#necklace tunnel vision

[zhansww]

this one frame, tho. it's too much for my heart 😭😭😭

[ranfused4ever]

[slipknnotsstuff]

run don’t walk

[cigsnvalentines]

Outfit details:

shirt: Newbreed Girl

pants: Tripp NYC

shoes: 2012 Converse x Green Day

Accessories: backpack and belt from Hot Topic, necklaces from Tunnel Vision and eBay, keychain from Tokidoki, and bracelets are thrifted :3

[vicsy]

charlos + wine

"I know your father is planning my murder right now," Charles says under his breath, then breaks into a fit of bumpy giggles.

It's like sandpaper to Carlos' ears.

He maneuvers Charles past the master bathroom door, then shuts it hard as if they're being chased by wolves. Carlos turns around to the sight of Charles leaning back on the designer bathroom counter next to the marble sink, warm and languid, his smile digging into the dimples on his cheeks, almost the same as when he hurriedly pressed a pristine, white cloth napkin to Carlos' ruined dress shirt and said, sweetly, to his mother's face across the dinner table – ah, I'm so terribly sorry.

"Charles," Carlos breathes out, awfully measured. He looks down at himself, the front of his shirt soaked in red; he looks up at Charles, at the silver of his collarbone, taunting, and then at his lips – parted, enticing. Red.

He is never hueless, a speck of color in the eyes of a charging bull with a knife stuck in his neck. Some of the red has rubbed off on Carlos, too. Perhaps it's just the wine sticking to his skin.

"Oops," Charles whispers. Tilts his head, neck bared, one of his beloved chain necklaces pooling in the hollow of his throat. A flutter of his inky-black eyelashes, a picture of tarnished innocence.

Perhaps not.

Downstairs, gathered in the isolation of a spacious dining room, a heated exchange in Spanish bounces off the walls, collides with the ceiling, making the floor beneath Carlos' feet vibrate and wobble. Charles' genuine sweetness is a perfect cover for the sharpness of his teeth; he bit the hand that's been feeding Carlos for decades without a second of hesitation once he felt it reaching for his neck. To Carlos, Charles' smile – bloody in the aftermath – was sugary and dauntless.

Or maybe it was the wine that spilt from the the glass held in his father's hand raised for a toast of mockery.

Carlos' jaw clicks. The lock on the door does, too, when he turns it without breaking eye contact with Charles, staring him down still as he undoes his shirt – a button, then a step forward; another button off and Charles hoists himself up on the counter with little grace. Carlos had gone up to change out of his ruined clothes, Charles following him purposefully, but now his vision tunnels on the distinct shape of Charles, unmarred by the heady scent of wine from a bottle that's older than both of them. His restraint fades. Carlos inhales, nostrils flaring. His shirt is gone, nothing but a handful of fabric fisted in his hand, and Charles' knees part, inviting, beaconing Carlos with a call that drowns out the rest of the noise.

"Ay, of course. Oops," he repeats, mimicking Charles slightly, eyes squinting and his breath momentarily caught. With ease, his body slots into the cradle of Charles' spread legs. He's leaning back, practically lounging, drawing out time like torn out strings. Carlos knows why, what purpose it serves. He reads it in Charles' gaze skirting over his bare chest, in the corner of his wine-stained lips when he tilts Charles' head up with a finger pressed under his chin. "It's better if you're quiet then, since you made a mess. Yes?"

Charles' defiance knows no bounds and Carlos envies him, wants to steal it for himself but Charles is in the one who relents in the end, cuts the rope before it snaps. The soft edges of him were never a curse in Carlos' eyes but he's failed to learn how to let go in time, an old dog that has run out of its tricks. And it's familiar – the way Carlos has to do nothing but Charles mouth drops open after time stretches into something unreal, just enough for him to slip the wine-soaked shirt past his lips and wait for Charles to clamp onto it, ostentatiously obedient. Carlos caresses his cheek with shaky patience, then passes his fingers through Charles' silky hair. His eyes flutter shut.

It's when Carlos moves, in the sliver of a moment when he's out of sight, pressing his face into the crook of Charles' neck and grabbing onto his waist. Downstairs, a storm brews and scratches against the door, but they're fused together now, uncaring. Carlos' lips mouth an absence of earnest words up the column of Charles' neck; he reaches down to unzip Charles' pants, wrapping deft fingers around his shamelessly hard, wet cock. Carlos steadies himself now, leaning into the habit with a few strokes. So predictable.

Charles' fingers dig into his shoulders like talons; another trap closes in, tears into his flesh but Carlos doesn't mind.

He'll blame it on the wine.

Send me a ship/character(s) and a one word prompt and I will write a 5 sentence (or more) fic about it.

[uwabbittuwabbit]

some like it hot rosquez :) based on this picture this is my first time writing smut lol so apologies for the length :( also i am SHIT at writing dialogue i am so sorry

It's an ugly feeling. There's no air conditioning in the room they're staying in and Vale has Marc pressed into the mattress with his hand in his hair, the window thrown open as an only respite to the feverish weather. A rectangle of pure heat frames Marc's head, the sunlight separating it from the rest of his body that lies beneath the shadow of Valentino. They're both rank with sweat and as Vale mouths the column of Marc's neck he also tastes: sunscreen, the saliva in his mouth, the metal links of a necklace. Valentino grins, taking the chain between his teeth, and he pulls. He was always one to take the reins that were handed to him, to bite the bit when the time was right. And Marc is easy, so easy; a loud, choked off gasp leaving him as he follows Vale's lead, his head rearing back. Vale can feel Marc's throat working against the chain, the movement pressing the links into his tongue. Another sound escapes Marc, a little hiccuping whine, and Vale chooses this moment to let go of the necklace; rewarding him with a particularly nasty downstroke of the hips, his dick somehow feeling hotter than the searing entirety of Marc all around him. God, it was hot, his palm damp in Marc's hair, sweat dripping into his eyes and making them sting. He can feel Marc, how he bucks with impatience, that he's close, and he can see it in his minds eye, the finish, tunnel vision like in the straight before a checkered flag. So, Vale does what he would with the bike: chest pressed against the burnished skin of Marc's back, he brings it home.

