#I LOVE HIM YOUR HONOR.

[vaile-elenya]

ROBERT ARAMAYO AS ELROND PEREDHEL, MORFYDD CLARK AS GALADRIEL, BENJAMIN WALKER AS GIL-GALAD| LORD OF THE RINGS: RINGS OF POWER SEASON 2

[houseofmcallister]

Shaxx is the only man to ever matter actually.

[rennarita]

[sable-elk]

Meet Me in the Woods Tonight

✦Rating: T

✦Pairing: Jack Krauser/GN!Reader

✦CW: Jack Krauser Lives, Tooth rotting fluff, Marriage proposal, GN!Reader, scar kissing.

✦Word count: 1k

✦Summary: You are enjoying an October evening when you find a note on the counter from your boyfriend with the simple instructions, 'Meet Me in the Woods'

✦A/N: i needed soft Krauser in my life. enjoy, i love him so much i will literally go feral for him.

I ain't never been away so long/Don't look back, them days are gone/Follow me into the endless night/I can bring your fears to life/Show me yours and I'll show you mine

ao3 link: here

It’s been two years and thirty-one days since you’ve met him, Jack Krauser. It started off when you ran into each other at the farmers market, a passing smile, greeting, then moving on with both of your days. But something about that brief encounter stuck with you. There was a spark, a connection that gently nagged at you. You continued to run into him, so you took a chance to reach out to him those two years ago. Krauser lived in a barn at the edge of town, it wasn’t hard to find, seeing as you lived in a small farm town. You started seeing Krauser around October, visiting more often, running into him more frequently at the farmers market, and even at work. Krauser would come in to the bar you worked at, order a drink or two, and head on his way. You remember you used to live in that shitty old apartment that was just enough for you, but not so much anyone else. When you and Krauser started seeing each other, dating even, you would say, you stayed more and more at his home, until eventually he asked you, albeit a bit sheepishly, to move in with him. Eventually the nights were less quiet, filled with noises that felt more like a home. So here you were now, sitting in front of a custom-built fire place, curled up in a blanket as you sipped your hot cocoa. The October chill brought smells of rain, faint spices of pumpkin spices and crisp air. You stood up from your spot in front of the fireplace, folding the blanket and setting it on the couch before closing the fire screen and heading to the kitchen to wash your mug. Your eyes caught a paper on the counter, written for you in Krauser’s handwriting. You gently picked it up, eyes scanning the words on the paper. It read simply ‘Meet me in the woods’. You smiled and set the paper back down before changing into one of Krauser’s flannels, sweats, and slid on boots before heading out of your shared home. The brisk smell of the October air hit your nose as you went to the trail behind the barn, following it quietly. You and Krauser had a spot you two had made into something of a safe spot for you both to get away. You sat down in the clearing and glanced around, not seeing your boyfriend anywhere. Your senses picked up on a twig snapping, and you turned, eyes landing on your boyfriend, wearing nothing but his black and gray shirt and cargo pants with his worn down boots that you insisted needed to be replaced by now. A soft smile crossed your features,” You spooked me, love.” You hummed with a soft chuckle. A smile crinkled onto Krauser’s features,” Sorry, pumpkin.” Krauser goes over gently and sits down with you, holding you in his lap as his thumbs gently rub circles on your hips,” I want to ask you something.” You look up at him, leaning against his chest as his touch sent liquid relaxation coursing through you,” Of course, Hun.” You gently lean up and hold Krauser’s face as you kiss over his scar gently. You watch as he lets out a heavy breath, shoulders slumping ever so slightly as his features soften. You smile and kiss his lips softly before pulling away and seeing a flash of nervousness pass through his features.

