#waldau writes

[waldau]

I cant insert a photo here on your ask but it goes something like

"Do whatever you want!!!" X said out of anger then character Y kissed him gently. "You said do whatever i want, right?"

whatever — choi seungcheol | 1,821 words | hurt/comfort, fluff

this prompt was really cute!!!

gender neutral reader. warnings: reader is stressed out? and in need of a hug?

you love the sounds that make the house you share with seungcheol your home.

you love hearing the door creak when you open it at that specific angle. you love the sound of the clock ticking in the living room that seungcheol himself picked out. you love the sound of him walking on the wooden floor of your house, the sound of his glass when it clinks against the marble of the kitchen island, the birds chirping in the evening when you take out time to just relax against him and watch the sun set, and the sound of his quiet snores when he insists he wants to watch you watch your favourite shows, only to end up falling asleep.

there’s none of that here, in this moment.

you take off your shoes and kick them to the side, not bothering to open the cabinet to put them inside because the doors make a particularly loud sound when they snap shut, and you don’t want to risk waking seungcheol up again.

it’s been an odd couple of weeks, with you staying out late because of more work and seungcheol staying in because his workload has been relatively less for the beginning of the new year. him being at home would’ve made you happy if you didn’t have to apologize for cancelling and rescheduling dates, or for being left with energy enough only for a bath and a quick dinner, movie plus cuddling sessions replaced by cuddling in your sleep. if you were lucky to get back home in time, that is.

you stop and listen for a few moments. there’s no sound to be heard. the door to your bedroom is shut, which means that seungcheol must have already gone to sleep.

a little pang of hurt stabs your heart. it’s not like you want him to keep late hours for you, but you’re not exactly doing well in these trying times, and you’d really love to have his voice wash out your worries.

a resounding bang from the kitchen startles you. before you can even think of the worst possible scenario that could’ve just transpired, seungcheol walks out of the kitchen, a rolling pin in one hand and some flour on his hair and his rolled up sleeves. the literal definition of a hot mess.

“hey, baby,” he says, eyes widening when he sees you. “i was expecting you to be back in an hour or two.”

so it’s that bad, huh? it’s become normal for him to expect you to come back even later? you focus on the stains on his clothes instead, and the rolling pin that seems so out of place in his hand. “what exactly are you doing?”

“nothing! well, nothing much. yet. maybe you should stay out of here for a while.”

one thing about seungcheol is that he never keeps secrets. he can’t tell you a white lie to save his life, much less a black lie. “cheol,” you say, frowning, “both of us know you don’t even cook. are you baking? and why’s there flour in your hair?”

“sieving accident,” he mumbles, so quiet that you almost don’t catch it.

“should i be afraid?” you ask, pinching the bridge of your nose. you feel like your tears are a short distance away, and you really, really hope he’s done nothing more. something tells you that isn’t it, however.

“not really!” says seungcheol, but you can read him like glass at this point. the little nervous laugh and the way his nose twitches when he tries spinning facts makes you dread what you’re going to find inside. “maybe you should have a nice bath before you sleep? did you have dinner yet?”

you try to move past him into the kitchen but he blocks the entrance with his broad frame. the one time this isn’t sexy.

“cheol, let me in.”

“not until you tell me the password.”

“there’s a password now? what, something like choi seungcheol is the best?”

he giggles. “close.”

you sigh. “cheol, i’m really not in the mood to play games right now. please tell me what’s going on in there?”

he tries pulling that face, the one with the puppy eyes, where he looks at you so pleadingly that you’re generally ready to fold and do whatever he asks of you, but right now it just doesn’t work on you. the more evasive he is, the more worried you get. before he can react, you duck under his outstretched arms and into the kitchen.

rather, into the mess he’s made of the kitchen.

you’ve heard stories about junhui trying to bake. they sounded absolutely hilarious, and you’ve always wondered how he could mess up so bad that he managed to land waffle batter on the ceiling. especially when he didn’t even own a ladder to try and clean it.

it’s not funny when it’s your house that has some batter on the walls. at least it’s not the ceiling, you think, a bit hysterical, until you see flour on the…everywhere. it’s just everywhere. the counter, near the sink, in front of the oven like it’s a modern day trail of breadcrumbs that hansel and gretel would’ve followed. there’s also baking supplies scattered all over, an extremely huge sheet of baking paper lining a tray that’s sitting next to a bunch of bowls.

it’s a mess, to say the least.

“i’m sorry,” seungcheol says, gently turning you away from the sight of it. he winces when he sees your face. you don’t even know what your face looks like. all you know is that you’re tired, that you need a break, and that the last thing you would have liked to see today was your boyfriend’s face while he was peacefully asleep, and not…this.

you shake your head but no words come out.

“i’m sorry,” seungcheol repeats, setting the rolling pin down on the counter. a comical little cloud of flour rises and settles. what kind of accident even was that? “i was just…trying to bake.”

“cheol, you didn’t even know why we use baking soda till last week!”

“hey!” he says, defensive. “i asked you so i could learn. and i know this isn’t great, but—” his words dry up when he notices where your gaze lies — on the batch of cookies that are burned beyond belief.

you can’t believe your eyes, either. you’re not the biggest baker in the world, but you’ve never burned anything you’ve baked. especially not in your first attempt. maybe you’d have given up the courage to bake again if that had happened, but seungcheol clearly isn’t that bothered by it.

you don’t know if it’s because of how pitiful they look, or how long your day has been, but you feel a lump rise in your throat.

“you never even do this,” you whisper, only focusing on his face and not the mess around you. “why did you think you had to do this today?”

“am i not allowed to try things if i want to?” he asks, crossing his arms.

“it’s not that, cheol,” you say, trying to be as reasonable as possible. “i’d ask you for some help before trying something i’ve never done before. you never, ever do this. only when i ask you to help me. why today?”

“because i wanted to,” he says, almost flippant. “i’ll clean it up before you know it.”

but it’s not about the mess. it’s not about the burnt cookies. it’s not about the way he tried to block you from seeing the state of the kitchen. it’s the finality in his tone. it’s the fact that it’s not a big deal to him because he hasn’t had the day you’ve had.

seungcheol’s eyes widen when he sees your lips tremble. “are you seriously mad at me? for baking?”

“do whatever you want,” you hiss, tired and angry, feeling a single tear slide down your cheek. “i shouldn’t have looked inside.” you turn to walk away before it becomes a full fledged cascade of tears, but you don’t go far because of the hand holding on to your wrist.

“stop,” he says, holding you strong enough that it becomes futile to try and escape.

“let me go, seungcheol,” you say, avoiding his face.

“oh, no,” he breathes out, and the next thing you know is that your face is cradled in his hands and there’s a warm kiss pressed to your forehead. and your nose. and your lips. and it keeps repeating till you push him away, your face in his hands. you can feel the ugly emotions inside you ebbing away slowly, reducing to small embers that prickle the slightest bit.

“what are you doing?” you ask weakly.

“you said do whatever i want, right?” he asks, a smile on his face.

that gets you to break, for some reason. you would’ve forgiven him even if he’d gotten batter on the ceiling, because this — the sight of seungcheol with flour in his otherwise perfect hair, wearing an old shirt and beaming at you even though you’ve snapped at him — kills even those small embers.

you press your face to his chest and let the tears out silently.

seungcheol rubs your back. “hey,” he says softly. “let it out, okay? and i’m sorry about the mess. i meant it when i said i’ll clean—”

“it’s not that,” you whisper. “just…hold me?”

seungcheol complies, and you find yourself swaying in his hold in the silence of your house.

