❝ i play to win. ❞ ❝ this is my curse. ❞ ❝ wait for me! ❞
❝ your mother would’ve been proud of you. ❞
❝ let us hope for a different outcome. ❞
❝ sorry it’s such a mess in here. i-i wasn’t expecting company. ❞
❝ this is going to make you feel better. ❞
❝ the true enemy of humanity is disorder. ❞ ❝ a steady blade balances the soul. ❞ ❝ this is just like old times. ❞ ❝ even here i feel an outcast. ❞
❝ think you can do my job, do you… ❞
❝ all eyes on me! ❞
❝ ooh, this is my jam. ❞
❝ got your aim from your mom, i see. ❞
❝ i’ll feast on your soul. ❞ ❝ cheers, love! the cavalry’s here! ❞ ❝ our paths cross for now. as to the future, we shall see. ❞ ❝ we could’ve built an empire together. ❞ ❝ ah. just setting foot here sets my soul at ease. ❞ ❝ this time, stay down. ❞
❝ can i get your autograph? ❞
❝ why are you so angry? ❞
❝ ever get that feeling of déjà vu? ❞ ❝ i am a different man now. i am whole. ❞ ❝ over my dead body. ❞
❝ i’m on top of the world! ❞
❝ i’m patched up. ❞
❝ kids today with techno music. you should enjoy the classics, like hasselhoff. ❞
❝ what’s wrong? don’t you recognize me? ❞ ❝ aren’t you warm wearing all that? ❞
❝ can’t stop, won’t stop. ❞
❝ i’ll race ya! ❞
❝ mock death at your own peril. ❞ ❝ this time, i will finish the job. ❞
❝ death is an illusion. ❞
❝ look at this team! we’re gonna do great. ❞
❝ i am beyond redemption. ❞
❝ it looks like we will be working together. ❞ ❝ you’ve rescued me again. ❞
❝ i will not be defeated so easily. ❞
❝ treasure? s-sure, i don’t know anything you’re talking about. ❞
❝ so this is what has become of you? a pity.❞
❝ you’re so amazing! you inspire me. ❞ ❝ i miss him greatly. ❞ ❝ there is nowhere to hide. ❞ ❝ whatcha’ lookin’ at? ❞
❝ woo, nothing’s gonna stop me. ❞
❝ that was your dream, not mine. ❞ ❝ what you call freedom is an illusion that causes more harm than good. ❞ ❝ hehe, there’s something on your dress.. ❞
❝ you have been judged! ❞
❝ i have the upper hand this time. ❞
❝ traitor! ❞
❝ you will never amount to anything! ❞
❝ i’ve got my eye on you. ❞
❝ lot of memories of this place. they weren’t all bad. ❞
❝ the heart of a man still beats inside of me. ❞
❝ stay out of trouble. ❞
❝ step into my parlor said the spider to the fly. ❞
❝ one shot, one kill. ❞
❝ don’t think i’m happy about that. ❞
❝ now this place? makes me wanna be an atheist. ❞
❝ our world is worth fighting for. ❞
❝ you haven’t aged a day. what’s your secret? ❞
❝ ooooh, shiny! ❞
❝ oh, did that sting? ❞
❝ heroes never die. ❞
❝ where does it hurt? ❞
❝ you’re just a no-good bully. ❞
❝ i’m a one-man apocalypse. ❞
❝ you should look somewhere else. ❞
❝ you said you would arm wrestle me. nervous? ❞
❝ i learned that from my brother. ❞
❝ i hope nobody saw that. ❞
❝ on a scale of one to ten, how is your pain? ❞
❝ i’m not a miracle worker. well… not always. ❞
❝ this was once my home. no longer. ❞
❝ sorry! sorry, i’m sorry. sorry. ❞
❝ i remember being here. it was good for my tan. ❞
❝ wish i’d practice my japanese more, konichiwa! ❞
❝ you need a time out. ❞
❝ you might not want to tell your friends about that. ❞
❝ guess we know who’s really on top, don’t we? ❞
❝ with every death, comes honor. with honor, redemption. ❞
❝ a punishment for your crimes. ❞
❝ i will be on my best behaviour. ❞
❝ you think there’s something worth stealing in that temple? ❞
❝ people should be free. ❞
❝ you were never my equal. ❞
