#speckle cider

[acesandfairydust]

#ts3 #sims 3 #jaceic's game #cider random legacy #gen 7: bonsai moyogi cider #speckle cider

[whatifwekissedatneocity]

we both like apple cider . .

gakuen nakahara chuuya x gn reader. gakuen / school au. fluff. confused and in slight denial chuuya. based on his mayoi card

about: the delinquent who sits behind you in class is not sure about what to think of you, or how you think of him..

kiel notes: based on apple cider by bea my FAVVV song.. i wrote it in reader’s pov but changed it to chuuya’s cuz the confusion for him is so real. anyway hai i hope i cooked

it’s the confusion that gnaws at chuuya’s guts when he’s eighteen, and he looks at you with your head turned towards the window, eyes watching passing clouds. chuuya doesn’t even like you that much, but he wonders if it is so wrong to think about what it’ll feel like to touch your hair and hold your hand. even more apple cider bottles accumulate under his desk from lunch breaks with you, which makes him question why your hair smells like fruit punch instead (it should smell like apple cider). he presses the cold drink to your cheeks to get your attention when you daydream, and he scoffs playfully when you smack his shoulder in annoyance. he kicks your chair in class to ask for an eraser and see your face (he refuses to get a new eraser just to piss you off). you work quietly on a maths question you don’t quite understand, but that’s alright because he’s there to explain it to you (while he taps your forehead with a pen with every dumb question asked). he stares at you, and you stare at him. wordless confessions spill out of him as the sunset paints the classroom an orange hue, highlighting your speckled face.

it’s really nice to talk to you, often in the sunset on the way home, with an apple cider bottle in hand. confessing and confronting feelings he’s not quite sure of, afraid of what you think of him. why would he ruin this tender friendship when spending time with you now feels so safe? so comfortable? even if you’re just frenemies (or friends?), you could be more than that. maybe it’s easier to put those feelings on paper when he writes your name with hearts and doodles your pouty face beside it. chuuya hides his feelings in those empty apple cider bottles, but he’s sure to give this thing between you and him a try.

main menu ☆

#kiel serves.. 🍮 #had this in mind for years #bsd #bsd headcanons #bungo stray dogs headcanons #bungou stray dogs imagines #bsd chuuya #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #nakahara chuuya x reader #bsd chuuya x reader fluff #bsd chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya headcanons #chuuya nakahara #nakahara chuuya #chuuya imagine #chuuya x reader fluff #chuuya x reader

[shesjustanothergeek]

His Love

|Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!Reader|

Part Eighteen

Masterlist of Series

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

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

Chapter Warnings: Ableism, implied sex slavery.

"scream 

so that one day a

hundred years from now

another sister will not have to dry her tears 

wondering where in history 

she lost her voice."

- Jasmin Kaur

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Opening the tightly sealed case, you took a breath.

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

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

'For my sweet boy, Aegon.'

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your family.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Masterlist of Series

Spotify Playlist

YouTube Playlist

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

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

#aegon the second #aegon ii #house of the dragon #aegon targaryen ii #aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #aegon ii fanfic #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon ii x reader #game of thrones #aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen x you #aegon x you #hotd aegon #tom glynn carney #aegon ii fic #aegon ii x you #aegon ii smut #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aegon ii x y/n #helaena targaryen #princess helaena #hotd fanfic #hotd #hotd aemond

[k-atsukibakugou]

Mercury your event is SO cute I’m actually obsessed! I’m such a beer girlie, but if I had to pick a drink it’s gotta be a jägerbomb! And for the character you pick because I want you to be as free as possible I’m ready for anything👀

ehehehe i was a lil cheeky with this one, i leaned more into the leave you wanting more vibe with the jagerbomb also im sorry for the lack of beer i've never met a beer or cider i've liked LMAO i was going to make this endeavor but the more i wrote it the more it worked better with bakugou but i hope u like it!! teehee birthday bash intro + rules + menu | event masterlist

anyone who wasn’t a couple jagerbombs deep could tell you how bad of an idea jagerbombs are at an work party, but when you work at one of the most popular bars in musutafu, it’s more a rite of passage.

not even here a year, your work-best friend was the very first to inform you of the notorious annual work party, how messy they get, how she’d gone home with the chef one year, and how many servers had crashed in the booths over the years. finally, the time had come for the party, your friend already abandoning you to flirt with the chef again, although, you couldn’t play the morally high act about it when all your attention was on your boss behind the counter.

walking behind the bar, you perused the liquor on offer, mostly mid-tier stuff, but god, did the imported stuff look good right about now, something smooth to take your mind off of him. fuck, why’d he have to roll his sleeves up like that? his forearm muscles enough to make you wonder what else lies beneath that damn shirt, an endless expanse of muscles underneath a wife-pleaser singlet, thick thighs caged in his expensive slacks.