"You should wear my things more", he tells Marc after, when they are no longer so sticky with sweat. He's rewarded with a breathy little laugh, and as Vale feels Marc's hand stroke through his hair he thinks he can still see the little indentations left behind by the necklace on Marc's neck, the number 46 still vaguely etched into the side of his collarbone. The feeling that overwhelms him, then, can only be described as terrifying. Never has he felt something so total and absolute for someone that it eclipses all reason, that he has to close his eyes to let it pass. When he has gathered enough sense back into himself, Marc's gaze is upon him, sweet and amber in the fading daylight. Maybe he fell asleep, the heat dragging him under, making everything slow, slow. Vale has always counted himself as one of the luckiest men in the world but he never thought he would be so lucky to have this, to walk off from the table having gambled all of his life's savings away but for one coin, one more bet left in the cards. That, he supposes, is love, and the sweltering confines of the cheap motel room suddenly become altogether too much again. The soft smile on Marc's face ticks into something sharper, bladed with mischief. "Well, obviously, since you're such a narcissist", he replies, oh the little bastard! Vale cannot help the incredulous sound that tumbles out of him. Inspired, he reaches towards the little charm of his number around Marc's neck, bringing it to his mouth to kiss it. Now it's Marc's turn to laugh his odd laugh, his shoulders shaking with mirth, eyes crinkled with it. "I am entirely full of myself but so are you," Vale declares, wiggling his eyebrows for maximum effect. He's an old dog with old tricks, but who is anyone except for Marc to judge? And Vale knows, sees Marc fall for it every time, his giggles intensifying as Vale sets upon him with kisses all along his neck and face. He was thinking of something more permanent, maybe. He was thinking about a ring on Marc's finger. But that can wait, because if anything, they have time. They have all the time in the world.

[mychlapci]

Planetfucker scenario? I'll try my best! If this is a hit, I'll write a (weird-birth-stuff) part 2! :D

AU where at the very start of the war, when Orion first acquired the Matrix, tensions were so high that he could not reasonably abandon his Autobots to spend Primus knows how many cycles on Earth appeasing the Unmaker… After many lengthy debates with the high council and his closest confidants, shockingly Prowl volunteered to go in his stead.

Prowl, young but pragmatic, argues that it's for the best. The Autobots need a leader, which Prowl is not. What he is is knowledgeable, quick witted, and level headed. He's perfectly capable of impersonating a Prime for the union rituals. Maybe he underestimated the task, or maybe he simply doesn't trust anyone else to do it right. 

Optimus protests at first, but eventually concedes… and Prowl is sent to Earth in his stead. 

He makes a stunning bride, clad from helm to peds in traditional crystal jewelry. Prime dresses Prowl himself, hanging glimmering heirloom jewels from his doorwings and stringing beaded necklaces around his neck and waist as he guiltily laments his decision to let Prowl shoulder one of his sworn duties. He accompanies Prowl all the way to Earth, bidding his friend goodbye, goodluck, and thanks before returning to Cybertron.

Upon arrival, Prowl finds himself standing at the maw of a grand cavern hidden deep within a mountainous region of Earth. The air emanating from inside is warm and humid. He enters cautiously, descending a winding path to the heart of the cave system.

The further he walks, the more he swears he can sense the walls around him pulsing in a faint but constant rhythm… The Unmaker knows he’s here.

He traverses a series of neverending tunnels, relying on his senses and pure instinct to lead him through the maze-like system. The further he walks, the more oppressive the heat and humidity becomes, the walls seem to narrow and close in around him. Black creeps into the corners of his vision, and a thick fog of static clouds his processor the closer he draws to Unicorn's core. He's barely aware of the gradual charge steadily building in his array until he feels slick seeping from the seams of his panel. 

Hours, or maybe days pass. By the time he reaches the core, he's enveloped in nauseating heat, swaying with every step as his vision swims in and out of focus. The walls pulse around him in a steady rhythm, lulling him deeper into a haze. 

Dim biolights cast the small central chamber in a warm red glow, every surface inside is made of plush organic matter. At the center of the Unmaker’s core is an engorged mass of flesh and tangled tendrils, eggs shifting visibly beneath its surface, with something resembling a valve at its center. 

Prowl’s whole frame feels feverish, his breath coming out in ragged pants as a sweet, heady scent assails his senses. His panels snap open, lubricant gushing down his trembling thighs and his spike already fully pressurized. He collapses over the mound before he can stop himself. 

His head is pounding as he pants and moans against the soft organic matter. He can't think, but he knows what to do. The countless crystals which adorn his frame gleam beneath the pulsating biolights around him, chiming and jingling with every quiver of his doorwings, reflecting a kaleidoscope of shifting red and pink lights all around the chamber. 

His bleary optics are transfixed on the pretty lights as he feebly ruts his spike into the slick, hot valve of the Unmaker. He doesn't last very long… but here, mere seconds feel like an eternity. And he doesn't stop after the first overload. He pumps load after load of transfluid into Unicron's greedy valve, sobbing and shaking as his spike is milked in time with the rhythm of the pulsing lights around him. 

Eventually, he collapses over the plush bed of tendrils and fleah, his battle computer offline and higher functions failing him as the rhythmic throb of the lights and walls flood his senses. 

Prowl’s half-hard spike is still buried in the Unmaker’s valve. He’s on the verge of unconsciousness when he feels a thin, slimy tendril coiling around his leg. Then another, caressing his jaw, slimy and sluggish as it slides over his face like a long, deft tongue. The cavern around him rumbles, a pleased purr emanating from the Unmaker as it maps out Prowl's features. More join, caressing his frame and playing with the pretty jewels that adorn it. 

When the first tentacle finds his valve, Prowl nearly short circuits. His inner callips eagerly cycle around the digit, coaxing it further inside as his anterior node throbs with charge. Two more join the first, pumping in and out of his valve, twisting together and writhing within him before pulling apart and shamelessly spreading him wide open. Prowl whines weakly at the sensation, mind numbing static smothering any discomfort and leaving only dull aching pleasure in its wake. 

A new tendril emerges from the nest beneath him, thick and slimy as it slides against the curve of his aft. It lines up with his gaping hole, easing its way inside with no difficulty. Prowl squeals as it hits his ceiling node with the first slow, deep thrust. 

Unicron sets a steady pace, pounding Prowl's sloppy valve in a maddening rhythm. Prowl jerks and bucks his hips with every drag against his calipers, grinding his spike against the Unmaker’s valve as he squirms and wriggles in its hold. He's held in place by countless tendrils, they coil around his limbs and wriggle against his plating. One finds its way to his mouth, sliding against his glossa before finally fucking his throat in earnest.

