helped his wife dress in her long, pale nightdress, silk dusting the carpet as she pulled down the handmade quilt, ready to fold herself into bed next to her husband.

he slipped into bed next to her, laying the laptop down in front of them. his fingers played with her hair, twirling strands around her finger before he began to lazily braid a small section, the last half of the movie playing on the small screen.

“mick?”

“yeah?”

“I’m so excited to spend my future with you.”

“me too, Liebling.” he smiled, kissing her forehead. “we’ve got so much to look forward to.”

BONUS

y/nschumacher ❤️🍂

TAGS

@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @lorarri @diorleclerc @userlando @thatsdemko @oconso @sidcrosbyspuck @cartierre

[diavolo-is-babygirl]

Having a stressful day?

Barbatos will make you the perfect pumpkin spice latte at the end of your day. Perhaps you may want an apple cider or hot chocolate. No matter. The perfect drink is already yours, thanks to Barbatos.

You and Diavolo will unwind after a long, grueling day, enjoying your Autumn themed drinks while immersed in a sea of pumpkin spice and apple cider candles. You took Diavolo shopping at Bath and Body Works, and he went a little too crazy with the candles, but you don't mind.

[angel-of-the-moons]

Over The Moon

Khonshu x Reader

TW/CW: None

A/N: This is something that hit me and I'm hoping writing it will help knock me out of my funk while I take a couple days to myself (going on a trip with some friends). So enjoy this little blurb of the tall pigeon man!

🌑🌑🌑🌑🌑🌑🌑🌑🌑🌑

It was time for the fireworks to start soon. The snow and ice chilled you to the bone, and you sat on a bench overlooking the Hudson River.

It was deserted, given the particular location of the bench, and the proximity to a one of the closed-down subway entrances, that housed the homeless.

Many people felt unsafe there, but you knew you'd always be safe at night. Especially around the homeless. They, like you, were under the protection of someone great.

Someone powerful.

Someone who... really needed to work on his people skills...

You turn your thermos in your hands, briefly passing the warmed metal into one palm while you checked the time on your phone.

Four minutes until the clock struck the new year; and the moon was as bright as ever. It was abnormally large as well, but it was beautiful and provided a gorgeous backdrop for the fireworks display that was due to start soon.

You slipped your phone back into your pocket and closed your eyes as snowflakes drifted down from the scattered clouds, a stray moonbeam peeking out here and there, always seeming to illuminate you and you alone; as if something--or someone--simply wanted to bathe you in the cool ethereal light of that lunar object.

You weren't sure how much time had passed until you felt the warm touch of someone's fingers grazing your cheek.

You open your eyes and turn your head to see the hulking, lithe frame above you.

His body was draped in linen and loose robes, a gold crescent moon secured to his chest. His colors seemed bleak, non-existent.

What completed his strange, otherworldly appearance was the dessicated bird skull that hung with some invisible force in place of what would be a human head.

His other hand gripped his staff as he leaned over the bench to peer at you with large, eyeless sockets.

"You are frigid." His voice rumbles through you.

You smile at him, sipping your hot cider. "Well that happens when it's only about 2 degrees outside, Khonshu."

"Hmph." He grunted, moving in a haze until he was sitting to your side, cross-legged on the ground next to the bench, his staff resting on his shoulder.

"Uh, Khonshu... There's a bench here..."

"I know."

"Then why--"

You were interrupted when his large hands encapsulated your waist and he pulled you down to him, firmly planting you in his lap, between his crossed legs.

You opened your mouth to complain about how he almost made you spill your cider--but the unnatural warmth his body exuded quickly snuffed the flame of your complaint as you sank against him with a contented sigh.

His body always carries the warmth of the deserts, the scent of sweet spices and just a hint of mildew. Most others wouldn't enjoy the combination of smells, but you enjoyed it.

He smelled... safe. You knew whenever you smelled him, no harm would ever come to you. That you would never be lonely.

"Better?" He asked, his voice almost condescending.

You stick your finger up, "This doesn't mean you won anything, old man."

"Of course it does. I am a god, Little Star." He chuckled, his arms circling around you to pull you close against his chest.

You chuckled back at him, bringing a frozen finger to caress the beak of his skull.

The texture was smooth, like a normal bone being sanded and smoothed down by endless days of being blasted by the sands of time.

"You're so full of yourself." You admonished playfully.

"Hmmh."

You jumped with a squeak when the first fireworks go off, casting blue-red glows down upon the two of you.

Your jolt of fear seems to amuse the god, and another warm chuckle rolls out of him, settling deep into your bones.

"Not funny." You huffed, trying to sound indignant but the smile on your lips betray your tone as you both lift your gazes to the sky at the bright lights booming high above.

You feel his arms tighten around your almost imperceptibly, caging you against him in a loving embrace.

Yes.

You knew, as long as he was here, you were safe.

And he was home.

[shesjustanothergeek]

His Love

|Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!Reader|

Part Eighteen

Masterlist of Series

Summary: Being a bastard born in the slums of Flea Bottom was all you were known for. Not the streak of white you had in your dark hair, the violet ring around your pupils, or how your sharp tongue and skills with the blade resembled your father, Daemon Targaryen. You were just a bastard, nothing more, but to him, to Aegon Targaryen, you were everything. You were his love.

Author's Note: Sorry for blue balling you for the past two weeks, but we're finally at the long-awaited feast for Aegon's 20th birthday! I hope my kitty meow meow gets everything he wishes for. Thank you so much for sticking with me through 18 chapters and counting! Y'all have no idea how much it means to me when I see every comment, note, or notification regarding this story. It always makes me so happy. :)

Chapter Warnings: Ableism, implied sex slavery.

"scream 

so that one day a

hundred years from now

another sister will not have to dry her tears 

wondering where in history 

she lost her voice."

- Jasmin Kaur

You were in the guest chambers, readying for the feast that concluded this week-long celebration. The days had been daunting, anxiety and hardship looming over you like a cloud covering the morning sun. You hoped the future held a more effortless and less taxing light, but your sense made you believe otherwise.

Fiora and Dyana took to bathing you, assuring your flesh had no speckle of dirt or sebum, inspecting each limb, then scrubbing with a floral soap imported from Yi Ti. They changed the typical lavender body oil you wore to a sweet and uplifting scent of Port Wine Magnolia for the special occasion, the candy-smelling flowers that were one of the many planted in Aegon the Conqueror's Garden. Jeyne sorted your attire, holding pieces of different golden jewelry to the sparkling cider of embroidered fabric that was your dress.

It was not your usual color choice, finding comfort with your family's statement reds and blacks. But tonight was not about Houses and the game of thrones you constantly played. It was only an evening meant for you to unwind, perhaps indulge more in food and wine, and dance until your feet bled.

You were drained from the daytime already, desiring to crawl under your refreshing cotton blankets and sleep until your servants woke you in the morn.

Jeyne hardened your struggle with consciousness as her gentle movements in your hair made you relax further, leaving your black tresses in the same underlying style from before but braiding it elegantly and sticking twinkling Aurelian pins to hold the thickness together.

The three ladies ushered you out to the Great Hall, escorting you until you heard the waves of laughter and the hum of music. The tall oak and bronze doors were left open for the many entering and exiting guests, chuckling in their expensive and different-colored outfits, each aiming to display their wealth to those around them. Two guards stood on each side of the frame, hands hanging stiffly at their sides.

The fare had yet to be served, but the small group of musicians in the corner played a spirited tune for the people dancing and clapping between the rows of long tables, a substantial pile of gifts just out of view. You wondered if Aegon was asked for input on this. You were sure if he was that there would be much fewer male servants working tonight and more women as you took an open seat closer to the royal family.

You assumed that you would be given a place at the high tableland with them since you were also a royal, but every chair was taken though there was plenty of room to fit more. No doubt a detail Queen Alicent enforced to slight your faction of uninvited Targaryens and further plant the seeds of their secession in the court's mind. Everything with the Hightowers was carefully planned and crafted to the final minute detail. You were zany to think tonight would be any different.

A male orderly walking with a silver tray in his palm caught your attention, signaling him to ask for a drink while you waited for the celebration to begin with the arrival of the King.

From Aegon's elevated off-centered place at the royal table, he could see all who came and left, sizing each noblewoman on who would be the easiest to bed. He was drowning in his cups before you entered, his blurry vision creating an almost ethereal glow to your silhouette in the gilded room.

You looked stunning, utterly unaware of the Prince's gaze. Aegon nearly lost his grip on his chalice filled with his favorite wine as he saw your sandy dress, dragons of the same color sewn into the bodice, reminding him of Sunfyre.

