#Hnnnnnngggg

[frownyalfred]

oh the subtle, delicate angst of Clark never trusting himself to kiss someone with his powers and then the day comes where he’s temporarily depowered on the Watchtower and, in the scant few moments he has before his powers return, he quietly asks Bruce if he could just — try. one time. just to see what it was like to be kissed without having to worry about hurting someone else or pushing too hard against them or wanting.

[artdcnaldson]

I want to catch innocent art rutting his bed, maybe calling him a dirty boy before I convince him he can hump my pussy, skin to skin and that isn't breaking his oath.

I mean, it's not like he's putting it inside.

HEHEHHEE

yeah :((( it’s his favorite way to get off, poor baby. As long as he isn’t touching he it’s not as bad as if he was actually jerking off and touching his cock.

It’s easy to figure out Art’s routine. He goes to bed, brushes his teeth, tosses and turns in his bed for fifteen, tries to combat the sexual frustration— pray on it or whatever. But he always ended with him laying on his stomach, humping against the mattress.

Not that you’d watched. Particularly often. Okay, you’d watched from the stairs, but only because you thought it was sweet. Adorable, really.

You wait until you hear his soft whimpers, the creak of the mattress. Until they speed up and he gets louder and you have to interrupt before he cums.

“Does that feel good?” He freezes, then scrambles onto his back. His head slams into the top bunk of the bed as he sits up and he groans. “I bet it does, dirty boy.”

He pulls a pillow into his lap, eyes wide. “Don’t— you can’t tell Patrick,” he says pathetically. “He’ll give me shit for it for life.”

You grin, take a few steps closer. “Patrick knows.” He groans hides his face in his hands. “He told me you’re fucking loud, and that you fuck your bed like you’re trying to get it pregnant.”

He whimpers, closing his eyes like he can’t stand to look at you. He does that a lot. “Don’t fucking say that.” His cheeks are burning, he has to cover his face with his hands.

“No?” You ask, settle on the bunk beside him. “I think it’s hot. It must be so hard to keep your sweet little promise, hm? So hard you rut against your mattress like a bitch in heat.”

He swallows hard— you watch his throat bob and follow the movement hungrily. “You’re fucking evil,” he mutters. “Both of you.”

A smile spread across you lips. Gently, you pull his hands from over his eyes. They’re pretty, all soft and eager. Nervous like a scared animal.

“Can I watch you?” You ask, voice soft. “I won’t even touch you. I’ll be a good girl.”

He exhales a shaky breath. “No you won’t.” The words come out pained, like it wounds him.

“Humor me. Maybe your advice is getting to me.”

His breath is shaky as he looks at you, his face so close to yours you could just… lean in, if you wanted to. His pretty lips part, like he expects you to kiss him, like he wants it.

But you just move the pillow from his lap instead, reveal the tent in his boxers, the sticky wet spot here his tip leaks precum onto the fabric. You watch his dick twitch merely from your attention and smile coyly.

“Aw, it likes me,” you tease. His cheeks burn so hot they’d probably sizzle if you touched them. So cute, pink. You wonder how pink and flushed his dick gets when he’s turned on.

“C’mon, I wanna see you do it.” You lean in, so close your lips barely brush his as you whisper softly. “Be a good puppy and I’ll give you a treat.”

He whines, rolls onto his stomach like an obedient little pet, and ruts against the mattress. He moans softly, panting into the pillows as he grinds his clothed cock against the soft mattress.

He looks so fucked out— drooling against the mattress, eyes shut and fluttering, a crease between his brows. He pants out soft ah, ah, ahs that make heat pool in your stomach.

The mattress springs creak as he speeds up, gets desperate to cum. His hands fist in the sheets, toes curl as he gets closer. He’s so close to finishing, of course he is, and you really want to watch, but you’d promised something else.

“Art, do you want your treat?” You ask. His eyes open slowly, his hips halt begrudgingly. You can tell he just wants to keep going, that he’s so close he can taste it. “I’ll lay down, and you can rub yourself against any part of me you want.”

