#still working on the title here

[mercurygray]

Golden Needle, Silver Thread

I'm so excited to finally get this idea on paper - it's an OFC idea I've had bouncing around in my head for a little while for House of the Dragon and I'm so glad she finally found her name.

Fandom: House of the Dragon Warnings: Implied sexual situations, Aegon being Aegon

The men were back early this afternoon.

She was getting used to thinking quickly on her feet, since she'd come here - things moved much faster than they did at home, and here even the smallest thing, like the house's menfolk coming back from a hunt, was a cause to be wary.

The shift she was mending was still in her lap, but her fingers folded, underneath it, around her scissors, small but sharp enough to hurt. It would be better to have a knife, her sister Hylda had said, but that can't always be hidden.

Her sister had also told her to sit watching the doors for occasions like these. But why, she'd asked, confused as anything. Because of the house, her sister had said darkly. And because of the men.

The door opened and she rose from her chair, pleasant as anything and never once surprised, the scissors hidden in her hand.

"Prince Aegon,” she said brightly. “You're home early."

After six months, she knew her sister had been right to say it. This house. And this man.

A great honor, the letter to her parents had said. Position in the royal household as mistress of the robes - a lady in waiting to the Princess Helaena. I have had good reports of your daughter Iselde's conduct, and her care and attention to detail in all matters of deportment and grace...

"You'll be serving the royal family, just like your brothers," her grandmother had said happily from her seat by the fire. The Queen's letter was still out on the table, written in a clear hand and carrying her personal seal, the flame within a seven-pointed star, distinct in deep green wax.  "What an honor for the Cargylls - two names in the White Book and a lady in waiting!"

"Honor indeed," Hylda had said darkly, and wouldn't say more until Gran had gone to bed.  "Look, Sis, Gran hasn't been to court since the days of Good Queen Alysanne. It's changed a bit there since then."

Iselde knew her lessons well enough, the great family trees that her mother had made sure they all knew by heart. Jaeherys married Alysanne, and had issue, 13 children, which was unlucky, since all of them died, and his grandson Viserys married once for love and once for duty, and had issue, two daughters and three sons...

And oh, what sons.

Was it any wonder none of the other ladies liked to be here? It was easier to find them in Queen Alicent’s rooms, huddled around their aunts and mothers, sharing the day’s gossip. The only threat there was Prince Aemond and his prattle of the practice yard. His brother was a different beast entirely, and one to be avoided if you liked your virtue. 

The Prince looked to be in low spirits today - his boots were splattered with mud and his cloak would need a good brushing, but there was no evidence of blood anywhere on his person - usually a sign that he hadn't managed to make a kill while they were out. That would leave anyone in a foul mood, but Aegon more than most.  "The sport was poor and my horse was tired," he reported. “How long were we out, Cargyll?”

Behind him, her brother Arryk looked even more uncomfortable in his muddy white cloak. Visenya had meant for the Kingsguard to be royal bodyguards, but she’d never planned her uniforms for some of the things the Tagaryens got up to. “A good four hours, your Grace.”

“Four hours,” the Prince said, throwing his gloves down on the table. “And not a fucking thing to show for it except a sore backside. Now, where is my lady wife?" he asked, clearly not thrilled by the prospect of finding her. "The maesters have told me the moon is good for making babies this week and my balls need to breathe."

Iselde took a step away from her chair and steeled her shoulders. “His Grace shall have to come back later," she said, planting herself in front of the door, mindful still of the scissors in her hand. "The Princess is indisposed at the moment."

No one had told her that standing up to the Prince would be part of her regular responsibilities. She thought, perhaps, now that no one had told her that because no one had dreamed it could be done.  But Aegon still seemed …amused by it.  He stared at her a moment and then laughed. "What a perfect tyrant your sister is, Cargyll. See how she stands and turns me away! Perhaps I'll have her instead,” he said, stepping forward a pace or two and moving her closer towards the door. “Since it seems Helaena's out. My grandsires took second wives to serve their pleasures,” he added, his short blonde hair just brushing her face, and she could smell clove on his breath - the spiced wine he liked in the morning to chase away the night before. “What's to stop me? I've got a needle here in need of a case and a strong hand to get it there." He leered closer, her back against the smooth wood of the door so she could feel all of him, and over his shoulder she could see her brother glowering, his hand on the hilt of his sword.