Did you pick that shade specifically for him, knowing it was his favorite? Had you stood in your bed chambers in your thin chemise, nipples pert from the cold air as you stared between your plethora of gowns and, by chance, settled with something he adored? No. You were a pragmatic woman, meticulously determining your and your opponent's next ten moves. You choose this for him.

Aegon knew you weren't upset after last night, a sentiment of relief settling in his gut along with the wine. It was just the loss of your post-coupling bliss that allowed doubt to fester. His little dragon was finally experiencing the emotions and urges that came with eros and didn't know how to cope appropriately. He remembered when he first encountered it. That insatiable itch. Having been exposed to sex at such a young age, Aegon understood what to do and how to handle it, placing his fist on his more petite cock during youth and pumping it until ecstasy.

You had grown in many ways, but with regards to fucking, you were still that same little girl from Flea Bottom with those peculiar, searching eyes, looking to him for guidance as you asked for the knowledge of pleasure.

The band finished playing their last melody as the King entered, the dancers parting like the sea to make room for his chair as they carried him to the middle of the high table. There was a small bandage on his cheek that had not been there earlier, and it made you smile, knowing that someone took your words seriously. Viserys stood from his wooden throne, using the table for support as he raised his brass goblet to the room.

"A toast," he wheezed, gazing at nothing imparticular, "in celebration of this joyous occasion. My eldest son, Prince Aegon, is now a youthful twenty, married to his beautiful Lady Wife with two healthy children." You noticed Helaena fidgeting in her olive green dress, looking down at her empty silver plate. "Let us drain our cups to the children of the House of The Dragon! May they live long and prosperous lives..."

Viserys trailed off with a cough but was drowned out by the roars of people shouting "hear! hear!" to his toast, vibrating the high narrow windows as the musicians started another upbeat tune.

Servants dressed in red emerged from the oak and bronze doors, carrying plates and trays of different food. Scores of delicacies were served before you. They brought pigs, mutton, goose, venison, and enough hearty sides to feed the entirety of Flea Bottom into the Great Hall. The smell was enough to make your mouth water, waiting to be served after the royal family as you took a swig of your wine, your rings clinking against the cup.

Through the flurry of servants and maids, you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. An uneasy feeling washed over you as a woman set a platter of meat on the table, blocking your vision for a moment but then revealing the fierce look of Dalton Greyjoy across the room. You had the urge to give him an annoyed expression for staring but thought better of it as you remembered his importance and position. Instead, you extended a smile, nodding your head as you began to plate heapings of food.

The eldest Prince was too engrossed with the arrangements of sweets in front of his mother to notice the exchange, sneaking a hand to snatch a sugar-coated puff pastry before the Queen could stop him.

Soon you had your full, eating in silence as the nobleman next to you was not one for conversation, no matter how you tried to start one. You could still feel Dalton's watchful brown eyes on you, attempting to ignore him as he observed every sip of wine and swallow of food you took. With the screech of Ser Otto Hightower's chair, he announced that the gift ceremony could commence, snapping Aegon out of his dessert-induced trance.

You were apprehensive about the present you got him, a simple, tiny box tucked into your skirt pocket. It was commissioned before what happened last night when you were in a happier and more sentimental mood. You regretted it sorely as you saw the different Lords and Ladies kneel before Aegon sat in a carved wooden chair before his family.

They bestowed him with countless grandiose and superficial gifts of swords, pelts, jewels, and a diamond-encrusted wine decanter. At one point, a Lord from Pentos came strolling in with two caramel-skinned women, all clad in turquoise and bronze. They were so beautiful and exotic-looking that they would shame the most gorgeous women in Westeros.

"A gift to you, my Prince," the man bowed, gesturing the women forward as their metal jewelry jingled. "My pick of the most beautiful desert flowers. May they serve you well in whatever way you desire."

The Queen bowed her head in embarrassment as her son eagerly rose from his seat, gathering the women under his arms as he thanked the man most graciously. Aemond placed a comforting hand on Helaena's back as she looked forward, not entirely seeing what was happening. Your expression mirrored Alicent's, looking away with downturned lips as Aegon stole a glance as he returned to his honorary throne.

You felt like a fool for getting him something so plain, the box it resided in burning through the palms of your hands. It would have been best had trusted your gut when walking into the local jewelsmith. At first, your present was meant to be an insult, knowing his desire for extravagant things and only getting something plain, but after the moment you shared in the Godswood, you decided to make an ordinary object into something special.

Your lip was nearly raw from your incessant chewing, feeling the thin liquid of blood pool into your mouth as you ripped a thin piece of skin.

After the line of people dwindled to only a few, you gained the courage to step in with the rest of the noble people, shifting your weight on the soles of your feet in anxiety. It also didn't help as you felt Ser Dalton stare at the side of your face, the urge to unsheath the dagger from your calve and plunge it into each of his annoyingly observant brown eyes. Life would be better without men in the world, you thought to yourself.

Soon you were only a meter away from Aegon and his two desert flowers leaning over his form, whispering words you did not want to hear as they trailed their fingers along his skin. He quickly swatted them away once he saw you standing before him. You inwardly scoffed as you bowed into a deep curtsy, your breasts nearly spilling out of your bodice, much to the Prince's delight.

He could now see you in all your beauty. The way your dress sparkled in the candle-lit room, watching your decorated chest rise with unsteady breaths. Aegon hadn't noticed the half-golden wreath of flowers on the back of your head, contrasting wildly from your silky black hair with rings of the same metal on your blanched fingers tightly gripping a small box. You were a picture of the Maiden with your radiant youth and innocence, and despite his best efforts, he felt his heart beat faster as he watched your painted lips move.

"Lady Targaryen, daughter of Daemon and Rhaenyra Targaryen," you introduced, even though Aegon knew who you were.

"Come now, sweet cousin! No need for formalities; we are kin!" He said jubilantly, his voice echoing in the cavernous hall. Aegon signaled a serving maid for another glass of wine, downing the entire contents of it and placing it back on the tray. "Now, what have you gotten me, cousin?"

You unfurled your grip, walking closer to Aegon before a steward came to have you gave the present to him. The Prince waved dismissively, rising from his chair as he met you at the foot of the stone stairs.

Opening the tightly sealed case, you took a breath.

"A ring for the eldest Prince of the Seven Kingdoms, crafted by the finest jewelsmith in King's Landing. Black garnet mined from the Dothraki Sea is the main centerpiece, and Rubies from our land in Westeros are embedded in the solid gold band," you paused a moment, steeling yourself for the consequences of your past actions as you angled the ring in the yellow light. "And here, a personalized message for His Grace."

As Aegon studied his nameday gift, you bowed your head, retreating a few paces. You saw his pupils dilate as he read it, his throat bobbing as he swallowed.

'For my sweet boy, Aegon.'

He left you to stand in uncomfortable silence, beginning to gnaw on your lower lip once more as he slipped the gift onto his left pinky, admiring it in the glow of the candles. Aegon met your gaze when finished, filling the gap you made with his tall but stocky body. You could smell the sticky scent of Arbor Red wafting off him, his lips stained.

Fear coursed within you at that moment, the memory of how he forced himself upon you the night prior flashing through your mind's eye, but you steeled yourself. Clenching your soft jaw and digging your nails into your palm until you were sure they broke the calloused flesh.

Aegon opened his arms, signaling he wanted to embrace in thanks for your present. You hesitated but leaned forward as you saw the hundreds of eyes watching you. He squeezed you harshly, nearly suffocating you as he brought his mouth to your ear, inhaling your candied scent before he whispered.

"You are too good to me, little one. I know you are frightened by what happened last night, but there is no need to be. Any uncertainties you have, your sweet boy will help you."

A shiver ran down your spine at his words, your knees nearly buckling as he pulled away and kissed both cheeks. You stood there for a beat too long, your head reeling at losing his warmth and the haunting things he promised. You swiftly curtsied again as you saw him plop down into his seat, a smirk on his rosy lips, and returned to your own.

You stayed there as the rest of the Lords and Ladies gave their gifts to Aegon, staring down at the food scraps on your plate, your appetite never returning, not even for dessert. When the sounds of stomping boots vibrated the stone floor, you still refused to look up, lost inside a blank yet cluttered mind.

You should be relieved that Aegon was not upset with you for abandoning him and that your plan could continue. You should be smiling, knowing that everything was falling into place, but you weren't. You were terrified. Terrified of what you had gotten yourself into. This was the only way to assure Aegon never ascended the throne, but the cost was almost too much to bear.

