#He was the thing that made me realise I had a thing for stuff that weren't human

[novasillies]

Imma be mean when I say this. The way these girls are literally sending hate to an actor over a character who was racist on the show and an actor who’s exploited fans and said questionable thing just shows me that fans will do anything for a white m/m

Oh my god RIGHT?? These people have fabricated depth out of nothing just because those two boys kissed and dated for 6 months and now a vast majority of them are just being insufferable about it.

I do not think that anyone could love bucktommy with all their heart unless they’re just fetishising mlm relationships because nothing in the actual content of the show made that relationship look as good as they act like it was and tommy was a racist fucking bitch!!!!! If you suddenly love him because he kissed Buck then you should rlly evaluate that!!

And idk shit about Lou ferrigno jr but neither do his fans. They need to realise they don’t know this man. He did his job. He’s gonna do other stuff now. He doesn’t need to be coddled like a baby and he doesn’t need people telling him to die. He’s just a random dude with no impact on your life chillax. So is Oliver Stark.

And once again wheereeee is this outrage whenever henren get put through hell?? When the first mlm date they showed was a ploy to mug Josh? But no two boys break up and NOW the show hates queer people???? They r rooting for the WORST GAY MAN IN THE SHOW instead of the queer characters we have had since day 1. Noice.

[yaniiiiism]

and no matter what.. ꒰ a h.hj imagine ꒱

🎱ﾟ : ˖ ꕀ ⠀꒰๑ ´` ๑꒱⠀ 𓂂 ⠀

masterlist > schedule > main directory

♪┆pairing : hwang hyunjin x fem!reader ͏ ♪┆info : friends to lovers, free ending, fluffiest fluff, cute/romantic. ♪┆ personas: friends, hyune being himself <3 ♪┆word count : k ♪┆warnings : none. ♪┆note : based off of hyune's skz rec: hey you !! differentiated <3

hey you, yes you.

The late afternoon sun spilled golden light across the campus, casting long shadows that seemed to dance as two shadows strolled side by side.

The sound of the female’s voice filled the air between them, light and melodic as she animatedly shared a story from class earlier that day. The other, listened – or rather, tried to. 

He loved her voice, its rhythm and flow, but sometimes it felt like the words themselves drifted over him like the wind, leaving him caught in a different kind of reverie.

‘blah blah blah, proper name, place name, backstory stuff..’

Her hair swayed as she spoke, her dark locks brushing just past her shoulders, glinting faintly under the sun’s glow. Her eyes sparkled with life, her laugh spilling out in waves that made the world around them quieter, fading away into the background. 

He smiled, almost absently, not realising he’d been staring at her lips as they moved, shaping every word. He couldn’t help it – there was something mesmerising about her. Every moment she smiled, his heart did this fluttering thing, like wings of a trapped butterfly desperate to break free. 

They walked like this often, at an easy pace – her talking, him beside her, always only half listening but entirely enchanted by her presence. It was pretty routine now, these after-school walks. Sometimes they’d end up at her apartment, sometimes at a cafe, downtown, or a garden tucked behind the university, just out of reach of the busy atmosphere. 

Today, there wasn’t much of a destination. They meandered, letting the streets guide them.

“...and basically I was the one doing all the work for the presentation, while Yejun was trying to converse with me, ” Y/n groaned, shaking her head, clearly amused by whatever story she was telling. “To be fair, I didn’t trust him with graphics anyway.”

“Uh huh..”

Hyunjin blinked, low-key realising he had no idea what she was talking about. He glanced away for a moment, slightly embarrassed by how distracted he’d become, but his gaze quickly found its way back to her, like a compass drawn north.

“Well, that’s uh.. tiring,” he offered, though the words felt vague, distant.

She didn’t seem to notice him spacing out.

“Right? And apparently Yeseo didn’t seem too annoyed, she was doing the questionnaire.” She sighed, a quiet huff leaving her lips. She continued on, her hands gesturing in excitement and complaint, her expression lively. 

Her energy was contagious — he always found himself pulled into her orbit, like gravity. 

They were similar and different in many ways. But when they were together, none of that mattered.

His mind wandered again, drifting over the familiar details he’d memorised over the past year. The way her hair curled ever so slightly at the ends. 

Whenever he was over, it was the way her guitar looked propped against the wall of her apartment, sometimes with random pages scattered across her bed. The way she’d always have her hands on her prized guitar, whether it be randomly finger styling, or strumming chords quietly, the notes echoing into her room like waves crashing on the shore.

The way she’d hum so softly when they walked, a tune she hadn’t yet shared with anyone, not even him. 

how did you make me fall in love with you?

Hyunjin wasn’t sure when he’d fallen in love with her, but he had. 

Somewhere between their casual hangouts and the quiet moments where her smile lingered in his thoughts long after they’d parted, he’d realised how deeply he cared. She was everywhere in his mind, the centre of every daydream, the melody behind every song he’d quietly sketch out on paper. 

It was impossible not to be in awe of her.

hey you, yes you.

They passed a small record shop, its windows fogged from the chill creeping into the evening. Without thinking, he reached for her hand, tugging her gently toward the shop. “Come on, let’s go inside,” he said, his voice light.

Her eyes flickered to him, surprised. “Oh– okay–” she yelped, and he pulled her inside.

The shop was small, the kind of place where time seemed to stand still. Rows of vinyl records, their glossy covers faded with age, lined the walls. A soft hum of jazz drifted from the corner, mixing with the scent of worn paper and vinyl. It was cosy, intimate – a perfect reflection of the quiet spaces they often found themselves in.

He let go of her hand reluctantly, watching as the lady drifted toward a display of classic rock albums, her fingers skimming over the spines. She looked in her element here, surrounded by music, and he couldn’t help but smile to himself, admiring the way her brows furrowed slightly in concentration.

 She had that effect on him – a constant source of fascination, a flame he couldn’t quite stop staring at.

at first sight.

Then she found the record she was looking for.

“Hey, look at this one!” Her voice broke through his thoughts, and she held up a pink-purple hue covered record, with a wide grin. “I’ve been searching for this almost everywhere, oh my god.” Her eyes went through the cover, excitement gushing her veins. 

Pink Floyd’s – Learning to Fly.

“The guitar work is crazy good in this one.” She spoke.

The guy stepped closer, glancing at the cover, but once again, his attention faltered. 

“Wait, is this the Pink Floyd one you were talking about like – a few weekends ago?” 

His eyes lifted, landing on her face instead of the record. 

“You remembered?” Her eyes twinkled, surprisingly. “Yeah, it’s that one!”

at first sight.

Of course, he remembered.

Even the smallest details that no one else seemed to catch, lived in his mind and heart, day in and day out. 

Like the way her voice softened when she talked about her favourite music, as if it were a secret between her and the universe. Or how her eyes would light up at the mention of something she loved, like now, as she held that Pink Floyd record in her hands, her smile wide and unguarded.

There was something about her that made even the mundane feel sacred. Every moment they shared was etched into his mind like notes on a page, forming a melody only he could hear.

She was beautiful in a way that made him feel unsteady, like the ground beneath him wasn’t quite solid. The warmth of the shop seemed to wrap around them, cocooning them in a bubble where only they existed.

“I do,” He said, his voice sassy, but there was a deeper weight beneath the words. He remembered the way she talked about the song with a passion that lit up the whole room. He remembered the way her fingers absentmindedly strummed her guitar as she hummed the tune, lost in thought. He remembered it all because it wasn’t just the record – it was her.

He was always listening, always watching, even if she didn��t realise it. He caught the way she tilted her head slightly when she was deep in thought, the way her lips curved when she found something funny but tried not to laugh. 

He noticed the way her breath hitched when she talked about things that mattered, like music or art, or those late-night conversations when everything felt quiet and safe.

She didn’t know it, but she was his world, every detail, every moment, like tiny brushstrokes in a painting only he could see. She consumed his thoughts, filled every gap in his mind until there was nothing left but her – her voice, her smile, the way her hair fell over her shoulders in soft waves, the way she looked at him now, eyes bright and full of life.

“I didn’t think you were paying attention,” she said with a laugh, pulling him back to the moment, though the warmth on her cheeks told him she was a little flattered.

He shrugged, “I always love to listen when you talk,” he admitted, the words hanging between them like a confession. “It’s kinda hard not to when you talk about something you love, you know?” He chuckled.

And what he didn’t know was, the way her heart was sent leaping across the room, warmth reaching her ears now, too. 

Did he really say that?  She probably wondered. 

But oh, darling, what do you even know?