“need some help?” lost in your daydream, bakugou is beside you before you realise how long you’ve been ogling him, your indecisive daze in front of the alcohol drawing his attention (any excuse to talk to you, really). you’re nowhere near drunk enough for him to be this close, to get this messy. yet.

“you don’t have my beer on tap.” his eyes nearly roll back at your sweet tone, your gentle teasing that’s been driving him up the wall for months. he stays steadfast, dark garnet eyes unwavering, despite the top you’d worn specifically for them to wander.

“let me make it up to you,” he takes another step closer, the expensive scent of his cologne filling your lungs when he reaches around you for the distinct green bottle, trapping you between his biceps for a fleeting moment, “we’ll do something i used to have in my party days.”

grabbing two pint glasses and two shot glasses, you watch him work with the kind of swiftness and expertise decades behind a bar could give a man, every twist of his wrist calculates, not a single drop of jagermeister or redbull spilling, even when the latter threatened to bubble over the top of the glass.

“you used to do jagerbombs?” you can’t help but sound incredulous, your eyebrows shooting up to your hairline when you accept the drink from him. mesmerised as he pours his own, you try to imagine him younger, chugging back the bomb, swallowing shot after shot, stumbling home in the am. even in your daydream, his hair had speckles of salt through the blond of his hair, the silver fox look worked too well for him to see him any other way.

“why are you so shocked? i was twenty once.”

“it’s hard to imagine you… like that.”

“like what?”

“you know, a party animal, i can only see you drinking bourbon on the rocks.” he chuckles at the memories, of sleepless nights, of horrendous hangovers.

“i could still drink you under the table.” he challenges, already reaching to pour another, you try not to laugh in his face, the image of your all-powerful boss drunk and stumbling was something you’d pay to see. with a smile you could only describe as evil, hot, you clinked your drink with his before knocking it back, “sure you can, old man.”

after too many bombs, an assortment of other shots, some cocktail bakugou poured you and a sip (you weren’t game enough to have more of it, there’s a reason you weren’t a bartender) of the one you poured him, the pair of you stumbled into his office at the back of the bar. half the buttons are undone on his shirt, your hands sliding beneath the hem of his shirt even when he pulled away from you long enough to unlock the door, pulling you inside with him and nudge it closed once more before turning all his attention back to you; the way you stared up at him with glassy eyes, the way your lipstick smudged under your bottom lip, how your chest heaved (the way your tits looked when you did), how your dress rode up when you pulled yourself onto his desk, tugging him in by his belt loops.

he can’t even find it in him to care about the time-sheets crinkling under your ass when you bite your lip, can’t care you’re his employee and his mind goes blank of everything when you wrap your thighs around his hips. fuck, you’re irresistible like this; arching into him, kissing and biting his jaw, one hand tugging your dress further up your thighs, the other working off his belt to slide into his slacks, searching for more and more, more he wants to give you.

you’re just so, so, so hot… and he’s soft. he’s fucking soft. he finally has you under him and he can’t get it up.

let’s hope the alcohol buzzing through your blood is enough to clear your memory of this in the morning.

#mercurys birthday bash #「mercury answers」 #「jo <3」 #「kat <3」 #「mercury writes」 #tw: alcohol #bakugou drabble #bakugo drabble #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader

[desertdollranch]

It has become an annual tradition for me to help Antonia put together her farmer's market booth, where she sells all of the fruits, vegetables, and homemade goods that her family's community farm has produced over the past year. Every year, the harvest brings more and more goods. But this autumn, she has outgrown the farmer's market, and is now selling at a roadside stand!

Antonia is ten years old in 1978, when she is inspired by the American Indian Movement to help establish a community farm on land her family owns. It's been a huge success. It has strengthened bonds between friends and neighbors as they all care for each other and make sure that nobody goes hungry.

Whatever is left over after everyone is fed, is then sold at the roadside stand. Antonia is also supplementing with a few special handmade extras that help bring in a little more money. The money will help pay for everything needed to help Snow Mountain Farm grow bigger and better.

Antonia is so proud of what the fields and orchards have grown.

Just look at the size of some of these pumpkins!

Under the cut, Antonia will give you an up-close look at what she's selling....

Everything seen here was either made by me, harvested from the wild, or purchased. (See if you can guess which ones were handmade/bought/gathered!)

The gourd and squash harvest was abundant this year. Antonia managed to coax the garden into producing a few giant pumpkins.

Lots of other fruits thrived as well!

Pears are new this year.

