good lord what the hell is this

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It’s been 10 years since we first started taking the Hobbits to Isengard. I mean, it’s been way longer - the Hobbits could have fucking walked there, back again, managed to get served several times at the downstairs bar in Doggett’s and got a Southeastern train service all the way to Charing Cross since Tolkien put pen to page. But (and believe me, this is deeply unusual for me) let’s put J R R aside in this.

Peter Jackson’s Lord of the Rings trilogy is kind of… well, both too faithful (total lack of critical interrogation of Tolkien’s absolutely awful concepts around race, gender, etc.) and not faithful enough in that it appeared to miss all the points your correspondent’s teenage self managed to find in the series. Specifically, where Lord of the Rings is an obsessively detailed but ultimately quite modest and traumatised epic, a huge amount of which is two small, starving creatures crawling around in mud having moral dilemmas. The Jackson films take themselves as seriously and grandly as the books came to be and as I suspect their author probably never did.

Taking the Hobbits to Isengard, on the other hand, is a pure and perfect work and I will hear no ill spoken of it else ye never receive a pint in a round bought by me again. 

It takes as its base the Hovis-theme-ripping-off music from The Shire - the small-worlded part of the films, before any grandeur is truly injected into the bloated beastie that is the trilogy. The Hobbiton theme is supposed to be homely, reassuring, quaint - like anything that succeeds at that, it sounds fucking amazing played on an airhorn.

The simplicity of the Shire’s theme is what allows it to so naturally accept the kitchen-sink style auditory ornamentation that is ‘a donk’. A classic staple of rave, it needs no introduction even in a world as apparently dislocated from two WKDs and a honk on some poppers as the miruvor-quaffing pipeweed fiends we see here.

As a lyrical piece, Taking The Hobbits is discursive - like many of the very best pieces of pop. One only has to consider the sweet, sweet tension of Fleetwood Mac’s The Chain or Brandy and Monica’s iconic The Boy Is Mine to recognise that dialogous pop is, when it works, a particularly sublime genre.

It doesn’t matter that the lines are, ostensibly, orphaned from their original place in the script - from the eponymous ejaculation to Gollum’s hissed What did u say??? they’re all perfectly addressing each other in the sort of gloriously confused cacophony usually reserved for a misunderstanding-based brawl outside a kebab shop at 3am. 

I remember the first time I heard Taking The Hobbits To Isengard. It was quite a momentous occasion because I still had dial up, so it took roughly the length of a decent pop song to load and it was very difficult to tell if it was deliberate or a bandwidth-related glitch remix for at least 30 torturously disrupted seconds. I’d imagined it would be a fairly quick joke - most internet video based things were, at the time, but no; a fully fledged song. That just kept going. 

The initial air horns! These are funny, yes because we remember them as the Shire theme, which isn’t even the music for this bit. The stuttering sample of the original line! Which sustains itself as Sheffield Dave-style shout out far better than it should, given it’s old seriousface Elf ears himself yelling off a horse. 

(In retrospect, should have equated that with Sheffield Dave earlier)

Then there’s …polka bit. Few pop songs manage to maintain a polka interlude - Bohemian Rhapsody springs to mind but Taking the Hobbits To Isengard manages to repeatedly insert it without losing coherency around its original rave premise. If you don’t think ‘Tell me where is Gandalf, for I much desire to speak with him’ delivered over a little eurodance handbag bit is not both extremely funny and excellent pop, I can’t help you. 

Taking The Hobbits To Isengard would score reasonably at Eurovision. Not because Eurovision is actually the home of comedy trash but because if France (and it would probably have to be France in order for the Elven analogues to take themselves seriously enough) scooted in on an artpop platform and wanged loads of fucking airhorns round the stadium it would be entirely in keeping with European sensibilities of solemnly considering the totally whimsical due to our inherent reservedness about experiencing joy.

(The slightly older and wiser part of me has to question the repeated use of Gollum’s ‘stupid, fat, Hobbits’ which makes sense in the context of what he is but isn’t inherently funny, unlike a context-dislocated, bass-intoned ‘A Balrog of Morgoth’)

The great thing about Taking The Hobbits To Isengard is it actually gets funnier the more it goes on. Like Star Trekkin it not only sets out to commit to a fairly one-note premise but to hammer that note until it falls out through the piano and becomes a transcendent free agent, cascading through the strings. 

It takes a premise; that the Lord of the Rings films, in their overblown format, are very, very silly and runs with it extremely, deadly seriously. This is the core of not all but a fairly substantial chunk of really good pop, as well as an excellent manual for life. All things are here - a manic sense of imminent implosion, troubling past associated with racist ideologies, handcarts, hell, what did u say???

Very seriously; Taking The Hobbits To Isengard is a superb piece of fan work and it has substantially enriched my life to listen to it on loop for the past 45 minutes whilst watching a parliamentary debate on mute. Creators of this piece: thank.

The most important person in Keith’s life. I swear to god I came back from hell just to draw this because I was so proud at how honest Keith was. Redbubble

Harry has like these legs that are just 

MOUTH 

WATERING 

his thighs. they’re definitely nice

HE WEARS THESE TIGHT ASS MOTHER FREAKING JEANS

they just accentuate his THIGHS

what a wicked game you play 

HE IS HOLDING a microphone between his legs LORD

OKAY. ALRIGHT 

you keep doing that then. BUT I WILL COOK MYSELF

wtf??????????

okay. how lovely for you, but quit touching LEGS. I will spontaneously combust

he has the longest legs and 

they’re  

magical 

WHAT THE HELL

seriously 

my two personal favourites 

good bye 

PROS & CONS OF THE INHERITANCE CYCLE:

PROS:

  • talking dragons
  • complicated magic that takes a toll on your body when you use it
  • badass poc (seriously the best characters are all poc and even murtagh can be headcanoned as such)
  • URGALS
  • the hero isn’t any less of an idiot than the average teenager. he grows out of it though
  • NASUADA, one of the real queens of my heart
  • NASUADA X MURTAGH (*CRIES FOREVER*)
  • the bad guys are so cool you’ll ask yourself why you hate them again? (but hey’re like, really awful people)
  • werecats!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
  • AJIHAD FOR PRESIDENT OF EVERYTHING
  • arya, badass elven princess, being 10000% aware of the fact that most of the world is beneath her
  • eragon is the personification of the “hoe dont do it” meme
  • eragon’s attempts at flirting… good god….let’s say..uhm….realistic? cringeworthy?
  • murtagh’s life, like..all of it
  • there is a pronunciation guide at the end of each book, so you know how the author intended each name to be pronounced
  • murtagh’s back scar
  • THE CONCEPT OF “TRUE NAMES”
  • the ra’zac
  • the main character actually faces real consequences when he makes stupid decisions
  • world building worthy of lord of the rings tbh
  • every race has its distinctive culture, even the supposed “bad” races eg. urgals
  • ANGELA AND SOLEMBUM <3
  • disabled representation
  • ELVA
  • Saphira the dragon is sassy as hell and is 10000% aware that Eragon is, in fact, mostly wrong about everthing ever

CONS:

  • A LOT OF UNANSWERED QUESTIONS AT THE END OF THE SERIES LIKE??? WHY NOT PULL A TOLKIEN?? I WANNA KNOW WHERE THORN IS AT RIGHT NOW
  • people call murtagh an “antagonist” wtf????????what hte fuck what the ????
  • unfortunately no movie adaptation was made. none. in fact, I don’t think I even remember 2006 all that well tbh. not that there’s anything to remember. EVERYTHING IS FINE
A-Z NSFW: Yixing

Originally posted by squynhty

Cr.

Donate | Masterlist

A = Aftercare
Yixing is the most caring person in the world. Honestly he’s the best human that walks the Earth, don’t fight me on that. And he definitely will be the most loving and caring boyfriend/lover in EXO, if not in the entire human population. Yixing is certainly a guy that refuses to let you leave the bed until he knows you’re 100% okay. He’s not very rough in general, so hurting you isn’t a fear on his mind often, but he does want to make sure you’re happy and comfortable before he gets his dose of cuddles; either a quick shower if you feel up to moving or he’ll jump to get a warm rag because no one likes sweat and dry cum snuggles….


