#the fruits can be dried if desired

[peachysunrize]

[ TANGERINE DREAMS ]

Summary: being stood up on his wedding day, Aemond’s life takes a turn for the worse. Heartbroken and humiliated, he finds unexpected help in Helaena’s childhood friend, who helps him move back into his family mansion. Summer cocktail parties and a long stay at the Targaryen residency, Aemond might let the girl who’s always been in his life make a home in his heart.

Tangerines, in general, symbolize prosperity, good luck and happiness. So if these delicious fruits appear in your dreams - whole or in the form of juice - it is usually very positive. A dream with tangerines expresses the desire and the possibility of progress and prosperity

Warnings: 18+ mdni! Smut, angst, fluff and tension! English isn’t my first language<3

Word count: 6.5k+

Taglist: if you want to be tagged in the future chapters, please fill this form with your @/usrname!

A/n: sorry for the delay, BUT I THINK YOU WILL LIKE THIS ONE!!! Comments and reblogs are reallly appreciated🥺💕

-> series masterlist <-

Chapter 5: kissing his heart

A mess.

That’s how you feel, that’s how Aemond is.

Denial.

You deny the existence of your feelings towards Aemond and he denies the truth that you still believe he is in love with Alys. Because he is not, he might think about her from time to time but he isn’t in love with her anymore.

Aemond is up early again — early after a rough night of drinks and thinking nonstop means somewhere around noon — which is still earlier than when the entirety of the household wakes up.

He stretches his legs, groaning as the muscles clench and unclench, his limbs tingling with exhaustion from the lack of sleep. Aemond sits up on his bed, running a hand over his face and thinking about how much he needs to discuss with you later today, or anytime you allow him.

He stands up, grabbing his hair tie before he walks towards his bathroom, pulling his hair up into a man bun as he pushes the door open to get ready for the day. After taking his prosthetic eye out, he cleans the empty socket with gauze and the medicine he’s prescribed, untying his hair and hopping under the shower. 

He stands under the running water fully naked, and the image of your blown-out pupils and swollen lips makes it hard for him to contain himself, but soon, that image is replaced with the memory of your teary face, and how broken you sounded — he wanted to run after you last night, he wanted to explain, shout and tell you he isn’t in love with Alys anymore.

He leans his head back, and the warm water hits his face and drips down his Adam's apple, trickling down his throat on his chest. He feels each droplet of water on his skin, and thinks about his actions; was he leading you on unwillingly? No, he is awfully smitten with you, so bad that when he thinks of your smile the heat spreads from his chest to his cheeks, leaving him all red and blushing.

His pain is fresh, the gaping wound is still bleeding. Being stood up on your wedding day is not something you can forget so easily. He still feels the agony he did on that day, but not that intensely, and certainly not how lovesick he felt about Alys. 

He will always think about her, more so about how she left him than the good memories they made together, but to say he is in love… has he ever felt what real love feels like? Was it how Alys’ responses to his actions made him nervous? How much he felt he needed to prove to her that he was good enough? Was it just that? The fear?

He doubts it Because thinking about you is enough to calm his nerves, and he doesn’t need to worry about whether he is enough or not. All he needs to do is to come clean and reassure and reaffirm his feelings and commitments to you.

Love is a strong word to use when it comes to these early stages of your relationship, but he likes you, a lot.

After the long shower he takes, he wraps the towel around his waist while he dries his hair with another one. He grabs his fresh and clean clothes and drops them on his bed, loosening the towel that sets low on his hip bones so he can put his boxers on, the other towel hanging from one of his shoulders while he puts on his sweatpants.

“Aegon!”

Aemond hears his mother’s screams, rushing out with haste after he puts his eyepatch on in a hurry. When he opens the door he sees his mother pacing around with Cole trying his best to calm her down but it’s all in vain.

“What’s going on?” He hears you say, and when he turns around, he finds you walking out of your room to the highway. Was your room always next to his? How is he just finding this out?

He so shamelessly eyes you; your night shorts cling to your thighs so deliciously, and your top sticks to your chest in a way that has Aemond swallowing harshly before he is forced to avert his eye. But he catches you doing the same, finding you drinking in the sight of his exposed chest and wet droplets that fall from the end of his hair on his abs.

You both look away, clearly flustered and shy from the moment of silent flirting in a room full of people. 

“I can’t find Aegon!” Alicent strokes her neck, her nails scratching the soft skin while she walks frantically around, “I searched the entire house for him! He is nowhere!”

“Daeron might know—“

“Daeron… where is Daeron?” She turns around suddenly, her big brown eyes filled with panic as she looks at Criston and in an instant, he reaches to hold her arms gently.

“We’ll find them, now breathe, please…”

“No, what if Aegon has done something again and now they’re not okay?” 

“Mother,” Aemond nods at Cole before he reaches to grab her elbows, looking into her eyes, “I will find them both, alright? Don’t worry, Cole and I will bring them before you know it.”

“Please go find them, Aemond. Your brothers lack self-control and they make my blood pressure go high—“ 

Aemond chuckles and nods, “Take the girls down, we’ll find them and join you, yeah? Don’t be too hard on yourself, Mum, you’re doing fine.”

“Yes, okay, alright…” she reaches to bring him to her height, pressing a gentle kiss on his forehead before she looks at you and tells you to get ready for the day.

“Yes, Ma’am!” You smile at her, waiting for both Cole and Alicent to go, leaving you and Aemond alone in the hallway.

“I missed your eyepatch,” you say quietly, a small yet awkward smile on your lips as you try to break the tension.

“Temporary,” he says, clearing his throat as he watches your smile falter because of his short answer, and he mentally face palms himself for not doing his best in showing his interest clearly, “I— wait!”

You quickly walk into your room, and he groans in annoyance as you slam the door shut, not allowing him to say even a word. With a loud sigh, he goes into his room as well, grabbing an oversized T-shirt to put on before he leaves and goes to find Aegon and Daeron.

Aemond makes his way to the guest wing, the entire house is covered in empty cups and crumbs of food, and more importantly, he finds Daeron dropped on top of Aegon, both snoring loudly and drooling while they sleep.

“Why am I not surprised?” He asks, pinching the bridge of his nose as he stares down at his brothers, “wake up,” he yells, but they don’t budge, sleeping soundly.

“Aegon, wake the fuck up,” he grabs the closest cup that is filled with water and splashes it on Aegon’s face, causing the older brother to sit up abruptly, gasping as he knocks the youngest off of him. 

“What is your fucking problem?” Daeron asks in a raspy voice, coughing a bit as he realizes how much his throat might be hurting with all the screaming from last night.

“My problem is that Mum has been searching for you fuckfaces since she’s woken up. You better get up and show up for breakfast so she doesn’t freak out any more than she already has.”

“You’re her favorite, tell her—“

“As if,” Aemond scoffs at Daeron as he strides toward his brothers and grabs them by their necks to pull them up, “come on, let’s go. And…it’s not me. Helaena is her favorite.”

“He’s right—urgh, don’t pinch me!” Aegon whines when Aemond pinches behind his ear, “Was she mad?”

“No, just ready to give you one of her most heartwarming smiles,” Aemond pushes them both out of the guest wing, smirking when they both stumble and groan.

“She’s going to murder us in cold blood then,” Daeron fakes a cry, knowing how Alicent gets when she’s nervous — deadly, that’s how she gets, and for some sick and twisted reason, Aegon and Daeron love to toy with that side of her.

“Good morning, ladies!” Aegon announces as they step inside the kitchen, watching how Alicent smiles and cocks her head to the side, eyeing the two Targaryen boys.

“Not sure if it was a good one for you,” Aemond’s head turns in the direction of your sound, finding you leaning on the counter with two cups of coffee in hand, wearing a floral dress Helaena had gifted you when you went on your shopping dates a few weeks ago.

He watches as you hide your eyes from him before walking towards him, giving him a tight-lipped smile and handing him his coffee, slowly meeting his gaze when he reaches to grab the cup handle, his fingers brushing over yours a bit, sending jolts of joy through his body.

“Don’t be mean to my brother!” Helaena says as she jogs into the kitchen, her white hair flowing around her shoulders, but stops abruptly and looks around the room, narrowing her eyes at Aemond, “Did you not have a good sleep?”

“Noooo, princess, this douchebag—“

“Not you, him…” Helaena cuts Aegon off but she smiles at him and lets him pull her closer for a hug, pressing his cheek to hers as they both — and everyone in the room — stare at Aemond.

“What?”

“You look like you’ve broken up with your girlfriend,” she says, her eyes following as you take a step away from Aemond and look down at your feet, clearly flustered.

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” he wants though, he desperately wants to have you as his girlfriend, “and you’re right, I didn’t sleep well because I had a headache.”

“A headache wouldn’t make your eye swollen,” Helaena shrugs and with a kiss on Aegon’s cheek, she approaches you, standing in front of you as she stares at you in a not-so-calming way, “You too… you look like you’ve been… crying yourself to sleep.”

“Can you stop being creepy for a minute and let us drink our coffee in peace?” You ask, glancing at Aemond who looks away immediately after he catches your gaze, looking down at his coffee cup while you try to distract Helaena from the awkwardness and undeniable tension between you and her brother.

“I’m not being creepy!” 

“Then what do you call it?” Daeron asks, resting his chin on the back of his hands as he looks at Hel, “because it’s fucking creepy when you just say these things out of nowhere.”

“It’s called intuition! I’m not trying to scare anyone, I just… I feel it in my bones that something is wrong with these two—“

Suddenly she looks at you, her amethyst eyes wide and blown with the realization. She clears her throat when her eyes fall on Aemond’s flushed cheeks and your slack jaw.

“I’m gonna make myself some tea…” she whispers, giving you a very quick nudge, “we’ll talk later.”

“Yeah, later,” you nod hesitantly, biting the inside of your cheek as you follow her movements, stealing glances at Aemond who is doing the same, making the room’s atmosphere more tense than it already is.

“What’s today’s plan?” Daeron looks around, waiting for someone to answer.

“I say we should head to the storage to bring out more beers—“

“Over my dead body,” and you all turn to Alicent who’s been watching all of these interactions silently, sipping on her hot tea, “today, you two—“ she points at Daeron and Aegon, “will clean the guest wing. I want it spotless.”

“That’s torture! Mum—“

“And Aemond will keep an eye on you.”

“What?” It’s Aemond’s turn to ask, his good eye widens in surprise, “I’m not their babysitter, I have a lot of stuff to take care of.”

“No, not today,” she says, “and you girls… you can do whatever you want, you’ve been good.”

“Awe, thank you so much, Mummy,” Hel blows Alicent a kiss, walking back towards you to loop her arm around yours, “c’mon. Let’s go to my room.”

“Told ya she’s her favorite—ah! For fuck sake can this family stop smacking my head?” Aegon whines again but ultimately melts under the kiss Alicent presses on the crown of his head, “Alright, I’m convinced.”

“Spotless,” she points at Daeron and then Aemond before walking out of the kitchen.

“Where are you two going?” Aegon asks and looks at you and Hel.

“Girl talk, no assholes included,” Helaena pulls you after her, giggling a bit as you pass Aemond and Aegon.

“Girl talk without me? You know my tits are nicer than hers, right?” 

“That’s not gonna work on her, you perv!” Helaena turns around and glares at Aegon, “Only dumb girls around you would give in and show you their tits.”

“They actually try to prove you wrong?” Aemond scoffs, and you snort at his tone, his eye locking with yours when you laugh at what he said, and in return, he gives you a small and heartwarming smile.

“You fucking genius—“ Hel pulls you out of the kitchen, not letting you listen to the rest of the conversation.

“Get inside, shoo shoo, go!” She pushes you slightly inside, “You better talk, babe. Cause I’ll be pulling words out of your mouth like a vacuum.”

“I think I like your brother,” you blurt the words out, slapping your palm on your mouth as soon as you realize what you just said, “shit, ignore that—“

“I knew it!” She squeals, putting her cup of tea down on the closest table she can reach, “see? I wasn't being creepy! I knew something was up, I knew it!”

“Really, Helaena?” You scoff but chuckle at her enthusiasm, “I just told you I think I like your brother and you say you ‘knew it’? What exactly do you know thanks to your so-called intuition?”

“Not much, but I know Aemond is not someone who cries a lot unless he is in horrible pain. Now you tell me what happened last night, please.”

“I fucked up,” you shrug, hands joining to show how stressed and on edge you are, “that’s what I did. I fucked up our friendship, I fucked up this whole thing between us. I just… I messed it up so fucking bad, Hel.”

“Oh, baby, come here,” as soon as she opens her arms, you throw yourself between them and let her lead you to bed, holding you close as you make yourself comfortable on the pillows, “You did not mess up anything. Aemond is a tough person to read, sometimes you can’t get through his walls.”

“But… that’s the thing… I read him, and-and I told him that he still loved Alys—“

“What? When did you say that?” She asks, squeezing your arms, “Details, babe, give me all of it.”

“I was in his workshop, I know I shouldn’t have but I was pretty tipsy! So… he found me there, one thing leads to another… and…”

“And…?” she urges you on, holding her breath in as she waits for you to talk.

“And we kissed—”

“You kissed my brother?” she asks, pushing you out of her arms a bit while looking at you with her huge confused, and awfully bright eyes, “and you told him he loved Alys?”

“Babe, I’m so fucking sorry, I know I overstepped, I should have never ever kissed—”

“Hey, hey, no, come here,” she brings you back in her arms quickly, shushing your sobs as best as she can, “I didn’t mean it like that! You didn’t overstep, babe! It’s just… Aemond isn’t a person who would go around and kiss women left and right! So if he has kissed you…then he is pretty serious about you.”

“I just—don’t wanna be his rebound because he is hurt his fiance left him! I…want more than just being a quick fuck for him.”

“First of all, we ain’t gonna talk about my brother’s sex life,” you snort and she laughs, threading her soft fingers through your hair, “Secondly, I don’t think he believes you are just a hookup to him. He holds grudges quite well, he may forgive but doesn’t forget. So, my point is, he is no longer in love with Alys, and probably holds a deep gut-wrenching hatred for her, but she was also his first love, his… first everything.”

“You’re saying that his feelings are gone?” you ask, your voice smaller than before, “because…what we have is so different from any relationships I’ve ever had! It’s a mutual understanding, a friendship I cherish a lot.”

“I don’t know about his feelings, but I can feel and see that he no longer holds romantic love for her. Alys was the reason Aemond moved out, she persuaded him to become independent stand up on his own feet, and not be like Aegon. But I’m just an observer, I see it from outside, and I can feel it.”

