live by faith not by sight

GoT S07E03 Thoughts

And here we go again.

As always, these are my rambling nonsensical thoughts on the episode, but disclaimer, my stream lagged so i missed maybe 30 seconds to maybe a minute of the episode. Let’s begin. 

Jon and Tyrion’s conversations had to be some of my favourite scenes from this episode. That shared smile between them when Jon first lands on Dragonstone and they greet each other was so pure. There is potential for a great friendship between them. They both have an understanding for each other that they don’t share with anyone else. Jon as a bastard and Tyrion as a dwarf. This was evident in earlier seasons too, but more so now that they have both found their places in the world. They respect each other, but they’re fighting for very different causes (and for different reasons) and I wonder if this fledgling friendship will become a point of contention for them later in the story.

Anyway, I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t say that one of my favourite scenes had to be Tyrion and Jon’s conversation about Sansa. What I loved about this scene was although it was fleeting, it still gave us Jonsa feels (if you’re inclined to read the scene this way anyhow). 

When Tyrion says, “does she miss me terribly?” Jon is very quiet and they let that silence play on long enough for it to be a significant marker in a conversation. Jon didn’t want to talk about it. It wasn’t an awkward silence; it was absolutely an annoyed, aggravated silence. And then what’s great is that Tyrion immediately went on the defensive and says that the marriage was never consummated. 

It’s a strange thing to say, especially when they were so friendly earlier. Wouldn’t it be safe to assume that if Jon had any suspicions that Tyrion had hurt/touched Sansa against her will that exchange would’ve gone very differently? There was clearly no need to mention it at all, but yet Tyrion did and Jon’s response was “I didn’t ask” in a clearly annoyed tone that suggested if this topic didn’t end soon someone was going to get choked out. Either Jon really hates the thought of Sansa with another man he turned into grumpy kitten Jon or he doesn’t want to think about his sister having sex at all. But bear with me here, if it’s the latter, why have this dialogue at all? There’s no narrative reasoning for this whatsoever unless Jonsa is a real possibility in the future and we’re supposed to continue to think about Jon, Sansa and ‘sex’ in the same line of thought.  

Okay, okay, admittedly my shipping goggles are on, but I still maintain the fact that it’s a weird piece of dialogue to have. If all they wanted to do was establish Sansa as a real political player, they could’ve cut that entire 2-3 lines out and just went straight into:

“She’s smarter than she lets on.”

“She’s starting to let on.”

And now that we’re onto the topic, I absolutely believe the mention of Sansa’s intelligence here serves two purposes. The first is to establish Sansa as a real political player here. She’s been underestimated by everyone in Westeros, but she’s far smarter than anyone gives her credit for (yes, even Jon).

In fact, jumping straight to Winterfell, you are given a whole scene of Sansa demonstrating that intelligence – not only in keeping everyone fed, but in keeping the soldiers protected. She understands what it takes to rule. But what I love about this sequence of scenes is Littlefinger praising her then going on to claim to know Cersei better than everyone and Sansa just shutting him down, saying she knows her better. Once again, we’re being forced to consider all that Sansa’s learned from Cersei. She just didn’t learn how to play the game but she learned Cersei herself. If anyone can outplay Cersei, we’re being led to believe it’s Sansa. 

Why I think this is important is how this episode also demonstrated that Cersei is once again one of the smartest and most devious rulers in Westeros. She completely outmaneuvered Tyrion, Daenerys and Olenna. People think her ‘madness’ from losing her children will make her weaker, but she’s still as shrewd as ever. She is very much Tywin’s daughter, but she’s much more ruthless. Tyrion may be smart, but thus far? He’s not as smart as his sister. 

But who is? 

Well, there’s a ‘queen’ in the North who is, and the more I think about it, the more I think this quote is actually referring to Sansa: 

“Aye. Queen you shall be… until there comes another, younger and more beautiful, to cast you down and take all that you hold dear.”

Because Cersei is right. Dany is a revolutionary, not a ruler. She can conquer and free slaves, but she doesn’t know how to rule. She’s not nearly as intelligent as Cersei in playing the Westerosi game, but Sansa is. She’s learned from the very best after all. Whether I’m wrong or right, I am convinced Sansa’s role in this war will be far greater than just ruling Winterfell in Jon’s stead. 

Its second purpose is basically to reaffirm Jon’s faith and trust in Sansa and her judgement. But what I found interesting is the way he says it is almost in an exasperated way, like he knows she is and she continues to “twist him in a way no one else can” because she’s too smart for her own good. But alas, the shipping goggles are on, so take that what you will. 

