season one: a love story


8x12 | As Time Goes By

Guh, this scene! It feels like a perfect cocktail of my favourite kinks: Sleeping Dean! Sam’s amazing bedhair! Sam hitting Dean awake like a little kid! Purgatory survivor Dean simply curling himself further into his pillow because he knows it’s Sam and Sam means safety! Single layers! Grumpy princess Dean! Bossy Sam! Sam’s huffy chest! Dean’s cute socked feet! Full bodyshots! …


PRODUCE 101 S02 fav trainee ( 2 / ? ) : ong seongwoo 


I know that feel Greg, I know that feel. 

more poses more lineart more testing…♡ // twitter

crossroadscastiel  asked:

I LOVE HOW YOU WRITE WILL'S NIPPLES and also the way you write Will's everything tbh. I feel like no one understands what a terrible tease Will is quite like you. ALSO The Game is my most favorite thing you've ever written YOU ARE FAB NEVER FORGET IT <3

THANK YOU!!! Please accept some gratuitous s1 nipple fun.

In two hours Will will be giving a lecture in front of fifty aspiring FBI agents. It was nearly nine in the morning and Will was sitting on one of his dining room chairs with his feet in a bucket of hot water, trying to make himself appear relaxed, knowing he would not be able to. Hannibal was too good at reading people and, somehow, especially Will, for Will to feign anything.

He had walked in his sleep last night. Woken by Buster nipping at his toes. He had wandered into the middle of his fields, his house a distant dot in the horizon. He had had to pull seven prickly thorns out of his legs and feet. 

He had called Hannibal and Hannibal had driven here despite Will’s half-hearted protests. He didn’t want to be alone, but he didn’t want to be seen like this by Hannibal.

Hannibal, with his hair loose, had given him one look and knew everything and still he kissed Will. Delicately and lingering until Will trembled and was grasping at Hannibal’s jacket. 

“You need to relax. To calm down.” Hannibal had said. Will had simply nodded. Anything would be good, he did not care.

Hannibal filled one of Will’s buckets with hot water from the shower. He eased Will’s feet inside and smiled when Will moaned, the ache of his heels and between his toes easing out of him.

Form the kitchen, Hannibal had brought out Will’s half used bottle of olive oil. He held it up, like an offering that Will did not quite understand.

“Will you let me touch you, Will?” Hannibal said, as if Will would say no. Refuse him now, after everything.

“Yeah.” Will said. Please.


Hannibal stood in front of Will and poured oil onto Will’s chest. It soaked into Will’s shirt completely, causing the light blue cotton to turn transparent. He began to pant. Unable to move his feet, to spread his legs wider, he could only shift in his seat.

“I feel like a pig about to be roasted whole.”

“An apt analogy, though I don’t plan on eating you as thoroughly as that.” Hannibal said. He rolled his sleeves up. His suit jacket folded neatly over a chair on the opposite side of the table. He had a professional air about him, clinical almost, if not for the slight tremble of his hands.

He pulled a chair up behind Will and sat, embracing Will from behind.

“It’s all right.” Hannibal said into Will’s ear. He kissed Will’s neck and his hands–big and blunt and precise–gripped his thighs and in one long, smooth, horribly wonderful motion, dragged up Will, over his hips, fingers glancing just shy of his thin tented boxers, over his belly that heaved with every breath, and stopping on his chest to squeeze.

The oil smoothed every motion of Hannibal’s hands. His pinches were like liquid, flowing from one harsh pinch of his nipple to soothing them easily with the cup of his palm. He kneaded Will’s chest, lighting every nerve inside of Will, knowing exactly how to work him up and up until Will was clutching at the back of Hannibal’s hands, saying without words harder harder harder.

Will tensed, his body clenching and convulsing as he came, his feet kicking out and knocking the bucket over, water splashing all over the floor.

Will held Hannibal to him, listened to how heavy Hannibal was breathing and without needing to look over his shoulder knew Hannibal was flushed and spent.

“I think I’m going to fall asleep right here.” Will said. It was true. He could fall asleep like this and worry about cleaning before he had to leave. A ten minute nap sounded amazing.

