Intriguingly, Clapton also says that Jon won’t always be wearing furs and capes this season. As we saw in the Season 7 trailer, Jon Snow will head south for the first time (that we know of) since his birth. And thanks to Clapton, we now have official confirmation where he’s going. “We had a lot of discussions about, does the cape give him presence, or is it better to not have that presence? What are we trying to say?” Clapton told Uproxx. “There are times when we removed it because we wanted him to be more vulnerable. Especially I think, when he saw Dany, and he went to see her for the first time in her chamber. We decided to remove it.” So, Jon Snow will meet Daenerys Targaryen? We all pretty much expected that to happen, but this is the first official word from someone in the Thrones camp that it will. You can see that “vulnerable” cape-less look here from the Season 7 trailer.
So now we have confirmation of scenes of Jon and Dany alone in which it was a point for them to BE VULNERABLE TOGETHER
Folks, Jonerys is coming and I am crying. This article cleared my skin, helped me drop a size, paid off my mortgage, etc. Gods bless us everyone.
Full disclosure I am slow to get new info when it drops and any time I learn something fun it is always because my best friend @sweetorganza told me first and the same is true today haha.
“When was the last time you slept?” Oliver asks, walking into the bunker after a long day at City Hall.
He hadn’t expected Felicity to be here, considering he’d told her to take the day off this morning after they pulled an all nighter following up on a lead that turned out to be another dead end. Since she is still wearing the outfit she had on when he left this morning, he knows she hasn’t left.
“What day is it?” Felicity asks, not looking up from her screen.
“Tuesday,” he says, looking around the room for any sign that she’s at least eaten, but all of the garbage cans are empty, so he knows she hasn’t. The only sign that she’s consumed anything is the coffee cup in front of her and the empty K-Cups on the counter near the kitchen.
“Tuesday, right,” she mutters, clearly distracted by whatever it is she’s doing. “And what day did we go after Valenzuela?”
Oliver looks at her in concern before saying, “Saturday.”
She’s got to be kidding. She can’t have been up that long. How is she even functioning right now?
I’m a long-time fan of Unfuck Your Habitat, and now have the chance to share some photos. A lot of the posts UFYH reblogs are examples of people deep cleaning a small area (like a desk or a drawer), or a larger area over a day or two of extended effort–which is super cool and fantastic don’t get me wrong! but is a bit difficult for me to emulate, because I’m all over the place figuratively and literally (visiting family etc) and my executive function… doesn’t. :D
The first half of 2017 was a bit shite and I let my room get to what you see in the first pair of photos. When I had finally extinguished my mental health garbage fire, I realised that if I wanted to do things besides sit on the couch and glare at the wall, I needed to reclaim my space.
So, I made it my goal to clean my bedroom over the course of July. These are the progress photos; the dates are in the captions. I never worked longer than an hour at a time and on many days, I did no cleaning at all, but I managed to juuuust make my personal deadline. :D
One more photo and some advice/a lot of words under the Read More:
zoemonster200 said: I just got a good idea for a Reid x reader. So reader is Hotch’s daughter, dating Spencer, and goes into witness protection with her father and brother. She heard what’s been going on with Spence and the prison and wishes to go back but she can’t for obvious reasons. When they get word that Scratch is gonna Hotch let’s her go and it is an emotional reunion with her Spencer. Also Luke’s first time meeting reader. Pwease?
I looked up from the board game I was playing with Jack at my dad, whose face was a mask. Even so, there was something in his voice that alerted me, and I knew something intense was happening.
“What is it?” I asked. My heart had already started to pound inside my chest in anticipation of whatever he was about to say.
“Scratch is dead.”
My heart leapt against my ribcage, images of the one and only person that I had left behind in DC flashing through my mind.
I was up in seconds.
“I have to go see Spencer,” I heard myself say; it felt so unreal, the idea that I could just go and get on a plane to see the love of my life.
