#also i think being called sweet girl is the loveliest thing you could have called me

[mellifiedprincess]

anotha one😝 this fic is pure crack honestly, it’s not my best work and i was sleep deprived and wrote this in like 20 minutes, soooo keep that in mind. i also imagined the reader being super short in this, because i may have a wee bit of a size kink (don’t tell anyone🤭) but like how cute would ethan look with a partner that’s like 4’11 compared to his 6’1 ass. AGHHH I CANT

Ethan Landry x Reader

Nap time

Everyone who knew you, knew that there was only one thing in this world that could rival your love for Ethan. And that was napping. You couldn’t help that you were a sleepy girl. You were lucky enough too, that you could nap anywhere. Whether it be your head resting on a hard countertop, the lap of one of your friends, you were even found asleep on the stairs in your parents home once.

Unfortunately though, as of lately, you haven’t been able to sleep that well. And you knew exactly what the cause of this was from, well more of WHO the cause of this was from. Ethan fucking Landry. The boy with the loveliest doe eyes, the boy with the sweetest smile, the boy that stole your heart all those months ago and has told you he was never giving it back.

But he didn’t just steal your heart, no, he stole your ability of napping anywhere your little heart desired.

You couldn’t nap without him anymore.

Of course it wasn’t all his fault, you were the one to snuggle up to him, thinking you were only going to ‘rest’ your eyes for a few seconds. Those few seconds turned into two hours. You couldn’t help it. He was just so warm and smelled so good. It certainly didn’t help that he was running his fingers through your hair while softly humming in your ear. Anyone would have fallen under his spell and drifted off in minutes, if they had been in the position you were in. At least that’s what yoy keep telling yourself.

You had also, by now, convinced yourself he did all of it on purpose.

Which is why you’ve been glaring at him for the past seven minutes. You were sleepy, and all you wanted was to lay your sweet little head down and take a nap. But when your head hits the soft pillow on Ethan’s bed, you find yourself not able to fall asleep. You knew in your head all you needed to do was ask Ethan to come lay down with you, and he would. He would do absolutely anything you asked of him. But you were furious with him. Furious that his conspiracy against you has worked.

“Baby, we’ve talked about how you have to tell me when I’ve upset you, otherwise I won’t know how to fix it.” He wasn’t even looking at you, he had his back towards you while he worked at his desk. “I can quite literally feel the heat from your eyes, angel.” “Well my eyes would be closed and I would be fast asleep, taking my much needed nap if you wouldn’t have ruined them for me.” You grumble out, arms crossed, brows furrowed, adorable pout present.

He drops his pencil at that, confusion wasn’t a strong enough word to describe what Ethan felt. “How did I ruin your nap?” His voice raises an octave higher out of disbelief, and he finally turns to look at you. “I’ve been quiet this whole time and you have quite literally fallen asleep at frat parties before, where it was much more chaotic. I had to nearly tackle someone to stop them from sitting on you.”

“Don’t act like you don’t know what you did!” You yell as you jump up, standing on Ethan’s bed and pointing an accusing finger at him. His brown eyes widen, not sure if you’re just having one of your ‘moments’ as he likes to call them, or if you’ve actually lost your mind. “I don’t though, that’s why I asked you to tell me.” At his remark, you ball your fists up, throwing them down at your side, all while making the cutest grumbling sound.

Ethan stands from his chair, coming to stand in front of you at his bed. Since you’re standing on his bed, you’re looking down at him. His hands grab yours, unballing your “threatening” fists, and he’s pleading with his eyes. “Tell me what I did so I can make up for it.” After a few seconds you throw your head back with a loud groan, before dramatically falling forward to be caught by Ethan, wrapping your arms and legs around him completely. “I can’t nap without you.” You all but cry out, still holding a menacing stare as your forehead touches his.

He laughs. He laughs right in your face. “Stop laughing at me!” You push his face away from yours, squirming in his arms trying but failing to get away from him. “Awe, I’m sorry baby. What can I do to help?” To anyone else, he would sound patronizing, but you knew he genuinely was sorry and wanted to make you feel better.

“Don’t you need to finish your homework?” Your eyes glance over at the anatomy worksheet, and then back to Ethan. “Yeah, well I think my baby needs me more. So, I’m not worried about that right now.” You grin at his words, placing a sweet kiss to his lips, before pulling away pretending to look deep in thought. He already knows what you need, he also knows you’re just too scared to ask. All because you got in your own head about how dependent you’ve become of him. He loved it. He loved that you needed him just for the smallest of things like taking a nap.

“Do you want me to lay down with you while you nap? I’ll even hold your hand the entire time, if you want.” You giggle at that, already feeling much more relaxed. “What if I want to wrap myself around you like a koala? Would you let me do that?”

“You’re already the size of one, so why not?”

“Ethan!”

You’re pouting again, and he could only smile because you were just too fucking cute. “Okay! Okay! I’m done.” He pushes a few strands of hair out of your face, and grabs your chin, placing a few kisses to your pouted lips.

“Can we lay down now? You’ve been standing here holding me for like 10 minutes now, your arms have to hurt by now.”

“Baby.” He says with disbelief. “I’ve held you for way longer than 10 minutes, while we were doing something a lot more physically demanding.” Your cheeks immediately flush red at his words. Hiding your face in his neck. “Don’t get all shy on me now. You were just yelling at me 10 minutes ago about ruining your naps.” He couldn’t help but tease you, it was just too easy.

“Ethan, stop it.” You mumble out. He laughs again, but finally moves to sit you back down on his bed. You climb to the top, and wait for Ethan to join you. He goes to slip under the blanket with you, but you stop him. “No! You have to take your clothes off!” He holds his hands out in front of him, in a defensive manner. “Someone’s not so shy now. You need me to tire you out or something?”

You roll your eyes at your dumb boyfriend, and watch as he removes his tshirt and jeans. “I meant so I could sleep on you more comfortably, you perv!” “You’re calling me a perv, after asking me to strip and defile you?”

You open and close your mouth “I didn’t ask-“ You stop, exhaling sharply through your nose. “Please, E, just get in the damn bed.” “I’m coming, jeez!” Finally, he lays down beside you, and before you could move, he turns and wraps his arms around your body, an innocent grin on his pretty lips. And you can already feel your eyes grow heavy, as his fingers begin to trail up and down your spine and he presses soft kisses to your temple.

“Get some rest, sweet girl, because I will be defiling you when you wake up.” His tone is light and playful.

“Ethannn, can you stop being such a horny teenage boy for two seconds?” Your tone is annoyed. “Yeah, as long as you’re around, that’s not happening.”

“You’re such a whore.” Ethan laughs at your remark, squeezing you even closer, if possible, to his body. He’s finally quiet after that, besides the soft humming coming from his lips.

And he would never admit this to you, but he was having trouble sleeping without you by his side too. He loved the weight of you on his chest, the way your hair smelled. He especially loved when you would take his hand in yours, all while still sleeping, and hold it to your chest. You would hold it so tight sometimes he would lose feeling in his fingers.

He didn’t care though. Because he loved you and all of those things produced a warm, comfortable feeling he never received as a child.

So, he would lay there for hours, and watch the rise and fall of your chest, and listen to the soft snores leave your mouth. All without a single complaint.

[p0isonyouth]

hi sweet!! hope you’re having the most wonderful day! if there’s any room in your requests, I was wondering if I could request a letter from Spencer Reid? if I missed an announcement that these requests are closed now, please ignore this and accept my sincere apologies!! ♡

if you are still accepting requests, though, here’s some information you might need:

my name is Heather, I’m 5ft tall (so my head is level with Spencer’s chest BARELY and that’s not something I can think about at this time) with light blue, long wavy hair, grey eyes, I’m British a total film nerd. Doctor Who is my favourite show, The Terminator is my favourite movie - I have the script memorised and I’m not joking when I say that’s basically the only thing I can reliably remember, memory issues caused by trauma are, very much, unslay! due to what I went through during my childhood, I come across as a very bubbly, ditzy girl now and I take great pride in that, since I never had the freedom to enjoy life in such a way before, and I take being called a ‘silly girl’ as a genuine compliment :) I’m always excited about something, super easily distracted, very expressive, and empathetic to a fault - I can and will form sentimental attachments to inanimate objects and there’s not a force on Earth strong enough to stop me. a chair missing a leg? my son. I’ll take care of him. how much is that chair in the window. I’m also fiercely protective of everyone I care about and if I witnessed someone so much as giving Spencer a funny look I’d probably commit a small act of arson :)

for the letter itself, I was thinking maybe I’m part of the BAU but am on holiday and have returned to England to spend time with my family, so Spencer being the old-fashioned gentleman is all “I’m going to write my mutually-pining-best-friend a letter and post it across the sea instead of text her :)” - what do you think?

the only thing I would ask you please don’t mention is my biological father being involved in anything related to me spending time with my family, because he wouldn’t be.

anyway, so sorry for such a long message! thank you so much for reading it, I hope you have the loveliest rest of your day and that you find plenty that makes you smile today!! take care sweet ♡

Dear Heather,

Thank you for the prompt! I hope you have a lovely day as well and enjoy the read!

Sincerely,

Alyssa

Dear Heather,

I'm sure you're wondering why I'm writing you this letter, sending it all the way across the seas instead of sending you a text. it's just, some things are better said handwritten then in an electronic message.

How's England treating you? Say hello to your family for me, I'll try to go on the trip with you next time, it's just that Hotch didn't want two BAU agents out at the same time. I'm sure that we can convince him one way or another.

Back to my cryptic message above that I'm sure you're wondering about, my silly girl. I wanted to tell you this before you left, but I believe that writing it in a letter could possibly save me from some humiliation of rejection. I just can't stop thinking of you, Heather.

I promised myself that I wouldn't get too attached again with someone, in fear that they will leave or worse. But you've been by my side through all of it, and I couldn't be more thankful. With everything that has happened with Gideon, Maeve, JJ, and everything else, you're just there. I can't deny that I've always felt something for you, but I pushed it down because you matter too much to lose you over some feelings that are most likely one-sided.

Everything about you is simply mesmerizing, it's even too much to describe in words. Your laugh keeps my heart beating, your ability to memorize every line of the Terminator, the warmth of your body pressed to mine after a case. Every decision I make, I think about how it will affect you, I always have.

So, in case this letter gets lost at sea, I'm writing this down to tell you, Heather, my best friend, that I have feelings for you. And hopefully, you feel the same.

Meet me at our spot when you return home? We can talk about this in person.

All my love,

Dr. Spencer Reid

[canongf-archive]

(do NOT read until you’ve finished vol. 2!!)

liv. i just want to say that i’m sorry for your loss. i’ve been on your blog for a while now (and sent quite a few anon asks!) but nothing has ever seemed more important to say to you. i understand that now must be a *really* hard time for you, and i don’t know what else i can do besides offer comfort and sympathy. i want you to know that you’re an angel in the self-ship community and a bright spot in my life even though we’ve never officially talked. hang in there, sweet girl.

anon, reading this message is the first thing i did after the credits rolled last night. i saw the notification, i saw the first line, and i kept it close until the end of episode nine. i didn't even turn on the light first. and i have been trying to find the right words ever since.

you know when you're having a bad day and then you drop something? and maybe on any other day dumping your papers or spilling your bag wouldn't be a big deal but on that day it feels like the worst thing to happen. but then someone comes and kneels next to you on the ground and and helps you pick it all up. they straighten your papers and collect your things and they don't even care that they got their knees dirty for you. and you think "maybe things falling apart isn't so bad when there are people that are willing to stop and help you put them back together." that's what this ask feels like. it feels like having you kneel down and help hand all of my scattered pieces back to me.

i don't know if it's ever hurt like this before! there is something so special about him. so special about the way that i love him. and this loss is hitting me harder than i ever really expected it to. but it's also been really beautiful! it is beautiful to be able to feel things so deeply and to connect with people in this way, to be reminded that i am not alone in this. i am so grateful that you and i are able to exist on this earth at the same time. i am so lucky to have crossed paths with you.

thank you. thank you. thank you. it will never be enough. thank you. you didn't have to write to me but you did. i hadn't even posted anything about him yet. but you knew and you came to me anyway to offer me comfort and sympathy just for the sake of wanting to offer comfort and sympathy and i don't know if i will ever truly be able to express just how much that means to me. thank you for reaching out to me. not even just this time but thank you for every time that you've reached out to me, even when i didn't know it was you. thank you for thinking of me and caring about me and thank you for treating me with such warmth and kindness. thank you for being here. thank you for letting me be here. i love you, i love you, i love you. 💗💗💗

[elizabeth-mitchells]

What if when Deena kills Goode and the Shadyside curse is broken, all of the victims finally get to rest in peace, and they are all reunited?

Starting with Sarah, waking up to meet Hannah again. All the killers waking up, reunited with their loved ones. Everyone from 1666, 1978, 1994, waking up in some perfect place and then meeting each other and...

okay i wrote it

Sarah…

Sarah…

At first, there was only darkness, calling out her name.

“Sarah?”

The darkness started to bleed. Black gave way into powerful red. It was a familiar voice calling out her name.

“Sarah, dearest, wake up.”

Light started breaking through the red. A blue sky above was revealed, and then, the loveliest of faces. The woman she’d loved and died for.

“Hannah?”

“There you are,” Hannah smiled, as she continued to lovingly brush away the red moss covering all of Sarah’s body.

Sarah gasped for air, and jumped to a seated position. She took a deep breath. It felt like being born again. Soon, it registered there wasn’t an ounce of pain in her entire being. In fact, all she could feel was the warmth of the sun, the softness of the moss around her, and the tenderness of Hannah’s eyes.

“You’re finally here,” Hannah whispered in awe, placing a gentle hand in her bewildered lover’s cheek.

“Oh, Hannah, my love,” Sarah returned the gesture.

Then before wondering at all about explanations or reason or logic, Hannah pulled her in for a kiss. It felt exactly as Sarah remembered, and even better. Better than life itself, Hannah Miller’s kiss. When they had to pull away, due to Hannah’s growing smile and Sarah’s overwhelmed tremble of her entire body, they continued to rest their foreheads against each other until their breathing calmed down. “Hannah,” Sarah said, pulling back a little more to look around them, “What is this place?”

“Peace,” Hannah replied.

“What?” Sarah frowned. She stared at the ground, covered in that recognizable red shade as far as she could look. The trees, the large rock beside them, it was all familiar. “Where are we? Is this Union?”

Hannah shook her head softly. “It’s just… peace,” she insisted. There was no other way to explain it.

It appeared Sarah didn’t need to hear more. She exhaled a sigh of relief. Then her eyes met the love of her life again. “I’m so sorry it took me so long,” she apologized.

For the first time since their reunion, Hannah looked slightly less than blissfully happy. “It was nothing, Sarah. Time was meaningless without you,” Hannah stated with loving fierceness, “Eternity begins right now, with you, and only with you.”

Simultaneously they moved in for another kiss. Sarah’s instincts told her to keep kissing her lover. Danger could be around the corner. Threats. Neighbors. Evil. They had to make the most of whatever time they had. But… hadn’t they left all of that behind? Didn’t they win? That victorious feeling blossomed inside her chest and soothed her fervor. As the kisses slowed down, they found the strength to pull away from each other.

“Who did it?” Hannah wondered as her hands caressed Sarah’s hair. “Finally, who managed to break the curse?”

Immediately, Sarah grinned. “Two girls. Two wonderful, wonderful girls. I am sure you would have loved them. And their marvelous friends. And I pray we won’t see them around here for a long, long time.”

The two girls shared a blissful chuckle. “Good,” Hannah nodded.

There was a brief moment of silence then. Hannah studied Sarah. How terribly she had missed her all this time. How long had she waited for her lover to achieve her well-earned peace. And Sarah Fier wouldn’t have let herself rest until her entire land had also reached equal freedom. Sitting beside her, Sarah took a moment to look around them again.

“This is pretty,” Sarah commented about the red moss that covered the entire ground. She ran her hand over it and marveled at the lovely, perfect softness of it.

“You’re welcome,” Hannah replied with lips pursed into a playful smirk. It was true she had been the one to place the crown of red moss on her fallen savior’s head.

“The afterlife has made you even more playful, love,” Sarah lovingly accused her.

Hannah looked nothing but proud to hear that. It wouldn’t be paradise if they weren’t there laughing together. Suddenly, Hannah’s visible joy increased, and she turned eager to be on the move. “Follow me,” she said, standing up and offering her hand to the other girl.

“Where, my darling?” Sarah asked, despite the fact that was already standing up and willing to follow Hannah anywhere, to the ends of heaven and hell if necessary.

“There’s a lot I want to show you,” Hannah smiled. “They’re all coming here.”

“Who?”

Sarah was being led by the hand. Hannah looked over her shoulder at her with a brilliant smile that had been the light to inspire Sarah’s fight and therefore became the miraculous force behind the ultimate liberation from the curse. Hannah was all light, and hope, and love, and good news, for eternity.

“Everyone,” she replied.

--

Sarah and Hannah knelt behind a rock and looked on at the most wonderful sight.

“Henry?” Sarah exclaimed in a breathless whisper.

Hannah was holding her hand, and Sarah’s grip was so strong it nearly hurt, if they could hurt in that place. “And my dad,” Hannah added, “and everyone else.”

It was true. Not everyone had made it, but a group from Union was right there, happily wandering around the woods, stepping on the soft moss, exchanging fresh, delicious fruits, and talking to each other. Henry looked perfectly healthy and happy. He was talking with Lizzie and Isaac, the pair of friends were smiling brighter than ever. Pastor Miller looked as happy as a man could be, surrounded by children that looked all healed, that couldn’t feel nor remember any pain. The Berman sisters were there too. Abigail cried in relief and Constance made fun of her for it, while eagerly returning the embrace. A few feet behind them, the widow Mary was dancing with her husband and child.

“Look at them!” Sarah sighed, there were tears shimmering in her eyes. Joyful tears.

“You made this possible, you know?” Hannah told her.

Overwhelmed by her emotions, Sarah wrapped her arms around Hannah’s waist, and held tightly, perfectly safe and comforted by her lover’s arms wrapped over her shoulders, holding her close.

“What did you do?” Sarah wondered after a while of the two of them simply holding each other. “After… what happened with you?”

“I left,” Hannah replied simply. “I left, and Union separated in two. I was a widow, I decided, and our friends weren’t many, but eventually, we made a place for ourselves.”

“Shadyside,” Sarah smiled.

“Oh, have you heard about it?”

Sarah laughed at Hannah’s playfulness once more. “I have seen glimpses of it.”

“Then you will love what’s next.”

--

Hannah hadn’t been wrong. The more they walked around the woods, the more Sarah’s heart overflowed with joy. Everywhere around them were victims of the curse coming home, families reunited, lovers embracing, kids being kids.

A tall man taking off his mask, breathing freely for the first time in too long. A little boy being picked up by his loving parents. A man throwing his arms around his friends. No weapons on sight. Nobody a killer. They were who they always had been. Their loved ones remembered them as such. Forgiveness filled the air. They were free, and loved, and at peace. And there were more of them.

“Ruby!” Sarah exclaimed. It was her turn to drag Hannah by the hand as she rushed to take a closer look at the young girl. “She was so strong,” Sarah praised her, her voice trembling with emotion. The young Ruby Lane was running into the arms of her friends. There was no need to forgive. There was only forgetting the bad things that happened, things that weren’t the killer’s fault, for they weren’t killers but the first victims each time.

“Where’s her mother?” Hannah wondered.

“Not here yet,” Sarah replied, “By now she has probably heard the good news, I am sure. Last thing I heard, she has a good friend.”

“She will be welcomed by her daughter when her time comes,” Hannah added. “They will be eternally happy.” After thinking about it for a long moment, she looked at the love of her life with a proud smile. “You were looking after them, weren’t you?”

“I did my best,” Sarah looked down bashfully. “I’m not as strong as the curse. But I could nudge certain things to go the right way here and there.”

“You’re mistaken, my heart,” Hannah fondly shook her head. “If anything, you have proved you are stronger than even the Devil.”

Silently, Sarah lifted their joined hands to leave a kiss on the back of Hannah’s hand. She faintly wondered if this entire experience would consist of always being overcome by emotion. Her angel. Their friends, their people, the Shadysiders.

“This is... incredible,” Sarah sighed.

“It’s all thanks to you, Sarah Fier,” Hannah said.

“No…”

“Yes, of course it was you,” Hannah looked at her earnestly. “You kept your promise. You haunted the Goodes until you found someone that could help you break the curse. They couldn’t have done it without you.”

“And I couldn’t have done it without you,” Sarah replied with a trembling voice.

Hannah wouldn’t let her remain wistful too long though. “There’s more,” Hannah said, lighting up smiles in both their faces, as they resumed their journey across the woods.

--

“Oh! Hannah, look!” Sarah exclaimed, hurrying her pace as the couple neared the next clearing in the woods.

“Calm down, Sarah,” Hannah laughed fondly. When they were close enough, she stopped her, and wrapped her arms around her to keep her still. “We can’t meet them yet.”

“Why not?” Sarah wondered. She turned her face slightly to look at her lover, and seeing her face so close over her shoulder, she couldn’t help but place a sweet kiss on that inviting pair of lips.

Hannah blinked slowly. Life, death, and beyond, she would never be unaffected by Sarah’s affection. Finally, she smiled. “You will be famous, dear,” she said, “And I am not ready to share you yet.”

The two of them shared a laugh. Sarah seemed to accept that answer, and relaxed in Hannah’s arms. They rested their foreheads together and basked in the silence for a moment. It didn’t last long though. A loud yelp of surprise coming from somewhere nearby startled them.

“Oh, I’m happy to see her,” Hannah chuckled as the two of them moved closer and hid behind a tree to watch the scene in front of them unfold.

Cindy Berman stood up from the ground with a gasp, staring at her somehow not pristine polo shirt. “There’s still moss?!” she nearly yelled.

“Seriously, Berman? Even here?” teased a voice from behind her.

“Alice!” Cindy really yelled then. She jumped in the arms of the other girl and started peppering her face with kisses while Alice laughed loudly and happily, holding her close.

Observing them from a safe distance away, Sarah and Hannah shared an amused look. “They are a lovely pair,” Sarah whispered.

The blonde girl nodded, then asked Sarah, “How is her sister? The younger one?”

“Older now,” Sarah replied with an affectionate smile. “She is fine, and she will be doing better.”

“I hope she won’t be here any time soon. But that will be a reunion I will love to see,” Hannah added. They were watching as the realization dawned on Cindy Berman’s face. Her younger sister wasn’t there. Ziggy was alive. It was the best part of this entire moment for her.

A few steps behind Cindy and Alice, Arnie affectionately slapped Tommy Slater’s back. “Don’t worry man, you’ll get a hug too,” he said.

The blonde guy chuckled. He glanced at his hands, as if expecting an axe to still be there. Seeing himself free, he took a look around. They were surrounded by a group of children in their blue t-shirts. At first, they looked confused, dazed, but they quickly gained their footing. They started running around, openly laughing while a couple of teenagers almost chased after them to protect them, carrying the instinct of old camp counselors with them. They weren’t in danger though. There was nothing to fear. Everyone greeted each other with smiles, and Tommy smiled the brightest.

--

“Oh…” Sarah breathed out. She was delighted to see so many people reunited, but it didn’t come without a heavy weight on top of it. “So many children…”

“I know,” Hannah agreed. She kept a hand on Sarah’s shoulder, offering silent support. Noticing this, Sarah placed one of her hands atop Hannah’s. They’d missed each other. She felt she needed to be touching the other girl at all times.

“Why… How was so much cruelty possible? So much horror,” she wondered out loud.

“It was the devil’s work, Sarah,” Hannah did her best to reply. “It wasn’t human. Nobody here was ever cruel. And the horror is all over now.”

“It is?”

“It is,” Hannah promised. Her hand had moved to Sarah’s face, and with the back of her fingers, she tenderly caressed the girl’s cheek.

Sarah took her time breathing in and out. Staring at the love of her life, as alive as she ever knew her. Breathing in and out. The ethereal world around them, perfectly real. Breathing in and out. Her racing heart had barely calmed down enough when she was startled by a sound of rustling leaves coming from behind her. “What was that?” She asked in a tense whisper.

“Do not be scared, Sarah,” Hannah replied quickly. “There is no evil here. nothing to hunt us anymore.”

“No threats?” Sarah wondered, staring at Hannah with a small frown on her face.

“No fear,” Hannah reassured her.

“No hate?” Sarah inquired, though this time a small smile was growing on her lips.

“Nothing but peace.”

“And joy?”

“And love,” Hannah grinned. Then, seeing as she couldn’t find a reason not to, she leaned in forward quickly to steal a small kiss. “And friendship,” she playfully added. She took Sarah’s hand in hers once more to lead her to a new spot. “Take a look.”

--

There, with his hands behind his back as if afraid of himself, Ryan Torres was repeatedly apologizing to his friend. Heather was tearing up, shaking her head and dismissing his apologies. Her hands had been on his shoulders, but she soon pulled him into a warm hug. Nervously at first, he eventually reciprocated the embrace, carefully holding her close as she whispered soothing words to him. A few steps away from them, staff from the mall, and the hospital, and the police station were sharing awe-struck conversations. The heavenly spectacle of watching old friends come together, victims open their eyes again, friendship being born in the afterlife… it was all a mesmerizing sight. Sarah believed she could have spent a good portion of eternity simply staring at the people around her.

That’s when Sarah and Hannah were startled by a pair of voices coming from nearby. They simply had to move closer to get a better look at them.

“How does my hair look?”

“Aren’t you dead?”

“Yes, idiot. But how’s my hair?”

“It’s fine!” Simon laughed, accepting the hand Kate was offering him to pull him up from the ground.

He didn’t waste a single second wrapping his arms around her and holding her as closely as possible. Kate pressed her face to his chest, closed her eyes tightly, and didn’t even try to hide her smile. The two best friends enjoyed the embrace for a while, and eventually pulled away slowly. They brushed away the red moss that lingered on their clothes and slowly started taking a look around them.

“Where are we?” Simon wondered.

Kate didn’t really hear him, though. She’d seen something that stopped her in her tracks. “Deena?” Kate blurted out.

“Sam?” Simon exclaimed, equally as surprised.

Realizing they’d been caught, Sarah and Hannah hid behind a tree. They shared a look, wide eyes, and guilty smiles. A second later, they were running away, hand in hand, to avoid causing a confusion, for the time being. When they were safely away from most curious eyes, right in the middle of their gorgeous, red-tinted forest, they stopped. They had been laughing the entire time. They came together at once for a new kiss, familiar and exhilarating at once. Their hands lovingly cradling each other’s faces. A perfect embrace. A love that resisted life and death and three hundred years in between. They could kiss forever, until the end of times, and even then, with souls intertwined, their love would last longer than time itself.

All around them, love continued to blossom. There was the red moss, spreading further and further away from the spot where they stood, welcoming more and more souls. The freed victims were starting to leave the spots where they woke up, they were starting to explore. All over there were stories intertwining, timeliness melting into one, friendships being born. People were confused, and shocked, and fascinated by everything around them. Cindy Berman met Abigail and Constance. Tommy Slater shared a hug with Ruby Lane. Heather started a conversation with Alice. Pastor Cyrus Miller carried Billy Barker on his shoulders. Ryan Torres shook hands with Harry Rooker. Isaac met Simon, and Kate met Lizzie. Ruby Lane’s friends joined the Camp Nightwing’s counselors. Parents found their children, friends were reunited, lovers found each other, everyone searched and found new friends and people they had lost, and some of them patiently waited for the distant future where they’ll meet again the ones they left behind. Tales from the seventeenth century met myths from the eighteenth, legends from the nineteenth, and songs from the twentieth century. Every now and then, somebody made a joke about a certain family that wasn’t present, and would never be. Even the trees, the leaves, and moss at their feet seemed to laugh and rejoice in the Goode’s absence.

At the center of it all, Sarah Fier and Hannah Miller remained. They kissed, they laughed, they danced, they held each other, and their love continued to shine strong enough to sustain a land of pure and absolute peace that would last forever.

[halloweenhoneylover]

the struggle bus

summary: spencer is the kindest human alive, which makes things tough for the reader :/ (spencer reid x fem!reader)

word count: 5.3k (a doozy kinda!)

warnings: i guess angst, but really just idiots in love (my fav trope). reader is kind of a hot mess. also, mention of overdose via multivitamin.

author’s note: hi, it’s been approx 4000 years since i last posted, but it’s just because i have no concept of ‘efficiency’ or ‘speed.’ but it’s okay. some of this is good, some of this is eh, make of that what you will. also, this is supposed to be #funny sometimes so uhhhh, keep that in mind. ALSO, the title is majorly stupid, but it was the title of the google doc, and i couldn’t think of anything else......anyways, love u!

For once, the bullpen was quiet.

Spencer was immersed in some case file, doing some work that you should have probably been doing as well, but it was approaching the late hours of the night, and you would barely be able to keep your eyes open if you came even close to trying to read or write. Your desks were situated against each other, so you shifted your gaze across the small divider to him. His sharp features were softened in the lamplight, a sight that tugged on your heartstrings, and you took a moment to just look at him. Most everyone else was gone or was too focused on getting their work done to pay attention to your reverie. Derek, if he were here, would dub you as ‘lovesick’ and shoot mischievous smirks and wiggling eyebrows in your direction, but luckily for you, he was not. Twisting carelessly in your chair with your feet propped on the desk, you chewed absentmindedly on a pen, lost deep in thought. “Hey, Spencer?”

“Yeah?” He continued scribbling on the file without so much as a glance towards you, but that was perfectly fine by you, more time for not-creepy staring.

“How many of my vitamins do you think I could eat before I died?”

At this, he furrowed his brow and neatly laid his pen down.

“That depends on what vitamin you’re taking. If you’re talking about iron supplements, the limit is somewhere around 20mg of elemental iron per kilogram of body weight. Any more than that will have incredibly unpleasant side effects like abdominal pain, persistent vomiting, rapid breathing, and coma. However, if you’re talking about Vitamin C, it’s virtually impossible to overdose, but you might get a bad headache if you supersede 2000 mg.”

“Okay, what about my gummy vitamins?”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “While it still depends on what vitamins are included, eating a whole bottle of your typical multivitamin could easily result in death.”

You mulled this over. “So, I should definitely not go home and eat the rest of my gummy vitamins tonight?”

Spencer chuckled, “I’m not a medical doctor, but yes, I’d recommend that you don’t do that.”

Tossing your head back and letting out a small groan, you protested, “But Spencer, my gummy vitamins taste so good! And I have no food at home, so I guess I either die by overdose on gummy multivitamins or starvation.”

He couldn’t help but grin at your melodrama. It could be 12:06 in the morning, and you could still somehow make him laugh. He was starting to understand that he was in too deep, but he also had the startling realization that he didn’t mind drowning if it was in you. 

“You’ve got quite the predicament on your hands there, (Y/N). Maybe you should go grocery shopping with me the next time I suggest it, so you don’t end up in this situation again.”

“Oh my god, dude!” you moaned. “I told you I was actually busy; I had to take Oscar to the vet for his vaccines! I try to be a good mother to my dog, and you know I’m not an anti-vaxxer. I’d never decline time with my favorite guy without a good reason.”

Spencer’s heart was doing somersaults at the thought of him being your favorite guy. He’d won plenty of awards and medals in his lifetime, but somehow, none of those measured up to the accomplishment of being your favorite. Pride and butterflies boiled in his stomach. 

“Alright, fine, I’ll let it slide this time.”