❝ death walks among you. ❞ ❝ last i checked, i didn’t ask for your opinion. ❞ ❝ you can’t be serious. ❞ ❝ they’re back. ❞ ❝ armor? how positively primitive. ❞ ❝ now this is my kinda city, everyone’s free to live as they choose. ❞
❝ you need a time out. ❞ ❝ die! die! die! ❞ ❝ to think i would have to work with a street ruffian. ❞ ❝ death comes. ❞ ❝ one of these days someone is gonna to put an end to you. ❞
❝ that which doesn’t kill you…makes you stronger.. ❞
❝ well. you sure take to this bad guy thing easily, don’t ya? ❞
❝ aren’t you supposed to be dead? ❞
❝ i’ll tell you my secret if you give me your coat. ❞
❝ sleep. ❞
❝ never liked you much. ❞
❝ never leave a teammate behind. ❞
❝ together we are strong. ❞
❝ you won’t get rid of me that easily. ❞
❝ i don’t even think children are afraid of you. ❞
❝ i taught you everything you know. ❞
❝ it’s hard to just sit around knowing there’s someone out there that needs to be blown up. ❞
❝ i’ll put an end to your sad story. ❞
❝ you havin’ trouble keeping up? ❞
❝ i have destroyed more of your kind than i can count. ❞
❝ it’s a perfect day for some mayhem. ❞
❝ we’re all soldiers now. ❞
❝ give me your best shot. ❞
❝ you knew exactly what were you doing. ❞ ❝ knock me down, and i’ll keep getting back up. ❞ ❝ you always did have a high opinion of yourself. ❞
❝ i’m not a young man anymore. ❞
❝ still trying to play hero? ❞
❝ i sometimes wonder if your height is why you’re always in such a bad mood. ❞
❝ this is no place for children. ❞
❝ the world could always use more heroes. ❞
❝ looked in a mirror lately? ❞
❝ Me one, bad guys zero. ❞
❝ i’m gonna have to shoot you down. ❞
❝ this old dog has learned a few tricks. ❞ ❝ another one off the list. ❞
❝ i love your glasses, so cute! ❞
❝ if at first you don’t succeed…blow it up again! ❞
❝ that’s for my family back home! ❞
❝ i’ve got you in my sights. ❞
❝ i’m the one who does his job. i’m thinking… you’re the other one. ❞
❝ you weren’t given those guns to toss them away like trash. ❞
❝ i will protect the innocent. ❞
He doesn’t know who the kid is, at first. All he sees is a small, blond first year with bright eyes and a frown frozen on his face as he picks at the pies on the table. All the other Hufflepuffs are happily digging into the feast, but this first year is upset and displeased and Jack is all the way at the Gryffindor table, but he wants to go over and make the kid smile.
So he does.
Well, after the feast.
“Hey!” Jack calls out as he runs to the kid, as Shitty and the rest of the Quidditch team stare at him like he’s been possessed.
And maybe he has been possessed. He’s kind of a shitty Gryffindor, all shy and insecure and gruff and an introvert. He’s the complete opposite of his best friend and his team. He never approaches new people, barely approaches people he knows. But there’s something about this kid…
“What?” the Hufflepuff asks defensively, tensing up at Jack easily catches up to him. Merlin, he’s so small.
And wow, Jack really didn’t think this through.
The Hufflepuff raises an eyebrow, but he relaxes. “Are you okay?”
“Yes! Are you okay, though…I mean, you were frowning all through the feast and you’re a first year-”
“…Why were you staring at me during the feast?”
Shit, that made him sound like a creep. “You were the only person frowning.” Nailed it.
The Hufflepuff shrugs, looking down at his feet. “The pies were all wrong.”
“The pies!” the kid huffs, glaring up at Jack, “they were stiff and bland and lukewarm and those aren’t pies.”