“want to talk to me about it?” he offers when you pull away, feeling slightly better. “i’m—”

“stop apologizing to me, cheol,” you say, laughing a little wetly. “it’s not the kitchen. i’ve just…i’ve been missing you like crazy and i miss just being with you without doing anything. i hate coming home late and seeing you asleep by yourself in our bed. i want…i want things to go back to the way they were.”

“so, a bad week?”

“more than one.”

“but you have me here at the end of every single day, right?” seungcheol says, pushing up the corners of your lips to make you smile. you do smile, but it’s because of the cute grin he has on his face. “we’ll get through it before you know it.”

you sigh. “it sounds good when you say it like that.”

“because i mean it. also, one more thing.”

“yeah?”

“please don’t ever call me by my whole name again.”

“only if you mess up the kitchen that bad again.”

“hey!”

“also, why were you baking in the first place?”

“because i wanted to cheer you up,” he says, sheepish, and you want to do nothing more than hold his face and kiss him silly.

“you’re an idiot, baby,” you say, cradling his face in your hands. “but you’re my idiot. and i love you.”

seungcheol’s blushing face is quite possibly enough to get you through tomorrow.

taglist: @bookyeom @wootify @strnsvt @cloudycaramel @thepoopdokyeomtouched @minnieminshi @nonononranghaee @hrts4hanniehae @viewvuu

[honey-lets-fucking-run]

Me: pitting Nikolaj Coster Waldau and Andreas Pietschmann against each other as brothers, cause they look so much alike they could actually be brothers.

Also me: continues to be completely stumped by the similarities to the point of forgetting what sentence I wanted to put in.

[countrymusiclover]

Do I want to write another GOT book because I'm watching House of the Dragon....yes

Anyone have any ideas?

Jaime or Robb preferred 🤔

[spacebarbarianweird]

Hi! Love your writing and I wanted to give you some food for thought, see if it interests you perhaps 🤭 Astarion×Tav is usually about someone smaller in size and maybe a druid or healer, but my character is a tiefling berserk barbarian... with a bigger body size... horns and tail in all their glory... if you are interested I'd love to hear if you'd got some headcanons for a character like this? 💕🙏🏻

Hi! When imagining a bigger f!Tav with Astarion, I can't stop thinking about Gwendolyn Christie (aka Brienne of Tarth) and Nikolaj Coster-Waldau (aka Jaime Lannister). Look at the photos of them, especially when Gwen wears high-heels (and she also has a husband who is much shorter than her but sews all her dresses to make her the most fabulous 6.3 ft tall woman)

Also, Neil Newbon plays a bigger druid, Tav. He was shocked that she picked Astarion in the first sex scene ^-^

NSFW Version

Masterlist

Headcanons

Astarion x F!BulkyTav

When you hug, Astarion's face is right up against your chest, and he can hear your heartbeat.

Which is soothing to him.

The running water problem is solved! You lift Astarion "bridal style" and put him onto your shoulders to cross the river.

Astarion is grumpy about it every time.

But deep inside, he enjoys it.

Need a better view to aim? Well, you are right here in all your barbarian 6.3 ft. glory!

Astarion can't take his eyes off how graciously you walk with a two-handed ax on your shoulders.

And once you both return to the civilized world, he will get you a dress and high heels.

Because with high heels and a dress, you will look like a gods damn goddess of war!

Is he intimidated by the fact you are taller? Never. You are his big and powerful wife, and he's proud of everything you do!

You are a big spoon, of course. And being wrapped in your hands makes Astarion feel warm and safe.

When in rage, you don't feel pain, and it hurts him to see you wounded and with broken bones

He puts your head on his lap and strokes your hair to soothe you after the battle.

Once, Astarion was caught off guard by vampire hunters who beat him and left him helpless in the sunrise.

You managed to get there right in time to crack the hunters' skulls.

And quickly carry Astarion to the safety and darkness.

Unfortunately, the merciless sun burnt him enough to slow vampire regeneration, and it took Astarion a month to fully recover.

All this time, you nurtured and fed him, telling him stories and legends of your people and only leaving him once you needed to fetch some food for yourself.

Seeing him being able to walk again was the happiest moment of your life.

When he drinks your blood, it's him sitting on your lap.

"You are a messy eater, you know that?" you ask, seeing him covered in your blood.

"You are a terribly messy eater, I hope you know that?" he comments, looking at you eating a boar's leg.

He laughs at you being not so discreet in the wilderness and attracting all sorts of enemies in your journey.

"Darling, you are loud like an ork and have the manners of a giant!"

Once you got so drunk in a feast after killing a dragon, you came to Astarion and started talking different sweet nonsense.

"I want to have silver-curled babies with you. Imagine how fierce they will be!"

Indeed, you are strong and fierce, wearing the heavy armor set, but you are still a woman, a woman Astarion loves and takes care of.

"Wear a helmet, Tav! Last time we had a quest, our half-ork companion used your head as a battering ram! Get the fucking helmet!"

Once, the enemy was too strong, and you ended up severely wounded. The most challenging thing for Astarion was to get rid of the heavy armor on your broken body to carry you to a safe place.

The view of you in pain and agony traumatized him so much he didn't dare to leave your side until you fully recovered.

You want to die in a glorious battle and bards to make songs about you.

Astarion promises you not to step into the sun once you die this glorious death but to make sure every bard and storyteller knows about your deeds and adventures.

But until then...

You have plenty of things to kill!

Hope you enjoyed it!

[norringtondeservestheworld]

Do you remember when Game of Thrones blessed us with Nikolaj Coster Waldau and Gwendoline Christie' stunning asses?

and the fact that when one of them is naked the other one it's always in the same shot and Jaime being able to having a fucking boner by watching Brienne being naked despite losing a hand recently he was close to death but he is still able to having his dick hard for Brienne the amount of essays I could write about them being soulmates by this scene alone but sure they are just good friends look how friendly Jaime is looking at Brienne--

[bibiundtinaundzombies]

jaime lannister enjoyers are fascinating creatures to me because there is exactly four types of them with no overlaps between them. i‘ve never seen a jaime stan who wasn’t invested in him in more than one of these four very specific ways. every jaime enjoyer is either a jaime azor ahai and valonquar truther who thinks that he is grrm‘s magnum opus, a middle aged white woman who just thinks nikolaj coster waldau is hot, a self diagnosed sigma who wildly misinterprets him as a character and views jaime lannister as the very picture of desirable masculinity, or an insane teenage girl who writes the best and deepest analysis of him you’ve ever seen but also regularly refers to jaime as a poor little meow meow and as so deeply pathetic it makes him fuckable again.

[betelgrouse]

Your Jaime Lannister smut is pure perfection. Please write more like this. Preferably with him dominant (but the reader is as sarcastic as him), but anything else will do too. Seriously, good smutty writing.

Oh my gosh, this is the kindest comment, I can't tell you how much it means!!! You seriously just made my whole week, thank you. <3

Here's a soft and smutty little piece written especially for you with a romantic dom jaime :) I have a few other drafts in the works, so stay tuned ;)

Morning Air (Jaime Lannister x reader)

Rating: Explicit

Words: 1k

Summary: A glimpse into a soft (but smutty) morning with your husband, the Lord of Casterly Rock.

(Soft dom!jaime and soft sub!reader; oneshot; tried to make the reader gender neutral, but feedback much appreciated!)

