take a moment to feel alive

Something to confess about how V’s route changed everything in me lol

Ahhh this is just a rant so you’re free to ignore this or hate me or anything.


So, the thing is I’ve never loved Seven. Well, I like him but I’ve never fantasized about him (which is often the case in me). It’s also the same for Saeran. I’m like, “oh he’s cool, but nah”.


I loved V though. The genuine feeling of wanting to make this guy stay alive was there.


That didn’t change in his route, too. I still love him.


BUT DO YOU GUYS REMEMBER THAT SCENE WHERE VANDERWOOD ASKED SEVEN IF HE’S INLOVE WITH MC OR SOMETHING??!! At that moment, something just clicked in me and I’m like… “Wait… I’m starting to feel something.” (And now I just can’t take Seven off my mind AHHHHH!!!).


And finally, for the first time, I made Seven my wallpaper lol.


As for Saeran. Well, even with the chats, I still have the same opinion of him. Yes, he’s become cuter. But what changed my opinion were the calls!! THOSE CALLS WERE SOMETHING!! MY HEART WAS BASICALLY SOFTENED BY THOSE CALLS THAT I AM NOW A SAERAN TRASH LOL. That’s probably why it hurts so much when Cheritz did what they did. *sniff*


I am kind of grieving over V in his route though. When I read on Tumblr how Ray overshadowed V in his own route, I think I have to agree. I really, really love V. But then honestly, that overwhelmingly happy feeling I feel in achieving good endings wasn’t there when I finished V route. I don’t know if it’s the same for you guys, but I felt like V didn’t actually show so much affection for the MC. There are a few scenes here and there, but most of the time he just goes on and on about saving her. And “I want to save you” is totally different from “I love you”. (Unlike the other routes where there is definitely declaration of love).


I still love V. But I think the route could have been better. I’m not regretting playing it though.


p.s.

ALSO CHATTING WITH VANDERWOOD AND SEEING HIS CG JUST TIPPED ME OFF A CLIFF AND MADE ME FALL FOR HIM LOL.

do you ever have these small moments in life where your sadness and anxiety leaves you for like ten seconds and it feels like time has stopped? when you look around wherever you are, whether you’re running through heavy rain or in the middle of a club shouting the words to your favourite song on the dance floor or riding ur bike home at 3am and you feel alive. like really ALIVE. when you’re not thinking about anything; you’re just living through your senses, trying to take in the moment. and when it passes you realise nearly every moment leading up to that moment - every second, every day you’ve been on this planet - you haven’t felt that alive? that you haven’t even been living, just existing, until that moment? i live for those moments

It’s not that I want to kill myself but the bathtub is an easy place to fall asleep in. I take showers instead and don’t think about drowning. It would be weird to die naked anyway. I don’t count the days and hours and minutes like they’re spiders, at least not on purpose. I’m not so tired of being alive that I can’t find a quick moment of enjoyment in the worst television but I also don’t usually bother to try. It’s okay. Sometimes I want to wake up and sometimes I wonder if it would be better to just sleep for a while. I want to harness the guilt I feel at 3 in the morning to make myself better the next day but instead I just keep being this person I can’t stand or maybe am so used to I don’t even recognize as being different from who I actually am. I don’t know. I haven’t taken a bath in a while. I wear my seatbelt. I look before crossing the road. It’s just that for a second, I think about what would happen if I didn’t. And that second is slow.

let's talk beautiful lyrics by yoongi

“amidst double standards and opposition everywhere I crushed the limits within myself” (we are bulletproof pt. 2)

“my hobby is proving you wrong” (we on)

“if i ruled the world why would i dream small, of gambling and investing in stocks? i would still be making music with my bangtan fam” (if i ruled the world)

“same day, same moon” (tomorrow)

“the studio is my playground, and the pen and paper are my partners” (triptych)

“a sweet wind named you is blowing in my heart” (miss right)

“others are running forward, yet why am i still here?” (intro: hyyh)

“take a breath, or breathe a dream” (intro: hyyh)

“this moment will never come again, it will never find me again, so i ask myself am i happy? yes, the answer is already there, i am happy.” (intro: hyyh)

“before the day of my birth inside of my mother’s womb, i counted the days till my first move. the cost of the move was a machine on her heart and a scar.” (move….. /fuh my heart)

“on the stage i desired so much, when i sing and dance, i feel that i am yet alive. i can withstand a long commute and the aching of my body because my people are watching me. i endure the exhaustion because the cheers come rolling in.” (born singer)

“i don’t give a shit, i don’t give a fuck” (intro: nvm)

“i have become the pride of my family, and have even succeeded to an extent.” (intro: nvm)

“though i taste failure and disappointment and bow my head, we’re still young and immature don’t even sweat it” (intro: nvm)

“if you can’t go back, run forward…
if you feel you’ll crash, accelerate all the more” (intro: nvm)

“you’re a butterfly effect, shining in pitch darkness. with your light touches i forget reality altogether” (butterfly)

“the words so carelessly thrown at me: even my loneliness looks like pretend to you.” (whalien 52)

“have i engraved my existence into you like rain? or have i come and gone like short showers?” (rain)

“the saying must be true that love blooms like cherry blossoms and then burns to ashes” (let me know)

“hip hop found me like a young child finds his mother” (hip hop lover)

“everyone asks me, what is hip hop, and i say proudly that it is my everything. as a result i have buried my entire existence under music. if loving this culture is a sin i’ll die a hundred times
over.” (hip hop lover)

“dream. hope. forward. forward” (epilogue: young forever)

We Got Married (M)

Originally posted by kthmyg

8.8k words. Arranged Marriage AU. Min Yoongi.

Warning: Fingering. Phone sex. ft Kim Namjoon.


It’s hilarious, laughable, pathetic even, how love could either build you or ruin you and yet knowing this, people still chase after it like the rise of golden light beyond the horizon, or the last drop of dew in twilight, or the flutter of that one coral blue butterflies in buttercup paved meadow.

It’s frightening, daunting, startling even, how love makes your hands clammy like you’re being interviewed by the very man who founded the big shot company you’ve applied to.

And it’s utterly, impossibly, unbelievable how love comes in many ways like a bump and a spill of coffee on crisp white shirt, or a brush of hands upon a dusty leather brown book spine or an envelope obtained from a mailbox on one’s way back from grocery shopping.

