#especially lesson 8 and 10 broke me. send help :>

[melverie]

⸺ LESSON 8 ⸺

Nightbringer

Solomon & Barbatos

MC's magic

situation in the Devildom

strange feelings & soup

the 'MC is human' situation

misc

- lesson 7 || lesson 9 || all posts so far -

Hi! It sure has been a while, huh? So sorry about that, I thought that maybe taking a break would make it easier for me to NOT somehow try and connect every single detail to who I want Nightbringer to be, but nope, it just made things worse. Oh well... Also, I decided to stop counting when Solomon wears his human world clothes. While it is weird that he switches that often, I don't think when he wears them has any significant meaning Also also, I know we most likely won't ever see him again, but Adam, I have my eyes on you... General spoiler warning for all of Obey Me Nightbringer, as well as for the original Obey Me

⸺ NIGHTBRINGER ⸺

once freed from the grave and inhabiting Mammon's body, Adam tells us what happened to him, and tells us a little about Nightbringer [8-16; all pics below] -> he also points out that while he does remember Nightbringer's name, he "can't be certain that was his real name" [8-16]. Interesting detail to include

Nightbringer somehow knows that MC has the Ring of Light [8-16] -> fun fact! If you're on the amnesia route, you get a flashback of Solomon briefly explaining what the Ring of Light is to MC. Also this is how I found that I was apparently on the amnesia route while replaying -> upon seeing it, the Gang™ recognizes the ring as Lucifer's, only to immediately gaslight themselves into thinking the opposite. Thank god they're all allergic to braincells

Nightbringer entrusted Adam with a message for MC; "It's not yet time for you to return" [8-18] -> I know that's probably not how they meant it, but timing-wise it kind of sounds like it's not time for MC to return to the Celestial Realm

⸺ SOLOMON & BARBATOS ⸺

disregarding the insult he throws in right after, Barbatos does speak with some respect about Solomon, and suggests that if MC wants to stay in the Devildom, it's best if they talk to Solomon about it [8-1] -> btw not him telling MC that after he teleported Solomon away

⸺ MC'S MAGIC ⸺

MC is able to pull magical power from the brothers and succeeds in opening the gate to the Celestial Realm [8-18] -> sure would be a shame if something like literally opening the gate to the Celestial Realm just like that had no repercussions whatsoever later on, huh :)

Adam says the following [8-18; pic below]. What do you mean by that, Adam???

⸺ SITUATION IN THE DEVILDOM ⸺

we learn that the relationship between the Devildom and the Celestial Realm were nearly at the breaking point, and while they are still far from stable, at least a war could be avoided [8-1] -> and yet, Simeon talks about good relations between the Devildom and the Celestial Realm back in lesson 6

we also learn that the Demon King suddenly fell into his slumber, meaning all responsibility of governing the Devildom fell onto Diavolo's shoulders. The House of Lords thinks he is too young for that though [8-1] -> apparently the Demon King fell into his slumber right after the brothers got their ranking [8-9; pic below]. Interesting timing to say the least -> this lesson in generall talks a lot about where the Demon King is

⸺ STRANGE FEELINGS & SOUP ⸺

Simeon greets MC with a "welcome home" [8-4], meaning he on some level somehow knows that MC originally lives at the House of Lamentation

MC's future room has apparently become a regular meet-up spot for the brothers, and Lucifer even takes naps in there [8-9] -> Asmodeus also describes it as "a favorite spot from your past." Interesting wording [8-9; pic below]

⸺ THE 'MC IS HUMAN' SITUATION ⸺

Diavolo claims that he can "sense something" in MC [8-1]. He himself isn't entirely sure what it is, but I'm guessing it's the angelic qualities that MC inherited from Lilith. In OG season 3 (lesson 52 iirc?), illusion angel!Lucifer also points out that MC possess those qualities

⸺ MISC ⸺

Luke claims that angels can tell when someone lies to them [8-4], yet he still 100% believes that MC is a demon

thinking about it, it is kind of interesting that MC actually wants to stay in the past. We have no option of saying that we want to go back [8-4; pic below]

MC writes a goodbye letter to the brothers that promptly proceeds to be so irrelevant to the story [8-11]

after MC successfully opened the gates to the Celestial Realm, Adam tells them this [8-18; pic below]. IN THIS WHAT, ADAM.

there's some talk about finding happiness between Lucifer and Simeon [8-A]

Lucifer is unaware why Simeon is now an archangel [8-A] -> while not stated in the lesson itself, we know that Simeon got demoted because he covered for the brothers

we learn that most past demon kings died in battle [lesson 8 hard mode]

they also bring up that humans live such short lives in comparison to demons and angels [lesson 8 hard mode]

[punksocks]

Astrology Observations No.13

-just my opinions, please take them with a grain of salt !

-Libras tend to only give significant attention to people they think are beautiful/pretty. (So if a libra man is messing around in your dms, you at least know you’re pretty! Lol) Subtly I’ve noticed that Taurus placements tend to do this as well? Like, they don’t write off people in the way some Libras do but I haven’t seen someone with Taurus in the big 6 dating someone that isn’t attractive or at least aesthetically pleasing.

-Stellium in 3rd/ mars in 3rd/ Gemini Mars and Stellium in 6th/ mars in 6th/ Virgo Mars: do you find yourself multitasking all the time? I find that multitasking helps me finish tasks faster 9 times out of 10. Like I need to have my attention in a few places at once to be efficient. (I love podcasts and drawing)

-Neptune conjunct moon, Pisces moon, moon in 12th: you have really deep intuition but not much clarity that comes with it. Like I had this like intense instinct go off that i was going to run into something one I cut off last year- and I was right! But only halfway lol, totally different dude than I expected lol. It’s like shaking a magic 8 ball, you’ve got an answer but not the answer lol.

-I agree that your moon sign shows the most of your true personality, especially as you get past like 25. But with sun conjunct moon I’ve had a tricky time spotting this. I think it’s clearest with Aries and Aquarius moons for me. Aries moons have so much energy and they grow into being real leaders as they get older, and Aquarius moons have real stand out opinions and tend to live in their uniqueness more and attempt to conform less as they get older.

-Mercury in 3rd or Gemini or natal retrograde can mean you’re incapable of writing short little text messages lol. You either write a paragraph or send a lot of little texts successively.

-I find that Venus/Libra dominant people can be very charming in public and really judgmental in private/anonymously. They don’t want their opinions to clash with their pleasing persona.

-Scorpio sun + Sagittarius moon/ Sagittarius sun + Scorpio Moon doesn’t mean you have to be wild but oml they’ve been some of the most extreme people I’ve ever met. I feel like these people are always bringing BIG energy into the room and changing things around them with that Jupiter/Pluto double whammy. (I have stories about every person I’ve known with those placements but my go to is an aunt that had a boyfriend that bought her a car and a dog and she crashed the car, abandoned the dog with my grandma, and broke up with the guy. He’s doing better now lol.)

-But on the flip side, Capricorn placements can bring in Saturn type changes and lesson to any environment they come into. I have a stellium so it’s hard for me to separate all the categories where I’ve seen places fall apart (usually work places and bad bosses but it applies to everyone)

But for sun- people get insecure and start acting from a place of ego, moon- emotional tension gets tested and people are more likely to react from petty places, Mercury- communication and technology that was patched together falls through in the weak places and systems get overwhelmed; Jupiter- Luck runs out for those that are flying by the seat of their pants and don’t really know what they’re doing; Neptune- no more delusions are allowed, lies and duplicity are exposed

And after I’ve left those places and their dysfunction behind it seems like the lessons continue on even more. I’m not sure why the effect lingers, except that Saturn will make you learn or punish you.

[marshmallow-phd]

Nine Little Letters

Genre: College AU, Fake Dating AU, To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before AU

Inspired By: This graphic made by @rcse-tvler​

Pairing: EXO x Reader

Summary: Just when you thought life was done shoving you down, it got much, much worse. After finding out that your latest crush was already in a relationship, you did what you always did when emotions ran high: you wrote a letter. Signed and sealed, you put it away with the eight other letters you’d written to past one-sided loves, never to be seen again. That is, until a mix up accidentally sends those letters out to their respective recipients and you find yourself in the middle of one confusing web of love. With fake relationships, insecurities, and revelations swirling around, things are bound to get a little messy.

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I 11

This was the worst kind of humiliation. Standing there on the sidewalk staring open-mouthed at the one person you were excited to see today, you were crumbling into a million pieces. And no one even noticed. That was what made this humiliation so bad; there was no one to witness it. You were breaking and no one cared.

You should have known better, really. This morning was going too well. You had woken up on time, had a delicious, filling breakfast, and had managed to put an outfit together worthy of any Pinterest board. Your confidence was through the roof and you were going to do the one thing in your life you swore you would never do.

You were going to confess to your crush.

Signing up for math tutoring was the last thing you wanted to do. Who in the world wanted to spend their valuable free time learning more about equations and algorithms? But you needed to pass this class. It was the second time you’d taken college algebra and the thought of taking it a third time made you want to crawl under your bed. So, you buckled down and took the walk of shame into the math lab. (Yes, that was an exaggeration. Everyone knows there is no shame in getting help. Didn’t mean you had to like it.) When you got the call from your assigned tutor, you ignored it. You didn’t like talking on the phone to anyone let alone a number you didn’t recognize. No voicemail was left. Then a text came through.

Hi, (y/n)! This Kim Junmyeon! I’ve been assigned as your math tutor. When you get a chance, let me know when you’re free so we can create a schedule that works for you. Have a great day!

You waited an appropriate amount of time before replying. So, an hour and half later, you texted him your schedule and made a plan to meet up in the library the following Thursday. You marked that day on your calendar with exactly zero enthusiasm. In your head, this Kim Junmyeon was the cliché nerd from movies: dorky glasses, snort-like laugh, and clothes that looked better on a grandfather. Oh, boy were you so happy to be wrong.

Sitting down at one of the tables by the large, ceiling high windows, Junmyeon was nothing like you’d imagined. He had a sophisticated aura about him. He dressed nicely, a thin long-sleeved shirt over a patterned button down, the collar laid nicely over the top of the shirt, and was blessed with sharp, handsome features. You knew you were in trouble. But you didn’t care. You sat down at that table eagerly, ready to… learn.

For the past month and a half, you’d met Junmyeon twice a week to go over the lessons and work on the assignments. By some miracle, your grade was actually going up in the class. Somehow you were able to better comprehend the material and secretly fawn over your tutor simultaneously. At this point, you were sort of feigning how much you weren’t understanding to keep the tutoring sessions going. The nice thing about algebra, once you understood the basics, everything else built on top of it.

But today – today you had decided that you were going to step over the line from tutor and student into the realm of perhaps something more.

You liked Junmyeon. You liked his math puns and the way he scrunched his face when he thought hard about something. His lips would pucker whenever he lifted the sheet of paper to check over your work. Each time you met up with him your heart acted like it was in the middle of a NASCAR race and it was determined to win. You had it bad. This wasn’t the first time you’d had a crush like this, but you had set your mind on making this one different. This time, you wouldn’t hold it inside. You were going to be the brave one, the bold one. The fact that birds were tweeting as you rode your bike onto campus should have been a sign that things would only be downhill from there. Unfortunately, like the optimistic idiot, you took it as a positive instead.

After locking your bike up, you headed straight for the courtyard near the pond. Junmyeon had told you that he often spent his mornings there to finish up homework or to read a book (the fact that he read so much was another factor in your liking of him). In your head, he was all alone, flipping through a novel as he leaned against the trunk of a tree, looking like a prince taking a rest in the shade on a warm summer’s day. The water would be glistening in the background as a lovely, lighthearted melody played softly through the air. He would see you approach and smile that wide, brilliant smile. Your heart would skip as you sat down in the grass next to him and poured out your feelings. The daydream turned into a nightmare the second he came into view.

Junmyeon was not alone nor was he sitting under a tree with a book. He was on one of the benches, splayed out on the wooden beams with his head resting in the lap of a very pretty, more his league type of girl. She laughed as Junmyeon told a story. A delicate hand ran through his soft brown hair. Your heart fell to the ground, forming a crater at your feet.

Shoulders slumped and day ruined, you turned and headed for the student union. If today was going to suck like this, then you were going to sprinkle it with an overly sugary coffee drink. Preferably with extra chocolate drizzle. It helped - a little bit.

Your morning classes went by in a blur. You were certain you took notes, but none of the information sank in. Later you would have to transcribe your quick scribbles to a word document to help you study. You would learn the information then. By lunch, you were starting to peel yourself off the sidewalk of humiliation. Especially when the one person you could always rely on joined you for lunch.

“How did it go?”

You remained silent, continuously munching on the sandwich in your hands as your best friend sat down across from you at the small, two-person table near the middle of the cafeteria.

Baekhyun laughed his signature, SpongeBob-like laugh. “That bad, huh? I told you not to do it.”

“Technically, I didn’t do it,” you corrected. “He already has a girlfriend.”

“Ouch.”

You nodded. How could you not see this before? Did he mention having a girlfriend and you just blocked it out? Junmyeon and you talked casually between math problems, about your friends and fun things you liked to do on the weekends. He’d failed to mention one very important detail.

��Well,” Baekhyun reached over and plucked a potato chip off your plate and plopped it in his mouth, “at least you found out before you said something. I told you he wasn’t worth it.”

“Just because he has a girlfriend doesn’t mean he isn’t worth crushing on.”

“Okay. Whatever you say.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “You’re so much help.”

Ignoring your quip, Baekhyun snatched another chip. You smacked his hand, but all that managed to do was break off a few pieces, the crumbs falling to the table. Smiling proudly, Baekhyun popped the half-chip into his mouth. “So, are you just going to go home and write a letter?”

“Are you just going to go home and write a letter?” you mocked with a scrunched face.

Byun Baekhyun had been your best friend since the two of you had met in the first grade. He’d stolen your popsicle that your mother had packed as a special treat for your first full day of school. When he saw you start to cry, he broke off the piece he’d been sucking on and handed the rest back to you. There was a bit of a disagreement on the level of nice-ness that act achieved since it was your popsicle to begin with, but somehow it caused the two of you to be inseparable ever since. Being your best friend meant that he was privy to the more private parts of your life.

Like the letters.

Starting as young as ten years old, you’d developed a bit of a tradition when it came to your crushes. Emotions were hard to process, but you found them easier to work through if you thought about them and translated them into words. Those words would fly across the paper, transferring the feelings that made you both laugh and cry into the graphite that formed them. Not to mention, the act made you feel like the heroine in a rom-com. Certainly it was something that Meg Ryan or Rachel McAdams would do once they realized how they felt about the male lead.

The first letter you ever wrote was during your final year of ballet class. Dancing had been a part of your life since you were three, but a new passion had been discovered so you’d decided to quit after this last cluster of classes. A terrible decision, really. Because right after your mind was already made up, a new boy had joined the class.

Kim Jongin.

He had just moved into town after his father was promoted to a new position and had to transfer to headquarters. You’d never seen him at the park or the grocery store before. He was completely new. And beautiful.

He was blessed golden skin that glistened, shining brighter the longer he danced. And, oh, the way he danced. It was well beyond what anyone else could do. His movements were fluid, water-like, as if the very beat of the music were pulling and manipulating his limbs to convey what the notes had to say. Each move was a word and when he formed them together, they could make you smile or cry. And when he smiled… oh, his smile was like starlight. The kind of brightness that stayed in the sky even as the city lights flickered on. To this day, you’d never found one that could rival it. He was a dream that every composer coveted. So, what was your young heart to do?

Well, the movies told you to confess. But there was no way you could find the courage to do so, especially since you only saw him in class and you couldn’t confess in front of everyone. The only other option was to write it out; to write it out like Jane Austen pouring her heart out for Tom Lefroy.

 Dear Jongin,

I’m not sure how to start this. Do I compliment you on your dancing? It’s nothing like I’ve seen before. Prima Donnas in the Russian Ballet would be jealous of you! But you probably hear that all the time. And about how handsome you are, even under all that hair. I can’t help but watch when you pull it back for class so you can see yourself in the mirror. Why can’t I look like that? I somehow ended up looking like a frizzy wet cat that just climbed out of the tub.

I guess what I’m trying to avoid saying is that… I like you. A lot. I like your laugh and your wide smile. I like how much you love music and how you interpret the melody with your moves. No one can freestyle like you! My heart does a dance of its own whenever I see you. I hope you don’t have anyone that you like, just so I can stand a chance. Would you ever think of me like that? If not, it’s okay. I just needed to tell you. Someday, you’ll be on stage dancing to an audience of thousands and I’ll be right there in the front row, cheering you on! Until then, I hope you always find happiness in what you love.

Love,

(y/n).

 That sentence about watching him on stage made you cringe in hindsight. Cute for a ten-year-old, but a bit stalkerish. Luckily, though, you never gave it to him. You chickened out every time up until the last class. The idea of him opening it and reading right there in front of you was mortifying. So, then, you decided to mail it. The teacher gave you his address after you told her you wanted to invite him to your birthday party (it should be a little worrisome that a teacher was willing to pass on private information like that… perhaps it was because you were a kid). Three times you went to the mailbox to send the letter out and three times you ran back inside to hide it under your mattress.

That was the beginning of your weird little tradition. Though you never sent the letter to Jongin, you felt better having somewhat confessed your feelings and worked through them without the humiliation of actually… doing it. So, the next time you had a crush so overwhelming that you needed to get the feelings out, you wrote a letter. You even went all the way each time to address the envelope, giving the confession a sense of finality. There was no fear in them ever going out. Baekhyun was the only other one in the world who knew of their existence. At the current moment, eight were hidden in a drawer in your vanity. The way your fingers were itching, a ninth one was on the way.

“I might,” you finally replied.

Baekhyun leaned forward eagerly. “Can I read it when you’re done?”

“No!”

He snapped his fingers as he sat back in his chair. “Darn.”

“Why am I even friends with you?”

“Because I’m charming.”

There was no question in his voice. He one-hundred percent believed it. And… to be honest, he did have his moments. But that was all in the past. “Like a plank of wood.”

Shaking his head, Baekhyun rapped his hands on the table before standing up. “Alright, I’m going to class. Have fun with your pencil and imagination.” For emphasis on his stupid remark, he stole one last chip before walking off.

You finished off your sandwich in a bit of a rage. By the time you were finished, your mouth muscles were aching as if you’d spent several hours at the gym and it was jaw day.

You only had one class left for the afternoon. But it was algebra. How were you supposed to concentrate on functions when your sad attempt at getting into a relationship with your tutor failed so epically? Somehow you managed, though, and you packed up at the end of class with a new sort of determination. As you hopped on your bike and rode home, you thought over what you were going to write. You were so lost in your head that you hadn’t notice the car pulling out of your neighbor’s driveway, nearly hitting you before the driver hit their brakes.

“Shoot!”

You back peddled to break. Your heart thumped in your chest. No life memories flashed before your eyes, but you were sure you almost died. Slowly, you moved forward to get out of the way of the car. 

“I’m sorry!” you yelled over your shoulder.

The driver leaned out the window.

Oh, great.

It was your neighbor. Or, at least, your neighbor’s son. Do Kyungsoo. He stared at you with an expression that could be blank but could also be a glare. It was hard to tell with him. Shaking his head, he pulled back inside the car and drove away.

Fighting off embarrassment for the second time this day - albeit this situation was much lower on the scale and it happened a bit more often than you’d like to admit - you put your bike up in the backyard and headed up to your room. Your mother, a literary history professor, and your father, a doctor at the local hospital, were both at work and wouldn’t be home until well after dinner. You were used to it. Besides, you were an adult and you liked being able to decide to have pizza for dinner and not worry about what other people wanted for toppings. Once you put your order in, you sat down at your vanity and got to work.

 Dear Junmyeon,

Has anyone told you how your hair looks in the sunlight? The dark brown hues seem so warm and inviting, like an ebony chair that was warmed by the unfiltered rays. I’ve always wondered what it would be like to run my finger through it. Would the strands be as soft as they look? Would you wear the same smile on your face that you do during our sessions? But I guess I might not be meant to feel them. Today, I intended to tell you how I felt. I woke up with a determination, a goal to say how much I like you to your face. I was so nervous riding my bike to the university, but it was the good kind of nervous; the kind that makes you keep going. It seemed, however, that I was too late. Or maybe I simply never had a chance at all. I’d missed any signs that said you were already someone else’s.

I hope she knows how lucky she is. I hope she makes you laugh and listens to you when you’re having a bad day. Your laugh is like a symphony. Does she tell you how light and lovely it is? Or how infectious it is? When you laugh, I can’t help but laugh along. It’ll be sad not to hear it anymore. Or have our talks filled with random subject changes. But I think I’ll miss your smile most of all. The way it crinkles your eyes yet still lets them shine. The way it spreads across your face and the way your cheeks grow. It is truly a sight to behold. I hope wherever you go, you are always smiling. You always let your light shine even on the cloudiest of days. That’s what’s so special about you and what made me fall for you. Even when I was frustrated or couldn’t understand, you were patient, taking my mind off of the negative and turning me so I could face the positive. That’s a rare kind of person. You are a rare kind of person. Please always be happy, Kim Junmyeon.

Love,

(y/n)

 With a sigh you sat back in your chair. The letter had done its job. Though you were still sad about the way things turned out, you no longer felt defeated. The words you needed to say were now out there without being “out there”. Okay, so he had a girlfriend. Big deal. It wasn’t the end of the world. There were more potential love interests out there that you could find. He was only one and obviously wasn’t the one.

Beginning to smile again, you folded the letter and put it in an envelope. You didn’t have Junmyeon’s address, so you wrote out the address for the math lab. Opening the top drawer of the vanity, you placed the latest addition to your collection under the first envelope. The doorbell rang right as you closed it up again. Oh, thank goodness. Food.

Practically skipping down the steps, you hurried to the front door.

“Hi-” You stopped as soon as you’d opened it. The person waiting on the other side was not the pizza delivery guy - it was Baekhyun. The boxes holding the pizza and cheese sticks you’d order for no one but yourself were in his hands. Over his shoulder, you barely caught sight of the delivery man driving away. “Really?”

“What? I was bored. And hungry.” He flipped open the lid to show you the hot, melted cheese of the appetizer. “Cheese stick?”

Rolling your eyes, you stepped aside so he could come inside.

Baekhyun had been to your home plenty of times in the past so it was easy for him to make himself at home. He didn’t wait for you before pulling plates out of the cabinet and pouring a drink. He even went as far as getting you glass as well. “Thirsty?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

The two of you ate at the kitchen table as your mother had a “no meals in the living room” policy. Small snacks like nuts and popcorn were okay, as long as you didn’t spill any on the couches.

“So… how did the writing go?” Baekhyun asked cheekily between bites.

You shrugged. “Fine. I’m deciding that I’m getting over it.”

Now it was Baekhyun’s turn to roll his eyes. “You always get over them fast.”

“What’s the point of dwelling on the things you can’t change?”

That was always your answer. Yes, the hurt was immediate and painful, but Baekhyun was right, you tended to push it aside rather quickly. That was the whole point of your letters, anyway. Get the feelings out of the way so you could move on. What was the point of clinging on to something like that? You would only end up worse if you stayed in that spot. So, you pushed yourself to move on. And eight times out of nine, it had worked. There was only that one nagging letter that failed to do its job. That particular set of feelings refused to go away even as you looked to other crushes, as you found other boys to like. It was the one you would always wonder about, the one that was completely off limits. The dull ache still crept up every once in a while. If moving on was what you had to do, you would do it. Because you would prefer if you never had to go through something like that ever again.

[robininthelabyrinth]

Three Gates - on ao3 (for content warnings check Ao3) - on tumblr: pt 1, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5, pt 6, pt 7, pt 8, pt 9

- Chapter 10 -

Everyone did believe that Meng Yao had been robbed in love. It even got to the point that Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen – both somehow taken by surprise by it, he had no idea how, given that it was so obviously the result he was aiming for – spent a great deal of time behind doors trying to make sure Meng Yao didn’t feel bad about it, which was very nice, if unnecessary, of them.

He assured them that he didn’t mind the gossip at all, but, well, if they were offering to spoil him…

More importantly, Wen Ruohan believed it, too, just as he’d hoped, and his belief that Meng Yao belonged to him was shored up to the point of being nigh-unbreakable, just as Meng Yao had intended. His comments on the subject, made in a small break during a Discussion Conference when Nie Mingjue was enduring a lecture from Lan Qiren, were sticky sweet and suffocating and revolting to the point that it tested even Meng Yao’s well-practiced façade.

Interestingly enough, Wen Ruohan didn’t seem to be jealous of the relationship, or even to mind its existence, as Meng Yao would have expected given his now years-long obsession. Unfortunately, he also didn’t stop his usual antics – which probably formed part of the basis for Lan Qiren’s lecture, come to think of it. He seemed to regard it as little more than a childish lark, a passing whim scarcely worth noticing; as if it didn’t matter what Nie Mingjue did because he knew, or thought he knew, how everything would end.

It was, Meng Yao reflected, the sort of thing that would drive a lesser man up the wall with rage.

Wen Ruohan did express a mild curiosity as to how far things between Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen had gone, but luckily was just barely self-aware enough not to ask the supposedly jilted Meng Yao to find out more details for him.

As a result, Meng Yao was able to nod along with his recruitment speech without having to swallow back too much bile.

“You’ve always been very kind to me, Sect Leader Wen,” he said, his voice as sincere as he could make it. “I find that I’m often overlooked, given my status, though of course Sect Leader Nie’s needs must come first…”

“That is not necessarily true,” Wen Ruohan hummed. “You are just as worthy as he, with as many needs; are you not human, too? Why should you be the one overlooked?”

“Qinghe Nie values strength of arms,” Meng Yao demurred. “And mine is – lacking. There can be no comparison.”

“It must be difficult to be somewhere where you don’t fit in,” Wen Ruohan said sympathetically, as if he had any notion of such a thing. “Especially when you know there are places where you would fit in much better, if only you had a chance.”

Meng Yao heaved a sigh. “I have long ago given up hope of – other places,” he said, dropping obvious hints with his body language that the hope was merely dashed, not gone. “One should be content with one’s place.”

“Never be content with anything,” Wen Ruohan told him, his own voice slightly more sincere than usual, and it might be the only honest thing the man had ever said to him. His own personal motto, no doubt. He dropped his hand on Meng Yao’s shoulder. “Perhaps you should make more time for yourself – there are some areas in Qishan where you could go night-hunting to earn some glory, and I think you would find the game there to your liking. Especially, oh, around the end of the month?”

Meng Yao allowed himself a small victorious smile, and let Wen Ruohan think that he had convinced him that he had wanted the recruitment all along – a perfect catch, after years of setting out lures.

“That sounds like an excellent suggestion,” he said, and even meant it. “My skills have grown rusty, staying in the office so much…though I only fear I do not know the way. You know that Sect Leader Nie does not trust me at the border.”

He did, of course, but what would be the point of sending him there? Meng Yao’s skill was in logistics and management; while that was useful in active battle it would be utterly wasted in patrolling their well-armed borders to help pep up morale. But it was easy enough to make it appear to be a slight.

“You are capable of doing anything you put your mind to,” Wen Ruohan said encouragingly. “But you are right in acknowledging limits, and should not fear to turn to – capable guidance, when you find difficulty in finding your own way.”

Meng Yao lowered his eyes, full of triumph – for real, this time. “I am honored that Sect Leader Wen is willing to instruct me.”

Wen Ruohan patted him on the shoulder again, then went off his own way. Meng Yao turned to do the same, and abruptly saw Lan Wangji standing in the distance, looking out a window at the sky; it gave him a start, wondering if the younger man had seen. Hopefully not, or at least he’d hopefully know to keep his mouth shut – Meng Yao would have to go feel him out later.

The work never ended, he thought to himself with a sigh, and returned to Nie Mingjue’s side before his sect leader broke something trying to keep his mouth shut while talking to Lan Xichen’s uncle about righteous conduct, a subject on which the Lan sect seemed to think they had the final say and on which Nie sect principles were wildly and fundamentally different.

(Lan Wangji seemed to act the same as always when Meng Yao talked to him later – which was to say, virtually expressionless except for whatever it was that Lan Xichen claimed he could read in his posture, and still hilariously distractable with news of Wei Wuxian, who he’d met for all of a few months during the lessons in the Cloud Recesses that Nie Huaisang had finally passed – and that was a relief. The less Meng Yao had to think about what he was doing when he wasn’t actively doing it, the better.)

Getting permission – and publicly – to go out night-hunting was easy enough, since Nie Mingjue actively enjoyed slaughtering evil beasts for the good of mankind and thought that everyone else did too; he only needed to casually mention that it had been a while since he’d had time to go out to stretch his legs and Nie Mingjue immediately suggested that he go out on a night-hunt.

Convincing him not to come along with was slightly more difficult, especially when he mentioned that he’d heard some whispers of a demonic presence near the border with Qishan – Wen Ruohan was certainly demonic enough, in Meng Yao’s opinion – but with his position it wasn’t difficult to juggle the paperwork schedule to ensure that there was far, far too much work for Nie Mingjue to accompany him.

Arranging that Lan Xichen come to visit shortly before he left was an extra perk that Meng Yao included for both of them – for himself, getting to spend a wonderful day in the presence of someone infinitely more relaxing than Nie Mingjue, and for Nie Mingjue, getting to spend time on paperwork with someone infinitely more sympathetic than Meng Yao, who truly enjoyed the process of comparing long lists of received goods with each other to see if something was missing.

He’d miss Lan Xichen’s departure due to his night-hunt, but that was good, too – him going off to an atypical night-hunt would be understood by the majority of the cultivation world as a huffy retreat to avoid having to see his former lover and his superior together, and no one would think twice about it.

Once it was all set up, it was only a matter of waiting.

Wen Ruohan was confident in him, Meng Yao knew, and rightfully so: if he’d really been the person he’d been displaying in his presence since childhood, Wen Ruohan’s tricks would have snared him without question. A fool with an endless pit in his heart, greedy for affection and too stupid to be able to realize that no amount of glory would satisfy that greed, cunning but having no heart to see the bigger picture…dumb enough to agree to go meet Wen Ruohan, but smart enough to demand a measure of trust before he did.

A measure of trust – like the guide he’d insisted on.

Like the identify of whoever it was that had been so-cleverly dropping off all those letters, over all those years. Whoever it was had to have a considerable position in the Unclean Realm since the time Lao Nie had been in charge, and corrupted by Wen Ruohan since way back then; someone who had the freedom of the interior parts of the fortress, someone trusted, with good enough martial arts to avoid being spotted even when Meng Yao was specifically looking to identify them.

He’d run some tests and confirmed to his satisfaction that it seemed to be the same person each time, so there was only one high-level spy he needed to be concerned about – there were others, of course, but Meng Yao knew about those, and what he knew he could manage.

Or, well, Nie Zonghui could manage, he supposed. Nie Zonghui was technically the one in charge of managing personnel, or at least he was whenever he wasn’t stuck on some type of body-guarding duty – while they hadn’t shared classes due to the age gap between them, Nie Zonghui being older, Meng Yao knew that they’d had all the same ones, preparing them for much the same role. Between the two of them as advisors, Nie Zonghui was better suited for fighting and advising on situations involving imminent death, and they'd generally divided the work accordingly, but he was more than competent enough at managing spies and Meng Yao had handed the job off to him with great satisfaction. It worked very well.