Beautiful pink plums are also new.

Apples are a returning favorite. There are three varieties this year: sweet yellow apples, tart green apples, and a red striped variety that has its own unique flavor.

In the front row are apples, plums, chiles, and pears. On the shelf there are fresh flowers and packaged seeds, various fruit jams, honey, apple cider, dried ground herbs, potted herb seedlings, packaged seeds, and bottles of apple cider.

Up on the shelf there are several varieties of jam: rose petal, peach, grape, prickly pear, and strawberry. Next to them is honey that the farm's bees made from the local wildflowers. The apple cider is made from apples grown in the farm's orchard.

One particular farmer is very gifted in the art of raising flowers. Here you can buy fresh cut flowers, or seedlings for your own garden.

Fruit and vegetable seedlings or seeds are also for sale.

On the checkout counter, Antonia is selling popcorn and apple cider donuts. Directly below the donuts are cartons of eggs, which include white, brown, and speckled eggs.

Below the checkout counter is the small shelf offering some smaller items. In the plastic bags are freshly made tamales, which are like dumplings of meat, veggies, beans, or cheese mixed with a corn dough and steamed inside corn husks. To the right are two wheels of goat's milk cheese. In the middle are skeins of yarn dyed with natural sources, like prickly pear fruits and cabbage leaves. Next to those are bars of soap, in sagebrush or rose petal scent. And on the right end of the shelf are bagged pine nuts, gathered from the wild.

Below that is more produce! On the left, colored corn. In the crates there are potatoes, cherries, strawberries, tomatoes, peaches, and cauliflower.

Antonia is especially proud of the fancy colored corn she has grown. It's fun to open the ears and see what colors the kernels are!

Next to that are giant sunflowers. Above that are the pretty gourds and squashes.

On the bench are some lovely watermelons. And surrounding those are even more pumpkins and squash!

These, too, emerged in all sorts of different colors and shapes. Antonia lets the different varieties cross pollinate, so that the appearances of the resulting pumpkins are a surprise.

Thanks for stopping by! Here, take a sunflower home with you!

#antonia snow-flores #doll crafts #historicaloc

[justalonelyslytherin]

under the mistletoe

A 1.3k words long 'My Kingdom, Your Kingdom' Christmas present. Merry Christmas everyone <3

The village was beautiful. Everywhere she looked, she was fascinated by the cozy, homely space. There was not one spot left without decoration, beautiful lights, and garlands with ornaments strung everywhere. Every window was illuminated, cut-out snowflakes and other motifs pinned to them. 

And the smell. Coming from every nearby store, a sweet and aromatic smell wafted through the streets. Like hot chocolate, cider, and the local sweets Steve had introduced to her not long ago. Her lips still tasted like the frosted confections, the fruity flavor of various jams left behind on her tongue. 

Her face grew warm at the memory of Steve wiping away a dusting of powdered sugar from her bottom lip. It was as if his touch lingered there, the feeling of a comfortable prickling in her stomach.

Now they were walking around aimlessly, taking in the beautiful scenery in the old center. Snow covered the roofs of the surrounding buildings thickly, yet the walkways were free. Little speckles of thawing salts dusted the cobblestone pathways. 

“What is that?” Curiosity piqued, her feet carried her to a small alcove-looking stone structure. As she came closer, it turned out to be a small archway and not an alcove. The sound of running water could be heard from the other end.

“Where is it going to?” She turned towards Steve, who had patiently followed her as she ran from one side to the other, no apparent path in mind, wandering to whatever interested her next. His nose had grown pinkish in color from the cold, the barest dusting of red on his cheeks was hidden beneath the thick beard. When Yelena had compared him to a lumberjack earlier that morning he had grown red too, which had only enticed the young blonde to teasingly call him a ‘ruddy bear’.

Now Steve looked at her with warmth, the soft smile on his lips pursed for a moment as he thought about it. “I think at the end is an observation point for the river. It crosses through the village just up front.”

Her eyes lit up at the thought of it. Noticing it, Steve chuckled and cocked his head to the side, “Want to go look?”

Moments later they walked side by side through the dim archway. The sound of the water got louder and louder until at the end the path opened up to a semicircular lookout, not of a simple river but a small waterfall. In the middle of the village.

It was a magnificent sight, even something as ordinary as this had her fascinated. She felt like a small child, discovering the world outside the castle for the first time. Pressed against the stone and metal railing, her hands clasped around the intricately twisted rails, she eyed the water. Steam rose where the rush met the body of water beneath it, ice floes drifting on the surface not far away.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” 

Steve, who had stepped beside her, didn’t react. 

“Steve?” 

