harrishawk
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Giving himself no time to talk himself out of it, Jon rolls onto his back, gently pulling Martin with him. With his arms already wrapped around Martin’s torso, it’s easy enough to shift Martin’s weight from the mattress onto Jon, Martin making a small noise of confusion. The effect is instantaneous.
or: pressure is reassuring, especially when it's your boyfriend lying on top of you.
(previously titled 'cause i must make you the perfect morning).
Recent bookmarks
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The Stars, the Oliphaunt and the Warrior (Triptych) by Meysun
Fandoms: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
24 Dec 2016
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Fíli is five when his father drowns in one of the River Lune's terrible floods, and has narrowly escaped death himself. Distraught, lost, furious and afraid, Fíli struggles with loss, guilt and grief – and slowly begins to get closer to his stern, closed-off and unfamiliar uncle.
A small triptych for Christmas time.Series
- Part 1 of Uncle and Nephews
Bookmarked by harrishawk
03 Sep 2025
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They breathe quietly for a while, and then Fíli shifts, slightly, until his face rests straight above Thorin's heart. He listens to the soft, regular thud for a long, long time, and then he says:
“In your chest… There are things you could not leave behind in your house. I think… that most of these things are not yours. That you are their keeper. And that, one day… perhaps, you will show me.”
Thorin's heart is thudding so fast now that Fíli knows. It is strange, how good he is becoming at guessing what his uncle thinks, and the way he feels. For example, now, Thorin is swallowing very hard, and Fíli knows that he is fighting back tears.
hey I'm. what. huh. yeah okay. what.
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The Restoration Artist by superheroresin for SulaMoon, Cryo_Bucky
Fandoms: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
15 Oct 2018
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As a conservator of rare oil paintings for The Met, Steve Rogers thinks of himself part scientist, part archaeologist, but hardly an artist in his own right. Only when he’s faced with the daunting task of restoring a frozen painting from a recently unearthed Nazi art hoard does he start to feel his passion for the craft return. Before he has a chance to understand what that means, Steve is transported to the 1940’s, where he meets both The Winter Soldier himself, and his own destiny.
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Bookmarked by harrishawk
21 Jun 2025
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Steve pokes his nose into his washer before he leaves, finally remembers to check his pockets before he loads it up with detergent and lets it go while he’s at work. He rescues a few coins and his keys (so that’s where they went), plus finds a slip of paper in his jean’s pocket. It’s too stiff to be a receipt, and he pauses with an odd feeling of deja vu when he turns it over to find the words Fresco’s and Dancing To Nite stamped on the cover in scrawling calligraphy. Inside are numbered lines, each one preceded with the names of familiar dances. Waltz, foxtrot, two-step and more, all of them blank until Steve gets to Lindy Hop on line seventeen, with the name ‘Bucky’ scratched into place in pencil.
“Huh,” Steve says again, turning the card over to find it has a blank back and no other discerning features. “Who the hell is Bucky...”
The name doesn’t ring a bell.
OH i'm losing my mind. going insane you might say.
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let me be buried under your name by tempestaurora
Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Captain America (Movies)
17 Oct 2019
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Bucky's dog tags were folded in the crease of the paper he'd torn from his journal, reading: "Steve, here. You have them, if you want them. You have me, if you want me. I’ve never tried loving a man before but for you I’ve run headfirst into wars and Death’s wide, gaping jaws, so this is easy in comparison. This is like breathing."
It was so dark when Bucky handed him the note, the fire just burning out, and he glanced back only once to see Steve watching him as he walked away.
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Bookmarked by harrishawk
19 Jun 2025
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So, take my tags, and I’ll take yours, and if I die in this shitty fucking war, don’t tell them we switched; let me be buried under your name – and some fifty years from now, you can be buried under mine.
jesus h christ
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When Arthur is badly wounded during an inexplicable attack by a magical creature, Merlin must make sure he lives long enough to make it back to Camelot. But that's easier said than done, especially with uncomfortable truths swirling just out of sight.
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- 13,690
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Bookmarked by harrishawk
11 May 2025
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“Merlin.” That was all he could manage at the moment, but Merlin grinned, wide and bright.
“Shut up?” He laughed and the sound sunk into Arthur’s muscles and fizzed there.
“No.”
Arthur could tell Merlin was relieved. He wanted to put Merlin at ease. And he needed…
“Keep talking.”
hey. so hey. what.
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Being dead isn’t like Eddie thought it would be.
For starters, he’s a lot more alive than he expected.
or, the ghost of Eddie Munson’s still hanging around, and he’d really appreciate if someone could notice him, thanks
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Bookmarked by harrishawk
07 Jan 2025
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Wayne’s eyes crinkle when he smiles, and he holds Eddie’s hand tighter.
“I was there, I was there,” Eddie babbles, voice weak. He doesn’t know if Wayne understands him, but he nods like he’s listening. “I just wanted to go home.”
Wayne brings his hand down to rub a knuckle down the bridge of Eddie’s nose, like he used to do when Eddie was a little kid who couldn’t sleep.
“We’re gonna go home, okay?” he says gently, voice so quiet it rumbles. “Gonna take you home soon as they let me.”