“Your intuition telling you there is nothing to worry about?” you ask her hopefully, wiping the remaining tears off your cheeks before you hold her hand in yours and sit side by side with her.

“Yup, but you two need to have a long talk. Let him say his piece, or else I fear he’ll go crazy,” she squeezes your hand before jumping off the bed, “Turn on the TV, babe. I’m going to go grab some snacks so we can watch a bunch of sad rom-coms and cry.”

Hel walks out of the room, humming to herself as she makes her way to the kitchen. As soon as she steps inside, she finds Aemond leaning on the counter with his face between his hands.

“Hey…”

“Hey, Helaena,” he gives her a small smile, “What are you doing here?”

“Grabbing something to eat and knock some sense in you,” she explains, crossing her arms over her chest, “why do you make things difficult for yourself?”

“Because it’s better to be ready than not even think about the outcome,” he shrugs and gives her a confused look, “what are you even saying?”

“I’m saying that you don’t need to be so hard on yourself! The answer is right in front of you,” she says, pulling out a bag of chips but Aemond’s voice stops her.

“Let’s say… I like someone,” he starts, glancing at Helaena who turns around with a soft expression on her face, “and… fresh out of this mess, I am serious about whatever is going between us.”

“But…?” “But I’m not good at voicing my feelings, and I’m afraid I’ve screwed my chance already,” Aemond sighs, biting his lip in frustration, “I…I want to be with her, but I’m terrified that I can’t show her how much I appreciate her.”

“All she needs is some reassurance that you are no longer in love with Alys,” she walks to him, rubbing his back lovingly. “Talk to her, drive out of here, and take her somewhere beautiful and romantic. Make her feel special because I’m sure she is special to you.”

“Thanks—” “Don’t hurt her, Aemond, and don’t let her hurt you either.”

A day or two passes by, and finally after gathering his courage, he asks if you’d like to go to the nearby beach. Helaena agrees on your behalf immediately, dragging you upstairs to get you ready before the sunset so you can arrive there just on time.

Aemond, in all of his glory with his loose gray dress pants and his olive-colored shirt — first two buttons were undone — looks nothing compared to your beauty when you walk downstairs.

Aemond takes off his sunglasses, swallowing harshly as he takes you in; you’re wearing a white maxi skirt with a blue crop top and Helaena’s heart-shaped sunglasses — which he’s sure Hel forced you to wear. You look ethereal, with sunlight shining on your hair and a shy smile on your face when you notice how he’s staring at you with his jaw on the floor.

“Oh,” he clears his throat when you push the heart-shaped glasses on your head, rocking on the balls of your feet with your hands behind your back, “you look…wow.”

“Thank you,” you say, clearly flustered and smiling, “you don’t look too bad yourself, Little nerd.”

“Thanks, come on, I… I wanna take you somewhere,” he rubs the back of his neck, looking at you a bit hesitant, “Of course if you want to—“

“I agreed to come, Aemond, of course, I would want to. Lead the way please,” you wait for him to take you to his car, but unlike the Chevy Camaro you rode from his house to here, he leads you to a silver BMW 507 that you have never seen before.

“This is gorgeous,” you say in awe as you skim your hand over the hood of his car, “I had no idea you owned such a babe.”

“My uncle bought this for me,” he says, following you as you make your way to the passenger seat, opening the door before he holds your hand and helps you in the car.

“Daemon? Really?”

“Oh no,” he shakes his head, “Uncle Gwayne, Mum’s older brother.”

“I’ve never met him, but this is such a gorgeous gift,” you watch as he rounds the car and gets in the driver’s seat, turning the car on before his hands grip the steering wheel and he backs out of the parking, opening the gates with a remote.

You close your eyes and let the wind blow through your hair, and Aemond glances at you, a ghost of a small on his face while he keeps looking between you and the road.

He sighs, the beach and the wharf coming into his view and he mentally pulls himself together and takes a few deep breaths to collect his thoughts and get ready to talk to you. He parks his car and helps you out of the car with your hand in his.

He doesn’t step back when you stand in front of him, his face inches away from yours while your body is caged between his body and the car. He can feel your chest moving with each breath you take — which is now more than normal and he is near losing his mind.

“Come,” he lets go of your hand and shoves them in his pockets, his hair framing his face and shoulders as he watches you walk side by side with him.

“This is so beautiful, Aemond, thank you,” you give him a reassuring smile as if you notice how stressed he is.

“Nothing is as beautiful as you…” he whispers, watching as you look away from him immediately, pressing your lips together to stop yourself from grinning while he curses himself under his breath, thinking how much of an idiot he is for saying this.

“Yeah…” you fiddle with your fingers, “did you enjoy the party?”

“I did,” he confirms, his eye locking with yours as you reach the beach, walking on the soft sand, “I enjoyed it a lot.”

The way he looks at you is enough to set your heart ablaze. His stare is heated, and he knows for sure you’re aware of what he is thinking about.

The kiss that left both of you breathless.

The kiss that had your hearts beating in sync.

The kiss that left you with teary eyes.

The kiss.

That is all the two of you were able to think about.

“So…” you start, kicking the soft sand with your sandals, “you said you wanna talk about something…”

“Yes, urm…” he takes a deep breath, “I want to explain something, and…and I hope that we can work on…”

“Us,” you finish his sentence, nodding in understanding, “we will work on us.”

“When you said that I love Alys, at first I thought you were being impulsive, that…” he inhales sharply, “that you wanted an out because… because our kiss was a mistake.”

“You think it was a mistake?” You ask suddenly, stopping and grabbing Aemond’s forearm, “What do you mean it was a mistake?”

“No!” he replies, shaking his head as his eyes widen in terror that somehow he messed up again, “No, no, darling, not at all! I meant that… I thought when you said I love Alys was because you realized that our kiss was a mistake and you regretted it! I thought it was the best kiss I’ve ever had…”

With the last part, he takes your hands in his, and brings them up to his lips, and kisses your knuckles a few times, smiling softly at you.

“Really?” “Really,” his flushed cheeks match your flustered expression, “When you said those words… I thought about it a lot, and…and you’re right,” your smile falls but he is faster and pulls you closer, bringing your fists to his chest as he kisses your forehead, “I love her, but not because I think about her romantically. I love her for making me realize what I’ve been missing out. Five years of misery and never have I ever felt such strong emotions toward her that I do for you. I love her in a way that I’m thankful for those experiences she and I went through because all of those moments led me to you.”

“Aemond…” you flatten your hands on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart.

“I think about her because the wound is still fresh because sometimes I’m reminded of the way she made me feel on my wedding day, I think about the moments I thought I was in love but in reality…I just wanted not to be left alone. And now… It’s not like that with you,” he rests his forehead on yours, both of you closing your eyes to let yourselves be consumed in the moment, “I’m not in love with her, there is only one place in my heart and that belongs to you.”

“I’m so sorry, little nerd, I—” “Shh,” one of his hands cups your cheek, and he leans down to brush his nose against yours, “I’m sorry for not showing how much you mean to me, I do better, I promise.”

“Kiss me,” you say, breathless and teary as you crane your neck, your breaths mingling together as you whisper again, “Kiss me, Aemond.”

“With pleasure.”

His lips meet yours in a slow yet passionate kiss, and once again, your taste makes him dizzy with need. This time the desire is stronger, and he can feel your desperation too with how you lick his bottom lip and wrap your arms around his neck to pull him even closer.

You whimper when he bites your lower lip, pushing his tongue inside your mouth as soon as you part your lips and give him access. He sighs into your mouth as he kisses your breath away, angling his head to taste you better and breathe in your scent more.

“Show me,” you break the kiss, pecking his cheek as you whisper in his ear, “I need to feel you, please, show me.”

“Come with me,” he kisses the tip of your nose before he laces his fingers through yours.

“Where are you taking me, sir?” You ask with a sultry voice, “Hopefully not to your car because I would hate to drive back and have your family catch us.”

“Absolutely not, my darling,” he pulls you with him, watching as the sunset’s pink hues fall on your face, creating a soft halo around your face and he suddenly pulls you in for a kiss, surprising you. You kiss him back with a chuckle, smiling against his lips as he keeps pecking your face.

“What was that for?”

“You looked so beautiful, I couldn’t resist,” he says, helping you up on the stairs of the wharf, leading you towards a yacht you’ve never seen before.

“If you think you can woo me with your money, Aemond Targaryen, you are so right!” You look at the huge yacht, finding a captain standing and waiting for you.

“Well then I’ve brought you to the best place,” he shakes the captain’s hand, “We won’t be needing your services today, sir, thank you.”

He helps you on the yacht, joining you quickly so he can show you around but you stop him, pulling him downstairs towards the few doors you spotted earlier.

“We’ll see the rest of the yacht later, take me to the bedroom right now,” you bite your lip when he smirks at you and pulls you towards a door, pushing it open before he enters the room.

“What do you wanna do now?” He asks, keeping his eyes on you as you make your way to the bed, sitting on the edge of it.

“I want you to show me how much I mean to you.”

“And how do you want me to do that?” He asks, resting his hands on the bed next to your thighs, leaning down so his face is only mere inches away from you.

“You can start with getting on your knees,” you push him down with your hands on his shoulders, giggling softly when he raises his not-damaged eyebrow at you, “don’t keep me waiting.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he says, taking his sunglasses off his head and dropping it on the floor, grabbing your ankles to slowly pull off your sandals, kissing his way up under your skirt.

He mouths at the flesh of your thighs; kissing, nibbling, and sucking as he draws an invisible path towards your clothed pussy, his head swimming with lust as he gets to be so close to you, closer he has ever dared to imagine.

He gives a quick kiss to the wet spot on your panties, hooking his fingers in the hem of the fabric before he pulls it down, humming as he exposes your heat to the chill air of the room. Aemond kisses your mound, trailing the soft pecks down to your buzzing clit, and as soon as his lips press against the nerves you arch your back.

The sigh you let out is enough encouragement for him to keep going, and he does — he presses open-mouthed kisses on your cunt, sucking and licking in a way that has your mind melting beneath his touch.

“I need to see you,” you tell him, wiggling a bit to push your skirt down. Aemond, more eager than you, detaches himself from you and pulls your skirt off roughly, grabbing your thighs tightly before he dives in, more starved than before.

He wants to go rough, taking and feasting on you like a dog in heat, but not now. He promises to give you an orgasm that makes you feel fuzzy and warm all over. You will have enough time to make memories later…

He laps lazily at your folds, his nails digging into your hips as he runs the tip of his tongue over the bundle of nerves, picking up his pace.

You fist the sheets with one hand while the other goes to his soft hair, pushing your fingers through the silky silver strands as he fastens his movements, his tongue drawing wordless apologies on your wet pussy lips, poking your entrance from time to time — his pace is dizzying, and you crave more and more of his attention to be on you, to show his care for you.

And who is he to deny such a sweet request?

He brings one of his hands down when you whimper ‘more’ and gives him the go. His thumb rubs slow languid circles on your clit, making you close your thighs around his head, back arching off the bed.

Aemond lets his finger gently caress your dripping hole, pushing the digit in slowly, before he starts thrusting it in and out, curving it a little so he brings you closer and closer to your high. While he adds another finger, he attaches his lips upward, sucking on your nerves quite harshly, leaving you a hot mess as you moan and chant his name while he feasts upon you.

“Fuck, Aemond, more— I need more!”

He smiles against you, his nose buried between your thighs as he starts fucking you harshly with his long and thick fingers, curving them enough to nudge the sweet spot inside you with each thrust.

With each filthy sound that echoes in the room, you gasp and cry out for more, a relief only he can give you, and he will give it to you gladly — he keeps his lips locked to your cunt while his fingers prod and scissor you open for him, making you ready to take him.

“Ae-Aemond! I’m close— so-so close!”

“Mhmm, go on, darling, come on my face, I want it, I need it,” he mumbles against your pussy, keeping his fingers knuckles deep inside you while his other hand comes to rub quick little circles on your clit, “Give it to me, beautiful, do it now.”

And you do; you come with a shuddering gasp and a loud broken moan that makes Aemond nearly lose his sanity and empty his balls in his pants like a virgin teenage boy.

He keeps thrusting his fingers inside you slowly as he crawls on top of you, kissing you a bit with your arousal glistening on his chin, helping you ride your euphoric orgasm.

“Are you alright? Do you need a minute?” He asks, pulling his fingers out gently as he gazes down at you, “We can stop right here.”

“I think I will die if I don’t get to have you now.”

“That’s quite the exaggeration, is it not?” He kisses you, waiting for your breathing to calm down a bit, “Don’t worry, beautiful, I’m no better than you. I will probably die if I don’t get to be inside you in a minute.”

“Then take off these clothes and get on the bed!” You whine, pulling on his clothes and he takes them off without any further hesitation, dropping them on the floor next to your skirt, breathing in sharply when he looks down to see you shedding your top and lying down beneath him stark naked.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he mutters and bends down to kiss you and help you lay upper on the pillows with him making a home between your thighs.

“Have you seen yourself?” You smile at him, reaching between your bodies for his now painfully hard cock, squeezing him a little before stroking him a few times, “I will sue you if you ever wear clothes around me from now on.”

“I could say the same about you,” he leans down, holding himself up by his forearms next to your head, “Clean?”

“Yeah…” you reply shakily, guiding the red tip of his cock to your entrance, holding your breath in as he pushes in slowly. You gasp, hands flying up to his waist, digging your nails in as he stretches you out and sheaths himself inside you.

“Fucking hell—“

“I won’t last long,” he sighs, leaning down to hide his face in your neck, his hips pressed tightly against yours as he lets you both adjust — and give himself a minute to compose himself, or else he would lose himself in your warmth.

“I-I won’t either,” you whine and buck your hips, signaling him to move, “just… please!”

He nods shakily, pulling his hips back a little before thrusting in slowly, testing the waters before he sets his pace, watching how your face morphs into pleasure. 

Aemond fastens his pace, hips snapping against yours eagerly, the sound of skin slapping against each other fills the room while you both groan and moan in ecstasy.

“Fuck,” he groans into your ear, hand reaching to thread his fingers with yours and you compile, turning your head to look at him as he closes his eye and whimpers your name.

“Open your eyes,” you say gently in a tone laced with pleasure, “I wanna watch how you look when you come for me.”

