#@hotemotionalmess

[essiefreds]

This one is focused more on the second half of the ask. Hopefully I concluded it to @hotemotionalmess’s standards.

Word Count: 3926

"So... you and the Elf, huh?"

Kili looked up from his stone, and glanced across the walkway to your own cell. "What?" he asked, confused.

"You uh... you were making friends with her," you replied, brushing your fingers through your hair in a way you hoped was casual. "You like her?"

Kili shrugged. "She's nicer than the other ones we've run into," he stated, and then he returned his attention to his stone.

You sighed, and settled down on the floor of your cell.

A lot had happened in a span of a few hours. You'd gotten lost in Mirkwood, been attacked by spiders, been freed from said spiders by Bilbo, attacked by spiders again, and then saved from the same spiders by a group of Wood Elves, who had then promptly take you prisoner and led you to the Kingdom of Mirkwood, which was where you now were, locked up in cells.

Needless to say, it had been quite a day.

And, all the while, you'd been paying very close attention to Kili and his interactions with the pretty redheaded she-Elf who'd been apart of the group that had saved and captured the company. You had no idea what her name was, and you didn't particularly care.

At least, you hadn't cared until she'd shown up in the cells despite the celebration that the other Elves were having somewhere else within the kingdom, for the express purpose of talking to Kili. You'd listened, closely, while he regaled her with tales that he'd already told you. You didn't know why you were so interested in their conversation, but it was definitely hard to ignore them when they were literally across the way from you.

Now, however, the she-Elf was gone, and Kili was gazing down at his stone, which had been in the she-Elf's hands for a good amount of time during their conversation.

Something that burned like dying coals had settled deep in your belly, and you weren't ready to let the topic fall.

"Hey." Kili glanced up again. "Don't... y'know, let her get inside your head."

"Get inside my head?" Kili asked, frowning. "What are you even talking about?"

You opened your mouth to respond, and then realized that you didn't know what you'd been trying to say, so you closed it again.

Kili shook his head at you. "Keep your nose in your own business, Y/N." With that, he turned his back on you entirely.

Frustrated with him, and yourself, you turned your back to your the cell gate as well, and crossed your arms.

Since the mishap in the Misty Mountains, the two of you had been on shaky ground at best. You didn't know why Kili was angry with you; you'd only been trying to keep him safe when you'd gone after the goblin that had been about to attack him from behind, and ended up getting hurt yourself.

You remembered the interaction afterwards, when you'd actually had time to talk to him, after he'd yelled at you in the middle of the battle with the goblins and the escape from the Misty Mountains. It was after the Orc attack, and the eagles had come to save you, and deposited you on a safe cliff lower down the mountain.

"Kili," you began, following him as he walked away a few paces from the rest of the company to deal with a bleeding cut on his arm.

"Don't, Y/N," he grumbled without looking at you. "I don't want to hear it."

"Hear what?" you demanded. "Hear that I was only trying to help you? It's not my fault!"

"No, I know it's not," Kili muttered, wrapping the bit of cloth he'd torn from his shirt around the cut. "It's mine."

You frowned at him. "Yours? No, Kili, it wasn't anyone's fault! That goblin just turned around to attack me once I hit him."

"I should've been paying more attention," Kili mumbled, almost to himself.

You didn't know what else to say to him. "It's not... no, it wasn't your fault, and it wasn't mine, either." You kicked a stray rock, and it went rolling down the hill. "I only wanted to help."

"Yeah, well, don't," Kili grumbled, a bit louder this time. He shook out his arm and shrugged past you, back to the company.

With a sigh, you buried your head in your arms, wanting to take back your decision to join the company, take back all the decisions you'd made over the course of the journey. At first, you'd thought, things were going great, but that thought was long gone.

"I want to go home," you whispered to no one.

"Y/N!"

You glanced up, shrieked, and ducked back down. An Elf flew over your head into the river, and you peered over the edge of your barrel again, exhaling.

Bilbo, who'd gone missing as soon as the Elves had shown up to kill off the spiders, had reappeared some time ago, with a brilliant plan to escape the kingdom of Mirkwood. Unfortunately, the idea of riding in barrels down a raging river hadn't been paired with the idea of Elves appearing and chasing the barrels as they moved down the raging river.

Nor had it been paired with the idea of there being a floodgate further down the river, that most of the barrels the Dwarves were riding in were now bumping against.

You peered over the edge of your own barrel and looked around. The Dwarves were either yelling at the floodgate to open, or yelling at the Elves that were lining up on both sides of the river to capture them. Bilbo was clinging to the edge of an empty barrel, trying to scramble into it.

You looked around, desperately trying to find something that you could do to help, but before you could move, the Elf standing at the top of the floodgate suddenly toppled over the edge of it into the water.

"Orcs!" someone shouted just as a flood of them start to push through the forest on either side of the river, weapons out in full force. They first went after the Elves that were still running to catch up to where the barrels had been stopped, and then they turned their attention to the defenseless Dwarves and two Hobbits.

"Uh oh," you whimpered, noticing one look you square in the eye, and raise a bow.

Before it fired, however, it changed its mind, and let its arrow fly into a different target.

You turned around, and your eyes went wide when you saw Kili, who'd managed to climb to the top of the floodgate without drawing your attention, fall to one knee, the arrow embedded into his calf.

"Kili!" Fili exclaimed from his barrel, where he'd been busy fending off an Orc with a sword he'd found somewhere.

Kili looked down at the arrow in his calf for a moment, his face screwed up in pain. He then reached up and attempted to pull the lever that would open the floodgate, but failed miserably. Instead, he fell flat on his back, and you gripped the edge of your barrel tightly with your nails.

"Y/N, do not," someone warned from behind you, and you turned to find Fili glaring at you. "I know what you're thinking; stay in your barrel."

Before you could retort that Kili needed help, there was an angry cry from above you, and you watched as an Orc jump out of the bushes, sword brandished to kill a prone Kili.

Instead, an arrow flew into its head, and it collapsed, dropping its sword neatly into your barrel. Before picking it up, you looked around to see who had killed the Orc, and frowned when you spotted the same she-Elf from before further down the river, busy fending off another Orc.

You grabbed for the sword and threw it to someone who'd put it to good use, before looking upwards at Kili.

"C'mon, Kee," you whispered.

As though he'd heard you, Kili let out a groan and sat up, reaching for the lever again. He managed to pull it down this time, and then he collapsed once more in exhaustion.

"Kili!" you and Fili exclaimed at the same time as the barrels started to move forward through the now open floodgate.

Kili grunted, pulled himself over the edge of the gate, and flopped roughly down into the closest barrel, which happened to be your own. He inhaled sharply, and you winced when you glanced down and saw the wound on his leg.

"We'll need to take care of that," you commented in your best 'not-that-concerned' tone of voice.

Thankfully, Kili let out a hoarse laugh. "Probably a good idea," he agreed, and then he looked at something from over your head. "Duck."

You did so, without question, and Kili caught a sword that was thrown to him and cut down an Orc that was sailing in the direction of your barrel.

"Good one," you told him, straightening up.

"Thanks."

It was poisoned. That much was obvious. The skin around the wound was turning black, and tendrils of black were working their way up and down Kili's leg. If you'd known more about such things, you would've been able to say it was poisoned, but because you didn't, the only thing you could say to Fili when he asked was that it was infected.

"He needs... something," you said, looking at Oin for help. Without his earhorn, he hadn't been as much help as he usually was, but he'd done his own diagnostic on Kili's arrow wound, and from the look on you face, as well as Fili's, he was able to nod in confirmation of your statement.

"We don't know what, though," you went on to the blond prince, who glanced down at his brother, who was lying on the table in the bargeman's kitchen.

When Thorin had told Kili he couldn't cross the lake to get to the Lonely Mountain on the other side, there had been plenty of shock and frustrations exchanged between the uncle and his two nephews. Obviously, Kili didn't think it was fair, and Fili wasn't about to go without his younger brother. Oin had elected to stay behind with the wounded, as was his job, and you...

Well.

You couldn't leave them alone. There wasn't an ounce of sense in any of their heads, even put together.

By the time you'd encountered Bofur, running to catch the boat but just missing it, Kili had turned a sickly white color, and the dark circles under his eyes were standing out rather prominently. It was you who'd suggested you all go back to Bard's home, even though there was little hope of him helping you after the way he'd been treated by most of the party. Still, Kili was sick. He needed help.

So, you'd gone to him, and at first he'd been ready to turn your little branch of the company away, but then he'd seen Kili, and he'd opened the door a bit wider.

Now, Kili was lying on the kitchen table, a basket of nuts beneath his head, and the company members that had remained behind were surrounding it, with Bard and his children standing off to the side.

"Is he going to die?" you heard the smaller girl whisper to her father, and you turned away from them before you could hear Bard's response.