Well, that’s exactly what’s happening to Min Yoongi, second son to one of the well-known elite families in Seoul. Most of the time, he couldn’t care less about family matters; business deals, dinner with alien faces and empty conversations─ those things he’s entitled to attend with mildly bored eyes and champagne he’ll never finish in one hand. But this particular matter, he can’t just not care. One, because it directly concerns him (as if the cursive letter of his name engraved in bold black against crisp white isn’t enough indication). Two, because it’s from a certain someone in his family who he’s fond of.

Dear Yoongi,

Is written on the top of the not so neat written paper.

Son,

I know you might hate me for this.

Keep reading

Self care is whatever keeps you alive. This can mean different things to different people at different stages in their lives, because of different needs and priorities either short or long term.

Paying your bills and budgeting keeps you alive. Buying groceries keeps you alive. Eating healthy food keeps you alive. Exercising keeps you alive. Proper sleep hygiene keeps you alive. All of these are true.

Being kind to yourself keeps you alive. Listening to your favorite music keeps you alive. Staying in bed when you’re exhausted keeps you alive. Watching netflix all day when you’re exhausted instead of doing chores or hygiene keeps you alive. All of these are true, too.

They’re not mutually exclusive. All of these are important, but when you are disabled you often do not have the energy or brainpower to do all of them. Some days you need to triage one task for the sake of another. And that’s your business and your business alone - no one else can see the inside of your head, only you know what is best for yourself and what you most need, in any given moment, to stay alive.

You have a right to make those decisions for yourself without being shamed. You have a right to live your life at your own pace, on your own terms, to the extent of your energy and abilities. All you can do is your best, and some days that will look different from others, and that’s okay, it’s not a static thing. Do what you need to do, one day at a time, to take care of yourself how you best see fit.

You don’t deserve to feel shame for struggling. You are valid. You are doing your best. You deserve to have your right to autonomy and your choices respected.

Start over, every second, if you need to. Start over until you make your life into the life you’ve always wanted to live.
Start over until your dominant thoughts are thoughts that make you feel good, not bad.
Start over until you are present and alive and connected to each moment.
Start over until you take yourself off of autopilot and finally take charge of your life.
—  You can start over.

anonymous asked:

Let me sneak this in before I get ready to go to work and you close your box. Can I get domestic HCs, or a drabble if you prefer, for post-ending, everyone lives Chocobos with their pregnant s/o? Like they all thought this was gonna be a terrible ending, yet here they are with a kid on the way. Thanks!

Noctis can’t believe that he’s still alive. He can’t believe that he gets a second chance––he wakes up on the floor of the throne room and feels the warmth of sunlight on his face. The first thing he does is bolt back outside, and sees that his friends are still alive as well. After a brief reunion, he runs back home, to you.

He makes love to you that night, vigorously, sensually, as if he’s finally breached the surface of the ocean and is able to take in his first exhilarating breath. The passion takes you two over and you fall asleep in each other’s arms.

Noctis sets to work on rebuilding the Citadel. The moment you tell him that you’re pregnant, he falls to his knees, holds you close and thanks the Six for his gift. A family––he can hardly believe it. He becomes the King that Insomnia has always deserved, and dotes on you hand and foot. He promises to be a dedicated father and husband, and he never disappoints you. He cherishes every moment he’s able to spend with you as your womb grows, because he knows that every minute is a blessing from the Astrals.


Prompto emerges from the final battle alive, but badly injured. He hobbles home to you and you take care of his wounds, teasingly scolding him that he was trying too hard to be a hero. He jokes that he figured it would impress you, and you smack him playfully on the arm as you bandage up his wounds.

It’s a while until he’s healthy, but as soon as he’s able, he’s between your legs. He wants every part of you, wants to map every inch of your skin with his lips, hands and tongue. You give yourself fully to him, taking him in for all he’s worth.

You tell him that you’re pregnant some time later, and he starts to cry. You think at first that he’s upset at the news, that maybe he wasn’t ready to be a father, but he immediately dispels the idea. He tells you how much he’s wanted to start a family with you, and how excited he is to be a dad. He just can’t help but be emotional because he’s been through so much with his brothers in arms, and never expected to find love, and never expected to make it out of that last standoff alive.

His enthusiasm for fatherhood takes shape in the form of nesting. He’s already picked the colours for the nursery and bought most of the things you’ll need, and already gotten way too many stuffed moogles and chocobos for your future son or daughter. He spoils you rotten, and always kisses your growing belly before he falls asleep.


Gladio promised you before he left for the final battle that once it was over, he was going to marry you. You were so scared that he wouldn’t come back––but when he shows up at your shared house, covered in dirt and blood, you throw your arms around him and refuse to let go. He did it. He came home.

The wedding is small and intimate, with your closest friends in attendance. Neither of your parents made it out of the Citadel alive, so you light candles for them at the altar. That night, Gladio absolutely ravishes you, having to keep himself from ripping the white gown from your body. You consummate your marriage over and over until you’re unable to walk and he is finally sated.

You tell Iris that you think you’re pregnant, and she helps you buy the test from the pharmacy. When it comes back positive, you’re initially nervous about what Gladio will say. But when you tell him, he gingerly wraps his arms around you in a warm embrace, and you feel tears on your shoulder. You ask him if he’s crying, and he hastily wipes his eyes. Putting his macho façade back on, he replies, “No.”

Gladio buys parenting books and tries to come up with names for your unborn child. He wants to be a better father than Clarus was to him. He also wants to carry on the tradition of naming the Amicitia heir after a flower, and you bicker playfully back and forth over which ones are your favourites.


Ignis didn’t know how to say goodbye to you before the final battle, so he slipped away in the night without a word. You were furious with him when he returned, but also so relieved when he came back alive. You wanted to slap him, but instead you tugged him close for a kiss. He was scared that you would be upset with him, and you admit that you are, but now is his chance to make it up to you.

And he does––repeatedly, with blindfolds, rope and leather. You’re a trembling mess under his questing fingers and his clever mouth, and by the time he’s finished with you, you’re almost entirely sure that he’s sucked every bone from your body and left you with nothing but sore muscle and bruised skin.

It’s almost as if Ignis knows that you’re pregnant before you do. He notices a difference in your behaviour, the smells that you’ve become sensitive to, and your demands for strange food combinations. He offers to buy you a pregnancy test to be sure, though he’s already purchased prenatal vitamins in anticipation.