B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) 
Nothing fucked my day up more than reading an passage from his book, where he went to say things like he’s a good dancer, but not as good as Kai, a good singer but not as good as Luhan, handsome but not as handsome as Kris. It’s obvious no matter how brilliant he is, he’s literally the most perfect human alive, he’s still rather self conscious. He’d favor his abs, definitely. He rips his shirt off every chance he gets and on Go Fighting when he was woken up he literally went to the bathroom and stared in the mirror at them for a good 5 minutes…I’m sure he’s pretty proud of them. Being the sappy guy he is, of course he says your eyes are his favorite. He’s really lovey, what do you expect, honestly?

C = Cum
While he is the epitome of a gentleman, Xing’s still kind of hesitant and awkward around females. He’d have to finish in a condom in you or something, I feel like he’s such an angel that cumming all over you in semi degrading in his mind, insulting even. If the odd chance he does cum on you by accident, he’s flying off the bed to find something to clean you off. 


D = Dirty Secret (a dirty secret of theirs) 
I feel like Xing’ll have a lot of dirty secrets. Even though he loves you and he likes being honest with you, he doesn’t really like to be vocal about sex things. He respects you too much to actually bring any of it up, different positions and places he wants to have sex, he keep his lips sealed tight. But…you’ll just have to make him tell you, won’t you?

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)
See this is the thing, I can’t imagine Xing watching straight up porn. I remember him saying he does watch 19+ movies? Idk if any of you have watched those but I have and they’re….something…but certainly not on par with porn. I know he had a GF back in China, and wrote her songs and all that, he was definitely a loving boyfriend. He knows too much good stuff to put in his songs mym ??? boy…. and onE DOES NOT SIMPLY KNOW HOW TO MOVE THEIR HIPS LIKE THAT UNLESS THEYVE BEEN IN THAT GOOD PUS-anyways, I don’t think he’s a virgin….he definitely knows what he’s doing, he’s just too respectful to be a fuck boi like the rest of em XD


F = Favorite position

The way that boy gets down on the floor and humps boi busted his fuckin belt how tf that’s a straight up missionary guy. Xing really gets it going too….missionary sure as hell ain’t boring with his hips grinding away. He does fool around with the position, though. Prop your legs up over his shoulders or hook his arms behind your knees, the whole big thang, lord knows one simply does not get bored with xing’s dicc in ‘em.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

While Xing is kind of a meme, he’s adorkable in the best ways, when his shirts off and hips are moving, I’ve never seen the dude more serious. He’s damn determined to give the most for you; he’s in ‘character’ and he’s focused entirely on giving you both the most pleasure imaginable. 

H = Hair (How well groomed are they)
Lord knows I love his tummy and I have a weird obsession with his happy trail. I think he might wax every once in a while…I’ve seen him missing the hair from one armpit a few times……that’s weird…..anyways I don’t think he trims or stays bare much, probably one of the other boys forced him to go along to the ahem..’groomers’ or something.


I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)
This is Xing we’re talking about…they boy that wrote love songs for his childhood GF…..k but imagine baby xing writing little love songs, cute image, isn’t it? O-fucking-course Xing is tHE MOST romantic member in both your non-sexual relationship and your sexual one. He pampers you, and especially in the bedroom, he’s almost singing lyrics to you his sweet nothings are so sweet. He’s a stickler for that good ol ‘loving eye contact’ and holding your hands, bodies pressed entirely together while he confesses his love and admiration over and over again. 


J = Jack Off (Masturbation)

Listen…I know he’s a grown man….but I literally can’t see Xing jerking off? Like I feel like just the thought makes him flustered and he gets all awkward and has to think about all the rice cake he was force fed on Go Fighting! to chill back out again. He’d much rather be with you, so if the feeling arises, he stores it in the spank bank for later when he gets to be back in your arms.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)
Okay, okay. I do think Xing is an innocent little baby, but I know he’s not. You know the times he wears that like…silk fabric as a blindfold? He lowkey stole that and brought it back to keep for himself. He really likes the cool fabric feel against his skin and sometimes after a long long day, he likes to just lay back and hand you the fabric and let you have your own, uncontrolled, fun with him. 


L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)
Regardless on how he is in the bedroom, we all know Yixing is a good boy, he’s not going to take you somewhere there’s a risk of getting caught and/or in trouble, so he’s very firm in staying in the bedroom. But I really think he’d love bath sex, he likes water so much, the performances and all he wanted to do on Go Fighting! was go swimming, he’s a lil fishy. Bedroom and bath are really the only options to him.


M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

His songs are lowkey dirty, and if he’s got you, I imagine he’d be secretly writing songs about/for you all the time. I bet my leg he’s be writing his not so innocent lyrics and be thinking about you and then his mind wanders….and things grown….and he’d have to hunt you down…Yixing urned himself on just writing about you…sheesh he’s a weirdo…

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Back to Location, he 100% will not do anything public. He’s not easily turned on when he’s out in the world anyways, so it’s kind of pointless to try.  Also anything by his neck? Not happening, he’ll have a melt down. I’d pay to see someone try to give him a hickie….


O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

God Xing is such a little shit….He has the most talented mouth I’ve seen….he’s just too much. He’s a very big pleaser, he almost gets off on just getting you off, he’s a pro and even better since he knows your body’s reactions so well. He almost doesn’t like you going down on him, but he’s one that won’t even propose the idea of you returning the favor and if you take initiative to do it, he’s down for the ride, but he’s not going to ask.  

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

How the floor isn’t pregnant after all this time, I have no idea. If his um…floor fun is anything to show, he’s kind of rough. With an actual person, I don’t think he’d be that wild, a bit slower that he portrays and way more loving and sensual. 

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)
I feel like Xing has a pretty tight hold on his lust and whatnot, so I think if there isn’t proper time to have regular sex, he can easily push it away to bring up later when you’ve got time for it. If they did happen, quickies would be extremely rare, to the point you can count how many times you’ve had them on one hand. He just doesn’t like the rushed feeling.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

[See Location and NO] Yixing’s pretty hesitant in trying new things with you, he doesn’t really want to do anything that sounds like it could hurt either of you so a lot of things he isn’t game to even try but if they sound harmless enough, like just a new position or something, he’s okay with trying that.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Yixing does the very most all the time, he gives 142% in every single thing he does. I don’t think he tires out easily, that’s why he can’t do quickies, I don’t think he cums fast…you’ll probably be at it for a good 10 minutes and that’s excluding the foreplay. But one round is usually all he will do. 

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Beyond a few things that doesn’t really count as toys really aka the silk fabric blindfold thing, Xing doesn’t delve into toys much. He’s pretty much a sex machine on his own, him bringing toys into the bedroom isn’t a very likely scenario, he doesn’t really like or see the need for them.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Make no mistake, Xing is a little shit, Go Fighting! exposed his naughty side quite a bit lmao but after keeping his hormones in check, once he finally has his hands on you he can’t really hold himself back anymore. Teasing you is more so teasing himself and he don’t live for that life. Foreplay is a must, but teasing is right out the window.


V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)
Xing has the vocals of a god, don’t fight me on that. The boy has a good set of pipes but he’s more of a grunt/moan guy in the bedroom. No one’s going to hear him but you, he doesn’t like breathing on his neck but more often than not he’s got his head tucked against your neck and moaning and panting in your ear.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

We know Xing has his lil dance studio in China, and he 100% brings you with him on his trips back to his home country solely because of the place. Unless shiz is happening, no ones really in there and let’s just say sometimes he really likes the mirrors in the dance practice rooms…

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Okay we’ve literally seen his dick…like 100% Xing dick has been exposed.

b y e
Obviously it don’t really look like much but dicks are strange things, they grow like plants lmaoman i dead ass was watching this porn and it was like 30 mins long and dude had a lil thumb dick and i was like wtf is that and when he actually was hard the fucker was like 5 inch how tf that work either way, that whole motion in the ocean thing is legit, and we’ve seen his moves….itll be ok..

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Like I said, he’s lowkey a dirty guy but he keeps himself composed well. Xing has a pretty average sex drive, just slightly higher than usual but he keeps himself on a leash pretty well so it doesn’t show…but he’ll show you dont worry…

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Xing is a pretty cuddly boyfriend/lover in my mind, especially sine you’re alone his PDA hold back has gone out the front door, he’s latched to your side. I think after pretty much having an intense work out, you both fall asleep pretty fast. Xing’s definitely down for the count immediately after you’re cleaned up.

Coach

Summary: He always knew Dicky was different. Not bad different, just not like the rest of the boys in the neighborhood. A glimpse into the relationship of Coach and Bitty, and how Coach comes to terms with it all.  Also on AO3

Originally posted by harrimaniac27

“So, Dicky. Do you want to watch a movie?”