Your family.

Rhaenyra, Daemon, Jace, Luke, Joffrey, and even little Aegon and Viserys. You had to think of them. This was for them. Everything you did was for them. Selling yourself to Aegon and giving in to his depraved desires would save them all from a fate that could break the Targaryen dynasty forever. A small price to pay for the sake of those you loved, you told yourself.

"Cousin?" A soft angelic voice startled you from your stupor. "Would you care for a dance?" Helaena asked, her palm facing upwards as you stared at the serval vein-like wrinkles expanding across it.

You gave her a polite smile, though it did not reach your eyes, nodding as you wiped your hands on the green cloth napkin on your lap. Keep your mind off the impending future for a moment.

"It has been quite some years since I last shared a dance with you Princess," you said as her delicate fist wrapped around yours. "I am much more skilled at the art now."

Helaena giggled, leading you out to the ocean of people. "I seem to recall us never needing any guidance on it before. 'Tis more fun to sway to your own beat." Her grin reached her ears, crinkling the creamy skin around her eyes as she spun you in a dizzying circle.

Neither of you paid attention to the other's rehearsed moves, creating your own as you jumped, clapped, and spun. It felt like you were both girls again, laughing as she linked her slender arm with yours, skipping back and forth, your skirts in your free limb. The momentum of your movements continued as you grabbed her hands, lifting one arm to twirl her underneath you, her golden hair tickling your chin.

Helaena was always a beacon of light in the darkness, the embodiment of the lantern the Crone used to guide those in her wisdom. Her laugh was like the first breath of spring after a seemingly never-ending winter, her voice as gentle as the early morning rain in summer. She was all heart and kindness and too good for this world, too gracious to deserve the hand she dealt with.

Helaena loved her family and was one of the few who treated your brothers with the same politeness as if they were anyone else. She had a deep bond with her brother Aemond, a bond that only blood could give. The type you could only dream of with yours. And despite the man she was forced to marry, she still loved Aegon. Not the way a wife would love a husband, but the love of siblings who were forced into something they had no choice in, pushed into the confines of duty.

You felt guilt for what you did with Aegon, the disrespect and shame you would bring upon her if anyone found out. You knew she would not feel scorn the way a partner would, though that did little to ease your conscience. While it was a relief not to hurt Helaena like that, she would still have that same sense of betrayal she did when Aegon went out to the Silk Streets.

You resolved your thoughts. Helaena would have to understand why you did what you did unless she desired to see the casualties of war.

Pushing those feelings down, you brought another smile to your lips, your cousin placing her hands on your waist and spinning you until your steps faltered, nearly tripping over your skirts. Helaena steadied you, closing the space as she grabbed your biceps with a guffaw. She moved a strand of hair that had fallen over your shoulder in your promenade, smoothing it down your head as she rested her palm against the base of your neck. You watched her with a curious but joyful expression as her other hand moved to grip the side of your face.

To anyone observing from the outside, it appeared as if she was about to kiss you, but if they saw the look within her amethyst eyes, glazed over, looking at you. No. Looking through you, they would see she was not in the moment.

"Hand turns loom; spools of green, spools of black; dragons of flesh weaving dragons of thread," she whispered against your face, your noses nearly touching. You grasped Helaena's wrists, trying to pull her away as her touch became painful. "Beneath the boards, rats bite; their teeth burn, a sacrifice of her blood, peace reborn."

Her words covered you in a blanket of dread, cold and unwelcoming, as her nails dug into your skin. A whimper escaped your throat, wriggling uncomfortably at the sting and confusion.

The guests around you continued dancing, unaware of the agony piercing into your flesh, Helaena repeating her words with urgency.

"A sacrifice of her blood, peace reborn. A sacrifice of her blood, a sacrifice of her blood, her blood, her blood, her blood."

"Sister," a baritone voice cut through the air. Helaena suddenly released you with trembling fists, stumbling backward into her brother, clad in black leather.

"Aemond," she gasped, grabbing him by his forearms. "A sacrifice of her blood," she heatedly whispered as you placed a comforting palm on her shoulder.

You glanced at Aemond worriedly, but his eyes were trained on his younger sibling.

"Sister," Aemond repeated, this time softer. "Mother requests your presence at the table."

Helaena nodded absentmindedly, ridding her mind of her trance as her brother's one-piercing eye trailed after her retreating form. You continued to stare at Aemond, your mouth opening to speak before he interrupted.

"Pay no mind to Helaena; she sees and understands things in ways we could never comprehend."

You wished to ask for more but knew you would only receive what Aemond allowed. He was so protective over his sister, and you understood why. In spite of having a fearsome dragon of her own and having done the difficult task of birth while still a child, she was not hardened, nor did she need to be. She was just Helaena, meant to be guarded and cared for, and that was enough.

You started into a curtsy to bid Aemond farewell, assuming he had only come to rescue his sister, but instead stopped you with the wave of his hand and outstretched it, an invitation to dance. Raising a quizzical brow, you stared, eyes flickering from his chiseled face to wrinkled palm. Perhaps he felt obligated to offer it after Helaena had frightened you, but you still hesitated as you narrowed your eyes at him.

"My Prince, I know you have never cared for me or my brothers, so do not insult me with this farce of chivalry," you said unabashedly, crossing your arms.

You expected Aemond to give you a sneer, storming away and back to the high table with the rest of his family, but he did neither. On the contrary, he laughed wickedly and unwrapped your arms as the music changed to a darker ballad, the minor chords sending tremors up your spine.

As the One-Eyed Prince led you into song, you focused anywhere but on him, your lips pursed and your body stiff, attempting to put as much space between your linked elbows.

You continued your silent dance, refusing to be the proper lady your Septa taught you to be as Aemond lifted you into the air by your hips at the swell of the tune, forcing you to seek purchase on his slender shoulders. An arrogant smirk laced his lips as he brought you to the ground, your digits burying into his leather tunic for balance. He didn't give a moment to recover as he took your hands in his, pulling you close to his chest before unwinding you into a subtle push movement as you struggled to become centered.

Before you could think to protest his nauseated action, he brought you back in, twirling your arms so your back was pressed against his front, a position that was hardly proper for the duty-bound Prince.

"Have you found yourself well to be back in King's Landing?" Aemond purred darkly into your ear. You swallowed a lump that had formed in your throat, trying to turn your head to face him.

"It has been a rather eventful occasion, though it hardly looks of the Red Keep I know. If I were not any brighter, I would think this is the seat of House Hightower, not Targaryen," you replied coolly, voice neutral to not expel your beliefs.

He hummed in response, releasing you from his harsh embrace as you proceeded to the next step in the choreography. "It gladens me to hear you are in good spirits. I could not say the same if I wore your shoes."

You snuffed the instinct to sneer at the arrogant man. Tilting your head, you peered at him from your lower height as you began to circle one another, like a fox to a rabbit. Which one you were you did not know.

"Oh? And why would that be, your Grace?" you asked with feigned interest.

"If I were summoned to a place which held such harrowing memories, I would be aching to return home, not taking a permanent position on the Small Council," Aemond answered in a grandiloquent tone.

You had to resist the urge to bite at his jabs, nearly snarling your teeth before you took a calming breath, plastering your political costume that was a smile. You were keen to the art of backhanded courtly discussion and realized the second son was trying to get a rise out of you, tormenting the bastard princess when he could not do the princes.

"Time heals all wounds," you quipped shortly. "I've made peace with what happened to my family. They broke the law, and our honorable Lord Hand served justice." The Prince replied with a grunt to your lies, following with the other nobles in dance as they jumped and clapped on the beat. "Tell me, Prince Aemond, have you returned to Driftmark since that fateful night?"

You saw him stiffen as you repeated the movement from before on his other side, only to be stopped by an iron grip. "Do not presume to speak freely before me. I am a true-born prince of the realm, not a bastard to the Lord of Flea Bottom."

That had you smiling genuinely, rising to the tops of your feet as you met his one piercing eye with your two, brimming with barely controlled ire.

"A true-born second son, but not good enough to be the spare. A crippled boy whose eye was taken out by a child half his junior." Your words poured out like the molten steel of a sword, searing into Aemond's essence as the ballad ended.

Yanking your arm out of the Prince's grasp, you backed away; chin held high in triumph. He took significant bounding strides in your direction in response as you prepared to defend yourself just as Lucerys had. Perhaps you could carve out his working eye and offer it to the younger boy? He had told you of his fear regarding Aemond, the hatred he held in his heart for the loss of sight.