You’re not sure how he, as a blind man, is able to baby-proof the house, but he does. He takes such good care of you that you start to feel bad, and try to get him to stop, but he refuses. He tells you that you and your unborn child are the family he never really had, and that he will do whatever it takes to ensure your safety and comfort. You eventually just let him dote on you, and he ends up being more prepared when you are when your due date actually arrives.

—Morning After, touken headcanon/fic  ƸӜƷ

Summary: the morning after, chapter 125. Mini fic/headcanon.

Again, another mini fic/headcanon! you can read the rest of my headcanons/mini fics here, I hope you guys enjoy this ♡ let’s cry together because this is real and canon :’)



His scars tell a story.

Touka reads it with her fingers, nails softly outlining the marks tracing the shape of his bare shoulder, fingertips floating just above his skin and her touch feels so tender, so ethereal… almost as if she wasn’t touching him at all. His wounds tell a story she has learned to memorize over the years, the story of a boy with a broken heart trying to find someone willing to mend it. She can find herself on his marks as well, fingers tracing the spot she had bitten many years ago, she can read their story on his skin just by touching him, she can remember, and feel, and love… it’s all there, right in front of her.

The morning sunlight feels like golden rain caressing his features, and her hand suddenly stops when it reaches his lips, softly parted and breathing life. Her fingertip caresses his lower lip, his chin, the rosy tone of his cheekbones… Touka can’t help but smile a little, heart fluttering furiously.

“Kaneki,” she whispers.

He stays the same, with his arm under her head and the other weekly wrapped around her waist, keeping her close to him. She smiles softly, head popping up on one hand as she leans closer to his face, lips brushing his cheeks.

“Kaneki,” she repeats, her breath tickling his skin.

His eyebrows frown a little, babbling.

“Mmrphh…”

“Wake up,” she mutters, spreading kisses across his face, ending at the corner of his lips.

He grimaces again, readjusting the grip of his arm around her waist, pulling her closer.

“W-Why…”

Touka sighs, going back to her old position and landing her gaze to the only window inside that building.

“Because,” she says, resting her head against his arm. “It’s already morning. We have to go back.”

He nods, lazily, but doesn’t make an attempt to get up or even open his eyes. He stays like that, breathing slowly, and Touka doesn’t think she has ever seen something as peaceful as this. Her hand reaches out to touch his hair, brushing it slightly, his lips drawing out a sluggish smile that makes her heart stop.

“Kaneki.”

His eyes open drowsily, smiling at her, and Touka can’t help but smile back, her face burning and not because of the sun brightening the walls. Kaneki takes her hand, holding it against his cheek, letting out a deep sigh.

“Just one more minute.”

She lets him stay like this for a while until her back starts to sore and she has to sit on the floor, stretching her neck and arms, making a disgusted face. Damn floor. Her hands reach out for her shirt, undoing the buttons, and her eyes flicker when she feels Kaneki’s fingers touch her back, tracing a small pattern on her skin. So he is awake, after all. Touka takes a deep breath, trying to concentrate on what she’s doing, not being truly able to hold back the feelings that curse through her body whenever he touches her. Is it… always this way? Will it always be like this? Not that she complains, of course, but still—

“Don’t you feel uncomfortable?” she asks, putting her shirt on as she peers down at him, he has his eyes open. He’s staring at her back like she’s some kind of nude goddess. She tries to remain calm. “The floor isn’t particularly warm, you know.”

She adjusts her sleeves, leaving the shirt open, and suddenly Kaneki’s body raises from the ground. He settles by her side, yawning, and leans to rest his head against her legs in a fetal position.

“Now I’m fine,” he says, closing his eyes again. “But you are right. We should… uh, get a bed. N-Next time, I mean.”

“Next time?”

He bites back a mischevious smile, cheeks burning brighter than the sun.

Touka stares at him in silence, she can’t breathe properly yet, probably she never will, but she smiles at knowing that she’s the only one who gets to see him this way. Smiling, sleepy, drowsily resting his head against her thighs to find warmth, wrapping an arm around her leg, desperate for the slightest of her touches.

The only one.

She’s the only one.

Touka’s hands dance through his hair, trembling softly, and she can spot a tiny smile tugging at the corner of his lips. They’re so close, so close, and there’s nothing around them that can tear her away from him. Not anymore, not unless she allows it. And she won’t. Not now, not ever.

“Kaneki…”

“Mmmh?”

The fact that he isn’t looking at her makes the whole situation less embarrassing. It makes her brave, somehow, to ask.

“Was that—“ she begins, a bit unsure. “Was that your first kiss?”

He sighs in response, eyes still closed.

“No. I’ve been practicing on random strangers for a while now,” he grins, wild hair spread all across her legs, lips smiling at the stupid joke. “Yes. That was my first kiss.”

Her heart pounds, sending shivers down her spine.

“Mine too,” her voice comes lower than usual, almost as if she’s speaking to herself, but Kaneki is not deaf to her words anymore, and he listens, every single one of them.

He smiles softly. He’s been smiling since he woke up and she suspects he will keep doing it for a while. His hand takes hers, their fingers intertwine, he keeps pretending a fake sleep and Touka allows him to stay this way a bit more, Touka and Kaneki are silent for a long while, listening to the wind, feeling their throbbing hearts through the connection of their fingers, feeling each other even with their eyes closed.

It’s not that their bodies are naked or that he’s resting against her legs, but the moment is filled with an intimacy that Touka knows she has never shared with Kaneki before. She keeps stroking his hair, fingers humming a soft lullaby against his skin. He’s awake, he’s alive between her arms, he’s alive when she leans her lips against his and brushes them slightly, when her hands rest against his chest, burning his skin; he’s alive when he sits up, staring at her mesmerizing beauty, her shirt open and poorly covering her nudity, the fabric sliding off her shoulder, exposing her collarbone and everything else that he considers being more than perfect. He holds his breath, unable to breathe, his hand reaches out to her messy morning hair, making it look even crazier. She giggles, trying to stop him, but he leans against her lips and Touka feels like this kiss will last forever.

She lets him, even if they are in a hurry and they should probably be leaving this building by now… Touka lets him, closing her eyes, offering him all that she has, all that she is. Kaneki kisses her, not caring about time or anything else as his lips travel down her neck, hands getting rid of her shirt.

Touka sighs, arms enveloping his neck once more, her heart allowing him to do whatever the hell he wants with her.

They have this.

They have each other.

They have enough.

It Might Be Nice // Part 2

Lmao, this took a long ass time but like ??? I didn’t even think it was going to have a second partso, yah. 

