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becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys · 10 months

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Hi! Big fan :) You're an environmental lecturer, right? I recently got into a debate with someone about rewilding in the UK, and the clash with farmers and agriculture. To me, this is a no-brainer - I absolutely do feel for farmers losing their livelihoods, and I think there needs to be a system to help them transition to something else, but also, the planet is dying. But you explain things well, so I wondered if you have thoughts? Particularly on the Welsh side of things. Thank you in advance!

Hah. I literally have a lecture on this. Or, well, a chunk of a lecture, anyway; so yes! I have thoughts. I'll use those notes, and stick a big reference at the end in case you want to read more

I'll talk about this specifically from the Welsh perspective, okay so:

The rewilding project in Wales is the Cambrian Wildwood, launched in 2004ish by a guy who bought an abandoned farm in the northern end of Mid Wales with the express intention of rewilding it. The aim is to convert some 7000 acres, and the initial mission statement said they'd reintroduce wolves and lynx. That's the project I'm going to talk about, because it's a great case study for how to spectacularly fuck something up (and eventually realise you've spectacularly fucked up, and do something about it.)

These are the Cambrian Mountains:

When looking at that, there are two competing viewpoints that are relevant here:

The Cambrians are ecologically depleted. Their biodiversity has crashed since the Second World War, when modern farming methods were introduced. Environmentally, there is a perception of emptiness and degradation.

The landscape is a glorious one that has been shaped by the human actions taken on it for generations, as we are a shepherding culture – culture and land are inextricably intertwined.

That's a big fundamental difference! Two people can look at that same photo, and see something diametrically opposed. But there's more lying on it, so you also need to understand the socio-political background.

Socio-Political Background

(I know! Headings! So professional)

A lot of rewilding – Cambrian Wildwood included – is taking place in areas where farming is declining for various political/socio-economic reasons, so this can be ENTIRELY FAIRLY seen as yet another threat. This goes hand in hand with rural migration and community decline, too.

In Wales, we’re mostly rural, and characterised by extensive upland livestock farming (sheep in particular). Most farms are small to medium family-run setups. ON TOP OF THAT, the vast majority of Welsh farmers are Welsh-speaking, and the right to operate a farm the ‘traditional’ way without UK government oversight is seen by Welsh Nationalists as an important post-colonial act.

Many of them didn’t even like the National Parks being set up, as they were seen as an English outsider imposition that ignored the working nature and cultural history of the land. Remember: the farmed uplands are often seen as a heartland of Welsh identity, and those have historically been intentionally destroyed by UK central government land management decisions (e.g. Tryweryn, Elan, Claerwen, etc)

“Over the past half century we have witnessed the arrival of countless environmental fundamentalists… seemingly oblivious to the fact that their new-found paradise is already occupied by people whose connection with the land is deep rooted, dates back thousands of years, and is embedded in their language and culture.” (Nick Fenwick [Farmers’ Union of Wales] 2013)

SO IT’S CULTURALLY DICEY

(And in my opinion an incredibly stupid idea to go and give it a primarily English name with a Welsh translation as an afterthought but that is Elanor’s Opinion and not Scientific Fact)

(But fr fr if you ever have to get involved in these sorts of projects you will go a long way if you have the basic respect of learning the Welsh names and pronouncing them right rather than lazily expecting everything to be in English sorry sorry I digress)

From the Cambrian Wildwood’s Mission Statement on their website, their objective is:

“To rewild or restore land to a wilder state to create a functioning ecosystem where natural processes dominate by carrying out habitat restoration, removing domestic livestock, and introducing missing native species as far as feasible.”

Can you see the controversial bit of the statement

Can you see the bit where they directly say they want to remove domestic livestock

Jesus Christ

Cultural Differences

AND THEN HERE'S THE BIGGER PROBLEM

‘Culture’ in Welsh is diwylliant – literally, a ‘lack of wildness’. There is no direct translation into Welsh for the term ‘rewilding’ – the closest you can get is anialwch or diffeithwch, which mean ‘wilderness’ in the sense of ‘desert’ or ‘wasteland’. So right off the bat, if you tell a Welsh-speaking farmer that you want to rewild the place, what they hear is "We want to make it dangerous and empty and degraded."

A related concept is cynefin - knowing one’s ‘patch’ and the feeling of belonging associated. The term has its roots as a description of the way grazing animals know their area of mountain land, but it is also used to describe how people come to form an intimate experiential knowledge of place - and specifically, a Welsh farmer's cultural attitude.

Basically, Welsh literature and oral traditions speak of a relationship with the land, not a separation and longing for an untouched wilderness. Farmers feel this especially keenly. Culturally, this is a big part of why they do it – they’re rooted to the land, and therefore to their identities.

“Interviewees conveyed this by referring to areas proposed for rewilding as being comprised of “a quilt of cynefinoedd: interwoven stories, the layered and collective place-making of families and individuals over-generations, co-constituted with the physical landscape” (Wynne-Jones, Holmes and Strouts, 2018)

So, to them, rewilding is erasing and disregarding these stories. To them, this is not just a land-use change, but the latest colonial attack. They've known the family who lived on that farm for generations - every birth, marriage, death, joy, triumph, loss, everything. You are saying that you are going to strip that family, all those stories, all those people out of that land, to be forgotten.

…

However. There is a counterpoint to this.

Many farmers taking this view have therefore identified themselves as the only “truly Welsh” people in the debate, accusing environmentalists as being outsiders. The problem with this being, most of the environmentalists involved with the project are also Welsh; so who the fuck are they to say who is or is not Truly Welsh? It's what we on the internet would recognise as gatekeeping, with a big side order of No True Scotsman fallacy.

Also this quote sums it up well:

“Sheep farming in this country goes back a few hundred years. I think if you go deep enough into our culture and ancestry, we have a really deep native relationship with wild forest areas and with the wild animals that are native to this country…I just don’t agree that sheep farming is really part of our traditional culture.” (WWLF Interview [15] 2016) (Wynne-Jones, Holmes and Strouts, 2018)

This is also a fair point. It is true that upland sheep farming, the way we now practice it, is only a few hundred years old, and at the current intensity only a few decades (since WW2).

On top of which, there has been plenty of exploration over the years of farmers as being a government-subsidised landed gentry, which I won't go into here, but it also contains some fair points.

In truth, all of it and none of it is true. It’s far more complex and nuanced than either side might want to believe.

Solutions So Far

This is an ongoing project and they're still learning and changing new things and stuff, but a big thing they did was get someone in to basically be a mediator and listen to both sides, because Jesus, those sides were not listening to each other.

But to date:

They actually worked with a first-language Welsh speaker (WHY DID THEY NOT DO THIS FIRST I'm sorry I'm fine). Originally the Welsh translation of the project was Tir Gwyllt – wild land. But given that Welsh connotations with gwyllt are something out of control or dangerous, Coetir Anian has been chosen – anian refers to a sense of natural order and creation, a sense of health and vitality. Similarly, ‘rewilding’ is being translated as ‘di-ddofi’ – ‘de-taming’. This acknowledges the labour and culture taken to tame it, and just suggests an avenue for discussing some relaxation of farming practice in appropriate locations rather than, you know, releasing packs of wolves directly into sheep pens

In online materials and in community engagement events where traditional storytellers and musicians have performed to celebrate the Wildwood, the trustees have drawn heavily from Welsh myth in the form of the Mabinogion. Enormous amounts of the Mab lovingly and respectfully feature wild woods and wild animals. The emphasis is therefore on how wilderness is also part of Welsh identity – and arguably a much older part, going back to the Celts. (This is clever, in my view, but something to approach with care - it's rarely a good idea to play the game of "What's the most Welsh". But so far it's been done sensitively)

Land purchased for the project has so far been wholly limited to that available in the public domain. The main site, Bwlch Corog, was empty and unfarmed for six years before purchase, which has been stressed in all media interviews and releases; this is important, because farmers do have a sense of "Productive land is being stolen by environmentalists".

Large predator reintroductions have largely been abandoned. Lynx and wolves are no longer on the agenda. It’s possible they’ll be included in the future, but it is acknowledged as currently impractical (both from clashes with farmers and lack of habitat).

Instead, they’ve supported smaller species reintroductions, such as the Vincent Wildlife Trust’s pine marten translocations, and some proposed red squirrel ones.

Bwlch Corog is to be managed as an experimental plot that farmers are encouraged to engage with.

Assessing the potential for new income streams (from improved tourism and educational activities) rather than just the ecological benefits – this has become central to the project, and the emphasis is on how this might benefit farming communities and keep them together. This has been huge, and has also been successful in rewilding schemes in Europe.

Tensions are a lot lower now than they were ten years ago, but ultimately the problem was a bunch of outsiders came in and decided they knew best without listening to anyone else's point of view, and that meant both sides really dug their heels in. Much better now.

Ultimately... yes, I am in favour of rewilding, in a general sense. But I think it needs to go hand in hand with supplying farmers with the necessary subsidies to transition back to more traditional and sustainable farming methods, and the two elements run side by side. You can't do one without the other, not if you want them to succeed. The Pontbren Project is a great case study for how a farmer-led scheme can successfully aid them economically while also improving environmental outcomes, and we need to learn and incorporate more lessons from it when discussing this kind of landscape-level management.

Also, with land management in general, I think you're a fucking idiot and dangerously arrogant if you think you can get anything done without all stakeholders being on board. And potentially wandering down the ecofascism path, circumstances dependent.

Anyway, those are my thoughts. Source:

Wynne-Jones, S, Holmes, G & Strouts, G (2018), 'Abandoning or Reimagining a Cultural Heartland? Understanding and Responding to Rewilding Conflicts in Wales - the case of the Cambrian Wildwood.' Environmental Values, vol. 27, no. 4.

#asks #environment!#long post

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mermaidgirl30 · 2 months

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✨Enchant Me Chapter 1: I Was Enchanted to Meet You✨

Series Masterlist

A/N: I want to thank that purple house for giving me this whole idea in the first place, but reader and Joel are so soft in this series I’m crying 🥹 Thank you to @mountainsandmayhem for listen to me babble my ideas and rant about how cute these two are in this series! We don’t have enough witchy, nature reader Joel fics, so thought I should make one ☺️✨🌙 Comments and reblogs are always appreciated, I always love hearing your feedback! 💜

Summary: Joel delivers a custom built table to a little house out in the middle of the woods, but he doesn’t realize he’s going to fall for the girl behind the doors of that small purple house. He falls head over heels for her special herbal tea, tarot card readings, and talks of nature and plants as he keeps going back to see her.

Pairing: Joel x fem! reader (Fic is in both reader and Joel’s POV)

Word Count: 7.7k

Rating: Explicit (18+ Only MDNI)

Tags: Soft Joel, lots of fluff, Joel falling in love, witchy reader, eventual smut in later chapters, plant and animal lover reader, lots of cute nicknames for reader

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

“My thoughts will echo your name, until I see you again. These are the words I held back, as I was leaving too soon. I was enchanted to meet you. Please don't be in love with someone else. Please don't have somebody waiting on you. Please don't be in love with someone else. Please don't have somebody waiting on you.”

- Taylor Swift “Enchanted”

The spring breeze of April rustles through Austin as green leaves blow gently down the street, light streaks of sunlight glistening in the open shop as Joel finishes the final touches on a lilac handmade wooden side table. Tiny, intricate white flowers he’d hand painted cover the lilac material. Joel had no idea who he was making it for, he only saw the order request in the computer on his list of custom orders. Tommy must’ve talked to that particular customer when Joel was in the back crafting something.

As Joel finishes the final touches on polishing the little table, he yells for Tommy to come over. “Hey, Tommy. Who’s this order for? I just got finished, guess I can go ahead and deliver it today since we aren’t too busy,” he says as he stands up with a huff, placing a hand on his lower back as he gets up from the rough ground.

“Ahh, that one is for this sweet girl that came in a couple weeks ago. Kinda shy, quiet, but sweet as pie. Pretty thing, too. She sure talked a lot about nature,” Tommy laughs as he grabs the thick white notebook and gets your contact information out, handing Joel the address and name of the customer who had bought it.

Joel looks at it carefully as his eyes scan the address. “She lives out in the middle of nowhere,” Joel says as his eyebrows knit together.