Coach was happy to have Dicky at home. His visits had become far and few between, a rare thing, ever since… well, recently. Suzanne was out with her bowling league, so it was just the two of them for the evening.

“Sure, Coach. What do you wanna see? I think Predator is about to start,” Bitty replied as he grabbed a bag of Brother Kane potato chips from the kitchen and settled into the couch.

He then took the remote and was browsing through the channel guide.

“Also Rocky III is on, uh… Casino. What else…”

Coach watched his son and smiled listening to the movie choices being offered to him.

He always knew Dicky was different.

Not bad different, just not like the rest of the boys in the neighborhood. When he was younger and the other coaches had their boys in pee wee leagues (already drilling the eye on the prize mentality into their heads: “One day you’ll be the star quarterback, son!”) he would look at Dicky and sigh knowing that wouldn’t be his son’s fate.

And he made peace with it, for Dicky was always kind, always helpful, always wore a smile on his face and a smudge of flour on his cheek.

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Edible Arrangements

(Hilly knows a couple things as a tadpole. He knows there’s probably a lax bro hitting on him, and that Bitty’s super-secret boyfriend may or may not be a middle-age lumberjack sugar daddy.)


Hilly knows a few things about Samwell’s hockey dynamics. He knows he is a tadpole; he initially expects to be hazed to the ground and forced to eat dog food or something like his roommate, who is currently rushing a frat. He expects the Haus to be dirty and filled to the brim with red cups and sticky floorboards. He also knows not to hang out with the lax team because Ransom and Holster said so, even though a cute boy who he thinks is from the lax team winked at him in his Intro to Anthropology class. He knows that NHL’s very own Jack Zimmermann, son of ‘Bad Bob’ Zimmermann and legendary hockey extraordinaire, is a Samwell alumni, and had slept in the very room which Chowder, their goalie, currently inhabits.  

But Hazeapalooza turns out to be nothing as bad as he expects (he even gets homemade pie out of it, even if Holster gives him the side-eye). And the Haus is cleaner than a sports frat house should be. The hockey team is nice (and surprisingly socially aware) and Hilly likes Samwell fair enough, but he misses home sometimes.

But Bitty makes things better. Hilly likes Bitty a lot. He likes hanging around the Haus and watching Bitty roll pastry dough with a practiced, methodical hand because it reminds him of how his mom used to bake cookies for him and his sister. Bitty doesn’t mind too much (he thinks) that Hilly may want to go on a date with a lax bro. Bitty bakes him peach cobbler with crumbles toasted a golden brown and talks about his family’s jam recipes. Bitty is open and warm and welcoming. However, the one thing Bitty doesn’t talk much about is his boyfriend.

Keep reading

@kylorenhell IT’S ONLY MY FAVORITE JOHN QUOTE EVER

here’s the full quote:

And you know, going up against Adam Driver; good lord. You gotta keep that blade up. Keep it up! [Laughs] Bob and weave, bob and weave! Adam Driver’s reach is like — he can be in New York, and he’ll slap you with the saber. You’re in LA, and you’ll be like [ducks] “What the hell was that?”

Phone Number? [Shin Wonho] M

Bartender!Wonho

2.8k words

Warnings:

~ Mature

~ Daddy kink (slight)


It all started late at night. You had just lost your job to the boss’s daughter and your best friend to his girlfriend, so you stopped by a bar to lose yourself. You decided you deserved to be treated though, so you went to the most expensive bar in Gangnam, with topshelf liquor. You weren’t entirely sure if even Patrón was going to be enough for you tonight. You could handle losing your job, but Kihyun had been your life for years. Your feelings for him slowly built until they were shattered by his girlfriend two years ago. You vowed to never let him know about your feelings because of how happy he was with her. It was so beautiful to see him smiling all the time, even if it wasn’t because of you.

You found yourself walking into the classy building, surprisingly vacant of customers. The bar had comfy looking chairs lining it, and the tables surrounding the area had chairs made of mahogany. The entire place had a sexy aura to it, arousing an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of your stomach.

You sat yourself at the bar and let your hair down, eliciting a glance from the previously busy bartender.

“Can I get a pineapple cocktail, two shots of Silver Patrón?” You asked the him and he nodded his head.

“That’s a lot of Patrón for a little lady like you, something bad happen?” His lips formed ugly little words in a beautiful way. You noticed, upon studying him a bit, that he looked simply delectable. His broad shoulders had his black button-up pulled taut, and it seemed as though his arms were going to burst out of the rolled up sleeves any minute. He sported black hair with subtle blue highlights, and it was slicked back in a way that made me want to run my hands through it and mess it up.

“Heh, you okay ma’am?” His lips pulled into a knowing smirk, “You’re about to start drooling.”

“Huh?” I snapped out of my trance and something came over me, a feeling of pure desire. “Oh, yeah, I’m fine, I just don’t run into bartenders this sexy very often,” I said as my voice became as sultry as ever.

“Well today’s your lucky day then, I’m here all night,” He said with an indistinguishable look in his eyes.

His smirk was playing games with your sanity, making you think things you hadn’t had time to think of before. There was something wild about him. Something more than a man who cleaned glasses and made drinks for a living.

“I guess I came to the right place then, Lord knows I need something good today.”

“Oh, well back to my previous question, something wrong?” He handed you your drink with a coaster under it and leaned on the bar in front of you, bringing him to eye level.

You thought about your day and decided to tell him what happened, why the hell not?

“Eh, it’s really nothing much, but I lost my job to the boss’s daughter,” you sipped on your cocktail and relished in the burning of the tequila on your throat before continuing, “and my best friend was given an ultimatum by his girlfriend to choose between us. He chose her.”

“Tough luck,” his features showed sympathy, “but at least you’ve got the sexiest bartender in Korea to listen to you.”

“Hah!” You chuckled, “I guess you’re right.”

When he heard your response he stood straight up with his brows furrowed, “You guess? Have you seen me?”

Devious little thoughts crossed your mind, little things to say to him, but you chose the one that would give you the most benefit.

“Well of course I have, but there are improvements that could be made,” You said while biting your lip.

“Oh yeah? Like what?” He leaned in closer to you and you felt your breath catch in your throat.

“Well, you look like a bit of a prude with your shirt buttoned all the way up,” You took your hand to his collar and started playing with the buttons, “maybe if you did this it would look a little better?” You said as your fingers undid the first button on his shirt. “Hm, one or two more maybe?” Your fingers were working on their own now, undoing the next two buttons to reveal a peek of his chest.

“Well, I’m sure you’re right, I must look even sexier like this.” His low voice seemed to turn a little bit husky as your hand brushed his chest on its way down to the table top.

The flirting seemed to continue forever and you had consumed three drinks by the time the bar was supposed to be closing.

“Hey, mind if I ask your name, bartender?” Your mind was fuzzy but your speech wasn’t slurred yet and you felt fine to stand and lean over the bar.

“It’s Hoseok, you?” He leaned close to you and you just wanted to thread your fingers through his hair and pull him even closer until your lips were crashing into each other.

“I’m Y/N, and I’m also drunk and need a ride home. Are you willing?” You let your hand rest on his bicep and traced ghost circles.

The look that crossed his face could only be described as hunger, and something inside you loved that you had evoked it.

“Yeah, I can give you a ride home, as long as you give me your number,” He bit his lip and stood up.

“Deal, give me a pen and a napkin,” You felt yourself getting excited for the rest of the night, even though there were no plans you had a feeling something would happen.

Hoseok turned around to grab a pen, but the alcohol hit you all at once and you felt your vision blurring and knees buckling, until everything suddenly went black. So much for letting loose tonight.

 

When you came to, you found yourself in bed with ten pillows and a blanket wrapped firmly around you. You sat up and realized it was a bad idea once the sun’s rays hit your eyes from the window.

“I don’t remember having that window… What happened to my house?” You thought to yourself with squinted eyes as you rose out of bed to find your clothes on the floor next to the nightstand. Panic overwhelmed you and you looked down at yourself to find you still had your underwear on at least.

Your eyes, more alert now, scanned the room, looking for clues. There was nothing until you saw a lump in the bed next to where you were sleeping.

“My mother… she would be so disappointed in me…” You thought as you hit your head.

Your thoughts jumbled into one big mess and you crawled onto the bed to peek under the covers at the lump. You saw a head of beautifully messy black hair, followed by a toned back and a nice ass in black boxers.

“Oh my God!” You shouted and fell off the bed with a huge thud that hurt your tailbone.

The man jumped out of bed with the laziest look of fear on his face, “Huh? Oh shit, are you okay?”