Here’s part one: http://bleusarcelle.tumblr.com/post/158130830599/it-might-be-nice-part-1

And, that’s it! It’s seems like Lance died but like…psssh, he…he’s sleeping, kay? Yah… btw LONG. POST. Translations: Ae-in (Sweetheart), Amor (Love) 

Disclaimer: Voltron doesn’t belong to me. 


One, two, three blinks and then –

Lance’s eyes stay closed.

“No.” Keith whispers horrified, his hand aimlessly patting the glass powerless, “No, no, no, no, no. Lance, please, no.”

There’s nothing at all. There’s no flutter of eyelids or a steady breathing or even a twitch.

There’s nothing but a ghost smile in those pale half parted lips.

“L-Lance.” He chokes out weakly, barely acknowledging the tears running down his face, “Ae-in?”

Lance just sits there, body heavily pressed against the glass, right in front of Keith, mouth frozen in a permanent silent sigh and Keith snaps.

“No!” He screams, “No, no, no! Lance! I-I love –! Lance, please! Come back! Come back, please! I-I didn’t –!” Keith’s voice breaks, words still falling out of his mouth without his consent, “I love you too! Please! I didn’t get the chance to –! Don’t do this, please!  I’m begging you! Lance!”

This can’t be happening. Keith thinks as his fist pounds at the glass that block his way to get to the brunet. This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening. This can’t be –

“Please, please, please, break. Break goddamnit, please!” He shouts, standing up  and activating his bayard, not hesitating a tick before he’s lashing and stabbing the glass, “Break, break. Please, please – BREAK!”

It doesn’t and Keith can only slash out at the damn glass over and over again. His vision gets blurry as more tears keep gathering in his eyes and suddenly there’s no air in his lungs and he can’t breath, he can’t hear, he can’t - he can’t –

“No!” He yells as soon as someone grabs him from behind and pulls him away, “No! Get off of me! Get off –! Lance! Lance, please! No!”

Lance’s figure just keeps getting further and further away from him. He’s basically slipping through his finger and he can’t do a damn thing.

“S-Stop.” Keith sobs out desperately, dropping his entire body in defeat against the strong hold he’s trapped in, “S-stop, p-please, I-I can’t–I didn’t tell him –!”

Faint black spots start appearing in his vision. He tips to the side exhausted as he look straight into the only blurry blue dot he can see.

“L-Lance.” He whispers brokenly, “L-Lan –”

Keith hears the sound of something shattering as he loses conscience but he’s just not sure on what exactly.

Must have been his heart.

Keep reading

Noises

content: After hearing some suspicious noises coming out of Dean’s bedroom the night before, Sam decides to confront his brother.

word count: 2,088


“Dean, we need to talk.”

Sam’s voice sounds very serious while he leans against the kitchen counter and folds his stupidly long arms in front of his chest, glaring at his older brother with the familiar I-don’t-support-your-life-choices look. He doesn’t even waste his time with a “Good morning” or something similar and that’s always a bad sign.

Dean, however, isn’t really impressed by that. He places the bacon onto the hot pan at a leisurely pace, ignoring Sam completely, until he finally shoots a quick glance over his shoulder.

“And what’s so important at 7 a.m.?”

Sam huffs impatiently. “You know!”

Dean rolls his eyes. “No, I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking.”

Sam fidgets uncomfortably as if he’d rather be somewhere else and doesn’t want to have this discussion at all. And then he starts to gesticulate, flailing his limbs in Dean’s vague direction, and performs a very complicated dance with his eyebrows.

“How about we talk about last night?”

Quite suddenly Dean’s attention is grabbed, but he keeps himself from acting like a deer in the headlights. Instead he clears his throat and asks, a bit croaky, “What do you mean?”

“Well, just look at you!” Sam says, pointing at Dean’s face with an accusatory expression. “There is that stupid grin I’ve seen so many times and I think it’s even worse than ever before. And let’s not even mention that huge hickey on your neck.”

Dean ducks his head and tries forcefully – and highly unsuccessfully – to fight back a blush.

Damn.

Keep reading

In the Bones: Part One

Title: In the Bones

Rated: M (for violence and later chapters)

Words: 10K+

Summary:  Natsu and Lucy are from warring clans, each acting as a powerful warrior for their people. Natsu’s clan consists of skilled blacksmiths, crafting weapons from the earth and enchanting them with lost elemental magic. Lucy’s people are Spiritwalkers, powerful seers who can make contracts with ancient spirits from the bones they leave behind. (enemies to lovers AU)

AN: New AU for @constellunaa‘s birthday! Happy birthday Shana! Have a lovely day <3 This one is based on her warring clans AU which is AMAZING.

*also on FF, so please be sure to drop a review there and follow the story if you want to!


Lucy bends low over the bowl before her, cupping her hands to trap the gust from her lungs as she breathes life into the broken, forgotten splinters of bone. Cracked ribs lay before her, as well as the remains of a smashed skull, barely the size of her palm, small enough to cradle. They rattle when she blows warm air against them, shifting slightly, and she grins. Excitement sweeps through her, her hands trembling, and she has to steady herself before trying again.

She takes a deep breath, golden eyes slipping shut as she pushes passed her nerves, readying herself. Her eyes snap open once more, a faint shimmer of blue in her irises, and this time when she breathes into them, a pale, ghostly blue glow pulls from her lungs. It fans across the bones, and they quiver, clacking together wildly as she leans back, waiting for the creature to form, long forgotten pieces of itself finally becoming one.

Her eyes slam shut, her heart stuttering in her chest, and she bites her lip. Lucy’s lungs go still, the oxygen leaving her in a rush, and she reminds herself not to panic, her mind used to the loss of breath, though her body constantly rejects the feeling. Her lungs scream for air, her spirit flickering as she continues to breathe against the bones she found days earlier while out in the woods.

Eventually, she runs out of air, the blue glow leaving her and washing across the rattling bones, the sound growing so loud she can barely think. Lucy gasps for breath, coughing slightly, and winces as her chest aches, her life-force growing thin for a moment before coming back to her.

The consequences of walking with spirits were the first things Lucy was taught as a child, her mother making her promise never to spread herself too thin. There’s only so much a Spiritwalker can take, their lives much more fragile than others.

The bones fall silent a moment later. The rattling stops suddenly, and her eyes snap open, gold flickering in the early morning light spilling in through the open window. The wool rug beneath Lucy tickles at her skin, and the bones are quiet, as if nothing happened. For a moment, she frowns, eyes narrowing as she stares down at them, but then they shift again, though not because of her.