“Yeah, all the way in Cedar Lake. Not too far, but that’s definitely not in the city. It’s only twenty minutes from here though. So, you want me to take it? I don’t mind,” Tommy replies as he leans to grab the notebook. Joel brings it out of his reach and clutches it to his chest.

“Nah, I’m the one that made it so I’ll be the one delivering it.”

“Suit yourself,” Tommy scoffs as he holds his hands up. “Tell her I said hello, will ya?”

��Sure,” Joel says as he grabs the paper with your name and address on it and shoves it down in the denim pocket of his dark jeans. He rolls his blue flannel sleeves up to his elbows and exposes tanned skin as he grabs up the table and loads it in the back of his white Chevy truck.

Once he’s inside and has the engine revved up, he pulls away from Miller’s Woodshop Creations and heads down the street, toward the direction of a long, gravel road that will take him to your place.

Cedar and oak trees fill the last half of the drive while deer scurry off from grazing in the grass as soon as they see Joel’s truck. The houses get thinner in this area, only one or two spread out with acres of land behind them. Joel keeps driving through the thick of the green, eyes trained on the narrow road ahead of him.

“Now who lives all the way out here?” Joel asks himself as his GPS stops him right as he pulls up to a single house that’s surrounded entirely by the woods.

He puts his truck into park and turns off the engine, grabbing his keys and shoving them in his pocket. Just as he steps outside into the grass, a wild rabbit runs off into the opposite direction of him and a black raven caws and flies off into a tall cedar tree.

Whoever lives here must like animals a lot.

Joel carefully retrieves the furniture from the bed of his truck and grunts his way to the front door, making his way up the few wooden steps that lead him to the front door. When he sets the side table on the wooden porch, he takes in the outside of the house.

The house is painted a deep purple color with yellow wooden rails outlining the edge of the porch. All types of different floral plants of names he doesn’t know lines each side of the cobbled stone path that leads to the front of the house. Colorful stained glass windows are sprawled on the top windows as the bottom windows sit wide open for the warm breeze to seep into. It’s unique, a house like he’s never quite seen before. Now he needs to know who lives way out here in the middle of nowhere in a little purple house that’s stacked with plants.

He knocks on the sturdy purple door three times and stands back while he shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans, fidgeting with his fingers as he patiently waits. Before long, he hears the creak of the door opening and looks up to say his greeting.

“Hi, I’m from Miller’s Woodshop Creations and I came to…”

He stops when he takes in the sights of you as you open the door wide, stepping out onto the porch in a lilac colored sundress that goes down to the middle of your thighs, exposing long legs as the bodice hugs your hips perfectly. He gasps at the beautiful shades of your eyes. He’s never seen such beautiful eyes before, a color that reminds him of warm summer days and clover covered fields. Your hair is in soft curls, held back by a pink ribbon as you flash him a smile that can knock him down to his knees. He thinks you’re absolutely breathtaking. The most gorgeous thing he’s ever laid eyes on.

“Oh! My little table I ordered. I had no idea it was finished! Let me see it,” you say excitedly as he steps out of the way and lets you bend over to analyze the table.

You rake your fingers over the smooth, polished wood and carefully trace the edges of the hand painted white flowers that cover the surface of the table. It’s so beautiful, exactly what you were looking for when you placed the order. You were afraid they wouldn’t see the vision you were going for, but this was exactly what you wanted. It was perfect.

“This is incredible! Exactly what I pictured it to be. Who made this?” you ask incredibly as you hover over the top of the smooth wood.

“I did,” he says nervously behind you.

You drop your hands and push yourself off the porch, turning to take in the man who made this himself. “You made this?” you ask quietly.

“Mhm. Just finished it up today,” he answers, his eyes locking on yours as he nods his head up and down slowly.

“Oh, well it’s exactly what I wanted! It’s gorgeous, thank you.”

“No problem, sweetheart,” he says with a Southern accent that stops you in your tracks.

Sweetheart. You like the sound of that a lot.

“And you are?” you ask with a raised eyebrow, curiosity swirling in your eyes at the handsome gentleman who stands in front of you.

“Oh, sorry. My name’s Joel. Joel Miller.” He holds his arm out, waiting for you to take his hand patiently, his eyes flicking over yours carefully. You slowly place your hand in his and shake.

You almost gasp when you feel his calloused fingers close over yours. He feels like magic, like shooting sparks are flying in his soft brown eyes as he holds your hand in his. You’ve never had this reaction shaking a man’s hand before. This feels… different. The magic dies as soon as he drops his hand, and you almost reach for his hand again just to feel that buzzing sensation through your body that was there when his hand was in yours.

“Miller. Is Tommy Miller your brother?” you ask with a curious smile.

“Yes, ma’am. He helps me run the shop.”

“Oh, I see. Well, Joel, I’m glad it was you that brought this by for me today,” you smile gently, fluttering your long eyelashes up at him as he blushes and pushes a hand through his tousled curls nervously. You think he’s absolutely beautiful.

“It was no trouble. And your name? I didn’t catch your name, darlin’.”

Darlin’. There he goes again with the little nicknames. You wish he’d never stop. He could just keep going. He could call you anything he wanted to, and you’d let him. As long as he came back here again.

You tell him your name, and he repeats it like honey dripping off the tip of his tongue. It sounds beautiful the way he says it. Like sweet tea that simmers in your soul. It sounds all lilty and dreamy, and you decide then that you do want to see him again.

“That’s a pretty name,” he says softly as his lips curl up into a dreamy smile that almost takes your breath away.

“Oh, uh - thank you,” you smile in return.

You take in his full features now. See the way his eyes shine like caramel in the warm sun that glazes over them, see the dark brown flecks mix with warmer colors to make the prettiest soft brown eyes you’ve ever seen in your life. His skin is tan like gold, his broad shoulders filling out the blue button-up flannel shirt that presses firmly to his strong chest. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows as they expose thick veins that cascade down his arms to end in big, thick hands. Hands you’d like to hold on more than one occasion.

And his smile. God, his smile sends your insides spiraling. He’s so fucking beautiful, and you hope he’ll stay for tea. Maybe, just maybe he’ll want to try your famous hibiscus herbal tea.

Please, stay.

“Here, let me put this inside for you. It’s a little heavy, so don’t want you to try to lift it,” he says adamantly as he bends over and scoops up the little side table in his arms.

You open the door wide for him and watch him walk through the entrance as you point to your cream colored couch that sits up against the soft pastel purple colored walls. “Just right next to the couch will be fine, thank you,” you say as you watch his biceps cling to his flannel shirt, watching the way his back muscles pull against his shirt to expose thick muscles that you’d kill to run your fingers down.

He’s so gorgeous.

When he sets down the table on the dark wooden floor, he takes in your little living space. He examines your white shelf that holds purple orchids, different colored carnations, and potted hanging plants whose vines spill over the edges fluidly.

Next, he notices the windowsill that has amethyst and pink quartz crystals lined against the edge as a stack of flower tarot cards lay against the crystals. He takes in the bright colors of your kitchen as the sunlight beams through the open windows as robins chirp their melodious songs outside the window. Lavender and white tulips encase the edges of the light colored wooden countertop as it overflows with various herbs that stack neatly together.

The air smells dewy-fresh as the aroma of flowers and tea fill the air. You watch Joel take in his surroundings carefully and see his lips part open just slightly as he spins in a slow circle. You lean against the wooden countertop and rest your chin in the palm of your hand as you watch him dreamily. He’s just so handsome, so intriguing, so curious.

As he turns back your direction, you straighten up and try to act normal, but it’s so hard around him. So very hard. “You uh, you sure like flowers don’t ya?” he asks as you blush from the question.

“Is that a bad thing?” you ask nervously as he comes over and leans against the opposite side of the counter, staring up into your eyes as he gently smiles.

“No, s’not a bad thing. Just I haven’t seen a house quite like yours before. It’s very… unique what you’ve done to the place,” he says as his eyes skate across your lit up kitchen.

“Well, I’m a unique person,” you giggle out, letting the single pearl necklace bounce along your tan chest.

“I can see that,” he smiles as his eyes skate down your lilac sundress, gulping when you see him rake his eyes over your full breasts and down your curvy hips and smooth thighs. You suck in a breath when his warm eyes land back on yours as you watch the sunlight trickle warm golden colors against his gentle brown eyes.

He’s so fucking beautiful.

“Purple your favorite color?” he asks as he examines the soft colored walls in your kitchen.

“How could you tell?” you ask as a soft giggle echoes around the small living space.

“I’m good at observations,” he says with a smirk that pulls at the corners of his mouth.

Oh, this one is gonna be a tease. You just know it.

“You live out here alone?” he asks as he walks around the counter, dragging his finger along the wooden edges as he stares at the purple orchids that lay across your wide open kitchen window.

“Yeah, it’s just me and my flowers. Also, my cat, Oliver. He’s probably outside hunting mice or something,” you laugh.

“Ahh. I see.”

You watch the way he furrows his eyebrows at the flowers, looking at them as if he’s trying to figure out what they are. Somehow you think he doesn’t know a lot about plants. Maybe you could teach him.

“Orchids,” you say as you walk up next to him, laying your hand on the wooden counter as you place your eyes on the vibrant deep purple colors of the flowers.

“Huh?” he asks as turns around and faces you.

“These are orchids.” You nod your head to the lush flowers, and an understanding grunt comes from deep within his chest.

“Oh, I see. They’re pretty,” he says as he drops his hand back to the counter. His pinky finger drags along the side of yours, and you feel hot fire run through your fingertips.

You drop your hand and watch him take a step back, eyes melding into yours as the sunlight bursts through his brown irises. You can’t help but to fall for him right then. This man was going to make you pull out the tarot cards, see if love was in your near future. With him.

He shifts his weight and leans into the edge of the counter, contemplating his next actions. “Well, I guess I shouldn’t take up anymore of your time. It was nice to meet you,” he says as he starts to walk toward the front door.

You freeze, almost choke up as the words run dry in your throat. “Wait!” It comes off desperate, loud, and you think you just ruined your chances with him. He turns back around with his eyebrows raised, maybe even alarmed that you almost screamed at him.

“Tea? Do you like tea?” you ask, desperate for him to stay a little longer. You want him, need him to stay just a few more minutes. You want to get to know this man, maybe want to give him a tarot reading, if he wanted one.

“Tea? ‘Course I do. Why do you ask?” He knits his eyebrows together as if he’s concentrating a little too hard on you, and you gulp at the sight of those gorgeous flecks of brown staring back at you.

“Will you stay for tea? I just picked some fresh herbs from the garden, and it’s the least I can do for having you deliver my furniture for me. Please,” you say as you nod to your cream colored couch, asking him to sit while you prepare the tea.

He flicks his eyes over the smooth material of the couch and back at you as his eyes blaze into yours. “Sure, darlin’. I’d love to,” he says as he moves to the couch and sits down gently as his body presses against the soft material. You have to avert your eyes from his large thighs that pull against the dark material of his jeans.

He’s so fucking broad and muscular. He was going to get you into trouble if you were already practically drooling at his Southern charm and good looks.

You smile and get to work chopping up lavender and rosemary herbs as you mix them together with elderberries and hibiscus flowers while you pour almond milk and a dash of water together. Everyone loves your herbal teas, you just hoped Joel would, too.

“So, is this one of your specialities or somethin’? You sure do have a lot of herbs and teacups around,” he says as he assesses your china cabinet full of floral tea cups and fine china that you’ve been collecting for years. Call it a hobby or an addiction, but you’ve been making tea for as long as you can remember. That’s why you have your own tea shop just a few miles down the road. A business you’ve loved every since you got to open your little shop a few years ago.

“Something like that,” you giggle as you continue mixing the various ingredients together in a large glass pitcher. “I actually own my own little tea shop a few miles down the road. It’s called Starlight’s Corner.”

“Starlight’s Corner, huh? Strange, I’ve never heard of it. Where is it located?” he asks as he leans his elbows against his knees and places his hands under his chin, eyes focused on you. You try not to blush as he watches you mix together the tea, but you fail to no avail.

“It’s just off Fourth Street, right next to a little boutique. You can’t miss it.”

“Wait, that’s not too far from my shop. I guess I’ll have to come check it out sometime,” he says with a smile pulling at the corners of his lips. You can’t help but smile back at him.

“Yeah, guess you should.”

