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kneelingshadowsalome · 1 month

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Am obsessed with the double trouble au with 2 readers and 2 königs <3 <3 It got me thinking, how do you think younger reader would interact with recruit könig? I feel like she'd honestly be terrified of him at first; he'd seem borderline psychotic (because he's practically drooling over her, always lingering around her and she might not be used to that kind of attention) but she might grow into liking him more once she discovers that she's into his annoying (maybe cocky?) antics.

CW: dubcon groping, dubcon kissing, dubcon everything

Hell yes she’s terrified.

This guy stalks her on social media, gropes her thigh under the table when they're out to eat, tries to move himself on top of her in the car when he leans to kiss her good night. Tells her the sweetest things before plunging his tongue in her mouth, one time he even flattens the passenger seat from under her so that she’s basically trapped.

Luckily he stops when she puts her hands over his chest and pushes him away: the drooly makeout session was getting out of hand, she sort of likes this crazy guy but she doesn’t want their first time to be in a car. Even if the said car is a nice black Hummer :(

He laughs when she escapes the vehicle – his little heartthrob is playing hard to get and it only makes König spiral further in love. He has an odd way of showing it though: sends her breathy voice messages in the middle of the night, so creepy, and one time she even hears a soft, slick sound in the background – is he fapping over there??

Young recruit König could be mistaken for a sadist but he really is just trying to make reader feel appreciated. Like… 24/7 appreciated… Fucked raw appreciated… Crying tears from overstimulation appreciated…

To König, love is not love if your partner isn’t shaking all over after you’re done with them and so the sex is bound to be a bit intimidating too, especially if reader is not that experienced. Poor young thing will be in constant fight or flight mode with him, and because König does the fighting, what else is left for her but to run? He always catches her though, and it takes months before she understands he’s not going to actually *hurt* her. Besides, König only enjoys her tears if they’re born from multiple orgasms.

If she’s crying because she’s scared, recruit König will become confused and oddly caring. So caring that she has to fawn or fake dead next because even this young man’s attempts to be nurturing feel like suffocation…

He asks, what’s wrong, did he hurt you, Liebe? There’s no need to be scared, little mitten. Shit, was he playing too rough…? Ah, you poor thing. Here, let him kiss it better…

…And before you know it, you’re squirming again, trying to get away from his mouth because there’s too much stimulation. König won’t let you go, hell no, you sound too cute when you’re squirming. Are you even trying to wriggle away or against him?

Then there comes the beautiful day when König is so tired from work he can’t even bother to chase her around the house and she’s like...

Do you even love me anymore?!

#wonder what colonel König and our other reader are doing in the meantime #just mowing the lawn outside? tending the garden and letting kids play? lol #maybe they don’t live in a commune but still! it would be fun <3 #double trouble au #I have to confess some of young recruit bled into stalker!König #they’re both such feral dogs ^^

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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 1 year

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This is the start of something new

[First] Prev <–-> Next

#Poorly Drawn MDZS #MDZS #wei wuxian #lan wangji #season 1 #*I never knew that it could happen till it happened to me*#Listen there were so many good scenes I wanted to draw and maybe one day I will but dang #sometimes when there are too many good moments to draw in a summary comic you have to abridge them into something that gets the vibes #The teen boy shenanigans that wwx drags lwj into are fine and good and *funny*#but they are also 15 and 15 year olds will say whatever comes to mind whether its well formulated or not #Less of a gay awakening and more of a moment of realizing that theres a door labeled 'homosexual thoughts' in the back of the house #and someone just threw a baseball into the window of it #poor lwj for he now spends the rest of his teen and young adult years haunted by this moment #only to cultivate it into a garden in which he will one day marry this man #Live your life in a way that would make teen you implode -> my daily advice column wisdom #Side note: this comic is vertical because I...ran out of space on my page. I have been meaning to experiment though #might continue like this? Maybe...

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robinmage · 18 days

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i know a lot of people are trying to put ivan and till's relationship and feelings into a clearer perspective but i think yall r forgetting that like. they were put into anact garden as children. their whole lives theyve only known other children and alien overlords. theyve probably never had an adult human to look up to. its only natural that the relationships they have with each other exceed the titles and definitions we're used to, because the conditions of their lives are fundamentally different than ours.