“Go,” he replied, and I paused in my internal spinning to meet his dark eyes; warmth and understanding radiated from him, and I found myself filled with gratitude as I leaned in to hug him, taking a moment to take comfort in the familiar embrace before I gathered my things and headed for the airport, to go to Spencer.
I sat next to the window on the plane; gazing out at the clouds, I thought of nothing but Spencer. After hearing everything that had happened to him, my heart had been broken at the knowledge that I couldn’t be there for him. If I had been there, I could have helped. Maybe, I had thought more than once, I could’ve even kept him safe from all the suffering he’d had to endure. Now, all I could think of was getting to him.
When the plane landed, I headed immediately for Quantico, and walked the familiar route to the bullpen where the team was often gathered. I stopped at the top of the stairs, and looked down, finding a quietly disturbing scene. Each of them was sitting at their respective desks, and Spencer’s head hung low as he gazed at the wooden surface. Even from my distance, I could almost feel the exhaustion and beaten down feeling radiating from him. I had to force myself to take the stairs at a normal pace, and came to stand at the foot of the stairs. Each of them was so lost in their own thoughts that they had all failed to notice me.
“Spencer,” I heard my own voice say, the word which was so familiar in my mind and my heart sounding nearly foreign on my tongue. He looked up and I watched his guard crumble as he stood up from his chair, a mess of emotions on his beautiful features as left his chair spinning in his wake to race across the bullpen toward me. And then, I was wrapped up in his arms, and he was burying his face in my hair.
“(Y/N), thank God you’re here,” he murmured.
“Hey sweetheart,” I whispered. As I held him close to me, I could feel him trembling. I ignored the others; gently and quickly I led him across the bullpen and up the stairs, into the conference rom, closing the door behind me and checking to be sure the blinds were closed. I knew he was moments from losing it, and wanted it to be a private affair.
He looked at me and I saw so much in his hazel eyes; the months and months that he’d been facing the world alone were reflected there in those warm depths. I felt a pang in my heart and my stomach begin to twist yet again with the knowledge that he was all alone for so long, wandering and lost and desperately needing the kind of love his team couldn’t provide him and his mother was no longer able to.
“Spencer,” I murmured again. “I am so sorry you had to do this all alone.”
“No,” he replied, and he reached up to rub his eye with the heel of his hand, anguish on his face.
“Hey,” I said softly, stepping forward to stand right in front of him. “Sweetheart, are you okay?”
Slowly, Spencer shook his head and I saw his lip start to quiver in spite of his valiant efforts to keep it together.
“No,” he whispered, casting his gaze to the dingy, dark carpet below our feet. “No, I’m not.”
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
He let out a shaky sigh.
“What isn’t?” he asked.
“Scratch is dead,” I offered. “There’s that. And…I’m home.”
He looked up at my words and I could see so much desperation and the tiniest sliver of hope, all of which made me want to hug him and never let him go, to shield him from everything so that he wouldn’t ever have to face such heartbreak again.
“You are,” he whispered, and it was as if he wasn’t sure he should believe it.
“I am,” I said, a little forcefully, and took another step forward so that I was standing right in front of him, close enough to feel the warmth that radiated from his skin.
“I have PTSS,” he said. He looked up, as if forcing himself to meet my eyes. “I- I don’t know what I’m going to do about my mom. I can’t sleep, I can’t think, I don’t even know how to function right now. I’m not the same person I was when you left, (Y/N).”
“Stop,” I said. He hesitated, but closed his mouth.
“I know what you’re getting at,” I told him softy. I cocked my head to the side and the gently laid my hand against his cheek, holding his gaze.
“I’m not leaving you again, Spencer,” I said fiercely. “It doesn’t matter to me what you’ve been through while I wasn’t able to be here. It doesn’t matter what battles you’re facing right now. I want to fight them with you, because I love you, Spencer Reid, more than anything in the whole world. I wish more than anything that I could have been here for all of that, but I’m here now and I’m not leaving you again.”
