#there ia always another

[mate-de-ensalada]

I was reading There is always another by Mckenzie Lee because of a meme I had seen and WHAT THE FUCK HAD I FORGOTTEN HOW SAAD THIS THING WAS. I think I read it a while ago but Jesus how hard it hit me this time, in addition to breaking your soul, he will also grab you with a knife and cut your hand and then throw lemon and salt at you, it's also super funny! so I made a compilation with the best parts of the best characterization of Obi Wan that came out of Lucas Films. and with shit quality

Let's start with obi-dad kenobi being a single dad to an unwanted kid !

Yes obi wan it would have been

Now with " Your so much like your father and I loved him so damb much and I love you so damb much kenobi "

The next one....the way I was almost crying at 8 in the morning should be illegal , because ofc he's the dumb beautiful son of your dumb beautiful friend ಥ_ಥ

Next ia "Anakin being an difficult traumatize child "

The next page was just wild

There is a lot more but I don't want to use a computer ✧(｡•̀ᴗ-)✧ . There is also a fuck amout of comedy in this, including a paragraph were obi wan wishes thta oamde would have been the chosen one and Anakin the prince , there is also an arto saying kriff ( the fuck in star wars )

[softshuji]

It feels so unfair. I have a co worker called Hayley, she's super sweet she's always reaching out to me asking if I'm ok (she's new she's only been here about 2 months) and when I mentioned this offhandedly to my boss he tells me to "ignore her" and "stop answering her messages" and that just feels so? Mean to me? Like what the actual fuck we're not allowed to speak to people we work with but then you bitch at us for not being communicative enough. Fuck this guy honestly.

[tophsazulas]

I’m really hoping Jay doesn’t get a new love interest introduced in S2.

[sleepysick]

,,.......,,,,,

[rise-my-angel]

hi mimi~ how are you? how is everything?? i hope life has been treating you kind and only good things have been blooming for you 🥹💜

I appreciate the kindness, its a little difficult it's my first holiday without my kitty in almost a decade. The only time I've spent a holiday without her since I was 8 was the one year I didn't come home from college on winter break since obviously pets weren't allowed in the dorms.

So its hard beacuse I love holiday season, I mean Ive jump started on gift wrapping and spent almost 2 hours christmas decorating my moms entire house last weekend, but then I come home and it's silent and I don't have her to share my enjoyment with. Even my yearly season long mission of getting her to keep a bow on her head long enough so I can take a pretty picture of her is something I already miss terribly.

But I'm trying to distract myself with writing. I have another Javier part of my little mininseries ready to be posted, and I'm a couple thousand words into my next Joel miniseries addition. Turns out I'm addicted to writing angst even though I very rarely can stomach reading long angst fics. I also might do another Marcus Moreno fic thats a Christmas themed one since he's a much more lighthearted character to write. I've officially written too many fics and I literally have a masterlist in my drafts just so I can keep track of them all.

I'm enjoying writing again a lot, posting on here is hard though I don't get a lot of feedback on my stuff and some I get absolutely none at all so it's really hard to gauge how much people actually are enjoying it. So its a battle to find any motivation to post my work thats the issue.

[purinfelix]

plsplsplspslpsl write calling bf barca boys (pedri, fermin, joao) + jude bellingham "bro"

"bro"

featuring: pedri, fermin, joao, gavi (i had to include my bby sorryyy!) and jude warnings: teensy bit cringe at times, be warned ...

a/n: once again apologising for being ia, but an eternal thank you to anon and every one else who's still interacting with me and sending me requests!! trying my best to get through them, thank you all for your patience <333

You don’t remember how it had happened honestly, the two of you had just been hanging out in his bedroom, a situation you had come to find comfort in since its frequency had become almost like a routine to the two of you. The air outside was cool, giving the two of you an excuse to curl up together under the blanket and binge watch episodes of your favourite show in a comfortable silence. That was, of course, until you heard the chime of your phone - causing you to perk up out of your boyfriends arms.

“Bro, could you get that for me?”

Pedri

Honestly he doesn’t think much of it at first, since your guys’ relationship has always been pretty casual in the way that you both trust each other enough not to overreact. He reckons that it probably slipped out by accident, and given that it’s what most of his teammates and friends call him, he doesn’t react that much. Sure, he noticed it, and filed it away to the back of his mind as a sign that you might be mad with him but he’s a pretty calm boyfriend only offers an amused eyebrow raise.

It’s only when he leans over and grabs your phone do you realise what you’ve said - but only decide to double down on it to get a reaction out of him.

“Thanks bro,” you say as nonchalantly as you can manage when he hands you your phone, immediately going to respond to whatever message had caused the notification sound. And at first it seems like he’s not going to indulge your obvious bait for a reaction - of course until you hear the rustle of bed sheets and his strong arm snake around your waist.

He lets out a soft mumble that roughly translates to - “What is it baby?” - as he buries his face into the crook of your neck in a loving, yet almost pleading manner. It doesn’t take long for you to give in to his charms.

“I’m only messing with you,” you giggle, patting the top of his head reassuringly.

Fermin

If there’s one thing you know about Fermin, it’s that he’s observant. However, another thing about him is that he’s a sly little shit. So whenever he feels he can sense you trying to prod at his temper it only ends in him serving you back your own attitude.

“Of course, bro,” he says, and even though you’re not looking at him as he turns to grab your phone, you can tell he has a wide smirk spread across his face.

You only give him a knowing look, and try your best to maintain your composure while stifling your laughter - but the minute he drops your phone into your hands you know he’s not going to back down on this.

“Thanks, dude,” you quip.

“Any time, my man.”

Silence, and you’re trying to figure out your next comeback while ignoring the weird way him calling you ‘my man’ made you feel. You feel oddly stupid for starting a game you know you couldn’t keep up with, but luckily your boyfriend has already caught wind of this by the look of amusement on his face.

“Something wrong, mate?” he chuckles as he leans over to peck your lips that you hadn’t realised had formed a pout. All you can do is sigh in faux-exhaustion before erupting into a fit of laughter.

Joao

It’s only once he’s reached over to grab your phone, that he clocks the odd new nickname. Immediately, but silently, his mind starts racing through the possible reasons as to why you’ve bestowed it upon him - did he do something wrong? He did only kiss you twice before leaving for training that morning, and he did accidentally move away from you when the two of you were cuddling earlier. He’s worried, but he’s also up to play your game if need be.

His grip on your phone tightens, and you hear his voice low, daring - “What was that darling?”

You truly meant it as an accident this time, and he manages to snap you out of it with his words. “Oh, sorry, babe,” you correct yourself and he nods as if to silently say that’s better.

You get your phone from him, and a quick kiss on the cheek before he settles back to wrapping his arms around you, tucking his head into the crook of your neck so he can look at your phone next to you.

Gavi

Whilst something like being called “bro” might not matter to most other guys, it definitely did to your boyfriend. His reaction to your words was immediate, his head whipping up from where he had been laying beside you, eyes round and pleading.

“What?” his voice was quiet, almost unbelieving and you had to try your best not to laugh at how dramatic your boyfriend’s reaction was. Still, a small chuckle escapes your lips, only making you feel worse as a small pout forms from his lips.

“Sorry, it slipped out,” you reassure him, reaching up a hand to stroke his cheek lovingly. He furrows his brows as if to pose the question - are you sure? But you only take this as a sign to mess with him, just a little more.

“What, you don’t like me calling you bro?” You’ve completely forgotten about your phone at this point.

“No, definitely not.” He’s oddly serious when he says this, but this only adds to how amused you are by this situation.

“Alright baby,” you hum out your apology, trying your best to further express this through your thumb on his cheek - and luckily he seems to get the message. Before you know it, he’s melted back into your arms, your fingers curling lazily around his hair.

Jude

“What?”

Jude is quick with it, turning to you immediately as soon as the word leaves your mouth with an expression that makes you realise your mistake all too quickly.

“Bro?” he asks again, almost daring you to repeat it, but the shocked laugh he lets out reassures you he isn’t taking it to seriously - only getting an unfair amount of amusement from your mistake.

“Whatever, babe, there,” you say in mock-annoyance, not wanting to let him get the better of you.

“Nuh-uh, you called me bro,” he pushed, leaning in close to you, his voice teasing.

“It was an accident, okay?”

“Sure,” he hums, finally grabbing your phone and handing it to you, all the while having a stupid smirk on his face, “I’ll just have to start calling you mate or something, yeah?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you mutter through pouted lips and he finally gives up the act, settling back by your side and pecking your cheek as an apology.

[ja3hwa]

♡ 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟕: 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠/𝐝𝐫𝐲 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐒.𝐌𝐆 ♡

Dedicated To You

【sʏɴᴏᴘsɪs】 : Your sweet producer boyfriend wanted to share something with you. But your neediness had other plans.

『ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ』 :  915

-> ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: Producer Au. Suggestive. Fluff.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Producer!Mingi x F.Reader 

[ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs] : Teasing. Clit stimulation. Clit play. Thigh riding. Humping. Some use of fingers. Pet names.

Thank you, @ia-ateezscupid, for requesting Mingi for this story and the plot concept ♡♡♡.

Masterlist | Navigation | Kinktober List

There were two simple rules you had to obey whenever you were in the studio with Mingi. One, always sit on his lap or couch, wherever he could have contact with your body. And two stay quiet unless told otherwise. You see, your lover boy was a very busy man, and normally, if you came over to his studio, it was to drop off food or simply be in his company. But this time, you had headed over to his dark studio for another reason. A reason you would normally wait until he was home to ask for. But tonight was different. Tonight, you needed him so badly that you felt like you were going to combust.

So here you sit, perched so quietly on his lap while his fingers click on a keyboard behind you on the deck, and his other hand rakes the mouse at a vigorous pace. You tried to be still and not disturb him, but you couldn’t help but just re-adjust yourself every so often. Wiggling your hips side to side, raking your hands along his shoulders. You were losing willpower fast, and Mingi seemed to take notice.

