#wanted to post this early cause I want to see what the consensus is before it gets confusing with people calling him all sorts ghgb

[hoe4sports]

In the enemy’s locker

Katie Mccabe ft Leah williamson x reader

A/N: Consensual mild waterboarding. Can be read as a sequel to “Baller”.

You were tiptoeing after Jonas, the coach of your new club. He invited you to come an hour early to practice so you could see the facility and get everything from keycard to athletic wear sorted. “This is where the physical therapist is, if you have issues or concerns, especially regarding your acl; see him immediately.” He knocked on the door, and a few seconds later the door swung open. “Welcome to Arsenal!” The therapist yelled as he dragged you into a hug. “I’ll take it from here Jonas, I’ll bring her in before orientation.” He cheered as he dragged you along into the room. You werent too sure about what you were doing, but you would bet on a lecture about your acl and how to keep it activated. He signaled for you to hop up on the bench, and being a professional athlete that was common curtesy.

“Right or left acl?”

He did tests on both your feet to check out the resistance. “It’s my- OW” you yelled as he flexed the right achillies . A sense of embarrassment quickly spread across Your body, and you looked at him with an apologetic look. You hadn’t really taken well care of the achillies since you tore it. It was always a bit sore, so you figured that the soreness was the new normal. “I got just the solution for you!” he sang as he disappeared around the corner. For a hot second, he reminded you of the Harry Potter scene where he gets his wand from the old guy. You fully expected him to come back with some sort of rehab device or a program for you to do before bedtime. However, he arrived with a box. He opened the box towards him and pieces of silk paper instantly got thrown to the floor. “I hope these are alright, we don’t have many color options! I can order in a specific color if you want. There is also options of adding your name or number on it. I already have all your sizes and measurements, so that wouldn’t be no issue.” he sang as he pulled up a pair of cleats.

“This is the new aeroluna 5, made for post tear women!” You werent really on board as you had tried endless things from before and landed on the Nike mercurials . He practically smacked the shoes on your feet, and lo and behold. They fit like a glove. They were comfortable and so supportive. You swore, you could’ve almost cried. The shoes however, were hot pink which you honestly didn’t mind. You looked up at your new born saviour with tears in your eyes. “Hot pink it is” you said as you adored my new cleats. You thanked the weird; but kind man and walked to the team warderobe.

“Ah, ladies, this is our new striker! Y/N! Now, please be kind to her and teach her the Arsenal way of caring for each others.” Jonas said as he patted me on the back. “Ex-girlfriend, finally! We meet at last.” Leah yelled out causing everyone to laugh including you and Jonas. She even did a clap and a little dance. “Your cubby will be next to Leah’s so go ahead and take a seat” the swede said as Leah patted next to her spot on the bench. You felt rather flabbergasted by seeing your face mid strike glued to the wall. It was blown up, and you were stuck with feeling some secondhand embarrassment. You popped down by Leah, and carefully listened as Jonas went on about his hopes for this new season. Leah lifted your right leg over her thigh just like the old days. When your acl would kill you every practice, it was the only sense of relief you got. You looked around the room, all the girls seemed so nice. You recognised quite a few of them, as you played them last season and they were good with their defence. A very well organised defence. Jonas was chatting away about his weekend, and you bent down to retie your shoes. Your need for the shoes to be tied equally tight was one of your peeves from your childhood. “And then, we need to work on our abil-“ he started as he was cut off by the door swinging open.

“I’m so so sorry for being late, my cat broke down and my car ran awa-“ the woman chaotically stated before cutting herself off. Her voice was awfully familiar, but you couldn’t seem to place it. You smiled as you curiously leaned forward before your face froze. You stared, she stared, Leah stared and everyone stared. Everyone went silent, including Jonas. “Oh this is season is about to be real good” Leah mumbled nudging you.Jonas was just as invested in this drama as everyone else remember your last meeting on the field.

“Katie McCabe” You said. “You” she said back. She walked towards you and for a second you were concerned that she was gonna knock you out. “Scared, McCabe?” you asked as she was nearing you. “No asshole, you are sitting next to my cubby.” she said with an annoyed tone in her voice. “Better sleep with one eye open because next time, it’s not my ankles that are getting cut off” You whispered as she sat down beside you, but as far as she could without causing attention.

As Jonas finished up talking, the girls started changing into their workout gear for the field. Everyone was wearing the same t-skirt except for Katie. She had pulled her sleeves up so she could show off her bronzed toned arms. “Trying compensate for your terrible tackles?” You said as you nudged her. You mean, it was hot. She was hot when she wasn’t trying to chop your ankles off, but you werent letting her in on that information. Katie turned around and looked at Leah. “How’d ya know her?” she asked with her Irish accent. “Ex-girlfriend and long term one night stand” she spat out as you felt slightly embarrassed. Leah was very fit, so it honestly didn’t bother you too much as she clearly was not ashamed of admitting that you for the last year had slept together at least once a week.

You went out on the field and did drills. Jonas was really testing the group, making sure that the girls hadn’t skipped their programs during the off season. After 2,5 hours, you were all fried and while you were drinking; Leah squirted her waterbottle at you making your white top and white sports bra see-through.”Leah!!” You yelled as you got up while removing the cap on your bottle as you attacked her and forced her to the ground while you sat on her. You held the bottle above her head and slowly poured everything out on her head. Katie looked at you annoyed, “For fucks sake, stop flirting” You looked at her with confidence while my nipples were showing through my top. “Jealous of you not getting these?” You teased as she just stared. “Or perhaps you are intimidated by my ability to uno reverse your tackles?” followed by a wink. “Fuck you, Y/N” she yelled as she walked away. It was safe to say, that she was not gonna get to pick on you for the next 5 years.

[rise-my-angel]

I don’t think there’s any error in your story. I truly believe you’re portraying Jon as he should be. People sometimes forget that Jon is someone who has been resurrected. They don’t come back the same as they were before, and you can see that difference in the early chapters you wrote, when Jon was still a relatively innocent person, compared to now, after he’s suffered and changed so much over time, particularly due to his death and the betrayal he experienced. It’s not surprising that his behavior might seem a bit darker, and I think that’s something people don’t understand.

Jon is someone who was betrayed, murdered, resurrected, and then had to take justice into his own hands against those who killed him. And even after all that, he had to persevere. It seems like people have short memories—or maybe they haven’t truly read the books—because they forget about Lady Stoneheart, who came back as a ghost of herself after being killed, forgotten, and revived. Jon is in that exact position. You can’t expect him to behave innocently after seeing him evolve from a boy to a commander to a king. It’s just not possible.

Now, regarding the scenes with Reader: It’s absurd for them to say that he enjoys hurting her, especially when, in the very same chapter you posted this Monday, it’s clear that Jon has a conflict about that. He literally apologized for being the way he is, because it’s something he can’t control. But even so, it doesn’t come from a place of malice or enjoyment in causing her pain. We’re talking about two people who have been through so much. It’s literally part of Reader’s story. It’s impossible for people not to understand this aspect of the narrative.

I think people are too used to interpreting a character as either good or bad, and they fail to see shades of gray or nuances within the story itself. This is exactly what makes Game of Thrones so compelling—because even the characters who are completely evil have something that distinguishes them or makes them somewhat understandable. Each one has a story that makes them more human, and people can’t expect a character to be entirely good or entirely bad; otherwise, you end up with a flat, unrealistic character.

This doesn’t mean that what Jon is doing is bad—it’s simply something that can be interpreted as darker. But again, that doesn’t make him a bad person. It’s just something he does in private with the person he loves, and there’s nothing wrong with that.

I really do try to convey that Jon's relationship to sex is a struggle within him. He also comes from his only true sexual experience being forced against his will to pretend he enjoyed what was happening.

Jon uses sex as a crutch because his love for you is so complicated and even hard for him to understand. It's a time where there is nothing but you both in your rawest dynamics and you both express things differently. Jon has never known a consensual sexual relationship as an adult before being with you properly, and he has never known a resurrected life without you in it. Both of those things have an impact on how he engages in sex and he fights with himself a lot on what's right and wrong. He doubts your own consent because he knows what's it's like to pretend you're fine with it when you might not be, that was his first real sexual relationship.

So, the smut aside I really don't want people thinking the way I write Jon is with malice or he views the reader in a disrespectful or harming way. This is a very traumatized man with a very limited and very unhealthy relationship with sex before marrying you and as much as I explore the readers complicated relationship with her sexual trauma, I want people to remember that Jon is on his own journey with his sexual trauma as well.

The last thing I want is my smut to make people uncomfortable and to think that I'm writing the men with harmful intentions.

Jon's status as a victim of sexual trauma that has gone woefully neglected is something that has a huge impact on his relationship to sex now and the trauma hes experienced from his betrayal, death, resurrection and everything which came after makes Jon's healing journey with sex a lot harder for him to understand.

[houseofbrat]

Hey HoB - I have a question on the Cambs revamp and whether this represents a victory of style over substance.

Royal Watchers are over the moon with their new social media because it gives them content to consume but I’m not so sold on it appealing to gen z and shoring up support for the monarchy, which is how they’re trying to justify the Hollywood celeb style rebrand. Personally I found their comms over the Coronation weekend in very poor taste, seeming to erase The King and Queen and promote it as it was their event (after they disappeared for a month and only resurfaced the Thurs before when crowds had gathered to act like it was for them).

But does anyone see through it and will the media eventually see through it. Take the big lunch on the Sunday. The Yorks were already posted to Windsor so why didn’t they go to Cornwall or Chester (remember those titles?) to celebrate with local people. Instead they went to the long walk where Royalists were gathering for the concert so the headlines were they were “mobbed” and it looks great on their socials. But to me it misses the point of what their role is supposed to be?

Same for the pic on World Bee Day, something Catherine has never done an engagement for. But she’s suddenly cast as the “Queen Bee” (such a fortuitous headline - almost like it was planned) when The King has advocated for bees & beekeepers for years and the Queen sells honey from her private beehives to raise funds for charity.

This is a long way of asking if you see the current focus on style rather than substance being a winning strategy? Has it changed William’s prospects for when he’s eventually King? I think they’re underestimating the intelligence of gen z that flashy 60 second reels are what will win them over if they’re already ambivalent, especially as both W&C are now middle aged.

Maybe I’m old fashioned but I think engaging people where they are is still the best way to win them over. I think about the King and Queen’s visit to Project Zero early in their reign. QC had met one of the volunteers of the charity at a big lunch, he’d asked her to visit, she said write to me, he did and she followed through and took The King.

They interviewed some of the youth that go to the center and common consensus was they didn’t care about the Monarchy but they could see the genuine efforts to engage and that’s shifted them from ambivalence. I just don’t see Hollywood videos having the same affect or am I just naive?

Sorry for the long post but just wanted to give context for my thoughts and interested to hear your opinion and predictions.

[ask from 21 May 2023]

I always tend to think of social media--in whatever specific app or modality--as a tool. It's a delivery system for information. At this point, I think they are just putting up content even if they can't tie it directly to a patronage or visit. I'm not really sure if that's bad in the long run. Also, neither Will nor Kate make enough visits on the regular to constantly give their chief of social media enough content without doing photos like the beekeeping one, so they have to pull from somewhere.

The only thing that would really change William's prospects as king is if he did more non-Royal Foundation visits on a regular basis. Except he doesn't. And won't. He would have to do things like the Project Zero visit you mentioned above. Except he won't because he prioritizes the causes he wants to champion: mental health, homelessness, and the environment.

William is not as well-practiced in visiting people and places he doesn't have a direct interest in as he should be, at the age of 41. Why--when he and Kate visited Wales earlier this year in March--did they have to include a tie-in to mental health? Shouldn't visiting the people of Wales and seeing all the interesting things they are up to be enough? Apparently not. If a visit cannot be tied to the issues and causes of their Royal Foundation, they aren't interested in doing it.

Which means they are excluding vast swaths of the British public from ever meeting them.

Kate is guilty of it too. Even next week when Kate visits the National Portrait Gallery for their re-opening, there's going to be a portion of the visit devoted to seeing what kids under the age of 5 are up to at the NPG. Yet another visit devoted to the kiddies. When is she ever going to visit a factory? I'm pretty sure the UK still has plenty of those.

You're never going to see Will or Kate do a visit like Charles did at a Kellogg's factory a few months ago. They consider it beneath them because they act like celebrity activists. Because when it comes down to it, they are.

[seewetter]

Thank you for your reply!

I should really let this post pass me by but it's still circulating and it's such blatant anti-intellectualism and Noble Savage nonsense, I want to say something before this hellsite starts claiming it's a myth that indigenous Americans ever practiced human sacrifice or something.

To be clear, there is plenty of evidence for human sacrifice in many time periods and many cultures. Including indigenous Americans: The Inca have a well-documented history of this. I am also absolutely convinced that Aztecs (Mexica) and Maya and Cahokia and many other societies of indigenous America practiced human sacrifices and I thought this was fairly clear from my post.

A reply to your response to the OP:

We totally agree on this. While I have come across a claim that there are examples of human sacrifice among Greeks and Romans in the classical period, we have a huge body of literature on the Greco-Roman world and there's nothing on the scale of human sacrifice in Mesoamerica waiting to be uncovered. You can bet that early Christian writers would have been unable to resist a polemic against such "pagan practices" if Greeks and Romans had done this at the time.

I see where you are coming from, but would argue that Schliemann did in fact find Troy in this exact way: by taking the stories seriously. Not good practice. Yes, I agree it's like reconstructing the war of the roses based off Lannisters versus Starks or reconstructing the life of Genghis Khan based on Danaerys Targaryen. But I think a better argument against this would be: This is the Greco-Roman world we are talking about and we have overwhelming textual evidence to the contrary. It's not that you can't use Game of Thrones as an archeologist, it's that if there are better and more reliable sources of information, then use those.

100% agree.

Sure.

I'll answer this below.

Tumblr posts often lack nuance. I don't want to defend OPs use of the phrase "white historians" because I don't know OP or how OP meant it. But as a reader, I assumed it was tongue in cheek. I don't think "white historians" are an actual demographic, let alone that white people who work as historians have unified opinions on anything. That said: with the sheer amount of plagiarism and scientific misinformation going around in all areas of science (from the replication crisis in cancer research and psychology to the way string theorists managed to present themselves as the next big thing in physics for several decades), I think it's fair to say that Tumblr users looking at historical research from the outside don't know what to think. Without scientific training, talking about scientific research is difficult. The Spaniards did not carefully preserve Inca writing and many Aztec and Mayan writings were destroyed and this erasure of cultural history gives rise to unscientific and wishful speculation. It causes people to project their 21st century desires onto ancient cultures. But it also causes others to trust an academic consensus that at times seems dubious. Academics as a whole love to pioneer new research and explore new possibilities, but science has grown so complex that people can no longer verify basic scientific practices like carbon dating without sufficient training. We can mock the TikTokers that claim Ancient Rome didn't exist, but there are many facts of history that someone could just claim are untrue and we, as a lay audience, would have to guess whether that objection is valid.

I agree that saying white historians [...] erase mesoamerican societies from human history/ entirely ignore them is a bombastic claim with zero evidence. But let's be at least somewhat fair: The Mexica Empire and the Nahua peoples have been lumped together as "Aztecs", a word based on the mythic city of Aztlan but never used by these ethnic groups to refer to themselves. Not all historians use this term, but it's certainly in use in some places. Similarly, I'm pretty confident that although we lost an estimated 99% of ancient Greco-Roman writings, we still have a considerably larger body of Greco-Roman sources than Mexica / Nahua sources. Like I'm pretty confident that most cultures throughout history, most colonized cultures, have a much much smaller amount of surviving sources than what we have from the classical period. And I think that OP sees the effects of this imbalance and assumes that therefore modern historians "favour" the Greeks and Romans, which then gives rise to this idea that the Mexica are being "ignored". It's an unfair conclusion and it's anti-intellectual certainly, but I don't think OP is simply trying to be intellectually dishonest on purpose. I think this is just what it feels like to look at the desert left behind by colonization and wonder why everyone is hanging out in the Greco-Roman oasis over there with Thucydides and Vergil. How many Aztec authors do I know by name? None.