Krauser subconsciously pulls you closer, hands sliding to hold yours before he stands up, pulling you to your feet with him. “Come here, I have to show you something.” He says quickly, and before you have time to respond, he's interlacing your fingers and pulling you along the path, forcing you to follow him without much protest. Krauser leads you to a stone bridge overlooking Antler Creek. The trees were adorned with vibrant hues of red, orange and yellow as October continued strong. The air is crisp as rain becomes evident from the clouds overhead. You turn to look at him, slightly confused. When you turn, he’s on one knee, and your voice dies in your throat. Krauser looks into your eyes,” I love you, your determination and the way you smile, taking every hit and staying strong. It makes me want to be that way myself, it makes me want to protect you from those hits, every day. You made me a better man, a better lover. So I-” Krauser chokes on his words for a moment, letting out a breath,” Will you marry me?” He asks, looking into your eyes. You can feel tears forming at your lash line, swallowing your vision with a blurry cloud as you jump on him, embracing him in a tight hug,” Yes. God, yes.” You whisper, voice wobbling with effort not to cry. Krauser holds you and kisses you lovingly, large hands gently holding your hips as the kiss steals the breath from your lungs. Krauser gently reaches up and wipes the tears from your eyes and kisses your forehead gently. You look down to see him slip the ring on you- a beautiful heart-shaped citrine gem. You look up at Krauser to see his smile as wide and as bright as the sun, looking at you like you are the only person that matters in this world right now. Krauser leans down and captures your lips again in a kiss that told you he loves you, and he will protect you forever. Krauser cupped your face, thumbs caressing your cheeks as he pulled away, “I finally get to call you mine…” He whispers, almost as if to convince himself this was real. You reach up and hold his hand, a rumble of thunder shaking across the sky as rain started falling on you two, but nothing could ruin this moment. “I love you, Jack Krauser.” You say softly, and it melts him, breaks him down to being just a man, you're soon-to-be husband. Krauser wraps his arms around your waist and kisses you again, droplets of rain connecting you two in an ethereal dance. 

It's been two years and thirty-one days since you've met him, Jack Krauser. And every day, you are grateful for that passing smile, that simple greeting, that brought you together, leading to this moment. Yeah, you could get used to this.

[piraticaltwit]

Joe + natural mummification / 3.02

[gamelost]

matt may look like he has no muscles and is a simple pathetic twink but this twink has beaten and will beat again

[kaoharu]

im gonna be so honest ayn seasonal hunting story got me kinda misty eyed

[rossary-of-the-rose]

someone sedate this man.

[lucdoodle]

thought that one Alastor scene would look cool in comic lettering, so i drew this

[azmenka]

never mind Spotify giving me the Hazbin Hotel ost and this fucking song just is every diplomatic meeting with Maron ever . . .

[orbitganymede]

self proclaimed guard dog simon who’s never held a conversation with you or even really tried to interact with you at all. he had caught a glimpse of you out on the town and traced you back to your current job, lucky for him, on base. you’re a little freaked out, this mammoth of a man randomly shows up one day and pulls a chair up to your desk, takes out a book and just hangs out for a few hours? even leaves an extra lighter for his cigs in your pen holder. introductions were a quick back and forth on names and that’s about it, sometimes he comments on your clothes or jewelry, he saw your dainty little chain on your neck and purchased an S charm the next day, left it on your desk and that was that. you really shouldn’t be okay with this but he’s kinda intriguing, and the guy that has the office next to yours hasn’t bothered you in weeks, something you’ve been begging for mentally, so really what’s simon doing wrong? he sometimes even brings you a stray pudding cup from the mess, how sweet.

but what really gets you is when you’ve just got in your car, setting your things down, buckling your seat belt, the works, but simon slides in your passenger seat, gives you a look (his eyes look so pretty in the sunlight) and tells you to “take us home”, you’re nervous to say the least, you heard what happened to janet in admin when she told him one of his stacks of paperwork was filed wrong, that she wasn’t gonna take his next one until he fixed his mistake (she’d left crying, cursing his name to high hell, and asking for a transfer) so really what choice do you have.

and maybe he walks into your place, goes straight for where you always store your remote and turns on the channel you like to watch, almost as if he’s seen this routine before, he even asks what face mask you’re gonna do tonight, you wonder how he guessed that you do a face mask every friday night (he suggests the blueberry charcoal one, says it makes your skin glowy (he did not use the word glowy)) you shrug and go on with your nightly tasks, make dinner, do dishes, shower. but what actually makes you stop in your tracks is when he walks out of the bathroom, still steamed up from his shower, butt ass naked and asks you what your favorite position is, pet.