Well, as long as Nie Zonghui didn’t turn out to be the traitor, anyway.

Meng Yao sincerely hoped he wasn’t. Nie Zonghui’s hobby was learning saber forms, and he spent all his free time on it to the point that he made Nie Mingjue’s training schedule look reasonable – Nie Mingjue was still the more powerful of the two, but only because he had ridiculously high cultivation for someone his age.

(That high cultivation had made his position as sect leader secure and allowed him to earn a name and a title and respect throughout the cultivation world, but Meng Yao wasn’t the only one that worried about how Nie sect cultivators died of qi deviation once they got too powerful. But Nie Mingjue was fairly stable for the moment, despite his rapid advancement, and Lan Xichen had devoted himself to trying to find a way to keep it that way – Meng Yao thought he might allow himself some room to hope.)

It turned out that the traitor wasn’t Nie Zonghui.

It was Wu Bixian, one of the army commanders, which was not quite as bad but only slightly.

Wu Bixian was from a smaller sect very close to Qinghe, a part of the Nie clan by marriage to one of the closer cousins. He was a good warrior, a tolerable commander, and had once had the occasion to save Lao Nie’s life in their youth together – he had been in a position of trust for a long time. He was wealthy, in the way most members of the Nie sect were with the sect’s treasury at their back and night-hunts to their name (Nie Mingjue’s comment as a child that the money ran free and easy once you started night-hunting wasn’t wrong) and he had a good wife, a few children, a saber of his own, moderately strong cultivation that was slowly gaining in strength…He had never shown any interest in acquiring more power than he had, no lust for domination, nothing like that.

He seemed content.

He was one of the ones that made snide comments about Meng Yao’s mother and had initially tried to refuse to take Meng Yao’s orders, even the ones that came straight from Nie Mingjue, until Nie Mingjue had personally told him to cut it out or else accept a demotion in favor of someone who could follow orders, but given how early the letters had started landing on Meng Yao’s desk, his betrayal must have happened far earlier than that incident and could not be the inciting factor.

Meng Yao had no idea what sort of things had Wen Ruohan offered to turn him, but whatever it was, he hoped Wu Bixian had enjoyed it while it lasted because he was going to kill him.

“It is kind of Commander Wu to take time out of his day to assist me,” he murmured, lowering his eyes to hide his rage even as his voice remained sweet and gentle.

“Sect Leader Nie wanted to make sure you were safe,” Wu Bixian said, and for half a second there Meng Yao wondered if it had been some sort of terrible miscommunication because he could see Nie Mingjue doing that, but then Wu Bixian continued, “I thought it would be good for someone like you to have a proper guide to teach you.”

If he had used anything like that language around Nie Mingjue, he wouldn’t have been allowed to come help, and that meant that Wu Bixian was in fact the right contact.

“I will follow in your footsteps,” Meng Yao said, still playing cautious. He saw a smirk steal over the other man’s face, smug and arrogant, and they left without another word between them.

With Commander Wu with him, finding a place to cross the territory line into Qishan without being spotted was easy – and worrisome, of course – and it wasn’t long before they arrived at the forest glade where Wen Ruohan was waiting for them.

His retainers had already set up a place for them to take tea, with him sitting above and them below, and even his traveling chair resembled the throne to which Wen Ruohan believed himself to be entitled.

Before they left the woods, Wu Bixian elbowed Meng Yao in the side, hard. “None of the backtalk you sometimes give Sect Leader Nie,” he instructed. “You ought to count yourself as very lucky that Sect Leader Wen has come himself to meet with you – he puts a high priority on the affairs of Qinghe Nie.”

That meant that Wu Bixian thought himself better than Wen Ruohan’s other spies in other territories, which were probably only good enough to report to a Wen disciple, or maybe Wen Xu if they were especially prominent.

Arrogance was good. Meng Yao could use arrogance.

He knelt in front of Wen Ruohan, giving him the deference he longed for – he’d only ever knelt to Nie Mingjue once, when he’d sworn an oath to him as part of becoming an official disciple of the Nie sect, and it had been outrageously awkward for them both – and Wen Ruohan smiled.

“You made a wise choice,” he said. “Qinghe Nie will not remain standing and independent for much longer. Only those that realize the truth will have a chance to influence the future.”

“Sect Leader Wen’s strength is undeniable,” Meng Yao said, because his mother taught him how to say the words that men wanted to hear. His mother as she used to be, before Sisi came back into her life and made her happy – his mother, who now spent some time being mistress of Qinghe, some time traveling, some time merely visiting other places with Sisi at her side; his mother, who asked him if he was happy with Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen, who accepted his answer and sought to aid him as much as she could; his mother, who loved him, well if not always wisely. “I do not wish to be on a sinking boat when I could join the rising tide.”

There was a bit more of that, mostly mutual ego-stroking and puffery, but finally Wen Ruohan got to the point: “What is it that you want?”

“My rightful inheritance,” Meng Yao said, because it was the safest thing to ask for. He didn’t really care if Wen Ruohan got rid of Jin Guangshan, after all, and Nie Huaisang’s reports hadn’t been especially positive in regards to Jin Zixuan – Wen Ruohan would probably just disinherit him in favor of Meng Yao, and leave him alive to cause Meng Yao too many problems to have time to rebel. And it was much safer than asking for anything else. “The venerable Sect Leader Wen is above such petty matters as gossip, of course, but he undoubtedly already knows…my father…”

“The Jin sect is a pearl of great value,” Wen Ruohan said lazily. “Do you think your service can justify such a reward?”

“I am sure of it,” Meng Yao said, full of confidence.

“And there’s nothing else you want?”

Meng Yao hesitated, having not anticipated that question the way he had others, and Wen Ruohan laughed to see him. “I told you before not to be content,” he said with a smile Meng Yao did not trust. “You have chosen wisely to trust in the power of the sun, and in the heat of its rays, from the ashes of the old ways, too stiff in their rules to change, you will be rewarded with your heart’s desire.”

Meng Yao smiled. “I await your excellency’s benevolence with eagerness, to give me light where I have been blind.”

He bowed and took his leave, heading back to Qinghe with the heads of some fierce corpses to show as the results of his hunt – Wen Ruohan was thoughtful, in some ways – and left Wu Bixian behind to discuss further matters to which Meng Yao was still too new to hear: an excellent people management stratagem to whet Meng Yao’s jealousy of Wu Bixian’s position, while also assuaging any concerns Wu Bixian had regarding his primacy.

The second he was out of sight, he pulled Chiwen out of the qiankun pouch he’d tucked into his sleeve – sabers generally disliked small places like that, but Chiwen had always been extremely understanding of the indignities one had to suffer to achieve greatness – and threw him down, leaping on top of him and hurrying forward at break-neck speed, and even so he only just barely managed to catch Lan Wangji before he disappeared back into the woods.

(He hadn’t realized that Lan Wangji was suspicious at first, despite him having coming willingly to the Unclean Realm alongside Lan Xichen and being even less social than usual; it wasn’t until that very morning, when he’d murmured some denial about having plans for the day – and Lan Wangji always had plans for the day – that Meng Yao had realized that he might need to keep an eye out for a tail.)

Lan Wangji was stiff as a board, his hand already sliding to Bichen on his waist; Meng Yao ignored it.

“You need to go back to the Cloud Recesses,” he said. “As soon as possible.”

Lan Wangji paused. “Why?”

“Because Wen Ruohan is going to burn it down,” Meng Yao said flatly. “The Lan sect doesn’t have the ability to stop him, but if you go now, you can pack away your sect’s most valued treasures and hide them away somewhere safe before they do.”

“Why?” Lan Wangji asked again, still wary, only this time he meant why are you telling me this.

“Because you have to make sure Lan Xichen isn’t there,” Meng Yao said. “He’ll hate it and he’ll fight having to run away with every ounce of will he has, but he can’t be there – or else everything will be so much worse.”

“Sect Leader Wen told you?”

“He all but promised me Lan Xichen as a prize for my cooperation.” Lan Wangji flinched, and Meng Yao nodded grimly. “Make sure he has a safe place to go. The Nie sect will come to your aid, nominally, but the real purpose will be to make it seems as though the Wen sect has defeated two Great Sects in one blow – it will be devastating to the morale of the smaller sects, and convince many of them to just give in to Wen domination rather than fight back...listen, come up with whatever reason you have to in order to convince them, but don't explain where you learned of the information. You understand?”

Lan Wangji nodded slowly. “You plan to spy.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Meng Yao said, because he was far beyond planning at this point. But he knew, as Lan Wangji might not, that the elders of the Lan sect would never listen to Sect Leader Jin's bastard son or Sect Leader Nie's aide, so recently jilted in love - they weren't like Nie Mingjue or Lan Xichen, who would understand. “Listen, empty the Library Pavilion in advance, wait until they’ve started burning the other buildings, and then set fire to it yourself. If you defend it as if it’s full, maybe you can convince the Wen sect that they’ve done more damage than they really have.”

He shook his head – he’d been hoping to have more time, but the winds of war always came more swiftly than hoped. “Good luck, travel fast, and above all tell no one.”

[starlightshoals]

The Weeknd - After Hours [Album Review]

1 - Alone Again: Swimming in a deep red sea of yearning and heartache, this song is the perfect way to kick off the album. It plays like a mood, a feeling; it’s a confirmation that in the time since My Dear Melancholy, whatever hope was found, whatever lessons were learned, they’ve been lost in that ocean of new mistakes. The second half intensifies and darkens and leads the listener down the dark corridor the rest of the album will follow. Favorite Lyric: “Take off my disguise, I’m living someone else’s life, suppressing who I was inside...” 9/10, Excellent

2 - Too Late: So yeah, the production in this album is god-tier, and this track goes hard in that vein. I love the distortion on Abel’s voice in the chorus, the tempo, the vibe. There are so many segments and details that could fly over your head the first time -- this song is fucking layered. The more you listen, the more it slaps. Like every other track on the album, it’s about mistakes made that push the person you love away, but it’s not some whiny self-pity party, it’s a grim acknowledgment of how you feel and how it’s all your fault. Favorite Lyric: “When the darkness comes, you’re my light.” 10/10, Outstanding

3 - Hardest to Love: There’s a fragility to this track that’s rare in Abel’s music, and I admire that so much. It’s about admitting how difficult you’ve been and wondering why the person you love still wants you after all you’ve done. It strikes at that struggle inside where you want them to let you go because it’s best for them, but the reality of that makes you miserable and you don’t want them to forget you. I could say this about almost any track on the album, but I fucking love the 80s-style production here. Such glorious music for the soul. Favorite Lyric: “I can’t believe you want me, after all the heartbreaks, after all I’ve done, no I can’t believe you trust me, after all the rough days, you still call me up...” 9/10, Excellent

4 - Scared to Live: I gotta be honest, this song doesn’t do it for me like it does for most people. I still like it, and I love the lyrics, but stylistically it’s just a little too sappy for my tastes. I feel like this style (minus the fantastic production) is something I could hear a lot of other places, and that’s something I can’t say about most of Abel’s music. The lyrics, though! They send a lovely message of accepting your partner’s choice to leave you, gently telling them it’s okay to go on in life without you. It’s a truly gracious and grown-up thing to express. Favorite Lyric: “And if I held you back, at least I held you close” or maybe “You always miss the chance to fall for someone else, ‘cause your heart only knows me.” 8.5/10, Great

5 - Snowchild: Ooh yeah, here we go. In this song Abel reflects on his journey through the past decade. It’s a lowkey, moody, heart-in-your-throat track. It’s like walking through an empty city late at night, hands in your pockets, with an ache in your chest. It’s like leaving everything you had behind because it doesn’t matter anymore. You just want out. You just want something new. I can relate. Favorite Lyric: “She never need a man, she what a man need, so I keep falling for her daily...” 10/10, Outstanding

6 - Escape from LA: Maintaining the mood from Snowchild, this is a deep dark dive to the mind. It’s about being dead inside. It’s about being in love with someone you still have but will never have, you know what I mean? They’re in your life, but they’re not yours. And you have everything you could possibly ask for, but it’s still not enough. You’ve done everything you could possibly think of, but it doesn’t fill you up. You’re still running empty. It’s cold and it’s lonely and all that’s left is the voice inside, telling you it’s time to go. But you stay because you’re waiting. So you can be there if they come back. Favorite Lyric: “We’ll figure out our shit and find a way; when you say that you need space, I give you space.” 9.5/10, Amazing

7 - Heartless: I thought it was so funny when this song came out last year and everyone took it literally. This song isn’t about being some badass heartless jerk with no feelings, it’s about pretending to be that to cope with how broken you really are inside. It’s about embracing hedonism to hide the pain. The bridge really drives that home, where Abel sings about being lost and depressed and wondering why the fuck the person you’ve hurt and betrayed still cares enough to come back in your life. Despite all the boasting and bragging and the fast pace and tempo, this song is really the most miserable one on the album. Favorite Lyric: “I thought I lost you this time, you just came back in my life; you never gave up on me, I’ll never know what you see...” 9/10, Excellent 

8 - Faith: God, I love this song. There’s something transcendent about it. It takes you to the sky and leaves you standing in a storm. The pace it takes, the production around it, the lightning-quick smooth transitions from piece to piece, it knows exactly what it’s doing and it revels in it. It also has the unenviable task of connecting the tracks before it and after it, and dear lord does it ever. There aren’t many songs these days that truly tell a story, but this one does. Beginning to end, it takes you on a journey. Favorite Lyric: “Well, I feel everything, when I’m coming down is the most I feel alone...” 10/10, Outstanding

9 - Blinding Lights: I love this song to death, too. The synths, the words, the faint touch of hope. It’s uplifting in a way nothing else on the album is -- it’s about driving fast as you can in the middle of the night just to get to the person you love, praying you’ll get there in time. Ever since it came out last year, it’s helped me through a lot. When I’m sad, it helps me up. When I’m happy, it makes me smile. It might be the most perfect pop song Abel’s ever made. Favorite Lyric: “When I’m like this, you’re the one I trust.” 10/10, Outstanding

10 - In Your Eyes: This one knocked me flat. I wasn’t expecting another retro pop banger on the album, but uh, here it is. This one means a lot to me personally. It reflects a lot of feelings I’ve had over the years. There’s an acceptance in it, a sense of letting go and moving on while still being real about what stays, what matters. And it has a sax solo. Yeah. Favorite Lyric: “In your eyes you lie, but I don’t let it define you.” 10/10, Outstanding

11 - Save Your Tears: There’s something so...peaceful about this song. It reminds me of my dad and some of the 80s music he played when I was a kid. It has that nostalgic feel to it, you know? It’s different for Abel and I like it. At first I wasn’t sure what to think of it, but the more I listen the more I like it. Favorite Lyric: “You could’ve asked me why I broke your heart, you could’ve told me that you fell apart, but you walked past me like I wasn’t there, and just pretended like you didn’t care.” 9/10, Excellent

12 - Repeat After Me (Interlude): The vibe, the mood, the feel. This song goes deep and stays there. Like Alone Again, it’s like dipping into dark water and swimming a while, floating on a memory. Looking at old photos you probably should’ve deleted. Reading old messages from someone you should’ve blocked. It hurts, but it heals. Favorite Lyric: “You don’t love him if you’re thinking of me, you’re just fucking, it means nothing to me.” 9.5/10, Amazing

13 - After Hours: This one took us all by surprise, didn’t it? A six-minute track with a beat switch and enough atmosphere to make your jaw hit the floor. When it dropped it tipped everyone off that this album was going to be special. The song itself is so fluid, so smooth, displaying everything Abel’s learned since he began. It’s a masterpiece that perfectly sums up every theme on the album and then some. Favorite Lyric: All of it, but especially the chorus and the bridge. 10/10, Outstanding

14 - Until I Bleed Out: If Snowchild is like walking an empty city at night, this song is like stumbling out an alley as dawn hits the streets, blood running down your side. Bathed in that red light, begging to be let go. It’s the fitting book-end to where this album started, closing the chapter with nowhere left to go. It doesn’t leave with easy answers, it doesn’t tell you everything is fine. But it acknowledges a change. Favorite Lyric: “Well I don’t wanna touch the sky no more, I just wanna feel the ground when I’m coming down...And I don’t even wanna get high no more, I just want it out of my life...” 9/10, Excellent

Final Rating for the Album: 9.5/10, Amazing

[memory-hoarder]

WARNING (LONG POST AHEAD)

I turn off the lights, scrolled my phone and clicked the Spotify app currently listening to (calming acoustic) 10: 05 PM, best time to unleashed all emotions that piled up from nowhere. I covered myself with a huge blanket and placed the laptop on my lap and decided to visit my page. I know, I'm being inactive lately but I'm doing my best to update my journal publicly to remind me of my long absences.

Tonight, I decided to post the questions I received a night before my birthday celebrated. I kept this on my file for a month now. Admittedly, this is the huge decision I made on my birthday. So, I asked a random people on my messenger lists - some are my work colleagues while others are acquaintances. At first, I am hesitant to ask for favor to anyone but I did. Well, I guess it was successful though I received different reactions - some confused and thought I was making fun while others are game on to sent their questions. Obviously, it took days for me to answered cos it turns out that I wasn't prepared myself for few questions that somehow affects me literally.

The twist here is I am not allow to send my answer to their questions. However, I can answer it through this journal. Which I described as bravery.

Here are some of the questions:

How’s Life? How’s Life?

A question that been asked me twice. Well, this year was the great sadness of my life that challenged me mentally, emotionally and drained me physically. Sometimes a mere struggle on financially. I’m doing fine but lots of times I seriously breaking down especially the trauma of what happened 8 months ago. But today, I accepted the fact and slowly healing me and appreciate what really God’s intention and plan for my life.

Are you happy right now?

Not sure how to put it into words but there is no reason not to be happy. Right? If you just appreciate the life you are living right now or even the smallest thing that makes you smile or giggle I guess there is no reason to be sad at all. Although, lots of times I felt happy, sad, angry or lost. But there are still lots of reasons to celebrate or be joyful too. I juts let myself felt all the emotions that life wanted me to experienced to remind me that I indeed exist. There are people who could bring me joy and sadness at the same time but all I know they are all part of my journey.

Have you ever missed me before we lost our communication? Do you consider me as true friend?

Of course, I do. I miss the old you the person who I genuinely treasured during my college days. And, you are one of the reasons why I indeed survived college. I just don’t understand why we both let this friendship died. Was it because we no longer catch up? But, how I hope building friendship again will no longer hard as I imagined. But, please know that you became part of my story. I always count on you whenever I am sad and confused. I feel comfortable sharing my thoughts because I know you will never judge me. Hope to see you again soon. Take care of yourself!

Why there are times you don’t have the mood to talk?

Because, I read my surroundings and I feel comfortable being alone not to isolate but to process my own thoughts with myself which my normal thing growing up and I choose this way - became aloof at times not wanted to talk to anyone or go out. It makes me sad to think only few understand my personality. However, I can't just normalize this because of extrovert people I knew. I don’t have mood to talk and I push away people closed to me because I find a happy place being alone. Its not sad or dark what it gives me is peace of mind that no on can offer.

Would you like to change your past or stay on your present path? Why and why not?

I believed majority will choose the past, we all wanted to change one thing that we regret of doing - apologies, goodbye's, places to travel, opportunities we must have and other important things we slip away that is why I choose the past over my present. One thing I am eager to experience all over again is my mom's precious life, only if I had the power to bring her back. I was just 16 years old when she died, and I think the years of her being a mother to us will never be enough. However, her life is a blessing and all the valuable teachings that she imparted on me and to my siblings will remain on us forever. How I wish for her to at least see as growing up especially my brother that she spoiled a lot, and for us to give back all the things she deserved. I imagined date her on a restaurant, buy her clothes, treat her to the salon or accompany her on the grocery store. I also wanted to visit the past to catch up with my high school friends – Mira and Jeno, I will never forget how they literally brings me deep joy and the reason I am early bird during junior high because of the dare. I just missed the sound of Jeno's sense of humor, I treated her more than a friend rather a sister and it broke me when I received the news that he's gone. I was not there for him nor visit his and mom's grave for years now. I wanted to comfort Mira, but I am too far away and impossible to have my own money for my flight expenses. What I did is to cried and prayed for his soul. All of the good memories flashed back once more yet I realized God might took away two beautiful souls in my life but I am confident they watching over and guiding me through life.

I am or was curious regarding James situation, did it ever cross your mind you regret James being your boyfriend?

In all of the questions I received this one hits me hard to the core. For everyone’s knowledge James and I are in a relationship for over 4 years now. Just like other couples we did fight over little things yet we matured and grow together. One thing I really loved about James Charlie is how kind and pure his heart. He helps people as long as he can even himself are struggling to live. Not to mention his over confidence that I am jealous of. I guess, because of how friendly and inviting his amour. Also, a talented one he knows how to dance, sing and imitate different kinds of sounds, He’s grammar and vocabulary are lit. He can also play guitar very well, draw portrait’s and even writing a poems. He knew, he won my heart through his creative abilities. I was also surprised how he interested over history of aliens, bermuda triangle, mermaids and what I consistently heard of the Pyramid of Giza, life documentaries and other related history of it. I find him sexy whenever he talked about some of it. Our age gap is never an issue on our relationship and I am lucky that he guided me on everything, considered my opinions or thoughts and when I freaked out badly which occasionally happened he handle me perfectly and I appreciated his temperament level during my anxiety attacks or whenever I choose to isolate myself him being shut off. He understood me in my own terms and be myself. Yet relationship will test your loved from one another, there were also things that I don’t like of him doing however James does listened to me. He listens to advises either coming from me or from other people that cared for him. He is a vocal person, that one thing that I fall for him is his sense of humor. I guess talkative and being clingy towards person is his nature especially growing up in a broken family. Consistent communication is a key. I remembered he told me that I was different to all the girls she dated on his past life. That I am out of his league, he doesn’t know that he is of out my league too but when I know him deeply he taught me lessons in life and felt his warm love. Over the course of our relationship he respect the limitless of our love language and he accepted and understood the love without intimacy is a different level of love and respect and from his perspective I wanted everyone to know that James has a huge respect towards me, my beliefs and reasons. How someone could wait for something that he can easily took away something on his past relationship. Our relationship is somehow changed us individually into a better person. Getting older, he became dreamer and goal oriented. I witnessed all his hard work, that he celebrated through silence. He wanted to build home and think of small business that will be our retirement in the future. How many kids we wanted or how many dogs we will going to breed. I guess, some people misunderstood James for so long, how miserable life that no one to talk and curse during your victories or failures? Friends and addiction in alcohol and other stuff are his way of escaped, escape from the reality that lead him to take his own precious life once. I know how difficult life for him way back on his early 20’s that he fought all his battle alone and how he overcome his depression and addiction without someone to lean on. And nowadays, everything makes sense to me that I realize being independent sometimes is not a choice but more on a decision. decision and accepting no one will guide you through your journey so you have to do it alone either it brings you sadness or happiness in a process, not to count living alone and make money all by yourself. I agreed he might do bad decision in life but that doesn’t mean his life has no purpose at all. Instead, God is confident that he will win this battle not for everyone, not for the sake of me or our relationship but for himself. As for our current situation, I know being with him and fight through the end will inspired him a lot. Yes, he currently working on his self and will prove to everyone when the time comes that he will be able to regain his new

life and continue living.

We introverts, tend to think a lot, like really overthink a lot. What do you mostly overthink and how deep? Deep, like does it leads you to think more negatively resulting to depression? (mild depression, maybe).

I overthink some scenarios on my head when it really affects my whole being and when every time I think of it, obviously it trigger my anxiety not depression I guess. I can recall one or two hard situations that happened to me, and I know it wasn’t me trying to act that way. I even punished myself and literally breakdown trying to hurt myself, call me freak or whatever cos now I asked myself too how I even allowed myself to did terrible things, because anxiety creeping on me and telling me to do it. But, mostly I think of is my future and myself – deep that it scared me a lot. I have lot of questions of this world that I keep on searching by myself until now.

Why it took for you to share your problems?

Honestly, when I’m having a serious problem I am not confident to share to anybody except to my family who already knew. It took too long because advises no longer work for me, I listened because it was normal people do – advise and advise. Maybe, it was me who are picky to share my problem with, sometimes people listened but never in heart. Not all people deserve to know your struggle and during your lowest times, I have my own terms of coping so you do.

How do you maintain your petite body? If you had three wishes, what would you wish for?

Wow! I never see this coming. Well, I guess being fit is what I inherited on my father's side. They not so fat unlike on my mother's side. I have no limit on foods I intake in other words not your discipline person to look up to. I do eat carbs, junk foods and sodas is always on my list. I never worried if I am physically fit aside from walking Maxine during days off. I don't know how do I maintain this body I guess I'm never. Being fit actually is my insecurity. However, I do loved my body whatever what happen.

Well, if I had 3 wishes in life - first, to end this pandemic so that everything will back to normal. second, for James to have peace of mind and good health while waiting for the process of his case. And, lastly, for me to be strong, lasting patience and strong faith.

How would you solve your problems?

Problems is always part of lives. But, I believed it is always about the degree of the problem. Whenever, I had problem sometimes I resolved it in time but other times I need more time and space to think what will be the resort of it. And, pray for some guidance.

As independent being, how do you handle depression and anxiety?

Good thing to end all of this questions, I became independent when I graduated from college. I have to commute 131 kilometers back and forth from another city just to apply on my first job and the process is never easy at all. When you sent all of your applications form on each companies but never accepted It brought so much sadness, one point of my life I am eager to seek job because I used it as my coping mechanism to walked away from home which I did now, I walked away to protect my peace of mind especially having anxiety growing up and having this thing is hard as people imagined. You might only see darkness and feel of losing but for me, I guess for a year now I handled myself perfectly I never allow this condition to swallow me whole and affect my way of living. I reminded myself to keep strong and remain optimist and always protect my peace of mind at all cost.

.

I am 24 now strong and happy and leaving Haruki Murakami quote: "And once the storm is over, you won't remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won't even be sure, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm, you won't be the same person who walked in. That's what storms all about"

[kaffeinic]

Caffeinic | Bang Chan

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | Epilogue

Pairing: Reader x Barista!Bang Chan

Genre: Neutral // Fluff // Romance

Warnings: None

Preamble: You’ve been going to the same coffee shop for the past four years. You’ve ordered the same thing almost every single day, and you never, ever skip on that part of your morning. So, when Mrs. Park hired a new barista and the once serene café was suddenly flooded with people every second of the day, you were less than thrilled.

You stared at the scene before you. Junseok was sweaty and tired, panting heavily. Chan was holding a half-brewed cup of coffee, seemingly moving closer to you. Seoyeon was leaning low with a deep v-neck shirt toward Chan, but turned to Junseok with disgust when she saw his ragged state. You sat in your chair, gingerly fiddling with the handle of your mug, not completely sure what to do next.

“Are you alright?” Chan asked Junseok. The messy boy stood up straight and brushed himself off. He walked toward you and smiled.

“Could I speak to you for a moment?” He asked. You looked up at Chan, who seemed just as confused as you, then looked back at Junseok.

“Okay.”

He led you to the exit of the café, holding the door open. You hesitantly walked through as he followed suit. You noticed that his hands were shaky and his gaze seemed to be avoiding yours.

“I got your text,” He said. “and I’m here to tell you that I feel the same.” He looked at you with a shy smile, which was returned with a confused raise of your brow.

“What do you mean?” You asked. He smiled and grabbed your hands.

“You sent me a text about how you feel about me.” He said, smiling. His grin slowly dissipated when he noticed that you weren’t aware of what was happening. “What’s wrong? Why do you look so confused?” He asked.

“Why are you confusing me?” You retorted. “I still haven’t seen my phone since the party.” You explained. Junseok’s eyes widened as he released your hands.

“I-” He fumbled. “I’m so sorry. I got a text from your number saying that you wanted to be more than friends.” He explained. “Which you apparently didn’t send. I feel like such an idiot. Oh my gosh, I just-” He stuttered. “I can’t believe I just told you that. Oh no.” He ran his fingers through his hair and turned away from you.

“It’s okay, it’s not your fault.” You said. You then realized why he was so bent out of shape. “Oh. OH.” You suddenly were reanimated, moving around nervously.

“Do you like me?” Junseok had turned to look at you, his eyes sincere and his mouth turned into a worried frown.

“I-” You began. “I am interested in someone else; I’m sorry.” You said. He looked down, tears brimming his eyes. After a moment, he raised his head, smiling.

“It’s Chan, right?” He asked. “I thought you seemed close during the party.” He was quiet for a bit until you broke the silence.

“Are we still friends?” You asked him, hopeful. Though you may not feel an attraction to him, you had enjoyed his company. He truly was a great guy.

“Of course. I’ll see you at the university.” He said, twiddling his thumbs. He looked at you sheepishly, running a hand through his hair again. “Bye, Y/n.”

You looked at him with concern. “Okay, see you.”

He waved as he walked down the sidewalk. Part of you felt absolutely horrible for hurting him. You looked back and forth between the empty space Junseok once stood and the café’s entrance. You slowly made your way back inside, sitting down quietly.

“Y/n?” Chan said. You looked up at him and smiled. “What was that all about?” He asked. You contemplated telling him the details, but decided against it.

“Junseok got a text from my number.” You said. “I didn’t send it.”

“Your phone is still missing.” Chan said. He stared off in thought. “Someone must be sending texts in your name.” He paused. “How did they get through your passcode?” He asked. You looked at him and blinked.

“I didn’t have one set.” You explained.

“Of all of the irresponsible-” Chan started on a tangent, spinning around in annoyance. “Are you kidding me?” He asked. “Setting up the security is step one!”

After a few more minutes of scolding you as he worked, Chan fell silent. You attempted to take a sip of your coffee, but it had become cold a long while ago. Your expression soured at the room temperature latte, causing Chan’s face to light up as he laughed at your reaction.

“That was gold. Wow. I should just serve you cold lattes.” He paused. “Because I’m cold hearted.” He paused again, waiting for you to laugh. “Get it?”

“Oh, I got it. It just wasn’t very good.” You retorted. He laughed through the pain, getting back to work. You giggled at the interaction before deciding it was a good time for you to leave. You needed to at least attempt to shut down your phone.

After gathering your things and saying your goodbyes, you made your way back to the subway station, wiping a bead of sweat from your forehead. You needed to get to your data provider to turn off the service to your number until you got your phone back.

When you entered the store a clerk immediately tried to talk you into buying a new phone, rather than finding your old one, at which you rolled your eyes and insisted on trying to search for your phone instead. Once that was taken care of, you decided you’d turn in for the day and chill at home. You spent most of the time reading books and watching your favourite television shows. Still, you felt that deep hollowness in your stomach. Why would someone tell Junseok that you had feelings for him?

Sighing for the umpteenth time, you turned off the television, closed your book, and washed up for bed. You tried to get some sleep, but you didn’t really have good results.

