#gentle hills

[purcaholic]

In a low poly haven where soft pastels dream, Crystal lakes reflect emerald peaks in the gleam, Gentle hills roll like murmurs of song, Fantasy whispers in tranquil air, where quiet belongs.

[uhhhj13iguess]

the kind of love you deserve

wc: ~2k

summary: you go on a date with theo, and it's all stiles can think about

this is very loosely edited, be warned

also tw: violence against women (just a lil, theo sucks), mention of bruises/cuts)

masterlist

hey, do you mind if i come over?

stiles stared listlessly at your text, legs shaking against his will.

this evening you'd been on a date with theo, and stiles made his stance on the situation clear from the moment you told him about it. he didn't have an ounce of trust in him or his intentions in general. but, when it came to you? he was more wary of theo than he'd ever been.

he didn't know what to say. he didn't own you. but he'd seen the way he had stared you down, the way he flirted with you when he needed an in with scott. he didn't trust him, and he couldn't not say something.

"i don't think you should go, (y/n)." he said firmly, arms crossing over his chest.

you stood shocked. "excuse me?"

"you know i don't trust him. i, i haven't found anything yet but he's slimy and there's something off about him. i don't think you should go out with him, he has to be doing it for a reason."

you let out a scoff at his comment. you expected some pushback: in all honesty, you hoped it would make him a little jealous. but this was just hurtful.

"what, so the reason can't just be that he likes me? that someone might want to take me out? jesus stiles, that's low."

he felt his whole body shake in retaliation. "no no, no, no that's not what i meant, come on, you know that,"

he stepped towards you as you shut your locker door, his hand reaching out for your own. "i just don't want you to get hurt."

you shook your head and pulled back from him. "whatever stiles, i'll let you know how it goes."

those were the last words stiles was left with, and he had no idea what was going on or how you were. he skipped practice and spent the entire evening pacing his room, wondering how your date was going.

he felt sick at the idea of you having a good time. not only did he feel stupid that he lost his chance to ask you out, but to lose it to theo? he couldn't bear the thought of him making you laugh, or worse, having his hands on you. the thought nauseated him.

but he didn't wish for you to have a bad time either. thinking of you being uncomfortable made him dizzy with fear. he couldn't handle the idea of you being hurt, in any way.

so as he saw your text come up a few hours after school ended, he didn't know what to think.

obviously, he instantly invited you over. i mean, what was he going to say, no? of course not. regardless of the outcome, he needed to see you. he needed to hear from you.

he followed his response with another, letting you know the door was unlocked and he was upstairs. he began to tidy what he could of his bedroom, tossing clothes both clean and dirty aimlessly into his closet, trying to make things somewhat presentable.

after about 15 minutes, stiles jumped at the sound of a soft knock on his bedroom door. he turned to see your meek figure hiding away in one of his sweatshirts as you practically cowered in the doorway. you had the hood pulled up so he couldn't see much of your face, but he could hear your soft cries.

stiles's chest felt as though it'd been replaced with a 50-pound weight looking at you.

he set down the hamper he was holding and walked over slowly. "hey..."

you refused to meet his eyes. "hi,"

he reached out for your hand and you took it silently, walking the two of you to his disheveled bed. you sat down on the edge together, stiles running his fingers over the back of your shaking hand.

"you were right."

he looked at you puzzled. "what?"

"you were right, about theo. i should've listened to you. i don't know what I was thinking -- going, I mean. as if anyone would care to take me on a date for real."

you looked down at the two of your hands in your lap. you hadn't yet looked at him. you didn't know how to.