“I, uh, I don’t know. Most prominently my ass hurts, followed by my head, but that’s not the point!” You searched your head for memories from yesterday and remembered a few things. Things like being thrown away by work, your best friend, and then going to the bar and meeting one sexy bartender.

“Well get back on the bed,” He said as he held his hand out to you. You took it and took the chance to study his face, but low and behold there wasn’t much to study. You had studied him very well last night while you were drinking.

A blush powdered your cheeks as you said thanks and covered your scantily clad body, “Uh, thanks.”

“Do you remember last night?” He looked at you while running a hand through his hair and you noticed all the veins in his arm were popping.

“Uhm, yes, and I’m sorry, I’m not usually so straightforward. Did we do anything once we got here?”

“Heh,” he laughed, “no, you were mumbling about how horrible your day had been and how it was such a blessing you met me, then you K.O’ed. I had to undress you myself.” Hoseok smirked. “Nice tattoo by the way.” He was referring to the lacy design you had gotten under your boobs and on your abdomen.

“Oh, uh thanks, I got it to feel sexier. Guess it worked last night, huh?” I giggled nervously and lowered my head.

“Hey, you don’t need a tattoo to feel sexy, you’re the sexiest women I’ve seen.” He lifted your chin to look you in the eye. “Though, the tattoo does certainly add to it.”

You could feel heat spreading everywhere throughout your body, something new. You liked this feeling, feeling sexy. Hoseok aroused this new feeling in you, and damn it you just wanted him to put you on your knees.

His hand that had been on your chin worked it’s way around to the back of your head where he took a handful of your hair and pulled you closer.

“Do you mind? If I give myself what I’ve been waiting for all night?” His voice seemed even lower now, becoming a growl.

Something inside you took over and you straddled his lap, taking fistfuls of his hair and you brought yourself even closer to him. So close that your lips brushed his when you said, “Take me.”

His other arm wrapped around your waist the second you said it and pulled you so close that your bodies became one. His lips crashed into your’s furiously, as though he wanted to take your mouth for his own. Beneath you, you could feel him growing harder and you decided to take advantage of it by rocking your hips just slightly to cause him to moan.

“Oh no you don’t, you’re mine,” He snarled into your ear before flipping you on your back and climbing over your body. “I’m going to make you shake, so you just lay there and take what I give you. Understand babygirl?”

“Y-yes,” Nothing much had even happened and you were already this breathless.

He lowered his head to your neck and started nipping his way to your collarbone before going back up to kiss the sensitive areas better. He had you writhing in anticipation already, wanting more friction on every part of you. Hoseok snaked his arm around your back and unclasped your bra, sliding it down your arms and tossing it somewhere unknown while taking your peak into his mouth, working wonders with just his tongue. He took your other nipple and toyed with it until your hands threaded into his hair and your back arched. You were aching for more and the moans leaving your moths weren’t enough to tell him that.

“What is it princess, what do you want?” He smirked at you while letting his hands caress your sides and latch onto your hips.

“I-,” you knew what you wanted but your words were failing you. You had to find some way to tell him, so you grabbed one of his hands and started sucking on two of his fingers, eliciting a few guttural groans from his lips.

“I want more,” You said once you gained some control back.

“Hm, more…” He smirked that smirk you knew so well by now. “Well how much more?” He slid your panties to the side and just barely brushed your clit. “This much? Or this much?” Hoseok whispered into your ear as he shoved his fingers inside you and pumped relentlessly. You didn’t think your back could rise off the bed anymore, but it did and at that angle he was hitting all the right places.

“Or this much more?” He snarled as he slid down your body and found himself in between your legs in a mere instant. He pulled off your panties in one swift movement before diving right in and eating you like dessert. He took your clit into his mouth and made little figure eights with his tongue to make you moan his name. Finally, he added his fingers into the mix, entering you again just as strong as before. You could feel the coil in your stomach tightening and your moans grew louder before you started shaking. You had never been this sensitive before and no one had ever gotten you to such a high peak.

Hoseok finished you off by sucking on your clit and yet again increasing the speed of his fingers to a blinding pace. You lost all control of your body and started shaking as you screamed his name. He slowed down just a little to let you ride out this new level of heaven before bringing you back down to him by crawling back up your body and nibbling on your ear.

“See princess, I told you I’d make you shake,” Hoseok whispered to you before kissing you softly. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” you panted, “yes I’m okay, please give me more… Daddy,” You looked to him with your eyes half closed, looking you see what he thought but you couldn’t see him for long before he crushed your lips with his. You got remnant tastes of yourself once you opened your mouths and allowed your tongues to dance together.

“You’re learning well babygirl, I’ll give you what you want,” He was panting as he slid off his boxers to reveal his throbbing cock, and you couldn’t believe how big he was. You had been with decently sized guys but he looked the biggest.

Hoseok positioned himself in between your legs, guiding his tip in before slowly going all the way to the hilt. He buried his head in the crook of your neck and let out obscenities before composing himself. The way he looked you in the eye to see if you were okay only made you want more. You could feel him inside you and you loved it but you wanted to know how good he felt slamming into you as fast as he could.

Hoseok started kissing you softly and thrusting in and out, picking up speed as he went. He made you feel like you weren’t on this planet anymore, you only knew of pleasure when you were with him.

“Fuck princess, you’re so tight,” His voice was getting louder by the second, and then he stopped. “Are you okay with doggy style?”

“Mhm,” You nodded, letting yourself be flipped over and put on your hands and knees in one fell swoop. Then he entered you again, from behind this time and he reached new places, places that had you screaming his name over and over.

“Please, harder Daddy, I’m almost there…” You moaned as he took a handful of your hair and pulled your head back.

“Fuck, more? Are you going to be okay?”

“Yes, yes, please fuck me harder,” You were both out of breath but Hoseok picked up speed and for the second time you started shaking. Your arms collapsed and you rode out this feeling of pure ecstasy while Hoseok took time to reach his high.

“Damn babygirl, can I cum inside?” He asked as he gripped your hips even harder and slammed into you a few last times while you nodded. He pumped one last time before spilling himself inside you.

You both fell to the bed and tried to catch your breath and wrap your minds around what just happened.

“Oh my God,” You panted, your mind thoroughly blown.

“Holy shit,” Hoseok muttered, wiping off his forehead. “Are you okay?”

“Do you know how many times you’ve asked me that? I’m fine, better than fine, I’m amazing.”

“Well I know I can be too much for some girls so, I don’t know, I guess it’s become habit.”

“Well that was fantastic, I’ve never been with anyone like you.”

“Same goes for you, shit that was good.” He looked at you while biting his lip. “You know, you still owe me your phone number.”

A puzzled look crossed your face, “But we fucked? It’s a one night stand, am I wrong?”

“Yeah, you are, I don’t do one night stands.” He looked at you softly, “Though next time we meet I’d like to take you out for dinner and get to know more about you as a person?” Hoseok blushed a little sheepishly.

“Oh uh, yeah, o-of course!” You smiled as you laid your head on his shoulder, “Mind if we nap though? I’m exhausted.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” He said as he pulled you into his arms and drifted off slowly.

Happy birthday @amorverus

“With that magnitude and scale of destruction, it can only be caused by a prince of hell,” Jace said, his voice loud in the war room.

The other shadowhunters nodded and murmured in agreement and Magnus’ eyes flickered to Alec who stood a couple of meters away from Jace and was staring intently at the news report on Mauna Kea’s eruption and the unending rain of soot, ash and fire, that was slowly turning Hawaii into a wasteland. He stood tall with his arms crossed behind his back, the very picture of the perfect soldier. The only thing that gave away his agitation: his furrowed brow and the way he shifted, almost imperceptibly from one foot to the other.

“The question then is, which prince of hell is it,” Lindsay, the dark-haired, glasses-wearing shadowhunter that always shifted just out of the way every time he showed up at the institute said. Her eyes met his and had everyone else turning to look at Magnus. “Which one of them would you say it is?”

Magnus shook his head. “None of them.”

“What,” Jace asked and finally looked up at Magnus.

Magnus shrugged. “If a prince of hell was walking on earth, the death toll will be way more than the fifty-seven people that the reports say have died. Why expend so much energy if the kill would end up being so low? Especially if they go through this much to flaunt their power?”

“And what would you know about the princes of hell warlock,” he heard one of the shadowhunters sneer.

Alec’s head snapped up. Before Magnus could reach out to calm him, a voice spoke up.

“Clearly more than you. A prince of hell indeed. Stupid nephilim.”