After mixing the ingredients together and throwing a dash of sugar in there, you pour two glasses of the floral sweet smelling tea and walk over to him slowly. You hand him a glass and when he takes it your fingers brush up against his, causing you to jolt your hand back as purple liquid splashes over the side of the cup and lands on top of Joel’s denim covered thigh.

You gasp and set your own drink down on the glass coffee table as you run to grab a towel from the kitchen. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to do that, really I’m so sorry,” you apologize hurriedly as you go back over and hand him the dark hand towel, your face beat red with embarrassment as you say sorry another five times.

“Darlin’, relax. It’s alright. It’s just a little spill. Nothing I can’t handle,” he says as he hushes you, circling his hand over your wrist as all worries seem to vanish at his soft touch.

Your breathing calms as you relax your shoulders, his fingers still pressed firmly around your wrist as you feel every single callous that covers his thick fingers. It’s soothing, relaxing, mind numbing as he stares up at you with those warm brown eyes of his, his chest rising and falling calmly as his other hand presses the towel to his damp thigh. And suddenly it’s like you’re in the middle of your lush garden outside, smelling the sweet scents of wildflowers and fresh air as you breathe in his mahogany scent. He smells like fresh wood and pine trees, a scent you could get completely lost in, drown in.

He suddenly drops his fingers from your skin, and it’s like you wake up from a trance. You want him to touch you again, you want to feel the flames that ignite your skin every time he traces his calloused fingers along your soft, silky skin. You want to know what he tastes like, what he sounds like if your lips ever pressed up against his soft, plush lips.

You shake your head out of your lovesick daze and grab your glass of tea as you go around to the other side of the couch and sit down next to him, just inches from your thigh meeting his. You watch him towel off the damp spot on his thigh, rubbing the material harshly as he calls it good and sits the now damp towel on the coffee table.

“Joel, again, I’m so sorry. Let me…”

He holds his large hand out and silences you as your voice stops cold. “Sweetheart, ya gotta stop aplogizin’. Really, it’s fine,” he presses as he goes to grab the half filled glass of tea. He grips it in his large hand and brings it close to his plush lips.

“I hope you like sweet tea,” you say before he takes a sip, hopeful that he won’t hate it.

“If it’s as sweet as you, I’m sure I’ll love it,” he smiles.

Your cheeks flush crimson as you take in the compliment and watch him bring the rim of his glass up to his lips, throwing back his head as you watch the hibiscus tea run slowly down his throat. You watch the way the liquid pulls at his lips, watch the way the veins in his neck bulge and flex as he drinks it down. You can’t help but lick your parched lips as you watch him gulp the liquid down. You wonder what it’d feel like to hang on his lips like that, wonder how it’d taste to run your tongue along his soft, inviting lips.

He tilts his head back up and sets the now almost empty glass back on the table as he licks his lips and smiles sweetly over at you. “Darlin’, how did I not know you had a tea shop so close to my store? This is the best tea I’ve ever had in my entire life,” he muses as you smile over at him in wonder.

“Really? You really liked it that much?” you ask with wide eyes glazing over his big brown eyes that you want to get lost in.

“Mhm. I mean it when I say that was the best glass of tea I’ve ever had,” he says as he nods his head. “Especially when it’s from a gorgeous girl like yourself,” he blushes.

Gorgeous? Oh. He called you gorgeous.

“Oh, stop,” you laugh as you stand and grab his glass up. “You want some more? I have plenty.”

“Absolutely,” he nods.

You pad your bare feet into the kitchen and find Oliver sitting at the edge of the window. His large green eyes hover over at Joel and his calico markings dance in the sunlight as he creeps into the kitchen and slowly makes his way over to Joel, inspecting the newcomer in his house.

“This must be Oliver?” Joel asks as he bends over and pets Oliver as he rubs against Joel’s leg. You giggle to yourself as that’s a sign Oliver likes someone. Looks like Joel is now welcome in his humble abode after all.

“Yep, that’s sweet Oliver. I think he likes you,” you giggle as you watch him scratch the clean fur on his back, hearing Oliver’s loud purrs echo into the open kitchen.

“Looks like it,” he chuckles out. The sound is so warm, inviting as it reverberates through his chest. It’s a sound you’d like to hear around here more often, a sound you could get used to fast.

“You have any pets, Joel?” you ask as you pour more delicious liquid into his glass and saunter back over to him, setting it on the table as to not spill anymore tea on him.

“Can’t say that I do. Never really was a cat person, but for some reason this one seems to like me,” he says as Oliver rubs up against his leg and jumps up into your lap the moment you sit down.

“Hmm, guess he has a good sense of judgement,” you wink at him, watching him nervously run a hand through his tousled dark curls. You want to run your hands through his curls, down his patchy beard that’s sprinkled with salt and pepper grey. He looks to be in his mid forties, an older man who you’d love to get to know better.

“How ummm, how old are you, sweetheart?” he asks as he drags his thick fingers through his patchy scruff, ending at his chin as he drops his hand gently back to his lap.

“Twenty-nine. And yourself?” you ask as you cock an eyebrow up at him.

“Forty-three,” he answers nervously as if to await a harsh judgement his way. You have no issue with an older man though. You wouldn’t even mind if he was your same age, you just wanted to know him. You were intrigued by his charm and creative hands.

“Forty-three, huh?” you ask as your eyes flick up and down him, memorizing his lean jaw and the way his fingers lightly flex in his lap when he has his eyes fixed on you. You were starting to read him well. He was nervous, maybe a little shy around the edges, but you definitely saw that he was nervous about his age. He shouldn’t be.

“Yeah, I’m an old man,” he jokes as his cheeks turn slightly pink from nerves.

“Nah, you’re definitely not old,” you confirm. “If you were old, you wouldn’t have been able to carry that table in for me,” you smile.

“Forty-three ain’t too old for ya?” he teases, but his eyes focus intently on you, needing to know he had a chance. And he definitely had a chance.

“No, it’s the perfect age,” you smile shyly.

He laughs and shakes his head, making a stray curl fall against his forehead. Without even thinking, you take your hand and push it back out of his eyes and feel just how silky smooth his hair really is.

His lips part open as you realize just how close to his face you are now, just a couple inches from his plush lips that probably taste of velvet. Your heart speeds up as you stare into his beautiful eyes, seeing every single golden brown fleck that glistens like galaxies in his eyes. You feel your hand drop to his chest, feel him lean forward as you inhale that woodsy scent that draws you to him. You’re so close, so close to a taste of heaven you so desperately want to reach.

When you realize just what you’re doing, you push back from him and put some distance in between the two of you as you catch your breath and come back down to reality. You almost kissed him. Why the fuck did you stop? You take a large drink of your tea and let the floral flavors float down your throat, hoping it’ll cool off your flushed cheeks as you feel fire burn through your core.

Get a hold of yourself. You just met this man.

Joel clears his throat and shifts his weight on the couch, grabbing his glass as he takes another generous gulp of the purple tea. Oliver sits across the room now and stares in between the two of you, meowing as even he feels the connection in the quiet room.

Joel clears the air as the heated moment disappears for the time being. “So, you’re a flower girl, huh?” he asks as his eyes gaze around the room at all your colorful hanging pots of flowers and plants that line the walls.

“How could you tell?” you ask with a flirtatious gleam in your smile.

“Oh, you know. Lucky guess,” he smirks as you feel your insides coat with warmth.

“Well, I’ll let you in on a little secret,” you giggle. “I have an entire garden out in the backyard, too. Actually, more like an enchanted forest, but you know. You’d have to see it to believe it.”

“Oh, yeah? You gonna show it to me?” he asks as a smile curls against his lips, making a dimple appear that nearly brings you to your knees. He’s so pretty that it hurts.

“If you want me to,” you say through long lashes that fan out for him.

He chuckles lightly and nods. “C’mon then. Show me,” he says as he stands and reaches for your hand. You’re hesitant at first, but he keeps it extended and nods down at his hand. “C’mon, sweetheart. I know you want to show me.” That’s all the encouragement you need.

You take his hand as he helps you up, feeling his calloused fingers close around yours as he pulls you off the velvety surface. He keeps his hand latched around yours until you make it to the back door, feeling a sigh escape your lips as his warmth leaves your hand the moment he drops his fingers from yours. His hand in yours felt so good, it felt right.

You slide on a pair or sandals and lead him down your back porch, past the flowing stone fountain where birds are sitting getting drinks and ruffling their feathers as they bathe in the cool water. You lead him down a winding stone path and watch as he follows close behind.

You trail your fingers on some tall standing cedar trees and push past a small field of sunflowers, watching as the golden finches hang on the flower stems and feed on the seeds. You look behind you and see Joel looking all around him as he takes in the sights of crowded red rose bushes and white tulips that sit side by side as their colors paint each other crimson and white.

“Where are you taking me?” he laughs as he follows close behind.

“You’ll see,” you smile back at him as you grab ahold of his wrist and whisk him to the left, nearing your favorite spot in the place you call your enchanted forest.

As you round a small corner and go through a vine wrapped awning, you pull him into the middle of a large circular field that has rows and rows of different colored wildflowers that scatter across the entire field. Beds of strawberries, grape vines, and all types of various herbs have their own raised beds. Lavender, white lilies, purple irises, and different types of carnations display every which was as the sound of the rushing stream that sits behind a forest of trees carries through the wind. This is home to you.

You spin around and find Joel looking dazed as he takes in his surroundings. He runs his large hands across the growing lavender as he lets his fingers dwindle on the green stems, looking carefully over everything that sits in front of him. He looks to be in awe.

“Welcome to my little place I call my enchanted forest,” you say as you continue staring at him as he slowly turns your direction, releasing his fingers from the lavender that sways slowly in the spring air.

“Did you grow all this?” he asks with wide eyes as you see a Monarch butterfly land softly on the side of his sleeve.

“I did. Took me a little over a year to get everything going, but I think it turned out nicely.”

You walk over in front of him and hold your finger out to the butterfly, watching it come to you as it crawls over your index finger, letting you hold it carefully in your hand as you smile and say hello to the beautiful butterfly.

“Beautiful creatures, aren’t they?” you smile, watching it flap its bright orange wings as it flies off in the direction of some pink wildflowers.

You turn slowly to Joel, and he’s just standing there staring at you as if he’s stuck in a trance. His golden brown eyes gaze into yours as his lips part just the slightest. “Yeah, they are,” he says quietly. But he’s not looking at the butterfly anymore, he’s looking at you. You feel your cheeks burn hot at the way he’s looking at you. He makes you feel so nervous yet so beautiful at the same time. It’s strange, really. Nothing you’ve experienced before.

“Did you know they’re the state insect of Texas?” you say proudly as you pick up a fallen lavender rose off the ground.

“No, I didn’t know that. Fascinating,” he says awestruck, his voice quiet again as his eyes never waver from yours.

You twirl the purple rose in your hand and smile down at it as your fingers brush over the soft, velvety petals. Lavender roses mean enchantment, wonder, and love at first sight. You can’t help but giggle to yourself as you walk over to Joel and slip the rose inside the pocket on his blue flannel shirt, accentuating his look as he looks down and runs his finger over the flower.

“You know, all roses have different meanings, depending on their color,” you say as you rock on your heels, your hands behind your back as you play with your fingers nervously.

“Oh, what’s this color mean?” he asks as he runs another finger over the soft petals.

“It means enchantment, wonder, and admiration,” you smile, leaving the love at first sight out as you feel the sun warm your rosy cheeks.

His eyes look up into yours as a small smile curls against his lips, his eyes lighting up like warm honey that you want to drown in. “Enchantment, is that right?” he asks as he takes a step closer to you, his leather boots meeting the edge of your open sandals as you suck in a breath.

“That’s right,” you say quietly, eyes never leaving his warm colored irises.

“Well, you sure enchanted me, sweetheart,” he smiles, his eyes staring straight into yours as you feel warmth overwhelm all your senses.

You enchanted him.

You break his gaze and look down shyly, unable to say anything to that sentence except just to blush and turn around so he doesn’t see the ridiculous smile that’s covering your face. Turns out he enchanted you, too.

“Come here, I want to show you something else,” you say as you lead him over to the large white trellis walls where blackberry vines trail along the ladder. You fill your hands with the deep colored blackberries and tell Joel to follow your lead.