Keep reading

With the anniversary of the Pulse shooting coming up tomorrow, I want to remind all of you that you are loved and that you deserve to be proud and happy and alive. It will be a difficult day for so many of us, and I want everyone to know that it is okay to grieve, or to feel anxious, or angry, or any kind of emotion that comes up tomorrow. This was a tragedy, and it affected all of us in some way or another. Take some moments tomorrow to check in with yourself and your emotions and do whatever you think is going to help you get through this day best. Above all, know that you have a huge community of people going through this alongside you, that support is available, and that you deserve to have and express your emotions.

A Note From Gerard Way about My Chemical Romance's breakup if you haven't read it yet

A note from Gerard Way about My Chemical Romance’s breakup:

A Vigil, On Birds and Glass.
I woke up this morning still dreaming, or not fully aware of myself just yet. The sun poked through the windows, touching my face, and then a deep sadness overcame me, immediately, bringing me to life and realization- My Chemical Romance had ended.
I walked downstairs to do the only thing I could think of to regain composure-
I made coffee.
As the drip began, in that kind of silence that only happens in the morning, and being the only one awake, I stepped outside my home, leaving the door open behind me. I looked around and began to breathe. Things looked to be about the same- a beautiful day.
As I turned to step back into the house I heard sound from within, a chirp and a rustle. And I noticed a small brown bird had flown into the library. Naturally, I panicked. I knew I had to see the bird to safety and I knew I had to retain the order of things in our home, and he very well couldn’t take up residency with us. I chased him (still assuming he was a he) into my office, where I have these very large windows.
Just then, and luckily, I heard Lindsey’s footsteps coming down the stairs, and naturally being composed as she is, she grabbed a blanket and stepped into the office. He was impossible to catch, and I began to open the windows, via Lindsey’s direction, only to find out they were screened. The bird began to fly into the glass, over and over and in all different directions.
Smack.
Smack.
Smack!
I heard another set of footsteps, Bandit’s, running down the stairs in anticipation of the new day. Her entrance into the situation caused just the right amount of chaos (she was very excited to meet the bird) and we found ourselves chasing the bird into the living room. Knowing that this where it could potentially get sticky, being the high ceilings and the beams to perch on, I opened the front door as Lindsey did her best to encourage our new friend out the door. After some coaxing, flying, chirping, a wrong turn back into the library and a short goodbye to Bandit, he simply hopped out the front door- taking off on the fifth leap.
We cheered.
I was no longer sad.
I didn’t realize it, but I stopped being sad the minute that bird had come into my life, because there was something that needed doing, a small vessel to aid and an order to keep. I closed the door. I decided to write the letter I always knew I would.

[[/MORE]]

It is often my nature to be abstract, hidden in plain sight, or nowhere at all. I have always felt that the art I have made (alone or with friends) contains all of my intent when executed properly, and thus, no explanation required. It is simply not in my nature to excuse, explain, or justify any action I have taken as a result of thinking it through with a clear head, and in my truth.
I had always felt this situation involving the end of this band would be different, in the eventuality it happened. I would be cryptic in its existence, and open upon its death.

The clearest actions come from truth, not obligation. And the truth of the matter is that I love every one of you.
So, if this finds you well, and sheds some light on anything, or my personal account and feelings on the matter, then it is out of this love, mutual and shared, not duty.
Love.
This was always my intent.

My Chemical Romance: 2001-2013

We were spectacular.
Every show I knew this, every show I felt it with or without external confirmation.
There were some clunkers, sometimes our secondhand gear broke, sometimes I had no voice- we were still great. It is this belief that made us who we were, but also many other things, all of them vital-
And all of the things that made us great were the very things that were going to end us-

Fiction. Friction. Creation. Destruction. Opposition. Aggression. Ambition. Heart. Hate. Courage. Spite. Beauty. Desperation. LOVE. Fear. Glamour. Weakness. Hope.

Fatalism.

That last one is very important. My Chemical Romance had, built within its core, a fail-safe. A doomsday device, should certain events occur or cease occurring, would detonate. I shared knowledge of this “flaw” within weeks of its inception.
Personally, I embraced it because, again, it made us perfect. A perfect machine, beautiful, yet self aware of it’s system. Under directive to terminate before it becomes compromised. To protect the idea- at all costs. This probably sounds like something ripped from the pages of a four-color comic book, and that’s the point.
No compromise. No surrender. No fucking shit.

To me that’s rock and roll. And I believe in rock and roll.

I wasn’t shy about who I said this to, not the press, or a fan, or a relative. It’s in the lyrics, it’s in the banter. I often watched the journalists snicker at mention of it, assuming I was being sensational or melodramatic (in their defense I was most likely dressed as an apocalyptic marching-band leader with a tear-away hospital gown and a face covered in expressionist paint, so fair enough).
I’m still not sure if the mechanism worked correctly, because it wasn’t a bang but a much slower process. But still the same result, and still for the same reason-

When it’s time, we stop.

It is important to understand that for us, the opinion on whether or not it is in fact time does not transmit from the audience. Again, this is to protect the idea for the benefit of the audience. Many a band have waited for external confirmation that it is time to hang it up, via ticket sales, chart positioning, boos and bottles of urine- input that holds no sway for us, and often too late when it comes anyway.

You should know it in your being, if you listen to the truth inside you. And voice inside became louder than the music.

Now-
There are many reasons My Chemical Romance ended. The triggerman is unimportant, as was always the messengers- but the message, again as always, is the important thing. But to reiterate, this is my account, my reasons and my feelings. And I can assure you there was no divorce, argument, failure, accident, villain, or knife in the back that caused this, again this was no one’s fault, and it had been quietly in the works, whether we knew it or not, long before any sensationalism, scandal, or rumor.

There wasn’t even a blaze of glory in a hail of bullets…

I am backstage in Asbury Park, New Jersey. It is Saturday, May 19th, 2012 and I am pacing behind a massive black curtain that leads to the stage. I feel the breeze from the ocean find its way around me and I look down at my arms, which are covered in fresh gauze due to a losing battle with a heat rash, which had been a mysterious problem in recent months. I am normally not nervous before a show but I am certainly filled with angry butterflies most of the time. This is different- a strange anxiety jetting through me that I can only imagine is the sixth sense one feels before their last moments alive. My pupils have zeroed-out and I have ceased blinking. My body temperature is icy.
We get the cue to hit the stage.