A reply to your reply to me:

I'll take your word for it.

Thanks for sharing academic sources. I will give them a read.

Yes, I did not read the entirety of the Wiki article before linking it, though I did do some reading of it. I am honest about these things and you'll find I tend to disclose my lack of research quite clearly.

You misunderstood what I was trying to say. My concern is with popular scientific and pop cultural portrayals of cultures. Mel Gibson made a movie (Apocalypto) about the Mayan empire where the human sacrifice narratively serves as moral justification for the conquistadors to come, like angelic saviours, and put an end to the atrocities of human sacrifice. While I can appreciate that Christian societies have had positive impacts on foreign cultural practices (Jesuits were quite protective of indigenous people and ending human sacrifice at scale sounds like a good thing) the terrifying thing is how the movie can abuse the truth. Yes, of course this is a question of deliberately ignoring and choosing not to portray Spanish atrocities. But I think it is worth highlighting that maybe indigenous Mayans and Aztecs might not have all agreed with the practice to begin with. And if we can envision people around the world as three-dimensional and say that they have (at least hypothetically, I don't know the historic reality) the ability to disagree with horrible things done by their people, then it will be harder for people to imagine the Mayans as people who deserved to be slaughtered or plundered or raped by the Spanish, which is what some "Christian" personalities (Matt Walsh) explicitly do. I argued against the high death count out of ignorance. I will have to read the research papers you provided before deciding what I think.

Thanks.

I'm sorry my lack of knowledge on the subject made you angry. My avatar is not meant to look smug.

It figures seewetter also buys into the whole "European Pagans were violently persecuted by the evil Church!" nonsense.

The church was and is not evil. So no, I don't buy into that.

In reality, European polytheists either converted out of their own volition or persecuted Christians right back before eventually converting.

I'm not quite sure I understand your argument.

"persecuted Christians right back" implies that both sides violently persecuted each other. If both sides persecuted each other violently, then we are in agreement that (nominally) Christian communities did produce violent persecutions against European polytheists. And if we agree that the rhetoric of Christianity could be used in attacking, killing etc. European pagans, then surely you believe "European Pagans were violently persecuted by the [...] Church" to the exact same extent that I believe it.

I am more than aware of atrocities committed by Estonian polytheists against German Christians, for example. I had no intention of hiding that history and in fact think it's worth learning about.

But this argument of yours needs some work:

In reality, European polytheists either converted out of their own volition or persecuted Christians right back before eventually converting.

If I am correctly understanding this:

European polytheists either (A) converted willingly or (B) retaliated violently and then converted later.

And on it's face, that's correct. Many polytheistic people found Jesus: Arianism and Nycene Christianity where popular in Western Europe, many Vikings converted to Christianity and there is no historic continuity between Neo-Paganism and European medieval paganism.

So maybe we are just having a disagreement based on the misunderstanding that you (falsely) thought that I think the Church was evil?

To me it just sounds a bit like "European polytheists either became Christians peacefully without violent persecution or the persecution went both ways and eventually European polytheists converted..." ...peacefully? You don't say.

Can violent persecution cause a population to change their religious practices to escape the violent persecution? If so, did that sometimes happen in European history between (nominally) Christian communities and European polytheists? If it did, wouldn't those be unwilling conversions?

And one-sided persecution is historically documented. You can find examples of it in the very Wikipedia links I shared. This doesn't mean "the evil Church" was doing it, it just means that communities calling themselves Christians decided to bully and in some cases kill European polytheists who were living as minorities in those communities. And all I was saying is that this went on all the way into the 1700s, meaning that Europe still had traditional pre-Christian communities at times when most people imagine Europe as a homogenous Christian entity. And if Europe could be diverse like that even in medieval times and early modernity, then so could Aztecs, Mayans and Incas be diverse and not all hold the exact same values and all agree that human sacrifice is absolutely great and fantastic because it is a cultural practice that has established itself in their midst.

I'm not providing any sources because this is too wide a subject and also because if you, unlike seewetter, read that second Wikipedia link, will see that those Pagan rebellions happened before conversion settled in for good.

I'm not sure not providing any sources is ever a good idea.

If a person converts to Christianity, they aren't going to start a Pagan rebellion, are they.

But if your argument is that these rebellions all happened before the society around them had "settled in for good", then you have to clearly define your terms. I think when Wikipedia uses phrases like "practiced in secrecy" that indicates to me that some European polytheists were persecuted in the second half of the 1700s. And Wikipedia also gives us case studies of what this persecution looked like.

8.

I was not making the argument that everyone in Europe united against the church or some nonsense.

I was making the argument that peasant uprisings indicate how people in feudal Europe could disagree with their living conditions and their feudal lords.

The reason that list includes both references to peasant uprisings and religious examples (medieval unbelievers, Estonian polytheists fighting against German knights who rule their country, etc.) is because these are all examples of people in Europe not being on the same page about values.

I'm trying to argue against the broad brush with which people paint Europe or Indigenous cultures as if "these guys are like this and those guys are like that" and then there's a simple choice between Europeans and Indigenous people where you can smear either group by lumping them together.

You might find it ironic that I did not worry about "white historians" but am concerned with this. And you might find it strange that I would be upset by Apocalypto or Walsh (and not mention it). But in all seriousness, I did not expect a response like yours and assumed anyone who reads my post would be roughly on the same page. I felt the examples of Estonian or Hungarian pagan rebellions, for example, were an interesting way to illustrate this internal split within societies and to me, lumping together and slandering "white historians" just seems less noteworthy than arguing against the humanity of people deemed "savages". I simply like the idea that we can think of an Aztec noble or warrior or peasant who has more opinions than just state-sanctioned opinions in favour of the priesthood. If Europeans had annoyed people who refused to enter churches, then Aztecs probably had those guys too.

9.

There were people who wrote entire treatises condemning witch hunting. There were medieval kings passing laws against witch hunting. There was a pope who agreed that abortion was a mortal sin but there were popes that didn't. There were popes who supported witch hunting and slavery and those that didn't. Did all European children join the children's Crusade? Were Christians in the Eastern Roman empire pleased about the conduct of the crusaders in their lands?

So why wouldn't I assume that Aztecs can be equally complex. Especially since so much of their writings were destroyed? Why is that such an absurd assumption? I am not saying that there had to literally be protests in the streets of Tenochtitlan. I am saying people were complex. And protests could have easily been lost to time or erased on purpose. We hear the Spanish had an easy time conquering the Aztecs due civil wars, which were due to feuding lords. But how do we know that's the whole picture? I am not saying that the whole picture includes Aztec protests against human sacrifices, but we know that the indigenous society of Cahokia practiced human sacrifices and then literally that society collapsed because people left the city. The stopped living there. They moved out. Since Cahokia left no written record, we don't know why people left. We don't have to romanticize them or idealize them. But maybe some people just had enough of all the sacrifices, all the killing of people of all age groups?

If a medieval peasant can think his lord is not acting in accordance with the Bible even though the nobility is said to have be ruling by divine mandate and stage a protest despite being raised with these ideas, then a medieval Cahokian or Aztec can think that there's something fishy about the justification of the Aztec and Cahokian human sacrifices. And may do something about it.

Thanks for reading.

white historians will learn about the ancient greeks practicing human sacrifice and agamemnon sacrificing his own daughter iphigenia to please the gods in the iliad and go 'oh how tragic!' but still think the culture and people have value, and then hear about the aztecs engaging in the exact same thing and go 'those are savage cruel subhumans whose culture us foreign and mysterious and scary' and erase mesoamerican societies from human history/ entirely ignore them as though they have no value, like at least keep your supposed ethical stances consistent

[bakugohoex]

“i want you to have me...all of me”

pairing: hitoshi shinso x female reader

cw: virgin!reader fluff, porn with a plot, nsfw (MINORS DNI! loss of virginity, corruption kink, dacryphilia, kissing, fingering, spit kink, oral fixiation, creampie, consensual sex, protected sex, nipple play, nipple sucking, jaw grabbing, praise kink, degradation, bondage by capturing weapon, biting and marking, hair pulling, cunt slap)

word count: 5300+

a/n: i haven’t posted in a week cause of revising but yeah this is for a collab and i have one more collab event going on so yeah from now to the 21st they’ll only be this fic and another fic coming out, enjoy.

other information: corrupt a virgin collab by @seita

summary: in which shinso finally takes the next step with his sidekick after being unable to confess he finally works up the courage finding out your own secret as you both decide to take the next step in your newfound relationship

↞ back to my hero academia masterlist

He couldn’t help but stare at you, stare at how pretty you looked on his arm, you were more than just your looks though. The way you silenced a room with your quirk, the way you were able to easily fit into any conversation and the way you always eagerly spoke to the pro hero.

It had been a long night of mingling at the event for pro heroes that Shinso almost forgot the real purpose of it. It wasn’t like the two of you were dating, you were his sidekick and that was it, you had a powerful quirk that would get you far in the hero society. But most of all you were so damn innocent.

Your lingering eyes on his form as he entered the agency, the way you’d give him those tender looks whenever he explained the day's tasks. He couldn’t help but stare at you from a distance, the way you spoke calmly to the other side kicks. He had brought you along to the event more for his own benefit than what he had told you the day prior. Words of getting you to talk to other pro heroes when in reality he had just wanted you on his arm for the night.

The stupid purple dress that clinged to your body had made him unable to resist the temptation. You looked too good to be left alone, so as he remained at your side, introducing you to other pro heroes, Midoriya and Todoroki both smiling happily at you. You seemed to easily converse with the two pro heroes even speaking to the rowdy Bakugo as he arrived with drinks for the three of them. Midoriya offered his to you which you had happily taken, Shinso didn’t need to worry, of course he didn’t.

But another feeling had taken over him as he watched you converse, watched you happily take the drink. Fingers brushing against Midoriya’s fingers, a feeling of an unknown jealousy that made him begin the walk towards the four of you.

His arm moved to your back as you gave a sweet disgusting smile at him, “haven’t been getting into any trouble, have you?”

“No…of course not,” you stifled as he smirked looking down at you.

“We should get going,” he led you away as his hand remained on your back, he turned to meet the three men who watched you leave. A sickly smirk on his face as he couldn’t help but feel a burst of energy hit him as he talked to you.

You were too perfect for him to not resist, for him to not touch. “it’s so early though Shinso.” You whined as he didn’t meet your gaze, you were nothing more than his sidekick, you have no feelings for him, he could tell from the way your gaze lingered back at the hall. “We sh…”

“We have an early morning,” he interrupted as you closed your mouth, your proposition to spend more time with him seemed to have gone over his head as he began stepping down the steps towards the car park.

You hated how cold he could get in a matter of seconds, how every time you’d see him smile and it would turn into a scowl once he realised what he was doing. On many occasions your friends at work had told you about the many occasions of when Shinso would get pissed off and the whole agency would become annoyed as well.

Shinso watched as you hadn’t followed him as you looked up at the night sky, thinking – most likely about how much you wanted to be nowhere near the man. His dull eyes focused on you as he saw you take the steps towards him cautiously. You were too pure, too vulnerable for him to ever have, and as he kept you at an arm’s length he knew tomorrow was already doomed to be an uneasy day.

Shinso had dropped you off to your apartment without a world, he watched you enter the complex before leaving. He was about to drive off when he banged his hand against the steering wheel, if only he had confessed, the event was supposed to be the alone time he had wanted with you. But his insecurities and nerves had gotten in the way, as he banged his head against the wheel he couldn’t help but feel almost pathetic.

He had gotten over the torment of his quirk being villainous years ago but now with someone so filled with a painting vitality that was unknown to him he couldn’t handle it. What was even worse was the way you banged your head against the door. You could’ve said something more, reassured him, asked to spend more time. But you had remained frozen even in the car ride, your gaze on the wisps of black and everlasting speckles of white shine through the mist.

Both of you remained tormented by your overthinking as neither realised the feeling that was ready to explode tomorrow.

You walked into the agency bright and early as you were met with one of your friends, Mai grabbed your hand as soon as she saw you. Taking you to where some of the offices were and most of all where Shinso’s own office sat, the glass separating everybody from him. As you looked through the transparent material, “what’s happening?”

“He’s been in his office just staring outside of the window for the past two hours,” your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Okay and why doesn’t someone just go and ask if he’s okay?” You questioned as you were about to step forward and go yourself.

That’s when the feeling of multiple arms stopped you in your tracks, “listen newbie, there’s one rule you have to follow here and that is to never go into his office without him asking.”

You chuckled at how stupid they were all being, “what’s the worst that’ll happen?”

“You don’t want to know?” One of the sidekicks said as he shivered.

You raised an eyebrow giving an unamused look as you barged past the hands, they looked at you hesitantly but didn’t stop you, “newbies gonna learn the hard way.” One of the sidekicks said as Mai elbowed them watching what was to occur.

You knocked on the glass as you didn’t hear a response but still walked in, “Shin…”

Half way through your speech you felt his capturing weapon wrap around your body as he turned the chair, his eyes widened as he saw you caught in it. He let go in a matter of seconds, but eyes remained still as he looked at how you still gave a toothy smile. “I…I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I got warned so it's my fault…” you trailed off as he began to unwrap the cloth off of you. The image ingrained of you wrapped in it as he was able to fuck into you, shaking his head as he put it back around his neck. “…is everything okay?”

“Yeah…” Shinso looked outside seeing how people seemed to be doing everything but their jobs. He stepped past you going to the glass as he opened the door, “don’t you all have patrols to go too?”

His eyes flashes into a haze as everybody seems to scurry to grab their things for patrols as they leave the building. “Come on…” he murmured as he began walking out of the building, if he was going to go on a patrol he was going with you,

He had spent too long of a time without you that if he wasn’t going to confess today then he’d forget about you. He was giving himself today, he had to do it, he was a Pro Hero, he had everything he had wanted. His dream was a success  but your arrival had made him want you and now with you so close in his grasp he had to try at least.

His eyes flashed to the way you walked beside him, you seemed tense, quiet even. Your hero costume ordaining you perfectly, the whites and lilacs making the pure vessel you had ready to be tainted. He licked his lips as he fingers went through his hair, the Artificial Voice Cord around his mouth.

You always loved the way it worked, having heard Shinso speak about it when you had first arrived. It was interesting and the start of what you would call a friendship when you had asked to see how it worked. “Your staring Y/n,” he said, “focus on the civilians.”

You nodded as you looked back to the surrounding areas, it seemed like villain attacks were on a low at the time, even with petty crime it was easily handled by the both of you. You wanted to speak about last night, how he seemed to want to confess of something but instead the silence and awkwardness that occurred instead.

“Shinso…is something wrong?” You murmured as you both walked passed an alleyway.

He looked down at your face, the way your hero costume clinged to every part of your body. He had no idea how you didn’t get cold from wearing it especially when winter occurred. But your question made him think instead, he was only irritated this morning due to not confessing to you.

But his liking of you stemmed from more than just wanting to ruin the purity you had, he liked how you spoke to others, how you easily became friends with the other sidekicks, how you looked was an added bonus. But most of all he liked that stupid goddamn smile you’d have whenever you saw something you liked. And at that moment Shinso was seeing that stupid smile, the way your eyes crinkled, and lines formed as your lips were full and cheeks pushed to show even more of your smile.

He stared at you, the way you continued to look up and smile at him he was silent, and you didn’t care because he finally looked at peace. The startling noise of an ice cream van to the side had made you focus away from him, the way you stared at the kids holding their ice cream as it dripped to the side of their fingers. “Come on, I’ll get us one,” Shinso didn’t let you answer, instead taking your sleeve as you both went towards the truck.

