to the lovely anon who requested this. :) here is the dk smut that you have requested, i really hope it satisfied you. if it didn’t then i’m so so sorry. we will all work on improving our writing skills so bear with us! i don’t know how you want seokmin so we made it like this instead. why not fuck the principal? i mean, it still counts as fucking your teacher hehe (IT WAS ALL ADMIN KENVY’S IDEA I JUST HALPED.) :D you guys have been making us so happy and we hope you look forward to our future works. thank you all, we love you all so much.
This is part one of the second installment to my ‘This Ends Tonight’ series. Like the first original story that was six parts, this will also be around six parts and be in order, not in the form of snapshots or vignettes. This second part takes place nine years after part one and will see Aisling and Ivar finally becoming parents and explore some of the details of their struggles and heartaches through backstory and flashbacks. It is going to be pretty angsty. I didn’t plan on doing a part two, but I fell so in love with my OC that I just couldn’t let the story go. I have a lot of this already down in rough drafts and have been working on for a while, so hopefully I won’t be leaving you guys hanging this time. I hope you guys enjoy it.
Aisling sat staring absently into the fire, worrying the corner of a handkerchief over and over in her hands. It was well beyond 2 a.m. and as had become the norm, she couldn’t sleep. It had been so ever since Ivar had left out for that summer’s raid. One would think that after eight summers apart, that she would have gotten used to being separated from her husband by now, but it never got easier…and this time was different.
“Have you thought of any names yet, my queen?” Eira asked, breaking Aisling from her daze. Aisling turned and gazed thoughtfully out the window, pondered the question over in her head. Had she really not thought of any names yet? Not even one?
“No…not really.” she finally answered, turning her gaze back to the hearth, “I guess I am just waiting for Ivar to get home before I…”
Her voice trailed off and she lost her train of thought at the reminder of her husband’s absence. Eira placed another log on to the fire before looked back over her shoulder, “You miss him very much, don’t you? I know it must be hard for you, what with your condition and everything.” she smiled, gesturing towards the Queen’s stomach, heavy with child. Aisling sucked in a shaky breath and felt her throat begin to tighten as hot tears welled behind her eyes and threatened to spill out and burn her cheeks. She was an emotional wreck lately, anything and everything had her crying at the drop of a hat. A great sob escaped her and she covered her face with her hands.
Eira’s smiling face faded fast into a frown, “Oh, please don’t cry, I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.” she fretted, hopping up from the fire to embrace her Queen. The servant girl held her and comforted her with cooing words, rubbing small circles into her back, seeing her through yet another onslaught of tears, just as she had done on so many nights before.
Aisling often thought that her slave was far too good to her and she hated to refer to her as such. Over the years they had developed a strong bond, deeper than a friendship even. The girl was more like the sister that she had never had growing up. Eira had only been sixteen when they had torn her away from her family, it was during the last trip to England, the one on which Aisling had accompanied Ivar. The entire experience had taken a great toll on Aisling, she hadn’t wanted to go and she hadn’t been back since. Going into it, she had thought she’d already seen her fair share of violence and death, but she had been wrong. She’d brought a new found fear of her husband home with her like a souvenir. Her love for him had not changed, but the fear had rooted itself deep and it festered. It was still there deep down inside. Seeing him so filled with rage, seeing him fight in such a trance, charging into battle with a psychotic like frenzy, tearing people to shreds, all the while with a smile on his face. Nothing could have prepared her for that.
Feeling herself calm down and her sobs easing into small sniffles, Aisling gently pushed at Eira’s shoulders and gave her a weak smile. “You look exhausted dear, I feel awful keeping you up all hours of the night like this all the time. It isn’t fair, I’m sorry.” she sniffled, wiping her eyes with the backs of her hands.
Eira lifted a hand to Aisling’s cheek and wiped away a few stray tears,
“There is no need to apologize,” she smiled, “and besides, the king will be returning any day now and he will have you all to himself again. I shall quite miss our evenings together, I always do.”
“Why are you so good to me Eira? I have done nothing to deserve your friendship.”
Eiraknelt before Aisling and took her hands in her own,“Look at me.You have done nothing to deserve anything less than my friendship, My queen.”