"(y'n), what happened?"

you still didn't know how to, so you didn't meet his eyes as you slowly slipped off your hood. you sat in insecurity, feeling ashamed in your own skin as you sat there.

stiles' skin, on the other hand, was boiling.

his eyes grazed your face, his stomach twisting at the sight of a large gash across your cheek, bruises painted all around. you finally made eye contact with him, tears threatening to spill from your soft eyes as you looked at him for the first time. in turning your head towards him, he got a clear sight of the handprint-shaped bruise revealing itself across your neck and he felt as though his bones were vibrating with anger.

but that wasn't the emotion you needed in this moment, so he held himself back. you needed him to be strong, to care for you. but as soon as you were gone, he was going to have blood on his hands.

he reached up to your cheek slowly, caressing the tinted skin gently under his fingertips. he nearly threw up when he watched you wince in pain, immediately retracting his hand and grabbing yours once again.

"oh my god, (y/n). i, i don't even, are you okay? what happened?"

you grew guilty at the question, breaking eye contact. "I was stupid to even go. i don't know why I assumed he'd want me over to do anything other than fuck me,"

stiles was going to have more than just bloody knuckles.

"i went over, and he just got touchy really fast, and the second I made it clear that wasn't on the agenda, he just... he got, physical with it." you continued.

stiles listened as you spoke, still crandling your hands in his. he let out a shaky breath, trying to get out a question he didn't think he could ask without getting ill.

"did he, i mean, he didn't... did he?" he glanced down at your body.

"no, no nothing like that. i didn't let it get that far. but he just, he just got so angry. instantly. and he grabbed me and threw me, and he held me up by my throat and I,"

"i couldn't breathe stiles. i didn't know what to do."

stiles was going to kill him. he was going to tear every limb off his body one by one as he died a slow and agonizing death, and then he was going to resurrect him on the nemeton just so he could kill him again.

"i just feel so stupid. i should've listened to you, you were right. i don't even know why I'm here, maybe I feel like you deserve the satisfaction of getting to say I told you so." you let out a pained chuckle.

his whole body shook in protest as you spoke. he jumped up in front of you, hands grabbing either side of your shoulders. "no, please don't say that, oh my god (y/n). none of this is your fault, I need you to understand that. i was wrong for intervening to begin with. please, do not put this on yourself."

you shook your head softly against his hands, attempting but failing to avert his gaze.

"(y/n), I'm serious. please, just listen to me."

you let out a sigh, moving to free your body from his grip and leaning your head on his stomach. it was an awkward position for a hug as you sat and he stood, but he enevoped you immediately, wrapping his arms around your upper body and pulling you close.

"i'm so sorry, (y/n). come on, let me clean you up."

you nodded against his torso, letting him grab your hands and lead you toward his bathroom. he helped you slip the sweatshirt off your fragile frame, not having time to acknowledge that you were wearing his sweatshirt. he mentally made a note to review the thought of you wearing his clothes another time. he guided you onto the counter, and you let out a raspy laugh as you watched him frantically dig through the cupboards for a first aid kit.

your face fell quickly though, feeling embarrassed to have bothered stiles to begin with. you wouldn't have even gone on this date if you knew how to control your soul-crushing infatuation with your best friend. you thought theo would be a nice distraction, and you'd be lying if you said you hadn't been flattered at the attention. yeah, that sure went over well.

stiles met you face to face with his supplies, sick to his stomach as he brought a damp cloth to your cut. he matched the tears flooding your eyes as he cleaned it as gently as he could, seeing you in pain filling his stomach with rocks. he whispered soft apologies to you as he continued, making sure to care for you the best he knew how to.

once he was done, he grabbed your hands again, helping you off the counter and guiding you back into his bedroom. he walked you towards his bed, not letting go of you until you slid under his covers. he practically tucked you in, shrouding you in as many of his pillows as he could find. you snuggled in, feeling your body beginning to relax for the first time that evening.

stiles brushed the hair out of your face with a sweet smile, causing you to blush as you met his eyes. he turned and walked towards the door.