“Clothes on?” He asks, looking up at you. You nod and he swallows, taking in the sight of you. Silky pajamas, exposed skin. He sighs, looks at you with big puppy eyes, and nods.

You lay down on the mattress, warm and smelling of him. He moves so he’s pressed against your side, with his arms slung around your torso to hold you close. He’s hard and wet through his boxers, smearing damp across your soft thigh with the first testing roll of his hips.

He moans, realizes how loud he’s being, and muffles his pretty pants and whines in your hair. His hips move of their own accord, fucking against the warmth of your thigh desperately, animalistically.

He cums fast. Maybe it’s just because he’s so pent up. Maybe it’s the feeling of a person against him, warm and supple. You feel his cock pulsing against your thigh, feel his cum seeping through the fabric as he manages a few feeble ruts against you.

“Thank you,” he says softly, languidly. “That was… it was really nice.”

He keeps you there like he wants to hold you, but you peel yourself from his grip and stand. “Goodnight.” He echoes the sentiment back to you as you hurry down the stairs.

In the morning, Art makes your plate at breakfast, exactly how you like it. Stands to refill your orange juice when you run low.

“He’s got a gross little crush on you,” Patrick mutters later, annoyance twisting his features. “He was, like, asking about you all morning. What kind of food does she like? What kind of music? Does she like tennis? So fucking gross.”

Art, like a golden retriever, dutifully chases tennis balls on the practice court. He catches the two of you looking, waves, and goes back to practicing his serves.

[actuallysaiyan]

Finish your Meal [Nanami Kento]

an: just a quick thought that I’ve had stewing away in my head for the past few days

pairing: Nanami Kento x female reader

warnings: semi-public sexual activity, pussy fingering, teasing in a restaurant

You hadn’t expected a thing, why should you? It wasn’t an unusual occurrence for Nanami to take you out to dinner, in fact, it was a fairly regular thing. However, as you gazed blankly at the full plate of food set before you, there wasn't a single desire to pick up your silverware and eat. How could you possibly be expected to when your man’s fingers were buried up to the knuckles in your soaked cunt?

Could you have predicted that the large hand that had earlier landed on your bare knee whilst you perused the menu would lead to this? It was a touch you were accustomed to, but when those roughened fingers had started to creep and inch higher, the game suddenly began.

Did you hear a single word of the little speech your server gave, likely rattling off specials and asking about dietary requirements? Hell no! All you could focus on was how Nanami found it so very easy to stroke the apex of your thighs whilst smiling politely at the server when in fact the smile was aimed at you for the small movement in parting your legs. You always were such a good girl for him, never denying him exactly what he wanted and right now, that was you.

Kento ordered for the two of you, the rather smug-looking man having remembered what you had told him took your interest and chose the same for himself. Your protests fell upon deaf ears; hazel eyes sharp and calculating softened as he drank you in. His voice had sounded like honey dripping down your spine, the warmth of his words settling over your consciousness as he toyed with your panties and commented on the growing damp patch beneath his fingertips. Of course, his observations only made it all the worse, and your panties were sticky with arousal when he finally slid them to the side.

It hadn’t taken long before your fingers were digging into the crisp fabric of his button-up shirt, heat caressing your face and lips popped open. Your eyes darkened with adrenaline-laced pleasure, dopamine flooding your veins at the risky situation. Nanami’s two thick fingers curled to perfection in your drooling little pussy, his thumb rubbing soft circles around your aching clit. He refused to stop even when the server returned with your meals and you couldn’t look either man in the face.

Now here you were, desperately biting down on the noises that fought to slip from your mouth. Kento’s subtle smirk forcing your hips to grind a little harder against his hand, marvelling at how he was able to eat slowly with his one free hand. He had no right to look this damn attractive, a few strands of blonde hair falling into his face and your fingers itched to sweep them back. A tight sigh pressed through his nose, eyes snapping to your untouched plate with a furrowed brow.