But he wanted to tease you a bit, or in this case, torture you a little. He loved seeing you squirm and become all shy when asking for what you wanted. And In this situation, he, too, was craving for the perfect attention. He quickly went back to touching up the song he made, ironically just for you. A bedroom song if you will. He had been wanting to release a new album of ‘sensual’ songs and melodies, and he had some of his favourite artists such as Park Seonghwa and Choi San sing the tracks. He was just about finished with them too and was so excited to show you, since, of course, you were his muse behind them.

But when you stomped into the room in your cute little outfit, huffing for cuddles―even though he knew you wanted more than a simple hug―. He thought of a new idea, one that would get you begging for him. So as he finished up the tracks, after what felt like an eternity. He could finally give his attention to you. “I wanna show you something.” His deep voice suddenly caught your attention, leaning up to see what he wanted.

He pressed some buttons before unplugging his headset so the music could play through the surround sound system in the room. His smirk never fell from his face as he adjusted himself on the chair so you would only sit on one of his thighs. you didn’t notice the sudden position, thinking it was nothing more than him trying to be comfortable. But when the song started to pool out of the stereos, you could hear the filth he created.

The song goes into detail about treating a woman named “Angel” as a goddess. Pampering her with love and devotion and not to mention how good he would fuck her over and over again. It was then when it hit you that the song was dedicated to you. Your nickname he gave you all the time was angel and all the details perfectly describe you to a tea. This man really made a sex song for you.

His hands dance around your hips as you close your eyes to bask in the music around you. He took this moment to lift up your skirt seeing your pink panties wet against his dark jeans. You didn’t even notice him pull your skirt up until his thumb made contact with your clit. “Like the song huh?”

Your eyes snap open, locking with his in a second. Your brows scrunched, gulping slightly at the sensation. His free hand gripped your hips tightly, pulling you back, then forth, in a way that sends pleasure through your system. “Show me how much you liked that song.”

You start grinding your hips without the need of Mingi, bracing yourself on his shoulders. Your little pants started to fill the room alongside the low-based song. You could feel your pussy clench around nothing as your humps got quicker. His thumb didn’t move off it’s spot, letting you use not only his thick thigh but his large thumb for stimulation. Eyes rolling back you found the perfect pace, losing yourself trying to reach your climax. Mingi could tell you were going to come any second so without another moment his lips latched onto your neck, sucking a hard purple mark along your jugular that you are going to have to explain to your friends tomorrow.

“Min..I, Fuck…” Your brain was in scrambles, and you could get even a single sentence out before moaning or whimpering soon after. You were so close just a little further, your grinding so harsher and harsh, needing the blissful release, and when Mingi clenched his thighs, you lost it. Coming so hard, you saw stars. He finally moved his hand away from your clit, letting you exhale a shaky breath. He wrapped his arms around your waist pulling you close into a tight embrace. The song finished shortly afterwards, now bringing silence into the room, with slightly panting and heavy heartbeats.

“So I’m assuming you liked the song.” He asked, making you giggle sightly before leaning up to kiss his cheek with a goof smile painting both your and his features.

“Yes, I love it…”

- ♥︎

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

When The World Is Crashing Down [Chapter 5: Turn Off The Lights And Turn Off The Shyness]

Series summary: Your family is House Celtigar, one of Rhaenyra’s wealthiest allies. In the aftermath of Rook’s Rest, Aemond unknowingly conscripts you to save his brother’s life. Now you are in the liar of the enemy, but your loyalties are quickly shifting…

Chapter warnings: Language, warfare, Otto being the worst (per usual), violence, serious injury, cryptic Helaena prophecies, alcoholism/addiction, references to sexual content including noncon (18+), dragons, demented flirting, a late-night surprise, Larys Strong returns. 😞

Series title is a lyric from: “7 Minutes In Heaven” by Fall Out Boy.

Chapter title is a lyric from: “Of All The Gin Joints In All The World” by Fall Out Boy.

Word count: 6.3k.

Link to chapter list: HERE.

Taglist (more in comments): @tinykryptonitewerewolf @lauraneedstochill @not-a-glad-gladiator @daenysx @babyblue711 @arcielee @at-a-rax-ia @bhanclegane @jvpit3rs @padfooteyes @marvelescvpe @travelingmypassion @darkenchantress @yeahright0h @poohxlove @trifoliumviridi @bloodyflowerrr @fan-goddess @devynsficrecs @flowerpotmage @thelittleswanao3 @seabasscevans @hiraethrhapsody @libroparaiso @echos-muses @st-eve-barnes @chattylurker @lm-txles @vagharnaur @moonlightfoxx @storiumemporium @insabecs @heliosscribbles @beautifulsweetschaos @namelesslosers @partnerincrime0 @burningcoffeetimetravel-fics @marbles-posts @imsolence @maidmerrymint @backyardfolklore @nimaharchive @anxiousdaemon @under-the-aspen-tree @amiraisgoingthruit @dd122004dd @randomdragonfires @jetblack4real @joliettes

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged! 🥰💜

The sun would burn him, but moonlight is kind. You’re on the balcony of Aegon’s bedchamber, two chairs, two cups of wine, another full pitcher on the table between you, a glass bottle of warm rose oil like amber, like gold, freckled with curled ruby petals. You’re dressed in your usual attire, simple designs and neutral colors, greys and creams and dusky pinks; tonight your gown is a flat, inky blue that matches the night sky. Aegon is wearing his unpretentious cotton trousers—stained with splotches of pomegranate juice, his recompense before you allowed him the wine—and a tiny braid in his shaggy, silver hair.

“I look like your house’s sigil,” Aegon says as he massages rose oil onto his forearms, his palms moving in large sloppy circles over a patchwork of scar tissue; you would do a better job, but he says he wants to learn how to care for his wounds on his own. His dragon ring—gold wings, jade eyes—gleams in the cool, ghostly moonshine. His words are teasing, but his tone is dark, troubled, weary. “Some red, some white. All ugly.”

You smile. You aren’t agreeing, just playing along. “Our motto is better than our flag.”

“I might have been inebriated during that lesson.”

“Perpetual Resurrection.”

Aegon looks at you, confounded. “Quite the mouthful.”

“Crabs molt throughout their lifetime. They crack their own skins open and climb out. If they get stuck, they die. If they get attacked before their new shell hardens, they die. But if they live…they’re a brand new version of themselves. Larger, wiser, more powerful.”

“Spiders,” Aegon says. “You’re trying to placate me with some rousing metaphor about what are essentially aquatic spiders.”

“They’re tasty too,” you say, grinning. “Especially when their shells are still soft. The cooks would serve them fried and us kids would sit around the table ripping the legs free and throwing them at each other.”

“What, you can eat the crab whole?!”

“Yes. Once the faces are cut off and the organs scooped out.”

He pretends to be repulsed by you. “Harrowing. Revolting. This is why Targaryens have always refused to breed with your kind.”

It’s funny, but it isn’t, because it’s a little too close to what you’re both thinking. Under the moonlight, you watch Aegon with the words caged behind your teeth: What do you want most? Who are you in your bones? Where would we be if the world wasn’t crashing down around us?

He slathers rose oil on his scarred right cheek—carelessly, distractedly—and accidentally pokes himself in the eye. “Ow.”

You ask: “Why do you want to do that yourself now?”

“To prove I can. To feel ever so slightly less like an invalid.” He takes a swig of his wine and gazes out over the nightscape ocean, stars in the sky, stars reflected on waves. “I am a study in irony. I spent my whole life waiting for it to be over. I poisoned myself, wasted years, resisted any semblance of usefulness. And now I finally have things I want to accomplish, I finally have reasons to live…and I’m trapped in the flesh of some pathetic, deformed, calamitously weak stranger.” He shakes his head, despondent, still not looking at you. “I can have a body that works. I can have a soul. But I can’t have both at the same time. It’s so fucking unfair.”

“I like you exactly as you are. Body and soul.”

“Everything I own, everything I’m given…” He stares down at his palms, open and empty. “It is destroyed, gets killed, goes mad. I ruin causes. I ruin people. I couldn’t do that to you.”

“I think I’m going to be ruined either way. I’d rather you be the one responsible.”

“Angel,” he says, low and serious. And now his gaze comes back to meet yours. “Who are you supposed to marry?”

You don’t want to tell him. You don’t want it to be true. Your voice is a whisper, almost lost in the night wind. “Cregan Stark.”

His eyes shoot wide, not just startled but terrified. “Stark?!”

You nod miserably. “My father took me and my sisters to Winterfell as part of a trade mission. Cregan decided he wanted me. I never encouraged it, I never desired it, I swear I didn’t—”

“No, I believe you,” Aegon says. He swallows a gulp of wine noisily, his hand shaking. “You were right. I can’t touch him. I can’t stop it. Not unless I win.”

“You don’t want the Iron Throne,” you tell Aegon, already knowing it’s true.

He snorts, a harsh derisive sound. “Who would?”

“Lots of people, I think. But not you or Rhaenyra.”

This intrigues him. “She doesn’t want it either?”

“Not from what I’ve seen and heard. Or, at least, she didn’t until Luke was killed. It changed her. I’m still not convinced she wants to be the queen, but she wants vengeance. And absolute power is a sure path to it.” And so the suffering continues, it goes around and around like a wheel, it is a debt that is never satisfied but only spread like plague.

“I don’t understand why Aemond did that,” Aegon says. His words are hushed, like he’s never spoken them to anyone but you and never will. “When he returned from Storm’s End, I held a feast for him. I had to, someone had to, someone had to pretend it was a victory instead of a murder. But it didn’t make any sense. Arrax was an inconvenience, not a threat. Luke was far more valuable as a hostage than a corpse. Aemond has always been the disciplined brother, the strategic one. I won’t claim to be clever. But I can’t find any strategy in what happened there.”