"wait, where --"

he turned to you with a soft smirk on his face. "relax, honey. I'm just going to grab you some ice."

the term of endearment lit your face up like a red light and you silently thanked the universe that he had slipped out prior to seeing your reaction to his comment.

you nearly dozed off in the few minutes he was gone, stirring at the rush of piercing cold against your cheekbone. stiles mumbled a few apologies yet again, raising your hand to meet his and hold the ice pack in contact with your bruised skin. he fumbled his way over you on the bed, crawling across your legs to make his way up to your side. you both blushed as your thighs pressed together as you sat, the close proximity bringing waves of limerence over you two.

you shuffled even closer, if that was possible, resting your head against his chest. he reacting instantly, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you in. he ran his fingers through your hair, letting his eyes close in the comfort of having you so close.

you let out a sigh. "i'm just sorry again. it was stupid of me to think someone would want to actually take me on a date."

stiles felt his body stiffen, angry at the situation all over again. he tried to weigh his words carefully, but the distaste in his mouth got the best of him.

"i think you just need the right person to show you the kind of love you deserve, if that's even possible. you deserve the world." he added the last part with a whisper.

you scoffed at him, letting out a laugh. "yeah, right stiles. this was my first date in like, forever, and look how it went. I'm starting to think this is what I deserve."

"please don't say that."

"no i mean really, maybe i'm meant to be alone forever. this seems like a pretty clear sign."

"let me try,"

your eyes contorted into a puzzled look. "what?"'

you felt stiles shift under you nervously, fingers trembling in your hair. "i stand by the fact that it isn't humanly possible to give you all that you deserve, but if you let me, I'd really love to try."

you lifted your head slowly to meet his gaze, your head spinning not only at his words but at the feeling of your noses brushing against each other as you looked in his big brown puppy eyes. you smiled as you watched his gaze flickered down to your lips every so often.

"i think that sounds like a date."

[lady-pe4nut]

The Adventures of a Brave and Oblivious Hobbit

Accidental Proposals

“Fili! Kili! If you both don’t stop messing around I’ll use my ladle on your hands again! Stay still, I won’t ask again.” A red tipped ear hobbit taps his foot in irritation as he combs through the hairs of the princes. At first they asked him innocently to help them with their hair, now they are trying to get away? It was downright ridiculous, “I have to braid your hairs back to the way they were so stop fidgeting Kili!” Smacking his arm lightly, braiding his hair with practiced hands.

Fili blushes when Ori and Nori walk in on their hobbit braiding Kilis hair. Their eyes wide they almost laughed, they knew Bilbo didn't understand dwarfish customs but, they had to get everyone to come see this moment. Before Fili could object Bilbo pulled on his ear “I told you to sit still and wait your turn, you both are gunning for no desserts tonight.” Deflating in his seat he awaits the inevitable laughter of his company.

One by one the area fills with dwarves watching as their hobbit/burglar fixes the prince's braids. His work was on par with their own skills in hair braiding it was beautiful to admire. Placing his hands on his waist he looks at the rest of the company of dwarves who’ve gathered round. “If you all are quite finished gawking? I have you know I may not be as precise with my hair braiding but, it isn’t terrible. I hardly think my hair braiding skills require this much attention?” Ticked off he says “Since you're all here? Who is next to get their hair done?” Before any could reply or voice an opinion a deep voice behind the company of dwarves speaks “I am” The company immediately moves out of the way for their King and leader.

“Master Baggins, I see you have braided the prince's hair?” Bilbo blushes a bit embarrassed his fire from earlier all but vanished “Well.. They asked for my help?” His eyes darted to his nephews narrowing his gaze at their cheeky smiles “Did they?” Bilbo nods timidly “Yes but, Thorin it’s quite alright you don’t need to get your hair done by me. I’m not” Thorin interrupts firmly, a warmth brewing in his gaze. “You asked who is next and I’ve replied Halwûn? Is this where I should sit?” He gestures to the seat in front of Bilbo, in the background Kili whispers to his brother Fili “I told you pay up” a bet had been placed between the two siblings. If their uncle Thorin saw Bilbo braiding another’s hair he would be the first to take over. Kili also bet their uncle would use a word in their native tongue for Bilbo. Fili owes him two desserts now and with a glare from their uncle the two and the rest of the company disperse.

