#Nutty bliss

[parveens-kitchen]

A Perfect Pairing - Apple with Crunchy Peanut Butter

When it comes to evening snacks, we often find ourselves torn between satisfying our cravings and staying healthy. Luckily, there’s a delightful solution that strikes the perfect balance between taste and nutrition – the classic combination of apple slices with crunchy peanut butter. In this blog post, we’ll dive into the reasons why this duo makes for an ideal evening snack and explore some…

[sopebubbles]

Master List

Sixteen

Synopsis: in a world where alphas, betas, and omegas live along side modern humans as second class citizens, you've fallen through the cracks of a society that wants to take everything wonderful from you. Luckily a timely encounter with the boys just might save your life.

Chapter summary: getting closer with the pack means you'll have to learn to live with Kim Namjoon.

Warnings: drinking, breaking things, yknow namjoon stuff.

WC: 7.6K

After both your heats, you and Hoseok were nearly inseparable. When you were home, you followed him around like a little puppy, and he absolutely adored it. He appreciated how well you had taken care of his home and everyone in it while he was off his feet. When he told you as much, you assured him that it was your pleasure, and you would gladly do any chores he needed from you. 

But your housework wasn't the only thing Hoseok had come to love.

You had become his new favorite cuddle buddy, much to your tiny pack's annoyance. Any time he could get his arms around you, he'd have you settled right against him with a proud smile on his face. And you certainly weren't complaining. You'd never known that omegas' cuddles were the best. Soft and warm and sweet smelling. Being held by Hobi was bliss. You wouldn't admit it to anyone, but you felt a bit of jealousy every time you scented Jin's sweet, nutty smell on Hoseok's skin, knowing that he had gotten to hold your omega all night long.

It wasn't until you came home from work one afternoon a few weeks after your heat and Hobi pulled you onto the couch, insisting you take a nap, that you realized something was different. You could still smell the light fragrance of Hoseok's body wash, so you knew he'd showered a few hours ago. But he smelled like praline pecans. Nutty like Seokjin, and different from Hoseok normal brown sugar. A new blend of the two.

"I'm going to stop working," you said suddenly.

He pulled back so he could look down at your face. "That would be great, but why so sudden?"

You shrugged and nestled back into his chest. "I just want to help you here more. It seems kind of silly to be cleaning for other people when I should be here cleaning with you."

He couldn't argue with that. Yoongi had told him about how you had called their house your home after your last heat, and it made his heart soar. He certainly wasn't going to deny you the domestic bliss he had always wanted to share.

"I like the sound of that," he murmured into your hair. "I would love to keep you here."

You were anxious to tell Yoongi about your decision, but when he got home he looked stressed and dejected. His shoulders hunched in a way you hadn't ever seen before. Seeing him look so weary made your heart ache. You approached him quietly as he took off his shoes in the entryway. 

When you took his hand, one look into your sympathetic doe eyes was all it took to bring a genuine, lighthearted smile to his face. Somehow, one look from you and your tiny hands around his large one manifested energy from thin air. He pulled you closer and cradled you against his chest. Silent, except for a soft happy rumble in his chest, he held you like that for several minutes, but you wouldn't move for all the world, content to gently sway in his arms. 

"Was it a bad day?" You asked softly. He hummed. "Come sit down, and I'll get you something to eat," you told him as you pulled away, ready to take his hand and guide him down the hall to the kitchen. But he pulled you back, unready to allow so much space between you. He picked you up by the backs of your thighs and hoisted you up, leaving you no choice but to wrap your arms and legs around him.

"In a minute," he mumbled into your neck, where he took deep breaths of your scent, allowing it to fill his lungs and soothe his nerves.

You complied and let him carry you to the couch as if you were no more than a child. Even if he was tired, holding you was nothing, not compared to the benefits. 

"What happened?" you pressed gently after a moment.

"Nothing, really." He didn't need to burden you with the DOA he'd had today. Car crashes could cause such carnage, and he didn't need you to think of that. "I asked my supervisor if I could switch to a permanent day shift, but he denied me," he said after a moment of toying with your hair between his fingers.

"Oh. Why did you want to change?" 

"I was hoping it would allow me to spend more time with you," he admitted. "I hate that I'm not able to see you. One of us is always working."

"Oh." A smile tugged at your lips and you cleared your throat. "Well, actually, I was thinking…" He lifted your chin gently with his fingers to see your eyes and waited for you to go on. "I want to quit my job. I-if that's okay."

"Really?" He asked excitedly as he pushed you away to look at your face better. 

"Yeah, if it's not a problem," you answered quietly. 

Yoongi pulled your hips tighter against him. "Of course it's not a problem! I was never going to tell you to quit, but I was always hoping you would. But why now? Did something happen at work?" His expression turned serious in an instant. 

You shook your head. "No. Work is fine. I just feel like it's time to help Hobi out. And I can take care of you and Jimin. You're my pack after all."

"We don't expect you to cook and clean for us, princess," he said, tucking your hair behind your ear. Even though he meant it, he felt his heart flutter knowing you might want to.

"But it's my job."

"It isn't. That's not why we want you here. It's not why we're keeping you around. It never will be." His tone was serious. His eyes looked intently into yours. Heat flushed all over your body, and you tried to backtrack. 

"I know that, Yoongi. I actually wasn't thinking that way, which is kind of funny because normally I would. This isn't a-take-care-of-alpha-before-he-throws-you-out thing. I just care about you and I think about taking care of you a lot. Want to know if you're eating well and sleeping well."

Yoongi's smile returned, and he pulled you closer, resting his forehead against your cheek. "Good. That makes me more happy than you'll ever know."

"Aish. I'm not really doing it for you," you teased. "I want to stay home and help Hobi."

"Ah, yes, you're new BFF," he teased back. "That's fine. I'm sure he'll be happy."

You nodded. "I'll put my two weeks notice in tomorrow."

"Why bother? Just quit. You're never gonna need another job again." He grasped the back of your head and pulled you into a passionate kiss, leaving you breathless.

"Aren't you gonna eat something?" You asked hazily, a long moment later. 

"Yeah," he grinned. "I'll eat you,"

"No!" You screamed amid your giggles as he playfully tried to bite your neck, tickling your sides at the same time. When you were gasping for breath, he scooped you up in his arms again and carried you into the kitchen. He set you down to sit on top of the kitchen counter.

"I'll fix something for you," you told him as he walked toward the refrigerator. 

"You stay," he ordered as he looked inside. "Did you cook this?" he asked, showing you a container of the leftovers from the evening's dinner. You nodded. "Then your work here is done," he said before placing the meal in the microwave. 

"I heard the sound of a happy pup," Jimin said as he entered the kitchen. You blushed when he stood beside you. He had been sitting in the pack's nest with Namjoon and Jungkook when they heard your screams and laughter. He wasn't the only one curious, but he was the only one who ventured out to see what was going on. 

Yoongi beamed. "Y/N has decided to quit her job and stay home."

"Oh, good thing you made that choice before Taehyung started courting you," Jimin responded slyly.

"What do you mean? Court me?" You stared at him in confusion.

Yoongi nodded. "It's true. He asked me for my blessing already. I told him I don't mind. He said he's going to take it slow, not jump into anything. But now you'll have plenty of time to get to know each other." Yoongi wriggled his eyebrows. 

Your voice caught in the back of your throat. Too many feelings swirled deep in your stomach, and you couldn't parse them out. "You don't mind?" you finally asked.

Yoongi gave you a soft smile and lifted your face to meet his eyes. "As much as I love our little pack, I've always known it wouldn't always be the three of us. I mean, I hoped. There's no rush, but I think some day it will probably be all eight of us. And that will be great, too."

You tried not to think about that possibility too often. It made your head spin. Seven packmates. Four alphas. You weren't sure you could handle it. "But I only want you to be my alpha. If Jin–" you cut yourself off abruptly. 

"If Jin what, princess?"

"If Jin wants to claim me, won't he be my pack alpha? But I only want you to be my pack alpha!" 

Yoongi couldn't bear how childlike you sounded. It made his heart hurt to hear you so anxious and confused. He smoothed a hand over your hair and pulled your head to his shoulder.

"It's okay, baby. Jin will never be your pack alpha. I'll always be your number one. You really think I'd let anyone take my place in your heart?" he cooed.

"What are you so worried for?" Jimin chided. "Who's talking about Jin? It's just Taehyung right now. He's a great alpha. You'll see."

You sniffed and pulled away from Yoongi when the microwave beeped. "Why did you say it was good I'm quitting my job because of him?"

Jimin smirked. "Taehyung could never allow his omega to work outside the home."

"Why not?"

"One, it's too dangerous. It would drive his anxiety crazy. Best to keep omegas safe in the den. Two, it would hurt his pride. He makes more than enough money to support you and Hobi all on his own. And three, Taehyung may have the disposition of a golden retriever, but even the sweetest dogs don't like strange dogs looking at their bones." Jimin grinned deviously. 

You pushed his shoulder. "I'm not a bone!"

"Oh, yeah? Just wait until he starts gnawing on you!" Jimin picked up your arm and pretended to bite it much like Yoongi had before, and again, you thrilled them both with your shrieks and giggles.

While the days got longer and hotter with more sunlight, it seemed that each workday dragged on slower than they ever had before. You were diligently waiting your two weeks, but by the time you were nearly there, you wished you'd taken Yoongi's advice to just quit. You were aching to be at home every minute you were gone, and that was a feeling you had never known before.

When Yoongi brought you home on your next to last day of work, you walked into something you'd never seen at the house before. It was something of a party atmosphere, and they were all celebrating the end of the school year alongside Namjoon. Jin and Jimin had yet to return home, but Jungkook and Namjoon had beers in hand, chatting cheerfully at the kitchen table while Taehyung put out snacks on the counter. You walked carefully past them to wash your hands before you sidled up beside Hoseok where he was forming beef patties between his delicate hands.

"Hamburgers for dinner?" You asked. 

Hoseok smiled down at you and gestured to the side with his head. "You can slice those onions and tomatoes," he told you before you could ask to help. 

When the rest of the pack came home, you all accompanied Hobi outside on the patio while he grilled the burgers. Yoongi anxiously held you back from getting too close to the flames, nervous you might hurt yourself. The afternoon was lovely, and you all decided on eating outside to enjoy the spring weather. You spent most of the time clinging to Yoongi, either in his lap or next to him, holding his hand. He didn't mind in the slightest, nor did he mind the jealous looks he received from Taehyung, who tried to make the both of you jealous by fawning over Jimin. All of them were oblivious to the true reason for your clinginess.

Namjoon tended to stand quietly on the fringes of Seokjin's pack. His status was never in question, and he didn't shy away from sharing his thoughts and feelings, but whenever you were all together, he simply allowed others to take center stage. But tonight was different. Tonight was his celebration for another completed school year, and he felt no need to stay to the side and listen to others. For once, he dominated the majority of the conversation, discussing funny memories from the school year and a few complaints he usually tried to swallow. As the night grew longer and he drank more, his voice boomed louder across the large backyard and you pressed yourself closer to Yoongi.

When it got dark and the air turned chilly, everyone moved back into the kitchen. You were exhausted, but decided to help clean up before you tried to excuse yourself to go to bed. Everyone was having a good time, all of them drinking a little even though you didn't, and you didn't want to bring the mood down, but you were growing tired. When you finished washing the dishes you went to stand by Yoongi, who was laughing heartily to the story that Namjoon was telling. You could wait a few more minutes, but you didn't really want to go to bed alone, and you didn't want to miss out, listening to all their laughter from your room while you sat alone. As Namjoon continued his story, he gestured wildly with his hands. The condensation on the beer bottle made it slick, and the brown glass suddenly flew out of his hand, whizzing past your head in a blur. You were hiding under the counter by the time the glass hit the wall, shattering to pieces and dumping its liquid all over the floor. Shards of class popped around the room as you buried your head in your knees and covered yourself with your arms. A scream built in your throat, but you knew better than to let it out.

Don't scream. Don't scream. It'll only be worse if you scream.

The whole room went silent and motionless for two seconds as they registered what happened. Then at once everything was in motion. Yoongi got out of his chair to check if you were alright, but Taehyung was quicker. He didn't take a moment to ask how you were or assess the damage. He simply gathered you into his arms and lifted you off the ground, careful not to bang your head on the granite countertop. He carried you directly up the stairs and to your room, with Yoongi behind him and Jimin bringing up the rear.

In the kitchen, the remaining two alphas stood, frozen in shock, but Hoseok didn't waste any time putting on shoes and grabbing the broom.

"Hobi, let me," Namjoon tried to say, reaching for the broom when he finally came out of his stupor. 

The omega pulled away. "I got it. You stay over there until I get this all cleaned up. There's lots of glass."

The flat, subdued tone of his voice hurt Namjoon as much as the way Hobi wouldn't look at him. "It was an accident," he whispered.

"We know that, Joonie," Jungkook assured him with a light smile. "It's not like it's the first time you've broken something around here. It's just…" His eyes drifted toward the stairs. 

"I would never throw something at her," Namjoon defended. 

"I know, babe, I know. But she doesn't. It's natural for her to be scared. Don't take it too personally. She's just skittish," Jungkook tried to convince him. 

Hoseok felt a tug of war within himself. He was usually always the first one to comfort Namjoon when he accidentally broke something or made a mess. But now he really wanted to check on you, to make sure you weren't hurt or scared. He wanted to hold you in his arms, but he knew if he ran off with the others it would hurt Namjoon, and he knew that it wasn't really his fault. Namjoon was just clumsy, some might say cursed. He never meant to cause chaos, but he did anyway. You would get used to it, eventually, but right now the omega could understand perfectly why you were afraid Namjoon might hurt you without even intending to. His head swirled with competing worries as he swept up the glass and dumped it into the trash can. 

