#nat tag

[claitea]

how familiar...

[murmel-malt]

drew some hawking poses from references this week and decided to turn one into @selfproclaimedunicorn's Ella Royce and the other into @emilykaldwen's Abrogail Strong.

[ronandreams]

(aesthetic) go to pinterest and search: flower, forest, animal, fruit, interior, garden, waterfall, cabin, and architecture.

tagged by @quinnigallagherjones, @amitys, and @diamondaphne, ty!! 🩷

tagging (if u want): @bruceewayne, @eagans, @henrywinteris, @glenpowelljr, @rozanovilyas, @userlaylivia, @eohwyyn, @cavarage, @matbaynton, @edithsawyers, @dyketrinitysantos, @caribaheine, @thegreatimpersonator, @dyeralice.

[nightswatchyaoi]

[ dress ] - for receiver to help sender put on an item of clothing + [ jewelry ] - for receiver to help sender put on a piece of jewelry

Gwayne and Taryne!

Prompt | AO3 Crosspost

Blacked out for 3 days & wrote over 1k for this. Enjoy~🩷✨

The sun had set long enough ago they should have gotten up by now, but the softness his lady treated him with after she had her fill of tormenting him made it hard for Gwayne to actually rise from the bed to get dressed and escort her back to a place neither of them wanted her to be. He groaned softly, burying his face in her breasts as she scratched his scalp. Gwayne wished Taryne had taken off her bodice and that it was the soft, ample flesh concealed beneath the layers of undergarments that he nuzzled instead of white linen embroidered with snakes. "Would that we could stay here." Gwayne mumbled into her chest as he draped an arm across Taryne's soft middle.

"Would that we could…" Taryne mused back. She stopped playing with his hair, her fingers ghosting along the back of his neck and raising gooseflesh on Gwayne's arms. He shivered, the muscles in his back going tight from the tickle of her touch. "But I should go back. He'll ask questions if I stay too long."

Gwayne frowned as he rested his chin on Taryne's breast to look up at her. Ser Swann was an ass. "Must you mention him?"

"If it will get you up." Her hand left him, and Gwayne heard her arm thump softly onto the other side of his bed. He sighed huffily before slowly, reluctantly sitting up in the center of the rumpled bed. Gwayne raked his fingers through his hair, auburn locks no doubt in as much of a state as his bedlinens.

Blue eyes swept over the floor, picking out pieces of discarded clothes as the haze of pleasure that had turned his mind off kept the memories of where everything had fallen just out of his reach. Gwayne stood and grabbed his smallclothes. It was back to business as usual, even if he would prefer to laze in the comfort and accepting security of Lady Taryne's arms for just a bit longer. But he couldn't. Because Ser Swann was a prick who had gotten to her first.

Gwayne scowled, lips pursed into an irritated pout and brows furrowed as he shoved his arms through the sleeves of his undershirt. He wasn't under any illusions he'd have met Taryne without her husband's existence, but that wouldn't stop him from imagining all the ways he would have been better to her. Softer. Kinder. He snatched his socks from the floor and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Is getting dressed so offensive?" Taryne cooed as he yanked on a sock. Her lips brushed his neck, and Gwayne tilted his head back; both an offering and a way to look at her.

"Only in that I'm depriving you of your view." Gwayne grinned as he propped his foot on the bed, lazy and charming as if he hadn't just been fuming about her husband. As if he didn't willingly let her have control over each of their trysts, rolling over on his back like a devoted hound whining for attention. Taryne kissed the corner of his mouth as she took the olive colored garter from his hands. Gwayne tried to snatch it back, but his fingers closed around empty air as she held it at arm's length.

"I need that!" Lady Taryne ignored him as she leaned close, tying the length of linen ribbon around the top of his sock herself. Gwayne swallowed, his throat feeling suddenly dry as he watched her. His cheeks were warm and no doubt red as an apple, which was absurd given she'd just had him face down in the pillows while she drove into him with a fake cock.

She pressed against Gwayne, her body soft and warm, and reached behind him to grab his other sock and garter from where they lay beside him. Taryne patted her lap when she sat up straight again. "Other leg."

"My—my lady, you don't—" Gwayne stopped when she cut her dark eyes towards him. His fingers curled into the wrinkled blanket beneath them as he did what she wanted. They were both silent as she slipped the garment up to just below his knee and tied it into place. He coughed into his fist when he lowered his feet to the floor, pointedly looking away from her. "Thank you, my lady."

"You're welcome." She rose to her feet, the skirt of her shift still hiked up and tied above her wide hips. Taryne lifted her arms above her head and arched her back, stretching as languidly as a cat as she let out a soft groan. Gwayne's gaze drifted to her backside, and he huffed out a sigh when she untied her skirt and it fell down to her calves. She glanced over her shoulder at him, a grin just as feline as her stretch had been now pulling up the corners of her full lips. "You have much more to put on than I do, ser. I would suggest you continue."

