#HOW HE WAS MADE TO SUFFER ENOUGH TO LEARN TO CALL THAT COURAGE

[feralcreaturescave]

Find Me in Between the Lines

“Would you teach me?” “What?” “To read as you do.”

“There are not a lot of wizards that suffer blindness,” he replied with a chilling intonation. “I suspect you can learn of other things that may be more useful than this.”

“Is it so bad I’d want an excuse to spend more time with you?”

Word count: 3.9k

Pairing: Ominis Gaunt x F!Reader

A/n: I only posted this story on AO3 and Tumblr, if you find this anywhere else- it wasn't me!! Link *here* for the rest of the series this story is from!!!

Ominis Gaunt couldn’t remember a time in his life where he was fond of people. Not even his family made it into his good graces, no matter how much effort he attempted to include them in his personal affairs. The only person he could think of that showed him the true meaning of familial love was his own aunt: Noctua Gaunt. He was told she was a great beauty with wits to match. She shared the pale blond hair of their father’s side and dark eyes that witnessed many of the Gaunt’s dark secrets. In his loneliest moments, Ominis tried to picture what Aunt Noctua would look like. Whenever she spoke to him, he always heard the smile in her voice and the lightness within her heart- a trait that was regrettably limited to only one of the Gaunts. 

The rest of his family had not been so kind. 

Noctua would often send him letters laden with treats local from wherever it was she was visiting; she would ask how he was, what he was up to, what were his current favorite books.. The letters stopped years ago and Ominis was left with silence. It took him weeks to work up the courage to write to his father about her and to his surprise he received a letter back, albeit with a short and curt response. 

‘I do not know.’

He was left to guess what really happened, until a few days ago where an unfortunate event transpired. 

Noctua Gaunt’s remains were laid to rest in a part of the school that hadn’t seen life in thousands of years. In the pursuit of truth did she perish within the confines of Salazar Slytherin’s scriptorium. A fate that Ominis himself had resigned to until Sebastian and his new friend found a way out. 

“Ready?”

“I’m ready.”

A pause, then- “Crucio!”

The details were secured within his mind and rose to perfect clarity whenever he required. He remembered covering his ears as she screamed. He wondered if that’s what his siblings heard? With a sound that horrible- why didn’t they stop on their own accord? It didn’t help that her body was cold when he caught her, breaking her fall. Her speech had been slurred so much that he had a difficult time translating what she was saying. His worst fears had come to surface that day. There were stories of the Cruciatus Curse that haunted him late into the night. Stories that involved people losing their minds had the curse been inflicted on them long enough; that was if they survived the initial bouts of pain. Some had their bodies simply give up due to the duress. 

They were the lucky ones. 

The ones who survive would have their minds reduced to nothing. Not even a single thought would light up their heads, nor inspiration nor recognition could be formed ever again. 

The House of Gaunt was naught but a shadow in his memory with mere ghosts that haunted its walls and called him ‘brother’ or ‘son’. Family was a foreign and strange concept; though of course, that all changed when Sebastian Sallow, and his sister Anne, came into his life. The days he spent with the two of them brought the most warmth to his days and he loved them for it; and despite Sebastian’s callous claims that Ominis didn’t care enough about Anne, he did. Though no cure was worth delving into whatever hole Sebastian found himself in.

A hole I helped him find. The quill in his hand had nearly snapped at the thought that intruded. He hated himself for allowing the secret of the Scriptorium to be leaked, but Sebastian’s friend had spoken such sweet promises and reassurances that he didn’t mind at the time. He was partially grateful that he finally learned the truth about Aunt Noctua and was given a chance to perform a proper send off near the lake where he stacked stones smoothed by the waters atop each other. He left a bouquet of her favorite flowers by the makeshift cairn and inhaled the familiar scent of Narcissus lilies that once resided within his aunt’s perfume bottles. There wasn’t anyone that comforted him the day he held a small ceremony to say farewell to the only blood relative that saw him more than a burden. He told not a soul, not even his closest friend, when he remained in the Undercroft and cried.

He straightened his back against the wooden chair and forced himself to refocus on the task at hand. Turning the page seemed achingly loud and he took more care to flip them apart as he fingered through. There was nothing quite like a location that forced people to be quiet no matter the circumstance. He found solace within one of the tables towards the back. From the cooler ambient, he knew it was one that lay concealed in shadows. This was one of the best spots where few bothered him, that is, until he heard someone walking his way. 

A subtle waft of something floral snuck into his nose. “What are you doing here?” 

“How did you know it was me?” The voice of the new student whispered softly to him. 

“I have to recognize people from something besides looks.” She was quiet and he hastily added: “Don’t look too far into it.”

“How can you recognize Sebastian?”

“His walk. No one else could convincingly brandish that amount of swagger without making a fool of themselves.”

She laughed. “You’re right on that.” Something shifted that sounded a lot like heavily bound books. “May I sit with you?”

“Why?” his question shot out like a spell, quick and with reflex.

“I, er, I was looking for a quiet place.”

“It’s a library,” he responded coolly. “You may find quiet places almost anywhere that aren't occupied.”

There was no response for a few seconds and he imagined she had already left, until she spoke softly again. “I understand. It was nice seeing you, Ominis.” Her footsteps had begun to recede until he spoke up.

“Wait.” The footsteps stopped. “I.. I’m sorry. Please, take a seat.” A chair next to him moved and groaned as weight was introduced upon the cushion. The first time he had met her, he was rather sweet and welcoming. But the instant he learned that Sebastian introduced her to the Undercroft without alerting him had left sour grapes on his tongue. He also heard rumors of Sebastian spending time with Hogwart’s latest mystery out of school grounds. It was enough to send an ugly tendril of insecurity with no small part of jealousy added into the mix. Has Sebastian tired of him already?

“..How are you? I didn’t think I’ve asked yet.”

Ominis scoffed. “I should be the one asking that. Not you.” Her screams surfaced into his mind from memory. “You were out cold. Sebastian and I were nearly hysterical.”

“Is that so?” she chuckled softly. “I don’t remember a thing beyond closing my eyes and drifting off into sleep.”

“Quite so. We haven’t argued like that in a long while.”

“Regardless. I’m grateful to both of you for not leaving me in the Scriptorium.” She paused. “Whose idea was it to sneak me into your dorm?”

“Mine.”

There was stunned silence. “That’s not who I expected,” she admitted shyly. “The Slytherin Common Room is gorgeous, makes me wish I’d been sorted in.. Imagine my surprise when I woke up in bed with Sebastian. We were so close I could count the freckles on his face with ease.” 

“I bet he would have enjoyed that.”

“You think so?”

“He fancies you.”

“I believe it’s more because he needs me for something than that.”

“You’re far too gracious. He’s been beside himself with worry. All he could talk about was how you looked when you sat limp in my arms..” Ominis trailed off, realization striking him. “Is that why you’ve been avoiding him?”

“He’s noticed, has he?”

“Yes. And he won’t stop pestering me about it. I would consider it a personal favor if you talked to him and requested that he stop.”

“I will. I just need some time to think about things.” 

“Very well. I’m sure you and Sebastian have your own secrets.” He knew full well that there was a hint of jealousy in his voice. A part of him hated how quickly Sebastian took to the new fifth-year, while another part of him was merely curious. 

“You and I could have some as well. I’ll confess something..” He heard her clothes rustling and assumed she was making herself more comfortable. “Yes. I’ve been avoiding Sebastian. I’ve been cursed before- by people far worse. But none of them scared me like he did.” She swallowed and continued, breathless. “I know you have to mean it when you cast you-know-what. But it’s a different sort of pain when it comes from someone you care about. I hope that makes sense.”

Ominis knew exactly how that felt. 

“Never mind all of that,” she urged. “I’m more curious about that magic you were using earlier on one of your books.”

He felt hot behind the ears. How long was she standing there to watch him transcribe the letters inside his book into Braille? It was not as if she was working up the courage, surely? “It’s a spell my aunt helped me develop,” he started tentatively. “It changes letters into Braille and vice versa. Since not all of wizard kind suffers from my ailment, it’s rare that I find any book that suits my particular needs.” 

“Your aunt sounds like a spectacular person.”

For the first time in a while, a warm smile lit up his face. “Yes. She was.”

“Would you teach me?”

“What?”

“To read as you do.”

At that moment he didn’t know how to react. Maybe he should be angry? Suspicious, perhaps? He settled for a probing question. “Why?”

“Because, it seems handy.”

“There are not a lot of wizards that suffer blindness,” he replied with a chilling intonation. “I suspect you can learn of other things that may be more useful than this.”

“Is it so bad I’d want an excuse to spend more time with you?”

And just like that, the ice had drained from him. Clearing the fields as the sun did for the frost-bitten valleys come spring. It was replaced with embarrassment and the irresistible urge to make up for the way he’d been treating her. Hesitantly, he slid over a book and began pointing out the alphabet in order. “This single dot means A.. These mean B.. When you put them together..” He appreciated that she was silent as he taught her each letter one-by-one with only a short hum to let him know that she memorized the latest letter down the row.

“This may take some time to get used to,” she whispered.

“It’s not so difficult,” he murmured back. “Just like with any concept you must learn. The symbols come first, then understanding.” Sliding the book over, he felt her arm move up, brushing against his as she passed her fingers to the page. Her movements were quick, unsure, and Ominis sighed. “Start from the left towards the right.”

His patience rescinded and without thinking, he searched until he found her hand. Only then did he realize how cold his skin was compared to hers. Ominis refocused on his task. Taking her through the motions, he showed her how he would usually read. Starting from the top left, skimming all the way to the right before shifting to the beginning of the next sentence. 

There was surprise in her voice. “I don’t believe I can learn that fast.”

“Sebastian tells me otherwise. Now try again.” She mimicked his movements, going down the list with his finger close to hers. 

She spoke as she read along. “The… Go..Goblin R.. Rebellion of… 1612..” 

“You’re doing well.” 

“Only because I’ve read this passage before and memorized it.” 

“Then let’s do something you haven’t memorized.” He took another book entirely and flipped to a random page. His wand tapped the page. “ Intra Intellegentium! Try this- no peeking.” Her fingers found the page and he listened as she struggled to sound out the words. 

“‘H’..h, right? Let’s see. ‘H..o..” She paused, her finger rubbing over a specific set of bump again. “Ominis-”

“Horklumps,” he confirmed after running his hand over it. “‘Horklumps can be found in varying numbers depending on humidity, light, and if someone had perished on the spot they sprouted on.’”

She laughed to herself. “I may need some practice.” 

“Indeed you do.” He let her memorize the alphabet on her own just as curiosity burned through him. “In the Scriptorium, Sebastian mentioned that ‘between the two of us, he was starting to feel left out’. What did he mean?” 

She was quiet for a bit, then- “I won’t lie to you again, Ominis. But that is something I must tell you about another day. I’m sorry. I can’t risk having you involved, too.”

'Too'? Is it another one of Sebastian’s games? “What are you talking about?”

“Ominis,” she insisted. “It isn’t wise that I involve more of my friends than I need to. Trust me. When it’s all over, I’ll tell you. I promise.” He heard her begin to pack up her things. “It was nice spending time with you.”

There was no time to respond as her hurried footsteps told him she was in a rush to head to whatever grand adventure she had waiting. He sat for a moment before packing up his things and departing himself until he stopped and blinked. Ominis felt as if he was hovering in a dream as his thoughts came as fast as someone who tried to run through muck. Did she just call him her ‘friend’? 

***

“What does she look like?”

“Sorry?”

“Your friend. Describe her to me.” 

He heard Sebastian shift his weight as he sat up in bed. “Why do you want to know?” Suspicion had made his voice lower in tone. “You never seemed to care much before.”

“I’m curious.”

“She looks like a girl.”

“Come off it, Sebastian.”

“She has a face.”

“Very well. If you insist on continuing this charade then I’ll ask her myself.”

Ominis pulled the sheets over him and turned his back to Sebastian’s voice.

“Wait-” he heard him sit up more. “Is she talking to you?” Ominis didn’t say anything. “Ominis. Has she said anything to you recently? Why isn’t she talking to me?” When he didn’t reply, he heard Sebastian let out a disgruntled sigh before he too pulled his cover over him. 

The next day, she found him in the library once more. He memorized her hurried footsteps and found it amusing how they never seemed to slow down no matter where she was headed. Their spot was almost exclusive again as they both made themselves comfortable. Only the sounds of light tapping on an ink pot and quills scratching against paper accompanied the peace. Ominis reached forward to where his ink pot was and felt his fingers brush against something warm.

“Sorry,” came a low murmur. 

“It’s alright.” Ominis set his quill down. “I must ask: why do you insist on spending time with me?”

“You’re the only one who doesn’t think to ask me anything besides peace,” she answered and sounded so earnest that he felt as if she was telling the honest truth. 

“Are you leading me to believe that everyone you’ve met has thus asked you for a favor?”

“Yes. I don’t mind lending a helping hand, but it gets exhausting. Sometimes I would like to simply sit down and read and not be bothered-" her voice sounded muffled and he assumed she covered her face with her hands as he only caught tidbits that sounded like 'goblins', 'poachers', 'magic', and 'keepers'. 

“You and I are alike in that regard then. I enjoy my silence.” Ominis thumbed through the pages of his copy of the ‘History of Magic: An Unabridged Guide’. “Actually, I may have to break that accord.”

“What is it?” There was a cautious edge to her voice.

This made him chuckle. “Don’t worry. I won’t ask you to delve into old ruins in search of a family heirloom or fight another troll. I simply wish to know what you look like.”

“I- hm.” She hummed. “I don’t know where to start. Shall I start describing the color of my hair?”

“Here-” he motioned for her to come closer. “This is much more simple and straightforward.” At first he hesitated, but when he felt her warmth come closer, he had a blossoming sense of bravery. 