“Aemond has a temper. He is haunted, I believe. He is not above reckless fury.”

“No, evidently not.” Aegon sighs and rakes his fingers through his hair; again, his dragon ring glints under the moonlight, silver reflected off gold. “I’ll try to win,” he says. “For my family. For you.” Then he smirks, a grim attempt at humor. “Though I pity Cregan Stark for the paradise I will deprive him of.”

You do not return Aegon’s smile. “Don’t have too much pity for him. I have no expertise and I’m scared to death of it. I’d probably end up hiding under his bed, gripping the legs for dear life. He’d have to drag me out and tie me down.”

Aegon is alarmed; his storm-blue eyes are now focused, seeking. He is aware that he has wandered into a quagmire. He treads carefully. “When you say no expertise, you mean…none at all?”

“None.”

“But what about all of those anatomically-correct cock illustrations in your medical books?”

Another joke you can’t bring yourself to laugh at. You drink your wine to stop your lips from quivering, smooth the silk of your gown with a trembling hand. You see it no matter where you look: the pool of red on Theodora’s bedsheets, the dawning and inescapable realization on her face. This is her life now. This will always be her life.

Aegon says gently: “You have no expectation of pleasure.”

“It seems…inherently violent. For the woman. Even if it isn’t meant to be. Being overpowered, being invaded. The man decides when and how it happens. The woman endures.”

Aegon stares at you—biting his full lower lip, deeply somber—but doesn’t speak. He gives you the impression of someone with so many thoughts swimming around in his skull he is struggling to choose just one.

You smile dimly. “I’m sorry. I’ve made you sad.”

“I’m, um…” Aegon pauses to collect himself; he drains his wine cup and sets it back on the table. He is uncharacteristically cautious, like he thinks one unwise word will break the spell of whatever exists between you, this temptation, this need. “I’m saddened by the fact that you think of it that way. Because it doesn’t have to be…distasteful. Frightening. Coerced. It shouldn’t be, in fact.”

“I suppose I’ll find out if the Blacks win this war and Cregan Stark comes to claim me.”

Again, Aegon is exceptionally circumspect. “You’ve never wanted any man?”

“No. Never. Not in that way. Until…” You look at him, willing him to understand. I want you, but I’m so goddamn afraid to. I’m afraid of this world, I’m afraid there’s no hope left in it.

Slowly, Aegon smiles, soft and warm. And without any grasping, animalistic greed, he reaches over to rest a palm on your thigh, night-dark silk draped over skin that doesn’t flinch away from him, doesn’t even have to fight the instinct to. You place a hand on his. Your fingertips trace the gold wings of the green-eyed dragon ring he never takes off. And it is sealed like a covenant under the stars, this allegiance that neither of you could begin to explain to anyone else.

Footsteps are coming through Aegon’s bedchamber, heavy and purposeful. Otto Hightower appears in the balcony doorway. He fills the space like storm clouds flood a clear sky, like blood saturates linen. “You’re getting fat,” he tells Aegon gruffly.

“You’re getting ever more wrinkly and close to the afterlife.”

Otto glances to where Aegon’s hand still rests on your thigh and snaps: “If you’re well enough for that, perhaps you would deign to join us in the council chamber. You could shock everyone by actually acting like a king.”

Then he’s gone, taking those last echoes of the moment with him.

~~~~~~~~~~

“They know she’s here,” Larys Strong says. His audience is gathered around the table: Otto, Criston, Daeron, Grand Maester Orwyle, Tyland Lannister, Jasper Wylde, the knights of the Kingsguard, Aegon slumped way down in his seat and you beside him feeling his forehead worriedly for fever. Because Aegon and Daeron are in attendance, the council chamber is one chair short. Aemond has elected to be the person to stand; he lurks, severe and silent, in a corner of the room half-lit by torchlight. Daeron is dressed in a vibrant teal, Aegon in black; Aemond wears green, dark and brooding like envy.

Criston Cole asks: “How is that possible?”

Otto sighs irritably, rubbing his forehead. “We have spies. I’m sure Rhaenyra does as well.”

“Someone apparently glimpsed the prince regent…um…” Larys searches for the diplomatic word. “Escorting her through the streets of King’s Landing.”

“Dragging is what he did,” Aegon says, glaring at Aemond. “Abducting. Attacking. Imprisoning.” Aemond, arms crossed over his chest, studies his boots and pretends not to have heard him.

Larys continues: “The Blacks don’t believe that she is here of her own volition.”

Otto’s eyes narrow. “What, they think we’ve detained her as some sort of…healer? Hostage?”

“No, my lord,” Larys says, hesitantly, awkwardly. “They don’t imagine the king’s motivations to be that honorable.”

Otto is losing his patience. “Meaning?”

Larys toys with his restless, rodentlike hands. “They think she is being…violated.”

A stilted, scandalized hush falls over the table. “Good,” Aegon says, invoking gasps and gapes. “If Green supporters believe her to be my captive, they won’t harm her. And if the Blacks think she is being held here against her will, she would be safe with them as well. No matter who wins, she is not in danger.”

“That is hardly beneficial for your own reputation, Your Grace,” Tyland Lannister says.

Aegon grins beneath cold eyes; he shows his teeth like a wolf, like a dragon. “Was my reputation so pristine to begin with, Lord Lannister?”

“No, perhaps not,” Tyland mumbles. Still, he should not have said it aloud. Otto huffs another sigh and rolls his eyes.

“So you intend to keep a Celtigar daughter in your service?” Otto says to Aegon.

“I have no doubts concerning her loyalty.”

Larys adds: “My lord, I must say, I cannot see a tactical advantage in her saving the king’s life if she retains any loyalty to Rhaenyra’s cause.”

“Then why save him at all? Why bother? He was lying there half-dead, soon to be properly dead, and she brought him back practically singlehandedly. Why?”

“Mercy,” Aemond says quietly from the corner, and everyone turns to look at him. “Many people have none of it. She perhaps has too much. And now they have grown…” He gestures vaguely, perhaps bashfully. “Attached to each other.”

Jasper Wylde is dismayed. “But the king has a wife.”

Daeron snickers. “Yes, and that has always proved to be such a deterrent in the past.”

“Daeron,” Aegon cautions mildly.

The youngest Targaryen brother obediently sobers and shows the palms of his hands in contrition. “My apologies.” He hides his face with a slurp of his wine cup.

“And what about Cregan Stark?!” Otto exclaims. “You’d encourage his outrage, his Northerner savagery? Seven hells, he thinks you’re spending your days raping his betrothed, do you imagine that will not invoke fiercer wrath, put all of us at greater risk?!”

“Lord Stark was never a reachable ally to our cause, in my estimation,” Larys says calmly.

“That’s not the point, Larys! The point is—!”

“I can offer you something in return for the heightened danger you have assumed,” you interrupt, and these men stare at you as if suddenly remembering that you are here in the room with them, not a phantom or a myth or a cautionary tale but someone real. Aegon glances over, one eyebrow raised on his drawn, perspiring face. He doesn’t know what you’re going to say either.

Otto peers menacingly across the table. “What could you possibly have to barter with? The king is well enough now. He will live with or without you.”

“I have information. I know the workings of Rhaenyra’s council in the leadup to Rook’s Rest.”

“You attended her council meetings?”

“No, but I spent evenings with my father and brothers as they discussed them.”

Otto sits back in his chair, pondering you. After a moment, he nods. “Go on then.”

“I want one concession before I reveal what I know.”

“Besides being permitted indefinite room and board in the Red Keep, which you are in no way entitled to?”

“Not negotiable,” Aegon says.

Otto chuckles, humorless, incredulous, shaking his head. “Fucking insane. Alright. What is it you want, girl?”

“If any member of House Celtigar is taken captive, I want them to be given the opportunity to swear fealty to King Aegon and receive a full pardon for their sins. If they refuse, they are to go to the Night’s Watch, not the scaffold.”

“That’s your price? That’s it?”

“Yes.”

Otto is amused. “Nothing for you? No gold, no land?”

“No.” The prospect hadn’t even occurred to you.

“Not very self-serving. So unlike a Celtigar.” Otto grins, not kindly at all. “Your terms are accepted.”

You begin. “The Greens possess great wealth, now split for safekeeping between Oldtown, Casterly Rock, and the Iron Bank of Braavos. But Rhaenyra’s funds are far more finite. My father has enriched her coffers in part with taxes placed upon houses of the Crownlands. You are always seeking new allies, people you can turn from her side to yours, Corlys Velaryon, the Dragonseeds. Thus far, you have been unsuccessful.” Otto frowns, but he is listening. “I know there are families who have compelling grievances concerning my father’s taxes. Families who have become disenchanted with Rhaenyra’s leadership…or lack thereof, they might say. Rosby, Stokeworth, Cave, Langward, Bourney, Boggs, Hardy, Chyttering. Probably others as well now. They occupy a tactically significant position, being so near to Dragonstone and Driftmark. And I believe if you wrote to them, they would answer.”

“I’ll send ravens,” Otto says. He marvels at you, like a puzzlingly strange creature, a luminescent fang-toothed fish from the depths of the ocean, a direwolf from beyond the Wall. “You don’t want your side to win this war?”

“I want the killing to stop. For both sides.”

“Well, you won’t get that. The bitch will never surrender. That hope died with little Luke Strong.” Otto glowers bitterly at where Aemond stands in the shadowy corner, but he addresses you. “That is your impression as well? She was entertaining the possibility of a truce before he died at Storm’s End?”

You steal a glimpse of Aemond, and you are struck by an unexpected stab of sympathy for him, compassion that feels like a betrayal of your knowledge of the torture he had planned for you. But what is there to say but the truth? “Rhaenyra was considering it very seriously. She and Daemon quarreled over the subject.”

“Of course they did.” Otto looks at Criston, then back to Aemond. “When are you leaving?”

“Soon,” Criston answers for the prince regent. “Very soon.”

“Not soon enough,” Otto spits like venom, and everyone else averts their eyes.

“My lord,” Larys intercedes. “There is one more matter to discuss, and I believe it will be of great interest to His Grace the king.”

Aegon is struggling to concentrate. He blinks groggily at the Master of Whisperers, his brow creased with pain. You smooth his damp, white-blond hair back from his face, threading his braid through your fingertips; you refill his wine cup and give it to him. When Aegon lifts it to his lips, his hands shake so badly he spills scarlet beads like blood down his chin. He wipes them away with his sleeve. Grand Maester Orwyle offers him a small glass bottle of milk of the poppy, but Aegon refuses it.

“Is he alright?” Daeron mutters to you.

“He’s fine. He’s tired, that’s all.”

“Waste no time, Lord Larys,” Aegon says. “I fear Grandsire’s ire has exhausted me. He’s more ferocious than a dragon. We should find a saddle that fits, perhaps Criston could ride him to the Riverlands.”

“Keep guzzling wine, I’m sure that will improve your condition,” Otto bites back.

Larys continues: “It concerns Rook’s Rest.”

Now he has everyone’s attention. “What about Rook’s Rest?” Aegon says. Instinctively, he’s begun twisting the golden dragon ring on his left hand.

“I received word one hour ago that the Blacks have retaken it.”

“What?!” Otto shouts; the rest of the table is in uproar. Criston stands and goes to conspire with Aemond in the corner of the council chamber, urgent indecipherable whispers.

“Sunfyre,” Aegon says frantically. “I have to go to him, I have to get him out—”

“He is already gone, Your Grace,” Larys replies.

“Gone…?”

“Lord Walys Mooton went down to the beach to slay the dragon once his men had taken the castle. He was burned alive.”

“Perfect,” Daeron says, beaming radiantly.

“Lord Mooton’s men fled for their lives, and when they returned, Sunfyre had disappeared. He could not be found anywhere in the vicinity of Rook’s Rest. Moreover, his footprints in the sand stopped abruptly. Which means he must have departed—”

“Into the water…?” Tyland Lannister says, perplexed.

“No,” Larys corrects him. “Into the sky.”

“Sunfyre is flying again?” Aegon asks, his face childlike, astonished.

“That’s impossible,” Criston says. “His wing was broken, I saw it.”

Larys drums his fingers on the tabletop. “I cannot conceive of any other explanation.”

“Then he’ll find me.” Aegon smiles. Sweat snakes down his temples; his face is white, bloodless, barren like the moon. “When Sunfyre is ready, he’ll find me and we’ll be together again.”

“Oh, thank the gods,” Otto exhales. “The Old, the New, that ghastly Drowned one…” He waves a hand at you. “And do you have any to add, Lady Celtigar? Some crab deity your traitorous people worship?”

“I regret to disappoint you, my lord. To my knowledge we have none.”

“Three useable dragons,” Otto says, mostly to himself. “Three is good. With three, we have a chance. And if I can recruit Vermithor or Silverwing…”

“I should go with you when you and Criston march north,” Daeron tells Aemond.

“No,” Aemond returns immediately.

“If you’re going after Daemon, you could use me,” Daeron insists. “Tessarion and I can help.”

“You are needed in the Reach with Lord Ormund Hightower.”

“You just want him all to yourself,” Daeron realizes, exasperated. “You want to be able to say that you were the person to neutralize the Blacks’ greatest asset, that you won the war—!”

Criston says: “He’s not going on some suicide mission chasing Daemon and Caraxes all over the Riverlands. He’s staying with me and the army. He’s using Vhagar logically, responsibly. Right, Aemond?”

“Of course,” Aemond answers, entirely toneless.

Otto whirls to Aegon. “And when will you be able to fight again? Soon, I hope. Surely the culmination of your existence is not one single instance of utility before lapsing back into being some drunken, idiot degenerate.”

In reply, Aegon moans and crumples to the floor. Grand Maester Orwyle and the men of the Kingsguard rush to him, but Criston gets there first; when you cannot rouse the king, Criston throws him over one shoulder—increasingly difficult with each pound Aegon gains, softness and health that you consider a great victory—and ferries him back to bed. As you follow after them, you hesitate in the doorway of the council chamber. Now that Criston is gone, Otto has crossed the room and pinned Aemond to the wall. His large hands, heavy with rings, are pressed to Aemond’s chest; his face is snarling, wicked, callous.

“You have to fix this. You have to end it.”

“I know,” Aemond replies softly.

“Everything that’s happened is your fault.”

“I know,” Aemond says again, then rips free from Otto’s grasp and flees the room.