“Let me clean you up.” Hannibal moved his hands and Will’s entire body twitched. He gasped, nearly squeaked. Hannibal paused and then squeezed him again this time, rolling his nipples between his fingers, his shirt adding coarse, wet friction. 

“Maybe in a minute.” Will said shakily. “Can we do that again?”


The Hound brought him outside the King’s chambers and Jon walked in. He smiled seeing Ghost walking to him. Jon bend and scratched the direwolf’s head. He couldn’t leave his direwolf up in in Winterfell again and the weather down South was cold enough for Ghost and his thick white coat. Daenerys was sitting by the fireplace, her belly more pronounced now that she was in her fifth month with their second child.

Jon walked behind her and kissed the top of her head. Daenerys turned to look at him and smiled. She looked so beautiful and Jon couldn’t help himself that he kissed her invitingly plush, pink lips. Groaning softly as he pulled his lips away. He’d kiss her forever if he could.

“Is our son asleep?” Jon asked her and his wife nodded.

He walked to the wooden crib by the bed where his chubby ten month old son was lying down, sleeping peacefully. It always calmed Jon, seeing his son sleeping in peace. Whatever burdens he had just seemed to fade away as he looked at Daeron. Jon took his gloves off and touched Daeron’s cherubic face gently. He then sat on the chair just across his wife. Daenerys smiled and touched her round tummy.

“How was your meeting with Qyburn?” She asked him.

“Too many procedures just to put a crown on my head…” He said. Jon sighed and looked at his wife, he reached out his hand to clasped hers. He wondered if it was the right thing to do.

“Are you sure about this Dany?” He asked her. “The Iron Throne is yours. It is what you’ve always wanted.”

“It is not,” Daenerys said with a smile. “I already have what I’ve always wanted.”

“And what is that?” Jon asked, dark eyes looking at his wife tenderly

“A home Jon. Family, children…a husband who loves me just as much as I love him.”

He smiled when he heard that and got out from the chair. Jon knelt before his wife and kissed her round belly where his child lied inside.

“You will always be my Queen, you know that. There is no one else I would bend the knee to.” Jon said as he took both her hands and clasped it tight. “And I love you very much Daenerys Stormborn.”

“I love you too Jon…” Daenerys said softly to him. She sighed and bend to kiss the top of his head gently.

Jon just knelt there for a while, resting his tired head on his wife’s lap while Daenerys ran her fingers gently through his hair, soothing his scalp. It was comforting to him and soon he closed his eyes thinking that he could just fall asleep if he wanted to.

What will I do without you my Love? I hope I’ll never find out…


“I don’t know what I’ve done, but I’ll leave you alone from now on if that’s what you want. You want to know why I’ll leave you alone? Because I care about your feelings more than mine.”

anonymous asked:

I don't want to say goodbye. I don't want to lose Captain Swan!

I know. It’s really, really hard.  

My advice is to let yourself grieve. For those of us in fandom, something that has been a huge part of our lives is coming to an end. Its more than just a show, it’s a community and a hobby, and a big part of many of our lives. It’s good to recognize that and it’s okay to feel that in your gut. It hurts to know something that is such an integral part of our every day is going to be very different from here on out. 

However, the beautiful thing is that most of it is not going way for some time. The fandom will continue, the community will continue, and the characters will live on (whether on screen occasionally) or in fanwork. There is so much fic out there I haven’t read, and so much more that will still be created. Art and gif sets and meta and discussions, fans will still be creating long after the show is over.

So after you grieve then celebrate, because over five seasons we have witnessed one of the greatest fictional love stories ever told. We got to be a part of the epic journey of how the lost princess Emma Swan was found and fell in love with the fearsome pirate king Killian “Captain Hook” Jones and I don’t know about you, but it has brought me so much joy, and so many happy and entertaining hours that I can’t be anything but blissful and content when I think of how it all came together in a perfect episode that showcased their perfect love and their perfect wedding. 

It’s okay to be sad, but also don’t forget to be happy. Captain Swan is a gift and it’s not done giving.