Now onto the big anticipated meeting. Honestly, I enjoyed Jon and Dany’s interactions. The juxtaposition of them as individuals and rulers were pronounced in the last episode, but they were even more glaringly so in this one. While Dany continues to talk about her rightful place and her indignation that he refuses to acknowledge what is hers, Jon continues to fight for his people and the war up North. I mean that’s just the thing, isn’t it? Every mention of Dany being this benevolent ruler who cares about the people doesn’t actually come from Dany. She doesn’t actually say she wants to save the people of Westeros. It’s always someone else because maybe, just maybe it’s not really her true purpose here in Westeros. Yes, I don’t believe she would be indifferent to the loss of innocent lives, but if it was the only way to get her to that throne, wouldn’t you think she’d do it? Wouldn’t Dany say ‘to hell with all of it’ and fly her dragons and burn everything in sight for that throne? If it was her only option, she would choose herself over the people. 

Hell, she even says it. After her speech about all she’s overcome, she says the only way she’s endured any of that was because of her faith in herself. While it’s a good speech if you take out the context, Dany’s survived and persevered this long because of her unwavering belief in her birthright, which was to rule on the Iron Throne. Everything else comes second to that. And I refuse to believe that the ultimate hero of the story is someone who believes themselves a hero and entitled to a kingdom. 

Whereas Jon was thrust into his position. He would choose the people over himself and that difference was emphasised by this quote they just had to repeat twice: 

“…took a knife in the heart for his people.”

Also, the fact that Jon cut Davos off before he could blab about Jon’s resurrection and Dany’s fixation on this feels highly foreboding. It’s definitely going to come back up, but in what way, I don’t know. 

Objectively speaking, I could see how Jon3rys could be hinted in this episode, as Jon and Dany come to understand each other, but personally, I believe it’s a tentative alliance at best that borders on an impasse rather than actual understanding. Right now, they can work because Dany has bigger fish to fry and Jon needs dragonglass. But when their objectives clash? What then? You could even see this opposition highlighted in the way they were filmed on that cliff. They’re standing together yet they’re facing opposite directions. They spend far more of that scene looking away from one another than looking eye to eye. Having their first one-on-one interaction being filmed in the light is also quite telling. The sun can be a symbolic source of goodness, but it can also be an oppressive force. Actually, it made me think of this quote from Albert Camus’ The Stranger: 

“The sky was already filled with light. The sun was beginning to bear down on the earth and it was getting hotter by the minute. I don’t know why we waited so long before getting under way. I was hot in my dark clothes […] it was inhuman and oppressive.“

Jon is a man of the North. His season is winter. I’ve said in previous metas that having Jon’s resurrection coincide with Winter’s arrival was symbolilc. Where usually in literature winter represents a time of stagnancy or even regression in the hero myth, for Jon, it represents rebirth and growth. Winter is a time for Starks. Having such sunlight bearing down on them in this scene (looking more like summer than winter) and Jon still wearing his furs seems to forewarn perhaps bad consequences with this alliance. 

For my Jonsa shippers, this is the exact opposite in how Jon and Sansa’s scenes are shot. They’re almost always in dimly lit areas or surrounded by candlelight, and snow is usually falling. Their reunion also coincided with Winter’s coming, so don’t despair if you are over Jon3rys meeting. 

Speaking of how scenes are shot, Sansa and Bran’s reunion couldn’t be more of a stark (ha ha) difference to Jon and Sansa’s. Yes, he was never going to run towards her, but she didn’t nuzzle him. I’ve always said the choice of having Sansa nuzzle Jon’s cheek was a bizarre one. It’s just odd. People don’t nuzzle their family members. But maybe she wasn’t in the nuzzling mood, fine. Go to the godswood scene though and there just seems to be such a distance between Sansa and Bran. I think that’s partially Bran being the Three-Eyed Raven as well because the distance was also entirely about who he is now as well.

Anyway, Clearly in the books Bran’s importance and power is more obvious, so they had to demonstrate somehow that Bran as the Three-Eyed Raven can see everything. But why does he bring up Sansa’s wedding? If they wanted to show off his power, they could have him bring anything else up, so why her wedding? Why bring up Ramsay at all? Shouldn’t Bran know better than that? Especially to tell her she looks beautiful that day after already implicitly saying he knows what Ramsay did to her. It feels unnecessarily cruel for Bran who, while seemingly distant, does love her. It has to serve a purpose for them to write that in. Perhaps foreshadowing a future wedding in the cards for Sansa? Perhaps a fake one to LF? Or maybe something further down the line where it’ll be the opposite of everything she had with Ramsay. No godswood, no beautiful white dress, no snow falling, but with someone she loves and who loves her. I don’t know but I’m just speculating here. 

Moving on to my favourite scene in the episode though: Cersei with Elaria. Honestly, Lena Heady is a phenomenal actress. Everyone is so focused on Cersei being this horrible evil villain, but you forget the real nuances to her character. When she asks Elaria why she killed Myrcella, it was delivered in such a vulnerable tone. You really, truly get a glimpse of the heartbroken, grieving mother who just tried to do her best for her children (whether that best was actually good or not), but then immediately after, you get the vindictive, cunning and formidable Cersei as she kisses Elaria’s daughter. It was amazing. Horrible but amazing. 