His eye shots open the moment he hears you, both of your bodies shaking as you tighten around him, signing you’re close. He is right behind you, his cock twitching deep inside you as he hits your spot at a fast pace, abandoning his morals as he fucks you harder, letting go of your hand to reach for your face, staring deep into your eyes while you come undone for him.

He takes note of how your lips fall apart, your eyebrows twist in a frown and your body twitches when your orgasm washes over you.

“Come for me, Aemond.” With your words, he pulls out and strokes himself, painting your stomach with his cum, his hand shaking as he groans from deep inside his throat.

“Holy fuck,” he says as he drops next to you on his side, his red cheek and chest on display, body heaving with rapid breaths, “you okay?”

“More than okay,” you turn your head to look at him, scooting closer to him to brush the few strands of hair that have fallen out of his tie off his beautiful face, “factory reset time?”

“Insatiable beast,” he groans and rolls on top of you, biting your earlobe and your squeal only spurring him on, “Give me ten minutes and I can go again.”

“Good, you won’t get much sleep tonight.”

Aemond wakes up by feeling a pair of soft lips on his neck and collarbones, and for the first time in a long time, he wakes with a smile on his face.

“Hmm, morning,” he says, tightening his arms around your back as you keep pressing kisses on his chest, “What are you doing?”

“I’m kissing your heart,” you pout at him, the gleam in your eyes not matching the innocent tone you have.

“What?”

“That was so fucking cheesy, I’m sorry,” you laugh, dropping your head on his shoulders, wrapping your arm around him as he joins you, his chest moving up and down with each laughter.

“Well, I cannot say I didn’t like it,” he shrugs, kissing the crown of your head, “you should be more cheesy.”

“Don’t get your hopes too high, mister,” you cup his cheek, caressing his scarred cheek slowly, “No promises, but I will make your life much harder.”

“I’m looking forward to it—“ his phone rings and suddenly, the invisible bubble of your secret bursts. He sighs and gives you an apologetic smile but you kiss it away and crawl towards the end of the bed to reach and grab his phone, “Who is it?”

“Alicent,” you lay back on his chest when he answers the phone.

“Morning, Mum,” he starts, “Yeah, yeah, don’t worry. We’re fine, please don’t panic, alright? I showed her The Queen in Chains, and we stayed the night here… yes, Mum, we’ll get ready and come back before noon.”

“We should head back home, right?”

“Not now,” he turns off his phone and turns to you, “I wanna stay here more, I don’t think I have looked at you enough.”

“Cheesy,” you poke his chest before kissing the spot, melting in his arms as he caresses your naked back, “What am I going to do with you, sweet talker?”

“Unfortunately, you are stuck with me.”

[femmefatalevibe]

Femme Fatale Guide: Office Essentials Every Woman Should Own

A sturdy, sleek tote that fits your laptop but isn't too bulky (with at least one closable interior pocket)

Laptop, AirPods/earbuds, portable charging system for phone/laptop

Laptop stand (changes the game, tbh)

Protective laptop case/sleeve

A planner and a black pen/another color pen for marking up your notes

Another notebook/pad for random notes or a running to-do list

A pen cup holder

A ziplock of hair-ties

Disposable toothbrush, Listerine strips, and travel-sized container of floss picks

A discreet feminine hygiene pouch or two with at least 2 products in it (you can use the additional pouch for extra underwear to be safe, honestly)

A simple, easy to zip and clean makeup bag

Lip balm

Hand cream

Vaseline/Aquaphor/Homeoplasmine

Mini stick antiperspirant or deodorant wipes

Travel-sized tweezers

Lint roller

Hand sanitizers

Disposable Shout wipes/stain remover stick

Travel-sized container of antibacterial and baby wipes

Band-aids

A pair of nail scissors

A mini nail file

Small sunscreen that doesn't leave a white cast

Travel-sized hair brush

A pigmented lip color (or two)

Compact powder

Portable stick cream blush/brusher

Eyeliner/mini mascara

Eyebrow pencil

A snack pack or two of a protein-rich, plant-based snack (roasted edamame, roasted chickpeas, lupini beans, almonds, or Feel Protein bars are great options because they're portable and keep you full in a pinch without forcing you to reach for something unhealthy/not filling when you need to eat – you can also carry some freeze-dried fruit to pair alongside it if desired)

Pouch for keys, wallet, IDs, etc.

Blue-light glasses (for long days in front of a screen)

[amomentsescape]

Hey, do you have any slasher X reader where the reader loves baking?

Slashers with Reader That Loves Baking

Slashers x Reader (Separate)

Includes: Freddy, Michael, Jason, Thomas, Bubba, Brahms, Norman, Billy, & Stu

A/N: Hmm... I don't think I do. Looks like I need to whip up another fic. Here you go!

Freddy Krueger

Although Freddy doesn't need to eat, he'll try anything you make him!

He's happy that you have a hobby that you enjoy during the day

He's even happier that he gets to taste the results

Whenever you visit him, he makes sure the dream world has a kitchen for you in case you want to make something while you're there

You're more inclined to bake there anyways because Freddy can get you just about any ingredient your heart desires

When you do make items, Freddy switches into his "Kiss the Cook" apron and matching hat

He may not help you with the baking, but he still expects kisses while you work

He'll stand beside you, just observing everything you do

He doesn't ask too many questions either, he just likes seeing you relaxed

Once the treats are ready, he literally stabs a few onto his knifed glove and eats them off of it

There hasn't been a single thing you've made that he hasn't enjoyed

Michael Myers

Michael is pretty neutral with your enjoyment of baking

He tends to his hobbies, you tend to yours

He doesn't feel like there needs to be any crossover of sorts

However, he won't deny you when you ask him to try things

And if you need help accessing the top shelf, he'll help you out

He secretly has a big sweet tooth, and your warm smile influences him to try everything (he'd be dead before he admitted it though)

He has a pretty basic taste in sweets too

He enjoys the majority of the cookies, cakes, and breads you've made

He isn't a big fan of pie or dried fruits though

If you make a batch of anything, he'll try a bite if you ask, but that'll be it

You're always certain he's just trying to be polite

But whenever you wake up in the morning, half the tray is gone

Michael will just shrug it off of course

But it's pretty obvious he enjoys your treats

Jason Voorhees

He absolutely loves that you bake!

To be fair, he'd love literally anything you do that makes you happy, but baking reminds him a lot of his missed childhood

You've made a couple things already that reminded him of stuff his mother used to make, and it almost brought him to tears

He doesn't really get sweet cravings like he did when he was younger, but he will never say no to trying something of yours

He also enjoys decorating some of the treats too

His large hands tend to fumble a bit, and nothing comes out as good as yours, but he's having fun, and that's what matters most to you both

His favorite thing is coming home after a long day to the smell of baked goods and to see you casually mixing ingredients together

You just seem so content, and it gives him a taste of what domestic life is like with you

He'll always come over to greet you with a hug, not caring if you're covered in flour

And once he's gotten cleaned up, he just sits at the table out of the way, watching you

He especially loves when you talk to him while baking

It just makes him all warm inside

Thomas Hewitt

He never really grew up with home baked goods like yours before, so it feels like literal heaven when he smells the sugar in the air

He likes walking up and peering over your shoulder, trying to see what you're doing

He also just likes hanging out with you in case you need help with anything

If your arms ever get tired from mixing or kneading, you know who to ask

If you let him, he'll take little tastes of the batters, predicting how much he's going to like them once they're done

(It's always a 10/10)

If it's sweet, he likes it

There's never been anything you've made that he didn't eat almost all of in one night

He loves if you make enough for the whole family too!

He's a bit hesitant to help decorate, and even more so to help add ingredients

But if you ask, there's no way he'd be willing to say no

Bubba Sawyer

He adores your baking!

He absolutely has no idea what you're doing half the time, but he's happy about it all the same

You've got to be careful with this one though

Because if you even turn around for a second, the batter is gone

Same goes for when the treats are cooling

If you leave the kitchen, they'll be gone within just a couple minutes

You have no idea how he manages to do it

At least he's showing you just how much he loves your bakery?

But besides that, he's a great hand to have in the kitchen

He can mix and mix for days

And he's always there to help hand you whatever you need

Just don't trust him with the powders unless you want a white, dusty kitchen

He's also not the best around the hot oven, having burnt himself a handful of times

It's kind of like having a helpful but clumsy child in the kitchen with you

But he's so sweet you can't bare to tell him to leave

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms never grew up with many sweets in the house

So having his own baker at home is like feeding a starving man

And with Brahms, you can imagine how that goes

Will come to you almost every day with a new treat he is craving

In fact, he even added to the rules list that you needed to make him a bedtime treat or else he refuses to go to sleep

You love baking of course, so it's not a problem, but some of his requests are absurd

A pie covered in chocolate ice cream smooshed with cookies and drizzled with brownie batter might be a bit much for a midnight snack

But you honestly did it to yourself

The moment he tasted your treats, there was no going back

And be careful when the sugar rush hits

He's ready to bounce off the walls with you in tow

Norman Bates

Norman has always been one for domestic hobbies

So the fact that you're a baker makes him feel so cozy and warm

Waking up to fresh muffins with his tea, coming home to a plate of brownies, and even being woken up in the middle of the night to some wild cookie recipe all makes Norman so happy

Jokingly complains that you're fattening him up

He's honestly a pretty good baker himself, although he argues that his skill is nowhere near as good as yours

But there have been a handful of times he prepare his own treat beside you in the kitchen, and it always came out amazing

And because of his experience, he's happy to give a lending hand when you need

If you're making something you know by heart instead, then he's still there beside you, keeping up with the dishes so you don't have to tend to a mess later

Norman enjoys whatever makes you happy, and is eager to learn even more about what you love too!

Billy Loomis

He's pretty chill about it at first

He thinks it's a cute hobby, but doesn't know much about it himself

However, the first time he was actually there with you watching you work and tasting what you made...

He really gained a better perspective on it

He can see the hard work and true enjoyment you put into the hobby, and this makes him appreciate it more

He's not huge on sweets, but seeing you put all of this together for him makes it impossible to deny them

Will be brutally honest if he likes something or not, but there's truly only been a couple times he actually didn't like what you made

Will occasionally sit on the counter beside you and just ask basic questions

"What does this thing do?" "How long does it need to sit there?" "Is there a difference between folding and mixing?"

You always smile at him since his genuine curiosity is cute

Plus, it shows he's trying to learn more about what you do

Will definitely stand behind you and rest his head on your shoulder while you work

Stu Macher

You love to bake? Well, Stu loves to eat

Match made in heaven in his eyes

He honestly is surprised by the amount of effort that it takes to whip up a simple cookie or cupcake

He's not usually on this end of the food process

But he honestly enjoys watching what you do

Will literally just stare and zone out, making you laugh

Loves loves loves when it's time to lick the spoon

He will dab batter onto your nose though

He's a huge fan of helping you decorate too!

Just be careful, because Stu is also a huge fan of squeezing the piping bag directly into his mouth

But surprisingly, Stu has become pretty decent at piping frosting and making your treats look pretty

He always insists on eating the ones you decorate though because they "taste better"

He honestly just loves being able to show praise for the stuff you make him and will always request a fun treat to accompany your weekly movie nights

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Herbs, Spices & Seasoning

Herbs and spices can add flavor and variety to your food.

Use a little at first, then add more when you are sure you like the flavor.

To substitute dry herbs for fresh, use ¼ teaspoon powder or 1 teaspoon crushed for 1 tablespoon fresh chopped herbs. Some herbs and spices are expensive.

You might want to buy only a few of the less expensive herbs and spices you will use.

Herbs and spices lose flavor and can spoil or get buggy if kept in the cupboard longer than a year.

If you use herbs and spices slowly, buy small containers, or store them in the freezer.

Uses of Herbs, Spices & Seasonings

Allspice - A mixture of cinnamon, nutmeg and cloves. Use in fruit desserts, pumpkin pie, apple cider, cakes, cookies, chicken, beef and fish dishes.

Basil - Tomato and egg dishes, stews, soups and salads

Bay leaves - Tomato dishes, fish and meat dishes

Celery seed - Juices, soups, salads, vegetables, pot roasts, poultry, rolls and biscuits

Chili powder - Chili, bean and rice dishes

Chives - Potato dishes, soups, dips and sauces

Cilantro - Latin American, Indian and Chinese dishes, salsa, stir fries, (Coriander leaves) legume or rice salads, hot cooked rice, grilled chicken or fish, or a dish of ripe tomatoes. Use fresh if possible.

Cinnamon - French toast, fruit and fruit salads, sweet potatoes, pumpkin and squash, puddings and apple desserts, ham or pork chops

Cloves - Whole cloves on ham or pork roast; ground cloves to season pear or apple desserts, beets, beans, tomatoes, squash and sweet potatoes

Coriander seed - Middle Eastern dishes, spice cakes and cookies, soups, roast pork and salad dressing

Cumin - Mexican, Middle Eastern and Indian dishes; beef and lamb, dry bean dishes, marinades, chili and tomato sauces; ingredient in curry powder

Dillweed - Tuna or salmon salad, potato salad, pickles, dips and sauces

Garlic - Mexican, Italian and Oriental dishes and in salad dressings; can be used fresh or dried, minced or powder

Ginger (fresh) - Oriental dishes, marinades for chicken or fish, fruit salad, dressings

Ginger (ground) - Gingerbread, spice cake, pumpkin pie, poultry or meat, soups, stews, stuffing, squash, sweet potatoes

Ground peppers: black, Cayenne & white pepper - Meats, casseroles, vegetables and soups

Italian seasoning - A mixture of marjoram, oregano, basil and rosemary; use in Italian dishes such as spaghetti

Marjoram - Egg and cheese dishes, meats, fish, poultry and vegetables

Mint - Fruit salads and fruit soups, melon, berries, cold fruit beverages, cooked carrots or peas, chilled yogurt soup, lamb, tabbouleh

Mustard - Sauces for meat and fish, in marinades, salad dressings, chutneys, pickles and relishes

Nutmeg - Cooked fruits, pies and desserts, baked items, spinach, sweet potatoes, eggnog and French toast

Onion - Any dish where onion flavor is desired; can be used fresh or dried (minced or powder)

Oregano - Italian dishes, chili, omelets, beef stew, meat loaf, pork and vegetables such as broccoli or tomatoes

Parsley - Meat, soup or vegetable dishes; adds color

Paprika - Stew, chicken, fish, potatoes, rice and hard-cooked eggs

Rosemary - Egg dishes, meats, fish, soups and stews, and vegetables

Thyme - Fish, poultry or meats, in soups or stews, vegetable salads

If these writing notes help with your poem/story, do tag me. Or send me a link. I'd love to read them!

