#days we defend ff

[thrassa]

Do people like Riordan casually forget that the US has literally admitted to messing with our elections so as to further their interests? Do they casually forget that they've admitted to bringing the Junta that terrorised the majority of the Hellenic people for 7 whole years?

Or do they remember it but are too busy writing Gods like Hades fathering not only members of the Axis Powers but also the rejected Austrian Painter despite all we went through at their hands during WWII and onwards?

listen i read it as a kid and liked it too and i think that we can all agree that rick riordan's post-success career of elevating authors of color is better than jowling kowling's post-success career of hating trans people but people on this website look at percy jackson with profoundly rose-tinted glasses. amiguitas those books were literally textually about defending Western Civilization

[novaursa]

The Dragon's Right (1)

- Summary: It was by grace of the gods that firstborn child of Viserys I and Aemma was born a boy and he lived. And all of the rest, scholars will later say, is by power of something more malevolent in kind.

- Pairing: male!targ reader/Rhaenyra Targaryen

- Note: reader is referred to as Y/N, is firstborn and only son of King Viserys I and late Queen Aemma, is older brother of Rhaenyra and bonded with Silverwing. For more of my works, visit my blog. The list is pinned to the top.

- Rating: Mild 13+ (rating will go up)

- Word count: 6 000+

- Next part: 2

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @literaturedog

- A/N: This story is heavily rewritten my AO3 fanfic that was deleted with my account there. The jist is the same, but now it's a reader insert work.

The small council chamber is drowned with anticipation, the grand room filled with the scent of parchment and the low murmur of voices. A fire crackles in the hearth, casting silhouettes across the stone walls adorned with tapestries of dragon lore. King Viserys I Targaryen sits at the head of the table, a rare glimmer of excitement in his eyes as he speaks, the tone of his voice vibrant with pride.

"It has been far too long," Viserys begins, his hand absently stroking the armrest of his chair, carved with intricate dragons that seem to come alive under the firelight. "Three years... three years since my son rode off on Silverwing to defend our borders, and now, at last, he returns." There is a warmth to his voice, a father’s pride that softens the usual formality of the council. "He has done well, our borders are secure once more. The Dornish have been driven back, and our lands are safe. It is high time for a celebration, wouldn’t you all agree?"

Otto Hightower, the Hand of the King, leans forward slightly, his shrewd eyes never missing a detail. "Indeed, Your Grace. Prince Y/N’s valor has become the talk of the realm. His presence on Silverwing alone was enough to strike fear into the hearts of our enemies. His return will surely bolster the morale of the court and the realm alike."

Viserys nods, the pride in his son clear on his face. "He is as brave as he is handsome, and wise beyond his years. The gods have truly blessed me with a son who will make a fine king one day."

At the mention of Y/N’s potential future on the throne, the room falls silent for a moment, the weight of those words hanging in the air. It is a truth that cannot be ignored, even as Rhaenyra remains the apple of Viserys’ eye. The King’s heir, the eldest son, would always hold a special place in the line of succession.

Corlys Velaryon, the Sea Snake, clears his throat, his voice a deep rumble that commands attention. "While I share in your joy, Your Grace, we must not forget the threats that still linger beyond our shores. The Stepstones remain a festering wound, one that will continue to bleed if not dealt with. Prince Y/N’s return is a boon, but we must not grow complacent."

Viserys waves a hand dismissively, a rare gesture of impatience from the usually composed king. "The Stepstones can wait, Corlys. We have just won a great victory in the south; the Dornish have been repelled, and my son will soon return to us. Let us not dampen this moment with talk of more war. His nameday approaches, and I will not have the mood soured by concerns that can be addressed later."

Corlys’s mouth tightens into a thin line, but he says nothing further, knowing better than to press the issue when the King’s mind is set on matters of the heart. Beside him, Lord Lyonel Strong, the Master of Laws, nods in agreement with the King’s sentiment. "Your Grace is right. A celebration is in order. Prince Y/N deserves a hero’s welcome. His deeds should be sung from the highest towers of the Red Keep."

Otto Hightower shifts in his seat, his sharp mind already calculating the implications. "It will be a grand affair, Your Grace. One befitting the heir to the Iron Throne. The lords and ladies of the realm will flock to King’s Landing to pay homage to your son."

Viserys smiles, the thought clearly pleasing to him. "Yes, they will. And when they see him, when they see the man he has become, they will know that House Targaryen is strong, united. The blood of the dragon runs true in him.

The conversation shifts to the logistics of the upcoming celebrations—feasts, tourneys, and the spectacle that will greet you upon your return. But beneath the surface, other thoughts swirl, unspoken but understood by all in the room. The return of the heir will undoubtedly shift the balance of power, rekindle old rivalries, and perhaps even spark new alliances.

As the councilors discuss the details, Viserys leans back in his chair, lost in his thoughts. His mind is far from the Stepstones, from the politics and the courtly intrigues. Instead, it is on his son—the pride of his house, the dragon who has returned home. 

Though you are not yet present, your presence is felt keenly in that room, a force that commands respect, admiration, and perhaps even a hint of fear. The small council, ever the stage for power plays and whispered conspiracies, is tonight a place of celebration, anticipation, and a father's love.

The fire burns low, the shadows growing longer as the hour advances. But the warmth in Viserys' heart does not wane, nor does his excitement at the thought of seeing you again after these long, hard years. Soon, you will be home, and the realm will be reminded of the strength and glory of the Targaryens—of fire and blood, and of the dragon that you are.

The sky above King’s Landing is clear, a brilliant blue that contrasts harshly with the golden scales of Syrax as she descends towards the Dragonpit. Her powerful wings beat rhythmically, sending gusts of wind sweeping across the hillside, causing the banners of House Targaryen to flutter wildly. The Dragonpit, ancient and formidable, looms ahead—a structure built to house the great beasts of House Targaryen, and today it eagerly welcomes one of its own.

Syrax lands with a graceful thud, her massive claws digging into the earth as she lowers herself to allow her rider to dismount. Rhaenyra Targaryen, resplendent in her riding leathers of black and red, slides down effortlessly, her golden hair whipping in the wind. There’s a fire in her violet eyes, a look of exhilaration that always follows her flights with Syrax. She pats the dragon’s side affectionately before turning her attention to the awaiting figures.

Ser Harrold Westerling, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, stands ready to greet her, his white cloak flowing in the breeze, a symbol of his unwavering loyalty. His face is stern, but his eyes soften with affection as Rhaenyra approaches. "Welcome back, Princess," he says, bowing his head in respect.

"Thank you, Ser Harrold," Rhaenyra replies, her voice bright. "Syrax needed a good stretch of her wings. It’s a fine day for flying."

"It is indeed, Your Grace," Ser Harrold agrees, though his expression remains stoic. "The city is bustling with preparations for your brother’s return. The people are eager to see their prince."

Rhaenyra’s smile broadens at the mention of her brother. "As am I. It has been too long."

As they speak, a carriage pulls up near the entrance to the Dragonpit, its polished wood gleaming in the sunlight. The door swings open, revealing Alicent Hightower, her gown of pale blue perfectly complementing her auburn hair. She steps out gracefully, her green eyes lighting up as she spots her dearest friend.

"Rhaenyra!" Alicent calls, hurrying forward, her face a picture of delight.

"Alicent," Rhaenyra responds warmly, pulling Alicent into a quick embrace. "I wasn’t expecting you to come all the way to the Dragonpit."

Alicent laughs softly. "How could I not? The court is abuzz with news of your brother’s return. It seems everyone is eager to see him again." She steps back, regarding Rhaenyra with a knowing look. "And what of you, Rhaenyra? Are you excited to see him after all this time?"

Rhaenyra’s eyes soften, a fond smile tugging at her lips. "Of course I am. I’ve missed him terribly. He’s always been my closest confidant, ever since we were children. The realm may see him as a warrior, a dragonrider, but to me, he is simply my brother."

Alicent smiles, though there’s a hint of something more in her eyes—curiosity, perhaps, or something deeper. "I’ve heard the ladies at court whispering about him," she says, her voice light, almost teasing. "They say he’s become even more handsome over the years."

Rhaenyra raises an eyebrow, amusement dancing in her gaze. "None of those ladies have seen him in the last three years. He was always handsome, even as a boy, but I suppose the tales of his exploits have added to the allure."

Alicent nods, her expression thoughtful. "It’s the word from the Dornish border that precedes him. They say he cut a striking figure on Silverwing, that he was a beacon of hope for our men and a terror to our enemies."

Rhaenyra’s pride is palpable, her chest swelling with affection for her brother. "That’s the brother I know. Always strong, always brave. I’m not surprised the tales of his deeds have spread far and wide. But I’m more eager to hear them from him, to see the man he’s become with my own eyes."

Alicent smiles gently, seeing the deep bond Rhaenyra shares with her brother. "The two of you are much alike, you know. Dragons in human form. It’s no wonder the realm speaks of you both with such reverence."

Rhaenyra looks away for a moment, her thoughts lingering on her brother, before she turns back to Alicent, her expression lightening. "Come, let’s return to the Red Keep. I’m sure there are a thousand things waiting for us there. Besides, I need to freshen up before I see him. I want to look my best for his return."

Alicent chuckles, following Rhaenyra as they make their way towards the carriage. "As if you ever need to worry about that. But I understand. Today is special, after all."

The two young women climb into the carriage, and as it begins its journey back to the heart of King’s Landing, the conversation shifts to lighter topics—gossip from court, plans for the upcoming celebrations. But beneath the surface, there is an undercurrent of anticipation, a shared excitement for the return of a beloved brother, a dragonrider, and a prince who has been away from home for far too long.

As the city comes into view, Rhaenyra’s thoughts are filled with images of her brother—of the last time she saw you, of the stories she’s heard in your absence, and of the reunion that awaits. Soon, very soon, the Targaryen family will be whole again, and the dragons will once more soar together over King’s Landing.

The morning sun had only just begun to cast its golden light across King’s Landing, illuminating the bustling preparations already well underway for the day’s grand celebrations. In the Red Keep, servants and handmaidens hurried through the halls, their arms full of silks and jewels, the atmosphere buzzing with the anticipation of the prince’s one and seventh nameday. The tourney grounds outside the city walls were already alive with the clashing of swords and the cheer of spectators, but within the princess’s chambers, a quieter preparation was taking place.

Rhaenyra Targaryen stood before a polished mirror, her golden hair cascading down her back as her handmaidens worked to braid it into an intricate style fitting for the occasion. Her gown, a deep shade of Targaryen red, had been carefully selected, the rich fabric adorned with subtle embroidery that caught the morning light. Yet despite the attention to every detail, Rhaenyra’s thoughts were elsewhere.

Suddenly, a low, resonant horn echoed across the city, its deep tone vibrating through the very stones of the Red Keep. The sound was unmistakable—the return of a dragon. The call stirred something deep within Rhaenyra, her heart leaping in her chest as she pushed away the fussing hands of her handmaidens.

"Princess, please! We haven’t finished—" one of the servants protested, but Rhaenyra was already moving, her eyes bright with excitement.

She rushed to the balcony, her breath catching in her throat as she leaned over the edge, searching the skies. For a moment, all was quiet except for the distant hum of the city below. Then, she saw it—a glint of silver against the blue, a shape growing larger as it approached. 

Silverwing.

The great she-dragon cut through the sky with powerful, sweeping strokes of her massive wings, her silver scales gleaming like molten metal in the morning light. Her wingspan cast a shadow over the city as she soared over the rooftops, the people below stopping in their tracks to look up in awe. The sun seemed to dance upon her scales, turning her into a living beacon, a symbol of House Targaryen’s might and majesty. 

As Silverwing approached the heart of the city, a roar of cheers erupted from the streets below, followed by the blare of trumpets signaling the return of the King’s heir. The sound swelled and spread, filling the air with the jubilant energy of thousands of voices raised in celebration. From her vantage point, Rhaenyra could see the figures of people flooding the streets, craning their necks to catch a glimpse of the dragon and her rider.

And there, atop Silverwing, was you. Even from this distance, Rhaenyra recognized your figure, sitting tall and proud in the saddle, your pale blond hair whipping in the wind, your violet eyes sharp as they surveyed the city below. You guided Silverwing with the ease of long familiarity, a natural extension of yourself. There was a power in the way you commanded the dragon, a grace that spoke of years spent in the saddle, and a bond forged in fire.

Rhaenyra’s smile brightened, her heart swelling with pride and affection. Her brother had returned, the prince of the realm, the heir to the Iron Throne. And now, the whole city knew it. Silverwing let out a triumphant roar as she flew low over the city, a declaration of your presence that sent another wave of cheers echoing through the streets.

As you guided Silverwing toward the Dragonpit, Rhaenyra watched in breathless anticipation. The dragon angled her wings, banking smoothly toward the massive structure where the dragonkeepers awaited her. The escort wagon, finely adorned in Targaryen red and black, stood ready at the entrance, flanked by members of the Kingsguard in their gleaming white armor. The sight of it all—the dragon, the city’s response, the return of her brother—made Rhaenyra’s pulse quicken with excitement.

She turned back from the balcony, her voice ringing with urgency as she addressed her handmaidens. "Hurry! I must be ready in time to greet him."

The handmaidens, who had been momentarily frozen by the excitement of the dragon’s arrival, snapped back into action, their hands flying over the final touches of her attire. They tightened her bodice, pinned the last of her braids into place, and secured the Targaryen emblem at her shoulder with swift, practiced movements.

One of the handmaidens, a girl no older than Rhaenyra herself, smiled as she adjusted the drape of the gown. "You must be eager to see him, Princess."

Rhaenyra’s eyes sparkled as she met the girl’s gaze in the mirror. "More than you can imagine. It’s been three long years. I want to be the first to welcome him home."

Alicent entered the room just as Rhaenyra was giving herself a final once-over in the mirror. "I see the excitement has reached you too," she said with a smile, noting Rhaenyra’s flushed cheeks and bright eyes.

Rhaenyra grinned back at her, unable to contain her joy. "I’ll never grow tired of seeing him return. I need to be ready. He deserves a proper welcome, don’t you think?"

Alicent nodded, helping to smooth a stray lock of Rhaenyra’s hair into place. "He’ll be just as eager to see you, Rhaenyra. The bond you two share is special."

Rhaenyra smiled, touched by Alicent’s words, though her thoughts were already racing ahead to the moment when she would finally see you up close. "He’s been away too long. Today, we’ll be together again. I can’t wait to hear everything he’s been through, to see how he’s changed."

Alicent chuckled, gently teasing. "Just don’t keep him to yourself for too long. There’s an entire court eager to see the heir to the throne."

Rhaenyra gave her a playful look but nodded. "I suppose I can share him. But only for a little while."

The final adjustments made, Rhaenyra took one last look in the mirror, her excitement barely contained. The morning had begun with a dragon’s roar, a herald of what was to come. Soon, she would stand by your side once more, the dragon prince and the dragon princess, united in the heart of the realm.

With a deep breath, Rhaenyra turned and made her way towards the door, her handmaidens following closely behind. The day had only just begun, but it already promised to be unforgettable. As she stepped into the corridor, her heart raced with anticipation. Soon, she would be at the welcoming ceremony, ready to embrace her brother and celebrate his return to the world they both cherished.