He was avoiding the matter at hand, he hated how he couldn’t be his normal blunt self, he was able to talk to people. He knew he was that’s how he had made friends when he had finally joined the hero course. But as he looked over at you, the way you looked at the different ice creams before pointing at the one you wanted…you were someone who wouldn’t glance at him twice.

As he passed the ice cream to you, you took a lick of it as you looked at him take his own. He didn’t even know if you knew what you were doing, licking at the sides as he watched your tongue. He shook his hair trying not to stare but as you both continued the patrol of a less crime filled area. The ice cream dripped to the side of your hand and finger.

There was a silence as you both ate in silence, as you both turned to see the agency. Your fingers with the white dairy as you sucked on it, he couldn’t help but watch as each finger came out of your mouth with saliva sticking to it.

It was Denki who had got him out of the trance, stopping the both of you as he came from his own patrol, “Shinso,” the man looked at his friend as he gave a tired look.

“Oh Kaminari, what are you doing here?” He questioned as he watched his blond friend look down at you.

Denki already knew of you, having seen you last night but not spoken to you. He had seen Shinso’s lingered looks and had often heard the man speak fondly about you, “just passing by you must be the Y/n I’ve heard so much about.”

“You’ve heard about me,” you smile out, it wasn’t the same one you had given to Shinso but Shinso was able to witness you converse with his friend. How much he loved that about you, how whatever situation you were put in your ease to become friends with another pro hero.

Denki nodded as he looked back at Shinso, “all good things, you were right she is very pretty Shinso.”

Shinso glared at his friend as Denki chuckled, “I better leave before I get punched by lover boy.”

“Kaminari,” Shinso murmured as he just wanted his friend to leave. Denki left with a wave as you gave a confused look tilting your head to the side to look at Shinso.

“Pretty…”

“I…I��” Shinso knew it was now or never to confess. Knowing that the rest of his day would end up becoming busy with other sidekicks and scheduled meetings he had. He stopped you in your tracks as he looked down at you, your soft gaze staring up at him lightly.

“You are…You’re pretty…”

“Oh thanks, I don’t really see it, but I guess the quirk makes me look more pre…”

Shinso interrupted quickly, “No…no it’s not that. Fuck…” his hand went to the back of his neck as he didn’t dare look into your eyes, “I like you, okay? I don’t want to ruin anything though and you probably don’t like someone like me because of my quirk and…”

Your hand went to his cheek as you stopped his rambling, “you’re such an idiot.”

“If you’re going to reject me you could be n…”

You interrupted him once again, “I’m not, I like you too…you’re the first person I’ve ever…ever liked and I guess I’m not very good and showing my feelings…but I do like you too.”

He met your gaze as your hand remained on his cheek, he looked at you, how small you seemed. Your eyes flashed to his lips as he looked at you softly, “we can take things slow, whatever you want.”

Before you both could lean into one another, the sound of sidekicks coming through the corner made you both move apart from one another. An unnerving silence between the two as Mai came towards you, “let’s get some lunch Y/n.”

“Okay,” Shinso had been taken by some of his other sidekicks over an issue that occurred as you and Mai left on your break.

Giving one last look behind you as you looked at the man, he had a new glistening to him as he licked his lips. He was finally accomplished as he couldn’t wait to finally have you be his.

The day continued with Shinso being busy with the issue that occurred, you had barely seen him as you and Mai went on another patrol, both speaking about the events of the weekend. You spoke about the pro hero event you had been to and how nice the number one pro hero had been. A shocking surprise for Mai who seemed to feel intimidated by the green haired man. “I’m telling you he was so nice, like he offered me his drink.”

“Ugh I wish Shinso had invited me now, I want to meet him so badly,” you chuckled lightly as you both watched the sun begin to set. You could understand why he had invited you of all people last night now, how his stuttering of how pretty you had looked in the dress you wore for the event. It had all connected and all you could think about was the man.

When you both arrived back at the agency, an uneasy emptiness had settled, Shinso was missing alongside other sidekicks. You and Mai didn’t question it as you both grabbed your stuff to leave, just as you both stepped outside the doors, you saw Shinso pulling at his hair as he seemed angry about something, taking aggressive steps as he walked towards his office. You would have gone to see him if the pull of Mai didn’t stop you, instead taking the long walk back to your apartment instead.

Shinso had become pissed as soon as his sidekicks spoke of what occurred, having to spend the whole day sorting out their mess. He had finally come back to the agency after hours of running around the city. His mind had been on you and with you having already left and unfinished business occurring.

His mind was focused on just you, wanting to only see you, wanting to only have you. As he took his car keys, leaving the agency as quickly as he could, a few goodbyes here and there. There was only one thing on his mind, and it was you, corrupting you.

You had finally felt free after the confession this morning, lying on the sofa as you flicked through some shows. Shinso had been your first crush ever since you had first seen him when he was starting out. But for him to like you back, you felt like a kid. A worry settled through you, you were inexperienced, not even having had your first kiss let alone slept with someone.

Under the guise you had of wanting to seem pure, an unsettling urge to have Shinso in you had taken over you. The way his hero costume clung to his frame, his hands moving through the capturing weapon. The said capturing weapon wrapped around your wrists as he fucked your mouth, you couldn’t lie and say that even if Shinso had spoken of taking things slow all you wanted was him.

The sound of the door being knocked at made you jolt as you opened the door to see the man in question. He was still wearing his hero costume as he looked at you with a fiery lust, “I can’t wait,” he murmured.

His hands went to your neck as his finger brushed against your cheek, lips smashing against one another. You didn’t know what you were doing, instead hands moved to his hair as you followed his movement with your own. His tongue gliding through your mouth as it skimmed against your tongue, he heard your low moan as his other hand moved to your back making you arch into the kiss.

He let go as your faces stayed close to one another, the fury remained not subsiding. He looked at you with lust as his mouth moved to your neck, “I need you Y/n…please.”

A soft kiss placed against the crook of your neck as you leant your head backwards to allow him more access. You had been thinking of this for too long, wanting him but his edge as his fingers played with your shirt. Slipping under as his hand gripped your sides, feeling your skin under him.

“Shinso…” you whispered as his mouth continued to kiss at your neck, he looked up at you. A realisation flashed through him as he let go of you.

“I’m sorry Y/n…I shouldn’t have…I said we should take things slow and I…I…forgive me today has just been…” he had begun pacing around, as he went to close the door.

You didn’t know how to react, you wanted this, wanted to help him and as you interrupted him, your own lust took over, “I want you.”

He stopped in his tracks as he looked at your form eyeing you up and down as he moved towards you once again, “are you sure?”

“Yeah…” you looked down as you didn’t want to admit the truth.

“Y/n…” his hand moved to cup your face, forcing you to stare up at him as his lips were close enough for you to touch, to feel once again, “tell me properly that you want this.”

“I want this…it’s just…” he waited for the response giving you a tender look as you looked at him with a soft glow “…I’m a virgin.”

He always thought the persona you put on was a façade that someone capable of fighting any villain and talking to anyone would have had one-night stands. Especially with how pretty you were, everything about you was pretty from the way your hair sat to the way you spoke. Shinso’s quirk relied on people talking but whenever you spoke he felt more enchanted than any of the people influenced by the brainwashing.

“That means I can ruin you…myself.” He felt even more turned on as he watched you stare up at him, he pushed you back on the arm rest of the sofa. You sat on it as one of his legs spread your legs open, hands gripping your face, his thumb skimmed against your lips as he pushed it inside watching as you sucked at it. “You gonna let me ruin this pretty…” his thumb moved out of your mouth as he skimmed your saliva across your mouth and cheeks, watching the spit fall down.

“Yes…” you were breathing heavy as he smirked seeing how dazed you looked. Your face tainted in a matter of seconds, gripping your jaw with one hand as his other went under your shirt. He went under your bra as his finger moved to flick against your nipple.

The instant you moaned, mouth agape, the build of spit he had in his mouth was spat right into your tongue. You moaned as his finger continued to pinch at your nipple, the spit mixing with your own as Shinso was able to see the strings of saliva against your tongue and mouth. “You’re already doing good baby.”

The praise sent a flutter through your body as he noticed how your eyes glossed, “let's finish this in your room.” He gripped your thighs bringing your legs to wrap around his waist as your arms moved to his neck.

You kissed him as he could taste his own saliva and your spit mix between both of you, as he kicked the door open, seeing how your room reflected you perfectly. He put you on the bed as your mouths remained connected. Spit on the sides of your mouths as he saw how much you craved him, your hands moving to grab onto his capturing weapon.

He closed the bedroom door as he knelt on the bed, one knee between your own as he wanted to feel how wet you were. Taking the capturing weapon off of his neck, he watched as your eyes lingered onto it, putting it to the side where he could easily grab it. He kissed you softly, leaning down as your back hit the duvet.

“You sure you want to do this?” He whispered as his hand lingered across your shirt, his hand waiting to hear your response.

You nodded as he waited to hear you verbally say it, “I want you to have me...all of me.”

It was all he needed for his hand to lift your shirt above your head, the way your breasts sat in your bra, hard nipples from his fingers already having flicked against them. “I’ll make you feel so good, baby…make you scream for me.”

You moaned as his mouth sucked at your nipple, his fingers flicking against your other one, as his other hand moved to your joggers. Hand about to divulge into your underwear, your hand had moved to pull at Shinso’s hair as he continued to suck and nibble at your tit.

“Hi…Toshi”, at the sound of his name, his hand went into your underwear, feeling how wet you had gotten. His fingers beginning to play with your clit, feeling the nub between his fingers as your moans intoxicated the room. “M…more…please..” you arched your hips to feel his fingers against your slick filled clit.

The movement made Shinso stop sucking at you, he looked at you, how slutty you had become to feel even more of him. He took his hand out of your underwear as you whined to feel more of him, his fingers filled with your slick, “already wet…isn’t that slutty of you…” He watched as you tried to get passed his legs to feel some more but he put his fingers across your lips instead, “you want to taste yourself…open up.”

He was too close to your lips as just as you opened your mouth, he moved his fingers and sucked on them himself, “you took too long.” He teased as he sucked each finger forcing you to watch as your hands tried to get to his trousers, but his other hand had restrained both. “If you keep moving I’ll have to tie you up…or is that what you want?”

You both looked to the side where the capturing weapon was, he leant against you, the imprint of his cock through his trousers pressing against your clothed cunt. You rutted against him, he gave a groan at the movement against his cock as he took the capturing weapon, the carbon coil flicking between his hands as he grabbed your hands. His cock skimming past your cunt once more, as he put your hands above your head, using the cloth as it wrapped against your wrists, tightening it at each movement you made against him.

“You want to be tied up for me…if you’re going to act like a slut, I’ll treat you like one.” He watched how your chest became full and raised as you arched to feel more of him, he took his shirt off as he was left shirtless.

Your eyes filled with a hunger as he went down to kiss you, “reply to me or I won’t fuck you baby.”

“I…I want to be tied up…” you whispered acknowledging how turned on you had become just from his action.

“Good…” his hand moved to your underwear, going past it as his hand patted your cunt, “…girl”

Both his hands moved to pull your joggers down your form, pulling your underwear down simultaneously. He watched how flushed you had become from being exposed, “pretty virgin cunt baby.”

“Take it…” you murmured as your hands ruffled against the material.

He undid his belt as he looked at you softly, “I intend too,” fingers moving past your clit as two fingers divulged into your cunt. The feeling of your walls pushing against his fingers, “you touched yourself baby.”

“I…I…” as his fingers moved inside of your cunt, you moaned as he went further into you, “Y…yes…”

“Naughty girl aren’t you,” he watched you squirm, your legs twitching at the feeling of his thick fingers pumping back and forth into your wet cunt. “Want to cum? Want to cum on my fingers baby?”

“To…Toshi, ple…please let me…cum…” your mouth had widened, drool coming from the corners as you felt a coil in your stomach.

He pumped into you continuously, his fingers moving into the back of your cervix as he watched you twitch even more, “cum for me baby.”

“Toshi…” your loud scream of his name as the coil snapped the gush of cum being pushed back into you as his fingers continued to move past your first orgasm. “Wan…want your…” you didn’t have to finish the sentence, already knowing what you wanted as he watched his fingers were soaked in your cum. Stepping out of his trousers as he took his own boxers off, the imprint of cock made you lick your lips. He went into his pocket finding a condom as he looked down at you.

Cum dripping onto the bed sheets as your cunt looked plump and swollen, ready for him to take something no one else had even seen. Rolling the condom onto his cock, his fingers moved to your mouth, letting you have a taste of any cum that was left on his fingers. “You ready for this baby,” he whispered as his arms trapped your frame, he leant down to kiss you as you moaned a yes. “This is gonna hurt a little bit…”

His indigo hair damp as it rested against the back of his neck, he watched your hands squirm wanting to touch his hair as he moved one hand to unravel the capturing weapon. As soon as your wrists were free your hands went into his hair, pushing him to kiss you more, his cock moving past your clit and first orgasm.

“I want you…” you whispered as your faces were only a mere inch away from one another, he looked down at you as your eyes were filled with a different feeling. Not of a lust that you both had experienced, but a passion to finally become one.

His cock moved past your clit, he pressed into you slowly as he watched you moan, eyes watering. Wiping the tears with one hand, “you’re doing amazing baby, just a little bit more.”

His cock was half way into you as he began to thrust back out of you before going back in, your eyes watered even more at the feeling of his thick cock stretching your cunt out. “To…Toshi, I can…can take m…more,” he nodded as he pushed into you, his base finally meeting the entrance of your cunt as you moaned his name.

He began to thrust back and forth into you, going deeper into you at each thrust, your legs wrapped around his waist as his knelt feeling his cock go into your even more. His mouth went down to kiss you softly as saliva missed between one another once again, the feeling of his spit sticking to the corners of your mouth were prevalent as he continued to fuck into you. “Yo…you’re so fucking pretty baby,” he whispered as you he moaned into your ear.

The sounds of him groaning and moans of your name making you want to feel him forever, “To…Toshi please more….” His thrusts became quicker as he watched your eyes roll to the back of your head. Your hands limp around his neck as even your legs seemed to have fallen due to the impact of each thrust.

As you gained your high, eyes opening as you saw his form, the way his hair fell across his face, his perfect body and cock, but most of all the look of love he had for you as he met your eyes. “I want to...be with you,” you whispered into his ear, his form changed as his thrusts became even more sloppier, “Hitoshi…I…I love you…”

“I love you too Y/n…” the sound of his voice making the coil snap in your stomach, feeling the white gush out of you. Each sloppy thrust becoming even sloppier as you moaned his name at the feeling of your release. The use of your cum being used to help him get even more into you, “I fuckin…love you baby.”

His words repeated as he felt his own high, groaning your name out loud as the cum gushed into the condom. Sliding out of your cunt collapsed beside you, sweat across both your forms as you gave a tired look at him, the night sky reflecting from outside, the small lamp to the side illuminating the room as he turned to see. The way your chest rose, cum dripped down onto the bed and hands moved to move his hair away from his face, “I do love you Toshi.”

He took the condom off as he tied it letting it drop as he watched you move to rest against his chest, fingers against his lower abdomen. He smiled watching how your eyes became tired and began dropping down slowly, the feeling of his body against you remained.

Kissing the top of your head, he pulled the covers on top of you both as he watched you snuggle closer into him. Almost wrapping your body against him as he looked up at the sky seeing the wisps of new stars and new colours, looking down at your sleeping form and the new relationship that had formed.

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[the-iceni-bitch]

A Birthday Gift

Pairing: Nomad!Steve x fem-Reader

Word Count: 5665 (I know, I know)

Summary:  The nomad crew have been holed up with you for months and tensions are high. Nat, being an unrepentant pot stirrer, decides to arrange a pleasant birthday surprise for you.

Warnings: Explicit language, explicit sexual content, explicit descriptions of consensual violence, SMUT! PORN! 18+!