He looks at you with knitted eyebrows as you tell him to be quiet and watch his step. You take him to the edge of the woods where the trees are thick and tall, a sea of green sprawled out in front of you as you click your tongue against the roof of your mouth, calling to the family of deer that usually greet you every evening.

“What are you doin’, darlin’?” he asks quietly as he leans up against the smooth bark of a tall cedar tree.

“Why don’t you take a look?” you smile as you nod your head in the direction of the woods. He straightens up as he watches the pack of deer walk cautiously out into the open as they gather around and greet you.

“Hey there, guys. You hungry?” you ask as you hold your hand out for them to come up to. They come all at once, their reddish-brown coats glistening in the sun as their long legs patter lightly against the green grass. Their wet noses kiss your skin as they eat the berries slowly out of the palm of your hand. You giggle as their wet noses tickle your skin.

Joel stares in wonder, his eyes focused on you as you laugh and smile as each of the deer take berries from your hand. He watches how happy you are as you reach out your open palm and stroke gently over their backs, amazed that wild deer allow you to touch them.

He watches how your eyes light up each time one of the females rub their head gently against the middle of your arm, watches the way you interact and speak to them as if they’re human themselves.

He’s smitten with your smile. That damn beautiful smile that takes the breath from his lungs. And God, he thinks he’s falling in love. He’s never seen someone quite like you before. You’re so soft, so gentle. Almost as if you’re a delicate rose yourself.

You catch him watching you with the daze of his warm eyes, a soft smile etching the corner of his mouth as he stares at you. It’s like he’s in a trance, and it makes you tingle with pure delight inside.

“Joel, come here,” you instruct as you nod your head and call him over.

“Oh, no I couldn’t,” he says timidly as he leans harder against the tree. You’re not letting him get off that easily.

“Joel, please. Just give me your hand.” You reach for him and take his hand in yours, leading him over carefully to the family of deer. He doesn’t pull his hand away, he just keeps his fingers tightly closed over yours.

“Here, wanna feed them?” you ask as you scatter some blackberries in his calloused hands. He slightly hesitates at first, but then he eases up as he holds his hand out and lets one of the females eat out of the palm of his hand. You watch him carefully as his face relaxes, his shoulders lowering as his hand lays flat with the berries inside them. Another deer comes over and starts grazing out of his hand, and you swear you see a little twinkle in his brown eyes.

“I think they like you,” you giggle, watching the way they crowd around him just like they do with you.

“I’ve never fed wild deer before. It’s… well, it’s…”

“Amazing.” You finish his sentence for him as he nods his head up and down.

“Exactly that,” he replies.

When the blackberries are gone, you gently take his hand in yours and reach his arm out, showing him how to pet them the right way so they’ll remember him and want to come back later. You keep your hand on top of his and guide it along the soft fur as one of the females lets you stroke the top of her head. You drop your hand from Joel’s and watch him still trail his hand up and down the deer’s side, seeing the way a soft smile spreads across his face.

“There you go. You’re a natural,” you beam as his honey eyes meet yours, sending a wave of bliss down your entire body.

He just shakes his head and chuckles out a deep laugh. “I swear, it’s like you’re Snow White. You’re really somethin’ special, aren’t ya?” he asks as his eyes sink into the pits of your soul.

Special. He thinks you’re special.

“Thank you for thinking that,” you giggle shyly. “I just know how to get in touch with nature. It’s one of my favorite places to be,” you say with a sing-song voice as you tilt your head and take in the splashes of warm sun against your skin.

Joel just watches dreamily as you close your eyes and take in the sun. He thinks you’re the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen, knows just how special you are. He thinks he knew the moment he laid his eyes on you.

When all the deer have left, you give him a tour of your grand garden, telling him all about your favorite flowers and take him down to the edge of the stream as little minnows swim around the middle of the clear water. When you start to lead him back to the house, he starts up light conversation again.

“You really are an expert on nature, aren’t ya? Anything from flowers to planting herbs to animals. You’re really quite somethin’,” he says mesmerized as he stops on the edge of the porch and lingers his hand next to yours, grazing his thumb lightly against the back of your hand as you feel the sparks light up like a million fireworks going off at once. It’s warm, feels safe, makes you feel alive as you trail your pinky finger against his. You want to dance in the flames, let the orange sparks ignite your soul as they take you down to devour you whole.

“You think so?” you smile, watching his honey glazed eyes trail over yours.

“Mhm. Just like a little garden fairy,” he teases as he traces his calloused fingers down your jawline slowly. “Gonna have to teach me more, enchantress,” he whispers as his fingers drop from your jawline, your face burning with desire as you beg to be touched by him again.

Enchantress. The word echoes through your mind as his Southern drawl crashes through your ears. Enchantress, you repeat back to yourself. He’s so sweet, just like the honey that swims in his captivating eyes.

“I’d like that,” you swallow as nerves build in your chest.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket and opens up a blank contact page on the lit up screen, handing it to you so you can type in your phone number. You take the phone from his hands and dance your fingers over the keyboard, putting a fairy emoji next to your name as you push save. You hand it back over to him as he slides it back into the pocket of his jeans.

The sun starts to set as colors of deep purple, bright orange, and dark pink paint the sky red as the sun slowly slips beneath the fluffy clouds. He rakes a hand through his tousled curls and nods your direction as he steps down the porch steps. You wish he’d stay for dinner, but you should probably let him get back home.

“It was nice meeting you, darlin’.” He says your name slowly as it drips off his tongue like sweet molasses, sending butterflies flitting through your stomach. “You gonna save some of that sweet tea for me next time?”

Next time. That means there will be a next time. Another day with Joel Miller sipping on your herbal tea as you teach him all about your favorite things. It sounds absolutely magical.

You smile gently at him and shake your head. “I’ll have a pitcher waiting for you,” you promise.

He chuckles as a smile splays against his gorgeous face, painting his eyes the color of hazelnut coffee. So fucking beautiful. “Alright, sweetheart. I’ll hold you to it.”

He turns and walks back to his Chevy truck, but before he makes it he turns around and gives you one more long, waning glance. His eyes full of admiration. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Goodnight,” you whisper back to him, letting the soft wind carry your voice over to him. He gives you one more lingering smile and then walks away. You watch him start the engine and watch as the his headlights disappear through the trees, down the gravel road that’ll lead him back home.

You turn and slide down your porch, leaning your elbows against the edge of your lilac dress as you let out the longest sigh you’ve ever breathed out of your mouth. Oliver comes up and brushes up against your hip, meowing as he stares up at the lingering dirt in the air from Joel’s truck.

“Yeah, Oliver, I think I like this one, too,” you sigh, daydreaming about the next time you’ll see those dreamy brown eyes of his again.

Joel lays in his bed that night, twirling the lavender colored rose between his fingers, inhaling the scent of fresh gardens, sweet smelling flowers, and you. He’s already memorized your exact smell. You smell like rose petals, lilacs, and sweet tea. It’s intoxicating, a fragrance he can’t seem to get out of his head.

And your smile. God, that sweet smile you give him makes him a weak man. He could never say no to you as long as you fluttered those long, dark eyelashes up at him as you flash him that beautiful smile. The one that makes his heart swell in his chest. He can’t wait to see you again. Just the thought of him pulling you in his arms with that form fitting lilac sundress sends chills down his spine. Joel Miller is not one to fall easily, but for you it might be as easy as putting one foot in front of the other.

He places the soft purple rose on his mahogany bedside table and takes a picture as his camera flashes over the rose. He pulls up your name and attaches the picture with a cute little message.

Please, don’t mess this up, Joel. She’s too perfect.

Your phone chimes on your cream painted nightstand, and you roll over in your queen sized bed, taking the lilac sheets with you as you reach for your iPhone. You see a number you don’t recognize on the lit up screen and slide the lock open. Your heart jolts as soon as you see the picture of the lavender rose on his nightstand, the words take your breath away. It’s him, Joel.

Joel: Thanks again for the rose, little enchantress.

You melt as you read the text over and over and over again. Little enchantress. The nickname nearly makes you fall out of bed with how sweet it is. You text him back a couple minutes later.

You: You’re so very welcome. You’re always welcome to come get some more. My garden is always open.

You end the text with a smiley face and a rose emoji, setting your phone back on the nightstand after pushing send and then hug the silky purple pillow to your chest.

He kept the rose you gave him. He kept the rose. He was thinking about you just like you were thinking about him.

You turn again in your silky lilac sheets and inhale the soft vanilla candles that burn in the corner of your room. The gentle breeze of night slips through your cracked window and blows the sheer white curtains to the side. Shadows dance across your lilac covered walls, and it almost looks like two people slow dancing in the moonlight. You pretend it’s you and Joel, dancing under the moonlight as he pulls you close and grazes his lips against yours, pretend his hands envelop yours as his calloused fingers graze the edges of your face.

You turn back around and close your eyes, wishing for dreams of dark eyes and tousled curls. Joel, Joel Joel. You were all his, all for the taking. He just needed to come sweep you off your feet, and you’d be his. You already knew, he was the one you wanted, the one you’d been wishing for for your entire life. He was the one.

Joel was the one.

Tags: (Please let me know if you do not want to be tagged. I figured you guys would want to read!) @joelalorian @joelmillersblog @vividispunk @tuquoquebrute @mountainsandmayhem @princesatracionera @blueseastorm @janaispunk @amyispxnk @bambisweethearts @vivian-pascal @strawberri-blonde @dugiioh @akah565 @ka-x-in @orcasoul @lotusbxtch @reddedmiller @r3dheadedwitch @pedrostories @jasminedragoon @msjarvis @littlevenicebitch69 @ezrasbirdie-main @cherrybombsxxx @thischarmingmandalorian @prettytulips @burntheedges @sweetercalypso @keylimebeag @casa-boiardi @vvitchesh3x @laurrrra

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frogchiro · 8 months

Note

hey babes heard what happened with that anon :( here’s a little thought for a penny:

texan!graves that wears wrangler jeans and buttoned ups and owns a huge truck and a large more than half a million dollar house with a bountiful amount of land just for reader to stroll around and plan things to build on his property.

texan!graves who argues with his spouse about where to put the pool in and ends up buying another acre just to avoid putting the trees too close to the peach trees.

texan!graves that picks up readers from their workplace, placing HIS white cowboy hat onto them, warning the prying eyes that prey on them

texan!graves making you ride him while sunday football is playing and a beer in his hand with the other on your hip guiding you. he makes you cum until the youre all limp and a late dinnertime rolls by

as a texan, i LIVE for graves. idk man in my head it keeps switching from graves being my father figure or my slut 😝

I need this, like you won't understand it I NEED THIS-

Graves believes 100% in the Cowboy Hat rule, no questions asked. It's a claim on you, a mark that you belong to him, this pretty girl in her pretty sundress all nice and soft and flustered bc Philip couldn't help himself and put his hat on you right at the rodeo :((

Also makes you get him beer when football plays on the TV and he wants ti watch :(( You can complain all you want, that he will smell bitter with the smell of beer, cigar smoke and his natural musk but Graves will just smirk lazily at you, spread out like a kind on the soft sofa and pull you in by the wait to kiss your soft lower tummy before swatting your ass lightly with a 'don't whine at me darlin'~ Just be a good wifey f'me and get me the beer' :((

Will definitely make you undress from the breezy sleeping gown you had on and sit in his lap as he thrusts his strong hips up lightly to graze your sensitive pussy with the material of his sweatpants. Eventually will line his flushed and leaky dick up with your opening, tease the tip against your pussy just pressing it there until you whine and squirm but Phil will just shush you to remind you that's he's still watching football :((

Makes you sit all still and pretty in his lap, one hand holding the bottle and the other is holding your waist, caressing it and squeezing from time to time and thrusting his hips up slightly to feel the pressure of his leaking tip against your poor cervix♡

#kin speaks #asks #interactions #cod mw x reader #cod x reader #philip graves x reader #graves x reader #philip graves

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myladysapphire · 5 months

Text

His Sapphire Princess (VI)

After the night in the brothel Rhaenyra is married to Laenor Velayron to protect the birth of her child. who in the years to follow is the only one of Rhaenyra's children that is believed to be his, she is loved by all in the red keep, even queen Alicent adores the girl, so when Rhaenyra proposes a marriage between Aemond and Rhaenyra's daughter Visenya, Alicent happily agrees.