#we dont actually know how long its been since earth was invaded either #i personally think most of them are the product of some kind of human breeding program. tagged with their names on their body like livestoc #i have no proof of course but how else would they be owning and selling children from such a young age #unless the names are a brand of anact garden itself and not just being a human born in alien captivity #that might make more sense actually i dont think they had them in mizisua #alnst #alien stage

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grumpyghostdoodles · 3 months

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The Almighty Sheriff!

Save a horse, ride a cowboy~

#respecfully sir: AWOOGA arf arf bark AWOOGA #If this gets 30 notes I'll take his shirt off for yall lol #with his top surgery scars Of course #Ive seen that's a super popular HC for him and I think thats great! Good for him!#Farm boi #no fr working in a farm makes you develop muscles that you didnt even know you had #having flashbacks from highschool when they made us work in the garden for two hours under the scorching afternoon sun #I went to a highschool that was all Ooo we are green thumbs and we shall teach the young ones how to plant and harvest their own food #and my god that shit was so physically demanding mate #i didnt had my diagnosis on how horribly mangled my body was So I had to work in the farm thing like all the others and try not to pass out #even the jocks that were fit and always running and playing football during all the recesses were dead quiet after working outside #and all that those classes did for me was to create a hatred for working in any type of gardening activity so they failed spectaculary lol #SO ANYWAYS my point is Starlo can defo deadlift bags of 70kg\150lbs with one arm without breaking a sweat #undertale yellow #uty #Starlo #Starlo uty #north star uty #myart

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fuckalicent · 8 months

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thinking about how rhaenys and corlys presenting laena for viserys to marry served only to soothe viserys’ conscience and convince him that marrying alicent was somehow morally passable. it allowed him to convince himself he was doing the better thing by marrying alicent. also thinking about how when he mentioned to alicent that his council wanted him to marry laena, he watched the hope flitting across her features, watched the relief in her posture thinking she was free, thinking she’d escaped his clutches. only for him to announce at the council meeting after that he wants to marry her, that he will marry her. the way she fiddles with her fingers while shaking her head almost imperceptibly at rhaenyra, trying to convince her that she did not want this, despite how it may seem. her having to bear almost everyone in that room’s distaste at viserys’ selfish decision.

#hotd #alicent hightower #anti viserys i targaryen #i feel sick every time i rewatch that sequence #it’s structured the same way as viserys’ conscience i think #he sees laena and walks with her in the gardens and by then he is already considering marrying alicent #seeing how young she is only solidifies this idea - no matter how unsettling because he can tell himself that he at least didn’t marry the #11 year old and chose the 14 year old #instead #it’s crazy also when u remember how laena said ‘mother told me i would not have to bed u until i was 14’ and the next scene is viserys and #alicent - who is 14!!!!!!!!#correction: laena is 12

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lotuso3o · 16 days

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#had a whole ass child together but were never official👍#also not gonna give him a young adult makeover just yet just to show how young he is having a kid yk #ts4 #sims 4 #ts4 screenshots #sims 4 screenshots #ts4 gameplay #sims 4 gameplay #ts4 simblr #sims 4 simblr #simblr #secret garden challenge #secret garden #secret garden┊gen 4

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lizzieraindrops · 1 year

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Destiny is a story about shapes and grief.

I think I may have figured out Destiny. I don't think the primary conflict between the Light and the Darkness is the philosophical issue we thought it was.

I got thinking about it after all this talking, with many others but especially @jazzhandsmcleg, about the way all of The Witch Queen DLC and its 4 seasons have had overarching narratives surrounding trauma and cycles of violence and grief, and the way the Darkness and the Light are characterized by their different approaches to it.

In TWQ, Savathûn is given a true second chance for her species in the Light. But as Ikora points out, she struggles to break free of the learned patterns of the Darkness, continuing the pattern of deception and violence.