A/N: Hello my fellow hoes and sluts! My birthday is today and it has me in some kind of mood, so I hunkered down and blasted out this fic. @stargazingfangirl18​‘s lovely Tree Trimming fic has my holes quivering for some hot Nomad sex, so please sit back and enjoy my birthday present to all of you!

You had always hated your birthday.

Fortunately, Nat was completely willing to take your mind off it with a good sparring match. The snow was falling heavy outside of the large windows on the side of the gym, but the minor exertion was keeping you pleasantly warm. You’d been on the mat for almost an hour, but you still couldn’t seem to get your mind to focus.

Of course, it didn’t help when Rogers came in, glowering, to work the bags, giving you a wary look before he settled into his routine.

Nat and the rest of the team had been with you for almost 3 months now. When she had called you after the events in Berlin, to arrange a potential safehouse for her and her compatriots, you of course offered to have them join you at your isolated lodge on the Snæfellsnes peninsula. You were as off the grid as they come, and with the help of your Wakandan friends, still able to provide the modern creature comforts you were sure they had become accustomed to at the Avengers compound.

You had missed Nat, after all. It had been almost 7 years since you last saw her, but the grin she gave you when they landed in the early Autumn made it seem like she’d never left. You got to know everyone else over the months as well. Sam and you bonded quickly after you introduced him to Aquavit and spent the next 2 days helping him slowly move back to solid foods. Vision of course took everything that happened in stride, and while you couldn’t say you were friends, you had developed a mutual respect for each other. Wanda took longer to warm up (understandable after everything she had been through) but when you told her about the time you had spent in Sokovia, she quickly came out of her shell, and the two of you would often stay up through the night reminiscing about your homes. Even Barnes had softened once he got a look at your weapons room and you took it out to the Fjord to test out some next gen tech Shuri had sent you.

The only problem was Rogers.

No matter what you tried, it seemed that every time you got near him his hackles went up. You could feel him watching you constantly, and whenever you met his gaze, he would simply clench his jaw and stalk off like a cat.

“He’s just overprotective.” Nat always said. “He’s a big papa bear protecting his cubs. He’ll warm up.”

You snapped back to the present as Vis and Wanda wandered into the gym chatting idly. She had convinced him to join her out in the snow for a brisk hike, and was now laughing lightly as she brushed a dusting of soft flakes off his shoulders. Bucky was working his way down from the weights level, patting his neck dry with a towel. You heard the pounding on the bags stop, and glanced over to see Rogers unwrapping his hands as he stared at you, but this time he didn’t break eye contact when you met his gaze.

Those deep blue eyes disarmed you, and you lost your concentration for a split second. Nat seized her opportunity and crawled up your back, wrapping he legs around your neck and shoulders to try to get you into a submissive position. You tried to regain your composure, but your instincts kicked in for just a moment, and when you drove yourself back into the mat to break her hold, you landed quite a bit harder than you intended and thought you heard a snap as she gasped out in pain.

“Shit, Nat you good?” You scrambled onto your knees and looked at your friend with concern. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Rogers striding over, jaw clenched and brow furrowed. Vis and Wanda stopped their conversation to glance over and Bucky moved quickly to intercept his best friend with a hand on his chest.

Nat broke the tension with a laugh, and everyone in the room relaxed. “God, Y/N, guess you’re still an aggro bitch. I though I might’ve had you for once.”

“Jesus, Nat. I’m sorry, lemme grab you some ice. Anything broken?”

“Don’t think so, just a bruised ego. Look at you, you haven’t even broken a sweat.”

You tossed a pack to her from the freezer, along with her typical post spar electrolyte drink. She gave you a wink as she pressed the pack to her ribs, and you could only shake your head at her.

“Steve, you wanna take over for me?” She said to the large man who was now leaning against one of the windows, only half listening as Barnes tried to distract him, while glaring at you.

You both snapped your heads around to stare at her and started protesting over each other while she grinned back and forth between you.

“That’s probably not a great idea…”

“Don’t want to hurt her…”

“Oh my god, you two are ridiculous. Y/N, you obviously still have to work out your birthday issues, and Steve, you’ve been complaining for the past 3 weeks that me and Buck are getting too predictable.”

“Y/N, it’s your birthday? We should bake you a cake!” Wanda exclaimed, always the little ray of sunshine.

“That’s ok Wand, please don’t.”

“Should we perhaps sing?” Vision was now adding his two cents to the discussion.

“No singing. Thank you, so much, for that, Nat.”

“She’s right Rogers, you’ve been looking pretty bored during our sessions, change of pace might be good for you.”

While you were eternally grateful to Bucky for getting the topic off of your birthday, you really didn’t think Rogers was going to go for this.

“Fine, we’ll give it a shot.”

You looked at him with surprise, but gave a shrug and nodded. You definitely still needed something to take your mind off the day. You loved Nat, but always felt the need to hold back during your sessions, and it might be nice to take the safety off.

Nat looked like the cat that ate the canary for some unknown reason, as she giggled and clapped her hands before setting down onto one of the stools to observe. Bucky looked relieved as he leaned back against the wall, chugging the contents of his water bottle. Wanda and Vis went back to their flirty conversation, content to let you two do your own thing.

You unzipped your hoody and threw it to the side, stretching your neck and bouncing on the balls of your feet to loosen up. Rogers looked you over, eyes lingering over your tattoos that you realized he’d never seen since most of them were easily covered by a long sleeve shirt. He pulled his own sweatshirt over his head, and you had a hard time not taking a second to appreciate just how good his torso looked in a simple grey tee.

“Jesus, you two, just get to it.”

The look you shot Nat was pure poison. You weren’t sure what her game was, but you’d be sure to break out the vodka later tonight and get it out of her.

You squared up with the captain, keeping a loose stance on the balls of your feet while he brought up his fists and shrugged his shoulders.

His first strike seemed sluggish, and you slapped it aside easily, frowning at him. He shuffled forward, throwing a few more jabs that you also dodged. Was he holding back on you?

The next few shots he tried to take all but confirmed it; he was pulling his punches. You ducked around them easily, starting to get frustrated. You stepped inside his reach and delivered three quick strikes to his abdomen, followed by an open-handed push to the center of his chest, causing him to take two steps backwards.

His eyes narrowed at you. He was just hoping to get Nat and Buck off his back. Nat had been trying to get him to interact with you for months, but there was something about you that set off warning bells in his head. He trusted Nat and Nat trusted you, which should have been good enough, but he couldn’t get over the thought that there was something dangerous about you that he couldn’t figure out. He’d hoped that a quick spar would appease Nat and get whatever was bugging him about you out of his system, but he had expected you to be on Nat’s level of physicality. The contemptuous way you slapped his blows aside, and the way you got under his guard fast, only made him more wary.

You saw him adjust his stance and tucked in his arms, and gave him a small smirk as you stepped back and raised your fists again.

He moved forward quickly this time, throwing a quick combo of punches aimed at your head and torso and trying to get his arms around you for a hold. You still dodged his strikes easily and when he tried to put you in a hold, you delivered a swift knee to the juncture of his waist on his left side, dancing back again.

His long hair had fallen into is eyes at this point, and when he straightened back up, the look of appraisal he gave was laced with frustration.

Your breathing was still even and relaxed, and Nat had been right, you hadn’t broken a sweat at all in the past 45 minutes. You loosely rolled one tattooed shoulder and gave him a grin, practically begging him to try again.

He clenched his jaw and rushed you. You kept dodging his blows or batting them aside but when he brought his foot around suddenly you moved a little too slow and felt it glance off your cheekbone. He took advantage of your brief surprise and moved behind you whip fast, wrapping one arm around your neck as he braced the other around your right shoulder and he tried to force you to the ground. You sprung your legs off the mat, raising them above your waist before swinging them back down as you got your left hand behind his head and grabbed the back of his tee, then used your momentum to fling him over your shoulders and toss him 15 feet across the room.

He shot up fast and turned back to with a look of complete shock on his face as he crouched into a protective stance. He stared at you like that for a beat before clenching his jaw and straightening up, rolling his head to right.

You followed his line of sight, perplexed. Bucky had jolted off of the wall and looked ready for a fight, flicking his gaze between you and Rogers. Wanda was staring at you with surprise, but was still relaxed. Vis looked at everyone around the room in confusion, trying to understand where the sudden tension had come from. The only person who seemed unfazed by what happened was Nat, all doe eyed innocence as she sipped her drink, not making eye contact with you or Rogers.

Poor Sam chose this moment to wander in. “Hey, Y/N, I heard it’s your b-day. You ready for me to drink you under… What happened?”

“Fuck’s sake Nat, you didn’t tell them.” You hissed at her.

“It didn’t really seem important, Y/N. Besides, it’s your secret.”

“Not a secret Nat. Jesus.”

“Someone want to tell me what the fuck I missed?” Sam was still flicking his gaze around the room, trying to figure out what was happening.

“Y/N just threw Steve across the room like a ragdoll.” Bucky said.

“Oh, word? Interesting.” Sam said.

“Someone want to explain this situation to me, slowly?” Rogers was looking murderously between you and Nat, and you honestly could have killed her yourself.

“Oh, did everyone not know about Y/N’s brain implants?”

All of you looked at Vision when he piped up, and he got a grin on his face like he had just solved an especially difficult puzzle.

“Baby, I think it’s safe to say only you and Nat knew.” Wanda whispered to him.

“But wasn’t that why we came here? Y/N has been hiding from multiple governments for years and her expertise has been very helpful in shielding us from both the United Nations and Stark industries.”

“Yeah, honey, just assume that you’re the only one who knows what you’re talking about.” Wanda said exasperatedly.

“Oh, well then, Y/N was part of an experimental program run by HYDRA under the guise of SHIELD during the 1990s where adolescents received brain implants designed by Dr. Emil Zola to increase sensory perception, decrease pain receptors, and specifically, maximize the efficiency of fast twitch muscle fibers via the phosphagen system, allowing use of these muscles for longer periods of time without negative effects. This was of course after multiple failed trials with a new super soldier serum.

“The program’s graduates were deployed at the beginning of the second Gulf War, purportedly to hunt terrorists, but were also used as HYDRA’s own assassination squad in the eastern hemisphere. The program was discontinued at the end of 2007 and it was thought that all the graduates were culled, but Y/N simply disappeared on mission at the Wakandan border. I admit, I was a bit surprised when she greeted us as she’s presumed dead by most intelligence agencies, but I thought her history was the reason we chose this location. Did I miss anything?” Vis looked at you with genuine interest.

“No that’s pretty much it, thanks.” You said flatly, running a hand over your face.

“See, not that big of a deal.” Nat shrugged.

“Well, Vis and I are going to head to bed.” Wanda chirped up, looking nervously between you, Nat, and the two super soldiers who were now staring at you again. She ushered Vision out of the room quickly and shushed him as he tried to ask if he had done something wrong.

“You really didn’t think this is something I might have wanted to know Nat?” Steve had now turned his attention back to your friend, murder written all over his face.

“No, Steve. Like I said, this is Y/N’s business and it changes literally nothing about how much I trust her. I can’t help it that you got your panties in a bunch over some perceived threat when I told you over and over again that I would willingly put my life in her hands in any situation.”

“You should have told them Nat.” You shook your head at her. She was still playing some sort of game, you could tell, but you didn’t know what.

“Ok, fine, I’m sorry. I just didn’t think you wanted the drama, or to have Barnes look at you like some little lost lamb.”

“Aw geez, Buck, stop looking at me like that or I’m going to punch you. I’m fine.”

“Ahm, sorry.” Bucky’s look of overwhelming sympathy would have been heartbreaking if it had been directed at anybody but you, and you really couldn’t handle that right now. “I’m here to talk if you ever need it.”

“Thanks, Barnes.”

“Besides, you and Steve are both in desperate need of a good fuck, and I thought an impromptu discovery like this would give you the push you need.”

And there it was.

“Well, I’m going to have to make it a rain check on those birthday drinks Y/N, look at the time, it’s… 6 PM. Let’s go Barnes.” Sam was now looking everywhere except at you and Rogers as he did his best to drag Bucky, who was doubled over crying with laughter, out of the gym.

You and Steve glared at Nat as she just sat there grinning, looking overly pleased with herself. A flush was creeping up Rogers neck as his fists tightened and loosened. You could see his jaw clenching under his beard and the tendons on his neck stand out in a look of absolute fury.

“You are such a meddling bitch, Romanoff.” You growled at her. Sure, it had been a while, but you were plenty capable of taking care of yourself, which you had told her after she plied you with three bottles of good Russian vodka.

“Yep.” She hopped off her stool and tossed her ice pack into the freezer. “I’m gonna leave you two to it. Talk, fight, fuck, do something. Your sexual tension is bringing down the vibe.”

She easily dodged the kettle bell you lobbed at her head with a laugh as she scurried out of the gym, closing the door behind her.

After about a minute of uncomfortable silence, you and Rogers turned back to each other. His face was no longer bright red as he looked at you, but you noticed something new in his gaze. His pupils were dilated as he peered at you through the hair that had fallen into his eyes. His breathing was deeper as he stepped closer and looked down at you. You were quite a bit taller than Nat, but still only came up to his eyes. He had moved his gaze to your chest, which was rising and falling in a slightly faster rhythm as he took you in, before moving it to your lips, then back up to your eyes.

“Wanna talk?” he asked.

“Nope.”

“Fight?”

“OK.”

You both took several steps back, retreating to your corners. Some unspoken agreement passed between you and Steve ripped off his t-shirt and sweatpants, until he was down to only his boxer briefs. You removed your sweats as well until you stood there in your sports bra and boy shorts. Neither of you examined whether you were doing this to increase your range of motion or for some other, hungrier reason.

You gazed at each other for a beat, drinking each other in. Steve rolled his broad shoulders and neck, bending from side to side briefly as you watched the muscles in his abdomen tighten and relax as he stretched. You reached your arms over your head before folding yourself over to wrap your arms around the backs of your thighs, twisting yourself to loosen your back muscles and feeling his eyes on you the whole time.

After straightening back up, you each gave each other a swift nod then rushed forward wordlessly.

You managed to gain the upper hand first when you vaulted over him as he dove at you, wrapping one arm around his throat as you carried your momentum and brought him to the ground, coiling your legs around his torso like a snake and stretching his right arm out with yours, pinning it in place.

He reached his left arm over his shoulder and punched you in the face.

You let go of him with a grunt and rolled up quickly, but he was able to get behind you and grabbed your left wrist with his right hand, hauling you over his shoulder while his left arm wrapped around your thigh and he drove you backwards into the mat, knocking the air out of your lungs before rolling over to try to pin you.

You got one leg between the two of you and drove your foot into the center of his chest, sending him flying across the room to crash into the free weights. You didn’t give him a chance to recover before charging back into him driving a fist into first his ribs, then his hip and causing him to buckle over before you wrapped one knee around his chest and rolled forward, slamming him into the ground so hard the floor cracked as you went to straddle him.

He caught your knee and carried you into a kneeling position before throwing you into the sandbags with enough force to knock one loose. You landed heavily and grabbed a kettle bell, whipping at him. He barely dodged it as he covered his head and it glanced off his forearm, giving you enough time to rush forward.

He caught you in the center of the mat and twisted you over him until you were pinned; one of your wrists in each of his hands above your head, legs wrapped around your thighs forcing them apart as he pressed his whole body weight into you.

You stopped struggling finally and stared up at him. You both were breathing heavily and covered in sweat. Steve’s hair was falling into his eyes, which were now lust blown as he stared at your lips. You could feel the muscles in his torso twitching against you as he held you in place.

He suddenly released your wrists without a word, and brought one hand behind your head to pull your mouth to his hungrily. His tongue ran along your lower lip and you opened yourself up to him, sighing into his mouth.

His other hand worked its way down your back as his legs loosened their hold on yours and he pressed your hips into his. You felt him start to grind his hardened cock into your mound and let out a low moan. He growled into your lips before releasing your head and started to kiss and bite his way down your neck, drawing soft whimpers from you as he did.