“Now, I’m not quite so sure about that.” Aisling shifted uncomfortably in her chair and looked away. It wasn’t true. It was nice of her to say, but it wasn’t true. Not at all.
Aisling awoke with a start and nearly went tumbling out of the bed in a tangle of sheets, firs, and pillows.
“What? Huh?” she mumbled incoherently, she hadn’t felt like she had slept at all. Her eyes darted around the room several times before they focused and landed on Eira.
“I said there are boats arriving in the harbor my queen!” the girl squealed, jumping up and down, hardly able to contain her excitement. In her sleepy stupor, it took moment before Aisling registered the words and by the time she had, Eira was ripping the covers back and off and pulling Aisling from the bed.
“Come on, we must find you something lovely…that fits!” she giggled as she opened the wardrobe and started fingering through the garments.
Aisling sat down and laid back on the bed with a huff, “Must I really? Nothing will fit anyways, just grab me a coat.” she whined painfully.
Eira snapped her head around and gave Aisling an incredulous look, “Do forgive me my Queen, but he hasn’t seen you in months and quite honestly…”
“Quit honestly what?!” Aisling snapped, narrowing her eyes at the girl. Eira looked her up and down before opening her mouth to speak, but no words came out.
“Well go on now, say it.” Aisling pressed, leaning back on the pillows and crossing her arms and legs expectantly, “You have already started, so you might as well finish.”
The words rushed out so fast that they were barely understandable in the girl’s broken Norse, “You look like hel.”
She ducked just in time to miss the pillow Aisling sent sailing towards her head.
He was barely exiting the boat when she tackled him and she couldn’t hold back the sobs that wracked her as she threw her arms around her husband, the impact nearly knocking him to the ground. Holding onto his shoulders and pulling herself up on her tip toes, she pressed a flurry of frantic little kisses up his neck and across his throat.
Ivar raised his hands to her hair and tangled his fingers in it. They
pressed their foreheads together and gazed into each other’s eyes like a couple of love sick teenagers, each cupping the other’s face in their hands. Her eyes were wet with tears and his threatening the same. He wiped the tears from her cheeks and pressed his lips to each of her eyelids, showering her flushed face with kisses, shushing her softly and reminding her that she hadn’t lost him. He hadn’t been called to Odin’s hall just yet. When he kissed her she trembled and held onto him for dear life, like he was the only thing grounding her to the Earth. Reality faded and time seemed to slow to a stop as it always did when they were reunited.
“Freyja has finally blessed us, husband.” she mumbled breathlessly against his lips.
Ivar pulled back and disconnecting the kiss, giving her a questioning look. When she moved his hands from her hips and placed them on her stomach, his gaze fell south and his eyes widened. He splayed his hands out over her swollen belly and just stared silently. Studying her husband’s face, Aisling wasn’t quit sure what she saw there. Fear, joy, apprehension, worry, pride? Ivar could be hard to read, even for her, even after all these years and for a moment she felt worried.
Ivar had only been gone raiding for three months, but from the size of his wife’s stomach, she had to have been carrying at least twice that long. Her belly had never swollen to anywhere close to this size, seeing as none of their previous pregnancies had lasted much longer than one or two moon cycles. They had stopped counting and stopped trying after three or four, but there had been a few more pregnancies over the years, even though they had been careful. He couldn’t help but feel a little anxious. His entire world was about to change. Mixed in with all the joy, excitement and anticipation for the future, there was uncertainty, fear, and questions in the back of his mind. What if the they still lost the baby? Even worse, what if it turned out like him? Cursed. Deformed. Boneless. The previous losses had taken such an emotional toll on both himself and his wife, and not to mention, on their relationship, that Ivar feared they simply could not withstand yet another. His liver surely couldn’t, he had just started to get his little problem under control.
“Aren’t you happy my love?” she asked, begging his attention with the plead in her voice. He blinked a few times before finally looked up and meeting her eyes again.
“Y-yes of course I am happy, wife” he assured her with a smile, taking her face in his hands again and kissing her softly, “Of course I am.” Aisling wasn’t so convinced but she wasn’t going to press him, that could wait. Right now she just relieved that the God’s had returned him to her in one piece.