She blinked, her smile faltering for a split second as she looked at him. Her eyes searched his face, as if she were seeing him for the first time. There was something unspoken in the air, something delicate, fragile, like the space between them had shifted just a little. 

She looked away, back at the record in her hands, her fingers brushing over the cover again, but her movements were slower, more thoughtful.

“Wow, I didn’t know that,” she shyly chuckled, her voice a little softer now too, as if something had shifted in her as well.

He chuckled briefly, nodding, but his mind was still caught in the moment. 

He remembered because she was important to him, more than she could ever know. He wanted to tell her – wanted to say that every time she spoke, every time she smiled, it was like the world stopped turning for a second, just so he could capture it. But he stayed quiet, afraid that if he said too much, the magic of the moment might disappear.

Instead, they stood there in the quiet shop, surrounded by the hum of jazz and the soft rustle of vinyl sleeves, as the weight of their unspoken feelings settled around them.

“I bet you could play like that,” he said softly, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

She looked up once again, her eyes meeting his, surprised. She laughed, brushing it off. “You’re just saying that,” she teased, but there was a flicker of something in her gaze – something soft, something that lingered a little too long.

He felt his heart skip. 

They spent the next hour wandering the aisles, flipping through albums, sharing quiet conversations about their favourite bands. But no matter what they talked about, His mind kept circling back to her – her laughter, the way her eyes lit up when she talked about something she loved. Every moment with her felt like a piece of a song he hadn’t finished writing, each note falling into place, slowly, sweetly.

When they finally left the shop, the sun had set, and the city lights flickered to life around them. They walked in silence for a while, the cool night air brushing against their skin. 

His hand brushed hers, and for a moment, he hesitated, unsure if he should take it again. 

He wanted to. He wanted to hold her hand, to close the distance between them, to say everything he felt but couldn’t yet put into words.

But instead, he stayed quiet, his heart full, his mind full of her.

As they reached her apartment building, then floor, Y/n turned to him with a soft smile, the kind that made his chest ache in the best way. “Thanks for today, Hyun.” she said quietly, her voice carrying a warmth that settled deep in his bones. “It was fun!”

He nodded, smiling back. “Obviously, because I was there,” he replied, cheekily, earning a roll of her eyes.

“Whatever,” She laughed. “I’ll uh, see you and Lix tomorrow at uni then.”

“Mhm, we’ll see you there.” His hand shot up, ruffling her dark hair, “Night. Don’t stay up till 3 am though, please. You look like a terrible panda with those dark bags under your eyes – surviving on three hours of sleep.”

She shot a glare his way, her arms instinctively hitting his shoulder to which he only groaned in feign pain. 

“You’re impossible. Well, go now, the uni curfew’s boutta clock down, don’t wanna be late, do you?”

He skipped back towards the elevator, pressing the tiny button. “Thank you for the reminder,” He huffed, “It’s not even quarter to eight yet, it’s stupid. But anyway, see you.”

“Good night, Hyun.” She chuckled, waving him off, as she closed the door behind her. 

He stood near the elevator, watching the door close behind her, already replaying the day in his mind, committing every little detail to memory.

Because, of course, he remembered. He always would.

and no matter what, i will give you my heart.

a/n. ୨ৎ

hyune fluff bc hes so cutie patootie :( i love hyune's skz recs bc theyre so wtf mans is such a romantic😭😭 at 99 followers aaaaa trying my best to stay active lmfao😭😭😭 if u liked this lmk by commenting or liking <3 check out my post-schedule/masterlist/taglists/etc right here ! thank you for reading >< !! — love, yani ♥︎

thank you to, @adornedwithlight , @syriss, @anitalenia for the dividers + mdb!

[fanficshiddles]

Eternally Mine, Chapter 49

Loki and Chris shared a look with one another, both thinking the same without needing to say it. Chris was driving while Loki was in the passenger seat.

Claire and Louise were in the back of the car, both of them were giggling like mad. They weren’t whispering as they knew the guys would hear, so they were using their phones to type notes to each other.

‘It’s worse than the girls at school giggling over their crushes.’ Chris commented as he glanced in the rear-view mirror at Louise, who gave an innocent smile in response.

Claire noticed Louise had a new necklace. It was a golden chain that slipped through a heart and had another heart on the end. It sat quite loosely around her neck.

I like your necklace. Looks different. From Chris?Claire typed out to show her.

Louise nodded and her cheeks went a little bit red.

Yeah. I think it’s called a love shackle… it uh, has multiple uses…

Claire looked at her with confusion.

Like what?

Louise glanced at the guys, but they were chatting about work now. She took hold of the heart on the end and pulled it, so it pulled the chain through the other heart and tightened around her neck.

Claire’s eyes widened in realisation and her mouth opened wide. Louise quickly put her hand over Claire’s mouth to stop her saying anything out loud, and she re-sorted the chain so it sat like a necklace again.

ITS LIKE A DOG SLIP LEAD WHAT THE HELL LOU! DOES HE REALISE IT DOES THAT?

Louise had to hold back a laugh.

Of course he does! One of the reasons he got it for me... It’s pure gold, too.

Claire just looked at her sister in shock, which made Louise snort with laughter. She quickly covered her mouth but it was too late, the guys heard again. Chris looked at her with an eyebrow up in the mirror and Loki turned his head around.

‘What are you two up to?’ Loki asked as he looked between them both.

‘Nothing.’ Claire said quickly.

‘Hmm.’ Loki wasn’t convinced as he turned around to face the front again.

We so need to try and rile them up somehow at this pod place. It was far too fun when Loki was feral the other week.

Louise nodded in agreement.

The pods are by a fishing lake, right? Is there trees and stuff nearby? Louise asked.

Think so, not much but I think there’s a tree-line at the opposite side. There’s no other houses or other pods nearby, just our two. So it will be nice and secluded. Claire said.

I’m sure we could easily get their instincts going. A cut finger, leave some blood trail on trees… running away from them should be enough.

They kept brain storming some ideas, but Louise’s giggling got worse again when Claire began suggesting ridiculous things.

‘Right, that’s it!’ Chris pulled over into a layby at the side of the road.

‘Uh oh… We’re in trouble now.’ Claire laughed.

‘Your fault!’ Louise poked at Claire.

‘What? Mine? It’s you that keeps laughing.’ Claire argued back.

‘You keep saying stupid things, that’s why.’

‘You’re driving the rest of the way. I need to get my girl under control. Think you need to do the same.’ Chris said to Loki with a chuckle as he got out of the car.

Loki chuckled too and hopped out. He opened the back door and motioned for Claire to get in the front with him. Claire huffed but accepted his hand and made herself comfortable in the front seat.

Chris got into the back with Louise and he reached over with a playful look on his face to grab her necklace, he pulled it firmly but slowly and it tightened around her neck so he could use it as a leash to pull her into the middle seat, right next to him.

Claire had looked round and her eyes widened, Loki wondered what she was looking at, but soon realised when he turned too.

‘God sake guys, don’t make me split you two up too for the journey.’ He said as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

‘Did you know that your brother is corrupting my sister with kinky shit?’ Claire asked Loki.

Chris laughed. ‘I am not corrupting her. She’s corrupting me.’

‘I don’t believe that for one second. I remember the type of videos you used to watch to get yourself off.’ Loki commented.

Claire nearly choked as she’d taken a sip of water at the wrong time.

‘What’s wrong, Claire? Do you want me to give my brother some tips to spice up your sex life?’ Chris smirked as Louise couldn’t stop giggling as she snuggled into Chris’ side.

‘No, nope. Our sex life is more than great, thanks. I just need you to stop corrupting my sister!’

‘I think we’re a bit late for that.’ Louise laughed.

‘Wayyyy too late for that.’ Chris confirmed with a grin.

‘Oh my god.’ Claire put her face in her hands.

Loki chuckled and squeezed her knee as he pulled back out onto the road. ‘Best not to think about it, love.’

‘I’m trying.’ Claire whined.

‘Just be glad we’re not sharing a pod with them.’ Loki smirked.

‘Maybe we should be so I can protect her poor innocent mind!’ Claire glanced over her shoulder at them. She narrowed her eyes at Chris and pointed from her eyes to his and mouthed I’m watching you!

-

The four decided to stop at a café for something to eat before carrying on to Claire and Louise’s parents. They were staying with them for a night and then heading back down the road to the pods for a few nights.

Chris and Louise went to order everyone’s food and drinks while Loki and Claire grabbed a table.

‘You’re not really worried about your sister, are you?’ Loki asked quietly.