When he reached the tops of your breasts he pulled away from you suddenly to skim one hand up your abdomen before hooking three fingers under the edge of your sports bra and slowly drawing it over your head, eyes boring into yours as he did so. Once his obstacle had been removed, he nuzzled his face into the valley between your tits before gently sucking a bruise there as his beard scratched against your skin. He then moved his mouth to first your right nipple, then your left; rolling them between his teeth and tongue as you pressed your chest further into his face with a gasp.

He continued his downward journey, dipping his tongue into your navel before he reached the top of your shorts. He slowly drew them down your thighs and off until you were laying underneath him, fully bare and wanton, your cunt clenching around nothing as he stared up at you, resting his chin on your lower abdomen as his eyes asked you a silent question and you nodded, almost imperceptibly.

He drew your knees over his shoulders and pulled you down until his beard was flush against your mound. He nuzzled into the soft hair there before kissing the inside of your thighs slowly, his beard scratching the soft skin there as he gently ran the edge of his teeth up to your juncture then back down at an agonizingly slow pace. When you felt him breathe against your entrance, you wrapped one hand in his hair and moaned, and when his tongue found your clit you screamed and arched your back into him.

His tongue slowly circled your clit as he brought up his right hand and brushed his pointer and middle fingers through your arousal slowly, before inserting one finger into your pussy at a deliciously slow pace. You felt him smile against you as you moaned, wrapping your thighs around his neck as he moved in and out, curling his finger against that soft, spongy spot over and over again before adding another finger.

His tongue had stopped drawing it’s slow circles and was now pressing and releasing against you at faster intervals, causing your breath to hitch in your chest as you writhed against his face. He held a third finger at the edge of your entrance and when you pressed yourself into it, he inserted it into your canal, stretching you so good you let out a thin whine. He shook his head back and forth quickly but gently, adding a brand new sensation before he began to suck on your clit.

All the breath rushed out of you at once as you brought your second hand to press his head further into you. His fingers were fucking into you fast now and you felt the tension in your abdomen building as he alternated between sucking and licking at the small bundle of nerves. When he finally latched on, at the same time he curled all three fingers against your g-spot, you came apart around him, screaming his name as your thighs wrapped around his head like a vise as every muscle in your back tightened, thrusting your torso off the mat violently before you sank back down, relaxing as Steve helped you ride it out.

His name was the first thing either of you had said in almost 15 minutes, and he didn’t want to break the silence now. He was afraid if either of you spoke, you’d break the spell that seemed to have settled over you. Instead of saying anything, he gently pulled you down until you were straddling his waist, then nuzzled his face into the juncture between your neck and shoulder before resting his forehead on yours and staring into your eyes.

You looked back at him, blinking slowly as you moved your hands down to his hips and slipping your fingers under the edge of his boxer briefs. You slipped them over his hips slowly, and you felt his legs shifting in between yours as he moved himself to help you remove them, never breaking eye contact with you. You matched each other’s breathing as he shifted his hips and lined himself up at your entrance, his eyes giving you a pleading look. You shifted your hips closer to him, and he slowly breached you with his tip, closing his eyes as he did so and letting out a low moan from the back of his throat. He started thrusting into you slowly, trying not to collapse on top of you as he held himself back.

You brought your face up to his and slowly kissed him, gently drawing your tongue along the outside of his lips. The hand you didn’t have buried in his hair moved to his lower back and pressed him into you further, and you softly whispered against his mouth “Please…”

He let out a feral growl and settled his full weight on top of you as his hands moved from their supportive positions. One moved underneath you to hold you against him as he fucked into you fast, the other buried itself in your hair as he wrenched your head back and ran his teeth over your throat, nipping at the small hollow at its base. His hand on your back tilted your hips so each drive of his brought him flush against your clit, and you started breathlessly whimpering as he drove into you at a punishing speed.

Your second orgasm came almost without warning. You felt yourself flutter around him one moment when he suddenly tilted your hips just right and you were seeing stars, your body spasming as an uncontrollable wave of pleasure crashed over you repeatedly.

Steve still wasn’t finished though. He gave you a kiss like a starving man before pulling out of you suddenly. You groaned at the loss before he flipped you over fast and slammed back into you, causing you to let out a cry as his tip kissed your cervix.

He maneuvered you into the position he wanted quickly; one knee hooked over his leg and brought up close to your side with your other leg stretched behind you. He brought one arm underneath you to wrap a massive hand around your throat while the other tangled itself in your hair and drew your head back enough for him to kiss you hard, shoving his tongue down your throat as he continued to drive into you.

You had another orgasm almost immediately. Your pussy was fluttering and clenching like crazy as your body almost vibrated with pleasure. Steve still wasn’t slowing down and you were having so much trouble catching your breath you were worried you were going to pass out. You couldn’t stop driving your hips back into him though, matching his pace and feeling the tension in your core begin to gather again. You rolled your eyes back in your head and let out a thin whimper as you moved a hand between your thighs, trying to gain some sort of control over your own pleasure before your brain short-circuited.

Steve ripped your fingers from your throbbing clit with a growl and replaced them with his own, drawing harsh circles around the overstimulated bundle as you gasped and whimpered. He moved the hand he had at your throat to cup your chin, and tugged at your bottom lip with his thumb. You opened your mouth to gently nip at the rough pad as you felt his hips start to stutter, and he when he bit into your shoulder harshly you let out a scream and came apart violently, shaking underneath him uncontrollably.

His own release was right behind yours, and you felt his hot spend coating your insides as you fluttered around him and he wordlessly roared into your ear. He collapsed on top of you, burying his face in your neck and breathing deeply as he moved his hand from your face to softly cup your breast, lazily rolling one nipple in between his fingers and you came down from your respective highs.

You felt him softening inside you as you started to untangle yourselves. He slowly pulled out and you let out a small sigh at the loss of him. You heard him groan as he caught the sight of his cum slowly leaking out of your swollen cunt, and he left a slow trail of kisses down your spine before gently turning you over.

You wrapped one hand around the back of his neck and pulled your face up to his, kissing him deeply as your other hand trailed through the hair on his chest before coming to rest on his abdomen. He rested his forehead against yours again as you both got your breathing under control, before he broke out in an absolutely sinful grin.

You both started laughing then, the previous tension completely broken as you buried your face in his neck and he held you close to him, shaking with laughter.

“Oh my god, I really did need a good fuck.” You said breathlessly, tears leaking down your cheeks.

“Yeah, well I’d say we shouldn’t give Nat the satisfaction of knowing she’s right but I doubt she wasn’t listening in this whole time.”

“Jesus, of course she was. She’ll never stop meddling now.”

He grunted in agreement before giving you a brief kiss to the top of your head, then you separated yourselves to stumble around and locate your clothes.

The gym was an absolute wreck. Aside from the crack in the floor, the weight racks had fallen over in a domino effect after you had kicked Steve into one and two of the sandbags were leaking everywhere.

You were both covered in bruises from the sparring session and the stiffness you always felt after overexertion seemed to have multiplied tenfold as you struggled to pull your sweats back on, groaning at how tight your muscles were. Steve seemed to be feeling it as well as he let out a hiss through his teeth when he pulled his sweatshirt back over his head.

Once you were both dressed, he stalked over to you like a cat and wrapped his arms around your waist and pulling you in for one more kiss.

“Guess we should go face the rest of them.” He said, resigned.

You groaned as he dragged you out of the gym, hand in hand, to endure what you were sure was going to be a chorus of cat calls and innuendos, but when the two of you arrived in the living area, it was just Nat curled up on the sofa, giving the two of you a satisfied smirk.

“Where is everyone?” You asked her, looking around to see if maybe they had moved into the kitchen.

Nat threw back her head and laughed. “Oh they all ran out into the snow once you two really got started. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone look as embarrassed as Bucky did in my entire life. He forgot his shoes.” She was crying with laughter.

“Outside, Nat, it’s freezing out there!” The sun had already gone down with how late in the year it was and once that happened, the temperature would drop severely.

“I told them but they couldn’t handle it. Bunch of prudes.”

“Yeah, while you sat here and listened, you pervert.” You and Steve started pulling on boots and coats to head out after them.

“I’m the pervert! While you two had the world’s loudest fuckfest less than 20 feet away from the rest of your housemates, hey!” You had thrown her coat at her face and she caught it to shrug around her shoulders. “They probably had to go out five miles before they weren’t able to hear you.”

Steve growled at her as he ripped the front door open and headed out with you on his heels.

“Oh, you’re welcome by the way! It sure would be nice to get some appreciation for your birthday gift, Y/N… shit.”

Steve had lobbed a snowball the size of a golden retriever at her that she barely dodged at the last minute, cursing under her breath.

Steve wrapped an arm around you as you headed out into the fields to find your poor housemates and apologize, nuzzling himself into your hair with a grin. “Happy birthday.” He murmured to you, giving you a quick kiss before ruining the moment by bellowing “Barnes, get your dumbass back here, you forgot your boots!”

You grinned at him, looking up at the sky where the borealis had started and thinking that maybe birthdays weren’t so bad after all.

[heyyylittlemo]

Small details in 19 Days that keep me up at night

((That I feel rarely gets talked about))

-Mo Guan Shan & The Zodiac Magazine

This chapter was pretty early on in 19days—So that must mean Mo Guan Shan has done this a lot more since, right??😳 and he didn’t even rlly know HT that well at this point so...he must be in heat on the low for HT by now 🥵🥵

So it canonically confirms at least a base physical attraction from the start—and c’mon if this isn’t the most relatable thing ever. Soon as I get an attraction to someone I’m a bit piqued to find out their zodiac. Mo Guan Shan’s hidden curiosity for HT is lwk so cute.

It def suggests that MGS has an under the surface lvl (where he can’t even detect it) pull to understand and get closer to HT.

Mo Guan Shan dreaming of He Tian

I know it was passed off like a “joke” and a “nightmare” but cmon this gay as hawlll

Who DOESN’T dream of their crush?? Dreams usually are about things we heavily think about and/or what we thought about before bed—and I can’t help but to think OX was onto smth

Not to mention, this has high bottom-denial energy. Literally. Like he was soooo trying to avoid getting a shot at the docs bc it was in his ass, why??? Like sir...ur fragile masculinity that was created from ur inner homophobia towards ur own bottom reality was def crashing at that second

N Why he got pain in his tushy??? In this dream?? N ppl bullying him like that abt it lmaoo who irl be saying those things?? Things like “aren’t in the guy who got a shot in ur ass” and “haha I’d like to see you with ur ass in the air~” even tho the translation and the way it was written can be said to mean that these bullies are literally finding it funny that his ass was in the air I have a feeling it was censored and rephrased to hint at its actual implications,, I feel like these guys were actually trying to jokingly solicit Mo in gay acts thru him bottoming—in reaction to the needle butt-scenario. I feel like OX wants us to read between the lines.

And if you see it that way, it really makes it seem like Mo is having a sexuality crisis here. And I think it’s what OX was building up to around that time bcuz it was around after the kiss happened.

It rlly makes me believe MGS genuinely thinks getting a shot in his ass will somehow societally and with unspoken words “expose” him and miraculously express to others that he likes it up the ass—bcuz u cannot tell me that dream and what those bullies were saying weren’t his damn paranoia demons talking

I think a dream interpreter could stretch it enough to say that the bullies are a metaphor of his own insecurities towards his homosexuality and particularly towards his upcoming bottoming feelings. Like he’s legit scared of a hospital needle in his butt—this is not straight behavior. And then we have He Tian to the rescue—(and do you see his look and his flirtatious line) and omg he’s gripping the shit out of his ass in the dream. He’s both being bullied for his bottom-ness and guilty-pleasure getting one rubbed out by He Tian. Like ok, have ur cake and eat it then bitch.

Mo Guan Shan Staring at He Tian

This was a moment leading up to the kiss. MGS was staring (probably admiring while also judging and heating up over HT) He Tian while he was playing BSKTBall—and As a BL writer myself can’t help but to think HT noticed MGS very not-straightly stare at him with a sort of sexual attraction he had towards him on the field.

Like cmon?? I doubt OX writes lines like these for no reason.

I feel like...at least irl...The eyes usually give it away if someone is interested in you or not. you can always see if someone is checking you out and noticing you in a different light like it just has different vibe and feel to it. OX was def trying to show and not tell with this panel that MGS has noticed HT and stares at him in the way we all hope he does. We don’t really get to see and (and I guess it keeps us on our toes and keeps us wondering if the little redhead could actually be falling for HT)—so it’s very subtle, but it is there, and once you notice it you’re like d a m n this makes the kiss scene so much more hopeful (at least for me).

I think this was the push that gave HT hopes to kiss MGS in the first place and it gets overlooked. How do you think HT own curiosity peeked? I think as a community we often think abt Mo and how he developed feelings or will develop feelings for HT but rarely do we ever questions The Who what when where and how He Tian came to like Mo himself. I have my own feelings about them that I can’t explain in this post, least it gets off-topic, but I think it’s very important.

I think his comment “Do I really disgust you that much” makes more sense in this context, of MGS giving HT some reassurance through non-verbal ques. HT was already under the impression that MGS was egging him on with his staring so it can warrant some of He Tian’s confusion. HT probably is pursuing MGS bc he probably senses some lvl of homosexual tension from Mo, and it’s exciting to him. Not only that, but MGS is exciting in his character. So I think HT was also relatively new to this venture and kinda spontaneously kissed Mo out of his own curioustes to explore their attractions and to get a grasp of what Mo was feeling.

It also makes me think HT and MGS experienced some undeniable pleasure or unspoken moment that could not be denied within the kiss as attraction and when MGS then decided to go agaisnt that with violence it only further hit HT, who knew MGS was lying to himself. I mean, it’s a classic BL moment. The two kiss, obviously feel smth (probably couldn’t show much of that due to censorship so had to pass it along as a 100% unsatisfactory exchange) and then one, feeling too much all at once and isn’t comfortable with their confirmed suspensions abt their sexuality—denies everything to the other causing further tensions especially sense both know how eachother really feel despite the others denial. And then the rejected one downplays the kiss’ seriousness to soothe their ego knowing full well the kiss meant smth. So they both internalize what the other said and both feel rejected, but both actually liked it. It’s a classic.

I truly feel that if it wasn’t due to censorship, that the kissing scene would’ve looked a lot more consensual than so forceful and wrong. Like it would’ve been taken as an tension filled “experimentation” that we see a lot in BLs and it only further ties into why MGS would be so bashful whenever the kiss is mentioned, and why HT can use it As a leverage over Mo (“don’t make me kiss you again”) bcuz it brings them back to thy moment where HT experienced some “answer” between Mo and that answer was fulfilling even tho it cannot be fulfilled and probably HT is hoping that maybe one day if he teases him enough about it they can share another kiss one that is a lot less rushed and now that they are closer, will lead to a better result.

Anyways those are my speculations. And I actually have written a short story based on these assumptions(focused on the kiss—and it’s also leading up to a jealously fic) but ofc I haven’t written it in ahwile haha. Just thought it was worth sharing since I noticed 19 days has been updating pretty “eh” lately.

[miizpah]

mine | sakusa kiyoomi

anon asks : listen to this!!! being sakusa bimbo wife, ur so fucking beautiful that whenever ur both at social events for vball, there’s always someone coming up and hitting on u. mr sakusa doesn’t like that ::))) and he can’t wait to get home to punish his wife silly and leave marks that will defo show everyone that she’s taken :):):):)

post timeskip ‼️

tw. degrading, consensual roughhousing, a bit of manipulation.

author note : i am simp for sakusa !! this ask for me hyperventilating into orbit. girl, y/n a little too brave in this one, like miss girl gon ahead and sit down we all know who dom here. and not how there’s only a small part of smut in this, yo, i’m sorry it’s not longer but my motivation for this fic went whoosh. and not me being in the middle of changing up my theme 🙄 and struggling at that.