"I doubt your mother would approve," Iselde cut in quickly, before Arryk had a chance to say anything out of turn. (Brothers were like that, weren't they? And one of these days they'd say something and Aegon would make them regret it.) "A Crownlands girl is hardly good enough for the heir to the throne." She tried to make it sound like logic. Alicent liked her well enough as a lady in waiting, but a daughter - or a second wife? Hardly likely. Iselde could still remember her parents discussing the news of Aegon and Helaena's wedding, and how the Queen had held her tongue and would not touch her wine. Everyone was still reeling a bit from the Princess Rhaenyra's abrupt marriage to her uncle, two years before, and a second Targaryen marriage was...rather a lot.

"Bugger my mother," the Prince said dismissively. "A Crownlands girl's good for what I need now."

"Perhaps at the Bell they'll have sweeter sport, my prince," Arryk interrupted. "You know my sister's unbedded and unlikely to serve you well."

"And your lady mother did say she would look in," Iselde added, on a whim.

It was a game they played, a kind of hellish pass the parcel, trying to distract him away from the goal. But that did it - Aegon wasn't threatened by many things, but his mother finding him trysting wasn't high on his list of desires - an unhappy consequence of too many such instances as a younger man. The chances of Alicent visiting in the middle of the afternoon were slim - she was far too busy with the Small Council - but Aegon didn't know that, and it worked. He snarled and pulled away, departing the room in a whirl of cloak and sword, Arryk in close and grateful pursuit to one of his regular Flea Bottom stews.

Iselde leaned back against the door and breathed again, feeling the metal of the scissors in her hands, warm now that she’d been holding them so close for so long. He was worse when Erryk or Arryk attended him - a cheap amusement to see them squirm while he said the most vile things. On days when Ser Criston or Ser Loras were with him he paid her no mind at all. He hates his marriage - hates that he's had to wed his sister when no one else in the realm would need to. That's all it is.

She heard the lock turning behind her, and quickly stepped away from the bedroom door, hastening back to her chair and her sewing before the Princess peeked out, freshly arisen from an afternoon nap.

"You said I was indisposed again."

It was always a statement - never a question. Iselde nodded. The truth was always best, with Helaena. Not because she saw it, the way the others always said she did. The Princess only liked straightforward people. It was one of the first things Iselde had learned, when she'd first come to King's Landing. Aegon likes wine, Aemond likes books, and Helaena likes things that crawl, and the truth. "I thought you would not like to see him, your grace. He was... in an amorous mood."

"You're good at lying," Helaena said simply. "Like Mother is." She looked at Iselde's sewing, and the front of her gown. "Did he touch you?"

She knew there wasn't any harm meant by the question, but it still hurt her to answer.  "Only a little." 

"It bothers you, when he does that. Because you think it bothers me."

I know it doesn't bother you, Iselde thought to herself, her heart tight in her chest. But it feels disloyal, somehow - that he should be so open in scorning you. I know that it would bother other women, to have their husband look at someone else. But I know you are not like other women are, and your marriage is…different, too.

"He does it to everyone," Helaena continued, unperturbed. "Mother thinks I don't notice but I do. But you're the only one who distracts him with it. To be kind to me." 

Iselde had to still her needle, and swallowed. “I hope I am kind, your Grace,” she said, and meant it. There’s so little kindness in the world for women like you.  But there was something else. “He’ll be back this evening, I think. The maesters said -”

Helaena nodded - she’d already heard. How long had she been lying there, behind her door, listening? She hears more than people think she does. “They are right, in their accounts?”

Iselde nodded. Mistress of the robes meant mistress of the sheets, and the bleeding cloths, and every single speck of clothing sent to the laundrywomen. That was where the maesters got their information, but she knew Halaena’s moon cycles as well as her own. The twins were nearly a year old, now, but an heir and a spare wouldn’t do for the House of the Dragon. Helaena must have another child.  “I’m just fixing the shift you like,” she said, holding it up for the Princess to see. “The one that doesn’t scratch. And I’ll have the kitchen send up a tea, and put a hot stone in the fire, for after.”

“He’ll want wine.”

“He can get that in his own apartments,” Iselde said, her voice sharper than she meant it to sound, jabbing the needle into her work.

 Helaena laughed - a short, happy sound. “Who needs a dragon to guard you when you have a goose?”

Most women wouldn’t like being called a goose, Iselde thought, watching the Princess dip into her collecting boxes to pull out her centipede and let it play through her hands. But that’s the Cargyll crest, and I suppose I do guard you, your Grace. And maybe it’s not as noble as a dragon - but everyone knows what it’s good for, at least.

--

Thanks for reading! If this sounds like something you'd like more of, I love comments, tag commentary, or just old fashioned asks!