‘No.’ Claire smiled. ‘I mean, I guess I am a bit protective of her after everything she’s been through. But I know they love each other and that he takes care of her. I know she’s in safe hands. I think the necklace thing just threw me a bit.’ She laughed.

‘You’re not jealous, are you? I could get you one, if you want to be my puppy.’ Loki smirked and put his arm around her.

‘Noooo! Loki, don’t you dare.’ Claire laughed as he kissed her cheek repeatedly. ‘I mean, you can get me pretty necklaces whenever you want…’

Loki laughed and slid his hand down her back. ‘Just nothing that resembles a dog leash… got it.’ He winked at her.

Chris and Louise returned with the drinks, then it wasn’t too long before the waiter brought over everyone’s food.

They’d barely finished eating when two guys walked into the café, Chris was instantly on edge and visibly tensed up, even though he and Louise were sitting with their backs to the door and the till area. He put his arm around Louise firmly.

‘What’s wrong?’ Louise, Claire and Loki all asked at the same time.

‘Hunters.’ Chris whispered. ‘I can smell their weapons… well, a lot of citrus. Plus, one of their heartbeats has quickened a little.’ He said cautiously and he took a sip of his tea.

‘Don’t look at them, don’t even glance.’ Loki whispered to Claire as he quickly grabbed her face, turning her into him so he could kiss her. As he noticed her about to look past Chris and Louise.

Chris tried relaxing a bit more too, but he kept his arm around Louise. He sensed the two hunters go up to order something, then they sat down at a table on the other side of the café.

‘Are there any other vamps in here?’ Claire whispered.

They knew if they talked very quietly, the hunters wouldn’t hear them.

‘I think there’s three at that back table.’ Loki tilted his head ever so slightly to the side, then looked at Chris for confirmation.

Chris nodded. ‘I don’t think they’re after us, I think it is those three vampires they’re going for, but let’s go. Now.’

‘Did you guys pay when you ordered?’ Loki asked quietly.

‘Yeah.’ Chris nodded as he stood and helped Louise with her jacket.

Loki saw while they were getting ready to leave that the hunters were mainly looking at the other group of vampires, not them. Which eased his worries a little bit as the four of them thanked the waiter and headed out as quick as they could, but without looking suspicious.

When they got to the car, Chris opened the back door for Louise to get in. Then he got in behind her. Loki opened the door for Claire and then dipped his head down to look at Chris.

‘Aren’t we going back in?’

‘What? Why?’ Chris frowned.

‘To help those vampires?’ Loki said as if it was the most obvious thing.

‘No. This isn’t Redbridge, they’re not our problem.’ Chris said firmly.

‘They’re still vampires though.’ Loki argued.

‘I don’t care. We’re not putting our girls at risk and getting involved when we don’t need to be.’ Chris growled at his brother and tightened his arm around Louise. ‘Besides, we don’t even know if they’re good vampires or not. Maybe those hunters are like Toshi and hunt vampires that deserve it. We don’t know for sure, we don’t know anything about them or the vampires.’

Loki ran a hand down his face. ‘We could at least warn the vampires?’

‘How do you plan to do that, exactly? Whatever you do, the hunters will see you going back and interacting with the vampires. If the vampires then manage to escape, the hunters will know it was you that interfered and come after you. Which, again, puts these two at risk.’ Chris was trying to remain as calm as possible, but he just wanted to get the hell out of here.

‘I think the vampires must be young or newly turned, they didn’t react at all to the hunters. What if they don’t sense them? Or know about the citrus?’ Loki’s voice was getting a little bit louder as his arms flailed around.

‘Or, maybe they did exactly what we did. Remained calm and acted like nothing was wrong.’ Chris snapped. ‘Now get in the fucking car and drive, or I’ll do it and leave you here. Is saving three vampires we know nothing about really worth putting Claire and Louise at risk?’

Claire and Louise just kept quiet and looked at one another anxiously. They both wanted to get out of there more than anything.

‘You’re still such an asshole you know that?’ Loki snarled at Chris as he shut the door, gently because it was right next to Claire, and he stormed round the other side to get into the driver’s side.

‘It’s three against two, I’m sure the vampires will be fine.’ Chris said as Loki started the engine.

Loki said nothing in response as he pulled out of the car park and headed on up the road.

Claire reached over and put her hand on his thigh. Once Loki had the car up to gear on the dual carriageway, he wrapped his hand around hers and squeezed her hand, feeling a bit calmer with her touch.

‘If it’s any consolation, I think you’re both right. It’s risky jumping into unknown battles in a place we don’t know. Though it’s hard to just forget about the vampires, you wanting to help them isn’t a bad thing.’ Claire said softly to try and break the tension that was thick in the air for a few miles.

‘If we knew the vampires, I wouldn’t hesitate to help.’ Chris said calmly. ‘Our priority is you two and your safety. If we went back in to help, you would have been left in the car unsupervised. We don’t know if there were other hunters waiting outside.’

Loki sighed and growled a little, but then he nodded. ‘I guess it would have been a bit risky.’

Things settled down better, though Chris noticed that Loki kept glancing in the rear-view mirror and side mirror a lot, and began to look a little shifty.

‘What is it?’ Chris asked him.

‘I don’t want to alarm anyone, but I have a feeling we’re being followed by that SUV.’ Loki frowned.

Chris looked out the back.

‘Shit. That was parked next to us at the café, but no one was in the front. The back seats were tinted… Turn off the carriageway, take a few different turns and see if they keep following.’

Loki nodded and turned off at the last minute. The SUV did the same. Loki went right round the next roundabout and headed back towards the dual carriageway.

‘Still following.’ Loki swallowed hard.

‘Fuck sake. Must have been more than just the two inside and they’ve heard us arguing and figured we’re vampires.’ Chris hissed. ‘Well done, brother.’

‘It’s not my fault, how was I supposed to know?’ Loki snarled.

‘If you’d just gotten in and drove off like I said, we wouldn’t be in this mess!’ Chris growled angrily.

Louise put her hands on his arm. ‘It’s not Loki’s fault, it’s no one’s fault but the hunters. Loki was just trying to help the vampires, he didn’t know. Please stop arguing. We need to lose these guys.’ She said as calmly as she could, though Chris could sense she was anxious.

He put his hand at the back of her neck and leaned in to kiss her forehead, lingering for a moment as he took a few deep breaths.

Loki squeezed Claire’s hand tighter then brought it up so he could kiss the back of it.

‘I’m sorry… for getting us into this.’ He sighed. ‘What’s the plan?’

‘Pull over and let me deal with it.’ Chris said in a slightly clipped tone.

‘Not on your own.’ Loki said as he glanced at him in the mirror.

‘You need to protect Claire and Louise. They’ll likely have silver bullets, they won’t harm me but they could kill you... I am not going to visit their parents without you.’ Chris added in to try and lighten the mood a little bit.

Loki kept driving, he didn’t want to stop. He was worried about what would happen. Not that he doubted Chris could take out a couple of hunters on his own, but he was still worried.

‘Pull over.’ Chris demanded.

‘Are you sure about this?’ Loki asked nervously.

‘Do it.’

[fillipquesender]

So... A hat in time huh?

I've been loving tjis stupid ghost since I was 12 its wild

Close ups:

I'm gonna colour the first one

[fear-no-mort]

thinkign about how alone and unloved morty was for all his life and rick was the first time anyobdy ever put such an amount of intense attention and dependency onto him . and rick had a whole new family and losing them made him stop seeing the value in other people as a whole and morty was the one and first thing that woke him up

[fidgetspringer-art]

✧ The Ardal stars ✧

[faaun]

ok let's catch up quickly

[solomon-tozer]

Select bits from Sir John's funeral that I just love...

So we have Crozier reading out the part about Jacob dreamed about a ladder, set upon the earth, "and the top of it reaching to the heavens"...

...as we see Collins and Stanley, the two characters whose mental health is a defining part of their character arcs.

Then, "Behold the Lord stood above it and he said, 'I am with thee ...'" as the focus shifts to Goodsir.

"'... and will keep thee in all places, wherever thou goest'".

Goodsir, who later questions "is God here?"

The following line and shot are "'for I will not leave thee'" as we see Jopson and Blanky.

The two men Crozier left. Blanky knew Crozier was, just earlier that day, planning to leave them. Jopson likely knew, as it's remarked later that he knows everything, and perhaps he's the one who tidied away the unsealed letter and wax.

Then the Terror lieutenants, with MacDonald too. "And in Jacob's dream he saw the invisible world, companion to the known one we perceive."