"Are you hurt?" Yoongi asked as Taehyung set you down at the edge of your nest. He shouldered the younger alpha out of the way to examine you. You were still too stunned to answer, but it didn't really matter; Yoongi was going to look over every available inch of you regardless. He gently tilted your face this way and that to make sure it was unscathed before he moved onto your arms, lifting and twisting each in turn to ensure your skin was unharmed. There was a small cut on your forearm and he frowned. It wasn't even from the incident that had unfolded moments before. It was from work earlier today, and the blood was already dry—you hadn't even felt it at the time.

"Jimin, go get the first aid kit from the bathroom," he instructed, holding your arms carefully. 

Feeling Yoongi's steady hands on you helped to ground you and bring you back to your body, out of your shock and panic. You took in a deep breath and breathed out, "I'm okay."

Jimin shuffled back into the room carrying the first aid kit and handed it to Yoongi. The alpha plucked out an alcohol pad and ripped open the packet with his teeth, spitting out the torn piece. 

"It's gonna sting," he whispered, but you didn't react as he swiped it over your skin. "It's dry." You looked down to the very minor wound he was tending to. 

"That was from work. It's fine," you told him, but he didn't seem to hear you. He had already taken a bandage from the kit—neon pink—and gently but firmly pressed it over your cut. "Yoongi?" He looked up into your eyes and you could see his own were full of worry. He shrugged. 

"It makes me feel better."

You cracked a genuine smile and it lifted some of the weight off his chest.

"Are you sure you're okay, sweet little?" Taehyung asked. His hands were still shaking from the course of adrenaline when he thought you were in danger. 

You nodded. "I'm okay. I was just scared. I'm not hurt."

"You shouldn't be scared at home," he replied.

"Come sit with me," you said softly, patting the spot next to you. Your heart ached to see how distressed he was over you. Taehyung lowered his head and came to sit near you, not quite in your nest, but just outside of it. When he got close you realized something the rest of them hadn't. They'd been too worried about you to assess their own well-being. 

"Tae, you're covered in beer."

He had been standing closest to where the bottle had hit the wall and, as a result, had gotten sprayed with the contents as well as some glass. 

"You're bleeding," you added. "Yoongi, your patient is right here."

Your alpha smiled weakly at how brave you were trying to be. He could tell by the way you were still shaking that you weren't as calm as you pretended to be, but he would talk to you about it in a little while when things settled. For now he turned to Taehyung. Without a word, he began to clean the man's wound, and you held his hand while he winced through the burn on the alcohol. You pulled a neon pink bandage from the box beside you and handed it to Yoongi to apply.

"Now we match," you told him, and it brought a bright, boxy smile to Taehyung's face.

"Why are you the one comforting me?" He asked, bumping your shoulder. 

"Why don't you go clean up and get changed? Then maybe you can come cuddle me in the nest?" You offered. "If you want to," you added quickly. 

Taehyung nodded enthusiastically. "Be right back," he said before scurrying out of the room. 

"Yoongi, you need to go downstairs and see if everyone is okay down there," you told him.

He growled softly, mumbling, "They can take care of themselves."

"Alpha," you cooed, reaching out to touch his cheek, "don't be like that." He pouted for a moment, but nodded and gathered the pieces of trash from his work before he took the first aid kit downstairs. 

"What about me?" Jimin stood proudly in front of you, fists in his hips, waiting for his instructions. 

"You come cuddle me until the others come back." He didn't waste a second, shucking off his pants and shirt. You'd gotten used to the fact that Jimin preferred to sleep only in boxers. Who were you to force clothes on him if he slept better without? After your heat, it had ceased to make you the slightest bit uncomfortable. He quickly climbed onto the bed, wrestling you into the nest and underneath his body, where he could get the upper hand on you and make the last of our distressed scent disappear as quickly as it had come.

When Yoongi reached the bottom of the steps, Namjoon turned anxiously to look at him. He was cleaning the last of the beer off the wall, looking rather like a pup with his tail between his legs. This was hardly a rare scenario for him, cleaning up his own mess no matter how Hobi tried to tell him to leave it. It wasn't the first glass he'd broken nor the first drink spilled. Namjoon was a walking disaster. He knew that. It couldn't be helped, and everyone knew that, too. But normally, everyone would stick around to help and cheer him up and comfort him when he made a silly mistake like this. This time, half his pack had disappeared up the stairs with you, and he couldn't help feeling a bit hurt about it. He regretted it. He always did, but he couldn't take it back, and he just couldn't change. He opened his mouth to explain to Yoongi, but nothing came out. 

"Is she hurt?" Hoseok asked from the sink, after Yoongi and Namjoon had stared at each other for several tense seconds. Yoongi's face was a cold mask of stone, revealing nothing but disdain. Namjoon looked utterly crestfallen. 

"She's not hurt. Just scared," Yoongi answered, shaking his head when he finally broke eye contact with Joon. 

"That's a relief," Namjoon sighed, and his face showed his relief was real. 

"Taehyung got cut up a little bit," Yoongi said sharply. It was petty, but he didn't want the younger alpha to feel as if there was no harm done, and he didn't expect Namjoon to care that you'd been shaken up. 

"Is it bad?" Jin asked, looking concerned. 

Yoongi shook his head again. "I patched him up. Y/N invited him into her nest to make him feel better, I think." He paused for a second, thinking about your behavior. "She sent me down here to see if anyone was hurt."

"We're all fine, Yoongi. Come have a seat," Jungkook replied, pulling out the chair beside him. 

"I should go back to her."

"Yoongi." Jin's voice wasn't raised, but it was loud and firm enough to have Yoongi freezing as he turned away. He hugged the first aid kit to his stomach and dropped his chin. "I'm sure Jimin and Tae are taking perfectly good care of her. Come sit for a minute."

Yoongi hated the way it felt like he was in trouble, when he knew he had no reason to be. He hadn't gone and ruined a perfectly nice evening, or spooked his very nervous omega. But he turned and walked slowly to the table to sit anyway. 

"You know it was an accident," Jin said calmly.

"I know," Yoongi answered curtly.

"Just let him apologize." Jin's voice was the slightest bit pleading, as if he were desperate to avoid more conflict between his alphas.

"I really am sorry, Yoongi. I would never–"

"You don't need to apologize to me," Yoongi interjected. "I'm not angry. Maybe if she'd been hurt…but I know you can't control your body. You've never been able to. I get that. But she doesn't know. She's terrified you will hurt her, just by accident. And with you accidents are bound to happen."

"I–" Namjoon began, but the other alpha didn't let him finish. 

"Do you know how it hurts me to see her afraid? After all the horrors in her life, I only want to keep her from feeling afraid. I don't just want her to be safe. I want her to feel safe. And if she can't then we…If she can't feel safe with you…" The look of pure devastation on Yoongi's features hurt Namjoon more than any other thing could have.

"What can I do, Yoongi? Tell me. I'll make it right," he begged.

Yoongi sighed, desperate to keep himself together. "If you and her are going to live in the same house…if you're going to spend the whole summer together, you have to try to be gentler. Please try."

Namjoon reached across the table to lay his hand over Yoongi's where he clutched the kit still.

"I will try. I promise. I'll be more careful," Namjoon assured him. Yoongi merely nodded silently, unsure if that would be enough to settle all your nerves about the pack's largest alpha. As if he could read Yoongi's mind, Jin cleared his throat. 

"I think, maybe, Y/N might feel a little more comfortable with us if she could see that you're comfortable with us," he suggested quietly. Yoongi's eyes flickered to the pack alpha's and then back to his hands. 

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," Jin sighed, "you're still holding us at arms length. I get maybe you still want to punish us for what we've done. I don't want to tell you how to feel or to get over it. But how could she ever trust us if she knows you don't?"

"She'll come to her own conclusions,"Yoongi mumbled. 

"So you admit that you still don't trust us? You're still angry with me?" Jin sounded frustrated, but Yoongi could hear that really he was just heartbroken. It wasn't a pleasant feeling, knowing that his distance was hurting Jin. He wasn't really angry anymore. He hadn't found the time or energy to be angry. Any spare thought he had went directly to you. Maybe it was unfair, because he knew clearly in this moment that he still carried plenty of love in his heart for Jin and Namjoon. 

"I'm not angry," he answered. "I just don't know what you want me to do. I've stayed. I've brought her here—sometimes against my better judgment—I don't know what I'm meant to do to fix things. They just have to heal in their own time." He shrugged. 

"But how can they when this is the longest conversation we've had in weeks?"

"I don't know, Jin. It's just not my priority right now!" Yoongi snapped. 

"Okay!" Hoseok interjected, coming closer to the men seated at the table for the first time. He'd been hesitant to interfere in the alphas' problems, but he knew both men well enough to see they were on the verge of saying things they didn't mean and would regret later. As soon as he approached, Jungkook's linen scent fluffed through the room, easing away the alphas' tension. "It's all okay. We don't have to solve it all tonight. It's late, and I think we should all just go to bed. Hm?" Hoseok put his hands on Jin's shoulders and gave a squeeze, satisfied when his shoulders relaxed. 

"Yeah, fine," Yoongi answered. He stood quickly, scraping the box along the table before he picked it up and moved toward the stairs. He didn't want more conflict. He wasn't trying to prolong their distance. But it was impossible not to want to keep them away when he wanted so badly to be close to you, and to keep you safe.

Yoongi stopped in the bathroom, relieved to hear the giggles of you, Jimin and Taehyung coming through your door. After tucking the first aid kit back into its spot under the sink, he brushed his teeth. Hoseok met his eyes in the bathroom mirror when he stopped outside your door, but neither said a word before the omega slipped into your room to see for himself that you were unharmed. Yoongi remained quiet when he joined the four of you. Jimin had managed to get you into a pair of pajamas and your hair was an adorable disaster from being rolled around in your nest. You'd settled now between Jimin's legs with your back to his bare chest, your attention on Hoseok until Yoongi walked in, but you only spared him a glance. He wondered if even Jimin could tell how hard you were forcing your smile and your happy scent. Had he noticed that your eyes lacked the shine they usually got when the beta scented you silly?

"Come to bed so these kids can get to sleep," Hoseok said to Taehyung while Yoongi changed into his pajamas. 

Taehyung whined softly. He'd only just been invited into your nest, and he wasn't ready to leave it already.

"Go on, Tae. Joon needs to know you're not upset with him," Yoongi encouraged quietly.

"Maybe I am," Taehyung mumbled. Hoseok reached for his hand and took it into his lap. 

"You know he can't help himself, Tae. Give him a break, okay?"

The alpha grumbled wordlessly, but you nudged him with your foot. 

"Go on, Tae Tae. I will be okay. My alpha is here." Taehyung's low rumble turned into a real growl, but you knew it was playful. 

"Two alphas are better than one."

"Three are better than two!" Hoseok added. He stood from the edge of the bed and tugged on the youngest alpha's hand to come along. Tae allowed himself to be dragged off the bed, but pulled back to give you one kiss on the top of your head.

"See you tomorrow, sweet little. Sleep tight," he murmured, and then he was gone.

Closing the door, Yoongi turned off the lights before crawling into bed beside you.

"Goodnight," Jimin said, leaning over you to kiss Yoongi, making sure you got properly squished in the process.

"Goodnight," you whispered with a giggle when you received your own kiss. 

You said nothing to Yoongi as the two of you cuddled together. Your head laid on his chest, listening to his slow, steady heartbeat as the house slowly went silent. You laid there, but didn't close your eyes, and Yoongi watched you without saying a word. You let the minutes stretch on until you'd been there for almost half an hour. 

"How come you aren't sleeping?" you asked softly. 

"You aren't sleeping either," he replied. You shifted slightly without moving away and traced his stomach with your fingertips. 

"It's hard for me to sleep without your snoring." You felt his chest rise and fall with a huff and looked up to see his gummy smile for just a moment. Then he looked down at you seriously.

"You don't have to pretend for me. You don't have to pretend for anyone, but especially not me." You shifted again, but this time he could tell you were putting space between you. 

"I don't know what you mean."

Yoongi grasped your wrist gently before you could move away from him. There wasn't far to go before you would run into Jimin, but he could only bare for you to move as far as it would take for you to look at him eye to eye. He rolled over and scooched down so his gaze was level to yours. 

"You don't need to act as if Namjoon didn't scare you. You're still scared now. I don't think I can convince you that you're safe right now, but you are. I'm right here." 

Your chest tightened at his words. You whispered, "I know," but it didn't stop your eyes from watering. Yoongi gathered you close, pressing you into his chest. 

"I'm so angry."

"It was an–"

"I'm angry with myself. I shouldn't have brought you here." He felt you try to pull away, ready to argue, but he held you tight. "I should have taken you somewhere else. The three of us could have gotten an apartment. Shouldn't have kept you here with such clumsy, stupid alphas." At this point he sounded as though he was talking to himself, mumbling out the thoughts he'd been repeating in his head for the last hour. 

"It's okay, Yoongi. I didn't get hurt," you tried to tell him. 

"But you got scared, and that's just as bad in my eyes." You managed to pull away from him enough to look up at his face and touch his cheek. "You're still shaking. Do you think I can't feel that? Jimin and Tae scented you, but you didn't feel safe enough to let yourself get all dopey. Do you even realize? I can't stand this, and I hate that you're pretending just so we don't feel bad."

"Yoongi," you frowned and stroked your thumb over his cheekbone. "I'm not pretending because of that. I'm trying to be brave because I want to stay. Namjoon terrifies me, but I like it here. I like living with Hobi and Tae…and you and Jimin here. I'm still scared, but not enough to leave. So let me pretend, okay?" Yoongi sighed, a sign he wasn't accepting this yet. "I may not feel completely safe, but I feel happy. I'm like a stray dog. I may never feel safe, not completely. I might always be a little jumpy. But that doesn't mean I don't love my new home, or that it's not a good home."