Warnings: language, unprotected penetrative sex, romance (read at your own emotional risk!), nikolaj coster-waldau's problematically good looks

Note: two handed jaime (but he's perfect with any number of hands!)

The sun was streaming through the open balcony doors, and a cool ocean breeze gently lifted the long, translucent curtains as it entered the room, carrying the scent of saltwater and sunshine with it. You could hear ocean waves rhythmically splashing on the rocks below as you woke, a sound just slightly slower paced than your husband's breathing next to you. The view from Casterly Rock was lovely in the morning, but you'd rather look at the man sleeping next to you. The Seven must have sculpted him with their own hands, you thought. Closed eyes beneath a crown of golden hair, and a strong, lean body beneath the sand-coloured bedsheets. Your eyes roamed down to his chest and arms, marked with the occasional faded scar; no one had landed a blow on the Kingslayer in a long time, thank the Gods.

His body shifted, and you looked back up to meet Jaime's warm gaze. He reached out, gently cupping your face, and kissed you slowly. He pulled back, hovering over you, blonde hair just brushing your forehead.

"You looked like you wanted something from me," Jaime murmured, tracing your lips with his thumb. Still holding your face, Jaime ran his other hand up your leg, drawing circles on your inner thigh. "Tell me what you want, love."

You smiled up at him softly. "I want you to be on time for your morning briefings with your council. For once this week," you teased.

"If you don't want me to fuck you in the morning," Jaime whispered against your lips, "you shouldn't wake up looking so lovely." His fingers slid higher, and he started rubbing small circles on your clitoris [or tip]. You felt your legs start to spread open.

You reached down to reciprocate, but he lifted his hand from your face and stopped you. He lifted your hand to his lips before pinning it to the bed, all while drawing those circles that were already starting to make you come undone.

"Besides, I don't think you really want me to leave so soon, do you?" Jaime mused, smirking at the face you make as he slips a finger inside you, adding to the rhythm. "Do I really leave you so unsatisfied?"

You both knew the answer to his question, but he just loved to tease you. He added another finger, pumping in and out of you a bit harder now. You started moving your hips with the rhythm involuntarily. Gods, it felt good. He always felt so good.

He planted a kiss beside your ear. "Well?" he inquired, increasing his pace.

"Well what?" you asked back, somewhat more breathlessly than you had intended.

"Do you want me to stop?" His eyes glittered mischievously.

"No," you gasped out. His fingers were good, but you wanted him inside you. He really was going to make you beg him for it, wasn't he?

"What do you want, my darling?" He's so cocky, you thought. Well, when he looks like that, I guess he can be.

"I want you to..." You still blushed saying such vulgar words, which is exactly why Jaime loved to get you to say them. "I want you to fuck me."

Jaime grinned. "What was that, love? I didn't hear you."

Oh, his arrogant, annoying, perfect face, you thought. "I want you to fuck me, Jaime, and I want you to fuck me right now."

"If you insist." He grinned even wider, evidently quite pleased with himself. Holding your thigh, he sank himself into you, groaning deliciously in your ear. He rocked in and out of you, hitting that spot inside you over and over again. The fucking felt amazing, of course, but you also loved how his chest moved against yours like the tide meeting the beach, and how you saw that same pleasure you were feeling echoed back at you in Jaime's eyes with every thrust.

You two were tangled up together, legs crossed, faces touching. He gently tugged your hair, tilting your head back so he could plant sloppy, open-mouthed kisses along your neck. You met his lips and savoured the taste of him, his warmth, his softness.

You felt your climax coming and let it crash through you in waves, like the ocean below. Jaime felt your muscles tighten and he fucked you through your orgasm before his own climax hit him. He came deep inside you, his body weight pressing down on you and his breathing ragged in your ear. You took a deep breath, taking in the fresh ocean air and the smell of him, and thought there really couldn't be anything better.

After a moment, Jaime sat up and poured a cup of water, offering it to you before pouring one for himself. You expected him to rise and get dressed for the day, but he just sipped his water and looked at you with an enigmatic expression, as if deciding something.

"What is it?" You raise your eyebrows at him and smile. You can't help but smile when you look at him.

Jaime silently returns both cups to the table beside him before rolling back on top of you, head buried in the crook of your neck. You laugh and slide your hand into his hair, gently playing with it. His hair gleams like real gold in the sunlight, you muse.

"You're going to miss your briefings again," you press, but you're holding him and you don't want to let him go.

"Shhhh," he responds, nuzzling closer into you.

You match your breathing with his, and your chests rise and fall together, like the rhythm of the sea below.

[bookyeom]

700 followers!!! Wow. Thank you so much to everyone who’s followed me so far, and anyone who has reblogged my work. It’s so appreciated!

I am super busy with life right now, but I wanted to try and do a little event to celebrate by opening my requests and having a little request/drabble event! I can’t guarantee I’ll get to everyone’s requests, but I’ll try :)

(Also yes I know I still have to finish Thirteen Valentines, but they’re coming!!)

Reblog this post to help spread the word!

The rules are:

Send me an ask with a member + one or two of the prompts from any of the lists below the cut!

You can request more than one member or prompt, but please send them in separate asks

Reminder that I don’t write smut

That’s it!

prompt list one / prompt list two / prompt list three / prompt list four / prompt list five / prompt list six / prompt list seven

A/N: tagging some loves, if you could share 🩷 @tae-bebe @wheeboo @eoieopda @wqnwoos @waldau @minisugakoobies @gyuminusone

[theaudientvoid]

So, like, in general, the cast of Game of Thrones did not read the books. When asked, they usually said something about the show being its own thing, and wanting the keep things separate and all that. The main exception to this was Nikolaj Coster-Waldau, who was vocal about having read the books, and how knowing where the character was headed allowed him to enhance his performance.

It probably should come as any surprise that Coster-Waldau is also the most vocally critical of the way the later seasons were written. At this point, if nothing else, everyone in the cast has to at least be aware that Season 8 was not well received, but mostly they don't talk about. Coster-Waldau, as far as I know, is the only member of the main cast to openly criticize the show writers. And not just for departing from the books, but for poor writing in general.

There's an anecdote that he tells about going to David Benioff and saying that the way Jaime was being written made no sense, and that he didn't know how he should play the character, and being told "just read the lines", and this, I think is telling. Coster-Waldau was still trying to play a character, while at this point Benioff and co. were more interested in having puppets that the could pander for award bait to boost their own egos.

[westeroswisdom]

Nikolaj Coster-Waldau has eight seasons of faux Medieval cred thanks to his character Jaime Lannister on Game of Thrones. In an upcoming production by the BBC and CBS Studios he gets to recreate some actual 11th century history in the series King and Conqueror.

Nikolaj's character never got to rule the Seven Kingdoms. But in King and Conqueror he portrays William the Conqueror who became King of England and ultimately the founder of the royal line which still reigns in London.

George R.R. Martin was heavily influenced by English, French, and Scottish history in ASoIaF. GRRM may have had William the Conqueror in mind when writing about Aegon I Targaryen.

