He was deeply human. Not immortal like Legolas. Not immune to the allure of the ring like Gimli. He doesn't possess Gandalf's wisdom or the innocence of Merry and Pippin. He had a Sam-like loyalty in him, but he didn't grow up with a Frodo to be loyal to in his formative years, and so he learned to be loyal to himself. Nobody handed him a quest, a divine task to fulfill like Frodo. He didn't know the love of a good dad. His honor was never hailed like Aragorn's. If he displayed goodness and kindness in his childhood, it was never praised, only disparaged as a weakness. His father valued him, yes, but never as a person or a son, only as a trophy, a marker of success. He made real mistakes, succumbed to the draw of the ring.
Even so, he came to love and care for the hobbits with the kind of love he needed so deeply and never got from Denethor. He came to love Aragorn as a brother even though he would never be as widely beloved and his heroism never as widely known. He recognized his mistake, and he lamented it. And when the moment came at which it most counted, he sacrificed all of himself to protect the hobbits, to fulfill his duty and right his mistake, but most of all because he loved them. And they loved him too, enough to hurl themselves at the orcs even though they were hobbits of The Shire.
Boromir was defined not by his swipe for the ring's power, but by this love and heroism. And in his dying moments, Aragorn made sure that Boromir knew that his honor was as true as that of Aragorn himself.
Rudy and Alejandro a chuck of the time i swear
What do they do to my poor boy Rudy ;-;
bro im so fed up of reading fan fics or seeing art of two characters and one of them just gets nerfed.
Like- WHERE'D HIS MUSCLES GO!? they twinkify him (can i still say this? is this word allowed anymore idk) and the other dude still has his muscles?? WHY!?
or in fan fics, suddenly the guy is a blushing mess and he's supper shy when the guy has legit killed and will kill again or like blown shit up before (can't think of good examples but you get what i mean)
i know people can write / draw whatever they want but can people just accept that you can have two buff dudes without turning one into a ridiculously feminine version of themselves?
Can we just have more gay ships where it's just two bros punching each other and rolling around in the dirt because why tf not?
LET THE BUFF SHIPS LIVE!
frodoiii from the perspective of sams lovin eyes
AT FIRST I THOUGHT THESE WERE COndoms
help
sweet like candy🧼🍬💀
I want to do the same with Price and Gaz. I wanted to post it at once, but it didn’t work out.(◠‿◕)
My 4 year old brother drew a chaos creature and now you all behold him
A lazy morning fuck.
cw: fingering, anal sex.
John wakes with a start and a strangled noise when his body clock jolts him conscious at 5.30am. He'd overslept, his startled mind informs him. He fights his way out of his heavy duvet to free his arms, knocking one of his pillows onto the floor. "Fuck, what day..." His head's all over the place because he's bloody exhausted, and he gropes for his phone on the bedside table, eyes fuzzy with sleep. It's not there and he lets out a frustrated grunt as he moves to sit up.
Nik's big arms reach across the mattress and encircle John's body. He pulls him back into the soft warmth of their bed, nuzzles into his fluffy, shower-soft hair. "Relax. You are on leave, solnyshko. Easy." Nik had left all their phones in the kitchen, with all the alarms turned off. The bedroom is quiet and cool, the curtains drawn to block out the early morning light flutter gently in the breeze. They're not on any schedule other than 'rest'.
Nik can feel the panicked rabbit of John's heart, the confused tension in his body, and begins to caress him gently. After their bath, John had pulled on his boxers and a cotton t-shirt before burrowing beneath the duvet and promptly falling unconscious. It had been an abysmal week, even by John's standards. He needs the leave to recharge, to find his peace again.
Nik's big palms move beneath that t-shirt, over John's chest, across his belly, up his arms, enjoying the downy softness of his body hair, the swells of muscle and plusher give around his abdomen, warm and inviting. Nik kisses his neck, noses his beard, and eventually John relaxes back into a deep sleep. He burrows into Nik's chest, nose between his tits, and Nik feels him deflate with a long sigh, aching body sinking into the mattress as Nik pulls the blankets back over him.
Nik stays awake for a while, just watching. John is beautiful in the low light. The lines around his eyes have smoothed out in sleep, his fluffy hair ruffled, broad shoulders rising and falling in time with the slow beat of his heart. Nik can feel it though his back, a strong, steady thrum that lulls him back into a lighter doze. He dreams of captains with pretty blue eyes and muscular bodies stretched out in pleasure, and his body stirs even as he snoozes.