By the grace of the Seven, a loud shriek was heard from the head of the Great Hall, momentarily distracting Aemond as you scampered into the crowd of people, making your way to your seat. Luckily there was no danger to be found at the royal table, only Prince Aegon diving under the skirts of one of his desert flowers as men cheered and women turned away in shame. You ignored the disgust that came as you saw him lift her on his shoulders, his head hidden underneath the sheer layers of her dress.

***

The hour of ghosts was upon you, but the feast still raged, no signs of anyone retiring soon. The wine and mead had settled in everyone's stomachs, making for an ear-deafening obnoxious roar of laughter and cheers.

You, too, had begun to feel the effects of alcohol but had not ventured out to the dance floor since the interaction with Aemond. You were right to be cautious when he offered you his hand. It was only a ploy for him to gain superiority over someone he deemed less than him, but ultimately it failed, turning it around for him to become the victim of his own game. Life was cruel, but it was good not to be on the receiving end of it for once.

You rested your chin on your knuckles as you watched the twirling fools before you, yawning. You realized it was time to retire as you felt your fist slip out from under you, nearly slamming your face on the now-empty wooden table. Releasing a heavy sigh, you stretched your upper body, quietly groaning as you downed the last few drops of your drink.

"Surely, my Lady Targaryen, you are not retiring so soon," a familiar gravelly voice asked.

"I am, Ser Greyjoy. The hour grows late, and there is much to tend to on the morrow," you answered unhurriedly.

"I had hoped to steal you for a dance or two, but much of tonight, you were already preoccupied."

You scoffed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. "Not by choice, I am afraid. I would not have denied you had you asked," you replied truthfully, standing from your seat with another stretch.

"Well, if you'd allow me to escort you to your rooms, I'm sure we could make for lost time," he offered with the bend of his elbow.

You were exhausted from the facade required to put on for appearances and slouched as you took his offer without resistance.

Unbeknownst to you, a pair of violet eyes had followed the whole night, observing his little dragon but never moving to mount. He hadn't felt the need to until the squid boy hooked himself on you, a problem Aegon knew he would have to remedy but was unsure of how as he fidgeted with the new ring on his finger.

Aegon watched you exit the Great Hall with Ser Dalton, a frown tugging on his crimson-stained lips as he took another swig of his Arbor Red. The girls beside him noticed his sudden change in mood, one tracing an extended slim index along his jawline to capture his attention, the other whispering something he did not care to hear. He saw the squid lord link arms out of the corner of his eye before one of the women brought a full cup to his mouth, your glimmering golden dress a distant memory in his drunken mind.

"I must say, my Lady Targaryen, you looked ravishing tonight. The whole court could not take their eyes off you. I was afraid I might have to defend your honor," Ser Dalton chortled, following your lead down one of the many corridors that led to the guest wing.

"That must have been why I felt like I was being stalked like a doe in the woods," you snipped with your nose in the air.

Dalton turned, his lengthy Dragonglass colored hair falling over his slim shoulders as he laughed, his canines glistening in the yellow torchlight. His teeth were so white, so sharp. It looked as if they could pierce flesh with a single bite.

The exhaustion, combined with the half a dozen glasses of wine you had drunk, lowered your inhibitions and made your lips loose. "I had half a mind to gouge out your eyes and feed them to my dragon," you joked.

Dalton stopped his long strides at this, causing you to jerk and do the same, stumbling around to face him. Suddenly, your world was a blur of colors, your head struggling to keep up with the fast movements of the Red Kraken as he led you to an untraveled hallway.

"Lord Greyjoy!" you shouted in protest, groaning as the abruptness made you sick.

"You speak lots of threats for a lady of your stature," he taunted, his toned arms caging you in.

It took you a moment longer than expected to process what was happening, but you were in no state of alarm despite the nonconsensual circumstances. You didn't feel the same rush of fear you had with Aegon, only raising one unamused brow as you gave Ser Dalton a lofty stare, almost daring him to try something as you released a huff.

"And what, prey tell, are you implying, Lord Reaper?" you questioned with a lazy tilt of your head.

Dalton laughed lightly, raising his arm to toy with a strand of your hair as he leaned closer. "Only, my Bastard Princess, that you have the fire of a true dragon born of pure Valryian blood, not something muddled with common folk."

"You think our people are beneath us?" you asked pointedly, arching your back to reach his slumped form. "What would happen if your armies raised their swords against you, hmm? Our people let us rule."

Lord Dalton dropped the hair he was toying with, running his digits through the rest until he reached your waist, pulling you flush with his. Your eyes widened in surprise as you felt his manhood press against your stomach, freezing for a moment as your mind went blank.

"With a dragon, no one could stand in my way. We could burn all who dare test the power of House Greyjoy and Targaryen. We do not sow. We will reap through fire and blood." Dalton leaned closer to you, his spine hunched like a startled cat from the height difference. "There was no mistake in my intention yesterday. You will become my wife."

Your head finally started working again; instincts pounded in from years of training controlling your movements. Wrapping your leg around Dalton's hips, you brought him closer, angling your body so that your skirt rose above your ankle. You snaked your fingers down his back, nails scraping his maroon woolen tunic, unsheathing the hidden dagger your father gifted and pointing at his chest.

The Lord Reaper of Pyke's brown eyes briefly flashed with terror but swiftly smoothed into their dark expression, a taunting grin on his lips.

"Ser Dalton of House Greyjoy," you chortled. "I have heard many rumors about you." You pushed the blade tip further into his chest, where his heart would be. "Of you emerging from battle, drenched in blood from a thousands cuts on your body. Claiming a Valyrian Steel sword in victory. Of your countless salt wives who would rather throw themselves into the sea than bed you?" Dalton's pupils dilated as he watched your mouth move, nails digging into the plush skin of your waist. "You get bored of women too easily, and I do not intend to move from one forgotten position to another."

You clenched your leg, cinching him to you in a vice-like grip.

"Tell me, Red Kraken, will you bleed the same as I when you tear my maidenhead?" You slid the dagger tip dangerously up his chest, resting just below the notch in his throat and causing it to bob uncomfortably.

You observed Dalton licking his lips, hands sliding to the plump flesh of your arse as he ground his manhood into your heat. Both stared, willing the other to break it and lose the unspoken challenge. The many ways you could quickly kill him popped into your head with a sly smile, continuing to size him up as you saw the faint trickle of blood down his neck.

A chorus of giggles caused you both to default, the contest ending in a draw as you saw the two desert flowers from earlier walk in your direction. They draped over Aegon's sides; all smiles as he led them to what you could only assume were his bed chambers. You felt sick at the sight, unraveling your limbs from Lord Greyjoy and placing your dagger back in its holder. His hands moved to a more appropriate place on your body as you both turned to acknowledge the Prince's presence.

The searing emotion of betrayal coursed through your veins as bile burned your throat. How could Aegon whisper such intoxicating and mind-numbing things about your time together but, in a fell swoop, go whoring with two women he did not know? Anger tugged on your heart, inhaling a raging breath as you both bowed to the eldest Prince, his purple eyes bypassing you and Dalton.

A part of you wished for him to notice the Lord's improper hold on you, for Aegon to become filled with the same scornful rage he created within you, but you swallowed the thought down, turning to your escort to continue the journey to your rooms.

It was silent from then on, your wrath simmering just below the edge. You were certain Ser Dalton could sense it.

Once you arrived at the Guest Wing, you turned to him, swiftly ordering the guard at the door to walk to the other end of the hall so he could not overhear your words.

"If you wish so ardently to marry, Lord Dalton, I suggest you do it correctly," you commanded sternly. "You will court me properly as any other man would, then when the time is right, you will contact my father, informing him of your intentions. Just because I was born of sin and impropriety does not mean I want to live it myself." You raised your black eyebrows at him, waiting for a response.

"I understand, my Lady," he confirmed solemnly. "You will be given the respect you deserve and I hope you can accept my sincerest regrets for my actions prior."

You rolled your eyes, slightly probing your hip out as you stared at him, unbelieving. "Do not apologize," you said bluntly, "I know you do not regret it. Had you did then, that would have never happened."

You saw a slight smile grow on his thin pink lips.

"I expect a letter from you upon your return to Castle Pyke. We will converse and learn about one another until the time is right." You moved away from him, pulling the handle to your chamber door, and bid him goodnight. "Sleep well, Ser Dalton. I await your letter should you decide to write me."