“Eat up, sweetheart,” he coaxed whilst leaning in to press a chaste kiss to your burning cheek. A quiet moan escaped, his fingers stalling in their relentless passing over of the deep sweet spot that you were never able to reach without his help and his warm breath traced over the sensitive skin of your neck. Your pulse thumped against his lips that quirked into a smile before sitting back to resume his meal. The pace of his digits felt far slower now, leisurely and almost downright lazy and suddenly he revealed exactly why.

“Finish your meal, that is, if you would like to cum…”

[some-zer0]

WAIT HOLD ON

I'm rewatching AA1-2, and when Phoenix presses April May's testimony about seeing Maya, he says, "Hold on a minute. That testimony stinks!" and when Maya objects to Lotta's testimony in 1-4 she says almost exactly the same thing

[ex-textura]

'What if our tavs kissed?' pt. 5/? Amaris x Glimmer [ @gobbochune ]

[faedecay]

Fuck I really just want to talk about my special interest so bad and my ship in it bc I love them but I also want to keep it private bc dudebros are getting their panties is a twist when a queer person makes their favs queer and it makes me want to implode

[cloudbells]

In my Howard/Steve feels right now, no one speak to me.

[breitzbachbea]

Would it be unethical to ask someone to give me this for my birthday

[actuallysaiyan]

Okay okay okay

So I know everyone ships Geto and Gojo right...but I'm thinking...what happens if a super super cute and sexy new hire gets to work with Nanami and Gojo? Will they fight over her?.I mean I know Gojo would call dibs but what if Kento is superrrr into her? He'd probably pretend he's above something like that, but in reality, you know he's gonna woo the fuck outta her! 👀👀😩😩 And the potential of a threesome!! Dear god, those two would wear someone out very very quickly

shskahekahajshshw

me personally, i'm letting kento woo me. satoru is insane and the problem is i am also insane and he would just encourage it lol whereas kento is far more grounded and will cool my head when i start to lose it

i think gojo would certainly try if he liked her enough, and nanami would make an attempt but wouldn't really go as far as fighting gojo over it. if she doesn't choose him, that's perfectly fine. he's not interested in messy drama, especially between coworkers in this line of work

and perhaps this sexy new hire does like nanami a lot, but takes him giving up as him not being interested in her! and gojo is incredibly affectionate and after her, after all, so they enter a relationship and everything is great!! but nanami sits at the back of her mind still...

admitting this to gojo is risky, but it'd be better to lose a relationship while it's young, yes? he knew kento was interested at least a little, and it's quite normal for him to linger in your mind, since he suddenly seemed to lose that interest. that's how you see it, anyway. satoru certainly knows better, so he smiles and kisses you with an idea forming in his mind, and after that the subject is left alone

bringing his idea to kento went about as expected, but satoru is a crafty little thing and eventually, kento finds himself agreeing. you're wearing that red shirt today, the one with the low cut v-neck and the black skirt that hugs your body perfectly... his cock twitches in his pants every time he sees you. gojo grins like the bastard he is and tells nanami he'll see him at his place later on, and to bring his own rubbers

the threesome is a complete surprise to you, but as you choke on kento's thick cock while gojo slams into your pussy with his more lengthy cock, you've certainly come to terms with it. kento personally can't believe he's doing this, but the way your throat clings on his dick as you take it all the way in is a surefire reminder that this is entirely real. he's a little reserved at first, but with satoru's coaching and the way you guide his hands to touch you, he's easily able to find his way in the threesome and makes you cum several times

he's invited over quite often, sometimes with incredibly short notice, and starts keeping condoms with him at all times, just in case

[kingofthe-egirls]

pspspspsps love, I have another one-

phone sex with Luffy?😶

hnnnnnngggg thank youuuu

PHONE SEX: LUFFY x Y/N

modern au

(cw: facetime, modern au, pet names, long distance relationship, dirty talk, phone sex, mutual masturbation, toys, this is now part of my modern au mma!luffy series lmao, this is from Luffy's pov)

Songs: "Big God" by Florence + the Machine

words: 1.7k

"Baaaabe," Luffy whines, on the other end of your FaceTime.