The throne room of the Red Keep was a magnificent sight, its grand scale and ornate decorations a testament to the power and history of House Targaryen. Banners of black and red hung from the high ceilings, the three-headed dragon of the Targaryens prominently displayed. The Iron Throne itself, forged from the swords of defeated enemies, loomed at the far end of the hall, a jagged symbol of absolute authority.

King Viserys I Targaryen sat upon the throne, his posture tense with anticipation. His eyes, the same violet as his children’s, were fixed on the massive doors at the other end of the hall. Courtiers and lords stood in silence, lining the path to the throne, their eyes darting between the King and the doors. The room was filled with a barely contained excitement, the air thick with the importance of the moment.

Viserys shifted in his seat, trying to maintain his regal composure, though it was clear to those who knew him well that he was impatient. It had been three long years since he had last seen his son, and the waiting was almost unbearable. His fingers drummed lightly on the armrest of the throne, his thoughts racing with memories of the boy who had ridden off to war and the man who would return.

Just as the tension in the room reached its peak, the doors to the throne room creaked open, and a late arrival hurried through. Rhaenyra Targaryen, her cheeks flushed and slightly out of breath, slipped in as quietly as possible, her eyes immediately seeking out her father on the throne. She exhaled in relief when she saw that she had made it just in time. She quickly moved to join the courtiers, standing beside Alicent Hightower, who gave her a sympathetic smile.

The doors opened fully with a deep, echoing groan, and the room fell into a hushed silence as Ser Harrold Westerling, flanked by the Kingsguard, stepped inside. "Prince Y/N of Dragonstone, heir to the Iron Throne," Ser Harrold announced, his voice carrying across the hall.

All eyes turned to the figure that stepped through the threshold, and the sight was nothing short of breathtaking.

You stood tall, your presence commanding the room as you entered with the easy confidence of a man who had faced both war and dragons. Your short, pale blond hair, tousled by the wind of your flight, caught the light, glinting like spun silk. Your deep violet eyes, so reminiscent of your father’s, scanned the room with a quiet intensity, taking in every detail. The armor you wore was finely crafted, a blend of polished steel and dragon motifs, but it was the Targaryen sigil emblazoned across your chest that drew the most attention—a bold reminder of the blood that coursed through your veins.

As you strode forward, your movements were smooth and measured, a dragonrider’s grace evident in every step. There was a power in your gait, a strength that spoke of the battles fought and won, of the years spent defending the realm. The courtiers and lords bowed their heads as you passed, acknowledging the prince and future king. Whispers followed in your wake, the court abuzz with murmurs of admiration and awe.

Rhaenyra, watching from a distance, felt her heart swell with pride. Her brother had always been strong, but there was something different about him now—an air of authority and purpose that had not been there before. She couldn’t help but smile as she watched you approach the throne, her eyes glistening with emotion.

Beside her, Alicent Hightower blushed deeply as you passed, her gaze dropping to the floor before sneaking another glance at you. There was a palpable tension in the air, a mix of admiration and something more, as she tried to compose herself. Rhaenyra noticed, but said nothing, a small smile playing on her lips.

Your focus, however, was solely on the man who awaited you at the end of the hall. King Viserys rose from the Iron Throne as you approached, his expression shifting from regal formality to one of barely contained joy. The distance between father and son narrowed with each step you took, and by the time you stood before him, the room seemed to hold its breath.

Viserys paused for a moment, looking you over with the eyes of a father who had missed the growth of his child into a man. His gaze was proud, but there was also a trace of sadness for the time lost. "My son," he began, his voice formal but thick with emotion, "you have returned to us a hero. The realm owes you a great debt for your service."

You bowed your head respectfully, your voice steady and warm as you replied, "Thank you, Father. It was my duty to defend our lands, but it is good to be home."

Viserys nodded, but the formality of the moment quickly gave way to something more genuine. His stoic expression broke, a broad grin spreading across his face as he stepped down from the throne. Before the courtiers could fully register the shift, Viserys crossed the remaining distance between you and embraced you with a hearty, almost crushing hug.

"My boy," he said, his voice choked with emotion as he held you close. "You’ve grown so much. It’s been too long."

You returned the embrace just as fiercely, your own voice betraying the depth of your feelings. "I’ve missed you, Father."

The hall erupted in applause, the sound echoing off the stone walls as the courtiers and lords showed their approval. It was a moment of unity, a rare and cherished sight in the often fractured world of court politics.

Viserys pulled back, his hands still on your shoulders as he looked at you with a father’s pride. "Come," he said, his voice lighter now, almost eager. "There’s so much to tell you, so much you’ve missed in these three years. The court, the realm... you must hear it all. And I want to hear every detail of your time in Dorne."

He clapped you on the back, turning to lead you away from the throne, his excitement palpable. "But first, let’s get you out of that armor. We’ll talk as you prepare for the feast. The entire court is eager to see you again, and your sister has been counting the days until your return."

As the two of you began to walk down the aisle, Rhaenyra watched with a smile, her heart full. She followed at a discreet distance, blending in with the other courtiers, but her eyes never left you. Alicent, still by her side, looked after you with a softness in her gaze, her earlier blush still lingering.

The doors to the throne room slowly closed behind you, the applause fading as the court returned to its usual murmur of conversation. The welcoming ceremony had ended, but the day was just beginning, and it was clear that it would be filled with moments to remember.

Rhaenyra, watching you disappear through the doors with your father, knew that the bond between the two of you was as strong as ever. Today, the Targaryen family was reunited, and the city of King’s Landing would celebrate in grand fashion. 

But for Rhaenyra, the true celebration was in the simple joy of having her brother home again. The dragons of House Targaryen were together once more, and nothing could dim the brightness of this day.

The echoes of the applause still lingered in the halls as King Viserys I Targaryen led you away from the throne room and into a quieter, more private part of the Red Keep. The ornate corridors, lined with tapestries depicting the history of House Targaryen, gradually gave way to more intimate surroundings—the King’s private chambers. Here, away from the prying eyes of the court, the formalities of royal life could be set aside, if only for a short while.

As the door to the King’s chambers closed behind you, the weight of the last three years seemed to melt away. Viserys gestured for you to sit at the table near the window, where a light breeze drifted in, carrying with it the distant sounds of the city’s celebrations. The table was set with wine and bread, simple fare for a king, but comforting in its familiarity.

Viserys poured two goblets of wine, handing one to you before taking a seat across from you. For a moment, he simply looked at you, his eyes tracing the lines of your face, noting the subtle changes that time and experience had etched there.

"You’ve grown, Y/N," he said, his voice soft, almost in awe. "I knew you would, of course, but seeing you now... it’s different. You’ve become a man in these last three years. I’m proud of you, more than words can say."

You took a sip of the wine, savoring the taste before replying. "Thank you, Father. It wasn’t an easy task, defending our borders, but it was necessary. The Dornish were becoming bolder by the day. They needed to be reminded of our strength."

Viserys nodded, his expression serious. "I’ve heard the reports, of course. Your presence alone was enough to turn the tide, or so they say. Silverwing must have been a sight to behold on the battlefield."

A small smile played on your lips as you recalled the days spent soaring over the arid Dornish lands, the wind whipping through your hair as Silverwing roared her defiance at the enemy below. "She was magnificent. The Dornish learned quickly that Targaryen fire is not to be trifled with. But it wasn’t just about the battles. The men needed leadership, someone to rally behind. I did what I could to be that for them."

"And you succeeded," Viserys said, his voice filled with pride. "The realm is safer because of you. The people know they have a prince who will protect them, a future king who will lead them with strength and honor."

You inclined your head, acknowledging his praise, but there was a wistfulness in your expression that Viserys did not miss. He reached across the table, placing a hand on your arm. "What troubles you, my son?"

You hesitated for a moment, then spoke, your voice tinged with a quiet sorrow. "I was just thinking of Mother. She would have been so proud to see this day, to see how the realm is at peace because of what we’ve done. I’ve missed her, every day."

Viserys’s face softened, his own grief mirrored in your words. "I miss her too," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Not a day goes by that I don’t think of Aemma, of what she would say, how she would guide me. She was my heart, and I know she was yours as well."

He took a deep breath, steadying himself as he continued. "I regret that she is not here to see you thrive, to see the man you’ve become. But I believe she is watching over us, that she sees you and is as proud of you as I am. You were her joy, Y/N. She would be so very proud."

You lowered your gaze for a moment, the memories of your mother flooding your mind—her gentle smile, the warmth of her embrace, the way she had always known just what to say to ease your fears. "I’ve tried to honor her memory in everything I do," you said quietly. "Every decision I make, every battle I fight, I think of what she would want, what she would have done. She’s never far from my thoughts."

Viserys smiled sadly, his hand still resting on yours. "She lives on in you, my son. In your strength, in your kindness, in your sense of duty. Aemma’s spirit is with us, even if she is not."

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, the weight of shared loss hanging between you. It was a grief that had shaped both your lives, a void that could never truly be filled. Yet, in that silence, there was also a sense of peace, a shared understanding that you both carried her memory with you, honoring her in your own ways.

Viserys broke the silence first, his voice lighter now as he sought to lift the mood. "But let us not dwell too long on sorrow. Today is a day of celebration, after all. The court is waiting, and I hear you plan to compete in the tourney yourself."

You chuckled, the sadness easing from your features as you looked up at him. "I do. It’s been too long since I’ve had the chance to test my skills. The Dornish provided plenty of real battles, but there’s something to be said for the honor and tradition of a tourney."

Viserys grinned, a spark of excitement in his eyes. "You’ll make quite the entrance, I’m sure. The court will be watching closely. It’s not every day they get to see the heir to the Iron Throne in action."

"I’ll do my best to give them a show," you replied with a grin of your own. "But it’s not just about the spectacle. It’s a chance to remind the realm of our strength, of the unity of House Targaryen. We’ve faced threats from the outside, but there are always threats from within as well. The court needs to see that we are strong, that we stand together."

Viserys nodded, understanding the deeper meaning behind your words. "You’re right. There are always those who would seek to undermine us, to sow discord. But today, let them see that House Targaryen is united, that the blood of the dragon runs true in you."

He raised his goblet in a toast, his eyes filled with pride and determination. "To your nameday, my son. To the future of our house, and to the memory of those who came before us."

You clinked your goblet against his, the sound ringing softly in the quiet room. "To our future," you echoed, your voice steady and sure.

As you both drank, the atmosphere lightened, the bond between father and son reaffirmed. The burdens of the past were still there, but for now, they were set aside, replaced by the promise of the day ahead.

Viserys set his goblet down, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Now, tell me—are you planning to win this tourney? Or should I place my bets elsewhere?"

You laughed, a genuine, hearty sound that filled the room. "I plan to give it my all, Father. But I suppose you’ll have to wait and see if that’s enough to claim victory."

Viserys leaned back in his chair, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Very well, I’ll keep my bets close to my chest. But I’ll be watching with great interest."

The two of you continued to talk, the conversation flowing easily as you recounted the events of the last three years, the battles fought, the alliances forged. Viserys listened intently, asking questions, offering advice, and occasionally regaling you with the goings-on in King’s Landing during your absence. The weight of rulership was ever-present, but in this moment, it was simply a father catching up with his son.

Finally, as the sun climbed higher in the sky, Viserys glanced out the window, noting the time. "The feast will begin soon, and the tourney will follow. We should make our way back to the court."

You nodded, standing as he did, your heart lighter than it had been in a long time. "I’m ready, Father. Let’s go and give them a day to remember."

Viserys clapped you on the back as you walked to the door together, his smile full of pride and affection. "That we shall, my son. That we shall."

And with that, the two of you stepped out of the King’s private chambers and back into the grand corridors of the Red Keep, ready to face the celebrations that awaited. Today was your day, a day to honor the past, celebrate the present, and look forward to the future. The dragons of House Targaryen were united once more, and nothing could dim the brightness of the day that lay ahead.

The grand corridors of the Red Keep were filled with the rustle of fine fabrics and the murmur of anticipation as courtiers made their way towards the tourney grounds. The air vibrated with excitement, the prospect of watching the finest knights in the realm compete thrilling everyone. The ladies of the court walked in groups, their laughter and whispers echoing off the stone walls as they discussed the events of the day—and the prince who had returned after three long years.

Rhaenyra Targaryen and Alicent Hightower moved among them, their own excitement tempered by a more personal interest in the proceedings. They had just witnessed your return to King’s Landing, and the image of you standing tall and proud before the Iron Throne was still fresh in their minds. As they walked, Rhaenyra’s mind buzzed with thoughts of you, while Alicent seemed quieter than usual, her expression contemplative.

"You haven’t said much since we left the throne room," Rhaenyra noted, glancing at her friend as they walked. "What are you thinking, Alicent?"

Alicent blinked, as if pulled from her thoughts, and offered Rhaenyra a soft smile. "I was just thinking about your brother. It’s incredible how much he’s changed. I almost didn’t recognize him when he walked in."

Rhaenyra nodded, her lips curving into a fond smile. "He has changed, hasn’t he? When he left, he was still young, still learning how to lead. Now... now he seems so sure of himself, so strong." There was pride in her voice, but also a hint of something else—an undercurrent of longing for the time when the two of you were younger and life was simpler.

Alicent’s eyes flickered with understanding. "You’re proud of him, Rhaenyra. Anyone can see that. But I imagine it must be strange too, seeing how he’s grown in your absence."

"It is," Rhaenyra admitted, her voice quiet. "I’ve missed him so much. We used to spend all our time together. Now, it feels like he’s returned a different person, someone who belongs more to the realm than to me."

Alicent gave her a sympathetic look. "That’s only natural. He’s the heir to the throne, after all. But that doesn’t mean he’s changed in how he feels about you. You’re still his sister, Rhaenyra. That bond doesn’t just disappear."

Rhaenyra nodded, though her heart still felt heavy. She knew Alicent was right, but the feeling of being left behind, of losing the closeness you once shared, gnawed at her. "I know," she said, forcing a smile. "But sometimes I wish we could go back to the way things were, when it was just the two of us."

Alicent was about to respond when the soft murmur of the ladies walking nearby caught their attention. The two of them slowed their pace slightly, enough to overhear the conversation unfolding around them.

"Did you see him? He’s even more handsome than the rumors said," one lady whispered excitedly.

"And did you notice how he carries himself? So regal, so commanding," another added, her voice tinged with admiration.

"I heard he’s competing in the tourney today. Can you imagine how thrilling it would be to watch him fight? I’ll wager every lady here will be hoping for his favor."

The ladies giggled, their words filled with admiration and excitement. Rhaenyra’s chest tightened as she listened, her earlier feelings of pride mingling with a sharp pang of jealousy. She had always known you were admired, but hearing these women fawn over you, imagining themselves catching your attention, stirred something possessive within her.

Alicent, noticing the change in Rhaenyra’s expression, touched her arm gently. "Rhaenyra... you know they’re just infatuated with the idea of him. They don’t know him like you do."