Second favourite scene had to be Olenna’s. What is there to say? She is the Dowager Queen of Badass Bitchery and Snarky Comebacks. Give me a great, complex female villain any day! I wouldn’t even call Olenna a villain tbh. But what I mean is I would 150% take morally grey or morally corrupt female characters over your atypical one-dimensional girl-next-door ones any day, week or month.  

Stray thoughts that I don’t have time/energy to write about:

Did anyone else get flirty vibes between Tyrion and Dany? 

And does anyone think Jorah’s “perhaps our paths will cross again” sound entirely too foreboding for Sam?

Breastfeeding. One Shot

I know you’ve hinted at it throughout many of your stories that while breastfeeding Brianna or faith, that Jamie also partakes in the feeding. I’d like a oneshot that shows this, and shows the intimacy it allows the two of them and also the three of them as a whole. Thanks! Xx

Claire often fed Faith alone, the solitude calling to her as if her own 20th Century moral value still existed beneath the surface of her new 18th Century self. She didn’t like to be watched and she didn’t like the maids interference in the private time with her daughter.

Jamie, however, often crept into their chambers. Much to Mrs Crook’s disapproval.

Knowing he was there watching over them both gave Claire a distinct feeling of warmth and she basked in his attention along with the small sounds of pleasure illicit by Faith as she suckled hungrily.

Their journey back to health and happiness had been a long one. For a while it had been touch and go with Faith. But as small as she was, she was still strong. A true Fraser at heart. Fighting through the stressful premature birth and then the long journey from France to Scotland, the wean had shown a stunning amount of Scots spirit, growing gradually by the second and surprising nearly everyone who’d thought it impossible for her to live.

“You don’t have to sit in the shadows, you know.” Claire called out to Jamie, letting her shift fall fully open as Faith’s tiny hand gripped at the sheer fabric.

Already rendered almost immobile with the beautiful sight that lay before him, Jamie could barely answer Claire as he shuffled forward slightly trying to get a better view of his glorious wife.

Noticing his reticence, Claire lay further backwards in the window seat, her legs parting and her shift sliding along her creamy white thighs as she rocked her sleepy daughter in her arms.

Faith’s eyes opened and closed slowly as she gazed up at her mother, watching drowsily as Claire ran a warm finger across her brow. She was fighting sleep, Claire could tell.

Moved by the display of lasciviousness as well as her endearing love for Faith, Jamie licked his lips in anticipation. He kent that once she was done that would be room for him to crawl between her thighs and…

Stopped dead in his tracks, Jamie’s thoughts were stalled as he felt Claire’s eyes upon him once more. Satisfied that Faith was now firmly asleep, she’d watched as Jamie appeared lost in devious thought. She could almost pluck the thoughts from his head. A smile pulled at her lips as she moved the angle of Faith’s pliant body as she slept on.

“Shall I…” Jamie asked, holding his arms out for his daughter as Claire gently passed her over knowing what he needed almost before he did.

She remained exposed to him, her nipples still pinked from where Faith had been suckling her. Resting her head softly against the exposed brick that lined the window seat, she let her arms drop, her hands lying palm up either side of her legs as she waited for Jamie to come to her.

Unable to resist, Jamie covered Faith and bent to place a kiss on her forehead before turning back to see Claire, her breastbone rising and falling gently, poised and ready.

“Can I?” He began, a hint of trepidation in his tone, “I ken I asked afore Faith was born and ye thought it a bonnie idea, but do ye still? Will ye feed me…as you do our daughter?” There was a hint of longing in his voice, a slight judder where he thought the suggestion might be rebuked or be daft - but still the want was too prominent to ignore.

“What is between you and I, Jamie love?” Claire asked, her voice a hushed whisper in their quiet chambers. As she spoke she rolled her spine, forcing her chest forwards and calling Jamie closer with her body.

“Sae much, Claire,” he sighed in return, “so much I dinna think I have the words right now.”

“Then we can do anything…as one flesh.”

“Aye,” he mouthed, breathless with longing as he pulled the buckle of his belt free and let his kilt drop around his ankles. Stepping free of the billowing material, he knelt on the beginnings of the velvet cushions that lined the window, the outside of his thighs coming into contact with the outside of Claire’s as he shimmied up and between her legs. He wanted her, badly, but he left his shirt on, letting the thin cloth cover her bare middle as she reached to cradle his head to her breast.

Being careful to choose the opposite one to their daughter, Jamie licked boldly, his tongue tasting the sweet/sour mix of the milk that lingered on her puckered nipple. She tasted divine and that small sample alone coated his mouth causing him to moan around her.