The children having been best friends in their youths are more than happy to be wed but when the incident at drift mark occurs things change, will it be for better or worse?

word count: 2,647

CW: mentions of SA and rape and parent negligence

Fem!oc x Aemond Targeryen (can be read as x reader)

Masterlist | series masterlist | previous part | next part

disclaimer: i do not own any of claim any of the A song of ice and fire characters, all rights belong to GRR MARTIN, all characters are his except for my OC

Winterfell

Winterfell was beautiful, whilst cold and grey it gave a feeling of home. Though she was an outsider and always would be, to her winterfell felt welcoming, homely. Perhaps it was the snow swept roofs and hills, or the hot springs the heated the whole of winterfell, leaving no crook nor crevice cold.

The gods woods were where she felt the most welcome, though she supposed she shouldn’t seeing as she did not worship the old gods of the north. But it was the only thing here that reminded her of the red keep. Though the red keeps gods woods was pitiful to that of winterfells. Here the woods were filled with never ending trees, caked in a sea of snow. Winter roses were scattered through the woods, mixed in with a few other northern native flowers, but the winter rose was the only flower that seemed to do the woods any justice, they evolved the trunks of the trees, made a natural path to the shining light of the gods woods, the ancient weirwood tree, a face carved into it, a face carved by the children of the forest, she guessed it was the face of one of the old gods, though as far as she knew the old gods, unlike the seven, did not present with faces or name. It was warm in the gods woods, despite what seemed to be the permanent layer of snow that coated the gods woods year round, with the hot springs out in the open and pooling into lakes she supposed it made sense, but she would never be used to feeling the need to shed her thick winter coat whenever she entered the gods woods.

With the godswoods at the centre of winterfell and spanning over 20 acres, winterfell easily or shadowed it, with greenhouses half the size of most castles in Westeros, allowing production of many crops all year round. Then there was the castle itself, though it was more grey that she was used to it was beautiful, and unlike the red keep, there was much less politics and tension, less debate over what the colour and exact shade of her dress and what it meant. She felt more free, less scrutinised. And she had more friends than enemies here, though the lack of her Aemond was ever present.

The people of the north, originally hesitant and cold, soon warmed up to her (as much as notherns do to outsiders). They were a generous kingdom, despite them being one of the poorer kingdoms, with the lords and ladies lacking the selfish cunning of the south.

At first her being here only felt like a punishment and now it felt like a blessing, a much needed breather form her mother and the politics of her family, though one thing she did not need a breather from was Aemond, and he was the only thing keeping her from the feeling of home, here in the north. The people here in the north were very different, though they were known for their dislike of outsiders and yet the cold gazes felt kinder than the false niceties of the red keep.

There were many things she loved about the north, but Cregan stark has been her favourite part.

Though she was sure her mother whisked away to the north in an attempt to become enamoured by him and for her to beg her betrothal to Aemond be broken in favour of Cregan. But instead she had found a dear friend. Whilst he was handsome, and a small crush had developed she could not deny her feelings for Aemond eclipsed any feelings for him.

Creagan himself was enamoured with the realms' beauty. And had it not been for his recent bethrothal to Lady Arra Norrey mere weeks prior to Rhaenyra request for her ward here, he was sure he would have loved the idea of potentially marrying her.

To the north and to Cregan it was clear why this betrothal and fostering was sought after, the events at driftmark had spread quickly , of how her own brother had stabbed and maimed both her and her uncle.

The scar on her neck was hard to miss, though often strategically covered with high necks and necklaces, but that did not hide all the damage the scar had left, with Visenya often randomly flinching, her left hand unsteady and shaky from the nerve damage her own brother had left. The maester at winterfell had attetmpted physical therapy though it seemed that whilst she no longer shook it seemed that her grip and reflexes were permanently damaged. This led to her having to learn everything all over again, having previously been fully left handed, she had to relearn to right, to paint and even to ride her dragon. A enw saddle was built, designed to hold her left hand in place and allow her to street and be forced to dominate with her right hand instead. Though the vermothor seemed to hate the cold. She thought prephas it had something to do with his old rider, and Alysannes rumoured love for a certain northern lord. But his bond with his rider was strong and though he often flew to dragonstone, to his mate, he always came back.

Time flew fast and before she knew it, it was Aemonds 13th nameday.

Dear Aemond,

Happy name day!

I hope this reaches you in time. I miss you dearly, though it has only been a few moons. I had hoped to celebrate today with you, but the maester advised my arm may be too weak towithstand the whole journey, so instead I hope my writings may be of some comfort.

Aegon did write me recently, telling me of a surprise he had planned for your birthday, though he left no hints what it would be. But seeing as it's Aegon i dont have high hopes it will be a surprise aimed to please you. For that reason I hope this reaches you early, as to deter you from whatever Aegon has planned.

I have commissioned you a gift, we both have always loved the gem and I myself have had a necklace and ring made from the stone,and now you have a matching eye, aswell as a ring. One I wish we may oneday use to commemorate our marriage. The sapphire itself was gifted to me by my father after he came back from one of his many trips. He had always said to me that this gem would always be a reminder of him for when he goes away, but now each of us shall have a piece of each other with us. And I have my fathers ring to rember him by instead.

I mis you Aemond, so much. I wish i could just fly to kingslanding and see you, to spend the day with you. But I hope the lack of my presence does not affect your day.

As you know Jace has written to me, nearly as often as you, but the other week, after months on end with no acknowledgement from my mother, she wrote. Twisting some tale of how the thought of what happened to me was such a tragedy and she could not bare the sight of me in pain and needed to separate herself so as to not act on her anger at my condition. As if it were not the actions of her son and instead the actions of you that caused my pain. She seems to place the balme of that night entirely on you, and begs me to ask the king to break our engagement, as he refuses her requests. And then writes a paragraph of the rumors shes heard of Cregan, saying ‘i have heard he is quiet handsome, and a goods swordsman. He is only a few years your elder and the Starks are a good noble and loyal house, a marriage alliance would bring great benefits to our cause.’ OUR! What is this cause? The cause where a mother abandsons her child from birth? A mother who is so entitled that she does not see that the whole of the court does not worship the ground she walks on. Or prehas she has finally acknloegde the divide in court. The Blacks and the Greens, and how her own actions and negligence has caused and even bigger divide? Now of course i do not know the full ins and outs of the politics ive heard, on what makes it to the north and to be honest whilst i am here i do not find the need to care. Though, my dear Aemond, with the rumors I have heard perhaps I should care more. But that will be something I can only do when my mother sends for me from my fostering, a day which perhaps I should now dread.

I tire of her, Aemond, and their politics. How the simple colour of your gown can dictate your side in an imaginary war.

My lessons here consist more and more of politics. It turns out that though my mother neglects me she does not neglect my maester and my stuides. ‘To be my heir you must have the proper training and discipline, my father taught me much later than I teach you’ I? Seriously? ‘You must master the arts of politics before the art masters you, and learn your history before you become a part of it. All good leaders have learnt from the mistakes of their predecessors. Take Jaeherys for example, not only did he take the mistakes of the past and make them into his successes. Your grandfather tries to be him, though I love my father, he is no Jahearys. But I hope you will be.’

Me? No, I would not become a man so obsessed with the image of the house of the dragon that he would abandon his own children, banish them and cause their deaths all for the sake of image. My mother does not know me, and her letter only made that clear, and i ahte to burden you with this on your name day, but how can i not, I miss you Aemond, and it is clear to me that you are the only person who truly gets me.

Please visit me soon.

Your Senya’

Two days after Aemond's birthday she got her reply, not a written letter, but him.

She woke to the sound of her window being forced open, and Aemond tumbling into her room.

“Senya” he wispherd, slowly approaching her bed. She was still laying down, half asleep. “ Senya”, he spoke again, he sounded frustrated, not from her but he sond sad, different, traumatised. “ please, senay! It's me!”

“Aemond?” she questioned, sowly arousing herself awake, “you’re here?”

He had grown in the last 8 moons, taller and more grown into his features. He was handsome. Though he never was ugly, but now he was handsome.

“Of course, you asked” he spoke, voice soft, but nowhere near his normal calm.

He had received her letter the day of his name day, mere hours before he found out exactly what Aegons so-called present was, and mere hours after he had mounted Vaghar and fled north, leaving nothing but a short note saying he had gone to see Visenya.

“what’s happened?” she asked, as he approached and she reached forward taking his hands in hers. This was the first time she had seen him in so long, and without his eye too. And yet she did not look at him differently, her gaze the same as it always had been, if not more kind.

He took a deep shalky breath, sitting down beside her. His head dropped to her hands, kissing them softly. “Aegon.” he stutterd, “he-he” he couldnt get the words out, and instead his breath quicking.

“Hey, hey” Visneya started reaching her hand to stroke his face, “look at me Aemond, and tell me what happened.” she spoke, worry clear in her tone, “please”

He took a moment, his face focused solely on hers, he took a deep breath and began. “Aegon,” he swallowed thickly “he-he took me to a brothel”

Her breath hitched, unsure what to think but she knew it couldnt be good, wouldnt be good. Because if it was she knows Aemond would not be here or looking at her with such sorrow if it was. She took his hand more fimly in hers, squeezing it in reassurance.

“He…he said he had a surprise, as you said, he dragged me through the streets not telling me a thing, and then we arrived at ‘Chatayas brothel’, an-an older woman answered the door. She must have been older than my mother, she-“ he hesitated, looking down, as if in shame. “lead us through the door, grabbing my hand and Aegon- he said “time to get it wet��, he… he left me there laughing as this woman and … pushed me to the bed. She wouldn’t take no for an answer… she ignored me as i begged…i begged and beggedbut sdhe wouldnt stop, until Aegon came back, drunk and on who knows what, he was laughing and then” Aemond was fully crying by this point, something she had never know him do.

“ and then?” she proptmed slowly, whipping his tears.

“ he stopped, he looked at me and relasied what had happened, realsied what he had done and cried.”

“cried?”

He nodded “i- he… started to explain, but i couldnt move, i was i didnt want to be here, didnt want to be near that woman, and he just cried. Eventually he must of regained his composure, for next thing i knew i was in my bed and then i ran, ran too you” he finished, “i dont even know what his reasoning was just something about you and wanting you and that this was the only way he knew how.”

“What?!” first her mother pushing Cregan on her and now Aegon traumatising his own brother to break of hedrr bethroal just to have her? As if she was something that could be won. “ why? Why would he do that, force his brother through something so, oh Aemond im so sorry, i-i dont even, i'm so sorry”

They must have fallen asleep at some point, as she woke up laying next to Aemond, to the sound of a maid knocking.

“Aemond!” she coaxed him awake,”Aemond! Get up before the maids see you!”

“Huh?” he mumbled, his head in a pillow.

“Hide” she shoved him gently, moving out of bed, and readying to open the door. That managed to get his attention, as he moved to reach for her as she got up, only to groan as he missed.

“What?” he asked again groggy.

“Hide!” she whispered harsh;y, growing a blanket on the bed, “just hide!” she opened the door slowly, seeing her maid, Ana, holding her breakfast.

“My princess” Ana curtised, moting forward to push the door more open.

Aemond finally took the hint, burning himself under the moutainfull of pillows and blankets Visneya had on her bed.

“Just over there please Ana” she spoke pointing to her side table. “ oh and Ana, i am not feeling to well, can you please make Creagan aware and cancel my plans for the day?”

She curtsied nodding “of course, should i call the maester?” she asked, concern in her tone.

“No, no, just need a day to relax and i should be just fine” she spoke, prompting Ana to leave “ thank you!” she spoke, closing the door.

Collapsing on the bed next to Aemond, she spoke, “you cant stay” she mumbled.

“I know”

That was the last time she would see him for two years, the last time he would really speak to her and the letter she had received last moon, would be his last.

next chapter

Taglist (bold means could not tag)

His sapphire princess: @cathy1514 @iiamthehybrid @melllinaa @aleemendoza2425-blog @cassandra1995-blog1 @deltamoon666 @aelora-a @ryiana @isa-beenme @unique7676 @adriennepoison

HOTD: @taragryenmoony

Aemond: @blossomedflowerofluv @violet-potter

General: @flrboyd @theanxietyqueen17 @zillahvathek @dark-night-sky-99 @apollonshootafar

#aemond fanfiction #aemond targeryen #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targeryen x oc #hissapphireprincess #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x original female character #aemond one eye #hotd aemond #aemond #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond x oc #aemond x targaryen! reader #his sapphire princess

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darkskippychan · 3 months

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Temp Work and the Dangers of GMO

By DarkSkippychan

Hello fans of my darkness. I wrote this story for a fan of mine who decided to share herself with me when I was feeling down as a token of appreciation. I hope you are able to afford to go back to university soon and things work out better for you. This story contains Non Con, Sommnophilia/drugging, F/Monster, Tentacles, Forced Orgasms, and Impregnation. Please do not read this story if any of these things may be triggering for you. You have been warned.