Rhaenyra’s jaw tightened slightly as she nodded. "I know, but it still bothers me. It’s like they’re trying to take something that belongs to me." Her voice was low, almost bitter, the jealousy she felt hard to suppress.

Alicent gave her a thoughtful look, choosing her words carefully. "It’s understandable, Rhaenyra. You’ve shared something special with him, something no one else can claim. But he’s the heir, and as much as it pains you, others will be drawn to him. They see the prince, the dragonrider, but they don’t see the brother you know."

Rhaenyra sighed, her shoulders relaxing a little as she processed Alicent’s words. "You’re right," she said, her voice softer now. "It’s just... it’s hard to watch. I miss the days when it was just the two of us, when I didn’t have to share him with the rest of the realm."

Alicent squeezed her arm reassuringly. "I’m sure he feels the same way about you, Rhaenyra. He’s always been devoted to you. Don’t let the chatter of the court make you doubt that."

Rhaenyra managed a small smile, her earlier jealousy easing, though not entirely disappearing. "Thank you, Alicent. I just need to remind myself of that."

As they emerged from the shadowed corridors and into the open air, the roar of the crowds from the tourney grounds greeted them, the excitement palpable. The stands were already filled with lords, ladies, and smallfolk alike, all eager to witness the spectacle. Banners fluttered in the breeze, the sigils of noble houses displayed proudly, while the smell of roasted meats and the sound of trumpets filled the air.

Rhaenyra and Alicent were escorted to their seats in the royal box, a prime position that offered a perfect view of the lists. As they settled in, Rhaenyra’s eyes scanned the grounds, her thoughts still partly on you, wondering what you might be thinking as you prepared for the tourney.

The ladies around them continued to chatter excitedly, their conversations now shifting to the knights who would compete, but Rhaenyra’s thoughts remained on you. She couldn’t help but wonder how you would perform in the tourney, whether you would acknowledge her in some way, and what it would mean to see you in your element once more.

Alicent, ever observant, leaned closer to Rhaenyra. "You’ll see him again soon, you know. And when you do, you’ll have his attention. The bond you share is something these other ladies can only dream of."

Rhaenyra nodded, a determined look settling on her face. "You’re right, Alicent. I’ve spent enough time longing for the past. Today, I’ll celebrate the present—and the fact that my brother is finally home."

Alicent smiled warmly at her, proud of her friend’s resolve. "That’s the spirit, Rhaenyra. Now, let’s enjoy the tourney. I have a feeling it’s going to be one for the ages."

As the trumpets blared once more, signaling the start of the day’s events, Rhaenyra allowed herself to relax, focusing on the excitement of the moment. The tourney grounds were alive with color and sound, and for the first time in a long while, she felt a sense of contentment. You were home, and that was what mattered most.

The day was young, and there was much to celebrate. Rhaenyra settled into her seat, ready to watch the tourney unfold, knowing that no matter what, her brother would always be her closest confidant, the one person who truly understood her. Today, the dragons of House Targaryen were united, and nothing would take that away from her.

[gaytommykinard]

i have all sorts of criticisms for 911 as a show overall, for the 8x06 bucktommy storyline specifically, and for tim minear as a writer and showrunner. all valid criticisms and things I'm allowed to do as a queer viewer, because it relates to the writing choices, regardless whether they are influenced by external factors such as actor availability, budgets, or network demands and restrictions.

but you won't see me turning on oliver stark like a fucking rabid delusional buddie shipper.

using my logic and basic knowledge about the world of television, i can't put any blame on him for this shitfest. you won't see me coming up with ridiculous theories that he hates lou (#1 buddie talking point since the beginning) or that he got tim to write the episode this way (he's just a bloody actor ffs), that he hasn't done enough to champion the ship (you want him to be a bucktommy warrior?), because guess what?

say he promoted the relationship on his personal instagram, say he hyped it up more in interviews, say he interacted with shippers online or showcased more bucktommy fanworks... and the pair broke up in 8x06? because he doesn't write the show? you could then argue oliver engaged in queerbaiting, because the show did not deliver the queer content he promoted.

and isn't that what he was accused of anyway, before he deleted his twitter? doesn't it make sense that he might want to be careful about this?

and given the harassment he's had to endure from buddie shippers, i find it perfectly acceptable to answer buddie questions diplomatically because we know what those people are fucking capable of. it makes sense to me that he doesn't want to anger them.

at the end of the day, i'm not defending him. i've said before i'm deeply disappointed with his comments in the TVline interview and the way he doubled down in that instagram post. he has lost my respect and i no longer think he's a good ally to bisexual people specifically, because when you are playing a bisexual character, you have the bare minimum obligation to listen when real bisexual people are telling you that you fucked up. yes, i would like to see him acknowledge his wrongdoing and show that he understands the issue and why the things he said were biphobic. no matter how badly he fucked up, he should be allowed to reflect and make amends... because he's a human being and that's what the weewoo show is about. redemption arcs and second chances all around, folks.

but - he's literally just an actor and a celebrity. i expect nothing. i'm not holding out hope. i spare him no mind. i don't hate him and i'm not angry with him because i never idolised him. because i don't know him beyond the persona he shows the world. no one does. we can infer things based on what we see and hear, but there's really no way to know how much of that is his authentic self.

anyway. just my two cents 🫶

[redwinelew]

espresso | charles leclerc

social media au. southeast asian + singer!reader

summary the prince of monza attends the eras tours and finds himself completely whipped over a certain female popstar.

face claim lalisa manoban

song espresso by sabrina carpenter

warnings none just fluff and charles being a simp.

author's note reader is the opening act for taylor swift's eras tour. implied to be thai (since lisa is one) and is a solo artist and not a member of any kpop group.

all pictures taken from instagram and pinterest. credit to owners.

[masterlist]

twitter!

yn just made a post!

📍 Singapore

liked by charles_leclerc, taylorswift and 4,638,857 others

ynln singapore, you were a delight. it's always good to be back here. terima kasih ❤️

view all 19,314 comments

user1 YN I LOVE YOU

user2 this outfit ate

charles_leclerc you were amazing ❤️❤️ such a pleasure to meet you and see you performed last night

ynln charles_leclerc thank you!! it was nice meeting you as well ❤️❤️

user3 charles_leclerc ARIANA WHAT ARE U DOING HERE

user4 charles_leclerc i KNOW my boy was giggling and kicking his feet when he got that reply

landonorris user4 sitting next to him right now and I can confirm this

user5 landonorris LANDO PLS 😭😭😭😭

user6 landonorris WHAT ARE U DOING HERE

user7 landonorris LMFAO HELP????

user8 landonorris not u exposing charles 😭😭

user9 COME TO PHILIPPINES PLS

twitter!

ynln just made a post!

liked by pascalispunk, f1 and 5,789,262 others

ynln thank you f1 and scuderiaferrari for an unforgettable night at the singapore grand prix ❤️❤️ and congratulations landonorris for the win!

tagged f1, scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and ferraristyle

view all 30,682 comments

user1 YN X FERRARI I'M UPPPPPP

user2 the sneak pic of charles and carlos 😭😭

user3 charles_leclerc u just lost in front of your crush are u not embarrassed

user4 user3 wait he likes her?

user3 user4 i mean nothing's confirmed but meeting yn backstage after the concert, arriving late at the paddock on race day...... it's obvious that this boy has a crush lol

user5 user3 i have a crush on yn too he's not not special

user3 user5 😭😭

user6 sister is GLOWING

user7 user6 she always does whenever she's near her home. u can't get that southeast asian pollution glow anywhere else 🙏🏼

user8 user7 HELP 😭😭

user9 IT GIRLLLL

charles_leclerc just made a post!

📍 Marina Bay, Singapore

liked by ynln, cassieyeungmoney and 1,242,646 others

charles_leclerc P5. Not the result we wanted from the race. Maybe it's the jetlag and humidity for me haha. Will never get used to them. Congratulations to landonorris for the win. We're determined to come back stronger for the next race 💪🏻 Forza Ferrari

view all 7,526 comments

user1 not the jet lag 😭😭

user2 u did so well charles we're proud of u 🫶🏼

user3 come on we all know why u didn't perform last night and it was not the jetlag or the humidity

user4 you're laughing. you woke up late on race day after attending some concert and for p5 and you're laughing

user6 user5 i love charles but i can't even defend him on this one

user7 user6 he should have known better smh

user8 user7 the teams need to lock their drivers in their rooms so shit like this won't happen again

user9 user4 i think you're being a little too harsh

user4 user9 i'm not being harsh enough

user10 user9 omg you're not his mother ffs 😭😭 ppl make mistakes. i'm sure charles will learn from this one

user11 user10 💯!! charles is a human being too just like the rest of us. don't pretend like u never did a dumb thing the night before your final exam

user12 he probably couldn't sleep thinking about yn after that concert lol — liked by ynln!

user12 user12 GUYS YN JUST LIKED MY COMMENT@?_;#?#?

user13 user12 WHAT

user14 user12 SAY SIKE RN

user12 user14 IM SERIOUS

user15 user12 what the hell is she doing lurking around here 😭😭

user16 user15 probably stalking charles after last night's race lol

user15 user16 this is so embarrassing for him lmfao

user17 user15 i mean i don't think i would be able to sleep after meeting a pretty girl like that either but maybe that's just me — liked by charles_leclerc!

user17 user17 DID CHARLES JUST LIKE MY REPLY??????

user18 user17 the way he just confirmed your thought 😭😭

user17 user18 bro is not even trying to hide it atp 😭😭

ynln just made a post!

liked by teoyoo, justinhmin and 8,267,948 others

ynln espresso. 29.9. 💋☕

view all 109,278 comments

user1 ANOTHER BOP COMING

user2 *spongebob voice* I'M READY I'M READY I'M READY I'M READY

user3 oh girlie went BLONDE for this one

user4 user3 whenever she has a blonde hair for her song it always hits different i can't explain it.

user3 user4 FRFR she hasn't done it in a while i'm so excited

user5 SONG OF THE SUMMER

user6 user5 bestie it's september

user5 user6 i don't care 🙏🏼

user7 so so in love with the aesthetic already

twitter!

instagram!

author's note — out of all my smaus i think this is the one i'm most proud of 🤎🤎 don't forget to reblog and comment if you enjoyed it!!

[sayyourprayers]

Why Will's resentment of El is not an in-show theme:

Diorama scene

Scene begins with El completely clueless about the school dynamics - eg. waving hi to someone who dgaf. She knows she isn't having a great time (hence lying to Mike) but at the same time she feels like THIS IS THE DAY when everything will change. Bruh if you haven't gotten the memo till a day before spring break maybe Hopper didn't call you stupid enough.

Talking about Hopper - presumed dead - presumed hawkins mall fire hero - subject of El's direyama, it wasn't Will's job to find a hero for El nor was it his responsibility to to suggest she make a projected presentation (his own project's a chart ffs). The shots of Will looking nervous and upset when El presents is for 2 reasons:

i) She followed Angela

ii) She followed Angela

It doesn't matter what your project is, your bullies aren't bullying you for quality control purposes. I guess people who think they can just intervene and stop bullying by their aura alone, truly have no idea how bullying works. Hopefully, for better understanding the material being analysed (to death), they do get to experience being at the receiving end of it, even if it's just a little.

As per El's own admission she chose the diorama as a visual aid - as she was allowed to. Idk if y'all expected Ms. My grammar's getting better also to do a verbose write-up or Ms. sheltered in the lab has got no one poor bby to just suddenly know and find heroic inspiration in famous personalities. What is it? Is she undersocialised and trapped or not? Analyse that.

2. Post presentation

Will tries to assuage El that her presentation wasn't that bad (not a lie that it was great but it truly wasn't the worst) But Ms. friends don't lie won't listen to him. (omg willel wonder twins friends). Sidenote: how was Will gonna tell her that her project was "not what she should have made"? I am guessing the lines would be similar to Angela's and El's response would be similar to El's. Anywho. I'm not spending more time analysing this scene that was clearly meant to establish that El's lying in her letter to Mike and she's not really having a great time in California - which isn't just about the school and bullying btw but also (moreso) about her father's death and the loss of her powers (shown by the scene of her walking away merging into a depressed max doing the emo walk to the chart topping kate bush song: nordic walking really fast up a cliff.) But let's forget all that on-screen text for fanfic hit pieces.

3. Die a rammer

Before El's homage to Hopper meets the wrath of Devila there's a small scene (bby scene tiny as hell uwu) of El receiving her maths tests results. And they were F-ing bad. Another scene to establish how much creative writing went into El's letters to Mike. Will should have tutored her though, I agree. The least he could have done for the girl that got him kidnapped and then saved him from the kidnapper - but was it really saving if he's forever changed? Not important: this is about establishing Will's guilt and El obviously has none.

Anyway, El is minding her business and California dreamin' but Angela and the minions trip her up and methodically destroy her diorama. It doesn't help that an enraged El tries to telekinekick Angela's ass, but as we all know (and now re-know) she has lost her powers and is sad and frustrated about it.

Now some brilliant scientific minds of our generation wanted Will to step into that shit show and (and what?) defend El? The guy that famously freezes? The guy who loaded up a gun in 3.5 seconds but froze up and didn't use it on a literal monster with a monsterface? The same guy who has NO POWERS (would be copying El) and has been bullied throughout his life, not only in school by his peers but even whole ass adults. They called him slurs, egged on by none other than his own Papa. So the great analysts with zero experience in bullying and less than basic level of empathy towards bullied people, wanted Will to shatter his little never seen before peaceful Cali existence to save El after the fact? Yes, Zombie boy go save your social pariah wonder woman channeling sister friend. The fact is, he NEVER abandoned her, but he also didn't have enough social standing at school to prevent El from getting bullied. (A point missed in all analyses.)

He was upset and worried and headed over to console El, not in secret no no, out in the open. He is not a fighter. He has never stood up to his own bullies. He's only "sassy" with his friends and family, people he's close to and feels safe with (a feeling he associates with El too, as seen in his "sassiness" with her, but that's for later.)

Poor El had to be rescued by the teacher herself. No other person in that entire school that was present did anything even remotely expressing sympathy - no they were all laughing at her. Only the teacher and Will were in her corner. So much for resentment.

4. Rink O Maniacs

Let's begin with the airport waiting area: Two happy Byers pookies (yes even I have to concede that El was a pookie here) waiting for their incelebrity crush/love - disappointed almost immediately by the scrotoid they fancy cuz they've not discovered feminism yet.

El has the whole day planned, Will is there around them cuz I guess he's too young to be hotboxing with (a concerned and all-knowing) Jonathan and my man Argyle. I mean they could've bonded over being stressed out over not their girlfriends.

Instead though, Angela and the aerobics class decided to eff up El's planned dayte. Angela on being called El--er--Jane's friend grabs her and heads over to the rink. Will knows El's lying, but was he supposed to idk just blurt it out with all that audience? What was he supposed to do? Was he supposed to pre-empt the attack (either) in a crowded place? He wasn't physically gonna stop anyone, let's be real. If Angela would have picked on him, he'd be the one on the rink dressed in milkshake. So let's not pretend it's a reaction unique to seeing El in distress. No that's his response to BEING DISTRESSED - which he was, seeing his sisterfriend whom he likes and doesn't resent (apart from her being the love of Mike's life) in trouble.