He's kneeling on a hotel bed, phone propped up by a scuffed, metal water bottle. There are stickers emblazoned all over the shiny red: mostly ads from sponsors, his own straw hat skull-and-crossbones, plus a sticker of a cool katana Zoro had found for him. He's watching you bite your lip through the screen of his phone, far too small and rectangular to capture the fact of yourself. He hates long distance.

But he'll be home in a week, and then you can come visit.

"Hey, Luffy," you smile, glittering through the screen. He wants you here, now. You flick your hair over your shoulder, leaning down on the couch with your arm resting along the back. You prop your chin in one hand. 

Luffy eyes you up and down: from your face to just below your collarbones, the lamplight behind you, and the top of the couch is all he can see. "Put the phone down, baby," he pants, already heavy with lust. He misses your sweet cunt so bad. "I wanna see all of ya," he whines. You giggle, and step forward to set your phone on the coffee table in front of you. Now, Luffy can see you sitting back on the couch, in pajama shorts and a tank top. Your legs are really cute, he thinks, as you bring them up to sit cross-legged in between the couch cushions. You sink in, slightly.

Luffy giggles, "Comfy there, princess?" 

You blush.

"I like the in-between," you defend yourself, slouching back farther and sinking in like quicksand. Luffy laughs, out loud. He likes how silly are, sometimes. Other times, he wants to see you gagged on his cock. (But oh well, you'd probably make him laugh with his dick halfway down your throat, anyway). You kick your feet.

"But then I can't see ya," he whines, palming the front of his red boxers. "I wanna play, kitten." He hooks his thumb into the waistband, and drags them down an inch. Your eyes go wide, and he grins.

"Okay," you agree, immediately. You're already pulling your shirt halfway over your head, curled like a shrimp into the couch cushions. You shriek, caught, and kick your legs like a grasshopper trying to get out. Luffy cackles, bending forward to screenshot your call.

"You're like a beetle," he grins, saving a new photo to his favorites, "That got turned upside down."

"'M not a beetle!" You shout, having knelt up on the cushions to push them back roughly together. You're bent over, one leg on the floor and the other still on the couch. He watches your ass fill the screen, appreciating the tiny booty shorts you're wearing to bed. They're hot pink with a neon stripe down each side.

"Cute as a beetle," he counters, biting his lip. His hard cock is straining against his boxers, now, and he can't wait to just bend you over and rail you from behind. Damn, this week is gonna be a lifetime waiting for you to come visit him. He'll have to fly you out first class, no questions asked. (Maybe your girlfriend might wanna come, too).

But he files that thought away for later, watching you sit back down with a huff, now in nothing but your sports bra. He flicks an eyebrow.

"So, ya gonna strip for me?"

You laugh, pulling at the elastic strap as it digs into your shoulder. He can see your tits spilling out from the too-small bra. He fights back a moan, but just barely. He watches you skim your hands over every hill and valley in your voluptuous body. He fucking loves your curves.

You lean forward towards the camera, letting your cleavage spill out nice and close for him to see. You giggle, "Wanna see a titty drop?"

He chokes out a laugh, and then, "Please."

You smirk, knowing full well what you do to him, and slowly lift your bra up from the bottom. You pull upward, exposing the underside of your breasts, before releasing them completely so they bounce back down against your chest. He licks his lips.

"Do that again."

And you do.

He watches with glassy eyes as you slowly, meticulously, bring your sports bra back down, black and stretched out over your frame. You bounce a little, in your seat. He gasps.

"C'mon, man," his voice cracks, "That's just not fair."