"What are we supposed to do to help him?" Fili asked, probably a bit more hotly than he intended. No one was blaming him, however. Kili was in obvious pain, and Fili was, too.

"I don't know," you replied quietly. "I wish I did."

"I just need something to bring down his fever," Oin muttered angrily. He turned to look at Bard. "Do you have any Kingsfoil?"

Bard looked perplexed. "No, it's a weed. We feed it to the pigs."

Bofur let out a noise of understanding from where he stood near the window, and he jumped up. "I have it!" he declared, and then he pointed to the distressed Kili, who was writhing a bit as another pain struck him. "Don't move!"

"Bofur!" you exclaimed, but he was already racing out of the house. You started to go after him, and then the house shook.

At the same time, there was a boom from the direction of the mountain. Everyone looked up, but you all knew right away what it was.

The dragon was stirring.

"It's coming from the mountain," Bain announced after hurrying to the window.

Fili left Kili's side for the first time since you'd returned to the house, and approached Bard.

"You should leave," he said. "Take your children and go."

"Go where?" Bard asked, looking down at him. "There is no where to go."

Fili gazed at him for a moment longer, and then he turned and walked back towards the table.

You saw the little girl grab her father's arm, again.

"Are we going to die, Da?" she asked softly.

Bard offered her a small smile, but there was no heart in it. "No, darling."

"The dragon, it's going to kill us," she said, gazing up at him in fear.

Bard stared at her, and then at his two elder children, before he glanced upwards and yanked down the drying rack that was hanging from one of the ceiling boards. He gazed down at it for a moment, and then he looked at his children again.

"Not if I kill it first," he said, softly, and then his shoulders set in determination. "Bain, I need you to come with me. Girls, please, stay here."

With that, the bargeman swept out of the house with his son running after him.

"What does he aim to do, get himself killed?" Oin exclaimed, running to the window.

"I think he's going to kill the dragon," you murmured. Before you could let yourself think about it too hard, however, Kili moaned weakly, and you turned your gaze down to him.

"Y/N..." His voice was low, tired, but still filled with enough pain that you could hear it, and you looked at Oin.

"Is there really nothing we can do, until Bofur gets back?" you asked the elder Dwarf, and he blinked at you for a moment before he glanced down at the floor, where the plants that had been hanging from whatever Bard had pulled down had fallen. He shuffled over to them and bent down, sifting through them for something useful.

You moved to help, but Kili touched your hand, and you paused, glancing back down at him.

"Don't leave," he whispered.

You let out a breath, and glanced across him towards where Fili stood, his fists clenched at his sides. Looking back down at Kili, you smiled as sweetly as you were able and brushed a strand of hair out of his face.

"We're not going anywhere," you promised.

A door opened somewhere, and you looked up, hoping it was Bofur, but it was only Bain, returning without Bard.

"Y/N, I need to tell you something," Kili said.

You glanced down at him, and gave him a more real grin this time. "Don't you think it can wait until you feel better?"

"No, I n-need to tell you, in c-case I don't," Kili insisted, pressing down on your hand with as much urgency as he could. "Please, j-just listen."

You looked at Fili again, and he nodded once, backing away to help Oin sift through the herbs.

You turned your attention back to Kili. "I'm listening," you murmured.

Kili took in shuddering breath, and it must have hurt, because his eyes closed in pain. You waited for him, turning your hand over so that you could take the one he'd rested on top of it.

After a moment, Kili opened his eyes again, and looked at you. "I-I'm sorry I was mean to you, af-after the goblins. You didn't deserve it."

"Kili," you began, fully prepared to remind him that you'd already discussed this, but he shook his head as best as he was able.

"Let me talk."

You closed your mouth, and nodded.

"I was m-mad at myself, first for not protecting you, and th-hen for not teaching you how to protect yourself af-afterwards." He paused and squeezed his eyes shut, his grip tightening on your hand. He didn't groan or complain, but you could feel it all in his hold on your hand.

When the worst of it had passed, he opened his eyes again, and you saw that they were even more bleary than they had been.

"Kili, maybe you should stop," you advised.

"N-no, I have to get this out," he decided, leaving spaces between words because of his panting. He licked his lips, which were very dry, and started up again, "I on-only pushed you away, and I'm sorry."

You gazed down at him, wanting to cry and not wanting to at the same time.

A single tear escaped when you blinked, and you passed your free hand through his sweaty hair.

"Kee, you have nothing to apologize for," you told him, softly, and he let out a hoarse laugh.

"Sure, you say that now, wh-hen I'm dying," he said, and then his eyes moved past your face and seemed to take on a look of... emptiness.

And, just like that, the grip on your hand went slack.

"Oh, no," you said, squeezing hard enough for the both of you. "Don't... don't do this, Kili. Bofur is going to be back soon, with the Kingsfoil. And you'll be all right, I promise."

Kili didn't react, and you searched his face desperately. "Kili? Kili! Kili, please!"

Before you could turn around and scream yourself, Bard's eldest daughter screamed instead, and came backing into the house from the balcony.

You turned, and gasped when you saw an Orc entering the house through one door, and, from the commotion in the other room, it seemed that an Orc had just entered through another.

"No," you managed, and then you looked around for a weapon, but came up with nothing. The Orc stalked towards you, his own sword glinting dangerously in the candlelight, and you leaned back against the table, ready to defend Kili as best as you could.

Before you needed to worry about it, Fili jumped between you and the Orc, weirdo one of the 'weapons' that Bard had brought to the Dwarves the evening before.

The Orc growled, and lunged.

Fili fended him off with the staff of the weapon he was holding, and then he grunted and swung it, heavy end first. It sailed through the air and slammed into the Orc's head, knocking him out cold.

Fili dropped the weapon, breathing heavily, and looked at you.

"Kili," you started, turning back to the Dwarf, and Fili hurried around to the other side of the table.

"We need to get out of the house!" he exclaimed as Oin rushed into the room.

"Help me, then!" you shouted right back, and then you started to sling one of Kili's arms around your neck.

Orcs were coming from all entrances of the house now, and you spotted one coming towards you.

"Fili!"

Fili looked up, but before he could move away from helping Kili sit up, another blade sliced through the Orc's neck, and it collapsed to the ground. When you looked up from it, you found yourself looking at the she-Elf that had been the bane of your existence for a good day or so.

Another Elf, the blond one that had been the leader of the group to capture the company, was busy killing other Orcs that had entered the house.

"How -"

The she-Elf turned away before you could complete your question, to help her companion, and you turned back to Kili, who had started moving again once Fili had shaken him hard enough. He was groaning, eyes darting around as though he had no idea of where he was.

"Kili," you said, placing a hand against his cheek. He was even hotter than he had been before, if that was possible. You forced yourself to face it, and glanced up as the sounds of fighting faded away.

"You killed them all," you heard Bain say.

"There are others," the blond Elf responded.

Oin hurried over again, and opened one of Kili's eyes. "We're losing him," he said, glancing up and between you and Fili.

"Tauriel."

You looked over at the two Elves, and watched as the blond one exited the house, after the Orcs, no doubt. The she-Elf, Tauriel, glanced between the open door and the table where Kili lay, and then she turned, obviously about to go after her companion.

"Wait!" you exclaimed, and she stopped, glancing over her shoulder towards you.

Kili moaned, and your eyes flooded with tears. "Can you help him?"

She gazed at you, her eyes wide, but before she could speak, there was huffing from outside the door, and Bofur raced up, holding a green herb in his hands.

Tauriel turned to him, and gasped, taking it into her hands.

"Athelas," she murmured, just loud enough for you to hear, and then she turned towards the table again. "Athelas..."

"Please," you whispered, your voice breaking.

She glanced up at you, and something changed on her face.

"What are you doing?" Bofur asked from behind her.

Tauriel looked back down at the weed she was holding, and smiled. "I'm going to save him."

She began giving instructions to Bard's daughters, who rushed about to fulfill them. Tilda hurried to her with a basin of water, and Tauriel dunked the Kingsfoil into it, tearing it apart and washing it all at once.

Kili was becoming more distressed with each passing second, and you moved closer to his head, murmuring to him.

"Easy, Kee, easy," you urged softly, stroking his hair.

"Hold him down!" Tauriel commanded, coming over with the bowl of water. She set it down on the table near Kili's legs and pulled out a clump of wet Kingsfoil. Fili and Oin and Bofur all took hold of his kind and struggled to keep him pressed to the table, even when Tauriel pushed the Kingsfoil against his wound and began to chant in elvish.

Kili screamed, and it was the worst sound you'd ever heard in your life. All the same, you continued to murmur to him, your hand never leaving his hair as he thrashed about, screaming in pain.

The rest of the world faded, and it was just you, and Kili, and a faint echoing of whatever it was that Tauriel was saying. Slowly, Kili began to calm down. His noises became less agonized, less all together. They eventually faded away to nothing, and Kili laid there before you, his eyes glassy, but fixed on you.