More: On Food More: Word Lists

[victoryverse]

SIMON AFTERCARE!!!

Simon Ghost Riley had always been a tough and stoic soldier, but when it came to taking care of his partner YN, he was as gentle as a lamb. After a long and intense day of fighting and completing missions, the two of them finally found some time to themselves. They retreated to their safe house, eager to release the pent-up tension between them.

As soon as they entered the bedroom, they wasted no time in undressing each other. The passion between them was palpable, their bodies craving for each other's touch. And when they finally gave in to their desires, it was an explosion of ecstasy.

After they had both reached their climax, Simon couldn't help but feel a sense of protectiveness towards YN. He carefully pulled out of her and grabbed a towel to clean her up. He gently wiped away his own cum from her body, making sure to be as gentle as possible.

'Are you okay, love?' he asked, concern evident in his voice.

YN smiled and nodded, 'I'm more than okay, Simon. That was amazing.'

Simon chuckled and kissed her forehead, 'I'm glad. But let me take care of you now. You must be tired.'

He brought her a glass of water and some fruits to replenish their energy. As she ate, Simon couldn't help but admire her beauty. He knew he was falling deeper in love with her every passing day.

'Let me take you to the bathroom, I'll run you a bath,' he said, offering her his hand.

YN took it and followed him to the bathroom, feeling grateful for having such a caring and loving partner. Simon ran a warm bath for her and helped her ease into it. He then joined her, unable to resist the temptation of being close to her.

As they soaked in the tub, Simon couldn't help but ask, 'Do you need anything? I can get you whatever you want.'

YN smiled and shook her head, 'I just need you, Simon. That's all I need.'

Tears welled up in Simon's eyes as he kissed her forehead, 'I love you, YN.'

'I love you too, Simon.'

After their bath, they dried off and snuggled under the covers. Simon held YN in his arms, feeling content and at peace. He knew that with her by his side, he could conquer anything.

'I'm so lucky to have you, YN,' he whispered, stroking her hair.

'I'm the lucky one, Simon. You take such good care of me,' she replied, snuggling closer to him.

And as they drifted off to sleep, Simon couldn't help but think about how much he loved her and how he would do anything to keep her safe and happy. For him, taking care of her was not just a duty, it was a privilege.

~ ~ ~

tags: @ilovehobi101

[a-d-nox]

wyrd web: what to gift a person based these three numbers

this is just a theory of mine because these bubbles of the matrix should represent earthly desires. this is not to say that you can't enjoy things not listed in your category / under your energetic number. this is simply what i believe people with these numbers would enjoy receiving as a gift.

2 - the high priestess

things that support their spiritual practices, things that support feminine health (hum women's probiotics bundle, honey pot oral vaginal care probiotic, etc), bake goods / baking gear, barbecue sauce sampler / grilling gear (for the dads pt 2), bar in a jar (for those of drinking age) or really any beverage tester kit, bath/spa kit, beach vacation, boat, cruise, careof for brain support, truly nice melons boob butter, candles (it doesn't have to be yankee candle either - bent candles, spiced votive candle, etc) or candle making kit, imported cheeses, clothing staples (blue jeans, black turtleneck, etc), juice cleanse or other things that support digestive health, cooking classes or meal kits (hellofresh, homechef, etc), a tarot/astrology/mediumship reading, or outdoor cameras or other home security tools

3 - the empress

pillows, stuffed animals, rose quartz, personal celebrity cameo, clothing, tickets for an art museum tour, ballet tickets or classes, art supplies, makeup pallets and/or brushes, flowers, jewelry, candy/sweets, money, bells / wind chimes, clothing, designer pieces, cosmetics, dolls, a trip to a fancy restaurant, fruit basket / dried fruits, gardening supplies, jewelry, concert/orchestra tickets, poetry book, tickets to a play, a purse, lingerie (if y'all are close like that), trip to a vineyard (for those of drinking age), couples' dancing classes, or a wallet

4 - the emperor

skincare, rock climbing voucher or some other physical activity they enjoy, an adrenaline rush activity (skydiving, bungee jumping, etc), careof for brain support, crafted wooden objects (cutting boards, tables, etc), coffee trials/samplers, sunglasses, blue light glasses, hair care products/supplies, scalp treatments/care, oral health care (thera breath, whitening products, etc), meditation app subscriptions / in person sessions for meditation, or a planner

5 - the hierophant

moss agate (don't question how random that sounds this is some intuitive stuff), artwork, an architectural tour, beauty products/supplies, historically significant objects, pastries or sweets/candies, earrings, sour dough starter kit, jewelry in general, piano/organ lessons, singing lessons, a wallet, or any classes where they can learn something fun and new to them

6 - the lovers

car stuff (seat covers, cup holder coasters, etc), bicycle or bicycle accessories/gear, books (the more educational the better), briefcase / work tote, bus tickets for a day trip, gym membership or soulcycle classes, crystals, a standing desk / cute office supplies (for the work girlies both those who work in office and from home), hand & foot message, manicure voucher, newspaper subscription (i am a fan of new york times, washington post, and the new yorker), language classes or rosetta stone subscription, magazines subscription, merchandise from their favorite singer / group / tv show / movie, train trip, or we're not really strangers card packs

7 - the chariot

gardening supplies, hermit crab, baked goods, bath products / beauty products, boat, cruise, car stuff (seat covers, cup holder coasters, etc), truly nice melons boob butter, juice cleanse, gut health thrive market kit, glassware / blown glass, stuff they need / need for their home (security system, chest freezer, etc), hotel or bed & breakfast stay, kitchenware, lake trip, pearls, real estate / land, restaurant voucher / gift card, silver jewelry, shopping gift cards, a trip, or intention journal

8 - strength

amusement park tickets, supplies for their passion projects, ballroom dancing classes, tea sampler, games (video games or board games), movie theater gift card, personal celebrity cameo, flower garden supplies/seeds, stuff for their pet, or a belt

9 - the hermit

pet related gifts (if they have a pet that is), bookshelves (they probably need one), juice cleanse, gut health thrive market kit, a cat, clothing, oral health products (thera breath, whitening products, etc), stationary, emergency preparedness (ready to eat meals, fire blanket, etc), cook books, dining ware (new plates/bowls, cups / glassware, silverware, etc), food subscriptions (home chef, hello fresh, pickle of the month club, bokksu japanese snack box, etc), careof subscription, gloves, herb garden kit, a one way ticket to anywhere, or a hiking trip

10 - wheel of fortune

incense, cleansing herbs, bow and arrow, sapling, land, dried berries, budget book, gym/exercise membership, religious/spiritual/philosophical books, poker set, cloth (if they like sowing), wool (if they like weaving, crocheting, and/or knitting), wool clothing, a coat, trip to a country or place they have never been, oral health products (thera breath, whitening products, etc), etiquette classes/books (this is great for the traveler because they are often interested in learning customs before going on their trip), figs, fruit basket (like edible arrangements), honey sampler / royal jelly, horseback riding lessons, lottery tickets, merchandise from their favorite singer / group/ tv show / movie, shoes, really any game, any subscription they have not tried, things that support their spiritual practices, or book on positive mindset

11 - justice

personal celebrity cameo, tickets to a ballet or to an art gallery, air purifier, portable heating pad, spa voucher, cosmetics, lingerie (if y'all are close), closet organizational items (space saving hangers, linen bins, accessory hanger, etc), pastries and sweets, diamonds (perhaps propose to your lover), a dress, tickets to a fashion show or exhibit, flowers, a luxury chair, jewelry, concert tickets, poetry books, any quartz pieces, chocolates dipped strawberries, hair extensions, logic puzzles, a voucher for an escape room, or a kitchen/baking scale

12 - the hanged man

bar in a jar (if they are of drinking age), a book on angel numbers, a book on natural medical remedies, ballet classes or tickets to see a ballet, bath bombs and other bath goodies (salt, bath table, candles, sugar scrub, bath teas, etc), beach vacation, tea or coffee sampler, butterfly farm kit with caterpillars, disposable camera or a camera they would like (polaroid, filming, etc), scientific kits (geode kit, grow your own crystals, etc), cigars (for the dads in your life), unsolved mysteries or crime kit, dance classes, smutty/romance/fantasy books, fairy garden, a tarot/astrology/mediumship reading, budget book, makeup palettes or other cosmetic they enjoy, concert tickets, paint, poetry books, clue the board game, a pass to an indoor pool, a book on poppet making, meditation membership or a voucher for in-person sessions, or something to support their curiosity for new spiritual insight

13 - death

hermit crab, a jumping spider, a reptile, homeopathic books for natural cures and remedies, operation the game, butcherbox subscription, a book on how to cook and trim meats, beginners chemistry kit, a colon cleanse, sea monkeys, unsolved mysteries or crime kit, philosophy of death books, books on magic, magic the gathering the card game, period products (portable heating pad, the diva cup, etc), poisonous plants (belladonna, foxglove, lily of the valley, etc), a frog pond, a scorpion, a snake, a burr/boo basket (these people love seasonal stuff), or marie kondo's life changing magic of tidying up

14 - temperance

a hunting trip, bow and arrows, books on religion or philosophy, book of devotions, book on dream meanings (hello, freud haha), a certification course or college class, horseback riding lessons (for the newbie or a younger sibling or your child/niece/nephew), horse drawn carriage ride (for the couples *smirk*), logic puzzles, things that support their goals, or a book of angel number meanings

15 - the devil

a fan or air conditioning unit, if you have the land for it a cow/horse/goat, kinetic tape, arnicare bruise cream (this is a joke... unless...), coal or a diamond (this is also a joke... unless...), a clock or a watch, cuticle trimmer (and other nail care things), room darkening curtains, a happy lamp, lotion/cream, hat/scarf/gloves, hair products (extensions, shampoo subscription, etc), leather fashion-ware, gardening supplies, ice maker, or a juice cleanse

16 - the tower

tiger balm or other pain relieving ointment, acrobatic/gymnastic classes, homeopathic books for natural cures and remedies, first-aid kit, baking kits, barbecue sauce sampler, barbecue sauce sampler / grilling gear (for the dads), gift card for haircut, dollar shave club (for the dads pt 2), metal works (spoon handle rings, metal roses, etc), boxing lessons, boxing match tickets or monster truck tickets, butcherbox subscription, a book on how to cook and trim meats, crafted wooden objects (cutting boards, tables, etc), cactus plant, beginners chemistry kit, cookbook, pocket knife or leatherman/multitool, tool kit, jenga, emergency kit, food, first aid kit, merchandise for their favorite superhero(es), electric lighter, liqour or bar in a jar (if they are of drinking age), rock music (a vinyl or concert tickets), pepper plant, pipe for smoking (if they like to smoke that is - my grandfather had a collection), lego kit, or lincoln logs

17 - the star

friendship bracelets, a fan / ac unit, model airplane, flight lessons, compression stockings/socks, architectural tour, astrology reading, car stuff (seat covers, cup holder coasters, etc), club memberships (golf, racket ball, sam's, etc), electronic devices (a new phone, amazon fire stick, solar portable charger, etc), movie on blue-ray or dvd, movie gift card, a camera (polaroid or another type they have been eyeing), disposable cameras, camera gear, shadow work journal, aesthetically pleasing bluetooth retro radio, streaming service subscription, a book on health or mental health, or a book on positivity

18 - the moon

abstract art, bar in a jar (if they are of legal age), a fish, a fish tank, tickets to an aquarium, cocktail book (if they are of legal age), a fishing trip (for the dads), book of conspiracy theories, the conspiracy theory map, a crystal ball, unsolved mysteries or crime kit, a jellyfish, a tarot/astrology/mediumship reading, a camera (polaroid or another type they have been eyeing), disposable cameras, camera gear, poetry book, hydroponic starter system, games that involve bluffing (clue, poker, herd mentality, etc), shoes, sleeping eye mask, silk pillow cases, new bed sheets, bonnet, socks, a computer keyboard, typewriter, a book on shadow work, a puppy, or a book on dream meanings

19 - the sun

maine coon, autobiographical books, ballroom dancing lessons, poker set, oral health products (thera breath, whitening products, etc), card games, personal celebrity cameo, circus fruit basket, chocolate gold coins, classes that encourage creativity (create it and break it sessions, pottery classes, etc), jewelry or an engagement ring (if it's been more than 2 years y'all should know what you are doing at this point), flowers, indoor herb garden, tickets to race of some sort (cars, horse, sporting events, etc), sporting equipment, ivy plant, a pottery painting voucher / gift certificate, or something for their passion project / hobby

20 - judgment

a reptile, ant farm, a guide on astral projection, operation the game, the chameleon game, clue game, unsolved case files game, grand theft auto video game, assassins creed video game, dungeons and dragons the game, yahtzee, emergency preparedness kit, magician kit, poisonous plants (belladonna, foxglove, lily of the valley, etc), the divine comedy, puzzles, a rodent of some sort, or lingerie (if y'all are close)

21 - the world

gardening supplies, acoustic guitar, air conditioning or fan, architectural tour, teddy bear, snow globe, boots, calendar or planner, supergoop (sun protectant) products, wooden objects (cutting board, chest, box, etc), carpet, clay (air drying or via kiln), a clock or watch, compression stockings/socks, collectible coins, pain patches or kinetic tape, crystals, budget book, lotions for dry skin, dried fruits, gloves/mittens, hair care products, ice machine or ice making trays, ice cream subscription, pottery classes, rain coat, real estate or land, zen sand garden, sculpture, or snake

22 - the fool

flight lessons, model airplane, a flight to anywhere, car stuff (seat covers, cup holder coasters, etc), an astrology reading, bath products, biking gear, movie theatre gift card, clock or watch, club memberships (golf, racket ball, sam's, etc), mood lighting or strip lights, a train ride, fun magnets, motorcycle accessories/training, microphone (maybe they are filming or recording something), patterns for cross stitch / knitting / crocheting, a camera (polaroid or another type they have been eyeing), disposable cameras, camera gear, stuff for the tv (surround sound, sound bar, streaming subscription, etc), or classes for one of their interests

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[prying-pandora666]

The Gaang’s Favorite Foods

Aang is an ovo-lacto vegetarian. He still consumes milk and eggs, just nothing that requires killing an animal. Being more used to getting nutrients from a variety of plant foods including nuts and seeds, supported by nutrient rich bison milk and whatever eggs they eat in this world, Aang’s diet is surprisingly diverse and not as restrictive as it first seems. People have and still do eat this way. He loves egg tarts!