In 1066, the English King Edward the Confessor died without an heir. As if dying without a direct descendant to claim the throne wasn't one of the most chaotic things a king could do, Edward took it a step further: He allegedly promised the throne to both his brother-in-law, Harold Godwinson, and to a distant relative, William of Normandy. Harold and William weren't the only ones with a claim, either. While the pope endorsed William's claim, the resulting war of succession would force Harold to fight Harald Hardrada, the king of Norway, who also claimed the thrones of Denmark and England and invaded the latter alongside Harold's brother, Tostig. Anglo-Saxon King Harold would have to defeat Harald before meeting William and his Norman invasion at the Battle of Hastings, all in the same year. If that sounds to you like a lot of drama that could easily be its own television series, you aren't alone. CBS Studios and the BBC are teaming to produce "King and Conqueror," a show about this most pivotal event in English history. James Norton ("Happy Valley") and Nikolaj Coster-Waldau ("Game of Thrones") are attached to be the titular King Harold and William the Conqueror, respectively. [ ... ] Historians might disagree on whose side of the story is more accurate, but screenwriters and producers agree that no matter what happened, the 1,000-year-old story will make for great television. Michael Robert Johnson ("Sherlock Holmes") will pen the series while Baltasar Kormákur ("2 Guns") will direct. "King and Conqueror" begins production in 2024.

There's actually a physical artistic link between the account of William's conquest in the 1060s and Game of Thrones.

After William's victory, his half-brother Bishop Odo was apparently the commissioner of a tapestry embroidered with scenes which tell the epic story of William's conquest. The cloth, now known as the Bayeaux Tapestry is an amazing 70 meters long. It can be viewed here.

So volunteers at the Ulster Museum in Northern Ireland where GoT was produced created a tapestry in the style of the Bayeaux Tapestry which tells the story of all eight seasons of GoT. See our 2019 post about it.

[waldau]

giving them the silent treatment when they forget something — seventeen | 2,661 words | hurt/comfort, fluff

first work in this format! comments would be really appreciated :D

gender neutral reader. warnings: none.

seungcheol

cannot stand your silence. he'd rather you scold him, or say anything to him, but he absolutely hates the silence that fills your house when he stops talking. he's thankful you're sitting across him while he's having dinner, but keeps interrupting his eating by asking for your forgiveness over and over. how could he forget your date night tonight? knows you need your personal space and makes you sit at the table while he does the dishes, but he gives in at the end of the day because what's the point of sleeping in the same bed if he can't wrap his arms around you? keeps whispering apologies into your hair and promises not to be this forgetful again. literally lights up when you turn around with a grumble and slot yourself into his arms. is okay with you being upset with him as long as you let him hold you.

jeonghan

thinks it's payback for the time he hid the last of your snacks a week ago. is fine with you rolling your eyes at him when he calls you by your nickname. realizes it's serious when you share your dessert with him, because you never do it without a little playful fight. realizes he's messed up big time when you don't retort back to his teasing about how your hair looks right now, after you've spent some time rolling around in bed. the final straw is when you wish him goodnight without even calling him any form of endearment. suddenly understands why you're being like this — it's because he left for practice without waking you up this morning, even though you asked him to. peppers you with kisses and it's only a matter of time before you stop resisting. tries explaining that your health and your sleep are more important to him than his own, but he's thankful you wake up with him the next morning and prepare breakfast for him while he gets ready.

joshua

is a gentleman. 99.99% of the time. but the 0.01% he's not is today, when he forgot to buy a bouquet of flowers you wanted to take while visiting your mother. he'd assured you he'd do the task because the flower shop lay right in the path he took while jogging, and now you've returned home with no smile on your face. there's a thousand apologies at the tip of his tongue, but none of them are going to be enough. you wish him a good night, but he knows he's messed up pretty bad. hates it when you don't even say anything about it, because he knows it's affected you more than you're letting it show. gets a call from you the next afternoon asking him why there's a bouquet of flowers on your desk and why your mother also had one delivered to her doorstep. picks you up from work and surprises you with a single rose that he tucks behind your ear, brushing away your concerns about it looking silly. loves you, and he'll get you flowers every day if it makes you smile the way you're doing right now.

junhui

is not used to one word answers from you. he watches you a bit closely as you take off your shoes, wash your hands, get a glass from the cupboard and pour yourself some water. feels like you're giving the glass more attention than him. starts feeling nervous. around you. hates it more than anything. but he doesn't know what's wrong, so he ends up doing something that flusters you both — he cages you in his arms, because he'd much rather you tell him off than push him away silently. you try to wriggle out of his grasp, but he pulls out his c-drama moves of seduction and slams his hand against the wall behind your head. you just stare at him before you shake your head and tell him he didn't kiss you goodbye this morning. he feels absolutely shocked. he did! or at least he thought he did. you're always on his mind, regardless of the time of the day. kisses you five times to make up for the one he didn't give you. sticks close to you for the rest of the night, as it's his rightful place.

soonyoung

is oblivious at first. he's the more talkative one between you both, so he doesn't find anything wrong when you come back home, or don't give him the usual kiss you do when you come back home — you're probably just too tired! guides you to the dining table and makes sure you're eating well. talks about practice, talks about this photoshoot that's coming up, talks about this interview he'd given earlier in the day, around afternoon, which made him super hungry because— well, shit. he was supposed to bring your lunch to work because you'd forgotten to take it yourself, and you'd even texted him about it. he promised he would, and now he's left wondering what you had to get for yourself because of his forgetfulness. throws himself to his knees in front of you and grabs your thighs, shaking you like it's going to transfer the sorrow he's feeling into you so that you can forgive him. loves that you crack a smile before you hide it and continue having dinner. promises to wake up early next morning so he can be the one to make you lunch and pack it. loves the sight of the empty box he sees when he calls you during your break.

wonwoo

feels like absolute crap when you get home and all he has to show you for his time spent is the game he's finished and a regrettable lack of food on the table. he'd promised to cook for you, this recipe he'd taken from mingyu just so he could try it himself. he'd even laughed at your surprised face in the morning, but now he thinks you were right to have doubted him. it's not even time for your usual grocery run yet; you're pretty much out of groceries because his friends had come home a couple days back and you'd spent time making a lot of dishes. sits you down and makes you eat a banana as a peace offering, all the while ordering takeout from the closest eatery to your house. sits with you and feeds you bites of your meal, not touching his own till you're done. still feels terrible when he sees you putting away the leftovers, because you're not supposed to be doing that in the first place. comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, murmuring apologies in your ear and asking if you want him to get you anything else. wakes you up to breakfast in bed the next morning. you laugh and tell him you're not willing to have breakfast without brushing your teeth, so he picks you up and carries you to the bathroom. he thinks he should make time on his days off for breakfast in bed if it means you'll cling to him the way you're doing now, adoration in your eyes.

jihoon

is just in his chill™ mode half the time he's home. when he's not working, he's either listening to music or watching your favourite shows together to maximize the time he has with you. for jihoon, and you, actions are more prevalent than words. so it's with a sudden drop of his stomach that he realizes he was supposed to wait for you, till you came back home, to start watching this new anime you'd been keen on seeing. he can't exactly undo the past three episodes from his memory, so he's also silent like you are when you get back home and see what he's been up to. dinner is had in an awkward silence till you push your chair back and take the plate to the sink, letting jihoon know you're turning in for an early night. he knows he's fucked up. he's glad you're not kicking him out on the couch to sleep, and he apologizes by softly humming a song he's been working on for you, in the silence of your bedroom. it's like he's wearing his heart on his sleeve, too easy for anyone to see, but it's worth it when you sigh and pull him down for a kiss, telling him it sounds wonderful and that you can't wait to hear the full thing.

