It's a horse eats horse world out there-
Wait-
No.
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one thing that i think that the "gandalf should have stayed dead" type critics don't get is that tolkien was, on several fundamental levels, not writing the best story. he was writing the story he (and many of us!) needed to hear. he wasn't going for realism because he lived through it. so he didn't need more meaningless death and suffering, he needed a story where the hobbits went home, changed but alive. he needed a story where eowyn learned that to live a healer was better than to die a hero. he needed a story where nature could fight back for its right to exist. he needed a story where the good guys had a cause that they accomplished, through all the struggle and pain and sacrifice, and gave them meaning. made them worth it. he needed a story that was hopeful, despite it all. so that's what he wrote
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@jegulus-microfic | 27-03; Birthday | 373 words
“Happy birthday Reg,”
James has followed him through the library, coming up behind him and whispering in his ear. He wasn’t sneaky, and Regulus shuddered uncomfortably at the breath on his neck.
Regulus slams the tome he was flicking through closed and replaces it into the shelf, unimpressed at both the nickname and the public familiarity. He whirls around to see James with a stupid smile on his face and his hand behind his back.
“What do you want?” Regulus snaps, raising his chin so he could peer down his nose at James.
He didn’t need to look around to see if anyone could see them. He’s led James here intentionally— but even if someone happens upon them, it will look like what it is. An altercation. Because if James has the gall to have a gift behind his back, Regulus is going to kill him.
“I got you something.” James says the dreaded words.
He feels the fire of frustration burning behind his eyes, and he’s sure if anyone other than James freakin Potter was in front of him, they’d cower.
James just pulls his hand from behind his back and holds up a leather bound journal.
“I noticed you were near the end of yours, so it’s practical, and, you would have had to get a new one anyway, and well, I liked picking it out for you.” He rambles, and Regulus surprises himself by reaching out and taking it, turning it over in his hands.
It’s nice. Really nice. The binding looks hand done, the leather work is precise and shows skill. He unwinds the tie, opening the book to feel the pages— textured hand made paper cut so precisely that there was a clean edge on the pages, just like Regulus liked.
He… loves it. Dammit.
Regulus glances up at James, who is turning red from holding his breath. Why does he even like this moron?
“Breathe, idiot.” Regulus says, rolling his eyes.
James lets out a breath and grins, and okay. That smile might have a little bit to do with it.
“Thank you.” He says quietly, genuinely, before nodding goodbye and walking away. He’ll thank him properly the next time he gets him in a broom closet.
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It's a bird! It's a plane! It's another intentionally suggestive Hotch x gn!reader scene!
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“Oh my god,” Aaron groans, voice muffled by the pillow his face is pressed into. “Don’t stop, baby, please.”
You bend at the waist to kiss the spot just behind his ear and murmur, “Yeah? Feels good?”
“That feels fucking incredible,” he affirms with another groan that reverberates through your body from the point where your hips meet. “What are you even doing back there?”
With a giggle, you mold your hands down his muscular back and explain, “It’s called petrissage, love. Part of my spa day was learning how to give a proper massage.”
“Emily got you that gift certificate for your birthday, right?”
“Mhm,” you hum, your fingers now trailing along the taut cords of muscle that make up his shoulders, the tension practically melting away beneath your touch.
“Remind me to give her a raise.”
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AH tags 🖤 @gothwifehotchner @iyv-ray24 @mrs-ssa-hotch
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