Sokka is a growing teen boy, used to a high-fat diet of primarily fish, mollusks, large ruminants, marine mammals (and their blubber), full fat milk, eggs, blood, etc, and only minorly supported by additional foods like seaweed, berries, tubers, perhaps the occasional imported flour or rice. He is going to need a LOT of animal meat and fat. Especially organs. The cookbook says he loves dried salmon collars.

Katara is also a growing teen girl, and considering what starts for girls around her age, she probably also has higher iron requirements. Heme-iron (from meat) is the most easily absorbed, and if it’s what her body is accustomed to, I imagine there’s going to be a lot of cravings there too. It’s possible she slowly converted to a vegetarian diet eventually, but there isn’t actually anything in canon to say that Katara and Aang didn’t just maintain different diets. The comics and cookbook say she likes soups and stews including sea prunes which are actually a type of mollusk.

Toph comes from a wealthy family. Although most of the Earth Kingdom relies primarily on staple grains (rice mainly, but also others), she likely had a decently diverse diet compared to others. Including plenty of meat (beef, chicken, duck, pork), a variety of vegetables, and even luxury items like refined sugar. According to the cookbook, she doesn’t like to eat her vegetables, which implies she had open access to meat for most of her life. She is fond of tea eggs.

Zuko comes from the wealthiest nation which is also in a tropical climate. He’d have access to a plethora of fruits the others had never even heard of! Tropical fruits, berries, coconut, and all the different dishes you can make with them. The nutrient-rich volcanic soil would also lend itself to farming, giving this country plenty of fresh vegetables and staple grains. However, culturally they seem to be a meat and seafood loving people, and spiciness is critical! Being a prince, Zuko would have even more access to all of the above than the common person. According to the cookbook, his favorite snack is sizzle-crisps which is basically fried and seasoned pork belly. He also sneaks Komodo-chicken to his uncle in prison.

BONUS:

Azula, like Zuko, is royalty in a nation blessed with great diversity of fruits, meat, seafood, and fresh veggies. We know she attended a harsh military academy which puts its students through rigorous survival training. Azula knows how to live off the land and likely can survive off of whatever petty things she can forage or catch. But being royalty, she is more accustomed to having whatever she desires prepared for her. She seems to have a bit of a sweet tooth, which can happen when you give a teen unfettered access to luxury goods like sugar. With her nation’s relatively advanced stage of industrialization, certain more processed foods and desserts are available to her. She is fond of cherries and in the comics she is a fiend for mochi!

[alexa-fika]

Guide in the Darkness (Smoker x f!blind!child!reader x Fujitora)

A/N This is for the Anon that asked for toph!reader and I completely butcher the request so bad that I deleted it within the hour. Also sorry for the lack of uploads, got off a plane and have been unpacking since, and I start work tommorow but I will try to still upload daily!

Dividers by @/saradika

The muscular man sighs as he hears another crash coming from his daughter's quarters, opening the door, he glances at a vase smashed on the floor.

“Thought I told you to stop breaking things on purpose,” he grumbles, blowing out the smoke from his cigars in a thick cloud

“This is so stupid! I can’t do anything, Dad! The moment im on a boat, I’m so useless! “She screams, slowly sinking down to the ground and sobbing

A heavy sigh of irritation escapes Smoker's lips as he drops to his knees before his daughter, kneeling to the same level as her. A heavy hand touches her shoulder in a reassuring manner. A warm and kind gesture, but his face remains straight.

“And destroying your furniture will fix that; how?”

“Shut up! Shut up, just shut up!”

Smoker lets out another sigh as his cigar puffs out more smoke, and a heavy eyebrow raises at her harsh tone. His face is stern, but a certain tenderness behind his eyes is revealed when he speaks to his daughter

She pushes his shoulder away, but Smoker just grabs her with his other arm again.

"Is that so?" Smoker responds simply. Silence fell after he spoke those words, neither of them saying anything nor moving from their positions.

“I’m sorry…” she mutters

Another gentle sigh escapes his lips as she does this. His rough exterior fades for a moment as he speaks to her. His eyes no longer piercing through her own, now much more warm and kind.

"It okay,” he grunts

“Come with me; I have someone I want you to meet.”

She dries her tears slowly, standing up

“Who is it?”

"Just follow me." He rises back to his feet, the same look in his eyes once more as he holds out his hand for her to take.

He guides her off the boat, where they walk for a while until they reach an office within some Marine headquarters, closing the door behind them once she is inside.

"My, my, what a young beauty she is, Smoker..." Fujitora said kneeling in front of Reader.

“You must be around ten right now aren’t you”, smiling as a small affirmation leaves the girl.

“Last time, you were but a baby." The blind admiral grins, tapping the end of his cane against the ground.

"I am Issho; many people call me Fujitora; however, you may do so too if you so desire.”

“Umm, hi,” she mutters, hiding behind her father’s legs

“She’s just a little timid” Smoker remarks as he turns to Issho, nodding slowly at him.

A small gesture, as always, placing a hand on her daughter's shoulder.

“Why are we here?” she mumbles

The tall man sighs once again and moves closer to his daughter.

He crouches down to her level again and takes hold of her shoulders with both hands.

"Reader, the man standing there, he is a Marine like me. And he is also blind.”

Reader stills at that and turns around towards Fujitora, using her devil fruit to locate him easily

“You’re also blind?”

Issho smiles widely, putting his cane down on the ground as his eyes shine.

"Yes, I am."

The admiral's smile fades as an eyebrow arches. A small hand finds its way into his and is immediately swallowed into his hand like a grain of sand.

"I don't believe I've ever met a child with a devil fruit, let alone a logia type." He chuckles softly

“Mind telling me what you are capable of?

“I...I use it to sense everything around me,to ‘see,’ but I can only do that when im on land; when I go on the ship with Dad, I become useless.”

Smoker's face softens once more as she explains herself to his coworker

"I am sorry to hear you feel useless when you cannot sense anything. However, I can assure you that you are not. It is simply a limitation that you have, but I believe you can overcome it. Do you want to know a secret?" Fujitora asks her

She nods timidly but remembers that the man before her had the same affliction as her

“Y-Yeah”

"You are more than just a devil fruit. No matter what you may lack, you still have feelings, a will of your own, and loved ones. Those things are the most important part of being human. Never forget that, young one. We should meet up later so I can discuss your training a little more in-depth. I promise you that we will find a way to make you feel more confident in yourself. Just don't give up, and never lose sight of the truly important things. I know it’s scary to be truly blind in an already dark world, but I promise you, you will get through this; I will help you.”

She stares at the man before her for a minute, tears starting to fall from her eyes as she sniffles, nodding her head

“Thank you,” she cries hugging him

Smoker smiles as her daughter embraces Fujitora , finally finding a mentor she can relate to

“Thank you,” he grumbles to Fujitora

Fujitora nods his head, his expression remaining stoic despite the kindness and affection being shown towards him

"No need to thank me. If I can do anything at all to help her overcome these struggles, it is my duty as her mentor, after all. I must prepare her to be the very best marine that she can be, even if that means I have to make some special arrangements for her."

“Mentor?”

“Fujitora is gonna teach you how to use and master Kenbunshoku Haki,” Smoker said, blowing smoke from his cigars once again

“…I have not mastered the use of it; it will help you ‘see’ even without your devil fruit, so you will be able to find your way even when you are not on land,” he finishes, taking another puff

She grins, turning around towards her dad and jumping into his arms

“Thank you, Dad! For always helping me and not giving up.”

Smoker remains silent for a moment, as if surprised by his daughter's sudden affection toward him. He then wraps his arms around her and pulls her in tight. It’s the fondness for her was clear, although his usual reserved and aloof demeanor din’t really allow for much overt affection

"You're welcome. Should we head out? I think you’ll have a busy day tomorrow.”

She nods, turning her head back to Fujitora

“Bye-bye Fujitora! I’ll see you tomorrow!”

Funitora nods, smiling at her genuinely way before saying goodbye

"Farewell, little one, you were a pleasure to meet. Rest assured that you are in the best of hands."

This is much better, sorry y’all it was killing me inside that I made such a bad piece to the point of having to delete it and deleting a request by doing so.

Taglist:

@imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

[fredwkong]

Virgo Season: Shane

Today, Virgo is associated most with the astrological sign. Virgos are rigid, conscientious, prudish, stubborn. It is often forgotten that Virgo is the sign of the harvest, when inedible grass turns to edible wheat in a yearly miracle. This plenty inspired the ancients to name innumerable mother goddesses for the harvest, to remind all people that, with patience and care, even the most stubborn ground can be tilled to bear fruit.

When Virgo rules the heavens, it is a time for things that have been growing to ripen and let loose. This is especially true at the Astra, a hotel and conference centre somewhere in central Florida. The cornerstone houses an ancient, mysterious artifact that resonates with the desires of the hotel’s guests, bringing out the things they have been hiding deep within. It is especially powerful in Virgo season.

At 3:32 AM on August 23, 1 hour and 30 minutes before the Sun entered Virgo, Shane Blanco walked out of the elevator and across the lobby, nodding to the dozing receptionist. He tried to act normal, but every few seconds he smoothed back his short blond hair or dried his hands on his conservative black slacks as he stood waiting by the automatic door, belying his nervousness.

Shane and his father, the famous evangelical pastor Adam Blanco, had arrived at the hotel yesterday afternoon. Pastor Blanco was the guest of honour at a month-long conference for his reactionary evangelical organisation, which was to host a parade of noteworthy men from the far right over the next month, including media personalities, politicians, and other evangelical speakers like Pastor Blanco.

His throat dry, Shane checked his Tinder messages again. Nothing yet. Shane was here… well, Shane was here because all of his brothers and sisters had said “not it” faster. He was meant to be the perfect young Republican, his father’s “success story.” It showed in his fresh blond Ivy League cut, his well-tailored suits, his handsome face, and his white, perfect smile. Shane was going to have an aneurysm.

Even entering his twenties, Shane was still terribly repressed. He’d kissed a boy once, under the bleachers during a school football game, and immediately had a panic attack. This trip was the farthest that he had travelled from his little midwestern hometown, and it wasn’t like Pastor Blanco was keeping close track of what he did. If Shane wanted to get the taste of gay life he was desperately craving, now was the time.

He had matched with Rodrigo while sitting in the back seat of the rented SUV Shane and his father had ridden in to the Astra. He was a Latino hunk, his Tinder pictures showing a tantalising carpet of chest hair on his thick chest. There were pictures of him bearing rainbow flags at pride parades, hanging out with other equally undressed guys of all shapes, sizes, and colours, and one where, just at the bottom of the frame, Shane had seen the top few inches of a pair of leather pants. They had been messaging all night.

Rodrigo was at some other nighttime event in town, but he had begged off early and had texted that he was on his way to the Astra. Shane shifted from foot to loafered foot, trying to pretend he didn’t have cold sweat dripping down his back. What if he got stood up? What if Rodrigo was actually working for his father, waiting to catch Shane in an act of temptation? What if Rodrigo had decided that he actually didn’t want to have a hookup with an inexperienced, repressed white prep?

Just as Shane was about to scurry back upstairs, the front door opened and a man in a long leather jacket stepped inside. Rodrigo looked even bigger in person, and even more out of place, a burly, bearded, tan hunk in big combat boots standing in the opulent foyer of the Astra. Shane hurried to his side, trying to look like something other than a gangling prep.

“Hey man.” Rodrigo took Shane firmly by the wrist and walked deeper into the hotel. “Good to see you again. It was a total bitch to find parking around here.” He sounded so natural, like it was perfectly normal for two people as different as them to meet in a hotel lobby at 4 in the morning. He held Shane tight, forcing him to walk briskly, but not urgently. Shane felt leather at his back, and the smell of cigarettes tickled his nose, emanating from the jacket. Rodrigo took a turn into the richly carpeted hallway leading past the conference hall. “You know where we’re going?” he murmured in Shane’s ear. He had to lean down to get close enough, a sensation which made Shane shudder with lust.

“Y-yes,” Shane breathed. While Pastor Blanco had organised the conference hall to his exacting needs, Shane had scouted the whole first floor, and he’d found a mysterious, unlocked door that opened to a set of stairs. He directed Rodrigo there, and the two men stumbled down the dark steps into the sub-basement of the Astra.

Using his phone flashlight, Rodrigo found a light switch. They were in a disused storage room with unfinished cinderblock walls, some of which had some kind of strange carving on them. Shane assumed that they must have been leftovers from the ornate facade on the Astra’s front. There were sinuous patterns, some twisted together to form some kind of indiscernible script.

Grabbing Shane by the shoulders, Rodrigo spun him around, and Shane found himself pressed against the concrete, surrounded by leather and man. “Can I kiss you, cutie?” Rodrigo asked.

Shane nodded desperately, and Rodrigo surged forward, catching Shane’s mouth.

Shane could barely think about anything but the feeling of Rodrigo’s moustache and beard against his face, and the electric sensation of firm, confident lips on his. Then Rodrigo’s tongue was in his mouth, and Shane could taste his saliva, made a little smokey by the cigarette he must have smoked in the car. Shane could feel his cock straining against his briefs as Rodrigo flattened his body against the wall.

“Hold on.” Suddenly, Rodrigo was gone. Shane opened his eyes to see him efficiently stripping off his leather jacket. Underneath, shockingly, was not a shirt, but a leather harness.

Rodrigo caught Shane’s shocked stare. “Sorry,” he said, looking less than confident for the first time. “The other event I was at was a, uh, kink night at a local club. Didn’t have time to change. I know it’s not a lot of people’s, you know, thing…”

Shane swallowed. Marshalled his thoughts with an effort. “I’m just surprised,” he said. “I think I, uh, like it.”

Rodrigo’s gaze followed Shane’s down to the visible bulge in Shane’s slacks. Rodrigo suddenly grinned. “Wow, you are repressed.”

Shane nodded. “Can I touch it?”

Still grinning, Rodrigo stepped forward, back in range of Shane’s hand.

With shaking fingers, Shane reached out and stroked the supple leather. “God,” he said, “I wish—”

What he was about to say was lost as Rodrigo crowded back against him and kissed him, but he had already said more than enough. A spark arced from the heel of his spare hand, pressed against the wall, into the magical channels carved into the cinderblocks. Shane’s mind suddenly let loose the desires he had repressed for all twenty-two years of his life, half-formed thoughts of leather, rubber, and lycra gear filling his mind as he tugged on the harness’s handle. Newer ideas of hair, dark skin, and the masculine scents of sweat and smoke flowed in too as Rodrigo gently slid Shane’s feet out of his loafers.

