#this show gave us emotional whiplash
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still haven't recovered

🐈 Kat knows me so well! Episode 9 healed so many wounds!!! It took everything in my power not to watch the teaser for next week, but I barely survived last week and I want to enjoy the warm fuzzies for a while.
#Fadel got to rest#Bison is home 😭#can't believe how much we love them#we'll adopt them all#this show gave us emotional whiplash#we are not normal about this#im not crying you are#the acting is so good#the heart killers#the heart killers the series#the heart killers series#the heart killers ep 9#fadelstyle#fadel x style#kantbison#kant x bison#thai bl#gmd post#gmd rambling#gmd dori#gmd twitter
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pretty babies – gojo satoru x f!reader


a/n: idk about yall but I love me some drunk gojo

satoru never drinks, but when he does, ohoho, you’re in for quite the ride.
today was one of the days when he was less of a chaotic handful but more of an emotional mess who apparently can’t even remember his own wife. you sip on your drink, ignoring the drunk satoru leaning on the bar.
he slurs his words as he tries to flirt, “you’re sooo pretty, y’know that?”
you nod with a hum and give him no further reaction. in situations like these, you figured out that letting him go all out until he is tired and sleepy is the best solution. it really is like treating a baby.
thankfully, after many years of being in the presence of one gojo satoru, you’ve built up some patience.
he rests his head on the counter and he looks up at you, eyes wide and in awe, “I bet,” he hiccups and it is followed by a silly little giggle, “we’d make superrrr cute babies! like all round and chubby and we’d much on their cheeks like…mochi! yes! mochi…now I am hungry.”
a smirk makes an appearance on your face as you glance at satoru who is blabbering about building a family with you and spoiling you rotten.
a little teasing won’t harm anyone. so you quip, “you know,” and his attention is already on you, “you already gave me three super cute babies.”
his mouth is wide open in disbelief as he sits up, “no way!”
“yup! and they’re waiting at home for us.”
his eyes crinkle because of his wide grin, “really?!” he pulls you into a bone-crushing hug, “you got photos?! please tell me that you do!” and he switches to a pout so quickly, it gives you whiplash.
however, you gladly pull out your phone and show him the multitude of photos you have.
ones ranging from him being in a crib to help the youngest one sleep to ones with two of the three kids ganging up on him and him desperately calling for your help. satoru goes through every single photo, head on your shoulder and cheek squished.
he is silent throughout it all and when he is done, he looks up at you, “so that means that you’re my wife?”
you nod and your fingers, naturally, find their place on his head. he feels a little shiver of satisfaction before he smiles, one lovesick and silly smile, “I really hit the jackpot.”
you laugh, pressing a kiss to the top of his head, “I guess you did.”
so you take him back home where the kids are already asleep. satoru crashes on the bed right away, steady breaths filling the room. slowly, you take your place beside him and you feel his arms wrap around you.
he pulls you closer and buries his face in your hair. and you close your eyes, letting yourself be lulled to the land of dreams.
when you do wake up, you’re greeted by satoru literally on top of you and deep in sleep. you would like to let him sleep more especially since he looks so comfortable, but you’re going to suffocate at this rate. so you pat his back lightly, “satoru, honey, wake up.”
he groans and buries his face in the crook of your neck, grumbling something along the lines of ‘five more minutes’.
not budging? then fine, you decide. you take as deep of a breath as you can then call for your kids, “who will help mama?!”
it’s quiet and you can feel satoru smirking against your skin. it looks like he won, but then a bunch of footsteps are heard and it’s your turn to smirk.
your husband lifts his head to glare at you—of course, not without sporting one of his famous pouts.
the door is then slammed open and your eldest son is there, “WHO DARES HURT OUR MAMA?!”
he gasps, very dramatically like a certain someone, and points at his dad, “PAPA?! you’re suffocating mama!”
“again?!” your daughter pops up from behind her brother, staring at her dad in disbelief.
they both stand beside your bed glaring at him and he glares back, the three of them forgetting why you called for your kids in the first place. so you do them a favor and remind them, “satoru…I AM GOING TO DIE LIKE THIS!”
satoru is pulled back by his shirt and your kids take turns in—trying—to beat him up. you get up, greedily breathing air till you’re satisfied. you ignore the screams of your husband until you’re done with your morning routine.
luckily enough, when you got out of the bathroom, you found no one except your husband.
laying on the ground.
presumably dead.
with a bunch of drawings on his face and his hair contained with multiple hair bands.
you snap a picture of him very quickly then you sit on the ground next to his corpse. you poke his butt and he groans, making you giggle, “what happened to the strongest sorcerer?”
he turns towards you with a small frown, “his pretty wife didn’t kiss him good morning so he had no energy to fight,” his head snaps towards the two tiny figures giggling behind the door, “these monsters.”
they squeal and run away once again before he catches them.
you gently take the hair bands off, “you’re lucky that our youngest devil is still asleep,” you then smooth down his hair and pat his head, “I love the smiley faces on your cheeks.”
he whines and rests his head on your shoulder, “stop bullying me!”
you hum and stroke his hair, “you know, you did something pretty cute yesterday.”
“I am always cute; what’re you talking about?”
“you flirted with me, your wife, and said we would make ‘super cute!’ babies,” you reveal and satoru seems unbothered. in fact, he seems proud and very happy with himself so you continue, “so I had to remind you of our three little devils and then I showed you pictures.”
he stands up, posing all confidently, “what can I say? I excel at everything even being cute—“
“then you cried like a little baby when I showed you my picture post labor and kept apologizing.”

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QUINN WORRIED ABOUT YOU AFTER AN ACCIDENT 😬😬😬😬😬😬😬😬
This one broke my heart to write. I'm sorry it took me longer than expected to finish.
CW | Car accident descriptions and injuries.
It had all happened so quickly; the literal blink of an eye.
You had the right of way but the driver in the other car never saw you. One minute you were excited for that evening's plans, and the next you were drifting between consciousness and not. The sounds of everything had been so loud that your ears were ringing to the point of near deafness. Both the driver's side and rear of the vehicle were crunched and crumpled inwards; all of the airbags had deployed throughout the interior. The whiplash from being hit had jerked your head so violently to the side there had been enough force to give you a concussion and the seatbelt would fracture your collarbone; your right foot and ankle were broken due to so much impact against the gas pedal they had snapped; your right knee would hit so violently against the center console it would tear your MCL.
All in a matter of seconds.
You were headed to the arena to watch the Canucks play at home. Now, you were headed to the hospital in an ambulance. Worst of it all, Quinn wouldn't know until the game was over that anything had happened to you. Once he got to the arena, he was off his phone until post-game and you, yourself, wouldn't want such news given to him mid-game anyway. However, right now, you weren't conscious enough to even have that worry.
The game would result in a Canucks win over the Oilers but that high-note to the night would come to a devastating end when one of the team's athletic trainers would break the news to Quinn. Pulled into the hall, following his post-game media interviews, Quinn would find himself unsure of how to process what he had been told. The trainer monitored his star player, taking in every subtle emotional que he'd show, but it was mostly just blank stares and shaky hands.
"Are you alright?" The trainer asked. "Can we do anything for you?"
"Uh...no-- no, I uh..." Quinn stuttered. He had processed what he had been told, but to make comment on it was proving impossible. "I've gotta...I need to--"
Noticing Quinn was trying to say he needed to go, the trainer filled in the blanks. "Let us know if there's anything you need, alright? Be safe getting there."
Quinn nodded before turning towards the dressing room. He'd nearly trip over his own feet in the process, catching himself on the wall behind him. Back inside the players room, Quinn said nothing to no one, kept his eyes down and tried to hurry yet everything he picked up he fumbled.
A few of the guys would notice their captain's change in demeanor but just watched on, because no sooner was Quinn in the room, he was out, and running and wouldn't stop until he was in his car.
He'd remain in a complete daze the whole drive to the hospital. Traffic was still congested around the arena and Quinn tapped nervously on the steering wheel, silently pleading for things to get moving.
"Ah, come on, come on, come on!" He said exasperated, his palms sweaty with anxiety.
Eventually, he'd fly into the parking lot, and make a break for the automatic doors of the hospital.
"May I help you?" Asked the woman behind the desk.
"My girlfriend was involved in a wreck this afternoon. I don't know her room number."
The woman eyed Quinn curiously. His hair was still wet with sweat, forehead still marked red from his helmet, and he was wearing the same clothes he wore beneath his gear. There simply hadn't been time to worry about changing. By now, the wreck had been near five hours ago, but he couldn't help when he had arrived or the state he was in. He gave your name and she scrolled through the directory to give him your room number.
"Second floor of the Pattinson building," she said, rattling off directions of how to get to the ICU building. Quinn retained some, but not all, of the twist and turns he needed to take and would have to get assistance in finally getting to you. Outside your recovery room, your mother sat talking to one of the nurses in charge. She'd nearly interrupt the nurse to get up and embrace Quinn without a second thought.
"Oh my god, Quinn! I'm so glad you made it!"
"How is she doing? What happened?" His voice cracked and was shaky.
"I don't know! She told me she was headed to the arena, then I got word that she had been in an accident. It's not good, Quinn. I mean, she's okay, but it was a really bad wreck. They had to cut the car apart to get her out!"
"I need to see her, may I?"
"She's awake now, yes." The nurse replied, Quinn having turned to her for the permission.
"Do you mind?" He asked your mother, and she gave her well-wishes with tears in her eyes. He'd give her another hug before quietly entering your room following her blessing.
"Quinn?" You said, your voice hoarse from the intubation tube and not above a whisper.
"Oh...baby," he choked out, not getting far into the room before his feet stopped moving. You looked so broken, laying there connected to all manner of machine and he hadn't begun to prepare himself before walking through the door.
Your vision was blurry from the concussion, but you knew his outline regardless of the double vision. Had you felt better, you would have lifted your arms to him, but every limb felt like it weighted one hundred pounds each. Instead, they'd remain by your side when he finally managed to approach you.
"Sweetheart, I'm-- I'm so--," he couldn't speak through the tears. He put his head against yours on the pillow, nuzzling against your temple as gently as he could. His weeping completely took away his ability to speak an audible word. As best as you could, you'd turn your face toward his, although minimal due to the neck brace.
You couldn't handle hearing him cry like that, in fact, you had never seen Quinn cry until now. His fingers didn't know where to go, not knowing if where he placed them to touch you would cause you pain so instead, they clawed into the mattress and sheets.
"Quinny?" You whimpered, struggling, being unable to reach out for him.
"I'm-- I'm here, I'm here," he managed, his lips grazing your cheekbone. Your skin was bruised and red from the airbags, and every time you took a breath it hurt. Your eyes finally locked on to one another's with Quinn finding it so hard to see you like this, and him being powerless to do anything for you. "I'm sorry I-- I'm sorry it took me so long to get here. Baby, I'm-- so sorry."
"It's not your fault. I'm just glad you're here now," you strained. Your throat felt like you hadn't had a drink in a week, but you had to talk to him.
His cheeks were flushed red and streaked with tears that continued to fall without end. All you wanted to do was reach up and wipe them away but lifting your arm was slow and he would stop you halfway through.