After an entire night of tossing and turning in your bed, you showered, styling your hair for the next day. There were dark bags under your eyes and your skin was dull with fatigue. Huffing, you gathered your things and walked out of the front door, locking it behind you. The first few classes at the university weren’t very eventful. You heard your professor drone on about the Korean language and how intricately it can be spun into wondrous stories with hidden meanings. You quite enjoyed that lecture. Comparatively speaking, that is.

You dragged yourself to your last class of the day, running a hand through your now messy hair. You heard someone call your name from behind.

“Y/n, hey.” It was Junseok. He still seemed a bit nervous after your last conversation. Being perfectly honest, you were, too. His hands were stuffed precariously in his pockets as he glanced at you. “It’s good to see you.” He said. You shot him a smile.

“Likewise. Is this your last class?” You asked him. He nodded, but said nothing. “Mine, too.”

After that somewhat clumsy conversation, you two parted ways and took your seats. The last lesson bored you half to death, but you made it through without taking a nap - at least not too long. Oops.

It was now time for you to make your way to the café. You didn’t have nearly as many textbooks on hand today, which helped a bit with the walk you had to take. For the most part, the café was still quiet. You checked your watch, realizing that the majority of the high school students weren’t yet out for the day. With that, you smiled to yourself.

“Hello, beautiful.” You heard Chan greet you as soon as you walked in the door, earning him a shy smile.

“Hi.” You said. He laughed at your demeanor.

“How’re you feeling?” He asked. You shrugged.

“Not bad. Lectures aren’t the greatest thing in the world, but that’s not unusual. What about you?” You said. “Is Seoyeon still stalking you?” Chan openly laughed at your choice of words.

“I haven’t seen her in person today, but through social media, yes. She must not have any responsibility to be able to be online as much as she is.” He muttered. He looked considerably better today than he did yesterday, but you could still find signs of fatigue. “Can I ask you a question?” Chan asked. You perked up and nodded.

“Yeah, of course.” You said. Chan looked down a bit, a sweet smile gracing his face. His dimples puckered his cheeks and it made your heart flutter.

“Can I take you on that date?” He asked. You blinked in confusion. Suddenly, the realization hit you.

“Oh lord. I completely forgot with everything that was going on yesterday! I’m so sorry!” You exclaimed. You thought back to the plans Chan had made with you to go to his favourite coffee house, smiling.

“Yeah, I know. I just thought you had enough on your plate.” He said. “Honestly, I wasn’t up for it, either. Seoyeon is relentless.” He explained. It was then that you thought about just how much she seemed to want him. A twinge of jealously washed over you, and your expression darkened. Chan noticed immediately. “Are you alright?” He asked. You nodded.

“Yeah. I’m just worried.” You said. Chan walked around the back counter and closer to you, placing his hands on your shoulders.

“You don’t need to worry, love. She is the last person I want to be anywhere near.” His hands lightly rubbed up and down your arms. You felt the heat from his fingertips sinking deep into your skin. It felt like fire.

“I know.” You laughed. “I’m dumb. Sorry.” Chan smiled and leaned in, pulling you into a hug. You slowly wrapped your arms around his torso, taking in his scent. Not long after, you heard someone clearing their throat from the back of the café. It was Mrs. Park.

“You two seem well acquainted.” She said, smiling.

The three of you laughed as you pulled away from Chan’s embrace, his hands lingering on yours. You looked away.

“Coffee?” He asked. You looked up at him and nodded.

“Coffee.” You said.

~

Hey, guys! Let me know how you feel about this chapter. As always, I truly appreciate a good reblog, especially with some feedback! Comment, hit that like button, and have an amazing day! I’ll see you guys again soon! 💕

* DISCLAIMER: I do not own any gifs/photos used in this post. I do own the written content. Do NOT repost/edit. *

🏷 @a-toxic-galaxy • @hoshithehamster • @woo-for-woojin • @lovely-little-lesbib

[missdelphinilestrange]

1ST  RULE   —   tag some muses you would like to know better.

@crucioslut @tmvoldemort @lokilaufeysonslytherin @thestrongestmagic

2ND  RULE   —   BOLD the statements that are true for your muse.

current muse. Bellatrix Black - Bellatrix Lestrange

fc.  For this blog there is no face claim

occupation.  Student at Hogwarts, War Lieutenant / Dark Witch, Lieutenant to the Ruler of the Wizardry world, Delphi’s mother

age.  47 years old - Born. 1951 - 1998

Sexuality. Bisexual

APPEARANCE:

i am 5’7 or taller

i wear glasses

i have at least one tattoo - Azkaban tattoo on my neck, and a small rose tattoo on my left shoulder with this saying “i’m as pretty as a rose as long as you can look past the thorns that are my flaws” (not many know about the last tattoo)

i have at least one piercing - both my ears are pierced, along with the top of my left ear

i have blonde hair

i have short hair

my abs are at least somewhat defined - only because I workout a lot

i have or have had braces

PERSONALITY:

i  love  meeting  new  people

people tell me that i’m funny - humor is the only way I can really cope with my childhood trauma, so I’m often told I’m funny

helping  others  with  their  problems  is  a  big  priority  for  me - usually only with my sisters, or very close family. when Sirius broke out of Azkaban, I gave him a bit of my food that way he would have a bit of energy before going on the run, but I told him to tell no one I helped him

i  enjoy  physical  challenges - it’s something that’s always been enjoyable for me, because going to the gym used to be the only way for me to escape my strict and controlling parents

i  enjoy  mental challenges - I’ve always been very intelligent above my years, and I set records in Hogwarts for perfect scores in all classes for my OWLs and NEWTs, so even as an adult, it’s fun to get a challenge

i’m  playfully  rude  with  people  i  know  well - I’ve always been playfully rude or sarcastic to people I know well, because I can’t do that around my strict parents since they always said “sarcasm isn’t ladylike” or “acting like that won’t get you a husband” and my close friends and family know that I’m unruly and they accept me for that, which is why I act different in public than I do around my close friends and family

i  started  saying  something  ironically  &  now  i  can’t  stop  saying  it - I always say “just because I kill people doesn’t mean that you can” to my youngest sister whenever she gets mad at someone. Ever since I watched Toy Story 2, whenever someone asks if I’m calling them a liar, I always say “well, if the boot fits” and then they usually punch me

there  is  something  i  would  change  about  my  personality - I wish I had the ability to stop rolling my eyes at every person I don’t like

ABILITIES:

i can sing well - singing as a child always helped me deal with whatever I was going through, so I started taking singing lessons

i can play an instrument - piano, guitar, flute, and violin

i  can  do  over  30  push–ups  without  stopping - I often did push-up competitions with my friends and cousins as a child, and from that, I’ve gotten quite strong

i’m a fast runner - I used to run away from my problems as a child: quite literally, because when my parents would scream at me I’d start running away, so I learned to have a lot of stamina from a young age and run really fast

i can draw well - I always liked to draw pictures of my little sisters, and I ended up getting really good at it

i have good memory - I have really good memory, but a terrible attention span

i’m good at doing math in my head

i  can  hold  my  breath  underwater  for  over  a  minute - This is because I used to go underwater while swimming and pull people down by their ankles just to scare the shit out of them because it’s funny. I stopped doing that though when I got kicked in the face

i  have  beaten  at  least  2  people  in  arm  wrestling - this is because they’re either weak, or I cheated by kicking their shins which distracted them

i know how to cook at least 3 meals from scratch

i know how to throw a proper punch - I’ve always been very strong, and I learned how to punch by doing boxing with one of my older cousins. many people talked bad about Andromeda after she was removed from the family in the summer before my seventh year at Hogwarts, and since I knew how to punch really well, I ended up sending a lot of kids to the hospital wing that year (probably a few hundred). After Sirius was removed from the family, I got in a lot of fights with my fellow death eaters because they were talking shit about him and it made me mad. Needless to say, people don’t DARE talk bad about anyone in my family anymore.

HOBBIES:

i enjoy playing sports - Quidditch

i’m  on  a  sports  team  at  my  school  or  somewhere  else - During Hogwarts, Slytherin Chaser for Quidditch

i’m  in  an  orchestra  or  choir  at  my  school  or  somewhere  else

i’ve learned a new song in the past week

i work out at least once a week - I started working out as a kid (about 8 years old) because I wanted an excuse to get away from my parents. Then, when I was 10, the reason I worked out was because I was skinny but I didn’t have much muscle. When I was 12, the reason for me working out was because I was insecure about how short and skinny I was, and I wanted to be stronger that way I could beat the shit out of anyone that made fun of me for it.

i go on runs at least once a week - running was the way I got away from my problems as a kid, and I guess it just stuck with me

i  have  drawn  something  in  the  past  month - I drew a picture of my little girl, Delphi, playing with the flowers in the garden

i enjoy writing - writing helps me to get rid of all the stress and anxiety that I always try to hide

i do or have done martial arts

EXPERIENCES:

i have had my first kiss - first year, I kissed Rabastan to see if Rodolphus would get jealous. It backfired and Rabastan ended up in the hospital wing. I guess Rodolphus was jealous.

i have had alcohol - when I was in my first year, a seventh year I was friends with sneaked a bottle of whiskey into the dormitory during one of the house parties. I’m just amazed we didn’t get caught

i  have  scored  the  winning  goal  in  a  sports  game - in my second year during quidditch, right before the other team caught the snitch, I scored ten points, and because of that my team still won even thought the other team had the snitch

i have watched an entire season of a tv show in one sitting

i have been to an overnight event - Slumberparty at a friends house

i have been in a taxi

i  have  been  in  the  hospital  or  er  in  the  past  year - I had to visit someone I beat up that way he wouldn’t press charges. In my defense, before I even hit the guy, he tauntingly said “what are you gonna do, hit me?” so it’s his own fault for being dumb enough to say that

i have beaten a video game in one day

i have been to another country - Germany, France, Italy

i  have  been  to  one  of  my  favorite  band’s  concerts

RELATIONSHIPS:

i am in a relationship - Voldemort and Rodolphus

i have a crush on a celebrity

i have a crush on someone I know

i have been in at least 3 relationships - 100s throughout Hogwarts years

i have never been in a relationship

i  have  asked  someone  out  or admitted  my  feelings  to  them - Admitted feelings for Voldemort

i get crushes easily - especially throughout Hogwarts years

i  have  had  a  crush  on  someone  for  over  a  year - Voldemort

i have been in a relationship for over a year - Rodolphus and Voldemort simultaneously

i have had feelings for a friend - many times, especially during Hogwarts years

MY LIFE:

i have at least one person i consider a best friend - Narcissa

i live close to my school - only during Hogwarts years

my parents are still together - for some unknown reason, but yes

i have / had at least one sibling - two: Andromeda and Narcissa

i live in the United States

there is snow right now where I live

i  have  hung  out  with  a  friend  in  the  past  month - Narcissa

i have a smartphone

i have at least 15 CDs - Mostly classical music, but a few are American muggle music (but no one knows about the muggle songs, and they never will)

i share my room with someone - only during thunderstorms: sometimes thunderstorms are scary due to childhood trauma, so those nights are usually spent cuddled next to Narcissa for comfort and safety

RANDOM STUFF:

i  have break danced

i know a person named Jamie

i have  had  a  teacher  with  a  last  name  that’s  hard  to  pronounce - as a child, the French piano teacher the Black family hired Jakob Fínêtyeá

i have dyed my hair - multiple times. once because Sirius and Lucius teamed up and put brown hair dye in my shampoo, and followed me around for weeks calling me Andromeda. the second time my hair was dyed was recently when Lucius put purple hair dye in my shampoo and followed me around calling me Nympadora Tonks

i’m  listening  to  one  song  on  repeat  right  now - “Teenagers” by My Chemical Romance because I’m emo as hell

i  have  punched  someone  in  the  past  week - Lucius when he put purple hair dye in my shampoo and followed me around calling me Nympadora Tonks. Narcissa then yelled at me because I broke Lucius’s nose

i know someone that has gone to jail - me, and majority of my family / friends

i have broken a bone - (as an adult, running an errand that required to go to Hogwarts) the reason was because someone was talking behind Sirius’s back saying that he’s a disgrace to the Pureblood name, and I got in a fight with that kid. Sirius saw that both of us were bruised and bloody, but I didn’t tell him why, and I never will

i have eaten a waffle today - yes because I have a terrible sweet tooth

i know what I want to do with my life - as a student: teacher, artist, actress, ministry worker: unspeakable or working with magical objects. as an adult: writer, lieutenant death eater, artist, spell maker, singer, musician (not many people know about any of my jobs other than being a lieutenant death eater)

i know at least 2 languages (fluently) - English, German, French, Italian, Gaelic, Russian, Greek, Latin, Spanish (I come from a very culturally knowledgeable family, and intelligence is very important, henceforth why I know so many languages)

Idea From: @tmvoldemort

[postcardsfromperry]

Thoughts on Lover

@taylorswift you killed it. To be perfectly honest, starting with Red it's been a learn to love (I don't do well with change and I lovelovelove them all now!), but with this album I immediately lovered it!

It was really hard to rank the songs on this album because they are all so good! But here's my take.

#18 False God

This is the only song that I had a "meh" reaction to. It's slowly growing on me, but if one song had to be cut, it would be this one.

Favorite lyrics: "I know heaven's a thing / I go there when you touch me, honey / Hell is when I fight with you"

#17 Cruel Summer

I like this song, but I just don't get this song. I like the sound and, I love love love the bridge, but I just don't understand it. (I also thought the lyrics were "he looks so pretty like the devil" instead of "he looks up grinning like a devil")

Favorite lyrics: "I don't wanna keep secrets just to keep you" and "'And I scream, "For whatever it's worth / I love you, ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?"'

#16 You Need to Calm Down

Very fun song and I like it a lot, who would have thought this would be one of the weaker songs on the album? This song is a triple, most of the rest of the songs are completely out of the park home runs! Great message, I think everyone one needs to calm down (ironically especially the left).

Favorite lyrics: "Say it in the street, that's a knock-out / But you say it in a tweet, that's a cop-out" and "Shade never made anyone less gay".

#15 ME!

Fun light song. Every time I hear the song I do the UH hand to the forehead from the music video. The music video was so great and the cat surprise!!! ME! was her first opening single I've immediately loved since Mine. (While I've grown to appreciate WANEGBT, I thought it was a joke when I first heard it when she played it on her live stream party. I thought she'd be like "JK here's the real single". Again, don't do well with change). I didn't mind the hey kids part, and was actually disappointed it was removed from the album version.

Favorite lyrics: "I'm the only one of me / Let me keep you company-e-e-eh / Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh / You're the only one of you / Baby, that's the fun of you"

#14 London Boy

Fun song! Cool learning more about London, makes me want to go back! I thought it was clever.

Favorite lyrics: "He likes my American smile, like a child when our eyes meet / Darling, I fancy you" and "So I guess all the rumors are true / You know I love a London boy / Boy, I fancy you"

#13 Miss Americana

Love the sound of this song. The metaphor is also interesting (easy to relate to on either team. As someone whose team has always been loosing where I live this is very, very relatable). The song can be enjoyed regardless of the political metaphor.

Favorite lyrics: "American stories burning before me / I'm feeling helpless, the damsels are depressed / Boys will be boys then, where are the wise men? / Darling, I'm scared"

#12 It's Nice to Have a Friend

Cute sweet song, I love it! Great classic Taylor Swift story telling song writing. I like the continued theme of snow.

Favorite lyrics: "Church bells ring, carry me home / Rice on the ground looks like snow / Call my bluff, call you "Babe" / Have my back, yeah, every day / Feels like home, stay in bed / The whole weekend"

#11 I Forgot That You Existed

I love this song! It is upbeat and sends a good message. "It isn't love it isn't hate it's just indifference" hits the nail on the head when it comes to truly being over something. I really need to work on the whole "I forgot that you existed" thing as I tend to hold on to grudges and let them consume me. Can't wait for the peaceful and quiet.

Favorite lyrics: "Your name on my lips, tongue-tied / Free rent, living in my mind"

#10 Afterglow

I think I would like this song more if it was earlier on the album. By the time I get here, I'm so overwhelmed with good songs it is difficult to fully appreciate. It is the perfect song to go after ME! though. There are so many good lyrics in this song. The chorus and verses are so relatable.

Favorite lyrics: "I lived like an island, punished you with silence / Went off like sirens, just crying / Why'd I have to break what I love so much? / It's on your face, don't walk away, I need to say" and "I'm the one who burned us down / But it's not what I meant / Sorry that I hurt you / I don't wanna do, I don't wanna do this to you / I don't wanna lose, I don't wanna lose this with you"

#9 The Man

I honestly was expecting not to like this song. I was worried it would be ungrateful and just eye roll. But it was the opposite - the sound and the lyrics! Taylor is in a unique position where being a woman has helped her most of her career (no one would have played a male teenager writing songs like that on country radio). However, she certainly has been held to different standards as a woman. I like how the chorus is relatable to anyone and the verses are uniquely personal to Taylor. Taylor would be THE man.

Favorite lyrics: "I'm so sick of running as fast as I can / Wondering if I'd get there quicker if I was a man / And I'm so sick of them coming at me again / 'Cause if I was a man, then I'd be the man"

#8 Soon You'll Get Better

Wow. This song. I sobbed the first few times I heard it. (I still have to skip over it at work). We had to take a listening break after this one. The story telling and the small details.... Taylor, thank you for sharing such a personal song. I hope your mother gets better soon.

Favorite lyrics: "Holy orange bottles, each night, I pray to you / Desperate people find faith, so now I pray to Jesus too" and "And I hate to make this all about me / But who am I supposed to talk to? / What am I supposed to do / If there's no you?"

#7 Daylight

Such a perfect ending to a perfect album. What a great message. I really need to step into the daylight and let it go. I love this song so much, there are so many hidden gem lyrics in this one. Hard to pick favorites. Love being burning red to golden, great call back, even better lesson.

Favorite lyrics: "I don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you / I don't wanna think of anything else now that I thought of you" and "I wounded the good and I trusted the wicked / Clearing the air, I breathed in the smoke" and "I once believed love would be (Burning red) / But it's golden / Like daylight"

#6 Paper Rings

I love this song so much! Great story telling, perfect details, and a great message. I immediately lovered it and it originally was in my top 3. Since then it's gone down a little I think because my love of slow songs is catching up to me, it is so SO hard to rank these top 6. This song is upbeat and happy. I just want to dance around. Especially that pre-chorus. Makes me want to marry my boyfriend with paper rings!

Favorite lyrics: "Went home and tried to stalk you on the internet / Now I've read all of the books beside your bed" (too cute, funny how things change!) and "I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings / Uh huh, that's right, you're the one I want".

#5 Lover

I simply LOVER this song! This song is everything I love about Taylor Swift. The story telling, the simplified arrangement of the song - I am so glad she went back to her roots on this song. A week or two after the album was released I went out to happy hour with some coworkers and this song was playing and my boyfriend walked in and I melted. Huge bonus that the music video is just perfect.

Favorite lyrics: "Can I go where you go? / Can we always be this close forever and ever?" and "My heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue / All's well that ends well to end up with you"

#4 I Think He Knows

THIS SONG!!!! I LOVE IT!!!! Not a song I would usually expect to love this much but I do. Skipping around with this song in my head. Also, my boyfriend totally knows! I love the throw back to sparks fly and how she's driving.

Side note - When I sing this song I change attitude to cattitude. It's like gorgeous how I sing this song to my cats. I really want to make a parody version song about an animal shelter with cats.

Favorite lyrics: "I am an architect, I'm drawing up the plans / It's like I'm 17, nobody understands / No one understands" and "He got my heartbeat / Skipping down 16th Avenue / Got that, oh, I mean / Wanna see what's under that attitude like / I want you, bless my soul / And I ain't gotta tell him, I think he knows" and "Lyrical smile, indigo eyes, hand on my thigh / We can follow the sparks, I'll drive"

#3 Death By A Thousand Cuts

This song. Taylor proves that she can still write sad songs even when she's happy. Even though I'm happy, I still love sad songs. I cried the first time I heard this song, I don't think I could handle this song if my boyfriend and I ever broke up. There are so many great lyrics and details in this song. The traffic lights lyric is so desperate and tragic. I love this song so much. (This song goes back and forth between #2 and #3).

Favorite lyrics: "And what once was ours is no one's now / I see you everywhere, the only thing we share / Is this small town / You said it was a great love, one for the ages / But if the story's over, why am I still writing pages?" and "I look through the windows of this love / Even though we boarded them up / Chandelier's still flickering here / 'Cause I can't pretend it's okay when it's not" and "Quiet my fears with the touch of your hand / Paper cut stings from our paper-thin plans" and "I take the long way home / I ask the traffic lights if it'll be alright / They say, "I don't know"".

#2 Cornelia Street

This song is both heartbreaking and happy. I love it! The song writing on this is absolute perfection. Not going to lie, this one also made me cry the first time I heard it. The emotion behind this song is so raw and real - "kind of heartbreak time could never mend" just kills me. Continuation of her doubts from the archer and a peak through the years of this relationship. There's a happy ending but at the same time still worry. I need a stripped down version of this song. This song goes back and forth between #2 and #3.

Favorite lyrics: "We were a fresh page on the desk / Filling in the blanks as we go / As if the street lights pointed in an arrow head / Leading us home" and "And I hope I never lose you, hope it never ends / I'd never walk Cornelia Street again / That's the kinda heartbreak time could never mend" and "Years ago, we were just inside / Barefoot in the kitchen / Sacred new beginnings / That became my religion, listen".

#1 The Archer

The emotion behind this song is so raw and real. Taylor is letting us in to her deepest darkest self doubt. I love every single thing about this song. Every lyric just cuts right to the heart. I turn this song up every time so I can hear every detail masterfully woven into the song. The way she pleads "help me hold onto you" kills me. But what I love most about this song is that it ends on a positive note "you could stay" and she's ready to fight for this relationship. This song is my #2 or #3 favorite Taylor Swift song with All Too Well at #1 and I go back and forth on Clean being #2 or #3.

Favorite lyrics: all of them, but especially "I wake in the night / I pace like a ghost / The room is on fire / Invisible smoke / And all of my heroes / Die all alone / Help me hold on to you" and "I've been the archer / I've been the prey / Screaming, "Who could ever leave me darling... / But who could stay?""

Over all. I'd say a 13/10. I cannot wait for Loverfest West. And also, when does album #8 come out? Seriously though Taylor, thank you for these past 13 years. Your music has been there for me throw the end of middle school, high school, college, and now the real world. I cannot wait to see what is next for you.

lovelovelove

A

[blankdblank]

Anaticula Pt 37

Pt 1 - Pt 2 - Pt 3 - Pt 4 - Pt 5 - Pt 6 - Pt 7 - Pt 8 - Pt 9 - Pt 10 - Pt 11 - Pt 12 - Pt 13 - Pt 14 - Pt 15 - Pt 16 - Pt 17 - Pt 18 - Pt 19 - Pt 20 - Pt 21 - Pt 21b - Pt 22 - Pt 23 - Pt 24 - Pt 25 - Pt 26 -  Pt 27 - Pt 28 - Pt 29 - Pt 30 - Pt 31 - Pt 33 - Pt 34 - Pt 35 - Pt 36 -

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2nd wk of December

Match 1 – Ravenclaw – Durm 4

Bolstered up with the news of having dates and dresses to the Ball the full Ravenclaw coasted their way into another victory over the visiting school a bit distracted by something you had no clue of yet.

Match 2 – Beaux 2 – Beaux 3

Fleur in this interschool battled against another house of her own friends got surprisingly heated until the other team managed to steal the win away at the last minute.

.

Coated in snow that was still falling following the map on the next origami owl you had received sending you all off in different directions from the other students. Across from an Auror in the center of a field you eyed the trio of judges who would alternate turns in facing each of you one on one until you all had either been disarmed or disarmed your opponent.

Beaux came first, all being disarmed but battled admirably for the few minutes they could muster up against the expert.

Durm came next and had all been victorious within a few moments sending them flying.

Cedric managed to knock his Auror down while Harry ended up in the snow bank. Lastly with the crowd of Champions looking on you stood across from your Auror who eyed you with wand extended stating, “If you do not have a wand that can count as automatic dismissal.”

You smirked and clapped your hands, covering him with two walls of snow that compacted while your hands met at the wrist and your fingers swayed through the snow morphing into a giant bird. The Auror’s head poked out of the bird’s stomach with arm extended and hand empty after having dropped his wand in your attack. Cheers and stunned laughter came from the on looking students through a picture being captured in the moments until your hands broke apart and the snow coating him released and he fell into the pile of snow under him.

Strolling back to the others you looked to the judges who cleared you to return to the school saying the task was handled and scores would be posted later. A base of five for if you managed to disarm the Auror, if not you were limited to five on skill of possible spells used to keep from a blank score.

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4th test – Duel

Viktor – 9, Sebastian – 8, Lukas - 10

Fleur – 5, Charlotte – 4, Vivi - 4

Cedric – 9, Jaqi -  10, Harry – 4

On the way to Hogsmeade the test had been the talk of the school, especially that of the other Headmasters on how you had managed a wandless and silent enchantment that powerful in a moment’s notice leaving them circling on how to inch their Champions ahead while you held the clear lead. But all of them saw hope in the next task that could only help in boosting their scores even more.

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3rd week

Noon in your usual school wide free period you all found yourselves in the Western greenhouse filled with the flocks of six winged hummingbirds who were feasting on the upside down dangling bright colored flowers ten feet above you. Professor Sprout stood brimming with glee in her standing next to a gramophone. “Now, for all of you wondering why you are here I would like clarify. It is for this upcoming festivities we would like to put our best foot forward, quite literally, and to ensure that all the houses are conducting lessons in the opening waltz for the Yule Ball.”

Summers off to the side asked, “We have to learn a waltz?”

Snickers were heard and her eyes narrowed for a moment and she said, “I will have you know it is a rare skill to be well versed in ballroom dancing. And I would not be shocked if a few of you are already interested in the lessons to impress your dates, especially the Champions present.”

Your eyes and Cedric’s eyes went to her both asking, “What?”

Her grin doubled, “The Champions open the Ball with a waltz.”

Cedric looked to you then asked, “How many lessons are you giving?”

“Just the one a day for a week.”

He looked to you again, “I might need more than that. I still trip on the stairs and we’ve been taking them for years.”

Professor Sprout looked to you asking, “Will you be needing extra lessons as well?”

You shook your head, “No, Black family tradition, we have to learn ballroom dances, four instruments, three language minimum-.” glancing at the other students looking back at you in shock for the requirements a deep sigh left you and you shrugged. “Dad said he wouldn’t stick to the tradition but I was supposed to be dead and until he got his job we had a lot of free time. Even took me to ballet, skating and gymnastics, just sort of happened to keep us distracted.”

Astoria mumbled, “I thought we were the only family like that.”

You smirked at her, “Sacred 28.” Earning a smirk from her in return.

Sprout looked to the twins asking, “Have you studied as well?”

They both nodded and smirked, “Triplets.”

Making her grin, “Then you three and Astoria, front and center, and,” looking over the others while you formed a line around her she named four others to come up and be your partners for the first lesson. Your lessons went well enough though on your way to lunch there was an agreement that any in the dorm needing help could always ask when you were free with Cedric no doubt requesting nightly refreshers from now till the ball.

.

Sebastian grinned by the spare space he was holding for you and asked when you took your seat, “You look happy, did you send your cat after Skeeter again?”

You giggled saying, “No. Just, dance lessons.”

His brow inched up, “For the Ball? Do you require extra lessons?”

You shook your head, “No. Family tradition, have to learn growing up, but they’ve offered lessons for each of the houses.” You giggled again, “Which we were wondering how the other house lessons went.”

A grin eased across his lips and once again since your last study session you caught Viktor glaring at your arm making you subtly inspect it thinking you had gotten something on it or torn your favorite maroon sweater. Wetting your lips you looked at Sebastian, who had just sent a glare in return to his brother’s at noticing it then grinned at you, “Are you two fighting?”

He shook his head, “No.”

“So, he’s mad at me then?”

Sebastian forced a quick grin onto his face then answered, “The symbol on your ring.”

Looking at Morfin’s ring you shifted your hand then looked to him again, “For the Deathly Hallows?”

His brow inched up and he repeated, “Deathly Hallows?”

You nodded, “It um, my ancestors, the Peverell Brothers, there’s a whole story on them.”

At his hand signal Viktor moved to your table and listened intently to the tale then tapped his finger on the back of your finger holding the ring, “That is Grindlewald’s symbol.”

“Oh, well he did search for them, the Hallows and failed, but it really isn’t his symbol. It’s centuries older than him.”

Viktor, “But he used it! And he killed thousands of our people! Including our Grandfather!”

At your dropping expression his rage dimmed and you replied softly, “I know what he did. I wasn’t aware of how he affected you, past his having attended Durmstrang.” Wetting your lips you paused then added, “I only wear it, it’s from my grandfather on my Mum’s side.” His head tilted slightly and you clarified, “My Mum left a protection charm on it for me.”

Their lips parted and Sebastian said, “If it is protection from your mother then do not trouble yourself with this.”

Viktor nodded after a deep sigh, “Your mother wore this symbol?”

You shook your head, “No, not that I know of, but the ring is passed down by bloodline. Anyone else would be burned wearing it.”

Viktor, “Very important aid to the protection. These Peverells, they do not sound like they followed his beliefs.”

Sebastian nodded and wrapped his hand around yours, “Do not trouble yourself, wear the ring.”

Viktor said, “I was not aware of the older tale. It is understandable why he would choose that symbol. Please accept my apology for my irritation, it was unjust due to your reasoning. Hermione merely mentioned you simply put it on one day.”

“Ya, I don’t really talk about Mum much.” Both brothers gave you knowing nods about losing their father. You looked to Hermione in her late entrance after Ginny had stopped her to share experiences on the dance lessons leaving them both reigning in their giggles on what the other had missed bringing them to your left to share the stories spreading the laughter.

Leaving the table for your free period however you and Sebastian strolled out to the clearing you had mentioned the day prior for a sighting of a band of Augreys finding nesting materials he had stashed a bundle of blankets to snuggle in the snow couch he was going to make for you both. Upon which he shared more about what he had hoped to do for the brief gap between graduation and the start of the Quidditch season, all of which he hoped to share with his sister followed by a mentioned thought of a visit together possibly if it could be worked out.

.

Hermione’s brows furrowed harshly in reading the article from Rita that insinuated that she was leaving Viktor for Harry. Strolling into the Great Hall comes over to Ron’s side, “Package for you Weasley.”

Ron grinned at him briefly then turned accepting the brown paper box, glancing back at Nigel he shook his head softly saying, “Not now Nigel.” Harry and Hermione looked at him while Nigel huffed and turned away to go sit by his brother, “I promised him I’d get him your autograph Harry.”

Harry chuckled and reached into his bag for a blank sheet of paper he hastily scribbled his name across that he folded into an airplane that soared over to Nigel earning a gleeful gasp from the young teen who pulled out his camera to snap a picture of Harry’s quick grin in a glance at him.