~~~~~~~~~~

Two days later, Criston leads his army out of the city. They will meet reinforcements on the road between the capital and the Riverlands. There is infantry on foot and cavalry on horses; above them in a blue sky cluttered with vast, cottony clouds are Aemond and Vhagar. As they head north, Daeron and Tessarion fly south towards the Reach to rejoin Ormund Hightower and his men. In Winterfell, Cregan Stark is receiving word of where (and with whom) his betrothed currently resides. At Harrenhal, Daemon and Nettles are kindling rumors like dry wood in a fire. On Dragonstone, Rhaenyra is nursing her rage and paranoia like a hungry child, like a wounded man who has milk of the poppy poured down his throat. And you remain static here in King’s Landing, anchored, steadfast, something immoveable like the ocean or the shore it meets.

You can see Aegon’s bedchamber windows from the beach. You keep glancing up at them, though you know he won’t be there; the sunlight is too harsh today, the potential damage to his skin too great. In a month, he may be able to venture outside as he used to. In two or three, he might be able to fight again. He might be able to kill more than just one errant Norcross boy who dared to touch you.

“Helaena wouldn’t come down to join us?” you ask Autumn. You’re walking with her in the surf, the hems of your held aloft so the froth of the waves can wash over your ankles. Perhaps ten yards away and out of earshot, Alicent is kneeling in the sand and playing with Jaehaera and Maelor. They are her great comfort now; they are not the only purpose she has left, but they are the kindest. Their tiny hands are preoccupied with building a sandcastle and adorning it with seashells, pebbles, shards of driftwood, strings of seaweed like green ribbons. You’ve started to notice how much Jaehaera resembles Aegon, his murky blue eyes and his high cheekbones and his gentleness that no one else seems to recognize. You’ve started to see him everywhere you look.

Autumn shrugs, her face apologetic. Her hair is more than just copper in the afternoon daylight; it is fire, it is blood. “I really tried. You know how she is.”

“I’ll visit her afterwards.”

“She unnerves me,” Autumn says, stroking her round belly and shuddering. She earns her keep here by helping to look after Helaena, Jaehaera, and Maelor. Aegon treats Autumn the same way he treats his wife and children, which is to say he generally ignores her; on the rare occasion he is subjected to her presence for more than a fleeting moment, he becomes uneasy, irritable. Autumn does not appear to be offended. She says this is the best job she’s ever had. “She’s always muttering the strangest things. Caterpillars and crabs and dragons and only the gods know what else. Yesterday she told me not to dance with the half-year queen. What the fuck does that mean?”

“Helaena’s a bit different,” you admit.

“She’s inbred, that’s what she is. I can’t imagine what those kids are going to grow up to be like. A brother and sister for parents? It’s a wonder they don’t have feathers or tails.” Autumn taps the swell of her belly. “At least this one—if it’s a Targaryen after all—has had its bloodline thoroughly diluted.”

You watch her standing there in the fiery late-afternoon light, this body that has comforted, consoled, satisfied, suffered, known so many men. “What does it feel like?” you ask quietly.

“What? Being with child?”

“No, the…um…the act that led to it.”

“Oh, yes.” Autumn stretches with her hands on the small of her back and smiles vaguely, nostalgically. “That’s the strange thing. It can feel like heaven or hell or nothing at all. If the man knows what he’s doing, and cares enough to try, he can make it better for you.”

“Better how?”

She furrows her brow, shoots you a skeptical sideways glance. She is aware that you are inexperienced, but the extent of your blind spots continuously shock her. It occurs to you that perhaps naivety is a privilege; some cannot recall a time before they were acquainted with truths of the world that others consider forbidden. “You know. He’ll use his hands or his mouth to get you ready. Or better yet, both at once.”

“Ready,” you repeat, not understanding.

“Well, you see…” Autumn takes a moment to decide how best to explain. “Men change when they are aroused, yes? Women do the same. It takes longer, and it is not always so obvious. But it is vital. The more ready you are, the more comfortably he will fit inside you.”

“And what if he doesn’t get you ready? If he doesn’t have the skill, or he doesn’t believe it’s necessary, or he doesn’t even know that’s something women require?” Or he just wants to hurt you. He just wants to watch you bleed like something he goes into the woods to kill and gut and devour.

Autumn smirks cynically. “That depends.”

“On what?”

“The sizes involved. Some men are bigger than others, and women have different dimensions as well. Couples can be well-matched or not. Sometimes it isn’t too bad. Sometimes it feels like you’re being ripped apart. And that doesn’t necessarily stop after the first time either.”

“And you can’t say no.”

“You can say no all you want. But he doesn’t have to listen.”

You peer out over Blackwater Bay, sunbeams flashing on wave crests and gulls swooping in the reddening sky. But you don’t really see it. What you see are fingerprints of dirt or ash on your thighs, snow in your hair, books laden with dust, fur coats and evergreen trees, rust-stains of blood on bedsheets.

“I’ve heard that Lord Stark is a very large man,” Autumn nudges. She knows, everyone knows.

“He’s massive,” you say forlornly. “He’s taller than Aemond and twice as broad.”

“The king isn’t so big,” she says, pretending that the thought has just popped into her mind, as if she hasn’t noticed the way you and Aegon look at each other, speak to each other, find excuses to touch each other.

“No,” you agree in a whisper.

“And he’s not a brute. I can’t fairly speak to his skill, I never had him anywhere close to sober. But he has no appetite for women’s pain. That’s a valuable gem in a man, it’s like stumbling across a ruby or a pearl.”