Prowl’s vaguely aware of the mass beneath him shifting, the massive clutch of eggs inside moving and deprleting as the thick tentacle in his valve forces its way deeper, bullying the seal of his gestation tank until it finally gives.

His vision goes white, his cries muffled by the tendril in his mouth as the one in his valve suddenly expands. 

Prowl’s calipers are spread wide around the first of many eggs as they're pumped into his gestation tank one after another. For what feels like an eternity, he lays twitching, writhing, and in a near constant state of overload as his sloppy valve swallows Unicron’s clutch. His midriff swells and distends as his spike drools transfluid in a near constant stream, leaking all over the Unmaker's remaining eggs which the tendril promptly pumps into his valve to incubate. 

By the time Unicron is finished, Prowl’s a twitching, drooling mess. All he can do is whine and twitch against the bed of flesh beneath him, engulfed in a mass of writhing tentacles which leaves no spot on his frame untouched…

When Prowl finally emerges from the caves, he has no concept of how much time has passed. He gradually regains cognition, only to realize how much his frame has changed. The seams of his plating are caked with strange sweet slime, his hips are wider… And most obviously, his stomach is horribly distended, awkwardly impeding his gait. 

All he can do is slowly waddle out into the open, the few crystals which still hang from his doorwings jingling with every trundle.

He rests his weary frame atop a flat slab of rock as he absentmindedly activates a locater beacon. Though his mind is mostly clear now, he can't fight the overwhelming urge to return to Cybertron to birth his mate’s brood…

-🦴

ohhHh buddy this was a fucking banger. extremely funny confession, i haven’t even considered Unicron getting his brides pregnant yet ahsjjskhshhk

I love everything about this, the way entering Unicron only makes Prowl more and more hazy and horny, the way time passes slowly and sludge-like and his processor feels so overwhelmed with sensation, Unicron’s valve beckoning him forth, tendrils slipping egg after egg into Prowl until he’s overloading constantly without a break….

mhmmm Prowl comes back to Cybertron bearing the spawn of his new conjux, and Optimus can't help but think about how it was him who was supposed to be in Prowl's role right now, birthing Unicron's brood....

[relicsongmel]

I've already explained my thoughts on how Dahlia fears Iris' love because it's the only thing contradicting her worldview that she is inherently unlovable, and how her inability to handle that reality affects the way she returns that love (i.e. in an incredibly backwards and convoluted manner). But recently I've also been quite captivated by the idea that maybe a similar principle holds true for Iris herself.

That being, that Iris is deeply afraid of her own capacity for love.

Iris, who feels Dahlia's pain so deeply as if it were her own (and it often is due to their shared upbringing). So hurt by the idea of her beloved sister hurting that it drives her mad. So much so that'd she'd do anything to help her feel whole again. So she loses herself, gives everything that she is and has to make sure her sister knows she's not alone. To some, it would be a lofty sacrifice, but to Iris, there's not much loss in throwing your life away when your life never had much meaning to begin with. And it's worth it, if it's for Dahlia.

At least, that's what she'd like to think.

In truth, Iris is utterly terrified of the person she turns into when Dahlia asks for her help. How all she can focus on is protecting her sister from harm or blame, to the point that everything and everyone else either fades into the shadows...or becomes warped into a simple cog in the machine of whatever crime they were unfortunate enough to become tangled in. Murder weapons become tools for freedom. People become mere vessels for whatever role they've been assigned. Any collateral damage—lives lost, scapegoats blamed, and the suffering of all parties hurt as a result—becomes an afterthought.

Only when it's all over does Iris snap back to reality and realize the weight of what she's done, and the guilt is enough to crush her. But all too soon, before she can finally swear off letting herself give in to overbearing compassion to the detriment of herself and others, Dahlia needs another "favor" and the cycle repeats itself again. And again...and again.

Eventually, somehow, Iris decides enough is enough, and narrowly manages to convince her sister not to kill the man who unknowingly accepted incriminating evidence from her latest plot to eliminate anyone standing in her way. She agrees to take on the burden of retrieving said evidence, and at first, she treats this task as she would any other cover-up job: not quite as dangerously tunnel-visioned as in crimes past due to there being less at stake, but with a certain air of detachment nonetheless. She doesn't want the man to be hurt, sure, but it's less about him specifically and more about Dahlia, who's dug herself so deep into a ditch of seeking revenge that she can no longer climb out unless Iris throws a rope down to save her. However, not long into her mission...something unexpected happens.

The man she's taken it upon herself to save from Dahlia's wrath is a deceptively tough nut to crack. For all Phoenix Wright seems easygoing and happy-go-lucky on the surface, there's a certain stubbornness lurking underneath—and despite asking numerous times, Iris can't seem to convince him to return Dahlia's deadly poison-bearing necklace. She's going to have to keep up the "girlfriend" charade for longer than she thought, but...for some reason, that reality doesn't bother her as much as she would have expected. In fact...it almost seems to invigorate her.

The version of herself when she's with him, despite literally bearing a different name than her own, feels more authentic and natural than any other role she's been born into, forced into, or crafted for herself out of desperation. And when one rainy October day she's lifted up and spun around in Phoenix's arms after she came to Ivy University's art building to deliver an assignment he had forgotten at home, Iris finally figures out the reason why.

When she locks eyes with him as he gently sets her down...

Iris realizes she's falling in love.

And Iris, knowing exactly the lengths she's willing to go to for love, feels nothing but despair at that realization, despite her face being flushed as red as her dyed hair and her heart feeling like it could burst forth from her chest at any moment.

How many more people could be hurt because of her feelings for a man she was never supposed to meet, let alone fall in love with? How long will Dahlia let her maintain this illusion until she gets impatient and takes matters into her own hands? If it came down to it, which one of the people she loves most in the world would Iris choose to protect? Which one of them would she have to sacrifice? Is her love forever fated to result in tragedy, or can she save both of them somehow?

In the end, Iris is powerless to help either of them—Dahlia is found guilty of murder and sentenced to execution, and Phoenix is nearly poisoned by Dahlia, initially framed for the murder she committed and leaves the ordeal deeply scarred by her betrayal. And Iris, having done so much for their sakes and yet still failing them, decides that she should at least do what she can to protect the one that still has a life ahead of him: Phoenix. And given that her involvement with him led to nothing but devastation—her love led to nothing but devastation, she decides to permanently isolate herself from him in the hopes that he can eventually move on and heal without her. The idea of leaving him behind (while he's experiencing such profound grief, no less) makes her heart ache, but to her the feeling is nothing if not deserved, and at least she can rest easy knowing that Dahlia is no longer a threat to him. And by sequestering herself on Eagle Mountain, she can protect him and others from the frequently gruesome outcomes of her undying devotion.