Pulling out an obscurely tomato vomit colored coat Ron stood, “Bloody…Mum sent me a dress.. Got to be a mistake…” Ron walks over to Ginny, “Mum sent this for you.”

Ginny, “I’m not wearing that! It’s ghastly!”

Ron looks at Hermione who is laughing, “What are you on about?”

Hermione, “They’re not for Ginny. They’re for you. They’re dress robes.”

Ron, “For what?”

On your way to share a note you found on one of the old Tournaments you stopped mid walk reaching out, “What the-?” Looking the robes over with curiously furrowed brows.

Ron, “I can’t wear these. Can you do something with these?”

You catch his eyes, “We’ve got spares at home. I’ll grab you a pair.”

In a relieved sigh his eyes rolled and you shook your head in another glance at the robe.

…

Fully decorated from the usual massive Christmas trees, wreaths and garlands between batches of mistletoe, that all couples stole a moment under in forced accidental passes, drew out the spirit of the holiday for all. All first and second years had left for the break along with a vast majority of third years, except for those lingering as relatives or dates for the elder students attending the Ball. In a flurry Christmas Eve arrived and as promised you would be sneaking home right after to spend the rest of the night with your father and uncles after having spent so long apart.

Straight through the dorm door you strolled making Ron jolt up out of his bed after having been waiting so impatiently for his robes from you. A twisted grin splitting on his face and he eyed the deep maroon robes making his mouth fall open, “It was either this or powder blue, all the others had magic pockets full of ribbons and confetti, thought this would be safer for you.”

He shook his head and chuckled accepting the hanger from you eying your pajama bottoms under your big baggy sweater all the way to your moose slippers, “No, no. It’s marvelous compared to that other one. Just about the right size.”

“Might be a bit long in the leg but Neville knows the tailor charms I used on his if you need them.”

Ron chuckled and wrapped you in a tight hug, “I’ll give it a try now.”

You raised a brow, “It’s barely lunch time, we have till 7.”

He nodded, “I know, just anxious.”

You nodded and said, “Go on then, might as well get the hem done now.” You sat on his bed and he hurried into the bath to change while your eyes closed and you smoothed your fingers around the patch of scars over your left eyebrow remembering the mystery blondes kissing you there at the end of another stranger filled dream. The opening of the door opened your eyes with it bringing not only Ron in his maroon robes but also Neville into your view looking at you with a concerned hint of a smile that eased when Ron asked, “You alright?”

You nodded, “You ever have one of those dreams where you get covered in honey or something and you can still feel it?”

Ron chuckled and nodded, “Every time they serve that yam porridge, same dream of getting a pie in my face. Takes hours to have the feeling go away.”

On your feet you neared him and drew your wand from the sheath you kept tucked in the end of your crooked braid to feign being unarmed hoping it might lull Igor into doing something stupid and revealing his big plan. A few gentle tugs and stretches of the fabric on the jacket left it fitting him perfectly before he removed it and you started on his shirt, vest and pants that left him beaming when you were through. Another tight hug later and you moved to accept one from Neville who said, “I know you’ll get plenty of offers, though Sirius did ask for a picture of us dancing.”

You nodded, “Yes, Draco too and Percy should be here, he was told as well.”

Neville, “Plan still the same, after the Ball we’re headed home for the night?”

“If you’d like, full Christmas. The Grangers and your parents and Nellie will be there too same as the Malfoys, even the Pears.”

Ron, “Really? How’d they get invited?”

You sighed, “Well it was either I invite them to Christmas or they continue trying to force themselves as chaperones.”

Neville, “No doubt they’d make you perform again.”

“Exactly. I’m a spectacle enough this year as it is.”

Ron chuckled, “Doubt McGonagall would ever let them past the pitch knowing how they are around you. Still, we all allowed too?”

“Are you allowed,” you scoffed back, “You don’t come your Mum will come drag you there by your ankles, she’s no doubt emptied the pantry on this one.” Making them both chuckle as you turned to go.

.

Along with the other girls you were off in your room back home where you all helped one another fix up your hair and makeup before wiggling into your dresses and shoes. Mostly pulled back in a bun with a sleekly curled section dangling from under the jeweled pins securing it all. Easing your side swept bangs behind your ear your eyes locked on your reflection as you raised your brush to add some eye shadow above your eyeliner giving the look a hint of shimmer to make your eyes a bit more adorned to fit the whole look. With a sigh you set the brush down and rested your chin in your palm next to Hermione in the same position after finally relenting her hair was the best she could manage in a style close to yours. “Straight O’s in all my OWLS and I’m absolutely useless in this.”

Hermione sighed, “I suppose it’s just something needed to be practiced on?” She shrugged, “I mean, how often will we be attending Balls?”

You shrugged, “Well it’s not a Celebration of Life in Versailles, actual dancing and celebrating.”

Hermione couldn’t help but giggle as you did, both drooping your heads until you stood at the alarm sounding for you to stand and help the other with final adjustments before Ginny hurried in with her dress on and two wraps she found in your closet, pink or white?”

Hermione grinned moving closer to look between the pair while you brought Ginny the lip gloss she had been eyeing earlier making her grin and twirl in place and accept help into the pink wrap going with her pink and green dress. In her trot to the mirror to apply it Luna came out with Angelina, both having gotten a bit carried away earlier and had to remove a fair bit of glitter from their dresses with Katie behind them. Luna in a sleeveless teal and the others in complimenting magenta gowns that started the trip down to the waiting guys anxiously waiting downstairs. Cho had already gone down to meet Cedric and inhaling deeply you accepted Ginny’s hand following her for the trip down after she said, “You both look magnificent come on. Anyone not staring at you both tonight are blind dolts.” Reaching out your hand linked with Hermione’s who giggled and hurried along after you, eager like you were to just get the start of the night over when everyone would be staring and commenting before you could vanish into the crowds.

.

Beaming at Harry when she came down the steps Ginny tucked her hand under his arm he offered her shifting his forest green robes, joining the twins Katie and Angelina in the group that turned to glance at the Krum brothers. Both clad in matching red jackets under brown fur capes draped over one arm dangling over their black pants and tall boots accented with red stripes, eagerly swallowing and fidgeting their fingers along the strap across their chests that they released instantly when you both came into view. The pair of you inhaled and couldn’t help but grin at the wide eyed star struck pair oblivious to the picture Draco snapped of them. Sending the image up to his room after having done the same with the picture of your entrance on the steps beginning with a pair of timid heads popping out into the stroll down the first few steps.

Hastily from under their capes they both pulled out matching bracelets, on a strand of pearls secured on ribbons matching your dresses sat a cloth rose from the same material they both secured around the hands you offered them they then eased around their elbows in a turn. Arm in arm you and your dates in their joint stammered compliments to you after your soft thanks for the gifted bracelets on the walk to join the other Champions.

Straight through the winter wonderland decorated Great Hall in the aisle formed by split groups of students the nine Champions too their places, though it took a moment for some to remember that two were actually dating leaving the couples at an even eight. Hands raised and in an alternating lift filled waltz the Ball was opened through walls of flashes capturing the motions of the couples in your own circles around the others while the first rotation ran through and clearly ended with Dumbledore leading Minerva out onto the floor.

One opening dance bled into a series of classic dances, each one bringing on more hushed conversations between the couples until you all broke to claim your seats for the feast. Champions all at one table alongside your dates with other tables packed with the other students all enjoying the hearty meals with goulash and stew offered filled with sugary treats to follow before the dance floor was opened again. A raucous greeting welcomed former students of Hogwarts turned rock stars the Weird Sisters came out dressed for the part and set off the second stretch of the Ball when the Professors stepped back allowing the teens to enjoy the collection of their hits performed live. Hours you all enjoyed the night until in a shared string of signals you all gathered to head to your enchanted doorway while the Krum brothers used another of your secret tunnels to sneak out and visit their mother and baby sister in Hogsmeade.

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Decorated to the fullest your home welcomed you fully in an equally as wondrous effort to capture the usual fanfare for the holiday. Great grandparents included all greeted your group with hugs and smiles before you all moved to the tree in the sitting room. Every gift was opened and another round of food was served, after the clearing of that you joined your father into the crystal decorated ballroom.

Under the light of the moon and stars you both chuckled and giggled through the dances he led you through, the pair of you caught a soft glimmer across your skin and in your hair. Reminders of your ancestor who claimed him and his kin held stardust in your veins, a trait binding all Black Family members, always being able to sense how close you are to one another for the closest of your relations which could be solidified by a tattoo with the relative’s name and celestial body or symbol representing their name.

Yours being Pluto on the base of your father’s neck surrounded by your name, for you the choice of our own for him would be the Big Dog constellation he was named after, a dog that would run when you grew closer in search of him. As soon as you turned 17 as a sort of coming of age marker your uncle had secured plans for a tattoo artist to drop by and do the tattoos as well as those for securing the twins’ decisions for Phoenix as their Animagus you would also get. The date was settled and eagerly looked forward to by all of you, except for the Pears, who really hoped to have you keep your skin unmarked, as it seemed to make it easier for them to mistake you for their lost daughter. But eventually they calmed seeing the sketches of the tattoos you had chosen that weren’t that obnoxious in size and easily concealed by clothes.

Safe in your father’s side to the film playing on the screen your eyes closed and you had fallen asleep in the pile of teens across the lounging couches in your theater only to stir and groggily head back to the castle after parting hugs in time to wash up, change and head down for breakfast. A crashing hug greeted you from Sebastian, who kissed your cheek sweetly in the hall on the way to eating, “Morning, and thank you.” You giggled at his arm circling you brushing the sleeve of his plum sweater up against your now slightly askew grey sweater hanging over your thighs in his hold on you. “Cleo and mother were excited we could sneak out. I have a present for you.”

You giggled again, “Good, I’ve got one for you too.” His brow inched up and you grinned up at him, “Trust me, you have never gotten a gift like this before.”

“Ooh, any hints or am I left to guessing?”

“Guess away but you won’t get it.” Making him chuckle again.

All through breakfast he did guess and along with Fleur and her sister Gabrielle you brought your visiting friends for a gathering of your own in your dorm. The Beauxs quickly passed of their gift of dresses and cardigans to you accepting their blankets and Manticore plushies they had mentioned wanting before you had made for them, then both hurried off at the meeting Madam Maxime had called for her Champions.

There Viktor and Hermione swapped books along with a ring topped with a purple violet made of gems she promptly tugged him away for a few moments alone to react in private they both returned back blushing from.

Sebastian passed you a book from his sister and a collection of books and an earring for the piercings in the top of your ears, in yellow rose earrings with flat backs he gladly accepted your tight hug and kiss for. Eagerly he eyed the rectangular box you passed him topped with a bow, with a smirk he set it on his lap and he eased the end of the ribbon out only for the rest of it to unravel and the lid to fold itself back. At the miniature pitch revealing itself his lips parted and you scooted closer showing him the cards you had, both for the professional teams and the school teams.

Leaning in Viktor joined him in choosing two teams and watched as the figures for players popped up out of the pitch with personalized brooms in hand around the chest that popped up with tiny balls inside that the referee kicked open. When the first match the brothers had played was through giggles exploded from you at Sebastian’s over eager tackle hug he unleashed on you before he burst into a slew of questions on where you got it. The group had split up and while you led him to your room to fetch a picture of Tulip for him to give to Cleo at her clear interest in snakes Sebastian said, “Surely it must have cost a fortune for such a detailed model.”

You shook your head in a giggle answering, “Surprisingly affordable to make.”

His lips parted, “You made that?”

You nodded, “Yup. All our teams have one. Takes a while to get it all to work together but we found the right blend of charms and of course it took a while to get permission from the card manufacturers for us to copy their stats and pictures.”

Facing you fully he said, “You actually wrote the manufacturers? How much are they charging you?”

You shook your head, “They said the cards are public domain, as long as we aren’t actually copying their cards, we got it so the pitches can just use their cards, we only make the ones for the school teams. Ours for your teams are pretty blank, we only have what we’ve seen so far at our school.”

“Are you selling these?”

“We plan to.” A grin spread across his face drawing out his dimples as you sheepishly turned away in an awkward grin to return to looking for the picture at your hair turning mint green. “We actually have a contract that when we graduate a relative with a shop on Diagon Alley is going to sell us the shop, so we’ve been stockpiling and getting our goods together. A few of our candies and treats are still needing some perfecting but we’ve got time.”

“Not to mention your Lycan products.”

You nodded, “Yes.” Grinning wider at his arms circling your middle when he closed the distance between you to kiss your cheek.

“I cannot wait to see your shop. No interest in Quidditch professionally for you?”

You shrugged, “I haven’t had any offers. Oliver has though, Kenmare Kestrals, he seems eager about it.”

“No doubt with talent like yours at this school a great number of teams will be approaching you three.”

Peering up at him he kissed the tip of your nose and you smirked at him, “And how would you handle that, us having to face off?”

He kissed your nose again, “We would beat you,” you rolled your eyes and giggled at his tighter hug he lifted you in, “Again and again.”

“Keep telling yourself that Seb.” Chuckling again he shifted you in his arms and planted his lips on yours.

Pt 38

[activemastery-blog]

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[lathalea]

I posted 3629 times in 2021

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I added 7632 tags in 2021

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My Top Posts in 2021

#5

It's spring, and it's a Thorin Thursday, so I thought we deserve some floral crowns and majestic vibes :) Happy Thorin Thursday! 💙💙💙 Tagging @fizzyxcustard @gwen-ever @sherala007 @anjhope1 @tacosockos @thewarriorandtheking and everyone else who's celebrating this day! Also, If you know the name of the artist, please let me know, I'd love to credit them.

231 notes • Posted 2021-05-06 13:06:24 GMT

#4

All Is Fair in Love and Trade –  Part 9/10

Relationships: Thorin x Reader Rating: E Warnings: despair, anger, angst, smut, long chapter again, Mahal help me

You can read the other parts here: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 ...

For @gwen-ever 💙 Thank you for your help, support, inspo and everything else, this story wouldn't be the same without you 💙

💙 The amazing @jentaculargums created something special - a sketch of Ragna (and Thorin) at the feast. Thank you so much! 💙 If you haven't seen it yet, check it out, do you recognize the gown?

💙 Special thanks to @joyfullynervouscreator for coining in the phrase "Dain's apple" (I'm not sure the dwarves know who Adam is). If you have a moment, check out her fics, they are a great read with a ton of masterful Tolkienesque worldbuilding. 💙 Last but not least, extra special thanks to the wonderfully cheeky @guardianofrivendell who bravely cheered on me every week. Thank you so much! 💙 (P.S. I learned my lesson, I know, I can't count chapters! 🤣🤣🤣) Please check out Guardian's masterlist if you feel like reading more fics from Middle Earth (especially if you like handsome dwarves from the line of Durin like we do).

Here I want to thank you all for following this story since day one, commenting, liking and reblogging it, writing all those lovely messages of support and being super patient with me. It has been a wonderful adventure and your feedback means a lot to me. I'm sending you a big virtual (and socially distanced) hug! 💙 Thank you again for participating with my little poll - I hope this chapter (along with the previous one) is what you wished for when you voted. I really enjoyed being able to incorporate your wishes into the fic! :) And now, I give you the final* chapter of Thorin and Ragna's story (aka idiots in love). Enjoy! 💙 * - I'm really sorry, but there will be an epilogue, too. Bear with me ;)

Khuzdul phrases/names: Zunshanushê - my tiny songbird Melhekhel - King of (all) kings Kaminzabdûna - Yavanna Kheled-zâram - (Mirrormere) the lake in the valley of Azanulbizar visited by Durin himself

* * * All Is Fair in Love and Trade, part 9/10

Thorin Oakenshield broke your heart. Scratch that. You let him break it. But this is where you draw the line. You have enough of the memories that constantly haunt you by day, enough of the vivid dreams that descend upon you by night. And enough of the overbearing King who thinks that he is so entitled that he can tell you what you are allowed and not allowed to do, and with whom. Enough. This is where it ends.

Not wanting to waste time, you quickly leave the Main Hall of Erebor behind you, along with all the guests and their astonished glances. A three-pronged corridor stretches out in front of you and to the sides, its meticulously carved green marble floors glistening in the warm light of the lamps that illuminate them, yet another example of dwarven ingenuity. But now, you have no time to admire the skill of Ereborean master builders and engineers. You have to find that self-important King Under the Mountain.

“Thorin!” you exclaim, but only echo responds. There is no trace of him anywhere.

Is there…? You notice a movement in the corner of your eye and turn to the right. Something dark disappears around the corner. Without thinking, you follow it as fast as you can, ignoring the pressure you feel in your temples. You will worry about your headache later. You turn to the right, to the right again, and then to the left - and there he is, his black cloak flowing after him as he storms ahead, his heavy steps echoing against the stone of his Mountain.

“You! Don’t you dare to walk away like this!” you shout after him, but he continues to put distance between you, not even slowing down. “Do you hear me?!”

It takes the King a few strides to reach the top of a small staircase. Quickly you follow him, your eyes rest on his broad back, observing his every move, exactly like his eyes did when you were dancing with Captain Dwalin.

“We are done, Lady Ragna. Leave. Now.” his words are like daggers aimed straight at your heart.

“Not before you answer me! Why did you invite me here? To torment me more?” “You are asking why I invited you?! Do you not know?!” he snarls. Pompous goat.

“I was forced to come here! Was what happened in the Iron Hills not enough? And now you think you can dictate my every move?! You have no right, you cold-hearted selfish bastard!” you lash out, your gaze boring into the back of his head, your voice trembling.

He suddenly stops in his tracks, and you can see how his shoulders stiffen under the fur lining of his cloak. But then you realize that your words were not the reason why he stopped walking.

Ahead of the infuriating dwarf there is a large, impressively carved stone column encrusted with gold, along with the legendary seat of the Kings of Erebor. You are in the throne room, and behind you there is the suspended green marble walkway leading up to the throne you are facing. Thorin Oakenshield’s throne.

He is standing in front of it, and you see how he fists his hands and raises his gaze above the throne. A jewel of unsurpassable beauty glitters there, surrounded by golden ornaments that emphasize its otherworldly glow. You are looking at the Arkenstone. The King’s jewel.

The King Under the Mountain lowers his gaze, the pale cool light of the Arkenstone dancing along the sharp lines of his crown. The dwarf who once held you in his arms every night now doesn’t even wish to look at you. Instead, he rests his hands firmly on the sides of the throne, his wide back slightly arched. From where you are standing, you can see how white his knuckles are.

“Leave! Get out of my Mountain!” he growls in a low voice as if he were a feral animal.

You swallow hard, feeling a lump growing in your throat.

Blinking away the tears that start pooling in your eyes, you say, “So first you make me come to Erebor and now you want me to get out of your sight?!”

“You heard me well enough!” he roars. “You were kind enough to inform Dwalin that I could die with a frown on my face! That settles the matter! I want you gone from this place! ” Your heart skips a beat and once again you curse yourself for your emotional outburst. Damn. So these words reached his ears. Was that all he heard? You press your hand to your aching temple. “I said that because you were acting like a spoiled child! I dared to dance with someone else at the feast you invited me to, your majesty,” you make sure to say his title with disdain in your voice, “And it was all you needed to throw a tantrum! As if I were your property!” He slams one of his fists against the armrest of his throne.

“You. Are. Not!” his growl is louder, even more ferocious than before. “I’m glad that you have finally noticed!” you try to keep your voice inder control, brushing a stray tear away from your face with a shaking hand. “So now you want me gone, and then what? Will you change your mind again and send your sister to speak with me in your name once more? Or are you going to blackmail me and the whole Iron Hills again, your majesty? Or...”

Thorin the Warrior cuts in loudly, “Cease this nonsense at once, Ragna!” Your whole body stiffens when his booming voice reaches your ears, reverberating against the walls of the chamber.

When the echo of his words disappears in the bottomless chasm beneath you, silence takes reign over the throne room. The King’s shoulders droop slightly and he lets out a sigh. Thorin Oakenshield’s hand moves to cover his face and remains there for a few heartbeats. Now he looks more like a dolorous statue of a legendary hero than a living and breathing dwarf.

A few moments pass, and then he straightens up and says wearily, “What on Durin’s beard are you talking about?”

“Shall I repeat myself, your majesty?” you reply, trying to control your voice.

Placing his hands behind him, the King starts pacing back and forth in front of the throne, not gracing you even with the smallest of glances. He continues speaking in a surprisingly level voice, as if he was discussing an issue at a council meeting.

“Do I take it that you did not wish to come to the feast?” he asks flatly.

”I was made to understand that my presence was mandatory,” you explain, taking in a deep breath to ease your headache.

“It was just an invitation, not a military order!” the King shakes his head.

You snort. He has to be joking! Does he think you are that stupid?

“So now you conveniently deny that you started meddling with the agreement and threatened to annul it just so I would have no choice but to come here?” you retort. “Blackmail! That’s low even for you!”

“What blackmail, you nonsensical woman?!” he rumbles, raising his voice slightly, still not looking at you.

You smirk in satisfaction, seeing that you are still able to get to him. “Are you pretending you don’t know? Why then did Lord Dain tell me that you were going to reject the agreement?”

“I have no idea why he would tell you so,” he grunts, turns around and starts pacing in the opposite direction. “You and me… we did not part on best terms, but I always honor the agreements I sign. All of them,” he flashes his ice-blue gaze at you, almost pinning you to the spot. “The first batch of our weapons is ready to be transported to the Iron Hills.”

He has just looked at you. It was just a glance and yet your silly heart makes a flip. Ignore it, Ragna. It means nothing.

“Then why would he tell me that Lady Dis warned…” your voice trails off. Oh, crap. You weren’t supposed to tell anyone about it. Ragna, what is happening to you? Are you so afflicted by his presence that you forgot to hold your guard up? Weren’t you supposed to put this silly infatuation behind? “Dis? What does my sister have to do with it?” Thorin Oakenshield turns to you and you see how deep his frown is. “Nothing. I must have heard wrong. I apologize, your majesty,” you bow your head in an attempt to lull his suspicions.

The King glares down at you.

“Tell me. What did she warn Dain about?”

You know very well that you could keep on avoiding telling him the truth, but you are smarter than that. It all boils down to one simple decision: due to your indiscretion, one of the descendants of Durin is going to be furious at you. It’s either going to be his temperamental majesty Thorin, the second of his name, or Lord Dain, a wild boar in the body of a dwarf.

“I was informed that you, your majesty, wished to annul the agreement,” you say, “But Lord Dain knew it already from the letters you sent him.”

“What letters?!” the King’s frown deepens even more. “I haven’t written to him since before my visit to the Iron Hills!”

“Then why was he so upset about the agreement?” you counter. “I have never seen him so worried!” “Dain? Upset? Worried? About some pieces of parchment?!” he gives out a sullen chuckle. “The last time I saw that hog worried was when his prized war boar was ailing!”

If this is the King’s idea of a joke, you are not amused.

“Explain it to me then, your majesty: why did he insist on me coming here to try to change your mind about something that you did not even think of d--” And then it dawns on you. “Oh.”

You raise your eyes to meet Thorin’s piercing, icy gaze that almost makes you shudder. Thoughts are running through your mind as swiftly as a startled deer. You feel the heat on your cheeks. No, it can’t be possible… can it?

“Yes, oh indeed.” he nods slightly, and a shadow passes over his stony, expressionless face. “So, you are saying that if not for my cousin Dain and my sister, you would not have accepted my invitation?” The familiar, tormenting ache spreads within you, making you unable to speak, so you simply nod. He turns his back towards you once again and remains silent for a few moments, as if he were a statue carved out of obsidian.

When he finally speaks, his rumbling voice is only slightly louder than a murmur. “And now you say that…” he clears his throat. “That Dis approached you on my behalf.”

This is surprising. You could have sworn that you heard a hint of disbelief in his voice.

“Lady Dis was quite straightforward about it. She even hinted at…” take a deep breath, Ragna, you can say it. It’s just a stupid word. “At you searching for… for a queen.” Here, you said it. A spark of hope, the hope that you had to hide with Lady Dìs, passes through your lips only to fizzle out. As soon as you utter this word that seems to burn your tongue, the King Under the Mountain turns back to face you, braid beads clinking in his hair, his stormy eyes boring into your face. His next words, although quiet, make your eyes widen. “I am not searching for a queen. And I certainly did not employ my sister to coax you into changing your mind,” he states firmly.

You swallow, waiting for his first statement to sink in. Stupid, stupid Ragna, what were you thinking? Were you really hoping…? You close your eyes for a few moments, hoping that the incessant pounding in your head would finally stop. It is making you slightly nauseous. But to be honest, the whole conversation does. Whose idea was it to leave the feast and follow Th… the King, anyway? You reap what you sow, Ragna.

“I don’t understand…” you mumble, resting your gaze on your shaking hands. You hide them quickly behind you.

“Dain and Dis. When we were children, we used to call them Double Trouble,” he explains, but instead of an expected chuckle, you hear a melancholic sigh. “They were always thick as thieves, always meddling, always playing tricks on others. It seems like they played a trick on us both this time.”

As soon as the King stops talking, you hear the sound of his iron boots stomping against the stone floor. You raise your gaze and see how he approaches you in an unhurried manner. Almost immediately you notice how tired he looks from up close, quite unlike the majestic picture of a king you saw from a distance at the feast. There are shadows under his tired eyes, his cheeks seem slightly more hollow than you remembered, and there are a few more silver strands in his rich mane of dark hair.

The King’s brow casts a deep shadow over his eyes. He bows his head slightly and speaks in a hollow voice.

“Please accept my apology for all the inconveniences my invitation has obviously caused you, Lady Ragna. Clearly, it was not the cleverest idea on my part. I was under the impression that you came here out of your free will. I hoped…” he clears his throat and stays silent for a moment, his Durin’s apple bobbing. Your breath hitches and your heart is suddenly beating faster than before. He hoped, that’s what he said. You are sure you heard it right. He hoped…

Before you have the chance to react, he continues matter-of-factly.

“You asked me why I invited you. There was a matter I wished to discuss with you. A... business matter. But now, since...” “I want to hear it!” you interject, surprising both him and yourself at the same time.

“In the light of the recent events, I do not believe it would be advisable nor proper for us to continue our acquaintance,” he speaks, shaking his head slowly. The features of his face are impenetrable, but you notice that he clenches and unclenches his ringed hand. The hand that once tenderly caressed your cheek in the sweet darkness of the night. Damn it, Ragna, don’t you dare cry now! You have always been a pragmatic dwarf-woman, this is no time for emotions, they always get in the way of business. You learned it the hard way, didn’t you?

“As the old dwarven saying goes, business is business,” you say, trying to control your voice as best as you can. “I’m sure that both you, your majesty, and I can put all the… personal issues... aside if it’s a matter of business.”

The King studies your face for a moment. He stops clenching his fist and puts both of his hands behind his back again. There is a glint in his eye when he speaks again. There it is, Thorin the King.

“Very well. I will come straight to the point, my lady,” he nods. “My offer was as follows: Erebor is in need of a skilled negotiator both during the upcoming treaty talks with the Woodland Realm, and in future due to the expected increase of business with other realms. I admired the professionalism you presented during my latest stay in the Iron Hills and I am aware that you have previous experience in negotiating with Thranduil.”

“Oh,” you reply. This is the only word you manage to say while the cogwheels in your mind are spinning too fast for their own good. The King of Erebor is looking at you expectantly.

You have to tread carefully now. The position of the head negotiator of Erebor, the most prominent of all seven dwarven kingdoms, is more than you have ever dreamed of. The prestige. The prospects. The possibilities, including being able to oversee large-scale international trade. But you are too experienced not to know that such offers always come with a catch. You just have to find it.

“Thank you for your generous offer, your majesty,” you reply, “but it would have been impossible for me to accept it. I don’t believe Lord Dain can spare his trade advisor. May I remind you that I’m to take part in the negotiations with King Thranduil on behalf of the Iron Hills?” “It was Lord Dain who recommended you himself for this position. Both Erebor and Iron Hills are prepared for you to conduct the negotiations on behalf of both our realms,” he explains.

“Oh,” you say again. How eloquent of you. Have you forgotten that there are other words in your vocabulary, Ragna? But then a detail comes back into your mind. “What if Lord Dain’s suggestion was just a part of his and your sister’s plan to keep me here?”

The King remains silent for a few moments, looking directly into your eyes and you notice how his jaw clenches as the glint in his eyes slowly fades away. But then he shrugs and his face turns into stone again, the minuscule crack in his armor disappearing without a trace. That damn armor of his!

“Does it matter at this point?” he asks raspily. “I was prepared to offer you this position, including appropriate remuneration and accommodation, no hidden clauses, no misunderstandings. Nothing more than your services as the head negotiator under this Mountain. That was however when I thought you had accepted my invitation because you... wanted to.”

“It is a very generous offer, your majesty,” you admit, but you want to get to the bottom of this. “But I believe it contains a flaw. I wouldn’t be able to act as your representative: as a citizen of the Iron Hills I can't lead political meetings or deals between Erebor and other reigns, dwarven or not, on behalf of your Mountain.” Thorin the King nods, clearly agreeing with your words, as if he has been expecting this question.

“Once you said that a skilled negotiator needs to think of everything. I had a solution to this issue. I was prepared to propose it, but I do not believe it is valid any longer,” he speaks in that measured tone of voice he has been using on official occasions, and you notice that he is playing with one of his rings, quickly turning it back and forth around his finger. You have never seen him do this before.

“May I ask what you were prepared to offer?” you frown.

There is an almost imperceptible pause as he gathers his breath to speak. His face is completely unreadable, as if it was carved in white marble, but the sound that leaves his mouth is more of a growl than anything else.

“Marriage.”

So here’s the catch. Now it is your turn to gather your breath. Breathe in. Count to four. Breathe out. Don’t you dare to faint, Ragna. You are standing on a platform above a chasm that goes all the way to the heart of the Mountain, remember? Fainting is not a smart idea, and you are a smart dwarf-woman, aren’t you? “Excuse me, your majesty, but I don't quite understand. Haven’t you said that you were not seeking a queen?” There. That was smart. Good job, Ragna, keep it going! The King presses his lips into a thin line and his ice-blue eyes pierce you to your very core. “That is true. In this case, however, I was... prepared to ask you whether you would do me the honor of becoming my wife,” he speaks gruffly, his eyes stubbornly not leaving your face, making you forget to breathe.

Mahal, Mahal, Mahal! Did he really say that or are you hallucinating? And was it even Thorin the King who spoke those words? You can’t believe your ears. A chill creeps down your spine and your headache attacks you with double strength. Those words, those cursed words. You have never thought you would ever hear them from him, not like this.

Hundreds of images flood your mind. You close your eyes for a moment to banish them, but they seem to dance under your eyelids. All those images you had secretly dreamed of during those blissful and passionate weeks, all the possibilities, all those days, all those years you had fantasized about without even acknowledging it. But a slow, cold flame of ruthless reality begins to burn them to ashes.

No, his words can’t be real. No, it’s impossible. If he had really wanted to ask you to marry him, he would have done it weeks before. He would have asked you that last night, that fateful night, and then you would have cried and laughed, and finally you would accept him. He would have taken you to Erebor and tonight you could have been sitting by his side in the Main Hall. You would have been gently squeezing his large, warm hand under the table laughing with him at Lord Dain’s frolics. But that’s not what happened. He didn’t ask you and now you are here in the drafty throne room with a broken heart and a shattered soul. There is a catch, remember, Ragna? There is always a catch with him and this time you know what it is.