You nod; but you don’t want to think about Autumn lying with Aegon. You don’t want to think about the child they might share. In a world so dark, it seems cruel to begrudge people creating life where none existed before. But when you picture Aegon touching someone else, that darkness seeps in through your skin like rain soaks the earth and can’t find its way out. “We’re going to the library together tomorrow, aren’t we?”

Autumn groans. “Did I agree to that? I don’t believe I did.”

She did not, this is true; you badgered, she deflected. “You’ll enjoy it.”

“I am illiterate.”

“I told you. I’ll teach you how to read.”

“Why would I want to stare at ink marks in a book all day when I could be outside in the sunshine listening to the ocean and herding inbred little freaks like sheep?”

“Because books can take you anywhere,” you say.

“I like where I am. I’ve never seen anyplace better.”

“Okay, Autumn,” you concede, smiling. “I’ll ask again tomorrow. Hopefully you’ll change your mind.”

“Say hello to Helaena for me,” she says, meandering back towards Alicent and the children. Her footprints in the sand are erased when the gurgling waves roll over them. “Maybe one of those fancy books can help you translate lunacy into the Common Tongue.”

Upstairs in her bedchamber, Helaena is standing in front of an open window. It doesn’t offer a view of the ocean; it is positioned over a courtyard of sandstone and chatting courtiers. Helaena does not seem to hear them. She gazes out into the sunset, celestial rage on her impassive face.

“He’s leaving soon,” she says, not turning to look at you.

“Who, Helaena? Aemond? He left days ago. He’s already gone, he’s on his way to the Riverlands. But he’ll be back soon.” You don’t know if that’s true—it probably isn’t, in fact—but you’re certain that Helaena misses him. Her children do too; he is more of a father to them than Aegon has ever been, not in body but in soul.

She only repeats: “He’s leaving soon.”

“Helaena, what—?”

“He’ll leave you. Then you’ll leave him. He’ll make you.”