Same with Season of the Risen - it’s the Warlords and Dark Ages all over again, but this time it’s the Hive. It forces once again to ask: what does it mean to be given a second chance if this is what you do with it? Temper this with Saladin’s story about the girl from the Dark Ages who he protected, but who became a cruel mortal Warlord in her own right. Crow objects to the mental torture of the Hive Lightbearers and he tries to break from the cycle of interspecies violence, but unintentionally ends up continuing it by killing the Psion and heightening tensions between humans and the Uluran.

Season of the Haunted!!! Literally, the entire thing is about confronting your traumas and greatest fears and the worst parts about yourself and beginning to heal them, making something better from them. Completely changing the game by turning Nightmares that torment into Memories that guide you. Crow with the memory of Uldren, Zavala with that of Safiyah, Caiatl that of Ghaul - and most importantly, resolution focuses on how they, specifically have been held back from healing by their self-incriminating Nightmares. It challenges the cycle of continuing violence on a very personal level. Eris even has patrol dialogue describing the a Nightmare as a thing of pain craving only more pain: "Such is the cycle."

Season of Plunder brings up the very same questions on a much higher organizational level. It gives us Eido and Eramis taking very different jaded vs. new-hope approaches to the legacy of the Whirlwind, asking: can we change? Are we defined by generational trauma forever? Can we continue to grow and change for the better even though it can never be undone? Though Eido is clearly young and naïve, we're clearly given the opportunity and narrative nudge to sympathize with her desire and hope for growth and redemption, both for the Eliksni overall, and for Eramis in particular.

And we're not even done with Season of the Seraph, but it already goes incredibly hard asking the same questions, again from a more personal angle. How far, and through how many generations is trauma transmitted? From the Bray family to Rasputin, to Felwinter to Osiris to Ikora – how do we fix this? How do we fix this? How do you defeat an enemy who IS war itself? What can you do to end an endless cosmic cycle of violence?

Go back and back and back in Destiny's lore even back to D1, and the majority of conflicts seem driven by this cycle of grief and revenge and violence. The entire line of humanity's war with the Hive goes back through Oryx's grief for Crota and the First Crota Fireteam and Eriana-3's grief for her wife Wei Ning. Even the Hive siblings' pact with the Worm Gods, though manipulated by Rhulk, was driven by the pain and grief they endured for themselves and their people, and wanting to escape that cruel pattern. The entire predicament of the Eliksni and their conflict with humans is driven by the trauma and grief and loss of the Whirlwind. Even Caiatl's empire, a conquering force that would be highly regarded by the sword logic, now must reckon with the same kind of loss in the Fall of Torobatl.

How do you escape this cycle and stay free of it?

I think, this year, we are finally seeing the beginnings of an answer.

I can't highly enough recommend the TWQ Collector's Edition lorebook (page scans & transcript) and The Hidden Dossier (page scans & transcript) that immediately follows it. What I've been calling Ikora's theory of "memory and grace" that she develops through the course of these two lore books is a balanced philosophy of memory/Darkness and grace/Light (which honestly deserves an entire post of its own). I think it clearly points toward the final resolution the story of the conflict between the Darkness and the Light.

In light of this, something in the Calus part of the new Lightfall CE lorebook (images, transcript) really jumped out at me.

“The doomed and the damned left the record of their downfall in the OXA. Your star got its name from the oldest myths in that archive. And when your mother told your father that story…the star became your name. A prayer that all will go as it must…and the way it must go is struggle.” “Aiat.” Not a word in Ulurant or any other Cabal tongue. “But Caiatl means something else..” “Yes. ‘It may not always go as it needs to go.’ A good name for a soldier." "A strange name for a daughter," I say. "Your father chose it for your mother's sake. Out of love."

And because the parallel is so overwhelmingly striking, I am once again going to reference philosophy/worldbuilding from the Young Wizards universe, which has great resonance with Destiny lore and which Bungie has been long aware of and has even been referenced in Forsaken-era canon lore.