[vaile-elenya]

ROBERT ARAMAYO AS ELROND PEREDHEL | LORD OF THE RINGS: RINGS OF POWER SEASON 2

[theorist-fox]

Some more insecure Simon Riley talk, because he's precious.

18+

Word count: 1.4k

CW: nothing, just smut. Simon finds you in lingerie and has a stroke. I love him your honor.

Masterlist 🦊

𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬

Simon, who is not sure what to do with himself the first time you welcome him home in nothing but lingerie.

He’s so unbelievably tired, dropping his clothes on the floor of the bedroom without even lifting his head. Mumbling apologies to you—how he’ll clean tomorrow, how he just wants to go to bed and sleep fourteen hours straight, right now. Bonus points if you hold him through the night, too.

Yet you���re not replying, but he’s seen your silhouette in the darkness; he knows you’re awake because you whispered a soft “Welcome back” when he walked in the room. His heart pounds in his chest, his palms get clammy—he thinks he’s overstepping lines by not giving you the attention he thinks you deserve.

So, as he unzips his pants, he lifts his eyes to look at you, and fuck—

You’re lying on your side, propped on your elbow, chin tucked in your palm. Perfect tits covered in sheer fabric, burgundy and black, your nipples peeking through. The soft line of your waist is bare—he follows it with his eyes until they land on your hips. Ornated lace curves around your hipbone and thins into see-through, dark fabric over your mound. Two strips of silk clasp your knickers to a pair of thin stockings that cinch the fat of your thighs, and the sight makes his mouth water.

“Welcome back,” you say once again, this time with soft amusement.

He looks like a proper idiot. Hand still on his crotch, practically feeling how his cock comes to a stand at the mere sight of you.

He gulps. Feels a little lightheaded. “F’ me?”

You smile, chuckling softly but not derisively. Simon follows your hand as you guide it over your belly, up to the valley of your breast, as if you’re there, showing the goods he can pick and taste.

“For you.”

Simon is stunned into silence again.

Fuck is he supposed to do, uh? He’d be content just looking at you lying there and looking like you came out of a magazine, instead of touching you and potentially ruining what you did just for—for him?

He must not have noticed how his whole body (aside from his cock) has gone into standby—entered sniper mode. He's quiet, breaths reduced and silent, eyes attentive and narrowed.

It's a handful of seconds that leave you uncomfortable, as your plastic pose softens, your smile faltering at the corners.

“You don’t like it?” You ask, trying to sound steady, but he picks up the nervousness in your tone right away.

He won’t let you have it, obviously. He snaps out of it and takes you in for what you are: a fucking present, on his bed, wrapped in strings and bows and lace like gift wrap.

“Shoulda guessed it was too much, maybe. Should’ve gone for somethin’ soft—"

Simon is on you in seconds. Grabs your face in his hands and smashes his lips to yours something fierce, nothing like you’ve ever experienced before. No hesitation. Simple, tangible desire. Scorching lust. Want. Need—fuck, he’s never kissed you like this.

Your eyes lose their surprise, and they slowly surrender to him—hands wandering down to help him out of his pants and briefs. And then you wrap your arms around his neck, grazing his scalp with your nails until he shivers.

Simon thought there was nothing comparable to the softness of your skin against the harder patches of scars freckling his abdomen. But he’s proved wrong when he feels the rough texture of your lace scratch his chest and his hips—it has him leaking embarrassingly quick.

He’s all lips and tongue as he races down your chest, sloppy kisses leaving a burning trail between your tits, down your belly, settling on your cunt covered by thin mesh.

Simon looks up at you, holding your thighs between thick fingers, smushing them against his cheeks. His eyes are hooded, dark, different. He tilts his head and bites into the plump flesh within reach—not enough to hurt, but sure enough to taste. Mercifully passes his tongue over the teeth marks before biting into it again, until the sting has you arching your back off the bed.