"That's it," you said, smiling weakly. "See? It's getting better."

Kili swallowed, and you felt something brush against the hand that wasn't in his hair. You looked down, and saw it was his, trying to take yours. You slid it closer, and his fingers slid through yours, and, although his grip was weak, it was there, and that was enough for you.

You leaned down and pressed a kiss against his forehead, which was still slick with sweat, but at this point, you could care less. "I love you," you whispered to him.

Kili responded by squeezing your hand, and you decided to take that as a form of agreement until he was strong enough to speak on the subject.

#drabble #the hobbit drabble #kili drabble #request #the hobbit #the company of thorin oakenshield #bilbo baggins #fili #kili #oin #bofur #bard #bain #tilda #sigrid #@hotemotionalmess #history has its eyes on queue

[myriadimagines]

77, SW, PT guy Drabble-ship? I'm biracial, dark brown c3 curls, brown eyes, full lips, 5', full hourglass figure. ENFP, sanguine. the mom friend, loves dancing, singing, horseback riding, reading, writing, adventure, fandoms, laughing with friends & family. I have a lot of sibs so I'm naturally a leader/protector type. I'm goofy/witty, empathic, moody, expressive. People assume I'm older than i really am bc of how I carry myself. I'm willful, determined, spirited, & passionate. Thank you!

Characters: Reader x Obi-Wan KenobiWarnings: mentions of violencePrompts: “If you lay a finger on her, I’ll make sure it’s the last thing you do.”Word Count: 412A/N: Hope it’s okay! 

NOT TAKING ANYMORE REQUESTS!

Obi-Wan frowned to himself, slowly rotating in the device he was held captive in. There was nothing but silence in the room, save for the hum of electricity. The door finally swooshed open, and Obi-Wan turned to see Dooku enter the room. Without hesitation, Obi-Wan snapped, “Traitor.”

Dooku circled Obi-Wan, asking about his business on Geonosis and talking about Qui-Gonn, before he revealed, “What if I told you the Republic was now under the control of the Dark Lord of the Sith?” 

“No, that’s not possible.” Obi-Wan replied. “The Jedi would be aware of it.”

“The dark side of the Force has clouded their vision, my friend.” Dooku continued. “Hundreds of senators are now under the influence of a Sith Lord called Darth Sidious.” 

“I don’t believe you.” Obi-Wan responded as Dooku stopped pacing. 

Leaning towards him, Dooku declared, “You must join me, Obi-Wan. And together, we will destroy the Sith!”

“I will never join you, Dooku.” Obi-Wan replied, his voice low as his eyes glistened with determination. Dooku sighed slightly, nodding, before pulling a device from his robe. Obi-Wan’s eyes narrowed as he turned it on, revealing a hologram of a ship. Obi-Wan drew in a sharp breath, instantly recognising the ship, before his expression fell when the cockpit opened, revealing a familiar figure.

“y/n is her name, is it not?” Dooku asked, examining the hologram. “I believe she received your distress signal, and is coming to rescue you.”

Obi-Wan suddenly jerked forward, trying to escape his bonds as if to somehow reach you. Although he would never admit it, he had a soft spot for you, and he knew Dooku was aware of it. Obi-Wan’s behaviour now was confirming Dooku’s suspicions about Obi-Wan’s feelings for you, and he let out a low chuckle.

“There are already droids stationed around her ship -- I received a signal once she came into the atmosphere.” Dooku informed Obi-Wan, smirking slightly. “Perhaps you’ll change your mind once I bring her in.”

“If you lay a finger on her, I’ll make sure it’s the last thing you do.” Obi-Wan growled, and the smirk on Dooku’s face widened. 

“I’ll take that as a yes, then.” Dooku responded. Lifting the intercom to his mouth, he instructed, “Capture her and bring her to the cells -- alive.” 

“No!” Obi-Wan yelled in anguish, but Dooku had already turned around and left the room.

#star wars prequels imagine #star wars imagine #obi wan kenobi imagine #star wars #star wars drabble #star wars prequels #star wars prequels drabble #obi wan kenobi drabble #obi wan kenobi #imagine #imagines #reader insert #drabble #drabbles #hotemotionalmess

[memecaptainsteverogers]

Be a dear and set me up with Bucky

No can do, my friend, he is not set-uppable. I thought I’d try, after he kept setting me up for years and years, but it turns out he’s not interested and I’m still awkward, so a double-date is painful for all concerned. 

I’m confident however that you will find your very own super-assassin with an untoward collection of sharp knives and a fondness for stompy boots! There’s one out there for you.

#shitmeme talk #hotemotionalmess

[whirlybirbs]

Gooossshhh I’m gigging like a dork at the thought of giving Bucky random kisses throughout the day and the expressions thy flash on his face afterwards when ur not looking

contrary to popular belief, buck’s a pretty big softy -- he likes seeing you happy and he knows you like it when he kisses you. your scrunch ur nose and giggle and it’s enough to leave him smiling like a big ol’ idiot.

on the other hand, he’s just as much in love with small displays as affection -- he turns bright red when you kiss his cheek or steal a peck.

you two are also always touching one another -- hands on shoulders, hands on waists. even just in passing. it happens a lot in the kitchen; the space is so small and bucky is so big so he’s always saying ‘sorry’ and guiding your waist with his hands.

#bittercoffee #I LOVE FLUFF TBH #hotemotionalmess

[theprophecysaid]

Hello! Is it possible I could be tagged in Segregated? Thank you! 🧡

Yeah of course! I’ll add you to the list! c:

#admin #hotemotionalmess #segregated

[kingofthewilderwest]

there was so much character development this season! And we see that Snotlout's emotional maturity bloom, I love it so much! Do you think Astrid has anger issues? (Or at least, has very unsafe ways of expressing her anger)

Great character development indeed! Loved it too!

Yes, I do believe that one of Astrid’s personality flaws is her temper. While it makes decent sense to snap at a man obnoxiously flirting with her and ignoring her rejections, she also does physically throw Snotlout on multiple occasions. She points her axe at him at multiple occasions. I would say that’s an unsafe way of expressing anger!

More telling, though, is Astrid’s instant reaction when Hiccup shows promise in Dragon Training. Anger. She is angry both when she thinks Hiccup is not taking training seriously enough, and when he starts besting her at her own strengths. She angrily trains harder and harder and treats their interactions with hostility. The seriousness of fighting her parents’ war, the frustration of being bested, and the intensity of competitiveness... this can’t erase the fact we see Astrid seriously, chronically angry.

Of course she’s not always angry. She can be sweet and silly, too. But when the anger arises, it belies internal weakness. Astrid often responds to feeling insecure by emitting rage. Fright of Passage shows Astrid raging because of Fearless Finn Hofferson’s backstory and how it degraded her family’s reputation. She’s insecure about her family’s poor reputation. It’s not so far an interpretation to say that maybe she was so fierce and serious in the first movie’s Dragon Training because she wanted to prove this Hofferson could properly, bravely, respectably, talentedly fight Berk’s battles! Hiccup treating Dragon Training without proper seriousness would therefore be frustrating to her because of how much her family got grilled for their mistakes in the war. Hiccup besting her at Dragon Training would be frustrating to her because she needs to prove her worth.

So she shows anger for unhealthy emotional reasons! And anger will not cure these emotional struggles.

Astrid does grow. She is more willing to show herself as vulnerable by her late teens. We see her wear her heart on her sleeve in episodes like “Astrid’s Team” and “Sandbusted.” She’s handling her struggles more healthily and maturely - though it is to note she still has room to improve!

#hotemotionalmess #Astrid #httyd #How to Train Your Dragon #rtte #Race to the Edge #DreamWorks Dragons #ROB #Riders of Berk #DOB #Defenders of Berk #ask #ask me #analysis #my analysis

[nerddface]

THOR IS SO CUTE WHEN HE'S FLUSTERED AND SO IS LOKI AND IM JUST IN A FANGIRLING MOOD BC OF YOUR FICS Ah but seriously, your Thor and Loki stuff is really good 💖

I literally cannot thank you enough, bro, you’re the tightest 💚💚💚

Girlfriend I gotta tell u again about my Loki Worship Mode™ I mean it’s like I live with these boys I know them so well 😂

#ask #hotemotionalmess

[12monkees]

You are made of stardust and galaxies and I love you. Send this to your ten favorite people on this website. ♥♥♥

i have no idea how long this has been in my inbox but THIS IS SO CUTE definitely passing it on 

#asks #hotemotionalmess

[essiefreds]

Heck yeah, I’ll write this for you, @hotemotionalmess!

It’s been a minute since I wrote one of these, but I’ll figure it out. Let’s see how well this went.

There’s definitely going to need to be a part two.