“Jesus H…” Claire cried out breathlessly. The sensation of him taking from her rocketed through her, sending wondrous spasms up and down her spine.

Sealing his lips fully around her, Jamie started to suck in earnest, the vacuum created by his mouth rousing Claire in a way she could never have imagined. Jamie used the opportunity to slide his fingers down - through her soft curls - until he reached the damp centre of her. Crossing two fingers, he brushed them up and down, creating a friction that made Claire virtually weep above him.

The dual sensation of Jamie - his fingers almost inside her as his mouth fed greedily from her - caused Claire to feel weightless, and she slumped over him, curling her body around him as she dug her fingers deeper into his thick curls to keep him where he was.

“I want you, Jamie,” she gasped, her legs thrusting her hips ungraciously from the cushion beneath her arse, “I want you inside me whilst you…”

Holding her as carefully as he could, Jamie shimmied himself underneath Claire, making sure never to lose contact with her as he readjusted them so that she sat over him. With her nipple still fully inside his mouth, the fresh taste of her mother’s milk sliding effortlessly down his throat as he licked softly at her breast, he held her waist and hips solidly over his aching cock.

Leaning into him, Claire rocked herself backwards and forwards, slowly easing herself down over Jamie as he moaned needily around her. Every nerve was firing, her senses overloaded as he surrounded her every atom. She felt as though she were being torn apart from the inside, the subtle throb of her climax pulsating through her wanting bones as she took him fully inside her and then began to lift her hips only a little. Her shallow thrusts enabled her to keep him close, the feel of his thick pubic hair stimulating her - pushing her to the brink and he drained her.

Jamie felt warm. His insides seemed to glow as he slaked his thirst of her. Feeling her grip him tightly, he stopped suckling against her, his legs shaking with the pressure that had steadily grown within him.

“God I love ye, Claire,” he groaned, his hands guiding themselves along every nodule of his spine until his fingers hooked around her shoulders, locking her against him in the most erotic way. He could feel every inch of her, from collar bone to ankle as she cried out, jaggedly thrust her hips against him and then flopped down. She would have slid off him too had it not been for his sturdy grip.

Following her, he allowed himself to fall, the persistent throb of her dragging his pleasure from him as their hearts beat quickly in time with one another.

“Christ, saints save us,” Jamie cursed, his breath coming in short sharp pants as he began to regain some sort of awareness. Claire seemed still to be only semi-conscious, her eyes remaining steadfastly shut as she panted against his shoulder. “I didna think it would be like that.”

“One…flesh…” Claire sighed, her words almost slurred and elongated as she struggled to find the ones she needed to vocally communicate with Jamie, “love.”

“Aye,” Jamie returned, kissing the side of her head as he plucked her from the window seat and carried her to their bed, laying her flat against the sheets as he crawled alongside her. “One flesh, mo nighean donn. Sleep well.”

Nuzzling her nose into the hollow between his chin and his shoulder, Claire wrapped her arms around him, her tender breasts nudging his naked chest as she fell deeply asleep in his arms, satisfied and safe. “Blood of my blood,” she sighed, the sudden memory of their wedding dancing behind her closed lids as she succumb to slumber.

“Bone of my bone, my sassenach,” Jamie whispered in return, his heart and his belly full, “until our lives are done.”

Auston Matthews - Sick Day

(A/N: I’m so sorry for the long waits guys. I have 14 requests going right now and can only write on the weekends. School always, always comes first.)

Warnings: mentions of being sick/throwing up

Originally posted by calgaryinferno

You woke up to the distinct sound of gagging and throwing up coming from the bathroom. With a groan of annoyance, you walked in to find your boyfriend’s head shoved in a toilet bowl as he threw up again.

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A Mission Gone Wrong

Pairing: Avengers x reader

Warnings: Explosions, i think that’s it??

Summary: “The walls were coming down around you, too hard, too loud. Trying with everything you had, you reached out and tried to pull yourself off the floor. Your wailing hit their ears…”

Author’s note: This is written awfully (in like 5 minutes and barely edited.) and it’s quite repetitive, but I liked the idea. Um, as usual I suck ass at summaries yikes! Anyways, enjoy. Also, first post on my organised, cleaned up, blog! Go me!!

The walls were crumbling, landing in heaps of rubble and dust was flying everywhere. 

Even though you’d detected the blow first - and hightailed it out of there first - the Hydra agent was still hot on your tail. 

You could see the door at the end of the hall, wide open like a pair of arms, looking bright and inviting. Your lungs burned as you heaved in the dust filled air, feet slapping against the concrete. 

You could hear him behind you. Could feel his breath, hot and moist on the back of your neck. 

The door was right there. Just a little further. A few more steps. 

But you’d hit the floor. 

His arm was wrapped around your ankle, and your team was screaming. You couldn’t hear them. 