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Hold your face out,” he said with such simplicity and calmness that even the tone of his voice surprised him. Reaching forward, he felt around the air until he came into contact with skin. The flesh under his fingers went rigid under his touch and he quickly urged her. “Calm yourself. I simply wish to learn what you look like. I can’t say I fancy picturing myself talking to a mannequin for the entirety of our relationship.”

At his words, she relaxed and let his hands see her face. 

His index trailed upwards to follow the hairline and felt her hair and how soft it felt, next, he accidentally brushed against her ears and didn’t reprimand her when she told him that it tickled. Her eyelashes tickled him back in revenge when he passed over her eye to the bridge of her nose to her other eye. His palm lay flat on her cheek with the rest of his fingers stopping there to let the thumb go on without them. Next came the tip of her nose before going down to press against her lips. His heart seemed to catch in his throat when his thumb grazed her bottom lip. For a second he believed that she pushed her lips against his finger and left a kiss there, but both of them said nothing to each other in that moment nor the one after. Ominis pulled back, a silent ‘thank you’ was uttered under his breath. 

“Do you know what you look like?”

“I haven’t had the pleasure,” he stated curtly.

“May I do you the honor of describing you, then?”

“You may try.”

The sound of scraping wood grated his ears as her chair was being pushed closer to his. A presence was more noticeable at his side where she leaned in to get a better look. She hummed, tapping her fingers against the wood and seemed to take what felt like ages to decide where to attack first.

“You are very handsome,” she concluded. 

Ominis felt he would sputter his words and kept his mouth clamped shut instead. “Your skin is pale. There are moles here-” her finger traced over his face and tapped where the marks were, “-here and here.” She traced down the bridge of his nose. “A pointed tip, and sharp lips that seem to always be fixed into a frown. You truly do have an air of austerity about you.”

“I do not-”

“Shh.”

The finger was placed against his lips and remained there until she was sure he wouldn’t open them again. She traced along his jaw now and in that moment he felt what she must have when he was examining her face. For lack of better description, he felt naked beneath her scrutinizing gaze. 

“Rather sharp jaw,” he heard the frown in her voice. “It seems you were blessed with looks at birth. Are you aware of what the other Gaunts look like?”

“I’m told my family possesses some sort of allure. Mother always praised my older siblings on how handsome they were.”

“It’s an apt description. You are.” The bell tower announced the time somewhere in the far distance, a sound that was followed by a chair scraping against wood. Warmth left his face like the sun retreating behind a large mountainside. “I’ve got to go. I’ve an engagement I must hurry to.”

“I wasn’t aware you and Sebastian had something planned today.”

“Because we don’t. It’s.." she hesitated. "Complicated.” Her finger seemed to tap along the wood of the desk in a nervously paced rhythm. 

“Will you keep another secret for me?”

“I suppose I can. What is it?”

“I’m meeting a goblin. He has information I need and working with him might prove beneficial. Just don’t tell Sebastian this yet.”

“I shan’t, but-” He raised his brows. “You’re aware he’s not overly fond of goblins after what happened to Anne, correct?”

“Yes, I know. I will tell him in time, just not now. I fear his reaction may be a bit too much to handle at the moment.” She sighed heavily. “Still, it feels good to get that off my chest. Thank you for listening. You’re a good friend, Ominis. We should spend more time together.” With that, he heard her take off towards the front of the library. 

***

I hope my owl finds you well. I’ve transformed the letters into Braille and hope with sincerity that you cannot make sense of it. Should you ever find yourself in dire need of a reading partner, find comfort with the knowledge that you may ask me. 

It’s also my displeasure to report that the time I spent with you in the library was not as bad as I previously imagined and that I do not mind repeating the experience. 

Sincerely, 

Ominis Gaunt

#ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt fanfiction #ominis gaunt x you #ominis gaunt x y/n #Ominis gaunt fic #ominis gaunt angst #Hogwarts Legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfiction

[jake-g-lockley]

Can I get prompt #19 with Jake lockley, I’m obsessed with the way you write him.

Afternoon Sun (Jake Lockley x reader)

Masterlist | Playlist | Want to be tagged?

Prompt: ARGUING!!!!! then a heated “kiss me.” and suddenly their hands are all over each other Warning: Alcohol abuse, mentions of past trauma, Jake is a mess in this one, angst. A/N: Thanks for the ask!!! lul im sorry for this. I made the prompt slightly softer cuz everyone’s hurtin’ but I hope you like this xxx Word count: 1.7k

☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You hear the door slam and you sigh knowing what you had to deal with tonight. You kept your eyes trained on your book as a figure wobbled in the bedroom. The smell of alcohol wafted toward you and you flinched, remembering the way your father used to drink.

“He won’t see me if I don’t move.” you think, staying as still as possible despite the way your hands betrayed you, shaking as they gripped the book in front of you tighter.

Jake Lockley has never hurt you. He might hate you, but he would never, ever hurt you. Nevertheless, your past gave you a fight or flight response that you couldn’t kick no matter how persistently you went to therapy. Your lip trembled as you shook, tears cascading down your face uncontrollably as memories flooded back to you.

You loved Steven and Marc, they treated you like you were their queen, feeding you love and affection that you never knew you deserved. They knew about your past and they tried their best to help you but were slowly failing by the way their alter was acting up. Steven and Marc found out about Jake long after you started dating them. That was when your nightmare started.

Jake would throw tantrums and run away, only to return hours later drunk out of his mind. He never said a word to you, never asked for help, instead turning away from you and flopping onto the sofa, only for one of the other two to wake up and suffer the consequences. You were on the verge of leaving them and they both could tell it was taking a strain on your relationship.

Your eyes dared to leave your book and meet Jake’s, who was already staring at you, his eyes drooping. He sent you a smirk and hiccuped, falling onto the sofa as usual. Suddenly, you felt sad, oddly enough not for yourself but for Jake. Your mind raced, playing back what Marc had said about his own past, one almost similar to yours, except you didn’t have an altar and you were afraid of alcohol. You had learned about alcohol use disorder and it made you stay clear of alcohol, afraid that you would become like your father and waste your life away. A small glimmer of hope lit up inside your head as you brought yourself to shut your book and climb off the bed.

You cautiously approached the sofa and watched as Jake’s hand twitched from how it was sticking up from where he was lying down. You peaked over a cushion and watched Jake’s face for any sign of aggression. All you saw was the same tired face Steven had whenever he had a long day and your heart broke a little more at the state that Jake was putting them through. You gathered your courage and went around to the front, sitting opposite Jake.

“Pst, Jake, wake up.” you said, softly, and when you had no response, you repeated it a little louder, causing him to jump.

You jumped with him but you resisted the urge to hide as your eyes met his bloodshot ones.

“What do you want?” he croaked, scowling at you.

“I need you to sober up.” you said, trying the gentle approach.

Jake just turned over like a stubborn child and you scowled at him, angry at the way he was treating you. You got up and pulled his arm, causing him to drop to the floor with a groan.

“You little-”

“Go on, Jake, call me all the names you want, hit me, I dare you. I’m fucking used to it. I don’t care, I need my boyfriends back and that means that I need you back.” you said firmly, taking the drunk Jake by surprise.

He suddenly had an expression on his face that you did not recognise. He looked up at you, his eyes wide with fear as his hands shook in front of him.

“I-i don’t know how…” he whispered, his big wet eyes searching yours.

“I’ll get you through it, Jake, I promise.” you said, holding your hand out for him to take.

When he reluctantly did, you pulled him up, steadying him as he swayed slightly. You lead him to the toilet and sit him down on the seat, filling him a glass of water to quickly gulp down. Once he did, he held the glass out to you, unsure of what to do next. You had already prepped his toothbrush, wetting it before squeezing a pea sized amount of toothpaste and handing it to him. He slowly brushed his teeth, occasionally leaning over the sink to spit. Tears were flowing steadily from his eyes and you promised yourself that you would wipe them away once you had him settled down.

You handed him a cup of mouthwash and told him to gargle a few times. He did as he was told and you found yourself relaxing at the feeling that he was listening to you. Once he was done, you realised that he was sobering up fast, from the way his hands stopped shaking and his tears slowed. You left him standing there and you went into the closet, picking out Steven’s softest jumper and Marc’s comfiest sweats along with a towel before handing it to Jake.

“Shower. Properly.” he nodded at your words and you shut the door behind you as you exited, giving him some privacy.

You heard soft sobs coming from the shower and you felt horrible for Jake. Maybe you should have faced your fears and done this earlier, maybe it would not have put such a strain on him. You didn’t realise your own tears were flowing until you heard the shower shut and you hastily rubbed your eyes and wiped your face before Jake could see you. You stood up as he emerged from the bathroom clad in the clothes you handed him, his hair still wet. You stood up and pulled his towel, draping it over his head before dying his hair. His hand comes up to yours and stops you.

“I don’t need this.” Jake simply said, his voice the clearest you have ever heard.

“You need this.” you insisted and continued to towel his hair.

“You’re not mine, you don’t owe me this after all I have done!” he yells, wrenching the towel from his head and throwing it to the floor.

“I owe myself this, Jake!” you find yourself yelling back at him, gripping the collar of Steven’s jumper. “After all I have gone through, I think I deserve much better, but I’m still here.”

“Then go! Leave!” he pleads, desperately.

You couldn’t believe your luck. This was the second person you’ve met on this planet that had such a selfish attitude and you could not help but put him in his place.

“Don’t you dare make decisions for me, Lockley.” you warned, glaring up at him. “I’m here to help you and this is all you have to say?”

“I’m scared of hurting you.” Jake whispered and a single tear left his eyes and dropped onto your hand that was grabbing him at the collar.

It made you drop your hand, as if his tears were made of acid. But you found yourself bringing your hand up to his face and swiping your thumb under his eyes. He leaned into your touch and closed his eyes, forcing all of the tears that had collected out of his waterline to drop down all at once.

“I am not scared because I know you have enough in you to be rational, Jake.” you whisper.

He shook his head and hoped that action could cause your comfort to disappear. Jake was not used to this level of affection and he was feeling overwhelmed.

“Jake, please, I want to learn how to love you, please just teach me and let me learn how to love you.” you were crying now, trying to keep your voice levelled.

“I-i don’t… you can’t possibly…” Jake tried to say through his tears.

“I can and I will, I promise that I will but I need you to see that too, please.” you said.

“Too pure… I won’t ruin you too…” he tried to turn away from you.

You pulled him back with all of your strength and stared into his eyes.

“Just kiss me, Jake, and I’ll show you.” you pulled your last card and threw it at him with the force of ten suns, making him stop in his tracks.

It was soft at first, the second Jake’s lips hit yours. You had felt these lips before but they were different. They felt like they held more sadness in them, the way they worked against yours. He turned his head and pushed on deeper, kissing you properly now, his nose digging painfully against your cheek. You could taste his tears on his lips and him yours.

You softly ran your hands through his wet curls, the same way you would with Marc and Steven and it elicited a loud sigh against your mouth from Jake, one that held so much exhaustion that your eyes filled with tears again. He wrapped his arms around you and held you close, a final act of desperation as he seeks out all of your consolation.

You pulled away slowly and leaned your forehead against Jake’s as sobs wracked his body once again. You held onto his hands and laced your fingers with his, gripping them hard, a promise that you would never ever let him go. Once he got a little calmer, you led him to the bed and you lay down before he gently placed his head on your chest. You sang him soft songs as sleep caught him up quickly and once he was fully asleep, you placed a long lingering kiss on his forehead and succumbed to sleep yourself.

Jake woke up in the body, with his head still on your chest. He heard Steven shushing Marc at the back of his head and he smiled up at your sleeping face. The afternoon sun bathed the both of you in a beautiful glow and Jake traced your cheek with the back of his fingers, willing to never see a tear cascade down them as long as he saw the light of day.

Reblogs are appreciated ~~~~

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[aphrostarot]

Leo Woman:

Title: “The Knockout”

For simplicity's sake, I will use the pronouns “he/him” for the male versions of the signs and “she/her” for the female versions of the signs. This is not to say that the people who identify with the male or female versions of each sign identify with those pronouns. This post is focusing on the different sexes (male vs female) not gender. Gender is fluid and I am in no way labeling people with these posts. Also, these posts are focusing solely on the Sun signs of each zodiac, other birth chart placements may cause someone to not fit into everything I have described.

Masterlist

Mind (how they think):

The Sun rules the sign of Leo, which is represented by the authoritative Father Principle. Male Leos express this characteristic by having huge amounts of energy, an innate sense of ease, and a sense of entitlement. Female Leos express this as a revolt against the patriarchy, a call to leave the universally accepted patriarchal society that is dominated by men.

Typically, she is raised as a latchkey kid, with her parents mostly absent during the day.

She becomes a strong supporter of self-reliance because of this, honing her survivalist skills in the process of creating a stable home environment for herself.

There is oftentimes a dramatic reason for the absence of one or both of her parents. It is most times the mother who is absent in her life, due to divorce, death, or more often just emotionally absent in parenting the Leo female.

The Leo woman's father is most often strict and strong-willed, though has a more sporadic presence at home. In the extreme, he is a tough disciplinarian, dogmatic politically, religiously, or both, against whose dictatorial nature the little Lion girl privately begins to rebel.

Despite pretending to comply with her parents' rules, she disobeys them nonchalantly, secretly following her own path. Her path is rarely what you would expect.

Although she suffered from the strict temperament of her father, she often credits him with giving her the courage to stand up for what she believes in.

She focuses most of her time on her passions, usually those that involve stepping into some sort of spotlight.

It is easy for her to gain the respect of teachers and other grown-ups, due to her self-reliant nature.

It isn’t until she realizes that survival depends on cooperation with others, particularly with other females that she cultivates a pack of women who share the same ideals as her.

As the only fixed-fire female in the zodiac, she excels at pursuits that require sustained action and creativity.