The show is… good. Not great, not bad, just good. The first thing I notice take me by surprise is not the enormous amount of people in front of us but off to my left- the shore and the vastness of the ocean. Much more blue than I remembered as a boy. The sky is just as vibrant. I perform, semi-automatically, and something is wrong.
I am acting. I never act on stage, even when it appears that I am, even when I’m hamming it up or delivering a soliloquy. Suddenly, I have become highly self-aware, almost as if waking from a dream. I began to move faster, more frantic, reckless- trying to shake it off- but all it began to create was silence. The amps, the cheers, all began to fade.

All that what left was the voice inside, and I could hear it clearly. It didn’t have to yell- it whispered, and said to me briefly, plainly, and kindly- what it had to say.

What it said is between me and the voice.

I ignored it, and the following months were full of suffering for me- I hollowed out, stopped listening to music, never picked up a pencil, started slipping into old habits. All of the vibrancy I used to see became de-saturated. Lost. I used to see art or magic in everything, especially the mundane- the ability was buried under wreckage.

Slowly, once I had done enough damage to myself, I began to climb out of the hole. Clean. When I made it out, the only thing left inside was the voice, and for the second time in my life, I no longer ignored it- because it was my own.

There are many roles for all of us to play in this ending. We can be well-wishers, ill-wishers, sympathizers, vilifiers, comedians, rain clouds, victims-

That last one, again, is important. I have never thought myself a victim, nor my comrades, nor the fans- especially not the fans. For us to adopt that role right now would legitimize everything the tabloids have tried to name us. More importantly, it completely misses the point of the band. And then what have we learned?

With honor, integrity, closure, and on no one’s terms but our own- the door closes.

And another opens-

This morning I awoke early. I quickly brushed my teeth, threw on some baggy jeans, and hopped in my car. I gently sped down the 405 through the morning fog to a random parking lot in Palo Verde, where I was to meet a nice gentleman named Norm. He was older, and a self-proclaimed “hippie” but he also had the energy of Sixteen year old in a garage-rock band. The purpose of the meeting was the delivery of an amplifier into my possession. I had recently purchased the amp from him and we both agreed that shipping would jostle the tubes- so he was kind enough to meet me in the middle.
A Fender Princeton Amp from 1965, non reverb. A beautiful little device.

He showed me the finer points, the speaker, the non-grounded plug, the original label and the chalk mark of the man or woman who built it-

“This amp talks.” he said.
I smiled.
We got coffee, talked about gold-foil pickups and life. We sat in the car and played each other music we had made. We parted ways, promising to stay in touch, I drove home.

When I wanted to start My Chemical Romance, I began by sitting in my parent’s basement, picking up an instrument I had long abandoned for the brush- a guitar. It was a 90’s Fender Mexican Stratocaster, Lake Placid Blue, but in my youth I had decided it was too clean and pretty so I beat it up, exposing some of the red paint underneath the blue- the color it was meant to be. Adding a piece of duct tape on the pick guard, it felt acceptable. I plugged this into a baby Crate Amp with built in distortion and began the first chords of Skylines and Turnstiles.

I still have that guitar, and it’s sitting next to The Princeton.
He has a voice, and I would like to hear what it has to say.

In closing, I want to thank every single fan. I have learned from you, maybe more than you think you’ve learned from me. My only regret is that I am awful with names and bad with goodbyes. But I never forget a face, or a feeling- and that is what I have left from all of you.
I feel Love.

I feel love for you, for our crew, our team, and for every single human being I have shared the band and stage with-

Ray. Mikey. Frank. Matt. Bob. James. Todd. Cortez. Tucker. Pete. Michael. Jarrod.

Since I am bad with goodbyes. I refuse to let this be one. But I will leave you with one last thing-

My Chemical Romance is done. But it can never die.
It is alive in me, in the guys, and it is alive inside all of you.
I always knew that, and I think you did too.

Because it is not a band-
it is an idea.

Love,
Gerard

Seventeen Reaction to them making you cry during a fight

A/N: This is my own personal opinion, I’m not saying that the boys are like this, I don’t know them. I’m just not about those unrealistic imagines where they’re too nice and coddling you; from what I know through being a fan, this is how I think they’d be. 

Seungcheol/S.Coups: It would be your first fight and neither of you would know what to expect from the other. You’d always seen Cheol as this loving caring character so it honestly surprised and scared you when he yelled at you. He immediately reigned himself in and regained his cool but tears were already pricking at your eyes as you gaped up at him, not knowing who it was that stood before you right now. “Shit… Y/N I’m sorry…” He would honestly feel so helpless bc all he wanted to do was just coddle you and make all your sadness go away but dammit he was the cause this time. You guys would probably have a far more reasonable conversation after that, working through whatever the problem was.

Jeonghan: Jeonghan just strikes me as a super bitter person when he’s mad like if he was really mad he would go after something you were insecure about just because he knew it would hurt you even if he didn’t mean what he said at all. And so you and Jeonghan would probably be having the worst fight of your entire relationship and you guys would be screaming profanities at each other. At one point Jeonghan would just take it too far and you wouldn’t reply, staring at him in disbelief. You were trying so hard not to cry all this time but you couldn’t help it anymore. Jeonghan would immediately sober, “N-No.. I’m sorry…I swear I didn’t… I didn’t mean it..” He would whimper and immediately step towards you, his heart breaking when you stepped away.

Joshua/Jisoo: Joshua seems like he’d be really cruel when he’s upset too but more of in a petty way. Like I think he’d be the type to continuously bring up old stuff while you guys fought. And you’d cry more out of frustration than anything else because you weren’t sure how much more you had to do for him to forgive you for things in the past. “Are you really trying to cleanse your own guilt by bringing up my old mistakes!?” You would yell, tears streaming down your face. His face would sober slightly and he’d clench his teeth, upset but realizing he was in the wrong too. “Can we just not talk for like 5 minutes..” he’d whisper as he hugged you tightly, “Can we both calm down before we talk about this again?”