Gwayne got up and took a few sauntering steps towards her, closing the distance between them to kiss her shoulder. His lips brushed the fabric of her shift as he murmured, "one day we'll be able to take our time."

"A romantic notion." Taryne shrugged his mouth away and went to where her black gown was draped over the back of the settee on the other side of the room. With his lady gone, Gwayne went to finish getting dressed. He didn't know if she believed him, hells he didn't know if he believed himself, but Taryne at least indulged what she called his "flights of fancy."

Gwayne stood still for a moment, contemplative as his thumbs rubbed absently over the deep green velvet of his jerkin. Even with how her kindness and warmth after they fucked was meant for his benefit, easing him out of the tightly wound knots of thoughtless need she tied him into, it was still stupid of him to prattle on about whatever idealistic thought entered his head. He was a man grown, and his father had told him enough times when he was nothing more than a boy that such romantic idealism was foolish. Gwayne needed practicality, not half-formed dreams tethered to nothing more than desires born of infatuation. Or… whatever it was between them.

"Gwayne?" He startled, spinning around to face Taryne as she came back to him, still tightening the laces on the side of her gown.

"Did you need help?" He hurriedly pulled on his jerkin, leaving it unbuttoned as he went to take the laces from her. Taryne lifted her arm, Myrish lace brushing his face as her voluminous sleeve blocked the other side of the room from his periphery.

"No, not explicitly. I—I just thought…" Taryne's voice trailed off, and her pretty, rosy brown lips were parted when he glanced up from the knot he tied. "You seemed far away." She said when he finished.

"I was just thinking."

"About us being able to take more time with each other one day?" Taryne asked with a smile as she took the bottom clasps of his jerkin and hooked them together, slowly working her way up the row of silver fastenings.

"It was silly to say such a thing." Gwayne replied, looking away from her as heat rose to his cheeks again. He'd grown used to helping her with lacings and clasps she couldn't quite reach, but Taryne taking care of such trivial things for him somehow felt more intimate than when he pleasured her.

She gently held his face in her hands, drawing Gwayne's gaze back to her. "I like when you say such things." Taryne kissed him then. It was short and sweet and made Gwayne feel warm inside.

Her hands were gone from his face almost as soon as they'd come, and her full skirts brushed his wool-clad legs as she went to the small table by his bed. Her rings were an abandoned pile surrounding the jar of oil, thin bands of silver studded with sapphires or shaped like swans wound round her fingers. Only one was different: gold and molded into the shape of a snake eating itself. Gwayne plucked that one from the table and held out his hand, head tilted to the side and eyebrows raised in a silent offer.

Taryne placed her fingers delicately atop his palm, her forefinger raised for him to slip the golden snake onto it. Gwayne lifted her hand when he was done, his lips brushing her ring before he pressed a kiss to her knuckles. "Would that today was the day we could spend more time with each other…" he whispered against her fingers.

"If only."

[dnfity]

can you keep going

i hope the thought of george popped into dreams head for a split second during the ceremony while he sat next to his gf

[yaoilogist]

damn sorry

[twisted-tales-told]

hiiiiii 1,10,20 for the ask game <3333

happy birthday!!! i hope this year is kind to you <33333

NAT ILYYYYY Yes I hope this year is kind & also uno reverses that kindness you you because JEEZ you deserve a break

This ask game

1. book you’ve reread the most times?

Last time I said I'll Give You The Sun by Jandy Nelson but now I will also say I re-read the captive Prince Trilogy literally the second I finished it for the first time and I have no regrets

10. do you have a guilty fav?

I have a confession. I read verity by Colleen Hoover and THO THE ENDING WAS REALLY STUPID the first scene of her watching someone get hit by a car bc they were on their phone and stepped out onto the street and getting covered with the blood was crazy. and then there was a hot guy cleaning her up in the bathroom of a cafe was also crazy and sticks with me for some reason.

20. what are things you look for in a book?

I need to root for someone. Like I gotta be a characters cheerleader. & I don't mean that in the sense of there has to be a "justifyable" cause. Maybe the main characters goal is to eat a baby. But if they can make me see WHY they want to eat the baby and get me excited to see how they're gonna accomplish this Eat The Baby goal, I am SOOO sold.

I'm also very hard to please with lit fic. I need there to be an element of glamour to my litfic, or at least feel as though I am consuming some weird piece of live art that eats me as much as I'm eating it, you know? The Goldfinch, I'll give you the sun, Beartown, The Book Of Dreams, Martyr, The Vegetarian, sex & rage, Play It As It Lays (yes im on the Hudson Williams book journey) all have this ability of pulling you into a very specific aesthetic and I think that's what makes them shine to me.

Like I understand why these books HAD to exist. I feel they would have crushed the author with the weight of their words if they hadn't been forged in the blood sweat and tears it took to make them.

[noeverse]

hello I'm having a moment of thinking about Myranda and Rodrik <3

AAAAAHHH my feral babies 🥹🥹🥹

Tell me all your thonks, share with da class 🫡🫵🏼