If she sees a creative plan or concept that isn’t being done justice she will step in and develop it into something that fits her image of what it should look like.

It is her birthright as one born under the sign of wholeness and completion, to envision how a half-baked concept could be sufficiently fleshed out and then accomplished.

She isn’t always conscious of her tendency to usurp other people's territory. Regardless, she may easily gain a reputation for being commandeering.

The biggest lesson she will have to face psychologically throughout her whole life is learning when enough is enough. Megalomania is often her undoing.

Body + Soul (what they look like inside and out):

She is infused with so much physical and emotional energy that she often seems larger than life.

She is haughty, cunning like a cat, somewhat savage in her movements, athletic, often exhibiting a defined musculature.

Her brand of beauty is often distinctly fiery, made all the more vivid by her style choices, as she often kits herself out in boldly revealing clothes, brightening her hair to a golden red or flaxen blonde.

Unlike the male Leo who guards his autonomy at all costs, the female Leo eagerly invites a circle of admirers who’ll unfailingly honor her inherent self-styled VIP status.

She is not generally loving, she saves her fervent devotion for just one or two lucky, and hopefully hardy, individuals.

More than most fully matured females, Leo remains devoted to one long-standing best friend from childhood, someone whose life should revolve around her, though rarely vice versa.

She doesn’t so much enter a room as storm it. Her vivacious body language is as eye-catching as her colorfully coordinated appearance.

Her voice stands out, a gravely honeyed growl that regularly crescendos into explosions of full-bodied laughter.

She is naturally fit, blessed with a low percentage of fat and a muscled physique.

There are moments in her life where she could put on some weight. However, that is usually a manifestation of a “blocked” emotional life; and often she’ll lose that weight just as quickly as she put it on when she deals with that blockage.

If she does, however, happen to be bigger than the average Leo woman that does not mean she will hide herself in baggy clothes. She will still be very confident and flaunt herself the way any other Leo woman will.

The Leo woman is generally beautiful, however, there is often a hardness to Leo's face that saves her from being considered ‘pretty’ by others.

No matter her race, her skin is often pale, with freckles, or uneven in tone.

Her skin is usually on the dryer side.

She usually has a heart-shaped head with an infamous mane that frames her face.

Her hair is surprisingly straight, sparse, and dry, she goes to great lengths to make it look more voluminous, often overhandling it.

Her jaw, like the rest of her, is strong and well-defined, her neck sinewy, her shoulders athletically square, as is her upper torso. She has very little curve, even at the waist.

Her boobs are perfectly formed and almost always symmetrical, and she knows this.

Nothing about her body language suggests that she is insecure. She moves deliberately, with a natural grace that is slinky like a cat’s rather than delicate as a swan’s.

Her legs tend to be lean and mighty with the calf and thigh muscles visibly ripped.

Her hands and feet tend to be rough and dry. No amount of cream or other cures can counteract that.

She can’t help but exude naturally raw sexuality, no matter the fashionable clothes she wears, the careful grooming she does, or the constant cosmetic makeovers she gives herself.

Her body temperature tends to hover just above normal. When she is looking for a lover she prefers someone who also runs just as hot as she does.

The Leo woman does not do phony. Mainly because they simply can't pretend to be something they are not. They are terrible liars, tending to overdo it, and giving themselves away along the way.

She finds success by being a bit of a copycat, running with others’ only half-baked ideas. She completes what others stumble upon or pioneer, doing up all she takes on.

She can be loud and pushy. In time she should adopt a sense of calm in the candid expression of her opinions.

A poorly aspected Leo personality will be characterized by brutal curtness and bullying directed primarily at those she maniacally curses for being “better” than herself, unwitting objects of her signature insane jealousy.

Leo will have you know she never caters to anyone by herself. However, she expects others to do any and all the grunt work, while she remains a calm, cool command central.

Only people with a visible passion akin to her own will catch her attention. Those she deems lacking this particular trait, deserve to play the part of handmaiden or fool for her emotional edification.

Sex + Sexuality (what they are like in bed and what they look for in a mate):

Leo Woman Interested in Men:

Leo woman interested in men is drawn to a man with ardent natures, who appear to wear their hearts on their sleeves.

Leo women are notorious for falling head over heels in love with a dark and dashing man. Blonde men usually are not someone whom a Leo woman thinks twice about.

She will typically lighten her own look up, however, to appeal to the men she likes. She goes for a look that most resembles the sun, golden hair, tanned skin, warm warm-toned colors in her wardrobe.

Men ruled by their hearts are those she seeks to capture.

She tends to be blatantly obvious in her feelings. She doesn’t want the man she likes to have to guess whether she likes him or not.

This is to say, she is the one who does the pursuing. She doesn’t typically like a man who pursues her.

She is a master of flirtation, once she’s convinced of a man’s interest in her, she’ll play cat and mouse, toying and teasing him unabashedly.

She tends to think that her naturally tough, ambitious self may frighten men, so, she will instinctively act comically feeble-witted, like the school brainiac who swears she’ll fail tests, only to ever scare A-pluses.

If she is ever pursuing a man, it is because there is intense passion present. If there isn’t she will not waste her time.

She is not quick to fall in love at first sight.

She is an outrageous flirt with an insatiable appetite for sex. But, sex to the Leo woman is a vividly demonstrative means of making an emotional attachment.

She guards her emotions fervently. Though, through sex, exercise, and ambition she shows them.

She is a true romantic. She believes that men with visible passion will love her more fully than she perceives other, more stoic males to do.

It is the promise of sex, not sex itself, that she uses to get men.

She likes to give her partner the impression that they are running the show, and to do this she allows him to act more selfishly in bed. At least, at first.

She will typically take a more passive role, pretending to play the role of a woman who will make no demands in the relationship, with the hopes of not scaring him off.

In truth, however, she is one of the most commanding women in the zodiac.

She wants nothing more in life than to love, and this is something she is wildly capable of doing.

She expects her partner to love her just as much as she loves them.

There is nobody more devoted than the Leo woman in love.

Because she is a fixed fire sign, she will attach her full, feverish energy to whatever creative or loving pursuit has her attention.

To be loved by her is like being offered a challenge, one that demands a man expressing his feelings to the fullest capacity.

She may put her partner through the emotional ringer, constantly demanding more proof of their interest in her.

She will do this until she learns a life lesson that almost every Leo woman will need to learn in their love life; to back off.

Far too often in her life, she will bark up the wrong tree, especially when it comes to romantic interests.

Early on in her life, she will far too often end up in relationships with himbos because of her overbearing nature when pursuing someone.

Once she comes to this revelation, she will learn that she needs to ease up, both in her pursuit of someone to be in a relationship with and in her pursuit of constant validation once she’s in a relationship.

She usually learns the hard way that love chased is often the one hardest to keep.

The man who is lucky enough to get the Leo woman in bed will have to overwhelm her. Only by doing this, will they actually prove themselves worthy of her love.

She wants a man who can keep up with her, some healthy competition is what she really craves.

She enjoys besting and being bested in bed.

She thrives on high-powered men, those who generate growth in the world - makers, shakers, movers, and manufacturers- self-made men and kings of industry, leaders worthy of her company.

It takes a special kind of man to be with Leo, one who gives way to her fiercest dramas, remaining unruffled, but who will nonetheless refuse to be whipped by her.

She will at some point in her life learn that for her, of all women, Mr.Rights are few and far between.

This is when she learns self-love is exactly what she needs to feel fulfilled in life.

She will fuel her love of herself with the admiration of others.

She tends to find the love that she seeks when she least expects it - while she is focused on her personal ambitions.

She demands a great challenge from men, demanding whether they can break her self-protective barrier and love her as much as she loves herself.

Until a man is successful in breaking down her barriers, an emotionally evolved Leo is living proof that if you love yourself, the whole world loves you back.

If the Leo woman has been burned enough times trying to engineer and force relationships, she may one day find herself willing to let a man take the reins in driving their relationship.

Leo women can be so self-consumed that they can’t help but attract men who are secure enough in their masculinity to not feel threatened by her.

She craves someone who will stand up to the rigorous rough and tumble lifestyle and sex life she enjoys without fear of crushing his ego.

She likes to battle her lover for dominance in the bedroom. This is not to say that she is usually a dom. Rather, she is more of a switch and prefers her partner to be one too.

She is an enthusiastic lover and a fast learner.

For her, sex needs to feel like play.

She expects her partner to successfully, and willingly, put her through her sexual paces.

This explains why she typically goes for younger guys.

She appreciates a younger man's innocence and wide-eyed enthusiasm when it comes to sex, and she will eagerly take on the role of their teacher.

She’s not usually one to hesitate jumping into bed with a man too early in the relationship. She needs to check out the merchandise before she fully commits to someone and this is the only way she knows how to do that properly.

She can have a wandering eye when she is in a relationship with a man who doesn’t satisfy her.

Size does matter to her, especially girth.

She is not one to like slow and steady sex, she wants it rough and fast. Not fast as in a quickie more like fast-paced. Marathon sex is exactly what she craves.

She’s not necessarily verbal, more like noisy, and a screamer.

She has no interest in role-play and is turned off by men who seem to be too in their heads in bed.

She wants a man who agrees that sex is about getting off as furiously as possible.

Sex needs to be equal give and take for her to be satisfied.

She hates oral and is not one to ever do it and when she does it tends to be quite toothy.

She prefers to reach her climax vaginally, clitorally is too acute for her to feel fully satisfied.

Since she is rarely in touch with her femininity, she does not like a man who is in touch with his own.

She requires a fiercely masculine lover who will be able to handle her ferocious, aggressive self and make her look like a delicate flower in tandem.

She is so often the leader in all aspects of her life that when she finds the right man she will be willing to let him take the lead in their relationship.

Leo Woman Interested in Women:

Leo women no matter their sexuality have a very intense relationship with other women.

The Leo woman interested in women is especially provocative around women. She will always be pushing buttons - pointing out weaknesses, challenging opinions, questioning motives, and especially poking fun - behavior that is intended to test other women’s mettle and elicit emotions.

She likes to turn up the heat on other women, whose placid natures she blames on society's crushing domination of her gender.

This is why she pokes and prods at women so much, so she can see if they have passion in them. For when they explode even in anger she will smile at them with a look that says “I knew you had it in you “.

Most of her relationships with women start with her poking fun at them, gauging whether she has the requisite impassioned responses she’ll later hope to encounter in the bedroom.

Her type of woman is typically the straight-passing girl who will give her the thrill of feeling like she showed them the ropes of sex with another woman.

She also enjoys stealing a woman from their boyfriend.

Unlike the straight Leo woman, she is okay with being in touch with her masculine side

She is relationship orientated in the extreme, usually going for a plain Jane woman who she says has “potential”.

Sex without love is particularly empty for her, what she longs for is rarely found in one-night stands.

Sex for her means the absolute sharing of emotion, and if she’s not feeling the love, she’ll have nothing to give to them.

When she does find someone she loves, she will fall hard, and the subsequent outpouring of her emotions can make any woman feel overwhelmed.

She is profoundly loyal and demands the same in return.

She guards her private life and her lover as fiercely as a lion would her cubs.

Since she is more dominant and prefers to be, she demands that her lover be the femme in bed, often wearing frilly lingerie, performing seductive stripteases, and otherwise indulging in stereotypically female trappings.

She will verbally taunt her love while simultaneously working them over with toys, driving them to orgasm to orgasm.

She is a hopeless romantic, forever surprising her lover with tokens of her affection, or spontaneously whisking her off for a candlelit dinner or surprise weekend away.

As long as she and her lover can be alone together, all is right in the world.

Since Leo is ruled by the 5th house which is associated with procreation and children, all Leos dream of having kids.

Sperm is sometimes all the gay Leo woman thinks a man is good for.

While adoption is an option, she may prefer to produce her child. However, this child can not be made out of wedlock so, before she has a baby with her lover they need to get married.

Leo women can fall out of love without warning. They are rarely promiscuous, rather she will leave her lover and jump into a relationship rather quickly, often getting married many times in her life.

She wants her lover to be successful, so she can flaunt her and her lover to any person she meets.

She is comfortable when surrounded by only men, oftentimes she tends to act more masculine than the most masculine of men.

She will protect her lover passionately.

She doesn't have laissez-faire relationships; she fiercely bonds and extravagantly luxuriates in the lush environment of a fertile, thriving, infinitely hot, and heavy relationship.

#astrology and the sexes #astrology #zodiac signs #Leo #Leo woman #aphrostarot #astrology observations #astrology notes #sextrology

[unreliablesnake]

Your memory (König x reader)

Note: Oh, boy. I was talking to someone about my mental health issues today and it gave me an idea. I'm sorry. I'm so so fucking sorry.

Warnings: suicide, depression, afab!reader, the reader has a good relationship with their parents and isn't from Austria.

It all began when you were still stupid kids, back when despite his height and strength his social anxiety made his life a living hell. His parents took him to a therapist to get help, so every week he went there after school to talk about his issues.

One day he got there earlier than usual–he needed a safe place to stay after two of the bullies from his class saw him nearby and started berating him in public–and there you were in the waiting room, reading a book quietly in a corner with one of your earbuds in.

You were pretty, he could see that, and at the time he was just another hormone-driven teenage boy whose brain was invaded by dirty thoughts at your sight. Your skirt was a little too short, your shirt drew attention to your breasts, and the shiny lip gloss made him wonder what it tasted like.

Then they called you in, strangely enough speaking to you in English, which made him wonder if you were a foreigner.

The next week he decided to arrive sooner again, hoping he could see you. You were there, but he didn't talk to you. He didn't have the courage to do so.

This went on for another two weeks, with him silently watching you, right until one day you pulled out the earbud from your ear and gave him a questioning look. When he turned his gaze somewhere else, you stood up and sat on a chair next to him. You asked him if he spoke English to which he only replied with a nod.