Yoongi laughed almost silently and buried his head in your neck. "Don't call yourself a stray dog."

"That's what I am," you replied, combing your fingers through his hair. "I came up to you with big puppy eyes and asked you to stay."

"That's definitely not how it happened," he mumbled. But when he pulled you closer and inhaled your scent, you couldn't help smiling. 

"I won't let anything happen to you," he breathed as he relaxed against the nest at last. 

"I know," you replied. "So I think we can sleep now."

"Go ahead. I'll watch over you."

Your last shift ended fairly well. The library staff even brought donuts to wish you well. A couple of them who were betas even confessed that they were glad to hear you had settled in with a pack and would be staying home, because they often worried about you. You waited outside the library at your usual spot, pacing and checking your phone as minutes ticked by and terrible thoughts began to creep in.

What if they got into some kind of accident?

What if they dont want you, after all?

Just as you began to spiral into your worst thoughts, a familiar vehicle pulled up abruptly in front of you. Although you'd never ridden inside of it, you could still recognize Namjoon's blue volvo without looking at him, which you only did for the briefest of glances, just to be sure it was really him.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," he said, sounding out of breath as if he'd run instead of driven here. 

I wasn't waiting for you, is what you wanted to say, but you merely stood still and stared at him with eyes as wide as saucers.

"Um," he began awkwardly as he got out of the car without killing the engine and walked toward you until he was only a couple yards away. He scratched nervously behind his ear as he tried to start again. "I know you were expecting Taehyung, but he cut his foot on a piece of glass that wasn't cleaned up from last night, and Hobi took him to the emergency room about twenty minutes ago. Didn't they text you?"

You shook your head, remaining silent.

"Yeah…so I was the only other person home so…here I am." He looked anxiously at the car, like he wished you'd just get in and save him the embarrassment of standing here in front of you. "I promise, I'm a good driver. And we don't have to talk or anything, if you don't want to."

You stared at him for a moment longer before your tongue unglued itself from the roof of your mouth.

"Does Yoongi know about this?" 

Namjoons throat felt like sandpaper, and he seemed to shrink an inch. He shook his head. "I tried to call him but he didn't answer. He must be busy." 

You hadn't moved an inch since he arrived, and he couldn't help wondering if he was really that terrifying.

"I promise, Y/N, I'm not going to hurt you." The idea that you ever thought he would hurt him in a way he couldn't account for. He knew he wouldn't, but the idea that you couldn't believe that cut him deep. What would he do if you never learned to trust him? If you never let him close to you? It wasn't something he ever gave himself permission to want, so why did not having it wound him so? He shook his head clear of the questions. "You can sit in the back and pretend I'm just the chauffeur."

You lifted your chin in his direction and narrowed your eyes. "I think I'll just take the bus."

Namjoons eyebrows raised. You can't possibly think he's that scary, could you? But instead he used what he knew was the only way to convince you.

"Do you really think Yoongi would approve of that?"

Your jaw tightened. You knew he was right. Looking down at your phone, you hoped for a notification from Yoongi, but there was one from Hoseok instead. You swallowed thickly when you read it.

Sorry, pup! There was an emergency. Namjoon should be there to pick you up. I promise it will be okay.

"How do you know you'll take me home and not somewhere else?" You finally asked. Namjoon's eyes grew wide and he actually took a step back. He rubbed his hand over his hair as he tried to process your question.

"What makes you think I would do something like that? What did Yoongi say to you?" Your brow furrowed at the strange question. 

"Yoongi didn't have to say anything for me to know you don't want me around," you answered, an edge of bitterness lacing your words. Namjoon nearly choked.

"Y/n, that isn't true."

"If it isn't then why didn't you ever tell yoongi where I was when you knew I worked here? You and Jin didn't want him to know. You don't want me in your pack. I get it. It's fine. But you should know that Yoongi does want me, and if I don't come home there's no telling what he'll do." You were surprised by the firmness of your own voice as well as how sure you felt of your own words. Yoongi did want you, and you knew that was as fierce an attachment for him as it was for you.

Namjoon took several full breaths before he responded. "Y/N, I promise you, all I'm trying to do right now is take you home. I won't lie to you. I didn't want you to become a part of our pack at first but things have…changed. You're a part of our lives now either way. And I wouldn't risk losing Yoongi over you. I never would. So please. Just come home with me," he begged. While the two of you maintained eye contact—for longer than you had ever done before—he fought the instinct to grab you and put you in the car if you continued to protest, but he knew that would only hurt his cause. Just when he was about to lose this staring contest to you, your phone began to ring with Yoongi's ringtone.

"Hello?" You answered, only dropping your gaze from the alpha in front of you for a moment.

"Princess, are you okay?" He asked, sounding out of breath from the way his heart was pounding.

"I think so," you mumbled.

"I got a message from Joon that he was going to pick you up." You narrowed your eyes on the man in question. 

"Yeah, he's here." Yoongi sighed in relief. "What should I do? I can take the bus."

"No, princess. Just go home with him, okay? I promise everything will be fine."

"I'm scared," you said so softly that Namjoon couldn't hear it.

"I know, and I'm sorry, but you don't need to be. You'll be safe with him, and I'll feel better if you go with him than on your own. I've got your location on. If anything happens to you I'll be there as soon as possible. But you're going to be okay. Trust me?" It was that simple, really. If Yoongi was asking you to trust him, then you would. As long as Yoongi promised you'd be safe, you'd make yourself believe him. He wouldn't let you down.

"Fine."

"Good girl. I'll be home in a few hours and I'll give you a reward for being so brave." Your cheeks heated at his words, but you couldn't deny loving it when Yoongi sometimes treated you like a child. No one had ever treated you with such gentle care before, and it felt like real love.

"I'll be waiting." You hung up and looked at Namjoon again. He looked back expectantly. "Yoongi said to go home with you. So I guess that's that."

You walked around the vehicle to sit in the back passenger seat, as far from him as possible. Namjoon didn't say a word as you got inside his car and buckled yourself in. As he pulled away from the library, you kept your eyes out the window even though you could feel his gaze on you through the rear view mirror. He chewed nervously on his lip as he glanced back and forth between the road and the mirror, but he kept silent until he was on the main road between the library and the house.

"We should try to be civil, at least," he said at last, speaking as if you'd been privy to the conversation in his head instead of coming into the middle. You didn't respond, so he went on. "We're going to be home together a lot this summer, and it would be easier on everyone if we tried to ease the tension." He finished softly, perhaps knowing he sounded ridiculous to you.

"I'll do my best to keep out from under foot, if you try not to throw anything at me again."

Namjoon deflated with a sigh. "I swear it was an accident."

"That's why I said try."

"I'm just clumsy. I never meant to hurt you."

"Do you honestly think I haven't heard every excuse in the book?" You rolled your eyes. "It just slipped. You ran into my fist. You really should be more careful where you're going."

"Y/N," Namjoon interrupted, trying hard not to become distressed as he drove, but honestly, your words were tearing him apart. Did you really have no idea the effect you had on him? "I'm sorry. I realize I haven't apologized to you directly for last night. I'm sorry for being so careless. I really will try to be more cautious. But I'm also sorry that other people have given you reasons not to trust them, or alphas, or me." He pulled to a stop at a red light and turned in his seat to look at you. "I get that you have no reason to trust me, and that I have to work for it. That's okay. I don't mind. But can you give me the benefit of the doubt and trust that Yoongi wouldn't have me in his life at all if you couldn't trust me?"

At last, you turned your head to look at him. "Why does everyone always pull the Yoongi card on me?"

"Because it always works," he smirked.

"Fuck," you muttered, because he was right. For whatever reason, you trusted Yoongi implicitly. And Namjoon had a point. Your alpha wouldn't have a dangerous person in his life, let alone trust them to be around you. So you merely nodded to his request, and the man turned forward just in time to see the light turn green before he drove you the rest of the way home. 

A/n: I don't feel like this has been my best chapter, but I would love to hear your thoughts on it! Thanks for reading!

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[shadowsandshapes]

pls do you have any thoughts on Tomura you wanna share with the class?

I'm still very much figuring out how I view him, so I really appreciate the ask 👀 In this episode: clothing. I was gonna do a bulleted list but then got a little nutty YOU DIDN'T ASK FOR THIS I'M SORRY

Premise: Shigaraki loves to dress you up :) Contains: Body Worship, Garment Fetishism, Mild Dirty Talk

MINORS DNI 🔪

Fuck – this was embarrassing. 

You fidgeted in front of the mirror – hands pulling at the ruffles of your skirt in a feeble attempt to cover yourself. It was goddamn short. The hem just barely covered your ass, stopping just below the curve of your cheeks. Bending over in this fit wasn’t an option. Not if you didn’t wanna flash the lace of your panties to the entire room. Buttons, ribbons and ruffles decorated the skimpy outfit from top to bottom, strategically placed in spots that would accentuate the dips and curves of your body. To be honest, while you did look very cute, this was a bit much for you. Which helped to remind you: this wasn’t for you. It was for him. 

Shigaraki’s eyes stared into yours in the reflection of the mirror. You followed his gaze, tracing every part of your body in his chosen outfit as he appreciated the sight. A blush crept onto your cheeks as he groaned approvingly. 

“Come here,” Tomura commanded, tapping two fingers on his knee. As you walked towards him, his eyes darkened. You had his undivided attention. That alone was enough to make you squirm. He looked at you so adoringly as you came to a stop in front of him – hands carefully reaching up to play with the fabric on your thighs. “Hold still.” His voice is quiet and husky as he whispers his command. You nod, allowing him free reign of your body. 

You tensed up as his fingers begin their cherishing ascent. First, they admired your outfit – lovingly playing with the lace and ribbons as he leaned into you. Tomura could disintegrate everything if he wanted, but he is careful with his touch. It would be such a shame to destroy something so lovely. You looked gorgeous like this. Shigaraki pressed his face against your stomach. You looked down, locking eyes with your fearless leader and lover. His eyes were filled with love and lust, their familiar crimson dulled by dark desire. The feeling of the fabric against his skin, your warmth seeping through to greet him, was nothing short of amazing. 

“You’re so hot,” he groaned out, slipping his fingers beneath the dress. You gasped -- feeling their coldness shocking your skin. “Such a pretty little thing. Wearing a slutty outfit like this. Just for me, yeah?” He was rambling – obsessed with dragging his nails across your bare thighs and watching your face contort into a pleasured, blissful expression. 

“Tomura,” you moaned out his name, making his heart jump in his chest. Fuck. That adorably embarrassed look was made for you. The blushing cheeks, the broken voice. It suited you so well. You were the single most beautiful thing he had ever seen. 

“You’re gonna let me fuck you, aren’t you?” he asked – a giddy giggle bubbling in the back of his throat. The sight of you trembling beneath his touch in such a skimpy-looking outfit had his cock rock hard. This was exactly what he had in mind when he suggested you wear something nice for him. “Of course you are,” Tomura concluded impatiently, already slipping two of his digits into your underwear. They prodded at your folds – earning a slew of quiet gasps and moans from your trembling lips. You were soaked. “Glad to see I’m not the only one enjoying this –” he hissed out, spreading your wetness all over his fingers as he slipped them inside. Your knees buckled as you lurched forward – grabbing onto his shoulder for support. 

“Please, Tomura –”

He hushed your cries – curling his fingers inside of you. “Don’t worry, (Y/n), I’m gonna fuck you soon, I promise – I wanna paint these clothes white.”

[masterlist]

[electronickingdomfox]

"The Wounded Sky" review

Novel from 1983, by Diane Duane (I had read some TOS comics, and even played a text adventure by this same author, but this is the first novel I read). Very bizarre, very imaginative. You'd probably have to go back to "Planet of Judgment" (1977) to find a similarly unusual TOS novel. Most of the "action" unfolds inside mental landscapes (and that's not even a proper description; the situation is actually far more complex than that). At times poetic, at times metaphysical, it's a more difficult novel than the standard TOS light literature, though there are also many humorous moments.

The aliens are remarkable for how truly "alien" they are, which produces lots of absurd (from a human viewpoint) situations. There's a species who only see in infrared, and needs properly heated cards to play poker. A feline alien that doesn't have language to express the passage of time. Another species with twelve sexes, all of them male (specially the ones who bear children). And glass spiders with an altogether different understanding of physics, who spend a lifetime building a nest of memories to pass to their offspring, and then die at the time of mating. I haven't read any novels by Terry Pratchett, though I know about Discworld from the videogames, but may I say there's something "pratchean" in all this?

In many ways, this is a fascinating novel. But is it a good representative of a Trek novel? I'm not sure. I feel the scope and the depth of this story is a bit constrained by the Trek frame. The TOS series, and even the movies, had a smaller scope: interpersonal problems, specially among the big three, or political conflicts. The aliens were usually very human, and represented different human societies/worldviews. Even when more alien creatures appeared, like the gas cloud from "Obsession", the story was really about Kirk's very personal demons. So maybe this novel would have benefitted if it was set in its own, independent sci-fi world, that provided the needed freedom to explore the larger cast and variety the story strives for.

I'll try to summarize the plot, though this is over-simplifying, since "themes" are more important here than "action". Spoilers under the cut:

The Enterprise is tasked with testing a new revolutionary invention, that will allow ships to travel instantly as far as they want, even outside the galaxy. The artifact in question works by "inversion", sending the starship to a different dimension where time doesn't exist, and popping it up again at the desired coordinates. Since there's no time involved, there's no damage done to ship and crew. Theoretically. Well, what could possibly go wrong?