The men who were privy to Crozier's alcoholism, and were part of maintaining that separation between officers and men... but also Hickey and Irving 'perceived' Hickey's true nature.

So, of course, when we have: "So complete it would seem to leave no room for its invisible brother world" as we see Hickey...

that otherness, that not belonging, keeping out of sight, experiencing thing in such a different way but no one notices or even thinks it's there...

And then going back to a shot of the men gathered at Sir John's funeral. "The departed..."

"...who though cleaved from the frame that carried them yet live." They are all departed. Dead. Crozier is the only one who doesn't die, but he certainly doesn't 'stay' in the world he's expected to.

The contrast of the words of virtue and strength, from scripture and used to describe Sir John and saying he's "destined to reign with Christ forever", being heard as we see Hickey in Gibson's cabin.

The white glove over the hand that will offer up Hickey's tongue, his left hand reverently touching the spot, the fact that, all that time later, Hickey has come to believe that he can be a new god and reign...

Finally, for this post, we have "and see His truth amongst us" as Hickey reads Crozier's resignation letter, discovering the truth of Crozier's actions.

And not one of them is god, or has the truth. They are all in this terrible place where the sun has set, in this strange world they don't understand, in this "invisible world of spirits".

There's so much in this scene, so many links, that I just lose my mind every time.

[wolfisland]

honestly one of my least favourite things about online spaces centered around cluster b personality disorders is that they almost treat the disorders as an in joke. like its never quite anti recovery rhetoric but a lot of the times it feels like it becomes this thing where something harmful gets spurred on as a personality trait to nurture rather than a symptom to keep an eye on. freaks me the fuck out.

it could be because growing up i was pretty familiar with cluster b spaces and i lost a couple of friendships due to it becoming this whole "i have this disorder now i have to knowingly indulge the more harmful and dangerous symptoms im supposed to be treating to really prove i have this disorder!" thing.

like babes i still believe youre borderline, you dont need to go full tilt maintaining a numbered and ranked list of the people most important to you and assigning a fp role to someone who frankly is not responsible for your stability.

[thetriangletattoo]

today my nephew asked me what an mp3 reader is I finally understand my elders

[wishchthumblr]

on todays episode of "mental health issues that could easily be solved by one single thing that i dont have", GET A MICROWAVE!!!

i just know SO many of my eating related issues (not all obviously but a LOT of them) would be solved if this house just had a goddamn microwave

today i ate like... 1/4th of those small frozen pizzas, 1/3rd of a grilled cheese, and 1/3rd bowl of macaroni and meatballs. and yall wanna know why i didnt eat the whole thing of any of them? its cause my stupid adhd ass took too long to eat and the food got cold. and then i Cannot Eat That anymore. so even though i was still hungry i didnt eat the rest of it and just went back to rotting on youtube shorts and being too hungry to do anything and feeling dumb and unproductive and being guilty of making food that i dont eat. just... feeling like a big ol' waste

but the thing is, if i just

✨owned a microwave✨

i could just reheat the motherfucking food and still eat it and not feel like ive wasted that food. ((because since that food is wasted i feel guilty about making it, so i dont make any more food until next meal time, but then i didnt finish that either cause im stupid and eat too slow.))

but we dont have a microwave. only an oven. and yeah maybe i couldve reheated the 3/4th pizza or the grilled cheese in the oven, but then again the oven uses a lot of electricity. and my mom is always complaining that i turn the oven on, forget that its on for a while, and that im wasting electricity. and i was too tired and hungry to deal with that possibility. plus with the oven theres a chance i forget it too long or have it too hot and burn the food and that would just make me feel worse

but we dont have a microwave, because my mom thinks having a microwave leads to "eating more unhealthy foods that you just heat up" instead of "real food". so i didnt reheat any of my food. so i didnt eat it. it got to the point where it got cold and gross so i just threw it in the trash and hope my mom or grandma doesnt notice.

but if i had a microwave, i couldve reheated that food. and i couldve eaten it. ((and yeah, maybe i wouldnt have ate the whole thing, but maybe half at least? that counts right? well it dont really matter if it counts or not cause it didnt happen.))

and then maybe i wouldnt have been feeling like im gonna faint the whole day and maybe i wouldve gotten literally anything done instead of just scrolling on pinterest and youtube shorts for hours and feeling worthless. and maybe if i ate i wouldnt have hurt myself today

but nope. no microwave. it leads to "unhealthy" habits. i guess not eating enough to count as even ONE full meal is healthier since its not "microwave food"

thanks mom

[thethingything]

local man discovers he's gotten into the habit of using DBT techniques without actually being taught them because at some point he realised that the things we get the urge to do when we have strong emotions often aren't healthy and that he doesn't like how he feels afterwards so he started noticing when that was happening and going "fuck that shit" and doing the opposite instead

[fingertipsmp3]

Had another sleep paralysis incident last night

[faaun]

lmao looking at her insta highlights was a mistake

[fioiswriting]

Muña | one shot

Summary : Marrying your bastard nephew to mend fences between your families wasn't exactly what you had planned. But when you realise that Jace has grown into a strong and handsome man, you might be ready to rethink your plans.

Rating : Explicit, 18+ MDNI

Pairing : Jacaerys Velaryon x Aunt!Reader (Reader is Alicent and Visery’s daughter. She’s one year younger than Aegon)

TW : p in v sex, mommy kink, sub!Jace (kinda), Dom!Reader (but they both switch tbh), inappropriate use of the word muña, oral (f receiving), afab reader, incest, unprotected sex, not proofread

Words count : 8064

AN : hi everyone!! I’ve been very busy lately so I haven't had time to update BUT I’ve been working a bit on various fics. Sorry to all my Aemond girlies but today it’s time for some Jace x reader. It’s a fic I’ve written for my gf who’s turning into a Jace girlie 🤭 It's full of indecency and inappropriate things.

Also English is not my first language, so sorry for the grammar mistakes !! 

Enjoy 🖤

The gardens had become your refuge over the past few days. Under the shade of the trees, on the soft grass, you had found a peaceful haven away from the excitement caused by the arrival of your half-sister and her herd of bastards. The Red Keep made you feel suffocated. And seeing your mother pacing back and forth, running left and right, didn't help. You had to calm her down. You had to keep an eye on your older brother, making sure he didn't slip away into the maze of Flea Bottom for the umpteenth time. You had to hold your family together, and you were tired. 

You almost envied Daeron, in Old Town, away from the hustle and bustle of the court.

At least no one would think of looking for you where you were now. And you could enjoy a moment's respite, poring over the thick book you had borrowed from Aemond's library. Had he known that you had entered his room without warning, had he known that you had dared to disturb the perfect tidiness of his precious bookshelves, he would probably have threatened to feed you to Vhagar. But what he didn't know couldn't hurt him. Besides, you could perhaps find a way to pay him back later. 

For now, you just needed to be left alone.

You stretched out, arms reaching for the sky. The sun's rays crept through the leaves, their warmth leaving a pleasant sensation on your face. Summer was back and you were delighted. The gentle breeze that ruffled the corners of your book and occasionally lifted the silver curls around your face gave you a sense of freedom. You deftly kicked off your shoes and lay back for a moment, your eyes closed.

Footsteps echoed on the cobbled floor, and you sighed in annoyance. You didn't have to open your eyes to see who it was. You recognised his footsteps. So, you kept your eyes closed. With any luck, he would continue his way and leave you alone to find someone else to annoy.

"Hey, my favourite little sister," Aegon exclaimed as he landed heavily beside you, his body brushing against yours. You opened one eye to acknowledge him, then closed it again, your arms crossed behind your head. "Aren't you supposed to be keeping an eye on me?" he insisted when he saw you weren't answering him. "You know, make sure I don't run off or end up drunk somewhere…Stuff like that. Which our mother probably asked you to do."

A smile tugged at the corner of your lips. It was true that Aegon was terribly annoying. But of all your siblings, Aegon was still your favourite.

You resigned yourself to rolling onto your stomach, your chin resting on your hands and your head tilted sideways to face him.  "My dear brother," you replied sarcastically. "Unable to occupy yourself, as usual."  He rolled his eyes before reaching out to remove a leaf that had gotten caught in your hair. He subtly ran his fingers through one of your curls, his touch as light as a feather. "And why have you decided to come and disturb my moment of peace, tell me?"

He blew the leaf away and you watched as it flew away on the breeze. Your big brother's eyes shone with mischief. "Why would I need a specific reason to spend time with my favourite sister?" he added, and it was your turn to roll your eyes. He moved to lie next to you, his body practically pressed against yours. 