In the following weeks he learned a lot about you. Your father was an expat, you were suffering from depression, you liked to read, you loved music–it always helped you calm down–you had a surprisingly good relationship with your parents despite being a teenager, and you were missing your old home.

You were the one who dared to ask him out. At first he didn't even know what to say, but then he agreed with a smile.

You were his first serious girlfriend. After two years your dad had to move again, and he joined the military, but you kept in touch despite the distance and obstacles. Your messages always made him smile, gave him strength, and he liked to think about how your life would change once you returned for college.

But you never did.

One day, after a very long and very tiring day, he gave you a call, knowing well enough that you were a few hours behind so you would probably answer. Someone answered, but it wasn't you. It was your father. He could immediately hear it, the sadness in his voice that he could only understand when he somehow managed to tell him that you had committed suicide the night before.

He muttered a few words on autopilot, the words leaving his mouth without thinking before he ended the call and sank on his bed. He couldn't believe it.

He didn't want to believe it.

He quickly checked his messages, thinking he would find something, anything that would have given away what you were planning to do, that maybe it was his fault, that maybe he wasn't paying enough attention to you.

But there was nothing. Absolutely nothing.

To this day, he often wonders what he did wrong. Was it even his fault? Was there anything he could have done to prevent this? Why did you do this? You didn't leave a letter behind.

These days he usually thinks of you because of a song that plays on a random playlist, a book he sees in a bookstore, or when he sees someone who looks a lot like you, giving him hope that maybe you just returned to him.

It's never you.

And it will never be you again.

#call of duty #konig x reader #konig #könig #könig x reader #cod könig #cod konig

[suchine-toki]

Thoughts about Shinpachi

Many times I’ve seen how he’s called out for being a boring character or that he’s annoying for yelling a lot, and although he never seemed like an annoying character to me, I’ve to agree that he’s dull compared to his companions.

Shinpachi is the ordinary character of the main group, the straight man who balances Gintoki and Kagura within the Yorozuya. He starts out as someone who lacks strength and courage, but gradually improves over the course of the series. His initial goal is to save his family's dojo, though that’s more of something Tae wanted to do for his father, not a personal aspiration of his.

At first he was given the trait of being the leader of Otsuu's imperial troop, which was an interesting contrast to his usually submissive personality, showing he has leadership skills, but he never made much of it. Although it does help characterize him as someone with a very good heart, supporting Otsuu when she was just a street artist.

I think that's the strong point of Shinpachi's character. He’s compassionate and always remains optimistic despite difficulties. He’s kind and genuinely good. But he also suffers from an inferiority complex, he feels he has no control over his life in a society in which he lost the only thing that made him special, being a samurai.

In the case of Gintoki and Kagura, their stories were relatively planned from the beginning (at least Sorachi had an idea), which wasn’t the case with Shinpachi. We could say that Beam Saber arc is the arc of his past. Here, like his companions, he must face someone from his past who has become a villain. While it's a very emotional moment for both him and Tae, this whole situation has the problem that it was never brought up before and never brought up again.

Part of the arc's conclusion is how the two siblings go on vacation after the fact, a joke that takes some weight off the situation in my opinion. The true conclusion of the arc shows Shinpachi reviving the dojo by teaching the homeless, but later we see that this doesn't hold up over time either, so the whole arc ends up feeling kind of pointless in regards to his character development.

Something similar happens in the Correspondence arc, in which Kirara is introduced. Here they both pretend to be someone else when they meet, however, in the end they show themselves as they are, realizing that they’ve many things in common. It always seemed like a very nice thing to me, so I regretted the fact that Kirara didn’t appear again.

This wasn’t only because it was an important lesson for him to learn, but also because it would’ve been interesting to add another layer as Shinpachi's love interest. I don't mean including Kirara in the main cast, but keeping her present through the letters she would write to Shinpachi and bringing her back from time to time would’ve been enough.

Nevertheless, I consider the biggest problem occurred at the end of the series. Shinpachi was slowly but surely becoming an independent character. However, in the ending he’s shown to be unable to move on if he’s not with Gintoki by his side. And don’t get me wrong, I'm not trying to say that it's wrong that Shinpachi is very fond of Gintoki.

Nor it’s bad per se that he wants to be with the Yorozuya. It's about how it was shown. It appears that Shinpachi never followed his own dream. Restoring the dojo was something his sister wanted to do, not him. In the time skip he’s already an adult of 18 years. Staying in the Yorozuya seemed more like the need to remain in a shelter to avoid going out and having to face the world.

I would’ve liked to see that at the end of the series, someone who feels they’ve no control over his life would decide his own path. For someone with an inferiority complex to feel self-confident. Since the first prototype of the character was Nagakura Shinpachi, the captain of the second Shinsengumi squad, I would’ve loved Shinpachi to join the Shinsengumi, taking advantage of his leadership skills.

#Gintama #Shimura Shinpachi #Happy Birthday! #Ended up writing more than expected #But I'd a lot to say #I love him and he deserved better #Thoughts about #I can write #my post

[trans-eddie]

steve/eddie headcanon masterpost I'll update to keep track:

steve

cancer sun, taurus moon, leo rising, venus in pisces, mars in libra, lilith in leo

has trauma, both physically and emotionally

this trauma leaves him with issues like headaches, vision problems, and declining hearing

his emotional trauma has him feeling like he'll never be good enough. he's not naturally an insecure person, but all the little ways he's been made to feel inferior have been carved into him by now, so he doesn't wallow in pitying himself for being how he is, he just accepts the not-neccesssrily-true perceptions of being not good enough and works overtime to compensate.

has dyslexia and struggled in school but everyone thought he was a dumb jock so it wasn't caught

his parents are emotionally neglectful but provide everything he needs in the way of money and etc. so he doesn't realize that they're neglectful, and can sometimes feel bad that he has resentment and hurt regarding them

his father cut him off after the events at scoops when steve decided he wanted to stay and work a minimum wage job with robin rather than pick up the family business, and his father thought it would teach him a lesson and he would come crawling back. he didn't.

he's severely emotionally dependant. he expects everyone he cares about to leave him, and defaults on being useful and providing for people so they'll want to stay. he's a level 10 clinger and that manifests in him giving too much.

he got over robin almost instantly and now will tell people they're basically siblings or maybe even two halves of the same idiot. he's gratuitous in physical affection with her because its okay, she won't translate it the wrong way, and that was like the green light he needed to seek some of the physical affection he craves.

he also will call dustin his younger brother and the whole party "his kids." he wants a family very badly partly because he grew up wishing he had siblings.

he likes sports specifically because of the team aspect. its like joining a big family and they often rely on him and it makes him feel good and less alone.

he hates his house not only because barb died there, but also because its big and empty and has been his whole life. its impersonally decorated and it doesn't feel like a home, like a lived in space.

part of the reason he likes dating so much is its an excuse to be anywhere but his own house, and he loves being with someone to the point he can join their family dinners and feel part of them.

he also dates a lot because he's desperate for attention and approval, and has a hole in him he needs to fill. but he's also suffering a lot of comphet, and it never works for him because he's only dated women.

he likes men. he's probably gay, but he's never explored the possibility of liking men, and until he met robin he never knew he could do that. he dates more women, hoping each one will solve his growing dissatisfaction with them, but it leaves him feeling empty, and he has to create more and more excuses as to why he never likes them.

he's got a feminine side, and once he feels the freedom to explore it, or learns that gender expression is something he can play with, he definitely leans into the feminine side. he's probably something like genderfluid.

he's used to taking care of people so much all the time, he loves being taken care of in the bedroom. to be able to relax and put himself in someone else's hands and feel loved and cared for.

his prominant traits are loyalty, courage, intense emotionality, and generosity.

his negative traits are the result of this, in that his emotional intensity can leave him to be petty and lash out when he feels hurt, and he gets easily jealous. his loyalty can be overbearing and needy, his courage can be rash and dangerous, and he can give more than he ought to.

he also can be extremely bitchy. his mom tendencies go full pta karen when it comes to the kids, and robin indulges his love of gossip and being judgey.

eddie

leo sun, scorpio moon, aquarius rising, venus in taurus, mars in virgo, lilith in aquarius

autistic and adhd

he's a burned out gifted kid, in that he had a very high reading level at a young age and is even really good at math, but he never properly learned how to study, so when the difficulty level ramped up in high school, he started falling behind. this only matched his reputation for being a trailer trash poor kid, so no one bothered to help him.

he has sensory issues with light, but he likes loud noise to stim. metal music hits that sweet spot.

he's incredibly good with music. he has the kind of ear that lets him play almost anything just by listening to it, and he has a similar skill with his voice. he can imitate the singing styles of a lot of vocalists.

fantasy and storytelling is an escape for him, and is also his special interest. his taste for metal also comes from this, because a lot of metal albums like to tell stories and sometimes are about fantasy subjects.

he was bullied as a younger child, and learned to play up the "freak" part of his personality so bullies would be too weirded out to go near him. he faces verbal abuse more than physical in high school. because the metal music, drugs, and dnd, people are afraid of him on top of thinking he's weird.

his family is jewish, his mother specifically. this adds to why a lot of the waspy hawkins people are so quick to believe he's doing something "satanic" and corrupting the kids.

his father taught him to hide. he learned from a young age that getting caught is the worst thing that could happen, so at the first sign of trouble he books it and no one will find him if he doesn't want them to. this was both literally taught, and the product of eddie not wanting to be in the line of fire when his father was in a volatile mood.

his childhood was wildly unstable, and his family was definitely homeless for periods of time. nothing changed until his mother died and his father got arrested, at which point his uncle quit being a trucker so he could take care of him.

eddie started dealing as a way to bring in extra cash for his uncle because he hates feeling like a burden or inconvenience.

he loves kids and wants to be a role model for them. he sees them as the hope for the future, and he takes pride in being a reason that none of them have the lonely, painful childhood he did.

he's grown up around a lot of rejects and in shady areas, so he's been familiar with other gay people since he could talk. as a result he's always known he was queer.

he might call himself gay, but he views himself as more queer, without strict limits, because while he's never been particularly interested in women, he's really open minded about gender and would be open to dating people who fuck around with it.

he himself isn't picky about gender. knowing he's queer and how that makes people see him makes him joke about "not really being a man," and he leans into flamboyancy because its just how he is and how he's gonna be seen regardless. if he had the words, he might describe himself as genderqueer. he also likes to do drag.

he's never properly dated before. no one in school except the younger kids will come near him, and it's dangerous anyway. he's been to a few cities to hook up some, but opportunities do not present themselves often and he flags in the hope that he might find more of his scene in hawkins.

he prefers to be in charge. he's been on the wrong end of enough bullying and mistreatment that he doesn't enjoy letting anyone else have power over him, and his unstable childhood means he feels a lot safer being in control of what he can.

his prominent traits are passion, creativity, charisma, independence

these manifest his negative traits, in that his passion can become overly intense. his creativity can leave him with an abundance of ideas he never follows through on and also leaves his head full of fantasies that become a hindrance to him participating in real life. his charisma is often overdramatics that can bring the wrong kind of attention and cause him to act inappropriately. his independence means he challenges authority to a problematic degree, and he also is unused to relying on anyone for help even when he needs it.

he is also very flighty and unreliable, following impulsitivity and his survival instincts above all else. his coping mechanisms are not always healthy, and when he feels a loss of control, running is his best self defense. he is used to having to protect himself.

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #find again

[anonymoushouseplantfan]

From one of Canada's three major papers

OPINION

Spare me: Prince Harry’s claim of victimhood doesn’t quite fly

PHOEBE MALTZ BOVY

SPECIAL TO THE GLOBE AND MAIL

Copies of Prince Harry's new book Spare at a shop in London, on Jan. 10.CHRIS JACKSON/GETTY IMAGES

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Phoebe Maltz Bovy is a contributing columnist for The Globe and Mail.

Some – and I’m among them – argue that rather than being a way to promote social justice, so-called wokeness is about maintaining the status quo. A system of rules and manners that might seem progressive is in fact a cover for material inequality.

One could not design a better example of this than Prince Harry, the world’s premier nepotism baby. In his new memoir, Spare, Harry (he abhors snobbery, so let’s drop the “Prince”), bolstered by therapy, offers himself up as a courageous opponent of stiff-upper-lip upscale Britishness. He’s a modern man, in touch with his feelings. And he’s had it with archaic royal protocol, especially the bit about giving the kingdom to the elder son. Fight the power!

The biggest bombshells coming out of Prince Harry’s memoir, Spare

What Spare seeks to accomplish is to translate the life experience of a Prince who has spent much of his life carousing – a man whose life makes everyday white male privilege seem paltry – into the story of a victim of systemic forces.

When he partied, this was not a prince cavorting. It was a troubled young man finding solace in the bottle, the Ziploc bag.

Apart from the self-medicating, pre-rift Harry was known for having worn a Nazi uniform to a 2005 costume party. Ordinary people have been cancelled for less. But a royal, even a “spare,” is uncancellable. We learn that Prince Charles summonedthe Chief Rabbi of Britain, who told Harry – 20 at the time – what the Holocaust was.

Harry recounts this episode in his usual feelings-speak. The takeaway is not about mankind’s evil depths, but rather about … his own “self-loathing.” And anyway, how contrite did he need to be, given that, in his telling, William and Kate put him up to it?

Indeed, much of the book covers how Harry feels, temperature-wise, while in the army but also in civilian situations. He’s forever either too warm or too cold. (The latter involves a nauseating anecdote about frostbitten nether regions. Harry’s no Gary Shteyngart, and should have left well enough alone.)

He complains that he finds the dining room at Sandringham House “subtropical,” but that the Queen’s corgis objected to open windows (the draft, you see) so footmen would audibly close them. “That loud thump, unavoidable because the windows were so old, always felt like the door of a jail cell being slammed.”