Mike goes "above and beyond" i.e. reacts the way y'all would've loved Will to react (but it's not his gene type). Will however is worried and the one that alerts Mike once he realises, things are no longer gonna go anywhere but down under. He finally, reluctantly, but for his sisterfriend El, tells Mike about her problems, or that she's having them. Mike also can hear what's being announced for all the rink (a dedication to Jane the snitch) and coupled with what Will's told him reacts fast and tries (the operative here, he failed too) to stop the show.

Acting prowess aside, Mike and Will are both shocked and worried by El's "wipeout" in a crowded rink where it seems nobody likes her. Mike calls out to El who runs away hurt and embarrassed n not in the mood to answer him.

Now, they BOTH look for El, and MIKE the cunt thinks it's a great time to have a one on one with Will, about him "sabotaging" the day. (I still don't know how he did that, since M11 were pretty much enjoying the date till Angela appeared). The stupid gay fight happens, whatever man, idgaf.

El straightening up in the staff closet hears Angela and the pussycats (and not stupid byler) laughing (most likely at her) and decides, powers or no powers, Angela's gonna feel it tonight. The iconic Angela facelift happens after El's appeals to salvage the day and protect her lies are dismissed. Mike and Will are both again there to give loud reactions and Mike manages to be a moid even in that situation and questions El's overreaction (he at least truly believes that, unlike Will who is ready to lie to the cops abt it being an accident, lol) (Also, a quick mention Mike doesn't remind her of Brenner, Mike's the final straw that takes her back to the lab, she's already feeling weirded out by the blood and the people surrounding her, but ya whatever.)

Commentary:

Will asking El about why she's lying to Mike, isn't just him caring about Mike being lied to over El's well-being. If one's to engage a third braincell, one would notice that Will, too, found out about El's lies that day itself. He realised cuz he lives with his sisterfriend and is with her at school and at not school and so knows whatever she's saying and Mike's recalling from the letters has more imagination put into it than his painting. Will is annoyed at El and Mike (El - cuz he says it, Mike - cuz Mike says it) for being made a third wheel and also being greeted awkwardly (let's not forget he literally didn't gift Mike the painting which he painstakingly made cuz of Mike's weirdo behaviour.) That's not resentment, that's plain annoyance - an emotion Will has shown multiple times over the course of 4 seasons. His emotions don't only exist in the context of El and Mike's existence - you may ask Jonathan and Joyce, if you don't believe me.

It's hard for some people to read Will's character as anything other than a lovesick fool or brother of the main character, and their analysis reeks of this. Let's not forget, unlike Mike Wheeler, Will actually has his OWN stake in the supernatural/sci-fi/horror/superhero plot. Mike is the romantic lead. Will and El have their own journeys and stories both including and completely independent of each other and Mike.

Will not showing El the painting, is more a testament to his enduring feelings for Mike and the post-puberty clarity of romantic/sexual attraction vs puppy love. El didn't show Will her letters to Mike either. (And I am not saying she should have.) Will is not in the text to serve El. In fact, Max herself got promoted from that job. Just slapping on Vecna preys on this juicy shit - doesn't make it true. I am not saying Will and El are perfect siblings, but they're close to it and the show wants us to believe that. (You may take this as a contribution to DBros/MissedOpporunities OTP fanwork)

Will's resentment of El is the jealousy from romantic (not even) rivalry, but it is a very small part of their relationship. He could and should have been more pissy about having the girl who (even accidentally) upended his life just being his new sister now (mike or no mike) but that's not what Will is as a person. Will's jealousy of El is also something he takes out on Mike and NEVER on El.

Maybe there's such a thing as re-watching the show too many times. Y'all jumbling up character names. Y'all need to be peer reviewed.

[hannie-dul-set]

HOME FOR THE BITCHLESS [5].

SYNOPSIS. wherein your friend offers a room for you to crash in while your dorm is being renovated, but fails to mention that your new housemates don’t know how to talk to women (oh, and they also have an ongoing bet about you, too).

PAIRINGS. choi soobin, choi beomgyu, lee heeseung, park jongseong, sim jaeyun, park sunghoon x female! reader. GENRE. housemates! au, rom-com, sitcom, reverse harem time baby. WARNINGS. swearing, someone cries again, mentions of bullying, mentions of sex. WORD COUNT. 3.9k

TAGLIST. @cerealdreamwriter @tyongff-ff @dinonuguaegi @certifiedmoa @blueberrgyuu0 @primantha @blu3bell4 @nunugget @hoshi-is-ult-bbg @captivq @tocupid @seosalad @ddazed-lhs @gyuszie @mifuyuyo @error-cant-function @twocupsofsuga @flowerbe0m @dangerousconnoisseurbanana @laviesm @keikeu @elavin @chaemmie @rikisly @satsuri3su @gyugyubin @junhuicosmo @skzenhalove @luvkpopp @yansbolobao @emer-syn @eggomi @drunkinjake @soobiverse @deobitifull @haechanspudu @yawnzzn27 @7myoi

NOTE. this is the soobin chapter. before anyone says anything, i also used to be a loser in high school so i am very qualified to write about this. anyway, please let me kmow what you think so far! ty for reading!

MASTERLIST | NEXT >

CHAPTER 5 — staring contest of death.

SOOBIN HAS ENCOUNTERED A PROBLEM. It’s quite a big problem— one that completely ruined his summer morning routine that usually starts at one in the afternoon. But it’s already 2 p.m. right now and he’s still laying on his bed, half of his head peeking out of the blanket as his eyes run over the text he received this morning over and over again from a group chat that’s been dead for a good three years. 

[Shin Jaeyul: hey class of 20XX! met up with jindo and the rest the other day and we thought it would be great if we can all get together again! hope you’ll all be available for the reunion. i’ll send the details after this message but it’s gonna be held at seonghee’s family’s hotel so feel free to bring a plus one lol.]

[Shin Jaeyul: What? ANSAN HS BATCH 20XX REUNION. When? This Saturday, 6:00pm. Where? Chatoyer Hotel, Sapphire Ballroom Function Hall

“Just don’t go, man. It’s not like your attendance is graded.”

When Soobin finally gets the energy to come downstairs to eat, he shows the text to Beomgyu for a second opinion. They’re eating yesterday’s leftovers on the patio outside the dining room. It doesn’t take long for the rest of the boys to congregate on the lounge chairs.

“But a reunion sounds fun!” Jake throws in his opinion. “I met up with my high school buddies at Crown Towers when I went to Melbourne the other day.”

“They weren’t your buddies. They invited you so you can pay for all their drinks and ditch you,” Heeseung tells him.

“Hey, Matthew was there and he was glad to see me.”

“Matthew borrowed eight hundred dollars from you last month and never paid back.”

Jake simply shrugs and snatches a cold slice of pizza from the table. Soobin gives him a look of remorse. “Anyway,” Jay jumps in. “Hyung, you should go if you want to and don’t go if you don’t want to. What do you want to do?”

Honestly, if Soobin can help it, he’d never want to see anyone from his old school ever again. And he’d rather stay at home and watch the latest episode of JJK on Saturday night (and every other night, for that matter). “But...it’s kinda rude if I don’t reply, right?” is what’s holding him back. The group chat has been buzzing every minute, messages of ‘see you there’s’ and ‘I’m so excited’s’ popping up one after the other. Only a few others including him haven’t replied yet. “What excuse should I make?”

“Tell them you have a family reunion to attend,” Sunghoon suggests.

“That’s lame. They’re gonna make fun of him,” Beomgyu scrunches his nose. Sunghoon defends with “what’s so wrong with a family reunion?!” but Soobin is inclined to believe that Beomgyu would be right. He didn’t exactly have a pleasant high school experience.

It’s not that he was actively bullied, or anything. He just didn’t have a lot of friends. And not a lot wanted to be his friend save for the members of the manga club he was in— but that didn’t really contribute to his position in the adolescent food chain. It’s not like he was sociable, either. He still isn’t. He was just lucky enough to get adopted by Beomgyu and managed to get along with the rest of the guys after a good two years of living here.

“Oh, then dude, you have to go!” Beomgyu exclaims. “If you don’t go they’re just gonna talk shit about you still being a loser.”

“I am a loser, though?” he says. 

“Yeah, but you’re tall and good looking and hot and that’s enough to get them to shut the fuck up if you show up and dip after thirty minutes. You know what, give me your phone. I’ll handle this.”

“No, wait—”

Beomgyu snatches the phone from his hands and plops down on the chair right across from him, the other four quickly running over and looking over his shoulders. Soobin’s heart races. This doesn’t seem like a good idea. He is right. It only takes a second before things spiral into disaster.

“Don’t say that. You gotta sound cooler.”

“Dude, that’s gonna get him bullied. Let me do it—”

“Give it to me!”

“You’re all useless, let me take over!”

“Wait, let me make one last revision—”

“No! What are you all doing?!”

When Soobin finally manages to steal his phone back, he nearly passes out when he reads the message he— his friends— just sent to the group chat.

[Count me in. Do I have to wire double the money if I bring my girlfriend? Nevermind, I’ll just send thrice the amount. Thanks :)]

Horror washes over his face. “I added the smiley face,” Jake proudly announces. Holy fuck, he wants to crawl back into his bed and never wake up. 

“Who sent that I’ll be bringing my girlfriend? I don’t have a girlfriend! Why did you say I’ll be bringing my girlfriend?!”

His phone vibrates mid-fit and he’s greeted by a reply saying that they’re so happy he’s coming and they can’t wait to see him again. Soobin is not happy nor is he excited. “We can just get you one,” Beomgyu says, as a matter-of-fact, as if you can just purchase a significant other from a gas station vending machine. His face wrinkles in distress. “When’s the reunion again? Saturday? Jakey, do you have any rich heiresses that can pretend to be Soobin hyung’s fake girlfriend for a night?”

“I’ll call Mirae noona, but hyung, are you alright alright with someone fifteen years old—”

Soobin winces. “Please don’t call her.”

“I can try asking Hina,” says Jay. “I don’t know if she has me unblocked yet, though.”

Heeseung narrows his eyes at him. “Isn’t she your ex?”

“Jay dated someone?” Sunghoon gives Jay a mildly offended grimace. “The fuck? Why don’t I know this?”

“He’s always dating someone. But he also gets dumped after three days so I’m not sure if they even count.”

Before they could further into Jay’s questionable dating history, the conversation gets cut short by a groan from Beomgyu. “Wait. We literally have a girl living with us right now.” His words send a signal into all their ears. It takes a moment for it to settle, and when it does, it’s like a thinly stretched rope snaps in half in the air.

Oh.

Right.

You.

“Are—are you sure about that?” Sunghoon is the first to crack the tension-filled silence. “Don’t we have other options?”

Soobin hears furtive whispering and nodding from Jake that somehow involves your name and the phrase “that’s right, she’s a girl, yes,” but chooses to ignore it and instead starts dreading the near and impending future. “It’d be better if it’s someone Soobin hyung already knows,” Beomgyu replies. “Hyung, what do you think?”

He thinks this is insane and bonkers and absolutely fucking impossible to pull off because he can’t even look you in the eye without sweating his skin off. How in the fuck he supposed to fake date you? To stand next to you? To call you with so much affection in front of numerous people he finds extremely uncomfortable to be with? To look at you? To h—

Oh god. He doesn’t have to hold your hand, does he?

“Hey, I don’t think this is fair. That’d mean Soobin hyung will technically—”

“This won’t count towards the bet,” Beomgyu says, then looks at a now red-faced Soobin. “You don’t mind right?”

Shit, he’d have to, right? But he can’t even look at you without his palms leaking like a faucet and stuttering like a broken machine. This is insane. He can’t do this. He can’t and won’t do this or else he’d actually have a heart attack and die.

“Hyung?”

“Is— is this all really necessary?” he finally sputters out.

They all look at him. “But we already sent the message.”

Right. They did. Soobin’s face falls defeated and he sinks back into the chair. “I’ll go grab her,” Beomgyu announces, and the gazes shift from him to their friend who has now risen from his seat and is walking back into the house because since when was he close enough with you to do that? You two usually bicker and argue and Soobin has seen the murderous intent in your eyes whenever Beomgyu tries to provoke you. Sure, the amount of daily arguments has definitely died down as of late and it’s mostly one-sided now, but if there’s anyone close enough to disturb your weekend for something stupid, it’d be Jake.

But they say nothing about it and watch as Beomgyu disappears inside and comes back out a minute later with you in tow, pulling you into the patio by the arm you as you grumble and groan, begrudgingly forcing your legs to follow him. “Seriously, what do you want? I was having a nice nap, you bastard. Where are you taking me? Hey, answer me. Are you still mad about the—” 

When you finally notice the rest of their presence, you stop complaining.

“What’s this? Are you having a cult meeting?”

Jake greets you with a smile. “Take a seat! We’ll explain everything.”

It’s almost impossible to glean anything coherent when there are five-ish boys talking at the same time, but you seem fine, nodding along to whatever Beomgyu and Jay are currently rambling into both of your years. Soobin grows increasingly worried by the second. “I’m so sorry. You really don’t have to do this.”

He hopes you don’t want to do this. Knowing how you practically terrorized him a few weeks ago for accidentally taking a bite out of your ice cream, you probably didn’t want to deal with him either. Yes. This is good. Soobin can just ignore the group chat and ghost his old classmates on the day of the event, so this is—

“I’m down,” you finally say. 

—what?

“You’re— you’re down?” he stutters out. He must have heard wrong, obviously. Haha, there’s no way you would—

“Yup. It’s this Saturday, right? I’m pretty sure I’ll be free, so it’s cool.”

Well, shit.

He’s fucked.

“Why do I feel like you’ve done something like this before?” Beomgyu shoots you a glare of suspicion. You grin. “Of fucking course you have.”

“Sunoo paid me a pretty convincing fee for me to sit pretty at his sister’s wedding,” you explain before shifting your gaze to Soobin, a smile playing on your lips. His fingernails dig into his palms. “Obviously for Soobin, I’ll do it for free. But we have a problem.”

His eyes flit away not even a second after, chest tightening on the spot.

“Yeah. I think we need to work on that.”

Thus begins the series of daily staring contests between the both of you for the next four days until Saturday. It scares the shit out of him when you bang on his door at random times of the day just to torment him with your very existence. Soobin knows you’re doing this to help him. He knows, he really does, but he’s not very good at maintaining eye contact without his heart racing at an unhealthy rate and without sweating profusely. His longest record has been ten and a half seconds before his face explodes like a volcano.

“I’m sorry. I don’t think this is gonna work.”

Soobin’s muffled voice is weak, red face buried into his palms as you both sit cross-legged on his mattress after another failed staring contest. The rows and rows of anime figurines he has displayed next to his bed are all staring at him in disgusting judgment. It’s now Friday. The reunion is tomorrow, and he can’t even look at you— much less pretend like you’ve been dating for the past six fucking months.

“No! You can do it, Soobin! I believe in you! Let’s try one more time, okay?”