They take aboard the artifact, along with its Hamalki inventor: K't'lk (pronounced "ketelk", I think). She's the glass spider from the cover, and thus far, takes the prize for most unusual "lady of the week". K't'lk soon becomes best friends with Scotty, though the engineer struggles to understand the nutty physics of the Hamalki. For his part, Kirk has a conversation with her about the reproductive habits of her species, during which K't'lk weaves a strange crystal sculpture, and gifts it to him. She also makes a demonstration of the inversion process, without changing the ship's coordinates. But Kirk can't feel anything, except a vague dizziness.

However, soon after leaving the starbase, the Enterprise is attacked by Klingon ships which desire the inversion apparatus. Sulu manages to outmaneuver them, sending the Klingons into a nearby star, which becomes nova right then. The Enterprise escapes the explosion in the nick of time, by activating inversion and leaving the normal plane of existence. And this time, the crew has indeed strange (but blissful) experiences during inversion. For example, Kirk finds himself living as if he was the starship itself, and this had a conscience of its own.

Upon reappearing in the normal universe, they find out the explosion somehow messed up the coordinates, so they're not anywhere near the Lesser Magellanic, which it was their mission to investigate. Also, the nearby star is going nova too. Coincidence again? Activating inversion once more, this time they're placed in the correct coordinates. But with each subsequent, longer jump, the inversion experiences are becoming weirder, and individuals start merging with other crewmembers, and seeing things from their viewpoint.

Finally, things get more sinister once Kirk reappears with real wounds, that he thought were just the product of his mind. And even worse, the Lesser Magellanic, now nearby, is showing the most disturbing anomalies. Entropy has simply ceased to exist at some points. And it seems the longer jumps with the inversion apparatus have caused this, by ripping the fabric of the universe. Thus, a new universe without entropy is sipping through the tear, and threatens to destroy everything. (It's funny how the problem in "The Entropy Effect" was that they had too much entropy, while here they have too little. If they just left it alone...).

K't'lk is sure she can close the rip between both universes, but to do so, they'll need to make a final jump right at the center of the anomaly. The climax of the story happens entirely inside the mental world of inversion. Which is highly malleable by thought, given the progressive rupture of natural laws. Also, the flux in entropy is represented by ascencing and descending slopes in the landscape. However, they can't close the rip immediately, since they discover a living, god-like being (called simply "the Others"), who would be destroyed in the process. Before that, Spock must join in a group mind-meld with other crewmembers, to give the Others self-awareness, and explain the situation. K't'lk must also stay behind with the god, to weave new natural laws for Them to live in. And she puts forth this universe by singing (echoes from Tolkien's "Silmarillion"? might be, since a forest called "Lorien" appears at one point).

Once everything's fixed, and the Enterprise is back in Federation space via smaller jumps (that won't mess up the universe too much), Starfleet decides that the inversion apparatus is way too dangerous in its present state, and must not be used. Meanwhile, everyone misses K't'lk. But when Kirk accidentally breaks the crystal sculpture that she gave to him, he discovers it was actually an egg. A new, small K't'lk emerges from it, and quickly runs to greet Scotty.

Spirk Meter (or rather McSpirk): 5/10*. During inversion, Kirk gets to see Spock and McCoy's true, deepest natures, and he's in awe with what he finds. First, he's blinded by McCoy's compassion, and the doctor's touch on his arm both reassures and bewilders him. Then Kirk is humbled by Spock's desire of knowledge and his superior mind. The three of them are relieved to find such good qualities in the others' souls. However, the scene is quite abstract, and seems to be dealing more with the characters as ideas, rather than as specific persons. So I don't find it all that slashy really.

As for Spones as such, there's the moment when Kirk finds them walking together, while inside the anomaly, and Spock looks at McCoy with "nearly unalloyed affection". Kirk also considers that McCoy is more geared towards receiving, in contrast to Spock's inclination for giving... How convenient for them!

*A 10 in this scale is the most obvious spirk moments in TOS. Think of the back massage, "You make me believe in miracles", or "Amok Time" for example.

[ambivalencez]

Only good girl’s…

Summary: No power (Au)Domestic bliss slash Wanda teases y/n and receives the consequences.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem reader

Warning: +18Mommy kink, fingering, (r giving) oral(r giving) minors will be blocked if they interact.

Hissing the coffee puffs steam crackling out the last of the coffee. You can just smell today is another beautiful day. Inhaling the nutty ambrosial aroma tickling your nose. Grabbing your thermos the day commences as you; pour yourself and your wife’s morning brew. Checking the time you still have twenty minutes before you needed to head off. Placing Wanda’s pipping hot snoopy cup at the end of the counter. Screwing on the lid you flip the cap open holding it under your nose inhaling paradise. On the other side of the house, a bang goes off. Followed by a feminine voice wail. “Y/N, why you didn’t wake me up?! It’s 8:30 Billy and Tommy will be late for school!” And there it is you chuckle.

Coming alive out of your coffee leisure. Wanda rounded the pale white corner from the hallway. Entering the open floor plan connecting the kitchen and living room. Attempting to make herself at least appear somewhat presentable. From her wrinkled red cardigan the way her hair defied gravity atop her head. You could see it was failing, stifling a giggle as you continued sipping from your cup. You love her and it felt like you were made to love her from the moment you were born.

“Hey, hey it’s okay sweet. The boys are gone I got them ready and let you sleep.” Deflating Wanda walked over to you sagging her head tired between the crevice of your neck. “Thank you, I’m so ever loving fucking tired.” Breathing in the scent of her wispy hair your lung feel renewed. Before a shit-eating grin crept itself across your face. “Mmmhh, Y/n you better not be smiling.”Humming you keep your eyes closed. “I have no idea what you are talking about.” The vibration of her snort ran a chill along your back. “I felt your chin move,”

Wordless you reach to the side grabbing her coffee. “Wanda, have I ever told you how much I love you? How I adore you with every fiber of my being?” Peeling herself off you the auburn-haired woman's vibrant olive green eyes flickered back and forth. taking in the contents of your face. Long brunette hair pulled back bang combed over to the side. Your gold-framed rectangle glasses.

Placing the cup as a peace offering between the two of you. Wanda maneuvers her hand over it and pushes the coffee aside. Slithering her arms over your shoulders pulling you in close.“Go on, keep talking I want to hear more.” Just meters from your tentative lips eyes lidded and head tilted to the side. Right, where you can see the miniature sun’s at the focal point of her eyes light up from natural light. Wetting your lips seemed impossible “Fuck,” You whisper Tugging at your blazer your suit felt stuffie in here? Or maybe the coffee was kicking in. Adjusting uncomfortably you strain not to pull back your lips.

You could see it now, crashing your lips against her moist soft full ones.

Grabbing a firm hold of her ass and digging your nail in. Dropping her on the hard edge of the mineral counter. Ripping apart her denim button-up dress flinging buttons astray. Kneeling between her knees. The vein throbbing on the side of your neck. Staring at her full-blown eye irises. Daring not to tear your as away, slowly dragging her panties off with your teeth. Parting her legs the pungent smell of want between her folds. Teasing her entrance with your tongue anywhere than where she wants. Forming a strong grip Wanda threaded her fingers through your hair. “Dekta, enough with the playing fuck me already!” Wanda demanded. She must have forgotten who’s in charge. You will change that,

You make your way to her clit. Burying your nose against her wet hood. Planting your mouth on her clit swirling your tongue. Sucking the nectar clean Wanda bites her lips holding her cries. That won't do you want to hear her pretty little cries. You can feel her throb around your face. Stopping everything you lurch forward grabbing her face. Wanda’s chest greets you heaving as you watch throngs of sweat drip. One tit is exposed at the dress's left shoulder hanging loose. while others are trapped by fabric. “What have i told you about holding your voice in!?” You hiss baring your teeth and curling your lips.

“Only good girls cum,”

“Do you think you've been a very good girl? That Mommy should play with you?” You told her sternly. Wanda’s green eyes searched your leaning back nibbling on her lips. “No,” She whispered peering away from you. Relinquishing your grip on her face you begin stroking. “Look at me,” Watery green eyes meet yours. “Its okay baby.” Wanda's shoulders droop. “Now what do we say?” You waited patiently. “Please,” Wanda pleaded. “What was that?” you scolded. “Please make me cum mommy,”

“Thats all I need t-“

“Hello, earth to Y/n? Are you there?” Snapping back to reality a thought flashes through your mind. She got you right where she wanted you, all wound up. Fine, two can play that game.

“Wanda” your guttural voice warned before you pounced. Mmmph! Smashing her against the cupboard the door cracked. The impact sent your glasses clattering to the tiled floor. “At first i was just playing but then you look at me like that. My brain leaves the building and i just want to fuck you.” Melding lips taste one another savory smooth and warm like melting chocolate. Giving her no time for derive. Boxing her in there would be no escape from your retaliation.

Pinning her arms above her head. Sliding your leg between hers. Your reality is so much better~ than imagination at the feel of her juicy lips and tiny whimpers. “Cry for me baby,” You ground deep into her groin. “Mhmm, touch me,” Wanda squirmed. Closing your eyes you ground your against the tender skin of Wanda’s windpipe. Peppering cashmere kisses back up her throat and jaw. You make sure to smear your lipstick all over her neck. “Touch you where?”

Wanda thumped your arm.“Don't play around you did this to me!” Rubbing her chest up and to the side elicited a groan. “Maybe I did, but last time I checked. You answered to me.” You twist the delicate nub from where it rose. Suddenly sending a jolt throughout Wanda crying in the throws between pleasure and pain.

Exhaling your warm breath on her ear. “ You would let me do anything to you, wouldn't you? You would do anything to please me won't you?” Wanda nodded her head. Hiking up Wanda’s dress you slip your hand into her underwear. Kissing her you bit her bottom lip before dragging your tongue along her teeth. “Anything, please just use your fingers.” Wanda tensed up a let-out sob as you began rubbing gentle circles around her clit. “Ok keep your eyes on me if you close them ill have to punish you.”

“Open your mouth,”

“What?!”

“If you want my fingers so bad, then open your mouth.”You bit out. Wanda surrendered control opening her mouth taking in your left hand's middle and ring fingers. “Suck.” She began sucking as you; Wormed your fingers between her folds with your right. Her floral underwear pulled down to the side. She Writhing choking the drool dripped down your wrist.

Knuckling into her with your pointer and middle finger. Massaging her g spot she clamped down on your hand and began grinding. She was so wet it practically dripped down your fingers. Thrusting into her she moaned burying her head into your neck. So close- You could feel Wanda's walls clamping with a vicious grin of victory, she realized her mistake she held her hand over her face.

Pulling back you took two steps away. Walking to the door you turned the handle.“No, no Y/n please you can't leave me like this!” Wanda snatched your arm. “Oh, sweet Wanda.” You wiped the tears of frustration off her face. Licking them off your fingers. “I think i will.” Opening the door and stepping out turning to her. “After all, only good girls cum.”

[radiokathryn-if]

I had a cookie today. It was pretty good. So, it led me to this point. What are the ROs favorite type of cookies?

i love cookies! my favourite is white chocolate chip and macadamia nut *chefs kiss*! what kind did you have?

Nate──Crinkle cookies, luxurious rich fudge and powdered sugar... normally you have to wait a while for these cookies but Nate is impatient and wealthy enough to request fresh batches and get them straight away.

Eva──Gingersnaps, but specifically the ones her grandmother used to make during winter! She's a big fan of gingerbread too.

Mica──A new revelation brought upon an obsession with smarties cookies. They're a fiend──they will steal your smarties cookie if you leave it in their sights.

Detective Han──They're not the biggest fan of cookies, of those kinds of treats in general really,

José──Oatmeal Raisin, a controversial take they're sure (and sometimes they'll go to oatmeal chocolate chip rather than raisin) but they're not the most inclined to sweetness.

Ji Han──Snickerdoodles. Cinnamon and sugar cookies!! His elderly neighbour, or rather his mother's neighbour, used to make them every Sunday when he was younger─they bring a nostalgic bliss when he sees them.

Fauve──She loves a good shortbread so butter cookies are a good choice!

Jackson──When he's indulging himself, he loves Viennese Cresent cookies─nutty and sugary. But usually he buys Cilly's favourite which are double chocolate chip cookies.

???──Very simple, quaint sugar cookie. The first real... luxury they're attached too. They enjoy the process of making them too.

[snippychicke]

So, if you didn't know, someone pulled me into a new fandom. *cough @avellanas-nutty-empire cough* Welcome to Denon School, Iruma-kun. And well, my dear friend also found me a new husband in the fandom. Balam Shichiro. But, to my abject horror, there isn't much fic for him, and well... I had to fix that. I found a prompt list (link here) and here's the first part of fluff.

Nothing is linear, as it captures different moments in Balam/reader's relationship. Also, no plot. Just fluff and the smallest dash of angst.

1: Hugging from behind, laying their head on the other's shoulder.

Even with Balam sitting at the low table, hunched over his latest book he was working on, you were barely much taller. But, as always, it didn't bother you any to be reminded how tall he was. Instead, you quite liked being able to wrap your arms around his waist, resting your chin on the mass of feathers covering his shoulders.

He paused, leaning slightly into your embrace. As much as he was compulsively touching others, he was almost even more addicted to the feeling of others touching him.

"What's this one about?" You asked as you nuzzled your nose against his neck, feeling him hum in conetment.

"I've decided on comparing the differences between hell cats and the cats of your world," he answered, gently flipping to the first page, where a hell-kitten and a 'normal' kitten were curled together. It still astonished you how absolutely adorable his artwork was, and you didn't hold back your awe at the cute image.

"It's so cute!" You pressed a kiss to his cheek above his metal mask, grinning as his pale skin turned dark with a blush. "I can't wait to read it!"