Magnus spun around. That voice. He knew that voice. Hoped to everything that was good and pure that he would never have to hear it again. Clearly the heavens paid no mind to the children of Lilith because sitting right on a chair at the corner of the room was a slender man, dressed in a deep blue, almost black tailored suit. Shoes that were so polished, Magnus was sure he would have been able to see his reflection in them. He’d replaced his preferred diamond cufflinks with ones of black opal, a blue garnet tiepin kept his tie in place. His hair was combed back, and kept in place by the barbed wire crown he wore. Cat eyes eerily similar to his when he dropped his glamour stared back at him and Asmodeus’ lips curved into a mocking smile.

“Hello Magnus. It’s been a while.”

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Thor: Ragnarok - Third Time Really Is The Charm

(As usual - Spoiler Warning)

Bless 👏 this 👏 cinematic 👏 masterpiece 👏 Honestly, this movie makes you root for Thor. I’m so happy this film is the one Marvel’s ending 2017 on, like, what a come back. The pacing, the score, the humor, the characters, the colors, the PLOT! Usually I avoid trailers like the plague because I feel like they give too much of the film away. And admittedly I only watched one or two of the Thor: Ragnarok trailers. But holy shit, those two trailers were the single greatest misdirect of Marvel cinematic history! I mean, the trailers made the movie look good, but the actual movie was EVEN BETTER!!!!!! WOW. Bravo trailer producers, way to do it right! 

Here are some of my favorite things about Thor: Ragnarok
————————————-
• First of all, MURDER PUPPY!!!!!!!! I WANT ONE.

• Soundtrack on point, absolutely perfect!!!

• Hela’s hair!!!!!!! Goals.

• The fight choreography!!!!! Holy shit well done, way to get me so pumped up I can’t get to bed until 2 a.m.! Nice.

• The COLORS! I am IN LOVE with Marvel’s new MCU branding holy shit. All the neon is fueling my soul!

• Those camera angles! Real talk, that scene where we get Loki and Valkyrie walking up to the Grandmaster and the camera circles from behind them, through the floor, and then back up in front of them???? *fans self*

• The Grandmaster - what a character. Omg, he pulls you in. He’s that kind of dangerous charismatic where you know there’s something off about him, the planet, this whole situation. But man, is it easy to just forget about all that when the Grandmaster starts talking.

• They made Thor likeable, they made him relatable, they showed him mature?????? Like, in the span of 2.5 hours we watched Thor go from “douche-bag, my actions have no consequences, I do what I want” dudebro to “responsible, respectful, funny, I take responsibility for my actions and learn from them” dudebro???? HELL YES FINALLY. AND they didn’t give him his hammer back at the end because - guess what?? - he’s the Lord God of Thunder and he doesn’t fucking NEED it. Omg, he’s just raw POWER there by the end holy fuck.

• This movie listened to the fans and gave us what we deserve - good character development for EVERYONE. Thor, Hulk, Valkyrie, the Executioner, Odin, Loki, Bruce got some development, heck - they even fleshed out Hela’s character without cornering her into the stereotypical “Woman Scorned” trope!

Now, hear me out on that. It looks at first glance like she is the “Woman Scorned,” and yes - she was scorned by Odin. But! Instead of her motivation being simply, “I was burned so now I will exact my revenge,” (cinematically setting her up to fail) she plays the long game. Hela waits. She waits because she knows Odin will die one day, and I don’t know if any of you noticed, but she didn’t waste any time thinking of a new revenge plot when she got back to Asgard.

She just picked right up where she left off before Odin banished her. His banishing her was a blip on her radar, it *didn’t phase her at all.* It was nothing to her. I mean, yeah she was pissed, who wouldn’t be? But she wasn’t pulling any of this shit to get revenge on the Asgardians. She wouldn’t have touched them if they had submitted to her rule. She was not there for revenge, she was there to finish what she started. To have Asgard be the ruling land of the entire universe, beyond the nine realms, with her on the throne.

AND SHE WAS WINNING!!!! Thor had to literally kick-start the Nordic apocalypse, the very thing he was initially trying to prevent, just to stop her! Like, my Death Wife is a force not to be reckoned with, she will beat your ass without a thought. And she loves Fenris, what a good mom 😍

• There was no happy, tied up with a bow ending!!!! I just said this, but I’m gonna say it again, they had to purposefully trigger Ragnarok and burn Asgard to the ground in order to defeat Hela. There was no magic “Get out of jail free” card to win here. Losing was their only option: either lose to Hela or lose to the start of Ragnarok. Consequences from actions in past movies were felt. Hard. That’s so rare to see in a superhero movie. I am here 👏 for 👏 it 👏

• Hi, yes. Could Hela please crush me? It would be an honor. Hela is a brutal fighter and I’m LIVING FOR IT. She held nothing back, she single-handedly took out the entire Asgardian army!!! Homegirl lived up to her title holy shit yessss. First, Wonder Woman, then Atomic Blonde, and now Thor: Ragnarok. 2017 is delivering the most bad ass women on the big screen!!

• Speaking of, CAN WE TALK ABOUT VALKYRIE???? Like, homegirl can get it. What a woman, I love her. She straight up annihilated that scavenger group while absolutely shitfaced. She has authority on this chaos-ridden planet, you can see it when she talks to the Grandmaster. He respects her! She’s good, and she knows it. Yes! Let women be proud of and flaunt their skills in combat!

   ° Thor wanted be a Valkyrie when he grew up, if that ain’t the cutest shit…..He has such respect and admiration for her, you can see it in the way he speaks about and acts toward her. Fanboy!Thor is pure.   

• No Romance!!!! Bless

• ASGARD’S NOT A PLACE IT’S A PEOPLE 😢😢😢😭😭😭😭

• Omg the sibling dynamic was strong. We got to see some growth here between Thor and Loki, bless.

     ° Thor just throwing random shit at his brother to see if he’s actually physically there.
     ‎
     ° ‎Loki turning himself into Thor’s favorite animal (a SNAKE btw) just so he could go “surprise!” and stab him.
     ‎
     ° ‎Loki having MULTIPLE opportunities to ditch Thor and leave him and Asgard to burn yet coming back at the last second every single time to help his bro??? (With the ulterior motive of having the spotlight to himself, but come on!) 
     ‎
     ° ‎Thor outsmarting Loki (CHARACTER GROWTH LOOK WHO’S NOT A STUPID JOCK) at every turn and knowing he can’t fully trust Loki but also knowing that Loki’s NEVER going to provide help unless he gets something out of it? And knowing how to *play* Loki right back. Knowing how to trick the trickster into helping by playing the dick older brother “You’re a trickster, you won’t help” card. He knows Loki’ll want to prove him wrong.  
     ‎
      ‎° GET. HELP.
      ‎
      ° ‎ExcuUse you Marvel. Where’s my bro hug?!?!?!?

• Bruce!!! My smol anxious green bean with 7 PhDs, I will protect you!

• Thor trying his best to help Bruce through a panic attack with his limited knowledge of Natasha’s lullaby.

• Canon proof that the Hulk isn’t some dumb rage machine! He’s smart, has a sense of humor, shows restraint, can string full sentences and thoughts together. Why would anyone expect otherwise? The guy lives in the head of BRUCE BANNER. What? You think he didn’t pick anything up? Geeezeee.

• The new brotp is Hulk and Valkyrie, I will fight anyone who says otherwise.

• Fuck Strange. He didn’t need to be there. The shoehorning was real. Ughhh.

• R.I.P. Tony’s pants 

Thor: Ragnarok a.k.a. my longest “Yeah Boi” ever. 
———————————-
10/10, Marvel’s getting it’s MCU groove back. This movie reminded me so much of the “Thor: God of Thunder” comics by Aaron and Ribic. It’s so good and it’s so unforgiving. Ugh! I want more!!!! The critics got it right, you guys. This movie is so good. 

You deserve some good in your life, so go see Thor: Ragnarok. You will leave a happy bean and feeling like you can conquer any obstacle in your life.





So I spent the whole week obsessing over @careamorran​‘s evil!Outlaws idea, and I couldn’t function well with it just sitting in my head. So instead I wrote something about it. It’s currently 1am and I am close to passing out so just go and check her out! This girl is amazing artist and an even more amazing person.

 Possibly more to come


The moonless night made warehouse both dark and cold. No one in their right mind would come here at such time, when the slightest touch of metal walls made skin freeze. Not even rats lived in places like this. But well. This is Gotham.