You snorted, “I appreciate your unmatched benevolence, Dr. Reid.” Locking eyes with him, you tried to dampen the lava flow of heat in your chest that erupted when he looked at you with the softest expression you’d ever seen, but you failed miserably. You had to clear your throat and look away; it was becoming all too much. “Hey, I’m gonna run to the restroom. Don’t leave without me!”

As you dashed away, a thought crossed Spencer’s mind, and he stood up and set off down the opposite hallway.

You returned a few minutes later to an empty bullpen which made you frown, and your heart sank. You had thought he was going to wait, but guess not. Sighing, you tried to not let it sting too badly when you noticed a light on in JJ’s office. You knocked and pushed the already ajar door with a quick hello? before being met with an exhausted-looking JJ.

“Hey, (Y/N). I thought everyone had left by now.”

“Nope, not quite yet,” you replied, offering a weak smile. JJ noticed and wrote it off as fatigue. “You didn’t happen to see Spencer leave a couple minutes ago, did you?”

“Uh, no, I thought he’d gone too.”

“Hm, okay, thanks anyway!”

You prepared to leave, but she stopped you, cocking her head. “Why do you ask? Is he still here?”

Leaning your head against the doorframe, you sighed. “I’m not sure. He was here when I went to the bathroom, but he wasn’t at his desk when I came back. I’m a little disappointed. We always walk out together because we’re both afraid of the parking garage at night.”

A grin simmered on JJ’s face at that fact. “Well, I could walk you out if you’d like?”

“Nah, that’s okay; I don’t want to bother you.”

There was something behind JJ’s eyes you couldn’t identify as she replied, “Alright, then. Just let me know if you change your mind.” She definitely wasn’t thinking about how you didn’t want her intruding on a you-and-Spencer tradition. Not that she minded! She’d been rooting for you both since the minute you’d stepped into the BAU, and Spencer had looked like he was about ready to melt into the floor at the sight of such a pretty girl.

“Thanks, Jayje.”

Dragging your feet a little, you made your way back to your desk to gather your things, trying to fend off the disappointment. You had gotten your jacket on and were about to pick up your bag when you heard a (Y/N)! from down the hall. Well, that was certainly not JJ. Hesitantly, you called out, “Spencer?”

He finally emerged with his arms loaded with...something, you couldn’t discern what in the dim light. His face lit up like the Vegas strip when he saw you. “(Y/N)! I didn’t want you starving or eating all of your vitamins, so I went down to the vending machine and got you a couple snacks!” Arriving at his desk, he dropped the various bags and packets on his desk, and your eyes widened immensely.

“A couple? Dude, did you buy out the whole machine?”

Slightly breathless from his quick jog back, he waved a dismissive hand. “It was nothing. And hey, look!” He picked up a bag. “Fruit snacks! Just like your vitamins, but without the part where you get really sick.”

You were astonished, to say the least. And minorly speechless too, as evidenced by your mouth that was gaping like a fish. “Spencer...this is so nice. You really didn’t have to.”

“Don’t worry about it; I’m sure you would’ve done the same for me.”

At that, your face nearly split in two, and he mirrored your grin. You thought you might pass out at his kindness, and you knew you’d be thinking about this every day for the next two weeks at least. Your expression then turned mischievous, as you tried to tamp down all of the warmth bubbling in your stomach. “Do you want to help me try to fit all this in my bag?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

——— 

Garcia had been practicing her ukulele peacefully when she got the call.  (Well, ‘peacefully’ might have been a stretch as she had threatened to smash the object on her coffee table when she simply could not get the finger picking pattern she’d practiced for what seemed like hours, but it was supposed to be a relaxing hobby, so yes, it was peaceful.) Huffing a sigh of relief when the caller ID said [(Y/N/N)!!] with the longest stream of heart emojis and not [hotch >:( ], she picked up with her usual air of cheer. “What can I do ya for, my loveliest, most bewitching—”

She was cut off abruptly by the sounds of your horrible, heart-wrenching sobs, and her brows furrowed in concern. “Oh no, my sweet! What’s wrong?” She had to wait a few moments for your tears to calm (somewhat) while you tried to wrangle in your breath, so you could form some sort of sentence.

“Penny!”—gasp—“Oh my God,”—hiccup—“it looks so bad!” With your last word, you tumbled into incoherent bawling once again.

“Dear, what looks so bad?” She held her phone between her ear and her shoulder as she began to gather up her things. Whatever was wrong, it was clear you needed some good, old-fashioned Garcia TLC, and she was ready to give it.

The sniffling subsided minorly, and you choked out, “Remember when we were talking the other day, and I mentioned that my hair had gotten a little too long for my liking?” Oh no, Garcia could see where this was going. “Well, I figured I’d spend our evening off getting my hair cut, and I went to that new hairdresser, and oh Penelope, it looks awful. I don’t think I can ever go out in public again.” With that, your tears resumed.

“Darling, you know I’ve been where you are, and I know it seems bad right now, but everything will be fine. Let me grab my scissors and I’ll be over faster than you can say, ‘Penny, I love you so much, you truly are my fairy godmother.’”

You paused before whispering into the phone, “Penelope, I do love you so much, and you are my fairy godmother. But please, hurry.”

And hurry, she did.

Garcia was knocking on your door a little over five minutes later, which was incredibly suspicious because she lived at least 10 minutes away on a good day, but in the state of your disarray, you were not inclined to care. She sat you down on the toilet in your bathroom, whipping out her hair care set (she had definitely spent a significant amount of time dabbling in cosmetology, and it was desperate times like this when it came in handy). Squeezing your eyes shut through most of it, she snipped here and there, trying to make the best of this...horribly atrocious cut (seriously, that hairdresser should be sued), and when she was finished, it was not as bad as when they started, but it still wasn’t great. The rest of the evening was spent watching cheesy rom-coms and baking in an attempt to get your mind off of your hair.

Everything was mostly fine until the next morning, when you realized you’d have to go into work like this, and as terrifying as that prospect was in a normal work environment, you also worked in a place with an abnormal amount of hot people. (And you happened to be developing feelings for one of those hot people, but your brain was insistent upon ignoring that for the time being.)

Already anticipating your worries, Penelope had sent a text without your knowledge to a BAU group chat that excluded you (she had one of these for every member, it just made surprise birthday party planning so much easier).

[penelope :)] please DO NOT MENTION (Y/N)’S HAIR!!!! she got a bad haircut and she feels really terrible about it and doesn’t want to think about it so do not talk about it!!!

[jennifer!] Oh, no! :( Lips are sealed!

[rossi ;)] rip.

Emerging from the elevator in the nicest work outfit you own (an attempt to distract from the monstrosity), you scurried to Garcia’s lair before anyone could see you. Once inside, you slammed the door shut, and leaning against it, you slid down and covered your face with the files in your hands. “Pennyyyyy,” you moaned. “I don’t think I can do this!”

She swiveled to face you with a look of empathy. “Sugar, I know you can. It—it doesn’t even look that bad!” But Garcia was a horrible liar, and if looks could kill, she would have been dead instantaneously. 

Heaving yourself up off the floor, you came to sit in the seat next to her. “Can’t I just work in here today? And maybe for the rest of time?”

“You know I would love that, but those other lovely people on our team need you! Especially the young doctor, you know he’d be lonely without you.”

As if her mention had summoned him, Reid opened the door to their secret meeting, files in hand, and your eyes nearly jumped out of their sockets. Garcia stared at him very intensely, attempting to telepathically tell him to not mention the hair, and you looked like a deer in the headlights, trying to figure out a way to hide yourself from him and possibly the entire universe. And poor Reid shifted his gaze between the two of you, helplessly confused as to what he had walked into. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Uh, no!” Garcia said in the least convincing manner.

“Okay,” he responded, not convinced in the slightest. “I just came to give you some files from Hotch.” So, he handed Garcia the papers and then turned to leave when you caught his eye. 

And because he was not the greatest with technology, Spencer had not checked his phone that morning…. Meaning he had not seen Garcia’s text. So he looked at you a moment and cocked his head. “Your hair looks really nice today, (Y/N). Did you get it cut?”

This time, it was Garcia’s turn to glare (because read your texts, dammit!), and you fumbled for a response. As you scanned his face, searching for a sign that he was lying, that he was just saying something to make you feel better, you came up empty. He was telling the truth. He genuinely thought your hair looked nice. “Um, uh—yeah. Yeah, I did. Thanks for noticing.”

“You’re welcome.” He offered you a smile, which you returned easily (a fact that surprised you). “See you.” Retreating from the office because the vibes in there were weird, he shut the door, finally leaving you and Garcia alone again. 

You were reeling.

You thought about when you had gotten dressed that morning, and you had entertained each outfit with great scrutiny, trying to come up with something that might draw attention away from your hair. In that half hour you’d spent, you had realized that you didn’t really mind looking bad in front of Morgan or Emily or Hotch or really anyone on the team. Almost anyone. With an increasing amount of discomfort, you had realized you didn't want to look bad in front of Spencer. Of course, he’d never judge you, but you wanted to look good for him. For your best friend.

And he told you your hair looked nice.

You smiled to yourself.

Garcia turned to you with a look of shock on her face. Had that been anyone else, she was sure you would have curled up in a ball beneath her desk and would not have left until every single other person had left the Federal Bureau of Investigation, but you hadn’t, and she smirked.

Oh, she knew where this was going.

——— 

To put it lightly, it had not been the best of mornings. 

It seemed that everything that could’ve gone wrong did, so you burst past the glass doors of the BAU six minutes late with a coffee-covered shirt, mud-stained pants, soggy shoes, and a most miserable attitude. Hotch, while a sympathetic man, was still your boss with rules to follow and when you stumbled into the bullpen, gave a pointed stare between you and the clock, and you nodded sullenly. You understood his silent admonition, but knowing that he was even slightly disappointed in you, made your knees want to buckle. Swallowing around the slug in your throat, you set your bag down beside your chair and noticed a foreign object sitting on your desk. Interest thoroughly piqued, you reached forward to find it was a book with a satin ribbon tied on it.

It truly was a beautiful book with a deep crimson hardcover and the kind of deckled edges that you loved. Running your fingers along the rough-hewn pages, you finally noted the title, and you gasped. Beloved by Toni Morrison. Your favorite. The cursive words curved in black on the cover to match the ribbon, and you carefully traced the curling letters, wondering where this gorgeous book could have come from.

In the desk across from yours, Spencer watched the scene in front of him with a grin. He couldn’t help but feel pleased at the look of awe on your face as you inspected the book with careful fingers and a gentle gaze, and his heart swelled more and more the longer he looked. “Did you know that Margaret Garner, the woman the character Sethe is based on, her trial was used as part of an effort to dismantle the Fugitive Slave Act?” Your eyes flickered up to meet his, and those stupid freaking butterflies erupted in the pit of your stomach as you realized who had gifted you the book. “The presiding judge didn’t accept her lawyer’s argument that the act violated the right to religious freedom, but it was still somewhat of a turning point in the movement to strike down the law.”

“I did not know that, but thank you. For the fact and the book.”

“You’re welcome.” He had to avert his eyes from your strong gaze because he thought he might melt otherwise.

“Please don’t misinterpret this as me being ungrateful because I’m so, so thankful, but why?”

He shrugged, “I was just in the book store, and it made me think of you.” No, he didn’t keep an eye out specifically for this book on his weekly trip to the bookstore by his apartment after you had briefly mentioned your love of Ms. Morrison’s metaphors. And he definitely didn’t ask the owner Alice if she would let him know if she ever got any new copies.

Frankly, you were at a loss for words. Combing back through your conversations with him, you tried to remember when you had talked about the book, but you couldn’t come up with anything other than a couple words tossed briefly here and there. Suppose it wasn’t really the fact that he had heard, but the fact that he had listened. He listened and remembered things about you, little things tucked in the back of his brain, and it was how he thought about you even when you weren’t around. So, you clutched the book to your chest tightly as if it could meld with your heart and let your thoughts rage with the implications for a minute before smothering your mushy grin and tucking the book into your bag.

(Later, you pulled it out on your ride home on the metro. Spencer had already gotten off at his stop a few minutes before, so you took this moment of solitude to revel in the glory of your new gift. Every time you smoothed a hand over the cover, your mind was overwhelmed with what-ifs. What if he felt the same? What if his stomach rumbled with the same butterflies when you looked at him? What if this means he likes you as more than…. And abruptly, you were doused in doubt once again, muzzling those dangerous, rearing hypotheticals. This was a path that would only lead to disappointment.

Those thoughts only got worse when you read his inscription, though:

Dear (Y/N/N),

I hope you find great joy in reacquainting yourself with the graces of Ms. Morrison’s elegant prose in this new copy. I was inspired by your praise and read this classic again, and I can say that I definitely understand your veneration of her story-telling. Hopefully, we can discuss it soon, so I can try to see all of the details that you so admire. You are always much better at appreciating the finer things in life.

She says that, “something that is loved is never lost.”

I hope you know that you will never be lost to me.

Sincerely,

Spencer

(P.S. I wrote this in pencil, so you can erase and have the clean copy you wanted.)

You would never erase it.)

——— 

“Hey, are you alright?”

You sat at your desk with your head in your hands. Your responding “no” came out muffled. 

Spencer frowned and sat on the edge of your desk. “Is there anything I can help with?”

Running your hands over your face, you finally met his gaze. His eyes were soft as they searched your own, and the expression on his face was not of pity or frustration but empathy, and of course, he was just being his sweet self. Your eyes watered in response, and his heart clenched at the sight. You shifted your eyes somewhere else, anywhere else. “Uh, no.”

It was clearly a lie.

Furrowing his brows at your obfuscation, he scanned your face for any indication of what might be the problem. A small sigh. He came up with nothing. “Alright,” he conceded hesitantly. “May I ask what is wrong?”

“No.”

“Okay.”

You stared down at the files neatly ordered on your desk, trying to mentally shoo him away with the sheer force of your willpower alone. But Spencer Reid was a stubborn man, and you knew this, and you also knew he wasn’t leaving until he knew you were alright. So, you both sat in the silence of the bullpen that only accompanied the arrival of midnight. The glow of your lamp bathed the vicinity in a warm yellow, and the tick of the nearby clock rattled around your chest as you attempted fruitlessly to subdue your incessant thoughts. He was close enough that you could hear the soft susurration of his exhales as his eyes flitted about the room to give you some sort of breathing room, and you shut yours for a moment to appreciate this moment of peace before the inevitable catastrophe to follow.

“I’m—uh, not okay.”

Finally turning back to you with a mildly surprised expression (he didn’t expect you to say anything so soon. Or so bluntly.), he offered you one of his signature tight-lipped smiles as encouragement to continue.

“I’m kind of really struggling…” you trailed off, gaze empty, ensnared in your thoughts.

Ever the gentleman with persistence that could last a thousand years, he gently prompted, “With…?”

A strong gulp and eyes squeezed shut. “With you.”

Well, that was not the answer Spencer was expecting. He felt like he’d had the wind knocked out of him, and he was hollow and shaken and in pain. Gaping, he fumbled hopelessly for an answer, trying to find some reason you could be upset with him. He had always thought you two were the best of friends; he’d never doubted that before. How could he have missed this?

Swallowing hard against the lump in his throat, he strained to ask, “Uh—um, what—what did I do?”

Upon witnessing his struggle, you quickly amended your previous statement. “No, no, no, no, no! I’m not mad at you, well, I kind of am, but you don’t need to feel bad, it’s not your fault.”

“I’m not really sure what to make of that.”

You huffed a sigh and covered your face with your hands in a poor attempt to try to hide the blush rapidly coloring your cheeks. “I’m sorry, I just—you’re so nice!”

Now Spencer was really confused. “You’re mad at me...because you think I’m nice?”

“Yes, Spencer! You’re so nice, and it makes me incredibly frustrated. You see this?” You picked up a book from your desk and waved it frantically. A little intimidated by your crazed look, he nodded timidly. “Do you recognize this book?”

“It’s a special edition of Beloved by Toni Morrison.”

“It’s the special edition of my favorite book that you bought for me because you know how much I love this book.”

Spencer looked like a deer in the headlights. “You always said that your book at home was so messy with your annotations and that a fresh copy would have been nice.”

“You didn’t even buy it for my birthday or a special occasion! You just saw it in the store and said that you thought of me and had to buy it. That’s so unbelievably thoughtful! Not to mention the fact that I can barely look at fruit snacks now without tearing up. And—and the other day! When I got my haircut, I hated it, but I came in the next day, and you were the first person to tell me you liked it. You weren’t even lying to make me feel better; I’m a profiler, and I know that you were telling the truth. And it took no effort or thought because Spencer, you are the most kind-hearted and compassionate and generous person I’ve ever met. You are so—so genuinely good. 

“No, you are the best. You are the best person I know,” you stated with finality, holding his stare with an unshakeable firmness. It was the first time you truly looked at him all night, and his heart felt like it was going to expand past his ribcage and burst open like a balloon. Your resolve melted though and your voice dropped to a near whisper. “And you’re not just nice. You’re nice to me. Which just makes it so hard.”

You deflated, withering into your seat.

“Makes what hard?”

“It makes it so much harder for me to not fall in love with you.”

Stunned silence. 

Until it was shattered by a hiccup, and Spencer finally noticed the tears leaking from the corner of your eyes, and he tried, he tried so hard to puzzle through all of this new information and the fact that you just admitted you’re falling in love with him, and for some reason, you’re crying? He couldn’t even get his stupid genius brain to come with a single word before you started stumbling into an apology. “I know that’s not what you want to hear because we’re supposed to be friends, and I know that you’re just a good person, so you’re nice to everyone. Believe me, I know. And I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable, but I couldn’t keep holding on to this by myself, and I knew if anyone would let me down easy, it’d be you.” You chewed on your lip and avoided his stare at all costs. “So, I’m sorry.” You sniffled. 

The quiet that followed weighed heavy on your chest, and you couldn’t seem to breathe. You had expected rejection; you hadn’t expected complete silence. And this was somehow so much more unbearable. In a voice so faint you weren’t even sure if he could hear, you begged, “Please say something.”

A beat.

“(Y/N), I love you.”

A whisper just barely verging on hopeful, “What?”

“(Y/N), I—I love you so much.” His heart felt like it was in his throat, and his voice broke slightly as he stood. “You’re the first person I think about when I get up in the morning, and you’re the last person before I fall asleep. I dread going home at the end of the day because you’re not there. When you’re not with me, even if you’re in the other room, it feels like I’ve forgotten something, and for the longest time, I couldn’t figure out what I was missing, but it was you. You consume my every thought, which is saying something because I think a lot. Actually, it’s kind of funny,” he chuckled somewhat morosely, “I truly cannot comprehend the fact that you don’t know how much I’ve liked you, how long I’ve loved you because it feels like it’s so obvious and so potent that it seeps out of me, whether I want it to or not.

“And I’m nice to you because no one else is more deserving of kindness. I’d be lucky if you let me be the one to remind you of that, everyday. Because you’re the best person I know.” You looked up at him with shining eyes and the meagerest beginnings of a smile, and he just beamed right back. With a creased brow, he ventured, “You’re my favorite person in the world, you know that, right?

Failing to suppress your growing grin, you nodded your head meekly. “Yeah, I know.”

“Good.”

Spencer felt pleased with himself until he remembered that he had forgotten the most important part. “Would you like to get dinner with me sometime? Like a date?”

Standing from your seat, you wrapped your arms around his neck and burrowed your face into his chest, and he immediately reciprocated, clutching you as close as he could. “I would love that.” It came out muffled, but he understood well enough as he pressed his face into your neck. And you stood like that for a few moments, just existing together, and for the first time in a long time, nothing hurt. There was no worry of unrequited yearning or pain of terrible pining; there were just two people who finally knew peace. Knew that the person they loved most in the world loved them back. Neither ever wanted to leave.

However, sometimes necessary duties like breathing take precedence, so you pulled back from him enough to finally claim some air. Your hands slid down his front, resting on his chest, his on your waist, and you just stared at him. The most beautiful face you’d ever seen looking right back at you with the same expression of awe that made you realize just how lucky you were. And slowly, hesitantly, you both leaned in ever so slightly with heads wavering and tension buzzing. Gingerly and sweetly. Neither could commit, but no one could pull away from fast-approaching revelation. 

Finally, a breath away.

“Can I kiss you?”

You nodded.

When your lips met, your chest heaved with your eager, romantic hopes and dreams bubbling up near your lungs, finally coming to fruition. His hands came up to caress your jaw, and you leaned into him. His touch was so gentle, but he also touched you with intention. For once in his life, Spencer Reid felt no hesitation, kissing the girl of his dreams. And you felt held by him. You were bursting at the seams of your existence, swollen with infatuation and tenderness, yet totally and completely encompassed by him. You could shatter into a million tiny, little pieces, and he would be there to collect every shard. How cheesy.

Both of you grinned into the kiss; the sickly sweet itch in your heart was contagious. You finally released him, and wanting to savor the moment, you tucked yourself into the crook of his neck, so his chin could rest on the crown of your head. “I love you a lot, Dr. Reid.”

He hummed in agreement.

It didn’t need saying.

[willyoulovemeinthemorning]

The Prodigal Daughter Chapter 2/?

Story Summary: As the secret daughter of Jason Gideon, you’ve always had a certain proclivity towards profiling. After finishing the Academy, you finally have your chance in the BAU- only months after your dad’s passing. Will it all be too much? Will you find yourself sharing another proclivity with your father for a certain genius with big puppy dog eyes? A/N: Thank you all for the amazing response to the first chapter! This one came quickly and I just couldn't stop writing it! I can’t believe people asked to be tagged in this already, but I guess if you want to be tagged, let me know in the comments! shoutout to @candlesandsoftrain for beta-ing! Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader
 Category: Fluff/getting to know you games with the team Content Warning: So much tension, mildly grumpy Spencer, sexually charged drinking games, etc. Later chapters will include NSFW Word Count: 7000+ (Sorry it really got away from me!)

Previous Chapter

Chapter 2

The rest of the day passed by with a lot of questions, a lot of pilfered off paperwork from each member of the team- it was your turn to help out with all there was to do today. Newbie had to be inducted somehow. Reid was the only one that didn’t offer you any of his- it probably had something to do with the fact that even though his pile was significantly larger than anyone else’s, he was getting through it almost at triple the speed. Dad had mentioned something about his quick reading skills, but you couldn’t remember the exact number of words he could read a second. That was a question you could ask him later, you reminded yourself.

Once Hotch’s voice sounded through the room signaling that it was time to head out for everyone, you could feel the energy in the room change. It was palpable. They clearly hadn’t gotten a chance to have a fun time with each other in a while.

You stood up and gathered your things slowly, letting everyone slowly filter out of the office. You had decided that you wanted to keep Dad's notebook in your go bag so you’d always have him with you on cases, but now as you had a moment alone, you slipped an old family picture of Dad, Stephen and yourself into your desk drawer, hiding under your files and paperwork. A little piece to always be here, in the bullpen, where he belonged.

You wiped a tear from your eye, and as you grabbed your bag to get going, you noticed Spencer watching you from the door. You smiled sheepishly at him. “Sorry, you didn’t have to wait for me. I just… wanted to take in the end of my first day. I’ve been waiting for this day a very long time. Didn’t think it would be quite this… uneventful, as far as BAU standards go, but I’m actually glad it was.” You said to him as you got closer, noticing him clutching his messenger bag.

Shrugging, he held the door open for you. “It’s not a problem. They get horse blinders when they finally get to go out together and forget that maybe some people don’t know where to go.” He pushed the button for the elevator. In this moment, you remembered what you’d said about comfortable silence. It was nice to be here with him, the hum of the AC around you, the sound of Spencer picking at something at the strap on his bag. You closed your eyes for a moment and took it all in… you could smell his cologne, he was so close to you. And something very reminiscent of… old books? He really must live in an apartment just surrounded by books.

“Thanks for waiting for me. I probably would have just called Unc-” You stopped yourself, hoping he didn’t notice. “Dave, if I got left behind. Since trying to go home would have resulted in being yelled at by him for a while.” You both entered the elevator, and he turned and looked at you as he pressed the button to go down to the ground floor.

“Dave?” He asked, eyebrow raised.

You blushed, shrugging. “I’ve known him for a long time. He’s a good family friend… through my mom. They knew each other when they were young.” God, you hated lying, but it was only a little bit of a lie. Your mom and Rossi DID know each other well, and they have known each other a long time. But Uncle Dave wasn’t a part of your circle because of your mom.

Spencer looked like he noticed the slight change in your tone, but he was polite enough not to press you for more. “Okay So the bar- it’s called The Greasy Pub and it’s on 7th. I’ll meet you there? I take the bus, so I’ll be a little later than everybody else.” He said, shifting his weight from side to side on his feet.

Your brows knit together, and you looked at him a little confused. “Why didn’t you hop in with someone else?”

The cutest blush stained his cheeks. “I have an eidetic memory, and I can remember what it felt like to be the new kid on this team like it happened yesterday. I hope to never let anyone feel the anxiety and fear of being left out like I did. I was also only 24 at the time, and was the youngest BAU member ever, so that didn’t help.”

More touched than you could lead on, you touched his bicep and squeezed it. “Thank you, that’s incredibly kind of you. I feel bad though, you lost a ride with one of your friends. Would… would you like a ride in my car? I’d hate for you to have to take the bus. I hated the bus when I had to take it. Did you know that out of all the bacteria found on New York City public transport, 32 per cent was associated with the gastrointestinal tract and 30 per cent was skin. Another 20 per cent was associated with the genital area.” You rattled off. Germs were a thing for you too, you just dealt with it and constantly washed your hands.

To say Spencer looked impressed would be an understatement, and the way his eye changed when you caught it… wow, you’d never felt a heat rage in your tummy like that look made you feel.

“It was actually 29 percent skin, mostly assumed to be hair follicles and from people scratching at anything itching them.” He said with a glint in his eye. You didn’t feel challenged, just… understood? And seen. “But yeah… I wouldn’t mind a ride, if you wouldn’t be opposed.”

You led him to where you parked once the elevator dinged, and you both got in and buckled up. Your favorite artist’s music immediately started playing, a lot of favorites from people who you’ve loved- you collected things that reminded you of those that were special to you.

You drove in comfortable silence, and though you both kept looking at eachother out of the corner of your eyes, neither of you said much. You’d never felt such automatic attraction to someone before. Could your view be skewed after so many years of stories and imagining him? Possibly. But the reality was so much better than your imagination ever could have put together.

When you arrived, Spencer led you both inside the bar, opening the door for you. It was immediately a sensory overload for you both, and you shifted a little closer to him subconsciously to quell your discomfort. His hand found its way to the small of your back, just the smallest touch, and you could have died right then and there. It was electric and somehow so soothing. You felt your breath even out, and your anxiety fall back like a distant memory. You looked up at him and smiled softly, finding he was already looking at you. Your eyes fell to his lips, which were the loveliest shade of pink and parted just a little, his tongue coming out to wet them as if they sensed the attention. You could have just leaned in a few inches… you just needed to get on your tip toes and you’d be right there…

“Pretty Boy! Y/N! We’re over here, little lovebirds!”

“Morgan, leave them alone!”

You snapped out of your reverie when you heard the voices of Derek Morgan and Emily Prentiss, the latter hitting the former in the arm yet again today. Spencer didn’t seem to mind, clearly used to the antics of his friends, but you were more or less a little red over it all. You were letting this little crush you had on the genius get a little too obvious, and you definitely needed to pull it back a little before you made a fool of yourself.

The two of you walked to the booth the others sat at, Emily and JJ and Garcia on one side, Rossi and Morgan on the other. Morgan got out and grabbed a loose chair from a table, pulling it up and sitting in it, gesturing to the open two spots for you two to take.

Sliding in next to Rossi, he gave you a look that you pointedly tried to ignore. “You all seem to have drinks already. Couldn’t wait for us?” You teased.

“Not when the lovebirds took so long!” Derek responded, making you roll your eyes. “What can I get for you two, pretty boy and girl?” He added, offering himself up for waiter service.

“Can… can I get a glass of moscato? I’ve always been a sweet wine kinda girl. It’s gentle and actually enjoyable, unlike most alcohol.” You requested, making Emily snort.

“Ohhh, a few weeks working with me and I’ll break you of that mindset. Alcohol is amazing. All of it. We’re going to do so many shots, you’re not going to be a lightweight for long! Derek, she would like a margarita… and for little miss “sweet tooth”, have the bartender add a little grenadine?”

You snickered. “Funnily enough, you just hit the nail on the head! Whenever anyone tries to make me drink drink, that’s almost exactly what I order. I usually just go light on the tequila.”

“DEREK! MAKE IT A DOUBLE!” That made the whole of the group laugh out loud, including yourself. You knew you were in for quite a night.

“What about you, Boy Sweet Tooth?” Derek prodded, poking Reid in the side of the face. He, in turn, swatted at Derek’s hand.

“I’ll take a Shirley Temple, thanks.” He said, ignoring the giggling from around him.

“Y/N, do you also take 5 pounds of sugar in your coffee like Spence over here?” JJ piped up. You caught on to the Spence and filed that away to ask someone about later. You… weren’t a fan of how lovingly she was looking at him, but couldn't decipher if it was sisterly affection or… well, the way you looked at him. You could swear you felt Emily looking at you like she could read your mind, and you decided that when the time came to ask some questions, you’d ask her.

“I actually am not the biggest fan of coffee. I drink a lot of energy drinks though.” You responded, earning a laugh from the team.

“That’s even worse!” Garcia said. “That’s even more sugar than Reid!”

Spencer nodded from your side, the movement making you suddenly very aware of how close the two of you were sitting. “Monster energy contains 28 grams of sugar per 8.4-ounce.” He said. “Which is much more than my cup of coffee, thank you all very much.” He smirked, looking down at you. He also seemed to suddenly realize how close you were sitting, then. He looked down at your thighs pressed together under the table and almost maybe tensed up a little bit? But then he noticed you smiling at him, biting your lip, and he relaxed, just in time for Derek to come back with the drinks.

“One sugary mess for Y/N and one for Pretty Boy.” Gladly accepting your drink, hoping it would calm down your rapidly increasing heart rate, you took a big gulp of it.

“So, Y/N,” Garcia started, “What brings you to the BAU? Did you have posters of Rossi and Gideon as a kid when they started it?”

You forced out a laugh, the sudden vocalization of your father’s name making tears prick your eyes, but Rossi was quick to distract them for you. “Are you kidding? Y/N’s taste is way too good for this old bag of fleas. Besides, she wasn’t born for another 15 years or so, right, Y/N?”

Nodding, his joke had given you enough time to pull yourself together. “Rossi has been a good friend of my family for a long time, and I was always interested in what he did. I looked up to him like he was a superhero, and when the time came to decide on what I wanted to do for a living, I guess I wanted to be the superhero I always grew up around.” You smiled at him, earning a proud grin back.

“How long have you two known each other?” Emily pressed, interested.

“Long enough. He… went to school with my mom, I think? At least, they were friends for a long time before I was born, and he’s just… always been around. Not many kids grow up with THE David Rossi sitting in their living room and telling real ghost stories on babysitting nights.”

Morgan perked up. “How old are you anyways?” He said it in such a way, you almost felt like you were being hit on. You were pretty sure it was just the way he was, because no one even batted an eye at his tone except for Garcia, who smacked him playfully from her seat beside him at the end of the booth, to which he wrapped his arm around her lovingly.