You grab his hands, pulling them away from his face and they settle on his soft blankets, yours over his, and he starts silently freaking out because shit— holy shit, you’re squeezing his knuckles. It’s barely any pressure, but he feels it shooting into his throat like a silver snake choking him with ten pints of venom and that’s not even the worst part because you’ve decided to start looking him in the eye again. 

He rasps out a little noise and tilts his head down to the right. You do the same. He shifts his gaze to the left. You do the fucking same, chasing after his eyes relentlessly like a god damned predator on the hunt and he can feel his palms sweating pathetically into his blanket while you’re still locking them in place.

“Okay,” you breathe out, leaning back and he finally feels the blood circulating into his fingers. “What if we follow Jay’s suggestion instead and have you wear sunglasses the entire time?”

Honestly, it’s about time you gave up on him. 

Your eyebrows are scrunched, deep in thought. Soobin can look at you right now because you’re spacing out and not attacking him with the depth of your stare. He’s not used to attention in general, so something about your pretty eyes with pretty eyelashes and prettily focused expression looking directly at him just renders him completely useless. It’s fine when you’re absentmindedly looking at the posters on his wall, still in the midst of weighing your options. It’s fine because you aren’t focused on him.

“But the event is indoors and in the evening, so that won’t make a lot of sense.” And his composure immediately topples down when you flit your gaze back at him. His breath hitches in his throat. “Soobin, do you have any other ideas?”

He grabs the nearest pillow and squeezes it to his chest. “Do— do we have to do this? Can’t we just show up and leave after ten minutes?” Better yet, he just doesn’t show up at all. But you’ve been putting in so much effort these past few days, so he doesn’t want to cancel out of nowhere.

You frown. “Eye contact is the first step to selling that we’re a real couple! Even if we stay for only ten minutes, they’ll get suspicious if you can’t even look at me,” you tell him. “Soobin, let’s keep trying. C’mon.” 

Soobin is trying. He really is trying his best but one more round and he feels he might actually rupture a brain vessel. “Alright,” you exhale. “Nevermind. We’ll handle it somehow. I’ll head back to my room now so you can rest up. See you tomorrow.”

It takes no time for you to get off his bed and start walking to his door. His stomach sinks, watching your back as you reach out for the doorknob and Soobin feels like he had just disappointed you. 

He moves before his mind can think. Before he knows it, he’s out of the bed and is holding your wrist and pulling your hand away from the door. 

You look at him. He looks at you, drenched in the color of panic and confusion and at the same time a shade of earnest emotion. It stays like this for a good couple of seconds, until your lips curl into a smile and your free arm reaches up to his head, fingers dipping into his hair for a light pat.

“Thirty seconds. Good job. See you tomorrow.”

Now you completely understand why Soobin didn’t want to attend this dumpfest.

The hotel function room is fancy. Truly fancy. But the elegant crystal interiors and decor can’t hide the scent of pretentious obnoxiousness in the air, and the music siphoning through the speakers can’t drown out the sound of shit and crap and trash being exchanged between alleged old friends and classmates. It’s gross. The only saving grace of the night is the wine you’re swirling in your hand, regulating your slowly thinning patience at the scene before you.

“Soobin, buddy! Oh man, I didn’t think you’d make it!”

Here we go again. This is the what— fourth, fifth person? Soobin greets number five with less enthusiasm than the newcomer. He’s already worn out, poor boy. You prepare to intervene when you get an opening.

“Jaeyul,” Soobin says. “Hi.”

“It’s been a while, aye? You look great, man! What’s your glow up secret? You gotta tell men dude.”

Another patronizing comment from a mediocre looking male at best. They’re really lucky Soobin is an angel. You can see the discomfort in his smile when the Jae-something bastard hooks him by the neck, tugging your beanpole down because he’s at least four inches taller than his snotty ex-classmate. He looks even more uncomfortable than the time he got an unsolicited view of your red underwear. If it were you, you would’ve already kneed him in the balls to shut up his endlessly chattering mouth.

The guy’s gaze finally lands on you, tucked quietly behind Soobin’s shoulder. Took him long enough, honestly. You’ve been giving him the nastiest stare you can muster for the past five minutes, it’s honestly amazing that he only noticed now. “Who’s this?” he asks. Now, he’s just blatantly checking out someone else’s (fake) girlfriend. You hold back a scoff, but a sneer manages to slip out.

Soobin straightens, ready to repeat the script he’s been cycling through since the beginning of the night. “O-oh, this— this is—” But he seems to be a lot more nervous now. You decide to take the reins and give him a break.

“I’m his girlfriend,” you give Jae-whatever a smile, stepping forward to hold onto Soobin’s arm, who in return flinches at your touch. “Hi. I hope you don’t mind me intruding on your whole reunion. It’s just that I can’t bear to be apart from my Soobin for too long, you know?”

You’re hoping that your sickeningly sweet tone disgusts the living hell out of him and drives him away, but for some reason he lacks the social awareness to do that. “No, not at all. In fact, completely understand. I’m a taken man myself, you know?” That makes this situation a million times worse. He momentarily shifts away from you and directs his next words to Soobin. “Do you remember Bitna? We started seeing each other a few months ago.”

You can feel him stiffen next to you. “Congrats. I’m happy for both of you.”

“Didn’t you used to have a crush on her? I remember you’d give her chocolates every valentine’s—”

The twitch in his grin doesn’t go unnoticed by you. Alright, enough of this bullshit. You’re done humoring this bastard.

“Oh, sorry!” he turns to you again. “That was tactless of me, oh no. I apologize.”

You press your lips together, still smiling. “It’s fine. I wasn’t really paying attention to the bullshit you’ve been tirelessly spouting. I was wondering when you’d shut your trap and finally fuck off.”

Soobin snaps his head towards you, eyes wide in alarm. His dear old friend looks equally shocked. You hum and maintain your expression, pressing yourself closer to Soobin. “Is Bitna the one looking at us right now? Oh dear.” Shot in the dark, but you hit the mark anyway. “Anyway, if you’ll excuse us. My boyfriend and I will be heading back to our suite now to have absolutely brain-shattering, mind-numbing sex for the rest of the night that you—from the looks of your girlfriend over there— won’t be having for the rest of the week if you’re lucky enough to salvage your relationship. It was nice meeting you!”

You can see Bitna stomping her way over to her boyfriend, carrying a palpable dark force in her wake, so you quickly tug Soobin away by the hand and make your quick exit out the function room and into the elevator. You’re aware of how Soobin is currently looking at you like you’re insane as you press on the lowermost button on the panel. His eyes are practically drilling into the side of your face.

“This— this isn’t the way to our room.”

“I know,” you reply, watching as the doors close in front of you. Jay booked a room to sell your whole schtick a little further, but looks like you won’t be able to use it. “We’re not going to our room. That is unless you actually want to follow through with what I said earlier?”

When you turn to look at him, he’s already drenched in pink. You hold back a laugh. They make it so easy for you to mess with them. “I’m joking. I doubt you’d want to spend a minute longer here, so let’s just dip. These clothes are getting stuffy.”

Somehow you found yourselves at the 7-Eleven outside your subdivision, overdressed and sharing a pint of ice cream and two beers under the empty store’s fluorescent lights. You stuff a spoonful into your mouth and let your gaze linger on him for a while. Soobin has his head down, quietly staring at the top of his beer can. With a face like that, you think he’d be more confident and outspoken, but it’s almost funny how he’s trying to scrunch up his large frame in the tiny seat in front of you.

Look, you’re simply tapping an index finger on the back of his hand and he immediately flinches and draws it back. He’s so shy, so timid that you can’t help but grow soft on him.

“I’m sorry,” is the first thing he says since you left the hotel.

You rest your cheek against your palm. “For what?”

“I mean, it’s just that— you spent the past four days making sure I didn’t mess up our whole act, but I messed it up anyway and we ended up leaving early. I’m sorry for wasting all your time and effort like that. I’m—I’m really sorry for being so hopeless and pathetic and—”

“Hey, don’t say that,” you cut him off. “If there’s anyone that’s pathetic, it’s that Jaeyun? No, Jaeyun is Jake. It’s that Jae-something bastard who’s pathetic. I mean, was he not loved enough as a child? Does he have a disease that makes everything that comes out of his mouth unrecyclable trash? Anyway, if anything, it should be me and the rest of the boys apologizing for forcing you into this. I’ll help you guilt trip them later when we get—”

You stop. You stop because you notice how his eyes are getting a little red, and how they’re getting a little glassy, and how he’s nipping at his bottom lip that you’re afraid it might start bleeding.

“Oh. Oh no. Soobin, please don’t cry.”

And he starts crying. Well, fuck.

You hastily get out of your seat and plop down right next to him, letting his head drop down to your shoulder. He continues sniffling as you switch between rubbing his back and giving him pats on the head, staring blankly at the empty aisles because the last thing you expected to do today is comfort a grown man in a dingy convenience store while you’re in high heels and a strappy dress.

“Let’s have a movie marathon with the boys when we get back, okay?”

At least you’ve gotten better at consoling people. It seems like a useful skill to have for the rest of your stay.

HOME FOR THE BITCHLESS. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.

[squoxle]

Golden Rule - L.HS ff ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡

🎧 pairing: inexperienced!heeseung x badgirl!reader

🎧 summary: your cute and nerdy classmate lets you have your way with him in exchange for help on an assignment

🎧 cw: corruption and exhibitionism kink, oral (m. receiving), religious themes, mentions of bullying, college au, hee’s a bit subby

🎧 wc: 1.4k

You had been feeling horny for the entire week and knew you had to get your hands on some good dick or else you’d literally combust.

Introducing your person of interest: Lee Heeseung.

He was the type of guy you could guess everything about without even speaking to him. From his glasses, the way he tucked his ironed dress shirts into his belted pants, the way you only saw him either sitting with his legs crossed at a church sermon or studying his heart out at the library.

Heeseung was the epitome of a Christian nerd, but it was his insanely good looks that drew your attention to him in the first place.

You two first met at the beginning of the school semester, but you weren’t sure if you could call it a friendship just yet, especially not with the way you’d fantasize about him with your fingers between your legs every night.

It currently 6:00pm: the same time he’d come to the library to study every week day.

“What’re you working on,” you asked, taking a seat beside him at the table.

“Nothing much. Mr. Sweeney gave me this stupid hand written essay that I have to turn in by tomorrow, so I’ll be pretty busy for the next few hours.”

“What for? I thought Mr. Sweeney taught Bible. There aren’t any writing assignments for that class.”

That’s honestly the only reason why you took Bible class this semester.

“He does, but this isn’t a part of the curriculum. It’s a punishment for the prank I pulled on Jake and his crew yesterday… let’s just say, I didn’t get away with it as easily as planned.”

“Oh, so you do have a naughty side?”

“Hardly,” he sharply defended, “All I did was swap their video game discs out with episodes of The Brady Bunch on dvds. But, Sunghoon snitched, so now I’m here.”

“Tough.”

“I know. It’s not like I don’t deserve it, anyways.”

“Nobody deserves to be bullied, Hee. Those guys were assholes and you stood up for yourself! They’re the ones who should be playing Shakespeare for the night,” you argued passionately.

His eyes widened at your use of a swear word, such language that was forbidden by your university code of conduct.

“I appreciate you taking sides with me, but please don’t call it bullying. Makes me feel all… soft, and… vulnerable,” he cringed at his own words.

“You look pretty soft and vulnerable to me,” you mumbled, hungry eyes falling to his pouty lips.

“Excuse me?”

You cleared your throat, “Uhm, what’s the paper on?”

“The Golden Rule.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “The what?”

“Loving your neighbors as yourself? You should really pay more attention during Mr. Sweeney’s sermons.”

You chuckled at his comment, nudging him on the shoulder, “Hey, maybe I would if he wasn’t so damn boring… How many pages does it have to be?”

He sighed, “10 at least.”

Having to come of with 10 pages worth of “Golden Rule” greatness sounded much more challenging than you knew it actually was.

All he had to do was write in VERY BIG LETTERS.

You peered over his shoulder, examining the paper. He was just getting started on page two.

“Hmm. We have similar handwriting,” you added, making Heeseung look at you with his desperate doe eyes.

“Oh my God, ____! You have to help me!”

“Watch out, church boy. The pastor might make it 11 pages if he hear’s you calling the Lords name in vain.”

“Ughhhh,” his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he groaned, “Can you please just help me out?”

“Uh-huh, and why would I do that?”

“Look, I’ll do anything! You’re a way stronger writer than I am, and my brain is in the verge of kermitting suicide!!”

He was right. Writing was never a strong subject of his, so he really did need your help.

“Fine,” you gave in, looking around the library before whispering in his ear, “If you can be quiet while I suck you off until you finish page two, I’ll do the rest.”

His eyes widened in disbelief, “What?”

“You heard me,” you said cattily, sneaking under the table and between his legs.

“____, get from down there!! This is inappropriate!”

“Says who,” you giggled, unbuckling his leather belt.

“We’re not a married couple, ____. Hell, We’re not even dating!” He whisper-yelled from above the table, fidgeting with the pencil in his hand.

You could feel how tense he was just my touching his thighs, “You’ve never been approached like this before, have you?” You asked yet stated.

He took a deep swallow, already feeling himself throbbing in his pants, “Of course not… I’m trying to save myself here, y’know?”

“Aww, that’s cute,” you pouted, rubbing his bulge through his boxers.

“F-fuhh,” he mumbled, screwing his eyes shut at the feeling, “I don’t know if I can do this, ____.”

“With God, all things are possible, Hee! You should really pay more attention during Mr. Sweeney’s sermons,” you mocked, shimmying his boxers down to his ankles.

You adjusted yourself under the table before grabbing a hold of his impressively large dick, starting with gentle pumps.

“I’m not hearing the pencil penciling, Hee. Be a good boy and keep writing,” you slithered in a sing-song voice, licking a stripe up his shaft. The foreign texture of your tongue sent pleasurable shivers down his spine.

“____,” he cried with a surpressed moan, “how am I supposed to focus when you’re down there doing that?!” He worried, looking around as if waiting for someone to catch you two.

You released your lips from his heat with a pop, “Down here doing what, Hee? Sucking your virgin dick in the library? I always knew you had a naughty side.”

“Mmm,” he moaned again, rutting his hips up into your mouth, “please tell me you’re almost done, ____.”

You grinned at the sound of his begging, feeling yourself grow wetter with each second you spent between his legs, “Depends on if you either finish that last page or cum in my mouth first.”

Taking him past your lips again, you bobbed your head up and down, stroking the remaining inches you couldn’t fit comfortably in your mouth.

He tried his best to keep writing, but with that way you were sucking him off, his hands couldn’t help but drop the pencil before getting lost in your hair.

“Fuck,” he whined, finally letting the word come out.

He started to use your head like a toy as you sucked him in even harder, “just like that, baby. Please don’t stop.”

You were surprised by how his body slowly submitted to you the more you pleasured him.

Meanwhile, he was surprised that this was actually even happening. You moaned with the gag that tried to escape your throat, clinging to his thighs as your tried to hold in your sounds.

Your eyes started to poke with tears as he used your head more aggressively than before, finally shooting his warm load down your mouth, panting as if he’d just ran a marathon.

“Shh, you’re so noisy,” you teased, stroking him to a point of overstimulation.