The magical artifact responded, and a soft orange glow filled the room, unnoticed by Shane or Rodrigo as Rodrigo’s slick fingers entered Shane’s virgin hole. Shane’s offering, of a mind grown and strengthened by repression suddenly ripened, harvested by sexual experience, unleashed an unexpected magical effect.

Shane lay on his back on Rodrigo’s leather jacket, his polo shirt rucked up under his shoulders as he continued to maintain his grip on Rodrigo’s harness. He moaned as Rodrigo’s fat Latino cock entered him, his own cock rock hard against his belly.

Along with Rodrigo’s dripping cock came some of the power building in the air. Rather than pain or pressure, Shane experienced only blinding pleasure as his hole relaxed, and Rodrigo easily bottomed out. With each thrust, Shane’s skin started to smooth out and darken, first around his hole and across his ass, and then up his belly and down his legs.

When Rodrigo grabbed Shane’s cock, a foreskin suddenly grew from the shaft, and Shane’s eyes rolled back in his head at the sensation of Rodrigo’s firm hand on his newly sensitive cockhead. Shane’s darkening balls tensed, then relaxed lower, growing slightly to match a slightly larger, darker cock. The thatch of sparse blond hair around his cock and balls shrank away, as if shaved with an experienced hand.

Shane’s slight belly dissolved, revealing a toned, but not huge, set of abs, and his pecs became flat and firm, wrapped tight on his toned chest. The blond hair in his armpits vanished like the rest of Shane’s body hair, leaving sparse black stubble. The polo shirt shrank and hardened into a black leather harness.

At the same time, the transformation reached both Shane’s darkening feet and his long, lithe fingers. Only partly aware, Shane watched as his fingers darkened and his feet, up on Rodrigo’s shoulders, flexed just a little larger, with mobile, sensual toes. The nails of both darkened with black nail polish. That was bad, Shane thought, trying to organise his mind through the blinding pleasure of Rodrigo's fucking combined with the magic coursing through his changing body. His… His someone would be upset.

With a thrust that brought Rodrigo’s cock straight home on Shane’s now extra-sensitive prostate, Shane threw back his head and the magic followed. All his thoughts dissolved. His jaw sharpened and his lips filled out as they darkened, matching both the nipples he was using one hand to twist and the cockhead peeking out of Rodrigo’s big, callused hand. His eyes darkened, his brow lowering to give him a hooded, seductive gaze.

Finally, the magic entered Shane’s hair follicles. Beginning from the roots, blond became black, and the strands tore free of the gel Shane had carefully combed in yesterday morning. Tousled curls fell across Shane’s forehead.

Like a flick switched in his mind, Shane suddenly looked up at Rodrigo with a cocky, lustful gaze. “That’s it, you big bear,” he said in a deeper, slightly smokey voice, pulling harder on Rodrigo’s harness to make him gasp. “Fill my slutty boyhole. Take this virgin hole.”

Rodrigo gasped as he was pulled closer to Shane’s torso, the fucking becoming somehow more intense. He suddenly felt close to the edge. “Gonna… cum,” he gasped, trying to pull out. No way this virgin bottom was gonna outlast an experienced guy like him.

Shane pulled harder. “Cum in me,” he growled, dragging a ragged sob from Rodrigo’s throat. “C’mon, I need your load in me.”

At Shane’s command, Rodrigo let go, filling Shane up with his load. He knew he’d put on a condom, but somehow he found himself bare, painting Shane’s insides with cum. At precisely 5:02 AM, as the Sun entered Virgo behind the bulk of the earth, Shane let loose too, painting his lean new torso with a huge, runny load of cum.

Both men made the most powerful offering a living being can make at the exact moment that Virgo entered its greatest power. The power slammed into the magic filling the air, and the unformed wish Shane had inadvertently made was recast into a powerful spell.

I wish… a rush of images and words… cock, leather, sweat, gay, mask, Slut, Rubber, Daddy Latin Fag Stink Gear African Ass Cum MuskSexArabFagJockSlutLeatherAsianCockCockCockCockCOCK.

Shane had ripened, what had been repressed now ready for harvest as he worked his ass to milk Rodrigo’s cock. In a burst of warmth and unseen light, the magic of the Virgo artifact, confined for decades to the small sub-basement room, surged to encompass the Astra hotel.

As Rodrigo pulled out, still gasping, Shane dragged his fingers through the rivulets of cum coating his torso and started to lick it up. He remembered who he had been an hour ago, but that Shane felt like a distant dream. Why bother being so stressed, bound up in what other people thought he should be? The new Shane was a creature of sensuality, totally free to do whatever he desired.

“That was… Were you always…” Rodrigo struggled to articulate himself as he tugged his jeans back on.

“May as well have been.” Shane rolled off Rodrigo’s jacket and grabbed his slacks. The instant he touched them, the cotton flexed and morphed, becoming supple black leather. Shane loved the feeling as his new pants slipped up his hairless legs. “Want to go get breakfast?”

“But your… dad, right?”

Shane didn’t fully understand what had just happened, but the magic was in him, filling him up and reassuring him that his will would be done. “My father’s not a problem,” he said. “I’ll come back to pick him up on September 22. He’ll be fine here.” Shane's fingers were itching. "Lend me a cig. I'll pay you back."

Pastor Blanco and all his far right guests would be more than fine. Shane only had twenty years of repression to fuel his transformation, the youngest of the attendees. Some of the men coming to the hotel, like Pastor Blanco himself, had spent at least fifty years in denial of their basest urges. With the help of the magic permeating the Astra, they would soon be letting it all loose.

This concept was inspired by @octuscle.

Welcome to Virgo Season! Every three days until September 22, 2023, I will tell the story of another of Pastor Blanco's guests at the Astra Hotel being transformed into a slutty gay kinkster.

This series is my way of celebrating my birthday. If you feel inspired, feel free to write a story set in the Astra Hotel this Virgo Season. Post it @ me and I’ll reblog it.

[najia-cooks]

Cranberry chutney

Sweet, tart, jammy cranberries evolve into the subtle aromatics of cumin, mustard, and bay leaf before rounding off into a smooth, even chili heat in this Anglo-Indian-style chutney. It's excellent in place of cranberry sauce on all kinds of roasts, meat pies, flatbreads, sandwiches, and charcuterie boards.

The cooked fruit-and-vinegar chutneys made by English cooks during the British colonization of India were inspired by the fresh and pickled Indian condiments that English traders and soldiers—including those in the East India Company's military arm—had acquired a taste for, but substituted locally familiar produce and cooking methods for Indian ones. "Indian" recipes began appearing in English cookbooks in the mid-18th century, inspiring and fulfilling a desire for the exotic and, effectively, advertising colonial goods. The domestic kitchen thus became a productive site for the creation and negotiation of colonial ideology: the average English housekeeper could feel a sense of ownership over India and its cultural and material products, and a sense of connection to the colonial endeavor desite physical distance.

This sauce, centered around a tart fruit that is simmered with sugar and savory aromatics and spices, is similar in composition to an Anglo-Indian chutney, but some Indian pantry staples that British recipes tend to substitute or remove (such as jaggery, bay leaf, and mustard oil) have been imported back in. The result is a pungent, spicy, deeply sweet, slightly sour topping that's good at cutting through rich, fatty, or starchy foods.

Recipe under the cut!

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Ingredients:

1/2 cup dried cranberries (krainaberee), or 1 cup fresh or frozen

5 curry leaves (kari patta), or 1 Indian bay leaf (tej patta)

1/2 tsp cumin seeds (jeera)

1/2 tsp black mustard seeds (rai)

3 Tbsp jaggery (gur / gud)

1-3 small red chili peppers (kali mirch), to taste

1/2” chunk (5g) ginger (adarakh), peeled

1 clove garlic (lahsun)

1/2 red onion (pyaaj) or 1 shallot

1 Tbsp mustard oil (sarson ke tel)

1/3 cup (80 mL) water

Pinch black salt (kala namak)

Curry leaves can be purchased fresh at a South Asian grocery store. If you can't find any, Indian bay leaves can be used as a substitute (the flavor isn't per se similar, but it would also be appropriate in this dish). Indian bay leaves are distinct from Turkish or California laurel bay leaves and have a different taste and fragrance. They will be labelled “tej patta” in an Asian or halaal grocery store, and have three vertical lines running along them from root to tip, rather than radiating out diagonally from a central vein.

Instructions:

1. Pound onion, garlic, ginger, and chili to a paste in a mortar and pestle; or, use a food processor.

2. In a thick-bottomed pot, heat mustard oil on medium. Add curry leaves or tej patta and fry until fragrant.

3. Add cumin and mustard seed and fry another 30 seconds to a minute, until fragrant and popping.

4. Lower heat to low. Add aromatic paste and fry, stirring constantly, for about 30 seconds, until fragrant.

5. Add cranberries, jaggery, black salt, and water. Raise heat and bring to a boil. Reduce to a simmer and cook uncovered, stirring often, until thick and jammy. Remove from heat a bit before it reaches your desired consistency, since it will continue to thicken as it cools.

Store in a jar in the refrigerator for 2-3 weeks.

[petermorwood]

Steldene Curd Tart

@dduane's "Food and Cooking of the Middle Kingdoms" is a bit light on sweet dishes, so when we encountered a bag of Lithuanian "tvorog" - cheese curds - in the local supermarket, minds turned to a common historical version of cheesecake, and this is the result.

The basic recipe is a Yorkshire curd tart, of which there are plenty. Foods Of England (website parked, check Archive) has just one example, along with numerous other curd-based dishes.

This has the characteristic Steldene tweak of being a bit spicy, hence the crystallised ginger and a touch of ground chilli. In this case it was Habanero powder, added with great caution. A scant half-smidgen was enough for a pleasing tingle; next time (half the bag of curds remains) I'll add a little more to find out what happens.

What is a smidgen? This is... :->

As always, this chilli addition is meant to enhance the taste, not be some daft macho challenge that ends up in the bin, so start small.

Ingredients

225 g ready-made or home-made shortcrust pastry

50 g butter

50 g caster sugar

1 medium egg, beaten

1/2 tsp mixed spice (include a little ground chilli of your preferred hotness, if desired)

grated zest and juice of 1 lemon

225 g curd cheese, or drained full fat cottage cheese

75 g crystallised ginger, chopped

3 Tbsp milk or cream

Method

Preheat oven to 180°C/160°C fan/350°F. Line a 9 inch/18 cm pie dish with baking paper or grease with butter.

Roll out the pastry on a floured board, and then line the prepared pie dish with the pastry.

Beat the butter and sugar together in a large bowl until it is light and fluffy.

Add the beaten egg, mixed spice, and lemon zest and juice, then mix well.

Add the remaining ingredients, and then spoon the filling into the pastry lined pie dish.

Bake in the middle of the preheated oven for 25 to 30 minutes, or until the filling has set and is turning golden brown.

Remove from the oven and allow to cool in the pie dish. Serve cut into slices at room temperature.

Note: even when cool the freshly made pie is crumbly; left overnight it gets firmer but will never be as solid as a cream-cheese cheesecake.

If fresh cheese curds, curd cheese or tvorog (look in shops selling Central European groceries) are hard to find, you can use drained full fat cottage cheese instead.

The original "Yorkshire curd tart" recipe called for standard dried fruit such as sultanas, raisins or currants. Chopped crystallised ginger was our adaptation. You can see the bits here, and the rather crumbly nature of the filling.

Crystallised ginger is more sugary than dried fruit, so watch out during baking: you can see where "just nice" was heading for "too much".

It was, however, still "just nice", and there's a lot less curd tart now than when these photos were taken.

It's very good, quite easy, even easier with store-bought pastry, and we're definitely going to make it again.

[undiscovered-horizon]

Hello, can I request a Morpheus x reader where she's wearing Morpheus’ coat, and he's absolutely amazed and attracted by that? Thank you ☺️

A/N: thought of writing something like this for Corinthian also? Lemme know if you'd like that!🌺

[MASTERLIST] | [Sandman-inspired playlist]

Breathe in.

A scent of lush, exotic fruits and a slight mustiness of old books. The material is heavy and slightly coarse but the lining feels like satin, delicately brushing against your skin. Something rustles in the pockets. For a second, you consider fishing out those strange treasures but the thought is quickly dismissed - it's impolite to snoop. Besides, whatever Morpheus carries in his coat is something he considers he might need at any given moment, so, perhaps, it was best for you to not play with them.

The garment is a little too big for you, so Morpheus takes a moment to roll up the sleeves. He does so silently, in swift motion as though he had done it countless times - like it was something obvious. His aloofness flusters you and you wonder if he thinks that a certain level of charity is expected of him or if he's simply following his heart's desires without letting reason interrupt this quiet confession of affection. One of his hands lingers around yours, threading your fingers together, and only then does he continue the stroll.

Your lungs are full - you breathe out.

Breathes in.

Morpheus keeps looking at you, indulging in some strange urge he has only just discovered. The coat is slightly big on you (Could he drown in you the way you're drowning in this black material?), virtually hiding your physique as though you are a secret he keeps away from the world. He ponders that thought - can he? Can he actually keep you all to himself, a treasure he never shares with anyone like a well of serenity that never dries?

It's as if he's seeing you for the first time but that doesn't make sense, right? Morpheus has already spent countless hours admiring the miraculous whim of the universe that made you reciprocate his infatuation. Perhaps it wasn't as much seeing you as seeing what the two of you might be one day as though giving you his coat granted Morpheus a glimpse into the future - into days where there is no longer 'him' and 'you' but a third entity, an inextricable union or a tide that mixes the ever-changing seas of what each of you is. His heart flutters at the possibilities and could-bees; seeing you, Morpheus is staring into his future and it is filled with gentle touches, quiet giggles and this overpowering sense of safety.

When you take his coat off, a sad parting that has to happen, will your smell linger on the black material and keep him calm whenever he puts the garment on? Or maybe when he leans in to kiss you, he'll smell pomegranate and antique books on your neck? Will he belong to you or will you belong to him? Truthfully, Morpheus doesn't care - either way, you're bound to each other.

His lungs are full - he breathes out.