Iris spends five whole years surrounding her life around a practice she hates, to "atone" for her sin of letting her love corrupt her. Too fearful of it to face the truth of the hurt she's caused. And Phoenix spends five whole years suffering because of it.

Iris' love is pure, all-encompassing, and selfless. But the ironic reality she struggles against is that such love can also make her terribly, terribly cruel.

A cruelty not unlike that of her sister.

[saturngalore]

fatfruitychic 🌈

a colorful lookbook stylized for fat sims 😇

tysm to all the cc creators <3 i was heavily inspired @mycatzfave, b3v.ie on insta, and la’shaunae’s clothing collab with tunnel vision! not gonna sugarcoat this but unfortunately there will be some clipping and weight limits because ya know…art imitates life. hopefully, fat fashion gets wayyyy better both irl and in the sims SOON. cc links below ⬇️ tsr, mega, simsdom warnings **

~

🍒 sweet cherry cola (naomi) ~ a) cherry earrings** b) bella top c) low waist skirt d) maverick platforms

extras: kim hair, butterfly necklace, dragon claws, butterfly chain belt, whale tail, butterfly anklet

🍊 tangerine dreams (khadijah) ~ a) goldfish earrings b) keek top c) jada tote bag d) bitter end bottoms

extras: sandals, honey locs

🍯 metallic honey (monét) ~ a) nihilist blue top and gloves b) layla skirt c) mynx tights d) mei buckle boots

extras: alannah hair, choker, leg garter spikes

🥝 neon kiwi kisses (zahara) ~ a) chaewon fishnet gloves b) funhouse halter top c) juice jeans

extras: daija dreads

🌠 baby blue estrellita (yeonji) ~ a) headphones b) just dance top c) star maxi d) lara slides

extras: hystrix hair, ebano eyeliner

💟 amethyst passion (xolani) ~ a) jules gloves b) converse top c) baggy sweats d) platform shoes

extras: amaya hair, flashback eyeliner

💕 bubblegum heaven (nylah)~ a) alex earrings b) tye dye butterfly top c) material girl thong d) soho maxi skirt e) sun & moon accessory top

extras: vintage headphones, chunky sandals**, glumbut braids, 90s resin rings

🖤 midnight rose (mimi) ~ a) sunglasses b) fishnet top** c) long low waist skirt d) platform sandals

extras: sasha hair**, waist beads, tramp stamp, 90s nails

[gingermintpepper]

Day 1: Apollo

Interpretation notes and trivia under the cut!

His interpretation for my work is based very much around the concept of his manifestation as the Radiant God of the String. Because of this, quite like Hecate, he’s triple-fold and occupies three major spaces; the string of Fate and therefore prophecy, the bowstring and therefore distance and destruction and the lyrestring and therefore music and order. He’s a somewhat melancholy figure all things considered - Fate and following Fate’s tennants is something that he struggled a lot with as a child and even now as a more mature deity, the only solution he’s truly found is to take things one day at a time. Very diligent and fastidious, he’s a hard worker and tends to put his everything into completing any task set before him which also tends to work to his disadvantage since he’s prone to becoming tunnel-visioned until he’s finished what he said he would finish. His family orchestrated his winter breaks because he had the nasty habit of working himself sick when he was still very young.

Apollo is generally represented by circles in my work - priests of Apollo will be marked with at least three circles on their face and usually wear triangular jewellry (typically earrings or necklace charms) to reflect the triple-nature of their god. His favoured colour is a rich, deep blue and while he typically wears elaborate eye paint, he rarely uses face powders. Wears gem-toned blues for his lips unless in mourning where he will leave himself unadorned and unpainted out of respect.

Some quick trivia: 

Was born identical to Artemis even though they were born (years) apart. Had brown hair, wolf’s ears and fangs and horns when he was a child but never manifested those features again after his penance for slaying Python. If he’s very stressed or angry, sometimes his fangs will show. The brown of his hair grew out to blond naturally as he developed and matured as a god.

Proficient in all instruments but has always especially preferred stringed instruments. Truly unmatched with a kithara but only uses it for special occasions and official meetings. Generally prefers his lyre for every day usage

Really good at sewing and braiding strings together due to the exercises he had to do while under the tutelage of the Moirai sisters. Can’t weave since Athena banned him from touching a loom but he does like watching her spin. The one time she caught him trying to replicate her patterns with a needle and thread, she complained to Zeus that he had broken his oath. He teases her about that even now.

Was the last of the Twelve to learn how to read and write because he hates letter systems and finds it too arbitrary. Prior to the collaboration that resulted in written letter systems, everyone was perfectly fine with remembering the important stuff and encoding the rest in artistic format such as tapestries, pottery, furniture and jewellry. Apollo himself has a truly formidable memory since he’s been composing and immortalising the events and histories of the world in song since he was very young. He finds written books very dull but Clio’s very insistent about written histories being important and convenient so reluctantly, he’s given permission for his songs and poems to be -gags- transcribed and written down.

Is only called Apollo by his parents, Artemis and Dionysus. Hermes rarely calls him by name in general and the others, including other siblings like Ares and Athena, have always called him Phoebus. Interestingly, Zeus usually calls him Phoebus but will call him Apollo when they are alone or when he’s being especially serious. Apollo is completely comfortable with either name but he does see Phoebus as a bit more formal than Apollo. (Despite his best efforts, both Calliope and Clio also still stubbornly call him Phoebus though he’s fairly sure it’s mostly because they know it bothers him.)

[fatesmono]

valentines day with yoongi

✮⋆˙ warning : some language + i haven’t written in half a year so.