“27. Older than I look, I know. Everyone always thinks I’m a complete baby, but I’m a little more worldly than that. As to your question earlier Garcia, I’ve always wanted to be a profiler. To me, you guys have capes and costumes and fight the bad guys. I… wanted to do that too. And I was always told I have the gut for it- I’m highly empathetic, and I read a lot so I can understand what’s going on in other people’s brains to better get how the thought process of humans works. I worked really hard and never let anyone know that-” you took a breath, Rossi looking at you, “-that I knew Rossi. I wanted to make it of my own merit. I wouldn’t even tell Rossi or Hotch that I was planning on the Academy until I was well on my way to graduating. I didn’t want anyone’s influence in how I did or how far I got. You should have seen the look on my friends faces when they saw his name on the graduation speech list. And the looks they gave me when he pulled me in for a hug upon handing me my diploma? Might have been my favorite part of graduation!” You laughed, enjoying the memory, even if it was tainted with a lot of bittersweet feelings.

The night went by, and it was a lot more fun than you thought it was going to be. Your nerves dissolved with every sip of liquor you consumed, and by your third drink, the whole thing almost didn’t seem surreal anymore. You were actually here, a member of the BAU, out to drinks with Derek Morgan, David Rossi, Jennifer Jareau, Emily Prentiss and Spencer Reid. Your father talked about these people, you knew these people better than most first day members…

“Never have I ever!” Emily yelled, making you and Spencer shake your heads. “Awwwww come on, I wanna get to know the new girl on a deeper level! A dirtier level! Pleaaaaase Y/N?” Okay, so yeah, Spencer was definitely your new work crush, but Emily was trying very hard to be a close second. That little pout she was doing was so cute, and the drunk lilt to her voice was adorable.

“I… I don’t know.” You said, your anxiety fighting to take center stage, despite how comfortable the tequila was making you. “S-Sure.” You didn’t want to be the negative nancy of the night that ruined everyone's fun. You didn't notice you had started picking at your nails until you felt a soft touch, Spencer's warm hand ghosting over yours, and as you caught his eye, you knew he was in the same boat you were… especially when Derek's voice broke the moment. It was almost like Spencer was psychic in that moment. His eyes predicted it.

“What about you, Pretty Boy? You never play with us.” He teased, pinching his face, and then looking at you. “Baby Genius doesn’t like to play with us because he’s afraid of us finding out how few things he’s done.”

“I’m not a baby. I’m 35 years old!” Spencer whined, a little like a petulant child. “And I am not afraid. I just think this game is dumb and just a means to find out dirty things about your coworkers personal lives, which is a very weird thing to want to know about if you ask me!” He defended, and you had to agree, though you didn’t do so out loud.

“Never have I ever…” Emily started, and then paused and laughed. “I’m so bad at these, I can never think of things I haven’t done!” She took a sip of her drink and when it seemed like she was never going to come up with something, JJ finally pitched one in.

“Never have I ever been in a threesome.” Emily groaned. “What? It’s not my fault that you’re a horndog! I’m a one man kinda lady.” JJ smirked and shrugged. Emily rolled her eyes and put a finger down, taking another sip of her drink. Derek, Garcia and Rossi all joined her, making you almost gag.

“Guys I already hate this, I did NOT need to know that about Rossi!” You say, taking a huge gulp of your drink, hoping tequila would wash away that moment from your memory forever.

Derek kicked your foot under the table lightly. “Don't worry, Pretty Lady. Just think about me in a threesome and your mind will be put at ease from the pain of thinking about Rossi. It’s a much prettier picture, I promise you that.”

You blushed, because yes, that was a much prettier picture. “Okay, that’s fair, I accept that.” You heard and felt some shuffling next to you, and saw out of the corner of your eye Reid looking uncomfortable. And… sad? No, why would he look sad?

Rossi went next, on your right. “Never have I ever been intimate with a man.”

You rolled your eyes. That was an easy one, of course he’d go with that. To your surprise, everyone at the table besides Rossi put a finger down and took a sip, including you. You almost spit yours out when you saw Reids finger go down, but no one else seemed to notice. Maybe… had you been wrong about his flirting with you? His proximity and his touches… maybe… maybe he was…

“NO WAY. DEREK, REALLY?” Garcia suddenly shrieked. Derek laughed and shrugged. “A man has needs, and when a woman demands something special, well, you make it happen. Besides, I’m not above admitting that there are some attractive men out there. Derek has an open mind.” He smirked and took another sip.

All four women at the table stared at him in awe. “God, that’s hot.” Emily said out loud, voicing the thoughts of everyone looking at Derek.

“Exactly the reason Derek has an open mind, beautiful ladies. I know what women want.” He said, looking like the cat who got the cream.

Now it was your turn, and you… you had to know. “Never have I ever been with a woman intimately.”

Everyone at the table laughed and put a finger down, and you watched as Reid did too. The relieved breath that came out of you after that should have embarrassed you, but it didn’t until he looked at you, concerned that something was wrong. You just smiled and hid how absolutely thrilled you were that he might still like you some kind of way.

Emily looked properly offended. “Oh, we need to change that. I don’t think anyone should miss out on the experience of a beautiful woman.”

“Oooh, Prentiss, are you offering?” Derek joked, laughing. “I’d watch that.” He eyed you both, making clear implications.

You were about to make a comment back, but before you could Spencer beat you to it. “Shut up, Derek.” Everyone froze, looking at Reid in shock. “Just because Garcia is okay with your sexual harassment, doesn’t mean you should be treating a new teammember that way. That’s not the way you should talk to people you barely know. She’s a human being.”

The whole team was unmoving. You turned and looked at them both, and you reached under the table and put your hand on Reids. He was shaking. “I actually… I would be open to being with a woman, I’ve just never had an opportunity. I’m… I’m not against any kind of experience. Try anything twice, in my opinion. Never know if the first time sucked because of the partner or if you actually just don’t like it.”

Everyone moved their shocked looks over at you now, before JJ piped in. “Y/N is full of surprises apparently. A little bi-curious, huh? Emily is going to take turning you from innocent lightweight to experienced day drinker as a personal challenge now.”

The rest of the group tried to shake off Reid’s outburst, but it definitely still hung in the air. You tried to pretend like you didn’t notice his heartbeat speeding up in your hands when you mentioned being interested in women. Men were so typical. Even smart ones, clearly.

“Your turn.” You squeezed his hand before taking it away a moment later. You were still scared of over doing it. You barely knew each other, no matter how you felt like you’d known each other for years… he’d just met you. Yes, he was… weirdly okay with your touch, but you were really trying not to get too excited about that.

“Never have I ever…” He thought, taking a moment to think about it. Derek looked like he wanted to make some kind of comment, but also looked like he was thinking better of it. “Never have I ever been in love.” He said, eyes down on his drink. Everyone drank and put a finger down… except for the two of you. You could feel him looking at your hands, how your fingers hadn’t changed, and you almost wanted to scream but today is making me think that love at first sight is real and not just in Disney movies. But you kept it in, because you’re sure if you said it, you’d end up trying to kiss him and that was not appropriate.

The private moment between the two of you was broken then, Derek moving right along with the game. “Never have I ever had a thing for someone more than 5 years older than me.”

You wished you had something to throw at him. Every one of you put your fingers down, except the two boys at the end of the bar. Rossi snickered as he sipped his drink. “You’re missing out, son. Older women are incredible. Mature. Worldly.”

“And older men?” Prentiss added, to which the girls on either side of her made agreeing noises. “Well, let’s just say there’s a reason there’s such a thing as a daddy kink.”

You chuckled and sipped your drink before adding in, “Or a professor kink.” Everyone made noises of approval at that.

“Y/N is kinky! You had a thing for your professors in college?” Garcia laughed, and it was such an infectious sound, you couldn’t even try to be embarrassed, you just wanted to join her laughter.

“Not really, but I’ve always liked the idea of it.” You blamed the tequila for making your mouth move right now. “But I’ve always loved the idea of an older man in a little nerdy professor outfit who seems so uptight and so innocent keeping me late after class and teaching me a lesson, I guess.”

“Okay, I think we’re even now, kid. You know things about me you never wanted to know… and now I know things about you that I could have gone my whole life not knowing, thank you very much.” Rossi had quite the look on his face, and it made you giggle. You were so distracted by him, you didn’t notice Spencer’s demeanor change.

“Reid? What’s the matter?” JJ asked, concern lacing her voice. You turned and saw what she saw, a dark look having fallen over his usually soft features. You were reaching your hand out to touch his hand when he stood up rather abruptly.

“I’ll be right back.” He wasted no time running to where you could only assume was the bathroom.

“What crawled up his butt?” Garcia asked, laughing and leaning on Derek. “Oooh! It’s my turn! We’ll just catch him up when he gets back. Never have I ever sent anyone a nude!” She said, making everyone at the table groan except for you. After they all took a sip, they looked at you like you’d somehow betrayed them by not being guilty of the same thing.

“Oh come on, really, Garcia and Y/N? It’s the 21st century! You’re telling me you’ve never had someone far away that you’ve wanted to get all hot and bothered?” JJ said, starting to slur just a little. “Come on. With our jobs? I’m a married woman who never gets to see my hot husband… technology of today is an amazing help for that.”

You shrugged. “I’m not against it or anything. I’ve just… never had anyone who I wanted to send something like that to. Besides, I was raised to fear the idea of anyone getting any of my info online, so I’ve always been more on the careful side when it comes to that.” Your mom and dad had always been very- open, to say the least, about the dangers of predators online. So you’d never really gone through that rebellious teen phase, knowing what could actually happen if you did.

Garcia nodded. “Guys, I’m a tech genius, and I am… well, a little famous online because of my hacking skills. I’m not giving anyone access to this gorgeousness unless they are right in front of me.”

“Y/N, you’ve never had anyone you’d send a teasing picture to or something? Just to get them going and play that really hot game of ‘back and forth’ with?” Emily asked, gesturing to her empty drink, pouting at Derek, who relented and got up to get new drinks for everyone.

“No… I’ve been so focused on school and my career, and no one ever stood out like that for me before.” Spencer reappeared like magic, suddenly by your side again, sadly further away than before. You missed his warmth already, but tried to shake the thought out of your mind. You’d literally just met this guy this morning.

“Welcome back Genius boy, we’re talking about nudes! Have you ever sent nudes to a special someone?” Garcia prodded, her alcohol drowning brain not understanding the idea that maybe he wasn’t interested in playing anymore.

“N-No. I haven’t.” He said, playing with his hands on his lap. You wanted to reach out and take his hand, lace your fingers together and let him play with your fingers instead of his own.

“Me neither! Neither has Y/N- we’re all such good kids. The rest of you are all naughty and strangers have absolutely seen your junk!”

Emily smiled at you and looked over at Spencer, tilting her head in curiosity. “Is it your hatred towards technology or are you just shy?”

He shrugged. “Maybe a bit of both. I’ve… never had someone I had a desire to, well, send pictures of myself to. There’s a large level of trust that goes into that. Trust that it’ll remain private, trust that they would l-like what they see…” His eyes fell to his lap and you could have cried for how unsure he looked of himself.

Derek returned with drinks, one for you too even though you hadn’t finished yours yet. “Aww, Pretty Boy, anyone who would be lucky enough to get one of your nudes better consider themselves lucky. I don’t call you pretty boy for nothin’.” He mussed Reid’s hair again, but this time, Spencer didn’t seem to mind. Some of his tension slipped away, and you felt yourself relax too. You gulped down the rest of your drink so you could start in on the new one, the world starting to get a little topsy turvy. How many drinks had they put in front of you so far?

It was Emily’s turn, but she couldn’t for the life of her come up with something she hadn’t done, so she demanded the game end and they moved on to just bothering each other with questions. An hour passed by faster than you realized, and by the time you’d finished the drink Derek had put in front of you, you were more than a little sloppy. You were putting most of your weight on Spencer, your head feeling like it weighed 100 pounds as it drooped onto his shoulder. His mood seemed to improve over the time since he went to the bathroom, and he’d been shifting closer to you as you’d been doing to him. You were thigh to thigh again, and your arms were pressed together from shoulder to wrist. You drunkenly stared at your hands, laying side by side on each of your thighs, trying to use some kind of dormant magic inside of you to pull his hand to yours.

“I think Y/N’s had enough, tonight, guys.” Rossi’s voice filled your ears. You were too busy trying to focus on the scent of Spencer to care to listen. The bar was overwhelming your senses again, and you were trying to ground yourself in Spencer’s familiar warmth and smell. “We should probably get going before someone ends up in someone else’s lap.” He added, making the rest of your (very drunk) team laugh. “Who’s in my car and who else can drive?”

“I drove here but I don’t think I should drive.” You piped up, pulling your keys from your purse and putting them on the table.

“I-I’ll drive Y/N home.” Spencer said quickly, trying to ignore the hooting from the rest of the team at the offer.

“I’m going with them!” Emily and JJ yelled at the same time. Garcia and Derek’s mouths hanging open as they seemed to be about to say the same thing.

The latter two mumbled under their breath, damning Emily and JJ for “stealing the seats to the show” and both agreed to go with Rossi.

Reid helped you out of the booth, arm wrapping securely around your waist to keep you standing up. You tried to pull away, embarrassed that you needed so much help, but he just held you closer. “Don’t worry, Y/N.” His breath ghosted over your ear and made you shiver. “I’ve got you. I won’t let you fall.”

“I already have…” You said quietly, your drunk brain not knowing you’d whispered out loud. You focused on his smell and his touch, the way the warmth from his side and his hands set your skin on fire. Your embarrassment was a thing for future Y/N to worry about, because present Y/N was enthralled with the man helping you to the car.

After saying goodnight to the other three, JJ and Emily poured themselves into the back of your car, Spencer helping you into the passenger seat. He got into the drivers seat and chuckled as he watched you fight with the seat belt. “Let me help you, please.” He said, still laughing lightly, and you pouted, but relented. His hands brushed yours as they took the buckle, and he brushed your hip as he locked you in place. Every time he touched you, you could swear you felt shocks of electricity go through you.

“Speeeeeence, can you help me buckle in too?” You heard JJ call from the back in a sing song voice.

“Me too, Spenceyyyyy! Strap me in! Or down!” Emily added from beside her, making them break down in a fit of giggles. You wanted to pitch in that you would also be up for Spencer tying you down, but as the car lurched forward, your stomach followed suit and suddenly you lost the ability to talk. You were just focusing on not vomiting in your car and ruining all chances of Spencer ever seeing you as attractive ever again.

He was laughing at the ridiculousness of his friends as he started driving, but seemed to take immediate notice of something being wrong with you. “Y/N? Are you okay?” He asked, and the concern in his voice made you feel very guilty for putting it there. He seemed to reach out for you, but had apparently decided against it, putting his hand on the gear shift instead. He had such nice hands.

“Y-Yeah. I’m just a little dizzy, I’m fine, don’t you worry your pretty little head about me.” You smiled at him, watching him driving soothing your aching stomach. You felt like you were in an ocean, the waves crashing around you and making you sea sick. Spencer felt like a buoy for you to clutch onto so you wouldn’t drown. “C-Can I-” You reached for his hand, pulling it to your lap and playing with his fingers nervously, trying to focus on the way they felt rather than focus on the spinning in your head or the flipping of your stomach.

Spencer’s hand relaxed in your grip, allowing you the simple moment that, unfortunately, did not escape the two drunk ladies in the back. “Are you two gonna get married?” Emily asked.

“Awwww I’d finally get to be a godmother! I made everyone godparents and no one’s made me a fairy godmother yet! I wanna go godmother shopping with Pen so bad!” JJ added, bouncing next to her co-conspirator. You blushed and tried to let go of his hand, but he reacted immediately and took your hand back into his so you could keep playing with it. The fact that he was at least okay with whatever you felt about him and how you were acting on it made you feel light as air. He could just be allowing it while you were drunk because he felt sorry for you… but you held onto hope anyway. Even with your knowledge of his love of chess, you didn’t think he seemed like the kind of guy to play games.

“No, I want to be the godmother!” Emily whined.

“I’m Spencer’s best friend!” JJ countered, pushing Emily on the shoulder.

“I’m going to be Y/N’s best friend, just you wait! Y/N, wanna have a sleepover?” Emily asked, tapping you on your shoulder incessantly.

“Sure, Em.” You smiled to yourself. You liked the fact that she wanted to be your friend, but you hoped it was for more than possibly being a godmother to a child that could possibly not even exist.

“Yay!” She exclaimed, sticking her tongue out at JJ. “Oh shush. When they get married I’ll be Y/N’s maid of honor and you can be Spencey’s best man!”

Your heartbeat a little harder at the thought, and you chanced a glance at Spencer to see what he thought of their shenanigans. He seemed amused as he focused on the road, trying to pretend like he wasn’t paying them any mind.

JJ perked up and stopped pouting, ruffling Spencer’s hair from the back seat. “Awwwwww can I be your best man, Spence? I’ll wear a suit and everything! Derek would be soooooo mad! Imagine his face!”

Spencer laughed at that, the image somehow amusing to him. “We’ll see. Maybe let me decide if and when I want to get married first before you start planning my wedding?”

Oh. You deflated at that. He’d seemed so okay with all the teasing, you hoped... He pulled up to a house then, and considering JJ started to gather her things, you assumed this was her house. A man came to the porch and waved. You tried to focus on that, and let go of Reid’s hands in favor of forcing yourself to join the conversation. “Damn! JJ is that your husband?”

She giggled. “Yeah, that’s my Will!”

Emily sighed, leaning her head on the window. “Isn’t it a damn shame? She took the last eligible bachelor in the whole world? AND he’s a southern gentleman! JJ sucks.” You both laughed at her, JJ especially.

“Love you too. Have fun with Y/N while I have fun with my hot southern gentleman husband!” She called out as she got out, closing the door behind her. She ran up to Will and wrapped herself around him. They were a beautiful couple, and seemed so at ease with one another. You hoped you got to know what that felt like one day.

Emily seemed to start to drift off then, and you turned to look at Spencer again, who was staring at you. You blushed, unsure of why his gaze was so intense. “I uh… you know that coffee shop on Trumbull street? I live right over there.” You offered, hoping to go back to how happy and at ease he seemed to be before.

He nodded, clearly knowing where he was going with the directions you gave him. You drove in tense mostly silence for a while, Emily’s snoring the only sound besides the sounds of the road. “D-Did… did I do something wrong?” You asked suddenly, your voice quiet and unsure.

His shoulders fell from their tense position. “No, I just… I think I’m just tired. We had a hard case this week and going out drinking isn’t usually how I decompress.”

“How do you usually decompress?”

“I spend most of my free time at home reading. I read 20,000 words per minute and it soothes me. Morgan wasn’t completely dramatizing my apartment. It’s covered in books. They’re everywhere but the fridge and freezer.”

You laughed at that, starting to sober up a little bit. The world wasn’t quite so upside down anymore. “Me too, except most of my library is back at my moms house. We have a room dedicated to books… we’re a big reading family. Especially my dad.” You offered.

“My love of reading came from my mom. She read to me when I was little.”

“The best way is to have a book read to you! My dad used to read to me, too. I loved listening to him say big words I didn’t understand yet.” You smiled at the memory, closing your eyes and remembering, wishing it didn’t seem so far away and cloudy.

Spencer smiled. “My mom says that too. I can still close my eyes and remember every story she ever read to me.”

“I would kill for your memory.” You admitted sadly. “To be able to remember everything with such detail… it’s a gift I wish I had.”

“A gift.” He paused, looking sad. “A curse too, though. It’s not fun to remember every detail of the bad things.” He said, and you longed to know what those bad things were. Maybe one day you would.

You smiled, one that dripped in bittersweet, looking out the window. “‘The way I see it, every life is a pile of good things and bad things… The good things don't always soften the bad things, but vice-versa, the bad things don't necessarily spoil the good things and make them unimportant.’”

You looked back at him in time to see his surprised expression as he turned and looked at you before he had to look back at the road. “Doctor Who. Matt Smith, Vincent and the Doctor. Series 5, episode 10. Air date June 5th 2010.”

“Impressive!” Truly, you were impressed. Even knowing he remembered everything, you were sure it would never surprise you. “It’s one of my favorite episodes, actually. I have a lot of favorites, but that one never gets old.”

“Who’s your favorite Doctor?” He asked you, and you realized that you were getting close to your apartment. You wished the night didn’t have to end.

“I don’t think I could pick, honestly. They all have their merits, and they all definitely have their flaws… I loved David, just like every other girl in the world, but Matt’s chaotic energy was so fun. And Capaldi was just so… captivating. He’s an amazing actor. His work in Heaven Sent was… indescribable. That’s another one of my favorites. You can take a right up here, and then I’m in the big apartment building on the left.” You watched his arms as he turned the steering wheel, captivated by how strong they seemed underneath the button up and sweater vest.

“Thanks for driving us… you’re welcome to take my car home- it’s late, and I don’t want you to have to find a bus or train at this time.” You said, not making a move to get up. You’d only spent a day with him, and you already never wanted to be away from him.

He pulled up to the building and put the car in park before turning to look at you. “How will you get to work tomorrow?”

You hadn’t thought about that. You bit your lip and blushed all the way to your neck. “I… I can see if Emily can text JJ and have her pick us up?”

“Or I could come and pick you two up?” He offered. You nodded slowly.

“I… don’t want to inconvenience you. It’s not fair to inconvenience your new teammate.”

“It’s not an inconvenience. By letting me take your car, I don’t have to take the bus tomorrow… That’s actually pretty nice. And I’ll get to see you again… you know, so we can talk more Doctor Who.” He looked like he was blushing, but you couldn’t be sure in the dark of the car.

“O-Okay… It would be nice to see you tomorrow. Though I will probably be very embarrassed about tonight. I don’t usually do things like this. Get drunk and act like a fool.” You gestured at nothing, pointing between the two of you, indicating you were talking about how all over him you were all day.

“You have no reason to be embarrassed. The rest of the team was much more ridiculous than you were. Everyone acts different when under the influence of alcohol; Morgan gets even more forward and flirty, Garcia gets abrasive and asks invasive questions, Emily gets loud, JJ gets a little whiny and is what I’ve heard referred to as a ‘woo girl’? Rossi… Rossi doesn’t really act very different from himself sober, but I can guess that that comes with age. You… well, you were… a pretty adorable drunk, actually.” He said, almost too quiet. You almost missed it, but you were glad you didn’t.

Emily stirred behind you before you could respond. “Mmm, arewethereyet?” She yawned, making stretching sounds.

“Yeah, we are, Em. We just got here.” You sighed. “Thank you, Reid. For driving us home, for standing up for me earlier… you’ve been very kind and patient with my drunkenness tonight and I appreciate it. I hope I can make up for today and show you that I’m an okay person when Emily isn’t forcing tequila down my throat.”

“I already think you’re pretty cool, so there’s nothing to make up for. I’ll-” He looked like he wanted to say something else, but he looked back at Emily and then at you. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow bright and early. I’ll call you when I get here, okay Em?”

“Mm’Kay Spencer.” She replied sleepily, opening her door, making you feel the need to open yours too. The night was over much too fast in your opinion.

“Thanks again, Reid, have a good night.” You were about to shut the door when you heard his voice again, causing you to turn around.

“Y/N?” He leaned forward, his head tilted and hair falling to the side, messy and so attractive- you wanted to reach forward and run your fingers through it and know if it felt as soft as it looked.

“Yeah?” You bent down a little to meet his gaze.

His eyes were large and brown, the lights from the street lamps making them sparkle. “Please call me Spencer. All my friends call me Spencer.”

You could have danced, that had made you so happy. “O-Okay. Goodnight, Spencer. Thank you for everything.”

He smiled at you then, the biggest one you’d had the pleasure to see on his face so far in the 12 hours you’d known him. You hoped to see a million more of those in the future. “Goodnight, Y/N. Good luck with that drunk mess over there. See you tomorrow.” You and Emily headed up to your apartment building, and when you turned around from inside, he was still there, looking at you with a smile on his face.

Next Chapter

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[butterflies-dragons]

Lúthien and Sansa

Art credit: Lúthien by Aerankai and Sansa by denvertakespics

Recently I started reading about Beren and Lúthien and got really fascinated about how similar Lúthien and Sansa are.

Summary:

1. Beauty

2. Flowery names

3. From dusk to dawn

4. Little birds: nightingales

5. Big birds: eagles and falcons

6. Big cats and big dogs

7. Bat and wolf imagery

8. Singing and dancing

9. Other parallels

10. Beren and Lúthien as inspiration for Jon and Sansa

11. Bonus: from real life to fiction

1. Beauty

Ah, Lúthien! Ah, Lúthien,

more fair than any child of Men!

Oh, loveliest maid of Elvenesse,

what madness doth thee now possess?

Ah, lissom limbs and shadowy hair

and chaplet of white snowdrops there;

oh, starry diadem and bright

soft hands beneath the pale moonlight!

She left his arms and slipped away

just at the breaking of the day.

—Canto VI, The Lay of Leithian - J.R.R. Tolkien

It is told in the Lay of Leithian that Beren came stumbling into Doriath grey and bowed as with many years of woe, so great had been the torment of the road. But wandering in the summer in the woods of Neldoreth he came upon Luthien, daughter of Thingol and Melian, at a time of evening under moonrise, as she danced upon the unfading grass in the glades beside Esgalduin. Then all memory of his pain departed from him, and he fell into an enchantment; for Luthien was the most beautiful of all the Children of Iluvatar. Blue was her raiment as the unclouded heaven, but her eyes were grey as the starlit evening; her mantle was sewn with golden flowers, but her hair was dark as the shadows of twilight. As the light upon the leaves of trees, as the voice of clear waters, as the stars above the mists of the world, such was her glory and her loveliness; and in her face was a shining light.

[...] The fame of the beauty of Luthien and the wonder of her song had long gone forth from Doriath.

—Chapter 19, The Silmarillion - J.R.R. Tolkien

Lúthien was an Elf maiden/half Maia of incomparable beauty and grace, with night-dark hair, sparkling grey eyes, luminous skin, and a clear heartbreakingly lovely voice that was said to cause winter to melt into spring.

Lúthien was said to be the fairest maiden to have ever lived (a description later shared also by Arwen).

Why, O king, I desire thy daughter Tinúviel, for she is the fairest and most sweet of all maidens I have seen or dreamed of.’

Then was there a silence in the hall, save that Dairon laughed, and all who heard were astounded, but Tinúviel cast down her eyes, and the king glancing at the wild and rugged aspect of Beren burst also into laughter, whereat Beren flushed for shame, and Tinúviel’s heart was sore for him. ‘Why! wed my Tinúviel fairest of the maidens of the world, and become a prince of the woodland Elves—’tis but a little boon for a stranger to ask,’ quoth Tinwelint.

—The Tale of Tinúviel, Beren and Lúthien (2017) - J.R.R. Tolkien

Lúthien inherited her beauty from her mother Melian:

Melian was a fay. In the gardens of [the Vala] Lórien she dwelt, and among all his fair folk none were there that surpassed her beauty, nor none more wise, nor none more skilled in magical and enchanting song.

—Beren and Lúthien, Beren and Lúthien (2017) - J.R.R. Tolkien

Sansa is a beautiful maiden as well, she inherited her beauty from her mother Catelyn Tully:

Worse, she was beautiful. Sansa had gotten their mother’s fine high cheekbones and the thick auburn hair of the Tullys.

—A Game of Thrones - Arya I

"Sansa was a lady at three, always so courteous and eager to please. She loved nothing so well as tales of knightly valor. Men would say she had my look, but she will grow into a woman far more beautiful than I ever was, you can see that. I often sent away her maid so I could brush her hair myself. She had auburn hair, lighter than mine, and so thick and soft . . . the red in it would catch the light of the torches and shine like copper."

—A Clash of Kings - Catelyn VII

About Sansa's beauty, as I said before in another post:

I think beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but there are certain consensus and there are also certain conflicting reports about “beauty” in the universe of A Song of Ice and Fire. [...] On the other hand, we have characters like Catelyn Tully and Sansa Stark, mother and daughter, that are consensually considered beautiful. Zero conflicting reports. [...] Sansa Stark is called beautiful the most times in the entire series and by so many characters, friends and foes. There is no doubt about her beauty, and sadly that’s why her big lot of haters want for her to be disfigured so badly……….

As you can see, in a series of books full of unreliable narrators, Sansa's beauty is an absolute truth.

As I'm going to explain in the next section, Sansa's beauty is said to be "bewitching". Sansa is an "enchantress" thanks to her beauty.

Here a compilation of all the quotes about Sansa's beauty.

2. Flowery names

Lúthien was born in a forest under the stars, and niphredil first grew at the moment of her birth.

Niphredil was a small white flower that grew first at the moment of Lúthien's birth.

In one of his letters (Nº 312), Tolkien said that niphredil would be a delicate kin of a snowdrop.

The fact that a flower first grew at the moment of Lúthien's birth makes sense with the etymology of the name:

Lúthien is a Sindarin name meaning "Daughter of Flowers". The first element in the name is lúth ("blossom, inflorescence"). The second element is the feminine suffix -ien ("daughter").

In early writings, Doriathrin Luthien and Noldorin Lhūthien meant "enchantress", deriving from Primitive Quendian luktiēnē ("enchantress"; from root LUK "magic, enhantement").

And as it will be explained later, Lúthien wore fragrant flowers in her beautiful black hair.

Lúthien may have been derived from the Old English word Lufien, which means "love".

Sansa is also a flowery name:

The names Arya and Sansa are meant to represent the polar opposites of their characters, Arya being a hard sounding name, Sansa a softer more pretty name, etc.

—GRRM about The Stark Sisters’ Names

Arya, I say it ar-ya, two syllables, not three, not a-ri-a, like an operatic thing, but Arya, very sharp. I wanted something that was like a knife, that was sharp and hard sound, to be a contrast to the flowery Sansa.

—DAYS OF ICE AND FIRE Q&A (Nov. 13 2010)

Sansa is strongly linked with flowers as well (the rose of Winterfell legend, blue winter roses, the scent of flowers along the north bank of the Trident, Loras’s red rose, Myrcella’s garden, the Roadside Rose song, etc).

Sansa wore the red rose that Loras gave her in her hair.

Sansa has a lot of parallels with Jennys of Oldstones, a lady in a song famous for wearing flowers in her hair.

And about "magic", "enchantment" and "enchantress" we have these very telling quotes:

The pale pink light of dawn sparkled on branch and leaf and stone. Every blade of grass was carved from emerald, every drip of water turned to diamond. Flowers and mushrooms alike wore coats of glass. Even the mud puddles had a bright brown sheen. Through the shimmering greenery, the black tents of his brothers were encased in a fine glaze of ice.

So there is magic beyond the Wall after all. He found himself thinking of his sisters, perhaps because he'd dreamed of them last night. Sansa would call this an enchantment, and tears would fill her eyes at the wonder of it, but Arya would run out laughing and shouting, wanting to touch it all.

—A Clash of Kings - Jon III

"Do you require guarding?" Marillion said lightly. "I am composing a new song, you should know. A song so sweet and sad it will melt even your frozen heart. 'The Roadside Rose,' I mean to call it. About a baseborn girl so beautiful she bewitched every man who laid eyes upon her."

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa VII

Bringing Harry here was the first step in our plan, but now we need to keep him, and only you can do that. He has a weakness for a pretty face, and whose face is prettier than yours? Charm him. Entrance him. Bewitch him."

[...] Ser Harrold looked confused. "Please. One dance."

Charm him. Entrance him. Bewitch him. "If you insist."

—The Winds of Winter - Alayne I

As you can see, Sansa's beauty is said to be "bewitching". Sansa, like Lúthien, is an "enchantress."

3. From dusk to dawn

Lúthien is also called Tinúviel:

Tinúviel: ‘Daughter of Twilight’ [...].