At last, and very slowly, she revolves like the stripe of shadow across a sundial. In her cupped palms is a butterfly, shimmering gold wings and spiderlike black legs. It takes flight, flutters aimlessly through the vermillion air, escapes out the open window.

~~~~~~~~~~

A peculiar twist of fate: his palm on your forehead, his whispers through your hair. Now he is the one who has stolen into your bed when the moon and stars hang high in the darkness outside. There is a noise somewhere beyond him, disembodied and hazy, that reminds you of torrential rain: omnipresent, thunderous.

“Angel,” Aegon is saying. “Wake up. Please wake up. I have to go.”

Go? Go where? You murmur, still half-asleep: “You can’t leave.” He isn’t strong enough yet. He can’t fight, he can’t run.

“I have to. They’re here.”

“Who…?”

The answer comes from the sounds that you are only now awake enough to understand: screaming, pounding boots, slamming doors, the ravenous crackling of fire, the shrieking of dragons. You have learned all of their unearthly voices. That’s not Vhagar or Tessarion or Sunfyre or Dreamfyre… It flashes by your windows, a comet of gold and flames.

You bolt out of bed. “Rhaenyra—?!”

“Rhaenyra, Syrax, Daemon, Caraxes.”

Daemon shouldn’t be here. He should be losing battles to Aemond and Criston. “But he’s at Harrenhal!”

“Not anymore.” Aegon takes your hand and pulls you out into the hallway, the hem of your nightgown billowing around your legs, his short silver hair flying behind him. There are servants and guards rushing by you, weeping, shouting, searching for places to hide. Grand Maester Orwyle ambles towards the rookery to send out ravens. Several rooms away, you can hear Helaena wailing and Autumn trying to soothe her. Larys Strong intercepts Aegon and gives him a hooded cloak; Aegon yanks it over his bare, mutilated chest, whimpering as the rapid movement strains the red-and-ivory disarray of scar tissue that used to be his skin. “You have everything?” he asks Larys hoarsely. You notice now that the Master of Whisperers has a satchel slung over one shoulder.

“Yes, Your Grace. Milk of the poppy, rose oil, the crown.”

“Wine?”

Larys produces a bottle. Aegon gulps down half of it, then passes the rest to you. You hesitate before finishing the wine, red like the sigil of House Celtigar, like fire, like blood. “They are closing all roads out of the city,” Larys tells Aegon, speaking swiftly. “King’s Landing will be taken. We will surrender. We cannot fight a dragon, let alone two.”

“Aemond and Criston—?”

“Daemon must have outflanked them.”

Aegon grabs your hand again and does not let go as he trails Larys through corridors and down claustrophobically tight spiral staircases. “The roads are blocked,” Aegon explains to you breathlessly. “But there are secret passageways beneath the castle. I know them. Larys knows them. Daemon probably knows them too, but he has other places to be.”

And through a window of a staircase, you see him: Caraxes spiraled around the apex of the Tower of the Hand, screaming fire into the sky before descending the length of the tower towards the hoards of hysterical courtiers fleeing below, his claws jostling loose bricks that rain down on them.

The bottom of the stairwell opens up into a large, dusty, dirt-floored chamber with stone tunnels leading in every direction like spokes of a wheel. Alicent is there, sobbing wildly, and so is Otto. Otto is telling Jaehaera that she must be a brave little girl and go with Sir Willis Fell. Alicent is giving little Maelor over to Sir Rickard Thorne, your once-alleged-kinfolk. The child is panicked and crying, flushed face and white hair. Aegon glances at the scene and then keeps moving, towing you along with him.

“Princess Jaehaera will go to Storm’s End,” Larys says. “Prince Maelor will go to Oldtown. They face execution if they stay. We must risk smuggling them out of the city.”

“What about Aegon?” you ask as the three of you hasten into a corridor thick with cobwebs and illuminated by torchlight. The stone ceiling is arched and perhaps seven feet tall; faintly, you can still hear the muffled turmoil of King’s Landing falling to Rhaenyra and Daemon.

“I’m going Dragonstone.” And it does not elude you that he didn’t say we. “If Rhaenyra is here, that likely means Dragonstone is vacant. I will go to the Crownlands families that you believe to be willing to betray her and beg them for support. I will take Dragonstone and prepare a counterassault from there. Hopefully Sunfyre will find me. Hopefully I’m not killed on the way.”

“Okay,” you say. “I’m going too.”

“You’re staying in King’s Landing.”

“No.” You stop dead, wrenching your hand out of Aegon’s. “No, what if you get hurt, or sick, or what if you get really bad again—?!”

“Listen!” he shouts with dire intensity, his eyes wide and pleading in the torchlight. “I can’t protect you. I can’t even protect myself. There could be bandits on the road, there could be Black soldiers, there could be animals, there could be fucking anything. I can’t take you with me. I don’t know if I’ll be able to get to Dragonstone. But I know if I stay here Rhaenyra will murder me. I don’t have a choice. I have one option, and it’s not good. But you’ll be safe in King’s Landing.”

“Aegon, no—”

“The Blacks don’t think you’re here by choice. They think I’ve imprisoned you. Tell them that’s what happened and they will welcome you back. Your family will protect you.”

“Aegon, please don’t—”

His palm on your cheek, his braid coming unraveled in his hair. “You will wait out the war with them. And when it’s over I’ll find you.” Tears glistening in his eyes, his voice going soft and tender. “If I’m still alive, I’ll find you. I swear to all the gods I will.”

He’s leaving. He’s really leaving. “What can I do?” you ask, your words strangled; your throat is burning, your eyes wet. “What can I do to help you?”

And you expect him to say things you already know: Don’t tell anyone where I’ve gone. Don’t tell anyone what you’ve heard in the Greens’ council meetings. Instead, Aegon grins as he says: “Try to get one of your three superfluous sisters to seduce Cregan Stark.”

You laugh, the sound echoing off ancient, filthy stones.

“My mother and Otto are waiting for you. You will be with them when they are taken to Rhaenyra. They are high-ranking prisoners of war, they will be spared the brutality of the Black soldiers and so will you. They will corroborate that you were my captive.”

“I understand.”

“I have to go now,” Aegon says like an apology, swiping tears from your face with his thumbs. He breaks away from you and follows Larys Strong down the tunnel. They are shadows under the torchlight, cloaks and whispers.

“Aegon,” you call after him, and he stops. I never told you what I wanted. I never told you what I feel for you. “What if I never see you again?”

You don’t know what you want him to do or say. There’s nothing that could make this right. But he soars back to you, takes you roughly and desperately, buries his hands in your hair and kisses you deeply, tasting like wine and heat and the smoke filling the world outside. He means for it to be quick, but he can’t stop. His tongue darts between your lips, his hips press to yours, you arch into him wanting more, infinitely more.

What was I so afraid of? you think dizzily. How could I be afraid of anything with him?

“Your Grace,” Larys appeals regretfully. “Please. We don’t have much time.”

Aegon twists off his dragon ring—gold wings, jade eyes—and slips it onto your left hand. And you’re still staring down at it, mystified, as Aegon disentangles himself from you and vanishes into the darkness.

[foxy-eva]

Sub!Spencer Headcanons

Content Warnings: (18+, minors DNI) Sub!Spencer, Dom!Reader, mentions nicknames, praise kink, punishment, begging, edging/orgasm control, mild degradation

You noticed early on how much effect it had on Spencer when you'd take over control and playfully call him good boy in the bedroom. When he finally opens up about his desires, you make sure that he feels safe enough to tell you about everything he yearns for.

He wants nothing more than to be able to stop thinking and just be there to please you. More than once has he fallen down to his knees to practically beg you to let him forget everything but you.

He is very good at listening and following your demands. You reward him with endless praise, telling him how amazing he does and how pretty he looks with his widened eyes and his cheeks all rosy.

He loves when you take control over his pleasure, edging him for what feels like hours until he begs you to allow him to finish. In those moment when he seems so pitiful and pathetic and all his moans have turned into whimpers and sobs, you truly know how much Spencer trusts you to always take care of him.

He loves to be good for you, to do everything you ask him to. The only thing his struggles with is patience, he's always a little bit too eager (or desperate). But he knows that you'd only ever punish him in ways that are very pleasurable for the both of you.

When you have him at the point where any coherent thought has long left his brain, you like to tease him about it. It amazes you how it only takes a few moments to turn him from a boy wonder to your personal good boy.

After making him fall apart all night you love nothing more but to carefully put him back together again. You like to hold him inside your arms, his head on your chest, while you whisper sweet nothings into his soft curls. In those moments he craves your touch more than anything else in the world.

Even when he's all spent and exhausted his will to please doesn't stop, so he doesn't question it when you tell him to have a glass of water and some snacks or to get into the shower with you.

He can also be stubborn at times, insisting that it's his job to provide aftercare, too. So more often than not you end up taking care of one another, making each other feel loved and safe.

Thank you for reading! If you are you looking for more Sub!Spencer content check out my stories Debut, Lipstick Stains and Teaching & Teasing

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[ev3rm0re-q]

study nights.

desc: you have a hard time trying to get taehyun's attention as he tries to study and accomplish his physics homework.

pairing: taehyun x shy reader

genre: fluff

warning/s: nonee

wc: 1,548 words

a/n: bro he looks SOO fine in these pictures i canttt. anyway, im so sorry for being so ia huhu but i j wanted to thank everyone for all the support the first post has been getting <33 i want to reply to the comments but im so bad at simply interacting with others that im scared to sound awkward kjdfnajkd. ik this is another fluff but i swear ive been working on a muchh longer fic that i wannna post soon, so stay tuned and i hope u guys enjoy this one first!!

Only the scribbling of words on some papers and the sound of typing on a keyboard could be heard in Kai and Taehyun's shared room as the two of you went about with your own separate activities.

Kai, his roommate, was currently in the living area with the other boys, given that he didn't want to interrupt you two during your time alone. Which was a bit of a wasted effort considering Taehyun seemed to be using it more for his solo study time. 

At the moment, your boyfriend was devoting his utmost attention to his academics, with different papers and books systematically scattered all around the small study desk. His favorite pen on hand for extra notes, and he had a laptop propped up by a stand, followed by a Bluetooth keyboard on which he was currently typing his heart out.

You, on the other hand, were sat timidly on his bed with a good novel pressed against your nose. You did not wish to disrupt the boy because you knew how serious he was about his studies.

He had been trying to complete an extremely difficult homework for his Physics class, and because you didn't choose that as one of your classes for the year, you'd have no idea how much pain and suffering he'd have to endure in that class.

Like he was even going to suffer with that Professor Kim around.

Taehyun was very academically inclined, and as a result of the way he behaved himself, participated in class, and excelled in all of the work given to him, he often became the teachers' favorite student.

You could not help but admire your boyfriend for it. He truly possessed a lot of exceptional qualities.

Though your relationship was not as fresh as it used to be―you both being together for eight months long―you could not help but let your bashful manners take over when it came to situations like these.

You'd always been a shy and reserved kid who couldn't seem to take a stand for what you wanted in public interactions.

Of course, you could still converse with strangers when they needed directions and whatnot, but you never bothered to join large gatherings or tried to blend in with the other kids because you felt it was pointless and time-consuming. Basically being the opposite of Yeonjun... but you were still close friends with him.

Which is why you've often questioned how you managed to catch the attention of the extroverted boy sitting at the desk across from you. Maybe it was the random exchanges in the hallways- or you being well-acquainted with the rest of the boys.

Who knows?

You were just thankful that someone saw something special in you.

You looked up from your novel, expecting him to be almost finished with what he was doing and offer you some of his attention. Instead, you were disappointed to see that he remained deeply absorbed in his study. His focused gaze visible in his dark-brown eyes.

Because of this, you began to wonder if approaching him for attention was even a good idea. You decided to move a bit forward from your position until you were directly behind him, sitting on the edge of the bed.

For the following thirty minutes, you continued to silently read as he worked, giving him subtle hints that you wanted him to at least feel your presence from right behind him and take a glance at you.

"Tae?" You murmured out softly, unsure whether you wanted him to actually hear you or not.

He continued to focus solely on his work as he hummed out in response, "Hm?"

"How's your worksheet going?" You awkwardly questioned.

"Pretty rough, if I'm being honest. Why, love?"

"I-uhh just wanted to make sure you were doing alright." You uttered out before going back to your book.

Another hour had soon passed, and his prior hyper radar focus appeared to have cooled down to a more relaxed state as he progressed more with finishing his homework.

You were finding it difficult to concentrate on the task at hand because of the guys' occasional loud noise s outside, which was beginning to increase.

"You know, if you needed my attention, you could have just said so," He suddenly stated, out of the blue, eyes still glued to his screen.

"Huh?" You let out, not expecting him to even notice what you've been doing the whole time he was so immersed in his work.

"You heard me, love." He turned his chair around to finally look at you after hours of having his full attention on his homework.

"I'm not needy for your attention." you sneered, not wanting to appear 'needy' to him.