Sherlock Holmes waited outside of the door. He had called upon his brother, Mycroft, to find out where Doctor Hooper resided. Apparently, her parents had both passed when she was only sixteen, hence why there was never a coming out party for her. She had been residing with her cousin, Meena, and her husband, Gideon Wadsworth.
“Ah, hello, Mrs. Wadsworth, is Doctor Hooper available?” Sherlock asked.
“Are you that Holmes fellow?” Meena asked. “Because if you are, I’m afraid you are not welcome and will not be invited inside.”
“Well, good news then, I do not wish to enter; I only wish to ask if Molly would take a stroll with me. I need to explain,” Sherlock informed her. “I need to apologize.” He paused a moment. “Please, Mrs. Wadsworth; I misworded some things and it might quite possibly kill me if I cannot do anything to make up for it.”
“I’ll let her know,” Meena said. “If you would be so kind to wait in the sitting room.”
“Thank you,” Sherlock nodded. He waited as was asked of him. Mere seconds passed when he heard Molly’s voice down the hall.
“If you think I am going to give that infuriating man one more second of my time, you are mistaken!” she huffed, stopping short when her eyes landed on the very man she was disgusted with.
“I am sorry to have wasted your time, Mrs. Wadsworth,” Sherlock spoke solemnly. “Good day to you, Doctor Hooper. I apologize for my behaviour earlier.” He began to walk towards the door in defeat, his heart breaking with every step he took. Upon grabbing the door knob, he felt a small hand on his arm.
“Thirty minutes; that is all the time I am giving you to make things right, Mister Holmes,” Molly spoke firmly.
“That is all the time I need, Doctor Hooper,” Sherlock replied. Molly noticed the way his eyes lit up. She slid her arm through his and allowed him to lead her out of the door.
Too far north for totality, but we still get a 78%-coverage partial eclipse.
First picture taken a few minutes before peak with a plain smartphone camera, second picture taken a few minutes after peak with the same camera pointed through three pairs of sunglasses simultaneously.
I learned that eclipse photography should be left to the professionals, but hey, at least I have some souvenirs even if you can’t actually tell out of context why I was taking these pictures. (When I look for it, it seems like it might be a bit less glare-y in the part covered by the moon? But that might be wishful thinking.)
As for non-camera observation, I didn’t have any proper gear (I realised we were in the partial-eclipse zone not very far in advance). I settled for a couple very quick glances at the sun through two pairs of sunglasses. (As always, the dose makes the poison. The damage from that dosage level was transient and has already faded away, same as it did the couple times I glanced at the sun as a kid.) In those instants, I just managed to register that there was a clearly visible dark patch covering the top-left portion.
The general quality of the light was within normal variation.
All in all, would have been more fun with eclipse glasses and a more suitable camera, but pretty good for what would otherwise have been a normal afternoon. And I have now officially Seen a Solar Eclipse.
Request:@slythendorbitchHi there! :) could you do a story where newt x reader (Slytherin) are falling in love and he wants to kiss her but due to his nervousness everything goes awry? It should be so fluffy and cute and sweet that everyone dies haha
Notes: So fluffy it’s like clouds made out of whipped cream and marshmallow and butterbeer foam (I hope you don’t mind I left out the bit about everyone dying!).
Newt had asked you to tea with him at Madame Puddifoot’s for Valentine’s Day, which, all all Hogwarts students knew, meant things were really official.
Every year, as long as anyone could remember, Madame Puddifoot transformed her already doily-decked tea shop into a candied confection of pink and red. It made you feel slightly sick to your stomach, but you liked Newt far too much to let it stop you.
He was noticeable in his yellow-trimmed Hufflepuff cloak and his going-every-which-way reddish brown hair. Having grown substantially the previous summer, he seemed a head above the other students clustered around the entrance to the tea shop. Giving him a warm hug in greeting, you stepped in together, the door jangling happily, and you were immediately blasted blasted with the scent of strawberry shortcake and what could only be described as great-grandmother perfume.
The “Valentine’s Day Special” included a small tower of sweets for each couple (themed, of course), a special blooming rose tea that turned the drink glittery as the petals opened, and a small, fluffy, white rabbit that sniffed all your crumbs in docile delight, and whose only purpose seemed to make patrons continually go, “Awww!”