minghao

is disappointed with himself already, and you being disappointed makes it worse. he could blame jet lag for being the reason why he forgot to show up at the cafe to meet your friend you've been him to get to know for a while, but he knows it's a flimsy excuse. you cover up for him with the excuse of a fever, even though he's far from feeling down. doesn't know what he can say to make it better, so he peels an orange for you. only to have his heart hurt when you say you're not hungry. but you end up taking a few slices anyway, because you don't want it to go to waste. tries to pull you into himself but hates it when you don't reciprocate. he knows this friend is important to you, but are they so important that you have to ignore him for the rest of the night? offers to sleep on the couch, and is surprised to find that's what breaks your silence and makes you glare at him. promises to fly you out soon to meet your friend where they live as an apology. wakes up to you combing your fingers through his hair.

mingyu

puppy #1. knows he's done something wrong the moment you step inside the hallway of your house, even if you've said nothing — mainly because you're not rushing to him the way you always do, and you're not excited to see him, the way he is to see you. takes all the stuff from your hands and makes you sit on the couch and offers you a massage and pouts when you decline him gently. tries making conversation with you during dinner, but gets discouraged when you reply in short sentences. you're not...angry, but you're upset, and it's bugging him terribly. offers to help you with your nighttime routine, sitting on the counter and watching you go about it, until you sigh and tell him exactly what he forgot about. your plants in the balcony that he promised to water this morning and forgot about because he had to rush for an early practice. he throws himself to the floor on his knees, hands clasped, and promises never to forget it again. feels relieved when you laugh through a mouth full of toothpaste, pulling him to his feet and ruffling his hair. his alarm now has a label that reads: "plants :)"

seokmin

puppy #2. can feel his smile drop the second you walk through the door of your shared house drenched in water like you fell into a puddle and climbed out. and the worst part is you're not even asking him to help you dry up. he tries to offer you towels and fusses about your hair and you catching a cold but ends up sitting against the door of your shared bedroom when you gently push him out of your way and opt for a nice, warm shower. he's glad he ordered takeout so that you wouldn't have to cook, but he's not happy with the way you're ignoring him. no, you're not ignoring him. you're...disappointed, almost. somehow it's worse than having you be angry with him, because he knows fights can be resolved sooner or later. but you being disappointed in him? makes him feel like the worst person in the world. heats up your blanket in the dryer and gives you his hoodie to sleep in. he's never going to take your umbrella to practice again. drags you out to shop for two distinct umbrellas so he never forgets to send you off with one again.

seungkwan

he's busy. it's not an excuse; it's just how his daily schedule is. yet it sounds like nothing but a pathetic excuse when you get back home, avoiding even looking at him. you look amazing, and he wasted his entire afternoon wondering when you were going to call him, when you were out watching a movie he'd suggested the two of you watch together. hates it when you tell him you've had enough popcorn to make you skip dinner. hates it when you don't even hug him, much less kiss him. hates it when you have a polite conversation with him about the movie, as if you were just his friend telling him you liked his recommendation. you sit with him and watch a volleyball match he'd pre-recorded, but his mind is not interested in the commentary at all. pouts. straight up asks you how long you're going to ignore him. you say you're not, that you just need some time now to get over it. he nods like he understands but wraps himself around you barely twenty minutes later when you're getting ready for bed. will not sleep without coming to any kind of resolution. asks you to spoil the movie for him as a punishment and gets a pinch to his cheek in return. promises never to forget a date again.

hansol

is also oblivious. takes your silence as a sign that you're just tired, so he makes sure you freshen up and don't do any work for a while and have some water or light snacks instead. it's only when he puts on a movie you've both watched many times he realizes you're not talking to him, because you don't lean into him the way you usually do. he takes the initiative this time and tries pulling you on his lap, but you resist. he feels uncomfortable, and it's new. he tries focusing on the movie but his mind is on you, and it's only because of the sheer number of times he's seen the movie that he can remember the dialogues without paying attention. it's only when the main characters get into a car and start driving that he realizes he'd promised to pick you up from your friend's party. immediately switches off the movie because he knows you're not paying attention either, and kneels in front of you and looks into your eyes till you blush and look away. brings your head back in place with his fingers on your chin and asks you to remind him when he forgets so that he doesn't have a chance to let you down again. holds your hand through the night when you sleep. clings to you a bit more whenever you're home.

chan

devastated. at himself, at you for not reminding him that he'd forgotten to pick up your outfit from the dry cleaner's last night, at the fact that you're not even scolding him. hates that you won't even look at him except to give him some space to move around in the kitchen. having twelve older brothers, he's used to being kept in shape by them and remembering a lot of things about all of them, so why couldn't he remember this small thing you'd asked him to do? compliments you on how good you look, and is physically hurt when you just nod at him with a small thanks. asks if there's anything he can help you with. hates that you shake your head and say you're just going to read a book. tries making you laugh but ends up embarrassing himself when he trips on the bathroom mat and ends up diving into the bathroom face first. it's not funny, but it gets a smile out of you, and he thinks he's on the path to getting your forgiveness. won't go to sleep till you run your fingers through his hair, holding him close to you.

taglist: @bookyeom @wootify @strnsvt @cloudycaramel @thepoopdokyeomtouched @minnieminshi @nonononranghaee

[plasticfangtastic]

Carnivorous lamb ch 1

A Homelander x Male! oc fic

A/N: this is a prequel to a fic writen for @digitalbath2008 and my kinktober prompt, hope you like it- thx 4 giving me the inspo :) I could not control myself, i had to write the prequel/sequel to them ‘cuz I love writing this OC and he plays a minor role in my WIP so I don’t get to play with him often, his faceclaim its Nicolaj Coster-Waldau if that helps

Sypnopsis: A young Homelander finds absolution from all that would make him rotten.

tags: R18, NTR-ish, dubcon, age gap (Homelander is in his mid 20’s, OC’s in his 40s) older man, DILF, priest kink, moral degradation, slow burn.

Chapter One

Spring

The soft spring sun settled into the horizon covering it all in its runny yolk, the cool breeze made Father Amarello shiver slightly, tightening his cardigan as he ventured the gardens.

Expecting to find a curious hare munching on his tomatoes instead a much more curious sight caught his sight. Sitting in the rusted metal bench was a young man wearing the most peculiar gear. He had seen these costumed figures on the telly, and on his favorite brand of cereal, never had he ever seen one in person, they were for big city folks, they didn’t seem to ever grace middle of nowhere small towns much less the kind of town that was only known for its clean restrooms at a busy rest stop, most never noticed the small town even when they drove past it… so why was this Superhero in his gardens eyeing that curious hare as it munched on some parsnip leafs.

He raised his sight towards the older man who immediately put on a friendly smile.

“Afternoon.”

Nervously walking towards him, he rips a couple tomatoes fresh off the vine on his way towards him, he observes the blond man closely, to him he looks so young he might pass for a boy but he looks as if something had aged him, he chucked it to the pressure of the job, the closer he got the more he noticed the blue of his eyes almost as blue as his suit– he had seen this man before, it took him a minute to remember the name from the newspaper.

“You… You’re The Homelander, no?” He looks around– Is there anything I should be worried about?” 

His tone it's surprisingly calm as he approaches the young hero.

“Is there some trouble, perhaps?”

Homelander only shakes his head.

“Didn’t mean to frighten you– I was flying over and it seemed like a nice place to rest…” He stood up looking slightly embarrassed– didn’t mean to be a bother, sir.”

“That’s a relief… admittedly I was looking forward to seeing some action” he chuckled dryly– is alright, my son. Rest all you like I imagine flying can be quite exhausting.”