As you enter your chambers, you couldn't deny your hope that you were just another one of his female conquest he would tire of, calling for your maids with a bell. You wanted to stick to your plan, and Dalton would be another obstacle in securing Rhaenyra's throne.

The same exhaustion from before crept through your bones as you slumped over your vanity, your servants arriving a few moments later to undress you.

Today had been fruitful, and you prayed to the Seven that everything would fall into place as time passed. You knew this would be difficult and had prepared yourself accordingly, though you sensed that something would happen to topple that self-perseverance as things tended to do, but shoved it away with the rest of your many doubts and worries.

As you drifted into a peaceful slumber, you dreamed of a time filled with less duty and more freedom, a distant memory of long ago filled with laughs and love that had now been forgotten.

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I hope this chapter was worth the wait. Aegon really needs to work on his drinking habits because he literally walked right past his girl with another man! He becomes a different person when he's under the influence of alcohol. If Aegon was only a bit tipsy, you know that man would've beat the fuck out of Dalton even though he is severely outmatched. I also want to mention that I purposefully don't have Aegon speak in High Valyrian when calling the reader "little dragon" because I remember Tom Glenn Carney saying something along the lines of Aegon hating the traditionalism of the Targaryen and being that rebel child, but at the same time he uses that God complex whenever he sees it as an advantage. Idk. Just a little peek behind the curtain of my writing lol. Thank you for reading!

Tagged Peeps: @zeennnnnnn , @malfoytargaryen , @targaryencore , @justasmallbean , @alexandra-001 , @omgsuperstarg , @sommornyte , @silverslive , @unclecrunkle , @prettykinkysoul , @duesobabe , @djlexi , @ynbutbetter , @honestlykat , @graykageyama , @legolas017 , @iiamthehybrid , @brezzybfan , @dd122004dd , @ladybug0095 , @millies0bsimp , @kalfild , @sheislonelyalways , @tempt-ress , @bellameshipper , @minttea07 , @trikigirl271 , @esposadomd , @buckylahey , @justarandomflowerchildofthenight , @partypoison00 , @please-buckme , @pastelorangeskies , @joliettes , @existential-echo , @priyajoyy , @valaenatargaryensdragon , @merovingianprincess , @rachelnicolee , @candy12110 , @w3ird11 , @ruhjkie , @somemydayy , @ariana-dumbledore8 , @marikkjj , @zillahvathek , @sunfyresrider , @sunny-boy-06 , @heavenly1927 , @prettylittlelady

[esoteric-chaos]

Autumn Equinox Masterpost - Spoonie witch friendly

The Autumn Equinox. This holiday typically falls around September 21st. This welcomes the transition from summer to fall by celebrating the season and honoring crops.

The Autumn Equinox marks the end of the summer harvest season, the second harvest. 

People gather and celebrate the harvest with feasts and gatherings of the folk.

Autumn Equinox Correspondences 

Colours

Dark brown

Burnt orange

Deep green

Dark red

Golden yellow

Earth tones

Herbal

Bay Laurel

Sage

Yarrow

Cinnamon

Rose Hips

Sunflowers

Ash

Oak

Maple

Edibles

Pumpkin

Wheat / Bread

Apples

Corn

Zucchini

Squash

Acorns / Nuts

Root veggies

Stew or chili

Wassail (Credit to Salem from The Cobalt Athenaeum Discord server)

Animals

Stag

Owl

Blackbird

Squirrels

Salmon

Crystals

Citrine

Amber

Quartz

Aventurine

Gold

Ruby

Tiger’s Eye

Symbols

Cornucopia

Hay

Scarecrows

Leaves

Pinecones

Spiritual meanings

Shadow Work

Gratitude

Home protection

Balance

The folk

Accomplishments

Goal setting

Abundance

Harvesting and agriculture

Transition

Scents

Apple

Clove

Cinnamon

Pumpkin

Gods / Goddesses / Spirits

Persepone – (Greek)

Demeter – (Greek)

Morrígan – (Irish)

Epona – (Gallo-Roman)

Pomona – (Roman)

Modron – (Welsh)

Bona Dea – (Roman)

Ceres – (Roman)

Mabon – (“The Great Son”) - (Welsh)

Thoth – (Ancient Egyptian)

Hermes – (Greek)

Thor – (Norse)

Dionysis – (Greek)

Need some suggestions to celebrate? I got you covered.

High energy celebrations

Baking

Hearth magic

Protection rituals

Spend time with the folk

Prosperity ritual

Crafting a money bowl (Add rice, trust me)

Make apple based products (apple cider, apple pie, etc)

Make Wassail (Credit to Salem from The Cobalt Athenaeum Discord server)

Low energy celebrations

Healing bath ritual

Light a candle in honor

Prayer to Gods/Goddesses

Journal

Eat some fresh produce

No spoon celebrations

Chat with friends or family online

Drink apple juice, cider, spiced cider

Tell yourself kind words

Thank the harvest when you are able to fuel your body for taking care of you

Remember that it’s okay if you cant do much while you are unwell. That you come first and you simply existing is a blessing.

How you celebrate the holiday does not matter. You can choose to do any activity that feels right. These are only suggestions and remember that you're enough no matter what.

Edited on 9/21/24

[edgessunflower]

Candles

Pairing: Bianca Belair x Fem reader x Bayley

Description: You and the girls find and get new fall scented candles

When Sasha told you that there were new candles for fall at Bath and body works in the mall you knew that you and the girls had to go and see just what these scents were on your shared day off together for the first time in a long while. The three of you decided to make a day out of the trip to the mall going to Spencer's and Hot Topic before hitting the Box Lunch where you got quite a few different shirts and beanies before the three of you found your main destination and that was the bath and body works, the first candle Bayley found was the traditional apple cider which she liked to have before Bianca found the first of many new scents starting with pumpkin pecan waffles and you found warm apple pie which you immediately fell in love with and so did the girls as you all found more new scents from autumn rain and spiced apple harvest to falling leaves, blankets under the stars, and sweet vanilla horchata each smell had the three of you even more relaxed and breathing deeper to keep the smell of each scent leading to the three of you leaving bath and body works with bags on each arm. Lunch between the three of you was shared in the food court with pizza and soda before leaving the mall and heading home immediately lighting blankets under the stars in the living room while watching tv for an hour before letting the scent linger then lighting autumn rain which had you melting on the couch between the girls as you all watched Nightmare before Christmas, after the movie dinner was shared while the scent of autumn rain lingered in the living room even after blowing the candle out and twenty minutes later all of you were doing your nightly routines before lighting sweet vanilla horchata that was a soothing non musical luallby for the three of you snuggled and molded together under the covers as Native american music ambience played on low volume that had the three of you asleep to the echoed flute music and the calm scent of vanilla flowing throughout the bedroom as you all slept soundly.

[urfavnegronerd]

all right u obscene fucks some of you don't have a skincare-obsessed sister and it shows

alright so anyone who shaves their no no square is going to know what im talking about so just bare with me. some of us are too broke to afford a wax (i have eight dollars in my spending account rn), so here's what ur gonna do. everyone whos shaved that area has most definitely experienced irritation, ingrowns, bumps, and itchiness. this is not good, especially for those of us with a history of sh. that alone has triggered multiple relapses for me, cus why does my body itch? and then my brain spirals from there

if its been a while since u've shaved? no worries stink i didn't use to be regular either. if its been a while and you have a bit more hair, make sure to trim the area carefully, with a sanitized pair of scissors.

dry brush the area, you can get a dry brush at target, i got mine for five dollars

gently exfoliate the area, i use a home made one w sugar, oil, and dr bronners unscented soap. i use unscented because i have keratosis pilaris, eczema, and sensitive skin. use unscented soap, not no Japanese cherry blossom ass shit from bath and body works. do you want a yeast infection? unscented is the way to go.

get clean razor, i switch mine out every month or so. i use harrys because they're marketed towards men so a closer shave w more blades. before u do anything w the razor, run it under warm water, if the pressure in your showerhead changes switch it to the highest pressure and rinse the blade to get any gunk out of there

drop the shaving cream, the conditioner, whatever u use. drop it. switch for coconut oil instead, unscented as to not irritate the area.

at first go with the direction of hair growth, stopping to rinse the razor and the area every few strokes. then go side to side, and up and down.

as soon as ur finished rinse the area with freezing water as to close/tighten the pores!!

when ur out of the shower use either after shave, or witch hazel. i like to use aqua velva after shave, it smells nice, and also marketed towards a male audience so it actually fucking works. pour a little bit on a cotton round, wash rag, or toilet paper and apply it to the area. it'll sting a little bit, but that's the tightening and toning of the area, don't worry. for those of my afab friends do not put it in there. only on the skin outside of it!! no one wants a yeast infection, or a uti, we don't do that here. (however if you do get a uti or yeast infection, boric acid suppositories at target, azo cranberry tablets and apple cider vinegar tablets. do what you will with that. miasaurus on youtube has great videos on these topics, an ex-stripper and also incredibly funny) tend skin is also a great option but really expensive, when my parents were together my mom got my bald-headed ass daddy a big thing of tend skin for his birthday.

moisturize with unscented lotion, i use cetaphil on that area and coco butter everywhere else

in the showers following ur shave down there, use a salicylic acid face wash on that area. i use cerave because i got it cheap with ulta points, i would recommend cerave because it's formulated with ceramides to keep your skin barrier healthy as well as being unscented. salicylic acid is an acne medication that also helps prevent ingrown hair and itchiness.

moisturize moisturize moisturize!

repeat as necessary friends! go fuck that person bald down there. or don't, whatever floats ur boat. if you wanna be smooth down there (cus its fucking comforting), go be smooth if you wanna!

my mom or my older sister did not teach me this, so i had to figure out what works too embarrassed to ask for help.