The walls were coming down around you, too hard, too loud. 

Trying with everything you had, you reached out and tried to pull yourself off the floor. Your wailing hit their ears with the same weight the rubble hit you. 

When the light hit your eyes, and the rubble around you shifted, you shrieked. 

When his face was in sight, and his voice floated down to your ears, you sobbed. 

When his hand finally wrapped around yours, and his pull moved you ever so slightly, you whimpered. 

He pulled you out, and whispered soothing things in your ears, but you couldn’t hear. 

He sounded far away, like you were under water. Muffled and rippled and wrong.  

Their hands were bruised and bloodied and scratched. They’d helped pull you out. 

They’d had faith that you’d lived. 

If every time after that, you shrieked whenever something was too loud, they didn’t complain. 

If every time after that, you screamed whenever you lost your balance, or something shifted suddenly, or the ground shook even in the slightest, they didn’t complain. 

If every time after that, you came to one of them in the night, trembling and crying, they didn’t complain. 

They never complained. 

Especially considering they detonated the bomb.

Tags: (I’ve definitely taken liberties and tagged people I want to because I don’t have a tag list ;)): @theassetseyeliner@eggsywife, @addictionmarvel, @charchaz, @wolvesandwinchesters, @tom-is-on-fire, @cameronahugenerd (If you don’t want me to tag you just tell me hehe)

Where there is light, darkness cannot overcome. It can create a shadow, but it will never have the upper hand over light. You are in the light of the Lord, child. The enemy can try to blind you from God’s sight, but as long as you remember who you belong to, he has no power over you. God fights for you. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.

John 1:5

“The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.”

I’ll Wear Out the Words “I Love You”

Written for @blogyblogblog​, who wanted fluffy Matt/Foggy wedding fic.

Donate to the ACLU and get fic!

There was a special bond between cousins who were born in the same year. In the Nelson clan, Foggy had Mitch. Mitch was the one who screamed down the house when Foggy fell into the pool, aged four. He was the one who collared Foggy at their thirteenth Christmas and told him what to do if he got within kissing distance of a cute boy or girl. He was the one who had counted his pennies during his HVAC apprenticeship to buy enormous flats of cheap beer, and drove ninety minutes to drop half of it off at Foggy’s dorm at Columbia.

And he was going to get a Hell’s Kitchen special right in the jaw if he didn’t stop cockblocking Foggy, family tradition or not.

“I’m putting my foot down, Bipper,” Mitch said, crossing his arms in the middle of Foggy’s bachelor party. Across the room, Foggy saw Jessica Jones latch onto the nickname with her PI superpowers, and he pointed a warning finger at her. She shot him a glance that said, quite clearly, “I’ll forget it for now, but you owe me.”

“The wedding’s a week away, dingus,” Foggy yelled, “you can’t make Matt move out for a week!”

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A Talk At The Bunker

Oliver stepped out of the elevator and came into the Bunker like a pariah. His mood was a dark one, as if heavy rain clouds filled his mind with storms.

Oliver had left the apartment an hour earlier. Felicity was still asleep on her side of the bed. He tenderly put his lips on her forehead as if kissing her dreams, dressed for the office and began to go over in his mind the Mayoral duties waiting for him there. He made a quick stop down the hall to check on William. The kid was still sleeping. He hovered in the doorway for a few seconds, wondering if he should go in the room and kiss his son as well. But with only a month gone by since returning from Lian Yu, Oliver could not gauge if that was enough time to be that personal with William. He slowly closed the bedroom door and let himself out of their apartment.

Over the past couple months, Oliver found it was difficult getting back into the normalcy of his responsibilities. The events on the island and the aftermath took his life in a whole new direction. It took away from whatever calmness and celebration his victory over Chase might have brought. But Oliver really didn’t see it as a victory, mainly because of what it did to William. He thought of what Felicity said to him at his birthday party about putting his feet up and relaxing. Even before Chase, that scenario was always a hard sell to him and it made him uncomfortable letting his guard down. Yes, currently there was no viable threat to the city, but Oliver felt that it was his duty to keep his radar on. He suspected that would always be a part of him, purposeful and adamant when it comes to protecting his city.

But there was another dynamic to the changes wrought by the Lian Yu incident. It brought Oliver into new territory, something he had no kind of training in. It brought self-doubt and uncertainty to him like a wave of broken glass crashing on the shores of his failure.