“all the fair things skewed, all the beauty twisted by the dark Lone Power watching on his steed. If only there were some way he could be otherwise if he wanted to! For here was his name, a long splendid flow of syllables in the Speech, wild and courageous in its own way—and it said that he had not always been so hostile; that he got tired sometimes of being wicked, but his pride and his fear of being ridiculed would never let him stop. Never, forever, said the symbol at the very end of his name, the closed circle that binds spells into an unbreakable cycle and indicates lives bound the same way.” [...] “Nita bent quickly over the Book and, with the pen, in lines of light, drew from that final circle an arrow pointing upward, the way out, the symbol that said change could happen—if, only if—and together they finished the Starsnuffer’s name in the Speech, said the new last syllable, made it real.” Excerpt From: Diane Duane. “So You Want to Be a Wizard, New Millennium Edition.”

CAIATL’S NAME IS LITERALLY THE UP-AND-OUT SYMBOL.

I know I'm probably only talking to the handful of Destiny players from the (very small) Young Wizards fandom, but what you need to know is that this moment is pivotal and sets up the series-long theme of hope for an eventual exit from the cycle. It's the incredibly small, overwhelmingly improbable possibility of a second chance, a new start for the Lone Power, the source of all strife and suffering, who itself is driven by loss and pain. A concept of extended grace that is inherently tied to the philosophy of the Light.

“Billions of years, it took. All the redemptions there have ever been went toward this; from the greatest to the least. And finally in the fullness of time you came along, and took my role, of your own will, and woke up a race powerful enough to change the whole Universe, and gave them the fire.” She glanced up at the mobiles and smiled. “How could he resist such a bait? He took the gamble: he always does. And losing, he won.” [...] “The Defender reached down and put a hand into the shadow. “And we are going where such matters are transcended… where all his old pains will shift. Not forgotten, but transformed. Life in this universe will never have such a friend. And as for His inventions… look closely at Death, and see what it can become.” The long, prone darkness began to burn, from inside, the way a mountain seems to do with sunset. “Brother,” the Defender said. “Come on. They’re waiting.” Excerpt From: Diane Duane. “High Wizardry New Millennium Edition.”

This is the devil’s second chance, its homecoming. Grace among the memory. How do we heal this? By fixing it. By making and TAKING that opportunity of grace.

Likewise, Destiny is shaping up into its own universe’s story of this Reconfiguration, the remaking of everything that exists through the act of a second chance, both offered and taken, with full awareness of the irreversibility of harm already caused.

Destiny isn’t the story of the light and the darkness fighting each other. That happens, but that’s not what it’s ABOUT.

It’s “And I know exactly what we are. We’re best frenemies with a history of intense mutual hurt and messy reconciliation, leaving a deep tenderness as well as an almost impenetrable knot of scars. What could be simpler?” (Chalco)

It's “For so long, I believed peace was beyond my reach. No more. I have found it in guiding others down the same path that saved me. But… I might allow myself to want more than peace. What, I am not certain. Is joy the word? Might I find that again?” (Eris)

It's “Second chances… hm. Turns out I've been using mine wrong. I thought being a Guardian was my destiny. That wielding the Light for good was the most I had to offer. But it's clear now. This is what the Traveler chose me for. I was reforged in the Light for a purpose. To remake something dead and gone… into something beautiful. To learn how to forge something new from what we were. Everything Uldren did to the Reef, the Scorn… Fikrul. I have a responsibility — no — a calling to make them whole. And… I can't replace Cayde. But I can cover his old patrols — maybe organize the Hunters a bit, if they'll let me. Clean up some of my mess. I don't know if I can fix everything Uldren left broken… but I can try.” (Crow)

We aren’t defeating the Darkness. That’s never what it’s been about. It’s about breaking the cycle of trauma and grief with memory and grace. We're transcending the Final Shape, but we're not here to destroy it or become it. We’re harmonizing the Darkness and the Light into a sustainable balance to create something new from the wounded remains.

We're here to heal the broken relationship between the Winnower and the Gardener.

That's all that it is, in the end. They had a falling out, and now they hurt, and they hurt each other, and everything else, forever. Breaking free from that cycle begins and ends with them.

Is that fair? No, it's not.