2: Breathing in the other's smell

Balam loved it when you showered in the evening instead of the morning. In the morning, you were getting ready for work at Babyls, so as soon as you were out, you used the perfume that masked your scent.

(He fully understood and appreciated Sullivan's ingenuity at such a simple way to hide you (and Iruma) so easily. You both still stood out, but marked as Sullivan's kin, and no one would dare question it after the pheromones of the chair-demon hit their noses.)

But in the evening, you didn't use the perfume. Why would you, when it was just you and him settling in for the night? And hell, you were divine.

It wasn't as he had initially theorized, that your scent was akin to a three-course meal placed before a starving demon. Nor was it quite as mind-altering as a succubus's pheromones.

In fact, there was no real way to describe it, other than addicting and consuming. While he always wanted to hold you close, on those nights he had to touch you. To hold you as close as possible to his chest, feeling like if he did, maybe a part of him would melt into you, or maybe you would impart a piece into him, and he'd finally be at peace.

It was the scent of being home, being content, being happy.

Later, he learned it wasn't so much the scent of a human that left him so near bliss. It was because it was your scent.

3: Whispering to each other.

Balam placed a cup of tea on the desk in front of you as he quietly took a seat. Monthly faculty meetings were always such 'fun' considering how early in the morning it was, and usually on a monday to boot.

"I owe you so much," you leaned over and whispered as Kalego started the meeting. "You saved my life."

"Nonsense," he whispered back, his hand finding yours to briefly squeeze before threading your small fingers with his. "It's just tea."

"Yes, but if I fell asleep now, I'm pretty sure Kalego would kill me."

Balam chuckled at that. "I'll protect you, even from him."

At the head of the staff table, Kalego was very aware of you two whispering back and forth, but surprisingly held his tongue and simply ignored it as he continued.

He didn't care so much about your happiness, but seeing his old friend smile behind his mask made him forgive the transgression. Balam deserved to be happy, and if you made him happy, well, so be it.

At least Kalego knew you weren't plotting something behind the demon's back. You were too kind, too earnest, like your son, to do such things.

4: Cuddling on the couch.

He always had difficulty reigning in his urge to touch and hold people. And those moments usually never last long as others found quick escapes.

Not you, however. If anything, you pressed closer to him whenever he started mindlessly petting your hair. Hell, you would come up to him and just press into his side whenever you were stressed or overwhelmed. Bury yourself in his side, draping his arm over your shoulder, as if to hide from the world.

It only made him want to hold you more. Lunches were spent in his classroom, you nestled on his lap as you both enjoyed your meals. Walking through the halls with his arm wrapped around you.

Relaxing in the evening in a tangle of limbs on the couch as you told him about the human world, or maybe as he taught you about the realm you now called home.

5: Walking hand in hand

Balam’s large hand slipped over yours, his fingers tangling with yours as you walked through the halls. You looked up at him, a bit surprised, but he continued to talk about the latest antics of the Misfit class as if it was nothing unusual.

You bit back a smile and squeezed his fingers lightly, happily accepting his gesture as your heart thumped in your chest.

6: Playing with each other's hair

"Are you sure about this?"

"Absolutely! I've wanted to do this for a long time now! And now that your hair's growing back out…

You pulled Balam's shoulders back towards the edge of the tub, nestling his shoulders between your legs that dangled into the warm water. He looked up at you, still rather dubious but sighed and leaned his head back into your hands.

You squirted some shampoo into your hands, working up a lather before attacking. You low-key loved his wild hair, no matter how scary everyone else had feared it when it was about as long as you were tall. You had bit back tears when he cut it, and held your tongue at the time, still unfamiliar with the gentle demon.

But now, it was growing out as he molted, and you were very happy, and very much in a position to play with it as you took your time washing it. It was soft as feathers running through your fingers, curling every so slightly after becoming wet. Yet, unexpectedly, the best part was the soft noises escaping from Shichiro as you massaged and scratched his scalp, and you swore you could feel him all but melt under your touch.

"I don't know about demon-kind," you finally spoke as you began to rinse his hair. "But grooming each other strengthened bonds for a lot of different species in my world."

Usually, this was when he'd get that hungry look in his eyes, desperate to learn and understand more. Instead, Shichiro hummed. "It's about the same here. The amount of trust required to allow yourself to be so vulnerable with another means it's usually only shared between kin and mates."

Once the shampoo was thoroughly rinsed, you started on working the knots out of the silky silver strands as you worked in the conditioner, your heart thumping in your chest. Iruma had explained that demonkind had different ways of courting other than the dating of humans, and yeah, you and Balam had fallen from what you considered friendship to something different, but you figured that was just how things sometimes progressed in the Netherworld, and too afraid to ask if there was more intention behind your relationship than two lonely beings taking solace in each other.

And it would be so easy to ask: “Is that what we are?” But there was that fear of ruining the moment, of whatever was in between you and him. So, instead, you pressed a kiss to his wet cheek and continued with your work.

7: Softly smiling at each other across the room.

The place was a whirlwind of activity, as was the norm when there was Kalego, Opera, Sullivan, and Iruma in a room together.

Balam wished he had sat next to you, but alas, you sat with the principal and Iruma on the other couch in Sullivan's grand room.

But, even if he couldn't touch you, he could watch you as you unconsciously pulled your son closer to you and away from the bickering adults. He knew you weren't the boys biological mother, but you often acted as if you were.

He had studied many mothers protecting and raising their young, and had he not known better, he would have counted you as one of them.

Your eyes drifted away from the arguement to him, and the annoyed expression on your face melted, and instead you smiled slightly, your expression conveying your exasperation.

He felt his heart thump in his chest as he smiled back, though mostly hidden by his mask. He could acknowledge he could be intense when studying subjects, even from a distance, without meaning to.

But whenever you caught him, you'd smile. Or even wave. The small detail was just one of many that made him even more fond of you.

8: Telling each other how proud they are.

"I don't know whether to lecture you or praise you for actually succeeding." Balam grumbled as he wrapped your hand and arm carefully. What was supposed to be a simple walk into some rather tame wilderness went, as usual, horribly.

You had stumbled across an injured baby hellcat. And, without thinking, had tried to calm it. One thing led to another, and for devil-forsaken reason, you decided after it scratched you to hell, to still use the magic human blood possessed and heal the same thing that attacked you.

"I've heard your lectures tend to last hours, so maybe we could save it for later?" You offered with that same embaressed smile as Iruma that quickly fell when he gave you a disapproving look. "I-I know how idiotic that was, but… Hell, we have a saying in my world. In for a penny, in for a pound. I already started, there was no use to give up halfway through."

"You could have died." Balam growled. "Be glad that was only a half grown kitten, and its mother wasnt around! A full grown hellcat could have torn you yo shreds. Or, if it was an elemental, roasted you alive. You have no magic, no way to protect yourself, let alone fight back. The netherwold is a dangerous place for someone like you. How could I have explained it to to Sullivan, or to Iruma, if it had killed you?"

He stopped himself as you looked away, shame obvious on your face. He sighed and cupped your face, encouraging you to meet his gaze once more. "I love the fact you care so much for other beings. That's your determined to help anything in need. Your compassion for those outside your kin is so rare among demons. That hellkitten would have died if not for you, you did save its life. But please, be more careful next time. I-I don't know if I could handle it if something happened to you."

There was still tears in your eyes, but a water smile on your face before you wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face in his shoulders. He didn't hesitate before returning the embrace, pulling you even closer with a hand tangled in your hair. "I'm so proud of you, but please don't ever do that again."

"I'll try to keep that in mind," you murmured into his feathers.

9: Leaning into the other person.

You were so tired, eyes crossing as you tried to re…ad the picture book explaining the different elements. It didn't help that Balam had given you some tea that helped sooth your tight muscles of avoiding detection amongst the other staff, or that the demon himself was sitting next to you, radiating heat and security as his hand mindlessly ran through your hair.

To be honest, you didn't realize you were leaning more and more into his side. Or even when your head came to rest against his chest. Balam hadn't even noticed it, engrossed in reading your own notes of the human world, until the book fell from your hand to the floor with a soft clatter.

He paused briefly, looking down only to realize you had fallen asleep. He smiled behind his mask, feeling his chest warm as he shifted to wrap his arm around your waist to keep you warm as you slept.

10: Feeling for the other person's hand.

"Oh, hey! There's a sale at the bookstore!" You exclaimed, seeing the banner flying in the wind. You didn't even look towards him, but your hand reached for his, bumping blindly before your small fingers wrapped around his and tugged him along.

Balam felt warm as he allowed you to pull him through the crowded street. Hewasn't quite sure what led him to an afternoon showing you around Magical Street, though he was certain Opera had a hand in it somehow.

Not that he was annoyed or irritated in the least bit. To be honest, he had been trying to think of ways to be able to spend time with you. Part because he yearned to learn more of your world, and you had so much more knowledge about it than Iruma simply because you were older. Yet, he would be lying to himself if he didn't admit part of him just wanted to spend more time around you. You had that same thirst for knowledge, and while around others you were shy and quiet, afraid to draw attention to yourself, he could see you opening up the more time he spent with you.

You didn't mind his skin-ship habits, didn't seem fazed anymore by his intimidating nature. If anything, you enjoyed his touches, smiled wherever you saw him, even if he accidently spooked you and caused you to startle.

You…enjoyed spending time with him, just as much as he enjoyed being around him.

[drritamarie]

Holiday Cheers, Plant-Based Style: Vegan Keto Turkeyless Turkey Loaf Bliss

Turkeyless Turkey Loaf is a tasty plant-based dish made with a blend of nutritious ingredients. Almond flour yields a dense, nutty foundation. Carrots provide vivid color, and onions add a sense of natural sweetness and savory depth. The wonderful flavor of this dish is derived from a small amount of salt, caraway seeds, and poultry spice. Psyllium powder and chia seeds help you to form this meal into the desired form.

[randomvarious]

Today's mix:

More Favorite Tools 01 by Gayle San 2001 Techno / Tribal Techno

My goodness, I have such a fuckin' glorious heater for you all today 🤩. Introducing More Favorite Tools 01, a throbbing clinic in highly rhythmic late 90s-early 2000s techno that was delivered by the great Gayle San to launch a successor series to Austrian dance label XXX Records' also prolific My Favorite Tools series. A native of Singapore, Gayle San managed to establish herself as both a veteran DJ and producer after moving to London in 1990 and racking up some residencies there.

So here she is with a blistering y2k-era set, lining up a whole slew of bone-rattling, floor-stomping bangers that range from the sci-fi dystopic to the toweringly tribal. There are really so many different strains of techno that are out there, but the common throughline that Gayle honed in on here is the super heavy and rhythmically dense kind; there's basically a matryoshka doll of rhythm in every single one of these selections here.

So let's highlight a couple crowning pieces on this thing. My favorite among favorites is actually a tune that I posted about recently in a write-up of another techno mix from 2001 called Audiophonic 5, by Christian Weber. This is Swedish techno wizard Adam Beyer's remix of UK workhorse Ben Sims' "Manipulated," a stunning Latin-tribal ground-shaker that surrounds vocal and horn samples from Cuban singer Albita's "Ta Bueno Ya" with a miasmic and pandemonious cavalry of all sorts of percussion. Such overwhelming, thooming-and-booming bliss in this one; an absolute all-timer as far as I'm concerned 👍.

And then there's Technasia's house-of-mirrors joint, "Cyclone," which leads with these frantically dissonant, vampiric synth stabs, and peaks whenever the four-on-the-floor kickdrums and clanging hi-hats run in tandem with those nutty stabs. A bit of satisfyingly freaky techno-horror there 😌.

So run this mix back-to-back with Misstress Barbara's similarly crafted Relentless Beats Vol. 1 and you'll be having yourself over two hours of mercilessly mashing techno madness from 2001, with all of it delivered by two of the genre's greatest DJs at the time, who both happen to be women as well, which is also a rarity for this genre in and of itself!

Listen to the full mix here.

Highlights:

Rino Cerrone - "Upwards Movement" The Advent - "Sketch Marks" Gayle San - "Chigo" Technasia - "Cyclone" Gayle San - "Lost in the Eastend" Ben Sims - "Manipulated (Adam Beyer Remix)" Jamsan - "Air Tight EP" DJ Shufflemaster - "Valley" Ben Sims - "Windows (Vincent D's O.T.T. Remix)" Oliver Ho - "Metaphysical (A-Side)" Gayle San - "Antenna" Oliver Ho - "Metaphysical (B-Side)"

[rainymorninlady]

Movies I'm looking forward to~ twisters. Nosferatu. And possibly the new joker movie.

I haven't seen the original joker movie but I love Joaquin Phoenix . Sorry if spelled his name wrong. He's vegan✨(I'm not anymore tho but i stopped eating meat at five years old)

My aunt said he wasn't cute in beau is afraid but I thought he was charming.

And I really like Glen Powell for some reason lol. Probably because he's cocky with a lil attitude. Meh

I'm in good mood cus went to gym and it's cool outside. My bf got switched to a diff jail. But he should be out in few days. My mom wants me to go with her to take dog to vet Saturday mornin. To emotionally support him. He's a big scaredy dog.

I'm gonna make oatmeal w raisins for breakfast. Tho we also have fresh eggs from neighbors farm.

Haven't been bulimic since monday. Also I am 149 pounds so I lost five pounds. Sorry don't wanna trigger anyone. I like to chat about this stuff tho.

I feel healthy and nourished and refreshed. Going to the gym in morning creates small form of bliss for me.

Yesterday I consumed lots of sauteed potatoes w onion. Two eggs and spinach. And a big southwest salad no cheese but the dressing had dairy.

That's it. But believe me I ate tons of those potatoes for breakfast and lunch so I was not restricting myself.