“Okay, that’s enough,” he whimpered, taking your hands in his to stop your ministrations.

You licked the cum that dripped from your mouth before pulling his pants back up, getting from under the table.

You fixed your hair with your hands after literally just getting your face fucked by your sweet classmate, taking in his hot and bothered frame.

“How was it?” You asked casually, sitting next to him as if nothing happened.

You tried to ignore the sticky moisture that stuck to your thighs from your own arousal, figuring that you’d think about this moment while you pleased yourself later.

“Amazing,” he said with a shaky breath, still feeling his orgasm fresh in his veins.

“I’m taking about the page you just wrote, silly,” you teased, moving the sheet of paper closer to you before examining what he came up with, “Dude!”

“What, dude?” He asked back with flushed and sleepy features.

“This is garbage!” You exclaimed, ripping the piece of paper in half.

“Yeah, I don’t know why you would’ve expected anything different.”

“Gimme that,” you retorted, snatching the pencil from his hand, “I’m gonna need some coffee to write all these pages for ya…”

“Ugh,” he groaned, understanding that you were indirectly asking him to get you something to drink.

“Iced?”

“Always.”

He got up from the seat, searching through his backpack before pulling out his wallet, “Thanks by the way,” he smiled, trailing to the library exit.

“What can I say? It’s the Golden Rule,” you replied, jotting down the first of many sentences you’d write for Lee Heeseung, the guy you just blessed with the best blow job of his life.

❀ Thank you all so much for reading! Make sure to check out other works on my masterlist!

❀ 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝:

@chlorinecake @hoyeonheeseung @sussyjake @furious-eagle @cherrriesss @abbyizzy @weyukinluv @addictedtohobi @thatonenoona @wavykook @givemeyourtmihyun @jaeljn @hoonmywk @valennshit @19-yunalyn @hoonbby @frostedblankets @hoonsyo @no-mannerism @perfectxserendipity @chubbibish @ihrtlix @bunniesforsoobin @thereadersparadise @thatbooknerdfr @aiden2001 @belongstoheeseung @jakeybabe @donut-crazs @rizzhee @nikimeows @woonieees @uarmyxtae @rebecca-johnson-28 @they2luv1naia @isa-2007 @silcry @riverscafe @pearlwhitesoul @nikohiroshi @thatbooknerdfr @wonniewonwon

[anukkuna]

Day 10: Favorite bond in Spatort

I'll give the cliché answer and go with 'Leo and Adam'. After all, it's a major part of what got me into watching Spatort in the first place.

Also: Emphasis on Adam's side of the bond, 'cause I personally feel like I get him more and I like the whole conflict that evolves around returning to his home town and his childhood best friend.

So, things I'd like to mention: Adam obviously googled Leo from afar. He deliberately applied for the position in Saarbrücken. So, most likely, he regularly searched for "Leo Hölzer" online. Did he even become a police detective because of Leo?

"Als ich das Tauschgesuch deines Kollegen gesehen hab', hab' ich sofort zugesagt."

- Adam, Das fleißige Lieschen

But some things strain their bond and continue to do so for quite a while.

At first, on the roof in Ep. 01 (after the arrested Weißer) Adam tells Leo to just forget what happened, but over the course of the episode it becomes clear that it's not as simple as that (an important motif of this episode is that you cannot completely bury your past, no matter how hard you try).

Then Roland wakes up and Adam tries to protect Leo by not telling him, but that backfires as well. He needs to work together with him.

Adam truly seems terrified when he realises Roland remembers that it was no ordinary accident in the garage 15 year ago and that Adam and Leo tried to kill him back then.

We see them rekindle in HdS though. Leo decides to trust Adam and they get him out of prison at the end.

For a moment, we get a happy and hopeful ending, seeing how relieved they both are after the King is dead.

But this kind of peace only ever lasts so long... Next we get the end of KdE and the whole money-situation. Adam, once again, doesn't tell Leo - this time about the money. Ffs Adam... he is such an idiot. He also doesn't tell him about the attempted robbery and threat by Moritz Leimer and only reluctantly come clean about that.

Leo: "Warum meldest du das nicht? Oder erzählst es zumindest mir?"

- Leo, Die Kälte der Erde

It's not good, admittedly, but from Adam's perspective, I feel like this is all because he wants to keep Leo out of trouble. He sees how hard the past has been on Leo and how hard he finds it to forget... so his solution is to work around him. Try to keep him out of the heat. Protect Leo because Leo always put other people first and forgets to protect himself in doing so.

Don't get me wrong. Adam is a dumdum. More than that - what he does ist bad and dishonest and, regardless of one's intentions, it can easily be read as distrusting, careless and hurtful by the people who get left out as Leo does. But I'd still defend that intentions rightfully change how one should evaluate an action. Intentions aren't just add-ons - they provide necessary explanations to actions and I don't think one should fully evaluate an action, by only looking at it's consequences.

Also, I am sure that, regardless of all his secrecy and struggles, Adam would never abandon Leo again.

[the-real-sasuke-uchiha]

I hate Kakashi because he should have been the parental figure Sasuke desperately needed. Naruto had Iruka AND Jiraiya, who did Sasuke have?

Sasuke had Naruto. And despite both of their claims that they’re best friends, they were predominantly rivals for almost every single scene we see of them in the manga/show. (the only exceptions to this are the moments where *Sasuke* takes care of *Naruto*, but that’s a different rant.)

Like, no wonder Sasuke left the village as soon as he realized Itachi could just waltz back in any time he wanted, kidnap his best friend and murder his teacher. What sense of security did he have? What sense of belonging? He was 12 years old. Instead of Kakashi telling him anything remotely reassuring, he says, “Everyone I love is already dead.” Okay, so… why should Sasuke stay? To continue this eternal pissing contest with Naruto? To get sexually harassed by Sakura? Do Team 7 even *spend time* together outside of missions and group training?? WHY would this boy stay?

I’m not saying going with Orochimaru was a good thing, of course it wasn’t. But maybe, just maybe, Sasuke wouldn’t have been so quick to take that opportunity if he had ANY sense of security whatsoever. He can’t trust his village to protect him, *he* isn’t strong enough to protect his teammates or teacher, and his mentor, who should have done for him what Iruka did for Naruto, is more concerned with stopping Sasuke’s (JUSTIFIED) desire for revenge than he is about giving this child under his care any sort of safety or security.

Sasuke needed someone. It should have been Kakashi, narratively. He was the one who supposedly had established “favoritism” for Sasuke, who already had that mentor/mentee relationship with him, who was older and wiser and had dealt with his own grief and loss of family (and still had it hanging over him, hence visiting the grave every day, the way Sasuke’s grief still hangs over *him*).

Complete waste of his character imo.

You are so right, anon, this is so true. Kakashi was an awful sensei. Sasuke's life was being threatened, he had been targeted by a deranged monster, yet he was left alone without any support. Everything his teacher did was tie him to a tree, give him a petty lecture and invalidate his feelings. He was distraught, and the only adult figure in his life trauma dumped on him, treated him like an unreasonable brat, blamed him solely for a dumb fight both he and Naruto willingly engaged in, and for using a jutsu he only pulled to defend his life. Then he was left on his own while still recovering, at the mercy of Orochimaru's pawns. He had to fight four enemy ninja alone in the open, which also makes you wonder about the competence of Konoha to keep his public space safe.

Konoha and Kakashi were negligent and failed to protect him. And you are totally right, he literally had no reason to stay. Kakashi should have offered him the help Sasuke was so desperately seeking to get stronger. He should have taken him with him or found him somewhere safe to stay instead of leaving him alone in the street. He was a wounded child that was recovering from extreme psychological torture, still wearing hospital pyjamas ffs. It makes you wonder sometimes if these people are evil and dumb on purpose, because you can't be that incompetent by accident.

Going to Orochimaru was not at all a wise move, but he was not safe in Konoha either. All that was keeping him alive was the possibility that Itachi would betray Konoha if something happened to him. And even if he didn't know this, he had noone supporting or protecting him, no reason to feel safe there either. He was completely alone.

Thank you for the ask, anon. Take care!

[dapg-otmebytheballs]

hi!!

i don’t feel right putting my opinion here as i am white and from the us so im not even close to the demographic of people you’re talking about, but i just wanted to say i like reading your posts!

now i don’t know everything that dan and/or phil has said, but i do think it’s important to realize the context

i really do wish they were going to other countries, as it does suck that they aren’t able to see everyone, but i’m also sure they have a valid reason for not, whatever that reason may be…i can’t see them deliberately avoiding other countries just cause there’s “better” options (not saying there are better options i just couldn’t think of another word hehe)

i feel very privileged to be in a place financially (barely) and geographically to see it

i don’t think it’s that outlandish to say that they’ll do something to attempt to make up to the people who couldn’t see it, but i know it won’t be as good as it should be, which isn’t fun

also, i will agree that i don’t like the arguments of other countries not accepting of gay rights, as there’s not much weight there. not only do gay people live there too, but they’ve been to japan three different times. they love it there, and while there’s other countries that are definitely worse when it comes to queer rights, gay marriage isn’t legal there and they obviously know that

jesus christ i yap so fucking much i apologize

tl;dr, i completely understand what your saying, and while calling them “racist” is a little harsh, i definitely understand that not going to other places is not ideal and wish they are able to be more inclusive to everyone

i know they’re touring cause they love it, especially dan, and that going everywhere is impossible, but that does not mean that people can’t complain about them not going over to where they live

i’m sorry this is so long, i just can not stop typing ffs

<3

Hey! So yeah again as I've said many times but feel the need to reiterate: what originally started the discussions from poc and particularly non western blogs was that they have made disparaging remarks particularly to do with tours like come to brazil type remarks and then not taken time to add on like, one line or anything somewhere about not touring in entire continents.

Also obviously we don't think they aren't visiting because they think we're lower to them or whatever, and I'd say you'd be hard pressed to find a post on my blog that says that. Seriously, try it, no implications of the sort have been made, we are just saying it's clear that they've never felt the need to makeup for past mistakes either, and then the phandom defends them each time and all of that together feels very alienating, especially when western fans talk down to us constantly and feel the need to tell us to chill out or whatever and make it out to be that the tour is the primary issue

It isn't! This isn't about the tour!!! The tour was the latest thing that sparked the discussions again because some people, especially LATAM fans who have microagressed So Often, were understandably thinking "seriously they aren't gonna say anything about it?"

And again, I will ask that you try because you'll be hard pressed to find a post on my blog where we day dnp "are racists". My previous ask to this also explains this but just because someone "isn't racist" doesn't mean that when they do racist things we don't call those things "racist behaviours". Racist microagressions are still racist even when coming from goody two shoes progressives. Please understand this and don't get defensive over the language, it's a humble request

And if I may for anyone else looking to talk with me about this in any way, please please stop bringing up the tour with me. I don't care about the tour, I promise you I do not care about the tour, you can talk with me about the other stuff but I've just said it in almost every post I've made: I Do Not Care About Them Not Touring Here, it's small fucking potatoes and it's more western fans' defensiveness and racist remarks while trying to defend them for no reason that are Far Far more of a problem racism (and orientalism) wise than DnP not talking about the tour yet, I don't carrrreee About that I care about what you all are directly saying to US which is more hurtful

I hope this clears stuff up for you and others, again, no hard feelings whatsoever, you were genuinely reaching out and I appreciate that ❤️

[masakuterarr]

Hello! Hope you don't mind but back again with the rambles! I think your blog au probably doesn't have a Kurapika, but I think it'd be fun to have a more innocent twist to it in this universe. I can see Kurapika, Gon, Killua, and Leorio having their own blog in this universe and being "rivals" of the PT with them having friendly rivalry collabs. How did it start? The PT overshadowed Kurapika's old channel and got more subscribers than him, leading to the channel dying before he started another blog back up with his new friends. The Uvo vs Kurapika fight? In this universe, he beats him at smash bros on stream and now the PT has made it their mission to defeat Kurapika on Smash Bros to defend Uvogin's honor.

First of, don't worry I love these rambles! 🤍 Tho I gotta break it to you, really sorry, but we already implied them in a really innocent way. Starting with Leorio, he just a guy, a nurse working in Cheadles clinic in California. Uvo once met him randomly, during his first year of vlogging and traveling the world, in a fff bar. Just to then 2 years later meet him as his nurse in Cali. (their faces were priceless).

Killua Gon, well. Gon idk. He just a guy. Killua is the nephew of Feitan. So Sometimes the entire PT house travels over to visit them in China (I think it was China, @monosanimegenericzone pls correct me if I am wrong) So Kill does know them as the cool uncles. Small addition, Alluka ff loves them too. Espeically Uvo, he big bro for her.

Kurapika now is hella fun of a story actually. Uvogin was traveling around and found a random village that was living really upfar from others. And he befriended Kurapika there. Then they had like some shit weather conditiosn going on or so- so Uvo helped them out with rebuilding some stuff, which took like 5 or 7 days and uvo did not text anyone else during the time. Meanwhile Shal was having mental breakdown at home cuz he tries to call and message Uvo but Uvo wouldnt answer.

Which is why this doodle exists

Kurapika beating the shit out of Uvo in smash bros sounds hella fun to me tho... I am honest 🤔

[violetmuses]

Roman Reigns + Correspondent!Reader (Finale) 🖤

Fandom: WWE

Character: Roman Reigns

@expert-texpert @persethegawd @episodes-ff @adriennegabriella @fearlesschimera @secretlifeoofmarpessa @mytribalnightmare @adoresmiles @blackgurlnhermoods @babybratzmaraj 🏷

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Special Request

====

2024

Welcoming kisses, Roman grounded your footsteps and truly smiled before making his plate.

“I'll be right back. It's probably my neighbors looking for treats again.” You armed baked goods and headed out of the kitchen.

Checking that peephole once though, you realized something different.

Shit!

“What's going on?” Jey stepped forward and you turned around, almost scared.

“CM Punk is here.” Your kind voice nearly shook with the truth.

Damn. Jey gritted frustration without ever scaring you.

“Do me a favor and just go upstairs for a little while. One of us will bring some food after we get Punk out of here. Aight?” Jey no longer smiled, quietly fuming.

“Okay.” You nodded, but Jimmy, Sami and Roman determined your sadness.

“Hey. What happened, baby?” Roman nearly scrunched up his face, concerned.

“Punk is waiting outside.” You quickly pulled emotions together.

“What?” While Jey guided you upstairs, Roman fumed within.

______

When Punk crossed one main threshold of your house, Jimmy, Jey, Sami and Roman stood to protect that space.

“What are you doing here? I told Wiseman not to. invite you.” Ro knew better.

“Paul didn't ask me to come here, Roman.” Punk defended himself.

“Then who?” Roman spoke up, yet Jimmy and Jey looked out. Even Sami Zayn waited for more.

“No one else.” Punk cleared his throat and sighted Roman once more.

“Listen right now.” Roman stepped forward. “I kept a very good mood before you showed up, but if you don't leave my angel's house in the next five seconds, we're going outside, match or not.”

“I'm not lying. We saved each other at the match and kept your title.” Punk shook his head.