"No, no, baby, it's-- I'm okay," he shushed, gently coaxing you to return your arm back to where it had been. "Just-- just stay still, sweetheart."
Closing your eyes, you bit your bottom lip to try to keep from crying yourself. Your ribs hurt and crying would absolutely be too much to handle.
"I love you so much-- so, so much," he confessed, brushing some hair from your forehead. "I'm so sorry this happened to you! I wish I-- I wish I could have been-- there for you." He struggled again to speak, a hand pressed to his mouth to somehow stifle the emotions that were getting the better of him.
"I love you, Quinn."
"I don't want to imagine being without you, Y|N--! I'm so glad you're-- I'm so glad you're alright." He was struggling to take a breath now, gasping for small little breaths between breaks in his words. If only you could have embraced him.
"I'll be okay," you reassured, your eyes getting watery.
"No, no, please don't cry sweetheart," Quinn pleaded, seeing you tear up. "It's okay-- It's-- You're going to be okay. I'm going to take care of you, I promise."
Your mind was in a haze from pain meds and the trauma, but you remembered tonight's game would mark the beginning of a 3-game road trip for Quinn's team. "You're going to be gone."
"I could probably request leave," he said, struggling to regain his composure.
"I don't want you to do that. They need you." Talking was getting harder and harder for you do, but as long as he was there, you'd keep talking to him.
"Baby, you need me more!"
Your eyes pleaded for him to understand where you were coming from. "I don't know how long I'm going to be in here, Quinny. I just want to go home!"
"Shh, shh, baby, don't cry. Try to relax, please! This is the safest place for you right now. Trust me-- I wish you were home, too. I wish this had never happened." Quinn's eyes were so red as he frowned looking at you, smoothing your hair to calm you. No amount of his kind words or gentle touches were going to help you right now, not as long as you had to lay in that hospital bed and he had to leave you there. Soon, there was a knock at the door.
"I'm sorry, but we're nearing the end of visiting hours," the nurse said regrettably, seeing the state you were both in. "They resume tomorrow morning at 8am."
"I'll come see you in the morning before we fly out, okay?" He reassured you, a soft kiss placed on your forehead. "I promise."
You'd give him the faintest nod you could as silent tears marked your cheeks. "I love you."
"I love you so much more, sweetheart."
- - -
Quinn couldn't stay long the next morning. Your care had taken longer than was originally anticipated and he was forced to remain in the hallway until the nursing staff had finished what they needed to. When he was allowed in, he spent the entire time stroking your skin, almost like he had forgotten what you felt like beneath his fingers. He had missed your warmth in his bed, waking up beside you in the morning, and the sound of your voice in his apartment. Even though you had to spend long spans of time apart throughout the season, this hit so much differently. You were hurt, not yet out of the woods, and he couldn't be with you. Now he had to leave you for over a week and still remain focused on his job as if nothing had happened.
"Here, I brought you something," he said, trying to give you a reassuring smile. "That hoodie you always steal from me."
Struggling, you gripped it beneath your fingers as he laid it across your chest. You could tell he had sprayed it with that Dior cologne you had bought him for Christmas. "It smells like you. Thank you, baby."
"You're welcome," he smiled, kissing your bruised cheek. "Hopefully it gets you through till I get back."
"I don't want you to go," you whined, for good reason.
His smile faded quickly in a frown, fingers brushing hair away from your face, "I don't either. I talked to your mom this morning. She said if they released you before I got back, she's stay with you in the apartment. She said it would be too hard to take you back to their house because of all of the stairs."
You were thankful Quinn and your mother had such a good relationship. They meant the world to you, both of them, and it was going to take both of them to get you back on your feet.
Eventually, he had to leave, so to make it to the airport on time and it hurt worse to watch him go today than it had last night. You knew it was because you wouldn't be seeing him tomorrow.
"I'll call you every night, okay? Your mom said they recovered your purse from your car and she's going to bring it to you today."
"Oh, okay," you mumbled, your heart hurting from him starting his goodbyes. "Thank you."
He kissed you one more time, for as long as he could before finally having to be on his way.
"Please, be careful," you urged, your fingers curling around the fabric of his hoodie. "I love you, Quinn."
"I love you, too, sweetheart. And I will. I'll be extra careful, promise."
- - -
The ten or so days Quinn was away passed by so slowly. The video calls with him had been a blessing although anytime you had to say goodbye it had ripped open those emotional wounds all over again. Your mother had brought you home two days ago and it had been nice to be back in the bed you shared with him, now if only he was there with you. Currently, you were laying near the middle of the bed, tucked in with your foot propped up with a pillow. You had just had a light lunch and taken the pharmacy worth of pills that had been prescribed for your recovery. Soon, you'd be drifting off for a nap at around the same time Quinn would be returning home.
"I just got her asleep," your mom said after welcoming him.
"How's she doing?"
She looked down, her lips pursed. "It's been a slow go of it, if I'm being honest. That concussion turned out to be a lot more severe than they had originally thought which has made her sleep schedule a nightmare. She cries all the time, she doesn't want to eat, and the pain has given her an attitude at times. I know a lot of it is because she misses you. I know my daughter, Quinn."
He let a soft sigh escape his lips. He couldn't blame you for how you were feeling, he had just hoped to have better news to come home to.
"All of her meds and doctors instructions are on the counter. She won't need to take anything until dinner, aside from the pain pills. I'll warn you: she doesn't like to take them. She doesn't like how they make her feel, and she only really takes them if the pain gets unbearable."
"Okay, thank you. I appreciate everything you've done."
"Thank you, hon, truly. I'm happy she has you."
Once your mother left, Quinn locked the door, turned all the lights off and made his way to the bedroom. Quietly, he pushed open the door and leaned against the doorframe. Initially he smiled, but the longer he looked, the longer he was reminded of everything that had happened and the reason you were bed ridden. The neck brace was no more, but the bruises still remained, and the boot on your right foot and ankle. Your breathing was shallow when he walked over towards you, that's when he caught sight of you still clinging to that hoodie he had brought you like a security blanket. Carefully, he'd climb into bed and lay down facing you. His hand found your free one; his fingers trailing across your skin hoping to gently coax you from the faint sleep he hoped you had drifted off to.
"Sweetheart, can you hear me?" He whispered, placing a kiss to your shoulder. "I'm home, baby."
You managed a whimper, a sleepy kind of affirmation that you had heard something that had stirred you, but your eyes remained closed.
"Baby, it's me," he said again, this time his lips against your cheek.
After a few more seconds of his fingers against your body your eyes would blink open, a smile instantly appearing.
"Oh, Quinny!" you mumbled, lazily. "How long have you been home?"
"Just a little bit, I've been watching over you, but I got selfish. I wanted you to know I was here."
Lifting your hand, you reached for his face. His curls were in full force today, soft and something you had missed playing with. Something so simple as hearing him breathing you had missed. Quinn was finally home, and for a while this time.
"How are you feeling?" He asked, scooting closer to you. "I've missed you so much."
"I've missed you more," you quickly replied. "I feel like I'm probably expected to. Everything hurts, I can't move without pain, breathing still sucks. I had a coughing fit yesterday and I thought I was going to die."
"Oh sweetheart, I'm sorry. I was hoping you'd be feeling better."
"I'll get better now that you're home. I just wanted you to be here."
Quinn smiled, "Me, too, babe. Me too, but now we're both finally home. Everything is okay now."
You nodded as your eyelids felt heavy again. He'd give you another kiss, making sure you had everything you needed.
"I'm okay," you said, "I'm just tired."
"Then sleep, baby, you need it. I'll be right here, okay? I'm all yours. Anything you need, anything you want, just let me know and I'll get it for you. It's my turn to take care of you."
Quinn would drift off to sleep with you, your fingers interlocked as you slumbered. Although it was unfortunate you were still severely hurt, this was the only place he wanted to be. He wouldn't let you out of his sight for anything. He doted on you like a princess, making sure you wanted for absolutely nothing.
He was everything you could ever wish for.
#quinn hughes#quinn hughes x reader#quinn hughes x y/n#quinn hughes imagine#quinn hughes one shot#quinn hughes fanfiction#quinn hughes fic#hockey imagine#hockey fanfiction#hockey fic#💌maven's love notes
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Sneak Away
Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Fem! Sister-wife! Reader
Requested?: No
Summary: There's perks in knowing Maegor's tunnels, and Aegon makes the most of it, by going to you every time the world seemed to turn against him, and tonight, you remind him how good he can be.
Word count: 3.2k
Warning/s: 18+ MINORS DNI!! canon-typical incest and language, smut! piv, unprotected sex, virginity loss, porn w little plot?? help- sub! aegon, dom but virgin! reader (is that a thing or did i make that up), slight angst? hurt/comfort, aegon having a praise kink, possesive aegon, breast play, riding/cowgirl, mutual orgasm, slight breeding kink from aegon, lmk if i missed anything!
Note: mind empty- need aegon- first time writing for him i hope i did okay- i don’t think i was thinking when i was writing this <3 likes, reblogs, and feedbacks are always appreciated!
GIF is not mine, credits to the owner!
Only few knew the hidden pathways hidden within the Red Keep, Maegor’s tunnels, they call it, some say the secret passages were haunted by every stonemason, woodworker, and laborers who participated in building such intricate pathways- only to be ordered to be slain by Maegor, promising that only those of the blood of the dragon would know where every path led, whether it leads out into the streets, or rather a different room in the Red Keep.
For Aegon, he had grown to use these secret pathways for his own escape and enjoyment possibly out in the streets… or mostly to visit his sister-wife at night in her own chambers when she does not sleep in his chambers, using the tunnels to effortlessly keep away from prying eyes and ears.
You. You were the twin-sister of Helaena, the princesses ever so adored by the realm and yet barely seen out the Red Keep. You and Helaena, much as twins you were, you two had contrasting personalities.
As Helaena liked to keep to herself with her fascination with critters and such, you were more into the knowledge of the realm, nose always buried within a book or always eagerly attending your lessons with the Septa.
Until you had come of age along with Helaena, wherein your mother, Alicent Hightower had initially proposed Helaena to be wedded to Aegon, in which you did not agree with, having witnessed Aegon’s recklessness and his debauchery, you cared for your twin too much to imagine her with someone like Aegon.
And therefore you were the one wedded to your older brother, Aegon. Aegon, however, wasn’t also somehow pleased with the notion, he found you utterly annoying, ‘too smart for your own good’ as he could recall your countless banters with one another.
However, as your marriage came to be, it almost gave you whiplash on how different Aegon had acted before to now. Yes, he despised your marriage, but soon he also found himself stuck with your company whether you both liked it or not.
One night you had found Aegon stumbling into your chambers drunk, of course, you had braced yourself for what was he about to do to you since he was quite unpredictable, but what he did was far more than what you expected.
Instead, he drunkenly blabbered away at his insecurities, of not being enough, of always doing what was expected of him yet your mother had always found ways to call him all sorts of names to his face, and your father the King never even once tried to make a bond with him, when all he ever wanted was to hear just once that he had done well from your mother and father, now all that seems too far within reach as the King’s health was declining.