“You wanted… to marry me… in order to secure my skills as a negotiator?!” you exclaim. The wall you built around your heart cracks and falls apart with a dull ache. Your head is splitting. Your vision is blurry. The vivid images of the happy future that could have been are gone from your mind, blown away like ashes in the wind. Liquid fury runs through your veins. And then you laugh, but there are no sparks of joy in your voice, only overwhelming sadness that coaxes the tears out of your eyes.

“Did you think that this would be a fair price to buy me? Both my body and my mind? Can’t you take no for an answer?!” you start sobbing, no longer caring about the tears that make your cheeks wet. “First you ask me to become your concubine, your private bird in your private golden cage, a diamond in your priceless gem collection, and when I refuse because I want to live my life fully, on my own terms, you decide to play not only with my body, but with my mind as well?! Do you think I’m a soulless tool you can use and discard whenever you wish?”

“Ragna!” he interjects, gritting his teeth, fury flaming in his eyes, but you don’t let him continue.

“I have feelings too, I have desires and dreams! Did you really imagine that I’d fall on my knees in awe as soon as you graciously offered to marry me? That I would dutifully do my work on your behalf during the day and spread my legs for you during the night? Two birds with one stone, eh? How convenient for you, you heartless scoundrel! I told you already once, I never wanted to be your bed warmer and I’m not changing my mind!” you shout straight into his face, not caring about propriety or etiquette. Screw it all.

“I’ve heard enough!” he growls loudly and you can almost see the lightnings of wrath coming from his eyes.

Both your and his words are echoing in the throne room, but you don’t care. Rapidly you turn your back to the stonyhearted King and start walking away when a series of sobs escapes you. The only thing you want now is to leave this bloody throne room, or better, the whole bloody Mountain with it’s overconfident king inside as soon as you can, just like he ordered you to do a few moments ago. You can’t stand any more heartache. This was a mistake, you kissing him in that corridor in the Iron Hills just before the battle, spending all those nights with him, and then coming here. Yes. One gigantic mistake. Now it’s the time to admit it to yourself.

Thorin the Warrior, Thorin the Lover, Thorin the King is still in your heart, even if you did everything in your power to get rid of your unrequited feelings for him. You knew that coming to Erebor would hurt. You were right. It hurts, more than you thought. To make matters worse, the King’s behaviour is making it even more painful than it could have been.

“Do not dare to leave this place! We are not done here!” he bellows after you. His fingers wrap around your arm, forcing you to stop.

“Yes, we are!” you shout, not turning back, shaking off his grip and walking away even faster.

“Ragna!” your name echoes against the walls of the chamber, a new, coarse tone in his voice, even more demanding than before.

You feel his fingers around your arm again, forcing you to stop, and then more of his words reach you, along with a sigh. “Do you not understand what I was… what I am trying to say, you insolent woman?!”

You turn back to face him, fury etched in your face, ready to roar at him at the top of your lungs, to make sure that he understands the storm raging in your heart.

“Apparently I don’t! Pray enlighten me with your wisdom, your majesty, but be quick about it so I can finally leave this cursed place and you can go back to your comfortable kingly life, surrounded by dozens of pretty maidens, picking them one by one to be your mistresses, as if they were ripe apples waiting to be plucked by the great Thorin Oakenshield himself!” there, you said it.

“What mistresses are you talking about, Ragna?!”

“The ones that keep your bed warm at night! Don’t you remember this is what you offered me as well?” your voice breaks. That stupid, useless pain is still there and it doesn’t want to go away.

He closes the distance between you in one angry stride.

“There has not been anyone else! Only you, every damn day and night since I have met you! No one but you, Ragna!” he roars.

You are gaping at him, lost for words. And hallucinating. Yes, this time there can’t be any other explanation. After the prolonged strain of the last months it has finally happened. You have gone crazy and you are hearing things.

“No one...?” you manage to squeak out and take a step back, or rather jump back as if you have just encountered raging fire about to burn you alive. A fire that can’t be quenched even by all the tears you are shedding.

“Ragna…” his features are softening as he slowly approaches you, his movements fluid and careful, and there is a sudden tenderness in his voice. What an amazing hallucination this is.

Thorin the… no, not the King, neither the Warrior, but Thorin, just Thorin, lifts his hand towards your face, glances at you briefly, and then withdraws his arm.

“I am trying… This has nothing to do with the agreements nor your skills. It is about you, Ragna. I want you to know... ” he clears his throat and his voice regains its previous strength. His brilliant blue eyes meet yours, his jaw proudly set. “My true name is Thorin.”

Exactly five heartbeats pass until you understand his words. Yes, five, you have been counting, even though your panicked brain is frantically running around in circles. Thorin Oakenshield has just told you his true name. Hasn’t he?

“But…” you croak. Suddenly, your throat feels parched. “But Thorin is your chosen name!” “It is,” he nods, squaring his shoulders.

“So how can it be your true name as well?!”

“The best guarded secret is one that is kept in plain sight,” he smirks sadly.

What an annoying dwarf! You grit your teeth. Of course. This is so HIM. So arrogant, so full of himself. Well, maybe a bit clever, too. His true name is there for everyone to see. It’s clear that he did it on purpose, as if mocking any attempts of gaining power over him. Thorin Oakenshield is too stubborn, too bullheaded to be bothered by someone trying to control or influence him in any way. Fat chance! You tried it yourself and look where it got you!

And yet, he has shared his deepest secret with you. The secret that only a handful of dwarves is privileged to know. The secret that should be shared only with his closest family. His sister, his nephews, and… Oh, Mahal.

“Why,” you mumble as you lift your hand to your trembling lips. “Why are you telling me this? Why now?”

“Because I refuse to pretend any longer. I want you to know how much I... esteem you. I am done with all those half-truths. What happened between us…” he pauses for a moment, his eyes rest on your lips for a blink of an eye, and there is a hint of melancholy in his voice, “For me, it was not just a treat to sweeten up the negotiations. I understand it is too late now to pretend that the words we exchanged that night never happened. I wish you to know the truth.”

“So you…” you mumble. “But then…” you utter two more words. “How…” This is where you give up. Ragna, can’t you even put a sentence together? Easy to say, huh? It is as if your mind stopped working altogether. The words Thorin said don’t make any sense to you. The way he acts now doesn’t make any sense either. He can’t think this way. Can he? Surely, he doesn’t. Is this a trick? You can say many things about him but you know that he is not a liar. But why, why does he entrust you of all people with his true name like this? He was only interested in having you in his bed, nothing more! But now he says… Damn your headache, you can barely think straight and you are even more confused than before.

“What do you expect of me now?” you ask carefully.

“Nothing,” you hear his reply and meet his unwavering, darkened gaze.

“But you have just told me your true name! And you don’t know me that well! How can you even trust me with such a secret?! How can you be sure that I won’t tell everyone about it?!” you burst out, furrowing your brow.

“I know you well enough to recognize loyalty, honor…” he lets out a sigh and then shakes his head slowly. You can barely hear his subdued voice when he says, “I have truly cherished those two weeks we had. Treat my offering as a parting gift, a token of appreciation.”

“But this is your secret! You should share it with someone close, someone special!” you protest. You have to make him see! He should take it back! What was he thinking? He enjoyed spending time with you, you understand that much, but this is not the reason to burden his ex-lover with that kind of knowledge! This is all wrong, it is not supposed to be happening like this! “How can you allow me to leave your Mountain with this knowledge?!”

You feel the heaviness of Thorin’s gaze on your face but he doesn’t respond at first. Silence rings in your ears. When he speaks, his voice is solemn, almost devoid of emotion, and somehow, he looks even more tired than before.

“It is yours now, and I am aware that you will take it with you. If you think this is a trick to make you stay in Erebor, you are mistaken. I am not a fool and will not repeat my offer. I know it is unwanted,” he clenches his jaw, his face looks like a stone mask.

What business does he have to look so disappointed?! Does he think you will feel sorry and change your mind now? Does he still not get what you said that night?! Apparently, being utterly confused doesn’t stop you from feeling anger again and raising your voice, “You wanted me to become your concubine!”

“This was meant as an honourable proposal! I wished for you to be by my side and enjoy all the honors and comforts suitable for the king’s official companion! When I said it, I meant… I didn't understand…” he gives out an impatient grunt and tries again. “I had time to think about what you told me that night, about what was important to you…”

“And what has changed now? You wanted me in your bed so much and you needed me to work for Erebor so badly that you were even prepared to marry me? And now you tell me your name? Why?” you retort. He is still not making any sense, at least not in your head. “You can choose anyone, there are so many beautiful ladies swooning at the sight of you, trying to get your attention…”

That shadow of melancholy that has clouded his eyes suddenly dissolves, giving way to the bright, ice-blue glare.

“Give me strength, you insufferable woman! You and your ideas! Nothing has changed!” he roars, furrowing his brow. “Have you not heard what I said? Do you truly not see? I am aware that you do not reciprocate my affection, but you are the one I love, Ragna! You, not anyone else! Do you understand?”

The silence that falls after his words is deafening.

Thorin is towering above you, his chest heaving. He is clearly waiting for your reaction, but his words have made you freeze and your mind goes blank. He has just said the l-word. You heard it well. He said it, no, he shouted it angrily in your face. Your eyes widen. This is the word you buried deep in your heart many weeks ago, promising yourself to forget it forever. Your vision blurs, but you don’t care about the tears flowing from your eyes nor about your completely ruined makeup. Something blooms in your chest and a tiny shiver of something you can’t explain dances down your spine. Yes, Ragna. He really said it. The l-word. And he spoke your name. And your cheeks are wet. And your headache is suddenly, inexplicably gone. And your heart flutters in your chest.

Taking a deep breath, you close the distance between you, barely able to keep balance.

“You… you do?” your voice trembles as you raise your face to meet his gaze, trying to stop the flowing tears.

“I’m afraid so,” he murmurs, nodding slightly. There is a softness in the way he looks at you, as if a field of cornflowers bloomed in his eyes under a stormy sky of sadness.

Thorin’s hand unhurriedly wanders to your cheek and his thumb gently wipes away a solitary tear. The warmth of his skin seems to melt the ball of ice that has constantly been growing in your heart since the moment he left the Iron Hills.

“Forgive me,” he speaks softly under his breath. “I should not have said it. I never wished for my confession to be the reason for your tears.”

You give out a small chuckle and he looks at you in puzzlement. He probably thinks that you have gone mad. Well, maybe you have. And maybe he has as well. Right now, it seems that the whole world has gone mad, but you don’t care. This is your chance, a chance you have never thought you would ever get. You are going to ride this madness to its very core, and this time you are going to follow the voice of your heart.

“You silly, silly king,” you whisper, grabbing the folds of his tunic and standing on your tiptoes. Swiftly, before your mind starts overthinking the situation, you let your emotions run freely, and press your lips against his half-opened mouth, stopping him from speaking. He tastes like malt beer and sweet tobacco smoke, and his lips are as soft as you remembered, but then he interrupts your kiss and pulls back slightly, cupping your face with his hands the way you kept dreaming of every night, touching you carefully, as if he was expecting you to disappear at any moment. “Ragna…?” he speaks hoarsely, knitting his brow, and his gaze searches your face.

“You should have told me weeks ago, you stubborn oaf!” you brush your nose against his, smiling widely. “Tell you… what?” he replies as his frown deepens.

You sigh. Has one sweet kiss completely befuddled his brain? One of your hands moves to his face and covers his bearded cheek. At the same moment, Thorin leans into your touch and your heart skips a beat. Oh, how you missed this prickling sensation against your skin!

“Tell me how you felt, of course!” you explain and see how he shakes his head.

“I did not understand what I felt. I was too blind to see what I found,” his voice lowers to a gruff murmur. “I had to lose you, Ragna, to see it. By then it was already too late to take back both my actions and my words. I had to accept that for you it was only a fleeting affair.”

“It wasn’t!” You interrupt him as fast as you can, nearly screaming at the top of your lungs. Thorin looks at you shocked, the wrinkle between his eyebrows becomes more and more visible. You take a deep breath and look down unable to handle his stare. “I was confused and too afraid…” your lower lip trembles and you have to take a deep breath to steady yourself.

Blinking away the tears welling in your eyes at the painful memories, you continue.

“I didn't want to throw my whole life away in exchange for an empty chamber in Erebor and your embrace at night, nothing more. This wasn’t what I wanted. It didn’t feel like a fair trade.”

“Did you truly think I would lock you in a golden cage?” the muscles of his jaw tighten.

Thorin’s voice is heavy as he speaks, full of worry and sadness. You clearly remember both the words you said to him that cursed night, and the words you hadn’t had the courage to utter. Guilt and regret start taking over your mind, dark and chilling like a winter’s night. You hurt him, as much as he hurt you. “I said some things... I wish I could take them back. I know you wouldn’t let it happen, you wouldn't keep me away from the world. I simply didn’t wish to become your lover and have my heart shattered when you marry someone else,” you whisper, looking away in embarrassment. “I didn’t dare to admit what I felt for you…”

“Will you tell me what you feel now, sweet Ragna?” he whispers huskily, his breath mingling with yours. His thumb caresses your cheekbone and you don’t want it to stop. Ever. The warmth of his touch on your face, the way he looks at you, the emotion that softens the features of his face, everything starts making sense. Incredible tenderness fills his eyes, along with a bright splash of hope, and so many, many other emotions. It all takes your breath away. Can this really be happening?

“I…” you begin, still unable to look at him, but no more words come out from your mouth. Biting your lip, you hide your face in the ornamented tunic that covers his broad chest. The fabric mercifully dries some of your tears, enveloping you with a familiar scent of pine, some unknown exotic spices and soap. Your hands find their way under Thorin’s cloak and you wrap your arms around his torso, your body pressed flush against his. It feels wonderfully, amazingly, excitingly real. Just like Thorin. Your Thorin.

His embrace is even better, even more reassuring than you remembered. Thorin is holding you close in his strong arms, as if he was shielding you from the world beyond the two of you.

“Thorin, I…” you whisper his name, his true name, slowly relaxing into the firmness of his chest, your cheek resting against his pectoral, rivulets of tears running down your cheeks.

He gently lifts your chin up with his finger and you see the curve of his lips, a hint of a smile hiding in his beard.

“Why are you crying, Zunshanushê?” you feel his voice rumbling in his chest as he brushes away your tears with the back of his hand. “Have I asked for too much?”

Zunshanushê. His tiny songbird. When he speaks this word, his voice is as tender as on that night in the Iron Hills when he called you the same way for the first time. Had he already meant what he said back then? Calling you his? What if he did? Is it possible that you have misinterpreted all the signs so badly?

“No, you haven’t,” you swallow your tears, but you can’t stop yourself from smiling. “It’s because I’m happy! Because you are here, because I am here too, and we are embracing, and you are not letting me go, and you look at me this way, and I see you smile, and I’ve just heard you say…” you realize that you are blabbing, but you don’t care any longer. “These are happy tears, because... you have my heart, Thorin… you truly do...”

You have finally shared your secret with him. Your true feelings for this amazing, irritating, alluring, and clueless dwarf. The words pleasantly slide off your tongue, leaving a sweet aftertaste in your mouth and a deep warmth growing in your chest. It is both exhilarating and terrifying. As if something big was ending, and there was a new trail ahead, but you didn’t have the slightest clue about where it could lead.

You gently take his hand into your trembling hand and place it over your heart, covering it with your palm, trying to explain what you are unable to say in words. Thorin’s gaze moves between your face and your intertwined hands, now trapped together between your bodies.

“Ragna, are you saying…?” he whispers hoarsely. You are suspecting that now it is his turn to think he is hallucinating. Luckily, you know a very good remedy for this affliction.

“Yes. And I would like you to kiss me now, Melhekhel,” you say, moving your chin up and closing your eyes.

You don’t have to wait long. Thorin’s reply comes soon after; his lips lightly brush against yours, and then a feather-light kiss lands on your upper lip. The next one caresses your lower lip slowly while one of his hands cups the back of your head, his fingers sinking in your hair. His hot breath fans against your delicate skin and Thorin’s lips start peppering your cheeks, your nose, your mouth with soft little kisses, igniting the light of countless new stars in the firmament of your face. One kiss for every tear you have ever shed, thinking of him. One kiss for every night full of torment after he left. Each kiss seems to be even more tender than the previous one; as if Thorin was professing the depth of his feelings, etching it into your skin, affirming it over and over again. With these kisses, a whole new trail stretches before both of you, a trail woven of hope, dreams and your hearts beating in unison.

“Is this the kiss you had in mind, Zunshanushê?” he murmurs, pecking your nose.

All the sensations you experience, all the emotions you feel overwhelm you with their sudden outburst; your knees are suddenly weak and you sway. Thorin steadies you, his strong arms are holding you tight. You have never before felt so extremely happy at the fact that this dwarf is embracing you now.

Chuckling in embarrassment, you say, glancing at him hopefully from under your eyelashes, “I guess it will do. But I think we will have to make up for all the time we were apart.” You press your lips to the upturned corner of his mouth, brushing against the thickness of his beard, and then, as he leans closer towards you, you give him a gentle, lingering kiss, just one, but it is a kiss that contains all your hopes, your desires, and your dreams alike; all that your heart has been brimming with since the moment that blissful realization has dawned upon you. Thorin loves you, Ragna. And you love him.

When your lips part, you take a deep breath; your eyes flutter open and you see his face so impossibly close to yours. His blue eyes have a familiar softness to them, the softness you have seen several times before, never understanding what it truly was. But now you know. Thorin is like a book in a foreign language, the language of his heart, and you have finally learned to decipher it.

“How could we be so blind?” you exclaim. “We were both clueless like cave bats on a sunny day! I can’t believe we’ve wasted so much time for silliness!”

“It has never been a waste of time for me,” Thorin brushes a stray lock of your hair away from your face and gives you a small smile. “It brought you to me. And I don’t intend to let you go. You are my cave bat now.” As you chuckle, something flickers in his eyes, a gentle kiss lands on your lips, overwhelming you with tenderness. The world seems to spin around you in joy, making you sway, but he is there, standing in front of you and holding your hands firmly in his. You give him a smile, and the dizziness in your head subsides as you focus on the warmth of his touch, the pleasant roughness of his skin when his hands of a warrior cover yours and his cornflower blue gaze rests tenderly on your face.

“The first time I saw you, Ragna... here, in Erebor…” Thorin speaks slowly, as if he was weighing each of his words before daring to speak them aloud. “I could barely tear my eyes away from you.”

He gives out a sigh and continues, oblivious to your widened eyes and mouth forming an ‘O’.

“The way you look… The way you move… Your voice... The fire in your eyes… The way you turn into a fierce warrior at the negotiation table…” each phrase he laboriously utters is punctuated by a heavy grunt and he exclaims, frowning with frustration. “By Mahal’s beard, this is harder than fighting a pack of Orcs!”

You can’t stop yourself from giggling and press a hot kiss against the curved line of his mouth.

“But it is much more pleasant! Is there a chance,” you whisper into his ear, rubbing your cheek against his, “that you could tell me more?” You nibble gently at his earlobe, knowing how much he likes it, the tip of your tongue tracing its curve.

“Woman,” he purrs, “you are such a distraction from… from yourself. I am trying to tell you, or rather struggling…” “You are doing really good, my King,” you tease him as your lips find their way to meet his mouth once again. It seems that you can’t get enough of the sweet, tender kisses you have been exchanging, because this one takes even longer than the previous one. When your lips part, Thorin looks at you intensely.

“Zunshanushê, will you allow me to continue?” his chest rises as he takes a deep breath, the playfulness disappearing from his voice. You give him an encouraging nod, not quite sure what else he may want to say. You wouldn’t say no to hearing more of his compliments, now, when you have finally learned of his feelings towards you, but something tells you there are other things on his mind.

“It took me a long time to comprehend… perhaps too long...” Thorin starts with a grunt, “But I have finally understood the true meaning behind our legends. Do you remember the stories describing how Mahal himself carved Durin and his spouse from the same piece of rock? I gave up hope of finding the other half of my rock years ago,” he closes his eyes for a moment. “Only to find it at the least expected time and place. Now that I have her in my arms… I do not want to lose her again.”

Your eyes widen. And… and… you’re speechless. By Kaminzabdûna’s lush braids… This… This is… If not for the fact that you see Thorin right in front of you, as you are drowning in the twin pools of his gaze, you would have never guessed that he was capable of professing his feelings in such a way. Come to think of it, you are wondering whether he knew it himself. Or, to be more precise, you would, if you weren’t busy melting after the full meaning of his words has reached you.

“There is a question I wish to ask of you, both as a dwarf, and as a king,” Thorin continues, firmly holding your hands in his.

For a moment, it seems that all the air has gone from the world, or maybe the Mountain has turned upside down, because… because...

Thorin Oakenshield kneels in front of you.

Again.

Just like he did that one time.

Only now you are not in a broom cupboard in the Iron Hills.

You are in the throne room of Erebor.

The legendary Arkenstone, the King’s Jewel, is shining at you from above.

And the King is kneeling; and smiling at you softly; and his eyes are brighter than ever before.

There is only one occasion on which it is proper for a king to kneel in front of a standing person. It is only when...

Your breath hitches.

“Th-- Thorin?” somehow you manage to articulate his name.

“Ragna, daughter of Eldi, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife and my queen?” he says gruffly and his words make your world spin again. Your heart is racing, and you have to, you need to hold on to his large, warm hands, his steady grip anchoring you in the moment.

“But… but you said you were not searching for a queen...” you whisper, trying to understand what is happening. He nods, looking at you from under his heavy brows, his eyes sparkling, “I am not. I have already found her. The question is, would she agree to marry an old, grey-haired battle invalid?”

You feel him squeeze your hands gently, and then something in your mind clicks. Wake up, Ragna, stop staring at your king like a goat at a cabbage patch. Thorin, the dwarf who found his way to your heart, is waiting for your answer! You open your mouth but only a strange, squeaky sound leaves your lips. The world starts revolving around you even faster and you fall on your knees before Thorin, barely able to gather your skirts on time. You don’t care how cold and hard the floor is, how drafty the chamber is; all you can think about is Thorin’s words ringing in your ears and his gaze lovingly caressing your face.

Tears run freely from your eyes and you suspect that at this rate you may be heavily influencing the water levels in the Long Lake. You wrap your arms around his neck and press your forehead against his, a sob escaping your lips.

“A very old, infirm, completely grey-haired invalid who can barely move?” your sob turns into a chuckle as you cradle his face in your palms, your tears making his cheeks wet. “I don’t know anyone who fits that description. But I know a great king, a tremendous warrior and an amazing lover who gets only better with age, just like the Dorwinion wine.”

“It is only because you know how to make him feel younger,” he murmurs as your fingers are running through his beard. At that moment, you can’t stop yourself from smiling through your tears of joy when he pulls you into a passionate kiss; your lips meet his and you want to taste him and drink him like the wine, enjoying every single sip for as long as you can.

“Oh, Thorin,” you manage to mumble against his lips and then everything turns into a blur. His hungry mouth covers yours, his hands roam your body, and yes, oh yes, he definitely feels alive. As he leans over you, you rest your hands on his shoulders and try to return his kiss with equal fervor when your noses bump against each other and your faces pull apart.

You burst out in laughter, and he joins you quickly, running his finger along the ridge of your nose.

“Have I injured you greatly?” he rumbles softly.

You shake your head, saying playfully, “You can kiss it better, to be on the safe side!”

Thorin, your Thorin, looks at you with a half-smile for a moment, and then replies, “As you wish!”

You close your eyes and wait for his kiss, but it never comes. Instead, a pair of strong arms lifts you effortlessly from the ground, and when you blink your eyes open, you are in the air, pressed against his chest as he takes a few steps ahead.

“Why am I being manhandled and where is my kiss?” you demand, wrapping your arms around his neck. You could definitely get used to this mode of transport, but you are not going to admit it, at least not yet.

“Patience, Zunshanushê, I am aiming at making it much better,” he smiles at you in that special way that makes him look so carefree and playful.

When he sits down, you gasp. Yes, Thorin is sitting down. On the ancient throne of the kings of Erebor. This is the place where the greatest events in the history of the Mountain have transpired, where great rulers and esteemed guests visited, where the most important ceremonies and audiences happened. And you are not quite being respectful of the place now, almost indecently settled in Thorin’s lap, feeling the hardness of his muscular thighs under your bottom, your arms around him, his arms around you.

And then Thorin kisses you softly on the tip of your nose as if you were in his private chambers. “There. Better now?” he gives you a bright small smile that reaches his eyes. “Yes, but… Thorin, we shouldn’t be here,” you protest, feeling the heat on your cheeks and trying to wiggle out of his embrace. “It’s the throne of the King Under the Mountain!” “May I remind you I happen to be him?” he gives out a rumbly chuckle, holding you steadily in place. To be honest, you don’t mind it at all.

“Yes, well, it’s hard to forget with that crown and everything,” you make a vague gesture at his attire, “but… but it’s improper!” “For me to be the king?” he chuckles with amusement.

“No! For us, like this, embracing, and kissing! It’s the great throne! The symbol of your rule!” you try to explain feverishly, but it seems like you are failing. The longer you speak, the wider Thorin’s smile gets.

“It is a chair, first and foremost,” he replies. “And it serves its purpose quite well, wouldn’t you say?”

“But only think of the scandal that would erupt if anyone saw us here!” you cautiously look around, focusing on all the entrances to the throne room.

“Do not fret, Zunshanushê. Can’t you hear the singing? The music? Who in their right mind would think of walking into the boring throne room now, in the middle of the feast, instead of being merry in the Main Hall?” Thorin seals his words with a gentle kiss on your lips.

“Well…” you hesitate. “I did.” “Only because you followed me,” he murmurs and pulls you closer to him, “which I am grateful for.”

When his lips rest on yours again, you bury your hands in his hair and plant several kisses along the curve of his mouth, as if they were budding flowers of happiness, his beard prickling against the softness of your skin. One of his temple braids brushes against your cheek when Thorin presents you with a bunch of kisses in full bloom, kindling the first flames of a familiar fire inside you. Through the fabric of your gown you feel the warmth of his hand sliding down your back, sending a tingling sensation down your spine. You offer your lips to him once more, and he covers them with his mouth in one bold move. You give out a small whimper when he grazes your lower lip with his teeth and then your lips part, allowing his tongue to gently slip inside.

Oh, Mahal, how you missed his kisses. Thorin takes your lips in his possession, piece by piece, letting his passion for you speak for him, letting you savor him for as long as you like. Tilting your head, you take him up on his offer, your lips dancing with his, softly, unhurriedly, as if you were getting to know each other once again. Everything seems so new, so exhilarating, and yet so familiar at the same time. You run your fingers through his long, wavy mane at the nape of his neck, making him purr. His hair is silky to your touch, as you remembered, but its scent is slightly different, amber with a hint of musk. His hand is now pressing into your thigh, and you feel how tense his shoulder muscles are. Thorin is holding himself back, his passion thrumming under his skin, like a recently tamed beast, barely held at bay. But now you are kissing, and only his lips matter, the sensual lips that have been haunting your dreams and whispering your name, your true name, in that alluring way, the feverish lips that now brush against your cheek, play with your earlobe, and then you feel his hot breath against its sensitive surface.

“Ragna, I’m burning for you,” he whispers hoarsely into your ear.

You turn your head to meet his gaze and see a stormy ocean of emotions, of desire so overwhelming, so urgent, that it almost matches yours. Admit it, Ragna. You feel the same hunger, the same thirst. But it’s not only his body that you crave. You want him, your Thorin, his mind and soul alike. Now that you know his true feelings for you, you yearn for a closeness that will fill the gaping need buried deep inside your heart. It’s just like the ancient legends say: some dwarves were created by Mahal from the same piece of rock. You’ve always thought these were only cute bedtime stories, until now. In Thorin’s arms, it all suddenly makes sense. The overwhelming emotions. The way your body responds even to the lightest of his touches. The fluttering in your chest whenever he looks at you. The peace that comes with his embrace. Perhaps there was a grain of truth in those stories after all?

You want to become one with him, because now you know for sure it was not just your imagination; legends or not, you truly feel that unique pull towards him, the other half of the rock you have been carved of. You have tried to ignore it, and failed, and now you want to feel whole again. With him. With the dwarf that reciprocates your feelings. With the king of your heart.

And is there a better place for it to happen than the throne of kings?

Your eyes meet his and for a moment there is nothing else in the world, no Mountain, no feast, no throne room, only the boundless sea of his gaze. The only thing you want to do is to sail its waters under the clear sky of your passion, because you know that in the end he will lead you to the safe haven of his heart.

Thorin’s mouth is surprisingly soft and his feather-light touch makes you feel as if dozens of rose petals brushed against your delicate skin, and you feel yourself shiver with anticipation. When he rests his hands on your waist, bunching in the silk of your gown, you rest your hands on his shoulders and straddle him in a long, fluid movement. Wordlessly you thank whoever built this throne for making it large enough for both of you, hoping they would approve of your unorthodox use of this seat of kings (Mahal help you!).

But before your thoughts distract you completely, Thorin makes one of his alluring half-smiless and casts you a sensual glance from under his eyelids, only to drown you in a kiss that leaves you breathless and wanting for more as his hands run along the silky softness of your thighs.

Your skin prickles with the heat of his touch and you let out a sigh at the sensations it stirs within you. The only thing you yearn for now is his kisses and caresses, nothing more. Only his arms around you, only his titillating murmurs. Only Thorin. You want to feel his skin against yours. Even the clothes between you are too much. Swiftly your hands find your way under his doublet and tunic, quickly discarding them, along with his heavy cloak. Your fingers are running across his bare, sinewy chest, along the elaborate lines of his tattoos, and you feel his satisfied rumble under your palms before you hear it. You tremble in pleasure when he ghosts his lips along the length of your neck; you give out a yelp when he unlaces your bodice and buries his face in the soft curves of your breasts. You arch your back when his exploring mouth and hands cover them, kissing and caressing them generously, heralds of rapture blooming within you under his touch. You barely notice when he frees you from all the layers of your clothes, focused only on the pleasure his kisses bring as he covers every bare piece of your body with his mouth.

As he brushes his prickly beard against the buds of your nipples, a wave of heat devours you and you fist your hands in his hair with a stifled moan. Instinctively you press your core against his groin and gasp at the familiar hardness. The groan he gives out is lower than ever, heavy with lust, just like his lips are, scorching and wanting. Liquid fire runs through your veins, a familiar heat pooling between your legs.

“Thorin, please…” you mumble tentatively into his mouth, feeling the weight of six long weeks of feverish, unfulfilling dreams lifting from you. “What is it, Zunshanushê?” he murmurs in response, meeting your unfocused gaze. He probably feels how you are trembling against him. You rest your palms on the wide expanse of his chest, enjoying the way his hands rest on your waist, his fingers meeting over your spine.