Word Count: 3,484

Of course it couldn't have been a normal evening. Why would it have been? After the wonderful day you'd had, dealing with picky shoppers while trying to sell your family's famous apples, there simply had to be a party going on next door. Was a quiet evening too much to ask?

All things considered, you should have assumed something was off when you realized where the sounds were coming from. The jovial yelling and clattering of... food platters? At Bilbo Baggins's house?

"Y/N, dear, would you mind poking your nose over Bilbo's fence?" your mother inquired from where she was busy cutting up an apple to bake into the pie she was making. "It's nice that he's enjoying himself over there, but perhaps you could suggest he do it more quietly?"

And, despite the fact that you had already curled into a ball in a sitting chair before the fire, ready to do nothing for the remainder of the evening but read and drink tea, you dragged yourself out of your hole and down the path towards Bag End.

As you neared, the party sounds seemed to intensify, and you couldn't help but roll your eyes to yourself. It was a Tuesday; what company could Bilbo have over on a Tuesday that would be acting so rambunctious?

You didn't bother peering through the window first. Finding out who was making all the noise wasn't going to accomplish anything.

Instead, you marched right up to the front door, and knocked loud enough that they would hear it over the cheerful singing and shouting.

It took a few minutes, and several different bouts of knocking, for someone to finally open the door.

And you were very surprised to see that it wasn't a Hobbit at all, but, in fact, a... Dwarf? With brown hair? Definitely different from the description of blue hair that your grandfather had once given you.

"Can we help you?" the Dwarf asked, brown eyes alight with the same glittering happiness that seemed to be all around Bag End.

"Uhm, yes, actually," you said, getting past your shock of seeing a Dwarf open the door of a Hobbit home. "My family lives right down the road, and we were wondering if you could quiet down a bit."

Very rapidly, a look of apology came over the Dwarf's face. "We were being that loud, huh? Sorry. Everyone inside just hasn't seen one another in a bit, and so we're all glad to be together, that's all."

Curiosity over took your annoyance with the disruption of your evening, and you tried to peer around to Dwarf into Bag End. "So, Bilbo's hosting a party for all of you?"

"Something like that," the Dwarf replied.

"Who's that at the door, Kee?" Another Dwarf, blond this time, appeared in the doorway next to the first. This one had blue eyes, and a fascinating braid in his mustache.

"The neighbor," the first replied. "She says we're disturbing the peace."

"Ah." The blond Dwarf looked you over. "Sorry about that."

"Hey, I have an idea!" the first Dwarf exclaimed before you could say anything. "How about you join us? Just for a bit?"

"Oh, no, I shouldn't," you said quickly, taking a small step backwards. "I have a book and a cup of tea waiting for me at home."

"Boring," the first Dwarf decided. He held out his hand to you. "Come on in."

You opened your mouth to disagree, again, but you faltered, something inside of you firmly stating that this was an offer your shouldn't decline. You glanced towards your own home, and saw the warm glow of the light from inside, remembering the tea you'd prepared, and the book you had yet to open.

Both would wait up for you, wouldn't they?

Turning back towards the two Dwarves standing in the doorway of your neighbor's home, you smiled a bit, and placed your hand in the proffered one.

"All right," you agreed, "but just for a little while."

"Sure," the brown hair Dwarf responded. He easily pulled you over the threshold, and then the blond one closed the door behind you.

"I'm Kili, by the way," the one leading you said. He nodded towards the other, who was following behind you. "That's my brother, Fili."

"I'm Y/N."

"'Y/N'?" Kili raised an eyebrow. "Interesting name."

"So's Kili," you retorted easily, and the Dwarf grinned at you.

"I like you already," he said, and, for whatever reason, you felt yourself blush.

"Hey!" Kili shouted, entering Bilbo's dining room ahead of you. "We have another party member!"

You walked into the room, and blinked. The table, which had been pushed up against another table, was lined with Dwarves on both sides. Most of them looked like they'd seen a lot, while others looked just as young as Kili. It was odd, the contrast, especially when you noticed the similarities between them all.

"Y/N!"

Bilbo Baggins pushed around a cramped corner where a Dwarf was seated on a barrel, and he hurried over to you, his eyes wide with something akin to fear.

"What are you doing here?" your neighbor asked tiredly.

"You were being noisy," you answered, and, as though you'd just told the funniest joke in the world, the table of Dwarves burst into laughter.

You glanced around at all of them, confused, and one, a older Dwarf with something that looked like a brass horn hoisted up to his ear, raised his mug to you.

"You got that right, lassie!" he said cheerfully, and then he finished whatever drink was inside the mug before slamming it down on the table. "We're the noisiest lot alive!"

More laughter, paired with the pounding of mugs on the table, and you looked at Bilbo, who seemed ready to give up and collapse where he stood.

Suddenly, you made the decision that leaving Bilbo to fend for himself against this group of Dwarves would have been the most unneighborly thing you could do.

Pushing up your sleeves, you crossed your arms and looked around at all the Dwarves.

"It seems you've been giving Mister Baggins a hard time," you informed them, raising your voice to be heard over the mug pounding and chatter. All eyes returned to you, and you steadied yourself against them. "I think it's time you all settled down."

"Settle down?"

"What's she mean?"

"I think the lass need a drink or two of her own."

"I do not need a drink," you began, but nonetheless, one was pushed into your hands.

"I'd drink it all," Fili advised. "You're going to need to, in order to catch up with us."

"She won't do it," a Dwarf with braids in his hair attached to his beard stated.

You wrinkled your nose as you peered into the mug you we're holding. The liquid inside it was light, and smelled, oddly, like spiced apples.

You glanced up and looked around at all the Dwarves, who were watching you expectantly. They thought you were going to hand the drink back to Kili, and leave.

Well, you would just have to show them what a bad day in the market could do to a vendor, wouldn't you?

Without hesitating, you tilted the mug back and swallowed most of the cider down.

When you lowered the mug, coughing a bit, eyes watering, and looked back up at the Dwarves, you found varying expressions of surprise and awe on their faces.

"What?" you inquired, wiping at first your eyes and then your mouth with the back of your hand. "You think a Hobbit can't drink?"

You were elated when there were a few mumbled grunts of approval, and more obvious exclamations of appreciation for what you had done.

You didn't finish off the rest of the cider, however. Three quarters of a mug was already more than you usually had, even at Midsummer's Eve celebrations. You placed the mug down on the table, and Kili appeared at your elbow, taking it as you stumbled backwards.

"Whoa," he said, obviously amused. "Steady."

"I shouldn't have done that," you decided, letting him lead you over to the wall, which you leaned against almost at once. "Oh goodness."

"Well, it was impressive, if that helps," he said, looking at Fili, who'd wandered over as well, for help.

His brother nodded. "Very impressive. I'm sure your mother would be just proud."

Kili elbowed his brother in the gut while you glared. Fili smiled. "I'm only kidding. Everyone else did seem pleased. They didn't think you would do it."

"I know." You sighed to yourself. "That's why I did it."

"That's not a good way to go about life." You looked up, and pressed yourself back against the wall when you found a very tall, bearded man peering down at you. "If you do things just because people don't think you will, you could end up doing something terrible."

"Y/N, this is Gandalf," Fili said, gesturing to the man. "He's a wizard."

"N-nice to meet you," you stammered.

Gandalf smiled. "Decided to stay and see what was going on?" he queried, adjusting his grip on the staff he was holding.

"Uhm, sort of," you admitted, scooting away from the wall, and directly into Bilbo. Your neighbor stumbled, and the platter of dirty dishes he was carting clattered to the floor.

"Oh! I'm so sorry, Bilbo!"

His shoulder dropped in defeat as he gazed down at the fallen dishes. "It's fine," he said. "That's just... the best representation of my evening."

You sighed, but before you could say anything encouraging to him, one of the younger Dwarves walked up to him.

"I'm sorry," he began, seeing the mess on the floor. "Where do you want me to put mine?" He held up his plate.

"Oh, toss it here, Ori," Fili invited.

Ori tossed, and Fili caught it easily. He then passed it along to Kili, who casually threw it over to a Dwarf who'd taken up station at the sink in Bilbo's kitchen.

Almost at once, more plates began to follow, and you had to duck in order to avoid several of them. Bilbo frantically hurried about, trying to catch them before they could hit the floor, but it seemed as though he didn't need to worry it; the Dwarves didn't let any near it. Gandalf, meanwhile, chuckled and pulled out a pipe.

The Dwarves sitting at the table and waiting their turn to throw their dishes, decided to spend their time by starting up a rhythm on the table with their cutlery.

"C-can you not do that?" Bilbo asked desperately. "You'll blunt them!"

"Oh!" A Dwarf wearing a silly hat grinned. "You head that, lads? He says we'll blunt the knives!"

And, as though on an unspoken command, Kili began to sing from where he stood near the kitchen, tossing dishes into it.