Marin Biotech (the 3rd largest biotech firm in the world) had just opened its newest research campus two months ago in her local suburban town. The new work campus provided the nearby community with an influx of much needed capital as well as fueling a new boom in housing, local shops, and (of course) jobs. Their sprawling 43-acre campus was home to many lab facilities, greenhouses, and office buildings all catering to the global companies’ many research projects.

She had been lucky enough to land an afterhours temp job entering data from several of the many research groups and labs. Her normal shift ran from 6pm to 2am, so she seldom saw other employees of the company.

Some people would have found the work conditions lonely, but she actually enjoyed the solitude and freedom to work at her own pace. Not to mention she got full access to the company’s well stocked employee lounge and was pretty much left alone to do her job with little to no supervision as long as she was completing her assigned tasks.

After parking her car in the near empty concrete employee parking garage, she hurried quickly to the main facilities building, her breath fogging out in front of her from the winter cold. Fortunately, snow hadn’t started falling yet, but it always felt right around the corner.

The building was quiet, and she didn’t see another soul as she used her employee pass to enter the building. She crossed the lobby and took the elevator down to basement floor 1 where the buildings main labs and her computer terminal awaited her.

Upon reaching her workstation, she quickly removed her coat, scarf, and gloves before the heat of the heavily climate-controlled basement overwhelmed her. The company always kept it a bit warm down in the lab levels, and she wasn’t sure why. She had learned to drink generous amounts of coffee to offset the urge to doze or sleep while she worked in the comfortable warmth.

The hard copy file ‘In box’ on her desk had several inch thick manila files of printed paper data for her to enter, but she noticed that her workload was about half of its usual size. Thinking it over, she figured some of the researchers had decided to get a head start on the three-day weekend with Monday being a company holiday.

She settled down and woke her computer from sleep mode, as she fell into a rhythm and began to get down to work entering all the collected data.

Lab 3 (of 8) of Marin Biotech main research building was currently devoted to the development of new Genetically Modified Organisms (or GMO for short) mixing plant and animal DNA to create new fast growing and disease resistant strains of plants and animals.

The work was slow and tedious and led to hundreds if not thousands of non-viable products. More recently work had begun to create mutations of promising strains by bombarding them with different forms of hard Alpha, Beta, and Gama radiation, hoping to create organisms with a more favorable outcome.

Among the newest batch in the lab was genetic specimen Beta-317. The Beta series were all different Amazonian Jungle species (picked for their high growth rates and competitive nature) mixed with different ocean animals to try to cultivate their unique properties. Beta-317 or B317 was specifically Cissus Amazonica also known as the Amazon Jungle Vine propagated and enhanced with spliced genes of the Enteroctopus dofleini or Giant Pacific Octopus for its RNA editing abilities and regeneration properties.

Work in Lab 3 had ended early in the day as the staff left early for their vaunted three-day weekend. Multi spectrum bulbs illuminated the far quarter of the lab where the Beta specimens were constantly exposed to full spectrum light as to encourage their rapid growth. Each GMO hybrid had also been placed in a nutrient rich water bath to provide each with the proper nutrients to sustain rapid growth.

Unseen by human eyes, experiment B317 quivered under the constant UV assault, before unfurling several of its thin appendages in its nutrient bath. Roots quested out and dipped into its neighbors fluid baths, draining the fluids and growing in size and length from the additional nutrition.

One appendage discovered the edge of the pool of light and B317 quivered as it began to pull itself out of the damaging brightness still growing from all the rich nutrients it had just absorbed from its neighbors.

A couple of hours had passed in the blink of an eye while she worked when she suddenly let out a big yawn. Stretching, she decided it was time to take a break and get some coffee to help her finish her work shift.

The employee lounge was just down the hall from her workstation, the ecofriendly lights automatically turning on as she entered. She picked up a cup and placed it in the coffee machine, then frowned as nothing happened after she hit the dispense button. Looking at the illuminated control panel she saw the machine was displaying an error code.

She sighed loudly and instead selected some Lavender tea from the tea display beside the coffee machine. A little hot water, milk, and honey later and her second drink of choice was ready.

As she headed back to her workstation, sipping her tea, she didn’t notice the quivering greenish form of B317 clinging to the ceiling down the hall behind her.

B317 had moved through the empty building hallways virtually silently despite its growing size, but not finding anything of interest until it had spotted the woman’s movement as she left the employee lounge.

Attracted to her heat and scent, it slowly began to follow her down the hall moving silently along the ceiling, vine-like tentacles spreading it’s weight evenly as it moved.

She sat down and began working again, taking a sip from her tea now and then. After a while she suppressed another yawn just as she finished up her current folder. She stretched again and leaned back in her chair deciding to close her eyes to rest for just a moment. After all, she thought, her workload was light, and a little nap couldn’t hurt.

B317 found its prey not moving as it slipped past the door frame and into the room. The only sound in the room was the gentle rhythmic breathing from the woman reclined in the chair, and the quiet hum of the lights and office equipment around the room.

Slowly it moved along the wall and down onto the office floor. Moving carefully, it cautiously reached out several tentacle vines towards the sleeping woman. Delicately they brushed across her warm skin, savoring the heat from her body, before stopping as she murmured in her sleep. As she settled back down, they continued to move along her body exploring.

B317 was confused by the cooler non-living clothing around the body of the young woman, but it began to become more excited by the closeness of her warmth and scent. More of its appendages began to move to the body of the woman, wrapping around her very gently as not to wake her.

As B317’s vine tentacles began to move up her body to explore the woman’s face she suddenly shifted and began to blink awake, unconsciously knowing something was wrong.

‘Whaaaa..’ she began, her brain still foggy and dazed from her short nap.

B317 struck out of instinct, jabbing a needle like barb into her neck and injecting her with a potent venom. The woman cried out and her body tensed at the sudden prick of pain. Her eyes shot open, then almost just as suddenly her eyes rolled back into her head, and her body went limp as the creature’s venom coursed through her system.

The newly born mutant vibrated in pleasure as its prey surrendered to its toxin. Hungrily it began to tear through the young woman’s clothing, vine tentacles desperate to expose more of her soft warm flesh.

The woman moaned weakly as the mutant creature stripped her body roughly and she involuntarily shivered at her body’s sudden exposure. Questing tentacles began to explore every inch of her body, causing her body to react of its own accord.

Her nipples began to harden as her body was roughly explored and goose flesh rose as it attempted to fend off the sudden change in temperature. The creature lifted her whole body up off the chair, easily holding her weight aloft. Her head fell back, causing her mouth to open, which B117 took as an invitation to explore. One thick tentacle vine pushed into her mouth, and began to slide down her throat, enjoying her mouth’s warm wetness.

Her heart began to beat faster, her body aware of the danger, even if she herself was not. Warmth flowed over her as her body flushed and reacted to the creature’s touch. Moistness gathered as her juices begain to drip from between her legs.

The creature’s body quivered, and a bulge began to form along its body before bursting forth into a new appendage from its central mass. More of the mutant’s vine tentacles wrapped around the woman’s legs, spreading them wide while it held her in the air before it.

The new appendage moved towards her exposed womanhood drawn there by her musky scent and dripping juices. It slowly began to rub along her slit, collecting her juices along its length and head before nuzzling against the opening of her sex.

A soft moan escaped her lips around the vine tentacle in her mouth that quickly grew to a cry as the creature suddenly forced itself inside her. Her cries just as suddenly turning into soft whimpers as the large appendage slid deeper and deeper inside her, stopping only once reaching the opening to her womb.

Suddenly the creature began to roughly pound its length in and out of her, causing the woman to involuntarily orgasm after just a few thrust of its large phallus like vine tentacle.

B117 greedily absorbed her juicy discharge and the rich nutrients it carried, not stopping for one moment to let the woman rest as it continued to forcefully fuck her. The head of the appendage struck the entrance of her womb like an ancient battering ram trying to forcibly enter a besieged castle.

The woman’s whole-body shook, and her breast bounced with each hard thrust into her limp unresisting body. Orgasm after orgasm ripped through her as the creature continued to have its way with her and absorb her rich juices.

Finally, after several minutes of attempting to force its way inside her, the creature was able to modify its breeding appendage. The tip forming petals that it used to pry and force her cervix open, thus allowing its head to slip deep inside her womb and nestle inside her.

Her stomach began to bulge as it worked more and more of itself inside her, stretching her out birth canal out. She moaned in unconscious protest as the mutant filled her body fuller and more completely than ever before.

B117 pulled the young woman close to it as it felt something deep inside itself grow, then detach, and begin to work itself along the length of its body and down into the appendage connecting them.

Slowly bit by bit, it contracted and moved the hard lump along its length. Reaching the connection between them, the creature was stymied by the tightness of the woman’s body wrapped around its breeding tentacle vine.

Slowly it began to push, harder and harder, increasing the pressure until finally with a loud moan from the woman, her vaginal passage stretched out far enough to allow the hard mass to pass. Using more and more pressure now, the creature continued to push the hard lump of its seed deep inside her.

Centimeter by centimeter the seed moved up her birth canal to be stopped once more as it reached the much smaller opening of her cervix. Twisting and pushing, B117 thrashed the tip of its tentacle inside her womb, causing her to orgasm once more. The sudden tensing and relaxing of her body with each pulse finally allowing the seed to continue millimeter by millimeter up inside her until finally it plopped into the warmth and wetness of her womb.

The woman’s whole body suddenly relaxed as the mutant finished implanting its seed inside her. Sweat dripped from her limp body to be collected greedily by the vine tentacles enveloping her as they sucked at her skin.

Content for now, the creature labeled B117 began to move out of the room, holding its prize in a cocoon of vine tentacles above it.

The woman rose to conscious slowly, her mind still slow and foggy from the mutant venom the plant hybrid had injected her with. Her whole body felt sore, and every muscle abused as if she had run several marathons or had climbed a couple of tall mountains.

She could feel the cool air of the room on her naked skin and her throat felt raw and dry. Her eyes moved around the room, not recognizing where she was.

A very bright group of lights was over a table in one corner of the room. All around her was a green vine type plant mass, covering what she could only assume were tables, chairs, and office equipment. The plant covered the walls, and even parts of the ceiling, and seemed to pulse almost as if it were breathing.

As she looked around, a vine began to move towards her mouth. She tried to turn her head, or to pull back, but she found she didn’t have the strength to even do that much.

As the tip of the vine tentacle opened her mouth and slid inside, it suddenly pulsed and began to disgorge a warm, thick, starchy tasting liquid into her mouth. Disgusted the woman had no choice but to swallow the liquid or risk drowning in it. After a minute or so the vine tentacle stopped and slid back and out of her mouth.

Even as she was disgusted by what had just happened, the woman was surprised to find that she felt better and a little stronger. But before she could even begin to adapt to her situation, she felt something twitch inside her lower belly.

She looked down and her eyes went wide as she saw that her belly had grown and was now stretched out as if she were six months pregnant. Her eyes darted around wildly, looking for something to help steady her mind with.

She saw a clock on the wall displaying the time and date. Only a few hours had passed since she went to the lounge for her tea. It seemed incomprehensible to her.

How could all this have happened in only a couple of hours?

Suddenly she felt a large movement inside her growing belly. She managed to flop from her side onto her back as the first contraction hit her. She cried out loudly and moaned as she felt something moving, fighting its way out of her.

‘Oh god… noOOOOOOOO!’ her hands each wrapping around a vine and squeezing hard as her legs spasmed. The vines felt almost like a kind hard rubber with very little give in them as she panted and struggled with the new life growing inside her trying to be born.

Sweat covered her entire body as she panted and felt the organism inside her moving towards its birth and freedom. She cried out again as another contraction helped to move it along. Two small vine tentacles burst from the slit of her red swollen sex and began to wrap themselves around her thighs, giving the creature additional purchase to pull itself out of its mother.