The blonde, instead of watching the pretty view, was focused on something above them. As her eyes followed, she noticed a small green twig with pale berries and a red bow attached in the middle of the arch.

“What’s that?”

“It’s a Mistletoe,” he answered finally, his voice sounded strangely shy.  She had heard of the name before, a memory on the tip of her tongue. Only when his blushing became more apparent and caught her eye, she remembered.

“There’s this tradition-”

“I know,” she softly called out, nibbling on her bottom lip.

“We don’t have to if you– if it makes you uncomfortable.”

Shaking her head, she heard him give a small surprised yelp. With furrowed brows, she looked up once more. “It’s bad luck to refuse it. At least in Widovia, it is widely believed that doing so will bring misfortune.”

She was well aware that her insistence concluded that they’d have to share a kiss, something she wasn’t sure about either. Suddenly just as shy, she averted her eyes downwards, her fingers came together to tug at one another.

“I understand,” his voice was silky smooth and soft as could be, as his finger lifted her chin. The softness with which he always rendered her, sprouted butterflies in her stomach. An encouraging smile had replaced his previously timid features.

“A kiss is a kiss, right? It’s not stated where it has to be placed.” She nodded, although she couldn’t quite catch what he meant.

“This means a kiss to the cheek should suffice. I think we can both agree to that and it won’t be awkward afterward.”

So that’s what he meant. The nervous ball of energy dissipated from her chest, a nod all she needed to confirm. Yet there remained a bout of disappointment, a pebble of sourness in the pit. Why did she feel rejected?

Steve leaned down towards her, now with an almost boyish grin as he angled his face, presenting her with his bearded cheek. Laughter bubbled in her chest, albeit dimmed by the bitter feeling left behind. Even with him leaning down she had to push up on her toes to reach him properly. 

His beard was surprisingly soft beneath her lips – she’d always imagined beards to be itchy and prickly like needles – tickling her ever so slightly. Steve drew in a sharp breath at the ever-so-soft contact, his heart tripled in his chest, warmth threatening to tint his face a deeper shade of red. As innocent a gesture as it was it left him feeling dizzy and giddy. He felt sheepish to feel like this, awkward, and fearing to take advantage of her. It took all the restraint in him to not turn his head and steal a proper kiss from her. 

Oh how desperately he wanted to buckle down and press his lips against her, for a kiss he’d been unconsciously longing for ever since he first laid his eyes on her. Closed for the briefest moments he now opened his eyes again as she pulled back.

There she stood beside him, a little flustered, with blown pupils and her fingers nimbly touching her lips.

As bitter cold as the weather had been outside, Steve didn’t feel cold anymore. He wanted to kiss her, to feel the softness of her lips on his - for her lips certainly must be heavenly plush, and kissable.

The simple contact of lip to cheek had electrified the both of them, unknown to one another they longed for the same thing. Rooted to the spot she stood, unable to avert her eyes from his blue ones. The normally crystalline color was clouded. He seemed to be stuck in contemplation, his irises shaking as he wagered in his mind until at last, his lids dropped and together with them his gaze.

Contemplation transformed into certainty. A decision had been made and he would act according to it. And acting he now did.

Steve took an impossible step closer, their shoes bumped against one another. As close as they were now the subtle hint of his perfume wafted over to her. It was a sweet note, something that ensnared her senses even more with him.

Leaning even closer, nose to nose now, his breath ghosted along her lips and all she wanted was for them to meet. One last glance deep into her eyes and what both of them had longed for so deeply happened.

A timid kiss at first, seconds ticked by in which their lips were slotted against one another unmoving, pressed together almost shyly as they gained control and focus. Then, moving in unison, their lips moved against one another like cogs in a machine, fitting so perfectly as if they were made for this single purpose alone. Arms followed in a shared embrace, fingers grabbing at the fabric of coats, smoothing along the lines of flesh and body. 

Around them the world quieted down, narrowing impossibly onto them and the small waterfall quietly going on in the background.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #my kingdom your kingdom #steve rogers imagine #king!steve rogers x heir apparent!reader #christmas au #steve rogers fluff #merry christmas!

[diggingupgrave]

Magnificently Cursed... the blog post ✨

🕰🍂🕯🌿📔🧣🌙

My writing log says it’s been exactly a year since I started writing Magnificently Cursed, my Dark Academia Inuokko Magic School AU! I find summer to be insufferable (my apologies to the sun) so I took an escape hatch to an early fall last year and immediately fell down this massive rabbit hole. Not only did I write the whole fic and make overly-intricate graphics for each chapter… I also made a ton of other content that I simply didn’t have enough time to post! (Fall is but one season… unless you’re me, and it’s two, because fuck summer) So as a little anniversary gift to me, I’m going back through the archives and finally putting everything in one place. 

