Samuel Seo x Reader: Morning Routine
Sammy looks after you in the morning
Samuel is very particular about his morning schedule. He typically starts his day like this:
5:00 am - workout in his home gym
6:15 am - shower and grooming routine
6:45 am - get ready and dressed
7:00 am - coffee and a simple nutritious breakfast
7:30 am - leave for work
You start your day by rolling out of your bed too late, frantically running around trying to get ready, and rushing out the door.
The first time Samuel observes that, after living together and having an unexpectedly slow morning, his lips thinned at your terrible disorganisation.
His routine changes. Just slightly.
One cup of coffee becomes two. One simple nutritious breakfast becomes two.
.
.
"Morning."
A hand reaches out to stroke your hair.
Still one foot in dreamland, you blearily open your eyes, and see Samuel crouched down eye-level next to your bedside. You may have been having a nice dream, but damn, this view and the reality is much better.
Barely even registering his hand on you, your body as if on autopilot nuzzles into it anyway, intuitively knowing that comfort anywhere.
This routine, a constant yet never old. Almost everyday, the exact same pressure to brush your hair back to rouse you, the heat of his fingers, the callouses. The little huff of amusement as you nudge his hand with your nose, half asleep but still wanting to be close to him, so he can cup your face and run his thumb over your cheek.
"Coffee and breakfast on your bedside table," Samuel says, kissing you on the forehead and standing up.
He looks immaculate, as always. Far too awake for this time in the morning. Hair precisely groomed, not a wrinkle to be seen with his suit. Smelling expensive and intense and dark, scent matching well with the person.
"What time is it?"
"Time for you to wake up, Y/N."
"Nooo, Sammy-" and you snuggle into his hand again.
"I told you you don't have to work. I can look after you."
"I know."
And true, you don't have to. But you like the work you do. The small little contributions you make. Being self-sufficent, to an extent.
Another day, another dollar it is.
Resigning yourself to your fate, you relinquish your hold on your boyfriend, sitting up and sip your coffee. The first hit of caffeine to kick start your day.
It's adorable, really, and more than your heart can bear most mornings - the fact that Samuel prepares this for you and added your wellbeing into his own routine too.
Once you finish your coffee, and satisfied that there's little chance you're going to fall back asleep, Samuel says goodbye with a final kiss on the lips.
"See you tonight, Y/N."
It's the same routine almost everyday, yet neither of you tire of it.
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I don’t understand how people and sit there and put the entire blame of the whole Dance with Dragons conflict on Alicent. I know people have biases but I don’t understand how you can watch as all of these men commit horrid deeds with grievous consequences and then go on and pretend like it’s all Alicent’s fault. This entire scenario is only possible in the first place because Viserys decided to strip his first wife of any bodily autonomy and agency she had and ripped a baby out of her without her consent . A torture of a procedure that brutally killed her. Following that, he decided to marry a teenager, maritally rapes her and treats her like a baby making machine, without any regards to the potential consequences or how it’s impacting anybody. Just because he’s two seconds away from rotting away doesn’t remove the unwashable stains he has made and how he has laid out this conflict to be even possible.
The line of succession ended up being changed in the first place because Daemon can’t stop himself from doing nonsensical attention-seeking half-assed stunts (like extreme public torture, grooming his teenage niece and later starting a whole war) that have grievous aftereffects, once again with no regards to their real brutal consequences, all in order to get his brother’s attention and validation. In fact, this whole scenario only ever had the potential to happen due to the patriarchal monarchy that Westerosi men created alongside the Targaryen’s blatant lack of preparation and established rules for a scenario where the next ruler would be a woman, and the seven kingdoms staunch refusal to genuinely accept one as their ruler.