—List of names in the original texts, Beren and Lúthien (2017) - J.R.R. Tolkien

Tinúviel literally means "Daughter of Twilight".

Beren first saw Lúthien dancing and singing in the twilight:

Now the lies of Melko ran among Beren’s folk so that they believed evil things of the secret Elves, yet now did he see Tinúviel dancing in the twilight, and Tinúviel was in a silver-pearly dress, and her bare white feet were twinkling among the hemlock-stems. Then Beren cared not whether she were Vala or Elf or child of Men and crept near to see; and he leant against a young elm that grew upon a mound so that he might look down into the little glade where she was dancing, for the enchantment made him faint.

[...] “By dawn and dusk he sought her, but ever more hopefully when the moon shone bright. At last one night he caught a sparkle afar off, and lo, there she was dancing alone on a little treeless knoll and Dairon was not there. ”

—The Tale of Tinúviel, Beren and Lúthien (2017) - J.R.R. Tolkien

At length Beren fled south from the ever-closing circle of those that hunted him, and crossed the dreadful Mountains of Shadow, and came at last worn and haggard into Doriath. There in secret he won the love of Lúthien daughter of Thingol, and he named her Tinúviel, the nightingale, because of the beauty of her singing in the twilight beneath the trees; for she was the daughter of Melian.

—A passage extracted from the Quenta, Beren and Lúthien (2017) - J.R.R. Tolkien

While Lúthien is associated with the twilight and the moon; Sansa is associated with the dawn and the sun:

All through the dark hours he kept his vigil alone. When dawn broke over the city, the dark red blooms of dragon’s breath surrounded the girls where they lay. “I dreamed of Bran,” Sansa had whispered to him. “I saw him smiling.”

—A Game of Thrones - Eddard V

One more step, she told herself, one more step. She had to keep moving. If she stopped, she would never start again, and dawn would find her still clinging to the cliff, frozen in fear. One more step, and one more step.

The ground took her by surprise. She stumbled and fell, her heart pounding. When she rolled onto her back and stared up at from where she had come, her head swam dizzily and her fingers clawed at the dirt. I did it. I did it, I didn't fall, I made the climb and now I'm going home.

[...] The eastern sky was vague with the first hint of dawn when Sansa finally saw a ghostly shape in the darkness ahead; a trading galley, her sails furled, moving slowly on a single bank of oars. As they drew closer, she saw the ship's figurehead, a merman with a golden crown blowing on a great seashell horn.

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa V

When Sansa opened her eyes again, she was on her knees. She did not remember falling. It seemed to her that the sky was a lighter shade of grey. Dawn, she thought. Another day. Another new day. It was the old days she hungered for. Prayed for. But who could she pray to? The garden had been meant for a godswood once, she knew, but the soil was too thin and stony for a weirwood to take root. A godswood without gods, as empty as me. 

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa VII

More about Sansa and the dawn here.

4. Little birds: nightingales

Tinúviel is also a term to refer to the nightingale:

Tinúviel: [...] nightingale: name given to Lúthien by Beren.

—List of names in the original texts, Beren and Lúthien (2017) - J.R.R. Tolkien

Tinúviel is a Sindarin poetic term, though not a literal name, for the 'Nightingale'. This name was first given to Lúthien of Doriath by Beren when he first saw her dancing in the forest.

Lúthien's mother, Melian, is strongly associated with nightingales:

Melian was a fay. In the gardens of [the Vala] Lórien she dwelt, and among all his fair folk none were there that surpassed her beauty, nor none more wise, nor none more skilled in magical and enchanting song. It is told that the Gods would leave their business and the birds of Valinor their mirth, that Valmar’s bells were silent, and the fountains ceased to flow, when at the mingling of the light Melian sang in the gardens of the God of Dreams. Nightingales went always with her, and their song she taught them. But she loved deep shadow, and strayed on long journeys into the Outer Lands [Middle-earth], and there filled the silence of the dawning world with her voice and the voices of her birds.

The nightingales of Melian Thingol heard and was enchanted and left his folk. Melian he found beneath the trees and was cast into a dream and a great slumber, so that his people sought him in vain.

—Beren and Lúthien, Beren and Lúthien (2017) - J.R.R. Tolkien

In an early version of the tale of Beren and Lúthien, she is called "little bird" by Tevildo:

Now gazing therethrough, for it was ajar, she saw the wide vaulted kitchens and the great fires that burnt there, and those that toiled always within, and the most were cats—but behold, there by a great fire stooped Beren, and he was grimed with labour, and Tinúviel sat and wept, but as yet dared nothing. Indeed even as she sat the harsh voice of Tevildo sounded suddenly within that chamber: ‘Nay, where then in Melko’s name has that mad Elf fled,’ and Tinúviel hearing shrank against the wall, but Tevildo caught sight of her where she was perched and cried: ‘Then the little bird sings not any more; come down or I must fetch thee, for behold, I will not encourage the Elves to seek audience of me in mockery.

—The Tale of Tinúviel, Beren and Lúthien (2017) - J.R.R. Tolkien

Tevildo was a big black cat, tiger size, considered the Prince of Cats:

Tevildo: The Prince of Cats, mightiest of all cats, ‘possessed of an evil spirit’; a close companion of Morgoth.

—List of names in the original texts, Beren and Lúthien (2017) - J.R.R. Tolkien

In contrast to Lúthien being called "little bird" by a big black cat, Sansa is also called "little bird" by a big man dubbed the Hound:

He was mocking her, she realized. "No one could withstand him," she managed at last, proud of herself. It was no lie.

Sandor Clegane stopped suddenly in the middle of a dark and empty field. She had no choice but to stop beside him. "Some septa trained you well. You're like one of those birds from the Summer Isles, aren't you? A pretty little talking bird, repeating all the pretty little words they taught you to recite."

"That's unkind." Sansa could feel her heart fluttering in her chest. "You're frightening me. I want to go now."

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa II

As you can see, Lúthien and Sansa are called little birds by a big cat and a big dog respectively, but those beast-like creatures were antagonist figures to our heroines and the term little bird was no endearment but a way to mock and threat them.

We will come back to this cat versus dog issue later.

About Sansa and the nightingale, as I said before in another post:

She [Sansa] is also called “little bird” and a very special little bird, the one that makes the sweetest sounds, is the Nightingale.

The hours in ASOIAF have names. The hour of the Wolf is “the blackest part of the night”, and the hour of the Nightingale, comes after the hour of the Wolf. This means that the hour of the Wolf is exactly before the Dawn or the Hour of the Nightingale. Awesome right?

The song of the nightingale has been described as one of the most beautiful sounds in nature, inspiring songs, fairy tales, opera, books, and a great deal of poetry. And who is the character often described with the sweetest voice in ASOIAF? Yes that’s Sansa Stark, she sings beautifully with the sweetest voice.

So after the Long Night, the Dawn will come. The Starks will be there. Sansa will be there.

More about Sansa and the nightingale here.

Now, the association of Lúthien's mother, Melian, with nightingales:

Melian sang in the gardens of the God of Dreams. Nightingales went always with her, and their song she taught them.

—Beren and Lúthien, Beren and Lúthien (2017) - J.R.R. Tolkien

Makes me think about the Children of the Forest and the Old Gods, that are also related with the Starks.

Melian is associated with songbirds, and it is said she taught nightingales how to sing and their music followed her paces. In Valinor, she dwelt in the gardens of Lórien tending its trees, and she was the most beautiful, wise and skilled in songs of enchantment of all the people of Irmo. However she journeyed often to Middle-earth for she loved the deep shadows of trees and forests.

Melian was a Maia. The Maiar were spirits that descended to earth and help to create the world, almost like angels, almost like gods.

The Children of the Forest are called singers, and after their death part of them remains on earth and lives longer inside birds:

Bran knew. "She's a child. A child of the forest." He shivered, as much from wonderment as cold. They had fallen into one of Old Nan's tales.

"The First Men named us children," the little woman said. "The giants called us woh dak nag gran, the squirrel people, because we were small and quick and fond of trees, but we are no squirrels, no children. Our name in the True Tongue means those who sing the song of earth. Before your Old Tongue was ever spoken, we had sung our songs ten thousand years."

—A Dance with Dragons - Bran II

"Someone else was in the raven," he told Lord Brynden, once he had returned to his own skin. "Some girl. I felt her."

"A woman, of those who sing the song of earth," his teacher said. "Long dead, yet a part of her remains, just as a part of you would remain in Summer if your boy's flesh were to die upon the morrow. A shadow on the soul. She will not harm you."

"Do all the birds have singers in them?"

"All," Lord Brynden said. "It was the singers who taught the First Men to send messages by raven … but in those days, the birds would speak the words. The trees remember, but men forget, and so now they write the messages on parchment and tie them round the feet of birds who have never shared their skin."

—A Dance with Dragons - Bran III

As you can see, the Maiar sounds really similar to the Old Gods and the Children of the Forest. Particularly Luthien's mother, Melian, that is associated with trees (Old Gods, weirwoods) and nightingales (crows, ravens).

5. Big birds: eagles and falcons

Lúthien's father, Thingol, locked her up in a tree house, that is basically a bird's nest, since Lúthien is also called Tinúviel that means nightingale:

Now Tinwelint let build high up in that strange tree, as high as men could fashion their longest ladders to reach, a little house of wood, and it was above the first branches and was sweetly veiled in leaves. Now that house had three corners and three windows in each wall, and at each corner was one of the shafts of Hirilorn. There then did Tinwelint bid Tinúviel dwell until she would consent to be wise, and when she fared up the ladders of tall pine these were taken from beneath and no way had she to get down again.

—The Tale of Tinúviel, Beren and Lúthien (2017) - J.R.R. Tolkien

Sansa, under the guise of Alayne Stone, is the prisoner of Petyr Baelish in the Eyrie, that literally means falcon's nest:

Alayne's apartments in the Maiden's Tower were larger and more lavish than the little bedchamber where she'd been kept when Lady Lysa was alive. She had a dressing room and a privy of her own now, and a balcony of carved white stone that looked off across the Vale. While Gretchel was tending to the fire, Alayne padded barefoot across the room and slipped outside. The stone was cold beneath her feet, and the wind was blowing fiercely, as it always did up here, but the view made her forget all that for half a heartbeat. Maiden's was the easternmost of the Eyrie's seven slender towers, so she had the Vale before her, its forests and rivers and fields all hazy in the morning light. The way the sun was hitting the mountains made them look like solid gold.

—A Feast for Crows - Alayne I

Beren and Lúthien were rescued by great eagles:

Thus the quest of the Silmaril was like to have ended in ruin and despair; but in that hour above the wall of the valley three mighty birds appeared, flying northward with wings swifter than the wind.

Among all birds and beasts the wandering and need of Beren had been noised, and Huan himself had bidden all things watch, that they might bring him aid. High above the realm of Morgoth Thorondor and his vassals soared, and seeing now the madness of the Wolf and Beren’s fall came swiftly down, even as the powers of Angband were released from the toils of sleep. Then they lifted up Beren and Lúthien from the earth, and bore them aloft into the clouds . . .

(As they passed high over the lands) Lúthien wept, for she thought that Beren would surely die; he spoke no word, nor opened his eyes, and knew thereafter nothing of his flight. And at the last the eagles set them down upon the borders of Doriath; and they were come to that same dell whence Beren had stolen in despair and left Lúthien asleep.

There the eagles laid her at Beren’s side and returned to the peaks of Crissaegrim and their high eyries [...].

—The Quenta Silmarillion, Beren and Lúthien (2017) - J.R.R. Tolkien

Sansa expects for the Knights of the Vale (falcons) to help her to re-claim Winterfell:

Her eyes widened. "He is not Lady Waynwood's heir. He's Robert's heir. If Robert were to die . . ."

Petyr arched an eyebrow. "When Robert dies. Our poor brave Sweetrobin is such a sickly boy, it is only a matter of time. When Robert dies, Harry the Heir becomes Lord Harrold, Defender of the Vale and Lord of the Eyrie. Jon Arryn's bannermen will never love me, nor our silly, shaking Robert, but they will love their Young Falcon . . . and when they come together for his wedding, and you come out with your long auburn hair, clad in a maiden's cloak of white and grey with a direwolf emblazoned on the back . . . why, every knight in the Vale will pledge his sword to win you back your birthright. So those are your gifts from me, my sweet Sansa . . . Harry, the Eyrie, and Winterfell. That's worth another kiss now, don't you think?"

—A Feast for Crows - Alayne II

Sansa also wishes to have falcon's wings:

A falcon soared above the frozen waterfall, blue wings spread wide against the morning sky. Would that I had wings as well.

—A Feast for Crows - Alayne I

Unbeknownst to Sansa, another kind of wings are reserved for her. More about this subject later.

6. Big cats and big dogs

During her adventures in order to help Beren, Lúthien interacts with a big black cat named Tevildo, and with a big dog named Huan, a great wolfhound.

As was said before, Tevildo was a big black cat, tiger size, considered the Prince of Cats:

Tevildo The Prince of Cats, mightiest of all cats, ‘possessed of an evil spirit’; a close companion of Morgoth.

—List of names in the original texts, Beren and Lúthien (2017) - J.R.R. Tolkien

Tevildo was an evil fay in the form of a great black cat with a collar of gold, which gave him much of his evil power. He was considered a prince of the servants of Melko and lived in a hilltop castle near Angamandi with other tiger-size cats. During the Quest for the Silmaril, Beren was captured by Melko and forced to work in Tevildo's kitchens. However, the cat was defeated by his archenemy Huan and Tinúviel, who forced him to give up his collar and reveal the spell which held the stones of his castle together. Melko learned Tevildo had lost his power and the cats reduced to normal size and exiled them.

Later Tevildo's place in the narrative was replaced by that of the Necromancer, Thû (later renamed Sauron), in the later Legendarium. Thû (and later Sauron) was the "Lord of Werewolves", in contrast to Tevildo's position as "Prince of Cats"; the cat-versus-dog theme prominent in the "Tale of Tinúviel" was thus eliminated in later writings.

Here we can see an illustration of Luthien's encounter with Tevildo:

Art credit: “but Tevildo caught sight of her where she was perched” by Alan Lee for Beren and Lúthien (2017) - J.R.R. Tolkien

Don't you find this scene familiar? A beautiful lady encountering with a black cat while she is pressed against a wall?

When I read about Tevildo discovering Lúthien shrunk against the wall:

Now gazing therethrough, for it was ajar, she saw the wide vaulted kitchens and the great fires that burnt there, and those that toiled always within, and the most were cats—but behold, there by a great fire stooped Beren, and he was grimed with labour, and Tinúviel sat and wept, but as yet dared nothing. Indeed even as she sat the harsh voice of Tevildo sounded suddenly within that chamber: ‘Nay, where then in Melko’s name has that mad Elf fled,’ and Tinúviel hearing shrank against the wall, but Tevildo caught sight of her where she was perched and cried: ‘Then the little bird sings not any more; come down or I must fetch thee, for behold, I will not encourage the Elves to seek audience of me in mockery.

—The Tale of Tinúviel, Beren and Lúthien (2017) - J.R.R. Tolkien

I immediately thought of Sansa's encounter with Balerion, that black tomcat of the Red Keep while she was pressed against a wall:

The noise receded as she moved deeper into the castle, never daring to look back for fear that Joffrey might be watching … or worse, following. The serpentine steps twisted ahead, striped by bars of flickering light from the narrow windows above. Sansa was panting by the time she reached the top. She ran down a shadowy colonnade and pressed herself against a wall to catch her breath. When something brushed against her leg, she almost jumped out of her skin, but it was only a cat, a ragged black tom with a chewed-off ear. The creature spit at her and leapt away.

—A Clash of Kings - Sansa II

And who was Balerion the black tomcat?

The Red Keep was full of cats: lazy old cats dozing in the sun, cold-eyed mousers twitching their tails, quick little kittens with claws like needles, ladies’ cats all combed and trusting, ragged shadows prowling the midden heaps. One by one Arya had chased them down and snatched them up and brought them proudly to Syrio Forel … all but this one, this one-eared black devil of a tomcat. “That’s the real king of this castle right there,” one of the gold cloaks had told her. “Older than sin and twice as mean. One time, the king was feasting the queen’s father, and that black bastard hopped up on the table and snatched a roast quail right out of Lord Tywin’s fingers. Robert laughed so hard he like to burst. You stay away from that one, child.”

—A Game of Thrones - Arya III

As you can see, Tevildo and Balerion sound very similar, both are black cats, both are called evil, both live in a castle, both are considered royals, Tevildo a prince, Balerion a king, and both found a beautiful lady pressed against a wall.

On the other hand, Lúthien befriends a great wolfhound named Huan.

Huan, the Hound of Valinor, was a great wolfhound, one of the hunting dogs of Oromë the Hunter.

Huan was given by Oromë to his friend Celegorm, one of the Sons of Fëanor and accompanied him on his huntings in the regions of Valinor. When the Ñoldor under Fëanor rebelled, Huan went with his master to Middle-earth.

Huan was with Celegorm and Curufin who were hunting when he smelled Lúthien and captured and brought the maid before Celegorm.

Celegorm captured Lúthien and plotted to marry her, thus forcing a bond of kinship with Lúthien's father, Thingol.

But Huan the hound was true of heart, and the love of Luthien had fallen upon him in the first hour of their meeting; and he grieved at her captivity. Therefore he came often to her chamber; and at night he lay before her door, for he felt that evil had come to Nargothrond. Luthien spoke often to Huan in her loneliness, telling of Beren, who was the friend of all birds and beasts that did not serve Morgoth; ad Huan understood all that was said. For he comprehended the speech of all things with voice; but it was permitted to him thrice only ere his death to speak with words. Now Huan devised a plan for the aid of Luthien; and coming at a time of night he brought her cloak, and for the first time he spoke, giving her counsel. Then he led her by secret ways out of Nargothrond, and they fled north together; and he humbled his pride and suffered her to ride upon him in the fashion of a steed, even as the Orcs did at times upon great wolves. Thus they made great speed, for Huan was swift and tireless.

—Chapter 19, The Silmarillion - J.R.R. Tolkien

So, in a superficial layer, Huan could be paralleled with Sandor Clegane, dubbed the Hound, since Huan was Celegorm's hunting hound and the Hound was the sworn sword and later Kingsguard of Joffrey Baratheon.

Celegorm was dubbed the Fair, had fair hair and was a great huntsman, the same way Joffrey was blonde and comely, and loved hunting and killing.

Celegorm wanted to marry Lúthien while Joffrey was actually betrothed with Sansa.

There is also the fact that Huan helped Lúthien escape the imprisonment imposed by Celegorm, gave her back her magic cloak (made of her shadowy hair), and fled north together, that somehow reversely resembles Sandor Clegane's offer to Sansa to help her flee north the night of the battle of the Blackwater, offer that Sansa rejected. That same night after a sexual assault attempt, the Hound ripped his white kingsguard's cloak (stained by blood and fire) off and left it fell on the floor.

But in a deeper layer, Huan was to Lúthien the same way the direwolves are to the Stark children.

Indeed, Huan was a gift from a god, the same way the direwolves were a gift from the Old Gods to the Stark children.

Among the six direwolves, Ghost is the one that resembles Huan the most, not only because Huan, despite having grey fur, is often depicted as white, as you can see here:

Art credit: "Luthien and Huan" by Elena Kukanova

But because Huan, like Ghost, is mute.

Huan had been granted special powers by the Valar, he was as large as a small horse, immortal, tireless and sleepless, and was allowed to speak three times before he died. It was also prophesied that he could not be killed unless it was by the greatest wolf that ever lived; in this case a werewolf.

Huan, taking pity of Lúthien disobeyed his master Celegorm, helped her scape, joined Beren and Lúthien in their quest and adventures, turned against his master to protect Lúthien and ultimately died protecting Beren.

Huan used the three times he was allowed to speak to help Beren and Lúthien and say farewell to them.

In a similar way, despite being mute, Jon was the only one that "heard" Ghost in the summer snows when the Starks found the direwolves.

Now, in an early version of the tale of Beren and Lúthien, Tevildo the Prince of Cats clashed against Huan the great wolfhound. It was a battle between a cat and a dog, Tevildo and Huan were archenemies. But in later versions of the tale, Tevildo was replaced by Sauron, who clashed against Huan, after taking the form of a werewolf. Huan won that battle. But much later, Huan was mortally wounded by Carcharoth, the greatest, most powerful wolf to ever live, and Huan died according it was prophesied.

The clash and contrast between wolves and hounds is also present in the universe of A Song of Ice and Fire; but in this case, the direwolves are the heroes while the hounds are the antagonists (Bolton's bitches, the Hound, etc).

This wolves versus hounds theme is particularly depicted in Jon's and Sansa's chapters:

Dogs moved between the tables, trailing after the serving girls. One of them, a black mongrel bitch with long yellow eyes, caught a scent of the chicken. She stopped and edged under the bench to get a share. Jon watched the confrontation. The bitch growled low in her throat and moved closer. Ghost looked up, silent, and fixed the dog with those hot red eyes. The bitch snapped an angry challenge. She was three times the size of the direwolf pup. Ghost did not move. He stood over his prize and opened his mouth, baring his fangs. The bitch tensed, barked again, then thought better of this fight. She turned and slunk away, with one last defiant snap to save her pride. Ghost went back to his meal.

Jon grinned and reached under the table to ruffle the shaggy white fur. The direwolf looked up at him, nipped gently at his hand, then went back to eating.

—A Game of Thrones - Jon I

Rattleshirt’s dogs greeted him with a chorus of snarls and growls and wild barking, as ever, but the direwolf paid them no mind. Six days ago, the largest hound had attacked him from behind as the wildlings camped for the night, but Ghost had turned and lunged, sending the dog fleeing with a bloody haunch. The rest of the pack maintained a healthy distance after that.

—A Storm of Swords - Jon I

"They’re dogs and he’s a wolf,” said Jon. “They know he’s not their kind.” No more than I am yours.

—A Storm of Swords - Jon I

It happened twice more that night, and again in the morning, when she woke to find him hard. The wildlings were stirring by then, and several could not help but notice what was going on beneath the pile of furs. Jarl told them to be quick about it, before he had to throw a pail of water over them. Like a pair of rutting dogs, Jon thought afterward. Was that what he’d become?

—A Storm of Swords - Jon III

Eddard Stark had left before dawn, Septa Mordane informed Sansa as they broke their fast. “The king sent for him. Another hunt, I do believe. There are still wild aurochs in these lands, I am told.”

“I’ve never seen an aurochs,” Sansa said, feeding a piece of bacon to Lady under the table. The direwolf took it from her hand, as delicate as a queen.

Septa Mordane sniffed in disapproval. “A noble lady does not feed dogs at her table,” she said, breaking off another piece of comb and letting the honey drip down onto her bread.

“She’s not a dog, she’s a direwolf,” Sansa pointed out as Lady licked her fingers with a rough tongue. “Anyway, Father said we could keep them with us if we want.”

The septa was not appeased. “You’re a good girl, Sansa, but I do vow, when it comes to that creature you’re as willful as your sister Arya.” She scowled. “And where is Arya this morning?”

“She wasn’t hungry,” Sansa said, knowing full well that her sister had probably stolen down to the kitchen hours ago and wheedled a breakfast out of some cook’s boy.

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa I

Sansa woke and found the old blind dog beside her once again. “I wish that you were Lady,” she said.

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa VI

The same way Lúthien bonded with Huan, I can see Sansa bonding with Ghost when she meets with Jon Snow and the mute direwolf again. Oh it would be so sweet...

7. Bat and wolf imagery

At some point during their adventures, Lúthien took the form of a giant bat while Beren took the form of a werewolf.

To transform into a giant bat, Lúthien used the coat of a female vampire servant of Sauron named Thuringwethil, as a cloak. The same way Beren transforms into a werewolf by using the coat of a werewolf named Draugluin as a cloak as well.

And then the giant bat rode upon the werewolf:

Long he [Huan] had pondered in his heart what counsel he could devise for the lightning of the peril of these two whom he loved. He turned aside therefore at Sauron's isle, as they ran northward again, and he took thence the ghastly wolf-hame of Draugluin, and the bat-fell of ThurIngwethil. She was the messenger of Sauron, and was wont to fly in vampire's form to Angband; and her greatfingered wings were barbed at each joint's end with and iron claw. Clad in these dreadful garments Huan and Luthien ran through Taur-nu-Fuin, and all things fled before them.

Beren seeing their approach was dismayed; and he wondered, for he had heard the voice of Tinuviel, and he thought it now a phantom for his ensnaring. But they halted and cast aside their disguise, and Luthien ran towards him.

[...] By the counsel of Huan and the arts of Luthien he was arrayed now in the hame of Draugluin, and she in the winged fell of ThurIngwethil. Beren became in all things like a werewolf to look upon, save that in his eyes there shone a spirit grim indeed but clean; and horror was in his glance as he saw upon his flank a batlike creature clinging with creased wings. Then howling under the moon he leaped down the hill, and the bat wheeled and flittered above him.

—Chapter 19, The Silmarillion - J.R.R. Tolkien

Huan stayed with Lúthien, and hearing of their perplexity and the purpose Beren had still to go to Angband, he went and fetched them from the ruined halls of Thû a werewolf’s coat and a bat’s. Three times only did Huan speak with the tongue of Elves or Men. The first was when he came to Lúthien in Nargothrond. This was the second, when he devised the desperate counsel for their quest. So they rode North, till they could no longer go on horse in safety. Then they put on the garments as of wolf and bat, and Lúthien in guise of evil fay rode upon the werewolf.

—A further extract from the Quenta, Beren and Lúthien (2017) - J.R.R. Tolkien

Now there he laid

before their feet, as dark as shade,

two grisly shapes that he had won

from that tall isle in Sirion:

a wolfhame huge—its savage fell

was long and matted, dark the spell

that drenched the dreadful coat and skin;

the werewolf cloak of Draugluin;

the other was a batlike garb

with mighty fingered wings, a barb

like iron nail at each joint’s end—

such wings as their dark cloud extend

against the moon, when in the sky

from Deadly Nightshade screeching fly

Thû’s messengers.

—The narrative in the Lay of Leithian to its termination, Beren and Lúthien (2017) - J.R.R. Tolkien

Draugluin: Greatest of the werewolves of Thû (Sauron).

Thuringwethil: Name taken by Lúthien in bat-form before Morgoth.

—List of names in the original texts, Beren and Lúthien (2017) - J.R.R. Tolkien

Sansa is said to have taken the form of a wolf with big leather wings like a bat:

"The Imp, it's thought. Him and his little wife."

"What wife?"

"I forgot, you've been hiding under a rock. The northern girl. Winterfell's daughter. We heard she killed the king with a spell, and afterward changed into a wolf with big leather wings like a bat, and flew out a tower window. But she left the dwarf behind and Cersei means to have his head."

That's stupid, Arya thought. Sansa only knows songs, not spells, and she'd never marry the Imp.

—A Storm of Swords - Arya XIII

Songs can be spells as well, Arya... Just ask Lúthien.

The image of a giant bat riding upon a werewolf sounds pretty similar to a wolf with big leather wings like a bat.

There is also the fact that GRRM has used "bat wings" as a reference to "dragon wings," and Sansa has a lot of bat/dragon wings imagery around her.

We will come back to this bat and wolf imagery issue later.

To finish this section, I leave you with this crossover fan-art where Lúthien, very impressed, asks Sansa about the rumor of her transformation into a wolf with big leather wings like a bat.

8. Singing and dancing

Before meeting Beren, Lúthien lived a peaceful life singing and dancing beautifully in the forest:

But Tinúviel’s joy was rather in the dance, and no names are set with hers for the beauty and subtlety of her twinkling feet.

Now it was the delight of Dairon and Tinúviel to fare away from the cavernous palace of Tinwelint their father and together spend long time amid the trees. There often would Dairon sit upon a tussock or a tree-root and make music while Tinúviel danced thereto, and when she danced to the playing of Dairon more lissom was she than Gwendeling, more magical than Tinfang Warble neath the moon, nor may any see such lilting save be it only in the rose gardens of Valinor where Nessa dances on the lawns of never-fading green.

[...] “Often and often she came there after and danced and sang to herself.”

[...] At length one day as she danced alone he stepped out more boldly and said to her: ‘Tinúviel, teach me to dance.’ ‘Who art thou?’ said she. ‘Beren. I am from across the Bitter Hills.’ ‘Then if thou wouldst dance, follow me,’ said the maiden, and she danced before Beren away, and away into the woods, nimbly and yet not so fast that he could not follow, and ever and anon she would look back and laugh at him stumbling after, saying ‘Dance, Beren, dance! as they dance beyond the Bitter Hills!’ In this way they came by winding paths to the abode of Tinwelint, and Tinúviel beckoned Beren beyond the stream, and he followed her wondering down into the cave and the deep halls of her home.”

—The Tale of Tinúviel, Beren and Lúthien (2017) - J.R.R. Tolkien

As it will be explained later, Lúthien's singing and dancing are not only beautiful aesthetically, those skills were magic and worked as spells and enchantments as well.

Leaving out the actual singers, Sansa is the female character more connected with music, singing and dancing. She plays some instruments (high harp, bells), has a sweet singing voice and loves to dance:

Sansa could sew and dance and sing. She wrote poetry. She knew how to dress. She played the high harp and the bells.

—A Game of Thrones - Arya I

So the singer played for her, so soft and sad that Arya only heard snatches of the words, though the tune was half-familiar. Sansa would know it, I bet. Her sister had known all the songs, and she could even play a little, and sing so sweetly.

—A Storm of Swords - Arya IV

Winterfell, she might have said. I smell snow and smoke and pine needles. I smell the stables. I smell Hodor laughing, and Jon and Robb battling in the yard, and Sansa singing about some stupid lady fair. [...]

—A Feast for Crows - Arya II

“Of Sansa, brushing out Lady’s coat and singing to herself.”

—A Dance with Dragons - Jon XIII

When the musicians began to play, she timidly laid her hand on Tyrion's and said, "My lord, should we lead the dance?"

[...] "Lady Sansa." Ser Garlan Tyrell stood beside the dais. "Would you honor me? If your lord consents?"

The Imp's mismatched eyes narrowed. "My lady can dance with whomever she pleases."

Perhaps she ought to have remained beside her husband, but she wanted to dance so badly . . .

[...] Smiling, she let the music take her, losing herself in the steps, in the sound of flute and pipes and harp, in the rhythm of the drum . . . and from time to time in Ser Garlan's arms, when the dance brought them together.

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa III

"Lord Nestor will have no singers at the feast, only flutes and fiddles for the dancing." What would she do when the music began to play? It was a vexing question, to which her heart and head gave different answers. Sansa loved to dance, but Alayne...

—A Feast for Crows - Alayne II

"Would you honor me with this dance, my lady?"

"You're very kind," she said, as he led her to the floor.

He was her first partner of the evening, but far from the last. Just as Petyr had promised, the young knights flocked around her, vying for her favor.

[. . . ] When the dance was done she excused herself, and went back to her place to have a drink of wine.

And there he stood, Harry the Heir himself; tall, handsome, scowling. "Lady Alayne. May I partner you in this dance?"

—The Winds of Winter - Alayne I

As we will see in a next section, Sansa's singing already performed an act of magic/enchantment, she tamed a wild beast full of rage and lust.

9. Other parallels

9.1. Beautiful hair

Lúthien and Sansa have beautiful hair that is their signature feature:

[...] but dark as shadow was her hair [...]

—Canto I, The Lay of Leithian - J.R.R. Tolkien

[...] and the hair of Tinúviel which was dark and finer than the most delicate threads of twilight began suddenly to grow very fast indeed [...]