Let’s start with the character mood boards, shall we? 

Toge Inumaki: 

I wanted Toge to have an earthy/natural, vintage-y feel, while Yuuta was all sleek and new. I’m still completely obsessed with this library-lizard aesthetic for Toge.

I low-key wound up buying a brown sweater after searching online for literal hours just like the one in the upper left so we could twin. That duffle coat still has my whole heart. Lavender mug inspired by Neara 🥺

Yuuta Okkotsu:

The lil ghostie patch 😭 I still think Yuuta would look hot as hell in all these clothes- especially the speckle-y fisherman sweater. Coat game is strong here as well. 

... so is it obvious that I spend too much time on Canva yet? 😅

The Timeline: 

My outline wasn’t outlining and I resorted to making an in-world calendar to make sure the dates were realistic. Each chapter is a different color, and the lines represent what days the chapters covered in-world. The corresponding stars represented each chapter’s posting dates… except the real life dates didn’t line up with the fictional dates (rude), so those thursdays were actually saturdays? I think? I'm actually not 100% sure what past me was up to here, to be totally honest 😅

(also, politely ignore that bit that says “epilogue - december” 💀i’ll get to it when i get to it. I don’t really like the idea of it being *over* so maybe i'll just gatekeep that bit forever)

⬆️ Example of aforementioned “outlining,” which, yes, is unfortunately littered with as many potential tweets as actual organization 💀

Not pictured: the outline for the first three chapters… when i thought this fic… would only *be* three chapters. 🪦

Writing Log:

I wrote all 92k between July 13th and September 13th (including 60k in August, nanowrimo style)!

Honestly would love to know what her regimen was because i immediately went back to being slow and undisciplined. I don’t foresee this coming august looking anything like this, lol.

Also, sidenote, hilarious that I took a break to work on it would make a whole in the middle of this? Because I literally just finished that piece this week and posted it today 😅

The Playlist:

Spotify proving that July 13th commitment! If you start a wip without procrastinating and making a playlist for two hours first... did you really start a new wip?

The playlist was three and a half hours and i would listen to it nearly every day, sometimes multiple times in a day 💀. Listen during a rainstorm for peak vibes.

(other favs not pictured: The Butterflly Effect’s cover of “Lay All Your Love on Me,” Sabrina Carpenter’s “Decode,” Liz Longley’s “Rescue My Heart,” and "Nothing's Gonna Happen" by The Staves) 

Bonus:

(fall baking... toge's fav pumpkin muffins of course)

(my toge sweater knockoff)

(editing buddy... clearly working very hard)

(cider donut cider... for the ✨vibes✨)

(obsessively drinking massive pots of harney and son’s victorian london fog tea as i tried to interpret my own bullshit)

(me celebrating actual halloween like i didn't start in july)

.... ANYWAY (if you made it this far 😅) many thanks to anyone who read/kudos/commented/supported this fic, because (if you can't tell already) i had so much fun writing it.

Currently, working on another longfic rn that's also promising to destroy my life... but you never forget your first 😘

#jujutsu kaisen #toge inumaki #yuuta okkotsu #inuokko #dark acamedia

[libraryofmoths]

Moth of the Week

Comet Moth

Argema mittrei

TW: Trypophobia for pictures

The comet moth or the Madagascan moon moth was first described in 1847 by Félix Édouard Guérin-Méneville. This moth is a part of the Saturniidae family and is one of the largest silk moths. This species receives its genus name Argema, meaning 'speckled eye' in Greek, from the large eyespots on its forewings and hindwings. Additionally, the name comet moth comes from their long hindwing tails.

Description The comet moth has large yellow wings with magenta patterns by the head, at the tips and outer margin of the forewings, the top and bottom of the hindwings, and the stem of the hindwing tails. Furthermore, the top edge of the forewings, outer edge of the hindwings, and both sides of the tail are outlined in black. Each of the hindwings and the forewings have large magenta and orange eyespots also outlined in black. The final touch on the wings are white accents by the head and in the eyespots. The body of the comet moth is yellow or a yellow-orange with the top of the legs matching then fading to black. They also have orange antennae.

Females have more rounded wings and larger bodies for egg laying

Average male wingspan: 20 cm (≈7.9 in)

Average male tail span of 15 cm (≈5.9 in)

The males have a longer, more feathery antennas than the females to pick up mating pheromones

Males have longer, thinner tails while females have shorter, thicker ones

Diet and Habitat This moth’s diet and host plants include the smoke tree, the marula tree, the Brazilian peppertree, and the cider gum tree. Most sources say adult moths do not feed because of their inability to use their shrunken mouths. Comet moths are native to Madagascar and nowhere else in the world. Their natural habitat are the Madagascan rainforests. However, they can and have been bred in captivity. Today due to habitat loss, their range is limited to the rainforests located south and east of Madagascar’s capital.