You laugh, pleased. He tilts his head, "Don'tcha do this professionally? What are your like, signature moves?" He kneels back on the bed, running a hand through his hair.

You hum, throwing your own hair up into a bun. You don't like when it touches your bare skin, apparently. ADHD thing, he figures.

"Well, you just saw one," you smile slightly as you readjust in your seat. You're sitting with one leg under you, the other draped over the side of the couch. You pull at the bottom of your sports bra, and he moans as he watches you slowly strip for him.

You bend over, leaning against the back of the couch, your ass spread nice and wide for him. "Such a good fucking ass," he praises you, and you turn over your shoulder to smile at the screen.

"Wanna leave your handprint on it?" You ask wryly, bending over more and hitching your shorts up higher, so barely anything is left covered. He sees your glistening slick through the thin fabric. He wants to touch.

"Fuck yes," he breathes, reaching inside his shorts, "Take those off."

"Yes, sir," you reply daintily, turning to slide your own shorts over your hips. He watches the pink fabric slip down your legs, revealing the crease of your hips and your sweet inner thigh as you do. Fuck it, he decides, he wants to taste. You sit down with a satisfied, smug grin. "That's my second move," you flick your eyes up and down your phone screen, no doubt taking in the sight of him fisting his cock over you. Luffy tugs his shorts the rest of the way down, and you gasp.

"That's my first," he says, grinning, "Well, the first is calling you, and begging you to strip," he scratches his head. "That's not a very powerful move, is it?" He laughs, sheepishly. Needy, much?

"Not a bad move," you decide, leaning forward to pick up the phone. He gets a closeup shot of your face again. You’re smiling, shy, holding the phone high enough so he can see your gorgeous tits splay out to either side of your ribcage.

“Your turn!” You say as you settle back down into the couch pillows, supported by the large, canvas armrest. Luffy slides his boxers down all the way, kicking them off his legs and leaving them on the floor.

You moan, and he lights up. “Yeah?” He asks, pumping his cock in a loose fist, “Like whatcha see?”

“Mhmm,” you moan, biting your lip. You reach over to your side, thumping around for a bit, before he hears the sound of a vibrator turning on. He giggles at the buzzing, and you blush.

“Show me,” he teases, and you hold up a lavender clit sucker with light pink buttons. He hums appreciatively. “Pretend it’s my mouth, okay?”

“Yes, daddy,” you chirp, and grin slightly as you place the toy between your legs. You gasp a little as the pressure locks into your clit. Luffy tightens his grasp on his dick.

“So pretty for me, baby,” he coos at you through the phone speaker. He wishes he could breathe it into your ear, halfway buried in your cunt.

Just one more week.

“Daddy’s gonna take such good care of ya,” he moans. He feels himself thicken in his hand. “‘M gonna spoil ya rotten, okay? Don’t gotta worry about a thing, with me,” he grunts, bucking his hips.

He’s watching your flushed face contort in pleasure, taking the vibrations oh so sweetly from your clit sucker. “Show me,” he breathes, speeding up, “Show me what that toy’s doin’ to ya.”

You moan, and lower the camera so that he can see you from the pussy up. Like he’s eating you out.

He groans.

“Fuck baby, ya look so good,” he reaches forward to grab his phone, bringing the screen closer to his face as he screenshots several times. “Can’t fucking wait ta have ya in my mouth again,” his cock twitches at the memory.

He leans his head back, pumping his fist, as he listens to your moans and imagines it’s your mouth on his dick.

“Wantcha right here,” he huffs, chest heating with lust. His eyes are half-lidded, and he has to let go of his cock to push the sweaty hair back from his face. You moan at the sight, bringing the phone back up to your face.

“Can I screenshot you?” You ask, hitching your breath as the buzzing speeds up. He grins, thinking he probably should’ve asked first, but oh well. No time like the present.

“Course,” he says, voice thick, “What about me? Can I screenshot ya? I wanna look back atcha later.” You giggle, and nod. He lets out a sigh of relief. Good.