Bilbo, oblivious to the lack of bodies around continues to unbraid Thorins hair. Gently he brushes through the strands, the raven hair capturing his attention. Humming a soft tune he begins to braid the sides of his hair. Thorins voice startles him out of his reverie, “Master Baggins?” Blushing embarrassed, thankfully Thorin can’t see his face. “Oh yes I didn’t hear you?” A rumble of a laugh meets his ears “Master Baggins, are you aware of Dwarvish customs?” Working on his second braid to match the other against Thorins face. “Not really Thorin, I know some from what the others have taught me but, unfortunately not a lot?”

Clearing his throat Thorin says “For our people braiding hair is sacred, it is meant for family and those who are proposing.” His hands stop a furious blush fills his face he can only whisper “Oh?” Thorin turns his head over his shoulder looking at Bilbo with that same warmth “Why did you stop?” Gulping dryly he avoids Thorins gaze “I did not know Thorin, Kili and Fili asked for my help I would never mean to do such a thing if I would’ve known?” Thorin turns his head forward “Bilbo I want you to finish braiding my hair” stuttering out a response nervously “But you said it means to propose?” Thorin doesn’t stutter “I know what it means Amrâlimê, please continue.” Bilbos face is red hot, his poor fingers trembling as he braids Thorins hair. 10 more minutes pass and finally he is done braiding.

Thorin stands from his seated position, turning around he sees his hobbit nervously moving away. “Do not leave” Bilbo gasps softly meeting Thorins gaze. “Amrâlimê, do not be afraid. I know you didn’t understand the deeper meaning behind braiding another’s hair?” Thorin moves around the seat towards his hobbit who despite being told not to leave is backing away. His one doesn’t know he’s about to be stopped by a tree. Before Bilbo can move away from the tree against his back, Thorin stands in front of him consuming the space. His hands reach for his hobbits' gentle smaller ones. “Bilbo, your hair has grown longer since we’ve left your home in Baggend? May I braid your hair Bilbo Baggins?” Bilbo is in another world, Thorin is close, he smells really good, he didn’t deny his accidental proposal? Beet red he bows his head, nodding unable to say a word when he feels familiar fingers grasping his chin. Lifting his ones head gently Thorin asks again “May I braid your hair Amrâlimê?” Swallowing he meets Thorins gaze “Yes” the air is charged between them and for a moment he feels this has changed everything.

“Come” his hand leaves his hobbits chin guiding him with clasped hands to the seat he previously occupied. Sitting behind his hobbit he picks up the brush working it through his one’s honey brown curls that fall shoulder level. He is close to his hobbits ear when he says “I haven’t been truthful with you from the moment we first met I’ve kept a secret. In my peoples culture we have what is called our one. It is the person we are fated to be with our blood rushes just at the sight of them.” His voice deepens at the tipped pointy red ears “at the feel of them. Their smell or touch is welcomed and treasured above all others.” Bilbos quiet voice speaks up “Thorin, why are you telling me this?” Thorin braids his loved ones hair “You, Bilbo, you are my one” Bilbo gasps softly “I’m your… You mean I’m your fated.. Me?” Thorin finshes his work and he stays in his seat behind Bilbo “Yes you are mine, my fated half. Bilbo Baggins I braided your hair for everyone to see that I’ve proposed to you.” He stands moving to kneel on one knee before Bilbo “Will you accept me and my proposal for your hand in marriage Amrâlimê?”

Bilbos eyes water nodding he throws himself against Thorin nuzzling his neck “Yes! Yes! Of course I do! Of course!” Thorins hand grasps his chin gently lifting his head, their lips meeting for the first time electricity shooting down their spines. Behind some of the trees the rest of the company forks over money to the ones who bet their king would not only get their hobbit to braid his hair but also propose to their hobbit.