That night, you had suddenly understood why Aegon was the way he was. Since then, Aegon has found no judgment with you. Sometimes it was a surprise to find him sober, at your chambers, seeking comfort in your arms. You, his sweet sister, was like a salve, a remedy for it all.
Aegon still had trouble showing his true emotions verbally, but he always wanted to show you how much he appreciated you, it was even surprising that he had yet to fill your womb with a child, but he often had bought you gifts and little trinkets that reminded him of you, thinking it would be enough to somehow show that he was trying, for you.
And in turn, you understood, you always knew what to say that had Aegon melting into your arms.
And that’s when he finally pressed at the stone wall disguised as any other wall within your chambers, the stone gliding easily behind a tapestry on the wall as he stepped in, candles lighting the way as he huffed a breath, finally able to catch some fresh air after being in the narrow passages. Flicking the tapestry back into place, his feet immediately take him to the foot of your bed where your figure lay underneath the blankets.
Aegon felt something stir within him at the sight of you, locks of platinum hair splayed upon your pillows, eyes closed, chest breathing rhythmically as you lay on your side, a strap of your loose nightdress down on one shoulder, your exposed skin seeming to tease him as he stood there dumbfounded for a few moments.
However, the remnants of the infuriating day he had ground him back to reality as to why he was here, sneaking into your chambers. Aegon found himself sliding underneath the covers behind you, the warmth of you immediately making him sigh, a comfort he had longed for throughout the day, contrast to the chill that had seeped in his bones.
Slowly, his arm found its way around the curve of your waist, leaning in as he desperately wanted to just nuzzle against you, hot breath fanning on the back of your neck. “Wife…” He breathed softly, not wanting to startle you. He waited for a response, thumb absentmindedly running circles on your abdomen, he should’ve probably let you sleep- he was content with only laying beside you, but a selfish part deep within him wanted you to wake.
In your sleep, you had already felt the bed dip from behind, stirring as you felt an arm drape around you, the hot whisper on your skin making you finally rouse, shifting as you felt the hold on you tighten as you turned your head, coming to your senses as you blinked traces of sleep from your eyes.
Registering the presence, your brows knit. “Aegon?”
It wasn’t uncommon for you that he would often find his way into your chambers when he had his days. “Mhm, it’s me.” He replied, now noticing you were awake, he brought his hand back to rest on your waist from behind.
“What happened?” You ask, as you always did. “I… couldn’t sleep. Mother was being… difficult again.” He responded hesitantly. “Did I wake you? Would you like me to go?” Typical of Aegon to dismiss himself easily when his mind would berate him for seeking comfort.
Aegon was already making the move to sit up and get off your bed when you sleepily turned and tried to grab at his hand or wrist, only to fall short and manage to grab at his tunics, tugging on it. “Hush, stay.” You mumbled and Aegon swallowed.
“Do not think this foolish.”
Slowly then Aegon allowed himself to fall back onto your bed, creaking in response.
Shifting, you layered a pillow behind your back leaning against the headrest, before grabbing Aegon’s arm and tugging him to lay atop you, something Aegon never did before but you tugging took him by surprise, laying on top of you as you looked down at him, his head moving to lay on your chest.
He was about to whine at the feeling of being coddled when his ear picked up on the sound of your steady heartbeat and it was enough to close his mouth shut, seeming to zone out as you slowly raked your fingers through his scalp, adding to the sensation in which Aegon sighed and screwed his eyes shut.
“I am not good enough.” He murmured. “Never will be.”
“You are, Aegon.” You counter. Aegon huffed onto your chest, the action sending you flushed as his face was directly on your breasts. “You always have the chance to be good, mother does not see it yet but I know you are doing your best.” You continued, ignoring the way your heart began to pick up its pace as Aegon’s hot breath fanned through your nightdress.
Oh you prayed to the gods he would not notice.
But Aegon clearly did, the thumping of your heart growing against his ear as he shifts his head, craning to look up at you. Your body felt suddenly hot. “You can be good, you are good… the crown is a heavy burden but it has placed itself upon your head, this is your chance to prove yourself.”
Your words turn to a weak whisper as Aegon’s eyes trailed from your eyes to your parted lips, your chest starting to rise as he spoke whilst his eyes stayed glued to your lips. “You think so, sweet sister?” He asked, now his eyes flickered back to yours and there was a hint of vulnerability and… hunger to them.
His body pressing against yours did not help as you could feel yourself start to throb, his gaze igniting something primitive within you. You tried to shift, needing friction between your legs- but it made Aegon groan, his gaze dropping momentarily.
Until you had felt something hard pressing against your leg. You swallowed thickly, the need starting to boil within you. You needed him.
“Aegon…” You broke the silence and he let out a weak hum in response, he doesn’t seem to be doing anything as you felt like you were being consumed from the inside.
He was holding back, you could feel it.
Moving your hand, you tilted his face to meet yours, before you had given and leaned in, kissing him sloppily and inexperienced, it made Aegon’s brain shut as his brows knit, eyes closing as he let out a low groan, hand immediately moving to grasp the back of your head.
Your hands began to roam around him, wanting to feel all of him but he pulled back for air, which you realized you were also out of breath, mind in a daze.
Aegon’s gaze raked over you, he had held back for so long and this is the first night he was about to have you. Yet he doesn’t want it to be rushed or perhaps take advantage of you in the heat of the moment, his thoughts running as he stared at you.
“Aegon, please.” You said, your sweet tone sounding like the Seven heavens in his ears.
You were getting increasingly frustrated, making the bold move to pull and push him down onto the bed, Aegon momentarily blinking in surprise, not expecting such an action to come from his sister-wife, taking the control away from him.
And oddly enough, it sent a thrill running down his veins and straight to his cock.
He liked it.
You swung your leg over him, straddling him as you could feel his throbbing cock directly against your damp underclothes, rolling your hips which had sent you both moaning at the feeling, Aegon’s hands landing on your hips to keep you still.
“You don’t- we don’t..” Aegon tried to talk but the view and feel of you on top of him was making that very difficult as of now.
“I want to.” The firmness in your tone was a contrast to his, Aegon was near to turning putty in your hands and you haven’t even near touched him yet.
His nod made you move your hands to slowly lift off your nightdress, the moment it hit the floor, revealing your shape to him, no longer hidden by layers of fabrics, it was enough to make Aegon stare in awe.
You felt hot under Aegon’s gaze as you moved to shield yourself but his hands caught your wrists, stopping as he sat up, making you shift yet still straddle him, his hardness still apparent and warm against your thigh under his tunics.
“Fuck you’re..heavenly.” Aegon murmured, his hands still holding your wrists loosely but his eyes now drifted down your face to your tits, nipples perked.
You took the initiative once more, your turn in grabbing his wrists before guiding them to your breasts, his rough palms slowly cupping them making you whimper, jolting and needing more friction as your body moved without you thinking, guiding his hands to cup and squeeze your breasts.
Aegon’s brain finally caught up with him as his hands moved to his own accord, oh you looked and felt heavenly he felt like he was already about to spill himself just by seeing you like this, taking control of him.
Your hands then moved to his head, grasping and tugging at his hair, making him moan low as you then pulled him to you, wasting no time as Aegon lathered hot open mouthed kisses against your skin, leaving flames in their wake as you sung sweetly on top of him.
His mouth trailed down your neck to finally your breasts as he suckled and licked at your mounds, taking one in his mouth, sucking lewdly as you looked down at him, eyes meeting yours and you felt yourself overcome by the sight, nodding to urge him to keep going.
With a final suck, he pulled back, mouth letting out a pop sound as you shivered as the night breeze cooled his saliva on your breast.
Moving to help him shrug him out of his tunics, you traced your hands down his torso, Aegon shuddering. “You’re so good.” Your praise was but a thought voiced, yet to Aegon, it had him melting. You can almost see the gears in his brain stop working as you realized this.
Of course, as your mother had often degraded him most of his life, your father is present but nearly absent in caring for your siblings.
Just an ounce of praise had Aegon craving it like a man parched in the desert, willing to do anything to quench that thirst- to be able to hear you praise him again. Only you. Fuck anyone else.
It was only you, his sweet sister-wife who mattered, who had always seen him, who always understood him, nobody would come close to you. He damn well would behead a man if one ever had thought of taking you away from him.
Thank the Gods you married him.
Leaning in, you peppered kisses onto his face, murmuring phrases all the way that had him grabbing your hips, feeling your soaked cunt rubbing against his stiff cock, sweet maiden juices leaking onto him but he doesn’t enter you.
His neck craned to give you more access as you kissed him all over, his hands running up and down your sides, wanting to feel and take his time with you even if every fiber of his being cried to fuck you senselessly.
No, you were in control of him tonight, or for any night that you wished, rather.
“See how good you are..?” Your voice whispered into his ear, breath fanning stray locks of his platinum hair. Aegon whimpered. Even though you were a virgin and inexperienced, you were coming to learn the gist of it as you had went on… but there were more chances to explore further in the future.
“P-please.” Aegon whined, never in his life he had seen himself begging, yet you had changed all of that. Pulling back, you raked your fingers through his hair again, his head craning back.
“Look at me, Aegon.” Your tone wasn’t even commanding, it was gentle- however his eyes were quick to find yours again.
You relished the control you had over him- but this was also him being vulnerable. You gave him a small smile as you spoke. “What do you want?” You asked. Aegon breathed and his mouth parts open, a squeak leaving as you also felt the need burning now deep in your stomach, your cunt throbbing.
“Speak.” You followed, dragging your folds along his length, making you both shudder and for Aegon to grunt, squeezing your hips to halt you in order to clear his mind.
“You- please- please let me fuck you, let me be inside you.” Aegon rephrased but it made you burn hotter nonetheless.
If you were right, your hand reached down between your bodies, your soft hands wrapping around his shaft, your soft hands heavenly compared to the times he had touched himself to the thought of fucking you before, which he would not admit even if dared.
Pre-cum was already leaking from him as he helped you, his own hand coming to guide himself against your folds, his reddened tip rubbing against your clit momentarily that had you clenching from the sensation.
As he slowly positioned himself to breach you, his eyes found yours, your hands resting on his shoulders as you took a deep breath as his hands rested back onto your sides, rubbing as you slowly sunk down upon him, his cock sliding within you inch by inch, making you cry out as he bottomed fully.
Aegon never thought he’d had your cunt clenching around him, sucking him in further making him shudder as he whimpered, nearing to burst if he moved further.
Moving your hips, you slowly started up a rhythm, Aegon’s eyes screwing shut as you began to ride him, hands guiding you but mostly it was you who moved, his grip on your waist was but a grounding sensation for him. It truly felt like he was about to ascend from how good you felt, and you were all his.
You felt yourself letting out noises you had not imagined before, the sensations of having Aegon sheathed within you was intoxicating, nails digging against his shoulders as Aegon returned his attention to your breasts once more, heightening your pleasure as you arched your back.
A knot was forming itself in your belly, your muscles beginning to contract as you chanted Aegon’s name like a prayer. “You feel so good, Aegon!” You cry, whining as your hips seem to chase an edge fast approaching.
“I’m- fuck– not gonna last long-” Aegon murmured now hotly against your neck, guiding you bouncing up and down his cock. “Please, please…” Aegon begged for your orgasm to hit so he could spill within you.