“Get out or we'll have problems.” Roman quickly pointed. “I won't repeat myself a third time, either.”

“Don't fight me yet. All right? There's a match scheduled on New Year's Eve and I found out after we finished the press conference.” No longer hiding the truth, Punk revealed this bombshell.

What the hell? Everyone froze.

****

The next day, Roman stepped up to handle this unexpected situation.

“What's going on?” Ro sat with higher-ups for the meeting. “Punk showed up out of nowhere last night and y'all didn't even tell us about the new match.”

One leader had spoken up. “We've changed the schedule.”

“I don't think you understand.” Roman kept talking. “Someone showed up to my best friend's home unannounced. And now you're telling me that a match will line up on New Year's Eve?”

“I'm sorry.” The leader apologized.

“I'm not joining anything without paperwork.” Ro defended himself once more. “Are you just messing with us right now?"

“No.” Leadership confirmed the truth as attorneys entered the room.

Here we go. Roman thought.

*****

“Welcome ladies and gentlemen! For the first time ever, Midnight Madness is here.” Announcers pulled introductions as fans cheered during this special event.

Lights flickered through the large-scale arena as Roman Reigns emerged alone. Heroically ominous music carried his Tribal Chief persona.

Secondary music hadn't arrived to reveal his true opponent yet. Here, everyone mumbled with questions as darkness still captured this venue.

When the space brightened in all directions, you stood directly across from Roman while holding this microphone and offered an adorable smile.

Thousands of people shrieked and joyful cheering nearly erupted when Roman looked at you.

“We gon’ fight? I thought you loved me, Sweetheart.” Subtitles caught his jokes.

You don't play along with games, even when his beautiful lips would almost pucker toward you for kisses. The fans just screamed beyond words.

“Tribal Chief?” You always respected his leadership.

Despite staying in character, Roman just can't believe your outfit. You looked so good tonight, but his focus would mean everything on camera

“Yes, Ma'am?” His strong voice had leveled enough for you.

“I know who your opponent will be tonight.” You continued speaking and thousands shouted in anticipation.

“I'm all ears.” Ro pulled up the Big Dog attitude.

Clearing your throat, you stood prepared to make this announcement.

“Tonight's opponent is the undisputed WWE Champion, The American Nightmare: Cody Rhodes!” You revealed the big surprise.

“My goodness! Cody Rhodes will battle Roman Reigns in time for the new year.” Commentators raved.

You smiled just before Cody's encouraging song woke up the galaxy tonight:

Adrenaline, in my soul.

Every thought out of control.

Do it all to get them off their feet.

Crowd is here, about to blow.

Waitin' for me to start the show.

Out the curtain, lights go up, I'm home

(Whoa!)

And my father said, when I was younger.

Hard times breed better men. (Better men!)

You took it all away, I give it all away.

Can't take my freedom.

Here to change the game, a banner made of pain.

I built my kingdom!

Now you bow to me.

You took my dreams, but not my name.

You'll follow me until the end.

I am my kingdom!

Fireworks sparked around Cody as he waved to fans and stepped to the ring with his microphone.

“Here we go, again.” Cody almost smiled while greeting the event.

“Don't get arrogant. Wrestlemania was fair, but tonight will be different.” Roman wanted power back, especially with you here.

“Are you sure?” Cody went on. “As valiant as your words seem tonight, grit never challenges perseverance.”

“Look. Who's standing next to me now?” Roman gestured by you and the crowd screamed.

Quietly shifting emotions to become this televised persona, you stepped forward.

Fans yelled out loud when cameras recognized the iconic smirk that reached your face.

“Uh-oh! The Detective is here.” Commentators remarked on this change in atmosphere when your character “arrived” without pulling gimmicks.

“Be very careful. This is my best friend.” Roman grounded the importance of you standing with him.

“I know.” Cody would pull more strings this time around. “But aren't you tired?”

“What?” Roman scrunched up his face. Confusion even darkened the audience.

“Stop holding the crown.” Cody advised. “Let someone else move forward.”

“I'm not giving up. Never.” Roman closed this segment, but you noticed something different before the commercial break would start.

Ringside, Jimmy and Jey grinned while standing together. Your mind spun.

“Oh, what's going on? Roman's cousins Jimmy and Jey Uso are standing by the ring at this moment.” Commentary updated viewers.

“Excuse me, but Roman has an important question for you.” Cody smiled near your path again.

Before you could ask Roman anything, this man reached into his pocket and knelt, bringing the place toward an absolute frenzy of excitement.

Breaking character, you blinked through tears and covered your face, finally understanding why Joseph “planned” your time at this luxurious nail salon before everyone could shoot the episode.

“Joe!” Holding your heart, you can't think straight when his gorgeous smile brightened and fans cheered even louder than before.

“We met here.” Joseph offered his truth and declared happiness. “You changed everything for me right here. I've stood on my own, but we're a team and I am so proud to be yours. Will you marry me, baby?”

Somehow, the large venue nearly silenced as fans waited to hear your response.

“Yes!” Nodding feverishly, you sniffled through happiness and accepted forever, jumping into his arms after Joseph slipped the engagement ring onto your finger.

“Forever has begun! Congratulations to the happy couple. We'll return to the program after these messages.” Commentary raved once more and you smiled against Joe's lips while commercials started.

_____

“I'm kicking his ass and then we'll go home.” Joe chuckled backstage while getting ready for the match.

“Deal.” You nearly giggled.

“C'mon.” Joe smiled again. “Let's get this over with before I get distracted. The ring is blinding me.”

Everyone almost cackled before timing signaled the match for good.

*****

“You know what just happened.” Roman channeled truth and nearly growled through smack talk. ‘Don't embarrass me in front of my wife.”

“I love her too, y'know?” Cody taunted. “Your loss won't be embarrassing. It'll look beautiful.”

“I'm done talking.” Roman spoke up to reveal cinematic anger.

“The Tribal Chief has landed one brutal Superman Punch to Cody!” Announcers jumped up. “Tonight could mark the easiest win of Roman's career.”

“Let Reigns win, Cody! He's getting married for goodness sake.” Another commentator shouted.

Catching each second, you kept watching the battle upfront and noticed when Roman opened both arms after leaning back against the rings.

Spear. You know his ending like the back of your hand.

Ooh-wa!

In sync with your fiancé, you raised both arms and shouted directly to the ceiling, yelling with thousands of people as Roman charged forward.

“Ladies and gentlemen, here is your winner, The OTC - Roman Reigns!” This announcement pulled one last time before Roman skipped the ring and found you, spinning this joyful moment for a kiss.

Credits rolled as fireworks erupted and you cried in Joseph's arms, grateful.

[goblins-riddles-or-frocks]

I hate hateee how SJM books have become the face of ya to a lot of people and how popular Rhysand has become. He is literally the blandest fucking character anyone has ever written in history ffs. There is nothing going on there NOTHING. He is literally empty!! What is it that people find so appealing about him???

I am so fucking angry that you are going to make me defend Rhysand. but now I guess I’m going to defend Rhysand :/

First of all, I do think his original concept works! He was one of two characters I liked reading the first book. (Extremely relative, I did not have a good time reading ACOTAR)

He has nearly a Spike esque role in the story. He’s a minor antagonist with very little personal power, who gets to be smarmy and sleazy and gross. He’s genuinely introduced as like a cruel, ruthless murderer. And it’s shocking when he helps Feyre. It’s unclear what his motives are, and there’s always just enough malice when he does help her that he’s still not someone she can trust or even like at all.

Meanwhile, I despised the execution wrt how he got cleaned up and turned into a main love interest. But the bait and switch with him and Tamlin is like credibly done. And it takes an entire second book of pining before he actually gets together with Feyre. And like the execution is soooo fucking twee and annoying but I get the fantasy behind “Protagonist feels alienated from her loved ones after trauma. Similarly traumatized love interest understands this and is equipped to help her through it” the main SJM pitfall is that, past that first book, she cannot bear to write this guy with any perceived failing, flaw, or weakness and everyone has to be obsessed with him at all times, and he has to be the picture of so called like…feminist masculinity. (lol!!!!) But for a lot of genre romance readers that is a feature not a bug. So I get where the popularity comes from.

Meanwhile, having read so many GODAWFUL rip offs, I do unfortunately have to hand it to SJM in terms of like. doing the bare fucking minimum to make the dynamic work. We aren’t told that Rhysand invented feminism from day one! That’s a realization that gets built up to. Feyre doesn’t immediately drop Tamlin like a hot potato the moment she meets this guy. Their relationship does actually take time to develop and for them to form a dynamic. The bar is in fucking hell, to be sure, but I mean look at what the genre romance scene looks like 😭😭😭

Anyway, I do actually think it would’ve been very very easy to rehabilitate ACOTAR era Rhysand and make him into a main LI without… all the SJMisms. but again, feature not a bug for a lot of people who are into romantasy

Edit: I do need it to be known tho that if I could isekai into any fictional world I would personally go in and kill Rhysand with hammers. Like top ten characters I want to see fucking drawn and quartered. I can not overstate my vitriol here! do not get me wrong!!

[tomorrowusa]

Quit fixating on Putin's nukes FFS.

Donald Trump and his MAGA minions are trying to imply that aid for Ukraine will lead to nuclear war. This is bullshit which is meant to bolster Putin's illegal war of aggression against a peaceful neighbor.

We hear MAGA Russophiles repeat this whenever new aid or new weapons systems are sent to Ukraine. The last time I checked, Putin hasn't nuked San Diego or Memphis. And we have crossed more of Putin's "red lines" than Trump has red neckties.

Even a delusional imperialist like Vladimir Putin understands that the ultimate outcome of any nuclear war would leave him as a shirtless congealed blob of radioactive fat. ⚛

With nuclear option unlikely, Putin struggles to defend his red lines

“There has been an overflow of nuclear threats,” said a Russian official speaking on the condition of anonymity because of the sensitivity of the subject. “There is already immunity to such statements, and they don’t frighten anyone.” A Russian academic with close ties to senior Russian diplomats agreed, calling the nuclear option “the least possible” of scenarios, “because it really would lead to dissatisfaction among Russia’s partners in the Global South and also because clearly, from a military point of view, it is not very effective.”

The United States and its NATO allies have no intention of giving nukes to Ukraine.

What we don't hear from scare-mongering MAGA zombies or Putin-friendly tankies is that the war in Ukraine would end immediately if the Russian invaders simply left Ukraine. Anybody who truly wants peace should be telling Russia to get the fuck back to their own country.

This week, Trump and former independent presidential candidate Robert F. Kennedy Jr. wrote in an op-ed for the Hill that a decision to grant Ukraine permission to use Western long-range missiles “would put the world at greater risk of nuclear conflagration than at any time since the Cuban missile crisis” and called for direct negotiations with Moscow instead.

The only thing to "negotiate" with Moscow is a short ceasefire while Russia withdraws all its invading troops. The bottom line is that Russia has no business in Ukraine. The invasion is in violation of numerous international laws, treaties, and memoranda.

As for technology, Russia's means of using ICBMs in nuclear war just ain't what it used to be.

Latest Russian ICBM Test May Have Failed, Satellite Images Suggest

Russia is a third-rate power which happens to have nukes and a lot of empty territory that looks deceptively impressive on a map. Its ability to handle any atomic technology competently is questionable. Even during the glory days of the Soviet Union it gave the world its worst nuclear disaster at Chernobyl in 1986.

Chernobyl is in northern Ukraine which became independent in 1991. Ukrainians had done a good job of cleaning up much of the radioactive mess left by Moscow.

But Russia then temporarily occupied the area around Chernobyl in the early part of the invasion. Russian occupiers there did incredibly stupid things like dig military trenches in radioactive soil and loot radioactive materials to take home as souvenirs.

Russia has few serious competitors for the Darwin Awards this year. 🎖  ⚛️

What we should worry more about is another nuclear accident inside Russia caused by recklessness or incompetence. The sooner Ukraine is victorious, the more likely Russia will be able to tend to its own problems at home.

^^^ красные линии = red lines

[justjams2003]

Fast Pace- 13

Am I being mean by releasing the last 3 chapters week for week? Maybe just a bit 🤭

Summary: You're a hard-working Chef in Paris and after a freak accident run-in with Carlos Sainz, your life makes a 180. Let's just say with a certain agreement, you get your bills paid and in return stand in as Carlos' girlfriend for the press. But will you be able to handle the pressure and ensure the lines don't blur?

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Carlos Sainz x Sugar Baby!Reader

Warnings: I've aged up Carlos, he is 33 in this fic. Smoking, smut, sexual themes, age difference, manipulation, control, slight obsession, the word 'daddy', nudity, a garbage family, family trauma, disowning, tell me if I missed any

Taglist: @httpjeonlicious, @f1lov3r, @messersandmesses, @hollie911, @oriconde08 @thehufflepuffavenger1 @fanboyluvr @thatgirlmj @whyamireadingthis @oriconde08 @depressedriches @roseseraj @skepvids @sain55wifey @distinguishedvoidlady @amatswimming @sachaa-ff @lightdragonrayne @lazybot @formula1mount @fangirl-dot-com @saintslewis @carlossainzwho @lordpercevalcharles @topguncultleader @kitixie @serp3ns0rtiae @hangmandruigandmav @therealone4r @keii134 @dark-night-sky-99 @jax-the-oregonian @hachrinnen

Word count: 3,2k

Masterlist

Part 12 ~Part 14 (coming soon)

“Elle dort profondément, la journée a été longue.” Y/N’s brother and parents both look up at me in shock. I can’t help but laugh at their expressions. We’ve been here three days and if it weren’t for her family, it would be idyllic.

We’ve gone hiking in the beautiful mountains, she’s shown me all around her hometown. She has so many memories here, a lot of them good, but when I hear the things her mother says to her, I can’t but wonder if she’s sugar coating some of it.  

“What? You didn’t think that me, a million-dollar man who travels the world every day, with a French teammate, wouldn’t speak French? Not even a little?” I can only sigh at their foolishness; I see now why my sweet girl is so easy to...shape. Luckily for her, she has me and no one would dare hurt her with me around. Her family, however, after what I’ve seen they don’t get the same lenience.  

 I sit down on the table, “Tell me, how much do you want?” If I was some old-timey villain I would take out my checkbook and write some obscure numbers with lots of zeros. Her brother furrows his brows, “How much of what?”

I chuckle, I thought at least he would be smarter, I guess not. “Money. How much do you want to never speak to Y/N ever again?” Her mother scoffs and begins rambling about just how important she is to her.  

“Look, you’re a terrible influence on my precious girl. You make her feel terrible about herself after I spent all that time convincing her otherwise. Now, we can do as normal families do and only see each other on the holidays. Even then, it’s going be exhausting for her. So, why don’t we just take a short cut? How much money for you to kick her out of your life, permanently?” Her brother looks appalled and disgusted.  

His fist goes to find my jaw, but I catch his hand before he even comes close. “Be serious, you might be a rough and tough city farm boy, but I’ve spent years of my life practising my reflexes.” I take him by his shoulders and shove him back down in his chair. “How much will it be, mom, dad? Fifty thousand, a hundred thousand, or shall we go into the millions?” Everyone goes quiet at the numbers I’m talking of.  