—The Tale of Tinúviel, Beren and Lúthien (2017) - J.R.R. Tolkien

Sansa had gotten their mother’s fine high cheekbones and the thick auburn hair of the Tullys.

—A Game of Thrones - Arya I

I often sent away her maid so I could brush her hair myself. She [Sansa] had auburn hair, lighter than mine, and so thick and soft . . . the red in it would catch the light of the torches and shine like copper."

—A Clash of Kings - Catelyn VII

"You will be the most beautiful woman in the hall tonight, as lovely as your lady mother at your age. I cannot seat you on the dais, but you'll have a place of honor above the salt and underneath a wall sconce. The fire will be shining in your hair, so everyone will see how fair of face you are.

—The Winds of Winter - Alayne I

Lúthien wore fragrant flowers in her beautiful black hair:

[...] and from her hair the fragrance fell

of elvenflowers in elven-dell.

—Canto V, The Lay of Leithian - J.R.R. Tolkien

The perfume of her flower-twined hair [...]

—Canto IX, The Lay of Leithian - J.R.R. Tolkien

Behind closed doors

they sat, while Beren told his tale

of Doriath; and words him fail

recalling Lúthien dancing fair

with wild white roses in her hair [...]

—A second extract from The Lay of Leithian, Beren and Lúthien (2017) - J.R.R. Tolkien

This reminds me of Jenny of Oldstones, a lady in a song famous for wearing flowers in her hair:

"There's a song," he remembered. "'Jenny of Oldstones, with the flowers in her hair.'"

—A Storm of Swords - Catelyn V

As was mentioned previously in this post, Sansa is strongly linked with flowers as well (the rose of Winterfell legend, blue winter roses, the scent of flowers along the north bank of the Trident, Loras’s red rose, Myrcella’s garden, the Roadside Rose song, etc).

Sansa wore the red rose that Loras gave her in her hair.

Sansa has a lot of parallels with Jennys of Oldstones. You can read about it here:

WE’RE ALL JUST SONGS IN THE END. IF WE ARE LUCKY: JENNY OF OLDSTONES AND THE PRINCE OF DRAGONFLIES

THE BLACK PRINCE WITH THE WHITE GUARDIAN - Jon Snow, Sansa Stark, the Tourney at Ashford Meadow and the songs about Florian and Jonquil.

9.2. Radiant

Lúthien is often described as radiant:

[...] and there she dances all alone

upon a treeless knoll of stone!

Her mantle blue with jewels white

caught all the rays of frosted light.

She shone with cold and wintry flame,

as dancing down the hill she came,

and passed his watchful silent gaze,

a glimmer as of stars ablaze.

—Canto IV, The Lay of Leithian - J.R.R. Tolkien

[...] for Luthien was the most beautiful of all the Children of Iluvatar. Blue was her raiment as the unclouded heaven, but her eyes were grey as the starlit evening; her mantle was sewn with golden flowers, but her hair was dark as the shadows of twilight. As the light upon the leaves of trees, as the voice of clear waters, as the stars above the mists of the world, such was her glory and her loveliness; and in her face was a shining light.

[...] But suddenly some power, descended from of old from divine race, possessed Luthien, and casting back her foul raiment she stood forth, small before the might of Carcharoth, but radiant and terrible.

—Chapter 19, The Silmarillion - J.R.R. Tolkien

Sansa is described as radiant by Jon:

His half sisters escorted the royal princes. Arya was paired with plump young Tommen, whose white-blond hair was longer than hers. Sansa, two years older, drew the crown prince, Joffrey Baratheon. He was twelve, younger than Jon or Robb, but taller than either, to Jon's vast dismay. Prince Joffrey had his sister's hair and his mother's deep green eyes. A thick tangle of blond curls dripped down past his golden choker and high velvet collar. Sansa looked radiant as she walked beside him, but Jon did not like Joffrey's pouty lips or the bored, disdainful way he looked at Winterfell's Great Hall.

—A Game of Thrones - Jon I

The word “radiant” has romantic connotations, especially if you consider that GRRM’s love for medieval tourneys started with the movie Ivanhoe (1952), years before he even read the actual book by Sir Walter Scott. In the movie Liz Taylor played the role of the Jew girl Rebecca, and little George fell in love with her. When the author remembered his young infatuation, he referred to the actress as “radiant.”  Read more about it here.

9.3. Skinchanging

As was explained previously, Lúthien had the ability of shapeshifting. She turned into a giant bat by wearing a female vampire's coat as a cloak and helped Beren to turn into a werewolf by wearing a werewolf's coat as a cloak as well. Then the bat rode upon the werewolf.

This image of a giant bat riding upon a werewolf is very similar to the image of Sansa turning into a wolf with big leather wings like a bat.

Sansa is a skinchanger as well.

Acording to GRRM, all the Stark children are wargs or skinchangers:

“I don’t think this is necessarily a ‘Stark’ ability, though all the children have it to one extent or another. They also realize it to one extent or another”. [Source]

Q: Are all the Stark children wargs/skin changers with their wolves? A: To a greater or lesser degree, yes, but the amount of control varies widely. [Source]

Oh, George said all the Stark children of this generation were full Wargs. I thought they were like one shot Wargs and were only bonded to their wolves but no they can warg into just about anything. Bran is just the only one working on it. [Source]

All of the Stark children were blessed with a direwolf and the ability to change skins with those magical creatures. The direwolves were sent by the old gods to protect and guide the Stark children. The direwolves are not only protectors and guides for the Stark children, they are also one with them.

Since Lady died, Sansa lost the opportunity to form a deeper bond with her wolf and to further develop and recognize her skinchanger abilities.

But I believe that Lady’s soul still remains in the world, and that’s why Bran calls and counts Sansa’s wolf as “Lady’s Shade.”

So it is possible that part of Lady still remains inside of Sansa, and that’s why Sansa always dreams with Lady (wolf dreams). Only Jon stopped dreaming with Ghost for a time, coincidentally, when they were separated by the Wall.

Most of Sansa’s dreams with Lady are about both of them running in a godswood (Lady’s bones are buried near Winterfell’s godswood), and although Sansa doesn’t remember much of her dreams, she always whispers and/or wakes up with Lady’s name on her lips. Even after her nightmares, she thinks of her Lady.

Some readers have speculated about Sansa and her link with other animals, and the possibility of Sansa changing skins with them, like the black tomcat of the Red Keep, the old blind dog of the Fingers, and even the blue falcon that she observed flying above the Eyrie.

During her encounter with the black tomcat of the Red Keep, Sansa “almost jumped out her skin.” This is a very interesting wording that almost sounds like skinchanging:

The serpentine steps twisted ahead, striped by bars of flickering light from the narrow windows above. Sansa was panting by the time she reached the top. She ran down a shadowy colonnade and pressed herself against a wall to catch her breath. When something brushed against her leg, she almost jumped out of her skin, but it was only a cat, a ragged black tom with a chewed-off ear. The creature spit at her and leapt away.

—A Clash of Kings - Sansa II

“Cats were vain and cruel, always ready to turn on you”, maybe, that’s why after approaching Sansa willingly, the black tomcat “spit at her and leapt away”. This scene happens when Sansa was coming to the godswood to meet with Dontos for the first time. After Sansa arrives, she immediately thinks of Lady.

Sansa bonds with the old blind dog of the Fingers fast and easily. The dog is affectionate, tries to defend Sansa from Marillion’s attack, and is next to her after the nightmares of past sexual abuse by the Hound and Tyrion, provoked by the singer’s attack:

It was eight long days until Lysa Arryn arrived. On five of them it rained, while Sansa sat bored and restless by the fire, beside the old blind dog. He was too sick and toothless to walk guard with Bryen anymore, and mostly all he did was sleep, but when she patted him he whined and licked her hand, and after that they were fast friends. […] “Alayne.” Her aunt’s singer stood over her. “Sweet Alayne. I am Marillion. I saw you come in from the rain. The night is chill and wet. Let me warm you.” The old dog raised his head and growled, but the singer gave him a cuff and sent him slinking off, whimpering. […] “I’ll have a song from you,” he rasped, and Sansa woke and found the old blind dog beside her once again. “I wish that you were Lady,” she said.

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa VI

And once again trapped in a tower, Sansa wishes she has wings:

A falcon soared above the frozen waterfall, blue wings spread wide against the morning sky. Would that I had wings as well.

—A Feast for Crows - Alayne I

As you can see, Sansa warging abilities are hidden so deep in the text, they only shyly appear in the middle of George’s prose as little pieces of poetry:

My skin has turned to porcelain, to ivory, to steel.

Now tell me, what is that if not skinchanging?

And talking about birds, Sansa has already changed her skin with some birds, she was a talking little bird of the Summer Islands (repeating the right things to survive), then a mockingbird (as Petyr Baelish daughter), and she’s about to become a falcon (if she marries Harry).

And since cloaks could also be considered another skin, Sansa has already changed various cloaks. She was cloaked by a Lannister, then by her new father Petyr Baelish, and is about to be cloaked again by an Arryn.

But Sansa is a wolf, no matter how many skins she wears, she will always be a wolf.

And while Sansa wishes she had feathery wings, unbeknownst to her, she became part of the popular folklore when the smallfolk began to imagine her as a witchy kingslayer that later vanished in a puff of brimstone or changed into a “wolf with big leather wings like a bat” and flew away:

“I forgot, you’ve been hiding under a rock. The northern girl. Winterfell’s daughter. We heard she killed the king with a spell, and afterward changed into a wolf with big leather wings like a bat, and flew out a tower window. But she left the dwarf behind and Cersei means to have his head.”

—A Storm of Swords - Arya XIII

“The dwarf’s wife did the murder with him,” swore an archer in Lord Rowan’s livery. “Afterward, she vanished from the hall in a puff of brimstone, and a ghostly direwolf was seen prowling the Red Keep, blood dripping from his jaws.”

—A Storm of Swords - Jaime VII

In the same book and with a very similar wording, Jon dreams of a ghastly direwolf wandering around the Crypts of Winterfell:

The crypts were growing darker. A light has gone out somewhere. “Ygritte?” he whispered. “Forgive me. Please.” But it was only a direwolf, grey and ghastly, spotted with blood, his her golden eyes shining sadly through the dark . .

—A Storm of Swords - Jon VIII

My personal theory is that the ghastly direwolf is Lady, because, among other reasons, this wouldn’t be the first time that Jon confused Ygritte with another redhead.

These legends of Sansa the witch, the unnatural warg, the beastling, the skinchanger, the winged wolf that flew away from a tower window or vanished in a puff of brimstone, are at the same level of the legends about Bloodraven warging into a one-eyed dog and turning into a mist from a century ago:

How many eyes does Lord Bloodraven have? the riddle ran. A thousand eyes, and one. Some claimed the King’s Hand was a student of the dark arts who could change his face, put on the likeness of a one-eyed dog, even turn into a mist. Packs of gaunt gray wolves hunted down his foes, men said, and carrion crows spied for him and whispered secrets in his ear. Most of the tales were only tales, Dunk did not doubt, but no one could doubt that Bloodraven had informers everywhere.

—The Mystery Knight

If Sansa or Lady’s Shade have really changed skins with the old blind dog of the Fingers, that would be almost the same as Bloodraven warging or shapechanging into a one-eyed dog. By the way, the old blind dog’s master’s name was Bryen, a name way too similar to Brynden (Bloodraven’s name)…

But back again to the “wolf with big leather wings like a bat.” This interesting image reminds me of dragons instead of bats, and I think that was precisely George’s intention, he was subtly referring to dragon wings:

[…] “They say the child was …” […] “Monstrous,” Mirri Maz Duur finished for him. […] “Twisted. I drew him forth myself. He was scaled like a lizard, blind, with the stub of a tail and small leather wings like the wings of a bat.

—A Game of Thrones - Daenerys IX

In the center of the Plaza of Pride stood a red brick fountain whose waters smelled of brimstone, and in the center of the fountain a monstrous harpy made of hammered bronze. Twenty feet tall she reared. She had a woman’s face, with gilded hair, ivory eyes, and pointed ivory teeth. Water gushed yellow from her heavy breasts. But in place of arms she had the wings of a bat or a dragon, her legs were the legs of an eagle, and behind she wore a scorpion’s curled and venomous tail.

—A Storm of Swords - Daenerys II

Tyrion scarce touched his food, Sansa noticed, though he drank several cups of the wine. For herself, she tried a little of the Dornish eggs, but the peppers burned her mouth. Otherwise she only nibbled at the fruit and fish and honeycakes. Every time Joffrey looked at her, her tummy got so fluttery that she felt as though she'd swallowed a bat.

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa IV

So, this fascinating image of a “wolf with big leather wings like a bat” could be foreshadowing of Sansa wearing a Targaryen cloak in the future. Or at least having the support and protection of someone related to dragons.

9.4. Hades and Persephone imagery

Beren and Lúthien have a heavy Hades and Persephone imagery around them.

Lúthien could melt winter into spring with the magic of her voice and song.

During their adventures, Beren was severely wounded many times, and while Lúthien had healing abilities, one time he was nearly dead and other time he actually died.

After losing his hand, Beren recovers only after a long period of unconsciousness, and it was said that when he woke the spring came again.

Later, when Beren actually died, Lúthien descended to the lands of death and winter came over the lands of her father. Then, after gaining Beren's life again, she came back to earth and ended the winter with the touch of her hands.

These quotes exempt me from further explanation:

The wind of winter winds his horn;

the misty veil is rent and torn.

The wind dies; the starry choirs

leap in the silent sky to fires

whose light comes bitter-cold and sheer

through domes of frozen crystal clear.

A sparkle through the darkling trees,

a piercing glint of light he sees,

and there she dances all alone

upon a treeless knoll of stone!

Her mantle blue with jewels white

caught all the rays of frosted light.

She shone with cold and wintry flame,

as dancing down the hill she came,

and passed his watchful silent gaze,

a glimmer as of stars ablaze.

And snowdrops sprang beneath her feet,

and one bird, sudden, late and sweet,

shrilled as she wayward passed along.

A frozen brook to bubbling song

awoke and laughed; but Beren stood

still bound enchanted in the wood.

Her starlight faded and the night

closed o'er the snowdrops glimmering white.

Thereafter on a hillock green

he saw far off the elven-sheen

of shining limb and jewel bright

often and oft on moonlit night;

and Daeron's pipe awoke once more,

and soft she sang as once before.

Then nigh he stole beneath the trees,

and heartache mingled with hearts-ease.

A night there was when winter died;

then all alone she sang and cried

and danced until the dawn of spring, [...]

—Canto IV, The Lay of Leithian - J.R.R. Tolkien

And he saw her afar as leaves in the winds of autumn, and in winter as a star upon a hill, but a chain was upon his limbs. There came a time near dawn on the eve of spring, and Luthien danced upon a green hill; and suddenly she began to sing. Keen, heart-piercing was her song as the song of the lark that rises from the gates of night and pours its voice among the dying stars, seeing the sun behind the walls of the world; and the song of Luthien released the behind the walls of the world; and the song of Luthien released the bonds of winter, and the frozen waters spoke, and flowers sprang from the cold earth where her feet had passed. Then the spell of silence fell from Beren, and he called to her, crying Tinuviel; and the woods echoed the name. Then she halted in wonder, and fled no more, and Beren came to her. But as she looked on him, doom fell upon her, and she loved him; yet she slipped from his arms and vanished from his sight even as the day was breaking.

[...] Now Beren and Luthien Tinuviel went free again and together walked through the woods renewing for a time their joy; and though winter came it hurt them not, for flowers lingered where Luthien went, and the birds sang beneath the snow clad hills.

—Chapter 19, The Silmarillion - J.R.R. Tolkien

There the eagles laid her at Beren’s side and returned to the peaks of Crissaegrim and their high eyries; but Huan came to her, and together they tended Beren, even as before when she healed him of the wound that Curufin gave to him. But this wound was fell and poisonous. Long Beren lay, and his spirit wandered upon the dark borders of death, knowing ever an anguish that pursued him from dream to dream. Then suddenly, when her hope was almost spent, he woke again, and looked up, seeing leaves against the sky; and he heard beneath the leaves singing soft and slow beside him LúthienTinúviel. And it was spring again.

Thereafter Beren was named Erchamion, which is the One-handed; and suffering was graven in his face. But at last he was drawn back to life by the love of Lúthien, and he rose, and together they walked in the woods once more.

—The Quenta Silmarillion, Beren and Lúthien (2017) - J.R.R. Tolkien

For the spirit of Beren at her bidding tarried in the halls of Mandos, unwilling to leave the world, until Lúthien came to say her last farewell upon the dim shores of the Outer Sea, whence Men that die set out never to return. But the spirit of Lúthien fell down into darkness, and at the last it fled, and her body lay like a flower that is suddenly cut off and lies for a while unwithered on the grass.

Then a winter, as it were the hoar age of mortal Men, fell upon Thingol. But Lúthien came to the halls of Mandos, where are the appointed places of the Eldalië, beyond the mansions of the West upon the confines of the world. There those that wait sit in the shadow of their thought. But her beauty was more than their beauty, and her sorrow deeper than their sorrows; and she knelt before Mandos and sang to him.

The song of Lúthien before Mandos was the song most fair that ever in words was woven, and the song most sorrowful that ever the world shall hear. Unchanged, imperishable, it is sung still in Valinor beyond the hearing of the world, and listening the Valar are grieved. For Lúthien wove two themes of words, of the sorrow of the Eldar and the grief of Men, of the Two Kindreds that were made by Ilúvatar to dwell in Arda, the Kingdom of Earth amid the innumerable stars. And as she knelt before him her tears fell upon his feet like rain upon the stones; and Mandos was moved to pity, who never before was so moved, nor has been since. Therefore he summoned Beren, and even as Lúthien had spoken in the hour of his death they met again beyond the Western Sea. But Mandos had no power to withhold the spirits of Men that were dead within the confines of the world after their time of waiting; nor could he change the fates of the Children of Ilúvatar. He went therefore to Manwë, Lord of the Valar, who governed the world under the hand of Ilúvatar; and Manwë sought counsel in his inmost thought, where the will of Ilúvatar was revealed. These were the choices that he gave to Lúthien. Because of her labours and her sorrow, she could be released from Mandos, and go to Valimar, there to dwell until the world's end among the Valar, forgetting all griefs that her life had known. Thither Beren could not come. For it was not permitted to the Valar to withhold Death from him, which is the gift of Ilúvatar to Men. But the other choice was this: that she might return to Middle-earth, and take with her Beren, there to dwell again, but without certitude of life or joy. Then she would become mortal, and subject to a second death, even as he; and ere long she would leave the world for ever, and her beauty become only a memory in song. This doom she chose, forsaking the Blessed Realm, and putting aside all claim to kinship with those that dwell there; that thus whatever grief might lie in wait, the fates of Beren and Lúthien might be joined, and their paths lead together beyond the confines of the world. So it was that alone of the Eldalië she has died indeed, and left the world long ago. Yet in her choice the Two Kindreds have been joined; and she is the forerunner of many in whom the Eldar see yet, though all the world is changed, the likeness of Lúthien the beloved, whom they have lost.

—The Lost Cantos, The Lay of Leithian - J.R.R. Tolkien

It is said that Beren and Lúthien returned to the northern lands of Middle-earth, and dwelt together for a time as living man and woman; and they took up again their mortal form in Doriath. Those that saw them were both glad and fearful; and Lúthien went to Menegroth and healed the winter of Thingol with the touch of her hand. But Melian looked in her eyes and read the doom that was written there, and turned away; for she knew that a parting beyond the end of the world had come between them, and no grief of loss has been heavier than the grief of Melian the Maia in that hour. Then Beren and Lúthien went forth alone, fearing neither thirst nor hunger; and they passed beyond the River Gelion into Ossiriand, and dwelt there in Tol Galen the green isle, in the midst of Adurant, until all tidings of them ceased. The Eldar afterwards called that country Dor Firn-i-Guinar, the Land of the Dead that Live; and there was born Dior Aranel the beautiful, who was after known as Dior Eluchíl, which is Thingol's Heir. No mortal man spoke ever again with Beren son of Barahir; and none saw Beren or Lúthien leave the world, or marked where at last their bodies lay.

—Epilogue, The Lay of Leithian - J.R.R. Tolkien

Jon and Sansa have Hades and Persephone imagery around them as well.

Jon as Hades:

Despite being born in Dorne, Jon is a son of Winterfell.

In the Prologue of A Game of Thrones we can read that Waymar Royce, Jon's stand in, died at the hands of the Others, in an eriily similar way that Jon would die four books later at the hands of his brothers of the Night's Watch (foreshadowing of Jon's death Nº 1).

Jon played to be a Ghost at the Crypts of Winterfell (foreshadowing of Jon's death Nº 2).

Jon named his mute albino direwolf Ghost (foreshadowing of Jon's death Nº 3).

And in A Dance with Dragons, Jon actually died.

One of Jon's killers was Bowen Marsh dubbed the Old Pomegranate.

We can read the words "a dream of spring" in one of Jon's chapters (A Storm of Swords - Jon V).

Sansa as Persephone:

Persephone and Sansa are renowned beauties.

Sansa was born during winter, she is the Winterfell's daughter.

Sansa is heavily linked with the dawn and the sun (Battle for the Dawn to defeat the Long Night/Long Winter).

An important theme in Sansa's arc is rebuilding, which is connected with rebuild a life after the Long Night/Long Winter. A dream of spring.

GRRM has linked Sansa to the warmer seasons (spring and summer) through her favorite dessert, lemon cakes.

Sansa is deeply associated with flowers, thus with spring.

Sansa rejected the pomegranate from Petyr "Littlefinger" Baelish.

Jon's death is foreshadowed (hidden daggers) in one of Sansa's chapters (A Storm of Swords - Sansa VI).

Sansa sensed Jon's death: "A ghost wolf, big as mountains." (A Feast for Crows - Alayne II).

Lady, part of Sansa, already died and is buried at Winterfell.

Read more about it here:

Some thoughts on Sansa and Jon, by Tze

The Pomegranate Imagery - Jonsa, ASOS.

Sansa as Persephone

The King and Queen in the North vs. the King and Queen of the Underworld

9.5. Daeron the minstrel

There often would Dairon sit upon a tussock or a tree-root and make music while Tinúviel danced thereto, and when she danced to the playing of Dairon more lissom was she than Gwendeling, more magical than Tinfang Warble neath the moon, nor may any see such lilting save be it only in the rose gardens of Valinor where Nessa dances on the lawns of never-fading green.

—The Tale of Tinúviel, Beren and Lúthien (2017) - J.R.R. Tolkien

Daeron is mentioned as one of the greatest minstrels of all the Children of Ilúvatar, and only Maglor son of Fëanor is said to come close to his skill. Also in the Lay of Leithian there is named one called Tinfang Gelion who is counted among the three great minstrels, along with Maglor and Daeron.

Daeron loved Lúthien, but she did not love him. Nevertheless they were good friends, and Lúthien would often dance to his music. After Daeron found out about Lúthien's love for the mortal Beren, he betrayed them both to Thingol. When Lúthien later sought his help in assisting captive Beren, Daeron again betrayed her to Thingol, though this time in love and fear for her rather than jealousy.

Thereafter often she came to him, and they went in secret through the woods together from spring to summer; and no others of the Children of Iluvatar have had joy so great, though the time was brief. But Daeron the minstrel also loved Luthien, and he espied her meetings with Beren, and betrayed them to Thingol. Then the King was filled with anger, for Luthien he loved above all things, setting her above all the princes of the Elves; whereas mortal Men he did not even take into his service. Therefore he spoke in grief and amazement to Luthien; but she would reveal nothing, until he swore an oath to her that he would neither slay Beren nor imprison him.

[...] In the time when Sauron cast Beren into the pit a weight of horror came upon Luthien's heart; and going to Melian for counsel she learned that Beren lay in the dungeons of Tol-in-Gaurhoth without hope of rescue. Then Luthien, perceiving that no help would come from any other on earth, resolved to fly from Doriath and come herself to him; but she sought the aid of Daeron, and he betrayed her purpose because he would not deprive Luthien of the lights of heaven, lest she fail and fade, and yet would restrain her, he caused a house to be built from which she should not escape.

[...] Upon Doriath evil days had fallen. Grief and silence had come upon all its people when Luthien was lost. Long they had sought for her in vain. And it is told that in that time Daeron the minstrel of Thingol strayed from the land, and was seen no more. He it was that made music for the dance and song of Luthien, before Beren came to Doriath; and he had loved her, and set all his thought of her in his music. He became the greatest of all the minstrels of the Elves east of the Sea, named even before Maglor son of Feanor. But seeking for Luthien in despair he wandered upon strange paths, and passing over the mountains he came into the East of Middle-earth, where for many ages he made lament beside dark waters for Luthien, daughter of Thingol, most beautiful of all living things.

—Chapter 19, The Silmarillion - J.R.R. Tolkien

Daeron reminds me of Marillion, the singer that tried to seduce and rape Sansa.

Marillion witnessed Lysa's attempt to murder Sansa and did nothing but keep singing and playing his harp. Marillion's passion for Sansa/Alayne was unrequited, similar to Daeron's unrequite love for Lúthien.

9.6. Foes

During the events of the Quest for the Silmaril, Lúthien defeated mighty foes, among them were:

Sauron: Lúthien flung her cloak over Sauron's face, and he was struck by the blinding enchantment of weariness. Huan used the opportunity to take Sauron by the throat. Sauron tried to escape by shape shifting, but Huan held him down. Lúthien then demanded Sauron to yield the mastery of the tower to her, less Huan should destroy his mortal form. Sauron yielded, and fled the scene. Lúthien, having received mastery of the tower, laid waste to the fortress with her magic. The walls were destroyed and the prisons were broken. Lúthien found Beren and healed him.

Carcharoth: Suddenly some power, descended from divine race, possessed Lúthien, and casting back her raiment she stood forth, radiant and terrible. Lifting up her hand she commanded Carcharoth to sleep and he was felled, as if lightning had struck him.

Morgoth: Lúthien was undaunted by Morgoth and she offered to dance and sing for him in the manner of a minstrel. He beheld her with lust, of which came a secret desire to do some unspeakable evil to Lúthien. Morgoth accepted for this reason, but Lúthien sang a song of such enchantment and blinding power that all his court fell into a deep sleep and all the fires faded. The Silmarils in the crown on Morgoth's head suddenly blazed with a radiance of white flame and the burden of his crown and of the jewels bowed down his head, laden with a weight of care and fear that even the will of Morgoth could not bear. Then Lúthien, catching up her winged robe, sprang into the air and by casting her cloak before his eyes she set upon him a dark dream. Morgoth was cast down in slumber.

Mandos: Eventually Carcharoth was discovered by Thingol's warriors, and the wolf was attacked. Thingol was nearly slain, but Beren saved him and was mortally wounded. Huan then fought with Carcharoth and slew him, with both dying. The Silmaril was cut from Carcharoth's burned flesh, and Beren presented it at last to Thingol before he died. Thingol then held Beren with respect, but Lúthien commanded Beren to wait for her in the Undying Lands. Lúthien passed away in grief, and her spirit came to the Halls of Mandos. There she sang a song of such woe and lamentation, that even Mandos himself was moved to pity. He summoned Beren's spirit, and the two were reunited. Then he went to Manwë, who sought counsel from Eru and so the will of Ilúvatar was revealed. Thus, Lúthien was faced with a choice; to remain in Valinor and its eternal bliss, or for her and Beren to return to Middle-earth as mortals, after which they would die a second death. Lúthien chose the latter, and she and Beren returned to Doriath.

As you can see Lúthien defeated mighty evil enemies, including the death. Lúthien did all those deeds with her magic enchantments, singing and dancing, skills that can be compared with Sansa's kindness, mercifulness, courtesy and knowledge next to her sweet voice and dancing.

Sansa was also prophesied by the Ghost of High Heart to be involved in the death of the cruel King Joffrey Baratheon (that already happened), and in the slain of a savage giant in a castle made of snow, that is probably Petyr "Littlefinger" Baelish. Another candidates are Tyrion Lannister and Gregor Clegane.

There is also the prophecy of Maggy the Frog, that involves Sansa in the downfall of Cersie Lannister.

And finally, we have to count Sansa's song of mercy (the Mother's Hymn), that placated the rage and lust of Sandor Clegane during the night of the Battle of the Blackwater and prevented the Hound's assault, as parallel with Luthien enchanting Morgoth into slumber, that prevented his evil assault: "He beheld her with lust, of which came a secret desire to do some unspeakable evil to Lúthien."

10. Beren and Lúthien as inspiration for Jon and Sansa

Among the tales of sorrow and of ruin that come down to us from the darkness of those days there are yet some in which amid weeping there is joy and under the shadow of death light that endures. And of these histories most fair still in the ears of the Elves is the tale of Beren and Lúthien. Of their lives was made the Lay of Leithian, Release from Bondage, which is the longest save one of the songs concerning the world of old. Here follows their tale and what remains of the Lay.

—Prologue, The Lay of Leithian - J.R.R. Tolkien

Lúthien's love of the mortal Beren, for whom she was prepared to risk everything, including her life, was legendary and lamented forever in song and story.

Lúthien's romance with Beren was one of the great stories of the Elder Days that were told for many ages after she lived, and it was said that her bloodline will never extinguish.

The union of Beren and Lúthien was the first between a mortal Man and an Elven maid.

Lúthien's romance with Beren is mirrored by the later romance between Aragorn and Arwen Evenstar.

According to legend, Lúthien's line would never be broken as long as the world lasted.

As you can see, the tale of Beren and Lúthien is a song that can be compared to the songs about Florian and Jonquil.

Sansa is the character that loves songs the most, particularly the songs about Florian and Jonquil, that are her very favorites.

I have speculated/theorized before that Jon Snow is the best candidate to be the Florian to Sansa's Jonquil.

And as other excellent meta writers have pointed out already, Jon Snow is the best candidate to be the Beren to Sansa's Lúthien.

So here I'm going to show you my take on the matter.

Singing

As I recently found out, we have this beautiful parallel between Beren and Lúthien & Jon and Sansa:

“Often and often she came there after and danced and sang to herself.”

—The Tale of Tinúviel, Beren and Lúthien (2017) - J.R.R. Tolkien

“Of Sansa, brushing out Lady’s coat and singing to herself.”

—A Dance with Dragons - Jon XIII

As you can see, a man observing a girl singing is an old and obvious romantic trope, especially used in fairy tales. Here a graphic example.

Dancing

Alys Karstark’ wedding, organized by Jon Snow, happened in a very similar way to Sansa’s dream wedding:

”It was not supposed to be this way. She had dreamed of her wedding a thousand times, and always she had pictured how her betrothed would stand behind her tall and strong, sweep the cloak of his protection over her shoulders, and tenderly kiss her cheek as he leaned forward to fasten the clasp”.

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa III

“The Magnar all but ripped the maiden’s cloak from Alys’s shoulders, but when he fastened her bride’s cloak about her he was almost tender. As he leaned down to kiss her cheek, their breath mingled”.

—A Dance with Dragons - Jon X.

During Sansa's wedding she didn't dance with her husband. Her first dance as a married woman was with Ser Garland Tyrell, a knight that shares important parallels with Jon Snow.

Jon and Garlan are good with swords (better than Robb and Loras). Both Jon and Garlan like to train with more than one sparring partner to be better prepared to battle. Both Jon and Garlan have ghost imagery around them. While Jon was killed and got a direwolf from the old gods that he called Ghost, Garlan won the Battle of the Blackwater fighting under the guise of Renly’s Ghost.