"Blunt the knives Bend the forks -"

The others immediately joined in, as dishes were thrown across the room, and the rhythm continued. You settled down on a chair near the wall, listening with a small glimmer of amusement.

"Smash the bottles and burn the corks! Chip the bottles and crack the plates... That's what Bilbo Baggins hates! Cut the cloth and tread on the fat Leave the bones on the bedroom mat Pour the milk on the pantry floor Splash the wine on every door Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl Pound them up with a thumping pole When you’ve finished, if any are whole Send them down the hall to roll..."

There was a pause, and you were surprised when the Dwarves turned to you, expectant.

Sighing, you set your palms down on your lap and finished, "That's what Bilbo Baggins hates."

Cheers from everyone, and then laughter when a deflated Bilbo saw that his dishes had been cleaned to a shine and organized neatly beside his counter.

And then... a loud pounding on the front door.

Silence fell, and Gandalf lowered his pipe, his expression suddenly very serious.

"He's here."

Needless to say, you wanted to know who 'he' was, and you weren't surprised when it turned out to be the leader of this company of Dwarves. Thorin, his name was, entered Bag End with an air of regality, and you frowned when he immediately started picking on Bilbo. The other Dwarves joined right in with laughter, and you wondered just why they thought they had a right to do such a thing when Bilbo had opened his home to them.

There wasn't much time for questions, however, because Thorin was immediately led to the dining hall and given whatever food remained. As he ate, he examined his group of Dwarves, and he raised an eyebrow when he noticed you.

"Who's this?" he questioned, looking at Gandalf for an explanation.

It was Kili who spoke up, however. "This is Y/N. She's Bilbo's neighbor, and she came to yell at us for being too loud, but then she decided to join us, drank a mug of cider, and finished our song."

Thorin frowned. "And is Y/N staying much longer?" he asked, still not speaking directly to you, but you felt the need to speak for yourself, nonetheless.

"I think I might, since I still don't understand why a group of thirteen Dwarves and a wizard have shown up at my neighbor's home to disturb his evening."

A stunned silence settled over the room. Fili scratched at the back of his neck, and Bilbo looked like he wanted to disappear into the floor. Kili however, was grinning, and he looked at Thorin.

"You might want to let her listen in, Uncle," he said. "I doubt she'd leave, anyway."

Thorin didn't seem as though he wanted to agree, but he did.

So, you sat quietly behind Kili and Fili while the Dwarves, Gandalf, and Bilbo discussed to what sounded to you like the most incredibly journey that anyone would ever embark on. A quest to reclaim a mountain kingdom from a dragon? That was something only heard of in books!

You wanted in. You wanted in more than you'd wanted a quiet evening at home.

And that was saying something.

So, while the Dwarves were arguing over whether or not Bilbo would actually be able to sneak into said mountain kingdom past said dragon, you scooted forward to poke your head into the conversation, leaning between Fili and Kili.

"I want in."

That silenced everyone, immediately, and they all turned to look at you in surprise.

"No," Thorin said.

"Please? I won't cause any trouble. Plus, I can help around camp! I can cook, really well."

"So can Bombur," one of the Dwarves said, nodding to the biggest Dwarf sitting at the table. He nodded, silently, and touched his chest in agreement.

"Well, I can do a lot of other things, too!" A big lie, but they didn't need to know that. "I don't want a share of the treasure or anything. I just want to go."

"Let her come, Uncle," Kili said after a moment of silence. "What harm could she do?"

"Plenty," Thorin grumbled, folding up the map that had been laid out in front of him.

"I won't cause any!" you said indignantly. "I'm good at following directions."

Fili looked at his uncle. "I doubt she'll cause any problems."

Thorin glanced between his two nephews, and then at you, before he grunted. "Fine," he said, more to his nephews than you, "but she's your problem."

"Fair enough," Kili replied, and then he grinned at you. "We'll take care of you, Y/N."

"You won't need to!" you stated firmly. "I can take care of myself."

"Kili," you complained, trying, and failing, to pull the pony you'd been given down the path. The thing was stubborn, however, and refused to give you any sympathy, even when you tempted her forward with an apple you'd pulled from your pocket. The entire journey had been the same.

Kili came galloping up on the back of his own pony, and he grinned down at you.

"Why don't you try to ride it?" he suggested helpfully.

You glared up at him. "I can't... get in the saddle by myself."

Kili's amusement went sky high, and he slid down from his pony and walked over to you. Without hesitating, he picked you up around the middle and lifted you into your saddle.

"There," he said, dusting off his hands. "Now you're in the saddle. Come on."

He went back over to his pony and climbed up onto it, then trotted away down the path.

Huffing to yourself, you flicked the reins. Your pony seemed ready to respond, now, because she settled into a steady trot of her own, following after him.

Fili settled in beside you, appraising the look you were giving Kili for a moment.

"Problem?" he finally queried.

"No," you muttered. "It's fine."

"You just look a little flushed, is all."

"It's hot outside," you grumbled, trying to urge your pony to move faster so that you could get away from him.

“Then I’d avoid getting close to Kili,” Fili advised, easily urging his pony forward as well. “The temperature only rises when the two of you are near one another.”

Ever since the start of the journey, the two brothers had been on either side of you for the most part, literally and metaphorically. Whenever you wandered away from camp to gather firewood, one or the other went with you. If you decided to freshen up in a stream, one of them stood guard. All the while, you'd grown close to them both, joking about nothing in particular and sharing stories of your childhood, theirs in the Blue Mountains and yours in the confines of the Shire. Quite the difference, but they wanted to hear about yours, and you were amazed by theirs.

Other than the fact that you couldn’t climb onto your pony without assistance, the journey hadn’t been nearly as difficult as you had thought it would be. The trip from the Shire had led the company through several small towns, where you’d all found comfortable lodgings, so nights out in the open hadn’t been as frequent as you suspected.

Thorin, however, promised that only nights out in the open waited for you all once you’d reached the Misty Mountains, so you were doing your best to prepare for that.

“Don’t worry, Y/N,” Kili had said to you when Thorin had first brought it up. “I’ll keep you warm.”

“Hah, or you could do us both a favor and stay far away,” you’d responded amiably.

Unknown to you, Kili hadn’t been as amused by this as you thought he was, and he’d actually stayed away that night, and the one after, all the while acting as though everything was normal when you approached him yourself.

Still, things had shifted a bit between the two of you after that. Not perceptibly, on a visible level, but on a internal level, you knew that Kili didn’t act the same around you as he had at the very start of the journey. You didn’t know if he had noticed, but, for whatever reason, Fili had.

“What do you mean?” you asked the older brother, glancing sideways at him.

“Oh, nothing,” he responded airily, absentmindedly brushing away the crumbs that were clinging on to his shirt from that morning’s breakfast.

“Fili!”

“What? I don’t mean anything. It just seems to me that you and Kili could... you know. Start a fire.”

Eyes wide, you reached across the space between your horses and smacked the Dwarf on the back of the head.

“Ouch!” he exclaimed, laughing. He reached up and rubbed the spot you’d hit him. “Defensive, are we?”

“You’re an idiot,” you informed him, returning your hand to the reins.

“We’ll see if you still think so later on,” Fili sang, and then he sped off up the road, his pony’s tail bouncing jauntily along the way.

You rolled your eyes. Fili didn’t know what he was talking about. There was nothing of the sort between you and Kili. If anything, the two of you were just good friends.

You appraised the young Dwarf, who was riding further up the train of ponies beside Bofur, who you’d found out was the one with the funny hat. He was handsome.

Kili glanced over his shoulder, as though he could sense your gaze, and you offered him a smile and a wave, just to see what his reaction would be.

To your delight, he grinned and waved back, and then faced forward again.

It took you about three seconds to wonder why that had delighted you so much, but when a sensible conclusion didn’t come to your mind, you shook it off and focused on directing your pony.

Fili doesn’t know what he’s talking about, you thought again, decisively, and, pleased with this conclusion, you flicked the reins, and your pony sped up until you were able to reach Kili on the back of his. 

#the hobbit drabble #kili drabble #the hobbit #kili #fili #the company of thorin oakenshielf #bilbo baggins #gandalf #thorin oakenshield #drabble #request #@hotemotionalmess #history has its eyes on queue

[imagine-mcu]

K with Bucky Barnes, please?

K- Kissing you with Bucky Barnes

#ask #hotemotionalmess

[alloftheimaginesblog]

Kissing Jonathan Byers would include?

At first, his kisses are soft and gentle. They’re sweet little pecks that last a few seconds. Once a bit of confidence grows, his hands slowly lie on your cheeks, maybe on the nape of your neck. They grow deeper and more passionate. When you’re kissing Jonathan, it’s not rushed or forced, he takes his time and pulls away to look at you and clarify silently that it’s okay.