Tears had started to fall from his eyes as I spoke, and I brushed one of them away with my thumb.
“Come here,” I said, and reached for him. He came willingly, and I could feel his tears soaking into my hair, but I didn’t care at all.
“I’m so sorry,” I said softly, running my fingers through his soft curls.
He started to speak, but sobbed against my shoulder instead.
“Hey, shh,” I said gently. “It’s okay, love. We have all the time in the world to talk, okay? You don’t have to talk right now.”
I sank to the floor and he followed. I leaned back against the wall, and he curled his lanky limbs into a ball next to me, his head on my shoulder and my arms around him a little awkwardly.
After all he’d been through, even a tough, genius FBI Agent like Spencer needed to curl up and cry.
“Everything’s going to be alright,” I murmured against the crown of his golden curls. “It’s okay.”
We sat there like that for what could’ve been hours, but more than likely wasn’t, and eventually Spencer pulled back to look at me, swiping at the remaining tears on his face. I smiled softly at him, leaning in to press my forehead to his, allowing my eyes to flutter closed. I breathed in the scent of Spencer, and thanked my lucky stars that I was able to return to him.
“I love you,” he whispered, a little hoarse.
“I love you, too,” I replied. I cupped his cheek in my pam and pressed my lips against his, tasting the familiar blend of coffee and Spencer, letting it all rush over me.
I was home.
Just then, there was a soft knock on the door, and Spencer stood, reaching out to help me up. I followed, and he opened the door to the conference room with a small smile for the dark-haired man on the other side.
“Hey, Luke,” he said.
“Hey, Spencer,” the man named Luke replied. His eyes flickered to me and Spencer cleared his throat, his grip on my hand tightening for a second.
“This is (Y/N),” he said to Luke, adding, my girlfriend, and Hotch’s daughter.”
Luke held out his hand to me with a smile, and I shook it.
“Welcome home, (Y/N),” he said sincerely.
“He has a German Shepherd- Roxy-” Spencer said, looking over at me with a smile reminiscent of the days before everything fell apart. “You’ll love her,” he vowed, and I couldn’t help but smile. As we followed Luke down to the bullpen, I couldn’t help but feel that there was a glimmer of hope; things would be alright, I decided, as I let go of Spencer long enough to hug Emily, JJ, and Garcia before greeting Rossi and meeting the newer members of the team.
Tonight, I would be going home with the love of my life. We had a long road ahead of us, but really, what more could I ask for?
As I glanced back at Spencer, I decided that I had everything in the world I would ever need with him by my side.
TAG LIST: all fics *if you’d like to be added to any tag list, please let me know!*
Take it. Reallllll it in.. 😶 What in the hell?? I can’t even function properly right now–I’m SHOOK–but.. when Youngjae announced this to be the game they were gonna play next, Bambam looked a bit off put by the idea, making a rather displeased face. But not Yugyeom LMAO! He’s rocking side to side like a damn child on Christmas morning!! 😂Then jumping up to get things started cuz, he’s more then ready!! And Bambam just looks so soft and cute and precious! 😚😚❤ Ughhh, I think I’m dying of too much yugbam in my system. Imma overdose real soon 😭😭🤧
Not What People Thought (Evan Hansen x Reader smut)
A/N: This was a little out of my zone, but I think it turned out alright. Also if you haven’t seen Sing Street, go watch it on Netflix!!! It’s incredible, it’s one of my all time favorite movies and the sound track is phenomenal! Okay I’m done rambling
Request: can we get some dom!reader x evan smut with light bondage pls?? extra points for making him cry and overstim ;^)
I’m actually crying, I started chatting with @shrug-viper less than a week ago and they made this for me just to be nice, like I can’t even function right now, I’m just deeply, deeply touched by this gift. I love how light and pure it feels, I don’t even have words to describe how happy this makes me.
Thank you so much and thank you for using my really dumb URL pun as inspiration. You’re a legend and I love you.