It was Felicity who made things a bit more easy for him after they got back. She was what gave his life such familiarity and she knew the inner tides that made Oliver tick.  She is the one constant for him in the five years she has been in his life. All those years he kept getting in his own way by making bad decisions and lying and hurting those he loved, Felicity still had faith and trust in him, still kept him close and helped to steer him from losing his way in the darkness. When the island exploded (a sight that still filled his dreams with nightmares) all he could envision was what his life was going to be like without her; an emptiness consuming Oliver like a living, breathing abyss showing him just how far despair can take a person. And then he found her amid the smoke and ashes, a bright emanation shining in his heart. It was a moment that will always make  him smile. They looked at each other, covered in soot and sweat and relief and verbally consummated their life together by saying ‘oh yeah, we’re married.’  They crashed together in defiance of the carnage Chase created. An actual wedding ceremony was just a formality.  But one thing didn’t and never will change—Felicity will always be his first and last thought of the day.

However, William is another matter. Oliver told Felicity that his son is the purest part of him. He is innocence and trust and belief. Samantha gave that to him, gave him a sense of family and home, that nothing will ever hurt him. And then that reality shattered when Samantha was consumed by Chase’s killing fires. In one suicidal gunshot, William was bereft of his childhood, perhaps to the point of never feeling safe again. Confusion and grief and fear were his new companions, playmates that had nothing to give him but loneliness.

Oliver could feel the emptiness of the Bunker as he climbed up to the platform and sat at Felicity’s workstation. Sometimes he could still feel all the turmoil and loss and darkness that permeated the Bunker over the past year. It lingered in the air like the smell of burnt toast, cloying and dank. Felicity’s search algorithm was the only sound echoing in the room as it looked for that next person to step up and infuse evil into the city again. Oliver ignored the computers and kept his focus on the strife that his son was going through in the wake of his loss.

Then he heard the smooth whine of the elevator ascend to the empty campaign office above. Its door slid open and Oliver heard the faint click of high heels enter. The door closed and the elevator came back down towards Oliver’s solitude.


Felicity assumed when she woke up this morning that Oliver was already at his office. She got up and went down the back hallway of the apartment and checked on William. He was still asleep in his room. Felicity was worried that the boy was sleeping too much. In fact, William had been spending most of his time staying in the bedroom, really only coming out when hunger touched his grief. It was something Felicity wanted to discuss with Oliver. But since coming back from the island, she knew he was not comfortable talking about William, as if the shadow of Samantha’s death hovered over them like a predatory bird. In spite of her and Oliver committing themselves to one another back on the island, Felicity still had some tiny reservations on giving any kind of advice to him on how to integrate William into their lives.

After Riasa arrived to watch over William, Felicity left the apartment and drove to the Bunker. She wanted to upgrade some software she had recently installed that would ping the phones of every Team Arrow member. It was an addition to her search algorithm that constantly surveyed the city 24/7. She would have the Bunker to herself, without any distractions while working.

She arrived at the old campaign office and entered the elevator. As she rode down, Felicity tried to adjust her thoughts, away from the Oliver’s dilemma over his son.

The door slid open and Felicity was surprised to see Oliver sitting at her workstation.  “Hey,” she said to him as she came into the Bunker. “What are you doing here?”

Oliver turned around at the sound of her voice. “I was driving to City Hall earlier and fully intended to climb behind my desk and do City Administration things, then I was pulling up outside and climbing into the elevator. Suddenly, I wanted to be alone. Is that a set-back for me?”

Felicity walked up to him, leaned down and softly kissed him. “Uh maybe…” she replied. “But at least this time you went somewhere I could find you.” Both of them remembered when Oliver disappeared after Moira was killed.

Oliver’s expression stayed neutral despite the softness of her lips on his.

“Oliver, what’s going on?”

He shifted in his chair and started to avert his gaze.

“No, uh-uh Oliver,” Felicity admonished him. “Don’t you dare try to avoid me.  Inclusion, remember?” Suddenly, she climbed into Oliver’s lap, using her body to keep him grounded. “Now, tell mama what’s wrong.”


“Oliver…I know what’s wrong. This is about William, isn’t it? Please don’t tell me you came down here to brood?”

“Felicity, are you going to let me talk?”

She fell silent. “I’m sorry,” she went on. “Yes, you can talk.”

“Thank you.” Oliver looked into her waiting eyes. “Uh yeah, it’s about William. Felicity…I don’t know what to say to him. And I’m scared that if I don’t reach him now, he’s going to drift away.”

Felicity felt the tension clenching his body. “Oliver…I know this is hard for you. But I don’t know if it has anything to do with…well, with how William was a barrier between us at one time.”

Oliver shook his head. “Felicity, it’s not that. It’s…he’s not a secret anymore. I just don’t know how to approach him. Maybe there is a part of me blaming myself for Samantha…”

Felicity put a finger to Oliver’s lips. “Oliver…no. We already talked about this. Chase was responsible for her death. You did everything you could to save your son. Samantha was collateral damage.”

“Yeah…I know that,” Oliver responded. “But Felicity…he lost his mother. I’m coming from personal experience here. That kind of loss is not so easily overcome.”

“Oliver, I don’t want to tell you how to interact with your son, but maybe your mother’s death is a good place to start with him. Maybe if you shared with him what you went through, he might not feel so alone.”