✮⋆˙ this is an “x reader” so yk insert gender <3

✮⋆˙a.n : so todays valentine’s day (its the 13th at 11:59 posting this, great job me :3). so happy valentines i guess. i’m spending it celebrating jaehyun's birthday and writing abt my husband who’s in the war. i haven’t written in like, six years (six months) so pls go easy on me 

✮⋆˙enjoy loves <3333 happy valentines day !!

i never liked valentine’s day. it was always a stupid ass holiday if i do say so myself. am i saying that bc i never had a good valentine ? …maybe so, why are you so nosy ?? anyways, that was before i met him, min yoongi. i never met a man who says he hates a holiday so much but also goes all out for it. our first valentines last year i expected him to not really get me anything or like a bouquet of flowers since it wasn’t that much…i got a bouquet alright, like seven of them (he had said he didn’t know which one i would like so he just got me all of the ones he thought i would want), plus a shit ton of chocolate and just little things like one of his hoodies and this ring i had been eyeing for like months beforehand. so much for “valentines day isn’t really my thing” right ? all men do is lie, even min yoongi.

okay but anyways, here we are now, a year later. i wanna prove myself this year, i refuse to be out-valentines’d by him, no matter what that takes. now just one problem, he’s rich, i work at a coffee shop. shit, i know right ? but we will make it work i don’t care. 

so have i had this planned out for the last two months like a gta heist ? yes. but i NEED this day to go perfect. did it ? NO. NO IT DIDNT. first the necklace i got him with his name won’t be ready until the 17th, and then the kiss hoodie i was working on for him GETS BLEACHED SPILLED ON HIM, curtesy of our cat, johnny, and then; if it wasn’t going awful anyway, the cupcakes i made for him burned. and i’m going to his studio as we speak…this is my thirteenth reason. so right now all we have is his favorite flowers, a bleached hoodie with my kisses and a book of poems i wrote for him, sigh. SIGH. and if it didn’t help, he already gave me half of my gift before he left and it’s ten times better. A ROSE GOLD NECKLACE, he got me a rose gold encrusted with the sun because “i’m the sun to his moon”, he makes me wanna bash my head sometimes from how sweet he is. 

so getting to his studio, the definition of “shaking in my little boots”. i can hear him practicing his music from outside his studio, it’s like walking into beethoven working on smth if beethoven was your 30 year old idol boyfriend for a kpop group, if that makes sense, which is doesn’t so. anyways, i put in the code for his studio (it’s our anniversary, excuse me while i cry.) and quietly walk in to not disturb him, which isn’t that hard since he has tunnel vision as he invented it, and quietly tap his shoulder gently to get his attention. he turns around, taking off his headphones and noticing me with a small smile on his face, which might as well have been a kiss from him then and then. 

“hey love, happy valentine’s day, what are you doing here ?”, god why does he have to have such a perfect voice; it’s like he doesn’t even have to try. i go on to give him to give him his gift and try to explain that i had much more to give him and i knew it wasn’t enough to give and- and he cuts me off. good job if i do say so myself because the yapping i do, i could win a medal. 

“honey honey, this is perfect…you didn’t even have to get me anything, and you wrote me poems…that’s like writing me a song, this means the world to me. you remembered my favorite flowers, and this hoodie..i don’t think i’ve ever gotten a gift like this from anyone before, not even the guys. thank you so much…”, and my heart just turns into a puddle then and there. all my worries gone in a second, how does he do it ? he really should’ve become a therapist in another life, but i guess he does that with his music. but anyways, did i expect him to like the gift ? absolutely not. i did try to pay for dinner that night and he still didn’t let me do it, saying it was “an extra gift” as if i needed anymore gifts. remind me next to try and not outgift a rich idol who’s secret love language is definitely gift giving. 

i’m still getting next years gifts ready anyways. i’m so winning next year, i don't care.

[zhansww]

[ranfused4ever]

[fatmasc]

every time I wear color my friends treat it like a national holiday

ID: two mirror selfies. the person is wearing black sweater with red and yellow damask-style patterns knit in, black skinny jeans, and combat boots. they are wearing a black chain necklace, a gold brooch with a red gem at the center, a skinny red belt, and a silver watch. End ID

outfit details below the cut ;0

Sweater: vintage, bought from Tunnel Vision

Pants: Asos

Shoes: Doc Martens

Accessories: necklace and brooch bought secondhand, no brand. watch is Casio, bought secondhand. belt from Spikes and Leather USA on Etsy

[ange-la-ange-ootd]

chess chocolate from earlier this year

Chess chocolate skirt - Angelic Pretty No Evil shirt - Send Dudes ruffle cardigan - Tunnel Vision shoes, beret - The Lolita Collective a little tied up earrings - Kikay necklace - Liz Lisa rings - Holley Tea Time, Dandy Puppeteer

[ID: A pink, chocolate brown, and off-white casual lolita coordinate. The main piece is a skirt with an elaborate border print, lace trim and gold button details. The print on the skirt has illustrations of chocolate chess pieces, ribbons, cutlery, and crowns against a pink diamond background. It's paired with a pink graphic shirt with a ruffled brown cardigan layered on top. The rest of the outfit includes off-white tights, brown lolita shoes, brown beret, and cute pink and white accessories.]

[aemondapologistfrfr]

Dethrone - Chapter 10

Summary: Their betrothal is announced at court and they discuss their thoughts and plans on how to go about the ascension. First stop on the tour is Storms End and Aemond can barely control his temper with a useless Lord Borros. Aemond tries to keep his composure around his needy betrothed.

Warnings: 18+, bathing together, oral(f receiving), fingering, nudity, thigh riding, half of a handjob, swearing, mention of murder, political plotting?

Authors Note: I’m going to lock in on this fic and start editing it quicker (i say this to myself everyday 😵‍💫), he looked so good in ep 4 it’s crazy

Word Count: 4.5k ?

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

“Princess, I have your dress!” Kaenna calls from the other side of the door, knocking waking me and Aemond.

“One moment!” I reply falling out of the bed as the sheets tangle my legs.

“Princess?” Kaenna asks worriedly.

“Kaenna please give me a moment! I’m putting a robe on!” I call out rising from the ground to see a smirking Aemond.

“Into the tunnels now!” I whisper pointing at the entrance.

Aemond chuckles and grabs his pants putting them on with haste. I have my robe on and approach the door. I wave at Aemond telling him to hurry up before Kaenna gets too curious. Aemond is shutting the door to the tunnels as I open the main one.

“I’m sorry, I’ve slept in.” I say yawning pulling the door shut behind her.

Kaenna brushes past me and makes her way into my chambers. She’s holding a gown bag and hangs it up near my wardrobe. She takes in the messy state of my room and looks at me knowingly.

“How long has he been staying in here with you?” Kaenna asks crossing her arms.

“What are you talking about?” I ask brushing her off walking over to the gown bag.

“Aemond. That’s his jacket. Is it not?” Kaenna points to a jacket that is indeed Aemonds.