He looked at the older man catching a glimpse at his handsome face as the man smiled kindly, and the intense pale green of his eyes.

“Is not… flying… not for me anyways.” he spoke awkwardly observing the man as he filled up his arms with salad ingredients– hmm… your sermon… it… it was nice.”

Homelander expected to be received with the same fanaticism and awe as he had with so many others but this strange man seemed little impressed, opting not to leave to satiate his newly formed curiosity over the man.

“Thank you. Were you listening the whole time?”

He nodded, he had listened most of the service, he had flown over many churches listened to many services from afar, as part of his branding they wanted to foster this good christian boy image but he found them boring, the way they talked, the way they all clamor and lost their minds as the preachers got louder, the music always excessive but this had been simple, the passion behind it earnest... but what he had liked was in his voice… it was light, pleasant… like listening to flowers, he thought.

“Yes…”

“You should’ve come inside… No matter the creed all are welcome in this parish.”

“I’m an evangelical.”

“It’s never too late to seek the light.” He gives him a sordid smile– well enjoy the gardens, feel free to take some peaches or blackberries or anything… will not recommend the brussel sprouts… is for the rabbits.”

It had been odd to be ignored, the man retreated inside after a quick wave, he watched him as he wandered into the small house attached to the church, nothing more than a cabin– all contained into one single room with a bathroom awkwardly installed on the side, he considered taking something but he left soon after.

He would come back a few days later still thinking of the lack of reception he had gotten out of the priest, the man stared at him just as friendly as before, throwing the gardening gloves aside as he saw the young supe descend– he had to admit that was quite the sight.

“They do say I got the best peaches in town.”

Homelander almost fumbled his landing at that moment, the priest seemed to have not noticed as he leaned on his rake.

“You don’t seem impressed?”

“About what exactly?”

“Me.”

“Oh it’s quite fascinating that you can fly and I can’t but I've seen my fair share of miracles.” Homelander can’t help but to think his smile is smug even if it doesn’t look like anything– So how can I be of service?”

“I… I… wanted…”

“To join?” He looked up at the man wearing his dark gray clerical shirt and sullied jeans, he took a weird step forward towards Homelander– as I said all are welcomed– even Supes. Altho it’s a few days away from Sunday.”

“I wanted guidance, actually. I’ve been having a crisis… but I don’t… I don’t think the people at Cape’s for Christ or Samaritan’s embrace can help me…I… I don’t know where else to go.”

“I can’t blame you. The message is good but the deliverance leaves… a lot to wish for…” He cleans his hand on the back of his jeans before offering it to Homelander– Amarello. Father Dennis Amarello– and you?”

Homelander raised an eyebrow, vividly remembering being recognized on their last encounter.

“It’s Homelander your government name?”

“John…” he said nervously-- John Gillman."

Homelander instinctively took his hand catching the sudden grimace on the man’s face when he received a gloved response, he followed him inside to find a quaint and claustrophobic parish, it was nothing but two wide rows, a sweet balsamic perfume permeated in the air, just as woodsy as the old worn down pews.

“You don’t like ‘Capes for Christ’?” 

“I believe Supes are a gift from God. His way to protect us… I just don’t like how commercial it is… I generally don’t think any preacher, pastor or priest no matter the creed should live anything but humbly– which extends to his parish. Massive concert stages don’t fit my standards.”

“That’s a lot to say to a stranger.” He swallowed, feeling offended.

Father Amarello sat down on the front pews, urging the young man to take a seat.

“I only answer things honestly.”

“Rudely.”

“You got blood on your glove.” He lifted his hand to show the specks of dried blood at the bottom of his palm heel– please sit.”

Homelander flustered slightly, staring at his hand where he had missed it, his expression melted into something awry, his chest sinking as he stood there staring at the man who seemed completely unbothered.

“When I was a boy… my father murdered my mother… he shot me… and then… god send me one of his soldiers... a supe… her name was Agent Rogue… She killed my father and took me to a hospital– Blood doesn’t bother me at all. I understand that this must’ve come from your job.”

Homelander had nothing to say, before he knew it he sat beside him with his eyes firmly on the floor, he had a hard time believing the man could speak so softly, as he recounted something so horrific.

“I knew I wanted to do good after being rescued, but I had no powers or smarts… until I felt God calling for me. I realized that I could still help people just like that woman did for me, if I followed God and helped spread his message– people’s lives could also be rescued too by his grace. Our father just forgot to tell me to fix my personality.” His chuckle was short.

Homelander smiled slightly unsure of how to feel.

“So… tell me, son, how can I help you?"

His mouth opened on its own, his sight fixated on those pale green eyes.

“I… I don’t know… I think I’m bad at my job… I keep failing and no matter what I do… they praise me but I don’t think they mean it… as if they’re afraid of telling me that I'm doing wrong. I want to save people. I’m a hero. I just keep messing up” His voice cracks– nobody wants to help me.. they just expect me to know… but I keep asking… and I listen but… I still mess up… I thought God could help me… I don’t want to mess up anymore… I don’t want to cause Madelyn any more headaches.”

Father Amarello sat silently for a few seconds smacking his lips pensively as he stared at the stained window and the portraits of saint’s it held.

“You have more casualties than you wish for?”

“I should be catching the bad guys alive too… I just… humans are so frail.”

“You shouldn’t feel bad about killing those who decide to harm others… but it will pollute your soul… is a heavy burden you’ll carry for the rest of your life… All you can do is keep God in your heart and seek to right your wrongs… God blessed you with these powers, and you can use them for good” He turns to him, placing a firm hand on his shoulder– your burdens are far greater than those of most men… so perhaps you only fixate on your failures, because you believe you shouldn’t be able to make them? Do you feel guilty? If so… good… feel guilty… feel like you are a monster… hate yourself and self-destruct but then look up and ask God what to do to atone.”

Homelander felt as if somebody finally told him something genuine.

“I don’t think that's good advice…” he says nervously– What if he doesn’t say anything.”

“He doesn’t actually talk back y’know… not with words… signs…” He looked around and took one of the old bibles from the bench– You can learn a lot from this… and you can learn a lot from talking to him but you will only really hear him… when you’re open to him, John.” 

He handed him the book.

“Maybe… next time when you save a life, think of that instead of the person who died… the good or the bad ones who died… just that one more person it's alive, and they get to see tomorrow… if that helps a little bit to ease your anxieties… then you can pray later.”

Homelander can help but chuckle as he hears the man speak.

“Shouldn’t I be begging for forgiveness?”

“When you die… God will let you know if it worked. You can do everything you can in your power to do good and you should– but ultimately it's out of your hands… I like to think that I’ve done okay… not enough to be condemned to hell… just enough to get a sneak peak of heaven.” He smiled awkwardly scratching his wrist for a second too long– Oh you should definitely do good tho, my son. Like I'm not telling you to start going on remorseless murder sprees like your name is Pol Pot! Just… be aware that we’ll never know if we did enough until it's time. So we just gotta keep trying and not because you want Heaven but ‘cuz it's the right thing to do anyways.”

He leaned back feeling slightly flustered, briefly ogling the young man as he leaned away from him getting lost in his own thoughts, catching a sudden crease on his cheek as he smiled softly, this had been the first time he had ever been so close to one of them, he thought. He expected them to look a lot less human, always so grand and incredible on the pages and the screen, he had grown up with the likes of Payback and other great supes during the ‘Golden Age’ of American heroes– so they never looked like people ‘til now.