I feel so peaceful n full of love.

Tho I think I made a mistake when texting my bfs ex last night. Darn. Um. Well I won't go into it. But I think I made myself seem selfish or nutty. Or both. Ugh. Well. Fudge it I am not perfect but I try to be good.

Must do dishes again and parents laundry. N my own laundry.

[sleekervae]

A Pirate's Life | Pirate Radio [2]

Masterlist

A/N: Hello, it's me :). I'm back with our wet nautical noodle from sea. Hope you all enjoy

--

"C'mon Sally, wake up," Felicity's voice fluttered through and interrupted Sally's deep sleep. She groaned with contempt, "You promised you'd help me make breakfast, now get up!" Felicity urged.

Sally scoffed and threw the quilt down, her eyes prying open to stare blankly at the rust-riddled ceiling of their bunk room. Felicity was already hopping around on one-socked foot as she hurriedly dressed herself.

"What day is it?" Sally croaked.

Felicity sighed, "Magnificent Monday,"

"Oh, fuck that," she turned over in her bunk and pulled the quilt up again.

Magnificent Monday was an event the lads put on every six months, giving 200 contest winners -- yes, 200 people -- an afternoon to spend and tour the tanker. Sally had been around for two of these Mondays already, and she dreaded them each time. A hoard of strangers running up and down the halls, ripping through their inventory of music, crowding the sound booths, and screaming so damn loudly Sally wanted to walk the bloody plank.

"Nope! C'mon!" Felicity tore the quilt away, much to Sally's chagrin.

"Oi!"

"You'd promise you'd help me!"

"Alright! Alright!" Sally finally sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, "I'm up, already,"

The girls had been working all morning to fix up snacks for the contest winners. And sure enough, 11:30 on the nose, three large boats pulled up hauling demon-like hoards of screaming guys and girls. The lads of course were on pins and needles, egos at the ready to be stroked like their -- well, finish that sentence how you'd like.

While Felicity was finishing plating snack trays, Sally ventured out to the deck. She slid through the crowd, it was easy considering everyone's attention was pointed to Quentin as he welcomed them aboard.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to our boat of bliss!" he shouted jovially amongst the high-pitched chaos. Carl and Kevin watched from the railing, the joviality rubbing off on Carl. This was probably the most exciting thing he'd taken part in for as long as he could remember, his eyes stayed glued to Quentin as he introduced the DJs out.

"And here are your guides for the day: the Count himself!"

And true to his nature, the Count sauntered out with a cigarette between his lips, followed by the ever suave "Gavin Cavanaugh! The legendary Simple Simon Swafford!"

Simon ran out with a clown horn, the honking lost amongst the cheering.

"The magnificent Doctor Dave! Mr. Bob Silman the Dawn Treader! And motor mouth: Midnight Mark!" the pitch of excitement raised an octave when Mark appeared, as though the cheering hadn't already reached its limit.

"Our man with the news, Mr. Subtle Sectionalist himself: John Mayford!" John blushed bashfully as he made eye contact with some girls, he took off his specs to wipe the fog away. Sally found it endearing.

"And last but not least," Quentin finally announced, "Angus Nutty Nutsford!"

Angus came jumping out like a clown from a pea-sized car, however much to his chagrin, and some of the other lads' amusement, the cheering immediately died down as soon as Angus appeared. Even as Simon and the Count tried to give him some applause and praise, nothing budged the sea of unimpressed fans.

Carl jumped when Sally suddenly spoke up from between him and Kevin, "Well, that's an unsurprising disappointment,"

"Where'd you come from?" he queried.

"South Shields. And you?" a playful grin sat on her face. Carl simpered quietly, drowned out however as the screaming started up once again as Quentin rolled off the day's itinerary.

The afternoon went just as Sally had expected; throngs of starry-eyed fans running up and down the halls and absolutely loosing their minds at watching the DJs at work. And of course the lads held nothing back when it came to showing off.

When Sally explained to Carl how chaotic these Mondays could be, he thought she was being dramatic. However, he found his ears hadn't stopped ringing through the whole of his and Simon's tour of the boat.

Despite the play and debauchery going on above, Sally still had to get the inventory ready for the late night and early morning shows. So, she continued to haul vinyls by the box load between the studios while the boys had the masses occupied elsewhere. However, she was none the wiser when two young men, one a pale ginger and the other a floppy-haired blonde, slipped into the studio, eyeing the place around before they inevitably focused in on Sally flipping through records.

The blonde, a tad more confident than his ginger counterpart, quickly checked his breath and smoothed out his hair before approaching her cooly.

"Excuse me, love! Are you lost?" he questioned. Sally paused momentarily, rolling her eyes before feigning innocence.

"I don't think so," she replied, batting her lashes sweetly, "This is the DJs' booths, right?"

"Well, sure!" the ginger interjected, "But the rest of the tour is over for this segment. The rest of the party is upstairs,"

"We can take you back, if you'd like?" the blonde grinned.

Sally gasped audibly, "Wait, wait -- do you guys work here?" she asked, "Like, actually?"

"Why, of course!" the ginger leaned against Harold's stereo set up. The poor lad would have a fit if he saw the sweaty knucklehead smothering over his equipment, "We know every inch of this boat!"

His blonde mate sauntered closer to Sally, his eyes fluttering low, "You know, we'd be happy to give you the private tour, if you're interested,"

Sally would've bursted out laughing if she wasn't having so much fun putting them on. And here, she thought the lads were shitty flirts...

"Oh my God! That would be great! Except, oh wait -- I don't need a tour because I've already worked a year on this fucking boat!" she revealed.

Both of them took on the classic deer-in-headlights face, the blonde eerily silent while the ginger sputtered out some sort of retort.

"Hold on -- you work on this boat?" his eyebrows popped up.

"Crazy, innit?" Sally simpered, "And you two ain't the first twats trying to get an easy lay on these tours, neither. Nice try, though," she noted the ginger was still leaning against the stereo, "Please, don't touch the equipment,"

The ginger scoffed bitterly, however his mate had a different idea. After all, he was a man and this girl, though harbouring a sour attitude and dressed in ragged slacks and fuzzy pull over, was very pretty.

"Well, then -- how about you give us the tour, instead?" he suggested, "You probably know all the best secret spots on this tin can, eh?"

Sally rolled her eyes, "You couldn't pay me enough," despite her exterior confidence, she didn't like the dark shadow in this lad's eyes. And he towered over her, and even if she screamed it was slim to none that anyone with any common sense would hear her and come to her rescue.

"Oh, c'mon lass. Don't be that way. We won't bite ya too hard," he assured.

Carl meanwhile slipped into the studio, at Gavin's request to fetch his fedora. However, neither the strange lads nor Sally noticed him slip in. But it didn't take a rocket scientist to see these boys were trying to gang up on her.

"I said no," she huffed, "Now buzz off or I'll have you thrown overboard,"

"Oh aye?" the ginger simpered, "You and what army, eh? It's just you and us in this sodded shit hole,"

Carl's mouth moved before he could think straight, "And me!" he called.

The three of them turned around, all of them equally surprised to see Carl standing there. However Sally couldn't hide the relief on her face when she met his gaze.

"And who are you? The janitor?" the blonde questioned.

"Reckon he's here to swab the deck," the ginger grumbled.

Now, Carl wasn't the best when it came to confrontation. He'd been that way all his life, whether it came to school ground bullies or fessing up to his mum about his illicit extra curriculars, confrontation and being confronted turned Carl into a babbling mess. Still time however was different; he held his head high, straightened out his posture to take on some thread of authority. Though he supposed these boys probably had a few years on him, anyhow.

"I-It doesn't matter who I am," he started shakily, "What's important is that my -- shipmate," he pointed to Sally, "Asked you to leave her alone. A-And you'll do bloody well to do as she asks,"

Despite her slim hopes, Sally hung her head, figuring she was doomed. She admired Carl's effort, but he was about as threatening as a beach ball.

The blonde almost began to laugh at the scrawnier boy, "You tryna make a funny? I'll snap you like a toothpick," he took a step forward, to which Carl immediately took two steps back.

"You come within five feet of me and I'll be out the door and telling Quentin about what you sods are trying to pull before you can even get your zippers down. He'll be more than happy to kick you off the boat,"

That however seemed to get their attention. And Carl did have a point; he was close enough to the door he could make a mad dash and find someone who would really mess up the lads' day. Sally awaited anxiously, her gaze flickering between the two lads and Carl.

The boys glanced to each other, as though sharing the same thought and started for the door, "Fair enough, mate. We don't want no trouble, eh?" the ginger assured.

"She's all yours," the blonde spat begrudgingly. They sauntered out without another word. It was then Carl's shoulders dropped and he could visibly relax. He'd never had the balls to stand up for himself in a fight, though he supposed standing up for his friend was a different story. He couldn't fight for shit and he wasn't very fast, but like hell he would've let those lunatics have their way with Sally.

He turned his attention to Sally, who continued to stay put on her spot, watching the door like a vicious hawk. Carl approached her cautiously and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. That took her out of her headspace immediately.

"Are you alright?" he asked her.

She nodded quickly, her anxious frown replaced with that fronted grin, "Yeah, I've dealt with worse,"

He wanted to smile and join her, but his chest ached a little at that. Sally had regaled him with a couple stories of her father's beligerance; those two sods were likely a walk in the park in comparison.

She then did something he didn't expect; Carl was nearly thrown off balance as Sally hugged him tightly. Her actions betrayed the content expression on her face, and he hugged her back.

"Thank you, Carl,"

The rest of the peanut gallery tour had gone off without a hitch, save for the fact that Mark had persuaded more than half of the young ladies to join him in his room for some nautical sexual saturnalia. Needless to say, Carl was overcome with disbelief and a spark of jealousy as he peeked past a confrontational, albeit impressed Quentin as he told Mark and the ladies it was time for them to leave.

Summer was just around the corner, though spring continued to cling on with its frigid ocean breezes. The lads were having a round of cards in the mess hall, trying to recover from their previous night of drunken debauchery on the town while Gavin was smack dab in his broadcast. Carl had taken instead to spend some time with Sally. They were sequestered in his room; leaving the door cracked open mind you so the lads passing by wouldn't get any ideas.

Carl was sat up against his pillow, legs crossed while he fiddled with his lighter. He was silent as he listened to Sally read aloud from Dune. Her typically harsh Northern accent was softened, dripping like sweet honey with a performative quality in her tone.

His eyes flitted over the pilling fabric hairs hanging from her jumper collar, picking out the golden highlights in her hair, and glossing over the cuts and scratches in her knuckles. She appeared so sweet, a side of her Carl imagined not many of the lads got to see. Sally was relaxed around him, she herself would admit it was easy to be so around Carl. Perhaps because they were so close in age she didn't feel so looked down upon like she did with the other men. Nobody on the boat had ever taken an interest in Sally's books and life the way that Carl had; she appreciated him immensely for it.

A predatory look filled the old woman's features. She lifted her right hand away from the box and poised the hand close to the side of Paul's neck. He saw a glint of metal there and started to turn toward it.

"Stop!" she snapped.

Using the Voice again! He swung his attention back to her face.

"I hold at your neck the gom jabbar," she said. "The gom jabbar, the high-handed enemy. It's a needle with a drop of poison on its tip. Ah-ah! Don't pull away or you'll feel that poison."

Paul tried to swallow in a dry throat. He could not take his attention from the seamed old face, the glistening eyes, the pale gums around silvery metal teeth that flashed as she spoke.

"A duke's son must know about poisons," she said. "It's the way of our times, eh? Musky, to be poisoned in your drink. Aumas, to be poisoned in your food. The quick ones and the slow ones and the ones in between. Here's a new one for you: the gom jabbar. It kills only animals."

Pride overcame Paul's fear. "You dare suggest a duke's son is an animal?" he demanded.

"Let us say I suggest you may be human," 

Carl simpered under his breath, though loud enough for Sally to take heed. She turned to him curiously, "What? You find maniacal old women with poison needles funny?" she asked.

"No," he shook his head, "I just -- you know, you get really into the story. It's more fun when you read it," he replied.

Sally fought hard to let her lips turn up in a smile, a fight she ultimately lost as she glared at him, "Well... gotta' find some way to make you pay attention, don't I?" she countered.

"You don't have to do much," he let slip.

She averted her eyes back to the page, desperately skimming for her lost spot and praying Carl wouldn't notice the red tinting her cheeks and nose. Carl meanwhile tried not to squirm in his seat, internally scolding himself. He hoped he hadn't sounded like a major sod when he spoke.

Sally finally found her place again and was about to start reading, when there was suddenly a soft knock at the door. Carl sat up and Sally scooted away as Simon peeked his head in, his smile reminiscent of the daft dwarf from Snow White.

"Hey guys!" he almost sang.

"Simon," Carl stood up to greet him, "What can we do for you?"

"Well, Carl... my mate... my best mate," Simon took him by the neck, "I've got some news! I don't know why I'm singing, I can't even -- the words are coming out in tune! I'm so happy!" he looked to Sally who was doing her best not to laugh, intrigued and elated nonetheless to see Simon so excited.

"If I were the Count right now, I would definitely use the F-word to describe the level of this good news!" he started singing again, and Carl began to laugh, "Oh, come hug me! Come hug me, lad!" and he pulled the younger boy in for a hug.

"What is it?" Carl finally asked.

The disbelief was still clear in Simon's eyes as he turned back to Sally, "I'm getting married! To a woman!" and how hard she tried not to let the smile sink from her face. Simon had met a woman? When? Where? How?

When Simon had gotten his faculties together and his singing under control, he had rushed up to the mess hall to announce his nuptials to the boys. Of course, they applauded him as soon as he had announced it, while Mark couldn't seem to give a flying you know what as he lit up his cigarette.