But Destiny is – unhingedly, brilliantly, paradoxically – a FPS game about how to stop killing each other, growing ever more into a framework of restorative and reparative justice.

The story says, we are all culpable, we have all done awful shit and have endless potential to do more awful shit – AND, most critically, we all have the potential to do better (grace). AND, the act of making the conscious choice to do so and letting that happen is the only way for things to get better (memory).

The Collapse happened and it was horrible, the Red War happened and it was horrible, the Great Disaster happened and it was horrible, Twilight Gap happened and it was horrible...AND?? HOW ARE YOU GOING TO RESPOND? The Whirlwind happened and it was horrible! The Fall of Torobatl happened and it was horrible! Your species' Choice was stolen and you became the most prolifically violent killers in the universe and it was and is horrible! WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT?

Are you going to make it more horrible? Or are you going to make it BETTER????

Are you going to fight for the Final Shape, or for the gentle kingdom ringed in spears?

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groenendaelfic · 1 month

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Faroe Gone Final Chapter Sneak Peak

So there's still lots of editing I need to do before I can post the whole thing, but with tomorrow looming I thought I'd share something "happy" and "cheerful" to distract y'all.

Have fun reading the beginning of the final chapter and hope you enjoy! 😇

Simon doesn't know if it's the sudden fog, his tears, or the fact that all he wants to do is be a fool and turn back around again—the first one, definitely the first one—but he drives back to Tórshavn at almost a snail's pace.

It doesn't matter. He has well over a day until the ferry makes its return journey to Denmark and nothing else to do except go over his time with Wilhelm again and again, replaying the good times and the pleasurable times and wondering if he could have said or done anything to change the outcome of his journey—other than realizing that all of his feelings were mere nostalgic illusion and fantasy, which of course turned out to not be the case.

Quite the opposite. Real Wilhelm was so much more than what Simon made him out to be in his head. There's so much he's missed. So much he doesn't know yet and which he desperately wants to find out.

It hurts, and yet there's nothing else Simon can do, no other choice which wouldn't hurt more sooner or later.

No. Simon tried. He did the best he could and that is enough. It has to be enough.

Simon had to leave while he still could.

The road ahead of him is empty, no one else in sight. No people, no cars, no sheep. Nothing except the wet, cold fog swallowing up everything and a rushing noise in his ears which might be the wind or the ocean or Simon himself.

Simon blinks away another tear and keeps driving, turning up the heat and hoping it will help.

It doesn't.

On the next island he passes a camper van. It's parked, and Simon thinks he can make out a brave tourist trying to take a picture, but he isn't sure. It's not as if there's much to see except an endless wall of grayish white.

Maybe that's the fascination.

Wilhelm told him that there are thirty-seven words for fog in the Faroese language, and while Simon laughed and told him to stop kidding, he's sure he's already experienced half of them, and it's only been two days.

Okay, that might be an exaggeration, but contemplating the uselessness of taking pictures of fog is a lot more bearable than lingering on the fact that he'll never get to be with Wilhelm again, never feel that satisfied ache in his muscles, not like this, and really how long can a grown man cry before he's all out of tears?

Pretty long he guesses.

Simon once stopped Ayub's baby daughter from attempting a daring escape on all fours, and Simon swears she was crying forever. Not that he blames her.

Crying is cathartic if it's anything, but if she could produce that many tears because of nothing more than a foiled plan to explore the stairway, then how many will Simon be able to shed before he's all wrung out? He’s a lot taller than her after all and guaranteed to not forget the reason for his tears even after being presented with some candy.

Simon doesn't want to know.

Simon wants to keep driving through this fog forever, because all that's waiting for him at its end is the mundanity of his never-changing life and a scandal revealing the Crown Prince to have been the victim of underage revenge porn thanks to his second cousin and presumed successor, and that is guaranteed to make it worse, to drag Simon’s name back into public awareness.

He should probably call home and warn his mom, warn Sara, but facing them will be torture of an entirely different kind, and also the investigative journalist they chose is a good one, one bound to build a case and not blindly believe her sources before going public, so there is still time.