The boy was a beautiful thing… so pretty like a girl, he mused the thought. His eyes fixated on the shorn undercut and his tousled blond hair so much brighter than his pale beige locks, at the way his shoulders fit the suit, he licked his lip as a knot buried itself on his throat.

“I must not be very convincing.” 

“Is good. Nobody has ever spoken to me like that… thank you.” he stood up after a long pause, turning to face the priest once more– You… You have a raccoon inside your confession box by the way”

“Its quite cute... I just don’t want to wake it up… or get rabies.”

Homelander almost offered to take the animal out, but the priest seemed to not care one bit.

He left feeling lighter than before, thinking that perhaps he was too rough on himself, that those around him weren’t being deceitful… he was a hero, he had these powers to do good and even if a dozen died, Father Amarello was right– one life was better than none. 

But it wasn’t easy.

With every added corpse on his back he found himself surrounded by spiritually rotten folks, nobody would aid him, nobody would advise him much less console him, just brush it off, just tell him everything was taken care of – each drop of blood had to be out of his conscience… even the voice in his head would tell him the same– that he had done nothing wrong… that at least one person lived.

He had done the right thing.

Right?

He had, no?

The sight burned into his cornea, those bloodied finger stumps reaching after him, the smell of burnt meat and gas, caught in his nose.

[brokehorrorfan]

God Is a Bullet will be released on Blu-ray and DVD on September 5 via Decal Releasing and XYZ Films. The 2023 action thriller is currently available on Digital.

Nick Cassavetes (The Notebook, Alpha Dog) writes and directs, based on Boston Teran's 1999 novel. Nikolaj Coster-Waldau, Maika Monroe, and Jamie Foxx star with January Jones, Ethan Suplee, Jonathan Tucker, Karl Glusman, David Thornton, and Paul Johansson.

Special features are listed below, where you can also watch the trailer.

Special features:

Behind the Scenes of God is a Bullet

When detective Bob Hightower finds his ex-wife murdered and daughter kidnapped by a satanic cult, he quits the police force, gets tattoos, and infiltrates the cult to hunt down the charismatic cult leader, Cyrus, with the help of the cult's only female escapee, Case Hardin. Bob is led down the rabbit hole to save his daughter while Case seizes the opportunity to claim back her power.

Pre-order God Is a Bullet.

[the-desilittle-bird]

Author's Note- My first one shot related to a song. Though it's a Hindi song, I loved writing for it. Hope you all like it.

Thank you and Enjoy your reading!

Broken yet Beautiful Doll

Tom Hiddleston x Desi!Reader

Summary- (Y/N)'s moments spend with her knight in shining armor in the light of moon...

Tag List- @shopping, @bbgmonsay, @lastwandastan, @eudximoniakr, @saraelizabeth26, @girlnred, @hc-geralt-23, @omgsuperstarg, @strangesthirdeye, @clea-strange-is-the-way, @lana, @kenzi-woycehoski, @nyx2021, @all-things-fandomstuck, @newt-scamander-is-hot-af, @moon-light1415, @candypurplebutterfly

Warnings- A bit steamy. Nothing else though

GIF Credits to @your-eyes-were-full-of-regret

To be an actress in an industry such as Hollywood was a difficult job from the very start and having a conservative parents only added to the difficulty levels. And the addition of media and paparazzi in this deal is just... tiring.

God blessed (Y/N) with Tom to keep her sanity safe from all the insane things in her life. He was the moon to her dark night sky; the sun to her clear blue skies. Her knight in shining armor.

With (Y/N) wrapping up Game of Thrones, the media was going absolutely crazy. Adding to that was HBO's official post announcing the much awaited nude scene featuring the actress with her on-screen love interest, Nikolaj Coster-Waldau.

The announcement of her nude scene had not only created chaos in the media, but also in (Y/N)'s family. Her mother had given her an almost threatening lecture, while her father talked of how it would effect (Y/N)'s chances of finding a perfect husband; only that they weren't aware of Tom's presence in her life.

The famous actress sat down on the sofa with a sigh, her eyes locked on the screen of her mobile. Tears welling up in her (E/C) eyes as she recalled her mother's words and her father's disapproving tone.

"Is everything alright, (Y/N)?" The soothing voice of Tom vibrated in her ears as his smell intoxicated her senses, his hands wrapping around her waist. "Usual melodrama of maa," she sighed, snuggling into his chest.

"She only cares about you, darling," Tom said, his fingers running through her (H/C) hair, making her purr like their black cat, whom (Y/N) named Loki. "Threatening me with 'Tum ghar aana phir dikhati hu' is so much lovely," (You come home, then I will show you) (Y/N) said sarcastically.

Tom chuckled lightly, kissing her hairline. "It's almost midnight," he stated casually, making (Y/N) hum.

Bikharney Ka Mujhko

Shauq Hai Bada

Sameitega Mujko

Tu Bata Zara

Tom looked down at the lady in his arms. The (H/C) hair of his beloved shone in the moonlight, glistening as if a gemstone. Her eyes closed, while a bit of kohl beneath her eyes laid smudged from rubbing her eyes constantly. In short, (Y/N) looked a mess instead of the gorgeous lady in front of the red carpets.

"You look a mess. Or may I dare say, like a broken yet beautiful doll," Tom noted with a teasing smile. (Y/N) laughed, sitting in between his legs. "I love to look like a mess, or as you beautifully placed it, 'a broken yet beautiful doll'. The question is: will you be there to collect me?"

Tom smiled, glancing at the ceiling-to-floor window. "Of course, darling," Tom smiled, making the young actress smile widely. "

Dekh Ke Tujhey Hi Raat Ki Hawa Ne

Saans Thaam Li Hai Haath Ke Tarah Haaye

Ki Aankhon Mein Teri Raat Ki Nadi

Tom picked (Y/N) up in bridal style, taking her out to the huge balcony attached to their shared bedroom. The soft breeze caressed their skins, bringing a unique warmth to them.

Tom's breath hitched silently as he looked upon the lady beside him. All soft and vulnerable before his ocean eyes. London's lights illuminating the perfections and imperfections on her face.

Tom could see the sight of entire London in her (E/C) eyes. Lights dancing in her eyes like ballerinas performing a ballet. The sweet dance with precise timings and smooth dance moves.

Ho Kho Rahe Hain Dono Ek Doosre Mein

Jaise Sardiyon Ki Sham Mein Dhuan

(Y/N) and Tom's eyes met at the same moment. The entire world drifting away, leaving the couple along with the beauty of the entire world. The night breeze singing songs of love as the two stepped closer.

"What else did they say?" Tom whispered, his lips too close to hers. "Papa said that I won't find any good husband," she whispered back, gazing deeply into his blue, deep eyes. Tom smirked, his hands strongly holding her waist.

"Perhaps, I should meet him." They were too close to deem appropriate, almost taking in the same air. Their lips met in a combination of passion and lust. Hands threading through each other's hairs, tugging on them.

Hands went through the thin, dark shirt (Y/N) wore, tracing patterns on her skin as they moved up, leaving behind goosebumps and sending pleasures right to her core.

Lips and tongues clashed in a battle of who know what. As for dominance, it seemed like (Y/N) abandoned the dominance for the night, letting Tom take control over her for tonight.

Never before had they been so close, always stopping after a kiss or two on necks and behind ears. But tonight, the passion was too much, too consuming for both to stop.

Tom pressed (Y/N) against the wall. A gasp breaking through her throat at the contact of the cold wall on her warm, too hot, skin. Tom kissed her neck, creating a purple bruise after another.