"And give her one for the Nutster!" Angus called out.

Simon, rightfully so, shook his head, " -- I-I won't,"

"Well, what's the lovely lady's name?" Gavin asked.

"Elenore. She's an American!" he boasted.

God help us, Sally thought to herself.

Quentin had appeared in the doorway as the hype had settled down, "Well, I hope you all appreciate what this means? From next Saturday there will, for the first time, be a woman living on the boat. No offence meant, ladies," he nodded to Sally and Felicity.

"Oh, none taken, Quentin," Sally grinned scornfully.

"Me neither. I'm actually quite excited about it," Felicity added.

"Now, hands off, you lesbian!" Angus scolded at her playfully. Sally kept her mouth shut as the lads made some smaller quips and jokes.

Quentin continued, "But Elenore, of course, will be totally exclusive to her lucky husband here. I hope you gentlemen can take it," and he sauntered off again.

"For my eyes only!" Simon bragged.

"May I just say --" the Count cut in, "now that Quentin has departed, one word which I believe is the only word that now matters? And that word is..." he stared at Simon with a mischievous glimmer in his eye.

Simon nodded calmly, blushing nearly as he spoke, "Matrimony,"

He was close, as the Count suddenly shouted "STAG!" garnering cheers and applause from the rest of the boys. Carl of course was intrigued, his mind spinning with all the options of drunken debauchery they may get into.

As the hype died down, everyone's attention turned back to Angus. He had poised his hands on his head, fingers splayed out as he rocked back and forth and made the most obscene noises. Everybody was perplexed nonetheless, and Sally began to laugh. It took a moment before Simon could register what it was Simon was trying to do.

"Oh, he's a stag!" he realized, "I thought he was having a seizure! He's okay. He's fine!"

[superthatprotein]

Are you ready to level up your breakfast game? Look no further! 🌟 Presenting our delicious Nutty Nutty Peanut Butter Super Protein Pancakes recipe, packed with a power boost of our Nutty Nutty Peanut Butter Super Protein! 💪

These pancakes are the ultimate dream for all your helathy nutrition plans and pancake lovers out there. With every fluffy bite, you'll enjoy the heavenly taste of peanut butter goodness combined with the incredible benefits of our high-quality protein blend. 🥜🌰💪 So happy friday everyone and lets get our pncakes on!

[healthyfitlifestyle09]

Homemade protein shakes for weight gain

Homemade protein shakes can be an excellent way to support weight gain in a healthy and nutritious manner. Here are a few homemade protein shake recipes tailored for weight gain:

1. Peanut Butter Banana Bliss

Ingredients:

1 ripe banana

2 tablespoons of peanut butter

1 cup of whole milk or a dairy-free alternative

1/2 cup of Greek yogurt

1 tablespoon of honey (optional for sweetness)

1/4 cup of rolled oats

Ice cubes (optional)

Instructions:

Place all the ingredients in a blender.

Blend until smooth and creamy.

If desired, add ice cubes and blend again for a colder, thicker shake.

2. Chocolate Avocado Delight

Ingredients:

1 ripe avocado

1 cup of chocolate-flavored protein-rich almond milk (or regular chocolate milk)

1/2 cup of cottage cheese

2 tablespoons of honey

1 teaspoon of unsweetened cocoa powder

Ice cubes (optional)

Instructions:

Scoop the avocado flesh into a blender.

Add the protein-rich chocolate milk, cottage cheese, honey, and cocoa powder.

Blend until smooth and creamy.

Add ice cubes for a colder shake.

3. High-Calorie Berry Burst

Ingredients:

1 cup of mixed berries (blueberries, strawberries, raspberries)

1 cup of full-fat yogurt

1/2 cup of rolled oats

1/4 cup of almonds

2 tablespoons of honey

1/2 cup of whole milk or a dairy-free alternative

Instructions:

Combine the mixed berries, yogurt, rolled oats, almonds, honey, and milk in a blender.

Blend until smooth.

Adjust the thickness by adding more milk if needed.

4. Nutty Chocolate Banana Shake

Ingredients:

2 ripe bananas

2 tablespoons of almond butter

1 cup of whole milk or a dairy-free alternative

1/4 cup of plain Greek yogurt

2 tablespoons of unsweetened cocoa powder

1 tablespoon of honey (optional)

Ice cubes (optional)

Instructions:

Place the bananas, almond butter, milk, Greek yogurt, cocoa powder, and honey in a blender.

Blend until smooth.

Add ice cubes for a frosty texture.

Remember to customize these recipes according to your preferences and dietary needs. You can adjust the sweetness, thickness, and calorie content by modifying the ingredients. These homemade protein shakes provide a balance of protein, healthy fats, and carbohydrates to support weight gain while being delicious and satisfying.

Read more helpful information about health & fitness :

[dulcewrites]

Mauled Hearts

Aemond has lost an eye, but gained a dragon. He is sure he is slowly losing much of his sanity, but he has gained an equally nutty friend.

I had this small little au idea for what would happen if Myrah came to King’s Landing sooner than she did in Finding Common Cause. It sort of spiraled into me writing this because I’m super curious about that time jump after the driftmark incident. So much happened and it’s a shame we didn’t get it in the show imo. This picks up right after Driftmark. I see Aemond being 11/12 and Myrah is 13

Aemond is late for dinner… again.

Alicent tries not to fixate on the empty seat on the other side of the table. She often had to tell herself nothing was wrong, even when she could feel the eventual doom in the pit of her stomach.

When he didn’t arrive with his sibling, she sent Criston out to find him. She made the rules clear very to all of them. No flying right before or right after dinner. Always, always, tell a guard where you are going to be. She reminds Aemond of this the most. Doing it every morning while she watches the maesters repatch his eye bandages. He grows restless with them by the day. The bandages and the maesters. Opting to redo them as soon as they leave the room.

Alicent just watches. Tongue tingling to say something. Fingers itching as well. She doesn’t know if that is the urge to help her son feel better or the urge to peel her skin from her body. Starting with the fingers till is freyed and left open.

Aemond hates the help he receives. He was always far too precocious for his age. She often thinks he came out of the womb with the world on his shoulders. A difficult birth on her part leading to a haughty attitude passed to him. It’s only compounded since the indecent. He insist on doing things himself as much as possible, despite looking miserable some of the time.

Aegon loudly blows air out of his lips, staring at the meat pies that have yet to be touched. Alicent raises a brow at him, and he raises one back. Defiance and annoyance written on his face.

She can’t help but wonder if that is how she looks everyday. Same melancholy, detached eyes.

It makes her plaster a fake smile on her as the kitchen maids continue to cart out food. The meal was not to start till everyone had arrived; another rule of hers.

The seat next to her is also empty, but she is far more grateful for that. Viserys had locked himself in his room since receiving the raven a week ago.

Rhaenyra and Daemon. Married. Celebrating their newlywed bliss.

He had bitched and moan about it while Alicent tried to hold back a bile helping him change. The nauseous feeling was for serveral different reasons. She always noticed the way Daemon’s eyes trailed people. Daemon Targaryen was a simple man, or at the very least his stunted mind only allowed him to register few emotions on his face. His eyes only computed hatred and toleration; within those two camps came a spectrum of other things under the surface. Anyone less used to watching and observing as Alicent would miss it.

She saw the looks of wanting enacted on Rhaenyra from her uncle.

“I swear it! On the memory of my mother!” Rhaenyra said, and silly Alicent belived it. No wonder everyone lies to her; she makes it so easy for them.

It was only a matter of time before Rhaenyra was another fly in his web. Alicent recognized the lust like she did the hatred.

You don’t hate me because of my father. You hate me because I married your brother. Do you wish you were in my place? Do you wish Rhaenyra was him? Can’t get the acceptance you want from your big brother so you patiently wait for the day that years of gifts and lurking comes to fruition.

Targaryens were terribly funny like that. It would not the most far fetched idea in theory. Daemon viewing Rhaenyra as an extension of Viserys. The way Alicent is always viewed as an extension of her father.

Another no show at dinner. He had the same disgusted response to Rhaenyra and Daemon’s marriage but for different reasons. Otto never hid his distain for Daemon and vice versa. Alicent was envious of them in that regard. Daemon especially. How his emotions were able to ebb and flow freely. No one to tell him he wasn’t valid in them.

She had one moment of anger. A flash of something that burned underneath the surface from the day her mother was buried in the ground, from the moment her stay of King’s Landing became permanent, from the moment she had to lay on her back and have Viserys on top of her. Night after night. Put her body on the line to bear him four children.

She defends herself once, tries to avenge what happened to her son, and she gets whispers of 'mad queen' in court. Somedays, she wants to prove those people right and have their tongues cut out.

But Alicent cannot even pretend to be that cruel. The way others around her cannot pretend to not be that cruel. She immediately apologizes with white hot guilt and shame burning her body while members of her so called family just literally burn everything in their wake. People included.

Lady Rhea dead, Laena dead, then Laenor shortly after. A titled lady and two dragon riders in their own right, all gone. What is to say she and her children will not be next?

"You are not foolish enough to think they have nothing to do with his death, right," her father looked exasperated by her wide eyed look of shock when she learned about Laenor.

Now you see her what she is. What the king's stubbornness has wrought.

She had no comeback when Otto reiterated that same sentiment days ago. No argument for what is the truth. At times, she just wanted to scream at Viserys to wake up. To realize that he is the fucking king; if he does not want his precious daughter in harm's way, he could stop it easily. If he does not want Rhaenyra and Daemon married, he could make it so. If he wanted his daughter to not have bastards or have no one whisper about their parentage, he could have told her to watch herself after the first boy came out just as plain featured as his father. What is stopping Viserys from wielding that power other than his own cowardice? He could have stopped it all the moment before he decided to remarry.

The Mad Queen and the Cowardly King, what a horrid pair they make.

But Alicent has quickly learned that the only time Viserys feels comfortable reminding everyone he is king is often at her expense. And now at the expense of the children he had with her.

On cue, Criston and Aemond stroll into the dining hall.

Aemond cheeks are a bit pink when he finally plops down. Alicent opens her mouth to ask him where the seven hells he’s been, but out of the corner of her eye she sees Criston shake his head slightly. As if to say, we can talk about this later.

They had gotten good at that. Shared looks of communication.

Alicent tries to read between the lines as dinner goes on, but it to no veil as Aemond won’t meet her gaze. Helaena whimsically makes her way through a story about Dreamfyre. By the time dinner is done, Alicent’s interest is far too piqued in what Criston will tell her to even move from her spot.

The kids all give her a kiss goodnight as the evening turns. Before he leans to kiss her on the cheek, Alicent grabs Aemond’s arm softly.

“Is there something you want to tell me?”

His face scrunches in a way that Alicent assumes may be painful because of the healing stitches. He looks over at Criston for a moment then back at his mother.

“You look pretty today.”

Alicent almost laughs at the gall of her second boy. Almost.

“Thanks,” she says dryly as he pecks her. The last of the guards take him away to his room.

Alicent by passes the small goblet in front of her, and goes straight for just the wine jug itself. Criston takes a seat at the table, watching as Alicent downs the wine. She knows when she leaves, she will have to go visit Viserys. Make sure is isn’t slumped over his stupid model, like she found him a couple nights ago.

Or gods willing choked on his own vomit.

“So,” Alicent waits for an explanation.

Criston opens his mouth, then closes it. She can tell he is trying to think of the words to say.

“I do not want you to be upset, your grace.”

Alicent rolls her eyes. He’s always brought would the formalities when he had to tell something bad. She wonders what trouble her children have gotten into now.

“Aemond has a friend.”

She blinks surprised. That was not what she was expecting.

“A friend?”

“Hmm,” he chews on lips. “A friend… that is a young lady.”

“What,” she says it far louder than she intended to. Startling even the kitchen help that come to pick up the plates. She lowers her voice once they are alone again. “What?”

“She is innocent and harmless,” Criston warns. “Well, mostly harmless.”

“Mostly,” Alicent voices gets a bit high.

“They read together. One time I caught them collecting butterflies for Helaena which was nice and -“

“Helaena knew too?”

Criston grimaces. It is a look he has been giving her a lot lately. This look of horrible pity but also cautiousness. Like he is expecting another knife related incident to take place at any moment. Had she reach such lows that Criston of all people was worried about another rage filled outburst?

Alicent slumps in her chair. Even while being painfully attentive, she still manages to never get her children. The kids did always have a knack for sneaking around. From the moment they could stand and walk on both legs, they managed to evade her. On one hand, she could chalk it up to childlike curiosity and recklessness. Something was squeezed out of her at a young age. But the other hand, she could not help think it was a omen for her relationship with her kids. No matter how hard she tries, there will always be parts of them out of her reach. Literally and figuratively.

“I also might have heard them chanting things in a language I did not understand. Then damning a girl named Becca.”

Alicent’s face shifts to mortification.

“But she’s a nice girl. A little strange but no one is forcing Aemond to be around her, so he must enjoy her company,” Criston comforts. “I would not let anything happen to him. Not again.”

Alicent swallows thickly. It was a shared guilt that ran through them. She goes over that night daily, sometimes multiple times a day. How she could’ve stopped it from happening the way it did. She knew how much Aemond wanted a dragon. She should’ve been down there with him. It may the Targaryen blood that gives him the ability to fly that behemoth he loves so much, but he is hers. All of them are hers. The fault of that night was lies at the adults’ feet, including Alicent’s

Her, Viserys, Daemon, Rhaenyra, Laenor.

So overcome with humiliation after Viserys called her Aemma, she retreated to her chambers and stayed there with little care for how it may look. That was till she got a frantic knock from Ser Westerling. Before that horrible knock, Criston watched her cry for a moment before leaving her to her own devices. She could tell he wanted to say something in that moment, but did not risk overstepping a boundary.