What about. Bughead prompt how Betty is taking a photography class and uses Jughead as a model. Gets him dressed like young Leo from the Titanic and the whole school goes nuts and fangirls
Thank you so much, I loved this idea!
“Betty, c’mon, I don’t really think this is a good idea,” Jughead whined from where he stood in front of the pile of clothes his girlfriend had left on a wooden stool in the middle of the Blue and Gold office. He poked the offending material gently with his index finger, looking up to meet her eyes, eyebrows knit apprehensively.
“Jug, you said you’d help me with this photography course - whatever I needed, remember?” she returned, crossing her arms across her chest in defiance, a knowing glint in her eye. She knew she’d get her way, and he did too. It wouldn’t stop him from putting up a fight though.
“Yeah, I know, but this?” He picked up the light brown slacks. “It’s not really me.” They fell back to the stool. She sighed, walking over to him to straighten them out before they creased.
“You’re not supposed to be you, Jughead, you’re just my subject.” When his face remained stoic she switched tactics. “Besides, I think you’re going to look great in these, you can ever wear your own suspenders.” She crept closer to him, grabbing the elastic that hung at his hips and pulling at it slightly, letting it snap back against his thigh. Jughead took in an unsteady breath. “If you do this for me, I’ll be in your debt,” she finished, looking up at him from beneath thick, dark eyelashes. He groaned internally - she wasn’t playing fair.
“Fine, but you own me, Cooper. Big time,” he snarked, leaning down to capture her lips before reluctantly grabbing the pile of clothes and going to change.
Betty busied herself arranging the stool in front of the blue screen she’d borrowed from the yearbook department, fussing over the exact position and moving the box lights to get exactly the right shadow. She heard the door click and turned to greet Jughead, breath leaving her in a gasp.
“I look ridiculous.” Betty couldn’t think of anything less true, even if her brain was functioning at full capacity right now. Jughead stood in the doorway, shoulders hunched slightly in discomfort. The brown slacks hung off his hips perfectly, white dress shirt tucked in with the top buttons undone and showing off a hint of smooth chest beneath. His suspenders were now perched on his shoulders and, best of all, his hair hung teasingly over his eyes, beanie long gone. “Betts?” he questioned when she still hadn’t said anything.
“Err… I… y-you look good, Juggie,” she stuttered, hoping that the blush on her cheeks wasn’t as hot as it felt to her. Seriously, did they turn off the AC in here? Jughead relaxed slightly at her new dumbfound expression, feeling a rare manly pride that he would never get used to as it happened only in the presence of Betty.
“Thanks. Where do you want me?” A million inappropriate answers flew through Betty’s head before she cleared her throat, pointing to the stool. He sat, awkwardly at first before Betty ran her fingers deliciously through his hair, eliciting an appreciative hum.
“Just do what feels natural,” she said, taking a step back to admire his pose, one leg up on the bar of the stool, chin resting in his hand.
“Nothing about this is natural,” he retorted, tell-tale smile in his eyes nonetheless. Betty rolled her eyes at his stubbornness.
“Oh, hush.” She raised the lens to her eye before lowering it again. “One second.” She moved toward him, reaching forward to undo another button on his shirt. “Much better,” she giggled. Jughead smirked, a laugh escaping him. He loved seeing Betty like this, playful and carefree. If he had to pose in some ridiculous outfit for a few hours, who was he to complain when he got to see that glow radiating from her cheeks.
“I know you aren’t gonna like it but those pictures of you are some of my favourites and I’m actually really proud of them and-” Jughead silenced her fretting with a kiss.
“It’s ok, Betts. So what if I have to be displayed before our neanderthal peers for a day or two. I don’t mind if it’s what you want,” he murmured, feeling a warmth spread throughout his chest at her responding soft smile. Betty had been asked to create a display as part of the photography course, to be put up in the hallway of none other than their beloved Riverdale High. Jughead pulled his beanie further down on his head and averted his gaze to the ground, preparing to make his way through the mocking whispers and get to class as quickly as possible.