During Alys's wedding Jon Snow rejected her offer to dance by telling her she must dance with her husband.

“You could dance with me, you know. It would be only courteous. You danced with me anon.”

“Anon?” teased Jon.

“When we were children.” She tore off a bit of bread and threw it at him. “As you know well.”

“My lady should dance with her husband.”

—Jon, A Dance With Dragons

Despite rejecting dancing with her, Jon Snow kept in mind Aly's wrong phrasing: "You danced with me anon."

Later he had the following thought:

A snowflake danced upon the air. Then another. Dance with me, Jon Snow, he thought. You'll dance with me anon.

—A Dance with Dragons - Jon XII

While snowflakes falling reminds Jon of dancing, snowflakes falling reminds Sansa of lover's kisses:

Drifting snowflakes brushed her face as light as lover's kisses, and melted on her cheeks.

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa VII

I suppose that kisses, like loving, is another form of dance.

Bat and wolf imagery

We also have the bat and wolf imagery around Beren and Lúthien. These lovers, husband and wife, turned into a giant bat and a werewolf, an image that reminds me of Sansa turning into "a wolf with big leather wings like a bat."

Indeed, after Sansa ran away from King’s Landing the day King Joffrey Baratheon was killed, the rumors about her participation in the murder started. Among the smallfolk runs the tale that after killing the king, Sansa morphed into “a wolf with big leather wings like a bat”  and flew away.

As was previously explained, GRRM has intentionally connected bat wings with dragon wings. So, this fascinating image of Sansa as “a wolf with big leather wings like a bat” could represent Sansa (a wolf) wearing a Targaryen cloak (dragon wings). Or at least having the support and protection of someone related to dragons (that is, Jon Snow).

This image alludes to the protection of a marriage, since when a groom “cloaks” his bride, it is said that he takes her under his protection.

Hades and Persephone imagery

We also have the Hades and Persephone imagery around Beren and Lúthien.

Lúthien could melt winter into spring with the magic of her voice and song.

Thanks to Lúthien's love and cares, the moment Beren woke up from a long period of unconsciousness after losing his hand, spring returned again.

When Beren died, Lúthien descended to the lands of death and gained Beren's life back. Then Lúthien came back to earth and ended the winter with the touch of her hand.

And as was explained before, Jon and Sansa have Hades and Persephone imagery around them as well. See above.

This is yet one more legendary couple who shares parallels with Jon and Sansa.

And since Lúthien's singing was the weapon that gained Beren's life back, this could be foreshadowing of Sansa's singing having an important role in Jon's arc during or after his resurrection.

It is vastly speculated that Jon will come back to life beast-like since he would inhabit ​inside Ghost for a while, thus Sansa's singing could be instrumental for taming Jon's beast-like form or to make him gaining back his memory.

Beauty and the Beast imagery

Lúthien's renowned beauty was extensively discussed already. Now let's see the beast allusions related to Beren:

Thereafter for four years more Beren wandered still upon Dorthonion, a solitary outlaw; but he became the friend of birds and beasts, and they aided him, and did not betray him, and from that time forth he ate no flesh nor slew any living thing that was not in the service of Morgoth.

[...] But she vanished from his sight; and he became dumb, as one that is bound under a spell, and he strayed long in the woods, wild and wary as a beast, seeking for her. In his heart he called her Tinuviel, that signifies Nightingale, daughter of twilight, in the Grey-elven tongue, for he knew no other name for her. And he saw her afar as leaves in the winds of autumn, and in winter as a star upon a hill, but a chain was upon his limbs.

[...] Beneath the Shadowy Mountains they came upon a company of Orcs, and slew them all in their camp by night; and they took their gear and their weapons. By the arts of Felagund their own forms and faces were changed into the likeness of Orcs; and thus disguised they came far upon their northward road, and ventured into the western pass, between Ered Wethrin and the highlands of Taur-nu-Fuin.

[...] By the counsel of Huan and the arts of Luthien he was arrayed now in the hame of Draugluin, and she in the winged fell of ThurIngwethil. Beren became in all things like a werewolf to look upon, save that in his eyes there shone a spirit grim indeed but clean; and horror was in his glance as he saw upon his flank a batlike creature clinging with creased wings. Then howling under the moon he leaped down the hill, and the bat wheeled and flittered above him.

[...] As a dead beast Beren lay upon the ground; but Luthien touching him with her hand aroused him, and he cast aside the wolf-hame. Then he drew forth the knife Angrist; and from the iron claws that held it he cut a Silmaril.

—Chapter 19, The Silmarillion - J.R.R. Tolkien

Beren also formed a strong bond with Huan, the great wolfhound, a magical creature gifted by a god. This bond resembles somehow the bond between Jon and Ghost.

Beren stood beside Thingol, and suddenly they were aware that Huan had left their side. Then a great baying awoke in the thicket; for Huan becoming impatient and desiring to look upon this wolf had gone in alone to dislodge him. But Carcharoth avoided him, and bursting form the thorns leaped suddenly upon Thingol. Swiftly Beren strode before him with a spear, but Carcharoth swept it aside and felled him, biting at his breast. In that moment Huan leaped from the thicket upon the back of the Wolf, and they fell together fighting bitterly; and no battle of wolf and hound has been like to it, for in the baying of Huan was heard the voice of the horns of Orome and the wrath of the Valar, but in the howls of Carcharoth was the hate of Morgoth and malice crueller than teeth of steel; and the rocks were rent by their clamour and fell from on high and choked the falls of Esgalduin. There they fought to the death; but Thingol gave no heed, for he knelt by Beren, seeing that he was sorely hurt. Huan in that hour slew Carcharoth; but there in the woven woods of Doriath his own doom long spoken was fulfilled, and he was wounded mortally, and the venom of Morgoth entered into him. Then he came, and falling beside Beren spoke for the third time with words; and he bade Beren farewell before he died. Beren spoke not, but laid his hand upon the head of the hound, and so they parted.

—Chapter 19, The Silmarillion - J.R.R. Tolkien

Sansa's beauty is also renowned and was discussed above (Here a compilation of all the quotes about Sansa's beauty).

Sansa and Jon are also both wargs/skinchangers, but while Lady was the smallest, the prettiest, the most gentle and trusting of the litter; Ghost is the biggest of the litter and is often described as a savage beast.

Now let's see the beast allusions related to Jon and Ghost:

Ser Alliser Thorne shattered the silence. “The turncloak graces us with his presence at last.”

Lord Janos was red-faced and quivering. “The beast,” he gasped. “Look! The beast that tore the life from Halfhand. A warg walks among us, brothers. A WARG! This … this creature is not fit to lead us! This beastling is not fit to live!”

Ghost bared his teeth, but Jon put a hand on his head. “My lord,” he said, “will you tell me what’s happened here?”

—A Storm of Swords - Jon XII

“Then you had best be on your way, boy.” Slynt laughed, dribbling porridge down his chest. “Greyguard’s a good place for the likes of you, I’m thinking. Well away from decent godly folk. The mark of the beast is on you, bastard.”

—A Dance with Dragons - Jon II

Dolorous Edd took hold of Slynt by one arm, Iron Emmett by the other. Together they hauled him from the bench. “No,” Lord Janos protested, flecks of porridge spraying from his lips. “No, unhand me. He’s just a boy, a bastard. His father was a traitor. The mark of the beast is on him, that wolf of his … Let go of me! You will rue the day you laid hands on Janos Slynt. I have friends in King’s Landing. I warn you—” He was still protesting as they half-marched, half-dragged him up the steps.

—A Dance with Dragons - Jon II

My friend @really-sad-devil-guy wrote a series of metas about Sansa and the Beauty and the Beast trope. This series is unfinished at the moment but you can read the parts already posted here:

Sansa’s “Beauty and the Beast” Arc, Part 1

Sansa’s “Beauty and the Beast” Arc, Part 2

Sansa’s “Beauty and the Beast” Arc, Part 3

Sansa’s “Beauty and the Beast” Arc, Part 4

Sansa’s “Beauty and the Beast” Arc, Part 5

You can also read the posts I wrote about this subject here:

In the original fairy tale ‘La Belle et la Bête’ by Madame de Villeneuve, Beauty and Beast/Prince are cousins 

Some fanon/made up things that certain shippers claim to be canon about their ship & the Beauty and the Beast Trope

There is a version of Beauty and the Beast where the Beast is a white wolf 

Endless lineage

As was mentioned before, the union of Beren and Lúthien was the first between a mortal Man and an Elven maid.

According to legend, Lúthien’s bloodline would never be broken as long as the world lasted.

Lúthien’s romance with Beren is mirrored by the later romance between Aragorn and Arwen Evenstar.

Aragorn and Arwen were first cousins many times removed and both descend of Beren and Lúthien.

In the case of Jon and Sansa, both are deeply connected to the continuity of the Stark bloodline.

I extensively wrote about Jon and Sansa and their connections to Winterfell in this post: i carry your heart with me (i carry it in my. Among these connections, here are the most noteworthy:

“The snow fell and the castle rose”

GRRM has directly associated Jon Snow and Sansa’s snow castle.

Jon and Sansa share the dream of rebuilding Winterfell, their ancestral home and seat of House Stark. This shared dream is beautifully represented by Sansa building a scale model of Winterfell out of “snow”.

What do I want with snowballs? She looked at her sad little arsenal. There’s no one to throw them at. She let the one she was making drop from her hand. I could build a snow knight instead, she thought. Or even…

[…] The snow fell and the castle rose. Two walls ankle-high, the inner taller than the outer. Towers and turrets, keeps and stairs, a round kitchen, a square armory, the stables along the inside of the west wall. It was only a castle when she began, but before very long Sansa knew it was Winterfell. She found twigs and fallen branches beneath the snow and broke off the ends to make the trees for the godswood. For the gravestones in the lichyard she used bits of bark. Soon her gloves and her boots were crusty white, her hands were tingling, and her feet were soaked and cold, but she did not care. The castle was all that mattered. Some things were hard to remember, but most came back to her easily, as if she had been there only yesterday. The Library Tower, with the steep stonework stair twisting about its exterior. The gatehouse, two huge bulwarks, the arched gate between them, crenellations all along the top…

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa VII

“Drink this.” Grenn held a cup to his lips. Jon drank. His head was full of wolves and eagles, the sound of his brothers’ laughter. The faces above him began to blur and fade. They can’t be dead. Theon would never do that. And Winterfell … grey granite, oak and iron, crows wheeling around the towers, steam rising off the hot pools in the godswood, the stone kings sitting on their thrones … how could Winterfell be gone?

—A Storm of Swords - Jon VI

Winterfell, he thought. Theon left it burned and broken, but I could restore it. Surely his father would have wanted that, and Robb as well. They would never have wanted the castle left in ruins.

—A Storm of Swords - Jon XII

There is also the fact that Jon is heavily associated with “snow” while Sansa is heavily associated with “stone.”

Winterfell is a grey “stone” castle that is cloaked by white “snow,” like a perfect marriage.

Jon and the Wall represent the “shield that guards the realms of men.” Sansa feels stronger within the “walls” of Winterfell.

All of these images allude to the protection of a marriage, since when a groom “cloaks” his bride, it is said that he takes her under his protection.

“The blood of Winterfell”

Among all the Stark children, Jon and Sansa are the only ones that are called, or call themselves, “the blood of Winterfell.”

Jon’s throat was raw. He looked at them all helplessly. “She yielded herself to me.” “Then you must do what needs be done,” Qhorin Halfhand said. “You are the blood of Winterfell and a man of the Night’s Watch.”

—A Clash of Kings - Jon VI

When the dreams took him, he found himself back home once more, splashing in the hot pools beneath a huge white weirwood that had his father’s face. Ygritte was with him, laughing at him, shedding her skins till she was naked as her name day, trying to kiss him, but he couldn’t, not with his father watching. He was the blood of Winterfell, a man of the Night’s Watch. I will not father a bastard, he told her. I will not. I will not.

—A Storm of Swords - Jon VI

“What if Lord Nestor values honor more than profit?” Petyr put his arm around her. “What if it is truth he wants, and justice for his murdered lady?” He smiled. “I know Lord Nestor, sweetling. Do you imagine I’d ever let him harm my daughter?” I am not your daughter, she thought. I am Sansa Stark, Lord Eddard’s daughter and Lady Catelyn’s, the blood of Winterfell. She did not say it, though.

—A Feast for Crows - Sansa I

This phrasing “the blood of Winterfell” implies blood lineage of House Stark, and Jon and Sansa both dream of having children that would bear the names of their siblings: Robb, Bran, Rickon and Arya.

Willas would be Lord of Highgarden and she would be his lady. She pictured the two of them sitting together in a garden with puppies in their laps, or listening to a singer strum upon a lute while they floated down the Mander on a pleasure barge. If I give him sons, he may come to love me. She would name them Eddard and Brandon and Rickon, and raise them all to be as valiant as Ser Loras. And to hate Lannisters, too. In Sansa’s dreams, her children looked just like the brothers she had lost. Sometimes there was even a girl who looked like Arya.

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa II

I would need to steal her if I wanted her love, but she might give me children. I might someday hold a son of my own blood in my arms. A son was something Jon Snow had never dared dream of, since he decided to live his life on the Wall. I could name him Robb. Val would want to keep her sister’s son, but we could foster him at Winterfell, and Gilly’s boy as well. Sam would never need to tell his lie. We’d find a place for Gilly too, and Sam could come visit her once a year or so. Mance’s son and Craster’s would grow up brothers, as I once did with Robb.

—A Storm of Swords - Jon XII

This is connected with the motif of rebuilding Winterfell, Jon and Sansa not only can rebuild the castle but the Stark family.

“Children of the Mountain”

Among all the Stark children, Jon and Sansa are the only ones that are called "children of the mountain".

Soon they were high enough so that looking down was best not considered. There was nothing below but yawning blackness, nothing above but moon and stars. “The mountain is your mother,” Stonesnake had told him during an easier climb a few days past. “Cling to her, press your face up against her teats, and she won’t drop you.” Jon had made a joke of it, saying how he’d always wondered who his mother was, but never thought to find her in the Frostfangs. It did not seem nearly so amusing now. One step and then another, he thought, clinging tight.

—A Clash of Kings - Jon VI

“You’re mistaken. I never fall.” Mya’s hair had tumbled across her cheek, hiding one eye. “Almost, I said. I saw you. Weren’t you afraid? “Mya shook her head. “I remember a man throwing me in the air when I was very little. He stands as tall as the sky, and he throws me up so high it feels as though I’m flying. We’re both laughing, laughing so much that I can hardly catch a breath, and finally I laugh so hard I wet myself, but that only makes him laugh the louder. I was never afraid when he was throwing me. I knew that he would always be there to catch me.” She pushed her hair back. “Then one day he wasn’t. Men come and go. They lie, or die, or leave you. A mountain is not a man, though, and a stone is a mountain’s daughter. I trust my father, and I trust my mules. I won’t fall.” She put her hand on a jagged spur of rock, and got to her feet. “Best finish. We have a long way yet to go, and I can smell a storm.”

—A Feast for Crows - Alayne II

Coincidentally in reference to two snowy mountains, the Frostfangs beyond the Wall and the mountains at the Eyrie.

The word Winterfell could mean “wintry mountain(s)” A snowy mountain is basically “stone” covered by “snow”, like a perfect marriage.

This is connected with the motif of rebuilding Winterfell and the Stark family.

You can read more about this subject (Beren and Lúthien as inspiration for Jon and Sansa) in this series of metas written by @fedonciadale back in 2018:

Tolkien and GRRM - The tale of Beren and Luthien and the allusions to Jonsa - part 1 - the meeting

Tolkien and GRRM - The tale of Beren and Luthien and the allusions to Jonsa - part 2 - Beren’s oath and first failure

Tolkien and GRRM - The tale of Beren and Luthien and the allusions to Jonsa - part 3 - Beren’s and Luthien’s get the Silmaril

Tolkien and GRRM - Aragorn and Arwen

11. Bonus: from real life to fiction

Lúthien was largely inspired from Edith Bratt (Tolkien's wife) and when she died, Tolkien asked his son Christopher to include Lúthien in her gravestone, as he considered her "my Lúthien."

In on of his letters (Nº 340), Tolkien said: "I never called Edith 'Lúthien' – but she was the source of the story that in time became the chief pan of the Silmarillion. It was first conceived in a small woodland glade filled with hemlocks at Roos in Yorkshire (where I was for a brief time in command of an outpost of the Humber Garrison in 1917, and she was able to live with me for a while). In those days her hair was raven, her skin clear, her eyes brighter than you have seen them, and she could sing – and dance. But the story has gone crooked, & I am left, and I cannot plead before the inexorable Mandos."

In the movie Tolkien (2019) the film recreates this scene, as you can see in this gifset.

In the same way, I believe that GRRM took inspiration from his wife Parris McBride, certain real life events and traits, and gave those to two of his heroines, Brienne and Sansa.

When Martin and McBride met, at a convention in Nashville in 1975, she told him that one of his stories, “A Song for Lya,” had made her cry. The gathering was in the free-spirited mode of the times—in an autobiographical essay, Martin notes that, when this conversation took place, they were both naked. (He does not elaborate.) He was, however, engaged to someone else. McBride went to work for a travelling circus for a while. By the time he moved to Santa Fe, in 1979, she was waiting tables in Portland, Oregon. They’d kept in touch, and after his marriage broke up they began what McBride calls a “fannish romance,” meeting at conventions and exchanging letters. In 1981, he persuaded her to move to New Mexico.

The New Yorker - April 11, 2011 Issue

And about they both being naked when they met, he later elaborates:

I met Parris for the first time at the 1975 Kublakhan in Nashville. A bunch of us were having a party in the women’s sauna and she walked in. I came to immediate attention.

Parris | George R.R. Martin

This naked encounter is compared by fans to this Jaime and Brienne passage:

She jerked to her feet as if he’d struck her, sending a wash of hot water across the tub. Jaime caught a glimpse of the thick blonde bush at the juncture of her thighs as she climbed out. She was much hairier than his sister. Absurdly, he felt his cock stir beneath the bathwater. Now I know I have been too long away from Cersei. He averted his eyes, troubled by his body’s response.

—A Storm of Swords - Jaime V

We can even draw some parallels between Beren and Lúthien and Jaime and Brienne.

Like Lúthien, Brienne dances, but she dances with her sword. While Jaime, like Beren, lost a hand.

The possibility that GRRM may have used his wife Parris McBride as inspiration for Brienne and Sansa, makes a lot of sense if we consider that, according to GRRM himself, Brienne is Sansa with a sword.

But it is the mention of Parris crying while reading “A Song for Lya”, a bittersweet ending story with a radiant auburn haired beauty, what reminds me very much of Sansa.

Sansa is fond of sweet and sad songs, of bittersweet tales and stories, and she is often moved to tears by their sadness and beauty:

Sansa listened raptly while the king’s high harper sang songs of chivalry [...]

—A Clash of Kings - Bran III

Later, while Sansa was off listening to a troupe of singers perform the complex round of interwoven ballads called the “Dance of the Dragons,” [...]

—A Game of Thrones - Eddard VII

She pulled a chair close to the hearth, took down one of her favorite books, and lost herself in the stories of Florian and Jonquil, of Lady Shella and the Rainbow Knight, of valiant Prince Aemon and his doomed love for his brother’s queen.

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa IV

For those who remained, a singer was brought forth to fill the hall with the sweet music of the high harp. He sang of Jonquil and Florian, of Prince Aemon the Dragonknight and his love for his brother’s queen, of Nymeria’s ten thousand ships. They were beautiful songs, but terribly sad. Several of the women began to weep, and Sansa felt her own eyes growing moist.

—A Clash of Kings - Sansa VI

Lady Ashara was my aunt. I never knew her, though. She threw herself into the sea from atop the Palestone Sword before I was born.”

“Why would she do that?” said Arya, startled.

[…] "Why did she jump in the sea, though?"

"Her heart was broken."

Sansa would have sighed and shed a tear for true love, but Arya just thought it was stupid. She couldn't say that to Ned, though, not about his own aunt. "Did someone break it?"

—A Storm of Swords - Arya VIII

Sansa is often moved to tears at the presence of beauty, as Jon's fond memories of her tell us:

The pale pink light of dawn sparkled on branch and leaf and stone. Every blade of grass was carved from emerald, every drip of water turned to diamond. Flowers and mushrooms alike wore coats of glass. Even the mud puddles had a bright brown sheen. Through the shimmering greenery, the black tents of his brothers were encased in a fine glaze of ice.

So there is magic beyond the Wall after all. He found himself thinking of his sisters, perhaps because he'd dreamed of them last night. Sansa would call this an enchantment, and tears would fill her eyes at the wonder of it, but Arya would run out laughing and shouting, wanting to touch it all.

—A Clash of Kings - Jon III

So, in a similar way that Edith inspired Lúthien, I believe Parris inspired Brienne and Sansa.

It is evident that his first encounter with Parris deeply impacted GRRM, so much that he took certain real life events and certain traits of his wife and gave those to two of the heroines of his magnum opus. Particularly Sansa, since she is a main character and the princess of the story, that shares parallels with powerful women from History and with important characters of classic fantasy sagas, like Tolkien's Lúthien in this case.

There you have it. Sansa is the Lúthien figure in the universe of A Song of Ice and Fire.

I'm sure there are more parallels between Lúthien and Sansa, I'm not an expert in the LOTR books, the only book I read so far is the one I used to write this post: Beren and Lúthien (2017), so maybe I will be revisiting this post in the future with more findings.

[harrypotterandthefandomaccount]

Headcanons For Being A Student And Dating Professor Remus Lupin

request: Can you do headcannons for professor lupin x student reader?

Note: You are of age in this!!

-

The two of you met while on the Hogwarts Express, finding no other cart to sit in but his - he was asleep, anyways.

The ride to Hogwarts was quiet, Lupin’s quiet breaths being the only sound within the cart until screams were heard down the hall of the train.

It got very cold all of a sudden and you shivered, wrapping your coat around you tighter as you noticed a raggedy-looking black figure hovering over the door to the compartment.

Gasping, you shuffled closer to the windows of the cart as you realized the figure was coming into the room, hiding your face in your coat.

“Expecto Patronum!” a voice yelled, propelling the figure out of the train entirely

You looked at the once-sleeping man, a smile now on his face “Professor Lupin, at your service. I’m the new DADA Professor.”

You were so lucky that you decided to take DADA that year, blushing at his introduction, then introducing yourself to your new teacher.

The rest of the train ride, the two of you shared pieces of chocolate and he taught you all about what dementors were and how he dispelled them.

If you were shaking after the incident, Remus would sit next to you and hold your hands tight, reminding you that the dementor was no longer there.

Hopping off the train, he’d wink at you and say that he’d see you around - you failed to mention you were taking his class.

First day of classes, he was a bit surprised to see you right in the front, face becoming a bit red but he continued on throughout his lessons.

After the Boggarts lesson, you’d ask Professor Lupin for a bit more practice after class, and you were sirius (lol serious, sirius, get it?)

He’d be all for it, training you in the courtyard after hours and praising you for every little thing you did

Remus would be beaming, so proud of how far along you’ve come in his class; every time you’d look back at him for dispelling your Boggart, he’d always have a smile on his face.

“Look at you, my star student! Did you see that? Merlin, I could not be prouder.” “Really, Professor?” “Really.”

Remus would slowly start off with kisses on the head, nothing too affectionate. When he’d teach you things further advanced than the rest of the class, then he’d give you kisses on both your cheeks, face beaming.

Until you get yourself into trouble with the Golden Trio and he finds you in the Whomping Willow with them.

He scolds you first, even before Harry and the others, which actually surprises himself.

Would drag you back to Hogwarts himself (let’s pretend it wasn’t a full moon and he didn’t transform bc why not) and say how angry he was with you, going overprotective.

Once he closes the door to his classroom, he overlooks you for injuries, just making sure you’re okay until you smack his shoulder, “Remus, I’m fine!” “Just making sure, darling, what you did was pretty stupid.”

He’d look you in the eyes after calling you darling, testing the waters. You’d smile at him, making him chuckle as he’d touch your nose with his, leaning in to give you a kiss.

From then on, you two would be extremely careful about your relationship - for obvious reasons, nobody knows about it. On the outside, it just looks like a great bond between a student and a teacher (and there is nothing wrong with that!!!!)

Remus would be so careful with you, literally and metaphorically. He’d take care of you for every little thing and would brush your hair out of your face, making sure you weren’t hurt or in pain.

He’d also be careful about how much attention he paid you - he could play favorites, but not girlfriend favorites.

If you ever asked a question in class, he’d smile big and give you praise - but it’d mean more. During a test, he’d make sure to lay a hand on your back or shoulder. If you come to his desk, Remus would put a hand on your lower back, making sure no other student could see it.

Would scootch closer to you to smell your perfume or hair, smiling to himself as you’d shiver.

Looked for you during his free period and shockingly, both of your free’s lined up. Usually, you’d be in the Potions classroom with Snape’s permission.

The two of them cared for you as a student - but Remus more than Snape - so Severus wouldn’t be annoyed whenever Remus would help you with Potions or just hanging out with you. The three of you would have lovely conversations, actually; the tension between them was almost nonexistent to you but not for them.

If you were in the library, he’d make it seem like he was helping you with understanding the material. Would definitely hold your thigh under the table, his thumb rubbing smooth circles on your skin.

Remus would be the type of guy, further in the relationship, to tell you to wear your skirt shorter one day just so he could get a good look - without being suspicious or demeaning towards you.

If you played Quidditch, he’d cheer the loudest for you, being a supportive boyfriend. The staff wouldn’t think anything weird of it - just him being proud of one of his best students.

If not, he’d steal glances to you during the game just to see your face light up at a certain play.

Remus would take you on dates in Hogsmeade, but only in secluded parts where other students/teachers wouldn’t be able to find you two. Either it be a picnic or a restaurant, he’d make you laugh the entire time and hold your hand.

Kind of shy about PDA but would give you lots of kisses in private and would brush your hands if you walked past each other in the Hogwarts halls.

Would whisper that he loves you whenever he got the chance.

NSFW BELOW THE CUT

Remus would love seeing you ride him, bouncing up and down on his cock as you’d writhe in pleasure above him.

After hours, you bet he would pull you into his classroom and fuck you on his desk, messing up all the papers just to show that you come before everything else.

Loves seeing that same mess on his desk the next morning.

Can and will call you names during sex but only if you ask for it - like cum/cock slut, little girl, sweet girl, etc but nothing too demeaning b/c he always says he loves you afterwards

Compliments you and your body constantly, saying you have perfect tits, the best pussy to accommodate his cock, the loveliest moans to hear.

Loves eating pussy and nobody can tell me otherwise

Remus will make you feel like a goddess while he eats you out, no doubt about it. Grabbing your tits, opening up your pussy to taste you even more, marking your thighs with his teeth.

Mans is gifted, all i’m saying

Will grow confidence during sex and make you say that he’s the best you’ll ever have, that nobody else can satisfy you like he does.

Just loves looking at you while you cum, knowing he made you feel that good and only he gets to see that face.

[petersasteria]

Love Documentary - Harry Holland

Harry || Main || Taglist

Pairing: Harry x Reader

Requested? Nah.

3,470 words

TW; one mention of death, heartbreaking

* * * *

“Hi everyone! I’m Harry Holland and what you’re about to see, are short interviews that I did with people as I ask about what great love really is. Sit back, relax, and enjoy this love-filled journey.”

-

“Are you ready?” Harry asked and the old couple looked at him and nodded with a smile. Harry smiled too and started filming them. “So, how did you two meet?”

“We were childhood best friends.” The old man smiled as he reminisced the early days of his childhood. “I was a hopeless romantic and she wasn’t, but it all worked out in the end.”

“He was really cheesy.” The old man’s wife added with a laugh, causing Harry to laugh too. “He recited lines from movies just to get me to be with him. It was like he knew that we’d end up together.”

“Did the lines work?” Harry asked.

“They didn’t, but look where we are now.” The old lady smiled at her husband.

“We’ve been married for 60 years.” The old man proudly said.

“Are you each other’s greatest love?” Harry asked.

“I’d say we are.” The old man responded as the old lady nodded in agreement.

“We are.”

“So, for you, what is great love?” Harry asked. That was the important question. He needed that to be answered.

“Great love is loving someone unconditionally. No matter what happens between the two of you, you’ll still love them.” The old lady answered. “Right?” She looked at her husband.

“Right.”

-

Harry sits behind the camera as he watches the old man sit comfortably in his seat. The old man nods at Harry, signaling that he’s ready to be interviewed. Harry smiled softly and started recording.

“Please tell me your name, sir.”

“My name is Henry and I’m 82 years old.” Henry, the old man, said. Harry nodded before looking down on his notebook to write Henry’s name and age. After doing so, he read the question that he wrote there earlier.

“Who is your great love?” Harry asked.

“That’s easy; it’s my wife.” Henry answered with a sweet smile. “She’s the loveliest person you’ll ever meet and she makes the most delicious pancakes from scratch.”

“She sounds lovely.” Harry smiled. “How long have you two been married?”

“55 years this year, but this will be the first time I’ll be celebrating without her. She passed away.” Henry shared. The sadness was evident in his eyes and it made Harry sad.

“How did you two meet?”

“We met at a car repair shop. She was the mechanic and I was there getting my car fixed. She was the only girl I’ve ever been with and I have no regrets. Everyday, she loved me like there was no tomorrow. No one’s ever loved me like that and I will forever yearn for it.” Henry said, not bothering to wipe the tears streaming down his face.

“And, what’s great love for you?” Harry asked.

“For me, great love is being an all in one person for your one and only person. You’re the best friend, the sidekick, the lover; everything. When you meet your great love, you wouldn’t find anyone else.” Henry answered.

-

“Hi! I’m Harry Holland and I’m just popping in to say that the elderly know so much about great love. So, I asked the youth what they think is great love.”

For you, what is great love?

“I’m Amaranthine LaSpina and I’m 21 years old. They say that great love is what Jesus did for us, but I don’t know about that since I don’t believe in things like that. But in my opinion, great love doesn’t necessarily mean ‘romantic love’. It can take on many forms like friendship, family, etc. The constant factor is that they are people who care for you regardless of the decisions you made and will make. They offer you their full opinions without bias, and still support you even though you go on a different path. In summary, they want what they think is best for you without being control freaks.”

“Hiii, I’m Jaemren and I’m 15 years old. For me, great love means having an instinct, of some sort, to treat someone as part of your family even though you’re in a relationship with them or if they’re just a friend or if they’re an artist who doesn’t know you exist. You will have the sudden urge to protect them at all cost because you don’t want them to get hurt. Because if they get hurt, you feel their pain; you feel like you’re getting hurt too. Of course, you will correct them when they’re wrong and you’ll be comfortable around them because you feel at home when you’re with them, y’know? Like, there’s warmth. Great love is treasuring someone you don’t want to lose in your life and in terms of feeling it, I think reassurance is the best way.”

“Betty Montefalco, here! I’m 20 years old now and great love will always be there. It’ll always fight for you- in fact, it never slept without an argument. It’s great, it’s explosive, it’s annihilating, it could be exhausting, but at the end of the day- it’s what you want and it’s what you go back to. Even when you’re not in that headspace or happenstance anymore, it’s yearning for someone for the rest of your life; consciously, subconsciously, or unconsciously. If you’re lucky enough, maybe you’ll get to see the greatness endure and eventually flourish in this lifetime. If not, I believe you get to have that love elsewhere. Maybe in another lifetime or in a mirrored universe. I believe the people we yearn for were put in our lives for a reason and none of these people go to waste. I try to remind myself that everyday and that not everything’s figured out yet.”