If you moved a few centimetres, your elbows would touch his. 

You'd always been inseparable, and the habit had stuck over time, even when the teenage years had driven you apart. But in those moments, you were like two children again, ready to run away from Septa lessons to get into mischief in the castle.

“Because you always have a reason for everything,” you replied, and he looked at you with a fake hurt look that was greatly exaggerated. With Aegon it was easy. It had always been easy.  He wasn't as serious as Aemond, he wasn't as strange as Helena, and he wasn't as far away as Daeron.

"I just wanted to make sure my little sister was all ready to meet her betrothed tonight." He paused. "And also, that she hadn't suddenly decided to become a pious woman and follow the path of the Seven." His voice lowered. You poked him in the ribs. "See? I'm a caring big brother. I care about you."

"Shut up, Aegon," you replied. He laughed. Then he rolled onto his back, arms crossed behind his head, one leg bent, and he closed his eyes. The golden rays caught in his long lashes made him look like an angel. 

Everything he wasn't. 

'Well?' He added. “Excited to see Jacaerys Strong?”

You sat cross-legged. The bracelets on your wrists clinkled. Aegon knew how much the idea horrified you. You had no desire to marry Jace, to sacrifice your freedom for your half-sister's bastard eldest son. You had no desire to leave the Red Keep, to follow him to Dragonstone and spend your life bearing him children. It was your mother and Rhaenyra's idea, of course.

The union of the eldest daughter of one and the eldest son of the other, as a way of repairing the rift that has grown between your families over time. 

As if you were destined to mend fences, to undo the mistakes of your own parents.

It wasn't that you hated Jace. But he was your older sister's son, a bastard who had pretensions he shouldn't have precisely because he was a bastard. He was the model son, the perfect son, the prodigy son, the one who always did everything right. It irritated you. He irritated you with his brown curls and his awkward posture.

 It wasn't fair that your father showered him with praise when he could barely remember your own name.

You stood up, smoothing the folds of your red dress to make yourself more presentable, and you caught your brother's eyes on your body, his eyes riveted on the thin fabric that revealed your delicate shapes. God, you loved to play with that. You knew how to get men wrapped around your finger with your sweet, innocent air, and Aegon was the first victim. You approached him and held out your arm to help him up, which he accepted by pulling himself to his feet heavily. After putting your shoes back on, you bent down to pick up the thick book in your arms. If you lost it, you could be sure that Aemond would be angry with you. And that was a risk you didn't want to take.

 "Perhaps you're right, lēkia. I'd better go and make myself more presentable for my betrothed. I wouldn't wish to disgrace our family." And with that you turned back, your hair swirling in the air behind you as Aegon watched you go with a small smile on his face. 

You knew how much Aegon hated being ignored, and even more so when it came from his little sister. You knew that he would return with his tail between his legs and a pleading look on his face. Between his constant whining and his dirty jokes, he gave you little respite, but it was a game that had developed between you; a game that, deep down, you enjoyed.

He was so predictable. 

“If I had known you liked strong men, I would have dyed my hair,” you heard him shout from behind you. Aegon wasn't the least bit shy. You shook your head, your silver locks bouncing.

"Get lost, you moron," you replied without even turning around.

The meal in honour of your betrothal promised to be exciting.

*** 

As soon as he saw you, your nephew rose to pull the chair beside him in a gallant gesture, and you found yourself watching him. Really watching him. His long, broad fingers on the back of the chair. His dark locks falling around his face. His precise features; his straight nose and deep eyes and square jaw. You hadn't realised how much your nephew had changed. He'd grown up too, and he was now a good head taller than you. 

He had become a strong man, indeed.

But you refused to admit that Jacaerys Strong had become quite pleasant to look at.

"Princess," he said, pushing the chair back for you to sit down. Fingers brushed the skin of your partly bare shoulders. The touch had lasted a fraction of a second, enough to make you wonder if it had been a figment of your imagination. 

"Lord Strong," you replied in greeting. If the words hurt him, Jace didn't show it. Always the perfect son. What would it take to push him over the edge? To crack the shell he'd built around himself? To shatter the image of the gentleman?

To your right, Aegon was already seated. He was holding a glass of wine between his fingers while Aemond seemed to be lecturing him about something you couldn't understand. The exchange between you and Jace had obviously not escaped his notice, and the corner of his mouth had already curled into a smirk. You knew what it meant. 

His silence was full of implications, louder than any words. 

Your mother had lectured him before dinner, warned him to behave because that was what was expected of him, and she was counting on you to make him obey. 

But your older brother didn't say anything. He simply raised his glass in your direction, his lips forming a word that you couldn't read. You weren't sure if you were relieved or disappointed.

You looked at your nephew. He had donned a gambison in the colours of the Velaryons, and you couldn't help but smile at the irony of the situation. 

After all, a bastard in blue was still a bastard.

"Enjoying King's Landing?" you asked your betrothed, in an attempt to start a conversation. His attention turned to you, his eyes widening slightly in surprise. 

“It's quite different from what I remember,” he replied, his voice a little lower than usual, his warm eyes meeting yours. “But of course it all depends on the company you are with."

You hesitated, suddenly unsure.

You hated what the sound of his voice did to you. You hated the way his eyes suddenly made you feel vulnerable. 

Fuck.

“It all depends on the company, indeed. And do you find yourself in good company tonight, nephew?" You gave him a defiant look, as if to judge his reaction. 

As if to unveil what he held within himself. 

“I'm not quite sure. Should I?” He paused, one eyebrow raised. He had taken the bait. “What would yousay?”

His eyes sparkled with something you couldn't quite put your finger on. It wasn't the malice you usually found in Aegon's eyes when he wanted to tease you. It wasn't the gleam that animated his mind when he came up with a new plan for you to cover. 

"I would say I'm in pretty strong company," you replied as you took your cup, a satisfied smile tugging at the corner of your lips that you hid behind the glass. 

You were cruel, giving him no respite, you knew. But you admired his composure. He hadn't cracked yet. 

You knew men who were less patient.

Jace leaned towards you. A slight tilt of the head, just to make sure you were the only one to hear him. As if he wanted to share a secret with you. “Careful, Aunt,” he began, his voice suddenly quieter than before. It was almost a whisper. “I might begin to think you enjoy my company.”

You know I don't, you wanted to reply, but Jace had already straightened up as if nothing had happened, his head turned away from you. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Baela give him a questioning look, and an unfamiliar sensation stirred in the pit of your stomach. 

An unpleasant heat. 

A hint of irritation.

You were annoyed, and you didn't know why.

“Look how handsome your betrothed has made himself for you,” Aegon sneered as he reached for the decanter and leaned in close to your ear. “A true Velaryon, isn't he?” He huffed.

You wanted to slap him on the thigh, make him swallow his mockery. 

“If you think he's so handsome, I can happily leave him to you,” you replied, and Aegon's eyes widened. You saw him take a sip of wine, and something deep inside you told you he probably wasn't opposed to the idea. His usual mischievous smile was hidden behind the wine glass, but there was no mistaking his eyes.

Aegon had that tendency to give himself away, and you could read him like an open book.

The meal proved to be as boring as you had imagined. Small talk exchanged over fake smiles. An illusory moment in which everything seemed to be going well for one evening.

You weren't fooled, and you knew it was all a facade. You knew your family well enough to understand that the slightest spark could set things alight. You knew your brothers well enough to realise that all it would take was a simple glance between them to liven up an evening they found dull.

You just hoped they wouldn't cause too much trouble tonight.

To your left, Jace was still deep in conversation with Baela. They had that kind of complicity that made your blood boil inside; a shared laugh that sounded in your ear like the squeaky music you hated. You frowned. It was you, his betrothed. It was you, not Baela, and you didn't understand why that statement was suddenly so important. 

After all, you despised this union. You hated Jace. You had no desire to promise him the rest of your life.

Jace was a bastard, and you deserved better.

So why did the sight of him touching Baela's hand cause a twinge of jealousy in your body?

His fingers brushed over hers absently. A light touch on her knuckles. 

And all you felt was fire.

And then. Then, your fingers slipped under the wooden table. 

You knew you were playing with fire. And you knew that if anyone paid too much attention to what you were doing, they would see that you weren't exactly behaving like the perfect Princess Targaryen you were supposed to be.

But you didn't care.

You let your fingers wander, running along the outside of Jace's thigh before moving up to settle in the hollow that connected his thigh to his hip. With a faint touch, your fingertips brushed the inside of his thigh, and then lower, tracing small circles through the fabric that was already beginning to tighten. 