Royalty, for Harry, has been a prison. It’s involved being hounded by paparazzi, and it made his pre-Meghan romantic life a challenge: women were either put off by the lack of privacy, or a little too excited about becoming a princess. That being a royal has also afforded him endless second chances and unfathomable gobs of money eludes him.

The point is not that Harry hasn’t suffered. To lose your mother at 12 is tragic even if you’re a prince. Where things get murky is in Harry’s interpretation of more recent history. Do the grumblings of a second-born royal hold a place in any broader fight for justice? With the exception of the ones specifically about the British tabloid press’s racism against his wife, it’s hard to make that leap. Yes, he moved to California after falling out with his family. But is he right to say he “fled”?

The power that comes with being Prince Harry is his for life, whatever his official role within the Royal Family. Harry claims his father left him “unemployable.” But he canstill do whatever he feels like (such as get a memoir ghostwritten by a fine writer), put a giant “Prince Harry” stamp on it and sell it to rapturous audiences.

The narrative at this point weaves from spring 2020 up to fall 2022. COVID – and the world shutting down – goes unmentioned, except as it affects their travel. A reference to Meghan’s three-bedroom detached property in Toronto as her “little house” offers a subtle reminder of Harry’s perspective. The book is at its strongest when Harry leans into that highly unusual vantage point.

Between the lines, and despite itself, Spare can be a fun, escapist and gossipy read, about a world where homes have 50 bedrooms and young people go on safari with hippos because why not. There’s the thrill of hearing the late Queen Elizabeth referred to as “Granny.” A royal story is worth more than a regular one, a fact that ultimately unites Harry with the tabloid journalists he – understandably – loathes.

On the streetcar home, gripping my copy of Spare, two older women sitting near me discussed the price of cauliflower. Nine dollars. More than these ladies could, uh, spare.

Thanks!

[urg1rlfri3nd]

Aaron Z x Pregnant s/o hcs

First of all, how Z found out you were pregnant:

Aaron Z walked into your place after rehearsal. 

"Babe, I'm here," Z announced.

You came from the bathroom and looked kind of guilty.

"Hey, baby. How was it?" You asked, trying to set him at ease with questions.

"Good. All the same." Z looked at you and noticed that you were hiding something behind your back. "What's that?"

You jumped a little bit and tried to figure out what to say. "Um…I'll tell you b-but how about you sit down first?" 

Z looked at you with a confused expression. "Okay? Is somethin' wrong?" Z wondered as he sat down on the couch. 

You stood in front of him. "Listen, you know how we…did it last night but we couldn't go to the pharmacy 'cause it was closed?"

Z automatically felt worried. "Y-yeah?"

"Well I went today and got some pills but I also bought somethin' else just to check," You mentioned.

"W-what's it?" Z asked.

You took a deep breath and showed Z a positive pregnancy test. "I'm…pregnant."

Z grew silent. He stared into the abyss and you grew worried. 

"Z, baby, are you alright?" You asked while shaking him a little.

Z finally snapped out of it and looked at you. "Pregnant?! Y-you can't be pregnant! Are you sure that it's accurate?!"

You nodded your head. "I took more than one." You sat down beside him. "We're gonna have a baby."

Z didn't know what to do or say. You two kinda just sat there in silence for a minute.

You finally broke the silence. "Babe, look, I know this is a lot considering that you have your career and band stuff to do…so if you wanna break up with me, you can. I won't judge," You said with disappointment.

Z was in fact terrified and didn't know what do, but as soon as he heard those words from you, he knew exactly what he wanted.

Z took your hand and held it, causing you a bit of shock. "Y/n, I know we never wanted any kids right now, and even though I'm scared, I would never leave you."

You looked at Z and saw that he was about to cry. Even though he was terrified himself, he made sure that you knew that you weren't alone. That made you sure that he would be a good father. 

"Thanks, babe." You looked at the pregnancy test again. "A baby, huh? That's gonna change things."

Z sniffled. "Yeah, but I'll make sure you're not alone. Promise."

Now onto the general headcanons:

After Z found out that you were pregnant, he was super protective of you. Z moved in with you some time after the day he found out about the pregnancy. 

Not letting you move around a lot, making sure that you eat, and always by you whenever he can be. 

Since Z has rehearsals and stuff to do with the band, you're often left alone at home which isn't a problem since you're used to it by now. 

Z makes sure to call you and stuff whenever he has to go on tour or go out of town. 

Z will be worrying a lot about you and the baby's wellfare. The other members are a witness to this.

Speaking of the other members, they knew that you and Z were dating but they didn't know that you were pregnant. 

It took a lot of courage for you and Z to tell them but you guys did. They were very supportive and congratulated you both. 

Since you are pregnant, Z will do anything to make sure that you are satisfied. 

Want to eat a specific food? He'll make it.

Want to watch a specific movie? He'll buy it for you.

Anything to make sure that you're okay and happy. Even if his wallet suffers from it.

Since you have pregnancy symptoms, Z learns how to deal with you. 

For example: one time you and Z were home together eating dinner. You were eating your fries and kept on putting salt on them.

"Uh, baby, don't you think that's enough salt?" Z questioned.

"Why? It's my food so I can put as much salt as I want on there. Is there a problem?" You gave Z a death stare and he immediately knew how to answer.

"N-no, babe."

After that he made sure never to question you and your food choices. 

Overall Z is a great boyfriend to you while you're pregnant.

On the day you went into labor, Z rushed to the hospital to be with you.  

Once he saw you on the hospital bed he immediately gave you a hug. 

Z was disappointed for not being there for you when you went into labor but you were glad that he was there now.

You guys had a girl.

The second he held his daughter he broke into tears. Z knew at that moment that he would do whatever it took to protect you and his little one.

#aaron z #4town #4townie #4*town x reader #4town headcanons

[bobafett51]

I just want to tell them that I love them. I want to let them know how handsome they are, how attractive they are, how smart they are, how kind they are, how loving they are, how their heart is the most beautiful, radiant, and exuberant heart on this mortal earth. I want to shower them with the love, affection, and praise they deserve. The love only made possible through god. Love from a pure heart, a good conscious, and a sincere faith. But i can’t and it is torture.

I set one of the people I love most free. It is what they needed, it might be what I needed, but how I pray, wish, and dream of them coming back to me when god deems us both ready. But what even is ready? Nobody is ever fully ready for something, so I hope for, pray, and dream of the day god deems us both ready enough.

C.S. Lewis once said, “To love you as I should, I must worship God as Creator. When I have learnt to love God better than my earthly dearest, I shall love my earthly dearest better than I do now.” Well now I’ve finally learned to love god more than anyone or anything else. And I have prayed every night to be released from my longing if they’re not the person for me. Yet the longing never ceases and I do not know why.

With nowhere else to go I cry to the heavens how much I love them, care for them, and want to see them happy. I cry to the heavens how much every smile, laugh, and subtle glance from them filled, warmed, and repaired my broken heart. I cry to the heavens how much my soul feels so incredibly inextricably linked to them. Have I not carried out god’s will? I have sinned many times, but is that not outweighed by the people I’ve helped heal? Have I not suffered enough to be relieved of this pain one way or another?

In the book of Job we learn that suffering is a natural consequence of life and necessary to stay on god’s path. It teaches us that suffering is in and of itself a gift. Job was a perfectly pious man who never sinned. Regardless, he lost his family, his estate, and his health. But he eventually learned to accept the suffering and embrace god. The suffering brought him closer to god and made him more human.

I have learned to embrace and love pretty much all the things in my life, including the suffering. Including this suffering. But it’s so tiring on my heart, my body, my mind, my soul, and my spirit. I don’t know how much longer I can keep going with this suffering. But god always finds ways to give me strength, rejuvenate, and heal me. Yet everyday I want to call out to them. To offer my help and to ask for theirs. Because although I’ve always offered my help, I could use theirs, too. I pray for relief, the relief I want, and also any relief at all. But at the end of the day I only ask that not my will be done but that God’s will be done and for the strength, faith, and courage to fulfill god’s will. This is the primary lesson I need to learn now on my journey, I know that much. But I pray for mortal help, I pray for their help, I pray to form a new friendship and relationship with them.

#i know you miss me #i miss you #please come home #i need you #don’t you need me too #i love you #i love them #do you care? #cry for help #faith in jesus #faith in god #christian faith #faithinchrist #faith #keep the faith #god #book of job #lovesick #love poem #love blog #blogging #blogger #blog #come back #letting go #please come back #life #word of god #trust in god #i will always love you

[fictionadventurer]

Your wonderful post on "It's A Wonderful Life" reminded me of this terrible segment in this Freakonomics Documentary I saw in class called "It's NOT a Wonderful Life" which argued that abortion was good because it meant fewer people were being born into bad homes and thus growing up to be criminals. I still can't believe there are people in the world who legitimately think this and promote these arguments. It irritates me that they used the title of this movie, a movie about a man who learns that life was worth living despite the suffering he endured, to essentially say "yeah it's better if some people were never born."

That's horrendous. To be fair, they are specifically arguing against the movie's entire premise, which is the reason they use the title. But their horrific argument highlights the darkness at the center of the pro-abortion movement. They say that no one should be born into hard childhood or a life of poverty or a disability, but their solution is not to relieve the suffering, but to kill the person. Suffering makes life not worth living, so only the happy, successful, healthy, wealthy people deserve to have any life at all. Everyone else is disposable.

That's Potter's argument. That's Scrooge's argument. Saying someone shouldn't be born because their life will be hard is not compassion--it's the ultimate in selfishness. It's looking at your neighbor and saying not, "I should help them," but, "They shouldn't exist." It's destroying the sufferer instead of the suffering.

The pro-abortion movement is suicidal ideation on a societal level. It's built on a lack of courage that comes from a lack of hope--we can't solve these problems, so why should be we even try? Why should we bring people into this world when working to make it better does so little good?

It's a Wonderful Life beautifully shows that the struggle is not useless. George Bailey gives up his dreams. He suffers poverty. He feels like he doesn't matter, and the beautiful thing is that he gets to see that he does. Even if he ultimately failed, his struggles made life better for his town, for his family, for the world.

But even on a personal level, showing specifically how the world would be worse if he had never been born makes it a blazing beacon against the darkness of those who argue for abortion. By not being born, George suffered no health problems, no regrets, no struggles, no suffering--but he also has none of the joys of life. He ends up back on that bridge begging for his life back, fully believing that he's going to go to jail, because his problems don't change the fact that life is worth living. There is no suffering that erases the goodness in life, no matter how much despair tries to convince us otherwise. There is always hope, because even amid the darkness there is goodness and love, if we can be brave enough to see it, create it, nurture it. But first we have to be alive--which is why life is a gift that should be given to every child, no matter their circumstances.

#it's a wonderful life #answered asks #pro life #mademoiseli #sorry for the delay #i wanted to give a decent answer #i wound up with yet another repetitive essay but thank you for the chance to write this anyway

[middleearthpixie]

After the Fire ~ Chapter Thirty

Summary: Following the Battle of the Five Armies, a grievously wounded Thorin is brought back to the kingdom of Erebor, which is still mostly in ruins. Although he’s survived the wounds he received at the end of Azog’s blade, his recovery is far from complete. Grief, regret, anger, all are making his journey that much more difficult and the physical recovery isn’t quite the most difficult challenge he faces.

Jasna Stoneham is no stranger to loss, as she is a survivor of Smaug’s wrath upon Esgaroth. When she is asked to help the dwarves healers of Erebor, her instinct is to say no, but she needs the job, and so agrees to it. However, no one told her that of all the patients, she would be responsible for the king himself, Thorin Oakenshield. 

Unfortunately, the road to recovery isn’t necessary a smooth one, but if there’s one thing Thorin will learn, it’s that Jasna is just as stubborn as he is and for every step back he takes, she is there to push him three steps forward. And Jasna will soon find out that there is a gentle, softer side to the dwarf king, one that very few people have ever seen and one he fights to keep hidden from her as well. But like his recovery, that is also easier said than done. 

Thorin finally works up the courage to tell Jasna about the law forbidding their marriage…

Pairing: Thorin Oakenshield x ofc Jasna Stoneham

Characters: Jasna, Thorin, Shael, Mr. Whitbow, Mrs. Whitbow 

Warnings: Oral sex (f receiving,) unprotected intercourse

Rating: M

Word Count: 4,732

Tag List: @tschrist1 @i-did-not-mean-to @lathalea @linasofia @fizzyxcustard @legolasbadass @kibleedibleedoo @xxbyimm @arrthurpendragon @exhausted-humxn-being @rachel1959 @laurfilijames @sketch-and-write-lover @sherala007 @enchantzz @knitastically @notlostgnome @myselfandfantasy @medusas-hairband @guardianofrivendell @jotink78 @sorisooyaa @ruthoakenshield @quiall321 @dianakc

If you’d like to be added (or removed) to the tag list, please just let me know!

Previous chapters can be found here. 

Jasna hummed softly to herself as she made her way along the corridor from the therapy room, the tune dying on her lips as Shael emerged from the Great Hall and looked directly at her. Jasna offered up a smile as she said, “Good evening.”

“How are you, Miss Stoneham?”

“Please, Jasna is fine and I’m well. And yourself?”

“I’ve had better weeks.”

Guilt pricked at Jana’s insides, which was silly, really. She hadn’t done anything wrong and neither had Thorin. One certainly couldn’t control what their heart wanted and one had very little control in with whom they fell in love. 

Still, she was the reason why Shael would not be marrying Thorin and while Jasna would be lying if she said she wasn’t unhappy about that, she also didn't want Shael to suffer, either. She knew full well what it was like to lose Thorin. She sympathized with her one-time rival.

“I wish there was something I could d-d-do or say that wouldn’t s-s-sound tr-tr-trite or silly.”