“Omi-”

One second you had been nodding along to a conversation being held by one of the team’s older PRs, the next second you were being guided away by your husband’s tight grip, your wrist exploding in dull pain as all you could do was follow after him. Praying you don’t trip over your satin gown.

You didn’t understand what exactly caused him to snap, he was always respectful and polite when attending events such as these. They were public appearances the entirety of MSBY had to attend, and he was already tittering on the edge becuase of the sheer number of people and crowds. But, he’d never left an event early, and he never blatantly disrespectful to a staff on his team.

The underground parking lot was empty as you both entered, in search for his car. “How dare you let his filthy hands touch you?”

It made sense then, your mind wandering back to the entire conversation. You had been sipping on a glass of wine with Atsumu and Shouyo by your sides, since Kiyoomi tended to stay away from the crowds, you were the one who would mingle around in his stead. Atsumu had promised to keep an eye on you, like always, and by extension, Shouyo gladly tagged along.

Now, you began to understand the glare Atsumu was giving the PR, and the worried looks Shouyo casted over his shoulders. Now, it made complete and total sense. The man had been flirting with you. You hadn’t notice, your mind was a bit clogged up with Kiyoomi and the way his suit fit him too perfectly, you hadn’t even noticed when he had touched your shoulder.

You barely had enough time to register your surroundings before your harshly pressed against his sleek black car, his hand around your throat and his eyes dangerous. The mere look sent bouts of pleasure and fear coiling around your body, and you only tighten your thighs around the knee pressed between you.

“Omi, you’re hurting me,” You whimper softly, pathetically, tears prickling at your eyes.

“I asked you a question, dumb bitch. I expect an answer.” He spat, eyes glaring angrily into yours. His grip tighten a bit, just enough to tease your airway.

“I’m sorry, Omi! I didn’t realize it, I promise!” You cry, hands coming up and grabbing at his arm. He didn’t move for a moment, eyes boring into your watery ones.

He sighed under his mask, loosen his grip. “Hm, you’re right, my little wife never realizes it.” His hand removes from your throat and cards through your hair softly, he kisses your forehead through his mask. “This is why I have to protect you, too dumb and pretty for your own good. You know that, right?”

“Only for you, Omi.” You mutter, wet eyes staring up at him with a doe like express. “Only pretty and dumb for you.”

He smirked, though unseen. “Yes, you are. Come, let’s get you into the car.”

“Ack! Eight, ‘m sorry Omi.” You whimper, trying to keep as still as possible as Kiyoomi rubs almost lovingly at your burning ass cheek. If you’d thought you were getting away for being a little dumb bitch and not noticing that filthy man’s hand on you, you were wrong. Kiyoomi was clear when it came to you, his beautiful ditzy wife, that no one was allowed to touch you. Not unless he’s permitted it.

“N-Nine! ‘m sorry Omi,” your hands clench the bedsheets in a tight grip, eyes squeezing close as the harsh pain spread around your bottom.

“Ah! Ten, ‘m sorry Omi.” You cried out, happy to finally be done with this punishment. You just wanted to shower, take off your makeup, comb through your hair, and sleep. But the moment you both had entered the house, he’d chased you down the hallway and sprayed you over his knees, bunching your expensive satin dress up to your waist and dealt his punishment.

You stood then, dress falling around your bare ass and legs. You couldn’t walk away, not when Kiyoomi’s large hand yanked you forward. “Did I tell you to stand, hm?”

“I wanna shower,” you whine, trying to pull your arm free. But, he only rose a brow at you. The way he looked at you, as if he knew that you didn’t want to shower, sparked a small amount of anger in your veins. And as a serious as you could, you shot him a nasty glare. “Let me go, Kiyoomi. I want to shower.”

“Watch your tone, angel.”

“Not unless you let me go.”

“Oh? Baby trying to argue?”

You huff in annoyance, trying to yanking your arm his tight grip. “Let me go, Sakusa!” You yell angrily, arm finally breaking free and you walked away then, mumbling angrily to yourself.

If there was one thing you’ve never learned when being with Kiyoomi, is to never turn your back on him when fighting. Not only is he going to get angry, but it will lead to some pretty hard fucking, and your ability to walk tomorrow is gone. But, you never learn, you’re a bit dumb, it’s okay. You both get what you want in the end.

You didn’t have enough time to prepare yourself before you find yourself against the bedroom wall, his large hand entangled in your hair, exposing your neck to the wall. “Who do you think you’re talking too, Y/N?”

“I’m talking to Sakusa Kiyoomi, who else?” Brave? No. Smart mouthing? Yes. Is that a good idea? No. Ten out ten would recommend if you’re looking for good sex. But, right now, you were not looking for good sex, right now, you wanted to shower, you wanted to sleep.

“Your mouth is going to get you into some trouble, baby.” His breath was warm against your ear, and you struggled to hold in the shiver of pleasure. “I’m going to ask you again, and you better answer me correctly. Who do you think you’re talking to?”

You swallow, eyes flickering up and meeting his. The defiance in your eyes were clear. “You.”

He chuckled, “my silly little wife.” He backed away, turning you around then. “I can see that you’re not in the playing mood, right now.”

You stare at him in momentary confusion, this was a new reaction. “W-what?”

He looked at you, “what?”

“But, s-sex?”

“You want to shower, no?”

Yes, you wanted to shower. You wanted sleep. Not sex. That’s what your brain wanted of course, your body wanted Kiyoomi. “No...?”

“No?” His smirk widen almost cruelly. “Too bad, I’m not fucking you after that disgusting man touched you.”

“Omi?!”

“What happened to Sakusa?”

“I-I... No, touch me, please!”

He shook his head, backing away and sitting on the bed. “Sorry, I’m not touching you until you shower.”

Why were you complaining? You wanted this. You wanted to shower, not have sex. Why were you practically begging him to fuck you?

Huffing, you nod firmly. “Fine, I’m showering. And we’re not having sex for a month!”

“Ditzy wife.”

“Two months!”

Obviously, Kiyoomi was a man that knew how to get his way. It always his way or the highway. That had been the biggest deal breaker when you first met the man. He was too... much for you. Too clean, too big, and too mean for someone like you. Admittedly, you weren’t the smartest person in the word, you passed high school but wasn’t smart enough to get into college, but that was okay.

Your mother always said that you should be grateful that you were beautiful, you could find yourself a rich man and be taken cared of. That had been exactly what you did, you ound a man, who was rich, who was handsome, and you thought yourself clever enough to play him. You had been wrong. God, he was mean, so mean, and cruel, but he had emotions, and it was rare to see them, but they were there, and he was taking care of you.

It didn’t take long for you to actually fall in love with the man. And him, loving you. Your family hated him, though. He was a famous, professional athletic. Your parents didn’t believe that to be a good enough job. Your mother wanted you to find a rich, old ceo old to marry, cause lord knows you’ll only ever work at a restaurant or club if you had to fend for yourself, that way when he died, and everything was left in your name, you would be rich, and a ceo.

Even you knew it didn’t work that way. You didn’t care that they didn’t like Kiyoomi, you loved him, and he accepted you, as you accepted him, and that was all that mattered.

But, as you said. Kiyoomi was a man who knew how to get what he wanted.

And, right now, he wanted his dumb little wife folded in a mating press as he fucked into you mercilessly. Your mouth stuffed with his fingers, and your legs shaking as the pleasure rack through your body.

Your moans were muffled, and Kiyoomi stared at you in amusement and lust. “My ditzy wife looks so pretty with my fingers done your throat, and your cunt stuffed full of my cock.” He pushed his fingers down further, and you choke, hands gripping at his biceps in a death grip.

He pulled his fingers away, holding your mouth open before leaning down and spitting directly inside your mouth. “Hold it there, whore. You swallow and you’ll get punished.”

His arms formed pillars around you, his cock dragging against your gummy, fluttering walls in quick strokes. “You’re mine, my wife, my whore. No one else’s, you hear me?” You could only nod, eyes fluttering close. “No one is allowed to touch you, fuck your messy little holes but me, got it?” Your moan is muffled.

“Swallow,” he demanded, and you did as told, swallowing and opening your mouth so he could see. “Good girl,” he hummed, quickening his pace.

Your body was covered in marks, ones that had did the moment he jumped into the shower with you. He left them on your neck, your breasts, your tummy, and thighs, he’d even bitten into your wrist. He didn’t plan to stop until all of your limbs had at least two marks on them.

“Ah, ah, ah, ah!” You moan, hands moving to his back and nails scratching shallowly at his skin. “Omi!” With each thrust, you could feel your stomach tightening and your walls fluttering. The pleasure coursed throughout your body rapidly, his warm breath against your cheek causing shivers.

“C-cumming!” You announce sharply, nails digging into his back as your thighs tense. “P-pull out, I’ll make — ngh! — make a mess!”

Kiyoomi didn’t listen, leaning back and hooking his hands underneath your thighs. His eyes zeroed in on your sopping cunt, watching the way you stretch around him. Your warnings about making a mess went through one ear and out there other.

Your moans grew louder, head turning into the pillows to muffle them. You try to close your legs, anything to minimize the forthcoming of your squirting release. But, Kiyoomi’s hand were strong and he held your legs open as you release over him.

Immediately, you feel a sense of dread forcing your high away. Your mouth formed the words, but your throat gave away when a hard pressure was placed there. Opening your eyes, you were met with Kiyoomi’s dark ones, looking at you as if you were the best damn meal he’d ever had.

He pressed a kiss to your cheek, then your lips before uttering, “keep still, angel, I’m doing this again.”

note — i hate this, i hate this, i hate this, i hate this. i’m literally in the middle of trying to change my theme and writing style and i’m throwing up?? pls, anon, don’t hate me, i tried with this. it’s not a long piece of smut bc i didn’t know if u wanted it, :(

[thatdiabolicalfeminist]

I suspect I have ME/CFS but I'm not clinically diagnosed, and idk how I would even get diagnosed, but do you have any tips for beds or comfort? Do you have any comfort tips for someone who doesn't want to be in bed but fatigues early/easily?

So it's actually pretty important to figure out whether what you're ill with is actually ME/CFS or an illness with similar symptoms. Things that are good for ME patients can make people with similar chronic illnesses worse, and vice versa, and if you have something different to ME (or in addition to it) it may require medical treatment, either to make you feel better or to stop or slow serious damage.

If you have access to a rheumatologist, they should be able to run tests that can rule out lupus and rheumatoid arthritis, and they may be able to evaluate you for fibromyalgia as well. They'd likely run panels to check your blood counts and rule out vitamin deficiencies that can cause things from fatigue to neurological damage.

These are good things to do even if you're 100% sure you have M.E., because some of this stuff is commonly comorbid. (Oh, and if you have M.E. you might wanna get checked out for the most common comorbidities, like POTS or fibro or hEDS or IBS, to see if you can limit the strain your body's experiencing. Treat any comorbid migraines, etc.)

Check out the international consensus criteria to verify for yourself if you have M.E. Your GP may be willing to diagnose you if that's something you need or want to pursue - my original diagnosis was from a family doctor. A rheumatologist is better though, because they'll understand autoimmune stuff and know what to rule out. My rheumatologist caught ME symptoms I hadn't even noticed before.

In general though, being an ME patient means doing a lot of your own research. Doctors frequently know very little and only some are willing to read up on it. Don't let anyone try to sell you on graded exercise therapy - research shows it makes ME patients sicker, but some doctors recommend it anyway since it's good for many illnesses with similar symptoms.

As for what you actually asked about -

I think what you need/want as far as comfortable beds etc is going to be very specific to your particular body.

My main advice is to pay attention and not let yourself dissociate from your body.

People with chronic pain and fatigue often ignore our own bodies most of the time to avoid feeling that pain and fatigue so much, and it means we can have a hard time knowing what helps or hurts.

Experiment and be deliberate about noticing what feels restful and what doesn't.

In bed, you might find that you want extra pillows to support different parts of your body - a knee pillow makes a huge difference for me, and a body pillow under the edge of my back when I lie on my side.

Outside of bed, sit often and sit comfortably. As much as possible. I have found that it's WAY more draining to let my legs dangle down than to pull them up and cross them, so I sit cross legged a lot. I also have a day bed in the dining area so I can lie down when I get tired without missing out on socializing, or without leaving the room when I'm cooking. I've found that a chair with a back is less tiring than a chair without one. I also have a wheeled stool in the kitchen so I can cook sitting down and move around the kitchen without walking. It’s a lifesaver.

If you're not already using a mobility aid, consider getting one. I tire way, way less quickly with my rollator than I do with my cane, and I tire way less quickly with the cane than I do walking unsupported. (Also, some rollators and even some canes have convenient sitting when you're out and about!)

A cheap hand-propelled wheelchair doesn't save me energy unless someone else can push, but fancier ones are much easier to move, and motorized ones are least draining of all.

But honestly a $10 cane can be a lifesaver all on its own, even if you only use it on big fatigue days or when no one else is around.

Pay attention to whether light or sound tires you out, and if it does, try to reduce light and sound in the area where you rest. Same with other sensory input that can be quietly fatiguing. You may want to limit this input even outside of rest, so you don't wear out as fast. Lastly, if you're pretty sure you do have M.E., read up on pacing. My rheumatologist gave me this very easy to understand, nicely packaged guide to pacing, complete with charts to help you keep track of your activity patterns and explanations for friends and family so they can understand enough to be supportive.

Pacing is the number one best thing you can do to protect your health if you have M.E. The less often you go into post exertional malaise, the more ability you will retain.

Sorry this is so long but I hope it helps!

[filthweb]

"What got you so wet lil sis?"- Bakugou Katsuki x sis!reader. (Minors, do not interact)

♡Requested by @baddie-cherry-bunny

Genre: Smut. | Wc: 1.2k

•Warnings: Incest, protected sex, development of feelings for your brother, consensual, possibility of incest relationship. I do not own the character. The character is aged up in this post.

•A/n: Read only if none of the things above trigger you. I write this on requests because several people love such contents. Please do not send hate. If that bothers you simply block me. I am new to tags so tell me if I forgot something in the warnings.

You felt like a lost soul. Despite having friends around you, none of them really understood your feelings. You felt maybe dating would end this loneliness but nope. Even if they were between your legs, you never really felt anything. But...don't know if that should be taken into consideration but your brother always supported you.

Bakugou was the only one by your side, no matter happened, he kept you closer to him. Protectiveness sometimes felt like a lot more although that never made you feel uncomfortable.

"No matter where you go, I will always protect you", his words stuck in your head whenever fear hit your soul. His soft kisses on cheeks started making you desperate for more. Don't know why?

_______________________________________

You put on your best dress, lipsticks onn, grabbed your slingbag and sandals as you head out for your valentine's date. You were adjusting the left one in your foot as Bakugou saw you. "Where to?", eyes on your the hem that ends near your thighs. Dress too revealing but not that he will say anything. "For date", you smiled at him. Don't know why but his face turned sad. Watching him like that, an uneasiness hit you. It's not anything unusual right? Then why there was an awkward silence between the two of you?

"Be careful", he placed a fake smile.

"I know. You will protect me anyways. Remember?", you headed out after he nodded.

_______________________________________

Your date's one hand was sliding up through your dress, while other was kneading your breasts. It's a real good feeling right? Then why were you feeling uncomfortable? Perhaps you were worrying about your brother. Why did he make a face like that? Why is he always so close to me? Why does he continues to support me even after I mess up?, the thoughts wandering in your head that you knew won't answer themselves.

It's pointless, ridiculous. I am literally making out with someone else. Why do I love you so much Katsuki?, your own realization shocked you.

"I have something important to do", you got up, arranged your dress and hair and headed back home.

_______________________________________

The doorlock clacked as Katsuki peeked over from the kitchen to see who it was. Unexpecting you to be so early.

"Y/n? Did they ditch you?", but the smudged lipstick on your lips said something else.

"Why do I feel like this? It isn't right. There has to be something wrong with me.", you sobbed

"Chill y/n, tell me what happened. Did they hurt you?", he speedily approached you, caught your left arm. He was so ready to kill someone who made you cry. Little did he know the reason was him.