“I’m Lucas and I’m 18 years old. For me, great love just boils down to understanding a person to the deepest level. It doesn’t even need to be exclusive to a romantic kind of love. True love, for me, is knowing the person in every situation. I don’t mean that the person knows your favorites or knows your deepest, darkest secrets. Knowing the person in every situation is knowing how to talk to you in times of your happiness, knowing how to keep you happy, and knowing how to be there for you in tough times without being intrusive or anything. They can sense when something is wrong about you or if you’re feeling off and they really know how to help you. They don’t even need to be your lovers or even best friends. It takes a certain kind of empathy to be able to understand someone’s emotion so well and knowing how to help you with those emotions is what I believe to be the greatest kind of love one can show to another.”

“HAHAHA, great love??? I haven’t experienced that yet. I only have my firsts, but I don’t consider them my great loves. My expectation is that hopefully we’re in the same wavelength-ish. To me, it doesn’t matter how they will be. Hopefully no sacrifices will be made. You can get great love from your friends and family. Like, you do stuff for them just because you love them. Oh, I’m 21 years old and my name is Hebe. It’s pronounced like ‘Phoebe’.”

“I’m Alessandra; 21 years old. Honestly, I don’t know what great love is. But I guess it’s something that makes someone’s world meaningful. Crushes come and go, but great love stays.”

“I’m 18 years old and my name is Dash. Great love is where you can experience the good and bad without ever getting tired nor ever get sick of the person. It’s trusting the person who you experience great love with.”

“I’m Jai and I’m 18 years old. Greatest love. As someone who ceases to exist, but lives by the quote ‘we accept the love we think we deserve’, I definitely have no idea what love truly is. In the first place, we shouldn’t even be rationalizing what it is. I once told a friend that I never believed in love. I was teased about it, but sometimes I just want someone to take me in their tender arms and cover me in dirt, cover me in roses. As gravity pulls me in their arms; I’ll feel warmth, I’ll feel safe, I’ll feel at home. Oh, to have someone be the mark of who I need to be, to have a blossoming reverie with, like the way they came in my life would feel so right. I think greatest love would make me want to twist and turn, cry and burn, but I’d like it.”

-

Harry sat in his room editing his ‘great love documentary’ and he’s frustrated. He couldn’t feel a thing from it. He felt as if he’s lacking some kind of passion, but he doesn’t know what it is; he can’t put his finger on it. So, he saved the video and went to the kitchen to fix himself a sandwich. While doing so, he took out his phone and called his mum.

“Harry!” Nikki happily said through the phone. “How are you?”

“I’m alright. ‘M just a bit stressed, that’s all. You?” Harry asked before putting his mum on speaker, so he can decently make a sandwich.

“I’m alright. I’m just editing pictures. How’s the documentary coming along? Is it like you pictured in your head?” Nikki asked.

“Yeah, it’s alright. It’s not finished, but it’s all coming together. The documentary isn’t the problem, though. It’s me. I feel like something’s lacking in me. Like, I don’t feel a thing while asking those ‘for you, what is great love?’ questions. When I asked old couples, I didn’t feel my heart swelling with joy and love. Is something wrong with me?” Harry explained.

“No, there’s nothing wrong with you.”

“Then, what is it? I want this documentary to work, I really do. I just want to be a great director. Not just for this project, but also in projects that I’ll do in the future. But I can’t do that if my feelings aren’t in the right mood or place. Am I making any sense, mum?” Harry sighed before taking a bite out of his sandwich.

Nikki laughed, “I definitely know what you’re talking about. Harry, darling, you’re not inspired. That’s it. You’re doing a documentary about ‘great love’, but you don’t have one yourself.”

“Do I have to find someone as soon as possible?” Harry asked. “I don’t want to put this documentary on hold.”

“You don’t have to find someone as soon as possible and you don’t have to put your documentary on hold. You’ll find someone along the way, I promise you that. Just do what you have to do.”

“How do I know if I meet the right one?”

“You’ll just know. Trust me.”

Harry sighed, “Okay. Thanks, mum.”

“You’re welcome. I love you.”

“I love you too.” Harry hung up and finished his sandwich before going back to his room to continue editing.

-

Harry took his time with the documentary. He needed the inspiration to continue, so he took a break from it. He was in the neighborhood with a small ball in his hand as he walked Tessa for a little bit of exercise. That’s when he saw you. You were painting a piece of cardboard as you sat on the grass. Your eyebrows were knit as you concentrated on what you were doing. He walked up to where you were and stood next to you. He removed the leash from Tessa’s collar and threw the ball. Tessa immediately ran off to find the ball and Harry finally gave you his attention.

You felt his presence next to you, but you didn’t mind him. After all, he was a stranger.

“Um, hi!” Harry spoke, causing you to look up from painting. You gave him a tight-lipped smile and said, “Hello.”

“What’re you doing?” Harry asked as he crouched down to see it better.

“I’m doing a miniature version of The Office. Right now, I’m painting the walls. So, when I put them together, it looks like an empty office. I already have the grey felt paper for the carpet flooring of the whole office. I haven’t sticked it yet because I have to cut out the exact shape of the floor if that makes sense.” You rambled as you continued painting.

“That sounds… tiring.” Harry said. He looked around and saw Tessa coming back to him. He pats her head before throwing the ball once more, making the dog leave again.

“It’s really tiring. I’m just glad that I have all the materials and the patience to make things like this. A few months ago, I did Rachel and Monica’s apartment. It was epic!” You grinned before looking at him. “What do you do?”

“Excuse me?” Harry asked, sitting down next to you to stretch his legs.

“Like, what do you do in your free time, or just in general? What are your hobbies? Anything.” You asked him.

“Oh! I, uh, I’m a filmmaker.” Harry answered. You looked at him for a while and nodded. “That’s interesting. I’ve never met a filmmaker before. I guess this’ll be my first time meeting one.”

“There’s a first time for everything.” Harry chuckled awkwardly. “I’m Harry, by the way.” He extended his hand to you.

“Like the prince?” You asked and he laughed, but nodded. “I’m Y/N.” You shook hands before you continued painting. Tessa came back with the ball and Harry took it from her before throwing it again.

“What kind of films do you make?” You asked as you carefully put the cardboard down on the spot next to you to let it dry. You grabbed another cardboard and started painting it.

“Just anything that comes to mind, really. Right now, I’m making a documentary about ‘great love’.” Harry said and you nodded.

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?”

“Why are you making a documentary about ‘great love’?” You asked. You paused painting to look at him with curious eyes. Harry looked at you and shrugged, “There’s no special reason, actually. I just want to experiment. It sucks, though. I don’t feel it and I hate that I don’t feel it.”

You nodded in understanding, “You need a muse, y’know, like an inspiration.”

“Funny. My mum said the same thing.” Harry chuckled which made you smile.

“Great minds think alike.” You giggled. “Your mum and I should hang out, then. We clearly have the same thoughts.”

“I’ll tell her.” Harry said. You both laughed and you looked at your watch. The sun was about to set and you decided it’s best to start packing up your materials. Harry helped you pack up and when you were done, you smiled at him.

“Thank you.” You said and he just grinned in return. “I have to go. It was nice meeting you, Harry.”

“It was nice meeting you too, Y/N.” Harry said. At that moment he realized that if he lets you go, he probably would never see you again. If he never sees you again, his mind will swarm with what could have been’s and what if’s. He didn’t like it already. He knew he had to decide now and he did.

“Can I have your number, Y/N?”

-

As cheesy as it sounds, Harry became motivated in his work again. He began to really feel things towards you and it made him soar. His mum was right. He’ll know when he meets the right person for him. Lucky for him, he found that person at 22 years old while others aren’t so lucky.

He never doubted you for one second. He knew that you were the right person for him. That’s why he confidently asked you on a date. He was delighted when you agreed to go on a date with him. Eventually, one date turned into multiple dates. You even met his family. You thought it was too soon, but he insisted on introducing his great love to his loved ones.

You and Harry didn’t have a label yet and you were still at the ‘getting to know’ stage of your ‘relationship’. Harry learned about your quirks while you learned about his likes and dislikes. It was truly an exciting experience for you because it’s different and new; it’s refreshing.

Harry was your breath of fresh air on a sunny day. He was your quiet life in the countryside. With him, you were peaceful and safe. Your life would come to a pause when you’re around him because you want to live in the moment. You were merely a passerby in this situation.

Of course, passersby come and go. People who pass through the countryside rarely stay because it would only be a matter of time until they make their way back to the hustle bustle of the city.

And it happened to you.

His name was Jack. You and Jack had a long history together, but you both went your separate ways for reasons you could barely recall. You know how people have something consistent in their lives? Jack was yours and you were his. Even if you weren’t together anymore, both of you knew that you’d have each other no matter what. You didn’t know how Jack found you, but he did. After all, that’s how fate works.

Then suddenly the life in the countryside didn’t seem as enticing as it was anymore. The air made you feel suffocated and the sun started burning your skin. Your quiet life in the countryside began to make you feel agitated. Your life desperately wanted to play, but it stayed on a pause and you feared that it would stay that way. You wanted to move on and go through the roads up ahead, but something- someone, rather, was holding you back.

You knew it was time to come clean. As much as you enjoyed and liked Harry’s company, you just couldn’t stay with him. It pained you to realize that the countryside wasn’t for you even if it seemed so perfect. But fate tied you to the city and a city person, you’ll remain. When you told Harry, he didn’t understand it. You didn’t expect him to understand immediately, but you knew that in time, he will.

And he did.

He didn’t let you go; you just left. Besides, he could never let you go. You were the best thing that’s ever happened to him. He was crestfallen for a long time, but his mum told him that things would get better. And she was right… again.

Harry moved on too, but he never forgot about you. To him, you’ll always be in his heart. He finally finished the documentary and he was happy with the outcome.

-

“Hi, it’s Harry! I’ve decided to add a little clip of me saying stuff that I’ve learned throughout this documentary.” Harry said with a small smile on his face.

“I’ve learned that great love is different for everyone. Great love is loving someone unconditionally and great love is also being an all in one person for your one and only person. Great love is or are people who care for you regardless of the decisions you make and will make. They also want what’s best for you. You have the urge to protect them at all costs and you treasure them because you don’t want to lose them in your life.”

“Great love will always be there; it stays. It’s what you want and will go back to, no matter what. It’s yearning someone for the rest of your life. Great love is understanding someone on the deepest level and you do things for them just because you love them. It’s something that makes someone’s world meaningful. Greatest love would make you want to twist and turn, cry and burn, but you’d like it. You’d like it because it comes with it.”

“During the process of this documentary, I’ve met my great love. I realized that all the answers that I’ve heard made sense when I met this person.”

“Unfortunately, this person isn’t in my life anymore. I used to curse life because of it, but now I get it. I was not their great love, but they were mine. What I felt for them was special and I will never feel that way for someone ever again. I now understand that just because I found great love for me, doesn’t mean that I’m their great love too. I will forever yearn for this person, but I will move on. I am moving on.”

Harry paused for a second and smiled at the camera, “Thank you for watching.”

* * * *

lol what do yall think??? i personally like how it turned out. feedback would be greatly appreciated. you are all my great loves 🤍

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @thatforgottenangel @turtoix @givebuckyhisplumsnow @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @yourstrulyamour @euphorichxlland @thevelvetseries @buckymylove @more-like-reyna @aayaissaa

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @holland-styles @trustfundparker @calltothewild @felicityparkers @hufflepuffprincess24 @tommysparker @justasmisunderstoodasloki @quaksonhehe @call-me-baby-gir1 @itstaskeen @theonly1outof-a-billion @lost-in-the-stars03 @justafangirlduh @piscesparker @speedymaximoff @miraclesoflove @lexirv @blairscott @getbywithasmile @pqrkerr @lavender-writer @blackbat2020 @hoodpankow @bi-lmg @emmastarz

+ @leafy-holland (oml why cant i tag u??)

[oftenderweapons]

Hard and Mellow – Hoseok

Pairing: Jung Hoseok x reader (nicknamed Giggles)

Wordcount: 1.7k

Genre: smut, established relationship

Rating: 18+

Hello everyone! Stopping by to deliver this quick drabble. It’s been a while since I wrote something because sudden inspiration struck me, so I thought I could follow the mood and this came out. 

I’m thanking the best beta reader of this whole galaxy (that I will never thank enough), @joheunsaram​​. Becoming friends has never been as easy as it is with you. Lob U. I also want to thank a very specific Silent Princess. This is all for you, baby. You’re more extraordinary than words will ever say. You’ve been through so much and I’m so proud of you. I hope this will give you a good time, and someplace you can go back to when you want to escape from the real world. I’d be honoured to call you friend. I’ll wait for you in my next life 💜💐

Do NOT open the “read more” if the following topics trigger you: Sir!Hoseok, Sub!reader, multiple orgasms, vibrator, masturbation and oral sex (female receiving), face fucking and hair pulling (male receiving), squirting, cumplay and cream pies, general messiness, cum eating, heavy breast play (slapping, gripping, squeezing, nipple pinching and tugging), exhibitionism, impregnation/breeding kink, heavy dirty talking, biting, mentions of impact play (spanking and whipping with belt), bruising, mention of blacking out.

Here is my complete masterlist!

Enjoy 💜✨

“Tell me how it feels.”

You simply arched your back and stared deep into his eyes.

“Tell me,” he repeated, curling his fingers and moving the vibrator closer to your clitoris.

“Too good.”

“Too good what?” He teased you.

“Too good, Sir.”

You were barely coherent at this point.

Five orgasms were taking their toll on you. More than that, you had also squirted with the previous two, your body and mind growing increasingly vulnerable.

The fact that he was so clearly going for the sixth, and that he could keep going after that — you knew he could and would — made you grip his hair and shove his face against your crotch.

“So naughty,” he growled with a deep laugh before getting the toy inside you, switching the vibration pattern to a pulsating one that always made you wild for him, his tongue titillating your most sensitive spot with hard, quick flicks.

You tugged at his hair naturally, planting your heels on the mattress before your hips shot up; his hands came to your breasts, gripping them hard before his fingers delivered a sharp, burning slap to your left mound.

He sucked your clit harder, his fingers pinching your nipples while the feeling of the vibrations inside you became way too much for you actually survive his assault.

“Sir, please, stop.”

He hummed and kept going, the growl so deep in his throat that it felt almost minacious.

“Oh, please. No, no, I can’t— Sir!” You screamed, letting sobs fall from your lips just as tears began rolling down the sides of your face.

With a grin in his mouth he kept going, overstimulating you until he felt your release wet his neck and chest.

Nothing pleased him more than feeling you gush for him, over and over.

You could barely believe that the same man who was obsessed with cleanliness and spotless rooms was the same one making you drench the sheets at least once a week — usually with a timing perfectly calculated with the changing of the sheets.

And there was such a deep, bone-melting pleasure in showering while barely alive and falling asleep in his arms with your body brainless, soft and clean against the fresh crisp sheets.

But tonight you were far from that.

You were far from being done.

At least, he was.

He watched your body grow entirely limp underneath him, your eyes closed, your legs shaking as they tried to close, only to surrender to his unfaltering will.

He was hungry.

He was desperate.

He was all things he’d never dared be with anyone else.

He wanted things he never thought he could have.

But now there was you, and even though he was afraid he would lose you to someone who could be reliable in ways he couldn’t, he was ready to tie you down to him in any way he could.

He felt stupid. He felt dumb and reckless and absolutely insane.

He abandoned the slightly sour and salty taste of your cunt, not before lapping at the creamy wetness coating your folds, making them part with a squelching, sticky sound.

He took the vibrator out of you and slipped it into his mouth, eating and licking and sucking at all the sweet release he’d coaxed out of you before letting it rest on the sheets — they were messed up already anyway.

He silently grabbed your ankles and dragged you all the way to the edge of the bed, your body still too tired for you to actively notice anything but the friction of the cotton burning against the bruising skin of your ass and the back of your thighs.

You barely remembered if it had been his hand or the belt — it was a remote memory. Maybe two or three hours ago.

Too much had happened to your body for you to hold on to such fickle facts.

“On your knees. Now.” His order was stark and cold, getting a piercing, squeaking whimper out of you, your legs dangling from the bed before he settled behind you, his thin and strong arms shaping you into the position he required you to be.

You were now sitting close to the edge of the bed, your legs bent underneath you as you finally found enough strength to cooperate.

With your back to his front, straddling him, you felt his throbbing cock against your core, lifting your hips just enough for him to place his tip against your entrance and slide inside once you gave in to the firm, hot fullness of him.

“Yes, my love. Ride it,” his voice came from over your shoulder, one hand coming down to your clit, already looking for one more orgasm, his other palm cupping your heavy breast, bouncing with the needy rise and fall of your hips and with your heavy breathing. Your nipples felt too delicate, too sensitive.

You cried out loudly and shamelessly once he pinched one, tugging at it before rolling it between his thumb and forefinger in a poor attempt at soothing your skin.

His breath was too cold against your sweaty skin.

He managed to bite your shoulder, sucking briefly at the curve of your neck before you felt his rough voice.

“I wish I could fuck you like this on a stage. Show everyone how good I am to you.” He slapped your breast once more before he started meeting your thrusts. “Show them how I make you cum. How I make you squirt all over me.” He bit and growled as he felt you get tighter. “I’m gonna show all of them how my sweet, delicate strawberry turns into the loveliest cumslut for this cock.”

You shook your head and cried out, imagining a thick crowd in front of you, watching in silence, waiting for your orgasm like football supporters wait for a goal, ready to cheer.

“My sweet strawberry. Bet no one can get you half as dirty…” He chuckled. “Such a  cute little fuckdoll. Aren’t you hungry for my cum? Don’t you wanna be filled up?”

You sobbed and nodded.

“Say it with your words, Giggles.”

“Sir, please,” you managed to squeal before both his hands grabbed your breasts.

“Please what?”

“I want your cum. I need your cum. I’m empty and cold without it.”

He felt pleasure grow almost too much, ready to overthrow him.

“That’s right. You’re only mine to fill up.” He tortured your nipples some more. “Aren’t you eager to be bred, like an expensive fine pet?”

“Please, gimme babies. I’m your pet. I’m only yours to be filled up, please Sir.” You felt more tears roll down your cheeks.

“That’s right. But this won’t work.” He murmured, helping you on all fours before grabbing your arms and pinning them behind your back, making your whole torso collapse onto the bed, your face meeting the spot where his cock was laying earlier as he ate you out. You could tell by the heavy scent of his sex.

“This is the right position for you to get all those babies. They’re gonna stay deep inside. Like this.” He said, driving his cock all the way inside you, humming at the increased depth and tightness.

“It would be so fun to let everyone see how we make babies, don’t you think? Almost a shame we didn’t film this.”

His giggles were evil and taunting, “I’m gonna cum. Would you like to, Giggles?”

You nodded and immediately felt his hand between your legs, touching you with expertise.

“You’ll get so round and soft. It’ll be so lovely.” Hoseok was reaching the very edge. “Everyone will know you’re getting fucked to be bred.” He bent down, closing his eyes and breathing deeper to control himself. “Being too horny when you’re ovulating, walking around the house in nothing but an oversized shirt.” He slapped your ass once, twice, three times, trying to last at least one more minute. “You’re really begging me to put a baby inside you.”

“Please, it’s all I want, please, Hoseok!”

“Such a good girl. You earned my cum so well, my sweet berry,” he managed to coo before he gave irregular, violent strokes.

“Oh, please!”

He lost himself once you squeezed him as tight as you could, forcing him to spill all his cum inside you, the hot spurts shooting against your oversensitive inner walls while his mouth opened wide, letting a few seconds go by before he actually managed to make a sound.  

He rammed inside you with animalistic force, fucking his cum deeper inside you, letting your tight cunt milk him until his balls didn’t feel heavy and uncomfortable anymore.

His sweaty forehead hit your nape, but you barely registered that. Pleasure crested and your body became numb to everything, finally giving in to exhaustion as your vision blacked out.

You didn’t know how long it had been when you managed to come back to reality; Hoseok was quiet behind you, your bodies now resting on your sides.

“Giggles,” he called gently.

You hummed and nodded.

“Are you doing okay, honey?” His voice was raw and concerned.

“I’m okay. Tired.”

He kissed your shoulder, where he could spot a bite mark darkening. “Do you need anything?”

You shook your head. On a second thought, you changed your mind. “Stay inside,” you whispered.

He did as you told him.

“I really want kids, Hobi.” Your voice was shaking and fatigued after all the heavy breathing and crying and screaming.

“We’ll have as many as you want,” he replied, drawing a line of kisses. “Whenever we’re ready.”

You nodded and scooted further back into him.

“You’ll be so beautiful, with a big round belly, glowing in happiness.” His hands caressed your body reverently. “You’ll be so sweet, breastfeeding our child on a rocking chair. And you’ll be the best at lullabies. Your voice is so nice and soothing,” he was getting emotional. “You’ll make the prettiest, gentlest of babies.”

You caught his hands in yours. “And you’ll spoil them rotten.”

“How can I say no to a mini-you?” He took in your scent, the smell of him and you and sex so deeply interwoven with every fibre of your being. “I hope they look like you.”

You tried to cuddle him as you heard him sniffle. “You’ll be the best dad in the universe.”

He gave a small laugh. “For now I’ll focus on the idea of getting all them babies inside you.”

You chuckled and wiggled your hips against him, squeezing around his half soft cock. “I second that.”

[leefi]

Starira MBTI III - Frontier

1. Seisho

2. Siegfeld

3. Frontier

4. Rinmeikan

Aruru Otsuki: ENFP

Just go and reread Karen’s entry.

FJDKSLDKL in all seriousness leaps and bounds of Ne from both of them. There’s a reason they often catch themselves saying the same things and why Karen sees so much of herself in Aruru. Not only are they both Ne doms, they’re the exact same type! Ne and Fi together hold that naturally sunny and joyful disposition they both have, and that extreme, passionate love for the people they’re close to. And her Ne may be even higher off the charts than Karen’s. From the entirety of Captain Twins, to improvising lines on stage with Misora as kids, to being the embodiment of Frontier’s free-spirit, pioneering nature - all of this is extroverted intuition, chasing at every possibility under the sun, no matter how absurd it may seem. Her STRONG tertiary Te -- which is much stronger than Karen's, by the way -- supports her dominant Ne, and this is where her gung-ho attitude comes from. “We have to write our own play?? No problem, wheel out the whiteboard! Nobody has an idea yet?? That’s fine, I’ll throw one out and get the ball rolling! Misora and I need three more people for our play? What are we waiting for, let’s go find them!!” All of this is tertiary extroverted Thinking, implementing your ideas out in the world.

Misora Kano: ISTP

She is so compelling!!! I wish we got to see more out of her!! She's already cultivated so many of her talents (and her function stack is pretty strong for such a young age too) - she'd really shine if you just gave her the spotlight! The second ISTP in this series who had her inferior Fe develop super early due to having 1) a ton of siblings and working with so many people from such a young age and 2) a gf with Fi in her dom/aux slot. I’m gonna start with her Fe again because, like Futaba’s, it’s so strong for how young she is - she is quicker to pay attention to social convention than Fi-aux Aruru, scolding her whenever she refers to older Karen by her first name, for example (don't let her see Aruru call Akira -chan). We see aux Se in how energetic and in the moment she is - she grew up acting and doing backstage work and helping her family with their troupe, and we never really see her stuck in her head or wondering about things that aren’t in the here-and-now. Her partnership with ENFJ Michiru to create a new Troupe is going to be SO SO GOOD in the future. They really are going to draw the best out of each other. As polar opposites, they have the exact same functions, just in reverse (like Karen and Junna, or Hikari and Ichie)! So Misora has Ti-Se-Ni-Fe, and Michiru has Fe-Ni-Se-Ti. It’s the perfect setup for them to complement each other’s strengths and weaknesses.

Honestly, I really wish we saw more out of Misora - she deserves more than just being Aruru’s sidekick, and that Feeling function in her inferior slot (extroverted, no less) means that it’s difficult for her to communicate what exactly it is that she wants, both for herself and from others. Like with Mahiru, it’s intuitively hard for her to speak up and say “Hey, I feel like I’m being left behind”. Somebody needs to tap Aruru on the shoulder and communicate that to her - Fe-dom Tsukasa, maybe, or ideally, Misora herself. I think that she’s been kind of shouldered into the straight-man role not just by Aruru but everyone at Frontier because they all have such big personalities (like...she’s got Aruru and Lalafin taking up space, which is already more than enough), and she’s likely been in this position before. She’s been helping her parents run a troupe since she was a child, and now she’s (unfortunately) playing second fiddle to Aruru for the most part at Frontier. She’s been mostly stuck using her Ti and Se, and I really really hope that AA has us seeing her use more of that tertiary Ni and advocating for the goals she has for herself. She deserves to shine so much!!

One final note - I find it so interesting that both ISTPs in this series have such strong senses of faith - Misora is cast as the Faith arcana (and, unlike some of the other girls who are cast as the “opposites” of their personalities, Misora’s seems true to hers), and Futaba obviously has that reverent faith in Kaoruko (and is canonically religious???). It’s a bit antithetical to the ISTP personality type, which values its individuality above all else and tends to be a bit of a rebel. I don’t have much to add here - it’s just an interesting observation.

Shizuha Kocho: INFJ

Lalafin: The Count was such a great actor! I’m sure he would’ve been great on stage too…

Shizuha: Heh heh, maybe!

Shizuha: But still, he never went back to his original persona even after his revenge. He had to stay as the count for the rest of his life.

Shizuha: And he was able to do that because he was good at becoming other people.

Shizuha: ...Although I cannot say if that meant he was happy.

Lalafin: Even after his revenge, he still wasn’t happy...That’s one point of view to make his sadness stand out even more!

Shizuha: Right?...Yes. I think I’ll stick to how I’m doing things now.

THE!! LOVE!! OF!! MY!! LIFE!!!!!!! I CANNOT OVERSTATE ENOUGH HOW MUCH I LOVE SHIZUHA KOCHO!!!! She was my first favorite character in the game (and still is!! But frontier gets no content :’)). As I said with Maya, INFJs are old souls - wise and idealistic, but typically reserved. Auxiliary extroverted Feeling shows up in how she suppresses herself so as not to intimidate or make others feel inferior - we see the exact same thing play out with INFJ sibling Koharu. She’s mysterious but amiable, kind and awe-inspiring - just like INFJ sibling Maya. And we see that token INFJ loneliness playing out with all three, as well. What I love most about Shizuha is that she’s a person of extremes. She is so cerebral and intelligent and dignified in a way that reminds you of Maya but she’s also so!!!! Fucked in the head!!!!! Ni doms baby!!!!!!! (I am fucking crazy. But i am free).

Unhealthy INFJs can develop this obsession with making themselves martyrs, and I don’t think I need to rehash out her AA conversation with Aruru (and her entire philosophy towards acting - see above quote) to get that across. I want to dive into this more. Truly I do. Shizuha deserves 10 pages of writing. But she is one of the last I'm writing and I've clicked through 3 different AA stories and accidentally found Rui and Yukko's first so I diverted and finished writing Yukko's entry and I've already spent so much time on this oh god the doc is already 18 pages single spaced uhhhh Shizuha my loveliest love I will write your character deep-dive later I prommy <333

(Also, seeing her synergy with Aruru is soo so cute. INFJ/ENFP supremacy!! Same dynamic as MayaKaren!)

Lalafin Nonomiya: ESFP

(Se dom).

She’s so athletic and energetic and in-the-moment and improvisational and quick on her feet (Se, Se, Se)! Fi over Ti aux because she has a much more subjective view of what’s “fun” - “what do I want to do? Where do I want to go? What kind of character do I want to play???". She’s got that trademark genki energy that so many ExFPs share, particularly that childlike zeal that she and ESFP sister Ichie both have. In her own way, Lalafin embodies Frontier’s pioneering, fun-loving spirit just as much as Aruru.

Tsukasa: Lupin is usually portrayed as mysterious and polished, no? But the way you perform him is more fresh and open -- almost like the main character from a children’s book.

Lalafin: Oh! Come to think of it, the book on Lupin I read when I was younger was written for kids!

Lalafin: It was about this big and had a realistic image of Lupin right on the cover!!

I don’t really have too much to add. She’s just a perfect embodiment of that excitable, fun-loving Se and Fi dom/aux duo. Childlike and simplistic-appearing at a first glance, but there's such a fire in there - just compare her to her ESFP twin Ichie!

Tsukasa Ebisu: ENFJ

I can see that use of Se - love of fashion, sweets, dancing, going out and enjoying life - yes, she had overprotective parents and could just be making up for lost time, but I think that nice material things are something she just genuinely enjoys for herself as well. So at first I thought ESFP, but we can’t ignore that enormously caring attitude she has for others and the way she gravitates towards caretaker roles, which indicates more Fe than Fi. So ENFJ it is! She has that Fe and Se, and we see that inferior Ti in how she struggled to realize something was wrong when she was trapped in the play. I love, love, loved her leading role in the Arise All You Sons event and how she and Yachiyo interacted to bring out the best in each other - we saw Yachi using a lot of that aux Ti to support Tsukasa’s inferior Ti and dominant Fe!

Her dominant Fe is SOOOO clear and contrasts to every other girl in Arise All You Sons. She’s the first to go “hey, wait, hold on - I’m not sure what (inferior Ti) but something about this feels artificial, and I don’t think it’s actually going to help the kids”. Inferior Ti/Dominant Fe speaks before thinking too - “Why did I say that?! Why did I do x?!” - it isn’t until aux Ti Yachiyo shows up to help her that she’s able to work through her thoughts. While she can get stuck in the rut of her own mind sometimes, Tsukasa is one of the most caring, empathetic, and mature characters in the series - and she does all this without sacrificing her own autonomy and individuality, which can be difficult for an Fe-dom to do.