“-6 busted cars, and all the cargo. We had moved 2 labs after our men told us which information the Bat took from them, though the biggest one still got taken by the GCPD-“ Read a man standing behind his boss.

In Gotham on nights such like this crime Lords and Ladies gathered in  warehouses as cold as this one to meet, plan and trade. It is not often that a such a big meeting happened. The fear of the bat and general dislike for each other meant that having such meets more often would end up in blood and high bullet bills.

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I find myself wondering a lot where it stops with the wizarding world borrowing muggle technology ??? when did they decide that this specific amount of muggle technology is good. but to hell with the rest!!! bathtubs, plumbing, sinks, clocks, sure. cars???? oh man what the HECK is a car??? dear lord??? also pens????? pencils???? never heard of them. who decides what is acceptable and what’s not?? is there a council?? who decided that trains were ok but cars were Taboo???

Arsonist’s Lullabye

A/N: Title is inspired by one of my favorite Hozier songs. Hope you like part 3 of the Bad Boy Shawn series even though it’s rather short.

Part 1: Smells Like Teen Spirit

Part 2: Come As You Are


When I was a child, I heard voices
Some would sing and some would scream
You’ll soon find you have few choices
I learned the voices died with me
When I was a child I’d sit for hours
Staring into open flames
Something in it had a power
Could barely tear my eyes away

All you have is your fire
And the place you need to reach
Don’t you ever tame your demons
But always keep them on a leash


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Imagine Being Star-Lord’s Daughter and Wanting To Pet Rocket

Originally posted by jiggyjord

Originally posted by hawkeyeballs

“Hey, hey!!!” Peter looked back into the Milano behind him to see his daughter, Y/N, trying to pet Rocket as he lounged in his seat.

“Watch the fur, kiddo!” he cried.

“But you’re so soft, Uncle Rocket!” you said, brushing a hand over his head anyway.

“I ain’t no stuffed toy!”

“Of course not,” you said as matter-of-factly as a five-year-old child could. “You’re a raccoon!”

“Raccoon? What’s a raccoon? Why has nobody told me what the hell a raccoon is yet?” Peter chuckled to himself as he watched, and he turned back around to face the front of the ship again.

“What’re you laughing about, Quill? What the hell is a raccoon? Freakin’ Terrans…”

(For @soccer-love-life-n-randomthingz​)

Mated Pt 3 // Werewolf Shawn

Part 1 | Part 2 

(oops didn’t edit this sorry yall i’m too tired)

Summary: You and Shawn are mates. He’s an alpha werewolf. You’re a human. Also…you have a boyfriend already. What happens when a werewolf is rejected by his mate?

The walk home was quiet. Leaves rustled around you, blowing in the breeze that cut through your thin jacket. It was all starting to hit you. So you turned twenty and now your life has been set on a path with Shawn’s because Myra saw it in a vision. How were you going to explain it to your parents? Your friends? Your boyfriend?

You pull your jacket tighter against you, wrapping your arms around yourself to keep warm. It wasn’t fair that you didn’t get to choose who you married. It wasn’t fair that you would have to break up with your boyfriend. No. It wasn’t. So fuck it. Nobody can force you to date Shawn, to love him. Nobody can make you break up with your boyfriend. You huff, breath coming out in a little foggy cloud. The temperature is dropping and you still have several blocks to walk until you’re home.

You hear someone jogging toward you. Probably just someone out for some exercise. You step to the left so they can pass you but their steps slow down to a walk. Glancing back, you see Shawn just behind you, casually walking maybe twenty steps back. His hands are in the pocket of his hoodie he must have put on after you left Myra’s house.

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anonymous asked:

Imagine if Jamie travelled through the stones, but instead of finding Claire in Boston he found himself having arrived years too early, when the War was still happening and Claire had yet to meet him... What would he do?

Notes from Mod Bonnie 

Trying something a bit new as a palate-cleanser, lads and lasses! 

Please do note that I am blissfully, unapologetically putting next-to-no effort into making this historically accurate. Soooo, if you’re in a military history/fact-checking/date-referencing mood… best take those efforts elsewhere ;D 

Hope you enjoy! 


The Last All-Clear 

September 17, 1942: A Rusty Nail 



C. E. B. Randall

Camp Nightwing, France


17 September

Daytime rotation today.

No new battle casualties & all quiet in the distance, thank God. 

Did tend M. Danton (scored on the arm w/ rusted nail; antibiotics & sterile bandage to finish; strict instructions to report in 3 days for follow-up). 

A strange sort, and no two ways about it. 



“Claire—darling—dearest—You know how much I ADORE you, don’t you?

I was already smirking—fondly, but smirking nonetheless—by the time I turned from restocking the supply cabinets for tomorrow. “How much do you adore me, Nance?”

“So much that I’ll do absolutely any of your chores—ALL your chores!!—for a week if you’ll go tend Danton??”

Danton? The frenchman?” A glance revealed a familiar set of hunched shoulders (spilled over with filthy black hair) just visible through the cracked partition of the infirmary tent. “What’s happened to him?”

“Nothing serious. Says he got scraped by a nail or screw or something this morning and needs to be cleaned up a bit, but oh, please, Claire??” Nancy whined, grabbing both my hands in hers. “I know you were supposed to go off-duty at eight and it’s nine-thirty already but puh-LEASE will you take ten minutes before you go and be the one to tend him?? Please-please-pl—” 

“Good Lord, no need to go into a tizzy about it,” I laughed, a bit taken aback by how truly distraught she seemed. “Surely the man doesn’t bite!” Though in truth, I didn’t know that for certain.

I’d never spoken to him, nor even so much as looked him in the eye, but Danton—was his first name even known?— was a legend in camp. He’d joined the company a month or two ago, they said, one of the men-of-all-work that alternately served as laborer, orderly, handyman, gravedigger, or any other role requiring a strong back. Though I’d always gotten the sense he was past his prime, from the state of his clothing and posture and hygiene, a strong back Danton did have, and whatever his age might be, he was indispensable.  The camp always had to be ready to go into action, or even pick up and move entirely at a moment’s notice. In this chaotic wartime reality, with life and death so often on the line, a spare set of hands was always needful. 

There were a dozen such men in camp, all of them civilian frenchmen, but Danton was the only one people seemed to talk about; which was quite the irony, given that he was a man of notoriously few words. He kept always to himself, speaking only when directly addressed, gruffly and shortly when he was, crossing the verge of sheer bad-temperedness more often than not. Rooms tended to shift to low whispers when Danton entered, if not empty entirely.

It didn’t seem to bother him. The entirety of my experience with the man consisted of glimpses from across the camp or mess-hall. Yet, even that barest of acquaintance was enough to have convinced me that the unsmiling, grubby Danton—with his hunched shoulders, with that profoundly-unkempt black hair and drooping cap that together hid his eyes—wished to be left alone. 

My skin had prickled, though, whenever I had studied him, crawling with something I couldn’t quite put into words or even—

“He gives me the absolute heebie-jeebies!!” Nancy summarized neatly in a whisper. “I can’t do it, I just can’t! Anything you ask, Claire, and it’s done, but PLEASE be a brick and get me out of this??”

I would have agreed in any case—if for nothing more than to satisfy my own slightly-morbid curiosity— but I had absolutely no qualms over letting Nancy take my bedpan duties for a week out of the bargain.

….and surely the man DIDN’T bite?


“Monsieur Danton?”

He JUMPED as though shot, and I startled so violently (absurdly searching for elongated canines in the momentary panic) that I swore and dropped my tray, the bowl, cloth, and other impedimenta clattering and scattering all over the floor with great metallic crashes.

I was utterly mortified, positively dove to my hands and knees to gather the scattered supplies and hide my face, and then the sensation doubled to realize that the frenchman was on the ground beside me. I had only enough time to notice the juxtaposition of the fine leather glove on his left hand with the wretched filth of his clothing before he was placing the last item on the tray. “Thank you,” I mumbled awkwardly, glancing up to smile in thanks, and caught a momentary glimpse of vivid blue eyes before he recoiled, leaping to his feet and busying himself with getting the tray on the table. 

Shy, whatever else he might be. 

“Well, we’re off to a bumpy start, sol—Sir,” I managed with a weak laugh as I got to my feet, throwing myself fully into that ‘jovial commanding-officer’ character that had weathered many an awkward encounter in my career to-date. My usual script felt a little bereft without the useful address of ’soldier.’ “I’m Nurse Randall,” I said more briskly, clearing my throat with a smile.  “I’m told you need medical attention for your arm?”