Oliver nodded in recognition. “You are probably right,” he acceded. “But how do I let him know his pain is not…that it can’t define him?”

“Oliver, it’s a connection you will have with him, a commonality. Just let  him know you’re his father and that you’ll be there for him no matter what.”


“Like you do with me…with love.”

@hope-for-olicity @louiseblue1 @almondblossomme @scu11y22 @flowerandsunshine @it-was-a-red-heeler @lovelycssefan @tdgal1 @memcjo @dmichellewrites

anonymous asked:

Of course paladins love blindfolds. They live by faith, not by sight. Though they also like bindings because they are bound by faith ;)

….You’re implying things about me I’m not sure I want circulating.Also bindings cut off circulation, which is bad. Typically. Unless you’re in to that sort of thing. I’m not. Nope.

the seven stages of friendship

Originally posted by jeonbase

Genre: fluff, angst, & college!au

Pairing: Jimin x Taehyung & Reader x Jungkook

Summary: how you and Tae became bestfriends, and how it never ended, even after-

a/n: this is a repost from my old blog since ummm jay was an idiot and deleted it by accident. when I first posted this is got like no notes but its my favorite writing so ;-;

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Hold On - Ray Palmer

- Y/n = Your Name

- Y/L/N = Your Last Name

Prompt- Ray Palmer imagine where he and the reader are madly in love in the future, and he has to come back in time but don’t want to leave her, even knowing you will meet again in two years -anon  //  "Ray Palmer imagine. I don’t have a prompt exactly, but fluff. A lot of fluff because Ray is a little ball of cuteness. Please. Sorry if there is anything wrong with the request, i’m not a native speaker.-anon

Word count - 1,245


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Where We Belong (1/?)

What the heckity heck is a chapter ?????? you mean i have to write another one ???????????

Chirrut has many bruises lately. It’s not as though it’s an unfamiliar sensation; they’ve been fighters since they were children, sparring at the temple and using those skills to defend their home. But these are different, not well-earned in a fight. There’s no triumphant cheer to go with these, just grunts of frustration, and prayers, for his own strength, not for help. These marks, concentrated on elbows, shoulders, and shins, mostly, are to Chirrut evidence of failure, inability to adjust to living without his sight. Faith in the will of the Force has guided his entire life, and this should be no different. He is blind because it is as the Force wills, therefore he can bear it through faith in that Force. He keeps repeating it, to the elders who praise his bravery, to Baze who is too busy blaming himself to listen, and most of all, to himself. Now with every stumble, every hard clip against the wall, he’s forced to ask himself why he can’t do it. He wants to train, to get back to his usual duties. To find some sort of normal again, if not for himself then for Baze, who radiates his anguish and guilt and pity toward him so overwhelmingly that Chirrut can hardly stand to be near him some days. That feeling is far worse than the blindness.

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Prayer before the Crucifix

Behold, O kind and most sweet Jesus, I cast myself upon my knees in Your sight, and with the most fervent desire of my soul I pray and beseech You that You would impress upon my heart lively sentiments of Faith, Hope, and Charity, with true repentance for my sins, and a firm purpose of amendment, while with deep affection and grief of soul I ponder within myself and mentally contemplate Your five most precious Wounds; having before my eyes the words which David in prophecy spoke concerning Yourself, O good Jesus: “They have pierced my hands and feet; they have numbered all my bones.”

St. Kateri Tekakwitha at the Cross in the Woods shrine in Indian River, Michigan.

“O Lord, how long shall I cry for help, and You will not hear? Or cry to You, ‘Violence!’ and You will not save?” (Habakkuk 1:2)

Do you ever feel like Habakkuk, thinking that God doesn’t hear you or doesn’t seem to respond? Last week I had the opportunity to meet with a spiritual director to talk about my faith and what God’s doing in my life. At one point I mentioned that it seemed like God was no longer speaking to me as He once had. The spiritual director responded quite simply, explaining that that’s part of faith.
As we discussed it more, it began to make sense. We as Christians are called to live by faith and not by sight. If God always spoke to us in the same way and moved in the same ways, then it would be very tempting for us to think that it’s all about the methods and the procedures we used. To try and figure out an equation for having a relationship with God. But it’s not that simple. God is bigger and greater and more complex than we can comprehend. So, perhaps He speaks and moves in different ways and in different seasons in order to teach us more about how great He is and how we must have faith in Him.

Maybe you’re experiencing something like this right now in your life. Maybe God wants to enlarge your understanding of who He is. Maybe God wants you to continue to press hard into Him in this time, and wants you to discover different aspects of Him. He is present, friends. Have faith and know that He is with you, and see what He wants you to learn in this season of life.