Jace almost choked. 

He spat out the contents of his glass, his dark gaze fixed on you. Everyone had fallen silent, their heads turned towards him. Rhaenyra's eyebrows were furrowed in concern.

And you hadn't removed your hand. 

An innocent smile lit up your face, your eyes sparkling with mischief. You wondered if Aegon could read you. If he could see that look on your face, so similar to his own. That distinctive feature you shared. 

Deciding to play with your prey a little longer, you put on your best fake concerned face, pretending to be worried about his health.

"Are you all right, Jacaerys?" you asked, your voice a little higher than usual as your nails dug into the fabric of his breeches. Not to hurt him, of course. Just enough to wake a certain part of him, just enough to remind him that you were his betrothed.

He cleared his throat and coughed again.

“I swallowed wrong,” he replied. 

Your fingers crept a little higher, trying to explore his upper thigh, where you knew your nephew would be sensitive. You didn't want to be rational tonight, you wanted to let the fire take over and consume you. 

You wanted to let the sleeping dragon within you awaken.

The taste of the forbidden was divine, and the heat spreading through your lower belly was too delicious to stop now.

"Be careful, mandianna. We're not married yet." you said.  We're not married yet and look where I've got my fingers. You kept your thoughts to yourself. "I wouldn't want to find myself a widow already," you replied in High Valyrian, amused, and Jace looked at you with his big brown eyes, somewhere between anger and excitement, embarrassment and curiosity. 

Under the table, out of sight, your hand brushed the stretched fabric where you could read the confirmation of what he was feeling, the manifestation of his desire.

He was hard.

Perfect.

It was you who provoked this. 

He responded to your touch.

You felt a familiar breath on the back of your neck and realised Aegon was leaning against you again. He was pretending to serve you some of the vegetables that had just been brought in for the starter, taking the opportunity to whisper in your ear as he did so well. "Try to be more discreet, little sister," he chuckled softly, his voice nothing more than a whisper to make sure no one heard you. Discreetly, he nodded to where your hand still rested on your nephew's thigh. He tilted his head. "Rhaenyra is right in front of us. Do you think she can see what you're doing to her son under the table?"

He put on his best disinterested face. As if the words exchanged between you were nothing more than banalities. 

As if he weren't commenting on the indecent deeds you were doing under the table, unworthy of a girl of your rank.

"Shut up, Aegon," you replied, trying to keep a straight face. You didn't want him drawing any more of your family's attention to you, especially when you hadn't finished playing.

Your big brother gave you a knowing wink, as if to promise you that your secret was safe with him.

And you decided to continue entertaining yourself with the new game you'd invented.

You were bold, and you decided that if Jace didn't already know it, he would find out soon enough.

*** 

It wasn't that Jace was disappointed with his betrothal. You were divine, and the dress you wore made you so regal that he couldn't keep his attention anywhere but on your body, on your cleavage so gracefully offered to his gaze.

It was precisely why he had turned to Baela, why he had tried to distract himself with their conversation, why he had desperately tried to find something else to hold on to.

Because you were making him lose his footing. And that was a feeling he hated.

No, Jace did not regret his betrothal. You were everything a man could want; you were beautiful, you were regal, you were clever, and above all, you were a Targaryen. A princess. The king's daughter.

The only problem was you were distant and elusive.

Jace remembered your pretensions and mockeries from his childhood. He remembered the little brat you were, following in your older brother's footsteps. He remembered a little girl with a strong temper, who knew what she wanted. He remembered the pranks, not just the ones he'd taken part in, like the Pink Dread, but the ones that had turned against him because of you and Aegon, too.

It was clear that the little girl you had once been, taller than him, with long silver curls and an air of self-assurance far too confident for her young age, had grown into a beautiful young woman. 

And that was something Jace hadn't considered.

He couldn't concentrate on his conversation with Baela, not when your fingers were digging through the linen of his breeches into the flesh of his thigh, as if to remind him to whom he had been promised.  

Your fingers, slender, light, burning against his inner thigh. 

He clenched his jaw.

All around him, the words and faces of the guests mingled in a swirl of sound and colour. Fuck.

Fuck.

His breeches were really becoming too tight.

You'd dared to do that. You'd dared to slip your fingers under the table, in front of everyone, and Jace didn't know whether to admire your audacity or wrap his fingers around your wrist and force you to take them off. 

Suddenly he felt hot, a familiar warmth spreading between his loins. 

He wasn't sure he could get up, not with his member pulsing between his thighs. 

Fuck. You weren't supposed to make him feel like this. He wasn't supposed to feel such a desire for you when you weren't officially married.

This dinner was about officially declaring your betrothal, not consummating a union not yet pronounced.

He was trying to calm down. He tried to ground himself back into reality. Perhaps by staring intently at the contents of his plate he could ignore the sensation of your fingers rising dangerously high; the desperate need to finally have your fingers wrapped around his manhood.

His knees slammed into the table in a sudden movement.

Your fingers had just brushed the bulge that had formed between his thighs. 

And he needed more, infinitely more.

You couldn't have the cruelty to arouse such lust in him and then leave him like that. He would never forgive you.

"Stop that," he growled in your direction, low enough for no one else to hear. 

But you still had that damn innocent smile, that damn audacity to act as if nothing had happened. 

"I don't know what you're talking about, mandianna." Nephew. The sound of the High Valyrian rolling off your tongue sent a wave of heat between his legs. Seven hells, you were going to be the death of him. 

He wanted more. 

He needed more. 

More of your fingers around him, more of your tongue against his length, more of that innocent look on your face as you knelt before him, more of your tight cunt.

Jace was on the verge of losing it. You'd made him a slave to his own desire. You had closed your claws around him and he knew there was no turning back now.

“If you play with fire too much, you might get burned, muña," Jace retorted, leaning towards you, and he felt the imperceptible movement of your hand twitching at the threat. Aunt.

Despite his dwindling strength, King Viserys tried to make a speech about family, betrothal, and a whole host of other undoubtedly honourable values, but neither you nor Jace paid any attention. You were caught up in your own game.

Then Jace stood up, forcing you to remove your hand. 

You could see he was uncomfortable, for you knew where to look, for you knew what you had done. 

You knew he had a painful erection between his thighs, and it was all because of you.

But you could only admire your nephew's composure. 

“To my uncles, Prince Aegon and Prince Aemond. I have fond memories of our shared childhood.” His glass between his fingers, he raised it in the direction of his uncles, then turned to you. "And to my sweet and beautiful bride-to-be, who I'm sure will never cease to surprise me with her daring and surprising side. May our marriage be filled with joy and satisfaction".

The toasts continued, as did the meal. The servants had brought the rest of the dishes consisting of steaming meat and tasty garnishes. It was almost too joyous, almost too happy to be real. As if there was a threat lurking somewhere in the corner.

But Jace still had to teach you a lesson.

The music started, the sound of instruments filling the room. Jace apologised to Baela and walked over to his aunt. His other aunt. Your sister. 

And you felt the anger return; the same inner turmoil as before. 

Jace had held out his hand to Helaena and led her to dance a little further away. You immediately exchanged a questioning look with your brother, who had also stared at Jace in disbelief as he had walked away on your little sister's arm.

"So?" Aegon began. "It seems your betrothed didn't appreciate your little game?" You glared at him, but he just scoffed. "If he changes his mind... You know I like it." 

You wondered if you could do the same. You wondered if you could ask Aegon to dance and if Jace would feel the same bubbling inside him, the same jealousy coursing through his veins.

You hated that feeling. 

You shouldn't feel that kind of emotion, especially not for him.

You obviously didn't see it, too focused on your own annoyance, but Jace kept glancing in your direction, as if to make sure you saw him. 

He wanted to make you jealous. He wanted to fuel the feeling he'd identified in you. He wanted to catch you at your own game. And one thing was certain, Jace hadn't played all his cards yet.

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

After a moment that seemed an eternity, your betrothed returned to sit beside you, Helena going back to her own seat. You were less and less able to hide your annoyance, and no doubt Jace noticed, for he leaned towards you, a satisfied look on his face. "Your sister is very sweet," he murmured. He knew very well that this simple phrase would be enough to send you over the edge. 

You liked attention. You liked compliments. You liked to be praised. 