Not too much though, as there is an impending deadline if the Royal Court and the Prime Minister are to be believed, or at least Simon would really prefer news of August’s deeds to overshadow him being taken into the line of succession.

Not that he’s so naive as to think a mere article can do more than delay the proceedings at best—although one can always hope—and ideally the journalist and whoever else gets a say in choosing the right time will see it the same way, but all of that is still more than half a week away, so why burden his family before he absolutely has to?

No, he's not going to call home yet, but maybe he should reserve a room before he gets back to the capital.

He decides to do it the old fashioned way and pulls over at the next opportunity. A viewpoint, or so he presumes the sign a few meters away from him would tell him if only it was clear enough to see.

He wipes at his cheeks and opens his phone. There are plenty of options for him to stay at. Small, privately owned places, holiday homes with kitchens and living rooms, quaint little hotels doing their best to sell their Nordic, rustic charm to tourists wealthy enough to make it there, and of course a camping ground, because unlike Sweden, the Faroe Islands don't allow one to set up camp anywhere else.

Simon doesn't choose any of them. He wants a warm but bland room, boring and inoffensive and as likely to be in Tórshavn as on the other side of the world.

Something as far from Wilhelm's colorful and most definitely handmade and expensive wooden furniture as he can get, and so he books himself a room at the first—and only—international hotel chain he can find, something he'd never do otherwise, and pretends that he's looking forward to it. The hotel has a fitness center after all and well over a hundred rooms. Simon is almost going to feel like back home in Uppsala.

Not.

He sighs and makes sure he received a confirmation for his booking, before he throws his phone onto the passenger seat and sighs again.

Somehow, magically, or rather because he's on a windy archipelago in the middle of nowhere, the fog is starting to clear. He can see a few meters of grass now, and then a cliff, and below it the cold, dark ocean pretending at being calm.

Simon wants the fog back, but when has he ever gotten what he wanted, and by the time he's back on the road he swears he can see a tiny patch of blue sky up ahead.

The hotel is on the outskirts of town and exactly as impersonal as Simon hoped it would be. He isn't hungry, and so he goes straight to his room and falls face first into bed.

The sheets are white and the pillows are white and they smell bland and clean and inoffensive, nothing at all like Wilhelm, and why would they?

Simon hates them. Simon also hates the hotel, but it's not as if he's in the mood for sightseeing, and as he isn't willing to take a shower yet—what? He's alone, no one's going to smell him, and isn't that the entire problem?—all that's left to do is turn on the TV, because he's for sure not touching his phone again any time soon.

Not when that would mean having it confirmed with every passing minute that he was a fool to leave Wilhelm his number. Wilhelm isn't going to call, but Simon would rather live in denial for as long as he can.

The TV does not greet him with an info screen as Simon expected, but an English speaking news channel, the volume turned up way too loudly, and Simon turns it off again as fast as he can.

Wallowing in self pity it is then.

Unfortunately Simon's usual answer to bouts of self-pity—angrily jerking off to thoughts of Wilhelm—is not an option right now, because Wilhelm is the entire reason for his misery, and so he grudgingly reaches for his phone after all and starts up a game which would work much better on a computer screen.

He's just about to finish off the newest boss, when a text message pops up.

If I do it, it reads. Then can we

The sentence stops halfway through, and Simon almost has a heart attack.

The delay in his reaction is enough for him to be killed instead, but it's not as if Simon notices.

Wilhelm. It has to be Wilhelm.

He taps the message, and while that makes it larger, it doesn't change the words.

He almost calls Wilhelm back right away, because Wilhelm is swaying, is reconsidering, and Simon wants that, he wants it so bad, to have Wilhelm back in his arms and his life, but also Simon already told Wilhelm that he can't be the only reason Wilhelm returns, that this is a life changing decision if there was ever any, and that Wilhelm needs to make it for himself and not for a hope of them maybe working out, and so he doesn't.

Instead he waits an excruciating minute and then another, just in case Wilhelm wants to add something or pressed send too soon, but no further message follows.