“I know, and I don’t fault you. Well, not entirely, if I’m being totally honest.” A hint of color rose in Shael’s cheeks. “And if I’m being absolutely honest, I’d confess that Thorin and I would most likely never suit one another. At least, not the way you and he do.”

Jasna wasn't at all certain how to respond to that. She cleared her throat. “I n-n-never meant f-f-for this to h-h-happen, Miss Whitbow.”

“I know. And I understand. And please,” she managed a smile, “call me Shael. We aren’t enemies, after all.”

“I’m glad. That we aren’t, I mean.” She smiled as Fíli wheeled toward them, pausing long enough to wave before he steered himself into the Great Hall. 

“I heard he was up and walking today,” Shael remarked, nodding in Fíli’s direction.

“He was, and he was doing wonderfully, actually.” Jasna smiled. “It won’t be long before he’s up and on his feet entirely on his own and he won’t need me any longer.”

“I spoke to him earlier.” Shael turned back toward her. “He’s grown up since I last saw him. Between him and his brother, they would tease a girl almost until she cried at one point. I don’t get that feeling about him any longer.”

“He’s been through much.” Jasna peered around the corner into the Great Hall, watching as Fíli wheeled over to where Dís sat. Then she leaned back. “You should go and sit with them. I’d wager he’d l-l-love the company.”

She bit back her smile as a hint of blush crept along Shael’s cheekbones. “Do you think so?”

“I do, yes. He could use all of the friends he can g-get.”

“Shael, there you are!” 

“Mother, where else would I be?” Shael’s voice rang with exasperation as they were joined by two more dwarves, neither of whom Jasna recognized. “Mother, Father, this is Miss Stoneham. Miss St—”

“We know who she is,” Mrs. Whitbow said, a hint of smug superiority in her voice. “The interloper from Esgaroth.”

“Mother!”

Jasna’s cheeks grew warm but she refused to give either one of them the satisfaction of looking anywhere but directly at them. The tiniest hint of triumph shot through her when Shael’s mother averted her gaze within seconds. A small victory, but a victory just the same. 

“Now, now, Ellisar,” Mr. Whitbow broke in jovially, his dark eyes nowhere near as warm as his voice, “this is neither the time nor the place.”

“Miss Stoneham has done nothing to warrant a drop of anger from you or Father,” Shael told her sternly. “And I’ll not stand by and let you be angry on my behalf when I am the one to urged Thorin to make things right with her because he belongs with her, and she with him.”

“Be that as it may,” Mr. Whitbow replied, giving Jasna a long up and down stare that made her uneasy for reasons she couldn’t explain, “she has no place among us here.”

“No, she certainly does not, Garrik,” Mrs. Whitbow sniffed. “Thorin is making a terrible mistake.”

“Mother, I mean it,” Shael growled, narrowing her eyes at her parents. “Now, behave or I swear to you, I’ll run off with the first Man I see when Miss Stoneham and I go into Dale tomorrow.”

Jasna hoped her confusion didn't show on her face, for she had no idea what Shael was going on about. They had made no plans to go into Dale. This was the first time she’d even spoken to Shael alone since she returned to Erebor. 

Still, that didn't stop her from saying, “I do know where we m-m-m-might f-f-find you an eligible bachelor or two. Perhaps more. Especially in the taverns.”

The looks of horror on both faces was enough to very nearly make her smile, but she managed to hold it back as Shael said, “Good. That will be the first place we go, then.”

Mrs. Whitbow sniffed and grabbed her husband’s arm. “Come along, Garrik. I find myself in need of wine.”

“Or something stronger.” 

Jasna pressed her lips together as they stomped off, and once they were out of earshot, Shael grabbed her by the arm and tucked her head against Jasna’s shoulder. “Thank you, Miss—Jasna… I appreciate your quick thinking.”

“It isn’t a problem, and I d-d-do know where we might find them, but we don’t have pl-plans to go into Dale.”

“I almost wish we did.” Shael sighed softly, glancing back into the Great Hall and as she followed her line of sight Jasna saw who’d caught her attention.

“If you like,” she said, leaning closer so no one could overhear them, “I think Fíli could use a bit of a cheering section during our sessions, if y-y-you’d like to sit in with us.”

“Oh, I’d hate to impose.”

“I don’t think you’d be imposing at all. H-h-he must grow t-t-tired of having only me or Narnerra or Óin to l-look at.”

Shael’s eyes almost sparkled. “Would you do that?”

“I would, yes.” Jasna nodded. “I’ll be s-s-seeing him around noon. So, if you h-h-happen to be in the area…”

“Thank you, Jasna. That’s very sweet of you.”

“Think nothing of it.” Jasna looked back into the Great Hall once more. “I think your p-p-parents are waiting for you.”

“Ugh.” Shael let out a heavy exhale and then added, “I suppose I should join them. But, I will see you tomorrow.”

“Noon.”

“Noon.”

With that, Shael made her way into the Great Hall, and Jasna sighed softly, the last of her guilt fading away. Hopefully, Fíli and Shael would get on wonderfully. They both deserved a bit of happiness. 

That in mind, Jasna continued on toward the main staircase, sigh of relief bubbling at her lips when she found herself at Thorin’s door. 

Her hear beat faster now as she stared at the plain, almost boring, dark wood. Her blood roared through her ears, pounded through her temples, and her mouth went so dry, it was painful to swallow. Which was all so silly because although they weren’t married yet, it was coming, so there was no danger—aside from embarrassment—should someone happen upon her standing there. 

Her hand trembled as she balled it and rapped lightly on the door. 

“Who goes?”

“Thorin?”

“Come in.”

She could almost hear the smile in his voice and when she turned the handle, it made not a sound, and neither did the door itself when she pushed it open. Her heart slammed against her ribs, but her feet propelled her forward, into his chambers. 

Soft, buttery light glowed from the myriad of candles flickering all around her, bathing the room—and Thorin—warm and gold. His eyes glittered as he smiled and crossed over to her. “I thought perhaps you’d changed your mind.”

“No, of course not. I—I was playing matchmaker, b-believe it or not.”

“Matchmaker?”

She nodded. “I h-h-hope you don’t mind.”

“Why would I?” He eased his arms about her waist. “I mean, unless you were playing matchmaker for yourself.”

“Funny. No,” she slid her arms about his midsection as well, “for Miss Whitbow.”

“What?”

“I thought she and Fíli might hit it off with one another.”

He said nothing at first, and for a moment, she thought perhaps she’d made a mistake, but then he nodded slowly. “She would be perfect for him.”

“I thought so. Now, we just have to h-hope he agrees.”

“We can worry about that come the morning. I’ve sent word to Dale that the future queen will be passing the night here. I’ve assured your mother that you will be safe and sound under my sister’s watchful eye and she need not worry about you at all. Although, I wonder if I should reiterate about her coming to stay here so you can remain here.”

“What?”

“I don’t want to be away from you any more than I absolutely have to be. If it means sharing a roof with my future mother-in-law, who already doesn’t seem to really care for me all that much, I’ll make the sacrifice.”

She smiled up at him. “You would?”

“Absolutely.” He bent toward her, his lips brushing hers as he whispered, “There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you, amrâlimê.”

She melted again him as his lips came softly upon hers. He caught her face between his massive palms, his fingers stretching up into her hair as he angled her just so to deepen his kiss. Long. Slow. Deep. She felt that kiss through to the center of her being. His tongue teased hers, tangled with it to draw back into the welcoming warmth of his mouth and without thinking, she arched her back, pressed her breasts gently into his chest, shivering at the tingle rippling through her from the contact.

His kiss left her lightheaded and drowsy, but that drowsiness fled as he pulled back and with a wicked smile, caught the bottom of her tunic to draw it up and over her head. He let it fall to the sofa in a crumple of dark gray cotton and his eyes visibly darkened as they roamed over her, as he caught the ribbon lacing her half-chemise closed and pulled to draw the bow free. 

The linen skimmed along her like a caress, soft and teasing, and it joined her tunic on the sofa. “Abnâmul,” he growled, cupping her left breast in his gentle palm. 

She bit down on her bottom lip at the soft zing of pleasure that shot through her when his thumb slid lazily about her nipple. Without thinking, she caught her bottom lip between her teeth, her nippled beading into an all-too sensitive nub that he continued to torture so sensually. 

He loomed over her, bending once more to capture her lips even as he continued to roll that nipple between his thumb and forefinger. As he cupped her other breast and did the same. Deep within, she began that slow, delicious melt of desire. She shivered beneath his kiss, beneath his caresses, her head spinning madly, her eyes happy to be closed as fire wound through her. 

Thorin swept a kiss down over her chin, along the front of her neck, into the shadow between her breasts. His hands slid away, to the fastenings of her trousers as he captured one aching nipple between his lips to flay it with the tip of his tongue. Her fingers sank into his hair, twisting as he caught that nipple between his teeth and fluttered the tip of his tongue over it.

“Thorin…” His name was an airy whisper, more steam that substance, and she shivered as he hooked his thumbs and forefingers in the waist of her trousers. The soft linen swept along her skin, his fingertips brushed the backs of her thighs, and to her surprise, he released her breast to kiss his way down along her belly as he sank to his knees before her.

 He looked up at her then and her heart almost stopped at the wonder, at the desire, in his eyes, which had gone sapphire with desire. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice oddly husky, holding her gaze even as he slid one hand down the back of her calf and caught her ankle to lift her foot enough to tug her trousers from it.

Although his chambers weren’t cold, she shivered. “What are you about?”

“I’ve thought about this since the morning I let you out of my bed,” he replied, catching her other ankle now to tug her trousers completely free. 

“Thought about w-w-what?”

His grin grew wicked and seductive. “You will see soon enough, mesmel.”

With that, he leaned close and she sucked in a sharp breath as he nuzzled the coppery curls between her thighs. Then, without warning, his tongue slipped into those curls.

“Oh!” Her gasp rang out as he offered up a slow, sensual stroke, and pleasure unlike anything she’d ever felt before shot through her. Soft and teasing at first, it soon grew sharp and spiky and hot, twisting her insides into the tightest, most delicious knots she’d ever felt. Her knees threatened to go to sponge. Her breath became impossible to catch. Her entire body trembled from the white-hot bliss spiraling through her. Of their own accord, her hips rolled toward him, her fingers tightening in his hair when that only sharpened the pleasure more.

He moved with slow surety, not at all hesitant about stroking, tasting, teasing, swirling, or sucking. Her legs trembled as the slow roll of her climax made its way toward her. It started slow. Slow. Tingly. Delicious.

But then he moved, lifting his head to murmur, “Sit for me…”

She practically dropped onto the sofa and gasped once more as he maneuvered her legs over his shoulders and dove back to meet her. He feasted greedily, not letting up as the spikes grew sharper, as her legs trembled and her body tensed. Her head spun, her fingers tightened and pulled his hair as she arched to meet each utterly wicked, utterly wonderful stroke. 

The wave rose as it sped toward her, the tension winding through her until she thought she’d shatter if he didn't do something to offer her some sort of relief.

But then he did.

The blaze erupted, spilling white-hot pleasure, fiery desire, plaintive need through her entire body. Her core melted. The knots pulled taut, threatening to drive her into madness at any moment.

Then he shattered her.

The eruption was swift and hard, knots bursting as one to make lights dance and flash before her eyes as she bolted to meet him with a hoarse, “Thorin!” and with each delicious pulse between her thighs, she shivered and moaned as her body pulsed beneath his tongue.

The wave receded, leaving her fighting for air, limp and languid against the sofa cushions as he slowed his tongue, then moved to press a kiss into those curls once more. Then into her thigh. Her belly. Her breastbone.

He came up to capture her lips and she savored his kiss, the sultry taste of herself on his lips, on his tongue, as she wrapped herself about him and ground into that already-bulging part of him she so desperately wanted now.

Thorin maneuvered her lengthwise on the sofa, slipped a hand between them, opened his trousers, freed himself and then—

“Jasna!” His voice echoed about them as he found her, slick and hot, and surged deep inside her. His first thrust was silken, her arousal, her release, readied her for him, and they moved together in perfect rhythm. 

She wrapped her arms about his neck, clinging to him as his thrusts grew more powerful, as he growled her name and surged hard, surged deep. She melted around him again as another climax swelled and when he found his pleasure, it triggered hers once more and they came together in a crescendo of mutual bliss, mutual desire, and mutual satisfaction.

He shuddered against her, a low, sensual moan on his lips as his body spilled into hers and she couldn't hold back her airy, “Thorin,” as he finally went still against her, burying his face in the slope of her neck.

“Jasna… amrâlimê… you are not leaving here again. I hope you know that.”

“Here?”

“My bed, my sofa, wherever,” he murmured, still out of breath. “I will not let you leave it again. Quite possibly ever.”

“Thorin.”

He lifted his head and smiled. “What?”

“I cannot stay here forever, you know.”

“Of course you can. No one comes in without an invitation and I won’t let anyone else in.” 

“That isn’t exactly practical, you know.” She tucked a wayward silver-streaked dark curl behind his ear. 

His smile faded and as his expression grew more serious, a hint of unease flickered thorough her. “Thorin, what is it?”

“What is what?”

“You look as if you’ve something on your mind. What troubles you?”

He met her gaze, his eyes far more serious than she’d seen since his early days in the infirmary, when he was so very worried about his nephews. “There are a few matters we need to discuss. Regarding the wedding.”

“Serious matters?”

“Serious enough, yes.”

“Can they wait at least until morning?”

“Jasna, I—”

She smiled, tracing her forefinger along the silvery patch in his beard. “Because we are having such a lovely time and I’d hate to ruin it with unnecessary seriousness if we can possibly avoid it.”

“I understand, but we should—”

“Besides,” she braced her hands on his chest and pushed to urge him onto his back. When he obliged, she eased over him, sweeping her lips up along the side of his neck, smiling at the teasing prickle of his beard scruff against her lips, “there is something I wish to give you as well…”

As she spoke, she swept her lips back down now, along his neck, over his chest, down his belly.