And it did, making you gasp as euphoria filled your body, sending you shaking as bouts and waves of pleasure overtook you, clenching around Aegon’s cock as your body continued to tremble atop him.
Aegon soon followed as your peak triggered his own, pulsing within you and releasing his seed within you, having him whimpering and panting. You could feel yourself overcome with warmth as you both had come down from your peaks, bodies covered with light sheen of sweat.
You both had stayed there for a while, Aegon still sheathed within you as you both regained your breathing. Looking down at him, you brushed stray platinum locks that matted to his forehead, moving to peck his forehead and his cheeks, Aegon murmuring in turn as he gazed up at your beauty illuminated by stray candles and the moonlight.
“Thank you.” Aegon rasped, making you smile down at him as you cupped his face, placing a tender kiss to his lips.
After fixing and rearranging yourselves, not bothering to throw your clothing back on, only the blankets laid over you both as you laid face to face, your head against his chest, curled against him so peacefully.
You had soon fallen asleep from exhaustion whilst Aegon had lied awake, thumb running over your side before it moved over to your stomach, no doubt both your labor would bear fruit.
And when it did, Aegon had sworn it upon himself to be the good loving father he never had upon your child, and to be the good king the realm did not think he would be. All because of you.
#aegon ii targaryen#aegon ii targaryen x reader#aegon targaryen x reader#house of the dragon#hotd x reader#hotd aegon#aegon the second#aegon targaryen ii#aegon targaryen#aegon targaryen x you#aegon ii targaryen x female reader#aegon ii x reader#hotd fanfic#house of the dragon x reader#hotd x you#aegon ii fanfic#aegon ii x you#hotd#hotd x y/n
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HOTD is just a complete mess of a story with such abysmal writing that it’s actually mind-boggling to me that the writers really saw no issue with it.
there is no consistency or continuity to the show, and events seem to happen just to happen with no real impact on the story. examples: why did team green exist before viserys’ death if their motivation was going to be watered down to “viserys named aegon heir”? the show tried to beat in that alicent’s children were not safe under rhaenyra’s rule, further emphasized and solidified by aemond losing his eye; this was supposed to be the main motivation for putting aegon on the throne and the scenes on driftmark were perfect in showcasing the validity in alicent’s fears as well as solidifying alicent’s motivations for aegon. then, it’s all PROMPTLY forgotten in favor of a lame misunderstanding being the reason for aegon taking the throne. so really, what was the point in all that? another example, making aegon such a despicable person in season 1. really, what was the point in that if there was to be no continuity or impact or rhyme or reason for making aegon that way? none of it is ever mentioned again, none of his actions had any sort of impact, etc. no continuity or impact whatsoever, so what was the reason for having such triggering content in season 1? tasteless and disgusting. also, the deaths in this show serve NO impact and are forgotten from the minds of the characters so quickly: visenya, lucerys, jaehaerys, rhaenys, sunfyre (maybe?), the almost-death of aegon - there’s a lack of continuity in emotion and impact. the deaths happen, the characters react somewhat appropriately or not at all, and then they move on to the next episode and everything before is forgotten. ESPECIALLY emphasized by the fact that rhaenyra demanded a son for a son as if jaehaerys wasn’t dead for that exact reason. or helaena urging daemon on in his vision as if he’s NOT the man responsible? aemond caring for, at the very least, his mother and sister? gone. alicent caring for her children so much so that she tried to attack lucerys for aemond and stepped in front of a dragon for aegon? gone. aegon being forced on the throne when he never wanted it? gone and now is being given up by the woman who put him there. daemon being supportive of rhaenyra’s rule by the end of season 1? gone. there also seems to be no impact from the larys x alicent scene from season 1, so WHAT was the point of that?
the characters make absolutely no sense to me at this point. aemond, who cared for alicent and helaena, now cold, callous, power hungry, does not care for family. aemond cares more about his actions against lucerys than his actions against anyone in team green. alicent, who is driven by duty, honor, responsibility, religion and cares for her family, though has trouble showing it due to her trauma - sells out all her family members with the exception of helaena to rhaenyra? then asks rhaenyra to run away with her? huh? also, for the same reasons above, having alicent x criston cole makes no sense without showing us their progression. it just doesn’t make sense for alicent’s character to have a lover without showing us exactly how it all came to be instead of just showing us that it happened. and then for her to casually just bring it up to rhaenyra? alicent would NEVER. helaena attempting to help daemon despite the fact that he’s responsible for the murder of her son. even the sudden shift in helaena’s personality/character in the very last episode gave me whiplash and i’ve been wanting her to have a more substantial role in the plot. baela is continuously used as female reinforcement for everything rhaenyra says or does and as jace’s emotional support (that being said, i LOVE jacela, but baela’s character deserves more than just these two roles). rhaena is given like two or three talking scenes and then the rest is her just chasing after a dragon, leaving behind her younger siblings btw. which, i think having her character find strength and power without having a dragon would have done wonders but okay. aegon, i can’t even take seriously bc of his season 1 actions. same goes for larys. corlys forgetting that rhaena exists as an option for heir of driftmark, as if she isn’t the most deserving of that title.
EVERYTHING being boiled down to pro-rhaenyra. rhaenyra can never be in the wrong about anything. even jace’s very legitimate concerns, baela swooped in to convince him why he’s wrong in feeling the way that he does. rhaenyra imposes a blockade on king’s landing, a known fact, the people starve, she sends food - “rhaenyra remembers us even now!” daemon seeing a vision of rhaenyra on the throne, helaena urging daemon to do what’s right, alicent turning herself in to rhaenyra then asking rhaenyra to run away w her. one of her councilman voicing his concerns to daemon and whether rhaenyra is right for the throne because rhaenyra hasn’t done a single thing, does not attend council meetings, is not protecting her allies, refuses any sort of action at all - then demonizing said councilman even though his concerns are entirely founded. even making team green’s motivation for putting aegon on the throne being from a misunderstanding is inherently pro-rhaenyra. bc if their entire motivation is based on “viserys named aegon heir,” which we know is a misunderstanding, then OBJECTIVELY, team green is in the wrong. rather than going with the safety/protection motivation for team green, which wouldn’t have left them being so objectively in the wrong. and for all the love the show writers give to being pro-rhaenyra, they can’t even write rhaenyra well. she’s indecisive, takes no actions, just continuously begs off to go fight, doesn’t attend council meetings, cannot make a single plan on her own (all of her plans and wins have come from either mysaria or jace), is overall, not a strong or competent leader. after all this, they girlbossify her at the end when, after a whole season of doing basically nothing, she acquires three more dragons (which ALSO wasn’t an entirely smart move).
which can i also complain about the lack of strategy, diplomacy, and wits in the show? everything gets watered down to DRAGONS, which is also why rhaena’s arc is so disappointing imo.
additionally hate the lack of development and depth team black members get. it just all goes to rhaenyra and daemon (and SOMEWHAT jace), and that isn’t even done right. then you have team green who the writers TRY to give depth and development to but completely and utterly fail at creating anything truly meaningful.
lastly, i truly believe rhaenyra x alicent was a mistake, ONLY because the writers don’t know how to write it correctly. i really did enjoy the concept in season 1 until they made their relationship hijack the entire show. because of this, we didn’t get to see rhaenyra vs aegon at their full potential at ALL. it was replaced in favor for rhaenyra x alicent. i also believe this relationship is what screwed over the motivation of team green in the show because alicent needed a “just” reason to betray rhaenyra, therefore giving us the dumb misunderstanding trope. it also keeps either of the characters from diving into the potential their characters both have! it keeps them from engaging in war to its fullest extent! not to mention, having alicent throw away her entire family for rhaenyra is CRAZY. then to have her ask rhaenyra to run away with her? after everything? please. if they didn’t know how to write it in a well-written way, they shouldn’t have done rhaenyra x alicent at all bc i fully believe that it is a large reason as to why the show got so epically ruined with bad writing.
oh also, helaena and alys just spoiling major dance of the dragons plot points? i’m really not a fan of that, personally. and i really don’t know how the show is going to build off of this. it also takes away the impact that these scenes would have left on viewers if never spoiled onscreen.
oh last points promise - jaehaerys and jaehaera continuously NOT being called by their names and instead being called “the boy,” “the girl,” “the child,” angers me so much and is crazy minimization of their characters - probably to lessen the blow and impact of blood and cheese? and gwayne confronting criston cole about him sleeping with his sister, the dowager queen, in public, in front of everyone, with everyone watching? so poorly written and read like a badly written fanfiction on wattpad. the show writers forgetting that alicent x criston cole is very much not allowed in westeros and could get both in such crazy trouble by having that gwayne scene and alicent casually admitting to having a lover to rhaenyra is just bonkers.
#hotd#house of the dragon#hotd season 2#rhaenyra targaryen#aemond targaryen#alicent hightower#daemon targaryen#jacaerys velaryon#team black#aegon ii targaryen#team green#rhaenys targaryen#corlys velaryon#baela targaryen#rhaena targaryen#helaena targaryen#larys strong#otto hightower#lucerys velaryon#jaehaera targaryen#jaehaerys targaryen#anti hotd#hotd critical#gwayne hightower#criston cole#mysaria#alys rivers
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Part III - Strategic Separation


In the wake of a year filled with whispers, photo ops, and carefully curated distance, one question keeps resurfacing: why the separation?
Not just physical separation, though we’ve certainly seen less of Luke and Nicola in the same frame. We’re talking strategic separation. One that feels deliberate. One that seems designed.
It’s not hard to notice that the Luke and Nicola of the World Tour — all shared laughter, soft glances, mirroring movements, and resonance so thick it nearly buzzed through our phones' screens — have given way to something more subdued. And it isn’t just the natural ebb and flow of a press cycle.
There’s space now. A carefully curated space. And from a branding perspective? It makes sense.
Building Individual Identities
After the World Tour — where Luke and Nicola radiated joy, emotional synchronicity, and an unmistakable intimacy — the public naturally began to see them as a unit. The chemistry was real. The affection was visible. And for many fans, it became impossible not to believe that what they were seeing went beyond promotional performance. It wasn't about Polin anymore — it was about Luke and Nicola.
But in the professional world of casting directors, studios, and brand partnerships — being seen as part of a unit can be limiting. Especially when I'm sure Luke and Nicola want to be considered for a wide range of roles, across different genres, with different emotional tones.
Enter the strategy: controlled separation.
Luke and Nicola may not be appearing together as often — but the divergence in their visibility has been striking. Since mid-2024, Nicola has been a whirlwind of professional success: major award nominations and wins, leading brand campaigns, a new agency signing, and standout solo appearances across film, TV, fashion, and activism. Luke, in contrast, has appeared sporadically — attending a few fashion events, filming White Mars, and releasing the occasional editorial photo shoot or aesthetic carousel post. While his content leans into stylized masculinity and carefully managed visuals, it’s Nicola whose work has truly spoken for itself. The space between them hasn’t just been curated — it’s been lived.
The Emotional Cost of Distance
But if it’s a strategy, it’s one with consequences. Especially for a fandom that became invested in them — not just their characters.