All that and people will still choose to pin this whole thing on Alicent, with no consideration to the fact that she was pimped by her dad, when she was 15, to an old man, and had no say or choice in the matter due to her being inside a system that strips most women of any real choice or say in their lives. It’s like this fandom would rather spend over a month demonizing a female character (like Young Alicent) for not being the ‘’perfect’’ victim to patriarchal violence due to and based on a hypocritical usage of modern standards and using rhetorics steeped in rape culture than hold male characters accountable (for longer than two seconds) for torturing and killing their wives in explicitly sexist frameworks. That aside, Alicent absolutely plays a part in this whole conflict (as she grows older), as does Rhaenyra, to the point where both end up becoming the emblematic faces of this chain of events. However, if you can’t see how the conflict itself is only made possible due to and founded on sexist biases, gendered violence, grooming, sexual abuse and negligence that stem from all these men in the highest positions of power, then you are simply not paying attention.
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Totality - Undertronic
Seth and Sine spend time admiring the eclipse. Written in one hour, 832 words.
“Do you know how beautiful your art is?”
Seth stared at the sky with clasped hands. A gentle breeze blew past - Zephyros’ sigh, he supposed. He couldn’t help but wonder who held that God Soul now. Seth had always wanted to meet the wind god; perhaps the two could make a good pair.
What a silly thought.
Golden hair fell into his eyes, yet he never moved. Never took his gaze off of his work. Not a second could be missed. He heard laughter behind him.
“What are you doing?” Sine reached from behind and brushed Seth’s hair out of his face. He couldn’t help but notice how his touch lingered longer than it had to. He couldn’t help but notice how he didn’t mind. “You can hardly see through all of that.”
“Like you would know,” Seth quipped. The skeleton behind him snorted.
“Hey, I can make some guesses.”
Sine crept into the corner of Seth’s vision. He pulled off his hood and craned his neck to match Seth. One hand rested in the pocket of his cloak; the other nearly startled Seth out of his trance when it grazed his fingers.
“I could get us something. Tea. Whiskey. Coffee, extra-strong. On the house. Off the rocks. I could go on.”
Seth grinned. “No, thank you. This is enough.”
“But you don’t have anything?”
Seth held his tongue. This was more than enough.
“Won’t it be too dark?”
Seth paused. The thought did cross his mind, but he was not one to be afraid of the dark. A bit of daytime nightfall wouldn’t bother him - he didn’t know what it would take to make him fear the dark, but this was not it. “Not with you around.” He made a vague gesture to the skeleton’s ears. Their calming light was sufficient to keep the growing shadows at bay. Sine gently scratched at one of Seth’s clasped hands, and he let it fall open. The two looked upwards to Seth’s work of art.
The eclipse neared its totality.
“Do you think,” Sine started, “Do you think…”
Seth cocked his head to the side.
“Nevermind.”
The remaining sunlight faded around them.
“No no, what were you saying? Please.”
The shadows cut deeper.
“It’s silly. It’s just a silly thought.”
Sine’s light danced across his face.
“You know those are my favourite.”
“Do you think we could stay like this forever?”
And the world fell yet darker.
“I don’t want this to end. It’s beautiful. Look at it,” Sine mused.
“There’s nothing to look at.”
“Exactly. You did this. You did this, Seth. Look at what you can do.”
Sine’s grip tightened around his hand. He felt dizzy from how his heart beat so unusually. They both knew it was a silly thought. The planets would pass, life would go on. Every couple decades or so, Seth would sit down and repeat the process, as this soul had done for hundreds of thousands of years. This was nothing special. This was just as the last ten thousand had been. It was the same one, the same sun that had people worshipped long before these souls reached their hosts. This couldn’t last forever. Their tails curled around each other. Maybe not forever.
“...I can make you a compromise.”
Seth couldn’t make it last forever. Not even a minute. The others would notice; planets were not something to be trifled with. The Death Well flashed in his mind. Yes, that was a fate he would prefer to avoid.
But a moment wouldn’t hurt.
He squeezed Sine’s hand back, flesh caressing bone. “I think…”
Sine smiled. “You sure about that one?”
“You- Come on, I lost my train of thought.”