"What did they do?"

"It's all your fault. Why are you so good to me?", he was confused now.

"W-what?"

"I AM IN LOVE WITH YOU KATSUKI", his eyes did perk up for a millisecond but then the reality hit him.

"T-that's...H-ho-how....wh-"

"I don't know. I feel the most comfortable with you. I want you to hold me. I hate when you go out with someone else. I hate that they are the one that get to touch you and not me. You don't know how much I want to be with you-", he pressed a kiss on you cutting you off.

"For god's sake, shut up little sister.", hands cupped your left cheek.

"This is wrong. We shouldn't be doing this.", he said but then why did he kiss you? That only made you more desperate.

"I clearly don't give a fuck about anything else.", you slapped away his hands, grabbing his lips hungrily. Why wasn't he resisting? Maybe because he felt the same all this time.

Hands somewhere in the air around your body, trembling, where it should be kneading your ass by now but it isn't, so you snatched his hands and placed them on your butt.

You bit his bottom lips which caused him to inhale all of you as hands clenched your ass tight. Now we're talking. Lips sliding to kiss his neck. Excuse me? Did you forget who's incharge? He grabbed you before you could try your tricks.

"Nah ah. Not so easy", tongue approached the visible cleavage and latched itself on them. You moaned. How he thought the dress might be too revealing for someone else but now was enjoying himself watching you in that.

"F-fuck me Katsuki", say no more. He threw you on his shoulders, carried you to the bedroom. He plopped you on the bed, starting to strip his t-shirt with the left hand while the other held your thighs.

Holy shit holy shit holy shit. Sure you saw his abs before but they never felt this hot.

He climbed up to you, licking and kissing your neck, whole big body towering you.

His hands slipped down, under your dress and fingers toyed with your wetness. Just some kisses and you were dripping with just that? He smirked against your shoulder blade.

"What got you so wet lil sis?"

"You Katsuki-", you flinched when he inserted his two digits in you. Your pussy clenching at the sudden sensation.

He moved them in and out, no mercy. But hey, he was just getting you ready. You could only imagine what was he like down there. Your mitts crept into his pants. You gasped in his mouth when it felt his thick girth.

"Excited, are we?", but how can you be surprised? This should be expected from your beefed big brother.

"I-I don't think that'll f-fit...Ah!".

"Well that's why I am getting you ready aren't I?", you squirmed, unwarned when he pushed the third finger inside you. You muffling while kissing and palming his cock.

_______________________________________

Katsuki teased your entrance with his condomed cockhead before pushing it in you. You moaned, the air knocked out of your chest. The stretch was too much. It was burning you making tears fall from your eyes. You didn't know it was gonna hurt more when he started moving.

Even so, there was something relishing about it. The way his hips touched your clit each time he rutted in you, his abs putting on a perfect view as you try to remain conscious.

_______________________________________

It's hard to keep up with his pace. A grin on his flushed face as he makes you cum for the nth time.

"K-katsuki-sssss....too much", you hissed as you felt another high approaching although he was close too.

Fingers gripped your hips as he proceeds to loose himself in you. Gut tightening as both your high approached. Katsuki pulled out and came on your stomach. You laid there sensing the warm liquid on your abdomen and yours between your legs.

Bakugou plopped beside you, both of you panting, calming yourselves down.

"That was......", you silenced trying to find words to fit the moment.

"Good? Amazing? Worthwhile?", he helped you search.

"I don't know. None of the words can describe how good it was. I f-elt like my mind was becoming hazy", he could only smirk at your compliment.

"Then next time, I'll make sure to fuck you so good that you pass out", cheeks flushed knowing that there will be a next time.

©All the written contents in this belongs to justahoeforhaikyuu 2021. Do not modify and repost.

[thefanficmonster]

Real Friends

Valkyrae & Reader (Male)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: SMAU, Platonic fluff, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Following an accidental and not very consensual face reveal, Y/N’s dealing the sudden shift of the spotlight on him even more than it was before. Being the big deal he is on social media, the internet has every right to be freaking out. Luckily, he’s got a friend to help him cope with it all.

Requested by @iawaythrown Hii! Thank you so much for your request! I’m so sorry for how long it has taken me to complete your request and post it but here it finally is. I’ve never written a SMAU before so this isn’t the classic SMAU format but I still hope you’ll enjoy it! Love, Vy ❤

Imagine you end a toxic relationship of almost a year and go to bed feeling like a ton of bricks has been lifted off you, like you can finally breathe properly and like you’re finally getting a taste of freedom. The very freedom you chose to lose by getting in the toxic relationship in the first place. Of course, I didn’t know it was toxic at the time, probably cause it wasn’t, but it gradually turned into a nightmare.

A nightmare that keeps haunting me even after I thought I had put an end to it.

Apparently, that was wishful thinking cause I woke up this morning to find an unbelievable number of notifications and messages from friends, family and my manager and associates. Being in the music industry as a faceless creator, I keep my circle tight and it only consists of people I can trust so to see them all freaking out at me at once, even the most level-headed ones, freaked me out too. Quickly, I opened the first notification I reflexively tapped on and it opened a post in which someone had tagged me.

A picture taken of me while I was asleep, no doubt one taken by my ex. That being said, I think we can all have a guess at who posted it in the first place. I didn’t listen to my manager when he told me to not allow anyone I trust 1000% into my inner circle. I was foolish and at the peak of my career, feeling on top of the world and feeling invincible which was rare for me. I’ve always been insecure about many things in my life, growing up with a lot of judgy people made me be that way. Not to mention that I didn’t want to be the victim of the internet’s racism either. People turn a blind eye most of the time, but it’s still there, it still exists and looms over all social media platforms, disturbing people’s peace left and right.  You see, I didn’t want people to have an opinion of my art based on my appearance or associations with other creators. I’m pretty good friends with many content creators, especially in the gaming industry, but I’ve never wanted to be put in a box as one of the many friends of someone famous. I made a name for myself without anyone knowing who I am exactly.

And now they all know because of this photo that my ex sent to float down the rivers of hungry social media:

Damn am I gonna get an earful from my manager or what. It’s still rater early though and I’m really not about to deal with this drama on a caffeine-free brain so if there are any calls, emails or messages that need answering - and yes, there are PLENTY of them - they’ll all have to wait until I feel like dealing with them. I’m glad I don’t have to keep up this unbothered charade at home since I live alone cause I seriously don’t feel ok with this. I mean, I could probably report it, but what use would that be when my brand now has a face and a huge chunk of my privacy has already surfaced against my will.

As I sit in my kitchen, sipping my coffee, I finally gather the nerve to at least scroll through the notifications that I’ve received. Fans reaching out, relatives, friends, pissed off people that are there just to exist and try to disturb my peaceful existence but all they’re gonna get is a hard DELETE from me. I have offers on top of offers for modeling pending, waiting on my response. I’ve never considered it, being a faceless creator and all, but my manager will definitely want to milk some cash from this too. That thought makes me sigh in defeat. I have no one to blame but myself for trusting my ex. No one made me do it, no one made me let them in, but I still did, fucking myself over insanely. Just like they’ve now fucked me over.

Amongst the sea of notifications and yet to be opened messages, one in particular stands out and makes me do a double take. It’s a message from my friend Rae - Valkyrae, as she’s known online. She’s one of those gamer friends I mentioned earlier, probably the one I’m closest with. Her and I talk on the regular so seeing a message from her in my inbox is nothing unusual so I wonder why that was the one that stuck out to me. Regardless, that’s the only one I feel like opening and replying to at the moment.

V ~ Hey Y/N, you doing ok? This all must be really hard on you so don’t feel obligated to reply. Do so when you can or want to. I’m here if you wanna talk

Of course Rae would be the one to know how I truly feel in a situation like this. I can act and cover up all I want but she knows exactly what’s underneath the surface of my façade. That third eye friends have for each other, it’s incredible.

Me ~ Doing ok. Wasn’t expecting to wake up to this but now that millions of people know what I look like it feels oddly bittersweet, you know? Like I don’t have to go out of my way to hide anymore but I’m also gonna miss that privacy I had while I was a phantom

Me ~ On the upside: people want me to be a model now XD

My message goes to Seen almost write away, the Typing icon appearing shortly after the messages were read. I wait for Rae’s reply, sipping my slowly cooling coffee with little interest due to how invested I am in our conversation. If there’s a person who can make light of this situation, it’s Rae, no doubt about it.

V ~ I know what you mean. It’s not gonna be easy to adjust to but you will get used to it eventually. I’m sure you’ll even grow to like it. Promise you, it’s not that scary to be exposed, there’s literal millions of people who support you wholeheartedly :) 

V ~ Us, your friends, are here too! Never forget that, we’ve always got your back, Y/N!

V ~ Oh and you really should be a model! Whoever’s saying that has got the right idea. Maybe don’t fear this new change, but embrace it! Take this new turn in your life confidently. Sure, it was out of the blue, but do you really want the person who exposed you to feel the satisfaction of bringing you down? That doesn’t sound like you at all tbh

The epiphany strikes me as soon as Rae’s words sink in as I read them. She’s 100% right. The last thing I want is for my ex to think they’ve won. I refuse to give them the pleasure of tasting victory on the expense of my mental health and career progress. In fact, imma show them just how much they benefited me. But first...

Me ~ Thank you so much, Rae. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for this eye-opener

Me ~ I owe you one <3

I sure as hell owe her one, but for now I have other battles to win.

Rifling through my gallery, I find one more recent picture and without a shred of doubt or hesitation, I go straight to Instagram to post it.

~ “Since y’all were curious...And since y’all wanna see me model, you’re welcome” ~

Within seconds likes and comments start flowing in like a riptide, taking over my phone that, despite being charged all night, is already at half of its battery life.

I refresh the page with the post to look at the new comments that have come through, all supportive and complimenting me, some are real thirsty and some are incredibly kind. And even in that sea, her comment still sticks out to me, making me grin like an idiot.

“That’s what I was talking about! Work it, Y/N!“

[alolanrain]

how old is ash on yours au’s?

It really really depends and I’m finding out that I’m absolutely horrible at actually giving out somewhat concrete ages, barring a few Au’s.

Unspokenly Ash is usually around late 20 to very early 22, unless I did write down and post an age for him in what ever Au has it, but thats also more drabble and fillet based. That is… basically my standard and I really need to vocalize that more from the content that I do write him as younger.

Basically how it goes is that with each region he ages up a year. Spending his birthday at home with his mom and the Oak’s that are present at the time before going off on another adventure. This gets kind of tricky around Sinnoh because Ash stay’s there to take on The Brain. I have that written down that it takes 3 month’s to even half a year. Which then put’s off the ‘sharing the birthday with mom and oak’ thing. This lands his birthday in the middle of his current journey at the time or a bit later like right before the league or a month before, if that makes sense. So in the end he comes home obviously older. Though I have been messing around and making the time in Orange Isles shorter to around 9 months instead of a full year.

Like here’s a time table and I’ll keep both set’s of ages if I do mess around with Orange Isles time line and add it as concrete. It gets really complicated so if you want a little more explanation please don’t be afraid to ask. I am also keeping the Brain Arc to half a year.

Starting age to finishing age *0/12 means how many months he is instead of a full year.

Kanto: 10 to 11

Orange Isles: 11 to 12 or 11 to 11 + 9/12

Johto: 12 to 13 or 11 + 9/12 to 12 + 9/12

Hoenn: 13 to 14 or 12 + 9/12 to 13 + 9/12

Sinnoh: 14 to 15 or 13 + 9/12 to 14 + 9/12

+ battling the Brain: 15 to 15 + 6/12 or 14 + 9/12 to 15 + 3/12

Unova: 15 + 6/12 to 16 + 6/12 or 15 + 3/12 to 16 + 3/12

Kalos: 16 + 6/12 to 17 + 6/12 or 16 + 3/12 to 17 + 3/12

Alola: 17 + 6/12 to 18 + 6/12 or 17 + 3/12 to 18 + 3/12

Galar: 18 + 6/12 to 19 + 6/12 or 18 + 3/12 to 19 + 3/12

I just want to say that typing all this out looks like one hell of a long ass math equation, kinda hate it and might change it later. But this is my completely basic format of what I use. Of course there’s a lot of wiggle room as I write Ash starting around 20 to 21 in Alola and Galar. He’s obviously going to probably spend more the one complete year in a region and less then another. The end of the league doesn’t dictate when he stays and leaves. Theres also the months that build up between each “arc”, another word I use to refer to his journeys, and to account the HC that some leagues start off at wildly different times then others.

It’s literally just a pick-and-pull basket and just a large general target where Ash would be ages wise. As you see in the end the two different age lists end up being only 3 months part from each other. It really doesn’t matter and I’m mostly just playing around with it. Another note thats… vital isn’t the correct word but I’m use it is that I don’t take Cerise Laboratory and the research assistant job into account. This is based off if Ash travels Galar to his normal standard with every other arc but Alola but I did keep the characters.

You didn’t ask for this but I want to add in other traveling buddies and side rivals ages and how they are compared to Ash as well. Usually Ash is the youngest if not one of them up until Hoenn. With the exception of being exactly 24 hours older then Ritchie. And all of this have way to much detail but its making my ADHD brain go brrrr happily.

He’s older than May, surprisingly, by like a month and a half but he doesn’t realize that and mentally clocks that he’s younger than her because of how responsible and adult like she acts a good chunk of the time. Max is obviously the youngest while Brock is the oldest. The same thing kinda happens in Sinnoh. He’s older then Dawn by a good year and a half to maybe even two years. Though Ash is younger then Paul and Barry by a varying few months between each boy.

Unova is where it changes a lot. Going from one of the youngest to one of the oldest out of his group of friends. Iris is drastically 3 years younger then Ash, making her around 12 at the start of the arc and somewhere around 13 at the end, and around 3 and a half with Cilan. This causes her to constantly pick against Ash because to her he’s older. Ash should be acting more like a seasonal trainer with known responsibilities and shouldn’t be so excited about everything. That’s also an expectation that was subconsciously taught to her by Drayden when she was still in School in the Dragon Village. Virgil is actually the oldest being freshly turned 18 years old while Cameron is the youngest at 11 and 5 months. Stephan is like the closest to Ash’s actually age but also acts a lot more older and more adult like then he really is just by his laid back attitude. Bianca actually just turned 18 before starting her journey.

Age Note: the reason why Cilan is weird and awkward around Burgundy is not because of her short temper and brash attitude but because Burgundy just turned 13 years old. She is a legitimate child just like Iris, compared to Cilan’s 16 years and 6 months when the meet on the road for the first time and not at a connoisseur event. Her deep infatuation and how young she is really puts Cilan in a active land mine field. Unlike Iris who listens to him and actually talks, he has no clue how to interact with her. Burgundy isn’t a normal gym challenger coming to his and his brother gym for a badge or even a normal crazed simple fan. As a gentleman at heart as well he raised to talk between certain age limits close to his own and this ends up making Cilan see Burgundy actually younger then she really is. Kind of like how Iris clocked Ash as a ‘kid’ when he’s obviously older then her and more experienced.

Kalos then thrusts Ash or being the oldest out of the main group but not as a whole. Bonnies around 8 while Clemont is 2 months and a half younger then Ash. This is where I struggle a lot in placing peoples based age in Kalos is actually because of Serena. I don’t want to make her too young to which the point it’s weird and also I based the other contest girls age’s around hers. But I also don’t want to make her too old to the point that Miette, the oldest out of the contest girls no matter what, is older then Ash. The general consensus is that Miette is right in with Clemont and Ash age wise while Nini is the youngest out of the trio. So that places Serena around 13 to 14 while Nini is like 12 and 7 months. Sawyer is obviously just turned 10 while Trevor, Tierno, and Shauna are between 12 and a half to 13 and a half years old. Giving that easy bonding connection with Serena and Shauna while giving Miette a older more experienced vibe and the childlike wonder to Nini. You’d think with Alain and all Ash would be the second oldest but your wrong. Ash is exactly 1 whole week older then Alain but, much like May, he doesn’t know that and mentally clocks Alain older then he really is.