[paintedscales]

WoLstinien Week 2024 :: Day 4 :: Nameday

With Alberic's help, Nomin prepared a gift for Estinien that she desperately wanted to finish. Thankfully, the gift is prepared just in time for her to deliver it in person. Knowing that there was likely no chance that Estinien would have returned home, Nomin sets off to Radz-at-Han in order to pay him a visit for a very special occasion.

Word Count: 1,800

Paint supplies littered the floor and table surfaces in the den where Nomin worked on her canvases. Her brow was knit into a tight furrow as she looked over what she had on the canvas at this point in time. Since Estinien had been away in Radz-at-Han, she took the time to see if she could manage to focus her Echo while with Alberic to see Ferndale as it once was before the Calamity; before Nidhogg razed it to the ground.

The process had been harsh, but Nomin endured, even past the headaches and nosebleeds. With Alberic’s patience and assistance, however, it was easier for Nomin to have held onto Venat’s guidance to direct her Echo. Now, Nomin stood at her easel, the product nearly finished.

Painted upon the canvas was a village surrounded by verdant trees, sheep grazing in the grass. Mountains towered in the back -- the only things that had snow upon them before the Calamity struck. It was a picture of serenity. With what she experienced in those visions, Nomin walked the pathways of that village like it still existed. She got to experience the village as a ghost from the future. Now she was glad she captured how it felt as a painting.

What was left was getting another’s opinion on it.

“Alberic!” Nomin chirped when she found him. She had the dried painting tucked under her arm for the time being.

Alberic had been in the kitchen, sipping some homemade cider when Nomin approached. He had been staying at the island sanctuary as a guest for some time. Offering Nomin a small wave, he set down his mug.

“What can I do for you, Nomin?” Alberic asked, sitting up a little straighter.

Pausing, Nomin turned the canvas around to show him.

“Since you know of Ferndale, I need you to tell me how this came out.”

“Oh, that’s…” The corners of Alberic’s eyes crinkled with delight as he lips spread into a warm, fond smile. He turned his attention up toward Nomin. “He’ll love it.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nomin saw Alberic off later in the evening, ensuring he had a safe trip back to Moraby with Baldin at the helm. Once the boat was far enough away, Nomin got her travel supplies ready. The canvas was pulled from its wooden frame and delicately rolled into a tube for safe keeping, and she dressed appropriately for the hot weather of Thavnair.

Stepping outside of the cabin and closing the door behind her, Nomin adjusted her bag and descended the stairs. While in the process, she kept how the Radz-at-Han aetheryte felt firm in mind. She remembered how it felt when she attuned to it and closed her eyes. The warmth spread through her, and she felt herself as if she were bathed in this warm embrace before she heard the bustle of the city before she felt the hard tiles underneath her feet.

Slowly, Nomin opened her eyes. It was late morning compared to the evening she left the island sanctuary in. Her body was fatigued, and this was something she would have to combat at a later time. For now, however, Nomin held her hand out to the large aetheryte, the Meghaduta’s visage and aethershard her focus as she traveled once more. This time, she was whisked through the more contained aethernet.

At the foot of the stairs that led up to the Meghaduta, Nomin paused and looked in her bag. Map container, three small boxes, and one sack. Yes, it seemed like everything she had prepared was there, and so she proceeded.

Greeting the guards, Nomin was permitted entry, and she proceeded to walk the opulent halls of the Meghaduta until she reached the room that was designated as Estinien’s chambers. Her Echo had reacted already to the different emotions and feelings from other people, alerting her to their presence. When she stood at Estinien’s door, she felt his familiar tug on her Echo, and a smile spread upon her lips.

Rapping her knuckles across the door, Nomin waited.

“Enter,” was the response.

Nomin’s tail flicked, and she pushed the door open.

As expected, Estinien was getting his morning routine out of the way. He was doing situps, and when Nomin entered, he paused, looking at her with some level of surprise.

“Nomin…” Estinien greeted, getting himself stood up and off the floor. He went to retrieve a towel, getting the sweat dried off of himself.

“I wasn’t sure if you were going to be home tonight, so I decided to make the venture here myself,” Nomin explained with a smile.

“... I am not due to return to the island for another moon or so,” Estinien replied, seemingly oblivious to the reason Nomin may have even been there at all. He quickly gathered himself, however, and approached her. He leaned down, planting a small kiss on her head while avoiding giving her an embrace without washing up first. “Still, it gladdens me to see you here. A pleasant surprise indeed.”

Chuckling softly, Nomin’s tail curled slowly and affectionately. “I’m happy to hear that, because I have some stuff for you to sweeten my arrival!”

Estinien quirked a brow in interest, and he simply waited for her to elaborate. In response, Nomin walked to the table in the room and placed her bag on it. Grinning over at Estinien, she rummaged around and brought out the sack first.

“I put this together with some of the fruit I dried from the island, nuts I roasted and salted, and there are also some chocolate bits in there!” Nomin happily explained as she placed it on the table. “I actually got some cocoa tree saplings transplanted further onto the island, and they've been doing well! But I started making chocolate from the cocoa pods that I received from the person I got the saplings from.”

“The Admiral is fine with this?” Estinien asked, not forgetting the stipulations of owning the island.

“I didn’t ask,” Nomin admitted, pausing briefly. “But I’m not exporting any goods with it. The trees are for personal use and tending.”

Nomin resumed rummaging through her bag. The next thing she pulled out were the three boxes. They all had the same design on them of a Hingan shop insignia burned into the wood. Each of the boxes were ones that Estinien immediately recognized, and though it may not have been too obvious, Nomin felt the elation that tugged at her Echo. This caused Nomin to smile, her tail curling upward slightly knowing that this pleased Estinien.

“These need no introduction I trust?” Nomin asked.

“Nay. I know them well enough. I thank you for bringing these.” Estinien approached, glancing over the boxes and offering a small, warm smile in Nomin’s direction. “What prompted this sudden round of gifts?”

“You really don’t know?” Nomin asked, smirking and giving Estinien a slightly incredulous look.

Estinien folded his arms over his chest, appearing thoughtful. “I assume these are simply items that needed to be delivered lest they spoil in some way.”

“... You really don’t know, huh…” Nomin scoffed. She then faced him and poked his chest with each next word: “It’s your nameday!”

Surprised etched its way onto Estinien’s face. “When did you learn it?”

“Alberic told me!” Nomin chirped.

Lifting a hand, Estinien pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head slightly. His nameday was not often something he celebrated, though he bit his tongue. He already knew that Nomin would challenge him if he made any comment that inferred as such. Especially since he had gone out of his way to celebrate her nameday back in the First Umbral Moon of the year.

Dropping his hand to his side, Estinien’s expression became somewhat sheepish. He did appreciate the gifts that were brought in for him.

“I…thank you, Nomin. I do appreciate you going out of your way to bring me these,” Estinien finally said. “I’ll make good use of them and shall enjoy them greatly.”

Nomin’s smile grew, and she reached into her bag for the last thing.

“I am glad to hear that, but…this is the real gift I wanted to give you for your nameday.” Nomin stepped forward, getting a little closer to Estinien so that they were just a fulm apart. She then took the map container and handed it off to Estinien.

“A map?” Estinien looked at the container, bemused.

“Sure,” Nomin replied with a giggle. “Just open it!”