You and Newt looked stole glances at each other as you both worked through the sweets at your table, occasionally smiling and commenting on how tasty they were.
You noticed that Newt had a puff of whipped cream stuck to his chin, “You have a dab of cream…just there,” you demonstrated on yourself.
He wiped it away quickly, mumbling thanks, and looked quite flustered.
“I must say, I’m happy you decided to come with me. Thank you,”
“Of course, Newt. I’m glad you asked me here.”
The words exchanged were simple, but you both felt your hearts warming more with each moment. You had crushes in past, of course, but this was different for the first time. This felt like your best friend and crush were the same person: one wonderful parcel–Newt.
He reached across the table and took your hand, fingers fumbling awkwardly for a moment, “I-I suppose by now, that you…that you know I really fancy you.”
He’d said it for months, but you pressed your lips together and politely nodded. He looked so earnest.
“Well, since it’s Valentine’s Day and all, I was wondering if maybe you would allow me the honor of being your Valentine, and…”
Looking a bit woozy, he scooted his chair around the table to be slightly closer to you. “Are you alright, Newt?” you asked.
“Yes. Yes, I’m perfectly fine,” color rose up his cheeks to his forehead.
You thought Newt was lovely, but sometimes so terribly bad at articulating himself so you decided to take over, “What do you want to tell me? You’re making me nervous as well.” You added a small laugh. As a Slytherin, your no-nonsense practicality wanted him to get on with it.
Quickly he said, “So sorry. Please don’t be nervous, (Y/N). I was just wondering if I, well,” he filled his lungs, “May be allowed to kiss you?” He gave you a timid but hopeful grin. Your heart tried to break out of your ribcage.
“Yes!” you replied decidedly, “But, er, here?”
You both looked around at the dozen or so other couples within close proximity making nauseating cooing and kissing noises. You felt like you were in a dizzying washing machine of adolescent love.
“Erm, yes, shall we go outside?” Newt and you threw back the last of your tea, you plucked another biscuit from the table, and both of you wove your way through the maze of tables and saccharine decor to the door.
You walked in silence.
“So…how shall we, I guess, do it?”
“I honestly hadn’t planned quite this far,” he said under his breath.
“How about we…” you looked around at the students wandering from shop to shop, “How about we just take a nice little stroll?”
“Let’s,” he agreed.
You felt Newt’s hand slip into yours, and squeezed back a few times playfully. He looked down at you, smiling a rather goofy grin. A few weeks ago, you remember how he had confessed to you that you had been one of the first people to be patient enough to deal with his gracelessness. He sometimes didn’t know the right way to say something, or how to act, but his lack of tact didn’t bother you at all. In fact, it usually let you feel more free in taking charge of situations. The two of you just seemed to work.
The sun had begun starting the futile work at melting all the snow that had fallen, causing it to glisten and sparkle, and the icicles to shine like prisms. Occasionally, a student would throw you a certain look–A Hufflepuff and a Slytherin? Madness–but it didn’t bother you in the slightest, and Newt didn’t even seem to notice.
The both of you walked along the main road, stopping now and then to look at quaint storefronts, but never dropping hands. Newt seemed to be avoiding the whole kissing topic, and every time he looked at you, you felt your heartbeat pick up steam, only to have it die down again when he mentioned the litter of kneazles that was found taking shelter in Greenhouse 2.
Eventually, the two of you wandered all the way down to Hogsmeade Station. The Hogwarts Express sat like a resting beast, exhaling the occasional puff of steam. Standing aside it provided a relative bit of privacy, as most students were still down in the village.
“Well,” you said, coming to a stop.
“Well,” Newt echoed, adding a nervous laugh “I guess this is the end of the line.”
“Ha, ha,” you laughed in a teasing tone, getting restless, “So…”
Newt turned to face you, looking conspicuously down at your lips and then back up to your eyes.
“I’ve never really done this before,” he admitted sheepishly.
“Just, erm, put your face closer to mine,” you tried.
“I know that,” he was outwardly disappointed himself, as he seemed to be cringing at his own mistakes. It was simultaneously painful and irresistible.
“Maybe it’s best we do it at a count,” you offered.