He rolled up his sleeve without so much as a word. Very well, down to busin—

“Good LORD! I gasped, stepping forward and reaching for the arm, then pushing him down into the chair. Not merely a scrape: it was a slash, a wicked, deep one, about two inches long, just below the right elbow. “This needs stitches! What the bloody hell happened?” 

No answer. 

Giving him the benefit of the doubt, I said more kindly in French, “Monsieur, will you tell me what happened to your arm?

No nod. No grunt. The brute didn’t bother even to raise his chin from his chest. 

No language barrier, then: just an arse.  

I reached for the antiseptic, my nostrils flaring. “Will you look at the state of this?” The blood had long since clotted, but the wound clearly hadn’t been washed, let alone sterilized. “Why in God’s name didn’t you come and get help for it right away?

Silence.

“Excuse me, I am TALKING to you,” I snapped, choosing to stick with French for castigation as I prepared the suturing supplies. “Why didn’t you bother coming for help unt—?”

“Do what’s-must to prevent the festering and I’ll be going, yes?” he snapped back with such venom that I would have gasped if I weren’t so grounded in pique. 

So: he was both capable of speech and every bit as ill-tempered for it.  Lord, give me the strength not to SLAP this man. I bit my tongue and cleansed the wound in icy silence.

“Far from home?” I blurted testily, when the tension became too insufferable even for me. 

His head snapped up.

Your accent,” I clarified as I reached for a clean cloth, genuinely curious despite my ire, “—your syntax. It’s not a standard dialect…nor like the other frenchmen in camp, I think?” 

“No.”

I had about an ounce of pleasantness left in me and I scraped it up to force a smile. “Grow up in the country, eh?”

“Yes.”

“…Care to share where?” 

“No.”

“Well, you’re just a blooming basket of violet-scented rainbows, aren’t you?” I snapped in English. “Hold bloody still, this will hurt and you’ll deserve every blasted bit of it.” I gritted my teeth and swore under my breath as I began stitching, in absolutely no mood for grumpy man-children. “Jesus H. Roosevelt CHRIST.”

By complete chance, standing bent over his arm as I began to stitch, I happened to be looking down at his mouth as I said it. To my absolute gobsmacked surprise, I saw a smile twitching at the corners, small and restrained, as though he were trying very much not to show it, but clear as day: a tiny smile verging on a grin. 

Well…! Not a *complete* automaton, then. 

I was taken still further aback when the mouth opened and said quietly in French without looking up, “Forgive me, please, Madame. I do not mean you ill.” The tone told me he was being genuine.  “It is only that I do not very much like—speaking.

“It’s good to work at things you don’t like doing,” I said, fixing what I could see of his face with a sardonic glare between stitches, but trying not to smile. “Builds character.”  

Another infinitesimal twitch of the lips before he dropped his head, strings of wavy black hair hiding his features entirely. “It is—a small bit more easy to manage, in French.”  

We’ll stick with the Français then,” I said, letting a smile show in my voice.

I finished the stitching and sterilization in a more comfortable silence. He took the hypodermic needle without so much as a wince, though I could see him watching it intently, sternly almost, as though not entirely sure what to make of it. From the country, indeed. 

You’re so much younger than I would have supposed.” 

“…I beg your pardon, Madame?” 

I could hardly fault him for being taken aback, as I had blurted it with absolutely no thought for context, let alone grace. I recovered as best I could, all things considered, focusing over-intently on wrapping the bandage around his forearm. “From a distance, I had assumed you to be far older.”

Honestly, for a man with such a beard and posture, that default manner that could charitably be described as cantankerous, it was alarming to find that not only was he not middle-aged, but he couldn’t possibly be older than— 

“Thirty? At most?”

Thereabouts.” After a pause, he added with a shrug. “I am far older in spirit, Madame.”  

I made him promise to come see me in a few days so I could see how the healing was progressing and give him more antibiotic if need be. He nodded, then stood and shrugged back into his coat (Lord, was he huge), and was just beginning to move toward the doorway, when—

“Are you well-treated here, M. Danton?”  Why could I not keep my bloody mouth shut tonight??

“Why is it that you ask such a question of me, Madame?” Though I still could barely see his face through the hair, I could hear the wariness in his voice. 

“You just seem…” I struggled to find the word in French, to express my concern without giving offense. “…..hunted.” 

Yes, a beast at bay. That’s what I had discerned and yet been unable to name in those vague, distant glances across camp: the utter wrongness in the sight of a man so tall and strong keeping his head low, avoiding eye contact, as though cowering before an invisible blow. Then there was this slash to the arm…

He caught me looking at the bandage, so I summoned my courage enough to ask directly, “Is someone bothering you? Hurting you?” 

No.” He relaxed, and I saw his throat muscles working.  “No, it truly was a rusted nail; an accident, entirely my own.” He inclined his head in acknowledgment of the first statement. “And my manners and ways are mine as well, Madame. Of my own choosing, I mean to say. Better, it is, that I keep to myself.

There was nothing morose in the way he said it, nothing maudlin or self-pitying.

 ….but it still was so very sad. 

Nonetheless,” he added quite suddenly, one hand on the tent flap, “I thank you for having asked.” He gave a graceful bow and said in heavily-accented English before vanishing off into the night: “You ‘ave a kind ‘eart, Nurse Randall.”


Strange, yes. But not as bad as all that. 

-CEBR




5 1 9


Ye touched me, today, mo nighean donn. 

Spoke to me. Looked at me. Stopped my beating heart. 

You were supposed to go off-duty at eight. I let that damned wound go untended all the day because I was waiting for when I kent you’d be away and abed. I couldn’t take the chance of it being you. God above knows I meant for us never once to come face-to-face in this camp.

More than a year since I ran up the hill after ye and the world went black; more than a year of trying to find my way in your world; of trying to find youthese last months of staying hidden in plain sight that ye never should see my face…. All undone by a rusted nail and your damned heedless self working at all hours instead of taking to your damned bed. And yet…. ye always did see fit to undermine my plans, my wife. Mo ghraidh. 

….Lord, and you’re so young, Sorcha; so heartbreakingly young, and it makes me want to weep. And yet I weep still more to have witnessed with my own eyes and ears that you’re exactly the same. Even now, at three-and-twenty, you’ve the same fire that I myself have known in you, that same brilliance and compassion and—

Jesus. 

Oh, God, Claire. 

From a distance, keeping to my duties, I have been able to separate myself from it all; keep myself and my thoughts in check by mere will, knowing that it is my place only to watch over you, never in any circumstance to know you or seek you out.  But so close to ye today, mo chridhe, SO CLOSE with you touching me, that deepest part of yourself reaching out to heal and care for me, even in disguise, even though ye dinna yet know me— It took all my strength not to take ye in my arms and crush you to my heart.

I long for you, mo nighean donn. I long for my wife; to hold ye again; to speak all my heart to ye. My truest friend. 

And yet, beyond longing, there is that uttermost of terrors that fills me day and night. 

I wait for this war to end—this war of unspeakable horrors, the like of which I could never have fathomed—and still I dread the sounding of that last all-clear. At least here, now (and for three years more, at the least) I have a place in your world. I can watch over ye, see your face each and every day, if only for a moment from afar, and be able to close my eyes at night only because I ken that you are safe. 

But when the fighting has ceased, when ye leave France, I shall have to bid you yet another farewell….silently, this time, unseen….and hope that in April of 1948—

Pray with all my soul that you and the bairn make it to April of 1948. 

That you won’t be— That you haven’t already been—? or that you aren’t now—?

Lost among the years. As I have been.  

Unpredictable Pt. 2

Requested: Nope

Alright homies, here we have it, a part two that was requested by all you lovely readers out there. I just want to say thank you first of all for liking it that much?? It means a lot.

I also found a song you should listen to while reading this one, it might put you in the feels we don’t know ;)

Also, please give me feedback! It’s really appreciated! And maybe, just maybe I’ll consider doing a part three to this imagine if people genuinely want it, so let me know.

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Description: Your brother is Harrison Osterfield, and your his younger sister (by like a few months, which he always teases you about which results in you both arguing), Tom is Harrison’s best friend, you’ve known him forever, but recently you started to feel different around him, making you rethink everything and worry about what Harrison would do if he found out the truth.

Warnings: Swearing, mention of sex.. oops.

Word Count: 2,357

A/N: It’s almost 3am, and yeah.. You’re going to get hit with feels, I might be sinning, we don’t know.