Jun/Junhui: I feel like if he’s gotten to the point of yelling then this fight is something that has gone way too big; Jun seems like a calm person that tries to make peace as much as he can. Even if he did yell though, even before he saw you cry he would sober, realizing that he needed to calm down. Jun seems like the kind of person who never raises his voice, so for him to do so would surprise even him. The sobering would only speed up if he saw tears in your eyes. He seems like the type to just pull your head into his chest and sigh to himself, holding you. “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have yelled… We’re not going to come to any sort of understanding by yelling at each other,” and he’d cup your cheeks, making you look up at him, “I’ll order takeout, lets just sit and talk okay? Communication is the key to relationships or the heart of relationships– whatever you know what I mean!” 

Hoshi/Soonyoung: Honestly I feel like whatever her did would be an accident. Soonyoung just seems like he’s not prone to yelling at people or anything but he’d probably be kinda inconsiderate if he was stressed about something. Like how he didn’t listen to Minghao’s idea lol. Like you’d probably need to discuss something important with him like you would understand if this was like you had a bad day and you need to vent like he can’t drop all his responsibilities for you just because you’re sad but this is an important thing like idk maybe you two are moving in together or your dog is sick idk its important. And he’s just not taking you seriously he’s just like “Later Y/N, this is really important okay?” and you’re so fed up and you’re just “So is this!” “Listen this is my job, you have to be more understanding about this, I can’t compromise this okay?” and you’re just looking at him like so betrayed and you’re tearing up “But you can compromise me… Okay.” and you say it so softly like you’re not understanding why he’s making you out to be the crazy person. And this kid finally sees clearly like oh no… tears, those are tears, I caused those tears oh no. And he’s like “You know I didn’t mean it like that..” “I know… but sometimes that’s really what it feels like..” And he tries to explain but you’re like no i want a real proper discussion so you finish whatever it is you need to do for work and then we’ll talk. 

Wonwoo: The type of man that is probably really good at the silent treatment. Like you both probably had a very passive aggressive back and forth until a silent cold war began in the house. He wouldn’t speak to you, he wouldn’t stay if you came into the room, he wouldn’t even look at you. Honestly he knew that he was being immature but it was one of those things that he had already taken too far and now he wasn’t sure how to stop. Besides you were probably even more mad at him now and if he went and talked to you after this grand show that he had put on, he’d be sacrificing his pride wouldn’t he? It wasn’t until you grabbed his arm as he was trying to leave, your voice shaking as you looked at him teary eyed, “If you’re going to act like I don’t exist then at least break up with me so I can get closure.” and that gets his attention real fast, man is whipping around like what break up what no “I don’t want that..” “Then talk to me! At least look at me for god’s sake!” and that’s how you guys end up having a heart to heart about whatever problem you were fighting about and potentially both of you end up crying. 

Jihoon/Woozi: It’s a long standing cliche that Jihoon works a lot and all the fics portray him as someone who doesn’t give him s/o enough attention. Truthfully it’s not that he doesn’t give you enough attention, its that he’s just stretched so thin that he doesn’t have time to show you how much he loves you sometimes. You’ve always been understanding about this, you’d never ever complain and only encourage him about it; but that just made him too lax in giving you his time. Maybe a month would’ve gone by and you wouldn’t have seen him once, his texts were always brief and his phone calls practically nonexistent. You wanted to be understanding but you had limits too. You’d call him, hoping that you could have some sort of discussion but almost minutes into you calling he immediately goes “Oh Y/N can I call you back, something came up.” and he’d be using a bluetooth so he wouldn’t hang up, he’d just start doing whatever it was that came up. You would assume he had hung up and couldn’t stop the tears that pricked at your eyes, “seriously…” you sniffle, “let’s just break up Lee Jihoon, you can date your job instead.” and you’d say it so bitterly, assuming he wasn’t there anymore but he’d be frozen on the other end, feeling sick to his stomach “Wh-What…?” and then he’d try to get out of the office to see you but if he couldn’t he’d force you to at least FaceTime him. 

Seokmin/Dokyeom: I don’t think he’d make you cry in the sense that he says something that makes you cry. With Seokmin it’s probably a slow rise of things that are happening but he seems like the type to always pretend that everything is okay; he might think that the only way to not lose you is to never fight. Seokmin also seems like the kind of person who hates confrontation so even if you try to bring it up he’d probably dodge and just make it seem like everything was okay. Inevitably that leads you to thinking maybe you’re the problem and that maybe you’re just too sensitive. And one day you just snap, you just start crying and you can’t stop. Luckily it was a day off for you that day but you were supposed to spend it going on a date with Seokmin. When you cancelled on him with a really flimsy excuse, he immediately went to your place. His hand would hover over the door but he pulled it back and just fished out his spare key to your apartment, not knowing what was wrong with you and not wanting to make you get up if you were sick or something. Walking in on you clutching your pillow for dear life, sobbing your heart out would make him panic in all sorts of ways. He’d probably just stand there frozen as he softly called out your name. You’d panic, acting like you weren’t just crying and one second you’re asking him how he got in and the next you’re in a warm hug, holding you tightly like you were were only thing keeping that person alive. You guys would talk eventually but a lot of it is just hugging tbh y’all have a bonding moment. 

Mingyu: He seems like he’d try to just smile and be like “why are you being like this..? Calm down..” whenever you tried to fight with him. He also seems like he takes criticism a bit to heart so whenever you tell him anything you’re worried that he’s going to get really insecure about it. And its frustrating for you. Usually you just try to take it and stop getting upset but it honestly made you feel like you were being unreasonable or psychotic every time but it wasn’t his fault either because you tended to never criticize him so when you did it seemed like it was out of the blue. You two have a very bad communication situation please work on that. But yes anyway so one time he says this and you literally lose your mind like you just start tearing up and you crouch on the ground like hugging your knees like you’re sniffling and just in a crouched position and he’s !?!?!?!? and like slowly walking up to you like “Hey… hey please don’t cry.. I’m sorry..” but tbh he has no idea what he’s apologizing for until you whisper “I’m not crazy.. stop acting like every time I say something I’m being crazy and unreasonable..” and hes very ??? “I know you aren’t crazy.. I just don’t think fighting helps and that we should talk about it” “But we don’t! You tell me to calm down and then we pretend everything is just dandy!” and that’s how you guys have your first ever proper discussion and put it all on the table. You grow as a couple tbh. 