Mating Female moths release and pheromone to attract male mates, who fly to find them. After mating, the females lay 120 to 170 eggs on the host plants that will hatch into caterpillars in 10 to 20 days.

Predators Chameleons, geckos, bats, and birds prey on comet moths. To combat this, the comet moth uses its colors to camouflage itself. Additionally, it uses its long tails to mess with a bat’s echolocation and cause it to attack the tails instead of the moth’s vulnerable body. Furthermore, this species has the ability to use ultrasound absorption so the bat’s echo will come back fainter, and the moth is harder to “see.”Finally, the wing’s eyespots are used to fool predators into thinking the comet moth is a more dangerous animal. The largest current threat to comet moths are humans, and this moth is now endangered sure to habitat loss.

Fun Fact This moth used to be on the 1000 Malagasy ariary banknote.

(Source: Wikipedia, AZ Animals, Natural History Museum UK, The Company of Biologists, Moth Identification)

#animals #facts #insects #libraryofmoths #bugs #moth #mothoftheweek #lepidoptera #comet moth #madagascan moon moth #late post #sorry #tw: trypophobia #Argema mittrei #Saturniidae

[coldshrugs]

staring up

pairing: io/estinein word count: 900 note: this wasn't actually supposed to be sad but io's tragic backstory leaked in. inspired by this cute art of cartoon ducks.

Mor Dhona is surprisingly cold tonight; a northern wind blows down from Coerthas and carries the promise of snow. Tataru spent the day decorating the Rising Stones in shining Starlight baubles, and Ephemie mulled enough apple cider to fill even the farthest reaches of their base with the scent of cinnamon.

Winter is around the corner.

The chill in the air does nothing to deter Io's plans. She waits by the aetheryte, wrapped in a thick fleece blanket and holding two steaming mugs of cider. Neither warmth compares to the giddiness burning in her chest.

She's early, impatient to see him. If she has to guess, Estinien will account for this. And maybe she hopes, just a little, he's longed to see her too.

The air before her shimmers and sparks white-blue, and there he is, not at all dressed for the weather but wearing a knowing grin.

Estinien strides the few paces between them, kisses her temple (too far from her lips), and says, "And here I thought you might surprise me, Io."

The retort about the measurability of his own actions is lost as he takes a mug and her free hand. "Now, where are you taking me for this "star watching?""

"Gazing," she corrects. "And there's an overlook not far from here that should be perfect. This meteor shower is expected to be one of the most active Eorzea has seen in some time."

They exit the settlement, carefully balancing their drinks as they climb the rocky ridge. Jagged crystals poke through the soil at odd angles, glowing softly along their path. It's less than arduous, but their hands remain entwined until they reach their destination.

The cliff is unassuming from the main road, secluded enough that they won't be disturbed. Estinien slows as they near the precipice, caught off guard by the view. The land below them, around them, is alight with crystals echoing the same bright blue as the Crystal Tower stretching into a cloudless sky speckled with winter constellations. Silvertear Lake reflects it all like a dark, glittering mirror, marred only by the silhouette of the Agrius and Midgardsormr coiled around it.

Io tears her eyes away from Estinien's surprise in time to catch the tail of a meteor streaking across the sky.

"Come." She tugs his hand. "Let's sit."

They settle down just before the cliff's edge, Io sitting between his legs, her back against Estinien's chest. She's turned slightly to make conversation easier, and one of his knees bends upward to support her. The blanket wraps around their shoulders, not wide enough to fully cocoon them both. Neither complain; the wind whipping across the overlook is an excuse to inch that much closer.

The shower starts slowly, a lone star winking across the heavens here and there, but soon the night sky is radiant with them. They point one out, following its sparkling descent only to miss the next. 

Io sips the last of her cider and places the empty cup next to Estinien’s. Her hand falls to his raised knee. "Do they wish upon stars in Ishgard? Or is it considered blasphemous?"

"Blasphemous? Against what?" Estinien meets her eye, and his confusion is earnest.

"The Holy See's church. Or perhaps the astrologians don't like it. I'm not sure, Estinien, but Ishgard is not exactly whimsical."

His laugh is rough and short as his fingers twist into her hair. "Is Dalmasca?" He watches her watching the sky. The attention is welcome and comfortable.