Originally posted by underoosforspidey

It had been exactly two weeks, three days, an hour and fifteen minutes since your ’incident’ with Tom in the kitchen that morning, but it wasn’t like you were counting or anything, right?

Since that morning, or what is more appropriate, night with Tom, things have been a bit strange.

Every time he’d come over to your house, he’d do his best to avoid you, and you weren’t going to lie, it pissed you off. He was treating you like you didn’t exist, and you were getting tired of it real fast.

“Hey Haz, is Tom coming by later?” You asked one morning, walking into the kitchen, starling Harrison.

“Uh, I think so, we’re supposed to go over some lines, why?” He looked at you skeptically, making you shrug your shoulders as you sipped your coffee.

“Just wondering, I haven’t seen him in a while, that’s all.” You gave a vague answer, knowing it wouldn’t tip off Harrison to anything other than you just missed the guy.

You watched your brother give a hesitant, but approving nod, making you relax slightly, you hadn’t been caught, yet.

You took this time to layout your plan in your head, it was time to shake things up a bit, but you couldn’t help but glance over at your brother.

You noticed Harrison observing your outfit, giving you an unpleasant look at how you were dressed, you gave a sly smile, you had just woken up, so you were still in your nightwear.

“Y/N, don’t you have anything other than that to wear, especially when someone is coming over?” Harrison groaned, rubbing his face with his hands in frustration.

“What? I like to let my friends breathe, sue me.” You fired back, making Harrison roll his eyes at your comment, you really were his sister.

“Just, cover up, for the love of god.” He muttered, walking out of the kitchen and into the family room, making you laugh quietly to yourself.

You sat in the kitchen, eating your breakfast Harrison had made you, before you heard the all too familiar doorbell ring.

“Y/N, I got it.” Harrison yelled, but you were already sprinting to the door, which confused the hell out of your brother.

You opened the door, revealing Tom who’s eyes widened at the sight of you, he wasn’t expecting you to be the one to open it, especially not in the outfit you were currently wearing.

“Hey Tom, surprised to see me, or my friends?” You smirked, watching as he struggled to keep his eyes focused on yours.

“I was expecting Harrison, not you.” He hissed, making you laugh at how he was acting.

“See that’s the thing, I’m unpredictable, you won’t ever see me coming.” You winked, before stepping aside to let him enter the house.

Tom bit his lip hard, walking past you as he went to search for Harrison, mentally cursing you for causing so many problems already.

“Hey man, you made it!” Harrison grinned, patting Tom on the back as they wandered into the family room, cracking open a few beers before they started going over lines.

You heard them laughing and talking about the script, making you smile to yourself.

You didn’t know how this happened, you used to see Tom as just Harrison’s best friend, but ever since that night, things changed, and your viewpoint for Tom did too.

You noticed things you never did before, like the way his nose would crinkle when he laughed, or the way his hair would be curly in the front and wavy in the back some days, or when his face would become a rosy pink color if he got embarrassed.

It was then that you realized you no longer saw Tom as just your brothers best friend, but someone way more than that, someone that you truly wanted, someone that you needed.

You knew it was going to be dangerous since Tom was your brothers best friend, and there was no way in hell Harrison would ever be okay with him dating you, let alone probably even hugging you in front of him.

You looked yourself over in your mirror, a small smirk on your lips as you walked down to the kitchen, purposely making noise to gather their attention, and you just wanted to mess with Harrison.

“For the love of god, Y/N, please stop with whatever you’re doing, we’re trying to practice.” Harrison shouted, making you laugh at his reaction, it was always very simple to piss him off.

“Actually, Haz I need to ask you something.” You entered the family room, watching as Harrison looked at you curiously, and Tom visibly freeze at the sound of your footsteps.

“My friends are setting me up on a date tonight, and I know last time I disobeyed you, so rather than lying, I thought I’d just let you know.” You shrugged, a smile playing on your lips as Harrisons eyes widened, his head shaking in disapproval.

“No way, there’s no way in hell I’m letting you go out there and do god knows what and come back drunk and shit like last time.” Harrison stood up, walking over to you, placing his hands on your shoulder.

“I’m not five years old Haz, I can take care of myself.” You patted his cheek, making him swat your hands away.

“Y/N, you’re too young to date, I won’t allow it.” Harrison declared, making you burst out laughing, surprising Harrison and Tom.

“I can do what I want Haz, and who I want.” You winked, making Harrison’s face pale, and Tom’s eyes widen as he turned to look at you, your eyes locking for a split second.

“Since that’s settled, I’ll see you all later, I have a date to go on.” You smiled innocently, running back up to your room, hearing Harrison swearing like a sailor.

You sat down in your chair, putting on some music, it was time to show who was in charge, and make Harrison extremely unhappy.

Gonna wear that dress you like,

Skin-tight,

Do my hair up real, real nice,

Cause I just wanna look good for you.

You grooved around to the music, doing exactly what the song said, you decided to curl your hair, letting the loose curls hit your shoulders as you put on your favorite tight black dress, and man was it tight.

One look in the mirror and you knew you were going to have all eyes on you, and you knew for a fact one of them would be Tom’s.

You looked at your phone, seeing a message from your friends, letting you know they were at your house. Your heart fluttered, this was it, it was time to make a statement.

You walked down the stairs, your heels clicking against the wood flooring, signaling you were leaving.

“Oh my god, what the fuck are you wearing? Oh my god.” Harrison shouted, his eyes wide with horror as he saw his sister descending from the stairs.

You gave a small smirk, making Harrison glare at you, but you simply blew a kiss at him, making him groan in frustration.

Tom soon appeared beside him, his eyes raking over your body until he met your eyes, which were already looking at him.

You gave a wink at him, making him glare at you, he knew exactly what you were doing, it didn’t take much for him to figure you out.

“Y/N, there is no way I’m letting you go out like that.” Harrison stood in front of you, but you simply shrugged your shoulders.

“Too late.” You smiled, giving Tom one last look, before exiting the house and off with your friends to your blind date.

“How could she do this to me? She literally wants me to die.” Harrison yelled, running his fingers through his hair messily.

But Tom on the other hand couldn’t stop thinking about you being on a date with someone that wasn’t him, he knew it was wrong of him to think that way of you, you were Harrison’s sister, but you had been provoking him all day and he was tired of it.

Tom followed Harrison into the kitchen, where he was drinking away his anger, which Tom soon joined him in on, all he could think about was you in that black tight dress, the dress that showed a little too much.

Your friends had put you on a blind date with a guy named Tyler, you had to admit he was attractive, but not even close to how attractive Tom was.

You both had dinner, which you found pretty pleasant, you weren’t disappointed, Tyler was a gentleman, that you liked, you both had nice conversations, but there was a part you were missing, you needed the challenge, and you knew the one person who gave it to you.

The dinner date soon ended, Tyler had convinced you to hangout with him for a few hours, which obviously lead into a tiny make out session, and a few hickeys here and there.

Time passed quickly, and you soon decided to leave, knowing you’d be dead if you came home later than midnight like before.

Tyler dropped you off at your house, you walked in quietly, doing your best to not get noticed, but you weren’t as sneaky as you thought you were being.

“Where the hell have you been? Do you know what time it is?” Harrison started scolding you, making you roll your eyes, he really did treat you like you were five.

“I expected you home earlier since it was just a date an- WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT!” Harrison yelled, rushing down the stairs, noticing your hickeys all over your neck.

“A gift?” You shrugged, looking at your shoes, unable to meet Harrisons eyes.

“We’re so talking about this in the morning, I can’t handle this right now. My own sister.. good lord.” Harrison muttered, wandering into the kitchen, making you laugh quietly.

You took of your heels, walking up the stairs, letting out a sigh as you saw all the red and purple marks on your neck.

“You know you have some nerve wearing that dress?” A voice spoke up, startling you as you spun around, only to be met face to face with Tom.

“How did you get in here Tom?” You questioned, walking up to him, as he smirked slightly.

“You leave your window unlocked, it’s like you were asking me to come in.” He grinned, making you roll your eyes this time.

“Now, who said it was alright for you to go on this date huh? To let some random guy mark you? That should of been me, me Y/N.” Tom spoke lowly, making your heart beat so fast you felt it in your throat.

“I don’t even care if you’re Harrison’s sister anymore, I want you, I need you. Now.” He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest, making your eyes widen.

“Then what are you waiting for? Leave this dress a mess on the floor.” You whispered, seeing Tom’s eyes darken for the first time, making your stomach do a flip.

You knew there was no going back now, and only time would tell till Harrison found out what you two were hiding.