He nodded, and you took both his hands in yours, bringing them up and down with each count,
You breathed “one” into his mouth, as he brought his lips to yours with surprising fearlessness. He dropped your hands and held you gently by the waist as your hand creeped upwards to caress his cheek. It was an exploratory kiss, considerate, but daring. You felt the warmth that had built in your chest suddenly gush out to the tips of every limb.
As you pulled apart slowly, he suddenly let go of your hips, as if he had done something that crossed a line.
“How…how was that for you?” his eyes searched your face.
“It was perfect,” you said honestly.
“Thank goodness,” he sighed, “I thought I’d botched it all. As usual.”
“Mmm, maybe a little,” you said teasingly, “But perfect would be boring. This…is memorable.”
You tilted his head back down to yours for a much longer, and certainly more relaxed, kiss.
My dearest brother! I fear for you hugely!! I fear that someone may be plotting an attempt on your life !! You see I received a rather odd note regarding yourself, "before it is too late" it said ! As well as this I mention papa receiving a similar note ! "I'm going to KILL your son". Oh dear brother! Please be careful, I feel that a storm is brewing... Stay safe dearest brother, Ever your affectionate, Amelia F.R
My dear sister, I admit I am in the most Dreadful of states - but having already survived one foul attempt on my life, such as it is at this Lowest and most appalling condition, I fear I must hazard my life to defy those Evil Forces with have sought to finish my existence. I am very deeply touched - forgive my poor hand - but I do indeed to stay quite safe - you shall see if we shall not triumph in the end! Oh, most beloved sister, that you would think to warn me of such things brings tears to my eyes!
"Bob?" "Yes Allan?" "I do believe my penny whistle is hardening." "Is that so?" "Indeed." "Does it need me to blow it?" "Very much so." "Shall I fetch the bird then?" "Please do." "Did you ejaculate?" "Quite quite." "Splendid." "Bob?" "Yes Allan?" "May I shag you with the shagitude of a thousand virgins?" "My dear Allan, you already are."
Fenris reluctantly glances up from his book and over to Hawke who plops herself down on the mattress next to him, looking terribly exhausted considering she’d only been helping Orana shop for groceries. Which usually just consisted of her eating a fresh loaf of bread while watching Orana run around the market.
“Do you want me to fetch you Lady Tinkleton?”
“Not that kind of leaking.” She sniffs indignantly and then rubs her nose. “If it was… ugh, I can’t even think of a snarky reply.”
Fenris closes his book, sufficiently worried now. Hawke’s face is flushed and when he touches her forehead, her skins burns under his hand.
“You have a fever.” His statement comes out calm, yet his mind is reeling. Hawke never gets sick. Hangovers and related ailments, yes. The occasional stuffed nose and accompanying days of endless complaints, also yes. Bloody battle wounds that send his worry through the roof, yes, yes and yes. But this is new. And he’s not quite sure what to do. “Shall I get Anders.”
“It’s just the flu. I’ll just sleep it off.” Her eyes are unfocused and as she huffs out a breath he swears he can see the air rising from her as if they were outside in the freezing cold. Immediately, he pulls the blanket over her and fetches another one from the chair in the corner.
“How about some cold water. Hot water? Tea? Soup? Wine? No, probably no wine.” He hovers over her, wringing his hands but she simply shakes her head and huddles further under the blankets. Maybe she was right, maybe she just needed some sleep. He smoothes the hair from her face, adjusts her blankets even though they’re pretty adjusted already and then sits down on the bed, waiting for her to fall asleep.
Yes! Someone asked for it. I have been meaning to write forever now, but I would write a sentence then think to myself, Stewie, isn’t this weird? And I would quit. But not today. I shall do this! Please enjoy.
Did he know what was going on? No. Did he care? No. Was he scared for his life? …most likely. It was just a simple night at the beach. Or was it?
As you may know, college is HELLA expensive, so I need me some cash. 100% of the money you pay will be going towards funding my tuition next year so every little bit helps!
All the prices listed are basically for one character and every extra character you want me to draw will be $5. If you have any snazzy different styles you’d like me to try or other things that aren’t listed, feel free to shoot me an ask and we can discuss it!
You can email me at email@example.com so you can get exactly what you want!