  • Me: Well. Okay. But there's a year age gap. I mean. How big was the temple?
  • Me: like. What if it was big? And Baze was the snooty honor student prefect and Chirrut was the partyrock carouser in the year below who was always under disciplinary action. I mean. Assuming Chirrut had the same personality and didn't get gradually blind. Not talking about it usually means bad I mean. Baze probably was too good to hang out with him, you know? If he even knew he existed. But in a big place he might not, right? Temple of the Whills probably has school-type politics even if you stay there lifelong.
  • Me: Then shit goes down, and- what if that's how Chirrut loses his sight? Most of the guardians die...Baze loses his faith because he's the rigid A-student type and WHY WOULD THE FORCE DO THIS TO US WHEN WE DEVOTED OUR LIVES TO IT? He and Chirrut meet years later by Chirrut winsomely ripping him off or whatever but they fall for each other just as people and find out they have common ground later. And Baze is terrifically guilty about it and it's a point of contention because he feels like he failed ALL the guardians. Like, he feels responsible for Chirrut's blindness, and for many deaths, but being blind is the thing that brought Chirrut to where he is with his faith.
  • Other People: ...WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS?

Some people think it’d be great to know for sure what will happen when they die but it is so much better than to have faith than knowledge. I can only think of the devil and his army. They know God, they lived with God, they are fully aware of His greatness and yet they rebelled. Knowledge doesn’t mean anything without faith in Him and His timing, but faith means everything without knowledge.

The devil convinced one third of all angels to rebel (Revelation 12:3-9, Hebrews 12:22) and managed to get them to follow a mere creation rather than the Creator. Knowledge of God’s greatness and the wonders of Heaven didn’t bring these angels any closer to God. They were blind to God’s greatness. People think faith is the blindfold but actually it’s what helps us see. The devil and his armies had full knowledge of God, lived among Him and yet were blind of God’s greatness.

We know from Revelation 5:11 that there’s tens of millions of good angels in heaven, which means there was several million angels who fell from grace. Several million beings who were living in His divine glory and yet chose to follow one proud and blind angel. One angel managed to convince millions of others to rebel. One angel managed to draw away millions of powerful creations away from the glorious Creator. If several million powerful creations such as angels are capable of being so ignorant and blind to the Truth, how can it possibly come as a surprise that so many billions of humans are just as lost and blind?

Knowing of Jesus is not enough, for even the devil and his followers know of God and yet they aren’t saved. They know the Bible inside and out and yet they distort Its message. Salvation is both about faith, obedience to His commandments and a change of heart (John 1-2, John 14:15, Matthew 22:37, Matthew 7:21, Romans 6:1-2, Romans 13:10, Romans 3:311 John 2:4, 1 John 5:3).

Faith is the one thing the world mocks Christians about, yet it’s what allow us to truly see what they are unable to.

2 Corinthians 5:7
For we live by faith, not by sight.

Hebrews 11:1
Now faith is the reality of what is hoped for, the proof of what is not seen.

1 Corinthians 1:18
For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but it is God’s power to us who are being saved.

FIC: The light that shrivels a mountain, chapter 1

Pairing: eventually a slow burn Sara Ryder/Harry Carlyle story
Summary They will need new terms for everything now, a whole new vocabulary for their existence. Sara Ryder and Harry Carlyle try to get their bearings in a new galaxy as they find themselves closer to each other than they ever expected.

Read at AO3
or under the cut

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The greater cats with golden eyes
Stare out between the bars.
Deserts are there, and the different skies,
And night with different stars.
They prowl the aromatic hill,
And mate as fiercely as they kill,
To roam, to live, to drink their fill;
But this beyond their wit know I:
     Man loves a little, and for long shall die.

Their kind across the desert range
Where tulips spring from stones,
Not knowing they will suffer change
Or vultures pick their bones.
Their strength’s eternal in their sight,
They overtake the deer in flight,
And in their arrogance they smite;
But I am sage, if they are strong:
     Man’s love is transient as his death is long.

Yet oh what powers to deceive!
My wit is turned to faith,
And at this moment I believe
In love, and scout at death.
I came from nowhere, and shall be
Strong, steadfast, swift, eternally:
I am a lion, a stone, a tree,
And as the Polar star in me
Is fixed my constant heart on thee.
Ah, may I stay forever blind
     With lions, tigers, leopards, and their kind.

Vita Sackville-West

Southern Comfort

Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1,764

Warnings: ……character death, language, spectre possession, and I’m pretty sure that’s it…oh oh yeah, heartbreaking ;) 

Summary: So I woke up this morning with this fantastic idea and wrote it all out before I had to go to my class…I was actually productive today!! Anyways, I based this off of the episode from season 8 “Southern Comfort” as you can tell from the title…but I gave it my own twist of events that I think you might hate me for…idk yet lol we’ll find out if I get feedback :) enjoy!! 

Originally posted by marilynmay

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