“Jasna…” His voice was little more than a husky whisper as she reached what she sought and bent to close her lips about him. He sucked in a sharp breath, his hands plunging into her hair, his hips bolting up to meet her. “Mesmel, wait… we really need to ta—oooh!”

But then, he pulled away, rather roughly, and growled, “No, Jasna, we—oh, Mahal—we need to talk…” He carefully eased himself out from under her and sat up against the sofa’s arm. “And as nice as that was and as much as I would enjoy it, this cannot wait.”

“Thorin?” Her belly kinked at the seriousness in his voice, in his eyes, and somehow, she just knew she wasn’t going to like what he was about to say. “What is it?”

He didn't respond at first and to her discomfort, instead rose, refastening his trousers and when he turned toward her, Jasna felt as if she might be sick. 

“You look so serious,” she said, trying to ignore the stronger bubbling in her belly. “What is it?”

“Jasna, I just… I don’t know how to even begin with this, actually.”

“Just say it.” Her blood pounded through her temples, roared through her ears, at how his expression changed. Gone were the sleepy, heavy-lidded eyes that spoke of sinful promise. No longer sapphire from passion, his eyes were once more pale blue, but with something that looked very much like regret swirling within them. “Thorin?”

He sank onto the sofa’s arm, his clasped hands tucked between his massive thighs, and what looked like pain filled his blue eyes as he lifted them to her. “I was speaking with Balin yesterday and… I—that is, we—”

Her blood roared through her ears and when she swallowed, they actually popped. “Speaking with Balin? Whatever for?”

He didn't respond at first, but stared down at his huge hands, as if suddenly fascinated by the heavy rings on his middle and ring fingers of both hands. The torchlight from the sconces high on the wall above them danced along his dark hair, glinted off the silver woven through it.

Her stomach actually hurt now. She fished her tunic from the floor and dragged it over her head, then got to her feet. She stepped closer, letting her hands come to rest on his head, her fingers gliding along the soft curls. “Thorin, what it is? Please, tell me. You’re w-w-worrying me.”

He looked up once more. “Ereborian law will not permit me to marry a non-dwarf,” he murmured. “I mean, not if I wish to remain on the throne.”

Those words were like a blow to the gut, driving the air from her body in one thunderous blow. Fortunately, she didn't gasp, nor did she flinch, but at the same time, she did wince. “You sp-sp-spoke to him yesterday?”

No. He did not use her again. Her eyes stung already, although he had confirmed nothing. Was Mama right? Was she a fool to believe him? It certainly began to feel that way. “Thorin?”

“I did, yes.” He spoke slowly, as if trying to gage how furious she might grow. 

She looked away briefly, toward the rumpled and squished sofa cushions that bore the brunt of their desire, their need for one another. Her mind raced with everything that had happened since she’d returned to Erebor as his fiancée.

Or had she, in fact, returned as such?

She swallowed hard despite the sudden dryness in her throat, in the sudden extra heartbeats that left her feeling a bit dizzy as she forced herself to meet his gaze. “I see. And you didn't think I should kn-kn-know this be-be-before now?”

“I’ve been debating with myself whether or not to even tell you and—” he held up a hand as she folded her arms, narrowed her eyes, and opened her mouth—“before you yell at me, know, it isn’t because I was using you again, because that isn’t why. I’ve been going round since he told me.”

“Going round?”

“Trying to decide how to I make the announcement that I will abdicate in favor of Fíli.”

This time, the blow to her gut was even more powerful and she wasn’t at all certain she’d heard him correctly. In fact, she was positive she hadn’t heard him correctly, for no sane man would give up a crown for her. Her knees threatened to betray her, but fortunately, they remained strong, for she’d have probably fallen to the floor otherwise. She stared at him, her jaw going slack, her pulse roaring through her temples as she whispered, “Wait, what?”

“There is no way around the law. My great-grandfather made certain of that. Stepping aside is the only way for this wedding to happen and I am willing to do that.”

“You would g-g-g-give all of this up… all that you’ve w-w-worked for and spilled your blood for and almost gave up your life for, for me?”

“I love you.” He shrugged. “It was a far easier decision than I’d ever thought it would be.”

“Thorin, you cannot be s-s-serious about doing that.”

“Why? It isn’t as if I’ve been in this role my entire life. It’s been but a few months. I was happy in Ered Luin, and we could go there or we could travel elsewhere and decide where we would be happy to live. We can join Master Baggins in the Shire, if you’d like. I care not where we are, Jasna. And I care not about a throne. Or a title or a crown. I have what I want here, with you. I need no more than that. I want no more than that.”

She shook her head slowly. “I would never ask you to do that. I could never ask you to do that.”

“You didn't ask me to do anything. I’ve made this decision myself.”

Her eyes stung as he reached for her, his hands came to rest on her hips, the heat from those large palms sinking into her. Without thinking, she let her hands settle on his broad shoulders, the muscle thick and firm beneath his rough-hewn henley (how was it he was still fully dressed? That didn't seem right at all.) “You cannot do this.”

“Of course I can. I still have that much control over my life.” He rose to stand before her, all broad shoulders and barrel-chest.

Her dwarf.

“But what about your responsibilities to Erebor and its people?”

“They will be fine in Fíli’s hands. He’s matured and has a fine head on his shoulders and thanks to his talented healer, he will soon walk on his own as well.” He curved his hands against her cheeks, tilting her face to his. His eyes were soft, his voice low and growly.  “I do not make this decision lightly, Jasna. I know full well what it means and what will come of it and I am at peace with it. I am happy. For the first time in a lifetime, I’m happy. I’ve lost enough and I will not lose you, too. I will not choose a cold stone throne over you. I’ll not choose anything over you. I love you and I wish to be with you.”

She blinked, fighting to hold her tears at bay. “But what if you come to regret that decision? Or to resent me because I’m the r-r-reason you must make it?”

He shook his head. “I won’t. To either one. Trust me, mesmel.”

“Are you absolutely certain?”

“I am absolutely certain.” He smiled, looking as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. “If you will have a blacksmith instead of a king as your husband, that is.”

“Do you think I would say anything other than y-y-yes? Blacksmith. King. It matters not to me, Thorin. But, only if you are absolutely certain this is what you want.”

He bent to her, capturing her soft lips in a tender, lingering kiss. Then, pulling back just enough to break the kiss, he pressed his forehead to hers and murmured, “I’ve never been more certain of anything before, amrâlimê.”

“Thorin, do you know what you’re giving up?”

“I do, yes. And I also know what I’m getting in return. I will take you over a treasure hoard any day, mesmel.”

“You are mad, you know.”

He grinned. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Thorin.” 

“It would’t be. Ask anyone.”

She gave him a long look. “I am very s-s-serious, you know. You cannot undo this once y-y-y-you’ve done it.”

His smile faded, a look of weariness coming to his eyes as he nodded. “I know, Jasna. Trust me, I do. And I’ve given this more thought than I’ve given just about anything else in my life. I know what I’m doing.”

“So, wh-where do we go from here?”

“I need to speak with Fíli and with Balin and let them know. And then,” a slight smile lifted his lips, “I don’t know, mesmel. We begin a new life elsewhere? Where would you like to go?”

“I—I don’t know,” she said softly, sweeping a long black curl away from his temple. “I’ve never been beyond the Long Lake or here before. I don’t know what else is out there.”

“There’s an entire world, mesmel.” Without warning, he swept her up in his arms. “You need only point on a map and we can go there.”

She swung her feet as he spirited her to his room, to his bed. “Anywhere?”

“Anywhere.” He set her down then moved to ease himself over her, smiling as he settled comfortably between her thighs. “We set up house, and maybe start to work on a family, anything we want.”

“I rather l-l-like how that sounds, dwarf,” she murmured as he came flush against her.

“Somehow,” he whispered back, his lips brushing hers, “I thought you might.”

#Richard Armitage #The Hobbit #Thorin Oakenshield #Hobbit Fic #Hobbit Fanfic #Fan fiction #The Hobbit fan fiction #Thorin x OC #AU #Thorin Fic #Is it hot in here? #Romance #Everybody Lives AU #The Hobbit BOTFA

[honorable-guardian]

!!!!!!!!

AAA I’m so glad someone sent me this… Grim my everything. My confidant… my best friend… my silly rabbit 😏 But for real, where do I even begin with him?

(Long post under the cut!)

He started off as a character I made specifically to be able to RP when I was at my lowest, mentally and energy-wise. He’s grown, as I have, and he changed me, honestly. For the better. 

At his conception he was a gruff, depressed, duty-bound and anxious mess that saw himself as nothing but a burden on all he interacted with. He was also cishet (lol) and my first OC I ever really RP’ed out in the world in WoW rather than with a friend, so I didn’t really know what I was allowed to do, or how to interact with folks, so, neither did he. Autism runs deep, as usual.

His past is… more than troubled, in every way I could think up at the time. When I made him, I made him to suffer, as I had been in my mental health pit for years with no hope of getting out. And I wanted to be able to relate. So I gave him aggressive, pushy parents, a line of failures, and a desolate disposition. And yet, seemingly on his own, he developed this will. This desire to improve, to be better than he was the day before, and to help people. He wanted to be better. So, I did too.

He talks little of his past, save for those who he’s close to and have the courage to ask. His plethora of scars aren’t for show, so to speak. He recalls each one’s origin, the one crossing his eye coming to his memory only in flashes. Only in nightmares, buried in his memory.

As a teen he roamed Darkshore, a ghost of a person shrouded in grief and rage. He was found, eventually, by a special someone that allowed him to call her Maggie. She led him to Moonglade where, after months of much struggle in trying to communicate without being able to form words in his worgenistic mouth, began training there under one Katrena Elswith, a disgraced druidic teacher who was the only one who agreed to be his Shan’do.

All of this happened in backstory however, and much more happened beyond this too. He eventually completed his training and joined the effort in the Tanaan Jungle, intending to meet death there, but managing to find a small glimmer of purpose, instead.

Early on in his RP days, he was asked to join a guild as one of the officers (little did they know he was nineteen. His troubles aged him beyond what others thought), and at a guild function he met someone special: Alythae Wildsong.

Where would he even be without Aly? Their relationship progressed quickly, possibly quicker than he wanted, but it was real. She taught him that he could be loved. That he deserved love. He was more than what he could give others. And he taught her, too. An exchange, entirely coincidental at first, and then fully voluntary. 

They went on adventures after adventures together. Some dangerous, some relaxed, some downright ridiculous. But they worked through them together, hands locked together in a bond as they discovered things about each other, and things about themselves that they did not know. Deception. And blood magic. Oh, the blood magic.

He nearly lost himself to it, during the Fourth War. The blight in Darkshore was destroying his body, despite his attempted protections, and he was nearly killed by it. A necessary evil, he thought. His fur gone, his skin blight-pocced, he delved into it. It felt… natural, for reasons he could not yet explain why. 

And yet, it was consuming him.

Aly brought him back. Cleansed him enough for him to make a recovery. But he found the magic…innate, somehow. He learned why, eventually, but that’s not something he likes to share pretty much ever. Regardless, he and Aly finally  got married in December after several long years of engagement, and now happily live together in Feralas! Along with their many animals, and Grim’s animal scouts, and of course their dog Pippin. 

This has already gone on WAY longer than I intended but this feels just like the tip of the iceberg lol. I know this is cheesy but having Grim, knowing what he’s gone through and still he continues on… it gives me reason to be better, too. If he can go through all that and still be a good person, I can too. Without Aly he wouldn’t be half the character he is today, so thank you so much to @tyranduh you mean so much 2 me.

Here's a few more of my favorite pieces of him <3

Thank you so so much for the ask and for the opportunity to infodump on my favorite guy <3

#grim #about grim #grimhall #my oc #my art #ask meme #answered

[skippyv20]

If not already posted…this is from one of the Canadian papers…Globe and Mail.

OPINION

Spare me: Prince Harry’s claim of victimhood doesn’t quite fly​

PHOEBE MALTZ BOVY

Some – and I’m among them – argue that rather than being a way to promote social justice, so-called wokeness is about maintaining the status quo. A system of rules and manners that might seem progressive is in fact a cover for material inequality.

One could not design a better example of this than Prince Harry, the world’s premier 

nepotism baby

. In his new memoir, Spare, Harry (he abhors snobbery, so let’s drop the “Prince”), bolstered by therapy, offers himself up as a courageous opponent of stiff-upper-lip upscale Britishness. He’s a modern man, in touch with his feelings. And he’s had it with archaic royal protocol, especially the bit about giving the kingdom to the elder son. Fight the power!

What Spare seeks to accomplish is to translate the life experience of a Prince who has spent much of his life carousing – a man whose life makes everyday white male privilege seem paltry – into the story of a victim of systemic forces.

When he partied, this was not a prince cavorting. It was a troubled young man finding solace in the bottle, the Ziploc bag.

Apart from the self-medicating, pre-rift Harry was known for having worn a Nazi uniform to a 2005 costume party. Ordinary people have been cancelled for less. But a royal, even a “spare,” is uncancellable. We learn that Prince Charles summonedthe Chief Rabbi of Britain, who told Harry – 20 at the time – what the Holocaust was.

Harry recounts this episode in his usual feelings-speak. The takeaway is not about mankind’s evil depths, but rather about … his own “self-loathing.” And anyway, how contrite did he need to be, given that, in his telling, William and Kate put him up to it?

Indeed, much of the book covers how Harry feels, temperature-wise, while in the army but also in civilian situations. He’s forever either too warm or too cold. (The latter involves a nauseating anecdote about frostbitten nether regions. Harry’s no 

Gary Shteyngart

, and should have left well enough alone.)