“I… I want you, Melhekhel,” you manage to whisper, hoping he will understand. You want all of him, his gentle kisses, his tender smiles, the ardent glances he casts at you, his inquisitive mind, his fiery temper. Everything that makes Thorin the dwarf he is.

“You have me,” he replies huskily, his hand brushing against your cheek, cupping it. “All of me, my beautiful Ragna.”

When he places a soft kiss on your lips, you let out a shadow of a sigh. When his hands move along the curves of your body, meticulously, unhurriedly worshipping every inch of your body, you give out several stifled yelps. When his lips travel down, hungrily closing over the flower of your breast, your breath hitches and your impatience gets the better of you. As soon as he finishes his ministrations, you tilt down your face, finding his mouth and covering it with yours, while your palms travel down the ridges and valleys of his firm chest. The coarse trail of hair guides you down his abdomen, towards his navel, and there your fingers meet an obstacle. Your lips part and you cast a glance down between you at the massive metal buckle of his belt and his leather trousers it holds. “May I?” you lift your gaze to meet his, your eagerness suddenly gone, perhaps overwhelmed by the whole situation, the place, the throne, the multitude of various entangled emotions that suddenly fills you. This is your king. This is his throne room. This is his mountain. And this is you, wanting only him, the dwarf beneath all that splendour. But you don’t want him now, not just this once. You need him today and tomorrow, next week and next month, next year, and much, much longer.

“Always, Ragna,” Thorin moves his mouth over yours, devouring its softness. His large palm covers yours in an affirmative gesture and it’s all you need to know. When his belt buckle gives way with a clink, your fingers find their way to his trousers, quickly freeing him from the last layers of clothing that jealously guarded his body against your touch. You press your body flush against the rounded bulges of his muscles, marveling at the contrast between you, the delicate softness of your skin against the raw power slumbering beneath his skin. Thorin’s hand moves down your side and cups the curve of your bottom, purring sweet nothings into your ear, and a wild surge of pleasure runs through you.

And then, suddenly, he does something that makes you gasp. You feel an amazing hardness between your thighs. He is there, by your entrance, impossibly hot, eager to uncover the blissful secrets your womanhood has to offer.

“Come to me, Zunshanushê...“ you hear how hoarse his voice is, how tense his muscles are under your touch. You take him into your dewy garden with one lunge of your hips, and he follows you swiftly, your moan intermingling with his low groan.

In the motionless silence that comes after, Thorin presses his forehead against yours, and whispers one word, one special word, “Ragna…”

His voice is like bits of coarsely ground black pepper against the dark sweetness of wild honey. Even though he speaks your chosen name, it finds its way straight to your heart, taking a hold on it making the fiery flower encased within it open its petals in full bloom. Finally. You are one. Two pieces of the same rock, joined together.

I will stay with you.

He wraps his arms around you, splays his hand on your back and presses you close against his hard body of a warrior. His lips adorn the column of your neck with a myriad of soft kisses while your breasts brush against the coarseness of his chest hair. His skin is incredibly warm, almost scorching, but you know that fire well, and you welcome it gladly.

His hips move upwards in a delightfully slow thrust, his silky length sinking in you once again. You both give out a gasp of pleasure that portends the diamond peak of ecstasy. You tremble in yearning, but you are not in a hurry. There is a whole night ahead of you, and you intend to cherish the harmony of your bodies and hearts for as long as you can. Your searching lips against his lips. Your tingling skin against his skin. Your fervent breaths against his breaths. Everything else can wait. Gently rocking your hips against him, you press your lips to his, caressing his mouth more than kissing it, and then he moves again.

“Take all of me, Ragna,” he rests his hands on your hips, “Just as I am taking you.”

With these words, he thrusts deeper into you, at just the right angle. Your moan echoes in the chamber as he fills you completely, fitting inside you oh so perfectly, sending yet another wave of pleasure throughout your body.

I am not leaving. I found my place by your side.

“I missed your singing, Ragna.” Thorin catches your lower lip between his teeth and then kisses you ardently. “I love how you sing for me.” You tighten around him in pleasure, eliciting a groan out of him, a moment of bliss softening his features.

“I love it when I have you deep inside me... Thorin,” you retort, seeing a glint in his eye, chanting his name rather than speaking, time after time, as you move in unison.

Another thrust of his hips makes you tilt your head back and keen at the bliss that fills you.

“I love how you moan my name, Ragna,” you hear his raspy voice a moment before his lips find that special spot at the juncture of your shoulder and neck, sending ripples of fire through your body and waves of sweet abandon through your heart.

You found your way to my heart. And I found my way to yours.

“I love how…” you start.

He thrusts again, making you moan and cling to him tighter, your arms wrapped around his strong neck.

“You were saying, Ragna?” he whispers into your mouth, kissing you once more, coaxing the fire within you even more, but you are already overwhelmed with all the sensations you feel, your mind in a haze.

“I love…”

You rock your hips against him and lift your body slightly only to slide down onto his unbelievable hardness. Thorin’s eyes flutter open, unfocused, darkened with passion, and you can’t take your eyes off him, the color in his cheeks, his dilated pupils, the tension in his jaw, the relentless yearning in his movements. In that very moment, he is the perfect embodiment of a lover, a warrior and a king. You want this image burned into your eyes, into your heart, and into your mind forever, and you mean to guard it greedily, like your most precious treasure. A gem of the first water hidden under the countless layers of rock that has served as his armor for so long. But not tonight; tonight you have both shed your defenses just as you have shed your clothes, your bodies spurred by your mutual feelings, drifting on the blooming seas of rapture.

“Ragna….” he plunges into you, and you meet his thrust, and then another, in a tight embrace, so close, always so close, skin against skin, flesh against flesh, your breaths mingling, exchanging wet, tender, sloppy kisses, moving together towards the summit of your ecstasy.

We will have many nights together, and many days. Until the end of time.

He murmurs something under his breath, something that sounds like “you and me”, but you are not quite sure. Yes, you and him. This is the way you want it, Ragna. You want him, not just now, but you want him in your life, by your side, you want him when you wake up, and you want him when you fall asleep, you want him always by your side, to share both joys and miseries of life.

Another powerful thrust, another ardent kiss.

“I love…” you moan, set on finishing that complicated sentence, when all you can think is how amazing it feels when he… when he… Oh, Mahal!

Thorin presses you onto him at a new angle, sending you both among the stars, and there are only his hands on you, his hips against yours, his manhood sheathed deep inside you, his groans rumbling in his chest, his lips roaming your neck. There is only him. Thorin.

“I… love… you,” you finally say it, holding him tight as he rides your shared ecstasy in a series of delicious movements of his hips, a lush flower garden blooming with thousands of colors of bliss under your eyelids.

My heart belongs to you. Only you.

You don’t know how long you have existed as a disordered heap of limbs and discarded pieces of clothing, but when you finally come to, you feel that you are still in Thorin’s strong arms as you sit on his lap, with his fur-lined cloak wrapped around you.

You haven’t noticed when your elaborate hairstyle fell apart during your lovemaking. Yes, it was lovemaking, that’s how it felt, and that’s what it was. Now you are sure of it, and you are no longer afraid of saying that one little word. Love.

Countless braids adorned with your beads are now intertwined with Thorin’s braids among the waves of his raven hair. Your eyes are drawn to the chaotic pattern they created, and you like it. Just the way your braids are supposed to look like. Perfectly imperfect. Together.

***

“Are you asleep, Zunshanushê?” Thorin’s rumbling murmur reaches you as you rest your head on his shoulder. His arms are encircling you, and you feel relaxed, satiated, and, yes, a bit sleepy. Who would have thought the throne of Erebor was so comfortable?

“No,” you reply with a sigh, nuzzling his neck, your fingers playing with the hair on his chest. “I forgot how good this felt…” “If that is the case, I am willing to refresh your memory whenever you wish,” he chuckles and you like the way this sound reverberates in his body.

“I may take you up on this offer,” you place a kiss on the side of his neck, just above his collarbone, his hair brushing against your cheek. “Does that mean that you are willing to become my queen? Are we going to strike a bargain? Or do you require more… negotiations?” he teasingly squeezes your naked thigh and catches your lips in a sensual kiss.

“You use a very effective negotiation technique,” you admit when your lips part, trying to maintain a professional tone of voice. “And your argumentation is flawless. I believe I will accept your offer, your majesty, but these are my conditions.”

The kiss that comes after your statement is light as a feather and leaves you wanting for more. “I’m listening,” a mischievous glint lights up in Thorin’s eyes as he kisses you yet again.

You have to take a deep breath and put your thoughts in order before you state, “I will not be spending my days under the Mountain idly, choosing new dresses, deciding on menus or some other pointless frivolities.”

For a few heartbeats, Thorin’s lips meet yours again, sweetly, softly, before he speaks.

“No, Ragna, I imagine you would not,” he chuckles, and you notice the cornflower tenderness blooming in his eyes. And, of course, a kiss follows, to underline his words, and you welcome it gladly.

“I’m going to accept your offer and become the head negotiator for Erebor, but the decisions I make will be mine and mine alone,” you name another condition, your lips still tingling after the last kiss.

“I would not dare to insult your intelligence nor your honor by offering you a position in name only. Besides, Master Dvalarr who currently holds this post, wishes to retire soon, and he will not accept a meek and acquiescent successor,” Thorin’s lips curl up in a small smile and he leans towards you again. “Are there any other conditions I should be aware of?”

“Let me think…” your voice trails off as you close the distance between your mouth and taste his irresistible lips again, enjoying the warmth of his body against yours, his scent, his closeness. You don’t feel like talking business any more, you’d rather spend the rest of the night in his arms, wake up next to him in the morning, and then do something that you’ve never dreamed of doing with Thorin. You will finally share a breakfast with him. No more hiding, no more sneaking around in the wee hours of the morning on an empty stomach. Just you, him, and a hearty breakfast. You dreamed about it so often in the Iron Hills...

And then you recall, “Ah! One more thing! Yes, yes, I will lead those negotiations with Tranduil for you,” you correct yourself, “For Erebor and Iron Hills.”

“Thank you on behalf of our people for this great sacrifice,” a mischievous spark glints in his eyes and you can’t stop yourself from chuckling. In fact, all you want to do is laugh, and sing, and dance. And kiss Thorin, that silly oaf of a king, senseless. Which you promptly do.

“I believe you forgot about one crucial condition,” the silly oaf of a king says some time later, with a smile that makes the charming crow’s feet around his eyes even more visible.

“What is it?”

He cups your face, saying, “Our trip to Kheled-zâram.”

“Could we...?” your eyes widen in surprise. Your thoughts return to that evening in your chambers, to your father’s map you showed Thorin, and to the moment when you told him about your greatest wish. To see the lake by the East-gate of Moria, the place visited by Durin himself. To travel further than you have ever been before. To see all those places you have only dreamt of, to catch a glimpse of the nimble ibex, to spend a night under the starry sky among the dwarf mountain pines. And to think that until now you were convinced that Thorin offered to accompany you on that trip out of courtesy, nothing more. A blind cave bat, that’s what you are, Ragna. But at least you are not the only one.

The other blind cave bat, the one with the crown, says, “I believe we have already agreed on it, have we not?”

“But King Thranduil is coming soon, and the negotiations will begin, and there is so much to do… Will we even have enough time for such a trip?” You frown while your mind is frantically going through your busy schedule.

“We most certainly will. We have the customary six months after the wedding where I can retire from my duties for some time. It is about time Fili took on some new responsibilities. Besides, it only takes three weeks to arrive at the gates of Khazad-dûm. We would have ample time to see both the lake and the places you marked on your maps. What do you say, Zunshanushê?”

“Six months… after the… the wedding…?” you whisper, your mind working even more feverishly than before, trying to take in all the information. Your cheeks are burning and you bite on your lower lip in confusion. Suddenly a simple fact of hearing and saying this last, both exhilarating and terrifying word, makes it all too real. Your wedding. Your and Thorin’s.

“That is, if you agree to wed me, Ragna,” there is a hint of hope in Thorin’s bright cornflower eyes as he presses his forehead against yours. You feel the warmth of his skin, the minuscule swirls of air when he blinks and his eyelashes almost brush against yours, his nose touching yours, his breath fanning your skin. If you agree to wed him. You gulp nervously. This is the moment you have been dreaming of, haven’t you, Ragna? Ragna. That special, tender way he says your name makes you melt inside. That loving way. Yes, he loves you, and he wants to marry you, and it’s not a dream. The King Under the Mountain. Thorin Oakenshield. The king of your heart.

If you agree to wed him. He is a handful, an irritating, annoying, and stubborn handful, and so are you, an explosive mix, and yet... You take a look at his face, so close to yours, and you see that small smile hiding in the thicket of his beard, the same smile you saw on that day when you kissed for the first time. And there is that surprisingly soft look in his iridescent blue eyes that makes you think of the calm, clear waters of Long Lake on a sunny spring morning.

If you agree to wed him. You know very well that marrying him means saying yes not only to this wonderful, overbearing, thoughtful, infuriating dwarf, but to the whole Erebor, both to the king and his kingdom. To his desires and his duties. To Thorin the King who conducted negotiations demonstrating his iron will and expected to be thoroughly obeyed; and to Thorin who, on his knees, caringly fixed your dress in a broom closet. To Thorin the Lover who makes you melt under his scorching touch; and to Thorin who dismissed you frigidly from his chambers on that night in the Iron Hills. To Thorin the Warrior who slayed thousands of orcs; and to Thorin who looked so vulnerable in your bed that night in your chambers.

You will not just become his wife, you will be a queen, and the head negotiator, having countless duties of your own, every single day. But then you realize something. Every single evening, when the night comes, it will just be you and him, Thorin and Ragna, two souls in love. Two pieces of the same rock.

Without thinking, you wrap your arms around his neck. After all the emotional turmoil, you realize that this look in his eyes is the only thing you need. In a moment of clarity, you find your answer deep inside your fluttering heart, a million chaotic thoughts condensed into one word.

Your lips hover above his earlobe, almost brushing against his richly ornamented silver earcuff. You take a deep breath and whisper only one word.

Your true name.

--- THE END* ---

* * *

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 ... Please let me know how you liked this chapter! * If you liked the story - I have good news for you. There is going to be an epilogue!

Read it? Like it? Reblog it! Taglist: @fizzyxcustard @shrimpsthings @dark-angel-is-back @sherala007 @amelia307 @jotink78 @anyaspidergirl-blog @tschrist1 @rachel1959 @saltwater-in-the-afternoon @xmly-xo @justfollowtheroad @kirenia15 @linasofia @bitter-sweet-farmgirl @yourqueenunderthemountain @legolasbadass

238 notes • Posted 2021-04-28 15:24:40 GMT

#3

All Is Fair in Love and Trade –  Part 1/10

This is my reply to @gwen-ever​‘s ask. Thank you so much 💙💙💙 I got really inspired by this one and, well... see for yourselves 😉 

Relationships: Thorin x Reader

Rating: M (it will turn into E at one point)

Warnings: none

* * * All Is Fair in Love and Trade, part 1/10

“Twenty percent off our regular iron ore price,” you state your offer firmly.

“It is not possible, my lady,” his low, rumbly voice reverberates against the walls of the chamber.

“Twenty-five,” you offer. You won’t give up that easily. Especially not when the prosperity and safety of your home, Iron Hills, is at stake.  And especially when it comes to the legendary King Under the Mountain. You have heard a lot about him since he reclaimed his birthright and the kingdom of Erebor for his people five years ago. Some said he was cantankerous, others – that he was as stubborn as a mountain goat, and some – that he was a great warrior, while the elderly dwarves claimed that he was as skilled strategist as his grandfather. Everyone agreed on one thing: Thorin, son of Thráin, son of Thrór, had a temper. Unfortunately, none of those pompous bastards cared to mention how impossibly handsome he was.

Now, he is sitting across the table in a meeting chamber of Erebor, slowly shaking his head in disagreement. A vertical line of a frown cuts through his forehead. Though no crown graces his temples, he emanates a distinct regal air. One glance into those piercing ice-blue eyes of his and no one can doubt who is the king here. The dark mane of his hair, almost as black as a raven’s wing, cascades down his shoulders. One of his temple braids brushes against his bearded cheek. You can’t stop yourself from admiring his thick beard braid clasped with a bead made of silver and sapphires. The King of Erebor is both a formidable and an alluring opponent, but you don’t plan to budge.

“Twenty five percent, and we will deliver the final product to Erebor on our cost: blast furnace-cleaned, refined, high quality iron ingots straight from the Hills, ready to work with. This is my final offer, Your Majesty,” you repeat your generous proposal.

“My lady, I told you already: this is out of the question. The Forge Masters of Erebor will never divulge their secrets, not even to their kin in the Iron Hills,” he stands up. King Under the Mountain or not, he has a nerve! You grind your teeth and rise from your chair as well.

“Every secret has its price,” you try once more, reminding him of an old dwarven saying.

“Are you suggesting, Lady Ragna, that my Forge Masters are for sale?” He rumbles at you in that deep voice of his. How dare he speak such things?! And how dare he make your knees weak with every word he speaks? His voice makes you think of wild honey, malt beer, and a stormy sky at midnight. In moments like these, you are glad that he calls you by the official name you chose for yourself when you came of age, a widespread dwarven custom. You keep your real name secret; only a handful of dwarves know it. According to a legend, disclosing your true name to another Dwarf binds them to you for life, but also grants them power over you.

You take a few steps towards him, your hands clenched into fists. No way in seven hells of Morgoth you'd show your weakness to Thorin, son of Thrain.

“I am proposing a trade deal! Erebor needs our iron and we need those long-range crossbows against the orc raids!” you throw your hands in the air, gesticulating forcibly to stress the importance of your words.

“The only deal Erebor is prepared to enter into with the Iron Hills at this point is as follows: our gold for your iron, the customary trade exchange,” he bares his teeth as he speaks, their white, even rows contrasting with his dark, lush beard, reminding you of a feral beast. And now he glares at you too. Perfect.

“But this is the exact same deal we have been renewing every year for the last five years!” you protest loudly.

“Indeed,” he articulates this word slowly and crosses his arms against his chest. There is a mysterious glint in his eye as he looks at you, but you don’t care at this point. You want to smack him in the face and wipe off that haughty smirk from his lips.

“The times have changed. We need weapons, not gold!” you protest. He clearly does not understand a thing!

“You may take it or leave it. Your choice, Lady Ragna,” he looks at you pointedly, makes a short bow, and leaves the council room. This is when you realize that the negotiations are over. Bloody, cantankerous, stubborn, too handsome for his own good king of all seven Dwarven Kingdoms!

* * *

One month later

Your second meeting with that irritating mountain goat also known as the King Under The Mountain happens in slightly different circumstances. 

“Welcome to the Iron Hills, your majesty,” you make an elaborate bow, cursing the uncomfortable, heavy, jewel-encrusted bodice of your ceremonial gown. Yes, it is supposed to flaunt the wealth of Iron Hills at this particular spectator. Its cut is rather low, uncovering your shapely neck and some strategic parts of your two voluptuous assets, as you call them (it’s all about business with the Dwarves, isn’t it?), but there is a perfectly practical reason behind your choice of wardrobe. It has absolutely nothing to do with those deep ice-blue eyes of the king. Nothing whatsoever. You simply have a new strategy against this difficult mountain goat.

“Lady Ragna, what a surprise,” king Thorin of Erebor responds with a bow, his voice even lower and more enticing than you remembered. A piece of sinfully sweet caramel covered in dark chocolate comes to your mind.

He wears black royal robes embroidered with gold, and a fur-lined cloak hangs from his shoulders. His broad shoulders of a warrior. The legendary Raven Crown rests on his temples, obsidian against gold, a symbol of his power. What business does he have looking like this? Why can’t he be elderly, toothless, bold, with a humped back or a much too large beer belly? Who allowed him to have this majestic profile, wavy dark hair with several noble silver strands among them? And what about his patrician nose, of all things? Didn’t he get the memo about what Dwarf-women say about men with prominent noses like his? Outrageous.

There is that glint in his eye you recognize from your visit to Erebor and his gaze discreetly slides over your body. It takes less than a heartbeat, but you notice it clearly. Ha! Your strategy seems to already bear fruit. He’s not the first Dwarf to look at you this way, as if you were a succulent smoked ham, ready to eat. Dwarf-men tend to think with their stomachs. And with that one other interesting body part as well. You are glad to see that the King of Longbeards is no different.

“I hope your journey was untroubled,” you recite the customary niceties. 

“The highroad was dry and we were spared the rain,” he clasps his hands behind his back. You are trying to ignore the protruding outline of his pectoral muscles. You are also trying not to think that under his bespoke tunic, there might be a well-honed chest of a warrior.

“May I ask where my cousin is?” he looks around searchingly.

“Lord Dain sends you his regrets, your majesty, but important defense matters delayed his return,” you explain with an unfazed expression on your face. You don’t want to spoil the surprise. 

“What important defense matters?” he sets his piercing gaze on you.

“There were Orc sightings by our southern border.”

King Thorin Oakenshield gives out a short laugh. Confound him! Why does even his laughter have to be so alluring? 

“Ah, that’s Dain! He would never miss an opportunity to fight!” he smirks. “Is he not to be the one leading the negotiations on behalf of Iron Hills?” 

“You will be provided with the negotiator he appointed, your majesty,” you explain graciously. Just a moment longer.

“And who is he, my lady?” King Under the Mountain tilts his head slightly.

“She,” you correct him with a small smirk of triumph. “It is me, your majesty.”

You are still cherishing the expression that crept up on His Majesty Thorin Oakenshield’s face when he heard your words. You keep recalling it over and over as you sit behind a very impressive and completely soulless mahogany table. The possibility of a trilateral treaty with Mirkwood is to be discussed, but first Erebor and Iron Hills have to work out a mutually beneficial approach before the diplomatic talks with the Elves can begin. Or, as Dain affectionately calls King Thranduil’s subjects, ‘those damned tree shaggers’.

After hours of unproductive negotiations between two groups of very talkative and very boring advisors, your mind starts to wander and your gaze rests on someone’s strong, slightly tanned hand. A quill scratches against the parchment, held in thick but surprisingly nimble ringed fingers. You admire the elegant letters that appear on the page, gladly ignoring the exhausting droning of Master Stenfast, Lord Dain’s Mining Advisor about the yearly ore extraction. 

The letters on the parchment slowly transform into refined geometrical shapes and artistically cut gems. After a while, you realize it’s a pommel and a grip, parts of a sword design. At that moment, the advisor finishes his lengthy tirade. You thank him with a nod, and then it’s time for Erebor’s Mining Advisor to recite the numbers. As his endless litany, your eyes return to the parchment only to see a large blotch of ink in the middle of the page. The quill snaps in half under the strong fingers of the artist as if it was a straw and then you recognize one of the signet rings adorning his hand. The royal seal of Erebor. For the last hour, you have been openly staring at the hands of Thorin, son of Thráin, son of Thrór, King Under the Mountain. Damn. You raise your gaze to his face and notice the furrowed brow, the determined set of his jaw, and the stormy look in his eyes. There is that regal glare again. Damn, damn, damn. If only he were not so disconcertingly handsome. 

Quickly you avert the gaze and look around, noticing the glossy, blank stares of several Dwarves as well as Master Hrothgar’s quiet snoring in the corner of the chamber. That’s it. You order a break for the day and decide to reconvene tomorrow.

* * *

You are sitting on a stone railing of a terrace carved in the face of the mountain, overlooking the valley below. Dangling your feet over the precipice, you can’t shake off the feeling of restlessness. For a while now, you have been stargazing, puffing on your pipe from time to time; it has always brought you peace after many a long day, but tonight it is different. You can’t stop thinking about that stormy gaze and the sparks glittering within, like stars floating on the endless sea of heaven. Damn that Dwarf. And his majestic hair, too.

“May I have a light?” a deep, rumbling voice reaches you in the darkness. Great. Isn’t it enough that he is tormenting your mind? Does he have to barge in and ruin your moment of peace?

“Your majesty…” you quickly put your pipe away.

“Please, do not stand up on my account, I have already received too many bows today,” a large silhouette approaches you slowly and soon Thorin Oakenshield stands beside you. You can see the outline of his face in the pale moonlight that softens his features.

“As you wish, your majesty,” you nod and reach to your belt, quickly procuring your flint striker. 

“Are the people of Iron Hills always so formal, Lady Ragna?” he moves closer to you with his meticulously carved red oak pipe in his hand.

“Only when showing respect to the King of the Longbeards. Our king,” your voice trails off when you see how his lips slowly wrap around the bit of his pipe. You swallow. He grunts, clearly displeased at your words. 

“Shall we?” he mutters through clenched teeth and moves his face towards yours. The smell of fresh pine needles, tobacco, and leather envelops you. Of course, why not, more torment for you. You hold your breath… and then you see that he’s looking expectantly at your hands.

“Of course, your majesty,” you raise your hands to the bowl of his pipe and start working with your flint striker.

“Thorin,” he says.

“Your majesty?” you freeze.

“We are alone. Away from the court. You may call me Thorin,” he takes out the pipe from his mouth for a moment.

“But… you are the King Under the Mountain!” you protest. What is he thinking? And why is he eyeing you this way? Is this some new trick of his?

“I won’t tell anyone if you won’t,” he grins, and suddenly he looks more like a mischievous young Dwarf than a seasoned King of Seven Dwarven Kingdoms. The sullen King Thorin Oakenshield. Grinning at you. Perhaps you packed your pipe with Old Toby instead of your regular Dale Leaf and now you’re hallucinating?

“Under one condition, your majesty.” “It is always trade and negotiations with you, Lady Ragna,” he chuckled. “Let us hear it, then.”

“You may call me Ragna,” you lift your chin proudly.

“Your wish is my command, Ragna,” he bows his head slightly, putting the bit into his mouth again. Is that a shadow of a smile hiding in the darkness of his beard? You are definitely hallucinating.

“I am honored, your m-- Thorin,” you correct yourself politely. Vigilance. Yes, you have to be vigilant. Maybe he is trying to soften you up to gain the upper hand in the negotiations tomorrow. But what about that lingering smile? In order to hide your confusion, you return to your efforts of lighting his pipe. Damn your hands, why are they shaking? It’s not that cold! Several sparks fly in the air, but a stray gust of wind blows them off. 

The King’s…, no, Thorin’s face moves closer towards you, his broad torso shielding you both from the wind. A stray lock of his hair brushes against your cheek (why is it so soft?!), and if you wanted to (not that you do!), you could have easily pressed your forehead against his in an intimate gesture (but you’re not that easy, oh no! It’s not even on your mind, not at all!).

He holds his pipe firmly in his hand; a few more sparks fly and soon small wisps of smoke begin their unhurried pilgrimage towards the sky. The wind picks up and your hand moves swiftly to shield the pipe, brushing against the incredibly warm skin of his palm. A surprisingly pleasant tingling sensation runs all the way from your fingers to your spine. Why are you trembling now, woman?!

“Are you cold, Ragna?” Thorin asks hoarsely. The way he speaks your name, with a slight growl, may or may not make you… feel some things. Before you start pondering it, his large palm covers the back of your hand. His skin is slightly coarse and calloused, probably from long years of battle training, but his touch is careful, almost delicate. Your eyes meet above the pipe, its glow shedding a golden gleam on his face, lighting mysterious fires in his eyes.

You shake your head and quickly move your hand away, “The only place I’m cold at is the negotiation table. You will see it tomorrow.”

“And until then?” golden flames dance in his eyes. The sweet smell of his tobacco surrounds you.

You place your hand above your breasts, the same hand that touched his moments ago. His eyes follow your gesture, and you say, “Until then I’m going to be hot as a furnace. I bid you goodnight, Thorin.”

Your feet land on the stone floor of the terrace, you gather your skirts, make a mandatory bow and then you return into the mountain as graciously as you can. Only when you are out of his sight and a few corridors away, do you stop and rest your back against a cold stone wall, exhaling loudly.

That sly, arrogant, overconfident goat herder of a king! How dare he make your heart beat faster?!

* * *

You can read the other parts here: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 ...

So, how do you like it so far? Would you like to read more?

Read it? Like it? Reblog it!

Taglist: @fizzyxcustard @shrimpsthings @dark-angel-is-back @sherala007 @amelia307 @jotink78​​

276 notes • Posted 2021-02-04 22:57:19 GMT

#2

Dragon sickness by ladynlmda

276 notes • Posted 2021-04-15 12:30:28 GMT

#1

Lost My Way

This is my reply to @guardianofrivendell‘s ask. Thank you so much and enjoy! 💙

Relationships: Fili x Reader

Rating: M (to be on the safe side)

Warnings: none

You closed your eyes with a sigh, enjoying the warm, lingering caresses of the late afternoon sun on your face. The grass beneath you was as soft as a goose down mattress and the smell of blooming spring flowers filled the ear. The birds chirped lazily, hidden among the tree branches, and a busy bee buzzed nearby, feasting on the blue cornflowers. You loved days like these, peace, quiet, no chores to think of, just enjoying the beauty of the world around you in silence.

That was when you heard a  horse neighing. You quickly sat up and opened your eyes. No, it wasn’t a horse – it was a chestnut pony, and it had a rider. And what a rider it was... Oh, my! A wild mane of golden hair, the braids in his hair and beard clasped with beads glittering in the sun, a small smile dancing on his lips as he gazed at you, making a small bow with his head. Oh, Valar! Just look at those eyes! Bright and blue like the cornflowers. One glance at you was enough for you to feel like a hungry bee, drawn towards that sweet goodness. Yes, those certainly were the eyes of a good man. But there was something else in that glance, a mysterious glint. Before you could decipher it, the rider jumped off his pony and led it towards you. 

As he approached you, it became obvious that was a warrior, and a very good one, judging from the amount of impressive weapons on his back, at his belt and by his saddle. He certainly wasn’t one of those healthily rotund Hobbit farmers who lived nearby. His body was honed by endless hours of training and, most probably, battles – judging by that small cut that ran straight through one of his eyebrows and a tear or two in his fur-lined tunic, revealing a chainmail underneath. Those deliciously broad shoulders and the movements that made you think of a prowling panther told you the rest of the story: he came out victorious from this fight, whoever the enemy was. You have never seen a Dwarf warrior before, they weren’t a common sight in these parts, but he looked exactly like you imagined one should look like. I wonder if the legends are true and if they are really made of stone?

“Good afternoon!” he greeted you, stepping towards you, and you stifled a sigh at the sound of his voice. Oh, how wonderfully it would be to wake up to this voice murmuring sweet nothings in your ear, his hot breath fanning your delicate skin. Focus! You needed to focus! Behave! Answer him before he thinks you’re slow or something!

You stood up quickly, straightened your dress and said, “Good afternoon, Master Dwarf! What brings you here?”

You fought the urge to lift your hand to your hair and make sure your tresses are safely tucked away. It wouldn’t do if such a fine specimen of a Dwarf thought that all the daughters of Men have messy hairdos, but a part of you whispered: what if he thinks that you fancy him? A blush spilled on your cheeks. Drat! The last thing you wanted was to make him think you’re one of those easily impressionable young ladies who can’t stop giggling at the sight of a handsome man, be it Dwarf, Elf, Hobbit or one of the Men.