“He left it here last night.” I reply flatly not trying to give anything away.

“Hm.” she eyes me suspiciously. “I found a seamstress who was able to make your vision come to life.” she opens up the gown bag showing me the work of art.

“It’s absolutely breathtaking and exactly what I wanted.” I say in awe of the beautiful gown in front of me.

The gown itself is a dark blue it’s almost black. It has two twin black dragons coming down over the shoulder. They both create a plunging neckline and meet in the center. The sleeves come to a point and has a loop that wraps around my middle fingers. The dress clings to my body, yet flows elegantly around me.

Kaenna helps me put the gown on and it fits perfectly. She brings out a box and hands it to me. I open it and inside is a beautiful sapphire necklace that she helps place around my neck. She braids a small crown on my head but leaves the rest of my hair cascading down my back.

“You look absolutely beautiful.” Kaenna smiles at me affectionately.

“Thank you.” I smile hugging her tightly.

“Do you want me to pick up your chambers while you’re at court? Or will I find other items that belong to Aemond?” she asks raising an eyebrow.

“If you could, I would appreciate it.” I say with tinted cheeks. “You most likely will find more of Aemonds belongings here.” I say truthfully as I head towards the door.

I open the doors and Aemond is standing outside of them waiting for me. He’s at a loss for words as he takes in my gown. He stalks around me like a predator circling his prey and hums in appreciation.

“You look absolutely divine, my Queen.” he dips his head down to whisper in my ear offering small kisses. “May I escort you to court?” he pulls back and offers me his hand which I accept.

We walk down to the throne room in no rush, relishing in each other’s company. People are still making their way into the hall as we turn the corner. I’ve never considered who I’m to stand with at court. I’m suddenly overcome with nerves and anxiety over what to expect and what could be expected of me today at court.

“What’s wrong, my love?” Aemond asks softly before we enter the hall.

“Who do I stand with? Do I have to go by them? Is it intrusive if I stand with you? Do we stand alone together? I should’ve been asking you more questions about court and-“ he cuts me off from spiraling even further.

“Stand with me and it matters not who we stand by.” he turns me so I’m facing him. “We are just having our betrothal announced to the council and the public who attend. We have nothing to say or do. I would never allow you to make a fool of yourself.” Aemond reassures me putting his hands on my shoulders and smiling softly to me.

“Thank you.” I look up at him appreciatively.

We walk in together and stand next to Alicent with our heads held high. I can feel Jace and Luke staring at me as I stand with the family members that they despise. The murmuring in the hall comes to a close as Viserys is announced and walks up the throne. He sits down and declares the floor open.

I quickly find out how dull court is. Hearing everyone drone on is making me tired. I fidget with my fingers trying to find a way to stay awake and alert. Finally I hear Viserys begin to make our announcement.

“Our lost princess has found love with my son, Aemond. They are to be wed after their tour to celebrate with the realm.” Viserys announces joyously causing a rush of cheers and scattered whispers to go through the hall.

I feel eyes on me from all over the room and I step closer to Aemond. This tour is news to me, although I’m quite excited to explore with Aemond. Celebrating with the realm will allow us a great opportunity to make the connections needed for ascension. Viserys stands and dismisses us as he leaves the hall.

“Did you plan that?” I ask looking up at Aemond.

“You said you wanted to fly and see the great house atop Vaelys. If you don’t want to we can cancel.” he says worried, searching my eyes thinking he made a mistake.

“No no! I would love to see the great houses at your side.” I beam up at him, unable to contain my excitement.

“Congrats brother.” Aegon booms slapping Aemond on the shoulder. “You’ll finally have somewhere to stick it besides your fist.” His words cause me to frown knowing how much they’ll affect Aemond.

I tug Aemond away from Aegon to avoid the fight that was bound to happen. Ser Criston comes up to us as we’re leaving and says Alicent would like to speak to us in her chambers. He leads us up there in silence and offers his congratulations as he opens the door for us.

“Congratulations!” Alicent coos pulling me into a hug first and then Aemond. “You two make such a beautiful couple.” she says sincerely taking us in as her smile broadens.

“Thank you mother.” Aemond replies hushed trying to hide his blush.

“Look at you!” Alicent quips. “I’ve never seen you so shy and bashful before my son!” she laughs as she goes to lounge on a chair.

“Mother,” Aemond groans rubbing his face.

“Hush now,” Alicent motions us to join her sitting. “You both will leave out on the tour in two days time. You’ll be visiting most of the great houses in hopes to make connections. I will not have you visit Runestone if you don’t wish it. You may if you want, but it is completely up to you. Overall, I’m anticipating this tour lasting around three turns of the moon.” Alicent begins filling in some of the details we were unsure of.

“Three turns of the moon?” Aemond asks as I raise my eyebrows at how great that length of time is for us to be traveling alone.

“Indeed my love.” Alicent says nodding. “It will end on Dragonstone with a traditional Valyrian wedding ceremony to unite you two in the old ways. This is a major opportunity for you both to create strong alliances and make dear friends. Invite nobles of high standing to the ceremony so many can bear witness.” my brain begins to calculate if she knows our plans due to her choice of words.

“I’m blown away by your generosity and planning Alicent.” I smile warmly at her trying to assess her body language.

“Thank you, Princess. If you both do well this may help set other plans in motion quicker than expected.” Alicent says giving us a pointed look.

I can’t help my eyebrows scrunching together at her words. I’m quick to change my expression and offer her a smile once more. What plans could she be possibly talking about? I look over to Aemond curiously as he smiles and pulls me closer to him. Alicent fills us in a few more details and dismisses us shortly after. Aemond escorts me out of her chambers and down the hall.

“This dress is absolutely breathtaking.” Aemond leans down to whisper in my ear.

“What plans was she speaking of?” I inquire raising my eyebrow, still not able to shake that conversation out of my head.

“What do you think, Your Grace?” Aemond asks playfully.

“You have told her of our plans to ascend the throne?” I hurriedly whisper. Has he not thought to discuss telling Alicent with me? I calm my voice and my temper and look to him expectantly.

“Of course. We would make much better rulers, no?” Aemond cocks his head to the side.

“Come,” I say pulling his hand. “This is no place for this discussion.” I say leading us to my chambers.

When we enter my chambers I’m relieved Kaenna has managed to clean up our mess. I see a pile of Aemonds clothes neatly folded on a chair with a note on top.