"More than Ishgard, yes." She nudges him with her elbow. She thinks to tell him about decorating her village in a whirl of color for summer festivals that lasted days, or racing from tree to tree with her siblings, grabbing ripe fruits along the way as a prize for the winner. Perhaps, the evenings when the entire community gathered to eat, sing, and be together because they could?

She goes quiet in his arms, thinking of her last day in her homeland. Loose dirt flying into the air with each explosion. Red all around her, fire and blood. The fear in her younger siblings’ eyes, even as they looked at her with unconditional trust, and the gnawing in her gut that, in the end, their trust was misplaced. That last day makes all the other memories too sore to share. She tries to keep the ache out of her voice. "I can't account for the more recent changes."

“Look at me,” Estinien says, and she does. His expression is serious, his eyes soft. “We are far from that place. Those places. The scars serve as a reminder of what was lost. They prove, too, that wounds do heal. We’ll talk about our first homes someday.”

Io bites her lip to stop her eyes from watering, and she nods. Her face turns to the sky and the beautiful lights cutting across deep blue, but her attention is on Estinien’s arms pulling her into his warmth. His chin is on her shoulder, and he kisses her jaw. She reaches up to stroke his cheek, and he sighs into the touch. They’re quiet for a long time.

So long, in fact, that the meteor shower slows and Io assumes it’s reached its end. One last star bursts to life, brighter than most of the others. This evening's incandescent punctuation.

"You should make a wish before it goes."

He squeezes her tightly.

"Let it go. I have no need."

#azia writes #io laithe #io/estinien #love to post a fic at 1am and run #ANYWAYYYYYYY i'm sick and ill about them #i feel like i'm swinging wildly out of character but like. estinio's whole vibe is comfy domestic softness and a sprinkle of healing #plus it's always that good shit when one of them is sort of grumpy or short with most other people but just. a puddle for their love #and i like to think they're both far more open with each other than they can be around other people #but there are still some things they can't talk about. even if they understand #idk idk I'M JUST SHRUGGING. they're spinning violently in my mind what else am i meant to say #BYE

[professorfranz]

Blue Cheese Coleslaw This crunchy slaw bursts with flavor. Shredded cole slaw mix is perked up by the delicious pairing of red grapes and a tangy, blue cheese speckled dressing. 1 package shredded coleslaw mix, 1 cup mayonnaise, 2 tablespoons white sugar, 2 tablespoons cider vinegar, 1/4 cup prepared Dijon-style mustard, 2 cups seedless red grapes halved, 1/2 cup shredded carrot, 1/3 cup crumbled blue cheese

#blue cheese coleslaw #carrot #salad #pairing #dressing #grapes #cole slaw mix

[acesandfairydust]

Speckle stopped by for a visit!

#ts3 #sims 3 #jaceic's game #cider random legacy #gen 7: bonsai moyogi cider #speckle cider

[insouciantrambling]

Amongst my 3am thoughts were a illusionary depiction of a past, vivid detail.

Cinnamon, spices and warmth wafted across your nose as yow are greeted at the door by sights of effete leaves in autumn tones of golden amber, blood oranges to speckled browns and dark greens. Aware of the noise, the low buzzing of the insects nearby the pond. The scents of the cafés meets the noticeable sounds of humms and chirps as you take in a deep breath of your surroundings and let out the stress of your day. You as the colorful foliage falls drifting back in the wind onto the autumn floor, take a sip of warm cider by the fire to warm up from a long seasons work.

It's alright to absorb the surroundings and stay a moment. Notice the autumn breeze and warm feeling across your skin as you sit.

#imaginative play #artistic imagination #hypnosis #hypnotized #autumn

[belafeldberg]

Spicy Southwestern Slaw This is a spicy, flavorful coleslaw speckled with diced jalapenos, red bell pepper and cilantro. salt and pepper to taste, 1 carrot shredded, 2 tablespoons apple cider vinegar, 1 onion diced, 1 tablespoon chopped fresh cilantro, 1 jalapeno pepper seeded and diced, 3 cups shredded cabbage, 1/2 cup canola oil, 1 tablespoon white sugar, 1 teaspoon cayenne pepper, 1 red bell pepper diced

#spicy southwestern slaw #tex-mex #entree #tacos #hint

[mephicchi]

/A small brown and speckled feather falls out of the letter once unfolded./

Dearest Barkeep,

I fear I must apologise for my tardiness today. I had hoped to get this letter in your office before you left for the Drunken Knight this evening. Alas, I was delayed.

I don't know how you sleep with all these knights stomping about all hours of the night. I must admit I considered stealing a peek inside your bedchambers at this late hour. You can imagine how quickly I had to shelve that curiosity for another night.