[georgiaswarr]

georgia warr

never been in love - gatlin

a song about wanting to be in love but not being able to be in love, which is very fitting for georgia’s initial situation. i’ve put this at the beginning of this playlist because - spoiler alert - the last song on here is also called never been in love and i think these two songs symbolise georgia’s journey in a very mint way. also, the first line of this song is “that boy from georgia was so sweet” which i think is pretty funny

somebody to love - queen

the title says it all. georgia wants to find somebody to love. i mean, she’s already found them, but we’ll get to that later.

paradise - coldplay

georgia is a big dreamer and yearner and i think this song really encapsulates that on so many levels. i mean “when she was just a girl / she expected the world / but it flew away from her reach / so she ran away in her sleep” that’s georgia !

tous les garçons et les filles - françoise hardy

french song because i’m ~quirky~ but this song is basically about seeing everyone else be in relationships and feeling lonely/wanting one for yourself

waiting for love - avicii

georgia is a hopeless romantic, but she’s still waiting for her own grand romance (she still hasn’t realised that the “love” she’s “waiting for” has already “come around”)

dear no one - tori kelly

georgia “i want someone to be in love with but there is no one” warr, at least at the beginning of the book

chaos - miki fiki

this song can be interpreted with various themes of the book in mind such as yearning for something you don’t have, feeling lonely, emotional turmoil, etc, it’s a banger

i walk a little faster - fiona apple

highjacked from @kindaorangey’s loveless playlist (they’ve done a great rundown here). this song has similar themes to dear no one, anticipating that romance will come to you, but it hasn’t, despite how hard you chase it, how fast you walk

when - dodie

shoutout to @drarrystar for recommending this song to me because so many of the lines reflect georgia to the core. just look up the lyrics and you’ll agree

deeper - ella eyre

“cause i’m scared, i can’t lie / i don’t feel the same inside / i can’t decide if i have the heart to confess” georgia thinks she can learn to love jason romantically if she just digs a little deeper

loneliness for love - lovelytheband

“anything at all not to feel alone / anything at all just to feel whole / ‘cause i keep mistaking loneliness for love”

a little more - alessia cara

“there you are with your college friends / you played in a marching band / i can't help but wish i knew you then / but i guess i know you now // it looks as if i've stumbled right into the palm of your hand // hey, you / hey, mr. knock on my door / i'm sorry that I've been emotions galore / am i crazy for wanting a little bit more? / a little more of you” georgia about sunil. she needs their guidance and wishes he’d been there for her earlier.

stuck in california - rightfield

a song about feeling alone and alienated by everyone and everything around you, and waiting for your “stars to align”, which fits georgia if you ask me

seven - taylor swift

georgiapip song !!!!!! it’s also about how alienating it can be to grow up and lose your childhood innocence, and i have a lot of thoughts about a very specific brand of growing pains that come with being aspec, but that’s a topic for another day

te amo - rihanna

this is a song about having someone be romantically in love with you and the heartbreak that comes from not being able to reciprocate those feelings --> georgia about jason

love love love - of monsters and men

same as te amo. it hits especially hard when you do love the other person so fucking much

ceiling won’t break - finish ticket

this song gives me georgia’s emotional turmoil vibes, also the line “i see no lights ‘cause the lights weren’t aimed at me” can be interpreted in a “cupid’s arrows didn’t hit georgia” way if you get what i mean

lack of emotion - skott

once again we are dealing with themes of not being able to feel the emotions that you “““““should”““““ feel for someone

let me go - hailee steinfeld

another song about georgia and jason’s (romantic) relationship and how it was doomed to fail from the beginning so she hopes he can let her go

i’m so tired - lauv, troye sivan

i’m just thinking about that line in loveless where georgia resentfully realises how many songs are about romantic love. she’s just so tired

crush culture - conan gray

and another song about being resentful of our romance-obsessed society, which georgia certainly is plenty of times throughout the book

home - ella eyre

christmas break time babey !!!! georgia has reached her low point and she’s going home

i love my car - belle & sebastain

“I pressed a cold hand against my car, which was as far up the drive of our house as it could get. I’d missed my car.” - loveless by alice oseman, celebrating all kinds of love since 2020

i’ve never written a song about a boy - eva westphal

this was actually recommended to me by @michaelholdenn for this playlist ! a song about the liberation that comes with not having to force attraction anymore

this is home - cavetown

i think months ago some ask told alice that this is a loveless song and i agree

why can’t we be friends - jordy searcy

this is about georgia’s strained relationship with pip and jason after the bailey ball and how she wishes they could just be friends again, the way they were all throughout their childhood

chiquitita - abba

okay fuckers THIS is literally the LOVELIEST song about friendship and wanting to be there for your loved ones and i’m sure georgia relates

open up - matt simons

“you’re hard to talk to with that wall around you” vs. “rooney had a solid brick wall round some part of her that nobody was allowed to know.” basically, georgia wants rooney to open up to her

just fucking let me love you - lowen

okay, yes, this song is very gay, but i think it can be applied to georgiarooney too ! the frustration this song expresses of wanting to shake someone and scream at them to just fucking let you love them is definitely shown in loveless when it comes to those two

less than i do - the band camino

georgia about pip. she hopes that pip will forgive her eventually. i mean look at the line “i still have your denim jacket” in the song - georgia still has pip’s jacket too, it’s perfect !!!

friends will be friends - queen

if loveless taught us anything it’s that friends sure fuckin will be friends

stick with me - olly murs

“we all get lonely / trying to find a place where we should be / trying to find someone to set us free / there are times a friend is all you need” you know when alice said that every character in the book feels “loveless” in some way at one point or another, but they all learn the value and importance of platonic love? yeah.

your song - moulin rouge

“and then, with three accompanists, i stood on a boat on the river wear and sang ‘your song’ - the version specifically from moulin rouge - to pip quintana, who didn’t yet know me as well as i wished she did, but despite that, was one of my favourite people i had ever met.”

wherever i live - alessia cara

you know the scene after georgia leaves pip and rooney to their first kiss? yeah, this song really reflects that mindset of half loneliness, half acceptance to me. listen to it.

take time - honest men

accepting your identity takes time ! even by the end of loveless there’s still days when georgia wishes she wasn’t aroace and the book presents this in an amazing and properly nuanced way !

die alone - finneas

"you asked me, ‘do you wanna die alone / or watch it all burn down together?’ / i said i’d rather try to hold on to you forever” this song is very much georgiarooney - finding each other in their darkest of days and watching everything they thought they knew (amatonormativity) burn down. together.

no lover - jetty bones

the next few songs are basically just one aro anthem after the next. this is another recommendation from @michaelholdenn - “maybe i don’t need a lover, i just need the friend”

solo - carly rae jepsen

highjacked from @kindaorangey’s loveless playlist. amazing anthem about how it’s okay to be single and how romantic love isn’t as fulfilling as society makes it out to be anyway

trust my lonely - alessia cara

i think in georgia’s case this song can be interpreted as her learning to finally let go of her pre-conceived notions of what love is and what she should want, her learning to “trust her lonely”, though lonely here just means romance-less

love is a town - josh gilligan

“if [romantic] love is a town then i’m passing through" yeah, romance is not for georgia and she’s starting to accept that.

new romantics - taylor swift

the loveless gang is the new romantics !!! they’re redefining love and romance !!!

team - lorde

“and everyone's competing for a love they won't receive / 'cause what this palace wants is release” anyway, let’s go found family song

wild things - alessia cara

now, i don’t know if alessia cara is queer but I DARE YOU to look at the lyrics of wild things and not tell me that this is the ULTIMATE queer anthem about found family and saying fuck you to respectability politics. i DARE you. anyway, loveless is also about found family and saying fuck you to respectability politics so it’s very fitting

never been in love - will jay

full circle babey !!!!! this is THE aro anthem so obviously i had to add it and comparing the “never been in love / and it’s all good” to the “never been in love / and i fucking hate that i couldn’t make it past a crush” message from the first song we can really reflect georgia’s journey of self-acceptance in loveless which i love a lot

[danny-chase]

Hello, are there any Cassandra Cain fans/stans that could help me out with her characterization? I’ve just started to get into writing fanfiction (I haven’t posted any, and am working towards getting more confident with writing the characters in general so hopefully I’ll post some someday) and I haven’t been in the fandom long. Cass is a confusing character for me to write, mostly because I feel like she’s written differently in everything she’s in. And her personality absolutely got erased and overhauled in the New52. I’ve read some of her Batgirl run (it was awhile ago ngl) and I read the storyline where she was introduced in the New52 and the Rise and the Fall of the Batmen (I think that’s the arc she’s involved in with Detective Comics). Idk, more under cut.

My goal in writing Cass is to make her seem like a real person and I’m drawing more on pre-New52 than post-New52. I feel like she used to have so much more to her than just being like a perfect person and the sweetest person in general. Not that she can’t be sweet (I love cinnamon bun Cass too), but she used to have much more grit to her personality it seems like. I’m blending the two personalities, and I’d really like to focus on her love for dance, it’s one of the changes I really liked, and of course her connections to her siblings because I love sibling dynamics. Currently I’m working on a fic where she ends up dancing with each of her siblings. I like the idea of writing her as a bit snarky or sassy (the kind of person that just stares at you with the “really” expression when you do something dumb), more introverted, a bit of a little shit, self deprecating, but genuinely kind hearted, driven, and a perfectionist. I also don’t want to write her as being a magic character that instantly knows what’s wrong with a character. Yeah, she can read body language, but her family is good at hiding things, they’ve been trained recognizing body language and I’m guessing some of them have worked to have good control over their own. My interpretation is she can tell what people are feeling but not why, and how they’re going to move. I’ve written a little bit of the fic so far (um please don’t feel obligated to read through it, any comments on how you think Cass should be written is helpful) so I’ll post it below. Thanks for reading this far if you made it XD.

I don’t have a title for this lmao but the fic starts here:

“Hey.” Dick gently placed a hand on her shoulder as he hopped down from his spot on the water tower. “You know who’s my most favorite, strongest, most beautiful, spectacular-”

Cass groaned; he was making the face. He was wearing his Nightwing mask, but as she turned to look, she could already tell he was making the face. Dick ignored her groans and continued “-most perfect, amazing, gorgeous, sweetest, nicest, kindhearted, thoughtful-”

Cass pulled away; she would not be doing what he asked. Nope. The last time she heard Dick talking like this, Barbara ended up agreeing to dog sit for Titus. The dog chewed everything in the clocktower; they were still finding ripped up socks in various locations. “He’s so well behaved” he said. “It won’t be for that long” he said. “You’re the best thank you so, so much” he said. On the bright side, Dick had bought her new ballet shoes to replace the ones Titus tore through. But they’d taken weeks to break in and-oh he was still talking.

“-smartest, wisest, funniest, loveliest, badass, awesomest, funnest-” Cass placed her hands on her hips and stood up to meet him. The stakeout had been going fine on her own, at this rate she probably didn’t need his backup anyways, so if this was something stupid, she could always tell him to leave. She gave him her best “bat-glare” as he continued to mumble on compliments. “fantastic, reliable, trustworthy-” his voice grew smaller as she continued glaring. He cleared his throat “sister of all time?” He finished.

Cass sighed and leaned back against the tower’s support. “What do you want?” Dick gave her a weak smile, embarrassment radiated off him. That couldn’t be good.

“Look, I’ll cut to the chase.” Thank heavens for that. “But like, just know I love you so much.” Cass wished she could stick her tongue out, maybe the domino mask was the way to go. She settled for lightly shoving his shoulder. He grinned at her, doing his best to seem casual, but slight tension in his neck gave away his discomfort. Dick was always hard for her to read, he was a performer from birth, and had excellent control of his posture and facial expressions. He gave himself away in movement, in the lack thereof. He could paint the perfect mask, but it slipped slightly when he moved. He was nervous, anxious, exasperated, and worried. Cass was intrigued.

“What is it?” She said, more gently than before, turning back to watch her mark. She could hear Dick let out a deep breath.

“It’s Da-Robin. He got invited to a formal.” Cass turned back and cocked her head. “Don’t give me that look, you know how he is.” He said, shifting his weight. “It’s a school event, so they’ve been learning ballroom dance in gym. But I got a call the other day from the gym teacher saying he’s not participating.”

“Why should he?” Cass asked. “You shouldn’t force people to do things they don’t want to do.” Living with the family long enough had taught her that. If the kid didn’t want to dance, he shouldn’t have to.

“Yeah, I know.” Dick replied a bit flatly. He moved to crouch where she had been sitting and focused on the building across the street. “But I don’t know if he doesn’t want to, or if he’s just embarrassed.” Cass thought for a moment. “I don’t suppose he grew up with many dance lessons.” He added a bit apologetically. She shook her head.

“Have you talked to him?” She asked. Dick sighed.

“I tried. But he kept switching topics and when I pressed it, he locked himself in his room. Which is why I’m concerned.” Cass hummed in affirmation. It made sense.

“Why haven’t you tried teaching him?” Dick wasn’t a bad dancer, and he’d always performed quite well at the galas.

He looked back at her sheepishly. “I gave it a go last time I was at the manor. But he stormed off before we could get anything done. Something about me being an embarrassment to the family.”

Cass rolled her eyes under the cowl. “What did you do?”

“I just wanted to do some jazzercising to warm up, what’s wrong with that?” Dick spluttered in response. Cass lightly smacked the back of his head. “So anyways, I lost my chance at it. I can’t even play music without him running away.” He continued, ducking away as she tried to tap him again. “Besides, you’re probably a better height to practice with for him.” She scoffed in response.

“When’s the gala?” She asked. It slipped out without her permission. She wasn’t getting involved. The kid could figure it out on his own. Couldn’t he?

“It’s next weekend.” He replied and sighed. “I don’t want him to miss it. He never does stuff that’s age appropriate.” Oh, no. Not that card. Cass would not be involved, she had work to do. She stepped back to lean against the tower again and bit her lip. “And some girl in his class asked him to go. Her name’s Maps and she’s a really good influence on him.” She crossed her arms tighter. Damian was rude to her. He called her Cain. Not. Getting. Involved. “She’s so energetic, it helps him loosen up-” Damnit.

“Fine.” Dick whipped around to look at her, not bothering to hide his disbelief. She squirmed internally. It wasn’t that she didn’t care about the kid. It was just easier to spend time on her own. The kid was better off without her influence anyways.

“Are you sure, I could ask Steph or I don’t know-” He continued.

She cut him off. “I’ll do it. I don’t mind.” The others wouldn’t work. Dick knew that going into the conversation. They were too…loud in their judgement. Steph would laugh at the wrong time, Tim would say the wrong thing, Jason didn’t have the patience for the kid’s temper, and Duke would be a safe bet, but was away on Outsider business for the next two weeks.

Dick practically melted in relief. “Thank you so-”

“You owe me, big brother.” Cass reminded.

“Anything you want, little sister.” He promised. “Are hugs acceptable as a down payment? I could kiss you right now.”

“Eww.” Cass made a face under the mask but strode forward as he opened his arms and stood for a hug. He eagerly wrapped her in a bear hug. She couldn’t help but laugh.

“You’re winning sister of the year award.” He said as he released her.

“You’re making me cookies.” She retorted. Dick grimaced.

“Can I buy them?” He asked hesitantly. She shook her head.

“Homemade, with love. And I’m watching.” She added, smirking under the mask. Dick sunk back down into position.

“I’ll do my best.” He promised. Cass snickered. The last time Dick tried making cookies, he apparently caught his oven mitts on fire. There was still a bit of cookie dough on the ceiling he hadn’t noticed yet.

A flash of movement jolted her back into reality, their mark was making his move. She shot her grapple, and Dick quickly followed suit. “I’ll text you the plan tomorrow.” He promised as they leapt into the night.

Thanks so much if you read this far, and please comment or send me feedback directly if you have the time and don’t mind. I’m sorry if you completely disagree with how I characterized her (or Dick/Damian for that matter) I’m mostly relying on Damian’s canon interactions with her and Dick’s half canon half fanon personality (I know they don’t get on great in the comics...but sibling dynamics) and the rest of this portion of the fic would focus on Damian earning more respect for her (and learning to call her Cass - not Cain).

[rainydayhogwartsimagines]

Yo if you're still taking maruader requests can I get something with Regulus and a Hufflepuff reader who is muggleborn, and is like a bad bitch, but also an emotionally vulnerable bitch. I'm really bad at explaining but I just need a hufflepuff fic where they aren't portrayed as only sweet and adorable and cynical and I also love and adore Regulus. Also if you don't write for him then Remus is cool too.

OOOOHHH I LOVE BAD ASS HUFFLEPUFFS (my girlfriend says that I am one but I disagree, I am a cuddly bitch)

Regulus was misunderstood by most. Sirius didn’t misunderstand him though he just kept his distance. There was this paranoia from Sirius that no matter what he said to his brother in secret, it would always make it back to his mother. Regulus certainly interested you though. Why, who knows. But you definitely liked Regulus’ personality. 

He was calmer than his older brother. He was certainly intelligent too, being well versed in literature. Actually he himself looked like he came straight out of an old classic. He was certainly attractive and that was proven by the many girls who would attempt to make passes at him. Regulus never showed any interest. At least, not until you came along. 

You were this beautiful storm of a human being. Oh a fowl mouth but my god you were perfect in his eyes. He considered you to be a very intelligent girl, always knowing how to deal with certain situations in various ways. Regulus was so fixated on you but he never actually spoke to you. He’d chuckle at your jokes when he could hear them, he’d nod to you as a hello in the hall, but any interaction outside of that was rare. 

Thankfully he was your partner for a project in potions. Regulus began to noticed new habits of yours that intrigued him. You required visual aids to learn, you could comprehend reading but it didn’t stick. You mouthed your words when you were reading. You always had songs stuck in your head so you were always humming them when you took a study break. Regulus noticed you seemed to know everyone too considering when he would talk to you there was almost always someone waving at you or saying hello. 

Today something was different. You had a pen out, scribbling and constantly looking at Regulus while he did his portion of the project. You had finished your portion earlier, so it was pretty confusing to Regulus what you were doing. “Y/n, why do you keep looking up at me?” Regulus finally asked. You still kept going in silence until you sat down your pen and handed him the paper you were writing on. No not writing. Drawing. You drew this detailed drawing of Regulus and he looked at you. “Y/n this is... Beautiful.” He said looking at it. “I had difficulties with the hands but I think I did okay.” You shrugged. “Why hands?” Regulus asked. “I can’t draw them unless I’m looking directly at them, part of the reasons I just kept staring.” you chuckled. You looked at his hands and he lifted them. “Would you like to look at my hands?” He asked with a chuckle. You lifted them and studied them, tracing every line and vein. “Your hands are soft.” you muttered. He looked at your eyes as you continued. “So are yours.” He muttered looking at you. You finally looked up and blushed, clearing your throat and pulling back.

“Why don’t we talk more often?” Regulus asked. “Well... You’re kind of intimidating.” you admitted. “Me? Y/n, have you met me?” Regulus asked, making you laugh. “Yes. And I stand by what I said. You’re so smart and not many people can maintain a long conversation with you because of said intelligence.” You said. “But you’re smart too Y/n.” Regulus said. “I mean I guess but--” “No, you are. Y/n you have a very sharp wit and quick thought process. Do not undersell yourself.” Regulus said. You blinked a few times and then cleared your throat, tucking lose strands of hair behind your ear. “Thanks Regulus.” you said with a small smile. 

When the project ended Regulus felt slightly disappointed that his sole reason for talking to you was gone. Lucky for him you didn’t wish to cease contact with him and actually walked alongside him, laughing with him or listening to him. You two became quite the noticeable duo, most of your free time being spent around Regulus. He was learning all sorts of interesting things about you too. You came from two muggle parents who loved you, you always fought for the little guy and you always felt obligated to show new first years around. Regulus had heard stories of you being a bit of a bitch to any Slytherins who may have decided harass first years but he never saw the extent of it until someone called him a “Bloodtraitor” for being friends with you. You clocked the boy in the nose and Regulus had to pull you back from doing worse. It didn’t help that the boy’s girlfriend decided to attack you one day while you were alone.

Regulus still managed to find you though and got you out of there. “See this is why we don’t fight.” He said, patting your newly busted lip with a warm cloth. You winced and he sighed. “You shouldn’t have punched Gavin.” Regulus muttered. “He insulted you. And he has a wonderful history of treating the first years of my class like shit.” You muttered as he also patted a mark on your forehead. “Ow.” you winced. He apologized but kept tending to your scrapes. “You could get seriously hurt doing crap like this.” Regulus muttered. “Well you chose to be friends with me.” you said. He nodded. “That’s fair.” he nodded. You smiled at him and he looked at you, cloth in hand. You looked in those beautiful eyes. They were dark but strangely full of color all at once. He said nothing, slowly lowering his hand and leaning towards you. You looked at those lips and leaned in too, him cradling your head. You winced at the feeling of your lip making contact with something and Regulus pulled back.

“Sorry.” He chuckled. You smiled at him and he smiled at you. “Sooo.” you said making him chuckle. “Yes Y/n?” He asked. “You tried to kiss me.” you said. “Last I checked, you leaned in too.” He said. “I did.” You nodded. “And when your lip heals, we can try that again with a potentially more successful outcome.” He said making you blush. He smiled and booped your nose making you smile. 

He certainly treated you more like a girlfriend now, his hand usually finding its way into yours, him saying sweet observations out loud such as “You have the most harmonious laugh” or “You have the loveliest  eyes I’ve ever seen.” Regulus would receive backhanded comments from the Slytherins about liking you but none of them dared to say anything to your face. He didn’t care. As long as he had you in his life he wouldn’t care. 

 Regulus saw you one afternoon, you were sitting in the library reading and he sat next to you. “Hi.” He greeted. You smiled. “Hi.” you said. He moved your hair from your face and you chuckled. “Got some plans or something?” You asked. “Yep.” He nodded before finally making good on his comment. He kissed you, holding your face. “What was that for?” You asked. “For being you.” He said making you smile before you kissed him again.

Taglist: @amhyeah @newtaholic-staygold @bbeauttyybbx @fleurho @yodeadxss @secretaccshh

[oddaodd]

Hello I’m the person who requested “I Don't Go In For Sweets” and...just let me begin by saying thank you from the bottom of my heart, thank you for dedicating your time and your energy to write it, it was absolutely perfect and everything I wanted! I sent you this request the day before a huge exam (yes, instead of studying but that’s another story lol) and surprisingly, you posted the fic a day after I got my results and saw that I passed so it felt a bit like some reward and yeah I know you didn’t do it on purpose but still, it was amazing! Now let’s dive into a deeper analysis (I like to do this but it’s quite long, don’t feel forced to read it, no pressure!)

First, the very beginning: Polly and Tommy’s talk and how can I say this? It was so good, so well written I was actually seeing the scene as clearly as if I was watching the last episode of s3, I could actually hear them talk and see them move and it was too good to even feel like reading! I’m also so grateful you had the idea to bring the impact of Tommy’s mother’s death on him because...it’s not something we see a lot in the show but I’ve always been convinced that he had always been very affected by it and he would never want the same for his son.

Now, the wedding day: “The fact that everything about this wedding was so obscenely different from his first did soothe his guilt a bit” this kind of sums up a lot: Tommy compares all of this situation to what he had and rejoices over the fact it’s not as perfect, as beautiful, as great as what he had with Grace because it makes him feel slightly better, he isn’t betraying her as much as if he was enjoying marrying a new woman but then...she arrives and he can’t help it but find her pretty.

You perfectly showed this inner conflict of always having Grace in mind, always reminding himself of her and how better she was, this is not something he’s doing because he enjoys it but because it’s the best solution.

And of course he makes sure his opinion is known, he doesn’t smile back at the the altar, the big wedding kiss he gave to Grace is here, a simple, almost nonexistent brush on the lips, he doesn’t try to get to know his wife, on their way home, he has this revelatory lapsus “I've already asked the maids to take them up to your-our room” because deep down, it’s not his room or their room, it will only be hers because he won’t sleep in it much and he shows it a moment later when he doesn’t even sleep in the same room as her on their wedding night! I mean the scene where she’s waiting for him all nervous and giggly because she knows what happens...or at least she thinks she knows but then she wakes up alone in the morning, no “husband” in sight. Then comes breakfast, Tommy introduces her to Charlie (who wasn’t even at the wedding!!!) like he would present his new nanny because in a way...that’s what she is. He didn’t marry that girl because he wanted it but because it was something he knew his son needed. I really loved the fact you didn’t make Charlie love reader instantly because as kind hearted as he may be, he’s still a child who suddenly lives with an unknown woman his dad doesn’t even seem to like but one little discussion is enough to make him warm up to her and yeah I liked seeing this, it was very well done!

Then we get to see Tommy couldn’t care less about his wife and a thing kind of stroke me: reader has insomnia sometimes and Tommy doesn’t seem to worry or even think about it, he just sees it as more occasion for her to talk to him and ugh please no! And it shows how detached he can be which is so so in character! Afterwards you wrote about how he didn’t invite her to family meetings and stuff which I think was important to mention and maybe you didn’t think it this way but he keeps her away of very important part of his life: the business and the local bar he spends time with his family which is quite a...special place because that’s where he met Grace, that’s where their story began and family meetings? Inviting her would mean she’s part of their family, they trust her enough to welcome her but 1) he doesn’t really care about her enough to trust her and 2) would grace really have been invited to these meetings? Considering what she did? Definitely not so in not inviting his new wife, he doesn’t give her an advantage of being more welcomed in the family than grace was because, again, she’ll never be enough, she’ll never be grace. And it was so important to show this and you did it so beautifully, so subtly, wow!

The birthday party is also a great way to show that reader has a great relationship with everyone except her own husband and their convo in the office afterwards bluntly stated that. Tommy is so heartless, so cold, so...awful towards the woman he married! I really hated him in this moment because clearly she’s trying, she wants to make things alright but he will not let it, he will push her away no matter how harsh he has to be. And there is no apology, no compassion, nothing, he doesn’t care. He knows how bad his words hurt but he owes nothing to her.

And even when he’s awful to her, she still offer her time and her attention. He comes home completely drunk and considering the way he treated her, she could let him deal with his terrible state alone but she won’t, he’s her husband after all...I really loved how you turned that scene, we can see some of reader’s... I don’t know what to call it but so far, she let him have his space and now, when he rejects her help, she still gives him a hand. And then he compliments her, out of the blue and yeah he’s completely drunk but it feels true. And even better, he apologizes and explains his awful behavior and it was essential to have this! It was essential for reader to hear it from him that she didn’t do anything bad, it wasn’t her fault or anything, he just struggled with understanding what her place was. Even better, she reminds him she doesn’t want to take Grace’s place.

It was everything he needed to understand because right after this, he allows himself to let go a bit and then...a little bit more and again...some more until finally the stables scenes arrives! And my oh my! How much more beautiful could this story get? The fact they bond over something Tommy loves is just...amazing! It allows reader to see a gentle side of him because we all know how Tommy gets whenever he sees a horse, it could and will make any woman fall in love with him. And this scene holds so much...power and emotion, she trusts him enough to let him guide the horse even though she doesn’t know how to ride it and he assures her he won’t let her fall which is so important because he accepts the fact that she trusts him and he want to be worthy of that trust which is a big step because it means he cares. And they have the loveliest moment, just the two of them, no grace clouding his mind, no hatred, no unnecessary talk, just a husband and a wife enjoying the nice weather. He helps her off of the horse and he grabs her waist but he doesn’t feel the need to take off his hand and it shows progress, it shows he enjoys having her close and he looks at her, it’s the first thing that came to his mind, her beauty and now he doesn’t feel guilty about it. He stares at her, he enjoys it and he doesn’t want to stop. And finally because well, this story couldn’t just stop there, it reached a whole new peak in beauty: their real, true first kiss. It doesn’t mean we have a fairytale and happily ever after but it feels like a true promise of better things coming up, the kiss he gave her on their wedding day (as a way to seal their wedding vows) was given...reluctantly to say the least but now, he was promising her to be better in the future and truly respect those vows and it’s just the most perfect ending this story could have! It was just a magnificent, so beautifully well written story I don’t even know what to say anymore (and I think I’ve already said way more than I should be allowed to!) than it was perfect, you’re so talented and I’m so thankful you agreed to write this! I hope I haven’t killed you with my pages of review lol! Have a wonderful day <3

Ps. I didn’t proof read this so sorry for mistakes and nonsensical sentences :)

Hello!

First of all, thank you so much for writing me to tell me how much you appreciated your fic. I really like knowing that the person who requested a specific fic enjoyed it so, It means the world!

And just look at that! I certainly didn’t know anything about your exam, but what a marvelous most serendipitious coincidence! It makes everything seem much more magical, don’t you think? The universe never ceases to amaze me! 🥰

Also, thank you for the analysis. I always like to write things so that they go beyond words in order to convey feelings and stir deeper emotions and I’m so glad you not only perceived them but also liked what I was trying to project!

I too, feel in my bones that Tommy’s mother’s death affected him a lot. Maybe it’s not something that keeps him awake at night (or all nights) but I definitely feel like it is one of the thoughts he keeps on the back of his mind and is constantly nagging him. And polly of course is one of if not the only one who can see it.

As for the wedding and their marriage in general, I did want to show Tommy having this conflict because as we know, our man doesn’t let go of things easily. And like Tatiana Petrovna once said, his fear is freedom. Im not saying that Grace stopped him from being free, but he insisted on staying in the past, and when the reader comes up she’s basically carrying with her this humongous banner that reads FUTURE.

He does think the reader is pretty and he knows that his family accepts her and his son loves her but he doesn’t want to give in, he’s almost afraid of doing it, so what is the easiest thing to do? Push her away. And still when he’s awful to her she helps him because I want to believe she can also look behind the walls he so desperately put up around him. In the end I didn’t want to make it like *poof! They magically fell in love! * but like you said, I wanted it to end with a promise of better things to come.

Again, thank you so much for taking the time to write. I enjoyed analyzing Tommy’s mind with you and I hope you have a lovely day as well!

P.S: Congratulations on your exam results! 🤍💐

[sapphichollow]

imma do this cause im bored plus the ones youve done are so so good. alright. i am 5’1” with a more muscular build. i am an Aquarius with naturally brown, but i recently got it dyed platinum blonde (before TUA S2 dropped lol). i am a jack of all trades, master of none kind of person as i have so many hobbies and am apart of so much crap. i like to keep busy despite being a major introvert so alone time is highly valued. (1/3)

Thank you! That’s so nice! Don’t worry- it could be split into 20 parts and I’d still read it lol. I ship you with........... Otto!

“Well, you didn’t think I was naturally this blonde, did you?” Lol he absolutely did- it was one of the first things he noticed about you. When you first met  them, he thought it odd that you had similar hair. It allowed you to blend in with them little though, and some people mistook the four of you for siblings(awkward as hell). But then your hair started to return to its natural colour, and he relaxed a little. Let me tell you though, he was obsessed. He loved it, kept running his hands through it when you needed to destress. Since he’s the bookish type, Otto has a little battered anthology of poems. His favourite is called ‘ the Irish Peasant girl’. So (with your permission), he calls you ‘Nötbrun, after the girl. She reminds him of you- the ‘loveliest of the throng’.

Otto is dedicated as hell. Be prepared for him to ask about your mental health issues to find out more. At a word he’ll back down, but only because he trusts you. That doesn’t stop him from doing his own research though. How could he not? You’re on his mind 24/7 because he worries. Bless his little cotton socks. 

He might show up one day with a  stack of books to help you understand exactly what’s going on. Why these issues are there and how you can cope in a logical way. Emphasis on the coping part. He can help you find coping mechanisms and failsafes just in case so that you feel more comfortable. He’s sweet.  The guy admires you so much. You keep going despite it all and that takes courage. It’s harder to live than to die.  So he’s so proud of you.

He knows you’re clumsy, but that’s not an issue. the dude’s an assassin. The moment you drop something, he’ll just reach out casually and grab it. No biggie. He’ll make sure you know it’s no big deal- it’s all good  ‘Nötbrun’.

The first time he comes home with all bloody and gross, he expects you to recoil in disgust. Anything. He knows it’s super gross, and he doesn’t expect you to have to cope with the sight of gaping wounds all the time. But he’s surprised when you’re chill about it. He’s even more surprised when you show yourself to have a high pain tolerance. 

He would definitely support you in public speaking. He doesn’t even have to say anything, he can just be there. If you feel uncomfortable, he’ll hang around to make you feel a little safer. If you get stuck, or have trouble stringing the words together and start to panic, he will find somewhere quiet for you to calm down in, or try his best to prompt you. 

Don’t worry. He gets that you’re focused on yourself. In fact, he’d prefer you to take care of yourself- he can care for himself just fine, and his brothers are fairly independent so he’s glad you are. It’s okay to be selfish. You know what you are worth and you choose to let yourself blossom  rather than wilt. 

There! This one was actually kind of hard. It was a tie between Axel and Otto.  Hope you liked it!

(PS:Here’s a link to the poem if you’re curious-https://internetpoem.com/charles-joseph-kickham/the-irish-peasant-gi-poem/- Also, I’m sorry if your hair isn’t nut brown, though different nuts are different shades of brown.... right? So idk??)