A boundary that was frankly overstepped the moment she found him in the Godswood with a blade pointed towards his chest. It was overstepped when she overrode her father’s pleas not to, and had Criston sworn to her.

Alicent, an avid reader in her girlhood, read about the bone rattling allegiance knights have to their queens. She often she fears she got the worst of the bunch. Steeped in honor and attentiveness as he is in violence.

To be fair, she is sure she would be prone to burst of vision blurring anger if she had to protect a family like this one.

At least it was something they could understand on a fundamental level - the utter macabre of a lifetime of servitude.

“Who even is this girl?”

Criston’s lips tilt up in a half smile. “Myrah. Myrah Everlane.”

Alicent tries to rack her brain for any memories of meeting people with the last name Everlane. She bustles around so many people daily, it is hard to keep up at times. It sounds vaguely familiar but not a house that she would keep on her radar.

“Well, maybe he can invite her to dinner one night?”

Alicent tries not feel hurt about Aemond not telling her.

“…. Sure you grace…. maybe,” Criston doesn’t look convinced.

How different can this girl be? She’s what? Ten and three at the most.

But then Alicent thinks about herself at that age. Anxious, unsure, and clinging to the only lifeline she had at the time…. A Targaryen of her own. It pains her to think about how her girlhood feels like a distant memory; how court changes young ladies. Suddenly her reservations for Aemond melt away.

Gods help whoever this Myrah is.

———

In a way, Aemond knew it would not work.

Despite all the books he had read about the magic of Old Valyria, and the how Targaryen blood is special, it would be a bust. He could not feel any less god like waking up each morning, and was no skill of ancestors of bloogmages that came before him here to guide.

But it was admittly wildly entertaining watching Myrah take it as seriously as possible. Right down to outfit she decided to wear. Wrapped in deep red, oversized silks she said she took from her mother. Half her of long hair pulled up with various gold hair accessories. Rogue smeared on her lips.

To be honest, she reminded more of the Braavosi and Lysene dancers that would be brought in for special occasions as the castle. More whimsical with girlish frolic than like a powerful maegi ready to do blood sacrifices. Not even the fire in front of them helping her cause.

Though completely in character, Myrah still insisted he be the one to work with the pig’s blood.

“If I get anything on this, my mother will use me as a blood sacrifice. She got this fabric the last time she was in Dorne,” she sniffed, large book in hand. “I still don’t understand why we had to use a pig and not something smaller like the last time.”

Aemond shifted uncomfortably. “Because I said so.”

“Because I said so,” she mocks under her breath. Sighing, she holds out her hand. Do you have your list?”

Aemond fiddles with his pocket before pulling out writing parchment and handing it to Myrah. Her brows shoot up towards her hairline.

“This is quite the list. You added punishments to the names?”

“Many people deserve to suffer and I want to be thorough,” he shrugs. Myrah nods slowly before reading the list outloud.

“Lucerys Rivers - ,” she stops herself tentively. “There was a rumor I heard that their father was… awfully strong.”

Myrah was a lot of things, Aemond thought. Brash was one of them. But brash in the way he appreciated. Not afraid to say the obvious outloud while keeping what she needed to close to the chest. When he tentively brought up wanting to curse those a little closer to him, Myrah nodded, good natured and understanding. Families are tough, and I’ve never cursed a king. It will prove my power.

“Strong and dead.”

“Lucerys Rivers - nothing but eternal suffering and haunted by the ghost of actual Velaryons till his eventual death... being fed to Vhagar. Jacaerys Rivers - burned alive. Rhaenyra Targaryen -,” she pauses again, holding the paper out. “What is that word.”

Aemond squints, even his own handwriting tricking him. “Umm, sharply.”

“Rhaenyra Targaryen - sharply put to question, eyes plucked out one by one. Viserys Targaryen - guilted, tongue chopped off, then pushed down the stairs.”

The last part made Myrah giggle as she handed the paper back to him.

“Alright, let’s do this,” she flips some pages in the book before straightening her book regally. Letting her large eyed flutter shut she begins speaking in Qohorik. Myrah had picked the Low Valyrian dialect quickly. It makes Aemond wonder how she would fair with High Valyrian. It rolls of her tongue smooth like silk. He had noticed how entrance he was till she opened her eyes expectantly, eyes darting to the blood then to the fire.

“Oh,” he realized it was his turned.

He crumbled his enemies list and threw it into the fire. Followed by blood of the pig. It was an ordeal of itself getting it. Sneaking into the kitchen with one of his Valyrian steel blades. Myrah was of course a terrible lookout. Eyes wandering to the tarts sitting out versus the door. Luckily enough, they were only caught by Criston, who gave them a strange look then a resigned sigh before walking Aemond back to his room then Myrah back to hers.

They sit there in silence watching it all get mangled in the fireplace.

“Well, that was anticlimactic,” Aemond snorts. “Just like the last time.”

Myrah closes the book. “These things take time.”

“Has Becca from back in the Vale been damned to enternal sadness yet,” he challenges.

“No,” she narrows her eyes. Deep pools of amber darkening. “But I expect for my friends to write me any day now about how miserable she is.”

Aemond shrugs, not convinced as his vision was trained on the fire. He used to think something was wrong with him. Guiltily blaming the Hightower in him. That is must’ve done something to the Targaryen blood. But really, he is just unlucky.

He is not God like his ancestors said Targaryens were. He is terribly mortal. A one-eyed mortal. Fake blood magic or not.

“I need to make sure I’m not late for dinner again,” he says abruptly, suddently feeling that familiar pit of sadness in his gut

Myrah frowns a bit. “What’s wrong?”

“Who said anything was wrong?”

“You have that dopey, awful look on your face.”

Aemond looks over at her with the best glare he can muster. Myrah’s face doesn’t change, a serene calmness marrying her face. He hates how everyone looks at him these days. Sympathy or… disgust. It makes him hate leaving his room. But Myrah just looks through him, as if she never notices the bandages that cover have his face.

“I overheard some people speaking about my eye,” he mutters, embarrassed.

Something flashes behind Myrah’s eyes. “Fuck them. Fuck court and fuck King’s Landing too.”

Aemond is a bit taken a back by her choice of words, but he had heard the sentiment before. The luster of the Red Keep worn off quickly with Myrah. Finding the politicking and fakeness nauseating.

“I was so excited to come here, and now I’d take the Vale with all its sheep and mountains and windchill over this place. There’s no Lady Tyrell asking my parents where they are really from or stuffy old people who have nothing better to do than talk about other’s wealth or lack thereof.” She takes a deep breath after her spiel. “Whether you have one eye, or both. Or you’re missing any other limbs, you’re still Aemond Targaryen. Prince of the realm and rider of the largest dragon in the world. If anyone makes fun of you, that says more about them than it ever will about you.”

She pauses for a moment.

“And when in doubt you can just feed them to Vhagar.”

Well… she’s not wrong about that.

Myrah leaves him with the pep talk, and then a squeeze of the hand. He hopes it wasn’t sweaty when she did. He tries not to meet Criston’s gaze as they walk to dinner.

“Did you have fun?”

All Aemond can do is hum nonchalantly. Not trusting his voice, or the uneven way his heart beats.

[tumb1rprincess]

There are people who know about Sand Cave and Nutty Putty Cave and people who live in ignorant bliss.

[yourssinfullyquiche]

RANDOM headcanons (PART II)

*Pictures do not belong to me and are taken from Google and Unsplash

I've had to cut one of the headcanons out T^T. It's just too long & it's exceeding tumblr's word limit. Maybe I'll include it in one of my future fics ^_^

Gavin x you

WC: 2298

Beta: Quiche

Enjoy reading~

-

When you turned away from him for how shocked, angry and disappointed you were when the fatigue, sullenness and bruises you slowly discovered were actually from experimentations they were doing on him, something he actively volunteered for. It’s always the same spiel, “I did it to protect you”. You couldn’t stop the groan of frustration that escaped. Why? Why does he always think that? As if you’re incapable of understanding anything he does, as if that’s going to somehow remove or placate the dread you feel every time he leaves for a mission—the warmth of his kisses fading as soon as the sound of the engine disappears—as if everything he tells you will stop your thoughts from spiralling into the deep dark cold void of emptiness. Of course his words led to a painful fight and the next thing you knew, he fell on his knees hugging your belly so tightly, fingers digging into your hips refusing to let you go, burrowing into your warmth which quickly dampened with his silent tears. “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry. Pl-Please… don't. I’m scared.” It was the first time you heard him utter those words, panic and genuine fear in his voice and eyes. He never allowed himself to admit to being afraid. Maybe it was the harsh upbringing of his father or lack thereof, maybe it was his guilt for not saving his mother, maybe it’s because he felt like he would lose you if he did show his fears. Whatever the reason, your heart was torn asunder and you couldn’t bear to see the light of your life losing its core strength. Dropping to your knees, bringing his head gently to your shoulders, you caressed his back and combed your fingers through his soft amber strands, massaging his scalp. As his sobs mellowed, you cupped his cheeks forcing him to look you in the eye. “I was only going for a drive. I’m not going to leave you. Not ever. But please listen to me, I can’t bear seeing you like this. You do so much for everyone but it’s not worth gaming your own life. You’re not protecting me like this, you’re only pushing me away. We promised, remember? To be there for each other no matter what, happy or sad. I can’t lose you too. So please, moving forward whatever happens we talk about these things and then we face it together.” With a shuddering breath, swollen eyes and a red nose, he nodded, conviction gleaming in his orbs. Regretful and determined, a little salty but most of all sweet, sweet blissful relief. That was how the affectionate adjoining tasted. 

“Hey, stop that.” Those words coupled with a bewildered look were the first to greet you when you turned around—one hand holding a jar of crunchy Biscoff spread, the other, a butter knife with patches of the spread still evident. “What? I’m just eating”, you shrugged at his nonplussed face and continued scooping more of the spread. Satisfied with the amount, your taste buds were about to rekindle its experience with the textured caramel nutty, gingery flavour when the utensil was snatched from your palm. “With a butter knife??” Gavin's voice engaged a higher pitch matching his incredulity. “It’s dangerous! I don’t want you to get hurt. Why don’t you use a spoon like a normal person?” This from the man who climbs in through the windows of your shared home instead of using the perfectly able door which has you suffering from mini heart attacks all the time. But you pushed that thought aside as you were more interested in satisfying your taste buds. “Butter knives are blunt, it won’t hurt me. Shouldn’t you be the expert of that?, your tone quiet but sassy as you grabbed the butter knife still covered with spread, quickly licking it before Gavin could pull it out from your grasp, a triumphant look forming on your face. And that began the cat and mouse chase with you brandishing the utensil—only you could go so far as you were no match for Gavin’s athletic body and speed. One muscular arm quickly scooped you up as if you weighed nothing and placed you on the marble counter—both hands on either side of your waist effectively trapping you. You stared at his face laughing at his expression—he sucks at being upset with you. So you coyly lifted the butter knife again just to provoke him. He grabbed it and glared at you. “Stop doing that. Or I-I’ll...” he trailed off, all bravado disappeared in an instant as you provoked him further, teasing for a consequence when you sensed Gavin’s reluctance. So, you were utterly surprised when the words “no kisses” were thrown. As much as his glares and smugness might fool others, it was not fooling you. You knew Gavin risked losing in this too, there was no way he was going to give up kisses. Daintily wrapping your arms around his neck and legs around his hips, you brought him closer and whispered coquettishly, “You sure about that? We both know who loves kisses moreee.” Cheeks tinted pink, Gavin suppressed his embarrassment with a cough and protested but was interrupted when a quick kiss wetted his lips thereby whetting his appetite with need. One kiss teased another and a two and before you knew it, he had his tongue down your throat, the remains of Biscoff sweetening the taste. The kiss, eager like its owner, had you arching your body towards him, hands grasping fistfuls of his hair. With a bite to your lower lip, Gavin pulled away, heavy shaky breaths warming your nose and you were finally released from your daze. “See,” you said but your own breathless voice was betraying your stance. “We both lose,” Gavin said with an air of conspiracy while smirking in his victory. “I may have started all the other kisses after the first but you were the one pulling my neck closer and that led to our last hot kiss.” You rolled your eyes at his mirthful glance and exaggeration, groaning out a reluctant “fineeeee”. Acquiescence was gained but no promises of completely abandoning your habit were made—that chase ended with one final Biscoff filled kiss. 

The wails of the baby had Gavin kissing your sweaty temple, thanking you for giving a gift so precious he swore he would protect him with every fibre of his being. When he held his baby boy in his arms, like all new parents, he was afraid if he could be a good father to his son—one that was unfortunately missing in his own life growing up. But when those big curious brown eyes stared at him, feeling comfortable in his father’s presence, Gavin sealed a promise with tears that this child would never grow to feel the loss of a father’s love. The boy, cautious and quiet but a kind soul that loves so fiercely, revered his parents. The girl gave a scare at first when her cries were not heard. An inexplicable pain, terror and defeat coursed through your body causing you to howl in anguish—Gavin remained beside you failing to comfort you as he himself was overcome by emotions, when ever so slightly her soft wails echoed in the room. No amount of words could describe the utter relief and joy felt as the both of you shared a tearful hug. Gavin was overjoyed to spoil his honey-eyed little princess. A rambunctious soul that brings a smile on both your faces even on the darkest days. So sunny and cheeky in personality, and protective of her family but cries so easily that at times can only be comforted by her father. The boy was quietly happy to have someone to play with, someone that he knew if fights were to happen, he could still count on her—someone that he will love and cherish. 

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A/N: Thank you for reading and welcome new followers!❤️

Delve into my world~