Simon curses and swears and kicks up his feet, because now he has hope again and that is great, but also torture. He doesn't want Wilhelm to get the wrong impression, doesn't want him to think that Simon wouldn't be willing to pick right up where they left off if he could—in the bedroom that is, not when it comes to fighting—and maybe they could also go on a date which has been nineteen years in coming.

Simon wants that. Simon really wants that. How can he not, now that he's had a taste, has spent time with Wilhelm, just Wilhelm, has had breakfast with him and done chores with him and played with his dog. Simon wants Wilhelm back, now more so than ever.

Simon knows he's an idiot, thinking of romance and dating when he just left the love of his life behind, and even if he hadn't, a returning Wilhelm would have much different things on his mind. He'd have to. He'd have no other choice. Things like his dying mother and the throne and the public reacting to his return after ten years in exile.

Wilhelm wouldn't have time for Simon, no matter how much Wilhelm would want him. Not for weeks and not for months. Simon would have to sneak into an assortment of palaces with the eyes of the entire nation on nothing but them if he wanted any time with Wilhelm at all, and Simon wouldn't want that. Simon doesn't want secrecy and sneaking and lies. Not that'd even be an option, what with the press and curious bystanders everywhere.

There is another option of course. The only one Wilhelm would ever consider coming back for. The one which at first glance sounds perfect because it means being with Wilhelm and standing by his side. It would also mean giving up everything else in Simon's life though, but what has he really got to lose? Why stop being foolish now?

Wilhelm told Simon that he's it for him. Wilhelm loves him. Simon's already traveled across an ocean. What's one tiny text message compared to that? Why can't he be selfish just this once and fuck the risk and the idiocy and the fear of what will be in one year? In five? In ten?

It all might end in disaster, but it might also not, and why should he be miserable if there's even the slightest chance at some fleeting happiness. After all it's not as if the email Wilhelm sent isn't bound to upend Simon's life anyway, and it's not as if Wilhelm is actually going to come.

Simon wants to be happy.

Simon wants to be happy and now there's a chance for it and so why not take it? He's done stupider things before, like coming here in the first place, so he might as well go all the way.

He doesn't text Wilhelm a yes, doesn't make any promises. He texts one word and one word alone, followed by a number, the name of the hotel and his room number, and maybe that's the biggest promise of all.

He doesn't regret it. He couldn't stay, not without making his inevitable departure even worse, but now he's done his part and the ball is in Wilhelm's court, all the balls are, and Simon is here and waiting.

For a ferry. For Wilhelm. For the life they could have had.

Fuck.

#it was editing this #or throwing myself a pity party #because for the first time ever #I could attend all the Eurovision events live #with nothing stopping me except my own morals and conscious #so clearly I'm boycotting it all #and that's the easy choice #no pity party for me #hello editing #I'm not saying Simon is staying at the Hilton Garden Inn #but I'm also not not saying that #yes Faroe Gone will have a happy ending #faroe gone #young royals #young royals fic #fic snippet #wilmon #fic update

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xiiiwayfinders · 1 year

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The boys

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freddiemercurylegendabovelegends · 4 months

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London, UK, 1986 - Freddie Mercury at home, Garden Lodge, with his cat Tiffany

📸 Photo by Richard Young

👉 Tiffany a present from Mary Austin

#tiffany #freddie mercury #queen band #london #zanzibar #legend #queen #brian may #john deacon #freddiebulsara #roger taylor #1986 #uk #richard young #freddie mercury and mary austin #mary austin #garden lodge #cat

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goblinpuppy35 · 6 months

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Paw Prints in Fresh Soil

Part 1 - (Next Chapter)

Professor Remus x Male Reader

Summary: While teaching at Hogwarts Professor Lupin tries his best to conceal his strong crush for the green fingered grounds keeper Y/N but soon a strong friendship blooms into something more.

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It was a cool morning at the start of autumn, leaves were already starting to collect in the courtyard at Hogwarts and Remus was grateful for his thick cloak above his suit as he strolled down the stone corridors with the company of Harry and his friends. The amount of praise he was getting from his students in regards to the quality of his Defence against the Dark Arts classes was rather overwhelming for Remus, he felt deep joy in his heart knowing he was making a positive impact in these children's education. Harry's friend Hermione was asking him one question after another and the Proffesor was doing his best to keep up with this incredibly intelligent young witch however once he caught the site of the staff room door he did feel a small rush of relief. His social energy was starting to wither.