As he expected there were eyes turning to him from all angles as he made his way to class, whispers reaching his ears in a dull buzzing hum.
“Hi, Jughead.” He turned to the unexpected party.
“Err, hi, Ethel,” he said warily, eyes darting towards Betty for explanation. She just shrugged.
“I just wanted to tell you those pictures of you are so great. You look… really cool,” she finished, cheeks turning pink. Betty tried to turn her giggle into a cough unsuccessfully, Jughead shoving an elbow delicately into her ribs.
“Um, thanks, I guess?” he replied lamely.
“No problem!” Ethel replied chirpily, turning to walk down the hall. Betty’s laugh came out full force now they were alone.
“Looks like someone has taken on the role as Riverdale High’s new teen heart-throb,” she laughed, eyes gleaming with mischief. Jughead groaned.
“This is all your fault, Cooper,” he mumbled. She kissed his cheek, causing him to roll his eyes. He couldn’t stay mad at her for long.
“Hey there, Jughead!” The voice came from behind them. They turned to see none other than Ginger Lopez hurtling towards them. “Great pictures! Who knew beneath all that doom and gloom you cleaned up into a hottie. Very young Leo,” she winked. Jughead felt Betty stiffen besides him - she’d never cared for Ginger much. His eyes went wide as he watched Ginger raise her arm, hand coming to rest on his jacket sleeve, a giggle escaping her lips. “Hey, what do you say we-” Her sentence was cut off abruptly.
“Juggie, we’re going to be late to class. Nice seeing you, Ginger.” Betty’s voice dripped with sugary sweet pleasantness. Jughead bit his lip as Betty leaned into his side, wrapping a hand round his arm. He followed her, casting one last glance at a bewildered Ginger before turning to his girlfriend. He could practically see the steam coming out of her ears.
“So, about this new teen heart-throb status…” he began, unable to resist teasing her more. She narrowed her eyes at him, the uptilted corners of her lips giving her away.
Characters: Derek Morgan x Reader Words: 1511 Requested by @tardis-is-mine :
Ok, I need some Derek Morgan smut in my life. I
honestly don’t care what the plot is, I just need that big, smart, sexy hunk of
man meat in my life. Pretty please? I’ll even buy the whipped cream to spray on
like your eyes were going to fall shut permanently at any moment as you stared
at the paperwork on your desk.
heard Derek’s voice behind you. No matter who he was talking to, his voice
always sounded so silky, smooth, and sultry. It was even worse when he was
talking to you. That’s when he actually tried to make his voice sound sexy.
looked up at him, your head lulling back as you tried to focus on the tall,
dark, handsome man behind you.
to go home,” he said, “You’re falling asleep.”
finish,” you whined slightly.
can’t even function right now,” he said, “Come on. You can finish the paperwork
on Monday. I’m taking you home.”
but really couldn’t argue. You weren’t even close to finished and you were so
tired you couldn’t really do much, “Okay.”
helped you get your things together and helped you stand up, “My poor baby,” he
said, putting his arm around you as you walked to the front of the building,
“I’ll take good care of you.”
Sam Wilson x POC Reader Word
Count: 2.6k+ Warning:
fluff, language, angst, emotional abuse mentions, Eventual smut, that signature Foster SLOW BURN (I’m not even sorry anymore)
Sam learns the consequences of putting friendships on hold to save the world.
Asking for help is never easy, especially when you feel like you’re in too
deep. Bucky proves to be trustworthy. Bonus: Tony Stark’s legendary generosity.
Wow, the response of the first chapter surprised the hell out of me. Thank you
for your kind words! I hope you enjoy this next chapter! When will I learn
how to write stories less than 1k words long? Never apparently.
“Safest Place to Hide” ~ Backstreet
you see me, here I am, Standing
here where I’ve always been, And
when the words are not enough, I
climb inside your heart and I’d still find, You’re my safest place to hide.”