“Lie to me again princess and I’ll ground you like I used to. These are far too many clothes to simply be “left” here. - Kaenna, who raised you.”

I toss the note back onto the pile of clothes and let out a long exhale. So now Kaenna is going to lecture me the next time she sees me. I wonder how she’ll take the news of me and Aemond traveling the realm alone. I turn to Aemond and wait for him to start explaining himself.

“What are these plans that you’ve discussed with your mother then?” I ask crossing my arms, voice slightly clipped.

“I’m assuming they’re similar to the ones you were planning out the other morning on your own.” he hums sprawling back on my chase lazily.

“Enlighten me.” I say claiming the chair across him throwing my legs up on the table.

“Time out the right deaths and disappearances and we’ll have a clear path to our coronation.” Aemond says leaning back and studying me.

“Beginning with Aegons disappearance?” I cock my head watching his emotions.

“Indeed.” a smile begins to form on his face.

“Then Helaena and their children’s disappearance.” I add starting to go down my mental list that I’ve been forming.

“Mm, I hadn’t thought of that.” Aemond raises his eyebrow smiling at me.

“Which is why this conversation should have happened between us first. This is our future. I like having your mother as an ally and supporter but we should have spoken to her together.” I know my anger is seeping through my words and I don’t intend them to be so stern.

“I did not mean to undermine you. From this moment further it will just be us discussing these plans.” he says looking to me.

“Thank you.” I smile softly.

We continue planning and moving events along a timeline. Speaking this aloud and making plans to actually seize the throne captures my breath for a moment. I have never been able to actively make plans to make my dream finally come true. I smile finally feeling some sense of purpose having all of the pieces fall into place.

“We will have a clear path to coronation with these plans. This tour will be a great tool for us to ensure it’s smooth.” he hums offering me insight to his ideas as well.

“I would still like to be able to enjoy this tour.” I won’t miss this opportunity to see new things that I’ve only been able to read about.

“Of course, my love. We shall see it all and do whatever pleases you. They are celebrating us. We get to decide when we want to have advantageous conversations.” he assures nodding his head.

“There hasn’t been a royal tour in a while, we must make a good impression.” I think out loud.

“Everyone will love you and you won’t even have to try.” Aemond hums. “And we’re bringing our dragons, they’ll have no choice but to love us.” he chuckles lowly.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

The past day and a half has been chaotic as everyone is preparing Aemond and I, along with both of our dragons, to go on a tour. Gowns are made in haste so I can wear a new one at each house I visit. Kaenna helps pack my trunks for me all the while giving me a stern talking to about sharing chambers with Aemond before we are wed. She relents about the sleeping situation when it comes to the tour and makes Aemond swear to her I won’t be out of his sight.

“Of course. I promise no harm will come to her.” Aemond swears bowing his head.

I say a final goodbye to Kaenna before we exit our chambers. We walk slowly through the streets taking in Kings Landing before we’re gone for three moons. Once we reach our dragons, Alicent and Daemon come into view. They’re standing awkwardly by each other and look uncomfortable in each others presence.

“I expect you both to be on your best behavior and to show off the strength of this house. Make friends, but stay aware of your surroundings. Stay with each other and you both will be safe, I know this.” Alicent says grabbing our hands and squeezing them.

“Don’t make a fool of yourself and in turn make a fool out of me.” Daemon offers no other words and simply leaves.

“Tonight you will dine at Storms End and enjoy the Stormlands for the next week. Do your best to make allies and please take care of each other.” Alicent smiles softly.

“We will be fine mother.” he hums smiling down at me.

Alicent pulls us into one last hug and waves to us as she leaves. Aemond checks to make sure our bags have been secured. What we can’t carry on dragonback we have being sent to the houses to await our arrival. When he’s satisfied that everything is tied down and packed he walks over to me. He pulls me into a fierce kiss as I mold to his body.

“Let’s start our conquest, my Queen.” Aemond kisses my neck as he pulls back.

We mount our dragons and enter the skies. My hair whips wildly around me as I lean my body to adjust to our angle. Vaelys slips into a leisurely glide meeting Vhagar.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

We approach the Storms End in the late afternoon and begin lowering down to an empty patch of stone. Vhagar lands first as Vaelys circles the castle before landing next to her. Aemond and I collect our bags to bring down from our dragons and place them on the ground.

“Allow us!” a servant appears with a couple more trailing behind of him.

“Thank you.” I reply warmly offering them a smile.

They bow their heads in response and bring our bags into the castle. Aemond and I slowly walk into the main hall hand in hand. I’m blown away by the architecture of the halls and can’t stop myself from looking around and taking it all in.

“Wait until you see the other houses.” Aemond says casually, unimpressed almost.

“I can’t wait to see them all.” I say turning to him smiling. “Where are we going?” I ask realizing I’ve just been following him as we walk the halls.

“No idea. If we would’ve been greeted when we arrived, we would probably be in our chambers by now.” Aemond says slightly annoyed.

“My Prince! My Princess!” a voice calls from behind.

“Who might you be?” Aemond raises an eyebrow at what appears to be another servant.

“Lord Borros’ advisor. I’m here to escort you to him.” he says ushering us his way.

“Were we not important enough to merit a proper welcome?” Aemond says squinting his eye.

“Curious, I was thinking the same thing.” I agree cocking my head.

“I apologize for any dis-“ he’s cut off.

“I will hear it from Lord Borros himself.” Aemond silences him as we finally approaching him.

The servant leads us to the main hall and we’re greeted by Lord Borros lounging in his house seat. When he finally deigns to acknowledge us he sits there expectantly staring at us.

I know we are supposed to try our best to create alliances but this man is acting foul and I don’t necessarily think I would care for him as an ally. When I turn to look at Aemond he seems to be mirroring my sentiment.

“Good afternoon, Lord Borros. Thank you for hosting us, you have a beautiful home.” I politely smile trying to break the tension.

“It’s my honor.” he responds as if he couldn’t care less. He looks us over and then turns back to his servants. He continues to ignore us and I can feel my temper rising to match Aemonds next to me.

“Then I’m sure you’ll be absolutely bereft to hear we will only be staying for 2 nights instead of a week.” he finishes surprising me with the drastic change in time spent here.

“Terribly sorry to hear that.” Lord Borros tosses out at us. “My servant will show you to your chambers. Dinner will be at 7.” he finishes waving a hand towards us in dismissal.