#jonathan byers #prompt #headcanon prompt #headcanon #hotemotionalmess #ask

[theprophecysaid]

A Marvel male ship please? I'm biracial, dark brown c3 curls, brown eyes, full lips, 5'0, toned hourglass figure, full bust. ENFP, sanguine. I'm the mom friend, loves dancing, singing, horseback riding, reading, writing, adventure, fandoms, laughing with friends & family. I have a lot of sibs so I'm naturally a leader, and people assume I’m older than I really am. I'm willful, determined, spirited, & passionate.

I’d ship you with Peter Parker.

Being raised the way he was, he heavily benefits, and just loves, to be around people who are family types. Meaning, people who he can have an open connection with, and people who can offer guidance. People who enjoy being around others, and can easily get along with those he is close to, because let’s face it, if May or Ned don’t like you, it may be hard for you to get close to him.He loves being around your family as well. He is amazing with smaller children, because he is just as energetic and fun loving. He would be completely be up for any activity you had in mind, always wanting to do something new, and push himself further. He can also benefit from your mom personality, and your worrying about him. Sometimes he pushes himself too hard, and just doesn’t know when to quit. Sometimes his drive to prove himself can cloud his judgement. Thats where you come in. He adores your passion and optimism in bleak situations. When things go wrong he can get too down on himself, but you help him out. Peter is also there for you. He is a chance to get away from a loud household (I have a big family too, it gets tough), and to let your guard down, and not have to be a leader and mature all the time. With him there are no expectations to be more than you are, however he 100% believes in you, and if you think you can go the distance, so does he.

#ships #marvel #peter parker #spiderman #request #hotemotionalmess

[nerddface-has-moved]

A Dance?

Characters: Éomer Éadig, female!reader, yes I count Arod, Hasufel, and Firefoot as characters

Warnings: None

Word Count: 5014

Notes: I’m gonna be honest; I wrote most of this faded, but just for shits and giggles I’m uploading the whole thing. Hopefully you can’t tell. :P

Also, horses are kind of my entire life and soul. I’ve been riding competitively for, like, ten years? Anyway the point is I am 900% that one weird horse girl, so apologies if Éomer turns into instructor-mode-Molly for a second.

Based off of this (or these): (x)

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A gentle breeze pulled mist across the wide plains of Rohan, blanketing the Earth with its breath. Sunlight bounced off the low-rolling grey, awakening slowly, but had yet to throw its arms into the windows of its subjects. As life with horses went, mornings began early, and there were already barn doors being opened and hooves were pounding against the dirt.

Y/N would always stand by the fenceline of the large back pasture to watch the horses set out the night before make their way back to the gate for morning feed and the beginning of their daily activities. There was something humbling about watching them race across the grass, rumbling a deep thunder in the ground that traveled up her legs and into her chest.

A couple of stragglers caught her scent and decided she was more interesting than whatever lay in store at the main gate, and came in her direction. She took a step back as three broad-shouldered horses trotted briskly up to the fence, manes flying. When they settled down and extended their noses over the fence to smell her, or under it to get at the long, green grass that grew along the fencepost, she came back up, and held a hand up.

The grey one lipped at her hand, and she jerked it back momentarily, smiling though she was slightly startled.

“Can’t eat my fingers,” she scolded. The black one shook its head and neck, its shoulders rippling. The brown one at the end noticed something down the road, and in a moment, boots were crunching dirt. She turned her head to see a tall blond man sauntering down the road. She recognized him immediately as Éomer, a prominent rider in the Riddermark, and adopted son of the King. He stopped beside her, greeting her warmly, and she smiled back, stroking the velvety nose of the black horse.

“Is he yours?” he asked, reaching out to the black, who flared his nostrils and lifted his head to blow in Éomer’s face. The grey shouldered him out of the way, baring its teeth at the other horse’s cheek. He pinned his ears to his head and his eyes flashed as he lifted his chin in defiance.

“No,” she replied honestly. “I don’t ride.” Watching the horses shove each other and rattle the fence reminded her exactly why.

Éomer looked to her, his brow knit. “Really?”

“Don’t look so surprised,” Y/N muttered, shifting her weight.

“You never learned?”

“Mmmm, no. Wagons are close enough for me. I don’t... trust horses.”

She was surprised to hear a gentle chuckle from Éomer. “That is where you are wrong,” he said. “There is no other creature in all of Arda that I trust more than Firefoot.” There was a short pause before he continued. “Do pardon me, but surely you cannot mean that a grown woman living in Rohan does not find the need or desire to learn to work with the city’s livelihood?”

“There are plenty of things to be done around here that don’t require getting on the back of a horse,” she argued, slightly offended. “And I am perfectly happy on my own two feet.”

The grey horse threw his head back again, his tail flicking, and shouldered the bay one, butting the black on his other end in the process.

“Arod,” Éomer scolded, and the grey horse took a step backwards, snorting.

“You know him?” Y/N asked, changing the subject, genuinely surprised at how easily Éomer commanded the horse.

“I know every horse in the Mark,” he replied, his voice carrying a little edge from the previous comment. “Arod is a feisty thing. He tends to get bossy, especially with a horse as lamb-ish as Hasufel.”

Silence fell between them for a short time as Arod lost interest in them and cantered away, towards the now open gate. One of the horsemen there whistled, and the black horse turned his head, following the sound to the gate. Hasufel hesitated, enjoying Éomer’s fingernails scratching at the base of his mane, but followed after his companions shortly.

Y/N turned to return home. “It was a pleasure meeting you, my lord.”

She was a little surprised when he fell into step beside her. “I wouldn’t call it meeting, truly, my lady, as I have not yet learned your name.”

“Ah-- Y/N,” Y/N answered.

“Well, Y/N, I would be absolutely glad to show you horses are not all that you think them to be.”

Y/N eyed him. “I’m not sure...”

She was sure it was part of a ploy, but he flashed a smile at her, and she was ashamed to admit it worked very well to soften her to his cause.

“Come, now, Lady. I would be failing as your future King if I allowed anyone to be fearful under my watch, let alone of that which we live by.”

And there was that smile again, somehow making her heart flutter just the slightest. Unfortunately for her, it was enough to make her cheeks flush and a smile split her lips.

“Shall I take that as a yes?”

Y/N choked on her breath. One of Éomer’s broad hands braced her back, and she bowed her head into the balled fist at her mouth. She probably would have gotten herself under control faster if Éomer’s touch hadn’t been so comfortably gentle, but after a moment she reined in her breath.

“Better?” he asked, and she nodded. She didn’t have the heart to tell him she really didn’t want to work with horses as they continued walking and kept her gaze mostly to the gravel.

A moment later, he spoke up. “If I recall correctly, I believe I’ve seen you around this residence.”

She looked up, and indeed, they were at her house. She turned her gaze to him, and he extended an arm, flashing that million-dollar smile once more.

“Like I said, I must know my people. I will see you this time Thursday, at the east stables.”

And with that, he was gone, calling out to another horseman to continue his day. Y/N scrubbed at her face, worried what she might have gotten herself into.

~

Two days later, it was dawn again. Dirt crunched under her boots as she walked in the quiet of the early morning to the stables. Éomer was apparently already waiting for her, leaning against the wood slats, gazing off into the wide plains of Rohan.

“Good morning, my lady,” Éomer greeted when he noticed her, and Y/N drew in a long breath. “Are you ready?”

She released her breath, and chewed at her bottom lip. “Ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose.”

He extended an arm to the aisle, and she followed him down to one of the last stalls, where a vaguely familiar bay horse was munching on a mouthful of hay.

Éomer reached to his nose, and the animal raised his head, his ear swiveling forward, and sniffed both of them.

“You’ve met Hasufel,” Éomer introduced. “As I have mentioned before, he’s calm, and a good lesson horse. You’ll start with him, and depending on how quickly you progress, we may move on.” He pointed to down the aisle a little further. “Down there you’ll find a bucket with some brushes in it, if you could bring that down here and we’ll get started dusting him off.”

She did find the bucket easily, and peered inside at the multitude of bushy tools, wondering how on earth she’d keep track of which one did what. She set the bucket on the floor outside Hasufel’s stall and watched Éomer swiftly pick up a broad one to swipe across the horse’s back.

She shifted on her feet nervously. “Are we... riding today?”

Éomer shook his head, noting her face and offering a reassuring smile. “There’s plenty of groundwork to be done before you set foot in a saddle. If you don’t know what things are and how they work, what’s the point of using them, yes?”

He had a point, she supposed, but regardless it relieved her immensely to know she wouldn’t have to brave getting on Hasufel’s back today. Éomer walked her through each brush and its use (which ended up being rather self-explanatory and easy to remember), piece of tack, how it went on and off the horse, and guided her through putting it on, and taking it off. He suggested taking a walk, and after chuckling at how her eyes went dinner-plate wide for a second, he clarified it would just be a walk on the ground, holding a lead.

A few hours later, after giving Hasufel a “much needed” rub-down, Éomer suggested turning the horse out to pasture by herself.