Minghao/The8: I don’t think it would be from an actual fight. Minghao sometimes tends to take his jokes too far and while he immediately makes up for it when he realizes he might’ve hurt the person’s feelings, if you’re not the type to immediately show on your face that you’re upset he might think you were okay with it. Especially if you laughed and said something back like you probably didn’t want to make a big deal out of nothing and come off as sensitive so you’d try to play it cool. But one day you may just be having a bad day and he’d say something, not realizing that you weren’t feeling well and you’d blow up. “Do you have to be like that all the time!? Am I not human? Do you think I don’t have feelings?” and he’s just staring at you like shellshocked because where is this coming from, what did he do, oh god are you crying– “I-I was just kidding.. I didn’t–” “I know it’s my fault for not saying anything but how can I we’ve only been dating for a few months and I didn’t want to come off as crazy or sensitive but I have limits okay…” and you’re just rubbing at your eyes angrily because you feel like you’re throwing a fit and you feel crazy and sensitive. But then Minghao is cupping your face and walking close till he can rest his forehead on your comfortably. “You’re not crazy or sensitive. If something I do hurts you, you have to tell me, how am I supposed to be a good boyfriend if I’m hurting your feelings all the time? I’m sorry okay? I swear I don’t mean any of it. Pinky promise.” 

Seungkwan: Seungkwan is your biggest supporter, he’s everyone’s biggest fanboy. But usually everyone doesn’t reciprocate back to him the way he cheers them on. Everyone loves him, but they don’t always show it. And that’s why he makes you cry, not because he hurts you but because he just looks so pitiful as he pours his heart out to you, admitting that it hurts him when you don’t cheer him on or congratulate him and he realizes that it’s not like everyone can be as extra as him but its still unpleasant when all someone says is congratulations. And you can’t help but cry as you hug him, not realizing that you had been hurting him all this time. Out of the two of you Seungkwan had always been the more exuberant one and you didn’t realize that he was expecting it back but you vowed to do better from that day forth. 

Vernon: I just can’t see him making anyone cry? Like he’s just too soft of a person? If anything he’s the one that’s crying? I dunno man.. If he were to make his s/o cry it’s probably like a you’re both just so stressed and its tears of frustration because he just can’t seem to get what you’re saying; you’ve reiterated your point about 10 times already and he still doesn’t understand why you’re upset and you’re at your wits end and ready to scream. And so you start crying because if you’re like me you cry when it gets too much. Your fight would probably pause with you telling him to forget it and walking out on him. The poor boy probably wouldn’t get why he was in the wrong until he went and asked his members tbh. 

Chan/Dino: He seems really old for his age. Not old, that’s mean, mature, he’s mature for his age. And because of that sometimes he finds what his older members do to be quite childish and kind of sighs at them like “Hyung wyd.” Like he’s still a bright child that knows how to have fun don’t get me wrong; its just sometimes it feels like Dino could blend into Hyung line and people who don’t know svt that well wouldn’t be surprised if you told them he was one of the older ones. So if his s/o was a person that had moments of hyperness, if he was really tired, he’d sometimes put a hand on your arm like “Y/N why are you yelling babe” And so it would honestly just be a huge misunderstanding; he’d do it a few times in one week and you’d start wondering if he found you annoying. You’d probably try to stop it all together but you’d have a moment of too much excitement randomly and he’d laugh and ask you to stop yelling and you wouldn’t know what came over you but smh you’re tearing up and Chan is sat up like !!! shoot what what did i say omg. “Sorry.. I just.. I can’t help it sometimes.. I know it’s annoying.. I’m sorry..” and hes like ??? what do you mean? Its not annoying my head just hurts right now???? And you all talk about it finally basically the moral of this entire post is, talk about things with your s/o if you want a healthy relationship. 

anonymous asked:

So I'm really needing some bughead multiple orgasms or denied orgasm smut and I'm blushing so hard as a read this 😳😳😳 the phrase "don't come" does crazy things to me...

Well hello anon! You’re blushing? You should see me after writing this haha

Sorry for the wait on this one! I hope this is sort of what you were after!

warnings: smut. smut. smut. sin. smut. more sin. more smut. I’m going to hell because smut. 


In the Night: 

It’s late; her room shrouded with darkness, the soft pinks and coordinated pastels disappearing into shades of black. Betty likes the nights. She likes the stillness outside her window, the insanity of the town fading away for a few hours as the people slept. The line drawn between the North and South sides of Riverdale ever so stark in the day, blurring into the cloak of ebony; still inherently there, but easier to ignore.  

But there was one thing about the nights that she liked far more than any of its rivals. And that thing was the dark haired boy that climbed through her window as the hours of late night morphed into early morning.

He would clamber through the frame sometimes with a charming smile on his lips and a light in his eyes, sometimes with a deep frown and a tense jaw. Sometimes he would find her with clenched fists and tear stained cheeks, other nights a playful smirk and a teasing comment. His beanie discarded, her hair down they would talk into the next day about school, movies, books and his new home, about civil wars and leather jackets, about well-established facades, jailed fathers, pregnant sisters, and struggling friends.

Sometimes they would lie comfortably on the bed, leaning into each other, subtle brushes of hands on skin or through hair. And other nights-nights like this one- their embraces were much more passionate, their intent far from innocent. On nights like this, they would muffle moans in pillows and necks; make the other writhe as they succumbed to the inferno they had built. Their eyes would meet heady and dark, a breath would hitch, a groan would resound, fingers reaching, filthy words whispered in ears. It was slow and sensual, hot and heavy, fast and passionate; an intricate push and pull of control.

Keep reading

Okay, but whatever you’re doing, certainly don’t think about how sad the events after Aragorn’s death were.

Don’t think about two graves next to his, only half the size. And the one between them that’s not empty anymore, and the people wondering what those two did to deserve to be buried next to king Elessar. They were just halflings, the Gondorians will think.

Don’t think about Arwen, who sees all the elves sailing away, but she can’t, and she does not regret any second of her mortal life, but it just hurts. so. much. And she’s alone in the dying Lórien, slowly dying with it.

Don’t think about her conversation with Legolas, the cheerful Legolas, who loves Middle-Earth so much, but he just can’t stay. Don’t think of their mourning of Aragorn and their goodbye, because he can’t even accompany her, but he promises he will tell Elrond and Celebrian and everyone she wants that she thinks of them and loves them so much.

Don’t think that Legolas was so young. Don’t think that he could have stayed with the remaining elves, but he knew he would feel lonely even among his own kin and race. So he takes the only person who is dear to him and can at least partly understand him. And he leaves his beloved home, his Ithilien, and desperately tries to save, to prolong a life of just one friend, while the dwarf is still alive.

Don’t think about the last moments of the Fellowship, as the little grey ship sailed into the West.

Just don’t.