Later, at a more reasonable hour, Nik wakes again slowly. He can hear the traffic outside the open window, taste the morning on the cool air, and he breathes in deep, basks in the peace and safety of the moment, still and soft.
John's still sleeping, but he had rolled over so his back pressed to Nik's chest, the pert curves of his arse pushed up against Nik's morning wood in the most exquisite tease. Nik sleeps naked, and his thick shaft sits perfectly in the dip of John's cleft, cradled by the stretchy cotton of his boxers, his heavy balls pressed up beneath. They had been too tired last night, but morning sex with a well rested, eager John Price is Nik's reward for a long op. His cock gives a needy throb as he rocks it against John's body, aching to be inside him, wet tip drooling a bead of precum in anticipation.
Nik starts as gently as he did before. He circles his fingertips over one pert arse cheek, stroking John through the soft material of his underwear. The flurry of goosebumps that rush over John's exposed arm betrays his enjoyment, even if he hasn't fully woken yet. Nik continues, sliding his big palms up John's torso to grope his tits. They're perfect. Firm, with that soft layer of hair that Nik likes to rub his face into. His thumb circles the soft areola of John's nipple until it pulls tight, so he strokes the firm nub between finger and thumb until John's entire chest is firm with arousal.
Where Nik's nipples are dusky, John's are a light pink, as sweet as the rest of him beneath his austere disguise. The first time Nik had undressed John, he had been completely smitten by the constellations of freckles over his pale skin, the tan lines, the scars, every soft patch of skin and sensitive erogenous zone. How beautiful John was when he let himself be vulnerable. That first night John had sunk onto Nik's cock, making soft noises of overwhelmed pleasure, and Nik had kissed and licked his nipples until he came in the dense curls of Nik's chest hair, gasping and moaning in a low, sultry timbre that Nik still pleasured himself to the memory of.
The memory makes Nik's cock twitch now and he pushes it firmly against John's arse with a low moan of longing. John stirs, his body straightening a little, pressing into Nik's hands with a soft sigh. Nik smiles into John's hair and continues his lazy exploration, squeezing and massaging John's chest as he leans over to kiss his neck and shoulders.
Even asleep, John arches into it, he's so responsive, so sensitive. His freckled skin warms, flushing over his neck and chest, and he begins to squirm in Nik's arms. Nik worms one beneath him, slanting up his chest to slide a hand around John's throat to tilt his head back just as the other strokes down his belly and into his boxers to claim his prize.
John's wet and hard, the soft cotton of his boxers damp against Nik's knuckles as he strokes John's cock with a firm grip from root to tip. John's eyes flutter, damp lips parting as he tilts them against Nik's jaw. He pants, reaching to hold the wrist of the hand around his throat as he's drawn close to Nik's chest, and Nik squeezes a little, and John lets out a soft noise of enjoyment. John's cock pulses in Nik's hand as he draws it over the waistband of his boxers, precum wetting the hem of his shirt.
"Couldn' wait fer breakfast, eh?"
"No," Nik replies softly, fingertips following a thick vein down the underside of John's shaft to the curls around the base, continuing along the seam of his sac, firm and high. "You need this as much as I do." Nik traces lower, caressing down John's taint to his hole, stroking the rim in gentle passes.
"God, fuck, yeah..." John moans, thigh lifting to drape over Nik's, hips rocking up to encourage Nik's touches, grinding his arse back enticingly against Nik's prick. Precum wets the small of his back as Nik's tip nudges beneath his shirt. "C'mon, Nik. Stop teasin'. Yer so hard..."
Nik chuckles, tugging his hand free long enough to pump out a handful of lube from the tub on the bedside cabinet. Price wriggles out of his boxers, kicking them down his legs, and Nik bites his lower lip as the soft skin of John's cleft presses the heat of his shaft. Nik draws John over him a little more, delighting at the demanding growl that vibrates under the palm around John's throat. Nik doesn't leave John wanting, slick fingertips caressing the outside before the first presses inside. John's legs spread wantonly, the heft of his balls sitting against the cup of Nik's palm as he relaxes.
Nik slides in a second, licking into the shell of John's ear, nibbling the lobe, as he crooks his fingers in a slow, deliberate come hither gesture that makes John's thighs shake. "Nik, fuck... Nik, ahh..."