You said nothing back. But Aegon had his trademark grin, the one that stretched his lips when he had a devious plan, and he was already getting up on the pretext of serving Baela some wine so he could whisper in his nephew's ear.  "I know my little sister can be particularly demanding.” He paused. “And difficult to tame. So if you ever need any advice... Or demonstrations…"

Jace was fuming, but he knew he had to keep his cool. It was Aegon, typical Aegon, to push his buttons, to succeed in making him suddenly unsure of himself, to make his mind confused. His fingers closed around his cup, his jaw clenched, and it took all his self-control not to throw the contents in his uncle's face. 

He didn't even look at Aegon, who had returned to his seat with a triumphant smile.

But you felt something under the table. Something slipped between the folds of your dress, along your skin, discreetly, lightly, a delicious touch against your skin that made you want more.

Your eyes widened.

Jace. 

Jace the perfect son. Jace the model son. 

Jace slipping his fingers under your dress, touching the skin of your thigh, rising dangerously high where you could already feel the wetness forming in the crease between your thighs. 

This was the moment he snapped, you knew it. You hadn't heard your brother's words, you had only seen him lean towards your betrothed, but you knew he must have struck a chord with Jacaerys Velaryon. That he had probably touched his weak spot. 

Or perhaps you were just getting your comeuppance. After teasing him, after making him hard and desperate.

Jace moved his hand, tracing the space where your skin was soft and tender, all the way up your thigh, with a slow, gentle touch. His hand moved further towards the centre of you, where you were sensitive, and he brushed against your crotch. He didn't even need to apply any pressure with his fingertips to tell that you were wet.

Your hips automatically moved towards his hand in search of more contact, causing you to wiggle in your chair. All you wanted to do was grab his wrist, force him to slide his fingers under the fabric separating you, force him to touch you right here. But you were still at dinner and the game was becoming far too dangerous. 

"I told you to be careful," Jace whispered as he withdrew his fingers and resumed his serious gaze, his fingers fidgeting on the wood of the table. “Two can play at this game.”

And then perhaps the Seven heard you. Perhaps they were offering you a way out. To be honest, you weren't sure if it was a miracle or a curse. For Aemond had risen, and he had done what he did best; he had made a mocking and provocative speech to his nephews. 

Everything happened quickly. Jace and Luke leapt to their feet to answer the provocation, Aemond and Aegon were ready to fight back, and even Baela and Rhaena were prepared to defend their family. You had no time to move, no time to react, for dinner was already over, and so was your little game of cat and mouse with Jace.

This was your way out, you knew it. You were tired of sitting around a table listening to boring speeches. And the entertainment that had consisted of sliding your fingers under the table to push Jacaerys Strong over the edge had now turned against you.

"I shall rest," you warned your mother, who was deep in conversation with Rhaenyra, her features wrinkled with worry. "Tonight's events have left me somewhat tired. And I think a night's rest would do me a world of good."  She nodded, stroking your hair, and you knew instinctively what she was thinking. Always the perfect daughter.

And as you passed through the heavy door of the dining room, you hurried off in a direction that was not that of your room.

Oh, but if she knew.

*** 

Thankfully, the corridor was deserted. You didn't have the slightest desire to run into a guard who would ask you where you were going or escort you to your room for security reasons. 

Your steps were as discreet as possible on the stone floor, like those of a small mouse. You moved quickly, stealthily, almost on tiptoe.

Only the crackle of the fire broke the heavy silence between the cold walls, where the dancing shadows of the flames distorted.

You slowed your pace. You had a doubt. You weren't sure which door was the one you were looking for. 

And then suddenly, as you reached the end of the corridor, you felt a hand grab your wrist and pull you against the wall, away from prying eyes. A strong grip, as if it didn't want to let you vanish again.

Jace was holding you between the wall and his own body. Despite the darkness, you could see his eyes shining in the candlelight, fueled by a devouring hunger you didn't know he possessed. He stared at you for a moment. His eyes in yours. A tension hung between you, burning, ready to consume you both, and you were completely willing.

Gently yet firmly he turned your body. Your chest against the cold wall, your back against his warm chest, and you pulled your hips back to provoke him. You wouldn't succumb so easily, not to Jacaerys.

He pressed himself against you, moving his pelvis forward so you could feel his hard member against the top of your buttocks.

"Do you feel what you're doing to me?" Another thrust of his hips. "Can you feel the effect you're having on me?" He pressed harder against you. Through the layers of fabric between you, you could almost feel him throb. Gods, he seemed big. "Teasing me all evening... Such a tease, aren't you?"

If it wasn't the consequence of your own actions.

You stifled a moan with your arm so as not to attract any patrolling guards. What you were doing was dangerous. At any moment you could be caught. At any moment you could be in big trouble.

But you couldn't stop now. Not when the best was yet to come.

You moved again, seeking more contact, seeking to make Jace harder and more painful than he already was, and you turned your head to challenge him. "What if it's you who's just too weak?"

You felt his hoarse breath against the back of your neck, at the base of your hair. He seemed to be hesitating, thinking. About what he was going to do to you, about what he was going to do to make sure you were responsible for your actions. Again he turned you so that you had your back to the wall, facing him, and you recognised the gleam of desire in his eyes.

Towering over you, he lowered his gaze to you, your faces inches apart. For a moment he let his eyes devour you, wandering from your eyes to your lips, from your lips to your breasts, visible through the fabric of your dress. He wanted to keep this image printed behind his eyelids; your half-open lips, your pleading gaze, like that of a little girl caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

You looked ravishing.

"Tell me to stop," Jace murmured. And you knew it was the sensible thing to do, you knew it was better to stop everything now, while it was still possible to turn back. For you weren't married yet. 

But you had no desire to be responsible.

His fingers curled around a lock of your hair and tucked it behind your ear, waiting for your answer before continuing.

"What if I don't want you to stop?" you replied, your eyes locked with his. He felt your hand against his cheek as you detailed his face, tracing his well-sculpted cheeks, and he longed for more contact, his face seeking the warmth of your palm. 

You put your arms around his neck to draw him closer, to close the distance between your lips, to feel his warmth against your body.

To quench this desire, this need that was becoming uncontrollable.

And your lips met in a feverish, urgent kiss. He pressed you further against the wall, his fingers running down your sides, brushing against the breasts he so craved.

He found your hips and his fingers worked frantically up the bottom of your dress in a crumpled ball of fabric to reach your core. "Look at how wet you are." His fingers brushed your folds through your undergarments. "All of this just for teasing me." He pressed one hand against the wall, still leaning against you, but not giving you what you wanted: his hand had stopped, and you tried to wiggle your hips to force him to continue, to force him to give you what you wanted.

Deep down, you loved the way he was losing control. 

You loved that side of Jace you didn't know. 

So you grabbed his wrist, guiding his fingers under the last barrier that separated his skin from yours. 

The sensation was delicious. 

The touch of his warm fingers against your folds sent a wave of heat from your lower belly through your entire body. You didn't want him to stop. "Here." You breathed against his lips. "This is where muña needs you." Aunt. He tensed beneath you, and you wondered if it was the ambiguity of the family tie, uttered in High Valyrian, that had such an effect on him. 

You let your lips brush against his.

He collected your wetness on his fingers, exploring the slit between your folds up to your little pearl. You were soaking wet. And you desperately needed him inside you. 

His fingers slid down to your opening where he applied a little pressure with the tip of his index finger without ever penetrating you.

"I know," he murmured, drawing small circles before abandoning your opening to return to your bud. "But I can't give you what you want now."

You whimpered under his cruelty, against his lips. 

You could see through his game. 

He wanted to make you beg, but you weren't the kind to beg. You were the one with the power and you were going to show him.

"We shouldn't stay here," you muttered, rubbing yourself against your nephew's hand. "If someone catches us..."

Jace nodded his head in agreement, withdrawing his fingers glistening with your juice, which you guided to his own lips, spreading the stickiness against his lips. 

"If you're a good boy, I'll let you taste me."

And with that, he pulled you into his room.

*** 

Lying on the bed where you'd pushed him, Jace watched as you removed your dress, his prominent erection stretching the fabric of his breeches. The dress fell to the floor, forming a red puddle that you stepped over, one foot after the other.

Your nephew couldn't look away from your hypnotic figure, but his eyes inevitably wandered back to your breasts. You'd seen him glancing at your cleavage all evening, you could tell he wanted to run his fingers over your soft flesh, his lips over your nipples, and now that you were completely naked in front of him, you could see the unmistakable desire in his eyes.

You walked up to him. He clenched his jaw when he saw you. You, and the perfection of your shape, your little pointed nipples, the tantalising path that led from your chest to the space between your thighs where he knew you were soaked for him. 