She came then, hard and long despite everything, the pain and pleasure signals mixed up and scrambled in her brain. The hard rubbery body of the birthing creature pushing hard against her G spot as it pulled itself out of her, raping her from the inside out.

With a final push she collapsed back against the labs floor, totally spent. Her eyes fluttered as she fought to stay conscious despite the struggle of birthing the creature and her ordeal.

The newborn creature began to slide up its mother’s body, two vine tentacles questing for the milk already dripping from her nipples. Attaching themselves to her hard nipples, they began to suck greedily on their mother’s breasts, nourishing itself on her milk and already beginning to grow.

B117 began to stir once more. Vine tentacles quested out for the young woman’s warm sweat covered body once again. After all, her womb was now empty and available, and it had a full three-day weekend to procreate and progenerate…

As the young woman began to slip back into unconsciousness, she felt the touch of B117 along her body once more and wondered if taking the temp job had actually been such a good idea….

I hope you enjoyed my little dark story. Thanks for reading and congratulations for making it this far. If you did in fact enjoy the story, please feel free to buy me a coffee or send me a nude or two. Nudes nourish my soul and fuel my imagination. Till next time friends, stay dark and weird. DarkSkippychan Feb/2024

#cnc somno #breeding toy #somnophilia #monster kink #tentacles #monster fucker #monster fucking #cnc dark #kidnap fantasy

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girlfromthecrypt · 3 months

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𝕊𝕦𝕔𝕙 ℍ𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕪 ℂ𝕒𝕞𝕡𝕖𝕣𝕤

[Interactive fiction, Demo TBA]

𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕊𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕪

You play as a counselor for the understaffed and underfunded Cloverleaf program. Your job is to organize and oversee a cabin camping holiday for children from troubled homes. Working hard alongside you are your four allies (and potential friends/lovers) Basil Laurier, Anita Merrick and the siblings Flo and Reem Malak.

Unfortunately, the campsite you're tasked with preparing is nothing short of decrepit. Still, you'll make the best of it, right? As you and your colleagues undertake repairs and cleaning efforts (and possibly get to know each other a little better), you keep finding yourself in increasingly unsettling situations.

But surely there's no reason to worry, right?

𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕃𝕠𝕔𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟

Welcome to Camp Solace!

This picturesque cabin campsite is situated in the middle of nowhere, directly next to the beautiful Lake Solace and flanked by acres of woodland, far removed from the bustle of civilization. In fact, it'd take you quite a while to reach the nearest town in case of an emergency. You'd best make sure nothing goes wrong.

Camp Solace was established in the 1980s. In 2022, the site was bought out by the wealthy Laurier family who plan to overturn it to appeal to “a higher class of customers”. But not before offering it to the Cloverleaf program for the season, free of charge. The things people do for their public image…

𝕋𝕙𝕖 ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤

For the duration of the holiday as well as its lengthy preparations and follow-up work, you will be relying on the support of your four closest colleagues.

Basil Laurier (M, trans, late twenties): The eldest son of the Laurier family. He's volunteering at Cloverleaf. Wealthy, though he tries not to seem it. Van-lifer, nature lover and dedicated spiritualist. Skilled craftsman. Enjoys building things and blowing them up after. Harmonious, cheerful and snarky.

Anita Merrick (F, mid twenties): Student of psychology doing her internship with the Cloverleaf program. Has a bachelor's degree in information technology. Smart, kind and chronically sleep-deprived. Enjoys a good book and fancy coffee. Certified softie. Easily scared (she's in for a bad time, the poor thing).

Reem Malak (F, early thirties): Music teacher, band guitarist and vocalist. Volunteering at Cloverleaf. Flo’s older half-sister. Also plays drums and percussion, sax, piano, bass… and bagpipes. Impulsive, passionate and energetic. Enjoys doing yoga and lifting weights. The cool girl. Very tall.

Flo Malak (M, late twenties): Martial arts teacher who gives classes for both adults and children. Also volunteering at Cloverleaf. Taekwondo, Krav Maga. Silent, kind and not without his quirks. Reem calls him “socially challenged”. Enjoys obscure media and monster movies. Even taller than his sister.

𝕋𝕙𝕖 ℙ𝕝𝕒𝕪𝕖𝕣 ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕣

Your player character's age will be kept ambiguous, though it’s implied that you’re in same age range as the romance options (meaning your twenties to thirties).

Play as M, F or NB; gay, straight, bi, ace or keep your orientation undefined (Note: Such Happy Campers is very character-driven with a focus on romantic love and interpersonal connections).

Customize your looks and vibe; choose your strengths, personality and outfit!

#if: intro #if: wip #choice script #hosted games #interactive fiction #interactive story #interactive novel #horror fiction #horror romance #original fiction #creative writing #writers on tumblr #horror writing #original writing #amwriting #original character #original characters #wip intro

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moony-ghoul · 5 months

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the abbey itself is actual quite secluded within the forest but the property is large

they own many acres of the forest itself that are used for younger siblings lessons on natural wildlife and also for the ghouls to run free when hunting (each other or animals)

because of size of the property they’re able to fit many gardens most of which are used to grow a vast array of fruits and herbs and vegetables, for the most part residents of the abbey live off the land besides from most meats, liquors and alternative milks that they get shipped weekly. everything else is home grown and made

they have cows on that roam semi-freely around the property, and sheep that are used as a natural mowing service. the sheep’s wool is used to make sweaters for the colder months. omega started caring for the sheep’s and cows full time once aether retired but he’s been dyeing wool and knitting sweaters for years as a hobby.

the cows fall under mounts responsibility, they’re pretty easy to care for and nothings better than taking a nap with what is essentially a large dog under the spring time sun

there’s a chicken coop next to one of the many gardens, food scraps that they’re able to eat are given to them and the rest is put in compost for the gardens. zeph happily took up the responsibility of caring for the chickens after their retirement, it helps them feel useful without putting in too much physical labour to hurt themself. they have names for every chicken and they’re the only one that can tell them apart (they’re guessing half the time but everyone believes them)

#soft domestic ghoul thoughts #i used to live the farm life and i’ve been missing it a lot recently #these satanists live off the land and love their mother earth #ghoul hcs

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probablyasocialecologist · 8 months

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“The rise of plantation capital spawned the drying of the west side of Maui,” said Kamana Beamer, a historian and a former member of the Hawaii commission on water resource management, which is charged with protecting and regulating water resources. “You can see the link between extractive, unfettered capitalism at the expense of our natural resources and the ecosystem.” Drawn to Hawaii’s temperate climate and prodigious rainfall, sugar and pineapple white magnates began arriving on the islands in the early 1800s. For much of the next two centuries, Maui-based plantation owners like Alexander & Baldwin and Maui Land & Pineapple Company reaped enormous fortunes, uprooting native trees and extracting billions of gallons of water from streams to grow their thirsty crops. (Annual sugar cane production averaged 1m tons until the mid-1980s; a pound of sugar requires 2,000lb of freshwater to produce.) Invasive plants that were introduced as livestock forage, like guinea grass, now cover a quarter of Hawaii’s surface area. The extensive use of pesticides on Maui’s pineapple fields poisoned nearby water wells. The dawn of large-scale agriculture dramatically changed land practices in Maui, where natural resources no longer served as a mode of food production or a habitat for birds but a means of generating fast cash, said Lucienne de Naie, an east Maui historian and chair of the Sierra Club Maui group. “The land was turned from this fertile plain – with these big healthy trees, wetland taros and dryland crops like banana and breadfruit – to a mass of monoculture: to rows and rows of sugar cane, and rows and rows of pineapple,” she said.

[...]

In Hawaii, water is held in a public trust controlled by the government for the people. But on Maui, 16 of the top 20 water users are resorts, time-shares and short-term condominium rentals equipped with emerald golf courses and glittering pools, according to a 2020 report from the county’s board of water supply. The 40-acre Grand Wailea resort, the island’s largest water consumer, devoured half a million gallons of water daily – the amount needed to supply more than 1,400 single-family homes.

#maui wildfires #maui hawaii #maui #hawaii #plantations #colonisation

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hometoursandotherstuff · 11 months

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Here’s something different- from the front, it kind of looks like a hat. Built in 1974, is can be considered MCM, but it’s not like your ordinary MCM. Located in Malibu, California, it has 6bd 6ba and if a whopping $27.5M. Take a look at it-

I like that fireplace, it kind of looks like an igloo. I also like the round layout.

This cool. Look at the open concept and ceiling, not to mention the view from the glass walls.

Wow, love this library corner.

The dining area is on a platform, 2 steps high. That looks like bark accent wall.

Look at this cool indoor garden. I would take a chair and sit on the plank floor.

Kitchen in the round. Love the ceiling, it looks like a giant wheel. I love the brick oven, too.

What a cool office- it’s curved, has a lovely half moon window for plenty of natural light, plus a fireplace built into the desk.

Geez, look at the main bd. It’s so unique- not only the shape, but the fireplace in the middle, the ceiling, plenty room for seating and spiral stairs to a loft.

How cool is the loft? Can you imagine relaxing up here? I think I would sleep up here.

This is nice, it looks like a studio.

Here’s one of the secondary bds.

The grounds and outbuildings are beautiful, too.

The home has a few wings, too. This one has a deck and a cool music room.

What a gorgeous property.

Go down to your private beach.

Check out the guest house.

This kitchen is so cool.

I wouldn’t mind living in here.

Home is on .73 acre of oceanfront property.

https://chriscortazzo.com/properties/33604-pacific-coast-highway/

#contemporary mansion #MCM architecture #houses #house tours #home tour

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busybecomingbones · 1 year

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softie (cod mwii)

A/N: this was supposed to be something stupid so I could get into the groove of writing again but for some reason half way through I decided it would be a good idea to start like five other wips so this is coming out way later than I wanted

w.c: 1.6k

summary: obligatory cat fic I write for every new fandom

warnings: probably some swearing lmao, also my indecisive ass didn't know if this should be a ship fic or platonic so I tried hinting at ghost x reader but didn't commit

“This is the safe house?”

Your tone is incredulous as you take in the house- no you think shack is a better word for it- in all its glory. The building is in the middle of nowhere, some abandoned acre of field, deep in the Russian countryside, and you’re surprised it hadn’t collapsed in on itself yet. Each plank of wood siding is a deep brown color that makes you think that all of them are definitely rotten, a few of the windows are broken in, and some of the roofing is no longer on the roof but is instead hanging off the clearly handmade gutters.

Someone shoves past you and makes for the door. “It’ll have to do.” Ghost’s voice is gruff as he twists the doorknob and walks inside. He clears the entrance and signals for you and Soap to follow. You both pull out your guns from their holsters and trail after Ghost as he goes further into the house. As you all split up to clear different rooms, you let yourself feel a little relief since the interior isn’t half as bad as the outside. It’s dusty and cluttered, but you aren’t worried the floor is going to be falling from beneath you.

It doesn't take long to clear the entire building. It’s small, one story with a wine cellar outside by the backdoor. You meet up with Soap and Ghost in the cramped living room. They come in together through an entrance in the front of the room while you enter through a small doorway on the side. Noticing the way Soap is beelining for the tiny, green corduroy couch, you vault over the arm and stretch your body across its entirety before he has the chance to claim a seat. The cushions smell somewhat of mildew yet you can’t find it in you to care. Its the most comfortable thing you’ve lain on in the past month.

Soap immediately starts grumbling but switches course to the sunken-in recliner residing in the corner but not before muttering, ‘Fuckin’ roaster’ and settling into its beige seat. Naturally, Ghosts takes posts near the main doorway to the living room, where you assume he has a view of the front entryway.

With the threat of Soap gone, you attempt to get comfortable. You roll onto your back and try to ignore the way the lumps and attachments on your tac vest dig into you. Despite the discomfort, your body seems to sag in relief as you finally allow the tension to leave your muscles. The mission had been kicking your ass from the get-go and you were going to savor every moment of peace you could get your hands on. As you feel your eyelids start to get heavy, you force yourself to move your head until you face Ghost. To your surprise, he’s already looking at you. If he’s in any way affected by you catching him he doesn’t show it.

“How long are we gonna be here?”

He breaks eye contact to glance out of the nearest window, there's a round hole in one of the panes from what you assume was a stone being thrown through it. Like always, his voice is gruff as he responds, “Until Bravo Team RVs here.”