[rainymoodlet]

this is the police- the sim is too hot, i repeat- (arizona sutton, she/they)

[daffi-990]

✨ Inspiration Saturday ✨

So instead of working on the WIPs I already have, my brain decided to think up a new one 😅

Current working title is LA Lonely and here is a mood board and a rough little summary:

Buck meets Eddie and they hook up. Buck feels an instant connection but doesn’t pursue it because he’s only good for one night, no one wants him for keeps. Cue him running into Eddie almost everywhere he goes, like the universe keeps putting Eddie in his path. And Eddie is kind and never makes their interactions feel awkward and the way he smiles at Buck has something warm fluttering to life inside him. Eddie eventually asks him out on a proper date and Buck is so confused because no one wants him for more than a fun time. They don’t want to keep him.

(snippet under the cut)

“Buck!”

Buck turns towards the voice calling his name to find none other than Christopher from the class field trip at the station last week walking towards him, red crutches click clacking against the floor.

“Hey Chris! What brings you here? Another school field trip?”

Chris scrunches his face up, looking at Buck like he’s grown a second head.

“It’s Saturday.”

“Right. I knew that, I was just checking to see if you did.” Buck says as he points his finger at Chris causing the boy to giggle.

Buck scoots over on the bench making room for Chris to sit down beside him.

“Are your mum or dad with you?” Buck asks as he scans the room behind them for a frantic parent.

“My mum’s dead.”

Oh. Well. Buck has no idea what to do with that.

“Uh, I’m sorry buddy, that’s uh- that’s rough.” He looks around the room again. “What about your Da-“

“Christopher!”

Buck’s head whips around to find a man striding towards them. As he draws closer, Buck's eyes widen in recognition and disbelief because shit, Buck knows him - has seen him naked, felt his body pressed against his own as the guy shoved his cock so deep inside Buck he swore he could feel it in his throat. The memory of their encounter is still fresh in Buck’s mind a week later because it was that good.

“Dad!” Chris says happily, smiling bright and big and holy fuck his hot hookup who gave him one of the best orgasms of his fucking life has a kid.

And is standing right in from on him.

Buck scrambles to his feet, his hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck as he smiles nervously at Eddie. “Uh hi.”

Eddie looks shocked to see him but it quickly melts away, his eyes softening. “Buck, hey.” His mouth quirks up in a small smile and Buck remembers exactly why he brought Eddie home last weekend. He’s so fucking pretty

No pressure tagging: @diazsdimples @hippolotamus @spotsandsocks @wikiangela @puppyboybuckley @exhuastedpigeon @wildlife4life @watchyourbuck @elvensorceress @eddiebabygirldiaz @evanbegins @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @athenagranted @rainbow-nerdss @rewritetheending @shortsighted-owl @steadfastsaturnsrings @thewolvesof1998 @try-set-me-on-fire @theotherbuckley @tizniz @devirnis @disasterbuckdiaz @fortheloveofbuddie @giddyupbuck @hoodie-buck @homerforsure @honestlydarkprincess @jeeyuns @jesuisici33 @lover-of-mine @ladydorian05 @loserdiaz @captain-hen @bekkachaos @nmcggg @monsterrae1 @missmagooglie @mellaithwen and as always, anyone else who wants to share something -> consider this your official tag ❤️

[kveom]

booseoksoon in 2023

thank you for saving my kpop booseoksoon <;3 i'd been drifting away from kpop for a bit but then booseoksoon happened and look at me now. changed my whole year literally don't know who i'd be if it wasn't for booseoksoon comeback. thank you for providing amazing music, even better performances and just entertainment all around. kings of fun, kings of energy, kings of adlibs, kings of performance please come back next year 😫 cr: x

[anna-scribbles]

thirteen update 🍂 🎹 🏠 👻

chapter 2: November

chapter summary:

She was in a good mood. If she was ever going to take it well, it would be now.

“Maman, what if I went to school this year?”

excerpt:

“Heh.” Adrien flicked a finger beneath his chin and strutted the length of his bathroom floor, glancing at himself in the mirror. He twirled a rose—a red one, one he’d grabbed from the vase downstairs—between his fingers and then presented it to the mirror with a flourish.

“Haruhi!” he declared, “the spring of my heart surges upon the sight of your fresh smile, my love. My heart beats at the command of your drum! Your face is the fierce longing of my soul, and I present to you now this token of my lavish, undying—”

A sharp knock clicked against the bedroom door and Adrien froze, his hand still passionately hovering over his heart.

“Adrien?” Nathalie’s voice called, and Adrien—true to character, if he did say so himself—startled so hard that he slipped and fell onto his butt on the tile.