And he never breaks eye contact, which leaves you dumbfounded and flustered to the bone—because where is this confidence coming from? You’re wide-eyed and biting your own teeth in anticipation—this is all new and all the more exciting.

His kisses travel from the lines of your stretch marks up to your sex, where he doesn’t even bother moving the gusset of your knickers, and he just dives in.

Tongue flat against your cunt, drenching the sheer fabric with his spit and your moisture. Your moans are so soft compared to the sloppy mess he’s making of you down there, his insecurity blessed by a sort of beginner’s luck. Or maybe he’s just that hungry, and that is enough for your cunt flutter around nothing anyway.

You’re speechless when he finally lifts himself up, slotting his hips between your kiss-bitten thighs. His cock lands heavy on your pelvis, painting your lower belly with speckles of sheer precum. Head swollen and red right above your belly button.

You look at him wide-eyed, on your back, stock-still—anticipating his next move with your heart rate spiking.

He takes you completely by surprise (once again? In one night? Who is this man?), when he moves your knickers to the side, and instead of plunging in, he slides his cock between your folds and snaps the lace back above it. And then he starts rutting in shameless abandon, holding you steady by your thighs, letting the sheer fabric of your panties cover his tip and half of his shaft, as he runs himself back and forth over the surface of your pussy.

“M’gonna ruin it, sorry.” He croaks, as one of his hands comes to clumsily grab your tits through the lace. “So fuckin’ pretty—fuck—bloody hell, you—”

You coax him to go on with breathless moans because he’s never looked more breathtaking than he does now. Tiny drops of sweat drip from his forehead onto your belly, cheeks flushed and long lashes fanning his cheekbones. His lips yield a grunt each time the lace scratches his shaft. Your breath hitches each time the head of his cock catches your clit.

“Gonna buy ya a new one, yeah?” He grunts, looking down at the wet patch his cock is making through the lace. “Gonna buy ya fuckin’ ten.”

He’s never been this vocal, and you don’t dare to mouth a whisper in case he catches himself in the act. Not even when you cum, a short and stinging orgasm that makes your clit burn at the friction, do you dare to moan. You tilt your head back and shut your eyes, neck corded in the strain to keep it in, flushing with warmth in unbearable silence.

You think you hear his voice crack through the cotton in your ears when you come back down from your high. “Fuck—God, fuck. Wha’ a gift, eh? F’ me. All f’me.”

He pulls back a few moments later, taking his cock out of your panties and into a thick hand. A few pumps, and he cums on your lace, painting your belly and your cunt in glistening white.

He’s panting as his hand languidly comes to a halt. Chest flushed and with a thin layer of sweat over it.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, clearly dizzy—as if he needs to apologize for this. “I ruined it. I—just—gonna go grab somethin’ to—to clean y'up, wait 'ere—Jesus Christ.”

He slowly comes to stand, knees popping and legs shaking as he stumbles to the bathroom.

You look down at the spurts of cum covering your stomach and staining the lace of your panties, and then you flop your head back onto the mattress, wide eyes locked to the ceiling.

A chuckle of disbelief escapes you, still in shock from the sudden switch in behavior. And you think, when he comes back with a towel to clean the mess he’s made on your skin, that you might have to take another trip to the shop this weekend—buy yourself a new little piece.

But later, then, he falls asleep with his head on your chest, fingers lazily toying with the lace of your bra (because he’s asked you to keep it on, you know—“Like how 't feels”), and so you move up your shopping a little—already on your phone, running your thumb to skim through pinks and blues, laces and silks.

You might just order a new one right now.

It’s at that moment that he shifts in his sleep, slipping his hand under the band of your lacy bra and curling his fingers around your breast.

You change your mind.

You might just order ten.

[dekariosclan]

Reactions to Astarion’s siblings attacking the camp

— — —

Everyone: Thank goodness we’re okay and that’s over with

Gale: This should’ve been sex :(

[ohohorla]

[bacchuschucklefuck]

three people who were going to three different concerts run into each others in an alley