When you build something on resonance, on mutual affection, and on shared light, pulling that back creates confusion. Disappointment. Even grief. Many fans have felt that withdrawal acutely (I certainly have), and it’s no wonder why: we weren’t just watching two co-stars promote a show. We were witnessing connection.
And then came the SAG Awards.
February 23, 2025. For a brief moment, the curtain lifted. Luke and Nicola reunited on the red carpet, in video interviews, and in photos — and the spark, the ease, the undeniable chemistry was not just present; it was stronger than ever. Their body language, micro-interactions, and mutual glow reminded fans exactly why we'd believed in the first place. It wasn’t nostalgia — it was confirmation. And for many, it felt like coming home. How could a bond that palpable vanish so quickly?

It didn’t. But what followed was telling.
In the weeks after SAGs, the narrative shifted hard. Antonia's presence was amplified. Jake appeared more consistently in Nicola’s orbit. What had been a quiet effort to curate space now became a full-force campaign of diversion. If SAGs gave fans hope, the immediate pivot gave us whiplash.
Antonia, who seemed all but gone in the second half of 2024, reappeared suddenly — styled (on an apparent budget) and positioned like a partner, but somehow still peripheral. Their appearances feel choreographed, heavy with performance, and lacking in spontaneity. For a supposed real-life romance, it reads more like narrative filler than it does organic connection.
Jake’s presence, too, plays into the illusion of separation — his role seems ambiguous, shifting between friend, companion and platonic protector. He’s appeared alongside Nicola at multiple events: a music festival, a few movie premieres (one in NYC), the red carpet & BAFTA Nominee' party as her plus-one, even the Canneseries the other week (as an assistant?). The consistency of his presence — and the neutrality of his energy — seems less about romance and more about optics.
Together, these choices reinforce distance. They anchor the illusion that Luke and Nicola are moving on, apart, individually. But to longtime observers like us, the contrast is stark. The ease between Luke and Nicola has been replaced by a very deliberate lack of shared public presence — no photos at shared events, no joint interviews, and with the exception of that one moment caught on camera where Luke leans down to speak with Nicola in the BAFTA theatre, no casual moments caught by fans. Every appearance, every frame, every post now seems to reinforce the idea that these two no longer exist in the same narrative. It’s not just distance; it’s engineered absence.
It doesn’t just feel like a pivot. It feels like erasure. And fans feel it deeply.
When the Distance Protects Something
Still, what if the space isn’t a loss, but a shield?
There’s a version of this story where the space between Luke and Nicola isn’t about ending something — but protecting something. Where Antonia and Jake aren’t romantic players, but camouflage. Where the very lack of interaction between Luke and Nicola is the clearest indicator that the stakes are higher than we thought.
If they are together — emotionally, romantically, or even as co-parents — then they’d need space. Real space. Space to let the dust settle, to raise a child out of the spotlight, to move forward without having to perform for a fandom constantly hungry for proof.
This isn’t about denial or confirmation. It’s about looking at the shape of what we see — and noticing the negative space just as much as the presence.
The same Luke who bent his knees to greet Nicola in a hug at SAGs is still there.
Maybe we’re not meant to see Luke right now. To see their connection. And maybe… that’s the point.
But with distance comes a different kind of question — one fans have been whispering louder with each carefully curated image:
When the warmth seemingly disappears and the connection fades from view… how far does the performance go?
In my next post, we'll take a closer look at the optics — the cold moments, the strategic silence, and what happens when the man once celebrated for his heart now appears to be holding it back.
Aaniin Xxx


P.S. Find a listing of this blog post series along with short summaries of each - including those not yet published - here:
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To osblaines, this is for you ♥️
Even if we try to understand the writers’ intent, this was still a bad narrative choice. And here’s why:
1. The tone of The Handmaid’s Tale has always been pain but with hope. Horror, yes, but always with a sliver of light. Good didn’t triumph easily, but it did triumph. Everyone survived almost a fairytale. Serena is on the path of redemption. Aunt Lydia was given the chance to evolve. Rita with the gun, Luke finally got his heroic stunt, Moira used her voice, I mean everyone. But not Nick
2. Nick was given nothing. No closure, no final moment with June. No redemption, no emotional reckoning, not even a tragic end!!!!!! Not a hero, not a fully villain, not a victim, just ash. Forgotten, unmourned. this was emotional whiplash.
3. It betrayed the promise of the genre. If this show were purely bleak, like Black Mirror maybe this would’ve worked. But this was never just darkness for darkness’s sake. It always offered meaning. This wasn’t “realism.” It felt like a twist for shock value: “Let’s destroy the brightest thing in the story just because we can.”
And so, the audience who for 8 years held onto that light is left with nothing.
But let me tell you something: You weren’t wrong for loving him. You saw the good in someone, You saw his pain, his growth. They gave the chance to the others. That’s unfair. And you have every right to grieve it.
You’re not foolish, not naive. In fact, you’re the best kind of viewer! The kind who didn’t just watch, you listened. You heard their visual language, the lighting, the silences, the rhythm, the angles. You trusted there was meaning behind it. That there was a soul behind it.
You even defended them. You told others:
“Wait. There’s a reason they showed this. There’s love in this. There’s a journey here.” You protected their vision from the people who only wanted to slap labels on characters. You used your intellect, your empathy to read between the lines. You believed in nuance.
And in the end, they said:
“No. He was just bad. Just a Commander. They all are evil. You were blinded.” And that feels like a slap to the most beautiful part of you.😭😭😭
to your ability to love complexity and feel deeply and think clearly. It’s as if they used your trust, your openness, your belief in their vision just to say:
“You didn’t get it. We were always telling a simple story. He was just a villain.”
I’m sorry guys, I’m so sorry. I’m with you 💔
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JUST MEET ME AT THE APT.— K. SAE-BYEOK
CHAPTER SIXTEEN

synopsis: managing a rising rock band is already chaotic enough, but when you're stuck touring with four reckless musicians, things get even messier. between late-night facetime calls, teasing that feels a little too knowing, and a certain guitarist who might just be your biggest problem, keeping things professional is getting harder by the second. but hey, no one said the music industry was easy.
warnings: mutual pining, intense eye contact, teasing that borders on flirting (or maybe it is flirting), friends who refuse to mind their business, secondhand embarrassment, slow burn that burns, emotional whiplash
playlist: spotify
a/n: thank you to my lovely gc for helping me come up w/ a plot for this chapter lololol love you guys
There wasn’t a name for what you and Sae-Byeok were doing.
No labels. No conversations about it.
Just hands pulling at clothes in dressing rooms before shows. Just stolen kisses in the back of the van when no one was looking. Just the quiet way she would press you against a wall, lips on your neck, fingers gripping your waist like she couldn’t help herself.
It was reckless. It was secret.
And it was happening a lot.
You weren’t sure when it became routine, but it had.
You’d be getting ready for a performance, adjusting your in-ear monitors, fixing your outfit—and then, suddenly, Sae-Byeok would be pulling you into a corner, mouth against yours, hands slipping under your shirt, breathing you in like she needed this before she could go on stage.
And you let her.
Because, truthfully, you needed it too.
The only rule? No one could know.
And so far, you had done a decent job of keeping it a secret.
But then—
Jisoo walked back into your lives.
And everything shifted.
The first time you saw her, you almost didn’t recognize her.
Jisoo stood near the entrance of the venue, hands tucked into the pockets of her jacket, looking hesitant—like she wasn’t sure if she should even be here.
The last time she had been around, things hadn’t ended well.
She had walked away from the band. From all of you. And her leaving had hurt—especially for Sae-Byeok.
For a second, no one said anything.
Then Ji-Yeong, ever the one to break tension, let out a low whistle. “Well, well, well. Look who it is.”
Jisoo gave a small, sheepish smile. “Hey.”
Se-Mi tilted her head. “You’ve got some nerve showing up here.”
Jisoo nodded. “Yeah. I know.”
No-Eul crossed her arms. “So, why are you here?”
Jisoo took a breath. “Because… I miss you guys.”
Silence.
Then—
Ji-Yeong huffed. “Damn it. Now I can’t be mad at you.”
Se-Mi rolled her eyes. “You were never mad to begin with.”
“Yeah, but I wanted to pretend for dramatic effect.”
Jisoo let out a small laugh, but her eyes flickered to Sae-Byeok.
And that’s when the tension returned.
Because Sae-Byeok was mad.
Or maybe not mad—just… wary.
You knew her well enough by now to recognize that stiffness in her shoulders, the way her hands tightened into fists at her sides.
Jisoo took a step closer. “Sae-Byeok.”
Sae-Byeok didn’t move. Didn’t speak.
Jisoo sighed. “I’m sorry.”
Sae-Byeok’s jaw clenched.
Everyone was watching. Waiting.
Finally—after what felt like forever—Sae-Byeok exhaled sharply and muttered, “Whatever.”
Which, in Sae-Byeok language, was as close to I forgive you as Jisoo was going to get.
Jisoo smiled, relieved. “So… does this mean I’m not banned from watching you guys perform?”
Ji-Yeong grinned. “Depends. You buying us drinks after?”
Jisoo laughed. “Yeah, yeah. My treat.”
And just like that—
She was back.
Sae-Byeok didn’t say another word, just turned away and went back to tuning her guitar.
But you knew her well enough to see it.
She wasn’t over it.
Not yet.
You found her alone in the dressing room, sitting on the couch, pulling at the wrap around her wrist—a lingering injury from too much guitar playing.
You closed the door behind you.
“She’s not the same person she was before,” you said softly.
Sae-Byeok didn’t look up. “Maybe.”
You stepped closer. “But you’re not either.”
That made her pause.
You sat down beside her, close enough that your thigh brushed against hers. Close enough that you could feel the warmth of her skin.
Sae-Byeok sighed, finally looking at you.
“You think I should just forgive her?”
You hesitated. “I think… you should stop holding onto it if it’s only hurting you.”
She scoffed. “That’s easy for you to say.”
You tilted your head. “Is it?”
Her gaze flickered to your lips.
Your breath caught.
Because you knew that look.
And sure enough—
A second later, she was kissing you.
It was slower this time. Less desperate. More… something else.
Something dangerous. Something that made your stomach twist.
Because this wasn’t just some pre-show distraction.
This was something else.
And when she pulled back, her lips barely brushing against yours, she whispered—
“I don’t know how to stop.”
Your heart pounded.
Neither did you.
Sae-Byeok didn’t want to talk to Jisoo.
She had been avoiding it all night—keeping her distance, answering in clipped responses whenever Jisoo tried to make conversation—but eventually, Jisoo cornered her in the hallway outside the dressing rooms, away from the others.
“Just give me five minutes,” Jisoo said, voice low, almost pleading.
Sae-Byeok exhaled sharply. “Fine. Talk.”
Jisoo hesitated, shifting on her feet. “I meant what I said earlier. I really am sorry.”
Sae-Byeok crossed her arms. “I don’t need your apology.”
“That doesn’t mean you don’t deserve it.”
Sae-Byeok clenched her jaw. She hated this—hated the way Jisoo was looking at her, like she was trying to dig up something that Sae-Byeok had already buried.
Jisoo sighed. “I wasn’t in a good place when I left. I made shitty choices. I hurt people I cared about.” She paused, eyes searching Sae-Byeok’s face. “I hurt you.”