“It’s alright,” said Sine. Seth tore his eyes away from his art to meet his. “I think that I think so too.”
The light began to fade back in around them. Seth quickly turned to hide the flush of his face. If anything, it only made Sine look at him more. “You’re kinda cute when you think you’re being slick, y’know.”
Seth exhaled sharply and turned away. “Come on. These always tire me out,” he lied. As much as he hoped Sine wouldn’t catch on, he knew it was a losing battle.
“Aah, so Mister Destruction needs a nap?”
“Shut-” His words were cut short by his own stammering. Sine cackled behind him. He sighed and made his way back inside.
“C’mon, you know you love me.”
They both stopped mid-step. The daytime betrayed both of their expressions. They simply stared at each other in silence.
“I…” The words caught in Seth’s throat. He knew what he wanted to say. He knew what he needed to say.
I think…
No.
I know…
He put his hand back into Sine’s. His gaze softened. Perhaps not everything had to be said.
It didn’t matter how dark it had gotten; Seth could still see one thing clearly. His work could never compare to the art that had stood beside him.
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more best friend james with no boundaries headcanons please 🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽 like sirius and remus definitely side eye the two of you but they don’t ever make it noticeable 🫢 they’re just waiting for the two of you to finally get together 😵💫 like james definitely rests his hands in between your thighs when he’s cold and remus is always muttering to sirius how that is definitely not best friend behaviour
Sirius and Remus stop in tandem, beat up shoes stomping to a halt in the middle of the floor. It would be comical if their gazes weren't so scrutinizing and judgmental towards you where you're curled up in James's bed.
"Are we interrupting something?" Remus raises a brow at you where you lay pressed to James's chest, his hands wrapped around your waist and tucked into the space between your thighs. He'd been griping about the chill of the air against his hands after realizing they wouldn't stay tucked into the sleeves of his sweater, so when he'd pried your thighs apart to slip his hands between them, you'd let him get his fill of your body heat.
"Jus' the most boring book I've ever read," James drawls, popping his head lazily off of the pillow to stare at his friends, "Don't even know why she reads this shit, anyways."
"I read it because I like it," You hum, used to James's disdain of your more 'boring' (read: not dangerous, reckless, or foolish) hobbies, "But I'm more curious as to why you read it over my shoulder, James, if it's so boring and awful."
"Not much choice," He reasons, but you both know he could shut his eyes if he wanted to be free from your novel, and you squeeze your thighs together in hopes of pressing his hands painfully together as a reprimand.
James makes a sort of stunted groan as his knuckles scrape painfully together, but when you release your grip, he doesn't pull away. He merely settles his head back against the pillow, eyes sneakily roving over the page you're reading.
"Remus, a word." Sirius grabs the man by his right scarred hand, tugging him towards the closet. They disappear inside together, and when the door shuts behind them, and Sirius manages to swat the sleeve of his leather jacket out of his face, he stares at Remus with wide, urgent eyes.
"Did you see that?" Sirius gawps, as if maybe Remus hadn't noticed James's hands resting inches from your core, "That is not normal friend behavior?"
"I bet two galleons they kiss within the month," Remus wagers with a smirk on his face, and the expression is contagious where it transfers to Sirius right away.
"Within the week," Sirius solidifies his stance, holding a hand out for Remus to shake, "You've got a deal, Moony."
--
The moment the closet door shuts behind Remus and Sirius, you crane your neck to look backwards at James.
"They're not even trying to hide it anymore," You breathe, keeping your voice low so that the two boys can't hear you, "What do you think they're doing in there?"
"Kissing, probably," James snorts, "Pulling someone into a closet by the hand is not normal friend behavior."
"When are they just gonna give it up?" You scoff, twisting back around to resume reading, "They're so obvious."
"Dunno, love." James hums, leaning forwards to press a kiss to your shoulder where your tank top has slid off of the skin there. He readjusts his hands between your thighs, nestling them imperceptibly closer to your heated core, "Some people are just oblivious."
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