The anger radiates off of both of us and I can see the terror it’s causing in the servant who’s leading us to our chambers. He lets us know our bags have been brought up and to simply ask if we need anything. I thank him sincerely before I shut the door.

“I think we should leave here now. That man won’t be won over with dinners.” Aemonds anger is still radiating off of him.

“I think we should try and stay for the two nights. Not for him, for me. I wish to look around and explore.” I turn to him hopeful eyes.

“Of course. I would not rob you of that.” He rises and walks to me taking my hand in his. “You deserve to be treated better than this and I’m disgusted with that beast of a Lord.” his temper starts to rise again.

“We have time before dinner to decompress. Come, lay with me.” I take his hand and lead us to the bed in hopes of simmering down.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

The dinner went exactly as expected and I had to talk Aemond out of having us leave immediately after. I don’t expect a warmer greeting in town but I still wish to see this part of the continent. We’ve sent word to Sunspear that we will be arriving earlier than expected and are awaiting their reply in the morning.

“My king,” I whisper into Aemonds ear. “when we rule we can have him replaced if he remains a problem. He’s nothing.” I smile as I kiss his neck.

“You’re ruthless.” he chuckles as his hands start to untie my dress.

We walk to our bathing chambers in a tangle of rushed kisses and flying clothes. We’re both breathing heavily as we reach the large tub filled with hot water. A blush rises to my cheeks as I fully take in his naked body for the first time.

“Don’t look at me like that.” Aemond growls lowly guiding me backwards towards the tub.

“You’re beautiful.” I breathe out looking up at him through my lashes reaching out to touch him.

“In the tub.” he shakes his head mischievously and backs me up to the edge of the tub.

I pout and slowly sink into the water as Aemond rummages through a basket. He sets out some candles and lights them. He walks back over to the me and brings along soaps and oils. He trails a hand across my back as he passes me to sit next to me in the large tub.

“I truly think you are the most handsome man I’ve met.” my voice barely audible as I trail my hand on his thigh next to me.

“Viktorya.” he warns grabbing my wrist.

“You’re right, we shouldn’t waste the hot water.” I say sarcastically as I reach over him intentionally grazing my chest on his to reach the basket.

We bathe in silence as we each steal quick glances at the other. I rise from the bath, unabashed, in search of a towel. I hear Aemond get out after me and a moment later he’s wrapping me in a towel. I turn to him and see that he has a towel wrapped low around his hips.

“Let’s go to bed.” he hums kissing the top of my head.

Aemond pulls us backwards toward the bed while attempting to dry me off. He sits down and moves to the other side so I can get in. He rests back against the headboard and I rise and move to straddle his thigh surprising him. He inhales sharply as my core meets his bare thigh.

“Gods,” his hands fly to my waist as he looks to me with a darkened eye.

He slowly starts guiding me on his thigh. I moan as I grind down causing my hands to fly to his chest at the surge of pleasure that washes over me. My towel falls back on the bed fully exposing me to him. Aemonds breathing becomes more ragged as his fingers dig into my waist.

Our lips meet in a clashing kiss. He nips at my bottom lip and slips his tongue in my mouth as I gasp. One of my hands slide down his chest to move the towel out of the way when he stops my hand from its destination.

“I want you to feel good too. Just use my hand instead of yours tonight.” I whisper breathlessly kissing his jaw.

Aemond moves his hand from mine and unties his towel. The towel falls and I take in the full length of him. His tip is hard and red and I reach out to help relieve him. When my hand finally wraps around him, he lets out a pleasure filled sigh.

I resume rocking on his thigh and moan into our kiss. I squeeze him earning me a moan in return. I collect the beads of come that have appeared at the tip and slide them down his length. He groans into my mouth as my fingers linger and tighten around his tip before sliding down again. He removes my hand and pushes me back on the bed hungrily. He crawls over my body until we’re face to face.

“No more of your naughty hands before I lose control.” he breathes out before he kisses me.

He kisses down my neck and between my breasts. He makes his way to one of my nipples and sucks it into his mouth. He grazes his teeth on my sensitive bud and I arch my chest into his mouth. He chuckles and brings his sinister mouth to my other nipple.

“Aemond,” I whine as he trails kisses down my torso.

“Yes my love?” he looks up at me from between my thighs.

“Touch me, please,” I beg lifting my hips towards him.

“It would be my pleasure.” he smirks softly licking his way up my slit.

I cry out as his tongue flicks across my clit. He feasts upon me as if I’m the true first meal of this tour. He quickly slips two fingers in me and I immediately clench around them. I cry out at his brutal pace and throw my head back into the pillows losing myself.

“Fuck Aemond, yes, please please,” I cry out as my legs begin to shake.

My cries of pleasure seem to spur him on even more and his tongue begins quick teasing patterns on my clit. I grind myself against his tongue and fingers as I come with his name spilling from my lips. He slows allowing me to feel every moment of my high.

“You’re so beautiful when you come on my mouth.” Aemond says full of adoration petting my hair.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

I wake up to Aemond peppering kisses across my face and the sun peeking through the curtains. I slowly stretch and begin to sit up. As the blankets fall around me my chest is left bare.

“Beautiful.” Aemond looks as if he’s worshipping me.

We get dressed and slowly make our way to the dining hall to get something to eat in passing. As we’re on our way out of the castle we are given a letter sealed and addressed to us. Sunspear expresses their excitement and states they would be honored to host us earlier and longer than anticipated.

We make our way to the city with a new sense of enthusiasm. We start to explore the streets and shops as the sun begins to rise in the sky. The locals are more friendly and welcoming than expected. We eat at the food stalls and I stop and buy some jewelry from some local vendors. Aemond purchases himself a dagger while near the forge and compliments their craftsmanship.

We return to the castle only to drop off our bounty and change to celebrate with the city for dinner. Winning over the city and its people can be just as rewarding as winning over its Lord or Lady. As we dine with the locals we ask them about life here and how they treated. We listen intently for hours into the night.

We plant a seed of doubt in the people as we tell them of our departure in the morning. We tell them Lord Borros wasn’t welcoming and no longer wanted to host us. Listening and confiding in the locals will make it much easier if we need to replace Lord Borros.

We make our way back to the castle well after moonrise and begin packing our belongings. Once we’re ready to leave in the morning we retire to bed.

Although this first stop didn’t go as planned, I think it was still successful. We gained the people’s trust and planted some seeds. I’m hoping that the stay in Sunspear will be more welcoming and enjoyable.