The two conjoined there as if the smoke in the winter night. Breathing together and riding the waves of pleasure with each other.

Tom pulled away to look at the masterpiece he created on the canvas his lady love's body was. Hair disheveled, lips swollen, eyes wide with darkness of pleasure clouding them; all along with the black-purple bruises littered over her neck and collarbone.

The rest of the night was spent in the warmth of embraces and waves of pleasure mixed with pain. Sweet words and comforting promises whispered into the ears. A beautiful future ensured.

Perhaps the nature always paired two different beings together. One who likes to break and the other who wishes to collect. A person who can praise and one who can receive it and stay humble.

[notinmyvocab]

All odd number questions!

Buckle up lads, it's a long one!

What font do you write in? Do you actually care or is that just the default setting? -Usually whatever the default font is, though sometimes I'll use the Comic Sans trick if I'm stuck. Sometimes i'll get fancy and use a typewriter font.

3. What is your writing ritual and why is it cursed? -the fact that I don't have one. Very cursed.

5. Do you have any writing superstitions? What are they and why are they 100% true? -that if I talk about my current work in too much detail with someone, I lose the motivation to write it because now the idea exists outside of my head. So if I'm really passionate about a piece, I won't say much about it.

7. . What is your deepest joy about writing? -putting that guy in situations. And the milfs

9. Do you believe in ghosts? This isn’t about writing I just wanna know -hell fucking yeah I do.

11. Do you believe in the old advice to “kill your darlings?” Are you a ruthless darling assassin? What happens to the darlings you murder? Do you have a darling graveyard? Do you grieve? -I don't grieve, but I am pretty ruthless.

13. What is a subject matter that is incredibly difficult for you write about? What is easy? -smut. Some people think I'm good at it and when I'm drunk, it comes easily but mostly I can't just write smut. Bloody imagery comes really easily though.

15. Do you write in the margins of your books? Dog-ear your pages? Read in the bath? Why or why not? Do you judge people who do these things? Can we still be friends? -sometimes I'll write in the margins of pages. I don't dog ear them because a lot of my books are old and doing that will rip the paper. I used to judge people who did these things but now I see it as a sign of love.

17. Talk to me about the minutiae of your current WIP. Tell me about the lore, the history, the detail, the things that won’t make it in the text. -oh god. Gonna do Woe Begets Misery (so @yourlocaldisneyvillain here's a little present!). Um, let's see... Isabel Noble lives in a haunted house in Los Angeles, though we won't be seeing it in this installment. She was adopted and her birth mother was clairvoyant. Her birth father was named Lawrence and was driven to madness both by the haunted house and Isabel's mother (girl power). She has had her heart broken a million times and will never learn from it. Her adoptive father, Derek Noble, has a face claim: Nikolaj Coster-Waldau. He was a good dad, but his death wreaks havoc on Isabel's mind.

19. Tell me a story about your writing journey. When did you start? Why did you start? Were there bumps along the way? Where are you now and where are you going? -I started writing when I was veryyyyy little. I wrote a diary when I was six but it was fictitious, so that was the start. Lot of bumps. Finally got into playwriting.

21. Could you ever quit writing? Do you ever wish you could? Why or why not? -Nope could never quit writing. My mind is too full.

23. Describe the physical environment in which you write. Be as detailed as possible. Tell me what’s around you as you work. Paint me a picture. -My thoughts are around me. I tune out everything. It's just me and a blur. And a hot drink.

25. What is a weird, hyper-specific detail you know about one of your characters that is completely irrelevant to the story? Isabel Noble had braces and wore a retainer.

27. Who is the most stressful character you’ve ever written? Why? Gregory House. He's complex and I tend to soften him more than he is.

29. Where do you draw your inspiration? What do you do when the inspiration well runs dry? Life. My own horniness.

33. Do you practice any other art besides writing? Does that art ever tie into your writing, or is it entirely separate? I do some painting, but keep it separate

31. Write a short love letter to your readers.

Dear beloveds,

You are genuinely the reason I keep going.

35. What’s your favorite writing rule to smash into smithereens? Incomplete sentences. Sometimes the cadence calls for it.

37. If you were to be remembered only by the words you’ve put on the page, what would future historians think of you? "Get this girl some therapy... I hope she found a milf to love her."

39. What keeps you writing when you feel like giving up? My ideas.

[layce2015]

My Thoughts On The Last Of Us HBO TV Show Trailer

So a couple of days ago, HBO and Naughty Dog had released a trailer for The Last Of Us, a show adaptation of the popular 2013 game of the same name.

The story of a world that is plunged into a zombie-like apocalypse 20 years after the first outbreak. One man, Joel Miller, is tasked with taking a young 14 year old girl, Ellie, to a group called the Fireflies as she is immune from the virus that would turn any human into a fungal monster. So Joel and Ellie go on a cross-country journey in America just to get her to the Fireflies so that they could make a "cure" and hopefully save the world.

Now, I love this game. It is my favorite game of all time. I love the world, the lore and the characters. Joel is my favorite character of all time. I loved the Left Behind DLC. The sequel however....

Yeah, like with Bruno, we don't talk about that game lol.

Anyway, the reason I'm writing this post is that after watching the trailer a few times and thinking it over, I have some opinions on it.

It does look good and the environments look like it was plucked out of the game. The quick glimpse of the Clickers we've gotten looks really impressive and of course the famous clicking sounds they make is just as creepy as it is in the game.

I also loved the song they used for the trailer, Alone and Forsaken by Hank Williams, which is the song that is in the game and was also used for the first trailer of the game back in 2012.

I do think it is cool that the actress that plays Marlene in the game is gonna reprise her role in the show, so I know that will be done well.

However, here is where alot of people are probably gonna disagree with me, I do not like the casting for Joel and Ellie. I'm sorry, I do like Pedro Pascal, I think he is a good actor, he is great in the Mandalorian, he was the best part of Wonder Woman 1984 (which was a snooze fest and he was the only one that was entertaining), and I'm only half way through season 2 of Narcos and he is really good there.

But...I just don't see him as Joel. There were other actors, I think, would've been a better choice. My personal choice is Hugh Jackman, I think he would've knocked it out of the park and if you've see Logan, he already kinda looked like Joel. So much so, my brother and I used to joke that Logan is secretly a Last of Us movie.

Some people, including my brother, said Nikolaj Coster-Waldau should've played Joel, and seeing pictures of this guy he does looks like Joel.

Now I don't know anything about the girl that's playing Ellie, Bella I believe her name is, she's apparently in Game of Thrones and I never watched Game of Thrones. But, like with Pedro, I don't see her as Ellie.

Ellie is a hard character to figure out who would play her but lately, I think I found a good actress that would've been perfect for Ellie. And that is Sadie Sink, who plays Max in Stranger Things. She has the right attitude and spunk that Ellie has.

Also the little first look we got a few weeks back, that was like 30 second long, and the little dialogue we hear from Pedro and Bella, which is the dialogue from Joel and Ellie's fight in the Fall section, from what I could hear, both of them sounded flat and emotionless compared to the scene in the game.

And I know this show is an adaptation and sometimes they won't get people to look exactly like the character, but you can get people to look similar enough that they are recognizable. Look at the MCU! Most of their actors look like the comic book characters and they have been great!

I am very mixed on the trailer and I guess I have some skepticism of it but I am gonna give the show a chance and watch it. I do hope the show proves me wrong and Pedro and Bella prove me wrong.

But we will see in 2023.