“I’ll be standing at the fence,” he assured. “You know how to take the halter off. It’s perfectly safe.”

Y/N wasn’t so sure about going inside the line that kept her safe from hard hooves and sharp teeth.

“Come, now.” Éomer wrung out the drying cloth he had in his hands. “No lady of Rohan is a coward, is she?”

That sure as hell brought Y/N all the motivation she needed, and she grasped Hasufel’s lead decisively and marched to the gate. She caught Éomer’s flashing grin as he pulled the gate open for her, and in response she turned up her nose.

At the sight of wide plains, Hasufel forgot entirely about the woman at his side and yanked the lead from her hands, breaking into a canter away from her. She tried to catch it for half a second but ultimately ended up jumping away from him in fear. Wide-eyed, she turned back to Éomer, who had doubled over laughing. Thoroughly embarrassed, she returned to the fence, and Éomer reined in his laughter and swung his legs over the top bar.

“Come along,” he beckoned. “We need to catch him to get it off.”

“I’m so sorry,” she began. “I didn’t-- he just--”

“Y/N.” He hopped to the ground. “Don’t worry. You can make it up to me by helping me catch him.”

She nodded quietly, falling into step behind him as he followed the runaway horse.

It took nearly another hour to get ahold of him. Each time they thought they had him, he’d pick up his hooves and prance away, just out of reach. Each near miss was frustrating, but it made Éomer laugh, even when it was his hands that missed the rope. Hasufel seemed to be enjoying it just as much, and for a couple minutes Y/N simply stood in the grass and watched the two chase each other like children. When Hasufel came back in her direction, followed closely by Éomer, her heart jumped in time with her feet out of their way, but a laugh bubbled in her chest.

Eventually Hasufel tired, or perhaps was only tired of the game, and stopped long enough for Éomer to get his hands securely on the lead, and get the halter from his face. Y/N booked it to the fence, but smiled readily back at Éomer when he returned, tack in hand.

“That was an experience,” he said, unlatching the gate to step out. The metal hook fell back into place with a squeaky click.

“Yeah,” Y/N breathed. “I hope it never happens again.”

Éomer slung the halter over his shoulder. “Indeed. I have further duties with the horses, but you are free to go if you don’t wish to accompany me.”

“I think I’ve had my fill of horses for today,” Y/N excused. “Thank you, Éomer.”

He bowed his head slightly. “Of course. I will see you on the morrow.”

~

The next few days went smoothly, and she didn’t once have to get on. She knew the day was coming, though, and when the morning did come that Éomer stopped her halfway through her tack-on-tack-off routine to tell her she didn’t need to untack as she’d be riding today, her heart skipped a beat.

“Are you sure?”

“This is the only logical progression. It’s not nearly as bad as you think it will be. I will be there the whole time.”

Y/N was sure Éomer could hear her heart pounding as they led Hasufel out to a dirt arena. Éomer picked up a box on the way in, and set it beside Hasufel’s hooves when he came to a stop in the middle of the arena. She waited nervously as he double-checked the girth, the stirrups, and the latches on the bridle, then turned back to her.

“All ready. This box should give you a boost.”

The gentle smile that held his lips did nothing for her nerves, but she stepped up to the horse anyway, somewhat assured by his hand on the reins.

“He can’t feel his mane,” Éomer assured. “If you’d live to take a handful near his withers to help you get up, you’re free to.”

Y/N assumed his withers was something at his back, where his mane began, as that was the closest in her reach. She took a generous handful, but paused, peering at her new mentor.

“Are you sure he won’t try to buck me off?”

Éomer smiled bemusedly at her. “I’m sure.”

“Okay,” she breathed, and set a foot in the stirrup. When nothing happened, she put some weight down. Nothing still, and she eased herself into the saddle, taking care not to brush his hindquarters with her foot and send him lurching forward and her flying. Surely she’d break her neck when she hit the ground.

“See?” Éomer picked up the box and took a step back. “Keep your hands just where they are, and see if you can figure out how to take a step forward.”

Y/N had seen people ride plenty, so she lifted her heels to deliver a sharp jab to Hasufel’s side. He flinched, flicked his tail, and began a bouncy trot.

Éomer’s brow knit as he stepped back up to her and stopped the horse, pulling her heel away from the horse’s side. “No kicks. You can never trust a horse taught by fear. There will always be something he fears more than you.” He smoothed the short fur behind her stirrup before stepping back. “But if he trusts you, he will turn to you when he is afraid. Press your heel, gently, try to sit your weight forward toward the pommel, and click with your tongue.”

Slightly scathed, she did so, and Hasufel took a calm step forward. Éomer watched them walk to the end of the arena, keeping a couple steps away from them, and instructed her as she walked. “Push your hands forward, be gentle on his mouth. Try getting him to turn with your leg instead of by the bit.” She did so, but Hasufel tossed his head and sidestepped, dangerously close to crushing her leg between he and the fence. She jerked her hands back, startled, and it tugged further on the reins. He lifted his front feet from the ground, and Y/N yelped, releasing the leather and gripping his mane. She pitched frighteningly, but there was a hand bracing her in a moment, and another reaching for Hasufel’s rein.

“Hush, down,” he hummed, and the horse shifted his back end, but Éomer’s hand kept Y/N from falling over Hasufel’s haunches. After a short moment, he calmed, and Y/N regained her balance, slipping the foot that had come free back into a stirrup. Éomer’s gaze was surprisingly soft when she met it.

“You’re alright?” he asked, and she nodded, still a little on edge, and more than a little embarrassed. “No need to feel ashamed, you’re only beginning. Hasufel can feel when you’re tense. If you relax, he’ll relax.”

Y/N had hoped Éomer would lead the horse for a time, or even let her off, but it seemed he believed in learning on the job, and stepped back. “Try again.”

Trying to keep everything he’d told her in her head, she let her shoulders relax, and tried again. Éomer led her around twice more, and let her get off.

“Baby steps,” he informed her. “Better perfect little things than be overwhelmed by everything at once and forget half of your lesson.” She was thankful she was out of the saddle for the day, anyway- there was only so much fear-facing a girl could do in one day.

~

Over the next few weeks, she learned basic direction, how to sit in the saddle in a manner comfortable for both her and her horse, and even switched mounts twice.

She learned that Éomer was a wonderful person; kind, gentle, hot-headed sometimes, but only in fierce protection of that which he loved. She learned he liked apples almost as much as the horses did, and that he and Firefoot seemed almost seamless whenever she got the chance to watch them in the arena.

And she learned she was beginning to admire him a little more, and look forward to his wide hands at her waist as he helped her into the saddle, and the smiles he shot her when she completed a new command successfully.

She paid more attention to his mannerisms, the way he flicked his honeysuckle hair from his eyes in the hot midday sun, the way his fingers curled when he pointed to something, and the rumble in his voice when he praised her or her mount. His eyes seemed to glitter in every light, especially the winking light of the stars, and the moon turned the scars on his forearms into veins of silver.

For the coming months, she grew closer to the Lord of the Mark, far enough to call it friendship, at least. He would visit her most Saturdays for a cup of tea or a light lunch and sometimes both, and she’d come to expect his presence, so when he didn’t show up one afternoon and hadn’t let her know he wouldn’t be coming previously, she set off to search for him. The King had been deteriorating quickly over the last couple of weeks, and she could tell it plagued Éomer. Perhaps something else had occurred and had dug Éomer deeper into a sour mood.

She found him where she expected to-- tacking up Firefoot in north barn, but something was off. He spared her a glance when she approached, but didn’t greet her, and looked away far sooner than he usually did.

“Where are you going?” she asked tentatively, taking note of his bristling and defensive behavior.

“I am banished,” he said simply, jerking Firefoot’s cinch.

What?! “By your father’s order? Why?” Had madness finally taken him fully?

“By Grima’s order. Théoden-- The King had nothing to do with it. He cannot speak for himself any longer.”

Anger flared in Y/N’s chest. “Surely he wouldn't cast you out! When did Grima’s word become worth more than Theéoden’s?”

He whirled on her, and gripped her shoulders, his eyes locking with hers. “That’s just it, Y/N! Wormtongue can bend Théoden into any shape he desires. It doesn't matter what he may truly think, if he is even thinking at all! No matter how it was done, I am banished on pain of death, solidified by the King’s hand. I cannot stay here any longer.”

“If you go, I--”

He knew exactly where she was going, and cut her off abruptly with a hand over her mouth. “Don’t even say it. I will not have you branding yourself a traitor for my sake. Stay here, watch after my sister. She needs you, now. Grima-- I-- keep him away from her.” His fingertips dug into her shoulder, and she knew he was truly angry at whatever Grima had said to him.