“My name is Fili, son of Vili, at your service, my lady,” he bowed his head in polite reverence. “I’m sorry to disturb your rest, but would you be so kind and point me towards the trail to Shire? I think I’ve lost my way,” he admitted with a dazzling smile. His azure eyes flickered again. Don’t. Stare. At. Him. Just. Don’t. Remember. To. Breathe.

“It is nice to meet you, Master Fili,” you cleared your throat and introduced yourself as well. “I’m afraid you’re quite away from Shire. It will take you half a day’s ride to reach the trail.” The dwarven warrior cast a look at the sun that hovered low above the rolling green hills on the horizon.

“I see. And how many days until I reach Hobbiton?”

“Three and a half, maybe less, if your pony is swift,” you gestured in the direction he should take.

“Aye, he is. Beetroot is a fine companion and wouldn’t say no to some galloping,” he patted the side of his pony’s neck with his gloved hand. You wondered what his hands looked like. Strong? Long-fingered? Calloused? Wide and muscular? How would it feel if he were to cup your face with those warrior’s hands of his and… Drat! Stop it! Focus! He’s talking to you! 

“Would you happen to know a place where I and my faithful steed can spend the night? I don’t want to miss the trail after sunset,” he turned his gaze back to you.

“Let me think, Farmer Brown had a spare room or two, I believe,” you pondered, frantically trying not to think about that very cozy and very empty room in your own home and a large pot of stew you prepared earlier that day. How would it look like if a single lady like you invited a man, and a Dwarf at that, into her house for the night? What would the other villagers say? They wouldn’t ever stop gossiping about you two and the things that could have happened between you! Drat! Stop blushing, woman! Look at his smirk, now he’ll really think you fancy him!

“Even a barn will do, Beetroot and I are not picky,” the cornflower-eyed Dwarf of your dreams replied. Wait! What dreams? Well, you haven’t had any dreams of him yet, but now you’re sure he’ll be a frequent visitor in them. The way his lush mane fell on his shoulders made you want to run your fingers through it. You wondered how his hair would spill on that pillow with the flower pattern in your bed. He would lay on his side, taking in the beauty of your face with a soft smile, in the afterglow of your lovem--- What??? Seriously? Can’t you think of anything else? Snap out of it! Deep breaths, yes, that’s it, and think of washing the dishes or cleaning the chicken coop instead. Ignore that flip your heart just made when he adorably wrinkled his nose as a bee tried to land on it.

“Follow me, then, Master Dwarf. The village I live in is just behind that hill,” you started marching towards your destination. As he joined you, walking in a springy step, you tried to ignore the fact how tall he was for a Dwarf and how sturdily built he was. His presence made you feel small and fragile, but not in a threatening manner; he seemed to emanate an air of safety and comfort.

Unfortunately, when you arrived at the village, it turned out that Farmer Brown’s relatives decided to pay him an unexpected visit. That meant no free rooms. Your hamlet was too small to have its own inn, and you didn’t have any other Dwarf-friendly neighbours, so the inevitable had to happen. What a coincidence. Who would have thought.

“It seems like me and Beetroot are going to spend a lovely night under the stars,” Fili spoke as you were leaving Farmer Brown’s house.

“I… I have a guest room at my home. It’s not too big, mind you, but it’s clean!” you blurted out, suddenly discovering that the tips of your shoes were a very interesting thing to look at.

“Would you offer me, an unknown Dwarf, a place under your roof?” his eyes widened in surprise. “Would your family not mind?”

“I live with my auntie, but she’s away now, traveling,” you admitted quietly. It was certainly not the time to tell him how you suddenly appeared in Middle Earth on a stormy night, torn out of your world, and how a kind widow from the village took you in and told you to call her ‘auntie’. It took you a while to gain the acceptance of the villagers, but after some time, they warmed up to you. As much as you were fond of your new auntie, you still haven’t truly felt at home here. Some days, the insistent feeling of being lost in an unknown land was quite difficult to shake off. 

“Will your neighbours not mind? I visited enough of the villages of Men to know that a Dwarf staying overnight with a lovely maiden like you is frowned upon,” the Dwarf named Fili furrowed his brow.

You gritted your teeth, forgetting about the manners of this world for a moment.

“Those nosy farmers can go and fu--, I meant to say, can go and get stuffed,” you cursed inwardly. You haven’t missed much from your old world but the ability to curse like a sailor was one of those little exceptions. “It seems to me that you’ve been in a fight, Master Dwarf, and you deserve a night of proper rest.”

Fili stifled a chuckle, “A fair maiden who can make a good use of her mouth?” You betcha. Drat! Not thinking about your mouth! His mouth! Any mouth whatsoever!

“If you were a dwarven lady, you would have at least a dozen suitors queueing at your door,” he continued. You decided not to blush. Not to wonder if he would be among them. Knowing your luck, this gorgeous specimen of dwarfhood probably had a wife and a couple of babies already.

“I’ve never met a Dwarf before today, but if your men are as boorish as some of the farmers of Men I know, I’ll be happy to spend my life in solitude,” you stopped in front of your house, wondering if that was going to be your lot in your life here.

“Then I’ll make an effort to show you how courteous a Dwarf can be,” he made an elaborate bow that belonged to a king’s court and certainly not to a shabby village in the middle of nowhere.

“You can start by cleaning your shoes,” you pointed at his muddy boots with a small smirk. “And I’ll take Master Beetroot to the stable. Then we’ll have supper.”

“Your wish is my command, my lady,” Fili grinned cheekily and took another of his bows. You couldn’t stifle a giggle this time.

Fili, son of Vili, turned out to be a very well-mannered and thoughtful guest. You spent a great time sharing the meal, he told you several amusing stories of his travels and you shared some anecdotes from your life in the village. After the supper was finished, he helped you do the dishes and entertained you with his frolics that involved juggling the mugs, catching swirling plates mid-air and throwing your large kitchen knife so that he landed right in the middle of your cutting board. If you hadn't known any better, you’d think he was trying to impress you. You pretended not to notice several glances he stole when he thought you weren’t looking, or the way his eyes hungrily followed the movements of your fingers when you were rebraiding your hair while sitting on your porch after supper, enjoying a pleasantly warm spring evening. 

“Do you see those seven stars, over there?” Fili pointed with his pipe at the sky. The air smelled with the blooming thyme and the sweet tobacco smoke.

“Yes. I often wondered what they were called, but no one here could tell me.”

“We call it ‘Durin’s Crown’. It is a symbol of the kings of my people,” his words were quiet, measured. “The Dwarves born under these stars are believed to accomplish great things in their lives…” his voice trailed off.

“I heard quite a bit about the brave warriors and kings of your people,” you offered, interrupting the silence.

“Aye, there are still warriors among us. Me and my brother were trained well by my uncles. Thanks to them, I can sit here in such a lovely company,” he winked. “You flatter me, Master Fili,” you opposed.

“I do not! On the way here, I encountered an Orc ambush.” “Orcs? Here? We have to alarm the elders!” you rose to your feet.

“Do not worry, my lady. They have been dealt with,” he placed his hand on your forearm in an attempt to appease you. His skin was scorching hot against yours. “Your village is safe.” 

You let out a sigh of relief and sat down slowly, observing his hand. His palm was wide, its back lightly dusted with golden hair, and you could see the strength slumbering beneath his skin. His nails were clean and well-maintained, and he wore a golden signet ring. And then his fingers... They were thicker than you imagined, but something told you that they had to be very nimble. Oooh. Take your head out of the gutter at once, woman! He’s just making a friendly gesture! 

You didn’t register the moment when your palm covered his. Well, this is MY friendly gesture! 

“Thank you on behalf of everyone living here. There are only farmer families here, we wouldn’t stand a chance against a band of orcs,” you lifted your gaze to meet his only to catch that mysterious sparkle in his eyes again. One heartbeat, two heartbeats, three heartbeats… were you drowning in his eyes or was it the other way around?

“Think nothing of it,” he finally shook his head with a sheepish smile and you thought you noticed a cute dimple hiding in his beard.

This time a sigh of disappointment left your lips as he removed his hand from your skin, placing it over his knee. Was that a trick of light from the lantern or were his cheeks slightly flushed under his golden beard? 

A few moments passed in total silence and you couldn’t tear off your eyes from Fili’s handsome profile as he puffed on his pipe, the blue wisps of smoke traveling all the way to the Seven Stars on the black velvet fabric of the sky above you.

“I’m on my way to meet my brother, and some of my kin,” he finally said. “There is a matter we need to attend to, far away from here, over the Misty Mountains.”

“When will you be coming back?” you heard yourself say. Stupid, stupid, utterly stupid! Have you just hinted at wanting to see him again?! Valar have mercy on you!

“I’m not sure,” he spoke hesitantly, avoiding your gaze. “It might be a while.”

You nodded, wishing for the ground to part beneath your feet. What else did you expect?!

 “There is a chance I may lose my way again when I’m travelling back to Ered Luin,” a small smile tugged at his lips, and there was a mischievous sparke in his eyes.

“Well, if you do, there is a chance you’ll find a friendly house here and a place to stay the night,” your face brightened and you wanted to pinch yourself. There was a chance you were dreaming, after all. Ouch! No, this was definitely not a dream!

“A friendly house and a pleasant company,” he murmured, and his face hovered somewhat closer to yours. He was so close you could count golden hairs in his beard. You wondered how it would feel if you touched it. And would his sensually curved lips feel as soft as they looked? You licked your lower lip. 

“What else a Dwarf could want…?” Fili added in a coarse whisper and you can read the answer to his question in his eyes. Oh Valar, those cornflower eyes of his, his tempting lips! Where is a bucket of cold water when you need one?!

“You tell me, Master Fili,” you replied as his gaze slid over your mouth and your heart skipped a beat as his face moved even closer. A bit more and you could brush your nose against his. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, waiting for the moment when your lips would finally meet.

His voice made you open your eyes in surprise.

“Forgive me my rude behavior, my lady,” he suddenly stood up, his cheeks visibly flushed. “I’m tired and your pleasant company quickly goes to the head of a humble traveling Dwarf like me,” he avoided your gaze. “You are a wonderful hostess and I wouldn’t dream of imposing on your hospitality. I bid you goodnight.”

With these words, he hurriedly disappeared inside of your house.

You sat outside for a long while after he removed himself from your presence; the Seven Stars of Durin’s crown being your only companion. They seemed to blink at you soothingly. You wondered what they would tell you if they could speak.

The breakfast passed quickly, and quietly. You couldn’t help but notice a certain nervousness in Fili’s movements, his frown, his gaze set firmly on his plate. Shadows under his eyes confirmed that he spent the night the same way as you did, tossing and turning in his bed.

“May the trails ahead be straight and wide,” you said a customary farewell as he led out his pony from your stable. Beetroot greeted you with a neigh. “Here, it’s cheese and bread, enough for a meal or two on the road,” you gave him a bundle.

“Thank you, my lady,” he nodded and accepted your gift. “It is more than I could hope for. May I offer you something in return?”

“What could that be?” He moved his hand into his hair. Something clicked, and then you saw it. There was a beautifully ornamented golden bead in his outstretched palm, “Something to remember me by.”

“But… this is gold… I can’t accept this!” you opposed.

“This is the customary Dwarven way to show our…,” he cleared his throat, “... our appreciation. It would make me a happy Dwarf to know that you keep it as a token of… as a memory of our fortunate meeting.”

“Well, if you put it this way, then I’ll be happy to keep it… to honor your tradition,” wide-eyed, you took the bead and traced the beautiful runes on its surface with your fingers.

And then you heard his alluring murmur, the words intended for your ears only.

“When I tell my brother I have found the most beautiful wildflower in Eriador of all places, he won’t believe me!” he took your hand into his, slowly closed it over the bead and covered with his other palm. His calloused thumb brushed against your soft skin. The warmth he gave out made you melt inside.

Before you could reply, his forehead pressed against yours, your fingers still intertwined, and he whispered, 

“My lady… may I kiss you?”

You didn’t respond; not in words at least. Instead, you tilted your head slightly and brushed your lips against his. Yes, they were as soft as you imagined, and impossibly tender. He returned the caress, pressing his lips against yours, and then sealing them with a myriad of gentle butterfly kisses. You sighed softly, drifting away on the sea of bliss.

“May I have the honor…,” he whispered against your skin, breathing heavily, his heart pounding in his chest, “May I hope that you will wait for me?”

“Yes, Fili. I will wait.”

***

You closed your eyes with a sigh, enjoying the warm, lingering caresses of the late afternoon sun on your face. Almost a year has passed since you last saw Fili. The Dwarf who stole your heart. Many days and nights you spent wondering about what he was doing, worrying about his safety, until one day, a raven came with a letter addressed to you and your world has changed forever.

Today was going to be the first day of your new life. Fili was about to return and hear your answer to his question. In his letter, he asked whether you would consider spending your life with him in a dwarven kingdom of Erebor. His letter started with the words: “My One…”

You knew what your reply was going to be. You were not lost any longer.

- - -

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Taglist: @fizzyxcustard​ @shrimpsthings @dark-angel-is-back @sherala007​ @amelia307​ @anyaspidergirl-blog

279 notes • Posted 2021-01-31 17:22:29 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[sailorsolar12]

Prompt List 2

EEK! I have 249 followers. That may not be a lot, but to me that is an achievement. I am giving you guys a prompt list. Since I have 249 followers, I’ll do a max of 150 prompts. Send me requests guys. Pleeeeeeeeeease. Thank you. P.S. If you wanna reblog this for your own imagines or to have some of your own followers shoot me requests, go right ahead my lovelies. P.P.S. Let me know if you’d like the work in second POV or third POV. The first 51 prompts are the same as before the next 99 are new. Hope you like it.

Word of warning there will be cursing, mature themes, etc...

1) “I’m sorry……what?!”

2) “Love? Please. Love is overrated.”

3) “What. Did. You. Do?”

4) “I never excepted that to happen….”

5) “Please….You’re not Batman.”

6) “I’d happily bend you over right now if you’d like?”

7) “We’re not killing anyone!”

8) “The world doesn’t revolve around you!”

9) “I’m surrounded by idiots.”

10) “Why did it have to be you? Why?”

11) “Excuse you? I didn’t ask for your opinion.”

12) “Just shut your mouth and kiss me damn it!”

13) “Bitch, I’m adorable.”

14) “You’re sexually frustrated? How do you think I feel?”

15) “Screw you and your beautiful face!”

16) “The more you workout shirtless, the more you test my patience.”

17) “It’s not like I’ve loved you since we were kids or anything.”

18) “Do you have any idea what you’ve just done?”

19) “Why do you care if I kissed them or not?”

20) “Don’t tell me that you’re in love with him/her?”

21) “Why should I believe anything that you say?”

22) “When have you ever told the truth about anything? Especially yourself?”

23) “Was anything that happened between us even real?”

24) “Who are you, and what have you done with _____?”

25) “Let me in! Or so help me I will break down this door!”

26) “You can’t just kiss me and run away.”

27) “You are avoiding me. Is it because I kissed _____?”

28) “Who are you to judge my actions?”

29) “What? You have a secret fantasy of us having shower sex or something?”

30) “Are you finished…..because I’m bored and don’t want to be here.”

31) “Please tell me you aren’t saying you’re in love with me.”

32) “You have lost your mind if you think I am going to wear that outfit.”

33) “You are crazy if you believe that I agree with you.”

34) “You have consumed my thoughts. I can’t walk away from this.”

35) “This….is so awkward. I’m out.”

36) “You seem to think that I give a damn, but I don’t.”

37) “You stand there rolling your eyes and brushing me off, but I love you damnit.”

38) “Don’t make me choose between you and the coffee because I’m obviously going to choose the coffee.”

39) “It is ___ in the morning talk to me AFTER I have my coffee.”

40) “I hate to break it to you, but coffee is my one true love.”

41) “Can you not? I’m trying to concentrate here.”

42) “If you interrupt me while I am reading one more time…..”

43) “Give me one good reason why I should even sleep with you.”

44) “I highly doubt your sexual fantasies compare to mine.”

45) “Why can’t the universe just agree with me for once?!”

46) “No matter how many times that you apologize, I can’t forgive you for what you did.”

47) “Doubting you is what I do best, sweetheart.”

48) “If you walk out of that door, I will drag your ass back here kicking and screaming.”

49) “Betrayal isn’t something that I take lightly……”

50) “I have friends whom I consider family who are more loyal than you.”

51) “Me? Using sarcasm? Never in a million years.”

52) “I got two bottles of tequila. Who is getting drunk with me tonight?”

53) “Bitch please!”

54) “The universe just loves to prove me wrong, doesn’t it?”

55) “Water? You gave me water?! I don’t need water!”

56) “I’m only here so I have an alibi.”

57) “This is why we can’t have nice things!!”

58) “Even if you think you can knock me down, I’ll just get back up.”

59) “If I have the ability to make it gay, then I am going to make it gay!”

60) “You think I am here for you? Don’t flatter yourself, pet.”

61) “I am here for myself; you’re just the entertainment.”

62) “Never ever speak to me again...do you understand me?!”

63) “How could you think that for even one second I would betray you?”

64) “I never thought I would say this, but he/(she) does have a point.”

65) “You really think that this is easy don’t you?”

66) “I only slightly regret my life choices.”

67) “You were gone for two years! No warning...no location! Just random postcards every so often, and THAT is all you have to say to me??!!”

68) “My apologies, but I am afraid I cannot do that.”

69) “Don’t worry....she/(he) will be released after she/(he) answers some of my questions.”

70) “Sometimes even in the dark, we can see perfectly what is happening.”

71) “Must you always be this brutal to everyone?”

72) “How bad was last night? I only remember bringing out the tequila...”

73) “Why do you seem to be at the center of every disaster?”

74) “Looks like I’m not the only one making terrible decisions. Welcome to the club.”

75) “I honestly had no idea what to do with myself before you came into my life.”

76) “Hurry! Shut the door before they get the idea they are welcome here!”

77) “Let me cling to hope for a little longer, please.”

78) “Don’t you dare get mad at me for speaking the truth! I am right, and you should hear it!”

79) “It appears...we aren’t so different after all.”

80) “Yes, we are. And the difference is that you don’t care when a plan fails. Even if you die for it.

81) “Who would have thought that I would see the day when you have to save me for a change?”

82) “What was it like while you were gone....without me?”

83) “Life hates everyone, but some of us make the most out of it while the others give into despair.”

84) “Don’t do this! Please! I am begging you not to!”

85) “Nothing is the same anymore....Everything changed the day you died.”

86) “Oh...so I killed you and yet here you are standing there mocking me...”

87) “You-you’re comparing me to her/(him)!”

88) “People die every damn day...why are you so hell bent on saving me?”

89) “You didn’t even read it did you?”

90) “Why can’t you do something right for just one minute?”

91) “You are not my mother/(father)....______ is!”

92) “Sometimes hope is all we have to hang onto.”

93) “I don’t think I can be alone with my thoughts right now.”

94) “I would gladly give my life....if it meant you could raise her/(him) normally.”

95) “Words only mean so much after the amount of horror I have been through.”

96) “You always smile like you’re about to cry.”

97) “Text me when you don’t have an attitude.”

98) “Be honest....how long has it been since you last slept?”

99) “Don’t be alarm...I’m just at the hospital.”

100) “Who the hell said I wanted to be your friend in the first place?”

101) “Do you want to explain to me why you’re in the dumpster, or should I just guess?”

102) “Kiss me or kill me, but make up your mind right now.”

103) “You’re not the person I thought you were.”

104) “No! I am not the person YOU wanted me to be.”

105) “Tea is the only reason I’m sane, but coffee is the only reason I’m awake.”

106) “My favorite line was when you told me that you love me.”

107) “I’m going to break your arm just like how you broke my heart.”

108) “How about this...we get to know each other before one of us says something stupid.”

109) “In her hand....EVERYTHING seems to become a weapon of sorts.”

110) “So....from the bottom of my cold...dead heart....Fuck. You.”

111) “I like me coffee as black and as bitter as my soul.”

112) “They are...once again...failing oh so beautifully.”

113) “Chocolate is something that you cannot tear away from my hands once I hold it.”

114) “So now you have a tattoo that wasn’t there yesterday?”

115) “One last kiss before we die?”

116) “You can get the kiss when we survive so move.”

117) “You can’t start stories with ‘When I died...’”

118) “You know car chases look way more fun on TV!”

119) “Somehow everyone stays alive....in the end.”

120) “I could easily ruin you.”

121) “Oh, I know.”

122) “I have never been happy at 4 am.”

123) “Having the same enemy doesn’t make us friends...FYI.”

124) “Who said anything about magic...this is pure science.”

125) “We need really cool code names!”

126) “We don’t need cool code names to pull this off.”

127) “Why do you ALWAYS insist on having a code name!!”

128) “What doesn’t kill you makes you far too reckless.”

129) “Who said I agreed to this so called truce?”

130) “You will be the death of me...just like I will be the death of you.”

131) ”It’s not like everything is going to go to hell on a Tuesday!”

132) “You’re not stupid. You’re simply uneducated.”

133) “I really wanna fight someone right now...”

134) “Why do you feel the need to solve everything with your damn fists.”

135) “I’d love to just mess up that perfect jawline of yours.”

136) “He/(She) is becoming awfully good at being judge, jury, and executioner.”

137) “We can’t go back. There’s nothing left for us there.”

138) “More often than not the past has to teach us a lesson in the present before we can go into the future.”

139) “These stains are impossible to hide and hard to explain.”

140) “Why would I accept your apology? You’ve never been sorry in your life.”

141) “We will become legends...one way or another.”

142) “Go on. I won’t stop you.”

143) “Stopping you is all I have left in life.”

144) “There’s nothing time can’t kill.”

145) “We don’t have much time....we have to stick this out.”

146) “I just want you to know I am so glad I met you.”

147) “It was both a daydream and a nightmare, but it depends on who you ask.”

148) “Aren’t you supposed to be in prison?”

149) “I have no idea what’s going on, but I love it.”

150) “Don’t look at me! It wasn’t MY fault.”

——————

And there it is. I hope that you guys like the prompt list and will send me requests. Thank you all for following me. Have a nice day, or night, or wherever you guys are! Remember that if there is a fandom that you like and it isn’t listed in the tags below....please reach out to me.

[pentakillmaven]

The Nose Knows, Chapter 2 (NaNoWriMo 2018)

I was able to finish the chapter earlier than I expected! Enjoy!

Chapter Rating: T

Chapter warnings: Canon-typical violence, mild language, more gratuitous usage of French language and the French education system. Mild spoilers for the the season 2 episode “Troublemaker.”

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12

Chapter 2

Monday dawned bright and early, as it was wont to do; the halls and classrooms of Lycée Jean-Baptiste Magnier were buzzing with activity. Some students feverishly scribbled the last bits of their weekend assignments, while others caught up with their friends after the weekend before making their way to their respective classrooms.

Marinette walked into her classroom, waving at Nathaniel and Mylène. "Good morning!" she said as she took her seat.

"Good morning, Marinette!" Mylène replied. "How was your Sunday?" Mylène and Ivan had been at the movies with the rest of the group on Saturday. The two had continued to date all through high school, and according to Mylène, they were looking at finding a university they could attend together.

"Ugh, crazy busy," Marinette replied. "I was working until nearly midnight on the Philosophy project for M. Leroux. I had a hard time staying awake; Aristotle is such a bore."

"Yeah, I had to do mine on Socrates, so I feel your pain. At least they're done, though, right?"

"Exactly. And this week should be easy since we have the practice tests for the Bac next week." Marinette sighed and leaned her head on her arms on top of her desk, closing her eyes in an attempt to catch one more wink of sleep before class started.

However, she quickly perked up when she heard a familiar male voice at the doorway. Lifting her head, she smiled when she saw her desk partner saying goodbye to his girlfriend with a quick peck before he stepped into the classroom. "Hey Marinette! Alya wanted me to give this to you." Nino approached their desk and handed Marinette a flash drive with a white and orange color scheme before taking his seat.

"Oh, this must be the notes I asked for! Thanks, Nino, I really appreciate you bringing them."

"No problem, dude!"

Nino, Nathaniel, and Mylène were the only students from her class at Françoise Dupont that had joined her in the Literature track at Lycée Jean-Baptiste Magnier. Thankfully, some of her other friends were in the school with her, just taking different classes. Adrien, Alya, and Ivan were in the Economics and Social Sciences track, while Alix and Rose were in the Science track. The rest of their group of friends had gone on to other high schools throughout the city--Chloé, for instance, was at a prestigious private school full of international students, where she got to rub elbows with the children of ambassadors and celebrities. Max had gone off to a feeder school for one of the most illustrious engineering universities in the country, planning to go into computer science, while Kim, Sabrina, and Juleka were at another local public school. Marc Anciel, Nathaniel's boyfriend, was also at Lycée Jean-Baptiste Magnier, but as he was a year behind them, he and Nathaniel didn't share any classes.

"So Marinette," Nathaniel asked from his seat behind the pig-tailed girl. "With the Bac practice tests next week, do you have any study plans this upcoming weekend? Rose and Alix are coming over on Saturday afternoon after class, you're welcome to come if you want."

"Thanks for the offer, Nathaniel, but I've already got study plans with Alya and Nino. We're making a full day of it at my place on Sunday. Right, Nino?"

Nino nodded in agreement. "Yep! I'm bringing the tunes, Alya's bringing the drinks, and you're providing the snacks. And if Adrien can get away from his dad, he said he'd like to come too, if that's okay."

"Oh, y-yeah, that's fine!" Marinette's voice broke a bit as she replied, a hint of a blush crossing her cheeks. Even after actively trying to get over Adrien by dating Juleka’s brother Luka (which made her realize that the two of them were definitely better suited as friends than in a relationship), she still had feelings for the blond. She might have outgrown the worst of her obsessive crush on the model, but now her feelings were deeper, especially as the two had finally been able to become real friends. Clearing her throat, she continued, "Of course Adrien is welcome to come. I can't imagine he's going to have any problems with the Bac, though, he's so smart."

Nino just shrugged. "I dunno, Marinette, he seemed pretty nervous about it when he asked me to ask you if he could come. He's probably more stressed out about it than he lets on, especially with how busy his schedule's been lately."

"That's fair. I know his dad has been pulling him out of school more recently for work. I'm just glad Alya shares classes with him so she's been able to help him keep up with his assignments and class notes."

"Don't I know it. It seems like every day the two of them are talking about school stuff and she's constantly giving him files. If I didn't know any better I'd think the two of them were planning something behind my back."

Before Marinette had a chance to reply, the History teacher stepped in to start class. Despite her best efforts to force herself to pay attention, Marinette found herself leaning her head on one hand, the other doodling idly in the corner of her paper as her mind wandered. It had been a while since Adrien had been to her house-- she actually couldn't think of any time since collège, when he came over to practice playing Ultimate Mecha Strike III for the video game tournament. (Though he did see her bedroom during the whole Jagged Stone/Troublemaker incident, but that didn't count since he wasn't technically there for it.) When Alya came over to her place to hang out, they usually spent most of the time in her bedroom, but there wasn't exactly a lot of sitting space for four up there. And if they were going to have their books and study materials spread out, the dining room table or living room would make a lot more sense. However, being in a common area would mean more distractions from her mother--or, Lord forbid, her father, as nosy as he was--especially if Adrien did come to the study party. On the other hand, being downstairs would lead to far fewer questions about what they were getting up to, and would make them all more accountable to actually studying for the Bac rather than just goofing off…

A sudden elbow to her ribs caused Marinette to jump, looking around quickly. "Huh?"

"Mlle. Dupain-Cheng, did you hear me?" Marinette flushed as she realized her teacher had been speaking to her.

"I'm very sorry, Mme. Chevalier… could you repeat that?"

The History teacher pursed her lips together as she stood at the chalkboard, obviously displeased with Marinette's lack of attention. "If you aren't going to listen to me, you may step outside until the end of class. And no getting notes from any other students," she added with a glare in Nino's direction.

"I'll pay attention, Mme. Chevalier. Again, I am very sorry." Marinette couldn't feel any worse if she tried. She knew that it was a very important time for her to be on top of her studies, as the practice exams were coming up and the Baccalauréat was the one thing that could make or break her chances of getting into university to study fashion design.

"Very well then. Could you explain the reasoning behind Napoléon Bonaparte's decision to invade the Russian empire in 1812?"

"Bonaparte had two goals for the Russian campaign: firstly, his official reasoning for the invasion was that he wanted to liberate Poland from the Russians. Secondly, and perhaps more importantly, he wanted to force Tsar Nicholas I to stop trading with the British, which violated the Continental Blockade."

"That's correct." Mme. Chevalier continued on with her lesson on the Russian Campaign, but once again Marinette found she couldn't keep her attention on the teacher despite her best efforts. It came as a blessing when the class period ended without her being called upon again.

"Thank God for free periods," Marinette said as she and Nino left the classroom. "I'm going to go hunt down Alya before next period. You have fun in Music Theory!"

"Oh, yeah, sure," Nino deadpanned. "M. Berlioz has us doing oral presentations this week since the Bac practice tests are all written."

"Ouch. Well, good luck with it!"

"Thanks, Marinette. See you in Philosophy class!"

Marinette ducked into a nearby bathroom on her way to find Alya, waiting for the other girls to filter out before she was left alone as the next class period started. Once Marinette was sure she had the room to herself, she opened her purse to let Tikki out. "Tikki, did you hear what Nino said? Adrien wants to come over to my house on Sunday!"

"That's great, Marinette! I'm sure the four of you will have a lot of fun studying for your test!" Tikki smiled at her holder. "Just make sure you leave me some cookies!"

"Of course," Marinette said with a grin. "In fact, before they come over I'll make sure to bring some up to you, fresh out of the oven."

"Oh, Marinette, that's so nice of you to offer!" Tikki giggled.

Marinette opened her mouth to say something else when a sudden rumble shook the school. "An Akuma? But there hasn't been one in weeks…"

Tikki zipped into Marinette's purse. "You'd better go out and double check. You don't want to transform if it's nothing, but better to be safe than sorry."

Marinette nodded. "You're right." Closing her purse to hide her Kwami, Marinette pushed the door to her stall open, but before she could get out of the bathroom, another sudden shock wave rocked the school, knocking her off her feet and sending her careening head-first into a porcelain sink.

Hearing the thud, Tikki cried out, "Marinette? What happened?" When her holder didn't answer, Tikki phased through the purse. She gasped when she saw Marinette's lifeless body. "Oh no! Marinette, wake up!" She flew up to Marinette's head, checking for her pulse and looking for any signs of injury. There was a bump rapidly coming up on her forehead, but no blood, and her pulse was strong. Unfortunately, with Marinette being unconscious, there was no way for her to call on Tikki's power to transform.

Another rumble shook the school once again, this time accompanied by screams and a roar of pain and anger. Tikki partially phased through the bathroom door to peek outside, seeing a large, hulking form covered in what appeared to be gemstones. "I am Gemocide! Bring me Ladybug and Chat Noir, or I'll turn the whole school into crystals and crush them into dust!" the Akuma cried out.