Between exhales and inhales, those short seconds when creatures tread the line between death and life, most think about their desire for oxygen, a dull pain in their chest reminds them that they are not yet deceased, but lovers so often get things confused and think about each other instead.

[ask-barbatos]

While the purity of Camellia Sinensis is a marvel in itself, the world of tea extends far beyond the simple leaf that is often called a True Tea. Let's talk about flavor-infused tea.

Infused tea

The practice of infusing tea with flavors dates back centuries, with evidence of flavored teas found in ancient Chinese and Indian cultures. Early methods of infusion involved adding herbs, spices, or flowers directly to the tea leaves during steeping. Over time, more sophisticated techniques were developed, such as extracting essential oils from aromatic plants and adding them to the tea.

Today, infused teas are typically created using one of two methods:

Direct Infusion: The most common method involves adding dried herbs, spices, or fruits directly to the tea leaves before steeping. This allows the flavors to infuse naturally into the tea, creating a harmonious blend.

Flavoring Oils: Essential oils extracted from aromatic plants can be added to the tea after steeping. This method allows for precise control over the intensity of the flavor and can be used to create subtle or bold infusions.

One of the most renowned flavor-infused teas is Earl Grey, a black tea infused with the fragrant oil of bergamot orange. The citrusy notes of bergamot dance harmoniously with the rich, full-bodied flavor of black tea, creating a truly exquisite beverage. Earl Grey is a versatile tea that can be enjoyed hot or iced, and it pairs well with a variety of foods.

Aside from Earl Grey, the world of flavor-infused teas is vast and varied. From the delicate floral notes of jasmine tea to the bold fruity flavors of berry teas, there is a flavor combination to suit every palate.

Pictured above: (top) Jasmine infused green tea from Fujian Tea Import & Export Co., (bottom) Blood Orange herbal tea from Harney & Sons Fine Teas. [Blend: Apple pieces, rose hips, hibiscus, beetroot, orange peel, orange flavor, marigold petals, safflower petals.]

Some of the other popular flavor-infused teas include:

Jasmine Tea: A green tea infused with jasmine flowers, offering a delicate floral aroma and a slightly sweet taste.

Chai Tea: A black tea spiced with cardamom, cinnamon, cloves, and ginger, creating a warm and comforting blend.

Fruit Teas: A variety of teas infused with fruit flavors, such as strawberry, raspberry, or peach, providing a sweet and tangy taste.

Fruit teas are excellent for cold-brewed iced tea. I will cover cold-brewing later, so please look forward to that.

When choosing a flavor-infused tea, consider your personal preferences and the occasion. A delicate floral tea might be perfect for a relaxing afternoon, while a bold and spicy chai tea could be a comforting choice on a cold day.

The choice of infusion depends on the desired flavor profile and the characteristics of the ingredients being used. For example, delicate floral flavors may be best achieved using direct infusion, while strong, bold flavors can be created using flavoring oils.

If you wish to create your own infused tea, that will have to be a separate post. For now, it is enough to be able to identify the tea you are brewing so that you can handle it appropriately.

Brewing infused teas requires a balance of technique and intuition. First, identify the ingredients. When brewing a cup of tea, it's good to know what temperature and length of time to steep your tea for.

A tea labeled "Peach" may be a white tea with peach flavoring, and it may be best to brew it at a temperature appropriate for white tea. Blends may consist of varying ingredients that require different temperatures, so some experimentation may be in order to find the best brewing temperature to get the most of each flavor.

Herbal tea

Beyond the True Tea, there lies a world of herbal teas, each offering a unique blend of flavors and health benefits. Herbal teas are made from a variety of plants, including herbs, spices, and fruits. They are often enjoyed for their medicinal properties, as well as their delicious taste.

As no part of an herbal tea contains the Camellia Sinensis plant, these teas are not considered "True Teas". That does not mean we cannot enjoy them, however.

For the most part, an herbal tea will not contain any caffeine, unlike the tea produced from the Camellia Sinensis plant. This makes them more suitable to enjoy in the evening or late hours.

Pictured above: (from top to bottom) Roses, honeysuckle, chrysanthemums, mint and lavender.

Some popular herbal teas include:

Chamomile Tea: Made from chamomile flowers, this tea is known for its calming and relaxing properties.

Peppermint Tea: Made from peppermint leaves, this tea is refreshing and aids digestion.

Ginger Tea: Made from ginger root, this tea is warming and can help soothe an upset stomach.

Hibiscus Tea: Made from hibiscus flowers, this tea has a tart, fruity flavor and is rich in antioxidants.

As with many blends, it is helpful to experiment a little with the temperature and steep time to get the most of your tea. Intuition will follow experience.

The ideal steeping temperature for infused teas and herbal teas can vary depending on the specific ingredients and desired flavor intensity. However, here are some general guidelines:

Delicate floral or fruity teas: 175-185°F (79-85°C)

Bold, spicy teas: 195-212°F (90-100°C)

Herbal teas: 175-212°F (79-100°C), depending on the specific herbs used

Serving suggestions: Cream is usually not served with fruit teas, as the acidity in some will cause the milk to curdle. Lemon slices are commonly served with Earl Grey, however, as with the fruit tea, lemon can also cause cream to curdle. Sugar or honey are appropriate for nearly any tea.

It's always a good idea to experiment with different temperatures to find the perfect brew for your taste. I hope this has been informational and helpful to my students who wish to become better acquainted with tea.

[asumofwords]

Smoke, Fire and Ash

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death, forced marriage, and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on. Blood, grief, stabbing, death, PTSD.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Masterlist

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Note: Hello my babies! Well..... I know a lot of you prayed that the last chapter was a dream... It wasn't. And apologies for that haha. But we aren't finished just yet, we have 5 chapters to go!!!! I hope this satiates your little desires. Enjoy <3

Chapter 105: A Crown Forged in Blood 

“When I’m Queen, we shall fly to Essos and eat as many lemon tarts, star fruit, and pies as we wish.” You had smiled at the older boy, sitting in the Gardens, hidden away from the searching eyes of the Septa.

Aemond grinned, both eyes creasing as you spoke, “When I claim a dragon, we can race there.”

“Syndor would beat you any day.”

The young Prince pouted, “We shall see if that’s true.”

“Yes, we shall.” You had said haughtily, lifting your chin higher as you tried to squeeze the smile from your face.

“When I’m Queen,” You had stood, looking down at him in mock regality, “I shall make you my knight, so that you may always be at my side to bring me lemon tarts.”

Aemond’s button nose scrunched, “Why not make me your King? Then we can make Aegon be our cup bearer.”

You snickered, “You’re right! How did I not think of that? Gods, I've been so blind, Aemy! I would have no other man by my side but you.”

The older boy blushed, looking away shyly. 

You sat down beside him again, nudging his shoulder, “What’s wrong?”

Aemond shook his head, “Nothing.”

“Don't you lie to me. It's a sin to lie. What would the Septa say? What would your Lady mother say?”

The young boy gave you a glare, to which you giggled lightly.

“You mock me.” The Prince whispered.

You frowned, “I don’t mock you, Aemy. Never you.”

“Do you think being wed to me would be a punishment from the Gods?” His voice was so small, so quiet, and your ears had strained to hear it come from his lips. 

But there it was, his ever present self doubt, lack of self worth, and constant state of anxiety. Aegon no doubt being the thorn in Aemond’s side, which continued to grow and press meanly into the wound, festering into the young boys confidence.

“Kepus,” You grabbed his small hand in yours, shaking it about between the two of you, “I think that being wed to you would be the greatest gift the Gods could ever give me. Who else makes me smile but you?”

Petrichor floated over the realm, the soft earthy smell of rain settling atop Kings Landing after the storm had finally passed, making its way further West, where it would eventually run out of its rage, and dissipate into the sky.

Your chambers smelt coppery, irony and thick, from the blood that had begun to coagulate beneath you, beside you, on you. Much like the blood that had begun to coagulate within his own body, that lay still and cold at your side. 

But the smell of rain lingered in the chambers, if only just so, as the sun slowly rose into the sky, the first glow of morning light filling the room.

Your hand continued to brush through his hair, soothing his silken strands whilst your palm cupped his cheek with each movement. Admiring his beauty, committing his image to your memory forever more.

His eye was now closed. For you had brushed it shut with shaking fingertips, and pressed another kiss to his lips. Just as the prophecy had said.

Another eye will close. 

And it had.

The tears on your cheeks had dried, and your sobbing had ceased.

The ache that had once settled deep within your chest had gone cold, and now a subtle numbness spread through your limbs, up your arms, all the way down to your toes. 

Shifting amongst the sheets, you looked down at the man you loved, the chemise against you cold and sticky with his blood, clinging to each and every curve of your body. Your love's blood. 

The man you had killed for. 

The man who had killed for you. 

And the man, you ultimately killed with your own hands.

His face was soft, and he looked at peace. Finally at rest.

No more sneers, or scowls, or frowns. No more anxiety, or worry, or anger.

Just him.

Your Aemond.

Sister, A voice whispered in the low light of the chambers.

Your head moved slowly, sluggishly, as though your body had been frozen in ice, or as though you were moving through thick layers of snow in winter. Winter had finally come for you.

At the side of the bed, stood the young boy who had been taken first. The first loss in the sea of losses. The first life to have been taken in this war. The first person to pierce all who had been close with grief.

His dark brown curls were dry atop his head, cow-like eyes blinking at you gently, long lashes fluttering against his cheeks, and atop his lips was a small and sad smile. His robes were no longer wet as they had been during the night, and his cheeks held the soft rosy blush that they used to.

It’s time, Lucerys spoke again.

You blinked.

Once. 

Twice.

Three times.

It’s time.

With one last glance at Aemond, lips pressed against the cold of his forehead, you slowly stood from the bed. Joints aching and sore, but only just. The chemise stuck to your flesh, and the coldness of your hair that had settled in his blood sent shivers down your spine.

But it was time. 

And you had been waiting for this moment since you first arrived.

Every move you had made had come to this, every piece of the board you had meticulously placed had finally fallen to where it had needed to be. Every hour of suffering, of agony, of isolation, was so that this moment could come to fruition. From the moment you had stepped back into the Red Keep with Aemond, the pieces had been moving.

As you started to walk across the chambers, almost in a dream like state, you turned one last time, in the hopes that you would see his chest rise and fall, the colour come back to his cheeks and the violet of his eye open to look at you. 

Hoping to see him sit up in the bed, sheets tucked around his waist as he looked at you in disappointment, for him to chastise you, mock you, call you to him. To give you a lecture, tell you were a fool, tell you that he forgave you.

To have him hold you, and kiss you, and feel him against your skin. To plan a future together, more children, and convince him, truly convince him to flee with you. To leave Kings Landing and start anew, somewhere far away.

To say, 'See? This is what would have happened. Now we know what we must do. Now you can see I was right. Now we can leave, be together.'

But he didn’t, and he was still, and he would be still forever more. 

The glinting of the blade on the bed caught your eye, and so with fingers dried with his blood, you picked up the Valyrian steel and gold dagger, red on its blade and hilt, splashed against the emerald stone of one dragon. You spun, taking slow steps across the chambers towards you brother.

Lucerys turned his head, looking to the table.

And there it was.

The Conquerors Crown. 

Sitting where it had been placed the night before, in wait for Aemond to rise that morning with the sun and place it atop his head. But the Targaryen man would not rise that morning, nor would he rise ever again to place that crown atop his head, or rise to place a kiss against your lips. 

Nor would he rise to see the suns gentle warmth or feel its rays. Nor would he reach out and grasp it with his long fingers. Nor your hands, not your face, nor your body, or his goblets of wine. Not his tomes that he loved reading, or his quill that he spent countless hours writing with, nor the reins of his dragon he had lost an eye for.

Aemond Targaryen; a son, a brother, an uncle, a nephew, a lover, a husband, a King, was no more, and grasp, or hold, or sneer, or kiss, or smile, or breathe he would not. Never again.

The crown of Aegon the First.

Valyrian steel that had been passed down generations, its sharp edges and points curved to its peaks at the front, and smaller ones at its sides stared up at you. The ruby in the centre, a blood coloured stone, round and perfect sat at its front.

The last one left. 

No more were the others flanking its sides and around the entirety of the crown.

Were they plucked by greedy hands, or lost to falls or breaks? Or did they never truly exist in the first place?

Fingers wrapped around its rim, small smudges of blood smearing atop the steel, you turned it in your palm. It was heavier than you had remembered, the weight of the crown balanced in your hands. 

But the weight of the crown atop your head was barely felt. 

Some say, the weight of the crown can drive men to madness and cruelty, or impassivity in the face of adversity, but was it the true weight of the physical crown, or the weight of what it represented. The weight of the duty that it carried alongside. The weight of the realm at your finger tips.

But to you, the weight was both overwhelming and not there at all, and it was only when Lucerys whispered your name in your ear did you look up, catching your reflection in the mirror of the vanity at the far wall. 

The chambers were filled with an amber glow of the early morning sun, a warm orange that touched all inside, casting shadows atop the furniture and art, illuminating the ruby at the front of the crown. 

And there you stood, bare except the blood stained chemise that clung to your curves and the crown that sat atop your head, smeared in the blood of the King. Silver white locks were clumped with blood on one side, whilst a smear of red appeared across your cheek, where Aemond had held your face in his dying palm. 

But it was your eyes that truly caught your notice. Not the crown, or the blood, or the dagger that was still clutched in a loose hand by your side. It was the violet of your eyes that had seemed to darken, seemed to have dulled, in the way Aemond’s had.

It was as though you were looking at a stranger.

They’re coming, Luc whispered again behind your shoulder, head turning to look at the door.

And there, at the entrance, stood Helaena. Dressed in an apricot gown, hair pulled away from her face in the braid she wore every single day. Never changing, never evolving. She stood and watched.

Waiting. 

Your throat felt dry as your aunt stared at you, her face void of any emotion, ghostly white and silent. Her lavender eyes were locked on you, never once straying to Lucerys or Aemond.

And she stood where you knew you had to go.

She stood where you knew you had no choice but to.

She stood in the room alongside her only niece and deceased nephew, her younger brother still, and bloodied on his bed. The last of Alicent's children to fall. The last of her brothers to meet the same fate as her.

All gone.

All lost.

Taken by the stranger.

Hand on door, you pulled at the handle, slowly sliding it open, the weight of the wood against your stained palm, bare feet pressed into the cold stones of the floor. Your heart thumped steadily in your chest as you stepped out.