You hated that word. Needy. You were particularly insecure over having that trait in your relationship. You wished to prove to your boyfriend that you were just as responsible and self-sufficient as he had always been.

You frequently walked yourself home from school and even took precautions as to avoid spending too much time with him by only seeing him once or twice a week or texting him a lot but not too much to bother him. 

Even while you were out with all of your friends, you took care to keep your proximity to him to a minimum so as not to overly suffocate him. It was a pretty big deal to you.

"So you wouldn't mind if I keep going until Soobin calls us for dinner?" 

"Not at all." Your stubbornness took over as your y/e/c eyes never left the book.

So he continued studying for another couple of minutes and you were getting more impatient by the second. 'I fucked up.' you thought, remembering how much Taehyun truly sticks to his word.

You slowly started to fidget with the corners of the pages of your book, looking over your phone every now and then to try and find something to entertain you. Until, you finally broke. You stood up from the bed and headed over to where he sat to place your hands on his broad shoulders.

"Honey~" you called him out and him just humming back again in response.

Actually, he had finished the entirety of his worksheet a few minutes before. He was just pretending to do work to simply get a reaction out of you. The boy only wanted you to get over the shyness you still had, at least a bit, whenever you sought his attention or desired affection. To at least voice it out to him.

You spoke his name out once more, but he simply responded with another hum, seemed to barely acknowledge your calls.

"Can we... you know.."

"Huh?" His eyes still glued onto the PowerPoint he was currently 'studying'.

"...cuddle" You barely whispered out, not even sure if anyone could have heard what you just said.

"Excuse me... can we what, darling?" He teasingly replied.

As soon as you realized he was merely doing it to playfully taunt you, your stubborness resurfaced.  

"You know what, never mind." You immediately took your hands off of his shoulders, backing out of your previous statement and started to walk back to his bed.

You suddenly heard another loud squeal come from the living room, it was probably Yeonjun teasing Kai again. That's when the idea popped into your head. You started making a beeline for the door, trying to leave without muttering another word to your boyfriend.

"What do you think you're doing?" His eyes left the screen in front of him.

"Well, I figured the rest of the boys were just playing around outside, and since you're busy, I figured I could just get extra cuddles from Kai or Beomgyu, or something." You blurted, your novel still safely stored in your hand, as you inched closer to the door.

You then felt a soft hand grab your empty one, swiftly pulling you back. Your body was tenderly encircled by familiar arms from behind, and you felt his body's warmth envelop yours as his head rested on your shoulder.

"Just say it, please." You heard him barely mumbling it into your shoulder.

"Say that you want my attention. That you want me." He practically begged into your ear.

Since he was so close to you, you stammered out "I-I" as you felt his hot breath brush up against your neck like a feather.

"You don't have to look for it from other people, Y/N. I'm here." He reassured you before slowly guiding you back towards his bed.

You two simply lay there together as you gazed into his large, dark-brown eyes that nearly had the appearance of dark pearls. As he was witnessing your open gawking at him, he couldn't help but let out a soft giggle. 

"Why are you laughing so much." You pouted as he continued to tease you.

"I don't know, honestly. I just can't help the fact that I find you pretty cute." He remarked.

"Ugh, you're such a tease Kang Taehyun."

He then brought you in even closer before sealing the already little space between you with a gentle but hungry kiss.

--

"Were you really going to ask for cuddles from Beomgyu?"

"I think you missed the part where I also said Kai."

End.

[117luv]

flowers for you

genre: fluff, established relationship

warnings: none

pairing: enha hyung line x fem!reader

a/n: hey loves! posting after being ia cause life just gets busy but we move forward lol and i hope everyone enjoy this and love ya! also hbd to my babyboy jake <3

heeseung

heeseung had always shown his love for you in various ways, from little things such as having your hairtie on his wrist to buying your favorite snacks whenever he went shopping, even if you didn't tell him to purchase them for you. as a small token of your appreciation for him being the best boyfriend, you decided to pick up flowers on your way home. you opened the door and were met with silence, which means he hasn't gone home yet, and you quickly hid the bouquet of lilac flowers before he arrived. his footsteps were heard while you were cleaning things, and you immediately greeted him in the living room. "hi baby, i missed you so much. also, how's work today?" as you hugged him, pressing a kiss on his shoulder. "it was okay, and i miss you more," he replied while hugging you tightly as he took in your scent. you let go of the embrace and quickly ran into the kitchen, grabbing the flowers, and quickly ran back to him. he was confused at first and asked, "what are the flowers for, love?" to which you replied, "they're for you, my love. i just want to show you my appreciation for being the best boyfriend, so i picked these flowers on my way home," as you gave them to him. he couldn't help but pull you for another embrace as he showers your face with kisses. "thank you for the flowers, baby. you just made my day 100 times better. i love you," he said as he placed a kiss on your forehead. "i love you more," you replied as you kissed his lips.

jay

it was the final day of their fate concert in seoul and you wanted to surprise your boyfriend. he had asked you if you could come to their concert, but you declined due to your work overlapping the schedule, which turns out to be a lie because you're planning to surprise him by coming there when he least expected it. as he heard you apologize for not being able to, he reassured you that it was alright and understandable, despite the fact that, deep down, he wanted you to see him perform. as you arrived at the concert venue, you felt as though you were their fans in the crowd. the concert was amazing, and the boys did great, especially jay when he started playing the electric guitar. you were quickly escorted to the back stage, grabbed the bouquet of blue hydrangea flowers from the staff, and walked towards their dressing room. he was wiping off his sweat when he saw your reflection in front of the mirror with a bouquet in your hands. his eyes widened, and he quickly ran towards you as he hugged you tightly. "congratulation, baby. im so proud of you," you said as you gave him the flowers. he felt like a young boy having a puppy crush as his heart beat faster while grabbing the flowers. "they are so beautiful, angel. thank you for giving me this; i will surely treasure this day," he said as he pressed a kiss on your cheek. as the adrenaline died down, he asked you about how you were here when you had work, to which you replied by lying about it in order to pull off this surprise. he just pulled you back to him and started asking about your day.

jake

the members wanted to pull off a surprise for jake's birthday, and you are more than happy to help the boys pull it off. jay and sunghoon decided to prepare the cake; sunoo and jungwon prepared the place, while ni-ki prepared the gifts. you had assigned heeseung to be the person to lure jake towards the surprise. as everyone is trying to fix everything, you took the flowers and quickly took care of the rest. suddenly, heeseung texted you that they were 5 minutes away and put everyone in their place. jay was holding the cake while the others had the poppers ready once he entered the room. jake entered the pitch-black room, and as the lights turned on, he was met with the members as they were holding up a cake and popping the poppers while greeting him a happy birthday. his eyes searched for a familiar figure, and he slightly pouted when he failed to find you amongst his members. all of a sudden, there was someone poking in his shoulder, and as he turned around, he saw you with a bouquet of roses in your hands. he couldn't help but flash you the biggest smile as he hugged you. "i thought you wouldn't be here," he said while pulling you closer. "why would i miss my favorite boy's birthday and flowers for you. happy birthday, baby," you said while kissing him on the lips. he grabbed the flowers and thanked you for giving them to him, and as the party started, he held on to you the entire time while pressing kisses on your cheek. it was truly a great way to end his birthday alongside his members and the person he loved the most.

sunghoon

it was your second anniversary, and you had a whole day planned for the two of you. sunghoon had cleared his day just to spend it with you, which means a lot due to his hectic schedule as an idol. he had come home later than usual and is currently curled up in your arms with his face hidden in your neck. as much as you loved to stay like this forever, you wanted to prepare breakfast and the flowers you had bought yesterday for him. you quickly lifted his arms and replaced it with your pillow to not wake him up. he stirred a bit but went back to sleep momentarily. you made your way to the kitchen and started to cook breakfast for the both of you, and after a few minutes, you had finished the meal. it's now your time to wake him up as you carry the tray towards your shared bedroom. you gently woke him up, and he started to slowly open his eyes. his eyes were met with yours, and you kissed his lips while he was waking up. the kiss had definitely woken him up, and he quickly stood up. "can you give me a warning next time? i cant have a heart attack at 7 in the morning," he said, to which you replied, "love, we have been dating for years now. you shouldn't be surprised with my kisses," while placing the tray in front of him. "oh, what's this? you didn't have to do this for me," he said while staring at the food in front of him. "you deserve it, baby, and here are flowers for you," as you gave him a bouquet of yellow daisies, which caught him off guard. "darling, what did i do in my past life to deserve you?" he said as he pulled you for an embrace and said, "happy 2nd anniversary, my love." he said after placing a kiss in your forehead.

[loppsided]

s. reid with bau reader

summary: spencer dating someone who works at the bau

pairing: spencer reid x reader

wc: 337

warnings: mentions kidnapping

a/n: omg!! im sooo sorry for not posting, these last few weeks have been so hectic for me, even though its fall break ive been swamped. im going to write a few fics to hold down for a few days but after i might go ia due to school starting up again ! also! i will try my hardest to get to requests. reblogs and likes appreciated.

him bringing you coffee every morning

if you don't have a car like him, you take the subway together, he reads to you on the train ride back home after work

you probably kept your relationship strictly professional the first few years you worked there but slowly warmed up to him

takes your casework so you can have less

waits for you by your desk to finish your casework so you can leave together

holding hands and subconsciously playing footsies at the round table

hearing him go on all those random rants and never stopping him because you love them

falling asleep on/next to each other on the plane

playing solitaire or uno on the plane rides back home and being loud as hell

checking your for cuts or bruises after cases that go wrong

if anything ever happened to you like being kidnapped or hurt he would be a mess

trying very hard to get you back, even trying to find the unsub by himself

or pacing back in forth in the hospital waiting room after you got hurt and are in surgery

taking care of you when your better and being scared of you going back into the field

spending the few breaks you get each year together

him letting you meet his mother after 8-12 months of dating

having lunch together everyday at your desks

spending the night at each others houses after hard cases

comforting each other after emilys passing and after she came back

him reading to you on the plane to calm your mind and get you to sleep

getting close faster than normal couples since your always together

because of that you said 'i love you' 2-4 months in

fiddling with his hands, tracing all the veins and his finger nails to distract yourself

sitting at his bedside holding his hand when he was in the hospital for either getting shot or the anthrax attack

being a constant support system for one another for this emotionally taxing job

[smoooothoperator]

untouchable

10: Every Breath You Take

Lando Norris x OC (Violet Sinclair)

same group friend, unrequited love, acquittances to lovers, ski trip, love triangle

Words: 1.4k

Warnings: Harry, stalking, manipulation, drug use, sexual assault.

a/n: every story needs their villain! And this is actually the first one I ever wrote in my life. I think I want to make ia longer story than usual, with complex characters and a full plot worthy of a book. Who knows, maybe I'll even write a book based in this story? 👀 (Would you buy it?) Anyway... I want you to know that if some of you know a person that behaves the same way, stay alert. This is not healthy, contact people and make sure that person is away. Be safe.

Masterlist

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Psychopath (noun). A person with a psychopathic personality, which manifests as amoral and antisocial behavior, lack of ability to love or establish meaningful personal relationships, extreme egocentricity, failure to learn from experience, etc.

Narcissist (noun). A person who is intensely concerned with only his or her own self or interests and who seems to forget that others exist.

He never liked how he looked at her. How he smiled when she walked inside the room. How he always got up first whenever she asked for something.

Who does he think he is? How dare he do those things?

But later he understood it. He fell for her. That guy fell for her.

Her.

Violet Sinclair.

When he met her he thought she was pathetic. A pathetic thing that could only be his, to be used by him. How can someone as her smile that much? The way she tried to be friends with everyone irritated him.

But then she smiled at him.

That girl, who was clumsy and dumb, smiled at him.

And he promised himself that she won't smile at anyone else.

But then she introduced him to her friend Eloise.

Eloise was different to Violet. And he didn't like that. He didn't like that she was an independent woman, someone that already works on her family business, someone that can make money on her own. But he can use her for his own pleasure. He can have her whenever he wants to please himself.