In comes Alola and this is again where I usually bump Ash up to 20 to 21 but for the sake of everything I’m going off the basic target. Ash is obviously the oldest of the class by a good year on them alone though the classes collective smarts pushed them up different grades in school so thats how their together. Kiawe was the oldest at 16 and 9 months while Sophocles is still the youngest at 12 and 3 months, again bringing in the fact that the class is super smart and its based off intelligence instead of age like with every other class. Mallow is the third oldest at 16 and 2 months with Lana following on by at 16 and 1 month. Lillie is specifically around 15 years to 13 years and 4 months based off if I want her to suffer more as a older teen or as a child, literally her age is based off if I want to traumatize her more or not. Hapu is around 12 to 13 years old despite her obvious size and squeaky-ish voice. Acerola despite being very very mature for her age is only 17 years and 4 months old. Horacio is about Ash’s age at an even 17 years old when he and his lackies first meet Ash, Sophocles, and Kiawe.

Age Note: Horacio absolutely used his age as a card against Sophocles as many times as he could to the point it was so overused. This made Ash especially angry because he hated it when people used their age against much younger kids. Just because you’re older doesn’t mean you’re right.

Then we reach Galar as our final stop. Ash is once more the oldest out of him, Chloe, and Goh but not everyone else. That would be Hodge at a straight 19 years old when he first meets Ash and Goh at the Battle Frontier Flute Cup. Chloe comes at 14 and a half years old with Goh just freshly turning 14. This makes Ash’s relationship more of a mentor type distant older brother thing. Those two actually don’t find out about Ash’s age up until he and Goh get their letter so of recommendation and have to fill out the normal personal stuff. If you think Hop is close by in age with Ash then you’re wrong again. He’s actually two days younger then Chloe making Hop around 14 and a half years old as well. Marine is 13 years and 9 months old. Bede is much more closer to Ash then the others at 16 years 8 months. For Leon, Raihan, and Sonia their still very much the same in a way. Leon is still the youngest at 20 years while Raihan is the oldest at 23, leaving Sonia in the middle at 21 and a half years old.

Age note… once more: this fits perfectly for the Kanto and Galar Trios as they basically get opposite of themselves in a way. Goh who’s very oriented, loud, and on the go gets paired with marine who’s very quite and shy for the most part and their going to subconsciously teach each other that its okay to come out of your shell or its okay to take a moment and relax. Hop is very much like Ash and Goh combined with the strategies and the none stop puppy own straight crack like energy and he declares himself as Chloe’s, who’s silent and very critical and almost broody like it’s not quite there but it’s close enough, rival and is trying to teach her that battling is fun and okay and a lot of Pokemon like battling for those reason. Ash and Bede are the obvious choice for each other because once again Ash is very bright, happy-go-lucky, just sweet in general to everyone while Bede is completely broody, extremely sour, and just utterly rolling in his own image and being way to cocky.



[offices-regionalbranch]

Offices Interesting Fact of the Day!

It is commonly known that in the early 20th century, many products contained radioactive components! With radioactivity being a new discovery, it was a hot new fad, and everyone wanted in. The Washington Post states

(source)

This fad lead a real pervy and opportunistic man, Christoph Bulmer, to an idea. You see, for years, Bulmer was obsessed with what he was once quoted as calling his "salesman Rubicon": marketing sex toys in a conservative society. His dream was always to be able to be free and open about the sale and purpose of sex toys, that no one should be ashamed at getting their rocks off. Now, before you say he seems like a rather progressive man, a diary from one of his secretaries shows just how open he was

"Today Mr. Bulmer stated he would be introducing new rules around the office, based on something he claims to be called "Le bureau libre", the free office. He demands that everyone, from myself, to Ms. Cassidy, to Mr. Gerritsen, to even Mr. Bulmer himself only wear clothing during important meetings. I shiver to think what Jimmy would think of me if I told him.

Bulmer's company, Bull Electronics, would mainly make vacuum cleaners, but on the side Bulmer would tinker in his office alone, creating all sorts of vibrating and thrusting machines. According to those around him, his breakthrough came one day when he read an article about the bombing of Hiroshima, equating the massive mushroom cloud with the sensation of an orgasm. And so he went to work, creating a device that not only vibrated when inside someone, but also emitted small amounts of radiation.

You see, a lot of the radioactive products of this time were billed as new forms of health, the idea being that a small dose of radiation could lead to a better and prolonged life. Bulmer's toys didn't HAVE to be explicitly sexual, but with a wink and a nod he could reach his target audience of lonely housewives. It wasn't a "vibrator" it was a personal massager, that used vibrations to irritate atoms and send them into the users body. When it was first marketed, it was all around a success, leading Bull Electronics to by a larger factory in Elizabeth, NJ. The first couple of models were advertised not as explicitly as the one at the beginning of this post, but as time went on the ads got more and more explicit about what they wanted you to do with the product, and the housewives didn't mind.

Bulmer named these models the "NucuGal" and they were the best selling sex toy in America, despite not technically BEING sex toys.

The tragic part however, may already be obvious to my more astute readers, that being that the housewives of America were shoving radiation into their vagina. The amount of radiation the NucuGals actually omitted is often debated, but there's a general consensus that it was a relatively low amount. However with continued exposure in sensitive areas to even this low radiation, eventually came infertility for a lot of users, sometimes even cancer. By 1965, 1 in 12 previous NucuGal users were diagnosed with some kind of cancer.

Christoph Bulmer was already dead by the time many of these cases were reported. He, quite poetically, had died of cancer in 1952, at 63 years old. However! This was not a cancer caused by, as you may think, him working regularly with radioactive material, but actually from the fact that Bulmer liked to enjoy 14 cigars a day, starting at the age of 10. Bulmer would pass away, alone in a Manhattan apartment, on March 15th.

One last interesting part of this story is for my fallout fans out there! You may be thinking to yourself "NucuGal" and "NukaGirl" sound very similar! That is no coincidence! When in the process of naming Nuka Colas space themed mascot, the writing team thought back to a story they had heard. It was a story about a pervert, and his dream of selling vibrators.

Thank you for reading, the offices fun fact of the day™

[reidyoulikeabook]

Champagne Problems

#Request: could you write something based on ‘champagne problems’? creative license is yours and go ham however you see fit but i was thinking reader breaks things off between her and spencer seemingly without warning etc etc

Summary: You and Spencer had been together for almost 2 years. So when he asks you to marry him, that’s got to be a no-brainer, right?

Warnings: Angst, a lot of angst. Minor mentions of threat, blackmail, violence and drugs.

Word count: 2k

A/N: Writing this hurt my feelings. Badly. Just the idea of sad Spencer destroys me. That having been said, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy writing it. Anyway, as always, requests are open!

--------

Spencer hasn’t moved off the couch in at least 8 hours. He hadn’t slept. Not since you’d left.

He’d been agonising over the proposal for months. He’d consulted Morgan, who’d said, “Pretty boy, you could ask her over coffee on the jet and she’d say yes. Don’t worry so much about making it perfect.”

Garcia, who’d squealed, bouncing in her seat at the thought of another BAU wedding, “Oh my gosh! You have to make it beautiful! Amazing! You two are finally gonna get married! Is she pregnant? Not that she has to be just, my god, this team has a reputation for shotgun weddings.”

He’d briefly considered asking Rossi, who had surely proposed enough times by now for him to be classified as an engagement expert. Hotch would probably have had some sage advice, and Emily well...he wasn’t exactly sure what her advice would have been, actually. He might have wound up asking them if what J.J had said to him hadn’t been so helpful.

“Do whatever feels most authentic to you. Neither of you are fans of a big show, you’re not ‘fly a blimp over Quantico’ people. Just, do something that feels right.”

So he’d done that. Spencer loved the solace of your apartment. It’s where you spent the vast majority of your date nights: ordering in fancy takeout, watching shows, sometimes just sitting and reading together in the bay window. If Spencer had a glass or two of wine, he could sometimes be coaxed into dancing.

What felt right to him was this: the apartment bathed in the glow of the fairylights he’d put up earlier, supported by the gentle golden light of the colour changing lightbulb he’d purchased especially. The record player prepared with your favourite album. A chilled bottle of wine resting on the table, next to a bouquet of fresh flowers contained in a crystal vase he’d had to demolish half the spare bedroom to find.

He was more than a little nervous, as he posted himself up at the dining room table to await your arrival. He couldn’t stop the train of thoughts: what if she says no? What if she doesn’t want me?

The only thing that helped stifle his nerves was thinking of how the others had reacted when he’d told them. What Morgan had said. Then he trails his mind back, to all the times he’d felt so insecure, so unworthy of your love. You’d never failed to remind him that he was the best thing to happen to you. That every insecurity he had was actually just a quirk about him that you loved. Your love poured into him, filling a lifetime of holes made by other peoples criticiques and mockery. He took a deep breath. He would be okay. This would be okay. You loved him. God knows you’d told him that enough times.

***

“What’s all this?” You ask, coming through the door and shrugging the laptop case off your shoulders.

“I just thought, since our anniversary is coming up and we could get called out on a case...I thought we could celebrate early. On a night we know we have off.”

“That’s really thoughtful,” You say with a smile, “I can’t believe you did all this Spence.”

He stands, crossing the room to help you take your jacket off, “You deserve something special.”

“Good job you’re something special then,” You say, allowing him to lift the jacket off your shoulders, leaning in to peck his cheek as he does it.

Moving away from you to hang your jacket on the coat hanger, he feels the anxiety start to climb again. He’s imagined the scenario a million times in his head, played it out. He knew he’d be nervous. But nothing, no run-through in his mind could have prepared him for the anxiety he feels as you take your seat at the table.

“Shall I open this?”

“If you don’t mind.”

“Spence you got the fancy one,” You say, a question in your voice that he pretends not to hear.

“Well it is for our anniversary, can’t buy the five dollar bottle to celebrate two years together,” He says, taking his seat opposite you.

“Two years huh?”

“Yep. Well, currently one year, eleven months and fifteen days, if you take a month to mean thirty days.”

“That’s gone pretty fast.”

“Actually it’s pretty widely agreed by psychologists that as we get older our subjective perception of time speeds up. There’s no real consensus on what exactly the cause is but it’s thought that it might have something to do with the expansion of our neuron network and the greater distance signals have to travel which slows down our processing time.”

You laugh, “Well that’s a very scientific way to tell me we’re getting old.”

“You’re not even thirty.”

“Not far off.”

“Well I’m sure I’ll think you’re just as beautiful at thirty, and fourty, and fifty, and-”

You cut him off, laughing again, “Is there a scientific theory to support that or are you just spitballing here?”

“This is all me.”

Something about the way he says that sounds so vulnerable that it makes your heart ache.

Spencer’s a little nervous, but not anything close to massively alerting you. You decide to chalk it down to just Spencer being Spencer, mostly out of not wanting to dwell on it too much. The evening passes in exchange of old memories, light teasing as you recall how long it’d taken him to summon the courage to kiss you for the first time.

He’s trying to work out when. When you head to the bathroom, he decides it has to be when you come back. Before he loses his nerve. He swallows another sip of wine for courage, smiling at the thought that he’ll get to introduce you as his fiance at work tomorrow.

Entering the room, you spy how he’s smiling to himself. You have half a mind to ask him what he’s thinking about, but he interrupts you before you can.

“Wanna dance?” He asks, having wandered to where the record player sits, covered in a thin layer of dust.

“Yeah. Dancing sounds good.”

Flicking the needle down, that familiar song starts playing.

You make your way over to where he stands on your living room rug. He puts one arm around your waist, keeping your other hand in his. You move in time to the music, letting him twirl you around with ease.

“I have something to ask you,” he murmurs, spinning you again so you come flying to rest against his chest.

Your head rests just under his chin, and the dance slows down to a gentle sway.

Your heart is pounding.

“Yeah?”

“I-I had this whole speech planned,” he says, softly, "But I think...I think I just want to ask you now. I think you know how I feel about you. How much I love you. So I wanted to ask you, if you want to marry me.”

You drop his hand. Stepping back, you scan his face. Seeing the panic, the questionning, the confusion.

“Spencer I-I can’t. I can’t do that.”

Confusion flickers across his features, eyebrows furrowing, lips pressing against one another. He tries to keep the tears from filling his eyes but he can’t. They glint with all the hurt. With his worst nightmare realised. You’re just stood there, statue-still. Staring at him with something he can’t figure out. Horror? Shock? How could it be either of those things. His chest heaves, he flounders. Even when he imagined this, he never planned what he’d say next. What he’d really do if you said no. It dawns on him then. He never really believed it would happen.

“W-Why?” He finally chokes, taking a step towards you only to promptly feel another kick to the gut as you, in turn, retreat.

“I just...” You trail off, mouth opening and closing, “I just. I just can’t.”

He doesn’t get the chance to puzzle out what the look on your face is. It’s imperceptible. Before he can think of anything else to say, before he can even begin to comprehend the way his world just shattered, you’re gone.

He thinks he hears a quiet, “I’m sorry,” as you scuttle out of the apartment door and disappear.

***

At some point, he makes it to the couch. It goes dark around him, the batteries in the fairy lights die at some point. So he sits illuminated in only the light of the lamp.

Eidetic memory allows his brain to become a theatre. Showing only one film: The Time You Said No. Dropped his hand. Stepped back, as if you were wounded, injured. The confusion in your voice. How it shook, broke, when you said ‘I-I can’t.’ How you just left. How you promised you’d never leave and here you were, slipping out the apartment door without a second look. He’s not even analysing. He just sits, replaying the night in his head. Hot tears slipping down his cheeks everytime he gets to the part where you leave. He doesn’t wipe them. Just starts again.

***

He’s vaguely aware of a phone ringing beside him. Picking it up, he sees it’s 7:52am, which means he’s going to be late for work. There are several missed calls. He would check to see who they’re from but he doesn’t really care.

Will you be at work?

The thought almost makes him want to go. It dawns on him then that he has absolutely no idea where you are, and somehow that’s worse than knowing you left. He scrambles for the phone, picking it up and dialling your number. It rings, from inside your jacket. The jacket you left on the back of the chair.

If he goes into work and you’re not there...he bristles at the thought. Nausea rises in him, his forehead starting to feel clammy with a light sheen of sweat as he processes: he has no idea where you are. For the first time in two years, he has no idea where you are and no way to find out.

Then it hits him. This might just be his life now. He has to run to the bathroom and vomit.

***

You’ve fucked it up. You’ve fucked it up and you know it the moment you get out of your apartment building and into the freezing cold air. There’s no way to explain it.

You’d received an email this afternoon. It was footage of Elle. You’d been home late because you’d had to go to Hotch, who’d spent the afternoon nervously pacing. Various agents, increasing in status each time, had flooded the office.

There was no way of knowing, right now, who’d sent the email. Or what they could see. What they had access to. How could you accept a proposal from Spencer when you knew that doing so could put him in jepoardy? What if they had something on him?

The entire team had looked the other way while you’d helped him to wrangle the dilaudid addiction and get himself back on his feet. That time pained you to think about. But there were so many things that a person could get their hands on. How could you say yes to taking your relationship further when everything was so off-balance right now?

You should have told him. No matter about Hotch or Strauss swearing you to secrecy. You should have told him. Shame rises, deep in your gut, at the monumental fuck-up you’d just made. If it hadn’t been this afternoon, if you hadn’t been on edge already, if you’d had the time to think about things. You would have responded differently. If you’d just had some more time.

But you’re here now. Wondering, how exactly you could explain that you’d done this because you were worried someone might hurt him.

How can you say you were protecting him, when in doing so you destroyed him?

---

Taglist: @sassiest-politician @takeyourleap-of-faith

(as usual, if you’d like to be added to/removed from the taglist just let me know!)

[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.