Turning over the cylindrical container in his hands, Estinien eventually did as he was told and dumped the canvas out into his opposite hand. When he noted the different texture of material, he furrowed his brow. This was not a traditional map.

Unfolding the canvas, Estinien glanced at Nomin momentarily before unfurling the rest of it.

There was a visible pause in his movements as he looked down upon the painting. Slowly, he took it to the table, clearing an area before spreading it out. Once it was flat on the table, he brought a hand to his chin, curling his fingers around his mouth and jawline in quiet contemplation.

A mix of emotions confused Nomin as her Echo tried to keep track of the fluctuations. The main emotion felt was uncertainty, and so Nomin’s tail twitched in shallow little movements as she tilted her head. After a moment, her expression fell into worry.

“... Do…you not like it…?” Nomin finally asked, breaking the silence that thickened the air.

“‘Tis not that at all,” Estinien quietly replied. He brought his hand down, tracing the canvas carefully with the very tips of his fingers. “...Simply…I never thought I would see Ferndale again. ‘Tis preserved the way I remember it…”

Estinien turned toward Nomin.

“How did you manage it?”

Nomin drew her hands together and she looked down. “Well…Alberic helped me. I’d learned a little bit how to control my Echo during our time preparing to ward off the Final Days, and…I asked if he could help bring me to Ferndale through his memories.”

Nomin returned her gaze to Estinien, and she smiled with some level of uncertainty up at him. “I’d actually wanted to do this for a while for you. I thought…you’d like something nice to remember your home by.”

In a moment, Estinien turned toward Nomin and brought her into an embrace. He held her close, leaning his head against her neck and shoulder. What she had done for him was one of the most thoughtful things he could have imagined ever being granted to him.

“... You have my thanks for this thoughtful gift, Nomin.”

It was Nomin’s turn to have a sheepish expression befall her face as she wrapped her arms around Estinien. Closing her eyes, she allowed her expression to turn warm as they shared in their closeness.

“Happy nameday, Estinien.”

[sardoniqueen101]

Get to Know My Tav!

I was not tagged, but I just wanted to join the trend. I shared Saran's backstory, but there's more to be known! I think the questions originated from @sporeservant so thank you!

Saran Orquina | Tiefling | Draconic Sorceress | She/Her | 26

What's your Tav's...

Favorite Weapon: Her hands. As a sorcerer, Saran doesn't necessarily need a staff to cast spells, although she appreciates the benefits that a staff can grant. Otherwise, she prefers to feel the magic flow through her veins, and considers herself to be her most efficient weapon.

Style of Combat: Most of the spells that Saran casts require some distance to maximize their effects, and to not impact her allies. So she prefers a high place to cast and do the most damage possible. When the advantage doesn't present itself, she doesn't mind being in the middle of action.

Most Prized Possession: Her mother's books. When she journeyed back to her childhood home, she hid the books with extra care and prays they are safe. Some contain ancient spells and cantrips and others contain the stories of her mother's people. She also earns a pair of earrings that her father forged for her mother, she wears them all the time to keep them close.

Deepest Desire: At the moment it is to ensure freedom for her companions, all of whom she has grown fond of. However, she wants to know what happened to her mother, and confirm if she has any family left.

Guilty Pleasure: She has a weakness for sweets. Her sweet tooth is quite unmatched and she'll jump at the chance to indulge should the opportunity arise.

Best-Kept Secret: Saran has wings, and she can fly. Her mother taught her a spell to hide them as soon as she could talk, especially once they were big enough to notice. It is her most well-kept illusion, and none of the companions know about it. Despite her trust in them, she intends to keep her wings a secret.

Greatest Strength: Saran's greatest strength is her capacity to do the right thing. She helps people indiscriminately and sees the good in everyone.

Fatal Flaw: That same capacity for good is her fatal flaw. Although she is cautious of trusting people, she can be a bit naive. Saran also has a tendency to help people at the detriment of her own wellbeing, much like her father.

Favorite Smell: Combination of sweet black cherries, cane sugar, and fizzy seltzer water (AN: It's a bath and body works candle, and I think she would love this scent)

Favorite Spell or Cantrip: Hard to choose, but she loves any spell/cantrip that involves ice magic. It is directly connected to her heritage, and it is the magic she is most proficient at. (Ice Knife, Ray of Frost, Sleet Storm, etc.)

Pet Peeve: Being called a hellspawn, devil, or any other derogatory name referring to her Infernal heritage, that will earn you a punch in the face if you catch her on a bad day.

Bad Habit: When she is scared of frightened, her tail coils around her legs. Depending on severity, it can coil tightly enough to leave a mark. It's an involuntary response and she despises it.

Hidden Talent: Saran is a lovely singer. She would never perform in public, but she sings to herself. Old lullabies in Draconic or Infernal are her favorite, they make her feel close to her parents.

Leisure Activity: Reading. Her parents instilled a love of books in her and reading is relaxing when she finds time. She likes to share books with Astarion and Gale.

Favorite Drink: Apple cider, refreshingly sweet.

Comfort Food: Sweetfire Ice! A perfect combination of cold and spice. It's her favorite sweet, and she knows how to make it too.

Favorite Person: She wouldn't be able to pick between Karlach and Gale. Karlach is everything Saran wants in a best friend, they both love helping people and Saran adores Karlach's spirit. The first time hugging her is one of her fondest memories on their adventure. Gale is her better half, the calm to her storm. Despite a slightly rocky start, to say she is in love with him would be an understatement.

Favorite Display of Affection (Platonic and/or Romantic): Quality time and physical touch. Saran doesn't grow close to people easily, but when she does she shows them how much they mean to her. When Karlach was desperate for a hug, Saran made it her mission to give that to her. Romantically this is a bit different. Gale is her first serious relationship, so being close to him is different for her, good different.

Fondest Childhood Memory: After she and her parents started traveling, her mom began teaching her to fly. She was allowed to use her wings and feel them carry her. Her mom cast a spell that allowed her father to fly to, and her first flying lesson was the three of them flying together. She'll never forget the weightless feeling.

[cherryblossomsmist]

Tony has been forced into public events and appearances all day, the perils of keeping busy in the holiday season, but due to some scheduling oversight he has an entire day of outdoor events one after another. And the multiple events for different organizations and businesses and charities isn’t odd but yeah somehow his newest PA hadn’t realized he was going to be outside for various things like tree cutting, ice skating, sleigh riding, tree lighting, Christmas Market grand opening, and finally winter fire works.

And either it’s been a freezing cold snowy day or maybe it’s been a wet and rainy (but still cold) day and he powered thru it like a champ (or a man that knew if he canceled on even one of these events he was going to be labeled a Scrooge by the media). In anycase he’s chilled to the bone and Steve takes care of him that night

Maybe he and Steve had plans they cancel to get Tony warm, maybe Steve runs into him coming home and sees he needs help, maybe they are together or maybe this is the first time they snuggle up by the fire as friends and leave as something more. Maybe Steve leaps into action, eager to help, or maybe Tony’s chilled skin and pallor makes him think of the ice and he muscles thru that discomfort to help Tony.

I assume hot coco or warm cider is enjoyed, a wood fire it lit, and maybe a bath is drawn, there’s definitely soft warm sheets slid into at the end

Oh, my God, I LOVE this. Like the hurt/comfort potential is so good, and it's so Tony to like, push himself like that, even if he's miserable. And extra if you know, he really hates the cold and really feels it, partly because of his bad circulation, partly because of how when he was on the streets, the cold really got to him, and he almost died in that blizzard that lead to his getting sober, and every winter he goes back to that, wakes up with nightmares about being back there--so he's already exhausted before the whole marathon of Christmas outdoor experiences. And of course he's never actually talked about that with anyone, so no one actually knows how bad it is to him, and how it gets to him. His hands are aching and freezing through his gloves and he keeps feeling like he's freezing to death again despite the warm cashmere coat he's wearing, but he's not gonna complain, he's just not.

And Steve, who used to suffer through his own miserable winters as a boy, who for a while there was afraid he might freeze to death some winters in a tenement without heat, takes one look at him when he gets back to the mansion, tower, whatever it is, and he just knows he's miserable. Tony's so cold, he's so pale, he feels like he's half frozen, and maybe it does make him a little uncomfortable, but he still leaps into action, eager to help. Tony's ... dazed, he's a little slow from the cold, and he's clearly miserable. He responds with vague words to his worried questions, and isn't even able to effectively pretend he's okay. His hair is wet under his hat from the snow. When Steve touches his cheek, Tony can barely feel it, he can tell. Steve is Fixing This.