But there's no need to be dramatic, sir knight, I've no desire to bring about your end before your time. At least not of my own desire. Keep pouring the drinks and you'll be safe within my company. You wrote of your fondness for roses and so I tucked one away for you to find, consider it a gesture of goodwill.

You'll be disappointed to discover I'm not really one for books. I perused over your collection during my time gallivanting about in your office as you've noticed. It's all a little too dreary for my tastes. I'm much more fond of absorbing stories the traditional way, through oral means or directly written, such as the charming little letters a certain delivery moogle drops off for me to find. You could consider myself a people person, of sorts, but even that I hesitate to say with any surety.

If I really must engage in some form of open combat I would prefer to poke my enemies full of holes from a particularly healthy distance. And if that fails to stop them in their tracks you might have already discovered my ulterior means of doing so, albeit much more unsavoury. An honourable knight would hardly approve of such methods, so I'll spare you the details and let you keep your honour intact for fraternizing with a disgrace such as mineself. But really, I prefer to avoid open conflicts. It leaves a poor taste in my mouth that even the strongest ale spring water cannot wash out.

And for your last question. I am a simple creature, my friend, and I grow bored swiftly in idleness. Break-ins are but one method for myself to alleviate the tension of boredom. Don't think I haven't noticed you are enjoying the mystery surrounding our exchange too. Else you would simply put aside this chocobo scratching and be about your business. I, for one, am appreciative that you haven't.

My turn. Where did you spend your youth? You must have at least one fond memory from a time long passed.

Goodnight, sweet knight.

/The letter is dropped off together with a small package, the package contains a small bottle labeled "Spring water", it is filled with what seems to be Spiced Cider/

Once again I greet you, my peculiar acquaintance,

you are so very adamant about your appreciation of "Spring water" that it seems you rarely drink anything else, therefore I dared to send along a niche beverage that I thought you should try.

Your answers sound so very truthful, yet in the last letter I was advised to take them all with a grain of salt, nevertheless I would not be surprised if you simply said that to throw me off.

I do not make it a secret that I enjoy this shrouded exchange, in fact I can tell you without issue that I get a little excited whenever I discover a letter of yours, it is like discovering a clue that leads me closer and closer to solving a long unsolved mystery, perhaps I should have entertained the thought of becoming a detective, but the time for that is long over.

Now to answer your question, I spent my youth in the Brumes of Ishgard, back then fortunately not as cold as they are nowadays, my father had been stripped of his position as a Temple Knight after he had lost the ability to fight due to a grieve injury, and my mother left not long after my birth, most people would say it was a harsh childhood, but it had its moments. As I was getting closer and closer to adulthood, my father managed to turn in a favor with a former colleague of his and got me the opportunity to enlist in the ranks of the Temple knights, an offer I could obviously not refuse, especially considering my life up to that point. If I was to choose one particular fond memory to tell you of, it'd be of the day I completed my training and was officially knighted at the young age of 19, not belonging to a noble house of Ishgard and having been homeless until not long before that day, it was the moment I knew that my life had reached a turning point, and well, look at where I am now. I apologize if this letter seems a bit like the ramblings of a tired old man, but today has been quite exhausting and I still feel yesterdays shift weigh in on my body, therefore I will probably not work at Starfall today, a dear friend of mine returns to the Café again today and will have his first shift after what feels like a century, so I will let him have the limelight and simply relax in my office during that time. With utmost respect and admiration for your abilities, Mephiston Godefroy

#Mephiston

[honeycloveswrites]

autumn

The time for sugar, spice, and auburn dust

The sidewalk speckled cinnamon and sweet

By leaves that flake off trees like pastry crust

Fog floating like steam from a fresh baked treat

And through the air the bitter wind does slice

A pie knife cutting clean with every gust

I bake by fires when air turns to ice

My sweater knitted crimson, gold, and rust

But now I can’t avoid the stinging smoke

That clogs the room and fills my eyes with tears

That spill like milk and honey jars I broke

When I’m alone my thoughts become my fears

Oh, so much better would this evening be

If you were drinking cider here with me

#autumn #fall #cozy #love #sonnet

[crispyblondemoved]

( ミ☆ open

     she was buzzing with excitement over the cooler weather that was starting to take over. with a white sweater speckled with an orange floral print and a new extremely soft fleece blanket decorated with leaves she was feeling extra cozy, but that might have partly been the spiked cider talking. ❝ we should go somewhere really gorgeous when the leaves start changing. but for tonight binge watching and more of this cider will have to do.  ❞

#⋰˚☆ i could scream forever ˗ˏˋ opens ˎˊ˗ #[jess loves all seasons #excessively for their own reasons but she's also #just a cliched fall bitch]