“See? That wasn’t so hard? Now, Cash or Card?”  

“They’re so unbelievable! You know what, no, I’m glad that they did this. She’s been nothing but a cruel bitch all my life. Now that I’m happy, she hates it.” She screams into the phone, she’s standing next to the bathroom trying to get some distance from other people.

“No, I don’t care if they’re my family, who says that to someone?” She scoffs, likely she’s talking to Jasmine and Ilsa, I know Alex and Kika would defend me.  

She’s angry, a wrinkle in a brow and I just want to make it all go away. Maybe even, I’ll have to get rid of those two friends as well. They’re not good for her either. “I know I’ve only known him for a month and a half, but it’s been the best few weeks of my life! It’s been better than anything I’ve had with that fucked family of mine. And the fact that you two can’t see that, really shows me something about you two.”  

Her footsteps are loud on the floor of the plane. She throws her phone on the seat and plops herself down in my lap. Instantly her head finds the crook of my neck and her small hand takes fists full of my shirt. She pulls me as close as possible to me and wrap my arms around her. This is where she belongs, nowhere else but in my arms.  

 Her whole-body shakes as sobs make its way through her. “No te preocupes, mi dulce niña. Estoy aquí para ti. No importan, sólo estamos tú y yo. Just you and me. You have me now, you don’t need them.” I soothe her cries, rubbing circles on her back as she mumbles on about how awful they are and how evil they’re being.

I know it’s better for her in the long run, but it hurts my heart to see her like this. Hurting. At the same time, having her cling to me as if I am her lifeline is a feeling I can’t help but savour.  

“Carlos, where are we going?” A sigh escapes me. “Singapore, for the next race. But I have to talk to you about it.” She raises her head; she has these big doe eyes that has this melting effect on me. Yet at the same time, it makes the khaki’s I’m wearing tighter than I’d like it to be. “This is going to be the hardest race of the year. For the rest of the week until at least Friday, I’m going to be very busy with very hard training.”  

I know for a fact that this is the worst time possible to leave her alone. Right now, I need to be with her every moment. She has to be with me and no one else otherwise my whole plan will be for nothing. I have to be the only one comforting her, if not she’ll think that she can rely on others. My sweet thing whines at the realisation and goes to hide her face again but I stop her before she does.  

“I know, I’m sorry. But, I really don’t want to leave mi dulce niña alone, no?” She shakes her head, wiping her tears with the same hoodie I’d given her at the very beginning. I might have blasted the AC, just to see her wear it again. I know it gives her comfort and she just looks like a doll with it on. So small and so cute, I feel as if the love is oozing from my heart.  

“Now, we have one of two options. It’s not too late, we can still turn this plane around. Get you a nice, big apartment somewhere in France.” She stops me before I can even continues.

“No, I don’t ever want to see that damn country ever again. What if I see one of them again? I’d much rather live on the streets.” I can’t help but smirk, taking her small hands into mine.  

“I thought so. What about somewhere in Madrid? Why don’t you move in with me?” Her eyes go even bigger and bites down on that puffy lower lip of hers. I adjust her to sit on my other leg, the friction between us making me rock hard. Soon after, her eyes avoid mine. Her eyebrows pull together and I can’t help but reach up and smooth the crinkle in her forehead. 

So much seems to be running through her mind, and it shouldn’t be. Things should be easy for her, look pretty and be my pet. That should be the end of it. But this world can be so heartless and make the important people in our lives hurt. “Tell me, mi niña bonita, what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”  

She sighs and then gives me those big doe eyes again. This time they’re all puffy from crying, and she looks just as beautiful as the day I met her. “Daddy, I don’t want to leave your side.”

Her words are like lava through my body. I take her chin and give her a kiss on her cheek. “I know, baby, but what other option is there? Follow me everywhere I go? You’ll get bored, I’m sure.” She doesn’t hesitate and shakes her head.  

“No, no, I promise. I’ll be good.” This would be more perfect than any other option. Having her by my side for the whole world to see. “I don’t know, cosas dulce,” it’s mostly just an act, I want her to beg. “Please Daddy, please?” She jumps ever so slightly on my lap and I can’t help but holding her waist to keep her still, not knowing how much longer I can hold out. Especially when she’s like this.  

Y/N takes her small hands and hold my face. Then she places a kiss on my cheek, then the other. I take her petite hands in mind. “Oh, alright, but no whining missy.” I hold out my hand, showing how stern I am. But she wraps her fingers around mine and gives me the biggest brightest smile. “You know I can’t say no to you.”  

“Carlos?” I had just finished pretty extensive training for the race. The whole gym room’s heat is all the way up to 30 Degrees Celsius, sweat is dripping off me. My hair is wet, luckily my girl gave me one of her headbands to keep my hair out of my face.

I could see her eyeing me the whole time. I couldn’t bare the heat much long, and just had to take my shirt of. Or maybe it was tactical to get her attention, nobody will ever know.  

“Yes, mi querido?” She gets up from her seat, discarding her phone which she had been so engulfed in before. Her hips sway, she too is sweating and is wearing the smallest little shorts I’ve seen in a while. It entrances me, every time she walks, the way her legs move. The way those tiny shorts sits a way below her naval. Showing off what all the boys are missing out on.  

Y/N makes her way over to me, her fingers dancing on my shoulder. “No, mi cosa bonita, you don’t want to touch me. I’m sweaty and smelly.” She scoffs and wraps her arms around my neck. “You’re saying that like I care.” I can’t help but chuckle at her attitude. Yes, last week changed her, but so far it’s for the better. My hands find her hips, “You’ve been looking so good lately, cosas dulce.”  

Her laugh alights my whole body. “You’ve been using that one a lot lately, I’ll have to google it,” I pretend to wince at her words. “No, cosas dulce, I might get in trouble.” Now she really does laugh, throwing her head back like she does when she’s comfortable. “Why do you laugh?” She shakes her head, “You, Mister Sainz, could never get in trouble with me. You’ve been nothing but perfect.”  

I pull her closer to me, our hips touching the other. “Is that so? I’ll have to hold you up to that.” I can’t help but place kisses all over her bare neck. “Except right now.” My heart rises and I’m just glad the monitors aren’t on.

Has she found out? No, no it can’t be. If she did, she’d be a lot more upset. Or would she? Would she be happy that I did it? Relief to get rid of them and have them well cared for at the same time. She doesn’t look happy now, but she doesn’t look to upset.  

“I’m scrolling through Instagram, right, only to see an edit about you. Guess my surprise that I found out through an Instagram reel that I missed your birthday!” Oh yes, that, is that really all? I can’t help but laugh at how serious she is. “You didn’t miss it; we did celebrate it.” Her eyebrows furrow, “What do you mean?” I love the way her long hair sways to the side when she’s confused.  

“Your fashion show, after the shopping trip. It was more than enough of a present for me. Not to mention you got the sunglasses, with our initials on them.” She scoffs and rolls her eyes.

“You keep calling me hardheaded, but you can be even more dense than me.” I laugh, she can be so complex. Switching from soft and needing to be held one moment, to sassy and chatty the next. I love every moment.  

A hum escapes me, “Aren’t you brave, talking to me like that, cosas dulce?” She ignores my words and carries on. “It doesn’t count as a birthday gift, if I didn’t even know it’s your birthday.” I sigh, seeing now that she’s going to be persistent on this. “That’s why I love it so much. You gave me a gift without even knowing. Call it something poetic, like our souls just knowing, or something simple. Like the kindness you give me that no one else does.”  

She pushes out her bottom lips and her eyes go all big again. “Carlos, that’s really beautiful.” She pulls me down by the neck and gives me a kiss on the cheek. Oh, how I cherish those. I remember each and every one. “But, at least allow me to make you dinner tonight.” I don’t want her going through all the trouble, or making too much of a fuss.  

“Don’t bother, cosas dulce. There’s no point in celebrating. 34 Years and I spent most of them racing, to no avail. A team that fucks me over, another year with no win and still no championship behind my name. And the rookies are getting younger and younger, and better and better. I’m sure I’ll lose my seat in a year or two and after that, it’s retirement for me.”

I didn’t mean to spill out all my thoughts just like that. But when she looks at me with those eyes, I wan’t to tell her everything.  

She cooes and pulls me tight in her arms. “Don’t talk like that. I’m sure you want our kids to see you race at least once.” What? She surprises me again and again. This is good, very good. She’s seeing what I see. Our goals are aligning. Before long I’ll have her all to myself. “You mean it?” Her smile lights up the room and my life.  

“Of course, now give me your card. Brutis, Otis and I are going grocery shopping.” That’s my girl. No longer afraid to ask. “You know where it is, cosas dulce.”  

I can hear music blasting through the hotel room, along with my girl screaming the lyrics at the top of her lungs, like always. She’s dancing and swaying to the music. Her hips move in ways that entice. But the most attractive thing about her, is that she looks as happy as can be. Pure joy radiates off her like the sun’s rays. Nothing is as beautiful as her delight and I just need to be a part of it.  

I scoop her up in my arms and place her on the first open space on the counter. She breaks out in giggles, “Aren’t I glad you’re feeling better,” she mutters between laughs as I make marks all over her neck and shoulders.

“How can I not with such a beauty in my arms?” She blushes and still giggles as my scruff tickles her. But soon she gently pushes me away, not far, by the chest. Her hands there is like fuel to my engine. Sparking my whole body to keep her here, trapped.

“You’re just in time,” she smiles jumping off and plating the food she had made. “I made Fideuà.” At just the mention, memories of my childhood come rushing back. Big Christmas family dinners, with lots of people. Kids running around, screaming with delight, as people laugh and drink lots of wine. “Ah, mi amor, now you are bringing back some good memories, no?”  

Y/N’s smile is big as she hands me the plate and pours some white wine. The first bite is perfect, the taste of fish explodes in my mouth. After it’s the texture of the pasta and the hint of Saffron.

“Wow, I must say, mi amor, this is as good as Mama’s.” This makes her smile as wide as ever. “Really, you mean it? You’re not lying?” There are some slight differences, but it’s incredibly hard to notice. I shake my head no.  

“It’s almost identical.” She blooms with joy and her cheeks are just so faintly red. “Caco sent me the recipe from your mom.” I should have known. “My, my, already in kahoots with my family.” I pull her into my lap as we both enjoy our dinners. “Speaking of, mi amor, I want you to meet my family. And I know you still feel unsure about moving in with me. But if you meet my parents and see the city...”  

Her gaze is stuck on her dinner as she just moves the shrimp around. “I’ll meet your parents, but I won’t promise you anything.” That’s good enough. That’s more than good enough.  

Xxxx  

There is a blazing heat through the paddock. Everyone is sweating and I can only imagine Carlos must be so uncomfortable in his racing suit. Boiling hot, you can see his hair is sweating but you know he won’t wear his headband in public.

It’s a maybe five minutes until they play the national anthem. Yet still through the flurry of everything and everyone he still makes his way towards where you stand with Caco in the garage.  

He hands you his drink, with the weird tube and everything, clearly given to him by Rupert. “Here, it’s very hot, remember to drink a lot of water.” You sigh and take him by the race suit.

“Carlos. Your race starts in twenty mintues, you shouldn’t be bothering yourself with me.” He clicks his tongue. “Siempre tan testarudo,” you sigh, you’ve googled it before and he says it so much that you know he’s calling you hardheaded.  

“Carlos!” The people call out his name, they could get a penatly if he misses the song. “I’m coming! Caco, asegúrate de que bebe mucha agua.” He speaks to his cousin, who agrees. He goes to leave but you grab him by his suit and pull him back. His lips fit perfectly onto yours. He pulls you close by the waist, his other hand rake deep into your hair.  

He kisses you back with such passion. Like a fire lighting between you two. Your soul finally finds rest. You’ve been wanting this for weeks and now you’re finally taking it for yourself. And you can tell by the way he holds you and pulls you closer that this is what he’s wanted. He’s been yearning for it just as much as you have.  

Finally, when there is no air left in your lungs you’re forced to break apart. “I’ll move in with you.” His whole body comes alive with joy. “Really?” His smile is wider than I’ve ever seen before. “Yes really, now go before Ferrari fine me themselves!”  

Hollywood Life 

“Y/N Y/S/N’s content quality and quality raises, could she have gotten herself a full PR team?” 

Glamour 

“Fans are going crazy as the boost in Y/N Y/S/N’s conent shows new insight on her and her boyfriend Carlos Sainz’s life that’s never been seen before.”  

Page Six 

“Carlos Sainz and his girlfriend seem to be attached at the hip.”  

Us Weekly 

“People are freaking out over Carlos Sainz’s post race interview:  ‘The first non-Red Bull win of the season. What would you like to say?’  ‘I’d like to thank my girlfriend. She’s the reason for this trophy. I know I should be thanking the team, but I know they’d much rather have Charles win this. So, this is for her.’ 

E!News 

“Carlos Sainz and his girlfriend seen celebrating in a club with Lando Norris as the DJ.” 

People Magazine��

“Fans are swooning after a video of Carlos Sainz winking to his girlfriend on the first place podium surfaces.”  

My taglist is open, just ask! :)

[thisismeracing]

Can u do a dating headcanon for CL16 dating a Korean/Asian engineer in F1

CHARLES DATING A KOREAN GIRL | CL16

Warnings: mentions of food; tooth-rotting fluff; mentions of family members; not proofread.

A/n: Just a quick reminder that there are many shades, experiences, and backgrounds when it comes to korean people and their culture, what I am writing does not resume everything, but rather brings a piece of it to the table. <3

⁕ Reader is an engineer as requested, but it’s just one of the points of the headcanon, so it won’t be a problem if you’re not an engineer hehe <3

⁕ my masterlist and my taglist

Charles will use his language knowledge to his advantage and will learn Korean just to use it with you or right before meeting your family. They will love him even more for that because language is something that brings people closer.

He will love to hear you talk about your childhood and all the traditions that you use to participate in.

Charles says he is not a superstitious guy, but we know how he is with these things, so I bet he will take a liking to one or two Korean traditions of luck and fans will notice.

Speaking of which, fans love you, and they love to see how carefree and happy Charles looks with you.

He’ll take cooking classes to learn how to prepare your favorite traditional cuisines (and because he just loved Korean food and wants it all the time). And since food is something that has so much sentimental meaning behind it, this brings you guys even closer.

His phone lock screen is a picture of you wearing a hanbok.

Ooooh and he’ll talk about you being an engineer to everyone. Literally, everyone knows what you do because Charles always fails to keep his mouth shut about you.

You try to make it to every race, and whenever you do fans know that you won't hold back from pointing out Ferrari’s mistakes. You're usually very polite and kind, but when it comes to defending Charles you won’t be afraid of sounding rude because sometimes some people do deserve a push here and there.

Overall, it’s a great relationship. He’ll always ask to go with you whenever you go to Korea, and if he can’t he’ll ask you to bring something either a product that is harder to find outside of Korea or something he spent days searching on the internet (maybe a small little pendant, really just spontaneous things he takes a liking to).

― ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL:  If something sounded stereotypical or even slightly offensive, please let me know, and I’ll change it immediately. I hope you guys liked it *mwah*

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