Sae-Byeok looked away, staring at the wall. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”
Jisoo took a step closer. “It does to me.”
Sae-Byeok stiffened. Jisoo was too close now, standing right in front of her, and Sae-Byeok could feel the weight of her gaze—like she was waiting for something.
“I miss you,” Jisoo murmured.
Sae-Byeok frowned. “Don’t.”
But then—
Before she could react, before she could even process what was happening—
Jisoo leaned in and kissed her.
Sae-Byeok’s body went rigid.
And then—immediately—she shoved Jisoo off of her, hard enough to make her stumble back.
“What the fuck, Jisoo?” Sae-Byeok snapped, eyes blazing.
Jisoo looked at her, startled. “Sae—”
“No.” Sae-Byeok wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, fury burning in her chest. “You don’t get to do that. Not after everything.”
Jisoo’s face fell. “I thought—”
“I don’t care what you thought,” Sae-Byeok cut in, voice sharp. “It’s not like that. I’m not like that with you.”
Jisoo flinched.
Sae-Byeok shook her head, turning away. “I shouldn’t have even come out here—”
But then—
A movement in the corner of her eye.
A familiar figure.
Sae-Byeok’s stomach dropped.
Because there—standing at the end of the hallway—
Was you.
And the look on your face—
The hurt. The betrayal. The way your hands curled into fists at your sides—
It hit harder than any punch ever could.
Sae-Byeok’s breath caught. “Wait—”
But you were already walking away.
Fast.
Too fast.
Sae-Byeok cursed under her breath and ran after you, her heart hammering in her chest.
“Wait!” she called, but you didn’t stop.
Didn’t even look at her.
This wasn’t supposed to happen.
She had to fix this.
Before it was too late.
taglist: @everly-summers-solace @knfthxv @madebysae @knfthxv @katieschry1 @imlackingsleep @lyzem @stellssxo @wiltingconquest @peelover25@monroesturnns @laurenkens @yenyu1s @idontliketoread2137 @bitchybananaflower @lyuuw
#sae byeok#saebyeok x reader#squid game#fanfic#wlw fiction#kang sae byeok x reader#wuh luh wuh#angst#⋆˚࿔ just meet me at the apt.
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I've seen the "Non-ascended Astarion ending is bad for him because you have to persuade him to reject the ritual" opinion...
..implying that he never really wanted not to ascend, it's you the player who selfishly forces him to give up on his goal. To prove their point, they state that you can get a good ending out of all other companion's quests without using Persuasion at all, except for Astarion.
And boy did I want to talk about this...
(In fact, everything I wanted to say has already been told in this amazing meta post, but I still gotta ramble)
First of all, Astarion was going through an intense PTSD. The game gave him a debuff to show how badly going back to the place of his torment was affecting him. Larian couldn't make it more obvious that he wasn't thinking clearly.
Second, there is one thing all abusers have in common: they destroy their victim's feelings of self-worth to the point, the victim no longer wants or knows how to ask for help or have relationships outside their abusive circle.
Who would want you like this? Look at yourself, you think you're better than me? You're nothing. Who would want to waste their time on you? You think somebody else would treat you better?
Since entering the Cazador's palace, Astarion is reliving his worst moments. Initially, he takes it in stride, hiding his discomfort underneath performative and emotional expressiveness. He talks about how he spent time in the bedrooms where he never did any sleeping, about the kennels where he was tortured, about the barracks where he was sent to when he "deserved neither carrot nor stick". Bad memories, but he shares them with Tav because he trusts them with his scars already. They might as well know the rest.
But after descending into the dungeon, Astarion starts spiraling into self-loathing at a break-neck speed. He used to think that all Cazador victims he ever brought to him were long gone, drained, and discarded. A horrible, undeserved death, yet the thought of them not having to suffer for too long was a small consolation, one of the threads holding his sanity together.
But then it turns out that they weren't dead. They were turned. Locked away deep underground, alone with their new selves, with the hunger and isolation. They did suffer. All these years, they suffered, buried in this tomb - because of him. Cazador may have turned them, but it was Astarion who brought them to him. And they remembered it. They recognized him. The monster who stole them from their home. The monster who ruined their life. Monster. Just like Cazador.
So, as if his PTSD wasn't enough, this revelation was another blow to his grip on himself, his perception of himself. His confident facade was shattering - and in his head, he was starting to think that Tav's idea of him, of who he is, was shattering as well. He tried to warn them before. He said he couldn't be what they saw in him. Whatever person they believed him to be had never existed - and Tav was finally coming to realize that as they walked through the gallery of his sins, looking his victims in the eyes and hearing out what they had to say. Of course, Tav hated him now. They had to. How could they not?
So, at the end, he is scared. Terrified. He bit off more than he could chew by walking into the manor and thinking he had only six fellow spawns to deal with. He saw their lives as a small price to pay because Cazador made sure to erase any solidarity between them. He made them torture each other and compete with each other. He twisted the very meaning of family bonds to his perverted liking, and he knew that by doing so, he would make sure every single one of them would get a whiplash from anyone trying to mention family in a positive connotation. Astarion takes no issue with getting rid of his "brothers" and "sisters" because he is fully aware that had the roles been reversed, they would have sacrificed him without a second thought. And he was certain that Tav would change their mind once they learned more about his brethren.
But the spawns in the dungeon...All the faces he remembered. All the lovers he lured. They did nothing wrong. They never hurt him. They never tortured him. Their only mistake was to trust him.
The revelation horrifies him. His first response is to be shocked, overwhelmed with emotion - and then he has to remind himself that sacrifices must be made. He feigns indifference. He tries to cover his internal conflict with gallows humor. But his flippant mask keeps slipping as he lapses from indifference to anger, to guilt, to begging Tav not to hate him as his greatest crimes glare back at him and claw at him, shouting out threats and seething with hatred.
He can't bear the thought of dealing with all the people whose lives he helped to destroy. He can't do anything for them. Just killing Cazador won't undo what he did to them. He will never be anything but a monster in their eyes. And this is what he deserves to be. He will always be reminded of what he is.
He has no choice but to do the Ritual.
He has no idea what will happen to him after he is done - he isn't a planner. He has never been. But at this point, he doesn't see his soul as something worthy of preserving - and by association, he extends that to other spawns. He knows it all too well because he remembers how it felt. He dissociates, projecting everything he hated about himself onto Cazador's victims, trying to rationalize why he should live and why they must die while he actively avoids the truth.
Completing the ritual is no longer about being free. Or protecting himself and his lover. It's about running away. Even when Astarion has Cazador at his mercy, he still thinks of running away. Getting lost forever. So nobody could ever hurt him.
A part of him even realizes that it means running away from Tav too. But Tav can leave, he naively thinks, not knowing the full consequences of the ritual. Tav will leave to find someone else, someone better, and he will start everything anew, a king of his castle.
So, of course, Tav has to reach out to him through that thick haze of fear, anger, and self-hatred. Persuasion isn't about strongarming someone into doing what you want. It's not subjugation or emotional blackmail. It's reasoning with someone. And that is exactly what Tav does - reasons with Astarion after watching him mentally struggle, after seeing his genuine shock and fear, after understanding that he isn't fully on board with the idea.
It's true, vampire spawns tend to gravitate toward power, especially if nothing is pulling them back. A vampire spawn is a feared and scorned creature - it no longer matters whether they were an unwilling victim, forcefully taken and turned. They are seen not as an individual but as the extension of their master - and the only natural transition for them is to get on the top of the food chain. The only way to make a name and become treated as something more.
Astarion saw power as the mean to safety and freedom, first and foremost. Ironically, he never planned beyond securing these two priorities. He never saw himself after accomplishing his goals, and it's kinda amazing how people can make conclusions about his hedonism because he misses petty vanities, wants to drink blood from a goblet, and sleep on silken sheets. The man who was held and tortured in the kennels, fed rats, and had to stitch and fix his only set of clothes over and over to keep it presentable, the man who has never felt happy for most of his conscious non-life is called hedonistic for wanting nice things. For still wanting to take care of himself for once.
He wasn't harboring any grand plans, conquests, or schemes. Even his idea of taking control of the Absolute was abstract and shapeless because he didn't care about getting control over the most influential people as much as he was afraid of breaking whatever protected him from Cazador's domination. He never really knew what to do with power aside from keeping Cazador and the likes of him at bay.
The way Astarion behaves in a relationship also speaks tons of how controlling he really is...or how he isn't controlling at all. When his romance with Tav transforms into something real, and he enters a new territory, Astarion is empowered to make decisions and think about what he wants instead of pleasuring others. It's clear that he and Tav don't have sex after they come clear about their feelings. Tav respects his comfort and boundaries, gives him all the time he needs, and lets him take the lead. Whether they will have sex again or not is entirely up to Astarion. Whatever he decides, it won't change Tav's feelings for him. He doesn't have to do anything he doesn't want to do.
Astarion enjoys this new autonomy. He is playful, affectionate, outspoken...and afraid of messing everything up. If Tav mentions breaking up, Astarion thinks he is the problem. If there is another potential love interest showing they have eyes for Tav, Astarion encourages Tav to be with them because he believes they can give Tav everything he can't. When Tav says "I choose you," Astarion is taken aback, needing a moment to hide his genuine confusion at Tav actually wanting to be with him rather than Gale, Karlach, or Halsin.
For all his talks of control and dominating others, once Astarion finds himself with a lover who values his autonomy more than getting power at the cost of his dignity, who makes it safe for him to be honest, and who listens to him, he almost stops mentioning control. He merely lives in the moment, happy not to know, not to pretend, not to manipulate. Just to be.
What Astarion truly craves - not wants on a superficial level, not conditioned to want - is not to be a vampire lord. He wants the freedom to be anything. Anything he wants. Little does he know that true vampires rarely get to be anything they want, even if they gain the ability to walk in the sun -- we see it in his Ascended path as, instead of acting up on his supposed freedom to be anything, Astarion repeats Cazador's rules step by step. Just like Cazador did. Just like Verlioth did. He isn't anything he wants. He is the replica of his former master.
Astarion never had the luxury to explore who he wanted to be outside what Cazador made him. He only makes his first steps once he is free. We see glimpses of that deep-seated aspiration to be seen as a person. Treated like a person. Loved like a person. To be reflected in someone's eyes. He wants to know if there is someone beneath his usual mask, something his, not tainted by Cazador. Someone real. And at the same time, he dreads to know the answer. Because that part of him knows regret. Knows shame. Knows guilt. Confronting it posed the risk of realizing he didn't deserve love, kindness, or a future. What if real him truly doesn't amount to anything? What else for him to do?
So, he tells himself that he has no choice, and he expects Tav to affirm it -- not because he wants them to, but because he believes that Tav has seen enough to make the same conclusion. However, Tav objects, trying to be louder than all the inner demons hissing into his ears. Tav speaks to the Astarion, who asked them what they saw when they looked at him. The Astarion, who thanked them for standing by his side when he said "No" to Araj. The Astarion one who stood frozen in their hug before returning it tentatively. The Astarion who diligently, dedicatedly, caringly kept pulling himself together instead of letting himself unravel completely.