“Show me your hands?” You ask, hungrily. “Your shoulders, too.”

Luffy grins, more than happy to oblige. He leads the camera down his muscular frame, letting his free hand drape over his chest and abs as he pans the phone down. He focuses on his hips for a bit, slowly pumping his cock in time with your moans. Your breath hitches, and he wishes it was his cock fucking those noises out of you, instead.

He clenches his hand in and out of a fist, wiggling his fingers a little bit. You stare, doe-eyed and dumbfucked as you focus on the hands that have made you cum countless times before. He wishes he could fuck you with his hand again—that’ll be the first thing he does when he gets you in his bed.

“Love your hands, Luffy,” you say, eyes blown as you stare at the phone. He wishes he could kiss you, too. As it is, he smooches at the screen, and you laugh.

“Love you,” he says, feeling warm and fuzzy in the bleach-scented bed. He frowns. “Miss you.”

“Miss you too, baby,” you say, and then, “Love you too.”

He beams.

****

[scketchorinopop]

chews on your finger - Mango

gets my finger chewed

puts Mango in time out

also hnnnnnngggg,,,, teef perspective hard,,,,

@mango-ribs

[normalhound]

Hnnnnnngggg arf 🥺 kisses kisses and licks so good puppy so sso good

Pretty puppy so warm and wet feel so good on my dick

Can you cum on me puppy I wanna feel you squeeze me

(Fun fact: last night I had a dream that my tdick could cum like cis dicks do and hnng it was so gender. I was getting overstimmed with a vibrating stroker too and hoooly shit)

-🐶

mghhh yes i can, fuck,, wanna cum all over you, want to bite at your shoulder and whine into the reddening skin, want to pant desperately and whimper as you work me through it

also that sounds soooo good, cis dick dreams are my favourite <33 mghhm, waking up after one and just rutting into the mattress is. unmatched

[frodo-with-glasses]

It had been so long since he’d had a new visitor.

Long ago, an old friend had blessed them, wishing that one day they would sit by a wall in the sun, retelling their tales and laughing at old grief. At one point—when the journey had taken its toll, and the grief was still too near for laughter—he'd begun to think it would never come true.

And yet, here they were, sitting on the little bench by the vine-clad wall in the garden: trading memories, telling tales old and new, and laughing, laughing, laughing. It was odd; at times it seemed he was talking to a stranger, someone with a wealth of life and memory that was completely unknown to him.

At other times, it seemed no time had passed at all.

They spoke of the Shire, and of old friends, and of weed and ale and food, and of Hobbiton and Buckland and Tuckborough, and of the distant lands of Elves and Dwarves and Men, and of fathers and mothers and sisters and brothers and aunts and uncles and cousins and grandparents and wives and children (so many children! so much joy!), and of new farms and orchards and forests and gardens and beautiful fallow hills.

They spoke of old things, difficult things: dust and ash and blood and dirt and thirst and stone and sickness and hunger, silence and distance and guilt and doubt and pain and fear; and love, aching love, bruised knuckles and dry lips and bloody fingertips sort of love; and the hand that reached over to grasp his was shaking, and just as wrinkled and gnarled as his own, and worn brown and leathery from sun and wind and soil, and so very utterly beautiful.

They spoke of many things, old and new, happy and sad, each one richer than a dragon's hoard of silver or gold; but it was before they'd been speaking too long—indeed, before he even sat down, because he knew once he did that it would take him far too long to get up again—that he asked the most important question of all.

"Care for a cup of tea?"

It was asked with a smile, as he leaned on his walking staff—the selfsame one dear old Bilbo had used, before he went to sleep at last under the tree on the hill—and stood halfway in the doorway of his little house.

And Sam turned, and smiled, and all the wrinkles on his lovely humble old face jumped out at once.

"I could go in for a cuppa, I think."

Tea?