Jack blinks. “Have you tried talking to the elves about it?” That was an easy fix.
“Elves?” the Hufflepuff blinks, “elves exist!?”
“I- are you a Muggleborn?” That would explain why he hadn’t recognized Jack. It’s usually the muggleborns that don’t recognize his face that looks too much like his father’s sometimes. Great Bob Zimmermann, savior of the Wizarding World and Quidditch player, and his son, just Jack.
“Yeah?” the kid looks at him with trepidation. “Is that a problem?”
“No!” Jack exclaims, “no, it’s fine! You just seemed surprised! But yeah, there are house elves that work the kitchen! They’re…actually right by the Hufflepuff dormitory if you want me to show you.”
The kid smiles for the first time that night. “That’d be swell!”
“Right,” Jack starts to walk towards the kitchens, trying to walk slow enough that the kid can keep up. “By the way, my name is Jack. Gryffindor.”
“It’s Eric, Eric Bittle!” the kid, Eric, says, walking with a spring in his step. “But you can call me Bitty. It’s what, uh…Johnson, it’s what Johnson calls me! I’m a Hufflepuff, obviously. Johnson is my prefect and you probably already knew that-”
“Nice to meet you, Bitty.” The babble was kind of cute.
“Pleasure to meet you, Jack!”
Jack first notices Bitty on Halloween, but it wouldn’t be the last time he’d notice him.
Friday 11:56 p.m.
my lips are tangled into
his and my body is full of
life while we are exchanging
love on an empty mattress,
but kissing you on the floor
of the kitchen was by far
the best part.
Saturday 4:56 a.m
his being was born of woman
and embodied poetry. he was
the type of art that was hard
to forget. he was the type of art
I saw in museums, and parks, and monuments. he could destroy me
in the most beautiful way possible.
he knew how to decorate space
and he was the symphony that
decorated my time.
Sunday 2:31 p.m.
I’ve learned I like you.
you’re eyes are full of
language. I will learn
his anger. I will lick
his sadness. I will
feast on his hunger.
this is the place I want
to call home. I want to
learned what it means
to dance alone to the
hymn inside his chest.
Monday 8:43 p.m
it was kind to love on you
yet I cold heartedly to nibble
on your neck as a gesture
of a million stars burning
for you as if i didn’t want
to forget this the next
morning, the moment
you let go.
Tuesday 4:28 p.m.
he leaves today. I cried in
his arms. I buried my face
into his chest. love, teach
me how to be a hero. show
me what it means to stay
and I’ll write you a tragedy.
I did this as an example for my art students on Friday when they were trying watercolors. I did it during lunch and it was a lot of fun even though the cloud is kinda meh. I like painting space. The original paper was more pale like the second one, but I darkened it and then couldn’t decide which I liked better, so here’s both :D
Hooray hooray, it’s #FridayReads! It’s a frosty Friday here in Washington, DC, so I’m curling up with Leigh Bardugo’s Crooked Kingdom – my library hold finally came through, AWW YEAH!
Friend of the Desk Colin Dwyer is still having his tiny mind blown by The Master and Margarita.
Arts Desk Editor Nina Gregory is rereading A Wrinkle in Time, which prompted an email-chain nostalgia festival with the rest of us.
Code Switch’s Karen Grigsby Bates is working on Ta-Nehisi Coates’ excellent essay in the Atlantic, “My President Was Black,” and also feasting her eyes on Nichelle Gainer’s new Vintage Black Glamour volume: “Gorgeous book with gorgeous
photos of black men from all walks of life (ambassadors, entertainers, artists,
athletes, etc) from the early 19th Century through the 70s.“
And Boss Lady Ellen scored an advance copy of The Way of the Strangers, Graeme Wood’s book on the Islamic State – stay tuned for an interview with Wood on Morning Edition next week.
“I don’t know if I can do this,” you sighed. You were standing at the edge of the training field, Ivar sitting on a barrel just behind you. For once you both were alone, his brothers off in Kattegat dealing with some foreign traders.