Past the Akuma, on the other side of the school courtyard, a blonde and a brunette were sneaking away from their classroom, ducking underneath windows to avoid being spotted by anyone inside the other classes. "Come on, Alya, you know it's not safe!" Adrien hissed, following his best friend's headstrong girlfriend as she tried to get closer to the Akuma, cell phone in hand.

"Look, Adrien, you don't have to follow me if you don't want to. I'm going to get this scoop for the Ladyblog! This is the first Akuma we've had in weeks!" Alya gave Adrien her patented "just-try-to-stop-me" look as she crept closer to the courtyard.

Shaking his head, Adrien let Alya get a few steps ahead of him before he ducked down an empty hallway that led to a supply closet. He opened the closet door as quietly as possible in an effort not to catch Alya's attention. As soon as the door was shut behind him, Plagg zipped out of his shirt pocket. "It's about time! I was starting to get really bored," Plagg complained.

"Quit your belly-aching," Adrien muttered. "Plagg, claws out!"

Moments later, after a flash of green light, Chat Noir popped out of the supply closet, launching himself toward the main area of the school. However, before he could even get out of the hallway, he was stopped short by the sight of a tiny red creature with black spots floating in the air in front of him. He felt an odd sense of recognition when he saw the thing, the smell of warm cookies and sugary sweets filling his nostrils. It took him a moment to realize why it looked so familiar.

"You're Ladybug's Kwami, right? What are you doing here? Where is she?"

The tiny pixie-like creature nodded in confirmation. "Yes, my name is Tikki. Ladybug will be here shortly, but I found a student that needs help. She's in danger!"

"All right, I'm here. Lead the way!" Tikki flew back down the way she came, Chat loping along on all fours in an effort to keep up with the surprisingly speedy Kwami. When they came to the women's restroom, Chat stopped just outside the doorway. "Um, Tikki, I don't know if you know this, but I'm not allowed to go in there…"

"I think in this situation it's okay for a superhero to go into the girl's bathroom!" Tikki said, crossing her arms over her chest. "The girl in here is one of Ladybug's close friends and she needs your help!"

"All right! All right, I'm going." Adrien pushed the door open, his eyes darting around but mostly staying near the ceiling until he confirmed that there wasn't anyone screaming at him to get out. When he looked down, he gasped at the sight of Marinette lying unconscious on the floor, a nasty-looking goose egg bruising on her forehead. "Oh god! Marinette!"

"You know her?" Tikki asked curiously.

"Y-yeah, I've-- I mean, there was that incident with the Evillustrator a few years ago, and I've seen her a few times since then…" Chat was thankful that his mask hid his cheeks, otherwise he knew they would be as red as Tikki's skin. He was not going to admit to Ladybug's Kwami how often he stopped by Marinette's balcony just to check in on her. "What happened?"

"It looks like she hit her head while she was in here, probably from the initial tremors from the Akuma. You need to get her out of here before it destroys the whole school! It seems really angry about something here specifically."

"You're right about that. I heard what the Akuma said. It's not likely to leave here any time soon, so I can get Marinette to safety and then come back and keep it busy until Ladybug gets here."

Tikki nodded. "That sounds like a good plan. If Ladybug shows up while you're gone, I'll be sure to tell her where you are."

"Thanks. Her house isn't far from here, so I'm just going to take her straight there and come back." Tikki nodded again in confirmation. "Stand back-- or, well, float back, I guess?" Adrien gently picked up Marinette in his arms before carrying her toward the window. With a cry of "Cataclysm!" he melted the window, giving him a clear exit to get out of the school as quickly as possible. In his focus on getting Marinette out safely, he didn't notice Tikki phasing back through Marinette's purse, returning to her usual hiding spot.

Traveling by rooftop, it took Chat barely two minutes to make it to Tom & Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie. He landed smoothly on Marinette's balcony, tugging open the trapdoor, which was thankfully unlocked-- he didn't have another charge of his Cataclysm to open it if it had been barred from the inside. He shifted Marinette's body in his arms to get her inside, settling her down on her bed before gently tracing a clawed hand over her face. "I'm just trying to get a better look at her injury," he muttered, as if trying to convince himself that his motives for touching her were entirely pure and not at all driven by his crush.

"Mm… Ad...en..." Marinette let out a soft, pained moan, shifting slightly on the bed, making Chat jump in surprise. Did she just say my name? he thought to himself. His eyes darted around, as if expecting someone to be watching; thankfully, it seemed the coast was clear.

He hopped down out of the loft, digging around on her desk for a pen and paper. He found a piece of drawing paper and a green pen, tracing out a rather crude paw print shape to let Marinette know that he had been the one to bring her home. He climbed back up into the loft, tucking the paper into Marinette's hand, giving her one last quick check to make sure there wasn't anything more serious wrong with her. "You'll feel better once Ladybug's magic has done its work, Princess," he murmured to her. Biting his lip, he reached for her other hand to bring it to his lips… only to be reminded of his imminent de-transformation by an incessant beeping. "Shit." Chat reached up to pull himself out of the skylight, practically flying up onto the roof to release his transformation. "Plagg, claws in."

When Plagg had re-materialized in front of Adrien, he looked angry. "Where are we? Why aren't we fighting the Akuma?"

"Look, Ladybug's Kwami found me"--

"Tikki was at your school? Why wasn't she with Ladybug?"

"She said Ladybug was on her way, but Marinette was hurt, I couldn't just leave her lying in the bathroom unconscious!"

"So you abandoned the Akuma to save your girlfriend?" Plagg accused, crossing his arms in frustration

Adrien had the decency to blush at that. "She's not… Tikki asked me to save Marinette, okay? She told me that Marinette and Ladybug were close friends and that Ladybug would want me to make sure Marinette was safe."  

"That… okay, yeah, that sounds like something Tikki would say. She's always been a bleeding heart."

Adrien pulled a piece of Camembert out of his pocket, handing it to Plagg to recharge his power. "Just eat quick so we can go back to school and take care of that Akuma, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. Just tell me one thing, kid."

"What is it?"

"Did you feel her up?"

"Oh god-- Plagg, no!" Adrien's face practically went up in flames from his embarrassment. "She's unconscious! I wouldn't do that to her! It wouldn't be right!"

Plagg just gave Adrien a shit-eating grin before eating the piece of stinky cheese. Within moments, Adrien called out his transformation phrase again and Chat Noir was off toward Lycée Jean-Baptiste Magnier.

Down in Marinette's bedroom, the young woman slowly came to consciousness, groaning in pain as she realized her head was throbbing. "What… what hit me?" she mumbled, squinting and rubbing her forehead. She hissed at the tenderness of the goose egg just along her hairline.

"You fell and hit your head on a bathroom sink at school," Tikki explained, floating just inches from Marinette's face. "Luckily, Chat Noir showed up and he was able to bring you home. I made sure the skylight was unlocked so he could get you inside."

"Chat… Noir? He came into my room? Wait, he saw you? Did he"-- Tikki shushed Marinette before she could freak out too much.

"No, no, he doesn't know you're Ladybug. I told him that Ladybug was on her way and would be at the school soon, though, so he's going to be looking for you. We need to hurry."

"Tikki, I don't think I can fight in this condition. My head is killing me-- and if I passed out, what if I have a concussion?" Marinette lifted both of her hands to rub at her face, only to realize she was clutching a piece of paper in one hand. Looking down at it, she saw a green paw print along with a short note:

You're safe, Princess. Feel better!   --C.N.

Marinette flushed red and quickly tucked the piece of paper under her blanket. Nope, not thinking about that right now. She looked up, realizing Tikki was speaking to her, and flushed even more. "Sorry, Tikki, I didn't quite catch that, what did you say?"

"I said, when you transform, the magic will temporarily heal your head, so you will be able to fight. And then your Lucky Charm should do the job permanently, since the injury happened after Hawk Moth created the Akuma."

"Oh! Well, that's a relief. All right then, Tikki, spots on!" Tikki was sucked into Marinette's earrings as she transformed into Ladybug, dashing up onto her roof and swinging her way back to school.

When she dropped onto the roof of the lycée, Ladybug saw Chat Noir dodging blows from an absolutely massive, hulking figure coated with what appeared to be large chunks of raw diamond. As if drawn to Ladybug by some mysterious force, Chat looked up at her, his face breaking out in a wide grin. "There you are, Bugaboo! I was getting worried that you were going to stand me up!"

"I'm sorry, Chaton, I got a little tied up," Ladybug said with a grin, launching her yo-yo at the villain in an effort to restrain him. Rather than winding around him, however, the Akumatized villain grabbed onto the string, pulling Ladybug off the roof toward him instead. Chat launched into action at that moment, distracting the villain with his baton to give Ladybug a chance to land properly and retract her yo-yo. The baton seemed to do nothing against the Akuma's crystalline armor, but the blow did at least distract him long enough to allow Chat and Ladybug to meet up on the ground.

"You seem to be in a paw-fully good mood today, My Lady, if you're cracking jokes like that," Chat commented as the two of them launched into a synchronized attack. Within just a few minutes, the two were on opposite sides of the Akuma, hedging him in and keeping him from escaping past the boundaries of the courtyard.

"I'm just glad to get to spread my wings a bit, you know?" Ladybug replied. "So where do you think the Akuma is at?"

"Right under his head, there's a crystal that's a different color from the rest. It kind of looks like a bow tie?"

"I see it. Lucky Charm!" Throwing her yo-yo high in the air, she was rewarded with a crossbow loaded with a flat-headed bolt. Looking around in confusion, she realized that there was a high ledge that would give her a clean shot at knocking that particular crystal off of the Akuma's body, as long as… "Chat, keep him busy!" Ladybug launched herself into the air using her yo-yo before her partner could respond.

"Of course, Bugaboo!" Chat said, turning his attention fully back to Gemocide. "Now then, it's just you and me, buddy…"

It took Ladybug a minute to figure out how to use the crossbow and another to line everything up properly. She took a deep breath in through her nose and out through her mouth, waiting for just the right moment… there! She squeezed the trigger between breaths; luckily, the bolt fired true, the wide, flat head managing to hit the crystal bow tie just so to send it flying into the air.

"NO!!!" Gemocide screamed as Chat scooped up the piece of crystal. "Give that back! If you don't give that back right now, I'll kill you and take your Miraculous!"

"Cataclysm!" A moment later, a dark butterfly fluttered out of the broken gemstone. Ladybug, who had jumped back down to ground level, swiped at it with her yo-yo, capturing it and purifying it.

"Bye bye, petit papillon," she said as she released the purified butterfly. She tossed the crossbow into the air with a cry of "Miraculous Ladybug!" Within moments, the magical swarm of ladybugs had set everything to rights, repairing the damage to the school and restoring the poor man's bow tie to its proper place at his neck.

"Are you all right, sir?" Ladybug asked the gentleman, a rather scrawny looking fellow with curly hair and over-sized glasses.

"O-oh, yes, I'm fine… thank you for that, I'm so embarrassed…" He looked down, twiddling his thumbs, not wanting to meet Ladybug's eyes.

"If you don't mind us asking, what happened?" Chat asked.

"W-well, you see, I'm a geologist, and, I applied for a job at this school, but I was turned down after my interview... "

"I'm so sorry to hear that," Ladybug said, placing a gentle hand on the man's shoulder. "But I'm sure that if you keep looking, you'll find the right job for you soon!"

"Y-you're right… I just get so nervous… at job interviews… and then I m-mess up… my words…"

Ladybug couldn't help but feel bad for the man. "I know how you feel… Sometimes, you can never figure out the right words to say, and you end up tripping over your own tongue, right?"

"Y-yes! Exactly! How did you overcome your problem?"

"Well… honestly, I still struggle with it sometimes. I just had to remind myself to stay calm, slow down, and not let my mouth move faster than my brain. Writing down what you want to say beforehand helps, too, if you can do that."

"I'll have to remember that." Now that he was relaxing a bit, the man was speaking much more easily. He even smiled at the two teenage superheroes. "Thank you again. You two should get going, though; the police will be here any minute, I'm sure."

"You're right." As if on cue, Chat and Ladybug's Miraculous both beeped in warning. The two of them made their way up onto the roof, planning to depart in opposite directions; but before they could leave, Chat called out, "What really took you, Bugaboo?"

"I had a personal matter I needed to take care of, Chat. Unlike you, I don't lose my Miraculous." Chat flushed at the memory of what Plagg had told him in the aftermath of the Style Queen incident, how he'd used that excuse to explain why Chat couldn't help fight the Akuma. For some reason, he had a sinking feeling in his gut, like Ladybug wasn't telling him the whole truth; but he couldn't very well call her on it without any proof, so he held his tongue for the moment.

"By the way…" Ladybug continued, "thank you for saving Marinette. Tikki told me what you did."

"Of course, My Lady. Any friend of yours is a friend of mine! It was my purr-leasure to be of assistance." He gave Ladybug a grand, sweeping bow, earning a giggle and a soft smile in response. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a very hungry Kwami to take care of. Adieu, My Bugaboo!"

"Adieu, Chaton," Ladybug replied warmly before the two of them went their separate ways.

Both of them ducked into alleyways on opposite sides of the school to de-transform, neither of them the wiser of just how close they were to discovering each other's biggest secrets.

As soon as Marinette made it back into the school and found her class, Nino wrapped his arms around her in a panic. "Marinette! What happened? No one could find you! Someone said they saw you in the bathroom, but there was no trace of you. I texted Alya to see if you were with her but she said she had no idea where you were and you weren't answering your phone. We were freaking out!"

"Sorry Nino! I wasn't feeling well, so I actually went home during my free period… I heard there was an Akuma though!"

"Yeah, it was crazy. He kinda reminded me of"--

Marinette cut him off, replying, "Stoneheart, right? When Ivan was Akumatized?"

"Yeah! The big rock dude! How did you know?" Nino asked.

"O-oh, I just, you know, heard people in the halls talking about it! They said he was covered in crystals or something?"

"Yeah, and he was huge! Like, easily ten feet tall." Nino reached high above his head, waving his hand in an effort to express the comparative size of the villain.

"Wow, that's crazy! I'm glad Ladybug and Chat Noir were able to stop him."

"Definitely." Nino nodded in agreement.

Suddenly, two arms wrapped around Marinette from behind and a cheek mashed against the back of her head. "Marinette Dupain-Cheng! Don't scare me like that!" Alya cried out.

"Alya, I'm fine. I wasn't even here for the Akuma attack. I had a free period and I wasn't feeling well so I went home for a bit to rest."

"Oh. Well, you should have told me you were leaving, girl! Then I wouldn't have worried about you."

"I'm glad you're feeling better," Adrien said, walking up behind Alya.

"Yeah, much better actually! I think I just needed a little nap, that's all," Marinette said, plastering a weak smile on her face. "Adrien, did you see the Akuma?"

"Actually, I kinda ended up hiding in a supply closet," he replied sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. "I was going to follow Alya, but I chickened out…"

"That's probably for the best, dude," Nino pointed out. "You know how your dad gets when you're around Akumas."

"Yeah, fair. Hopefully he won't threaten to make me transfer schools again…" Adrien grimaced at the memory of how three Akumas attacked the school within a week last year and his dad threatened to pull him out if the headmaster didn't do something to improve the negative attitudes of the students and staff.

"Well, just tell him that you kept yourself safe, and that should be fine, right?" Marinette asked.

"Hopefully.. We'll see though. Anyway, we should all be getting back to class."

"Yeah… I'm glad you're all okay," Marinette said, giving Adrien in particular a meaningful look.

"You too, Marinette. I hope you feel better the rest of the day."

"I'll talk to you later, girl!" Alya said. "See you at lunch!"

"See you!" Marinette turned to Nino. "Shall we head on to the dreaded Philosophy class?"

"Yeah, I guess so. God, I'm ready for this class to be over for the year. M. Leroux is a total asswipe."

"Me too!"

[mtvswatches]

Jane the Virgin 1x09 Chapter Nine

Spoilers disclaimer (please read before sending messages or writing comments.)

Stray thoughts

1) This was sad…

NARRATOR: Like I said, Jane never forgot the night she wrote her first short story. It was the same night she learned dreams weren't practical. And so Jane kept hers a secret. But she never stopped dreaming.

I think it’s even sadder because this was a conversation she wasn’t supposed to hear, this message wasn’t supposed to be conveyed to her, you know? But it hit her hard, and even as a young girl, she made the decision to keep her dreams tucked away because dreams were a luxury she couldn’t afford.

2) I’m thinking Jane is the writer who wrote this story. Could the narrator be her own “voice”?

3) Oh, Jane…

JANE: The main character in the story, Lucy, is a feisty, single mom that wears booty shorts and entertains a revolving door of guys.

RAFAEL: Well, I'm sure your mom's got a sense of humor about herself, right?

JANE: There's a line in it that says she puts the "loose" in Lucy.

I wouldn’t publish it either, it would break Xiomara’s heart knowing that this is all her daughter sees in her and that she’s kind of slut-shaming her. Xiomara might not be a traditional mom, and she’s definitely flawed and made mistakes when bringing up Jane, but I truly think she’s a good mom. She loves Jane, and they have a very honest relationship. It is heartbreaking that Jane would boil her down to this.

4) #Rogeliomybrogelio is going to be my hashtag for Rogelio from now on.

5) OMG Paulina Rubio was on this show? Will all the Latin artists be on it? Because I’m here for it!

6) Michael thinks Rafael is Sin Rostro… Hmm. Would this show dare to go there, making its main male lead the Big Bad?

7) WTF Petra!

8) 

9) Is everything that comes out of Rogelio’s mouth iconic?

ROGELIO: A hug from Rogelio is like a rabbit's foot. Lucky, rare, and soft to the touch.

10) Why would you leave your hostage alone in the room, Petra? Dumb move. And of course, he’ll learn how to get the cuffs off by watching Rogelio’s telenovela.

11) Michael is cahooting with his shady brother in order to find evidence against Rafael. I’m guessing that won’t end well...

12) And now he’s offering his help to make the whole Petra thing go away. Okay, I’m not hating him this episode. So far.

13) Michael is being helpful and Rafael and Jane are disagreeing pretty much on everything… religion, how to raise the kid, money… Is there going to be a constant love triangle in this show? I mean, I know it is telenovela, and love triangles are a staple of the genre, but I’m not really a fan of them…

14) Mercer stole Rafael’s wallet, of course, he’s still as shady as he was in VM.

15) See why she’s a good mom? Before getting angry, she told Jane how proud she was that she was getting published.

JANE: You were always dating different guys.

XIOMARA: I didn't bring them home.

JANE: Doesn't mean I didn't know about them. And, you know, except for Anthony, no one ever really stuck.

XIOMARA: What do you remember about Anthony?

JANE: I liked him. He was funny, he made me laugh.

XIOMARA: Yeah, he did. And after he broke up with me, you were very sad. Do you remember that? I didn't want that to happen again, so after I kept things casual.

JANE: To protect me?

XIOMARA: Yeah.

16) She is a good mom, fight me.

JANE: I'm not going to sign that publishing consent form anyway.

XIOMARA: I signed it for you.

JANE: What?!

XIOMARA: I am not gonna be the reason that you miss your window.

17) OMG are we getting Magda’s backstory???

Holy shit, that’s some fucked up karma right there! She got acid thrown on her face AND she was run over by a car???

18) Passports, cash, a burner phone… how is Rafael going to explain that one?

19) Is Petra being real, though? I can never tell!!

You think I don't know what it means to struggle? Just like you, it's always been me and my mother. My father was trapped behind the iron curtain during the cold war. When I was a baby, he sent me and my mother off to west Germany. He was meant to follow. For five years, we waited for him. But he couldn't get out. And he died one week one week before the wall fell. I'll never forget that feeling. Losing someone, never getting the chance to know them. That's why I'm fighting for this baby.

I can tell Jane was actually moved, and to be honest, so was I. But I can never really figure out Petra. She doesn’t seem to be completely heartless, but she’s also extremely manipulative and deceitful and she knows how to play people like a fiddle. She definitely plays me!

20) I really hope Michael is not right, but it seems as though he might be…

MICHAEL: But, um, listen, I-I I do want to talk to you about him. Something's going on with him, something shady.

JANE: What? What are you talking about?

MICHAEL: I can't say. But trust me, Jane. I only want what's best for you.

JANE: Rafael said that you had it in for him. I said no.

MICHAEL: Well, there you go. You see, he said that to cover himself in case I said something.

JANE: Michael, stop.

MICHAEL: Jane. Jane, listen.

JANE: No, just stop.

MICHAEL: Something's off with this guy.

21)  Who would’ve thought that the one moment Petra was honest would be her downfall?

22) I really hope Rogelio doesn’t win the award and he has an epic meltdown on live TV.

23) And the winner is…

24) Petra and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

I honestly expected her to be involved in something darker. She was just a girl escaping from her psychopath ex-boyfriend, and that’s why she’d been paying Ivan. I really don’t know why she didn’t come clean to Rafael, it’s not as if she’d committed a crime. Well, except for identity theft. But it was kind of justified?

25) Xiomara met her Goddess!!

And honestly, based on her sweet words, she deserves to be her Goddess.

26) Same plot structure for these two as in the previous two episodes, how long are they going to do this?

RAFAEL: We're better together.

JANE: Really? Because I think the lesson is, is that we're very different, and there are a lot of things that are gonna come up because of that.

RAFAEL: No. Refer back to my lesson. We are better together.

Exactly the same! They start the episode being all lovey-dovey, then they have a disagreement and they feel the relationship is doomed, and then they reach a compromise and make-up. It’s kind of getting old. And boring. Three episodes in a row!

27) Awww!! Rogelio is all smitten because Jane had bet on him winning the award!

28) And Rogelio used his contacts to get Xiomara what she wants. Again. Am I the only one finding these plots repetitive? Especially when the writers are recycling plots from one or two episodes ago?

29) I really like how Jane encouraged her mom to take a chance with Rogelio.

30) What is up with Rafael?

Or did Mercer (sorry, I’m calling Michael’s brother that because I can’t remember his name) set the whole thing up to mess with Michael?

31) WTF

32) Alba is going to find the fucking hostage, isn’t she?

33) HOLY FUCK!!!

AND I KNEW IT! I KNEW SHE COULD WALK!!

34) I enjoyed some of the twists and turns in this episode, but I feel like the writers are resorting to the same storylines to create conflict among the characters. I hope that is not a tendency and it’s just related to the fact that it is the show’s first season and they were still finding their footing. I do feel quite proud of myself for predicting Magda could walk. But what the fuck, she pushed Alba down the stairs?!!

35) Hope you enjoyed my recap, and, as usual, if you’ve got this far, thank you for reading! If you enjoy my recaps and my blog, please consider supporting it on ko-fi.Thanks!

[awesomechristopher01]

How to make $2,500-$25,000 a month partnering with me

Squashing: EARNINGS AND LEGAL DISCLAIMERS

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IT'S ONE OF TBasic: EARNINGS AND LEGAL DISCLAIMERS

TAI IS A PROFESSIONAL AND HIS RESULTS ARE NOT TYPICAL. HIS EXPERIENCES ARE NOT A GUARANTEE YOU WILL MAKE MONEY. YOU MAY MAKE MORE, LESS OR THE SAME.

I'M ABOUT TO SHARE WITH YOU WHAT I THINK MIGHT BE THE MOST IMPORTANT THING YOU'LL HEAR THIS WHOLE YEAR. NOT TO SOUND COCKY, NOT TO SOUND ARROGANT, BUT IF I COULD GO BACK IN TIME, THIS IS WHAT I WISH THEY TAUGHT ME IN SCHOOL.

When YOU HEAR WHAT I'M ABOUT TO SAY, YOU'LL KNOW IMMEDIATELY WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT AND I BET YOU'LL SAY THE SAME THING: WHY DIDN'T THEY TEACH US THIS IN SCHOOL!?

THE LAST 10 YEARS OF MY LIFE I'VE BEEN RESEARCHING, STUDYING AND EXPERIMENTING ON THE REASON 99% OF THE WORLD STRUGGLES FINANCIALLY AND 1% OF THE WORLD HAS MOST OF THE MONEY.

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LET'S GET STARTED.Noteworthy: EARNINGS AND LEGAL DISCLAIMERS

TAI IS A PROFESSIONAL AND HIS RESULTS ARE NOT TYPICAL. HIS EXPERIENCES ARE NOT A GUARANTEE YOU WILL MAKE MONEY. YOU MAY MAKE MORE, LESS OR THE SAME.

I'M ABOUT TO SHARE WITH YOU WHAT I THINK MIGHT BE THE MOST IMPORTANT THING YOU'LL HEAR THIS WHOLE YEAR. NOT TO SOUND COCKY, NOT TO SOUND ARROGANT, BUT IF I COULD GO BACK IN TIME, THIS IS WHAT I WISH THEY TAUGHT ME IN SCHOOL.

When YOU HEAR WHAT I'M ABOUT TO SAY, YOU'LL KNOW IMMEDIATELY WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT AND I BET YOU'LL SAY THE SAME THING: WHY DIDN'T THEY TEACH US THIS IN SCHOOL!?

THE LAST 10 YEARS OF MY LIFE I'VE BEEN RESEARCHING, STUDYING AND EXPERIMENTING ON THE REASON 99% OF THE WORLD STRUGGLES FINANCIALLY AND 1% OF THE WORLD HAS MOST OF THE MONEY.

IT'S ONE OF THE MOST UNFAIR THINGS IN HISTORY AND YOU KNOW WHAT? THE RICH ARE GETTING RICHER. BEFORE I WAS IN THE INNER CIRCLE I WOULD ALWAYS ASK MYSELF, HOW ARE THEY DOING IT? WHAT DO THE 1% KNOW THAT MOST PEOPLE DON'T?

No spot DID I SEE PEOPLE TEACHING THIS STUFF.

SO I WENT OUT AND FOUND MENTORS. Accomplices WHO ARE IN THE INNER CIRCLE. Additional things WHO ARE THE 1%.

I WANT TO PULL BACK THE CURTAIN AND SAVE YOU THE 10 YEARS IT TOOK ME TO LEARN ALL THIS STUFF.

In the event that YOU'VE EVER STRUGGLED FINANCIALLY OR YOU'RE UNDER EXTREME FINANCIAL PRESSURE, READ THIS.

Alright Like TO BREAK OUT OF THAT TYRANNY? THE TYRANNY OF SOCIETAL CLASSES. THE TYRANNY OF NOT BEING FINANCIALLY INDEPENDENT. THE TYRANNY OF BEING BROKE AND EVERY TIME IT'S THE FIRST OF THE MONTH, YOU'RE SCRAMBLING AND FREAKED OUT ABOUT RENT.

Wreck in ME to oblige YOU WHAT I UNCOVERED. HOW I BROKE OUT OF THAT TYRANNY. I'VE BEEN SHARING THIS WITH PEOPLE, BUT NEVER IN THIS WAY BEFORE. I'M NOT TALKING ABOUT RAGS TO RICHES OVERNIGHT, I'M NOT TALKING ABOUT GET-RICH-QUICK SCHEMES. I'M NOT SAYING EVERYBODY IN THE WORLD WILL BE A MILLIONAIRE IF THEY LISTEN TO THIS. NO.

Everything considered, I WILL TELL YOU THIS¦I BELIEVE ALMOST EVERY PERSON CAN DOUBLE THEIR INCOME, ESPECIALLY IF YOU'RE FORTUNATE ENOUGH TO LIVE IN A FIRST WORLD COUNTRY. I TRULY BELIEVE EVERY PERSON CAN DOUBLE THEIR INCOME, AND QUICKER THAN YOU THINK. NOT OVERNIGHT, BUT IT DOESN'T HAVE TO TAKE 20 YEARS.

I STILL REMEMBER, EVERYTHING CHANGED FOR ME WHEN I CHANGED WHO I LISTENED TO, WHO I WATCHED, WHO I ASSOCIATED WITH, WHO I BEFRIENDED, WHO I DATED, WHO I LOOKED UP TO, WHO I IDOLIZED, WHO I LET MENTOR ME, WHO I LET TEACH ME¦YOU SEE THE TRUTH IS, MOST PEOPLE WHO TEACH YOU ABOUT MONEY IN SCHOOL, NEVER DID IT THEMSELVES.

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I CHALLENGE YOU THIS. I'D LIKE TO HELP AS MANY PEOPLE AS I CAN. I'M FORTUNATE ENOUGH TO REACH MILLIONS AND MILLIONS OF PEOPLE WITH MY VIDEOS. HERE'S MY CHALLENGE TO YOU..GIVE ME 5 MINUTES WITH YOU. Tremendously THIS ISN'T GOING TO HAPPEN IN-PERSON, I CAN'T GO FLYING AROUND THE WORLD TO TALK TO PEOPLE FOR 5 MINUTES, BUT IF YOU COULD SPEND 5 MINUTES A DAY WITH A MILLIONAIRE, CONSISTENTLY, I BET YOU YOU'D BEGIN TO SEE A CHANGE IN UNDER A MONTH, POSSIBLY A WEEK, AND THE LONGER YOU KEEP UP WITH IT THE FASTER YOUR GROWTH WILL BE. IT'S EXPONENTIAL.

A little while later I'M NOT SAYING YOU'D BE RICH, THAT'S NOT WHAT I'M SAYING. YOU'RE NOT GOING TO BE RICH AFTER SPENDING 5 MINUTES A DAY FOR A WEEK, BUT YOU'LL SEE THINGS START TO CHANGE.

Attempt IT FOR 28 DAYS AND WATCH SOMETHING AMAZING HAPPEN. Perseveringly I'LL SEND YOU A TEXT AND EMAIL WITH A 5-MINUTE LESSON YOU CAN WATCH ON YOUR PHONE.

HERE IS SOME OF WHAT YOU'LL LEARN IF YOU STICK WITH IT:

- HOW TO INVEST YOUR MONEY

- HOW TO MAKE MONEY WORK FOR YOU

- HOW TO CREATE MULTIPLE FLOWS OF INCOME

- WHAT ARE GOOD TRENDS NOBODY HAS SEEN

- HOW TO GET PAYING CUSTOMERS

- HOW TO FIND MORE MENTORS

- HOW TO GET PEOPLE TO PUT CAPITAL IN YOUR BUSINESS SO YOU CAN START WITH ZERO DOLLARS

- HOW TO FIX YOUR CREDIT AND GET BUSINESS LINES OF CREDIT

- HOW TO INVEST IN REAL ESTATE

- HOW TO OPTIMIZE YOUR WEBSITE

- HOW TO BUILD YOUR SOCIAL MEDIA BRAND (FACEBOOK, YOUTUBE, GOOGLE, SNAPCHAT)

- HOW TO CLOSE SALES DEALS

In the occasion that YOU'RE TOO LAZY TO GIVE ME 5 MINUTES A DAY, THERE'S NO HOPE FOR YOU. THAT MIGHT SOUND HARSH, BUT IT'S TRUE. THIS IS FOR SERIOUS PEOPLE ONLY. 5 MINUTES A DAY OF DEDICATION, CONCENTRATION AND FOCUS.

LET'S GET STARTED.HE MOST UNFAIR THINGS IN HISTORY AND YOU KNOW WHAT? THE RICH ARE

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