Tav reminds him that this Astarion, right here, right now, is worth fighting for. That he didn't survive all these years of torture, pain, humiliation, and dehumanization to give himself up now. He already has the power to avenge himself, avenge all Cazador's victims. He can end everything right here, right now - and this is the only power to free him. He has the power (and responsibility) of having a choice.
Tav empathizes with other spawns as victims not because they're more "innocent" than Astarion, but because associating with them doesn't brand Astarion as weak or broken. These spawns aren't horrible wretches, and neither is he. They don't deserve this, and neither did he.
The only one who deserves to die today is Cazador - the vampire, the monster, the pathetic piece of shit.
Astarion Ancunin deserves to live.
#bg3 astarion#astarion#astarion brainrot#astarion spoilers#they didn't have to make his arc hit so hard as it does#but I'm glad they did#i'm even glad that cazador isn't involved in the plot#fuck this guy
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Chase
Anon Request, “Funny ask here! An expert free runner (jumping from building to building) catches the turtles on camera. The boys planned to do the same intimidation act like with April but are shocked when they jet off managing to keep a good distance. Then once they think they have them cornered on a construction site the boys fall through the building roof landing in waist high wet concrete. Looking down at them the runner blows them a kiss before taking off. (P.S. their cool though and just keep the photo as a momento)How do the 4 react to seeing them again when they literally bump into each other on the rooftops?”
◌ Part Two ◌
~xXx~
You hadn’t intentionally meant to take a picture of the turtles. If anything it was their fault they ended up in your shot. After finishing a course you’d been aiming at for over a week, you thought it’d be a great moment to capture, but hadn’t expected to catch anyone else in the background of your roof top photo. Much less those anyone’s being four mutant ninja turtles. It was the squak of surprise at the sudden flash of your mini Polaroid that alerted you to them.
Seeing the turtles left you somewhere between an intriguing shock and confused fear, even if seeing one of them rapidly rub at their flashed eyes while over exaggerate about how they burned did indeed give you a little giggle. There wasn’t much time to process the whiplash of emotions however, as one of them, clad in red and quite burly out of the bunch, came marching your way. Not a word had a chance of making its way from their lips, as your body did what it was trained so hard to do, making a mad dash across the old market roof top. Just like that, the four brothers found themselves in a sudden grand chase. “Great job, Raph!”, Leo snapped at said aggravated terrapin, making easy work of hopping over a fenced roof. “I ain’t even do anythin’! It’s your fault!”, Raph retaliated, vaulting over some exterior vents. “Oh, and how is that exactly?!” “You’re the one who gave us the all clear!” Bouncing from wall to wall as the group followed you down into an old parking garage Donnie interjected between the two argumentative brothers. “Guy’s is now really the time?! We kind of have something urgent on our hands.” “Yeah! Like how I can’t see their sick moves because my eyes are still having a disco party!”, Mikey continued to blink rapidly, nearly missing the open edge if not for Donnie giving him aid with his staff. Rolling his own eyes, Leo brushed off the youngest, keeping track of your movements as you scaled your way into a construction building across the way. “Come on, let’s get this over with. There’s no where to go past that building, we’ll catch them there.” All the years of free running across New York, you’d never felt as thrilled as you did now. Sure, it was still terrifying in a way being chased by four giant creatures who were quite nimble despite their enormous size, but you had to be honest in the way their pursuit brought on an adrenaline like no other. They put your skills to the test in a way you could never personally do yourself, and as you swung from a bar into another construction building, you felt elation rush through your body. At least, till you found yourself caught in between a rock and a hard place, staring at a concrete solid wall with no where to escape. Hearing the collective sounds of heavy foot falls, you quickly turned around to find the four beings surrounding the only path you’d have of escape. Seeing the glares upon their faces, your racing heart now beat rapidly for a different reason. Taking a moment to even his breathing, Leonardo stepped forward, watching your reactions carefully. “We’re not going to hurt you. Just. . .don’t scream.”, he spoke as calmly as he could, hands raised to show he had no misleading intentions. You said nothing, just continued to take control of your own breathing as your eyes shifted between him and his brothers. “I’m Leonardo, and these are-“ “I’m Michelangelo, but you can just call me Mikey!”, the orange banded turtle cut in, shoving past his brother and winking at you. “The guy in purple is Donatello, and the one in red who mean mugged you is Raphael! What’s your name angel? I say angel, because there’s no way you could have crossed those alleyways so eloquently without a pair of wings~.” “Mikey!”, all three other brothers shouted in unison. “What?!” With a light groan, Donnie reminded him of their current objective. “We’re here to get the photo. Not you a love interest.” “Oooooh right, the photo!” Your eyes shifted from Raphael, back to Mikey as he moved closer, three fingered hand reaching out. Sifting into your pocket it didn’t take long to pull out the small square picture. Despite it being exposed and grainy in some parts, the tangibility of the photo and the story it now held caused a surprising sorrow in your heart to have to depart with it. Yet, gazing back up to the four mutants before you, you understood why they’d want it. With the way you reacted, who could imagine how others might to their discovery. You met Mikey half way, extending your own hand to give him the small photo, fingers lightly brushing the other. All of a sudden, a loud crack was heard, and all five of you stood frozen. Before anyone could blink, the floor caved in, the four brothers descending down into dust and debris, and you with quick reflexes pressing tight back against the concrete wall. Once the clouded air had settled, you quickly peaked over into the newly established hole, a surge of worry for the ninja quartet. Relief washed through as you caught sight of the brothers who had landed in a mucky puddle, most likely sore from the fall but seemingly fine otherwise. As the boys groaned and started another round of arguing with one another, you suddenly remembered the photo and quickly checked your closed fist to find it still there. Carefully bringing the picture before you to look at once more, a thought had emerged. This was the most fun you had in long time, the most alive you’ve felt in a while. Recalling the kind smile Mikey had given you and Leo’s mindful approach as to not frighten you, you considered the growing idea in your mind even more. Making up your mind, you gently tucked the photo back into your pocket with a gleeful grin. You swore to yourself that night to never show anyone that picture, but as long as you held on to it, you knew you’d eventually wind up seeing the turtles again. With that, you skipped from the tiny ledge along the wall, and whistled to catch the turtles’ attention. “Bye boys! It was nice meeting you!” Loud shouts and scrambling could be heard as each one clambered over the other, slipping back and forth into the deep puddle in an effort to get up and to you, but by the time they’d get themselves straightened out, you’d be long gone with anticipating hope of the next chase.
~xXx~
#bayverse tmnt x reader#bayverse tmnt#bayverse raphael x reader#bayverse raph x reader#bayverse michelangelo x reader#bayverse mikey x reader#bayverse leonardo x reader#bayverse leo x reader#bayverse donatello x reader#bayverse donnie x reader#tmnt x reader#aged up tmnt#anon request#imababblekat's writing
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I might actually die from anticipation. Anyway I agree with all of this! We're getting Buddie canon!!
Q. The last 5 minutes of that episode felt like they were at warp speed. But the Buddie stuff we got was so good!!! I can't actually believe those scenes are canon! I'm very annoyed at the Ryan stuff and dear god the Lou stuff, but everything else was so good! I feel like I'm flying!
A. The last 5 minutes gave me whiplash, anon, I agree. Any other time I would have said the Buddie scene at the end should have been cut and moved to the beginning of the next episode because it didn't really fit, and they did have to rush through the Maddie rescue to get it into the episode. But the context of that scene was necessary for upcoming episodes, and since I believe we're getting some kind of time jump as we open episode 11, they didn't really have a choice. The scene needed to be there and it was a PERFECT Buddie scene.
I will touch the Lou nonsense in this one ask, and I won't answer another one. For me personally it feels like trolling. He knew exactly what kind of pic to post and it's absolutely the kind of immature bullshit he finds funny. He could have been doing anything. 911 is not the only thing that shoots on that lot. ABC isn't the only studio who uses that lot. I think he knew exactly what he was doing and he found it funny. That's my personal take. Tommy serves no narrative purpose anymore. The Tommy part of Buck's brain officially died last night. There is no story reason to bring him back for a scene. Does that mean Tim won't? Nope, but if he does it would be for the sole purpose of having the audience see Buck actively choose Eddie. It would be used as a way to give Buck back the agency he kind of lost during their breakup. That would be the only reason he was there. And it's not necessary. Now it's possible Tim is tired and so he has written in a scene that would explicitly have Buck say out loud he doesn't want him, and it was never about him. That's also not unlike Tim. So it's one of those options, but I still personally feel like he was just attention seeking and it's nothing.
I haven't seen the Ryan stuff personally, thank god. Yay for my dash curation! I've heard about it from mutuals and asks but I haven't physically seen it myself. That being said, streaming services have obliterated an entire generation's ability to watch television. They genuinely don't know how to watch a television show. They don't understand how to WATCH. They want immediate satisfaction and answers and bullet point explanations for everything. The show has made it clear where this thing is headed. There is no more room for doubt. They are two characters on the same path going towards the same conclusion, however Buck is further along on the path. Eddie is still behind him because Eddie's route on the path has a detour (Christopher and Texas). That means Oliver can make acting choices and interview answer choices that Ryan cannot make yet. Oliver has fully made the turn. He is 100% playing Buck as in love with Eddie. And Buck is going to fully realize it either in episode 11 or 12. It's coming quickly for Buck. Eddie is not at that stage yet though so Ryan has to be more subtle. Ryan played the truck scene (the fact that scene is canon makes me want to climb the wall, twirl my hair, and kick my feet), and the goodbye scene perfectly. He was perfect in those scenes. Not only could you see the weight on him you could feel the weight on him. The uncertainty. The confusion about everything. The dialogue was loud but everything Ryan did with the dialogue, and silently without any dialogue was louder. He didn't look at Buck in the truck when he said 'it's not nothing'. He was awkward at the uhaul when it was time to say their goodbyes. They both played that scene so pitch perfect it gave me goosebumps. He allowed all the emotions Eddie was feeling to play out on his face. The subtle shift with his eyebrows during their hug was heartbreaking because it was Eddie taking a moment to realize what he's walking away from, and all the different emotions happening inside of him in that moment. There is a part of Eddie that knows. Ryan's playing it like that. Ryan is playing it as if Eddie was forced to choose between his son and Buck and he chose his son, as he should have, but that doesn't mean that leaving Buck isn't breaking his heart. And he doesn't have the mental strength to examine that more closely just yet. He's just trying to convince himself that what he's doing is right and for the best so it doesn't matter that he's hurting himself to make this choice. Ryan demonstrated all of that in that scene and anyone who's trying to argue otherwise is lying to themselves. And Eddie looked back! Abby never looked back, but Eddie did!! He looked back at Buck! That entire scene was god tier and I need people to understand that.