The flat of your hand pressed against his chest, forcing him to lie down between the pillows. He complied, never breaking the eye contact between the two of you, and you took your place on top of him, your legs on either side of his body. His husky breath escaped through his parted lips, lightly caressing your face.

You were naked, he was still dressed, and you had infinite power over him.

You lowered your hips against his covered crotch, the essence of your desire staining the linen of his breeches as your hips began to move slowly.

You leaned down and traced his jaw with the tip of your lips, planting kisses along his throat. Underneath you, his member twitched. Mimicking what he'd done earlier, you let your fingers rest on the painful bulge between his legs and whispered, "I know." You applied a little more pressure, drawing a moan from between his lips. "I know it's painful. But I can't give you what you want right now."

Jace growled. He wanted to turn you over, slam you against the mattress, pound into you and make you swallow your insolence. But he wanted to see how far you were willing to go. He wanted to see you keep control for a while longer.

You deftly undid his breeches to make it easier for your hand to slip through. You found his hard member, warm and heavy between your fingers.

It was a new sensation. As a model princess, you'd never ventured into this territory, saving your maidenhood for your future husband.

But Jace was your future husband.

You closed your fingers around him, your thumb collecting the sticky beads that had already formed at the tip of his cock and spreading it along his length. 

"First I want to come on your tongue," your lips articulated against the skin of his throat as the hand that was in his breeches moved up his torso to close around his jaw, your thumb caressing his lower lip to emphasise your words. "Will you let me?" you added. In response, he let the tip of his tongue slip between his lips, touching the pad of your finger. "Let me show you," he whispered.

And indeed, Jace worked devotedly between your thighs, his tongue tracing the length of your slit, drinking in your essence as it flowed from your entrance like a delicious nectar. His tongue tickled your little knob, his thumbs spreading your folds to gain access to the treasure he coveted.

One of his fingers found your hole clenching around nothing, tracing small circles against it to force you to voice what you wanted. "Do you need me here?" he whispered against your flesh, the vibration of his deep voice sending shivers through your core. Your hands buried themselves in the dark mass of his hair and you moved your hips against his face, urging him to maintain the contact of his mouth against you. "Use your words, muña," he added, despite his nose being buried between your folds.

When you gave him the answer he was waiting for, he let a finger enter you in a delicious stretch. You held back a moan, your fingers digging deeper into his hair, not caring if you were hurting him or not. He continued to explore your cunt with his tongue, like a thirsty man, like a devoted man.

You wouldn't last long, your release close.

Jace then added a second finger. The sensation of his fingers inside you, against that rough spot, combined with that of his tongue between your folds, against your pearl, was simply divine. 

"Go on," Jace started, but you immediately cut him off. "Shut up." You didn't want him to speak. You wanted him to continue with his damn tongue, with his broad fingers inside you. You didn't want him to stop. "I am... I am close."

And your climax washed over your entire body like a wave of warmth. Your legs closed around your nephew's face.

It was probably one of the best sensations you'd ever experienced.

Still between your legs, his fingers gripping your thighs, Jace collected your arousal on his tongue, sending shivers of overstimulation down your spine, and your whole body shuddering in a brutal spasm. You straightened up, knees still bent, your hand returning to your nephew's hair to guide him over you, his face close to yours. You stroked his cheek gently, as if to let him know he was a good boy, and your thumb picked up the sticky fluid that was smeared all over the bottom of his face.

You were both out of breath. You from the intense release you'd felt, he from the dedication he'd shown.

A smirk formed at the corner of your lips, and you pressed your thumb between his lips to ensure he didn't waste anything. Jace tilted his face close to yours. "You taste divine," he breathed, turning your cheeks red. "But now I need to be inside you."

His fingers slipped between your thighs, where your centre was pulsing, still far too sensitive from the ministrations he had given you. 

"You can give me another, can't you?" He asked, and you nodded, so sore.

After he undressed, Jace pushed on your shoulders to make you lie down, but you skilfully changed positions, taking him by surprise.

You were unwilling to give him the power he wanted, not yet.

Straddling him, you moved your hips to rub your crotch against his erect manhood, spreading your wetness along his length. Beneath you, his torso rose and fell rapidly, and the grunts he let out conveyed his need for more. So your hand sought his hard member, guiding it to your entrance without letting it penetrate you. "So?" you asked playfully. "Do you think you've been a good boy ? Do you think you deserve to be inside me?" You wanted to make him beg, and Jace could see right through you. "To be the first?" you added, lowering your voice slightly, as if you were telling him a secret.

But he wasn't sure he could hold out much longer.

So he capitulated, giving you the defeat you'd been waiting for.

"Yes." he breathed. "Please." Your victorious smile stretched your lips and you guided him further against you, pressing his erection against your opening. Fuck. He was massive.

He was about to breathe a sigh of relief, ready to feel your velvet walls tighten around him, but you blocked his hip movement. 

It wasn't enough.

"Please who?" you asked, your fingers moving back and forth around his manhood. He glared at you. You were gloating. "Please, muña," he finally begged, and you gave him what he wanted.

You lowered your hips to let him slide into you in a long thrust that stretched you around him. He was indeedmassive, and the new sensation of having him inside you was a delicious mix of dull pain and burning pleasure. You stood still for a moment to adjust to his presence inside you, your core throbbing around him. The initial pinch gradually dissipated, replaced by a pleasant sensation that sent a wave of warmth through your body. 

And then he began to thrust in and out, pushing up to sink into you. "Fuck...fuck, you're tight," Jace growled. Your loose hair cascaded down either side of your face, tickling his cheeks, and he caught it in a messy bun to hold it behind your head. 

You could feel the same pleasure as before building up in your lower abdomen. 

Gods, you could feel him so intensely. So deeply too. Bouncing rhythmically against that particular part of you. 

You buried your head in his neck, his woody scent filling your nostrils.

It was primal. Animal, between the two of you. All that mattered was the here and now. Your body against his, the sweat beading between you, the moans filling the room.

Jace tugged at your hair, causing you to throw your head back, freeing access to your chest, and he straightened up into a sitting position, his member still deep inside you, to find your breast. He buried his face in it and your hand instinctively found the back of his head to stroke his hair. Jace's lips traced a trail of kisses down the valley between your breasts, following the curve of your flesh before closing around your nipple, which he sucked gently. One of his arms wrapped around you to hold you tight against him, his other hand resting on the breast he wasn't devouring.

You stayed like that for a while, your legs on either side of him, his mouth seeking solace in your breasts, the divine sensation of being full, with him inside you, in the softness of the night, the flames rocking your lovemaking.

One of Jace's arms finally found your back and in one swift movement he reversed position. He desperately needed more, sensing that he wouldn't last long. 

He pinned you beneath him, against the mattress, your legs immediately closing around him and the pace quickened.  His thrusts became more messy, more sloppy because of your two combined essences.  "You're mine, now" he grunted, and you shivered. His index and middle fingers wandered between your folds, caressing the spot where you were joined before moving to the pearl hidden at the top of your slit. "Am I?" you replied teasingly. You could feel him throbbing inside you. "Then be a good boy now and give muña your seed."

That was the spark that ignited the fire. Jace quickened the rhythm of his hips, his fingers still buried between your folds, his movements erratic. With each of his thrusts, you felt his member hitting that sensitive spot against your spongy inner walls. You tensed and for the second time that evening, your release flooded your entire body.  You were followed by your nephew as Jace spilled into you, his seed painting white ropes against your womb.

He lay still inside you for a moment, his cock softening as you both caught your breath, your hands in his dark curls, his head at the nape of your neck. 

You winced as he withdrew from your still sensitive core, his now cold seed flowing between your thighs. Jace dropped down beside you, satisfied. Then you turned to him. You grabbed his wrist one last time and guided his fingers to your centre, where your folds were smeared with the remnants of your lovemaking.

"Look how much you've left inside me," you whispered into his ear, making Jace collect his own seed on his fingertips and push it back into you. "I'm going to keep it all inside me, would you like that, sweet boy?" you whispered again.

And Jace pulled you against him to kiss you, his member stirring between his thighs, against you. It was true that he'd given you the upper hand this time. But he was ready to show you what he could do. You snuggled up against his chest, tucking your head under his chin.

"Perhaps…We should bring the wedding date forward."

And he smiled.

[haunted-mlm]

so called 'free thinker' Jay haunted-mlm remembering the twelfth night retelling play hosted at a college about two at ''war'' holiday hotels and I think I saw it in highschool? possibly late primary school? and the count orsino was the most prettiest boy ever with white floppy hair and the most puppy-dog attitude ever. I think about him a lot.