“Yeah?” he called, hastily pulling himself up and trying to find a place to set down the rose.

Nathalie peeked her head through the bathroom door and took him in, his rumpled hair and the too-small blue blazer he’d saved in the back of his closet for occasions such as…this.

“You have a guest,” she said flatly, and Adrien could not for the life of him figure out whether she was making fun of him.

She left before he could decide, and then it was only a matter of seconds before his bathroom door was thrown all the way open and a blonde ponytail bobbed into view.

“Adrikins!” Chloé crashed into him, wrapping him up in a hug that nearly knocked him over again. “It’s been way too long. You’ve been neglecting me. Aw, did you get me a rose?” She plucked it from his hands and then scrunched up her nose. “Ew, is this real?”

“As real as the current that springs from the well of my heart,” Adrien invented, and Chloé frowned at him like he’d just spoken Greek. “Nevermind.”

She looked him up and down and scrunched her nose up even more. “What did you do to your hair?”

Adrien frowned at his reflection in the mirror and pushed his hair further over to the side.

“I was trying to make it look cool.” He’d been trying to make it look like Tamaki from Ouran High School Host Club.

“It looks like you just rolled out of bed.”

read on ao3

[sesamenom]

Reverse Gondolin AU Family Portrait - House of the Queen

[journey-to-the-attic]

i meant to post this yesterday and just completely forgot - here's the full version of the cover i made for the wattpad port, by the way!! (i know cross-post is the technically correct term but port is just a fun word to say/type. i don't need to explain myself here)

[theposhperyton]

All evidence suggests yes

[tea-of-destiny]

@101flavoursofweird tagged me to do this, thanks!

Post the last three lines your wrote for your current WIP:

Well, it's four lines, but I didn't feel right cutting away the tag sentence lol.

Far too gracious for his own good, Desmond still mustered a bittersweet smile at Mackintosh’s response. “No, I don’t blame you, my good man. You couldn’t have known before. This setting and time of year only makes me more susceptible to my own feelings about it all, I suppose.”

I'll tag @paopubell @tharkflark1 @alphascorpiixx and anyone else who wants to share!

[noxious-fennec]

Alright. I want you all made perfectly aware that I have completely cut support for Wilbur soot and any associated projects. I find his "apology" to be disingenuous and trashy damage control, and it undermines whatever desire he has to improve, however genuine that is.

I 100% support Shelby and any victim of such disgusting behaviour, i commend them for their courage, and I wish them nothing but prosperity, support, and happiness. I will always value their peace over whatever art he made. I'll find other fucking art.

[livesincerely]

Davey taps his fingers against the side of his glass, rolls his shoulders back, then says, “So, don’t feel obligated, is what I’m trying to say. I only want to do this if we’re both interested, and for the right reasons.”

“I promise ya, the last thing I’m feelin’ is obligated,” Jack drawls. “Jus’ as long as we’re both on the same page.”

But Davey still looks uncertain.

“And you’re okay with the whole…” He makes a vague gesture over himself. “I’m told my aura can be a touch… overwhelming, once it starts to take effect.”

“‘M not too worried,” Jack says with a shrug. “Werewolves are immune to almost everything—lycanthropy doesn’t exactly play well with other types of magic. Mother Moon tends to be pretty possessive of her children, I guess.”

“Sounds handy,” Davey says.

“‘S got its uses,” Jack agrees. “So you don’t gotta worry ‘bout enchantin’ me or nothin’.” He offers up his most charming smile. “At least, not any more than you already have.

A laugh bubbles off of Davey’s lips. His entire demeanor seems to brighten several clicks, like drawing back a curtain to let in the sun.

“That was smooth!” he accuses, sounding utterly delighted about it.

“I try,” Jack says, just as captivated, grinning right back. “Hopefully, I’m doin’ somethin’ right. You strike me as the kinda guy that’s pretty damn hard’ta impress.”

[crossbackpoke-check]

it’s all the rest of what i want with you

connor dewar/brandon duhaime :: 8k

Summary:

“Brandon,” Connor says with a sigh. “There’s no baby in there.”

“Not yet,” Brandon says. Connor feels his stomach twist, almost like what he would imagine a baby kicking to feel like.

in these trying times of dewvorce, may i offer you 8k of pwp inspired by @stillfertile’s wonderful art which i had. several breakdowns about 🫶 anyway please enjoy!!!

[inhidingxoxo3637]

[dead-loch]

[mishapen-dear]

guess who got so brainrotted over jaiden animations that they finished their first animatic

[yangjeongin]

HYUNJIN | 식혀 (CHILL) MV