He opened the door swiftly, starting to bid the children goodbye and began to stride forward but luckily haulted upon his heels as to not knock into the much smaller figure on the other side of the door way. The younger gentleman's eyes had widened with the abrupt door opening and had clearly given him a scare. He raised his hand to his chest, palm pressing onto a very nice brown waistcoat. He was as formally dressed as a fellow teacher but had rolled his shirt sleveas beyond his elbows and had on thick worker gloves. Simailry his trousers were rolled up and instead of dress shoes he wore worker boots covered in mud. It was very common for Remus to frighten others when he loomed in door ways, he had just stared to form an apology between his lips when, "Sorry, hello. yes .. sorry" came out of the smaller man's mouth in a rush, despite his shock the panic on his face had faded and he smiled although made no direct eye contact with Remus. He smiled in the vague direction of Remus' chest and then proceeded to shift pass the Proffesor and walk down the hallway.

"Proffesor.. Proffesor are you alright?" asked Hermione who observed their teachers eyes following the figure walk down the hall with great focus. "Who is that?" Proffesor Lupin asked aloud without even thinking. "That's the new grounds keeper .. I don't know his name tho", Ron scoffed quietly at Hermione's answer "why do you know everything?". The bickering between the two students faded out of Remus' ear shot as he was still glued to watching the man walk away. "I'll see you later children" and without hesitation Remus ran after the man leaving his students behind and bewildered.

Eventually Remus made his way into the courtyard at the back of the school which stretched towards the grounds before dropping off towards to Womping Willow. With all the children returning to their classes it didn't take Remus long to pick out the gentleman, he was lifting pre chopped wood into a large rusty wheelbarrow. Remus was shocked by his own boldness as he approached the hunched figure. "Um.. hi .. hello, look I'm sorry if I scared you there. That was completely my fault. I'm Proffesor Lupin, Defence against the dark art teacher, I don't think we've met" Remus was holding out his hand as the man lifted his head up toward him. The crouching man smiles warmly before lifting himself up, chucking the last amount of wood into the wheelbarrel and taking Remus' hand in a light handshake. "It's fine really, I get easily spooked unfortunately, I'm Y/N"

Both man partook in an awkward handshake which made them both chuckle softly, recognising the social inept in one another. "Are you the new grounds keepers?" Remus asks, trying to hold back the excitement in his voice traveling from the thought of making a freind closer to his age. "Grounds keeper, gardening, occasionally herbology assistant, whatever Hagrid or other teachers need from me really, I do" Y/N said with another nervous chuckle rubbing the back of his neck with his gloves hand. Y/N's little laugh pleased Remus greatly, it automatically caused the corner of his lip to lift up. "It's parcular that I've never seen you before considering your a member staff" Remus mused playfully but then hesitated as he saw this comment draw out a uncomfortable expression on Y/Ns face, he looked off across the hills ahead of them. "Yeah .. I try to keep to myself when I can .. a lot of the teachers here are a little standoffish to me" and with that Y/N leaned down and lifted up the large wheelbarrow in preparation to move it. "I know the feeling" Remus couldn't helped but sigh though he was very aware why the other teachers were uncertain of him. Why they all refused to do the night patrols with him. It baffled Remus what could possibly be so off putting about the seemingly charming young man in front of him.

"Well, it was a pleasure to properly meet you Proffesor Lupin" Y/N began as he started to walk away "and um if you require any .. defense against the art dark related needs you know where to find me ... not that I imagine you would" again Y/N soft nervous laugh swirled around Remus' head as he meekly waved goodbye towards Y/N and let the man make his way down the grassy path.

Remus watched the man for a moment, rocking back and forth on his heels from the cold. Small clouds of warm breath bellowed out under his moustache and yet a little part of him felt warm inside. Comforted even by this brief encounter. Remus hoped he would be able to see this new potential friend again soon.

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