The End

Khuzdul Translation:

Halwûn- sweet one (masc)

Amrâlimê- Beloved or My love

Authors note: This took me an hour and a half. I kept getting flustered! My babies deserve all the happiness in the world. Here is a second chapter of my stand alone short and fluffy fics of my favorite couple~ Also please be kind. I am a young author who is still learning how to write. If there are any grammar mistakes I apologize but I finally wrote a story where they kiss aaaah! Until next time my readers! P.S. I am writing a story titled “He sees flashes of Gold in his Hobbits eyes” 3 chapters are up, go check it out! Leave your likes and comments~

[cybertron-smash-or-pass]

TF One Orion Pax

[blighted-beak]

(nsfw) full version here

(blood, ghost hands, ball fondling, jacob's ladder piercing)

[pixiefeatherkw3]

Nah, I think I'm actually obsessed with Broken and Hunted as a dynamic, actually

[vaguely-concerned]

margaret taunting york with the handkerchief dunked in rutland's blood as he's dying and then later protesting heartbrokenly that her son is just a boy as the york brothers kill him vs. richard genuinely seeming to be the most upset about what happened to rutland among the york brothers (he's the one who brings it up the most afterwards, the way he furiously calls clifford a child-killer), and then what he's going to go on to do in his own play........

they would be so drift compatible in a way they'd both despise lmao (with absolutely no shipping undertones whatsoever, to be clear, it's all about the recognition of the self through the (literal) Other (derogatory) here)

[bunnyunderthebed]

if our friends hadn't pulled the trailcam footage i wouldn't've believed you. i didn't remember a thing, as far as i was concerned i went from cooking dinner to waking up in a hospital bed.

the way you tell it, we were knee-deep in a discussion about a series we had been watching when i turned to look out the sliding door and dropped the plate i was holding. you whipped your head around from your seat on the couch to see me staring out into the cold, dark landscape and mumbling about a deer. you asked what the matter was but i was in some sort of trance, all i did was slowly walk towards the door, opened it, and stepped out barefoot and lightly clothed.

you called out to me, screaming at me to come back, but i didn't respond or even acknowledge you, just continued to follow a deer you couldn't see into the snow and howling winter wind. you considered picking up the red phone in the kitchen, the emergency line to our friends across the farm, but couldn't bring yourself to do it. not until you could see the fire over an hour later.

they couldn't see the flames from their house, situated lower than ours, but an atv ride up showed them your frantic tone wasn't for nothing. you couldn't explain and they didn't understand, but they ran to the fire garage and started the tanker pickup truck anyway, leaving you on our porch to stare at that pillar burning into the dark sky.

of course the fire marshal eventually arrived, and once i was loaded into the ambulance statements were gathered and an investigation began. our friends had followed the smoke to a patch of unused woods, a place where not even walking trails had been made, and found me standing in front of a tree fully engulfed in hellfire. the flames burned with more intensity the closer they got, seemingly unaffected by the wind. the snow around the trunk was fresh, still cold and powdery to the touch despite the extreme heat that threatened to scald their faces. they called out to me, fighting against the heat to reach me, but my eyes were locked on the burning wood. they managed to grab hold of me, and as they tried to pull me away i began to scream.

it's right here! i have to kill it!

i fought tooth and nail, clawing and biting at their hands, but eventually they overpowered me and restrained me in the back seat. they said i screamed and howled like an animal until the fire was out completely, then passed out and wouldn't wake up. the fire marshal was shocked when he ventured out to the site and found nothing. no fuel, no fire starter, no tools, no evidence of someone having started a fire at all. just the ashen tree, burned to an ebony crisp from roots to branchtips. he had no choice but to rule it an act of god and commend our friends for their quick response.

the doctors were no less confused in their examinations. for having been mere feet from a veritable inferno, as the video showed, they couldn't find any burns. dehydration and mild frostbite, they said, marveling at how even my clothes were devoid of any damage. i was clear to go home the moment i woke up, and i walked out with you headached and confused.

you ruminated on it while you drove us home, going over every detail with me in the hopes of making sense of the ordeal, but one bit seemed to stick out to you.