You looked down the wing, eyes searching the walls and space before you. The corridor was quiet, no maid nor servant moving through your wing of the Keep as they usually would. 

The knight at your door was gone. 

He knew.

And so you left, leaving your chambers behind you, the corpse of the man you loved, bloodied and cold in your bed. Leaving it behind to do what you knew you needed to do. Like an invisible string pulled and guided you, down the corridors, down the halls, the many stairs and steps, with not a single guard present. 

Not a single knight to be seen. 

Nor Lord.

Nor Lady.

Nor maid.

Empty. 

Too early for the morning rush of the higher Lords, racing to their duties.

Too late for the maids and servants to not be racing about.

But none were seen.

As though the Gods had cleared you safe passage, ensuring you go undetected for as long as inhumanly possible.

They were helping you, you thought, after all you had done.

And so you kept on, toes having gone numb from the cold stones below, and all feeling in your body disappearing; like you were floating. Hovering above the stones, body as light as a feather as you moved. The feeling of being foreign in your own skin, bones not feeling at all like your own, thoughts lost to the cool morning air.

And then suddenly there you were, standing in the large chambers of the Iron Throne alone. 

Empty.

You stared up at the mangled and broken swords, crafted to create a monstrous throne that would and should spark fear into any enemy in its presence. Into any man who dared to defy it.

The embodiment of the Targaryen dynasty. The legacy of fire and blood. A promise of dragons and death.

A silent tear fell from your cheek.

“Your Grace?”

You blinked, brows twitching, the hand holding the blade at your side tightened, hidden amongst the folds of the chemise that was caked with Aemond's blood.

A noise came from behind, a thumping against the stones. 

Clunk.

Clunk.

Clunk.

It seemed to echo in the space around you, jolting your brain with each step as it became louder and louder behind you, coming nearer and nearer. 

Closer and closer until it was right behind you, and a large hand had reached to press itself against the flesh of your shoulder, fingers curling over you gently, a position that could shoot back quickly if needed.

You slowly looked over at the hand that gripped your shoulder, nails were cut neatly back to the cuticle, and a singular gold ring upon its forefinger. 

A bee engraved in its centre. 

You followed the hand up its wrist, to its elbow, then all the way to his face. 

Larys Strong stood behind you with caution in his Strong brown eyes.

Eyebrows knitted in concern. 

Uncertainty.

He took in your appearance, eyes roaming down your bloodied body, chemise clinging to your skin, stiff backed and quiet, crown atop your messed waves of silver white hair.

“Where is the King?” He asked, voice quiet as he looked at you.

You breathed in audibly, throat rasping as you parroted him back, “The King.”

“Where is your knight?” Larys Strong’s voice became sharp, prickled, as he looked about the chambers in search of the man who had known, who had fled, who had most likely had warned others to go with him.

You shook your head, body still facing the throne, hand tightening against the blade as your knuckled creaked. Eyes unblinking as you took a shallow breath.

“I must-“ Larys began, but the words were halted in his throat.

You had spun.

Quicker than you thought you would have. 

Not unsure of what you were truly doing, but following instincts.

The instinct to survive. 

His cane fell to the floor loudly, rolling away from him, as his brows pulled down in agony.

A cough of pain bubbled from his lips, spittle laced with blood dribbling down his chin. His deep brown eyes finally dropped down, your fist pressed against his stomach, the blade of your dagger thrust deep within his gut.

He opened his mouth to cry out, but you jolted the blade upwards, using all the strength you had left, his hands gripping your shoulders painfully as you held onto one of his, keeping him on your blade.

You looked into his eyes and leant forward, whispering beside his ear, “A dragon devours the sheep and wolves whole, Lord Larys. I warned you of this. And I always keep my word.” Your voice came out smoothly, softly, as though a coin had been tossed, and the shock of Aemond’s death had fallen away like a curtain, drifting down to the stone below.

“I- you have-“ He gasped, one hand moving to grasp your wrist, to try and pry the blade from where it was nestled in his flesh, blood spreading outwards on his green and brown robes, the soft dripping of the thick, viscous liquid hitting the stones below.

“The King is dead, Larys." You pulled back to look at him, "And I am the Queen.” You yanked the blade from his gut, stepping back as you watched him stagger backwards and fall to the ground with a thump, his iron foot scraping against the floor loudly.

“You-” He coughed, blood dripping from his lips, and overflowing from his hands where he clutched desperately at his robes, “Y-ou have p-layed the ga-me well.” He praised brokenly, another pathetic cough falling from his lips, a thin string of bloodied saliva dangling from his chin.

“I have not played the game, Larys. I have won it.”

You turned away from him, and slowly made your way up the steps of the Iron Throne, Lord Larys Strong watching weakly from the stone floor where he bled heavily against the grey stones, his crimson spreading across it rapidly.

They would be fed once more.

Blood dripped from the blade with every step you made, a long trailing path following you up to where you finally stood, eye to eye with the monstrosity.

The Iron Throne.

You thought of all the blood that had been shed for this throne.

All the suffering that had been endured.

All the loss.

For, Aegon the Conqueror, who slayed each man and took their swords to create it. To Maegor the Cruel, who was destined to flood the Keep with blood from those who defied him, and the men who built it. To Viserys, your Grandsire, who let blood be spilt in his inaction. In his complacence. Incompetence.

To Aegon.

To Aemond.

And now, you.

And in that very moment, as you stood before something you had desperately craved as a child, which you had thought you would be promised, which was yours by birthright, it caused nothing but hatred and despair.

A throne which had taken so much of you. So much from you.

But when you fight for the Iron Throne, you either win, or you die. 

The Greens had declared war.

And you were still standing.

After all odds, you were still here.

You turned to face the room, looking out at the many large stone pillars, the stained glass windows, the unlit torches, and slowly sat atop the throne, looking down at Larys as he lay on his side, chest rising weakly as he blinked sluggishly up at you.

It was cold, the throne.

The sharp edges beneath your flesh poked at you threateningly, but it did not break the skin, nor tear at you chemise. A reminder of the threat of sitting atop it. Perhaps the true intentions of Aegon the First when he had the throne made. Have a throne that reminded you of the threat that was sitting atop it. A reminder of the enemies, the usurpers and turncloaks alike that would nip at your heels and back when you blinked.

The dangers of even your own self.

And yet even still, you were not cut. As if the Gods had made it so. 

And they had.

You sat and watched quietly as Ser Larys Strong, The Master of Whispers, took his last, dying breath against the stone floors of the Iron Throne chambers. You watched as his head rolled limply against the cold floor, and the hands clutched at his stomach loosened.

You let yourself smile, an angry smile, and rage filled smile, small on your lips as you looked at the corpse below you. A man who had done so much damage, who had taunted and teased you, mocked and provoked.

A man who had whispered in Alicent's other ear, whilst Otto purred in the other, pushing her to choices which started the pieces that would fall. That would start the pieces of all her children dying.

To her being alone.

The blood beneath him pooled thickly, reflecting the ceiling of the chambers like a puddle.

They were coming. 

And you would wait. 

Dagger in hand, crown atop your head, seated upon the Iron Throne, you would wait. 

And so you did, for a time, until the familiar screech of a dragons flew over the Red Keep, and the deep rumble of another crossed closely by. Shadows sweeping across windows, distant screams, men running, and the sound of dragon fire. 

But you could not pull your eyes away from the doors as you waited, not as you saw men run past the Iron Throne chambers, nor when you heard rumblings from Flea Bottom. 

You were to wait. 

And wait you did. 

As though you had gone into a dreamlike state, a meditative state, no worries, nor cares, nor thoughts within your head. No feeling but the cold numbness that creeped through your pores and crawled through your bones.

Time moved differently.

And the noises became louder.

Until there, at the far end of the room, stood a pair of silver hair and violet eyes. 

One much larger than the other, taller and broader, the other smaller and dainty, a golden crown atop her head. Their eyes were open in shock, in relief, in fear, heads snapping from Larys and then to you.

Daemon and Rhaenyra had returned to the Red Keep.

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[jointhepartypod]

Welcome to the World of Verda Stello! 🌱 🏴☠️

Campaign 3 of Join the Party is set in the world of Verda Stello, the great green ringed world. This fantastical land is filled with approximately human-sized plant and bug people (give or take some 2 foot tall fruits and giant vines) called the Greenfolk. The main source of life for Verda Stello is the Cascade, a massive waterfall that pours over the whole inner ring of the world.

Over time, the Cascade dried up, leaving all the Greenfolk scrambling for water. But the waterfall revealed the entire center of Verda Stello was a great salt sea, dotted with countless unknown islands, and a prophecy about an Infinite Lake that can save the world and a Salmon that grants your deepest desire.

This kicked off the Tide, a pirate era that has raged for 50 years. People are still searching for the lake and the salmon, and the Tide shows no sign of stopping now.

Find out more about Verda Stello and Campaign 3 here!

The Hothouse

Country’s Motto: Why Suffer When We Can Strive

Known for their ingenuity and extensive construction, the Hothouse is the technological hub of Verda Stello. Hothousers believe that finding the best way to do something is its own greatest reward (except for letting everyone know that you did it with a plaque or statue or signature). You might recognize Hothouse architecture with the incorporations of big windows or a solarium, amplifying the sun to do extra work for you. The ruler of the Hothouse is The Builder, someone who is recognized as the best and the smartest through a series of public and brutal competitions of mind and might.

The official Hothouse Flag was designed by the first Builder, Appleton the Original. The triangle represents the hothouse, as you might have guessed, but the doubled triangle is a symbol of so many values that Hothousers hold dear.  Appleton was known for his patience and care when erecting and planning the major monuments of the Hothouse capital, so scholars and politicians say the doubled triangle meant, “measure twice, cut once.” But it can be interpreted as broadly as “quality over quantity” or “do it right the first time,” as double-paneling the triangle is stronger than many triangles in a line. What is most intriguing is the intersection of the symbolic hothouse and the sun itself, putting them in concert, or at least as two parts of the whole. The construct is not subservient to the sun. In fact, they are relatively the same, as a sibling or partner encouraging the other to be better than they could have been alone.

Open Fields

Country’s Motto: Reap What Is Sown

The people of Open Fields feel the deep connection between themselves and the ground, giving themselves strong perseverance and belief. This allows them to stare at the strangeness of existence in the face, such as how they can harvest produce and greens for sustenance even if it looks exactly like them. Open Field families show this devotion by naming themselves after virtues (in a Puritan sort of way) and both fervently praying and farming.

Unfortunately, there is no definitive account of how the Open Fields’ flag came to be. Many leaders have invoked various legends and parables, usually involving a poor potato farmer, resistance of temptation, and then divine inspiration. One version of the story says the pattern appeared in a bowl of mashed potatoes, when the butter and the mash was swirled together in the bowl. Another version supposes the farmer tried to harvest one of his crop but could not, and only through the collective strength of the entire farmer’s family and friends did they put the largest tuber ever recorded, with the design outlined in the eyes of the potato. The only record of the creation and adoption of the current design comes from the journal of a monk known as Saying-Thank-You-Meaningfully-For-an-Unexpected-Gift-No-Matter-What-It-Is. It seems that Saying’s closest friend at the monastery made woodcuts as a hobby, and created the sun-on-top, shovel-on-bottom image. That night, Saying wrote in their journal, “Saw an interesting image today. Must be the divine.” The colors–especially the deep red, unique in the flags of Verda Stello–and how it became the symbol of the entire country, remains unknown.

Kingdom of the Crags

Country’s Motto: We Cover All

The Crags is the most Game of Thrones out of all of the countries. They find strength in dealing with adversity and sacrificing comfort for something greater. They explore their land, find the great thing that it does, and work with it (whether obsidian from lava or a fruit that gives you the strength of 10 in a mountain or a glowing mushroom in a crevasse). Over time, many families have formed into houses and territories, which has then led to a revolving door of kings and queens as the houses vie for power. As the Craggish saying goes, “Everyone has their purpose, and the royals are dying.”

The modern version of the Crags flag (say that five times fast) was established over six hundred years ago, at the signing of the Brevi Pax. Short for “brevi pax pugnantibus,” or “short peace between combatants” in middle Folkish, it was supposed to be a document that finally codified the system of governance in the Crags and illustrated all rights for Craggish citizens regardless of ruler. At the time of its signing, it was just Pax Pugnantibus, but the Brevi was added after Queen Opaline V was slain by her three sisters only ten days after the document was signed.

Although the peace did not remain, the rights of citizens stayed, as well as a specific agreed-upon design for the Craggish flag, The purple emphasizes the strength of the ruling families, while the white V and the black background stands in for the hard landscape where the people make their homes. There’s an interesting optical trick too; the sprout is in the dead center, but the crag makes it seem lower; what appears worse to others is exactly where the Crags knows is best.

Many of the sigils of the houses in the Crags use inversions or additions of this flag to bolster their claims for royal legitimacy, but they do not risk changing too much as would alienate themselves from the existence of the state. They are not above the kingdom and the Rocky Seat, as there would be nothing to rule.

Overstalk

Country’s Motto: Carry Your Roots

The future lives in Overstalk, but it might linger as more of a dream than actually getting it done. Overstalk is the home of the philosophers, a quixotic solarpunkish country. This led to a vibrant merchant culture, so you buy what you need since we’re philosophizing over here. The beating heart of Overstalk is the Stacked City of Skyreach (think the Hanging Gardens of Babylon, but a whole city), where radical but sometimes dangerous ideas flourish and fester.

The historians of Overstalk delight in explaining the symbology of their flag to others, as the metaphor of each color and symbol were, if you will pardon the pun, dyed right into it when the Fourth Congress of the Representatives commissioned local textile artist Cablin Pogostemon to create it. On the left side, the yellow represents the warmth and energy of the sun (but modern philosophers would argue that the top band is ascribed to the mercantile success of the region). The cream is the color of a yellowing page of a book, representing study, while the gray is the smoke of incense, representing spiritualism. As the cream and the gray interest each other and the yellow, you cannot forget the mind for the spirit or vice versa, and they are both integral to day-to-day living (or for modern interpretation, business dealings). The right side is the vertical expansion of Overstalk, as high as the stars themselves. 

This is the only flag in Verda Stello to use green, which some suppose signifies Overstalk’s high view of themselves as compared to the other countries.

Maybe Cablin knew this when they designed the flag, as it came with explicit instructions to never be hung up-and-down, with the stars at the top. It is considered a deep political insult to hang the flag in this way… but it has been accidentally turned during some particularly prickly international visits.