“So you don’t know.”

“No.” He huffs. “I don’t know.”

You only yawn in response. There's a few minutes of silence that follow, the only noise being the tinny sounds of metal hitting metal as Soap disassembles his handgun and cleans it. The quiet is broken when a dull thump sounds from the kitchen. It’s so soft that if you didn’t have years of experience being constantly on edge with your eyes and ears peeled, you never would have noticed. You’re not the only one who heard it either. Ghost’s posture stiffened and Soap halted his movements. There’s a pregnant pause before there’s another soft thump. This time you all spring into action. Ghost moves first, bringing his gun up and disappearing down the hall towards the kitchen, you’re quick to follow with Soap on your heels. However, you aren’t able to get very far because the doorway into the kitchen is blocked by Ghost’s hulking frame.

“Ghost, what the fuck is it?” You hiss.

His responce is a little irked. “There’s a buncha fuckin’ cats in here.”

You and Soap are completely in sync as you lower your weapons and spit out a sharp, “What?”

Ghost simply moves further into the tiny kitchen and slides to the right so you can get a better look. Sitting on the white countertop are four kittens that couldn’t be more than a month or two old and on the floor, what you assume, are their mama and another kitten. The two thumps you’d heard were probably from them jumping from the counter to the ground. The mom wasn’t very old either, scrawny but not mangy. Naturally, she seemed apprehensive of the three of you, her ears pulled back and tail puffed up slightly but she didn’t seem aggressive. Of course, that could change the minute any of you got closer to one of her babies.

“There's so many.” Fighting the urge to walk right up and scoop each and every little ball of fur into your arms is almost physically impossible.

There’s a soft hmph from beside you as Soap puts his knife away, “How’d they get in?” He moves into the kitchen to stand beside Ghost. You don’t miss the careful way he walks, his steps are a little gentler than his normal stomping gait like he’s trying not to frighten the cats.

Ghost nods his head towards a paneless window directly above the sink, “There. Reckon we can scare them off and board it up.”

You scoff. “Why scare them off?” In the time you’d been standing and talking, the mom must have decided that none of you were a threat because she’d shifted from a defensive position to sitting and eyeing Soap curiously.

“They’re vermin,” is his deadpan reply.

“It’s a litter of kittens, not a buncha rats. Besides,” you gesture towards the other man in the room, “Suds over there doesn’t seem to mind.”

Soap was leaning over and running his gloved hand along the older cat’s back, and you could hear her purring from the handful of meters between you. His attention is pulled away when he angles his face up to glare at you but he never stops giving the cat affection. Seeing that their mother seemed to trust the new strangers, her kittens jumped off the counter to investigate.

Most of them made their way over to you, but the smallest one scampered over to Ghost. He merely glared down at its gray, fluffy face.

“Mom’s definitely a stray, there’s no way a feral cat would cozy up to someone like that. And I don’t think Soap is especially approachable.” As you speak, you bend at the waist and start pulling off your gloves. There was no way you were missing out on feeling them with your bare hands. “Babies are barely two months- their eyes are still blue.” After petting each- now incredibly rowdy- kitten, you take one in each hand and straighten. Immediately, you’re met with Soap’s quirked eyebrow and what you can only assume is Ghost’s stony expression. Your cheeks warm in embarrassment. “I worked as an assistant vet in high school!”

The two kittens you’d left on the floor swiftly turn their attention to Ghost. His eyes harden again as they run over to him and join the runt who hadn’t left his side, meowing as loud as their little lungs would allow.

Soap barks out a laugh at Ghost’s stiff posture. “You scared of a couple a’ cats L.T?”

“I don’t usually make it a habit to associate with pests.” The taller man eyes the kittens you’re holding. “Probably got rabies or something.”

You hold them tighter to your chest, at least as close as your tac vest would allow, like it’ll protect them from Ghost’s irritated glare. “Actually, it’s pretty rare for cats to-”

It's then that the cats sitting on the ground decide they’re sick of the mask-wearing man ignoring them and promptly launch themselves upward and cling to the worn denim of Ghost’s jeans. They begin climbing him like he’s some incredibly stoic, aloof tree and he flicks his eyes between you and Soap.

“Get them off.” He grunts.

Humming, you meet Soap’s eyes and pretend to think about it.

“No.” You and Soap say at the same time, once again in sync as you start to make your way out of the kitchen. Just as you turn on your heel to leave, you point at the ground near Ghost’s boot where the runt is still staring up at him, “And don’t forget the little one.”

It’s only a minute later when you hear someone muttering under their breath and the familiar heavy stomps of military-issued boots. As you set some of your gear on the beat-up coffee table you see Ghost turn into the room out of the corner of your eye. You have to fight a laugh when you see the two kittens still hanging onto his pants. Except, when you study the rest of him you notice that something is missing and you’re instantly turning around to tell him off for leaving the other kitten. Before you can manage, you’re interrupted by Soap’s bark of laughter.

“Never thought of you as a softie.” He says, a bit hypocritically if you might add since he has his now ungloved hand buried in the mom cat’s fur. She’d curled up there the second he had sat back down in his recliner.

You inspect Ghost again and this time you see what you miss; a little gray face peeking out of one of the bigger pockets on the chest of his tactical vest. This time you do laugh but you slap a hand over your mouth to stifle it.

Ghost’s glare jumps between you and Soap, “Say a word to anyone and I’ll gut you.”

#simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #soap x reader #john mactavish x reader #call of duty x reader #cod mw2 x reader #call of duty imagine #simon riley imagine #john mactavish imagine #this is stupid but that's the point #pinky promise

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dreaminginthedeepsouth · 8 days

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LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

April 21, 2024

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

APR 22, 2024

During her confirmation hearings in 2021, Interior Department secretary Deb Haaland promised “to responsibly manage our natural resources to protect them for future generations—so that we can continue to work, live, hunt, fish, and pray among them.” Noting her Indigenous heritage, Haaland tweeted, “A voice like mine has never been a Cabinet secretary or at the head of the Department of Interior…. I’ll be fierce for all of us, our planet, and all of our protected land.”

Her approach was a shift from the practice the Interior Department had established at the beginning of the twentieth century when it began to prioritize mineral, oil, and gas development, as well as livestock grazing, on U.S. public lands. But the devastating effects of climate change have brought those old priorities into question.

Republicans, especially those from states like Wyoming, which collects more than a billion dollars a year in royalties and taxes from the oil, gas, and coal produced on federal lands in the state, opposed Haaland’s focus on responsible management of natural resources for the future and warned that the Biden administration is “taking a sledgehammer to Western states’ economies.”

On Thursday, April 18, the Interior Department finalized a new rule for a balanced management of America’s public lands. Put together after a public hearing period that saw more than 200,000 comments from states, individuals, Tribal and local governments, industry groups, and advocacy organizations, the new rule prioritizes the health of the lands and waters the Interior Department’s Bureau of Land Management oversees. Those consist of about 245 million acres, primarily in 12 western states.

The new rule calls for protection of the land, restoration of the places that have been harmed in the past, and a promise to make informed decisions about future use based on “science, data, and Indigenous knowledge.” It “recognizes conservation as an essential component of public lands management, on equal footing with other multiple uses of these lands.” The Bureau of Land Management will now auction off leases not only for drilling, but also for conservation and restoration.

Western state leaders oppose the Biden administration’s efforts to change the Interior Department’s past practices, calling them “colonial forces of national environmental groups who are pushing an agenda” onto states like Wyoming.

The timing of the Interior Department’s new rule can’t help but call attention to Earth Day, celebrated tomorrow, on April 22. Earth Day is no novel proposition. Americans celebrated it for the first time in 1970. Nor was it a partisan idea in that year: Republican president Richard M. Nixon established it as Americans recognized a crisis that transcended partisanship and came together to fix it.

The spark for the first Earth Day was the 1962 publication of marine biologist Rachel Carson’s Silent Spring, which showed the devastating effects of people on nature by documenting the effect of modern pesticides on the natural world. Her exposé of how the popular pesticide DDT was poisoning the food chain in American waters illuminated the dangerous overuse of chemicals and their effect on living organisms, and it caught readers’ attention. Carson’s book sold more than half a million copies in 24 countries.

Democratic president John F. Kennedy asked the President’s Science Advisory Committee to look into Carson’s argument, and the committee vindicated her. Before she died of breast cancer in 1964, Carson noted: "Man's attitude toward nature is today critically important simply because we have now acquired a fateful power to alter and destroy nature. But man is a part of nature, and his war against nature is inevitably a war against himself? [We are] challenged as mankind has never been challenged before to prove our maturity and our mastery, not of nature, but of ourselves."

As scientists organized the Environmental Defense Fund, Americans began to pay closer attention to human effects on the environment, especially after three crucial events. First, on December 24, 1968, astronaut William Anders took a color photograph of the Earth rising over the horizon of the moon from outer space during the Apollo 8 mission, powerfully illustrating the beauty and isolation of the globe on which we all live.

Then, over 10 days in January and February 1969, a massive oil spill off the coast of Santa Barbara, California, poured between 80,000 and 100,000 barrels of oil into the Pacific, fouling 35 miles of California beaches and killing seabirds, dolphins, sea lions, and elephant seals. Public outrage ran so high that President Nixon went to Santa Barbara in March to see the cleanup efforts, telling the American public that “the Santa Barbara incident has frankly touched the conscience of the American people.”

And then, in June 1969, the chemical contaminants that had been dumped into Cleveland’s Cuyahoga River caught fire. A dumping ground for local heavy industry, the river had actually burned more than ten times in the previous century, but with increased focus on environmental damage, this time the burning river garnered national attention.

In February 1970, President Nixon sent to Congress a special message “on environmental quality.” “[W]e…have too casually and too long abused our natural environment,” he wrote. “The time has come when we can wait no longer to repair the damage already done, and to establish new criteria to guide us in the future.”

“The tasks that need doing require money, resolve and ingenuity,” Nixon said, “and they are too big to be done by government alone. They call for fundamentally new philosophies of land, air and water use, for stricter regulation, for expanded government action, for greater citizen involvement, and for new programs to ensure that government, industry and individuals all are called on to do their share of the job and to pay their share of the cost.”

Meanwhile, Gaylord Nelson, a Democratic senator from Wisconsin, visited the Santa Barbara oil spill and hoped to turn the same sort of enthusiasm people were bringing to protests against the Vietnam War toward efforts to protect the environment. He announced a teach-in on college campuses, which soon grew into a wider movement across the country. Their “Earth Day,” held on April 22, 1970, brought more than 20 million Americans—10% of the total population of the country at the time—to call for the nation to address the damage caused by 150 years of unregulated industrial development. The movement included members of all political parties, rich Americans and their poorer neighbors, people who lived in the city and those in the country, labor leaders and their employers. It is still one of the largest protests in American history.

In July 1970, at the advice of a council convened to figure out how to consolidate government programs to combat pollution, Nixon proposed to Congress a new agency, the Environmental Protection Agency, which Congress created that December.

In honor of Earth Day 2024, Democratic president Joe Biden has called for carrying on the legacy of our predecessors “by building a greener, more sustainable planet and, with it, a healthier, more prosperous nation.”

In a statement, Biden noted that no one can any longer deny the impacts and staggering costs of climate change as the nation confronts historic floods, droughts, and hurricanes.

“Deforestation, nature loss, toxic chemicals, and plastic pollution also continue to threaten our air, lands, and waters, endangering our health, other species, and ecosystems,” he said. He noted the administration’s efforts to build a clean energy economy, providing well-paid union jobs as workers install solar panels, service wind turbines, cap old oil wells, manufacture electric vehicles, and so on, while also curbing air pollution from power plants and lead poisoning from old pipes, the burden of which historically has fallen on marginalized communities.

Biden noted that he brought the U.S. back into the Paris Climate Accord Trump pulled out of, is on track to conserve more lands and waters than any president before him, and has worked with the international community to slash methane emissions and restore lost forests.

And yet there is much more to be done, he said. He encouraged “all Americans to reflect on the need to protect our precious planet; to heed the call to combat our climate and biodiversity crises while growing the economy; and to keep working for a healthier, safer, more equitable future for all.”

Happy Earth Day 2024.

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

#Heather Cox Richardson #earth day #history #Letters From An American #Conservation #natural resources #Interior Department #Silent Spring #Rachel Carson

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