He complains that he finds the dining room at Sandringham House “subtropical,” but that the Queen’s corgis objected to open windows (the draft, you see) so footmen would audibly close them. “That loud thump, unavoidable because the windows were so old, always felt like the door of a jail cell being slammed.”

Royalty, for Harry, has been a prison. It’s involved being hounded by paparazzi, and it made his pre-Meghan romantic life a challenge: women were either put off by the lack of privacy, or a little too excited about becoming a princess. That being a royal has also afforded him endless second chances and unfathomable gobs of money eludes him.

The point is not that Harry hasn’t suffered. To lose your mother at 12 is tragic even if you’re a prince. Where things get murky is in Harry’s interpretation of more recent history. Do the grumblings of a second-born royal hold a place in any broader fight for justice? With the exception of the ones specifically about the British tabloid press’s racism against his wife, it’s hard to make that leap. Yes, he moved to California after falling out with his family. But is he right to say he “fled”?

The power that comes with being Prince Harry is his for life, whatever his official role within the Royal Family. Harry claims his father left him “unemployable.” But he canstill do whatever he feels like (such as get a memoir 

ghostwritten

 by a fine writer), put a giant “Prince Harry” stamp on it and sell it to rapturous audiences.

The narrative at this point weaves from spring 2020 up to fall 2022. COVID – and the world shutting down – goes unmentioned, except as it affects their travel. A reference to Meghan’s 

three-bedroom detached

 property in Toronto as her “little house” offers a subtle reminder of Harry’s perspective. The book is at its strongest when Harry leans into that highly unusual vantage point.

Between the lines, and despite itself, Spare can be a fun, escapist and gossipy read, about a world where homes have 50 bedrooms and young people go on safari with hippos because why not. There’s the thrill of hearing the late Queen Elizabeth referred to as “Granny.” A royal story is worth more than a regular one, a fact that ultimately unites Harry with the tabloid journalists he – understandably – loathes.

On the streetcar home, gripping my copy of Spare, two older women sitting near me discussed the price of cauliflower. Nine dollars. More than these ladies could, uh, spare

Great article!  Thank you❤️

[littlx-songbxrd]

"Fault lines, tremble underneath my glass house

But I put it out of my mind, Long enough to call it courage

To live without a lifeline

I bend the definition of faith, to exonerate my blind eye

'Til the sirens sound, I'm safe" - Earth

Tag list (ask to be added/ removed)

@stxr-thxif   @lifewouldbebetteronmars @thefoxandthefound @genyyasafin @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @eugeniaslongsword @cant-think-of-anything @writeordie-4 @spooky-drusilla @anarmorofwords @fortheloveofthecarstairs

#heard we were all missing alastair but i chose pain #EVERYBODY GO LISTEN TO EARTH BY SLEEPING AT LAST AND THINK ABOUT HOW ALASTAIR WAS FORCED TO TAKE OVER HEAD OF HIS FAMILY #AT 10 YEARS OLD #HOW HE WAS MADE TO SUFFER ENOUGH TO LEARN TO CALL THAT COURAGE #Because i think about sona having to tell alastair his fathers a drunk at lil 10 years and it breaks me #i want y'all to suffer so listen to earth pls its by sleeping at last as always im begging y'all #i promise ill edit happy alastair later #ALSO SINCE NO ONES GONNA NOTICE THE TEXTURE OF THE EDIT IS BASED ON EARTHQUAKE WAVES #jaja get it?? shattered?? #ill stop #tlh #tsc #chain of gold #chain of iron #the last hours #cassandra clare #alastair carstairs

[sarahscribbles]

LOKI MASTERLIST

[Last updated: April 2024]

Requests are: OPEN

Latest updates: Lace and Beads

Favourite Fics

Spam likers will be blocked

Kinktober Masterlists

12 Days of Christmas Masterlist

The Sakaar Files Masterlist.

Black Suit Drabbles Masterlist

Other Masterlists

☆ Signifies 1k notes and up

✧ Moments of Magic ☆ 

Summary: You bring Loki two gifts to mark his birthday. One a magical object and the other your heart

✧ 14 Hours to Cape Town (18+)☆ 

Summary: When the rest of the Avengers are sent on a mission to Cape Town, you're forced to stay behind to recover from a previous mission while Loki isn't trusted enough to go along. How will you cope with being made to stay in the compound with the man you're in love with when he seemingly wants nothing to do with you?

✧ Warming Him (18+) ☆ 

Summary: Loki makes you warm him

✧ Stay Here One More Time

Summary: On the anniversary of the Battle of New York, Loki discovers he has someone on his side

✧ Don't Go Tonight

Summary: While on a mission fighting against HYDRA you do the one thing you’re not supposed to do and get distracted. The price you pay is a high one.

✧ Do I Haunt Your Mind? ☆

Summary: You finally work up the courage to confess your feelings to Loki, but it goes badly wrong

✧ Little Green Dress (18+)

Summary: You try, and spectacularly fail, to tease the god of mischief.

✧ I Want To Make You Feel Wanted (18+)

Summary: On a mission you get the opportunity to kill the HYDRA agent responsible for torturing you, but, misreading the situation, Loki kills him before you get the chance. And now you want to kill him

✧ "My Pet." (18+)

Summary: Tony’s Christmas party gets a little steamier than you had imagined

✧ Tiny Blessings

Summary: Growing up within the royal palace of Asgard, you learned magic alongside Loki and his mother Frigga. After Frigga's death, you find a way into the dungeons to comfort her broken son

✧ Paper Trail

Summary: Loki organises a romantic treasure hunt for you

✧ Back In Your Arms

Summary: Loki arrives back at the compound, and back in your arms, after the battle with Thanos

✧ Illicit Affairs (18+)

Summary: A marriage built on nothing but childhood infatuation was always bound to fall apart. The love you once thought you had for Thor has dwindled to nothing but indifference. He doesn't know the things you crave and makes no effort to find out, so you turn to the one person who will fulfill all your filthy desires: his brother.

✧ One More Week (18+)

Summary: When Loki makes a request of you in bed, how can you possibly deny him?

✧ Burned (18+)

Prompts: “Do I look like I’m messing around? Do I look like I won’t punish you?” ||"Fucking is a reward, but you haven’t been good.” || "Be a good girl

✧ In The Quiet Of The Morning (18+)

Prompt: Soft morning sex with Loki

✧ For All To See (18+)

Summary: You, Loki, and a floor-to-ceiling window. What of it?

✧ Between His Thighs (18+)

Summary: Loki makes you warm him. Again.

✧ Emerald Lace (18+) ☆ 

Summary: Your first time wearing lingerie for Loki has you nervous, but your god is quick to show you how much he adores you.

✧ Underneath The Willow Tree (18+)

Summary: A spring afternoon in the gardens with your husband is just another occasion for debauchery in his eyes

✧ Victory Prize (18+)

Summary: Loki arrives home from a mission eager to celebrate its success

✧ Atonement (18+)

Summary: Loki disobeyed you and touched himself without permission. Now, he must suffer the consequences

✧ To Those Who Wait (18+)

Summary: Loki has denied you for one whole week, but just when the week is up, he's asked to accompany Thor and Nat on a mission. Frustration follows

✧ Teasing the Dragon (18+)

Summary: What could go wrong when you tease Loki about his stamina?

✧ Even Gods Get Sick

Summary: You care for your love when he gets a sudden summer cold

✧ Call You Mine (18+)

Summary: It's your third anniversary with the love of your life, and Tony has given you a very thoughtful gift

✧ For The First Time (18+)

Summary: It's been a long build up, but you finally sleep with Loki for the first time

TWO PARTERS

✧ When You Play With Fire (18+)

Summary: When Loki doesn’t accompany you to Scott’s birthday celebration, you think you have the upper hand by leaving him to stew in his own desire. You should have known better than to play with fire.

PART ONE

PART TWO

✧ Dancing With The Devil (18+)

Summary: You’ve burned for him for centuries, but you know he sees you as nothing more than a prize to claim. Still, you play his game of teasing and innuendo, but never give in to how badly you crave him. That is until an innocent smell of a flower on Midsummer leaves you with no other choice.

PART ONE

PART TWO

✧ On The Throne (18+)

Summary: Yet again Loki has allowed a security council meeting to run late. You decide that, this time, you’ll go and help hurry it alone

PART ONE

PART TWO

DRABBLES

✧ Don't Move, Darling (18+)

Prompt: "Move an inch and you won't be coming tonight."

✧ Purple And Red (18+)

Prompt: "I won't apologise for marking you up, everyone should know you're taken."

✧ Against The Glass (18+)

Prompt: "I want everyone to see how good you take it."

✧ Make You Sing (18+)

✧ Eyes Open (18+)

Prompt: "Keep your eyes open."

✧ Consequences (18+)

Summary: Loki gave you one simple order when leaving the palace and now you have to face the consequences of failing to follow it

✧ Worship You (18+)

Summary: Yours is the only altar Loki will ever worship at

✧ The Black Suit (18+)

Summary: Loki's black suits makes you late for a party

✧ I Love You

Summary: Loki tells you he loves you for the first time

✧ Yours (18+)

Summary: Loki discovers how much you love when he leaves his mark on you

✧ A Welcome Distraction (18+)

Summary: Loki can't keep his hands off you while you're supposed to be working

✧ Little Noises (18+)

Summary: You try something new to get Loki off

✧ Adore You (18+)

Summary: While worshipping Loki, you discover something new about your lovers likes

✧ Good Boy (18+)

Summary: Loki loves to be praised

BLURBS

✧ Loki with an overstimulation kink

✧ How would Loki love us?

✧ Loki praising us

✧ President Loki

✧ Sub!Loki

✧ "You'll take what I give you."

✧ Waking up next to Loki

✧ Library drabble

✧ Holding Him

✧ Aftercare

#loki #loki smut #loki x reader

[kestrel-of-herran]

twenty five twenty one: my favourite lines from ep.13

while we leave baekdo to make out in the snow, i’m coming to you with an attempt to analyze all the lines that made me fangirl in this episode. is my brain as melted as the snowflakes between hee do and yi jin’s lips? absolutely; so this post should be extremely fun.

“is this kind of love unacceptable?”: right from the start, hee do delivers this gut-puncher with her signature honestly and emotional intelligence. i love how this line continues the earlier discussion of what baekdo’s relationship means to both of them, and encapsulates hee do’s current feeling of having done something to overstep, of being too much or not enough.

min chae’s physical presence in the past narrative is breathtaking enough to deserve a place in this post about words. the level of theatrical staging, dramatic irony of the future towards the past, brain-tingling uncanniness, and simple comedy raised the bar for art in any form.

“kiss”: this tiny word-playing scene does a brilliant job of showing hee do’s state of mind, and parallels yi jin’s visually shown reliving of the kiss. while the translations of their feelings are seemingly opposite (words vs image; external expression vs internal disguise), they are of one mind throughout the episode.

“this is my love”: weaving this line as a narrative thread throughout the episode, the show lets hee do process all her complex feelings and still choose to fight for the relationship. while yi jin buries his feelings with the notion that they would lead to disaster, hee do’s open expression of her suffering is her signal that disaster is already happening, and yi jin is the only one who can stop it.

“damn you, alcohol!”: it’s only right that yi jin’s drunken confession reaches jiwoong first, allowing the narrative to bring him to the same level of suffering that he’s causing hee do. his level of dramatics during the drunken confession, down to his phrasing (“and yet, i waver” okay sir may i direct you to a jane austen adaptation casting), is a perfect expression of his character. as we’ve seen from episode four, alcohol makes yi jin honest, and that’s something he knows well enough to try to avoid hee do even more urgently in the second scene where she waits in front of his house.

“liking someone means i can learn about myself”: i want this line framed and exhibited in the louvre because it’s so accurate and still somehow felt like it’s never been acknowledged before. hee do continues to blow me away with how well she understands and represents real aspects of being in love, and the line can be interpreted in both a psychological and physical way, which makes it all the stronger.

“is it because you understand me that you love me?” vs “i don’t understand you. i simply accept you.”: hee do is again hitting the nail on the head with her questions, and you can tell how much courage it takes for her to state the fact of him loving her. there is uncertainty there, informed by yi jin’s current behaviour towards her, but there is also the power to return yi jin’s hidden emotion to the surface by calling it by its name. yi jin’s response is both beautiful, with its meaning that he doesn’t have to get or relate to every facet of hee do’s self to appreciate it, and a reflection of the present situation, where he doesn’t understand why she keeps turning up at his door but accepts her presence as the strange wonder it is.

“i’ll either get it all or lose it all”: once again a brilliant summary of how it feels to take the next step towards the other without knowing if they’re there to catch you. all through this episode, hee do is in free fall, but she keeps her eyes open the entire time, and trusts that she knows who she is falling towards. it’s yi jin who thinks he’s strong enough to stop gravity, and it’s her who proves him wrong.

“you wrote this, didn’t you?”: the fact that hee do knows him well enough to immediately recognize his hand at work speaks volumes, just like his expression when he was looking at her respond to a bully, freak out over stickers, and replay the fencing match to spot her mistakes. there’s something so intimate about this scene, because he sees her as she is when there is no one to be for but herself, and loves her in her wisdom, her joy, and her tenacity.

“we were capable of anything”: including making me cry because it’s such an apt summary of how much their relationship has endured and how far it has come

“i can’t lose it”: what a beautiful way to weave the recurring question of what kind of love they both feel together with hee do’s gambling metaphor before wrapping up both. hee do spends the entire episode losing, but each loss comes after the gamble of a kiss, a confession, a question, a confrontation, an action; and each loss becomes a step towards the tower of self-doubt where yi jin tried to imprison his feelings. like a hero from a fairy tale, hee do had to try to win her true love’s heart three times, each time turning up at the foot of the tower where he lives, and being stopped by a blue wall of thorns. using her words as a weapon of honesty and persuasion, on the third time, she wins.

#twenty five twenty one #2521 #brain is still melted btw