“Of course you can.” Ivar leaned forward, draping an arm around your shoulders. “Imagine it’s my brother’s stupid face.”
You frowned, recalling how Sigurd had mocked your poor archery skills only a few days ago in the feasting hall in front of everyone. Face crimson, you had excused yourself hastily, hoping to find somewhere to burst into tears, only to run into Ivar in a small alcove.
“Why are you crying?” He didn’t sound interested, but you told him anyway. When he heard his brother’s name, Ivar’s pale eyes lit up.
“Would you like to get a little revenge?”
For the next couple of days, you had been practicing on the training field, making sure to pick times when the other Lothbrok sons weren’t around. Today was your big day, to prove it had paid off.
“Go on.” Ivar held out an arrow.
Sighing, you took it from him and nocked it to the bow, gripping the smooth wood tightly. Remember to relax. You sucked in a deep breath, the wooden target seeming miles away.
“You can do this.”
Hearing Ivar’s voice, you began to ease your grip on the bow. Squinting, you pulled the string taut and began mentally counting.
One, two, three…Now!
The arrow flew through the air, your eyes following its every move. A solid thunk echoed through the trees. Lowering the bow, it was all you could to to believe your own eyesight as you saw the arrow embedded firmly in the center of the target.
“I did it!” You jumped up and down like a little girl, forgetting for once that you were a shield-maiden-in-training. “I did it, Ivar!”
He smiled at you, his normally icy eyes filled with an unusual warmth. “I knew you could.”
This is for all my new followers and those who have been liking my Viking posts. You guys rock!
For the lovely anon who requested it. I’m a bit nervous becaude it’s the first request I’ve ever done but I hope that’s what you had in mind.
The great hall of Kattegat was full
of people. Guests from a neighboring kingdom had come to talk about better trade
conditions. The negotiations had gone well and now there was a big feast to
celebrate the new alliance. You were sitting next to Ivar on the long table. His
hand rested on yours while you listened to the stories that were told and jokes
that were made. As you looked down the table you noticed that Sigurd was
staring at you. You raised an eyebrow at him and he looked away.
Later that night you were sitting on
one of the benches that were standing along the wall of the hall as Ubbe came
over to you and handed you a horn of meat.
“Why are you sitting here all by
“I’m watching the people. You can
learn a lot about people by just watching them.”
Ubbe laughed a little and shook his
head. “You and my little brother really fit together, you know. It’s like you
are sharing one mind. It’s kind of scary sometimes.”
“Sounds like you have never
witnessed one of our arguments.”
“I have. That’s even scarier.”
Both of you laughed.
“I love him but he can be so
stubborn sometimes.” You looked over to Ivar, who was still sitting at the
table, now talking to one of your guests.
Ubbe grinned at you. “Even more
stubborn than you?”
You laughed again.
You were still talking to Ubbe as
Sigurd came over to you and dropped himself on the bench next to you.
“Y/N you look beautiful tonight.”
“Thank you, Sigurd.”
By the way he was talking and moving
you could tell that he was quite drunk. As he put his arm around your shoulders
you thought about shrugging it off but decided to ignore it.
“I’ve been watching you.” He said.
“Yeah, I noticed.”
“Why are you with Ivar?” Sigurd
wanted to know and put his hand on your thigh, slowly sliding it upwards.
“You should keep your hands to
yourself, little brother, if you don’t want Ivar to cut them off.” Ubbe said
before you could react.
Sigurd laughed at him but removed
his hands from you. You gave Ubbe a thankful smile. If you had fought Sigurd
off it had probably made some fuss and you didn’t want Ivar to notice. The war
between the two brothers was bad enough as it was.
You felt a hand on your shoulder and
turned to see Floki. “I think your prince is feeling neglected.” He whispered into
your ear, then he laughed and left.
Your eyes searched for Ivar and
found him looking at you with a gloomy expression on his face. He met your
gaze, his blue eyes piercing through you. After a few seconds he looked away. Letting
out a sigh, you went over to him and put and an arm around him from behind his
chair. As he showed no reaction you sat down on the chair next to him.
“Is everything okay?”