She opened her mouth to speak, but thought better of it and shut it, nodding instead. Come back to me. He hesitated for a moment, looking as though he might have also said more, but turned from her and swung himself into the saddle. His eyes didn’t catch hers as he trotted from the stable and called for the men who still followed him.

She stood in the doorway of the stables and watched him go.

~

If she thought her heart couldn’t sink any deeper, not a week later a wizard came into Rohan, accompanied by an elf, a dwarf, and a Ranger. They came in on Hasufel and Arod, sans Éomer and his company.

Éowyn rushed to her later that day to inform her her adoptive father had been healed- released from the prison around his mind by the white wizard, but now they spoke of war.

Y/N wasn’t sure whether she was more relieved or more worried when Théoden refused to participate. Éowyn said that from what she heard, all peoples of Middle Earth were at stake. There was no way Éomer would back down from a call to defend his people, regardless of whether he had the support of his King or more than a handful of men at his side. The thought that she might never see him again plagued her mind for days. She very nearly fainted when Théoden ordered evacuation to Helm’s Deep, and then forgot about him entirely when the Uruk-hai shook the foundations of the keep.

It was only when she saw him when the women and children emerged that she was reminded of him. His golden hair still shone in the bright light of morning, despite being drenched by torrential rain and muddied from his hands.

“Éomer!” she cried, rushing to throw her arms around him before she could think properly. If she didn’t surprise him, she certainly surprised herself with the tears that pricked at her eyes. Éomer paused the short conversation he was having to embrace her in return, his voice rocky with exhaustion.

“Y/N. I am beyond relief that you are safe.”

Something between a sigh of relief and a nervous laugh tumbled by Y/N’s lips. “Éowyn will be glad to know you are, too.”

The Ranger who Y/N recognized as the one who visited Edoras recently cleared his throat, cutting their reunion cleanly short. “I’m sorry, Éomer, but we must make haste.”

Éomer released her. “Of course. Keep safe, Y/N. I will see you in Edoras.”

As much as she didn’t want to let him out of her sight, she needed to attend the wounded, and he needed to regroup with Théoden, so she nodded and said farewell for the time being. She kept an eye out for flashes of blond on the journey back to Edoras, but truly spoke to him only briefly when they returned and she offered to care for Firefoot in his no doubt exhausted stead.

She didn’t see him for the rest of the afternoon of their homecoming, as she had her hands full with readying the Hall for a feast Théoden planned to throw in victory, but it worried her a little less knowing that he was within the walls somewhere just out of sight, safe for now.

She was tapping her foot to the up-tempo beat the small makeshift band had begun to play, watching of cheery people dancing, when he found her. He greeted her with a nod and crossed his arms and settled beside her, grumbling something about Elves and Dwarves. She took a sip from her goblet and gazed at him for a moment, offering the cup to him when he noticed her gaze. He declined politely, lifting his own mug of honeyed aie.

They stood and watched in companionable silence for a time. Y/N was simply happy he was alive to stand beside her, and after watching Éomer gently decline a request for a dance, studied his face.

“Not your favorite dance?” she asked. “I’m sure the band will play something different later.”

“I don’t dance,” Éomer admitted with a snort.

She turned her head to him, incredulous. “Seriously?”

“Don’t look so surprised,” he echoed her from so long ago.

She narrowed her eyes. “Never learned or just don’t want to? Because if you know how, you’re going to get out there tonight, if I have to drag you by your coattails.”

Éomer refused to answer. Y/N considered him, then took a fistful of his lapels, tugging with every intent to get him onto the dance floor. He resisted immediately, countering her by leaning into her momentum and spinning her back around, one hand firmly on her hip, and the other prying her fingers from his tunic.

“I don’t know how,” he growled in her ear through gritted teeth.

She sucked in a sharp breath at the incredible proximity she had to his chest, and she could see his blood pulsing rapidly at the base of his throat. For a moment, the filthy and completely uncalled for thought to sink her teeth into the skin there flashed across her mind, and she could feel her face getting hot.

She met Éomer’s eyes the moment they came back into view, and his face settled into a look of concern.

“You’re looking rather flushed,” he told her. “Perhaps some fresh air would do you well.”

Oh, no, she thought. You would do me just as well.

She covered her mouth, shocked at her own mind, and hoping that wouldn’t slip past her lips. This only served to make her look apparently more intoxicated, and Éomer ushered her to the doors.

The fresh air did clear her head, but only a moment after made it spin again when she realized this meant they were alone. Suddenly, what he’d said to her was incredibly funny. She chuckled, eyeing his broad shoulders in the silvery moonlight, and he shot her a look.

“What?”

“It’s just that it’s quite funny, really,” she giggled. “The golden-haired princeling, Third Marshal and Lord of the Mark, and he doesn’t know how to dance?”

“Battle is a dance,” he retorted, taking a left onto a wide walkway. “That is all of it I need. Maybe you need to sit down.”

“No, I don’t. You know, I’ve been dancing since I could walk. I could teach you.”

He shook his head. “I don’t want to learn.”

“Of course you do!” Y/N twirled backwards, breathing in the crisp air, and leapt onto a parapet.

“Careful!” he barked, but she skipped forward with a laugh, bounding across the short walkway to a bench, then to the ground. Her hair fell into her eyes as she held out her hand for him.

“It’s simple,” she assured. “Not nearly as many rules as there are with your horses.”

He studied her hand and her face for another long moment, then hesitantly reached out to take her hand. “If anyone catches us, I will never speak to you again.”

“Of course you won’t.” Y/N picked up his other hand, and held them at shoulder height. “Follow my feet with yours. We’ll start simple.”

As it turned out, he was much worse at following her feet than she anticipated, and it took another ten minutes to get a handful of simple steps down well enough that he wasn’t tripping over her or jerking like a rattling post before he stepped into a move. Her heart rate hadn’t slowed down in the slightest, and she wasn’t sure whether it was her hands getting clammy, or his.

He took a step closer, so the only air she was breathing was heavy with the smell of horses and honeyed wine.

“This is... another dance entirely,” she all but whispered, and his deep, rumbling hum rippled over her ears.

“Is it, now.”

It didn’t need an answer. Y/N didn’t think she could have given one, even if it did. The feeling of Éomer’s warm palms guiding her arms to rest on his shoulders dried her words in her throat, and the way they settled at her waist drew all semblance of cognitive thought from her mind.

“You don’t seem to need much teaching on this one.”

He hummed wordlessly, and his hands splayed across her back at her spine.

“I would... very much like to kiss you,” he sighed, his breath warming her chin.

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. “Really?”

He chuckled. “Don’t act so surprised.”

He closed the remaining space between them with those words, and she accepted him happily, curling her fingers in his hair. His lips tasted of honey and ale, and he pressed closer for a moment before seeming to come to grips with himself and releasing her for air. The moment remained between them, delicate as spider silk in the quiet air.

“I’ve waited... so long for that.”

Y/N didn’t want to open her eyes yet, and the breathlessness of his admission sent a shiver down her spine. Then, the more she thought about what had been going through her head over the years, almost desperate for his affection but too scared to look for it, and what only must have been going through his made laughter bubble in her chest. She embraced him tighter, and he joined her, lifting her at the waist and spinning her in a circle in the cool night air.

Her head remained in the clouds even as Éomer set her feet back on the ground. Their laughter subsided into giggles, then into wide smiles. His golden curls brushed her cheek and collar as he turned his head to press kisses to her cheek. Her heart was still pounding, but she could feel his racing just as fast, and it just felt so right.

“I love you too,” she told him. He laughed breathlessly and pressed his mouth to hers again, letting the dancing spider silk between them settle.

Both of them had gained more than skills over the last years-- they had gained a friend, and a lover, and a future. There would be more skills to pick up, more nuances about the other to learn, but learning a new thing isn’t always so bad.

#eomer x reader #request #hotemotionalmess #you are my favorite #eomer

[nerddface]

bless ya for all these Loki x Readers

tbh i haven’t really come out of Loki Worship Mode™ since 2011 but Ragnarok has kicked it back into high gear

#ask #hotemotionalmess

[avengeultrons]

⭐️

Fun Fact; I’ve won three first place spelling bee trophies! In my prime of course; fifth grade.

send me a star for a random fact!

#avengeasks #hotemotionalmess

[claws-of-vibranium]

Hey! Sorry I vanished for like two weeks... I was busy with my fundraiser for my trip next month. I'M HONESTLY SO EXCITED AND WAITING IS NOW DRIVING ME CRAZYYYY Hey Cassian, what's one of the strangest spy missions you've been on? If I was a spy alongside you, what cover story would you choose for us?

Now it’s our turn to apologize for being gone for so long! Glad you’re so excited for your trip!! Strangest mission is probably the one where we got turned around and ended up on the wrong planet, or the one where we had to improvise due to lack of info/the info we had was wrong. Our cover story would be newlyweds of course ;) or some variation of that, whatever best fits the situation

#hotemotionalmess #ask