"Da, solnyshko... da tebya yebat nado." Nik growls, easing his fingers out as he scrubs his face into the coarse bristles of John's beard. He rolls John onto his front, pressing him into the mattress with the weight of his chest, biting and kissing the slope of his shoulder, the skin of his neck between the gaps of the fingers still holding his throat. He reaches down to guide the tip of his cock to John's wet hole, teasing his slit with the soft rim before easing his crown inside. John's still pleasantly tight, sucking Nik in greedily, bearing down with a deep, satisfied moan as Nik sinks in hilt deep until the firm swell of his balls pressed to the back of John's. Nik growls, satisfied by the wet heat enveloping his cock, snug, keen, perfect. "Ya zastavlyu tebya umolyat ob etom."
"Mm, Nik, fuck... fuck... yeah. So, f-f-fuh.. s-so good." John's cock is trapped between his belly and the mattress as Nik slowly rocks into him, keeping him pinned with his bulk, thick chest pressed to his back. Nik grinds more than thrusts, precum and lube making obscene noises at the seam of their bodies, echoing their gasps and groans, muffled only when Nik presses his mouth to John's shoulder to breathe him in as the pleasure rolls through his hips in a deep, slow ebb that matches the pace of their love-making.
Even with his cock inside him, Nik wants to be deeper; to burrow in his scent, to feel the heat of his body against every inch of his skin. John sounds so good, every low moan, every time Nik's name slips out in his deep, gravelly tone, cigar smoke and the roar of battle buffing his voice like sandpaper. Nik could listen to John talk for an eternity, but the way he sounds in pleasure, his moans, his pleas, is a whole new level of indulgence.
When John spreads his legs over the bed, tilting his hips to urge Nik deeper, Nik nudges his knees up beneath his thighs and grinds in slow, graceful rolls that drags his cock in and out at an angle that makes John moan loud and wanton. The firm muscles in his back pulling taut in a decadent arch. "Oh fuck, Nik... 'm gonna cum, 'm gonna.... fuck, 'm so close... please, please."
"Not yet, detka," Nik murmurs against John's neck. "Hold on." Nik lifts up, changing his grip to the back of John's neck to push the side of his face into the pillow, the knuckles of his other pressed against the bed.
"Nik, please... please..."
John's fingers curl in the sheets, fists shaking as Nik fucks him with the same firm, deep pace, the continuous drag of his cock teasing him higher. Nik looks down the slope of his body, watches his thick shaft sink into John's body, ruddy skin slick with precum and lube, John's hole fucked open and desperate. He picks up his pace a little, listens to John's low moans break into whimpers as he walks the precipice. "Nik, Nik, Nik... Ahh, ahh."
Nik closes his eyes and tilts his head back. He knows the moment John comes he'll follow, he's on a knife edge, the knot of tension in his hips pulled tight. John begs, whimpering, and Nik chokes out his permission. "Da, John... da." He feels John come, his body tightening, and fucks in deep to enjoy every spasming pulse of it. When his own crests, he releases John's neck to take his hip and draw him back onto his cock, shoulders hunched as his head drops, forehead in the centre of John's. As his heart thunders, cock twitching in the aftershocks, he presses gentle kisses to the back of John's neck and draws out.
He slumps to the side and strokes John's hair as one fuzzy blue eye watches him from the folds of the pillow. They say nothing in the soft afterglow, heavy breaths fading into deeper ones. When the sweat had eased, Nik draws John into his arms again and kisses the soft skin beneath his ear and lets him doze.
When he wakes later, John shrugs out of his t-shirt and pushes Nik onto his back, straddling his hips to sink onto his cock again, hole still fucked open and eager. Nik watches those thick tits bounce as John rides him, John's head tilted back in ecstasy, big hand pumping the length of his prick as he chases another high. They'll spend a lazy weekend in John's flat, smoking expensive cigars and drinking expensive whiskey, having marathon sex that Nik will drop tantalising hints about over poker, leaving the sergeants equal parts aroused and traumatised. Nik is, after all, a great believer in finding joy in the simple pleasures.
Inside me are two angst filled wolves.
One says Fili is a splitting image of his father, the same eyes, same hair, same smile and gentle features, and everyone tells him how much he looks like his father and Fili nods along and thanks them for their words only to run and lock himself away for hours just staring at his reflection because it’s been so many years that he can’t remember his fathers face.
The other says Fili is a splitting image of his long lost uncle, always the odd one out of the Durin family line with his light colouration and softer features until he wonders the empty halls of Erebor and discovers a torn and scorched portrait of his mother, and two uncles, and finally seeing Frerin and seeing himself reflected in him, and having something inside him snap into place and finally feeling like he belongs.
I drew these a year ago but I just made a Tumblr so it's time to spam my obsession sorry in advance
Help I cant
This is the most nerdy red neck thing I have seen
haha knives am i right? age: can join the military, cant legally drink
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