For few seconds he didn’t react at
all, then he looked at you, his eyes full of anger. “Did you have fun with
“He’s just drunk.”
“And maybe you are up for some drunk
“How can you say that?”
His words and his cold eyes made you
feel guilty although you knew there was nothing to be guilty about. It made you
angry that he had such an influence on you.
“If you really think so badly of me
than maybe you better go and find someone else.” With that you jumped out of
your seat and stormed towards the door.
“I might just do that.” Ivar yelled
As you left the hall the cold air of
the night made you shiver. You had no idea where you were going you just had to
get away from them all. Angry and sad at the same time you leaned against a
shed and fought the tears that were forming in your eyes. Only a few moments
later you saw a dark figure approaching you. You didn’t want to talk to anyone
and kept quiet, hoping that whoever it was would just pass you. But as he came closer
you could see that it was Sigurd.
“You did not answer my question
earlier. Why are you with Ivar? Why do you keep up with stuff like this?” He
gestured towards the hall.
You took a deep breath to calm
yourself down, then you looked him in the eyes. “I’m with Ivar because I love
“You could have so much better, you
know?” He said, coming closer.
You rolled your eyes. “Are you
talking about yourself?”
“Why not?” He asked, pressing you to
the wall with his body.
“Get off me, Sigurd.” You said in a
serious tone but he ignored it and tried to kiss you.
You knew him well enough to know
that you weren’t in any actual danger but you were annoyed that he thought he
could treat you like this.
“I said get off me.” Your voice was now dangerously low and you
tried to push him away. He looked at you as if he couldn’t understand why you
would do this and tried to kiss you again but then started as something hit the
wall just inched from his head. You both turned to see an ax sticking there.
“Let go of her or the next one hits
you in the head.” The voice was menacing and undoubtably Ivar’s.
Sigurd made a slow step backwards
and you slipped past him and ran over to Ivar. You knelt down next to him and
he wrapped his arms around you.
“I’m sorry.” He whispered into your
ear. “I just can’t stand the thought of another man even looking at you. Can
you forgive me for being an idiot?”
“There’s nothing to forgive. I love
you, Ivar.” You said and grinned at him. “Even though you are sometimes an
He smiled at you. “I love you too.”
Then his smile turned into a cocky grin. “You are mine. You better never forget
Tamlin: “Lucien and I will be traveling to the border to meet with Hybern’s emissaries at dawn. I’d like for you to begin preparations for a feast to honor our guests.”
Lucien: *shocked* “Tam, you never said they’d be staying here. At the manor. Why didn’t you discuss this with me?”
Tamlin: *growling* “I am the High Lord of this court, Lucien, and you will remember your place.”
Feyre: *flashes shadow talons at Lucien, smirking wickedly*
Lucien: *glares, a bit pale*
Tamlin: “Now, Feyre, I expect the preparations to be completed and ready for my approval when I return.”
Feyre: *shyly, submissively* “Tamlin, may I accompany you to the border? You said you would allow me to be more involved.” *bats lashes*
Tamlin: “Your presence will not be needed, Feyre. You will stay here.”
Rhys: “Here we go.”
Feyre: *brushing against Tamlin’s mind* I am sunshine and flowers, a cool breeze dancing in a meadow. I am birth and life and growth. I am a trickling brook, a pool of starlight in the woods. You know me. I am Spring. I am Spring. “Feyre could indeed be useful when we meet with the emissaries. Perhaps if I involve her in some of our plans, she’ll begin to trust me again.”
Tamlin: *face relaxing* “Feyre, I’ve changed my mind. Perhaps, just this one time, you may come along.”
Lucien: *gaping, eye darting between Feyre and Tamlin* “Bu-” *sighs*
i know our relationship isn’t
romantic or anything
i’m writing songs about you on my ukulele
i can’t help it
it just happens
and screw all this bullshit
about deleting my poems so
you don’t read them
fucking read them.
feast your eyes.
devour our own
our holy immortality
This is what you’ve done to me.
And maybe you didn’t mean
to do any of it
but it’s organic,
it just happened.