He makes Tony some hot cocoa (because I keep imagining Tony as a closet lover of chocolate, and Steve knows it), and he rubs on his cold hands and blows on them--if they're together, he kisses at each cold knuckle and the tips of his fingers--and rubs his hands up under his shirt, up and down his back, exclaiming over how cold Tony feels with soft concern, before he draws him a bath and gently bullies him into it, while he asks Jarvis for a heating pad for the bed like he often uses himself when he gets a little too close to the ice in his head. He massages him after, either just his shoulders and arms and hands and feet if they're not together, his whole body if they are together, and makes sure he puts on warm pajamas and a warm robe. He puts his arms around him and Tony just--leans into him, because he never expected all of this. Any of this. Tony's kind of horrified when he realizes he's nuzzling into Steve's chest, but he's so, so warm and comforting and steadying, and his warm hands are stroking Tony's shoulders, up into his hair, kneading at his muscles.

And maybe that progresses to sex, if they're together, or even if it's their first time--what better way to warm Tony up, after all, right? But Steve insists he stays bundled up while they're doing it, until Tony is actively flushed in the face, and he drinks a lot of cold water after they're done, as Steve laughs at how overheated he's gotten Tony and kisses all over his face, pressing his big warm body up against Tony, and Tony rubbing his hands up and down Steve's bare chest in between drags of ice water, while Steve rubs at the back of his neck with one hand.

[hesperusblogging]

Assigning you a bedroom based on your favourite Yuli PC (1/2)

Marzu

Your emo, criminally so but you are also cringe and you should be proud of this.

He's literally 14 no he would not have a sick ass room he'd still have the remnants of childhood scattered around before he made that transition into adulthood.

Maybe you need to stop running from yourself and just lie down under that purple tent and and scream into a pillow. No one will make fun of you I promise.

This room smells like bath and body works candles and apple cider.

Panths

Panths is a middle aged man who lost his wife, cut his hair, and got fired from his job if your kinning him that is on you I fear. He is clearly in the middle of a midlife crisis and if that speaks to you then here is the perfect place to contemplate your life.

At least the view is nice! The only downside is you can feel the weight of your guilt as the ocean calls for you to walk into it.

You know old doctors used to prescribe a summer at the seaside for women experiencing hysteria and well lets just say you definitely would enjoy the sea breeze from time to time.

This room smells like fresh rain and hints of a bonfire burning.

Ucluelet

You deserve the best most beautiful bedroom as there is still the hints of joy in your heart that makes you shine like the radiant sun.

Even if the world outside is ugly at least your room is pretty! Your mom is downstairs cooking and your counting the seashells you've collected with your siblings. Everything is going to be okay.

Comes with one of those 2000's plastic fish tanks that's just a rotating artwork

This room smells like the ocean breeze and fruits ripening in the field.

Seven

Largest of all the rooms because you've got the most friends and family waiting for you at home. You'll have to host them somewhere right?

Need a cozy room to hide in because you didn't want any of this to happen, it wasn't fair that it did, it wasn't your fault, you just want to go home.

Windows that let you sneak out at will!

This room smells like balsam and tea.

Asmund

Most average male living space

You sleep on the couch because you don't know the comforts of a bed anymore. This place never mattered, soon you'll be off again fighting, fighting,fighting and then you'll rest your head somewhere hard and uncomfortable which you will deserve.

A shelf dedicated to the only thing you cherish, videos and photos of those you love.

Cat comes with the room for free your ass needs the companionship.

This room smells like dust and vacuumed carpet

[nancypullen]

Geez

It's the 19th of May and I haven't posted since late April. That's a sad state of affairs on this ol' blog. Since my last post we have celebrated Jamie's birthday and Mother's Day, two noteworthy occasions. In the near future we have Tyler's birthday, Father's Day, and Matt's upcoming trip to Ireland. Plenty to look forward to and celebrate, June should be a delight. On Saturday the library hosted a celebration of our renovations and re-opening (even though they been open since January). There was a ribbon cutting, food and drink, and a good crowd. I spent five hours in the children's area applying glitter tattoos to lots of small hands and arms.

This little guy was thrilled with his glittery blue Batman emblem. He stole my heart.

I actually put lots of books into those little hands as well, so mission accomplished. After working all week and then surviving enjoying a busy Saturday I didn't do much of anything on Sunday. We browsed the auction house. Do I need this globe?

Probably not. I'll bet the countries are outdated and if it doesn't open up and become a James Bond style liquor cabinet, what good is it? I'm 100% sure that I don't need this gal around giving me body issues.

Is it just me, or does she kind of look like Caitlin Jenner? I talked the mister into cruising into the Starbucks drive-thru while we were out. I'd had a headache for two days, and darned if an iced caramel macchiato didn't cure it. I guess there's something to be said for caffeine and sugar. I enjoyed every drop. Once home, Mickey went to his office to work on photos and I puttered. I checked out the gardens and gave everything a pep talk. The mister has been murdering moles so I have high hopes that the grass will fill in and flourish. At this point I'm willing to spray paint the dirt green. I ended up on the porch, which is looking so pretty. I'll have to snap some pics and share them. I don't know why a pretty porch makes me so happy, but it does. For dinner I cut up some chicken thighs and made bourbon chicken in a skillet - no actual bourbon involved. It's basically that yummy food court chicken. The recipe is apple juice, apple cider vinegar, low sodium soy sauce, ginger, garlic, pepper, and brown sugar. After the chicken cooked I thickened the sauce with a little cornstarch slurry and served it over rice. I topped it with a little diced green onion and sesame seeds to make it pretty. Normally I'd have tossed in some broccoli florets but I didn't have any. There was a crunchy cucumber in the frig so I sliced that up for our veggie. I probably should have made a salad, but I'm just so dang tired. I've started questioning my Oregon Trail viability. That was always how I judged my health/fitness - whether or not I'd survive walking beside a wagon for four or five months. I knew I could do it, even enjoy some of it. Now I know I'd be jumping off at the first trading post. I'd be selling maps in Missouri at the jumping off point. I don't feel good, I don't look good, and I'd just be dead weight in the wagon. Leave me, save yourselves. All of that to say that I've become a bit of a bore. I work most days and get home after six (sometimes eight) and my routine is the same - eat dinner, watch Jeopardy, take a hot bath, read in bed. Ho hum. Where's the fun? I've lost my magic. I really need to find my way back to playing with words and paint and paper. I miss it. I feel like a hypocrite saying that. Before taking the position at the library, I was lonely, isolated, longing for friends, and looking for a purpose in this dull town. Now I get to talk and laugh with nice people at work, I certainly have a lot to do, there aren't enough hours in the work day to finish everything (I have a deadline hanging over my head right now that is stressing me out!), and I actually do feel a little appreciated. The paycheck is a nice bonus. So I suppose I got what I wished for, I just didn't want it nine hours a day. I don't have a life. Right now the library is very short staffed, and I think everyone is stretched thin. Most people have no idea of how much work is involved in keeping a public library not just open, but relevant. The programs that we offer, the community outreach, the technology that we have to stay on top of, the daily tasks of keeping track of a large inventory, fielding reference questions from patrons and finding the resources and answers they need, processing materials that come and go in large tubs, the list goes on and on and that doesn't even include just the regular check-ins and outs. My calendar also includes a lot of children's programs - tomorrow I'm working with Petite Picassos, another day I'll be making bee hotels with a group of twenty, don't even ask about Bubblepalooza (guaranteed bad hair day). I've actually managed to get a month ahead in gathering materials and planning for displays. I have some birds to paint, but otherwise I'm ready. Getting ahead on some things means putting others at a lower priority - which is why I have an online training class for Beanstack, the software we'll use for all of our summer reading programs, still on my to-do list. I'm supposed to have it completed by the 22nd. Maybe if I don't get it done they'll fire me.

I just want my life back. Not even all of it, maybe just half. I wanted to be a volunteer. Help.

Okay, I've whined enough. It's past time to get my clothes ready for the morning, pack a little lunch, and pray that the building burns down overnight. Just kidding. Kind of. Sorry for this mess of a post, I just wanted to keep this blog alive. It tells the story of my life since 2007 and I'd hate to let it fade away now. I suppose everything runs its course, but I'm not ready yet. Thanks for staying this long and reading this far. Sending out lots of love tonight. I hope it finds you. I also hope that joy finds you - we can all use a healthy dose of that. It's most often homemade. I'll be back during the weekend. Until then, stay safe, stay well, stay hopeful. XOXO, Nancy