"The strangest thing was the tree itself," you said over and over, "it was a lemon tree."

"We can't even grow lemons here."

[theokusgallery]

is that your man?

I will not allow you to DISRESPECT him like that,

(just kidding I will totally allow you to do that it's so fucking funny skjfhsk)

[transcendragon]

There is Still Beauty in the World (Reminders 1) - I’ve decided to start a gentle reminders series in my art. I might do the same reminder multiple times if I feel it works. I hope you enjoy it

My original art made in Procreate, image description in alt text

[13ag21k]

I headcanon Ezra as someone who absolutely adores being taken care of and knowing there are people out there who care for him and take notice of his potential, that's why despite everything that Maul does to them and despite his manipulation Ezra still doesn't hate him, Maul still protects him from the Tusken raiders and calls him apprentice and he doesn't use violence with Ezra and maybe I'm looking too much into this but I would've absolutely loved to see them grow a stronger bond where Maul only opens up to Ezra and trusts him and is redeemed slowly. But I kid you not I mostly would be thrilled to see Kanan and Maul argue over the methods the other uses to teach Ezra and constantly tell him to pick a side.

Ahsoka probably sees them all together and frowns, a little amused by the situation she asks: so Kanan is your master?

Ezra: Yes.

Ahsoka: and Maul also?

*insert a shot with Ezra holding Kanan and Maul's hand on each side*

Ezra: yes.

I'm smiling from ear to ear just thinking about Kanan training Ezra and trying to teach him some important jedi technique and philosophy regarding the force and Maul just making snarky comments and constantly correcting Kanan or Maul straight up barges into the room and slames the door open yelling: Ezra it is sith training time, While Kanan's eyes go as wide as saucers "HIS WHAT?" And a whole fight breaks out and Ezra just walks out with a face palm, head hanging low, tired and lowkey absolutely fond of the way these people who could have absolutely anyone as their apprentices to guide and look over chose him and care for him, who only a while ago had no one to trust and rely on, thinking he is alone and unwanted and now there are so many people believing in him, cheering him on and wanting to pass down their wisdom to him.

That's what would've made my heart explode and brain glitch with happiness.

*cue to me crying*

Also Maul calls Ezra "little sith" and Kanan flinches visibly everytime he hears this nickname, Ezra loves it tho.

[halflingkima]

recent google searches: how to gently explain to booktokkers that i don't disregard their fravorite "smut" bc i'm a prude, but bc it's bad writing

[dfl-inc]

AI image generation

[sunshinechay]

I can’t shake the feeling that Mew calling Boston instead of Chuem about how he was about to have sex with Top was just a genuine display of friendship but Boston took it as Mew attempting to gloat.

Mew was just happy and wanted to shake his happiness with someone else. Someone he thought would be happy for him. So he called Boston, because Boston has a lot of sex and Mew thinks that he’ll be happy that Mew is finally losing his virginity. Boston however, seems to take it as Mew attempting to one up him.

They might both look down on each other for just about everything, but I think this was the one time Mew wasn’t trying to do that. Instead he was trying to connect about something he knows Boston enjoys. Boston has just slide too far down the hill of his own sanity (like many other have said, I’m thinking Hitchcock type slippery slope) to see it as anything other than being in bad faith.

Both are usually so committed to seeing each other in a bad light that this feels like the last time we’ll see either of them making any attempt to connect with the other.

[broareweabouttoviberightnow]

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starting a collection because every time I see one of these I think to myself well this is about Steve n Pony

[for-the-writing-artist]

It's the little things in life that help me see God. The deluge that pours just seconds after I'm home safe ─ like a friend who holds an umbrella over my head for just a second more.

In the life of a loved one, helped just a bit more before despair ─ not comfortable, but endurable. Even if there's a late bus.

But also, when compared to others, how taken for granted it all used to be. Before that little spark of something (helped by the mundane), shows me the little ways my life is shaped and veered by will higher than my own.