Uncle Saradoc and the search party had been out for over an hour. It was now very late; far past his bedtime. Aunt Esmerelda had wrapped him in a warm blanket and given him a little cup of tea, but it sat untouched on the table at his side, and had gone quite cold.

He couldn’t drink it. He couldn’t sleep. His stomach hurt too badly for either.

When Uncle Saradoc came in about a half an hour later, he was walking very quietly, and wringing his hat in his hands, and he had to take two slow, deep breaths before he could look Frodo in the eye.

Frodo never touched that tea.

- - -

He always had tea with breakfast—both first and second—with two sugar cubes and enough milk to turn the concoction nearly white. Bilbo liked to joke that Frodo liked a bit of tea with his milk, rather than the other way around. Frodo didn’t mind. He liked his way just fine; he’d once taken a sip from Bilbo’s cup by mistake, and nearly spat it out.

Tea was better when it was sweet.

- - -

They’d had a few home-brewed beers with dinner at Farmer Maggot’s house, of course, but tea with supper in the house at Crickhollow. Merry and Fatty, bless them, already had the kettle on by the time the three others had sloshed out of the bath, and supper was served in short order; Frodo thought a quiet home meal, with Mrs. Maggot’s gift of mushrooms, had never tasted so good.

He took his tea with far less embellishment nowadays. Just a pinch of sugar, and a small splash of milk. He was now the sober age of fifty, and sugar-milk with a sparse hint of tea flavoring held far less appeal than it had when he was a tween.

He was staring into a half-emptied cup, trying to work up the courage to tell them all he was leaving the Shire for good, when Merry beat him to the punch.

He’d never been so happy to be played for a fool in his entire life.

- - -

There was tea in Bree, but it was mostly forgotten in favor of ales and lagers in mugs the size of their heads. It was a shame they spent so little time in the Prancing Pony, and had to leave town so soon; Frodo could have gone in for a cuppa to soothe his nerves in all the madness that had happened.

- - -

There was tea in Rivendell, but only because Bilbo had explicitly requested it for his own comfort. They were deep in conversation when Bilbo slid a little teacup Frodo’s way, and the drink in it was nearly white.

Two sugars. A whole pour of milk.

Frodo smiled, but his chest ached, and there was some warm pressure behind his eyes.

- - -

There was no tea in Moria.

There was no tea in Lorien.

There was no tea in the wilderness; the Emyn Muil; the Dead Marshes.

If they walked past some relative of a tea leaf growing wild in the tattered gardens of Ithilien, Sam didn’t stop to get a clipping. They didn’t have a kettle anyway.

- - -

There was no water in Mordor.

- - -

They’d opened every window, scrubbed every floor, thrown out the stained and molding old furniture and replaced it with new. There were curtains on the windows again, and a merry little fire on the hearth, and the comfy clattering of pots and pans and sizzle of cooking food.

He sat in silence, staring into the fire. He didn’t know it, but his thumb was rubbing circles over the scar where his third finger had been.

The fire danced and flickered. He didn’t see it.

His thumb kept rubbing circles.

“Tea?”

It took a long moment, but he slowly realized that the noise was a question. When he lifted his head, he saw that Sam had appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, already holding the kettle with a little woven red pot-holder, as if that was the most normal thing in the world.

Frodo’s eyes stung, and not because of the fire. His breath hitched.

He put his face in his hands and wept.

- - -

(Inspired in part by this post)

WORD ASK GAME!

[yusuke-of-valla]

Hnnnnnngggg

[szkicel]

hnnnnnngggg i’m like thissss 👌 close to making a new sideblog bc dammit i wanna yap about the media i’m reading/watching/playing and reblog my favourite fanarts and maybe even do some doodles that wouldn’t be appropriate for main art blog (but not THAT inappropriate) buuuuuuut i just knooooow when i make one i’m just gonna end up reblogging sth once a blue moon and not actually talk OR doodle like i’m doing with ro.bug sideblog rn 😭😭😭

[cosmikchaaya]

hnnnnnngggg