I also need people to understand that these scenes are not for the fandom. Obviously we eat them up, but their not for us. These scenes are for the general audience. These scenes are walking the general audience through the tonal and emotional shift in their relationship. They are very romantic coded. The dialogue, the music, the acting choices from both Oliver and Ryan. This is the show's way of making sure the audience as a whole understands and recognizes that their dynamic is changing. The audience is getting to witness the shift for both of them in real time. I desperately need people to understand how fucking good that is. We are getting to watch both men realize what's happening between them in real time and on an individual level. It's their love story! One episode at a time!!What they're doing is glorious and genuinely beautiful. Please don't take this for granted because this doesn't happen often. If you're not capable of following the story as it's told, which includes a week between episodes, and other storylines getting focus as well, then wait for the season to finish and binge the season at that point. But I am begging you all to learn how to watch a television show the way they were intended to be watched. Because that's what's happening here. We're getting ANTICIPATION!!! And LONGING!!! And I'm vibrating out of my skin! 🩷
Thank you Nonny!
Yeah, I agree with Ali on the Buddie of it all. We know where this is going, so let's just enjoy the ride. You know?
Seems I'm the only one who liked how they handled those last 5 minutes of the episode. I think it was a really clever way to go about things in order to make some time for the final Buddie goodbye scene.
I already said what I wanted to say about T and the Ryan stuff. I don't wish to talk about it anymore for today. I just want to enjoy my Buddie high for the remainder of this day. 😋
IMPORTANT! Please don't repost this ask and/or a link that leads straight to my Tumblr account on Twitter or any other social media. Thank you!
Heads up! For anyone who is giving me the shifty eyes for reposting Ali's updates instead of reblogging. Read this.
Remember, no hate in comments, reblogs or inboxes. Let's keep it civil and respectful. Thank you.
If you are interested in more of Ali’s posts, you can find all of her posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.
#anonymous blog I love#nonnies galore#anti L#buddie meta#buddie speculation#911 8B speculation#911 8x10#911 spoilers
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smtown best performances of the night ranking:
KIBUM 👑 he performed gasoline like the spirit of lady gaga had taken over him. like i saw her in that same venue two weeks ago i swear to god you can actually see the way he studies her. he is a REAL DIVA
tvxq - my god. they opened the show with rising sun and my soul ascended. yunho is simply insane. changmin is a little more mysterious but still going toe to toe in performance. they only sang rising sun, the rv psycho cover and mirotic. i swear to god i could have kept watching only them for the entire night.
superjunior - going to an sm concert an exol and leaving an elf... that one meme of the two paths between a sad storm and a sunny rainbow day. these men do not play about mexico and mexico don't play about them!! kyuhyun and leeteuk got insane pipes. eunhyuk and donghae are so embarrassing. i kinda love them.
exo - it took me a good half hour to process they were real and they were there. all three of them gave us a solo performance and then performed git it up and it was INSANE. fuck all of yall who doubted what only three of them could bring to the table these men are built different and they were not lacking or missing anything. suho has insane breath control btw. and they promised to come back all together with a new album and tour. the exol sprite in my blood after this concert leveled up 1000000. WE ARE ONE.
red velvet - kinda insane to think red velvet were never sent on tour here because the crowd LOVED THEM. so many people are rv stans and i don't think they even knew it. they opened with bad boy and the stadium was SHAKING. too bad they came incomplete because they were definitely lacking wendy's voice but still. amazing performance. they really looked thrilled to be here.
wayv - FIRST PERFORMANCE IN MEXICO AND THEY KILLED ITTTTT. my god ten is ethereal. i'm still trying to process seeing him in the flesh. but it was great, they sang give me that and love talk first which was AMAZING. and for their encore they did frequency which was disgusting. horrible ass song 😭 they should have done poppin love or on my youth!!!! anyway. they were clearly shocked to see so much support from the crowd it made me emotional. gorgeous men they all look insane live. i love them so much my wayv family ❤️
aespa - my girls did sooo well they had handheld mics on for all for their songs (which is more than we can say for their last concert tour lmfaooo) and they looked SNATCHED. gorgeous fits gorgeous makeup if these are the looks for the comeback we're about to eat so good. great energy and as always amazing songs whiplash really has become that song for them.
the rest of the groups i don't remember enough about to rank accurately. some of them did well some of them did okay. only two groups were mid imo. hearts2hearts did really well for their first concert!!! i wanna say they did try to sing live but we could hear the backing track more. their dancing is really polished tbh like that's definitely a great point for them cause there's a lot of them and the synchronization is satisfying.
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Taskforce 141's Reaction to Seeing You in Your Wedding Dress for the First Time - Preferences
John Price
John had been waiting years to finally marry you. He proposed three years ago and ever since, the time never came. So, when your wedding was finally here, it was a very emotional day for everyone. His entire team was there along with your family and John couldn't have wished for more.
Yet, he was nervous as he stood by the altar. He feared you ran off.
So, when the music started playing and you walked down the aisle, John felt a long sigh leave him.
Then he saw how amazing you looked.
He would cry, only a couple of teardrops, but he would let those slip with pride as he watched his bride walk down towards him. He felt intense joy and pride.
Simon Riley
He would be a mess on your wedding day.
So much so that everyone around him had to calm him down. And holding Simon back was a real challenge.
He wanted to see you, but he also couldn't which ate him up on the inside.
He kept fidgeting and shifting from one leg to the other.
Simon swore he nearly gave himself whiplash from how quickly he turned around as the music started to play.
But, there were you, in your gorgeous dress. Simon felt the tears roll down his cheeks, he even saw Johnny take a picture but he didn't care. All he cared about is how much he loved you and your beautiful smile as your hand was handed over to him.
Johnny MacTavish
Johnny is not one to hold back his emotions when it comes to you.
He has always been and always will be open about them.
And how could he hold these emotions on his own wedding day?
The answer was simple, he couldn't.
Seeing you enter the room, he was already crying, too taken over by the emotions.
Johnny would be the kind of man who is not afraid to show this side of himself.
He would be proud that he landed a woman like you, and so he would be proud to see you in your wedding gown. Knowing what you two have been through just to get here.
He gave a little squeeze to your hand.
Kyle Garrick
Kyle would be the kind who would try his best to hold back his tears.
It would be difficult considering that deep down he was also an emotional person.
As the music started to play and he heard the doors open, he was fine.
But then he saw you, hiding behind your veil, it just did something to him.
He would still try his best not to cry, even if it was all so overwhelming. You two were surrounded by your family and his, and on top of it all, you looked so gorgeous in your dress.
Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster @capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @noname2246
~Masterlist~
ˇAO3ˇ
DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS
#call of duty modern warfare#x reader#modern warfare#modern warfare imagine#john price x reader#simon riley x reader#johnny mactavish x reader#kyle garrick x reader#taskforce 141#john price imagine#john price imagines#simon ghost riley#ghost imagines#ghost#john soap mactavish#johnny soap mactavish x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#price x reader#ghost imagine#soap imagine
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Ghost fell first and fell hard. He’s been suppressing his emotions for years and it doesn’t bother him anymore when people eventually stop trying with him. But then Soap showed up and changed that. Soap didn’t pull away when he noticed how closed off Ghost was. No, he just smiled and stayed.
Ghost’s walls cracked until they crumbled, leaving a hole big enough for Soap to come through. Once Soap was inside—
Ghost decided he wasn’t going to let him go. Gaz mentioned how Ghost went from letting Soap being the only person he allowed to touch him to ‘I will bite anyone who even even thinks about looking at him’ all within a day. It was such a rapid change that it gave people whiplash. From ‘sort of friends’ to ‘soulmates’ within twenty four hours.
Soap wasn’t given a warning before the change, either. One moment he was lightly touching Ghost’s hand, not wanting to make the man uncomfortable by holding his hand, then the next moment Ghost was devoting his whole soul to him, holding his face like he was the most precious gemstone in the world.
This probably would’ve been too much… for anyone else other than Soap. Soap who always gave his all into a relationship only for it to break apart because he was ‘too much’. Soap who was used to being the only one trying so hard.
Now he’s met his match and neither are going anywhere any time soon.
#call of duty#cod mwii#modern warfare ii#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#soapghost#ghostsoap#drabble
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LGIEF Ep 31-32
So I finished watching Love Game in Eastern Fantasy... definitely still trying to process the last two episodes.
I feel like all that had a potential to be very interesting? I'm just not sure it hit right for me.
The time travel thing? They were like "let's go back to the beginning together" and then they were just right before he died and magically knew how to make things actually work this time? It happened so fast it kinda gave me whiplash. Honestly a good bit of the last two episodes felt kinda contrived to me in a way that maybe was explained better in the novel? Idk how close this adaptation is since I haven't read it
The author thing? I love some good meta involving the author, but it felt like both Miaomiao and Zi Qi just kinda suddenly knew things? Like Miaomiao being like "oh only the author can change the ending and also this was his debut novel he wrote when he was young and sad." I don't mind the show not telling us things right away (I loved the revelation that she knew what she was giving up when she accepted the power) or skipping the actual conversations with the System or what not, it just felt like it came out of no where, honestly.
And Zi Qi feels like a separate character in a way that Lin Yu doesn't, so him suddenly having been Fu Zhou the whole time (without knowing it?) kinda feels like it undermines Zi Qi's emotional arc? I do like the way both young Zi Qi and young Fu Zhou had to live restrained lives, it feels thematically resonant
It felt kinda odd too that Mu Yao and Liu Fuyi didn't have any presence at the ending when Cui Cui and his grandfather do? And I hope Miaomiao fully remembers her "dream" now that she has met her author
Idk, I really like most of the show, but I'm going to have to rotate the ending around in my brain for a while, I think. I don't hate it, but I'm just still stuck on ?????? so I'm reserving my final opinion. Maybe it will grow on me! Or maybe I'll just hang out pre-Catastrophe of the Heavens when they've defeated the Resentful Woman and everything is fine and everyone (except Cui Cui's grandfather) is together
#love game in eastern fantasy#I don't normally write online about my opinions of shows but i thought typing out my thoughts might help#idk if it did tho lol
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season 12 prison arc coke rant
“spencer” is actually a really great episode (as most character titled episodes are), but reflecting on prison arc some more, the first two episodes of it are really the only good ones. the ending with cat adams was also enjoyable as someone who loves aubrey, but realizing the arc dragged for 9 episodes is just fucking crazy lol. i wasn’t a fan of it to begin with (and it was brutal to watch in real time).
the main issue with it wasn’t even the fact it dragged, but the fact the arc had little emphasis on the unsub who framed spencer. the first few episodes were like, “yeah it’s probably scratch” then we saw barely any focus on trying to hunt him down, and then they’d just pivot back to scenes of spencer getting his ass beat in prison. arcs like doyle/emily are fleshed out way better imo because it gave attention to the unsub and their ties to the team member… like there was no MYSTERY behind it to me.
during the doyle episodes, doyle WAS the case. i understand the team can’t stop their jobs or other cases to help spencer, but the back and forth between regular cases to spencer in prison was just giving me emotional whiplash, and not in a good way. the fact they couldn’t just stop showing regular cases is a symptom of how drawn out it was… doyle they could justify giving whole episodes too because they gave us tidbits throughout the season, some BACKGROUND, and then we see a climatic showdown. they just sort of dropped cat adams like a bombshell for shock value which felt incredibly cheap. if they even gave small hints throughout the first half of s12 of spencer getting followed by cat in some way, i’d be less annoyed.
alternatively, spencer looked sexy when suffering and he stressed emily out so bad she cut her bangs and became vampire mommy again, so was it really that bad?
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