So when he saw Lando Norris trying to reach for her, he did everything to keep him away from her, to keep Violet for himself and making sure she wouldn't try to be close to him.

“See? He loves the attention” he scoffed walking next to her through the paddock.

“I mean, he's famous…”

“But you don't see the way he smiles at everyone? He loves to hear how people compliment him. What an asshole” he laughed. “You should see how he acts during the parties”

“Gross” she groaned, making him smirk proudly.

But he can't always have what he wants.

He despised every man that touched her. And he made sure to push them away from her and make her look that no one will love her how she deserves.

Jared was the first one he met. Apparently, they met during summer. He was a guy two years older than her that studied in Manchester. Too far, too easy.

“Violet, you won't believe this” he frowned, walking towards her, holding his phone in her hand.

“What's that?” she frowned.

“I won't say I told you, but…” he sighed, showing her his phone.

A picture of Jared with another woman. Staged, of course. He knows that woman is his cousin, but since Violet never met his family, why would she know?

“W-what? No… he promised me!” she gasped.

“I'm sorry… come here” he sighed, opening his arms for her, letting her cry on his shoulder.

Then Michael came. He hated him the first moment he saw him leaning against that Mercedes-Benz, waiting for her at the door of the college. It was so disgusting, watching how he looked at Violet like she was a trophy, someone to sit in his expensive car and take her to boring places. But still, it was too easy for him.

“He broke up with me!” she frowned, walking inside the classroom and sitting next to him.

“What? What happened?”

“He said I'm not of his level” she scoffed, throwing her arms to the air “That his mother doesn't like that I'm not from the high class or shit like that”

“His loss” he scoffed.

“And he had the guts to say that by text! Not even a call! Look!” she frowned, showing him the text he made sure that stupid man wrote in front of him.

“What an asshole” he laughed, watching with a hidden pride that screen.

Owen was a little harder. But not everything is easy, if it was, life would be so boring.

He had to see how his Violet loved that man, how she had heart eyes whenever they were together. And that made his blood boil. He wanted that man out of her life, away and making sure that he never comes back to her. And never sounded so good for him.

It took him longer than he wanted, but he enjoyed every second of the final result.

It was her birthday party. All of them planned to surprise her at a club, renting the local only for the party. Or more like, Owen decided to make a party and include all her friends.

How disgusting. He hated that man, watching how he smiled at everyone and making sure everyone knew he was her boyfriend.

But until today.

When the party started and people were on the dancefloor, he started his plan. He only needed a drink for him and a few drops of the little bottle he had.

“Hey, mate” he smiled walking towards Owen, patting his back. “Today you did an amazing job. Here, cheers!”

“Thank you” he smiled, grabbing the shot glass, drinking it.

It was the beginning of the ending. And he was in the first row to watch it.

He only needed to give him three shots before it started to make an effect. The smile on his lips grew wider when he saw him walk towards Violet, taking her to an empty corner. The way he held her, kissed her and touched her. How she tried to escape from him. How he held her again, how he kissed her even if she tried to push him away.

It was just perfect. He never expected the drug to make someone act that way. The way he cried in panic, escaping from his touch.

She looked beautiful.

“Eh! Get away from her!” he screamed, running towards them and punching Owen.

The pain on his knuckles was nothing compared to the pleasure of hearing Violet cry and hold onto him when he saved her.

After that, it was easy to keep her close to him. She saw him as her saviour, as someone she completely trusts. And he loved that. He loved to see that for a while she didn't trust other men, that during the races she stayed with him. He loved to see how she started to fell in love with him slowly.

And the best part of it? That Eloise didn't mind. He thought it was good, she liked that both of them were close and she never questioned it.

How stupid.

But then she started to get close with Max and Lando again. He felt proud when he saw her be distant with them, but the moment he realized that Lando was trying again to get closer to her, he tried to find a way to eliminate him.

It was funny. Following him around the clubs, sending girls to him making sure they distract him while he took pictures of them. It was something that pleased him.

But Lando never tried to be her boyfriend. And it was something that drove him mad. But still, he had everything planned. All the pictures, all the videos, the audios. It was perfect. His masterpiece.

Yet, he never suspected anything. He never noticed the boxes that arrived at her apartment every two weeks. He never noticed the amount of books she was increasing. He never noticed the short texts between them.

Until that trip.

If Eloise didn't ask her to come with them, Violet would be safe in her apartment alone, reading those stupid books.

If Eloise didn't mention that stupid secret admirer, his week would be more calm.

Eloise. He has to make sure she's out of the picture. Always ruining everything, trying to set Violet up with someone. Trying to take her away from him

Who does she think she is? How dare she?

He made sure to keep Violet away from her. What a better way of showing Violet that her friend doesn't care about her than making Eloise ignore her while she moans underneath her boyfriend? And somehow, he had to let all the anger out.

What he never expected was that he had to fight two battles at the same time. And he hated not having control of it.

That sneaky Lando took advantage of the situation and got closer to her. He kept her away from him. Maybe he's washing her stupid brain and telling her lies.

But he was losing control. He saw how he was losing her, and it made him mad. It made him go mad.

She will regret it. She will regret believing in Lando. She will regret everything.

Because Violet Sinclair is his property. No one else’s.

She frowned looking at the packages and then at her phone.

If it's not from Lando… then who would have sent her the packages?

She left them on her kitchen table and searched for the sender, sighing with relief when she saw the names of her parents there.

“At least they sent something” she sighed, opening the boxes.

Inside them there were a lot of things. Her favorite chocolates, a few books, perfume and a little statue of Venus. She sighed looking at it, smiling. There was a note on one of the boxes and she grabbed it, smiling weakly.

‘I hope you had a good time in the snow. Happy birthday, love’

She frowned while reading it. She never told them she was going on a trip, nor to the snow.

taglist

@elisysd @racinggirl @ninifee1802 @kakorrhaphiphobia @landoyesrizz @lorarri @bellwhysomean @leptitlu @aphroditeisamilf @brekkers-whore @copper-boom @sideboobrry11 @alltoomaples @f1madison @elijahslover @silkenthusiasts @chonkybonky @summerslike11 @randomgirlnumber-13 @is-just-a @whentheautumnleavesfall @malynn @mycenterfold @barackosteaa @izzy-marvel @ssprayberrythings

[jjkgyu]

a wonwoo as a dad would be so cute!

hope u enjoy! xx and thank u all for 900🥹 (sorry i’m so ia bc of uni😖)

wonwoo as a first time dad! ♡

wonwoo would freeze, eyes widening and heart stopping the moment you tell him that you’re pregnant. he had always wanted to be a dad, but he’d be in shock that it was about to become a reality

however, wonwoo would get used to the idea of fatherhood pretty quickly. the more he attends your ultrasound appointments and you discuss baby names and how to design the nursery, he gets so excited for his baby to arrive and to experience fatherhood

he would realise that he really doesn’t know much at all about parenting, so he sits at his computer and does as much research as he can even into the early hours of the morning so he can be prepared for his baby’s arrival

when you go into labour he’d remain super level-headed and calm for you. he’d tell you how well you’re doing through the pain, and when he meets his son for the first time you and wonwoo know everything is going to be okay.

wonwoo is so reliable when your son is a newborn. you can pretty much count on him to know anything about parenting, and he seems to know what your baby needs with every little cry or facial expression, which puts you at ease

wonwoo loves his son more than anything. he’s immediately protective over him and wants to research every food he eats or toy he plays with to make sure it’s safe for him. he takes so much pride in doing any parenting duty like bathing him and feeding him too

he manages to get up during the night when he hears his son stir. you’re thankful that he wants you to get as much sleep as possible, but most nights you get up after him and your heart melts at the sight of your husband, hair ruffled, glasses on, and tiny baby in his strong arms

some nights you hear wonwoo on the baby monitor, and you can’t help but smile at how much you love your boys. your son babbles at wonwoo while he replies “mhmm” and “i see~” as he rocks him in his arms. when he finally falls asleep and wonwoo comes back to bed, you have to hold yourself back from begging for another one

wonwoo has his son in his arms most of the time. whenever he’s dozing off watching tv, his son will be falling asleep on his chest and you can’t help but smile at how alike the two of them are. your son even prefers to sit in wonwoo’s lap instead of his high chair, which of course wonwoo doesn’t mind at all

wonwoo never knew he would be the type to worry so much, but when your son starts crawling wonwoo is on high alert at all times, his eyes following him around the room and being alert for any possible danger

wonwoo wants to teach his son as much as possible from such a young age. he’ll read to him all the time and try to teach him the alphabet while his little baby giggles and babbles back at him

one night you’re laying in bed with your son between you as wonwoo reads his bedtime story. his little baby watches him with big wide adoring eyes and among his babbling, you both look at each other in shock when he says his first word. the book would immediately be forgotten as the two of you become the proudest parents alive and coo over your smart little baby

when your son takes his first steps, wonwoo has to fight back the tears. he never wants his little baby to grow up, but he can’t believe he accomplished such a milestone and he’ll send a video of his son to his member’s gc because he’s just so proud

as your son grows up, you both quickly realise that he’s literally a mini wonwoo. the two of them do pretty much everything together - gaming, fishing, reading etc. he teaches his son old video games he used to play as a kid and he recommends books he loved when he was young

your son even needs glasses at a young age, which wonwoo jokingly apologises to him for. your son even chooses a pair to match his daddy’s and you can’t help but chuckle at the fact that they look just like twins now

your son idolises wonwoo, and wants to be just like him. wonwoo adores this and can’t help but give in to the matching pjs and outfits. your son goes everywhere his daddy goes and he’ll cling onto wonwoo and sulk every morning when he tries to leave for work

wonwoo’s son is pretty shy for his first day of school. but wonwoo is the best dad ever and he walks his little boy to the front door, kneeling down in front of him and reassuring him that he was going to be okay. “you can do anything, you know that, right?” he tells him with a soft smile before placing a kiss on his forehead and sending him inside.

wonwoo wants his son to try hard at school because he knows how smart he is. he’ll stay up late helping him understand his homework and he’s super hands on with projects for the science fair (which his son wins of course)

wonwoo gets involved with everything his son does. he attends every soccer match and award presentation and he’s the proudest dad ever, taking videos and photos with a wide smile on his face

wonwoo is great with disciplining his son, even though he doesn’t need to do it often. his son doesn’t want to disappoint him so he rarely throws tantrums.

wonwoo always makes time for you even during the hectic world of parenthood. thankfully his members offer to take your son for sleepovers so the two of you can go on date nights, and he always tells you how lucky he is to have you (even though you know it’s the other way round)

as a dad, wonwoo gives the best advice. since he’s so close with his son, his son trusts him with anything so wonwoo drops whatever he’s doing to be there for him.

overall, wonwoo would adapt so well to fatherhood and would be his son’s best friend and biggest supporter <3

[jakulvr]

HELLO HEISHIN NATION. i am back with my monthly appearances to once again, ramble about heishin!!!! this ramble is about ep 263 (i am back on the detco grind) so sorry for being slightly ia i forget tumblr is a thing sometimes...

- sometime at the beginning of the ep, heiji had called conan over to have heiji's mom's cooking and for him to ALSO watch him in the finals of his match funny thing is he was so evident on shinichi being there that shinichi himself was like "dude you have told me this already ik where im going" shinichi, heiji wants to make sure ur coming okay he's anxious like that them two always sneaking off to call each other too like if i were kazuha and saw heiji running off to call someone, another man at that, i would be losing it

- when mori asked where would heiji take them to look around osaka, he talked about taking them to the police department and some new building that was in the making. this is important bc we can see how excited shinichi gets at the thought of going to those places (meaning heiji had those places in mind JUST for shinichi to see) fellas is it gay to think of places for ur bf to see - also unrelated note but kazuran going to eat dinner together was everything to me <3333 best gfs ever

this one a bit shorter than my other rambles but heishin as always make me insane but thanks for reading if u made it this far ur a real one

[samwise1548]

To the queer Muslims who send me asks saying how greatful they are to meet another queer Muslim by coming across my blog. Thank you for sharing your feelings and gratitudes. I feel the same way when I see those messages. The only reason I haven't respond to them is because I like to keep them where I can always see them. Those messages are really uplifting and validating and, selfishly, I don't want to share them with the wider public just yet. But thank you for your kind words. iA you are all able to find more people who can relate to the experience of being Muslim and queer around you, and it becomes easier to open up about your identities. Just know, you're not alone ❤️